BOOK 823.7.M349 v.24 c. 1 
 MARRYAT # NOVELS 
 
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THE NOVELS 
 
 OF 
 
 CAPTAIN MARRYAT 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON 
 
This Edition of Captain Marry at" s NovelSf 
 
 made exclusively for members of the 
 
 NEW YORK YACHT CLUB 
 
 is strictly limited to one hundred copies. 
 
 Copy No. f O 
 PRINTED FOR 
 H. A. VAN LIEIV, Esq. 
 
 A^- 
 
NEW YORK YACHT CLUB EDITION 
 
 VALERIE 
 
 BY 
 CAPTAIN MARRY AT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CROSCUP AND COMPANY 
 
 MDCCCXCVI 
 
 
■««Kv:-~-^"' 
 
 r 
 
Contents 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Chapter i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Chapter n 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 • 75 
 
 Chapter hi 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 Chapter iv 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 Chapter v 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 38 
 
 Chapter vi 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 Chapter vii 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 83 
 
 Chapter viii . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 115 
 
 Chapter ix 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 148 
 
 Chapter x 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 174 
 
 Chapter xi 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2CO 
 
 Chapter xii 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 227 
 
 Chapter xiii . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 252 
 
 h. 
 
List of Etchings 
 
 And lash him with his whole strength with a rough 
 
 JOCKEY whip (Ch. XIII.) . . . Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 *I WILL PROTECT MY SISTER ' . . . . l8 
 
 * And now I wish you a good morning ' . .48 
 'Mr Selwyn then produced the will' . . 137 
 *as i live, i will not return till dinner-time ' . 1 67 
 
 * Go, sir; Mrs Stanhope's sentiments are mine' . 213 
 
 Dranvn by D. Downing. 
 Etched by W. Wright- Nooth. 
 
Prefatory Note 
 
 On August 20, 1845, Marryat wrote to Mrs S., *'a lady 
 for whom, to the time of his death, he retained the highest 
 sentiments of friendship and esteem " :— 
 
 " I really wish you would write your confessions, I 
 will publish them. I have a beautiful opening in some 
 memoranda I have made of the early life of a French- 
 woman, that is, up to the age of seventeen, when she 
 is cast adrift upon the world, and I would work it all 
 up together. Let us commence, and divide the tin ; it is 
 better than doing nothing. I have been helping Ainsworth 
 in the New Monthly, and I told him that I had commenced 
 a work called Mademoiselle Firginie, which he might perhaps 
 have. Without my knowing it, he has announced its 
 coming forth ; but it does not follow that he is to have it, 
 nevertheless, and indeed he now wishes me to continue 
 one" {The Privateer smart) "that I have already begun in 
 the magazine." 
 
 However, Mrs S., with whom at one time Washington 
 Irving also wished to collaborate, declined the offer ; and 
 Mademoiselle Firginie was ultimately published in the New 
 Monthly under the title of Falerie. The first eleven 
 chapters appeared in the magazine 1846, 1847, and the 
 remaining pages were added — according to The Life and 
 Letters of Captain Marryat — by another hand, when it 
 came out in book form. 
 
 There are two special features in Falerie, beyond its 
 actual merits, that inevitably excite our attention. It is 
 Marryat's last work, and the only one in which the interest 
 centres entirely on women. For this reason, and from the 
 eighteenth century flavour in some of its characters, the 
 
viii Prefatory Note 
 
 book inevitably recalls Miss Burney and her little-read 
 The Wanderer, in which, as in Valerie, a proud and sensitive 
 girl is thrown on the world, and discovers — by bitter 
 experience as governess, companion, and music mistress — 
 the sneer that lurks beneath the smile of fashion and 
 prosperity. 
 
 The subject is well handled, on the old familiar lines, 
 and supplies the groundwork of an eminently readable 
 story, peopled by many life-like " humours " and an 
 attractive, spirited heroine. The adventures of Valerie 
 are various and well-sustained ; her bearing throughout 
 secures the reader's sympathy, and he is conscious of a 
 genuine pleasure in her ultimate prosperity and happiness. 
 
 Valerie, an autobiography, is here reprinted from the first 
 edition in two volumes. Henry Colburn, 1849. 
 
 R. B. J. 
 
 After Marryat's death a fragment of a story for the 
 "Juvenile Library" was found in his desk, and has been 
 published in the Life and Letters by Florence Marryat. 
 It describes the experience of a man who, like Marryat 
 himself, was compelled by the failure of speculations to 
 live in the country and manage his own estate. It was 
 projected '* because few young people have any knowledge 
 of farming, and there are no books written by which any 
 knowledge of it may be imparted to children." Marryat 
 himself was not a very successful farmer, but probably his 
 theory was in advance of his practice. 
 
Valerie 
 
 Chapter I 
 
 I HAVE titled these pages with nothing more than my 
 baptismal name. If the reader finds sufficient interest in 
 them to read to the end, he will discover the position that 
 I am in, after an eventful life. I shall, however, not 
 trespass upon his time by making many introductory 
 remarks ; but commence at once with my birth, parentage, 
 and education. This is necessary, as although the two 
 first are, perhaps, of little comparative consequence, still 
 the latter is of importance, as it will prepare the reader 
 for many events in my after-life. I may add, that much 
 depends upon birth and parentage ; at all events, it is 
 necessary to complete a perfect picture. Let me, there- 
 fore, begin at the beginning. 
 
 I was born in France. My father, who was of the 
 ancienne noblesse of France, by a younger branch of the 
 best blood, and was a most splendid specimen of the 
 outward man, was the son of an old officer, and an officer 
 himself in the army of Napoleon. In the conquest of 
 Italy, he had served in the ranks, and continuing to follow 
 Napoleon through all his campaigns, had arrived to the 
 grade of captain of cavalry. He had distinguished himself 
 on many occasions, was a favourite of the Emperor's, wore 
 the cross of the Legion of Honour, and was considered in 
 a fair way to rapid promotion, when he committed a great 
 error. During the time that his squadron was occupying 
 a small German town, situated on the river Erbach, called 
 
 V A 
 
2 Valerie 
 
 Deux Fonts, he saw my mother, fell desperately in love, 
 and married. There was some excuse for him, for a more 
 beautiful woman than my mother I never beheld ; more- 
 over, she was highly talented, and a most perfect musician; 
 of a good family, and with a dower by no means con- 
 temptible. 
 
 The reader may say that, in marrying such a woman, 
 my father could hardly be said to have committed a very 
 great error. This is true, the error was not in marrying, 
 but in allowing his wife's influence over him to stop his 
 future advancement. He wished to leave her with her 
 father and mother until the campaign was over. She 
 refused to be left, and he yielded to her wishes. Now, 
 Napoleon had no objection to his officers being married, 
 but a very great dislike to their wives accompanying the 
 army ; and this was the fault which my father committed, 
 and which lost him the favour of his general. My mother 
 was too beautiful a woman not to be noticed, and im- 
 mediately inquired about, and the knowledge soon came to 
 Napoleon's ears, and militated against my father's future 
 advancement. 
 
 During the first year of their marriage, my eldest 
 brother, Auguste, was born, and shortly afterwards my 
 mother promised an increase to the family, which was the 
 occasion of great satisfaction to my father, who now that 
 he had been married more than a year, would at times look 
 at my mother, and, beautiful as she was, calculate in his 
 mind whether the possession of her was indemnification 
 sufficient for the loss of the brigade which she had cost 
 him. 
 
 To account for my father's satisfaction, I must acquaint 
 the reader with circumstances which are not very well 
 known. As I before observed. Napoleon had no objection 
 to marriage, because he required men for his army ; and 
 because he required men, and not women, he thought very 
 poorly of a married couple who produced a plurality of 
 girls. If, on the contrary, a woman presented her husband 
 with six or seven boys, if he was an officer in the army, he 
 
Valerie 3 
 
 was certain of a pension for life. Now, as my mother had 
 commenced with a boy, and it is well known that there is 
 every chance of a woman continuing to produce the sex 
 which first makes its appearance, she was much com- 
 plimented and congratulated by the officers when she so 
 soon gave signs of an increase, and they prophesied that she 
 would, by her fruitfulness, in a few years obtain a pension 
 for her husband. My father hoped so, and thought that if 
 he had lost the brigade, he would be indemnified by the 
 pension. My mother was certain of it ; and declared it 
 was a boy. 
 
 But prophesies, hopes, and declarations, were all falsified 
 and overthrown by my unfortunate appearance. The dis- 
 appointment of my father was great ; but he bore it like 
 a man. My mother was not only disappointed, but 
 indignant. She felt mortified after all her declarations, 
 that I should have appeared and disproved them. She 
 was a woman of violent temper, a discovery which my 
 father made too late. To me, as the cause of her 
 humiliation and disappointment, she took an aversion, 
 which only increased as I grew up, and which, as will 
 be hereafter shown, was the main spring of all my 
 vicissitudes in after-life. 
 
 Surely, there is an error in asserting that there is no 
 feeling so strong as maternal love. How often do we 
 witness instances like mine, in which disappointed vanity, 
 ambition, or interest, have changed this love into deadly 
 hate! 
 
 My father, who felt the inconvenience of my mother 
 accompanying him on forced marches, and who, perhaps, 
 being disappointed in his hopes of a pension, thought 
 that he might as well recover the Emperor's favour, 
 and look for the brigade, now proposed that my mother 
 should return with her two children to her parents. This 
 my mother, who had always gained the upper-hand, 
 positively refused to accede to. She did, however, allow 
 me and my brother Auguste to be sent to her parents' 
 care at Deux Fonts, and there we remained while my 
 
4 Valerie 
 
 father followed the fortunes of the Emperor, and my 
 mother followed the fortunes of my father. I have little 
 or no recollection of my maternal grandfather and grand- 
 mother. I remember that I lived with them, as I remained 
 there with my brother till I was seven years old, at which 
 period my paternal grandmother offered to receive my 
 brother and me, and take charge of our education. This 
 offer was accepted, and we both went to Luneville where 
 she resided. 
 
 I have said that my paternal grandmother offered to 
 receive us, and not my paternal grandfather, who was 
 still alive. Such was the case ; as, could he have had 
 his own way, he would not have allowed us to come 
 to Luneville, for he had a great dislike to children •, but 
 my grandmother had property of her own, independent 
 of her husband, and she insisted upon our coming. Very 
 often, after we had been received into her house, I would 
 hear remonstrance on his part relative to the expense of 
 keeping us, and the reply of my grandmother, which 
 would be, ^' Eh bien, Monsieur Chatenceuf, c'est mon argent 
 que je depense." I must describe Monsieur Chatenoeuf. 
 As I before stated, he had been an officer in the French 
 army ; but had now retired upon his pension, with the 
 rank of major, and decorated with the Legion of Honour. 
 At the time that I first saw him, he was a tall, elegant 
 old man, with hair as white as silver. I heard it said, 
 that when young he was considered one of the bravest 
 and handsomest officers in the French army. He was 
 very quiet in his manners, spoke very little, and took 
 a large quantity of snuff. He was egotistic to excess, 
 attending wholly to himself and his own comforts, and 
 it was because the noise of children interfered with his 
 comfort, that he disliked them so much. We saw little 
 of him, and cared less. If I came into his room when 
 he was alone, he promised me a good whipping, I there- 
 fore avoided him as much as I could ; the association was 
 not pleasant. 
 
 Luneville is a beautiful town in the Department of 
 
Valerie 5 
 
 Meurthe. The castle, or rather palace, is a very splendid 
 and spacious building, in which formerly the Dukes of 
 Lorraine held their court. It was afterwards inhabited by 
 King Stanislaus, who founded a military school, a library 
 and a hospital. The palace was a square building, with a 
 handsome facade facing the town, and in front of it there 
 was a fountain. There was a large square in the centre of 
 the palace, and behind it an extensive garden, which was 
 well kept up and carefully attended to. One side of the 
 palace was occupied by the officers of the regiments 
 quartered in Luneville ; the opposite side, by the soldiery ; 
 and the remainder of the building was appropriated to the 
 reception of old retired officers who had been pensioned. 
 It was in this beautiful building, that my grandfather and 
 grandmother were established for the remainder of their 
 lives. Except the Tuileries, I know of no palace in France 
 equal to that of Luneville. Here it was that, at seven 
 years old, I took up my quarters ; and it is from that 
 period that I have always dated my existence. 
 
 I have described my grandfather and my residence, but 
 now I must introduce my grandmother ; my dear, excellent, 
 grandmother, whom I loved so much when she was living, 
 and whose memory I shall ever revere. In person she was 
 rather diminutive, but, although sixty years of age, she 
 still retained her figure, which was remarkably pretty, and 
 she was as straight as an arrow. Never had age pressed 
 more lightly upon the human frame ; for, strange to say, 
 her hair was black as jet, and fell down to her knees. It 
 was considered a great curiosity, and she was not a little 
 proud of it, for there was not a grey hair to be seen. 
 Although she had lost many of her teeth, her skin was not 
 wrinkled, but had a freshness most remarkable in a person 
 so advanced in years. Her mind was as young as her 
 body ; she was very witty and coquettish, and the officers 
 living in the palace were continually in her apartments, 
 preferring her company to that of younger women. Partial 
 to children, she would join in all our sports, and sit down 
 to play "hunt the slipper," with us and our young com- 
 
6 Valerie 
 
 panions. But with all her vivacity, she was a strictly 
 moral and religious woman. She could be lenient to indis- 
 cretion and carelessness, but any deviation from truth and 
 honesty on the part of my brother or myself, was certain 
 to be visited with severe punishment. She argued, that 
 there could be no virtue, where there was deceit, which 
 she considered as the hot-bed from which every vice would 
 spring out spontaneously ; that truth was the basis of all 
 that was good and noble, and that every other branch of 
 education was, comparatively speaking, of no importance, 
 and, without truth, of no value. She was right. 
 
 My brother and I were both sent to day-schools. The 
 maid Catherine always took me to school after breakfast, 
 and came to fetch me home about four o'clock in the after- 
 noon. Those were happy times. "With what joy I used 
 to return to the palace, bounding into my grandmother's 
 apartment on the ground floor, sometimes to frighten her, 
 leaping in at the window and dropping at her feet, the old 
 lady scolding and laughing at the same time. My grand- 
 mother was, as I observed, religious, but she was not a 
 devotee. The great object was to instil into me a love of 
 truth, and in this she was indefatigable. When I did 
 wrong, it was not the fault I had committed which caused 
 her concern ; it was the fear that I should deny it, which 
 worried and alarmed her. To prevent this, the old lady 
 had a curious method— she dreamed for my benefit. If I 
 had done wrong, and she suspected me, she would not 
 accuse me until she had made such inquiries as convinced 
 her that I was the guilty person ; and then, perhaps, the 
 next morning, she would say, as I stood by her side : 
 " Valerie, I had a dream last night ; I can't get it out of 
 my head. I dreamt that my little girl had forgotten her 
 promise to me, and when she went to the store-room had 
 eaten a large piece of the cake." 
 
 She would fix her eyes upon me as she narrated the 
 events of her dream, and, as she proceeded, my face would 
 be covered with blushes, and my eyes cast down in 
 confusion ; I dared not look at her, and by the lime that 
 
Valerie 7 
 
 she had finished, I was down on my knees, with my face 
 buried in her lap. If my offence was great, I had to say 
 my prayers, and implore the Divine forgiveness, and was 
 sent to prison, that is, locked up for a few hours in my 
 bedroom. Catherine, the maid, had been many years with 
 my grandmother, and was, to a certain degree, a privileged 
 person ; at all events, she considered herself warranted in 
 giving her opinion, and grumbling as much as she pleased, 
 and such was invariably the case whenever I was locked 
 up. " Toujours en prison^ cette pauvre petite. It is too bad, 
 madam ; you must let her out." My grandmother would 
 quietly reply, " Catherine, you are a good woman, but you 
 understand nothing about the education of children." 
 Sometimes, however, she obtained the key from my grand- 
 mother, and I was released sooner than was originally 
 intended. 
 
 The fact is, that being put in prison was a very heavy 
 punishment, as it invariably took place in the evenings, 
 after my return from school, so that I lost my play-hours. 
 There were a great many officers with their wives located 
 in the palace, and, of course, no want of playmates. The 
 girls used to go to the bosquet, which adjoined the gardens 
 of the palace, collect flowers, and make a garland, which 
 they hung on a rope stretched across the court-yard of the 
 palace. As the day closed in, the party from each house, 
 or apartments rather, brought out a lantern, and having 
 thus illuminated our ballroom by subscription, the boys 
 and girls danced the "roW<?," and other games, until it 
 was bedtime. As the window of my bedroom looked 
 out upon the court, whenever I was put into prison, I had 
 the mortification of witnessing all these joyous games, 
 without being permitted to join in them. 
 
 To prove the effect of my grandmother's system of 
 dreaming upon me, I will narrate a circumstance which 
 occurred. My grandfather had a landed property about 
 four miles from Luneville. A portion of this land was let 
 to a farmer, and the remainder he farmed on his own 
 account, and the produce was consumed in the house- 
 
8 Valerie 
 
 keeping. From this farm we received milk, butter, cheese, 
 all kinds of fruit, and indeed everything which a farm 
 produces. In that part of France they have a method of 
 melting down and clarifying butter for winter use, instead 
 of salting it. This not only preserves it, but, to most 
 people, makes it more palatable j at all events I can 
 answer for myself, for I was inordinately fond of it. 
 There were eighteen or twenty jars of it in the store- 
 room, which were used up in rotation. I dared not take 
 any out of the jar in use, as I should be certain to be 
 discovered ; so I went to the last jar, and by my repeated 
 assaults upon it, it was nearly empty before my grand- 
 mother discovered it. As usual, she had a dream. She 
 commenced with counting over the number of jars of 
 butter ; and how she opened such a one, and it was full ; 
 and then the next, and it was full ; but before her dream was 
 half over, and while she was still a long way from the jar 
 which I had despoiled, I was on my knees, telling her the 
 end of the dream, of my own accord, for I could not bear 
 the suspense of having all the jars examined. From that 
 time, I generally made a full confession before the dream 
 was ended. 
 
 But when I was about nine years old, I was guilty of a 
 very heavy offence, which I shall narrate, on account of 
 the peculiar punishment which I received, and which might 
 be advantageously pursued by the parents of the present 
 day, who may happen to cast their eyes over these 
 memoirs. It was the custom for the children of the 
 officers who lived in the palace, that is, the girls, to club 
 together occasionally, that they might have a little fete in 
 the garden of the palace. It was a sort of pic-nic, to 
 which every one contributed ; some would bring cakes, 
 some fruit j some would bring money (a few sous) to 
 purchase bon-bons, or anything else which might be agreed 
 upon. 
 
 On those occasions, my grandmother invariably gave me 
 fruit, a very liberal allowance of apples and pears, from the 
 store-room ; for we had plenty from the orchard of the 
 
Valerie 9 
 
 farm. But one day, one of the elder girls told me that 
 they had plenty of fruit, and that I must bring some money. 
 I asked my grandmother, but she refused me ; and then 
 this girl proposed that I should steal some from my grand- 
 father. I objected ; but she ridiculed my objections, and 
 pressed me until she overcame my scruples, and I consented. 
 But when I left her after she had obtained my promise, I 
 was in a sad state. I knew it was wicked to steal, and the 
 girl had taken care to point out to me how wicked it was 
 to break a promise. I did not know what to do : all that 
 evening I was in such a state of feverish excitement, that 
 my grandmother was quite astonished. The fact was, that 
 I was ashamed to retract my promise, and yet I trembled 
 at the deed that I was about to do. I went into my room 
 and got into bed. I remained awake ; and about midnight 
 I got up, and creeping softly into my grandfather's room, 
 I went to his clothes, which were on a chair, and rifled his 
 pockets of — two sous ! 
 
 Having effected my purpose, I retired stealthily, and 
 gained my own room. What my feelings were when I 
 was again in bed I cannot well describe — they were horrible 
 — I could not shut my eyes for the remainder of the night 
 and the next morning I made my appearance, haggard, 
 pale, and trembling. It proved, however, that my grand- 
 father who was awake, had witnessed the theft in silence, 
 and informed my grandmother of it. Before I went to 
 school, my grandmother called me in to her, for I had 
 avoided her. 
 
 ** Come here, Valerie," said she, ** I have had a dream 
 — a most dreadful dream — it was about a little girl, who, 
 in the middle of the night, crept into her grandfather's 
 room " 
 
 I could bear no more. I threw myself on the floor, and, 
 in agony, screamed out — 
 
 ** Yes, grandmamma, and stole two sous." 
 
 A paroxysm of tears followed the confession, and for 
 more than an hour I remained on the floor, hiding my face 
 and sobbing. My grandmother allowed me to remain there 
 
I o Valerie 
 
 — she was very much annoyed — I had commited a crime of 
 the first magnitude — my punishment was severe. I was 
 locked up in my room for ten days : but this was the 
 smallest portion of the punishment : every visitor that came 
 in, I was sent for, and on my making my appearance, my 
 grandmother would take me by the hand, and leading me 
 up, would formally present me to the visitors. 
 
 "Permettez, madame (ou monsieur), que je vous 
 presente Mademoiselle Valerie, qui est enfermee dans sa 
 chambre, pour avoir vole deux sous de son grand-pere." 
 
 Oh ! the shame, the mortification that I felt. This 
 would take place at least ten times a day ; and each suc- 
 ceeding presentation was followed by a burst of tears, 
 as I was again led back to my chamber. Severe as this 
 punishment was, the effect of it was excellent. I would 
 have endured martyrdom, after what I had gone through, 
 before I would have taken what was not my own. It was 
 a painful, but a judicious, and most radical cure. 
 
 For five years I remained under the care of this most 
 estimable woman, and, under her guidance, had become a 
 truthful and religious girl ; and I may conscientiously add, 
 that I was as innocent as a lamb — but a change was at 
 hand. The Emperor had been hurled from his throne, 
 and was shut up on a barren rock, and soon great altera- 
 tions were made in the French army. My father's 
 regiment of huzzars had been disbanded, and he was now 
 appointed to a dragoon regiment, which was ordered to 
 Luneville. He arrived with my mother and a numerous 
 family, she having presented him with seven more 
 children ; so that, with Auguste and me, he had now nine 
 children. I may as well here observe that my mother 
 continued to add yearly to the family, till she had fourteen 
 in all, and out of these there were seven boys ; so that, 
 had the Emperor remained on the throne of France, my 
 father would certainly have secured the pension. 
 
 The arrival of my family was a source both of pleasure 
 and pain to me. I was most anxious to see all my brothers 
 and sisters, and my heart yearned towards my father and 
 
Valerie 1 1 
 
 mother, although I had no recollection of them ; but I 
 was fearful that I should be removed from my grand- 
 mother's care, and she was equally alarmed at the chance 
 of our separation. Unfortunately for me, it turned out as 
 we had anticipated. My mother was anything but 
 gracious to my grandmother, notwithstanding the obliga- 
 tions she was under to her, and very soon took an 
 opportunity of quarrelling with her. The cause of the 
 quarrel was very absurd, and proved that it was predeter- 
 mined on the part of my mother. My grandmother had 
 some curious old carved furniture, which my mother 
 coveted, and requested my grandmother to let her have it. 
 This my grandmother would not consent to, and my 
 mother took offence at her refusal. I and my brother 
 were immediately ordered home, my mother asserting that 
 we had been both very badly brought up ; and this was 
 all the thanks that my grandmother received for her 
 kindness to us, and defraying all our expenses for five years. 
 I had not been at home more than a week, when my 
 father's regiment was ordered to Nance ; but, during this 
 short period, I had sufficient to convince me that I should 
 be very miserable. My mother's dislike to me, which I 
 have referred to before, now assumed the character of 
 positive hatred, and I was very ill-treated. I was 
 employed as a servant, and as nurse to the younger 
 children ; and hardly a day passed without my feeling the 
 weight of her hand. We set off for Nance, and I thought 
 my heart would break as I quitted the arms of my grand- 
 mother, who wept over me. My father was very willing 
 to leave me with my grandmother, who promised to leave 
 her property to me ; but this offer in my favour enraged 
 my mother still more ; she declared that I should not 
 remain ; and my father had long succumbed to her 
 termagant disposition, and yielded implicit obedience to 
 her authority. It was lamentable to see such a fine 
 soldierlike man afraid even to speak before this woman ; 
 but he was completely under her thraldom, and never 
 dared to contradict. 
 
1 2 Valerie 
 
 As soon as we were settled in the barracks at Nance, 
 my mother commenced her system of persecution in down- 
 right earnest. I had to make all the beds, wash the 
 children, carry out the baby, and do every menial office 
 for my brothers and sisters, who were encouraged to order 
 me about. I had very good clothes, which had been 
 provided me by my grandmother ; they were all taken 
 away, and altered for my younger sisters ; but what was 
 still more mortifying, all my sisters had lessons in music, 
 dancing, and other accomplishments, from various masters, 
 whose instructions I was not permitted to take advantage 
 of, although there would have been no addition to the 
 expense. 
 
 *' Oh ! my father," cried I, " why is this ? — what have I 
 done .'' — am not I your daughter — your eldest daughter ? " 
 
 " I will speak to your mother," replied he. 
 
 And he did venture to do so ; but by so doing, he 
 raised up such a tempest, that he was glad to drop the 
 subject, and apologise for an act of justice. Poor man ! 
 he could do no more than pity me. 
 
 I well remember my feelings at that time. I felt that I 
 could love my mother, love her dearly, if she would have 
 allowed me so to do. I had tried to obtain her good-will, 
 but I received nothing in return but blows, and at last I 
 became so alarmed when in her presence that I almost lost 
 my reason. My ears were boxed till I could not recollect 
 where I was, and I became stupefied with fear. All I 
 thought of, all my anxiety, at last, was to get out of the 
 room where my mother was. My terror was so great that 
 her voice made me tremble, and at the sight of her I caught 
 my breath and gasped from alarm. My brother Auguste 
 was very nearly as much an object of dislike to my mother 
 as I was, chiefly because he had been brought up by my 
 grandmother, and moreover because he would take my 
 part. 
 
 The great favourite of my mother was my second brother 
 Nicolas ; he was a wonderful musician, could play upon 
 any instrument and the most difficult music at sight. This 
 
Valerie 1 3 
 
 talent endeared him to my mother, who was herself a first- 
 rate musician. He was permitted to order me about just 
 as he pleased, and if I did not please him, to beat me 
 without mercy, and very often my mother would fly at me 
 and assist him. But Auguste took my part, and Nicolas 
 received very severe chastisement from him, but this did 
 not help me ; on the contrary, if Auguste interfered in my 
 behalf, my mother would pouuce upon me, and I may say 
 that I was stunned with her blows. Auguste appealed to 
 his father, but he dared not interfere. He was coward 
 enough to sit by and see his daughter treated in this way 
 without remonstrance ; and, in a short time, I was fast 
 approaching to what my mother declared me to be — a 
 perfect idiot. 
 
 I trust that my own sex will not think me a renegade 
 when I say, that, if ever there was a proof that woman 
 was intended by the Creator to be subject to man, it is, 
 that once place power in the hands of woman, and there is 
 not one out of a hundred who will not abuse it. We hear 
 much of the rights of woman, and their wrongs ; but this 
 is certain, that in a family, as in a State, there can be no 
 divided rule — no equality. One must be master, and no 
 family is so badly managed, or so badly brought up, as 
 where the law of nature is reversed, and we contemplate 
 that most despicable of all lusi nature — a hen-pecked 
 husband. To proceed, the consequence of my mother's 
 treatment, was to undermine in me all the precepts of my 
 worthy grandmother. I was a slave ; and a slave under 
 the continual influence of fear cannot be honest. The 
 fear of punishment produced deceit to avoid it. Even my 
 brother Auguste, from his regard and pity for me, would 
 fall into the same error. " Valerie," he would say, running 
 out to me as I was coming home with my little brother in 
 my arms, "your mother will beat you on your return. 
 You must say so and so." This so and so was, of course, 
 an untruth ; and, in consequence, my fibs were so awkward, 
 and accompanied by so much hesitation and blushing, that 
 I was invariably found out, and then punished for what I 
 
14 Valerie 
 
 did not deserve to be ; and when my mother obtained such 
 triumphant proof against me, she did not fail to make the 
 most of it with my father, who, by degrees, began to 
 consider that my treatment was merited, and that I was a 
 bad and deceitful child. 
 
 My only happiness was to be out in the open air, away 
 from my mother's presence, and this was only to be 
 obtained when I was ordered out with my little brother 
 Pierre, whom I had to carry as soon as I had done the house- 
 hold work. If Pierre was fractious, my mother would order 
 me out of the house with him immediately. This I knew, 
 and I used to pinch the poor child to make him cry, that 
 I might gain my object, and be sent away ; so that to 
 duplicity I added cruelty. Six months before this, had any 
 one told me that I ever would be guilty of such a thing, 
 with what indignation I should have denied it ! 
 
 Although my mother flattered herself that it was only in 
 her own domestic circle that her unnatural conduct towards 
 me was known, such was not the case, and the treat- 
 ment which I received from her was the occasion of much 
 sympathy on the part of the officers and their wives, who 
 were quartered in the barracks. Some of them ventured 
 to remonstrate with my father for his consenting to it ; 
 but although he was cowed by a woman, he had no fear 
 of men, and as he told them candidly that any future 
 interference in his domestic concerns must be answered 
 by the sword, no more was said to him on the subject. 
 Strange, that a man should risk his life with such in- 
 difference, rather than remedy an evil, and yet be under 
 such thraldom to a woman ! — that one who was always 
 distinguished in action as the most forward and the most 
 brave, should be a trembling coward before an imperious 
 wife ! But this is a world of sad contradictions. 
 
 There was a lady in the barracks, wife to one of the 
 superior officers, who was very partial to me. She had 
 a daughter, a very sweet girl, who was also named 
 Valerie. When I could escape from the house, I used 
 to be constantly with them ; and when I saw my name- 
 
Valerie 15 
 
 sake caressing and caressed, in the arms of her mother, 
 as I was sitting by on a stool, the tears would run down 
 at the thoughts that such pleasure was debarred from me. 
 
 '' Why do you cry, Valerie ? " 
 
 " Oh ! madam, why have I not a mother like your 
 Valerie ? Why am I to be beat instead of being caressed 
 and fondled like her ? What have I done ? — ^But she is 
 not my mother — I'm sure she cannot be — I will never 
 believe it ! " 
 
 And such had really become my conviction, and in 
 consequence I never would address her by the title of 
 mother. This my mother perceived, and it only added 
 to her ill-will. Only permit any one feeling or passion 
 to master you — allow it to increase by never being in the 
 slightest degree checked, and it is horrible to what an 
 excess it will carry you. About this time, my mother 
 proved the truth of the above observation, by saying to 
 me, as she struck me to the ground — 
 
 '*ril kill you," cried she; and then, catching her 
 breath, said in a low, determined tone, '* Oh ! I only wish 
 that I dared." 
 
 Chapter II 
 
 One day, a short time after this, I was walking out as 
 usual with my little brother Pierre in my arms ; I was deep 
 in thought ; in imagination I was at Luneville with my dear 
 grandmother, when my foot slipped and I fell. In trying 
 to save my brother I hurt myself very much, and he, poor 
 child, was unfortunately very much hurt as well as myself. 
 He cried and moaned piteously, and I did all that I could to 
 console him, but he was in too much pain to be comforted. 
 I remained out for an hour or two, not daring to go home, 
 but the evening was closing in and I returned at last. 
 The child, who could not yet speak, still moaned and 
 cried, and I told the truth as to the cause of it. My 
 mother flew at me, and I received such chastisement that 
 
1 6 Valerie 
 
 I could be patient no longer, and I pushed my mother 
 from me ; I was felled to the ground and left there 
 bleeding profusely. 
 
 After a time I rose up and crawled to bed. I reflected 
 upon all I had suffered, and made up my mind that I would 
 no longer remain under my father's roof. At daybreak 
 I dressed myself, hastened out of the barracks, and set 
 off for Luneville, which was fifteen miles distant. I 
 had gained about half the way when I was met by a 
 soldier of the regiment who had once been our servant. 
 I tried to avoid him, but he recognised me. I then 
 begged him not to interfere with me, and told him that 
 I was running away to my grandmother's. Jacques, for 
 that was his name, replied that I was right, and that 
 he would say nothing about it. 
 
 " But, mademoiselle," continued he, " you will be tired 
 before you get to Luneville, and may have a chance of 
 a conveyance if you have money to pay for it." 
 
 He then slipped a five-franc piece into my hand, and 
 left me to pursue my way. I continued my journey, and 
 at last arrived at the farm belonging to my grandfather, 
 which I have before mentioned, as being about four miles 
 from the town. I was afraid to go direct to Luneville, 
 on account of my grandfather, who, I knew from motives 
 of parsimony, would be unwilling to receive me. I told 
 my history to the farmer's wife, showing her my face 
 covered with bruises and scars, and entreated her to go 
 to my grandmother's and tell her where I was. She put 
 me to bed, and the next morning set off for Luneville, 
 and acquainted my grandmother with the circumstances. 
 The old lady immediately ordered her char-a-banc and 
 drove out for me. There was proof positive of my 
 mother's cruelty, and the good old woman shed tears 
 over me when she had pulled off the humble blue cotton 
 dress which I wore and examined my wounds and bruises. 
 When we arrived at Luneville, we met with much 
 opposition from my grandfather, but my grandmother 
 was resolute. 
 
Valerie 1 7 
 
 " Since you object to my receiving her in the house," 
 said she, " at all events you cannot prevent my doing 
 my duty towards her, and doing as I please with my 
 own money. I shall, therefore, send her to school and 
 pay her expenses." 
 
 As soon as new clothes could be made for me, I was 
 sent to the best pension in Luneville. Shortly afterwards 
 my father arrived ; he had been despatched by my mother 
 to reclaim me and bring me back with him, but he found 
 the tide too strong against him, and my grandmother 
 threatened to appeal to the authorities and make an ex- 
 posure ; this he knew would be a serious injury to his 
 character, and he was therefore compelled to go back 
 without me, and I remained a year and a half at the 
 pension, very happy and improving very fast in my 
 education and my personal appearance. 
 
 But I was not destined to be so happy long. True it 
 was, that during this year and a half of tranquillity and 
 happiness, the feelings created by my mother's treatment 
 had softened down, and all animosity had long been 
 discarded, but I was too happy to want to return home 
 again. At the expiration of this year and a half, my 
 father's regiment was again ordered to shift their quarters 
 to a small town, the name of which I now forget, but 
 Luneville lay in their route. My mother had for some 
 time ceased to importune my father about my return. 
 The fact was, that she had been so coldly treated by the 
 other ladies at Nance, in consequence of her behaviour 
 to me, that she did not think it advisable y but now that 
 they were about to remove, she insisted upon my father 
 taking me with him, promising that I should be well- 
 treated, and have the same instruction as my sisters 5 in 
 fact, she promised everything ; acknowledging to my 
 grandmother that she had been too hasty to me, and was 
 very sorry for it. Even my brother Auguste thought 
 that she was now sincere, and my father, my brother, 
 and even my dear grandmother, persuaded me to consent. 
 My mother was now very kind and affectionate towards 
 
1 8 Valerie 
 
 me, and as I really wanted to love her, I left the pension 
 and accompanied the family to their new quarters. 
 
 But this was all treachery on the part of my mother. 
 Regardless of my advantage, as she had shown herself 
 on every occasion, she had played her part that she might 
 have an opportunity of discharging an accumulated debt of 
 revenge, which had been heaped up in consequence of the 
 slights she had received from other people on account of 
 her treatment of me. We had hardly been settled in our 
 new abode, before my mother burst out again with a viru- 
 lence which exceeded all her former cruelty. But I was 
 no longer the frightened victim that I had been ; I com- 
 plained to my father, and insisted upon justice ; but that 
 was useless. My brother Auguste now took my part in 
 defiance of his father, and it was one scene of continual 
 family discord. I had made many friends, and used to 
 remain at their houses all day. As for doing household 
 work, notwithstanding her blows, I refused it. One 
 morning my mother was chastising me severely, when my 
 brother Auguste, who was dressed in his hussar uniform, 
 came in and hastened to my assistance, interposing 
 himself between us. My mother's rage was beyond all 
 bounds. 
 
 " Wretch," cried she, " would you strike your 
 mother } " 
 
 " No," replied he, " but I will protect my sister. You 
 barbarous woman, why do you not kill her at once, it 
 would be a kindness ? " 
 
 It was after this scene that I resolved that I would again 
 return to Luneville. I did not confide my intentions to 
 anyone, not even to Auguste. There was a great difficulty 
 in getting out of the front door without being perceived, 
 and my bundle would have created suspicion ; by the back 
 of the house the only exit was through a barred window. 
 I was then fourteen years old but very slight in figure. 
 I tried if my head would pass through the bars, and 
 succeeding, I soon forced my body through, and seizing 
 my bundle, made all haste to the diligence office. I found 
 
Valerie 19 
 
 that it was about to start for Luneville, which was more 
 than half a day's journey distant. I got in very quickly, 
 and the conducteur knowing me, thought that all was 
 right, and the diligence drove off. 
 
 There were two people in the coupe with me, an officer 
 and his wife ; before we had proceeded far they asked me 
 where I was going, I replied to my grandmother's at Lune- 
 ville. Thinking it, however, strange that I should be 
 unaccompanied, they questioned, until they extracted the 
 whole history from me. The lady wished me to come to 
 her on a visit, but the husband, more prudent, said that I 
 was better under the care of my grandmother. 
 
 About mid-day we stopped to change horses at an 
 auberge called the Louis d'Or, about a quarter of a mile 
 from Luneville. Here I alighted without offering any 
 explanation to the conducteur ; but as he knew me and 
 my grandmother well, that was of no consequence. My 
 reason for alighting was, that the diligence would have 
 put me down at the front of the palace, where I was 
 certain to meet my grandfather, who passed the major 
 portion of the day there, basking on one of the seats, and 
 I was afraid to see him until I had communicated with my 
 grandmother. I had an uncle in the town, and I had 
 been very intimate with my cousin Marie, who was a 
 pretty, kind-hearted girl, and I resolved that I would go 
 there, and beg her to go to my grandmother. The diffi- 
 culty was, how to get to the house without passing the 
 front of the palace, or even the bridge across the river. 
 At last I decided that I would walk down by the river side 
 until I was opposite to the bosquet, which adjoined the 
 garden of the palace, and there wait till it was low water, 
 when I knew that the river could be forded, as I had often 
 seen others do so. 
 
 When I arrived opposite to the bosquet I sat down on 
 my bundle, by the banks of the river for two or three 
 hours, watching the long feathery weeds at the bottom, 
 which moved gently from one side to the other with the 
 current of the stream As soon as it was low water, I 
 
20 Valerie 
 
 pulled off my shoes and stockings, put them into my 
 bundle, and raising my petticoats, I gained the opposite 
 shore without difficulty. I then replaced my shoes and 
 stockings, crossed the bosquet, and gained my uncle's 
 house. My uncle was not at home, but I told my story 
 and showed my bruises to Marie, who immediately put on 
 her bonnet and went to my grandmother. That night I 
 was again installed in my own little bedroom, and most 
 gratefully did I pray before I went to sleep. 
 
 This time my grandmother took more decided steps. 
 She went to the commandant of the town, taking me with 
 her, pointing out the treatment which I had received, and 
 claiming his protection ; she stated that she had educated 
 me and brought me up, and that she had a claim upon me. 
 My mother's treatment of me was so notorious, that the 
 commandant immediately decided that my grandmother had 
 a right to detain me ; and when my father came a day or 
 two after to take me back, he was ordered home by the 
 commandant, with a severe rebuke, and the assurance that 
 I should not return to a father who could permit such 
 cruelty and injustice. 
 
 I was now once more happy ; but as I remained in the 
 house, my grandfather was continually vexing my grand- 
 mother on my account ; nevertheless, I remained there 
 more than a year, during which I learnt a great deal, 
 particularly lace-work and fine embroidery, at which I 
 became very expert. But now there was another opposi- 
 tion raised, which was on the part of my uncle, who joined 
 my grandfather in annoying the old lady. The fact was, 
 that when I was not there, my grandmother was very kind 
 and generous to my cousin Marie, who certainly deserved 
 it ; but now that I was again with her, all her presents and 
 expenses were lavished upon me, and poor Marie was 
 neglected. 
 
 My uncle was not pleased at this ; he joined my grand- 
 father, and they pointed out that I was now more than 
 fifteen, and my mother dare not beat me, and as my father 
 was continually writing for me to return, it was her duty 
 
Valerie 1 1 
 
 not to oppose. Between the two, my poor grandmother 
 was so annoyed and perplexed that she hardly knew what 
 to do. They made her miserable, and at last they worried 
 her into consenting that I should return to my family 
 which had now removed to Colmar. I did not know this. 
 It was my grandmother's birthday. I had worked for her 
 a beautiful sachet in lace and embroidery, which, with a 
 large bouquet, I brought to her as a present. The old 
 lady folded me in her arms and burst into tears. She then 
 told me that we must part, and that I must return to my 
 father's. Had a dagger been thrust to my heart, I could 
 not have received more anguish. 
 
 " Yes, dear Valerie," continued she, " you must leave 
 me to-morrow ; I can no longer prevent it. I have not the 
 health and spirits that I had. I am growing old — very 
 old." 
 
 I did not remonstrate or try to make her alter her 
 decision. I knew how much she had been annoyed and 
 worried for my sake, and I felt that I would bear every- 
 thing for hers. I cried bitterly. The next morning my 
 father made his appearance and embraced me with great 
 affection. He was much pleased with my personal improve- 
 ment. I was now fast budding into womanhood, although 
 I had the feelings of a mere child. I bade farewell to my 
 grandmother, and also to my grandfather, whom I never 
 saw again, as he died three months after I quitted Lune- 
 ville. 
 
 I trust my readers will not think that I dwell too long 
 upon this portion of my life. I do it because I consider it 
 is necessary they should know in what manner I was 
 brought up, and also the cause of my leaving my family, 
 as I afterwards did. If I had stated merely that I could 
 not agree with my mother, who treated me cruelly, they 
 might have imagined that I was not warranted, in a 
 moment of irritation, in taking such a decided step ; but 
 when they learn that my persecutions were renewed the 
 moment that I was again in my mother's power, and that 
 nothing could conquer her inveteracy against me, neither 
 
22 Valerie 
 
 time, nor absence, nor submission on my part, nor remon- 
 strance from others ; not even a regard for her own 
 character, nor the loss of her friends and acquaintances, 
 they will then acknowledge that I could have done no 
 otherwise, unless I preferred being in daily risk of my life. 
 On my arrival at Colmar, my mother received me graciously, 
 but her politeness did not last long. I now gave a new 
 cause of offence — one that a woman, proud of her beauty 
 and jealous of its decay, does not easily forgive. I was 
 admired and paid great attention to by the officers, much 
 more attention than she received herself. 
 
 " M. Chatenoeuf," the officers would say, " you have 
 begotten a daughter much handsomer than yourself." 
 My mother considered this as a polite way to avoid saying 
 that I was much handsomer than she was. If she thought 
 so, she did herself a great injustice, for I could not be 
 compared to what she was, when she was of my age. 
 She was even then a most splendid matron. But I had 
 youth in my favour, which is more than half the battle. 
 At all events, the remarks and attentions of the officers 
 aroused my mother's spleen, and she was more harsh in 
 language than ever, although I admit that it was but 
 seldom that she resorted to blows. 
 
 I recollect that one day, when I was not supposed to 
 be in hearing, one of the officers said to another, " Ma foi, 
 elle est jolie — elle a besoin de deux ans, et elle sera 
 parfaite." So childish and innocent was I at that time, 
 that I could not imagine what they meant. 
 
 " "Why was I to be two years older ? " I thought, and 
 puzzled over it till I fell fast asleep. The attentions of 
 the officers, and the flattery he received from them on 
 my account, appeared to have more effect on my father 
 than I could have imagined. Perhaps he felt that I was 
 somebody to be proud of, and his vanity gave him that 
 courage to oppose my mother, which his paternal feelings 
 had not roused. I recollect one instance particularly. 
 There was a great ceremony to be performed in the 
 church, no less than the christening of the two new bells. 
 
Valerie 23 
 
 previous to their being hoisted up in the belfry. The 
 officers told my father that I must be present, and on his 
 return home he stated to my mother his intention of 
 taking me with him on the following day to see the 
 ceremony. 
 
 *' She can't go — she has no clothes fit to wear," cried 
 my mother. 
 
 " Why has she not, madame ? " replied my father, 
 sternly. "Let her have some ready for to-morrow, and 
 without fail." 
 
 My mother perceived that my father was not to be 
 trifled with, and therefore thought proper to acquiesce. 
 Pity it was that he did not use his authority a little more, 
 after he had discovered that he could regain it if he 
 pleased. 
 
 On the following day I accompanied my father, who 
 was one of the officers on duty in the interior of the 
 church, and as he stood in advance of his men, I remained 
 at his side, and of course had a very complete view of 
 the whole ceremony. I was very neatly dressed, and 
 my father received many compliments upon my appear- 
 ance. At last the ceremony began. The church was 
 lined with troops to keep back the crowd, and the 
 procession entered the church, the bishop walking under 
 a canopy, attended by the priests, then the banners, and 
 pretty children, dressed as angels, tossing frankincense 
 from silver censers. The two bells were in the centre 
 of the church, both of them dressed in white petticoats, 
 which covered them completely, ornamented with ribbons, 
 and a garland of flowers upon the head of each — if I may 
 so designate their tops. The godmothers, dressed in 
 white as on baptismal ceremonies, and the godfathers in 
 court suits, stood on each side. They had been selected 
 from the elite of the families in the town. The organ and 
 the military band relieved each other until the service 
 commenced. The bishop read the formula ; the god- 
 mothers and godfathers gave the customary security ; the 
 holy water was sprinkled over the bells, and thus were 
 
24 Valerie 
 
 they regularly baptised. One was named Eulalie and the 
 other Lucile. It was a very pretty ceremony, and I 
 should have liked to have been present at their ^^ premiere 
 communion " if it ever took place. 
 
 My English readers may consider this as a piece of 
 mummery. At the time I did not. As a good Catholic, 
 which I was at that time, and a pretty Frenchwoman, I 
 thought that nothing could be more correct than the 
 decoration des belles, I believe that it has always been the 
 custom to name bells — to consecrate them most certainly 
 — and if we call to mind what an important part they 
 perform in our religion, I do not wonder at it. By being 
 consecrated, they receive the rites of the church. "Why, 
 therefore, should they not receive the same rites in 
 baptism ? But why baptise them ? Because they speak 
 to us in many ways, and with their loud tongues express 
 the feelings, and make known the duties imposed upon 
 us. Is there cause for the nation to rejoice, their merry 
 notes proclaim it from afar ; in solemn tones they summon 
 us to the house of prayer, to the lifting of the Host, and 
 to the blessing of the priest j and it is their mournful 
 notes which announce to us that one of our generation 
 has been summoned away, and has quitted this transitory 
 abode. Their offices are Christian offices, and therefore 
 are they received into the church. 
 
 Chapter III 
 
 An elder sister of my mother's resided at Colmar, and I 
 passed most of my time with her during our stay. When 
 my father's regiment was ordered to Paris, this lady 
 requested that I might remain with her ; but my mother 
 refused, telling her sister that she could not, conscientiously 
 as a mother, allow any of her daughters to quit her care 
 for any worldly advantage. That this was mere hypocrisy, 
 the reader will imagine ; indeed, it was fully proved so to 
 
Valerie 25 
 
 be in two hours afterwards, by my mother telling my 
 father that if her sister had offered to take Clara, my 
 second sister, she would have consented. The fact was, 
 that the old lady had promised to dower me very handsomely 
 (for she was rich), and my mother could not bear any good 
 fortune to come to me. 
 
 We passed through Luneville on our road to Paris, and 
 I saw my dear grandmother for the last time. She 
 requested that I might be left with her, making the same 
 offer as she did before, of leaving me all her property at 
 her death, but my mother would not listen to any solicita- 
 tion. Now as our family was now fourteen in number, she 
 surely might, in either of the above instances, have well 
 spared me, and it would have been a relief to my father ; 
 but this is certain, she would not spare me, although she 
 never disguised her dislike, and would, if she had dared, 
 have treated me as she had formerly done. I was very 
 anxious to stay with my dear grandmother. She had 
 altered very much since my grandfather's death, and was 
 evidently breaking up fast ; but my mother was inexorable. 
 We continued our route, and arrived at Paris, where we 
 took up our quarters in the barracks close to the 
 Boulevards. 
 
 My mother was as harsh as ever, and now recommenced 
 her boxes of the ear — which during the time we were 
 at Colmar had but seldom been applied. In all my 
 troubles I never was without friends. I now made an 
 acquaintance with the wife of the colonel of the regiment 
 who joined us at Paris. She had no children. I imparted 
 all my troubles to her, and she used to console me. She 
 was a very religious woman, and as I had been brought up 
 in the same way by my grandmother, she was pleased to 
 find piety in one so young, and became much attached to 
 me. She had a sister, a widow of large fortune, who 
 lived in the Rue St Honore, a very pleasant, lively woman, 
 but very sarcastic when she pleased, and not caring what 
 she said if her feelings prompted her. I constantly met 
 her at the colonel's house, and she invited me to come and 
 
26 Valerie 
 
 see her at her own, but I knew that my mother would not 
 permit me, so I did not ask. As the colonel was my 
 father's superior officer, all attempts to break off my 
 intimacy with her which my mother made, were unavailing, 
 and I passed as usual all my time in any other house 
 except my home. 
 
 I have now to record but two more beatings. The 
 reader may think that I have recorded enough already, but 
 as these were the two last, and they were peculiar, I must 
 beg him to allow me so to do. The first beating was 
 given me for the following cause : A very gentlemanlike 
 young officer in the regiment was very particular in his 
 attentions to me. I liked his company, but my thoughts 
 had never been directed towards marriage, for I was too 
 childish and innocent. One morning it appeared that he 
 proposed to my father, who immediately gave his consent, 
 provided that I was agreeable, and this he ventured to do 
 without consulting my mother. Perhaps he thought it a 
 good opportunity to remove me from my mother's perse- 
 cution. At all events when he made known to her what 
 he had done, and requested her to sound me on the subject, 
 she was in no pleasant humour. When she did so, my 
 reply was (he being a very dark-complexioned man, 
 although well-featured), " Non, maman, je ne veux pas. 
 II est trop noir." 
 
 To my astonishment, my mother flew at me, and I 
 received such an avalanche of boxes on the ears for this 
 reply, that I was glad to make my escape as fast as I 
 could, and locked myself up in my own room. Now I 
 really believe that I was almost a single instance of a 
 young lady having her ears well boxed for refusing to 
 marry a man that she did not care for — but such was my 
 fate. 
 
 The treatment I received in this instance got wind in 
 the barracks, and my cause was warmly taken up by every 
 one. Finding myself thus supported, I one day ventured 
 to refuse to do a very menial and unpleasant office, and 
 for this refusal I received the second beating. It was the 
 
Valerie 27 
 
 last certainly, but it was the most severe, for my mother 
 caught up a hearth-brush, and struck me for several 
 minutes such a succession of severe blows, that my face was 
 so disfigured that I was hardly to be recognised, my head cut 
 open in several places, and the blood pouring down me in 
 every direction. At last she left me for dead on the floor. 
 After a time I recovered my recollection, and when I did 
 so, I sprang away from the servants who had been 
 supporting me, and with my hair flying in the wind, and 
 my face and dress streaming with blood, I ran across the 
 barrack-yard to the colonel's house, and entering the 
 room in which she was sitting with her sister, sank at her 
 feet, choking with the blood which poured out of my 
 mouth. 
 
 " Who is it ? " exclaimed she, springing up in horror 
 and amazement. 
 
 " Valerie — pauvre Valerie," moaned I, with my face on 
 the floor. 
 
 They raised me up, sent for the servants, took me into 
 a bedroom, and sent for the surgeon of the regiment, who 
 lived in the barracks. As soon as I was somewhat 
 recovered, I told them that it was my mother's treatment ; 
 and I became so excited, that as soon as the surgeon had 
 left the house, I cried, 
 
 " Never, madam, will I again enter my father's house ; 
 never while I live — if you do not protect me — or if nobody 
 else will— if you send me back again, I will throw myself 
 in the Seine. I swear it as I kneel." 
 
 " What is to be done, sister ? " said the colonel's 
 wife. 
 
 " I will see. At all events, Valerie, I will keep you 
 here a few days till something can be arranged. It is 
 now quite dark, and you shall stay here, and sleep on this 
 bed." 
 
 *' Or the bed of the river," replied I ; " I care not if it 
 were that, for I should not rise up to misery. I have 
 made a vow, and I repeat, that I never will enter my 
 father's house again." 
 
2 8 Valerie 
 
 " My dear Valerie," said the colonel's wife, in a 
 soothing tone. 
 
 "Leave her to me, sister," said the other, who was 
 busy arranging my hair now that my wounds had stopped 
 bleeding, " I will talk to her. The colonel will be home 
 directly, and you must receive him." 
 
 Madame Allarde, for that was the colonel's wife's name, 
 left the room. As soon as she was gone, Madame 
 d'Aibret, her sister, said to me, 
 
 " Valerie, I fear that what you have said you will 
 adhere to, and you will throw yourself into the river." 
 
 " Yes, if I am taken back again," replied I. "I hope 
 God will forgive me, but I feel I shall, for my mind is 
 overthrown, and I am not sane at times." 
 
 " My poor child, you may go back again to your 
 father's house, because my sister and her husband, in their 
 position, cannot prevent it, but believe me, you shall not 
 remain there. As long as I have a home to offer, you 
 shall never want one ; but you must listen to me. I wish 
 to serve you and to punish your unnatural mother, and I 
 will do so, but Valerie, you must well weigh circumstances' 
 before you decide ; I say that I can offer you a home, but 
 recollect life is uncertain, and if it pleases God to summon 
 me, you will have a home no longer. What will you do 
 then ? — for you will never be able to return to your 
 father's house." 
 
 " You are very kind, madam," replied I, " but my 
 resolution is formed, and I will work for my daily bread 
 in any way that I can, rather than return. Put me but 
 in the way of doing that, and I will for ever bless you." 
 
 " You shall never work for your bread while I live, 
 Valerie, but if I die, you will have to do something for 
 your own support, and recollect how friendless you will 
 be, and so young." 
 
 " Can I be more friendless than I am at home, madame.?" 
 said I, shaking my head, mournfully. 
 
 " Your father deserves punishment for his want of 
 moral courage as well as your mother," replied Madame 
 
Valerie 29 
 
 d'Albret. " You had better go to bed now, and to- 
 morrow give me your decision." 
 
 " To-morrow will make no change, madame," answered 
 I, " but I fear that there is no chance of my escape. 
 To-morrow my father will arrive for me as usual, and 
 — but I have said it. You may preserve my life, madame, 
 but how I know not," and I threw myself down on the 
 bed in despair. 
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 About an hour afterwards Madame d'Albret, who had 
 left me on the bed while she went down to her sister, 
 came up again, and spoke to me, but from weakness 
 occasioned by the loss of blood and from excitement, I 
 talked for many minutes in the most incoherent manner, 
 and Madame d'Albret was seriously alarmed. In the 
 meantime the colonel had come home, and his wife ex- 
 plained what had happened. She led him up to my room 
 just at the time that I was raving. He took the candle, 
 and looked at my swelled features, and said, 
 
 ** I should not have recognised the poor girl. Mort 
 de ma vie ! but this is infamous, and Monsieur de 
 Chatenoeuf is a contemptible cov/ard. I will see him 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 The colonel and his wife then left the room. By this 
 time I had recovered from my paroxysm. Madame 
 d'Albret came to me, and putting her face close to mine, 
 said, "Valerie." 
 
 " Yes, madame," replied L 
 
 "Are you more composed now? Do you think that 
 you could listen to me ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame, and thankfully," replied I. 
 
 " Well, then, my plan is this. I am sure that the 
 colonel will take you home to-morrow. Let him do so ; 
 in the morning I will tell you how to behave. To-morrow 
 night you shall escape, and I will be with a fiacre at the 
 
30 Valerie 
 
 corner of the street ready to receive you. I will take 
 you to my house, and no one, not even my sister, shall 
 know that you are with me. They will believe that you 
 have thrown yourself into the Seine, and as the regiment 
 is ordered to Lyons, and will leave in ten days or a 
 fortnight, there will be no chance, if you are concealed 
 till their departure, of their knowing that you are alive." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you, madame, you know not how 
 happy you have made me," replied I, pressing my hand to 
 my heart, which throbbed painfully with joy. " God 
 bless you, Madame d'Albret. Oh, how I shall pray for 
 you, kind Madame d'Albret ! " 
 
 Madame d'Albret shed tears over me after I had done 
 speaking, and then wishing me good-night, told me that 
 she would see me in the morning, and let me know what 
 was going on, and then give me further directions for my 
 conduct. She then left me, and I tried to go to sleep, but 
 I was in too much pain. Once I did slumber, and dreamt 
 that my mother was beating me again. I screamed with 
 the pain that the blows gave me and awoke. I slept no 
 more that night. At daylight I rose, and, as may be 
 supposed, the first thing that I did was to look into the 
 glass. I was terrified ; my face was swelled so that my 
 features were hardly distinguishable ; one eye was closed 
 up, and the blood had oozed out through the handkerchief 
 which had been tied round my head by the surgeon. I 
 was, indeed, an object. The servant brought me up some 
 coffee, which I drank, and then remained till the colonel's 
 wife came up to me. 
 
 It was the first and only time that I ever beheld that 
 good woman angry. She called from the top of the stairs 
 for her husband to come up ; he did so, looked at me, said 
 nothing, but went down again. About half-an-hour after- 
 wards Madame d'Albret and the surgeon came up together. 
 The latter was interrogated by her as to the effects of the 
 injuries I had received, and after examination, he replied, 
 that although it would take some days for the inflammation 
 and marks of the blows to go away, yet he did not consider 
 
Valerie 
 
 31 
 
 that eventually I should be in any way disfigured. This 
 gave me great pleasure, as I suspect it would have done 
 any other pretty girl in my situation. Madame d'Albret 
 waited till the surgeon was gone, and then gave me some 
 further instructions, which I obeyed to the letter. She also 
 brought me a black veil in case I had not one of my own. 
 She then left me, saying, that the colonel had sent for my 
 father, and that she wished to be present at the interview. 
 
 My father came, and the colonel, after stating the 
 treatment which I had received, loaded him with re- 
 proaches ; told him his conduct was that of a coward to 
 allow his wife to be guilty of such cruelty towards his 
 child. Then he sent Madame d'Albret to bring me down ; 
 when I entered, my father started back with surprise ; he 
 had answered the colonel haughtily, but when he beheld 
 the condition I was in, he said, 
 
 " Colonel, you are right ; I deserve all you have said 
 and even more, but now do me the favour to accompany 
 me home. Come, Valerie, my poor child, your father 
 begs your pardon." 
 
 As my father took my hand to lead me away, Madame 
 d'Albret said to the colonel, 
 
 *' My dear Allarde, do you not incur a heavy responsi- 
 bility in allowing that girl to go back again ? You know 
 what she said yesterday." 
 
 ** Yes, ma chere, I have been told by your sister, but it 
 was said in a state of excitement, and I have no doubt 
 that kindness will remove all such ideas. Monsieur de 
 Chatenoeuf, I am at your orders." 
 
 I never said a word during all this interview. Madame 
 d'Albret tied the black veil round my head and let it fall 
 to conceal my features, and I was led home by my father 
 accompanied by the colonel. We went into the room 
 where my mother was sitting. My father lifted the veil 
 from my face. 
 
 "Madame," said my father, in a severe tone, " do you 
 see the condition to which your barbarity has reduced this 
 poor girl ? I have brought Monsieur Allarde here to tell 
 
32 
 
 Valerie 
 
 you before him, that your conduct has been infamous, and 
 that mine has been unpardonable in not having protected 
 her from your cruelty ; but I now tell you, that you have 
 bent the bow till it has broken, and your power in this 
 house is ended for ever." 
 
 My mother was so much astonished at this severe 
 rebuke before witnesses, that she remained with her 
 mouth open and her eyes staring. At last she gave a sort 
 of chuckling laugh. 
 
 " Madame, I am in earnest," continued my father, " and 
 you shall find that in future I command here. To your 
 room, madame, immediately ! " 
 
 The last word was pronounced in a voice of thunder. 
 My mother rose, and as she retired, burst into a passionate 
 flood of tears. The colonel then took his leave, saying 
 to my father. 
 
 " Tenez-vous la." 
 
 My father remained a quarter of an hour with me, 
 consoling me and blaming himself, and promising that in 
 future he would see me done justice to. I heard him 
 without reply. The tears started in my eyes at his kind 
 expressions, but I felt there was no security for his 
 adhering to all he promised, and I trembled as I thought 
 so. He left me and went out. My mother, who had 
 been watching, as soon as she saw that he had left the 
 house, hastened downstairs from her room, and came into 
 the one where I was sitting alone. 
 
 " So, mademoiselle," said she, panting, and apparently 
 striving to contain herself, ** my power in this house is 
 gone for ever, and all through you. Ha, ha, ha ! we 
 shall see, we shall see. D'ye hear me, creature ? " con- 
 tinued she, with her clenched hand close to my face. " No, 
 not yet," said she, after a pause, and then she left the room. 
 
 If my father's kindness had somewhat staggered my 
 resolution, this conduct of my mother's confirmed it. I 
 felt that she was right in what she said, and that in a 
 month she would regain her sway, and drive me to 
 desperation. During the whole of that day I made no 
 
Valerie ^^ 
 
 reply to anything that was said to me by my brothers and 
 sisters, who came in by stealth to see me. In this I 
 followed the advice of Madame d'Albret, and at the same 
 time my own feelings and inclinations. The servants 
 who offered me dinner, and coaxed me to take some 
 nourishment, could not get any answer from me, and at 
 last one of them, who was a kind-hearted girl, burst out 
 into tears, crying that mademoiselle was fo/k. My father 
 did not come home to dinner ; my mother remained in 
 her room till he came in in the evening, and then he went 
 up to her. It wanted but half-an-hour of the time that 
 I had agreed to meet Madame d'Albret. I waited that 
 time, during which I heard sounds of high altercation 
 above stairs. I was quite alone, for my mother had 
 prevented the children coming to me, and as the clock 
 struck, I dropped my veil over my face and quietly 
 walking out of the house, made for the rendezvous 
 agreed. 
 
 I found the ^acre with Madame d'Albret waiting for 
 me, and stepping into it, I was in a few minutes safely 
 lodged in her splendid comfortable apartments. Madame 
 d'Albret put me in a little cabinet inside of her own room, 
 so that no one, except one servant whom she could trust, 
 knew of my being on the premises. There I was left to 
 recover from my bruises, and regain, if possible, my good 
 looks. On the following day she repaired to the barracks, 
 and remained with her sister till the evening, when she 
 returned, and came up to me. 
 
 '* All has happened as I wished," said she, as she took 
 off her bonnet ; " you are nowhere to be found, and they 
 have not the least suspicion that you are here. When 
 you were first missed, they thought you had returned to 
 the colonel's, and your father did not think it advisable 
 to make inquiry until the next morning, when to his 
 surprise he learnt that you had never been there. The 
 dismounted hussar, who was sentry during the evening, 
 was then examined ; and he replied, that about half-past 
 eight o'clock, a young person, who by her figure he 
 V c 
 
34 
 
 Valerie 
 
 presumed to be Mademoiselle Chatenoeuf, had gone out 
 of the gates, but that she had a thick veil over her face, and 
 he could not see it. When your father and the colonel 
 had interrogated the man and dismissed him, my poor 
 sister burst into tears and said, ' Alas ! alas ! then she has 
 kept her word, and has thrown herself into the Seine. 
 Oh, Monsieur Allarde, my sister said you would incur a 
 heavy responsibility by sending that poor girl back, and 
 now it has proved but too true : poor dear Valerie ! ' 
 Your father and the colonel were almost as much dis- 
 tressed as my sister, and it was just at that time that I 
 came in. 
 
 " * Sister,' cried Madame Allarde to me, * Valerie has 
 left the barracks.' 
 
 " ' What ! ' exclaimed I, * When ? oh my fear was too 
 true ! ' said I, clasping my hands and then taking out my 
 handkerchief, I covered my face and sobbed. I tell you, 
 Valerie, that nothing but my affection for you would have 
 induced me to be so deceitful, but under the circumstances 
 I hope I was justified. My assumed grief and distress 
 quite removed any suspicion of your being here, and 
 shortly afterwards the colonel made a sign to your father, 
 and they both left the barracks ; I have no doubt they 
 went down to the Morgue, to ascertain if their fears had 
 already been proved correct." 
 
 " What is the Morgue, madame ? " said I. 
 
 ** Do you not know, my child .? It is a small building 
 by the side of the Seine, where all bodies which are found 
 in the river are laid out for the examination of the friends 
 of those who are missing. Below the bridges there is 
 a large strong net laid across, which receives all the bodies 
 as they are swept away by the tide ; that is, it receives 
 many, if not most of them, but some are never found 
 again." 
 
 Madame Allarde did not fail to return to the barracks 
 on the next day, and found that a general excitement 
 prevailed, not only among the officers but the men. My 
 supposed suicide had been made known. My father had 
 
Valerie 35 
 
 visited the Morgue a second time, and the police had been 
 on the search without success. My mother dared not even 
 show herself at the window of her apartments, and found 
 herself avoided even by her own children. As for my 
 father, he was half mad, and never met her but to load 
 her with reproaches, and to curse his own folly in having 
 so long submitted to her imperious will. 
 
 " At all events, one good has arisen from your supposed 
 death, Valerie," said Madame d'Albret, " which is, that 
 your father has completely resumed his authority, and I do 
 not think will ever yield it up again." 
 
 " My poor father," replied I, shedding tears, " I feel 
 for him." 
 
 " He is certainly to be pitied," replied Madame d'Albret, 
 *' but it is his own conscience which must be his greatest 
 tormentor. He was selfish enough not to feel for you 
 during your years of persecution, and rather than have his 
 own comforts invaded by domestic brawls for a short 
 period, he allowed you to be sacrificed. But observe, 
 Valerie, if you have still a wish to return to your parents, 
 it is not too late. The regiment does not leave Paris till 
 next Thursday." 
 
 "Oh, no, no," cried I, "my mother would kill me ; 
 don't mention that again, madame," continued I, trembling. 
 
 *' I will not, my child, for to tell you the truth, you 
 would not appear in so favourable a light, if you were now 
 to return. You have caused much grief to my sister and 
 husband, and they would not receive you with cordiality 
 after having thus trifled with their feelings. It would also 
 be a victory for your mother ; and I doubt not but that in 
 a short time she would again recover that power which for 
 the present she has lost. You never can be happy in your 
 family after what has passed, and I think that what has 
 been done is for the best. Your father can well spare one 
 child put of fourteen, having little more than ^ long sword 
 for their support. Your supposed death will be the cause 
 of your father retaining his lawful authority, and preventing 
 any of the remaining children receiving such injustice as 
 
^6 Valerie 
 
 you have done ; and remorse will check, if it does not 
 humanise your mother, and I trust that the latter will be 
 the case. I had well weighed all this in my mind, my 
 dear Valerie, before I made the proposal, and I consider 
 still that for your sake and for the sake of others, it is 
 better that you should be the sacrifice. Nevertheless, I 
 repeat, consult your own feelings, and if you repent the 
 step which you have taken, there is yet time for you to 
 return." 
 
 " My dear madame, return I never will, unless I am 
 taken by force. All I feel is, that I should like that my 
 father's bitter anguish was assuaged by his knowledge of 
 my being still in existence." 
 
 *' And so should I, Valerie, were it possible that the 
 communication could be made, and the same happy results 
 be arrived at ; but that cannot be, unless it should please 
 Heaven to summon your mother, and then you might 
 safely inform your father of your existence." 
 
 " You are right, madame." 
 
 " Yes, I think I am, Valerie ; for, after all, your father 
 duly deserves his severe penance, which is, to visit, the 
 Morgue every day ; but painful as is the remedy, it is 
 necessary for the cure." 
 
 " Yes, madame," replied I, sobbing, " all you say is 
 true, but still I cannot help weeping and pitying my poor 
 father; not that it alters my determination, but I cannot 
 command my feelings." 
 
 '* Your feelings do you honour, Valerie, and I do not 
 blame you for your grief. Do not, however, indulge it to 
 excess, for that is turning a virtue into a failing." 
 
 There were still three days remaining previous to the 
 departure of the regiment for Lyons. I was sorely dis- 
 tressed during this time. I pictured to myself my father's 
 remorse, and would gladly have hastened to the barracks 
 and thrown myself into his arms, but my mother's image 
 rose before me, and her last words, " We shall see if my 
 power is gone for ever," rung in my ears ; her clenched 
 hand was apparently close to my face, and then my resolu- 
 
Valerie 37 
 
 tion remained fixed. The swelling of my features had 
 now subsided, and I had in some degree recovered my 
 good looks ; still my eye and cheeks were tinged black 
 and yellow in various places, and the cuts on my head not 
 quite healed. However, I was satisfied that the surgeon 
 of the regiment was correct in his assertion that I should 
 not be the least disfigured by the treatment which I had 
 received. 
 
 ** I have news for you," said Madame d'Albret, as she 
 returned from the barracks, where she had been to see 
 her sister off on her journey. ** Your brother, Auguste, 
 who you know has been away, has returned to rejoin his 
 regiment, but has since obtained his rank in another, which 
 is stationed at Brest." 
 
 " Why has he done so, madame ? do you know ? have 
 you seen him ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he was at the colonel's ; he stated that he could 
 not remain in the regiment if his mother continued with 
 his father ; that he should never be able after what had 
 happened to treat his mother with common courtesy, still 
 less with the duty of a son, and therefore he preferred 
 leaving the regiment." 
 
 ** And my father, madame ? " 
 
 " Your father allows him to act as he pleases ; indeed, 
 he feels the force of what your brother says, and so does 
 my brother-in-law, who has given his assent, as command- 
 ing officer, to your brother's exchange. Auguste laments 
 you very much, and the poor fellow looks very ill. I think 
 he has done right, although it is a severe blow to your 
 mother ; but for her I have no compassion." 
 
 " My mother never liked Auguste, madame." 
 
 " No, I believe that ; but what annoys her is the cause 
 of his leaving his regiment, as it is open condemnation of 
 her conduct." 
 
 "Yes, I can understand that feeling on her part," 
 replied I. 
 
 "Well, Valerie, I did not return until the regiment was 
 gone and the barracks cleared. You know the commandant 
 
^S Valerie 
 
 always goes the last. I saw my sister safe off, and now I 
 am here to tell you that you are no longer a prisoner, but 
 may make yourself comfortable by roving through my 
 apartments. But the first affair which we must take in 
 hand is your wardrobe. I am rich enough to furnish you, 
 so that shall be seen to immediately. And, Valerie dear, 
 let me now say once for all, what I do not intend to repeat 
 in words, but I hope to prove by my actions. Look upon 
 me as your mother, for I have not taken you away from 
 your family without the resolution of supplying, as far as 
 I can, not the mother you have lost, but the mother which 
 in your dreams you have fancied. I love you, my child, 
 for you are deserving of love. Treat me, therefore, with 
 that unlimited confidence and affection which your young 
 and pure heart yearns to pour out." 
 
 " Bless you, madame, bless you," cried I, bursting into 
 tears, and burying my face in her lap ; " I feel that now 
 I have a mother." 
 
 Chapter V 
 
 For several days I remained quiet in the little ante-chamber, 
 during which Madame d'Albret had been busy every 
 morning driving in her carriage, and ordering me a ward- 
 robe ; and as the various articles came in, I was as much 
 surprised as I was pleased at the taste which had been 
 shown, and the expense which must have been incurred. 
 
 " My dear madame," cried I, as each parcel was opened, 
 ** these are much too good for me ; recollect I am but a 
 poor soldier's daughter." 
 
 " You were so," replied Madame d'Albret ; " but you 
 forget," continued she, kissing my forehead, " that the 
 poor soldier's daughter was drowned in the Seine, and you 
 are now the protegee of Madame d'Albret. I have already 
 mentioned to all my friends that I expect a young cousin 
 from Gascony, whom I have adopted, having no children 
 
Valerie 39 
 
 of my own. Your own name is noble, and you may safely 
 retain it, as there are no want of Chatenoeufs in Gascony, 
 and there have been former alliances between them and the 
 d'Albrets. I have no doubt that if I were to refer back to 
 family records, that I could prove you to be a cousin, some 
 three hundred times removed, and that is quite enough. 
 As soon as you are quite well, and I think in a week all 
 vestiges of your ill-treatment will be effaced, we will go 
 down to my chateau for a few months, and we will return 
 to Paris in the season. Has Madame Paon been here ? " 
 
 " Yes, my dear madame, she has, and has taken my 
 measure for the dresses ; but don't scold me. I must cry 
 a little, for I am so happy and so grateful. My heart will 
 burst if I do not. Bless you, bless you, dear madame ; 
 little did I think before I saw you, that I should ever cry 
 for joy." 
 
 Madame d'Albret embraced me with much affection, and 
 allowed me to give vent to my feelings, which I did, 
 bedewing her hands with my tears. A week afterwards, 
 everything was ready, and we set off for the chateau in 
 Brittany, travelling in Madame d'Albret's post-chariot with 
 an avant courier, and without regard to expense. 
 
 And now I must make the reader somewhat better 
 acquainted with my kind protectress. I little thought at 
 the time that she offered me her protection, that she was 
 a personage of such consequence, but the fact was, that 
 her sister having made a very inferior match to her own, 
 she, out of delicacy, while the Colonel and his wife were 
 at Paris, avoided anything like state in paying them a visit, 
 and I supposed that she was much in the same rank and 
 society as they were ; but such was not the case. 
 
 Madame d'Albret had married into one of the highest 
 and most noble families of France. Her husband had died 
 three years after their marriage, and having no children, 
 had left her a large revenue entirely at her own disposal 
 during her life, and wishing her to marry again, had the 
 property entailed upon her children if she had any, if not, 
 after her death, it was to go to a distant branch of the 
 
40 Valerie 
 
 d'Albret family. I was informed that her income amounted 
 to 60,000 livres per annum, besides her chateau in the 
 country, and the hotel in the Rue St Honore, which be- 
 longed to her, although she only occupied a portion of it. 
 Her husband had now been dead more than ten years, and 
 Madame d'Albret had not been persuaded by her numerous 
 suitors to marry again. She was still handsome, about 
 thirty-four years of age, and I hardly need say, was in the 
 very best society in Paris. Such was the person who 
 came to the barracks in so unassuming a manner, and 
 whose protection I was so fortunate as to obtain. 
 
 I could dwell long upon the happy days that I passed at 
 the chateau. There was no want of society, and the 
 reunioTis were charming ; and being in the country, I was 
 allowed to join them, having been formally introduced by 
 Madame d'Albret to all her visitors, as her cousin. My 
 time was fully occupied. Madame d'Albret, perceiving 
 that I had great talent for music and a fine voice, had pro- 
 cured me good masters, and wishing to prove my gratitude 
 by attention, I was indefatigable, and made so rapid a 
 progress, that my masters were surprised. Music and 
 embroidery, at which I had before mentioned I was very 
 expert, were my only occupations — and on the latter my 
 talents were exerted to please Madame d'Albret, by offer- 
 ing her each piece as they were successively taken from the 
 frame. So far from wishing to return to Paris, I was 
 unhappy at the idea of leaving the chateau. Indeed, if 
 the reader will recall what I have narrated of my former 
 life, he will at once perceive that I could but be in a state 
 of perfect happiness. 
 
 Until I was received by Madame d'Albret, I had lived a 
 life of persecution, and had not known kindness. Fear 
 was the passion which had been acted upon, and which, I 
 may say, had crushed both mind and body : now all was 
 kindness and love. Praise, which I had never before 
 received, was now lavished upon me, and I felt my energies 
 and talents roused, and developing themselves in a way 
 that astonished myself. I had not known what I was, or 
 
Valerie 41 
 
 what I was capable of. I had had no confidence in myself, 
 and I had believed myself to be almost as incapable as my 
 mother would have persuaded me, and everybody else. 
 This sudden change of treatment had a most surprising 
 effect. In the course of a few months I had grown 
 nearly three inches taller, and not only my figure, but my 
 features, had become so improved, that, although not vain, 
 it was impossible for me not to believe what every one 
 said, and what my glass told me, that I was very hand- 
 some, and that I should make a great sensation when I 
 was introduced at Paris. But although I believed this, I 
 felt no desire. I was too happy as I was, and would not 
 have exchanged the kindness of Madame d'Albret for the 
 best husband that France could produce ; and when any- 
 thing was mentioned by ladies who visited Madame 
 d'Albret, to that effect, and they talked about my future 
 establishment, my reply invariably was, ^^ Je ne veux pas.^^ 
 I had always expressed my regrets that we should be 
 obliged to go to Paris for the season, and Madame 
 d'Albret, who of course had no wish to part with me so 
 soon, and who felt that I was still young enough to 
 remain for some years single, made me very happy by 
 telling me that she did not intend to stay long in the 
 capital, and that although I should appear at her parties, 
 she did not intend that I should be much at public places. 
 And so it proved j we went to Paris, and the best masters 
 were procured for me, but I did not go out with Madame 
 d'Albret, except occasionally, in her morning drives, and 
 once or twice to the Opera and theatres. My music 
 occupied the major portion of my time, and having ex- 
 pressed a wish to learn English, I had a good master ; but 
 I had another resource from an intimacy having arisen 
 between me and Madame Paon, whom, I believe, I have 
 before mentioned as the first milliner in Paris. 
 
 This intimacy was brought about in the following 
 manner. Being very clever with my needle, and having a 
 great taste for dress, I used to amuse myself at the 
 chateau with inventing something new, not for myself, but 
 
42 Valerie 
 
 for Madame d'Albret, and very often surprised and 
 pleased her by making alterations or additions to her 
 dresses, which were always admired, and declared to be 
 in the best taste. On our arrival at Paris, Madame Paon 
 was visited of course, that the new fashions might be 
 ascertained, and she immediately remarked and admired 
 my little inventions. I was therefore consulted whenever 
 a new dress was to be made for Madame d'Albret, and as 
 Madame Paon was a very lady-like and superior person, 
 of a decayed, but good family, we soon became very 
 intimate. We had been at Paris about two months, when 
 one morning Madame Paon observed to Madame d'Albret, 
 that as I was learning English it would not be a bad plan 
 if Madame d'Albret was to drop me at her establishment 
 when she took her morning airing, as she had two highly 
 respectable English modistes in her employ, who she found 
 were necessary for her English customers, and that I should 
 learn more English by an hour's conversation with them 
 than a master could supply. Madame d'Albret agreed 
 with her, I was pleased at the idea, and consequently 
 three or four mornings in the week were passed at 
 Madame Paon's. 
 
 But the reader must be introduced to the establishment 
 of Madame Paon, or he may imagine that it was too con- 
 descending for a young lady in my position to visit at a 
 milliner's. Madame Paon was the first milliner at Paris, 
 and as is generally the case, was on the most intimate terms 
 with all the ladies. She made for the court, and, indeed, 
 for every lady to whom she could dedicate her time, as it 
 was almost a favour to be permitted to be one of her 
 customers. Her establishment was in the Rue St 
 Honore, I forget the name of the hotel, but it was 
 one of the largest. 
 
 The suite of apartments were magnificent. You passed 
 from one room to another, each displaying every variety of 
 rich and graceful costume. In every room were demoiselles 
 well-dressed to attend to the customers, and everything 
 bespoke a degree of taste and elegance quite unparalleled. 
 
Valerie 43 
 
 At last you arrived at the reception-room of madame, which 
 was spacious and most superbly furnished. There were 
 no men in the establishment except in one room, called the 
 Comptoir, in which were six clerks at their desks. When 
 I add that Madame Paon was elegant in her manners, and 
 handsome in her person, very tall and majestic, that she 
 was rich, kept several servants, a handsome carriage, and 
 had a malson de campagne, to which she retired every 
 Saturday afternoon, the reader may acknowledge that she 
 was a person whom Madame d'Albret might permit me to 
 visit. 
 
 This intimacy soon became very great. There was a 
 certain degree of eclat at my being so constantly in the 
 house, and, moreover, as I had a decided taste for dress, 
 I often brought forward some new invention which was 
 not only approved of, but a source of profit to Madame 
 Paon. Everything was submitted to my judgment as 
 Madame Paon more than once observed, "What a first- 
 rate modiste you would make, mademoiselle ; but, 
 unfortunately for the fashions, there is no chance of 
 your being so employed." 
 
 At last the Paris season was nearly over, and truly glad 
 was I when Madame d'Albret mentioned the day of our 
 departure. I had very much improved in my music and 
 my English during our residence at Paris. I had not been 
 out except to small parties, and had no wish whatever to 
 go out at all. I was satisfied with Madame d'Albret's 
 company, and had no wish to leave her. I may say that 
 I was truly happy, and my countenance was radiant, and 
 proved that I was so. My thoughts would occasionally 
 revert to my father and my brother Auguste, and make 
 me melancholy for the time, but I felt that all was for the 
 best, and I built castles, in which I imagined my suddenly 
 breaking in upon them, throwing myself in my father's 
 arms, and requesting him to share the wealth and luxury 
 with which I fancied myself to be endowed. 
 
 I was now nearly eighteen years old. I had been one 
 year under the protection of Madame d'Albret, and the old 
 
44 Valerie 
 
 dowagers who visited us at the chateau were incessantly- 
 pointing out to Madame d'Aibret that it was time to look 
 out for an establishment for me. Madame d'Albret was, 
 to a certain degree, of their opinion, but she did not wish 
 to part with me, and I was resolute in my determination 
 not to leave her. I had no wish to be married ; I had 
 reflected much upon the subject ; the few married lives I 
 had witnessed were not to my taste. I had seen my kind- 
 hearted amiable grandmother thwarted by a penurious 
 husband ; I had witnessed my father under the control of 
 a revengeful woman ; and when I beheld, as I did every 
 day, the peace and happiness in the establishment of 
 Madame d'Albret as a single woman, I felt certain that 
 marriage was a lottery in which there were thousands of 
 blanks to one prize. When, therefore, any of Madame 
 d'Albret's acquaintances brought up the subject, when 
 they left the room I earnestly implored Madame d'Albret 
 not to be influenced by their remarks, as I had made up 
 my mind to remain single, and that all I asked was to 
 remain with her and prove my gratitude. 
 
 " I believe you, Valerie," replied Madame d'Albret, 
 ** but I should not be doing my duty if I permitted you to 
 act upon your own feelings. A girl like you was not 
 intended by Heaven to pine away in celibacy, but to adorn 
 the station in life in which she is placed. At the same 
 time, I will not press the matter, but if an advantageous 
 offer were to be made, I shall then consider it my duty to 
 exert my influence with you to make you change your 
 mind, but, at the same time, I will never use anything 
 more than persuasion. I am too happy with you as a 
 companion to wish to part with you, but, at the same time, 
 I should be very selfish if I did not give you up when your 
 own interest told me that such was my duty." 
 
 " Well, madame, I thank Heaven that I have no fortune, 
 and that will, I trust, be a bar to any proposals from the 
 interested gentleman of the present day." 
 
 " That may not save you, Valerie," replied Madame 
 d'Albret, laughing, ** gentlemen may be satisfied with 
 
Valerie 45 
 
 expectancies ; nay, it is possible that one may be found who 
 may be satisfied with your own pretty self, and ask no more." 
 
 " I rather think not, madame," replied I. " You have 
 too good an opinion of me, and must not expect others to 
 view me with your partial eyes ; all I can say is, that if 
 such a gentleman could be found, his disinterestedness 
 would make me think more highly of him than I do of the 
 sex at present, although not sufficiently well to wish me to 
 change my present condition." 
 
 '' Well, well, we shall see," replied Madame d'Albret, 
 " the carriage is at the door, so bring me my bonnet and 
 cashmere." 
 
 A few weeks after our return to the chateau, a Monsieur 
 
 de G , of an old family in Brittany, who had been for 
 
 the last two years in England, returned to his father's 
 house, and called upon Madame d'Albret. She had known 
 him from childhood, and received him most cordially. I 
 must describe him fully, as he played no small part in my 
 little drama. He was, I should think, nearly thirty years 
 of age, small in person but elegantly made, with a very 
 handsome but rather effeminate face. His address and 
 manners were perfect. He was very witty, and apparently 
 very amiable. His deportment towards our sex was 
 certainly most fascinating — so tender and so respectful. I 
 certainly never had before seen so polished a man. He 
 sang well, and played upon several instruments ; drew, 
 caricatured — indeed, he did everything well that he 
 attempted to do ; I hardly need say that with such qualifi- 
 cations, and being so old a friend, that he was gladly 
 welcomed by Madame d'Albret, and became a daily visitor 
 at the chateau. I was soon intimate with him and partial 
 to his company, but nothing more ; indeed, his attentions 
 to Madame d'Albret were quite as great as to me, and 
 there was nothing to permit any one to suppose that he 
 was paying his court either to her or to me. Madame 
 d'Albret thought otherwise, because we sang together, and 
 because he talked to me in English, and she as well as 
 others rallied m.e in consequence. 
 
46 Valerie 
 
 After two months had passed away, Monsieur de G 
 
 was supposed to be paying his attentions more particularly 
 to me, and I thought so myself; Madame d'Albret 
 certainly did, and gave him every opportunity. He was 
 the heir to a large property, and did not require money 
 with his wife. About this time, an English lady of the 
 name of Bathurst who was travelling with a niece, a little 
 girl about fourteen years old, had accepted an invitation 
 
 from Monsieur de G- 's father, to pass a week with 
 
 them at their chateau, which was about five miles from 
 that of Madame d'Albret, and this lady was introduced. 
 She was apparently very amiable, and certainly very 
 distinguee in her manners, and we saw a great deal of her 
 as she was a great favourite with Madame d'Albret. 
 
 A few weeks after the introduction of this English 
 lady, I was one day on the terrace alone, when I was 
 
 accosted by Monsieur de G After a remark or 
 
 two upon the beauty of the autumnal flowers, he ob- 
 served, 
 
 **How different are the customs of two great nations, 
 with but a few leagues of water between them — I refer 
 to the French and the English. You would be surprised 
 to see how great they are if you were ever to go to 
 England — in none, perhaps, more so than in the affairs 
 of the heart. In France we do not consult the wishes 
 or the feelings of the young lady, we apply to her parents, 
 and if the match is considered equally advantageous, the 
 young lady is told to prepare herself for changing her 
 condition. In England the very reverse is the case ; we 
 apply to the young lady, gain her affections, and when 
 certain of them, we then request the sanction of those 
 who are her guardians. Which do you think is the most 
 natural and satisfactory. Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf ?" 
 
 " I have been brought up in France, Monsieur de 
 
 G , and I prefer the mode of France ; our parents 
 
 and our guardians are the people most able to decide 
 upon the propriety of a match, and I think that until 
 that point is ascertained, no affections should be engaged. 
 
Valerie 47 
 
 as, should the marriage not be considered advisable, much 
 pain and disappointment will be prevented." 
 
 " In some instances, I grant that such may be the case," 
 replied he ; " but still, is it not treating your sex like 
 slaves to permit no love before marriage ? and is it agree- 
 able for ours, that we lead to the altar a person who may 
 consent from a sense of duty, without having the least 
 regard for her husband ; nay, perhaps feeling an aversion?" 
 
 "I do not think that any kind parents would force their 
 child to marry a man for whom she felt an aversion," 
 replied I ; " and if there is not much love before marriage, 
 there may be a great deal after ; but the fact is, it is a 
 subject upon which I am not able, nor do I wish to give 
 my opinion." 
 
 " As you disagree with me. Mademoiselle de Chate- 
 nosuf," replied he, "I fear you will not be pleased at 
 my courting you in the English fashion ; and previous to 
 addressing myself to Madame d'Albret, making known 
 to you my sincere regard for you, and my humble hopes 
 that I am not indifferent to you." 
 
 ** I will answer you very plainly. Monsieur de G ; 
 
 and perhaps it is as well you have taken this unusual 
 step, as it will save you the trouble of making any applica- 
 tion to Madame d'Albret. Flattered as I am by your 
 compliment, I beg to decline the honour you propose, 
 and now that you know my feelings, you will of course 
 not be so ungenerous as to make any application to 
 Madame d'Albret." 
 
 *' Certainly, mademoiselle," replied he, with great pique, 
 " but on one condition, which is, that you will promise 
 me that you will not mention to Madame d'Albret what 
 has now passed between us." 
 
 " That I willingly promise, Monsieur de G , as I 
 
 may consider it as your secret." 
 
 " And I trust," continued he, " that you will not 
 discard me from your friendship, but receive me as 
 before." 
 
 " I shall always be happy to receive the friends of 
 
48 Valerie 
 
 Madame d'Albret," replied I, " and now I wish you a 
 good morning." 
 
 I went to my own room and reflected upon what had 
 
 passed. I was angry with Monsieur de G for what I 
 
 considered the unwarrantable liberty he had taken, the 
 greater as he must have known my utter dependence upon 
 Madame D'Albret ; and how unlikely it was that I would 
 form any such engagement without her knowledge and 
 
 sanction. That I had no love for Monsieur de G 
 
 was certain, although I was pleased with his company and 
 conversation. I was sorry on reflection that I had given 
 my promise not to mention what had passed, but having 
 made the promise, although hastily, I resolved to adhere 
 to it. 
 
 I took it for granted that he would gradually withdraw 
 himself, and that we should see little more of him ; but in 
 this I was mistaken ; he was as frequent in his visits as 
 before, dividing his attentions between Madame d'Albret 
 and me. This annoyed me, and I avoided him as much as 
 I could, and the consequence was, that he was oftener 
 with Madame d'Albret than with me. At first when 
 Madame d'Albret perceived this, she appeared to be 
 vexed, as she had evidently set her mind upon the match, 
 and expected daily to receive a formal proposal from him 
 in my behalf; but gradually, why I know not, it gave her 
 no further concern, and I was permitted to leave the 
 room, and do as I pleased without being subjected to any 
 remarks. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when the Paris season 
 drew near. Madame Bathurst had been induced to remain 
 in Brittany, and was continually with us. She had often 
 asked me to come over to England, and pass a few weeks 
 with them, and I had jokingly replied that I would. One 
 morning Madame d'Albret said to me, — 
 
 " My dear Valerie, Madame Bathurst has again re- 
 quested me to allow you to go to England with her. 
 Now if you think that you would like to pass a short time 
 with her, instead of remaining at Paris during the season. 
 
**■■■' '\4 
 
Valerie 49 
 
 I really have no objection, if it would give you 
 pleasure." 
 
 ** My dear madame, I was only joking when I said 
 so." 
 
 "Well, you have made Madame Bathurst think you 
 were in earnest, my dear," replied she ; " and I thought 
 so too, and have this morning promised that you shall go 
 with her. I thought you would perfect yourself in 
 English, and it would be a good opportunity of relieving 
 you for a short time of your constant attendance upon me ; 
 so, my dear Valerie, I advise you to go. It will amuse 
 you, and a little change will do you good : besides, my 
 
 dear, I perceive that the attentions of Monsieur de G 
 
 are not agreeable to you, and it is as well to break it off 
 by a short absence." 
 
 ** I shall not dispute your wishes, madame," replied I, 
 mournfully, for my heart misgave me, why I knew not, 
 " but if I do go, it will be to oblige you, and not because 
 I really wish it." 
 
 ** My dear Valerie, I think it will be for the best, and 
 therefore you will oblige me. I have promised for you, 
 and I should be sorry to have to recall my promise — so 
 consent, my dear, and I will write to Madame Bathurst, 
 that she may be prepared to receive you." 
 
 " Certainly, madame," replied I, " your wishes will ever 
 be a law to me : " and so saying, I left the room, and 
 going to my own chamber, I threw myself down on the 
 bed, and wept bitterly without knowing why. 
 
 About ten days after this, Madame Bathurst called for 
 
 father, where I was to remain till the next morning, when 
 we were to post to Paris. It was with great pain that I 
 quitted Madame d'Albret, but her kindness to me 
 appeared to have increased rather than diminished, after 
 the proposal of our short separation. " God bless you, 
 my dear Valerie," she said, " you must write to me twice 
 a week ; I shall be most impatient for your return." I 
 parted from her with many tears, and did not leave off 
 
 V D 
 
50 Valerie 
 
 weeping till we arrived at the chateau, at which Madame 
 Bathurst resided. 
 
 I was received with formal politeness by the old 
 
 gentleman, and Monsieur de G , who was also at 
 
 home, and in an excessive gay humour. " Alas, made- 
 moiselle," cried he, " what a desert you will leave behind 
 you ! It is too cruel, this travelling mania on your part. 
 We never shall see you again." 
 
 There was so much irony in his face as he said this, 
 that I hardly knew what to make of it ; but it made me 
 feel anxious and dissatisfied. I would have given much 
 to have abandoned the journey, but Madame d'Albret's 
 wishes were a law to me. To avoid reflection, which was 
 painful, I talked with Caroline, the niece of Madame 
 Bathurst, and as we were to set off at daylight, we retired 
 early. The following morning we set off, and in due 
 time arrived at Paris, where we remained but one day, 
 and then proceeded to Boulogne, where we embarked. 
 
 It was now November, and half-way across the Channel 
 we were enveloped in a fog, and it was with difficulty 
 that we made the harbour. We set off for London, the 
 fog continued during the whole day, and on our arrival at 
 the suburbs it was thicker than ever, and the horses were 
 led through the streets by people carrying flambeaux. I 
 had heard that England was a triste pays, and I thought it 
 so indeed. At last I observed to Madame Bathurst, 
 ^' Est-ce qu'il n'y a jamais de soleil dans ce pays, 
 ma dame ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied she, laughing, *' and a very beautiful 
 sun too." 
 
 The next day we set off for Madame Bathurst's country 
 seat, to pass the Christmas. Before we were three miles 
 out of London, the fog had disappeared, the sun shone 
 out brilliantly, and the branches of the leafless trees covered 
 with rhime, glittered like diamond wands, as we flew past 
 them. What with the change in the weather, and the 
 rapid motion produced by the four English post-horses, I 
 thought England beautiful ; but I must say that the first 
 
Valerie 5 1 
 
 two days were a trial, the more so as I was very despondent 
 from having quitted Madame d'Albret. I was delighted 
 with Madame Bathurst*s country seat, the well-arranged 
 gardens, the conservatories, the neatness displayed in every 
 thing so different from France, the cleanness of the house 
 and furniture ; the London carpets over the whole of the 
 rooms and staircases, were, in my opinion, great improve- 
 ments ; but I cared little for the society, which I found 
 not only dull, but it appeared to me to be selfish. I found 
 a lively companion in Caroline, and we sat up in a little 
 boudoir, where we were never interrupted. Here I 
 practised my music, and at Madame Bathurst's request, 
 spoke alternately English and French with my little com- 
 panion, for our mutual improvement. 
 
 I had written twice to Madame d'Albret, and had 
 received one very kind answer ; but no mention was made 
 of my return, although it was at first arranged that my 
 visit was to be three weeks or a month. A fortnight 
 after my arrival at Fairfield, I received a second letter from 
 Madame d'Albret, kind as usual, but stating, to my great 
 grief, that she was not well, having had an attack on her 
 chest from having taken a violent cold. I answered the letter 
 immediately, requesting that I might be permitted to return 
 home and nurse her, for I felt very uneasy. For three 
 weeks, during which I had no reply, I was in a state of 
 great anxiety and distress, as I imagined that Madame 
 d'Albret must have been too ill to write, and I was in a 
 fever of suspense. At last I received a letter from her, 
 stating that she had been very ill, and that she had been 
 recommended by the physicians to go to the south of 
 France for the winter. At the same time, as she could 
 not put off her departure, she wrote to Madame Bathurst, 
 requesting, if not inconvenient, that she would allow my 
 visit to be extended till the spring, at which season she 
 expected to return to Paris. Madame Bathurst read her 
 letter to me, and stated how happy she should be for me 
 to remain. I could do no otherwise but thank her, 
 although I was truly miserable. I wrote to Madame 
 
52 Valerie 
 
 d'Albret, and stated what my feelings were; but as she 
 had, by what was said in her letter, already left for the 
 south of France, I knew that my letter would arrive too 
 late to enable her to alter her determination. All I 
 requested was, that she would give me continual intelli- 
 gence of her health. 
 
 I was, however, much consoled in my distress by the 
 kindness of Madame Bathurst, and affectionate manners of 
 her niece CaroHne, who was my constant companion. 
 There was a great deal of company not only visiting, but 
 staying in the house; but although there was much 
 company, there was very little society. Horses, dogs, 
 guns, were the amusements of the gentlemen during the 
 day. In the evening we saw little of them, as they seldom 
 left the dinner-table before Caroline and I had retired to 
 our rooms ; and the ladies appeared to me to be all afraid 
 of each other, and to be constantly on the reserve. 
 
 Christmas had passed, and I had not heard again from 
 Madame d'Albret, which was a source of great vexation 
 and many bitter tears. I fancied her dying in the south of 
 France, without anyone to take care of her. I often spoke 
 to Madame Bathurst on the subject, who offered all the 
 excuses that she could devise, but I thought at the same 
 time appeared to be very grave, and unwilling to continue 
 the conversation. At last I thought of Madame Paon, and 
 I wrote to her, inquiring whether she knew how Madame 
 d'Albret was, detailing to her how I had come to England, 
 and how Madame D'Albret had been seriously indisposed, 
 stating my fears from not having received any reply to my 
 last letters. The day after I had written to Madame Paon, 
 Caroline, who was sitting with me in the boudoir, observed, 
 " I heard Mrs Corbet say to my aunt that she had seen 
 Madame d'Albret at Paris about ten days ago." 
 
 " Impossible!" replied I; "she is in the south of France." 
 
 " So I understood," replied Caroline ; ** but she did say 
 so, and my aunt immediately sent me out of the room on a 
 message. I am sure it was to get rid of me, that she 
 might talk to Mrs Corbet." 
 
Valerie $^ 
 
 ** What can this mean ? " exclaimed I. " Oh, my heart 
 forebodes evil ! Excuse me, Caroline, but I feel very 
 miserable ; " and I laid my face down on the table, 
 covering it with my hands, and tears trickled fast through 
 my fingers. 
 
 " Speak to my aunt," said Caroline, consolingly ; '* do 
 not cry, Valerie, it may be all a mistake." 
 
 " I will at once speak to Madame Bathurst," said I, 
 raising my head, " it will be the best plan." 
 
 I went into my room, bathed my eyes, and then sought 
 Madame Bathurst, whom I found in the conservatory, 
 giving directions to the gardener. After a time she took 
 my arm and we walked down the terrace. 
 
 ** Madame Bathurst," said I, '* I have been made very 
 miserable by Caroline stating that Mrs Corbet had told 
 you that she met Madame d'Albret at Paris. How can 
 this be ? " 
 
 ** I cannot imagine more than yourself, my dear Valerie," 
 replied Madame Bathurst, '* except that Mrs Corbet was 
 mistaken." 
 
 ** Do you think it was Madame ? " 
 
 " I cannot say, Valerie, but I have written to Paris to 
 ascertain the fact, which is to me incomprehensible. A 
 few days will let us into the truth ; I cannot believe it — 
 indeed, if it were true, I shall consider that Madame 
 d'Albret has treated me ill, for much as I am pleased to 
 have you here, she has not been candid with me in 
 proposing that you should remain the winter, upon the 
 plea of her being obliged to go to the south, when she is 
 still at Paris. I cannot understand it, and until confirmed, 
 I will not believe it. Mrs Corbet is not an acquaintance 
 of hers, and may, therefore, be mistaken." 
 
 " She must be, madame," replied I ; " still it is 
 strange that I do not hear from her. I am fearful 
 something is wrong, and what it can be, I cannot 
 surmise." 
 
 ** Let us talk no more about it, my dear Valerie. A 
 few days will decide the point." 
 
54 Valerie 
 
 A few days did decide the point, for I received an 
 answer from Madame Paon, in which she said : — 
 
 ** My dear Mademoiselle Chaten(euf, — You may 
 imagine my surprise at receiving your letter, and I fear 
 you must prepare yourself for unpleasant intelligence. 
 Madame d'Albret is in Paris, and has never been in the 
 south of France that I have heard. When she first called, 
 I inquired after you. The reply was that you were on a 
 visit to a lady in England ; that you had left her ; that 
 you had a manie pour VAngleterre; and so saying, she 
 shrugged up her shoulders. I was about to inquire more 
 particularly, but she cut the conversation short by asking 
 to see a new pelisse, and I perceived at once that there 
 was something wrong, but what I could not comprehend. 
 I did not see her till four or five weeks afterwards, when 
 
 she called, accompanied by a Monsieur de G , a person 
 
 well known in Paris, where he bears a very indiiferent 
 character, as a desperate gambler, and a man of very bad 
 disposition concealed under a very polished exterior ; but 
 his character is better known in England, which country, 
 I am told, he was obliged to quit in consequence of some 
 gaming transaction anything but honourable. I again made 
 inquiries after you, and this time the reply was given by 
 
 Monsieur de G , who replied that you were an mgrate, 
 
 and your name must not be in future mentioned by anyone 
 to Madame d'Albret. 
 
 " The handsome face of Monsieur de G , was changed 
 
 to that of a demon when he made this remark, and fully 
 proved to me the truth of the report that he was a person 
 of very bad disposition. Madame d'Albret made no 
 remark, except that she should be careful how she ever 
 engaged a demoiselle de compagnie again. I was struck at 
 this remark from her, as I always considered that you 
 were (and indeed I know you were at one time), viewed 
 in a very different light, and I was quite mystified. 
 About a fortnight afterwards Madame d'Albret called 
 upon me and announced her intended marriage to 
 
Valerie 
 
 55 
 
 Monsieur de G , and requested me to make her 
 
 wedding dresses. Here the whole mystery was out, but 
 
 why, because she marries Monsieur de G , you should 
 
 lose her protection, and why Monsieur de G should be 
 
 so inveterate against you, is more than I can tell. I have 
 now, my dear mademoiselle, given you a detail of all I 
 know, and shall be most happy to hear from you if you 
 will please to write to me, &c. &c. 
 
 " Emile Paon, 
 
 " nee Merce." 
 
 Here was a solution of the whole mystery. I read the 
 letter and fell back on the sofa, gasping for breath. It 
 was some time before I could recover myself. I was 
 alone in my bedroom, my head and eyes swimming ; but 
 I staggered to the washing-stand, and obtained some 
 water. It was half-an-hour before I could recall my 
 astonished senses, and then everything appeared as clear 
 
 to me as if it had been revealed. Monsieur de G 's 
 
 double attentions ; his spiteful look at my refusal ; his 
 occupying himself wholly with Madame d'Albret after I 
 refused him ; her wishing to get rid of me, by sending 
 me to England with Madame Bathurst, and her subsequent 
 
 false and evasive conduct. Monsieur de G had had 
 
 his revenge, and gained his point at the same time. He 
 had obtained the wealth of Madame d'Albret to squander 
 at the gaming table, and had contrived, by some means 
 or another, to ruin me in her good opinion. I perceived 
 at once that all was lost, and when I considered the 
 awkwardness of my position, I was almost in despair. 
 
 Chapter VI 
 
 As I continued for more than an hour on the sofa, 
 gloomily passing in review my short career, my present 
 position, and occasionally venturing a surmise upon the 
 
^6 Valerie 
 
 future, a feeling which I had not had before, — one which 
 had hitherto been latent — pride, gradually was awakened 
 in my bosom, and as it was aroused, it sustained me. I 
 have before observed that fear had been my predominat- 
 ing feeling till I had quitted my parents, love and 
 gratitude had succeeded it, but now, smarting under 
 injustice, pride, and, with pride, many less worthy 
 passions, were summoned up, and I appeared in the course 
 of two short hours to be another being. I felt confidence 
 in myself, my eyes were opened all at once as it were to 
 the heartlessness of the world ; the more I considered the 
 almost hopeless condition in which I was in, the more my 
 energy was roused. I sat down on the sofa a confiding, 
 clinging girl. I rose up a resolute, clear-sighted 
 woman. 
 
 I reflected, and had made up my mind that Madame 
 d'Albret would never forgive one whom she had 
 injured as she had me. She had induced me to break off 
 all family and parental ties (such as they were), she had 
 made me wholly dependent upon her, and had now cast 
 me off in a cruel and heartless manner. She had used 
 deceit because she knew that she could not justify her con- 
 duct. She had raised calumnies against me, accusing me 
 of ingratitude, as an excuse for her own conduct. Any- 
 thing like a reconciliation therefore was impossible, and any 
 assistance from her I was determined not to accept. 
 
 Besides, was she not married to Monsieur de G , whom 
 
 pique at my refusal had made my enemy, and who had, in 
 all probability, as he pressed his own suit, perceived the 
 necessity, independent of the gratification it afforded him 
 to be my ruin, of removing me as a serious obstacle to 
 Madame d'Albret's contracting a new alliance ? From 
 that quarter, therefore, there was nothing to be expected 
 or hoped for, even if it were desired. And what was my 
 position with Madame Bathurst ? On a visit ! At the 
 termination of which I was houseless. 
 
 That Madame Bathurst would probably offer me a 
 temporary asylum, for she would hardly turn me out of 
 
Valerie ^y 
 
 doors, I felt convinced ; but my new-born pride revolted 
 at the idea of dependence upon one on whom I had no 
 claim whatever. What, then, was to be done ? I examined 
 my capital. I was handsome, but that was of no use to 
 
 me ; the insidious conduct of Monsieur de G had 
 
 raised to positive dislike the indifference that I felt for his 
 sex, and I had no inclination to make a market of my 
 personal advantages. I could sing and play well. I spoke 
 French and English, and understood Italian. I could 
 embroider the work well with my needle. Such were my 
 capabilities, my stock-in-trade with which to commence the 
 world ; T was, therefore, competent to a certain degree to 
 give lessons in music and in French, or to take a 
 governess's place, or to become a modiste. 
 
 I thought of Madame Paon, but when I reflected in what 
 manner I had visited her, the respect and homage, I may 
 say, which had been offered up to me, and how different 
 my reception and treatment would be if I entered the 
 establishment as one of themselves, the reflection was too 
 mortifying, and I determined that if I were driven to such 
 an employment for my livelihood, it should be where I 
 was not known. After much consideration, I decided that 
 I would see Madame Bathurst, make known to her my 
 intentions, and ask her assistance and recommendation to 
 procure me a situation. I arranged my hair, removed all 
 traces of my late agitation, and went down to her. I found 
 her alone, and asking her whether she could spare me a 
 few minutes of her time, I handed to her the letter which 
 I had received from Madame Paon, and then made her 
 acquainted with that portion of my history with which she 
 had been unacquainted. As I spoke my courage revived, 
 and my voice became firm — I felt that I was no longer a 
 girl. 
 
 " Madame Bathurst, I have confided this to you, because 
 you will agree with me that there can be nothing more 
 between Madame d'Albret and me, for even if she made an 
 offer, I would never accept it. I am now in a very false 
 position, owing to her conduct. I am here on a visit, 
 
58 Valerie 
 
 supposed by you to be the protegee of that lady, and a 
 person of some consequence. Her protection has been 
 taken away from me, and I am now a beggar, with nothing 
 but my talents for my future support. I explain this to 
 you frankly, because I cannot think of remaining as your 
 visitor ; and if I do not ask too much, all that I wish of 
 your friendship is, that you will give me such a recom- 
 mendation as you think I deserve, by which I may obtain 
 the means of future livelihood." 
 
 " My dear Valerie," replied Madame Bathurst, " I will 
 not hurt your feelings. It is a heavy blow, and I am glad 
 to perceive, that instead of being crushed by it, you appear 
 to rise. I have heard of Madame d'Albret's marriage, and 
 the deceit which she has been practising evidently to get 
 rid of you. Not many days ago I wrote to her, pointing 
 out the variance between what she stated in her letters, 
 and her actual position, and requesting to know what was 
 to be done relative to you. Her answer I have received 
 this day. She states that you have cruelly deceived her ; 
 that at the very time that you professed the utmost grati- 
 tude and affection, you were slandering her and laughing 
 
 at her behind her back, particularly to Monsieur de G , 
 
 to whom she is now married ; and that, however she might 
 be inclined to forgive and overlook your conduct herself, 
 
 that Monsieur de G is resolute, and determined that 
 
 you never shall come again under his roof. She has, 
 therefore, transmitted a billet of 500 francs to enable you 
 to return to your father's house." 
 
 "Then," replied I, "it is as I suspected j Monsieur de 
 G is the cause of all." 
 
 "Why did you trust him, Valerie, or rather why were 
 you so imprudent, and I must add, ungrateful, to speak of 
 Madame d'Albret as you did." 
 
 " And you believe it, Madame Bathurst, you believe 
 that I did so ? I can only say that if such is your belief, 
 the sooner we part the better." 
 
 I then told her what I had omitted in my narrative, how 
 I had refused Monsieur de G , and explaining his 
 
Valerie 59 
 
 character, showed that he had acted thus out of interest 
 and revenge. 
 
 "I believe it all now, Valerie, and I must beg your 
 pardon for having supposed that you had been ungrateful. 
 This explanation relieves me, and enables me to make you 
 the offer which I had thought of doing, had I not been 
 checked by this calumny against you. I say, therefore, 
 for the present, my dear Valerie, remain here. You are 
 quite equal to be governess to Caroline, but I prefer you 
 should remain with me more as a friend than as a governess. 
 I say this, because I fear you will be too proud to remain 
 as a dependent, without making yourself useful. You 
 know that I did intend to take a governess for Caroline as 
 soon as we went to London. I will now take you if you 
 will consent, and shall feel the obligation on my side, as 1 
 shall not only have retained a capable person, but shall also 
 not lose a dear young friend." 
 
 " I thank you for the offer, my dear madame," replied I, 
 rising and courtseying ; ** I trust, however, that you will 
 allow me a little time for reflection before I decide. You 
 must admit that this is a most critical epoch in my life, and 
 I must not make one false step if it is possible to prevent it." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Madame Bathurst, " certainly. 
 You are right, Valerie, in reflecting well before you 
 decide; but I must say that you are rather haughty in 
 your manner towards me." 
 
 " I may have been, my dear Madame Bathurst, but if so, 
 take my excuses. Recollect the Valerie of yesterday, 
 who was your visitor and young friend, is not the Valerie 
 of to-day ! " and with these words I took up the cheque 
 for 500 francs which Madame Bathurst had laid on the 
 table, left the room, and returned to my own apartment. 
 
 I returned to my room, and was glad to be once more 
 alone, for although I bore up well under the circumstances, 
 still the compressed excitement was wearying to the frame. 
 I had resolved to accept the offer of Madame Bathurst 
 at the time that she made it, but I did not choose to appear 
 to jump at it, as she probably expected that I would. I 
 
6o Valerie 
 
 felt no confidence in anyone but my own self after the 
 treatment of Madame d'Albret, and I considered that 
 Madame Bathurst would probably dismiss me as soon as 
 my services were no longer required, with as little cere- 
 mony as had Madame d'Albret. That I was capable of 
 taking charge of and instructing Caroline, I knew well, 
 and that Madame Bathurst would not easily procure a 
 governess so capable in singing and music as myself. 
 There would be consequently no obligation, and I resolved 
 that I would reject her terms if they were not favourable. 
 I had some money, for I had spent but a small portion of 
 twenty sovereigns which Madame d'Albret had given me 
 in a purse when I quitted her. I had therefore the means 
 of subsistence for some little time, should I not come to 
 terms with Madame Bathurst. 
 
 After an hour's reflection, I sat down and wrote a letter 
 to Madame Paon, stating what had occurred, and my 
 determination to obtain my own livelihood, and adding that 
 as I was not sure whether I should accept of Madame 
 Bathurst's offer, I wished her to give me a letter of intro- 
 duction to some French acquaintance of hers in London, 
 as I was an utter stranger to everything, and without 
 advice, should probably be cheated in every way. As 
 soon as this letter was finished I commenced another to 
 Madame d'Albret, which was in the following words : — 
 
 " My dear Madame, 
 " Yes, I will still say my dear madame, for although you 
 will never hear of me again, you are still dear to me, more 
 dear perhaps than you were, when I considered you my 
 patroness and my more than mother. And why so, — 
 because when those we love are in misfortune, when those 
 who have benefited us are likely to soon want succour 
 themselves, it is then the time that we should pour out 
 our gratitude and love. I do not consider it your fault, 
 my dear Madame d'Albret, that you have been deceived 
 by a base hypocrite, who wears so captivating a mask ; I 
 do not blame you that you have been persuaded by him 
 
Valerie 6i 
 
 that I have slandered and behaved ungratefully to you. 
 You have been blinded by your own feelings towards him 
 and by his consummate art. I am also to blame for not 
 having communicated to you that he made me a proposal of 
 marriage but a short time previous to my departure, and 
 which I indignantly rejected, because he had taken such 
 an unusual step without any previous communication with 
 you on the subject — not that I would have accepted him, 
 even if you had wished it, for I knew how false and 
 unworthy he was considered to be. I should have told 
 you, my dear madame, of this offer of marriage on his 
 part, but he requested me as a favour not to mention it to 
 you, and I did not then know that he was a ruined man, 
 a desperate gambler, and that he had been obliged to quit 
 this country for dishonourable practices at the gaming- 
 table, as you may easily discover to be true ; for even 
 Madame Paon can give you all the necessary information. 
 And into this man's hands have you fallen, my dear 
 Madame d'Albret. Alas, how you are to be pitied ! my 
 heart bleeds for you, and I fear that a few months will 
 suffice to prove to you the truth of what I now write. 
 That I am a sufferer by the conduct of Monsieur de 
 
 G is true. I have lost a kind patroness, an indulgent 
 
 mother, and am now left to obtain my own livelihood how 
 I can. All my visions, all my dreams of happiness with 
 you, all my wishes of proving my gratitude and love for 
 your kindness have vanished, and here I am, young, alone, 
 and unprotected. But I think not of myself; at all events 
 I am free — I am not chained to such a person as Monsieur 
 
 de G , and it is of you, and all that you will have to 
 
 suffer, that my thoughts and heart are full. I return you 
 the cheque for 500 francs — I cannot take the money. You 
 are married to Monsieur de G — — , and I can accept 
 nothing from one who has made you believe that Valerie 
 could be calumnious and ungrateful. Adieu, my dear 
 madame ; I shall pray for you, and weep over your 
 misfortunes. " Yours ever gratefully, 
 
 " Valerie de Chatenosuf." 
 
62 Valerie 
 
 That there was a mixed feeling in this letter, I confess. 
 As I said in it, I really pitied Madame d'Albret and for- 
 gave her her unkindness ; but I sought revenge upon 
 
 Monsieur de G , and in seeking that, I planted daggers 
 
 into the heart of Madame d'Albret ; but I did not at the 
 time that I wrote reflect upon this. What I wished to do 
 was to vindicate myself, and that I could not do without 
 
 exposing Monsieur de G , and exposing him in his 
 
 true colours was, of course, awakening Madame d'Albret 
 to her position sooner than she would have been, and 
 filling her mind with doubts and jealousy. That this was 
 not kind, I felt when I had perused what I had written 
 previous to folding the letter, but I felt no inclination to 
 alter it, probably because I had not quite so wholly for- 
 given Madame d'Albret as I thought that I had. Be it as 
 it may, the letter was sealed and despatched by that 
 night's post, as well as that written to Madame Paon. 
 
 I had now only to arrange with Madame Bathurst, and 
 I went down into the drawing-room where I found her 
 alone. **I have considered, my dear Madame Bathurst," 
 said I, "your kind proposal. I certainly have had a little 
 struggle to get over, as you must admit that it is not 
 pleasant to sink from a visitor in a family into a dependent, 
 as I must in future be, if I remain with you, but the 
 advantages of being with a person whom I respect as much 
 as I do you, and of having charge of a young person to 
 whom I am so attached as I am to Caroline, have decided 
 me on accepting your offer. May I know then, what may 
 be the terms upon which I am received as governess ? " 
 
 " Valerie, I feel that this is all pride," replied Madame 
 Bathurst, " but still it is not disreputable pride, and 
 though I shall yield to it, I would have made no terms, 
 but retained you as a dear friend, my purse and every- 
 thing in the house at your command, and I hoped that you 
 would have allowed me so to do ; but as you will not, I 
 have only to say that I should have expected to pay any 
 governess whom I might have retained for Caroline, a 
 salary of ;^Ioo per annum, and that I offer you the same." 
 
Valerie 6^ 
 
 "It is more than sufficient, my dear madame," replied I, 
 *'and I accept your offer if you will take me on trial for 
 six months." 
 
 "Valerie, you make me laugh, and make me angry at 
 the same time, but I can bear much from you now, for 
 you have had a heavy blow, my poor child. Now let's 
 say no more on the subject ; all is settled, and the arrange- 
 ment will remain a secret, unless you publish it yourself." 
 
 "I certainly shall make no secret of it, Madame 
 Bathurst ; I should be sorry to show false colours, and be 
 supposed by your friends to be otherwise than what I 
 really am. I have- done nothing that I ought to be 
 ashamed of, and I abhor deceit. Whatever may be my 
 position in life, I trust that I shall never disgrace the name 
 that I bear, and I am not the first of a noble name who 
 has had a reverse in fortune." ' 
 
 How strange that I now, for the first time in my life, 
 began to feel pride in my family name. I presume because 
 when we have lost almost everything, we cherish more 
 that which remains to us. From the time that Madame 
 Bathurst had first known me till the last twenty-four 
 hours, not a symptom of pride had ever been discovered 
 in me. As the protegee and adopted daughter of Madame 
 d'Albret, with brilliant prospects, I was all humility — now 
 a dependent, with a salary of £loo per annum, Valerie 
 was as proud as Lucifer himself. Madame Bathurst per- 
 ceived this, and I must do her the justice to say, that she 
 was very guarded in her conduct towards me. She felt 
 sympathy for me, and treated me with more kindness, and, 
 I may say, with more respect than she did when I was her 
 visitor and her equal. 
 
 The next day I informed Caroline of the change in my 
 prospects, and of my having accepted the office of 
 governess — that was to say, on a six months' trial. I 
 pointed out to her that it would now be my duty to see 
 that she did not neglect her studies, and that I was 
 determined to do justice to Madame Bathurst's confidence 
 reposed in me. Caroline, who was of a very amiable and 
 
64 Valeric 
 
 sweet disposition, replied, " That she should always look 
 upon me as her friend and companion, and from her love 
 for me, would do everything I wished," and she kept her 
 word. 
 
 The reader will agree with me, that it was impossible 
 for any one to have been lowered down in position more 
 gently than I was in this instance. The servants never 
 knew that I had accepted the offer of governess, for I was 
 invariably called Valerie by Madame Bathurst and her 
 niece, and was treated as I was before when a visitor to 
 the house. I bestowed much time upon Caroline, and 
 taught myself daily, that I might be more able to teach 
 her. I went back to the elements in everything, that I 
 might be more capable of instructing, and Caroline made 
 rapid progress in music, and promised to have, in a few 
 years, a very fine voice. "We went to town for the season, 
 but I avoided company as much as possible — so much so, 
 that Madame Bathurst complained of it. 
 
 " Valerie, you do wrong not to make your appearance. 
 You retire in such a way that people naturally put 
 questions to me, and ask if you are the governess, or what 
 you are." 
 
 **I wish them to do so, my dear madame, and I want 
 you to reply frankly. I am the governess, and do not like 
 anything like concealment." 
 
 ** But I cannot admit that you are what may be called a 
 governess, Valerie. You are a young friend staying with 
 me, who instructs my niece." 
 
 " That is what a governess ought to be," replied I, " a 
 young friend who instructs your children." 
 
 " I grant it," replied Madame Bathurst ; " but I fear if 
 you were to take the situation in another family, you would 
 find that a governess is not generally so considered or so 
 treated. I do not know any class of people, who are more 
 to be pitied than these young people who enter families as 
 governesses ; not considered good enough for the drawing- 
 room, they are too good for the kitchen ; they are treated 
 with hauteur by the master and mistress, and only admitted, 
 
Valerie 6^ 
 
 or suffered for a time to be in their company ; by the 
 servants they are considered as not having claims to those 
 attentions and civilities, for which they are paid and fed , 
 because receiving salaries, or * wages like themselves,' as 
 they assert, they are not entitled in their opinion to be 
 attended upon. Thus are they, in most houses, neglected 
 by all parties. Unhappy themselves, they cause ill-will 
 and dissension, and more servants are dismissed, or given 
 warning, on account of the governesses, than from any 
 other cause. In the drawing-room they are a check upon 
 conversation ; in the school-room, if they do their duty, 
 they are the cause of discontent, pouting and tears ; like 
 the bat, they are neither bird nor beast, and they flit about 
 the house like ill-omens ; they lose the light-heartedness 
 and spring of youth ; become sour from continual vexation 
 and annoyance, and their lives are miserable, tedious, and 
 full of repining. I tell you this candidly ; it is a harsh 
 picture, but I fear too true a one. With me I trust you 
 will be happy, but you will run a great risk if you were to 
 change and go into another family." 
 
 **I have heard as much before, my dear madame," 
 replied I ; " but your considerate kindness has made me 
 forget it. I can only say that it will be a melancholy day 
 when I am forced to quit your roof." 
 
 Visitors announced, interrupted the conversation. I 
 have before mentioned the talent I had for dress, and the 
 kindness of Madame Bathurst, induced me to exert all 
 that I possessed in her favour. Every one was pleased, 
 and expressed admiration at the peculiar elegance of her 
 attire, and asked who was the modiste she employed, and 
 Madame Bathurst never failed to ascribe all the merit to 
 me. 
 
 Time passed on rapidly, and the season was nearly over. 
 Madame Bathurst had explained to her most intimate 
 friends the alteration which had taken place in my 
 prospects, and that I remained with her more as a 
 companion than in any other capacity. This procured 
 me consideration and respect, and I very often had in^ 
 V . E 
 
66 Valerie 
 
 vitations to parties j but I invariably refused ; except, 
 occasionally, accepting a seat in the box at the Opera 
 and French plays I was content to remain quiet. 
 
 Madame Paon had, as I requested, sent me a letter of 
 introduction to a friend of hers, a Monsieur Gironac, who 
 lived in Leicester Square. He was a married man, without 
 family. He obtained his livelihood by giving lessons on 
 the flute, on the guitar, and in teaching French during 
 the day, and at night was engaged as second violin in the 
 orchestra of the Opera House ; so that he had many 
 strings to his bow, besides those of his fiddle. His wife, 
 a pretty little lively woman, taught young ladies to make 
 flowers in wax, and mended lace in the evenings. They 
 were a very amiable and amusing couple, always at good- 
 natured warfare with each other, and sparring all day 
 long, from the time they met until they parted. Their 
 battles were the most comical and amusing I ever 
 witnessed, and generally ended in roars of laughter. 
 They received me with the greatest kindness and con- 
 sideration, treating me with great respect, until our 
 extreme intimacy no longer required it, and our friendship 
 increased more than it could have done from Caroline 
 expressing a wish to learn to model flowers, and becoming 
 the pupil of Madame Gironac. Such was the state of 
 affairs when the London season was over, and we once 
 more returned to the country. 
 
 The time flew away rapidly. Madame Bathurst treated 
 me with kindness and respect, Caroline with affection, 
 and I was again quite happy and contented. I was earnest 
 in my endeavours to improve Caroline, and moreover had 
 the satisfaction to feel and hear it acknowledged that my 
 attempts were not thrown away. I looked forward to 
 remaining at least till Caroline's education was complete, 
 which it could not be under two or three years, and 
 feeling security for such a period I gave myself little 
 thought of the future, when a circumstance occurred 
 which put an end to all my calculations. 
 
 I have stated that Caroline was the niece of Madame 
 
Valerie 6"] 
 
 Bathurst ; she was the daughter of a younger sister who 
 had contracted an unfortunate marriage, having eloped 
 with a young man who had not a shilling that he could 
 call his own, and whose whole dependence was upon 
 an uncle, without a family. This imprudent match had, 
 however, raised the indignation of his relative, who from 
 that moment told him he was to expect nothing from him 
 either before or after his death. The consequence was 
 that Madame Bathurst's sister and husband were in a state 
 of great distress, until Madame Bathurst, by exerting 
 herself in his behalf, procured for him a situation of ;^3oo 
 per annum in the Excise. Upon this sum, and the 
 occasional presents of Madame Bathurst, they contrived 
 to live, but having two boys and a girl to educate, 
 Madame Bathurst took charge of the latter, who was 
 Caroline, promising that she would either establish her 
 in life, or leave her a sufficiency at her death. Madame 
 Bathurst had a very large jointure, and could well afford 
 to save up every year for Caroline, which she had done 
 ever since she had taken charge of her, at seven years 
 old. At the time that I have been speaking of, it appeared 
 that the uncle of the father of Caroline died, and notwith- 
 standing his threat bequeathed to his nephew the whole 
 of his large property, by which he became even more 
 wealthy than Madame Bathurst. The consequence was 
 that Madame Bathurst received a letter announcing this 
 intelligence, and winding up with a notification that 
 Caroline was to be immediately taken back to her father's 
 house. In the letter — which I read, for Madame Bathurst, 
 who was in great distress, handed it to me, observing 
 at the time, " This concerns you as well as me and 
 Caroline " — there were not any expressions of gratitude 
 for the great kindness which they had received from her 
 hands ; it was an unkind, unfeeling letter, and I was 
 disgusted when I had gone through it. 
 
 " Is this all the return that you receive for what you 
 have done for your sister and her husband ? " observed I ; 
 " the more I see of this world, the more I hate it." 
 
68 Valerie 
 
 " It is indeed most selfish and unfeeling," replied 
 Madame Bathurst : ** Caroline has been so long with me, 
 that I have looked upon her as my own child, and now 
 she is to be torn from me, without the least consideration 
 of my feelings. It is very cruel and very ungrateful." 
 
 Madame Bathurst, after this remark, rose and left the 
 room. As I afterwards discovered, she replied to the 
 letter, pointing out how long she had had charge of 
 Caroline, and now considered her as her daughter, and 
 requesting her parents to allow her to return to her after 
 she paid them a visit ; pointing out how unkind and 
 ungrateful it was of them to take her away, now that 
 their circumstances were altered, and how very painful 
 it would be for her if they did so. To this appeal on her 
 part she received a most insulting answer, in which she 
 was requested to make out an account of the expenses 
 incurred for the education and maintenance of her niece, 
 that they might be reimbursed forthwith. On this 
 occasion, for the first time, I saw Madame Bathurst really 
 angry, and certainly not without good cause. She sent 
 for Caroline, who as yet had only been informed that her 
 father and mother had succeeded to a large inheritance, 
 and put the letter into her hands with a copy of her own, 
 requesting that she would read them, watching her coun- 
 tenance with the severest scrutiny as she complied with 
 the injunction, as if to discover if she inherited the ingrati- 
 tude of her parents. Such was not the case, for poor 
 Caroline sunk, covered her face with her hands, and then 
 rushing to Madame Bathurst, fell on her knees before her, 
 and burying her face in her aunt's lap, cried as if her heart 
 would break. After a few minutes, Madame Bathurst 
 raised up her niece, and kissed her, saying, 
 
 "I am satisfied ; my dear Caroline at least is not 
 ungrateful. Now, my child, you must do your duty and 
 obey your parents — as we must part, the sooner we part 
 the better. Valerie, will you see that everything is ready 
 for Caroline's going away to-morrow morning ? " 
 
 Saying this, Madame Bathurst disengaged herself from 
 
Valerie 69 
 
 Caroline and quitted the room. It was a long while before 
 I could reason the poor girl into anything like composure. 
 I could not help agreeing with her that the conduct of her 
 parents was most ungracious towards Madame Bathurst, 
 but at the same time I pointed out to her how natural it 
 was, that having but one daughter, her parents should 
 wish for her return to their own care ; that the resigning 
 her to Madame Bathurst must have been a severe trial 
 to them, and that it could only be from consulting her 
 advantage that they could have consented to it ; but not- 
 withstanding all that I could urge, Caroline's indignation 
 against her parents, of whom she knew but little, was very 
 great, and her dislike to return home as strong. However, 
 there was no help for it as Madame Bathurst had decided 
 that she was to go, and I persuaded her to come with 
 me and prepare her clothes ready for packing up. We 
 did not meet at dinner that day, Madame Bathurst sending 
 an excuse that she was too much out of spirits to leave 
 her room ; Caroline and I were equally so, and we re- 
 mained where we were. In the evening, Madame Bathurst 
 sent for me ; I found her in bed and looking very ill. 
 
 " Valerie," said she, " I wish Caroline to start early 
 to-morrow morning, that, as you accompany her, you 
 may be able to return here before night. I shall not be 
 able to see her to-morrow morning. I must, therefore, 
 bid her farewell this night ; bring her here, and the 
 sooner it is over the better." 
 
 I went for Caroline, and a bitter parting it was •, I 
 hardly know which of the three cried the most, but after 
 half-an-hour Madame Bathurst signed to me to take 
 Caroline away, which I did, and afterwards put her into 
 bed as soon as I could. Having remained with her till 
 she had sobbed herself to sleep, I went down to the 
 servants and gave Madame Bathurst's directions for the 
 next morning, and then retired myself. Worn out as I 
 was with such a day of anxiety and distress, I could not 
 close my eyes for some time, reflecting upon what might 
 be the issue of this breaking up of the connection to 
 
70 Valerie 
 
 myself. I had been engaged as governess to Caroline, 
 and I could not well expect that Madame Bathurst would 
 wish to retain me now that Caroline was removed from 
 her care; neither, indeed, would my pride permit me 
 to accept such an offer if made, as I should become a 
 mere dependent on her bounty, with no services to offer 
 in return. That I must leave Madame Bathurst was 
 certain, and that I must look out for some other situation. 
 I took it for granted that Madame Bathurst would not 
 permit me to leave immediately, but allow me a short 
 time to look out for a suitable situation ; but whether I 
 should decide upon taking the situation of a governess 
 after what Madame Bathurst had told me, or what 
 situation I should seek was the cause of much thought 
 and indecision. At last I could make no mind up, and 
 decided that I would trust to Providence, and having so 
 far come to a conclusion, I fell asleep. 
 
 After an early breakfast, I set off in the carriage with 
 Caroline in charge, and before noon, we arrived at her 
 father's house. The servants dressed in very gaudy 
 liveries, ushered us into the library, where we found her 
 father and mother waiting to receive her. A first glance 
 satisfied me that they were swelled with pride at the 
 change in their fortunes. Caroline was not received with 
 great cordiality. There was a stiffness on the part of 
 her parents which would have checked any feelings of 
 affection on her part, had she been inclined to show them, 
 which I was sorry to perceive she did not ; indeed, 
 her feelings appeared rather those of resentment for the 
 conduct they had shown to her aunt. After the saluta- 
 tion of meeting, Caroline sat down on a sofa, opposite to 
 her father and mother. I remained standing, and when 
 the pause took place I said, 
 
 ** I was deputed by Madame Bathurst to convey your 
 daughter safe to you, and as soon as the horses are baited, 
 I am to return home." 
 
 " Who may this person be, Caroline ? " demanded her 
 mother. 
 
Valerie 7 1 
 
 ** I must apologise to Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf for 
 not having introduced her," replied Caroline, blushing 
 with annoyance. " She is a very dear friend of mine and 
 my aunt's." 
 
 " Latterly I have been the governess of your daughter, 
 madame," said I. 
 
 "Oh!" said the lady. "Will somebody ring the^ 
 bell ? " 
 
 I presumed by this somebody it was intended to convey 
 to me that I was to perform that office ; but as they had 
 not had the common civility to ask me to take a chair I 
 took no notice. 
 
 " Will you ring the bell, my dear," said the lady to 
 her husband. 
 
 The gentleman complied ; and when the servant entered 
 the lady said, " Show the governess into the small 
 breakfast-room, and tell the coachman to put up his 
 horses and bait them. He must be round again in an 
 hour." 
 
 The man stood with the door in his hand waiting for 
 me to follow him. Not a little indignant, I turned to 
 Caroline, and said to her, " I had better wish you good- 
 bye now." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Valerie, you had," replied Caroline 
 rising from the sofa, "for I am ashamed to look you in 
 the face, after such treatment as you have received. 
 Will you," continued she, with great spirit, " accept my 
 apology for the behaviour of my parents towards one who 
 is of a much higher family, and much higher breeding 
 than they can boast of." 
 
 "Hush! Caroline," said I ; "recollect—" 
 
 " I do recollect, and shall continue to recollect, the 
 insults to my dear aunt in the first place, and now the 
 insult to you, my dear Valerie," retorted Caroline, who 
 then put her arms round my neck and kissed me several 
 times ; having so done she darted from me, threw herself 
 on the sofa and burst into tears, while I hastened to 
 follow the servant, to escape from such an unpleasant scene. 
 
72 Valerie 
 
 I was shown into a small room, where I remained some 
 little time, thinking how true were Madame Bathurst's 
 observations as to what I might expect in the position of 
 a governess, when a servant came in, and in a condescend- 
 ing manner asked if I did not wish to have some lunch. 
 I replied in the negative. 
 
 *' You can have a glass of wine if you choose," con- 
 tinued he. 
 
 *' You may leave the room," I replied, calmly, " I wish 
 for nothing." 
 
 The man went out, slamming the door, and I was again 
 alone. I reflected upon the scene I had just been witness 
 to, and I own that I was surprised at Caroline's conduct, 
 who had always appeared so mild and amiable ; but the 
 fact appeared to me to be, that when parents give up 
 their children to the care of another, they surrender at 
 the same time all those feelings which should exist 
 between parent and child to the party who undertakes 
 the charge of them. The respect and love which by 
 nature belonged to them were now transferred to her 
 aunt, to whom Caroline was always obedient and attached. 
 The insult to me was resented by Caroline as if it had 
 been offered by perfect strangers to her ; Caroline not 
 feeling herself at all checked by filial duty. There 
 appeared to be little prospect of any addition to the 
 happiness of either of the parties by the return of Caroline 
 to her father's house, and how it would end I could not 
 surmise. 
 
 At last my reverie was interrupted by the servant 
 coming in and telling me that the carriage was at the 
 door. I immediately followed him and set off on my 
 return, during which I resolved that I would not leave my 
 own expectations any longer in doubt, but come immedi- 
 ately to an understanding with Madame Bathurst. 
 
 As it was late when I arrived, I did not see Madame 
 Bathurst that evening, but she came down to breakfast 
 the next morning, when I informed her of all that had 
 occurred at her sister's, and the unceremonious manner in 
 
Valerie "j^^ 
 
 which I had been treated, and having done so, I then 
 observed, that of course I did not expect to remain with 
 her now that Caroline was gone, and begged she would 
 give me her advice and assistance in procuring another 
 situation. 
 
 " At all events, do not be in a hurry, Valerie," replied 
 Madame Bathurst ; " I trust you will not refuse to be my 
 visitor until you are suited to your liking. I will not ask 
 you to stay with me, as I know you will refuse, and I do 
 not pay unnecessary compliments. And yet, why should 
 you not ? I know you well, and am attached to you. I 
 shall feel the loss of Caroline severely. "Why not 
 remain ? " 
 
 " Many thanks, my dear madame," replied I, "for your 
 kind wishes and expressions, but you know my resolution 
 has been made to earn my own livelihood." 
 
 "I know that; but a resolution may be altered when 
 circumstances demand it. Madame d'Albret was no more 
 related to you than I am, and yet you accepted her offer." 
 
 "I did, madame," replied I, bitterly, **and you know 
 the result. I would have staked my life upon her 
 sincerity and affection, and yet how was I cast away .'* 
 "With every feeling of gratitude, my dear madame, I cannot 
 accept your offer, for I never will put myself in a similar 
 position a second time." 
 
 " You do not pay me a very great compliment by that 
 remark, Valerie," said Madame Bathurst somewhat harshly. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear madame, I should be sorry if any- 
 thing I have said should annoy one who has been so kind 
 and considerate to me as you have been ; but I know that 
 I should be miserable and unhappy if not independent, and 
 I never can risk a second shock, like that I received from 
 the conduct of Madame d'Albret. I entreat as a favour 
 that you will not continue the subject." 
 
 " Well, Valerie, I will not \ perhaps had I been treated 
 as you have been, I might feel the same. "What then do 
 you propose to seek ? Is it the situation of a governess ? " 
 
 ** Anything in preference, my dear madame ; I was 
 
74 Valerie 
 
 sufficiently humiliated yesterday. I should prefer that of 
 a lady's maid, although I hope not to descend quite so 
 low." 
 
 ** There are so few situations for a person educated as 
 you have been. There is a companion for a lady, which I 
 believe is anything but pleasant. There is that of amanu- 
 ensis, but it is seldom required. You might certainly go 
 out and give lessons in music, and singing, and in the 
 French language ; but there are so many French masters 
 and mistresses, and for music and singing a master is 
 always preferred, why, I do not exactly know. However, 
 I think something may be done when we go to town, but 
 till then all that we can do is to talk the matter over. 
 Perhaps something may turn up when we least expect it. 
 I will, however, now that I know your decision, make 
 every inquiry, and give you all the assistance in my 
 power." 
 
 I expressed my thanks and gratitude, and the conversa- 
 tion ended. 
 
 I did not, however, trust altogether to Madame Bathurst. 
 I wrote a letter to my acquaintance, Madame Gironac, in 
 Leicester Square, stating what had occurred, and what my 
 ideas and intentions were, requesting her to give me her 
 advice and opinion as to the best plan I could follow. In 
 a few days I received from her the following reply, which 
 I insert as characteristic of the party. 
 
 "My dear Mademoiselle, 
 " Your letter gave great pain to me ; and as for my 
 husband, he was quite furious, and declared that he would 
 not live a minute longer in such an abominable world. 
 However, to oblige me, he has not yet made away with 
 himself. It really is dreadful to see a young lady like you 
 in such an awkward position, from the weakness and follies 
 of others ; but we must submit to what the hon Dieu 
 disposes, and when things come to the worst, hope that a 
 change will take place, as any change must then be for the 
 better. I have consulted my husband about what you 
 
Valerie 75 
 
 propose, but he negatives everything. He says you are 
 too good for a governess ; would be thrown away as a 
 companion to a lady ; that you must not be seen in a cab, 
 going about giving lessons — in fact, he will listen to 
 nothing except that you must come and live with us. I 
 can only say, my dear mademoiselle, that I join in the 
 latter request, and that it would make me perfectly 
 happy, and that the honour and pleasure of your company 
 would be more than a compensation. Still, it is but a 
 poor home to offer to you, but at all events one that you 
 might condescend to take advantage of rather than remain 
 to be mortified by those who think, as they do in this 
 country, that money is everything. Do, pray, then come 
 to us, if you feel inclined, and then we can talk over things 
 quietly, and wait upon Providence. My husband has now 
 hardly time to eat his dinner, he has so many pupils of one 
 kind and the other ; and I am happy to say that I have 
 also most of my time occupied ; and if it pleases God to 
 continue us in good health, we hope to be able to put by a 
 little money for a rainy day, as they say in this country, 
 where it is always raining. Assure yourself, my dear 
 mademoiselle, of our love, respect, consideration. 
 
 Annette Gironac." 
 
 We went to town earlier than usual, Madame Bathurst 
 feeling lonely in the country after the departure of Caroline, 
 from whom she had not received a line since her quitting 
 her. This of course was to be ascribed to her parents, 
 who thus returned all Madame Bathurst's kindness, as soon 
 as they no longer required her assistance. I know not 
 how it was, but gradually a sort of coolness had arisen 
 between Madame Bathurst and me. Whether it was that 
 she was displeased at my refusing her offer to remain with 
 her, or thought proper to wean herself from one who was 
 so soon to quit her, I know not. I did nothing to give 
 offence : I was more quiet and subdued, perhaps, than 
 before, because I had become more reflective ; but I could 
 not accuse myself of any fault or error, that I was aware of. 
 
76 Valerie 
 
 We had been about a week in London, when an old 
 acquaintance of Madame Bathurst's, who had just returned 
 from Italy, where she had resided for two years, called 
 
 upon her. Her name was Lady R : she was the 
 
 widow of a baronet, not in very opulent circumstances, 
 although with a sufficiency to hire, if not keep, a carriage. 
 She was, moreover, an authoress, having written.two or three 
 novels, not very good I was told, but still, emanating from 
 the pen of a lady, they were well paid. She was very 
 eccentric, and rather amusing. When a woman says every- 
 thing that comes into her head, out of a great deal of chaff 
 there will drop some few grains of wheat ; and so some- 
 times, more by accident than otherwise, she said what is 
 called a good thing. Now, a good thing is repeated, 
 
 while all the nonsense is forgotten ; and Lady R was 
 
 considered a wit as well as an authoress. She was a tall 
 woman ; I should think very near, if not past, fifty years 
 of age, with the remains of beauty in her countenance : 
 apparently, she was strong and healthy, as she walked with 
 a spring, and was lively and quick in all her motions. 
 
 " Cara mia," exclaimed she, as she was announced, 
 running up to Madame Bathurst, "and how have you 
 been all this while — my biennial absence in the land of 
 poetry — in which I have laid up such stores of beauteous 
 images and ideas in my mind, that I shall make them last 
 me during my life. Have you read my last ? It's 
 surprising, every one says, and proves the effect of climate 
 on composition — quite new — an Italian story of thrilling 
 interest. And you have something new here, I perceive," 
 continued she, turning to me ; " not only new, but 
 beautiful — introduce me : I am an enthusiast in the 
 sublime and beautiful. Is she any relation ? No relation ! 
 — Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf ! — what a pretty name for 
 a novel. I should like to borrow it, and paint the original 
 from nature. Will you sit for your likeness ? " 
 
 That Lady R allowed no one to talk but herself 
 
 was evident. Madame Bathurst, who knew her well, 
 allowed her to run on 5 and I, not much valuing the dose 
 
Valerie 77 
 
 of flattery so unceremoniously bestowed upon me, took an 
 
 opportunity, when Lady R turned round to whisper 
 
 something to Madame Bathurst, to make my escape from 
 the room. The following morning, Madame Bathurst 
 said to me, 
 
 "Valerie, Lady R was very much pleased with 
 
 your appearance when she made her visit yesterday ; and 
 as she told me, after you had left the room, that she 
 wanted just such a person as yourself as a companion and 
 amanuensis, I thought it right to say that you were look- 
 ing out for something of the kind, and that you were 
 remaining under my protection until you could procure 
 it. We had more conversation on the subject, and she 
 said before she left, that she would write to me on the 
 subject. Her note has just been put into my hands ; you 
 can read it. She offers you a salary of one hundred 
 pounds per annum, all your expenses paid, except your 
 dress. As far as salary goes, I think her terms liberal. 
 
 And now, as to Lady R . My opinion of her is in 
 
 few words. You saw her yesterday, and I never knew 
 her otherwise ; never more or less rational. She is an 
 oddity 5 but she is good-natured ; and, I am told, more 
 liberal and charitable than many others who can afford it 
 better. Now you know all I can tell you about her, and 
 you must decide for yourself. Here is her note ; you 
 need not give me an answer till to-morrow morning." 
 
 I made one or two observations, and then left the room. 
 The note was very kind, certainly, but it was as flighty as 
 her manners. I hastened to my own bedchamber, and sat 
 dov/n to reflect. I felt that I was not exactly comfortable 
 with Madame Bathurst, and certainly was anxious to be 
 independent ; but still, I could not exactly make up my 
 
 mind to accept the offer of Lady R . She was so 
 
 different from those I had been accustomed to live with. 
 T was still deliberating, when Mrs Bathurst's maid came 
 into my room, telling me it was time to change my dress 
 for dinner. As she was assisting me, she said, 
 
 " And so. Miss Chatenoeuf, you are about to quit us, I 
 
yS Valerie 
 
 find. I am so sorry — first, Miss Caroline — now you. I 
 hoped you would stay with us, and I should soon have 
 become an expert milliner under your directions." 
 
 ** Who told you. Mason, that I was* going to leave 
 you ? " 
 
 " Mrs Bathurst told me so, and not a quarter of an hour 
 ago," rephed the woman. 
 
 " Well," replied I, " she told you truly, Mason ; such is 
 the case ; " for this information of Mason's decided me 
 
 upon accepting the offer of Lady R ; for Madame 
 
 Bathurst, it appeared to me, had certainly decided it for me, 
 by making such a premature communication to her servant. 
 
 The reader may suppose, that when I made this dis- 
 covery, I felt little pain at the idea of parting with Madame 
 Bathurst ; and the following morning I coolly announced 
 
 my intention of accepting the offer of Lady R . 
 
 Madame Bathurst looked at me very hard, as if surprised 
 at not hearing from me any regrets at leaving her, and 
 expressions of gratitude for all favours ; but I could not 
 express what I really did not feel at the time. Afterwards 
 I thought that I had been wrong, as, to a certain degree, I 
 was under obligations to her ; not that I think, had she 
 been ever so inclined to get rid of me, she could have well 
 turned me out of the house, although I had been foisted 
 upon her in such a way by Madame d'Albret. Still I was 
 under obligations to her, and should have expressed myself 
 so, if it had not been for the communication made to me 
 by the maid, which proved that her expressions to me 
 were not sincere. 
 
 " Well, then," replied Madame Bathurst, at last, " I will 
 
 write to Lady R immediately. I presume I may say 
 
 that you are at her commands as soon as she can receive 
 you." 
 
 ** Yes, madame, at an hour's notice," replied L 
 
 " You really appear as if you were anxious to quit me, 
 mademoiselle," said Madame Bathurst, biting her lip. 
 
 **I certainly am," replied I. "You informed Mason 
 that I was to go, previous to having my decision ; and 
 
Valerie 79 
 
 therefore I gladly withdraw myself from the company of 
 those who have made up their minds to get rid of me." 
 
 " I certainly did tell Mason that there was a prospect of 
 your quitting me," replied Madame Bathurst, colouring up ; 
 " but — however, it's no use entering into an investigation 
 of what I really said, or catechising my maid : one thing is 
 clear, we have been mutually disappointed with each other, 
 and therefore it perhaps is better that we should part. I 
 believe that I am in your debt. Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf. 
 Have you reckoned how long you have been with me ? " 
 
 " I have reckoned the time that I instructed Caroline." 
 
 " Miss Caroline, if you please. Mademoiselle de 
 Chatenoeuf." 
 
 " Well, then, madame. Miss Caroline, since you wish it ; 
 it is five months and two weeks," replied I, rising from my 
 chair. 
 
 " You may sit down, mademoiselle, while I make the 
 calculation," said Madame Bathurst. 
 
 " It is too great an honour for a Chatenoeuf to sit in your 
 presence," replied I, quietly, remaining on my feet. 
 
 Madame Bathurst made no reply, but calculating the sum 
 of money due to me on a sheet of note paper, handed it to 
 me and begged me to see if it was correct. 
 
 ** I have no doubt of it, madame," replied I, looking at 
 it and then laying it down on the desk before her. 
 
 Madame Bathurst put the sum in banknotes and sovereigns 
 down before me, and said, " Do me the favour to count it, 
 and see if it is correct ; " and then rising, said, " your 
 wishes will be complied with by my servants as usual, 
 mademoiselle, as long as you remain under my roof. I 
 wish you farewell." 
 
 The last words were accompanied with a low courtesy, 
 and she then quitted the room. 
 
 I replied with a salute as formal as her own, and morti- 
 fied at the treatment I had received, I sat down, and a few 
 tears escaped, but my pride came to my assistance, and I 
 soon recovered myself. 
 
 This scene was, however, another proof to me of what 
 
8o 
 
 Valerie 
 
 I must in future expect , and it had the effect of hardening 
 me and blunting my feelings. ^^ Miss Caroline!" said I 
 to myself, " when the protegee of Madame d'Albret, and the 
 visitor of Madame Bathurst, it was Caroline and dear 
 Valerie. She might have allowed me to quit her without 
 pointing out to me in so marked a manner how our relative 
 positions have been changed. However, I thank you, 
 Madame Bathurst ; what obligations I may have been 
 under to you are now cancelled, and I need not regret the 
 weight of them as I might have done. Ah ! Madame 
 d'Albret, you took me from my home that I might not be 
 buffeted by my mother, and now you have abandoned me 
 to be buffeted by the whole world, well, be it so, I will 
 fight my way, nevertheless ; " and as I left the room to 
 pack up my trunks, I felt my courage rise from this very 
 attempt on the part of Madame Bathurst to humiliate me. 
 
 The letter of Madame Bathurst to Lady R , brought 
 
 the latter to the house that afternoon. I was up in my 
 room when I was informed by the servants that she waited 
 below to see me. When I entered she was alone, Madame 
 Bathurst having gone out in her carriage, and as soon as 
 she saw me, she rushed into my arms almost, taking me by 
 both hands, and saying how happy she was that she had 
 acquired such a treasure as a friend and companion ; wished 
 to know whether I could not come with her immediately, 
 as her carriage was at the door, and went on for nearly 
 ten minutes without a check, asking fifty questions, and 
 not permitting me to answer one. At last I was able to 
 reply to the most important, which was, that I would be 
 happy to come to her on the following morning, if she 
 would send for me. She insisted that I should come to 
 breakfast, and I acceded to her request, as Madame 
 Bathurst, who was not an early riser, would not be down 
 at the hour mentioned, and I wished to leave the house 
 without seeing her again, after our formal adieux. Having 
 arranged this, she appeared to be in a great hurry to be 
 off, and skipped out of the room before I could ring the 
 bell to order her carriage. 
 
Valerie 8 1 
 
 I completed my preparations for departure, and had 
 some dinner brought into my own room, sending down an 
 excuse for not joining Madame Bathurst, stating that I 
 had a bad headache, which was true enough. The next 
 morning, long before Madame Bathurst was up, I was 
 driven to Baker Street, Portman Square, where Lady 
 
 R resided. I found her ladyship in her robe de 
 
 chamhre. 
 
 " Well," said she, " this is delightful. My wishes are 
 crowned at last. I have passed a night of uncertainty, 
 rolling about between hopes and fears, as people always 
 do when they have so much at stake. Let me show you 
 your room." 
 
 I found a very well-furnished apartment prepared for 
 me, looking out upon the street. 
 
 " See, you have a front view," she said, *' not extensive, 
 but still you can rise early and moralise. You can see 
 London wake up. First, the drowsy policeman ; the tired 
 cabman and more tired horse after a night of motion, 
 seeking the stable and repose ; the housemaid, half awake, 
 dragging on her clothes ; the kitchen-wench washing from 
 the steps the dirt of yesterday ; the milkmaid's falsetto 
 and the dustman's bass ; the baker's boys, the early post 
 delivery, and thus from units to tens, and from tens to 
 tens of thousands, and London stirs again. There is 
 poetry in that, and now let us down to breakfast. 
 I always breakfast in my robe de chambre ; you must do 
 the same, that is if you like the fashion. Where's the 
 page ? " 
 
 Lady R rang the bell of the sitting-room, which 
 
 she called a boudoir, and a lad of fourteen, in a blue 
 blouse and leather belt made his appearance. 
 
 ** Lionel, breakfast in a moment. Vanish, before the 
 leviathan can swim a league — bring up hot rolls and 
 butter." 
 
 ** Yes, my lady," replied the lad, pertly, " I'll be up 
 again before the chap can swim a hundred yards," and he 
 shot out of the room in a second. 
 V , F 
 
 '0 
 V 
 
 \ 
 
82 Valerie 
 
 " There's virtue in that boy, he has wit enough for a 
 prime minister or a clown at Astley's. I picked him up 
 by a mere chance ; he is one of my models." 
 
 What her ladyship meant by models I could not 
 imagine, but I soon found out; the return of the lad 
 with breakfast put an end to her talking for the time 
 being. When we had finished, the page was again 
 summoned. 
 
 " Now then, Lionel, do your spiriting gently." 
 
 " I know," said the boy, " I'm not to smash the cups 
 and saucers as I did yesterday." 
 
 The lad collected the breakfast things on a tray with 
 great rapidity, and disappeared with such a sudden turn 
 round, that I fully anticipated he would add to yesterday's 
 damage before he was down the stairs. 
 
 As soon as he was gone. Lady R coming up to me, 
 
 said, 
 
 " And now let me have a good look at you, and then 
 I shall be content for some time. Yes, I was not 
 mistaken, you are a perfect model, and must be my 
 future heroine. Yours is just the beauty that I required. 
 There, that will do, now sit down and let us converse. 
 I often have wanted a companion. As for an amanuensis 
 that is only a nominal task, I write as fast as most people, 
 and I cannot follow my ideas, let me scribble for life, 
 as I may say ; and as for my writing being illegible, that's 
 the compositor's concern not mine. It's his business to 
 make it out, and therefore I never have mine copied. 
 But I wanted a beautiful companion and friend — I 
 wouldn't have an ugly one for the world, she would do 
 me as much harm as you will do me service." 
 
 " I am sure I hardly know how I am to do you service. 
 Lady R , if I do not write for you." 
 
 " I daresay not, but when I tell you that I am more 
 than repaid by looking at you when I feel inclined, you 
 will acknowledge that you do me service ; but we will not 
 enter into metaphysics or psychological questions just now, 
 it shall all be explained by-and-bye. And now the first 
 
Valerie 83 
 
 service I ask of you is at once to leap over the dull 
 fortnight of gradual approaching, which at last ends in 
 intimacy. I have ever held it to be a proof of the 
 suspiciousness of our natures and unworthy. You must 
 allow me to call you Valerie at once, and I must entreat of 
 you to call me Sempronia. Your name is delightful, fit 
 for a iirst-class heroine. My real baptismal name is one 
 that I have abjured, and if my godfathers and godmothers 
 did give it to me, I throw it back to them with contempt. 
 What do you think it was ? — Barbara. Barbara, indeed. 
 * My mother had a maid called Barbara,' Shakespeare says, 
 and such a name should be associated with brooms and 
 yellow soap. Call me Sempronia from this time forward, 
 and you confer a favour on me. And now I must write a 
 little, so take a book and a seat on the sofa, for, at the 
 opening of this chapter my heroine is exactly in that 
 position, * in maiden meditation, fancy free.' " 
 
 Chapter VII 
 
 Lady R sat down before her writing materials, and 
 
 I took my seat on the sofa, as she had requested, and was 
 soon occupied with my reading. I perceived that, as she 
 wrote, her ladyship continually took her eyes off her 
 paper, and fixed them upon me. I presumed that she was 
 describing me, and I was correct in my idea, for, in about 
 half-an-hour, she threw down her pen, and cried : 
 
 '* There, I am indebted to you for the best picture of a 
 heroine that I ever drew ! Listen." 
 
 And her ladyship read to me a most flattering descrip- 
 tion of my sweet person, couched in very high-flown 
 language. 
 
 " I think, Lady R ," said I, when she had finished, 
 
 "that you are more indebted to your own imagination 
 than to reality in drawing my portrait." 
 
 "Not so, not so, my dear Valerie. I may have done 
 
84 Valerie 
 
 you justice, but certainly not more. There is nothing 
 like having the living subject to write from. It is the 
 same as painting or drawing, it only can be true when 
 drawn from nature ; in fact, what is writing but painting 
 with the pen ? " 
 
 As she concluded her sentence, the page, Lionel, came 
 in with a letter on a waiter, and hearing her observation, 
 as he handed the letter, he impudently observed : 
 
 ** Here's somebody been painting your name on the 
 outside of this paper ; and as there's 'jd. to pay, I think 
 it's rather dear for such a smudge." 
 
 " You must not judge from outside appearance, 
 
 Lionel," replied Lady R : " the contents may be 
 
 worth pounds. It is not prepossessing, I grant, in its 
 superscription, but may, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 
 wear a precious jewel in its head. That was a vulgar 
 error of former days, Lionel, which Shakespeare has taken 
 advantage of." 
 
 *' Yes, that chap painted with a pen at a fine rate," 
 
 replied the boy, as Lady R opened the letter and 
 
 read it. 
 
 " You may go, Lionel," said she, putting the letter 
 down. 
 
 "I just wanted to know, now that you've opened your 
 toad, if you have found the jewel, or whether it's a vulgar 
 error ? " 
 
 " It's a vulgar letter, at all events, Lionel," replied her 
 ladyship, " and concerns you ; it is from the shoemaker at 
 Brighton, who requests me to pay him eighteen shillings 
 for a pair of boots ordered by you, and not paid for." 
 
 *' Well, my lady, I do owe for the boots, true enough ; 
 but it's impossible for me always to recollect my own 
 affairs, I am so busy with looking after yours." 
 
 " Well, but now you are reminded of them, Lionel, you 
 had better give me the money, and I will send it to him." 
 
 At this moment Lady R stooped from her chair to 
 
 pick up her handkerchief. There were some sovereigns 
 lying on the desk, and the lad, winking his eye at me, took 
 
Valerie 85 
 
 one up, and, as Lady R rose up, held it out to her 
 
 in silence. 
 
 "That's right, Lionel," said Lady R ; *'I like 
 
 honesty." 
 
 " Yes, madame," replied the impudent rogue, very 
 demurely; "like most people who tell their own stories, 
 I was born of honest, but poor parents." 
 
 " I believe your parents were honest ; and now, Lionel, 
 to reward you, I shall pay for your boots, and you may 
 keep your sovereign." 
 
 " Thank your ladyship," replied the lad. *^ I forgot to 
 say that the cook is outside for orders." 
 
 Lady R rose, and went out of the room ; and Mr 
 
 Lionel, laughing at me, put the sovereign down with the 
 others. 
 
 " Now, I call that real honesty. You saw me borrow 
 it, and now you see me pay it." 
 
 " Yes ; but suppose her ladyship had not given you the 
 sovereign, how would it have been then ? " said L 
 
 " I should have paid her very honestly," replied he. 
 ** If I wished to cheat her, or rob her, I might do so all 
 day long. She leaves her money about everywhere, and 
 never knows what she has ; besides, if I wanted to steal, 
 I should not do so with those bright eyes of yours looking 
 at me all the time." 
 
 " You are a very saucy boy," replied I, more amused 
 than angry. 
 
 "It's all from reading, and it's not my fault, for her 
 ladyship makes me read, and I never yet read any book 
 about old times in which the pages were not saucy , but 
 I've no time to talk just now — my spoons are not clean 
 yet," so saying he quitted the room. 
 
 I did not know whether I ought to inform her ladyship 
 of this freak of her page's ; but, as the money was re- 
 turned, I thought I had better say nothing for the present. 
 I soon found out that the lad was correct in asserting that 
 she was careless of her money, and that, if he chose, he 
 might pilfer without chance of discovery ; and, moreover. 
 
86 Valerie 
 
 that he really was a good and honest lad, only full of 
 mischief and very impudent ; owing, however, to Lady 
 
 R 's treatment of him, for she rather encouraged his 
 
 impudence than otherwise. He was certainly a very clever, 
 witty boy, and a very quick servant ; so quick, indeed, at 
 his work, that it almost appeared as if he never had any- 
 thing to do, and he had plenty of time for reading, which 
 he was very fond of. 
 
 Lady R returned, and resumed her writing. 
 
 ** You sing, do you not ? I think Mrs Bathurst told me 
 you were very harmonious. Now, Valerie, do me a 
 favour : I want to hear a voice carolling some melodious 
 ditty. I shall describe it so much better, if I really heard 
 you sing. I do like reality ; of course, you must sing 
 without music, for my country girl cannot be crossing the 
 mead with a piano in one hand, and a pail of water in the 
 other." 
 
 ** I should think not," replied I, laughing ; '* but am not 
 I too near ? " 
 
 " Yes, rather ; I should prefer it on the stairs, or on the 
 first floor landing ; but I could not be so rude as to send 
 you out of the room." 
 
 " But I will go without sending," replied I ; and I did 
 so, and having arrived at my station, I sang a little French 
 refrain, which I thought would answer her ladyship's 
 purpose. On my return her ladyship was writing furiously, 
 and did not appear to notice my entrance. I took my seat 
 quietly, and in about ten minutes she again threw down 
 the pen, exclaiming : 
 
 " I never wrote so effective a chapter ! Valerie, you are 
 more precious to me than fine gold ; and as Shylock said 
 of his ring, * I would not change thee for a wilderness of 
 monkeys.' I make the quotation as expressive of your 
 value. It was so kind-hearted of you to comply with my 
 wish. You don't know an author's feelings. You have 
 no idea how our self-love is flattered by success, and that 
 we value a good passage in our works more than anything 
 else in existence. Now, you have so kindly administered 
 
Valerie 87 
 
 to my ruling passion twice in one morning, that I love you 
 exceedingly. I daresay you think me very odd, and 
 people say that I am so ; I may ask you to do many odd 
 things for me, but I shall never ask you to do what a 
 lady may not do, or what would be incorrect for you to 
 do, or for me to propose ; that you may depend upon, 
 Valerie : and now I close my manuscript for the present, 
 being well satisfied with the day's work." 
 
 Lady R rang the bell, and on Lionel making his 
 
 appearance, she desired him to take away her writing 
 materials, put her money into her purse — if he knew where 
 the purse was — and then asked him what were her engage- 
 ments for the evening. 
 
 " I know ive have an engagement," replied the boy -, *' I 
 can't recollect it, but I shall find it in the drawing-room." 
 
 He went out, and in a minute returned. 
 
 **I have found it, my lady," said he. "Here's the 
 ticket ; Mrs Allwood, at home, nine o'clock." 
 
 " Mrs Allwood, my dear Valerie, is a literary lady, and 
 her parties are very agreeable." 
 
 The page looked at me from behind Lady R 's 
 
 chair, and shook his head in dissent. 
 
 " Shall we go ? " continued Lady R . 
 
 ** If you please, madame," replied L 
 
 " Well, then, we will take a drive before dinner, and 
 the evening after dinner shall be dedicated to the feast of 
 reason and the flow of soul. Dear me, how I have inked 
 my fingers, I must go upstairs and wash them." 
 
 As soon as Lady R left the room. Master Lionel 
 
 began. 
 
 " Feast of reason and flow of soul ; I don't like such 
 entertainment. Give me a good supper and plenty of 
 champagne." 
 
 " Why, what matter can it make to you ? " said I, 
 laughing. 
 
 " It matters a good deal. I object to literary parties," 
 replied he. *'In the first place, for one respectable 
 carriage driving up to the door, there are twenty cabs and 
 
88 Valerie 
 
 jarveys, so that the company isn't so good ; and then at 
 parties, when there is a good supper, I get my share of it 
 in the kitchen. You don't think we are idle down below. 
 I have been to Mrs AUwood's twice, and there's no supper, 
 nothing but feast of reason, which remains upstairs, and 
 they're welcome to my share of it. As for the drink, it's 
 negus and cherry-water ; nothing else, and if the flow of 
 soul is not better than such stuff, they may have my share 
 of that also. No music, no dancing, nothing but buzz, 
 buzz, buzz. "Won't you feel it stupid ! " 
 
 " Why, one would think you had been upstairs instead 
 of down, Lionel." 
 
 " Of course I am. They press all who have liveries 
 into the service, and I hand the cakes about rather than 
 kick for hours at the legs of the kitchen-table. I hear all 
 that's said just as well as the company, and I've often 
 thought I could have given a better answer than I've 
 heard some of your great literaries. When I hand the 
 cakes to-night, take them I point out to you : they'll be 
 the best." 
 
 " Why, how can you tell ? " 
 
 " Because I try them all before I come in the room." 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed to acknowledge it." 
 
 " All comes of reading, miss," replied he. " I read that 
 in former times great people, kings and princes and so on, 
 always had their victuals tasted first, lest there should be 
 poison in them : so I taste upon that principle, and I have 
 been half-poisoned sometimes at these cheap parties, but 
 I'm getting cunning, and when I meet a suspicious-looking 
 piece of pastry, I leave it for the company ; but I can't 
 wait to talk any longer, miss, I must give coachman his 
 orders." 
 
 "I never asked you to talk, Mr Lionel," said I. 
 
 " No, you didn't, but still I know you like to hear me : 
 you can't deny that. Now to use my lady's style, I am to 
 tell the coachman to put a girdle round the park in forty 
 minutes ; " so saying, the lad vanished, as he usually did, 
 in a second. 
 
Valerie 89 
 
 The lad was certainly right when he said that I did 
 like to hear him talk, for he amused me so much, that I 
 forgave his impudence and familiarity. Shortly after- 
 wards, we went out in the carriage, and having driven 
 two or three times round the park, returned home to 
 dinner. At ten o'clock, we went to Mrs AUwood's party. 
 I was introduced to a great many great literary stars, 
 whom I had never before heard of ; but the person who 
 attracted the most attention was a Russian Count, who 
 had had his ears and nose cut off by the Turks. It 
 certainly did not add to his beauty, however it might 
 have to his interest. However, Lionel was right. It 
 was a very stupid party to me : all talking at once and 
 constantly on the move to find fresh listeners ; it ivas all 
 buzz, buzz, buzz, and I was glad when the carriage was 
 announced. Such were the events of the first day which 
 I passed under the roof of Lady R . 
 
 Indeed, this first day may be taken as a sample of most 
 others, and a month passed rapidly away. Each day, how- 
 ever, was marked with some peculiar eccentricity on her 
 part, but these diverted me. I was often requested to do 
 strange things in my position as a model, but with all her 
 
 oddities Lady R was a gentlewoman in manner and in 
 
 feeling, and what I should certainly have refused to anyone 
 else, I did for her without reluctance. I now called her 
 Sempronia, as she requested, and, moreover, I became very 
 intimate with Master Lionel, who would be intimate, 
 
 whether or no, and who, hke Lady R , was a source 
 
 of great amusement. At times, when I was alone and 
 communed with myself, I could not help surveying my 
 peculiar position. I was engaged at a large salary — for 
 what ? to look handsome, to put myself in attitudes, and 
 to do nothing. This was not flattering to my talents (such 
 as I had), but still I was treated with kindness and confid- 
 ence 5 was the companion of her ladyship ; was introduced 
 and taken to all the parties to which she was asked, and 
 never made to feel my dependence. I had already 
 imbibed a strong friendship for Lady R , and I was. 
 
90 Valerie 
 
 therefore, content to remain. One morning she said to 
 me, 
 
 " My dear Valerie, do me the favour to tighten the laces 
 of my stays." 
 
 She was, as usual, writing in her dressing-gown. 
 
 " Oh, tighter yet ; as tight as you can draw them. 
 That will do nicely." 
 
 **Why you can hardly breathe, Sempronia." 
 
 **But 1 can write, my dear child, and, as I before 
 observed, the mind and the body influence each other. I 
 am about to write a strictly moral dialogue, and I never 
 could do it unless I am strait-laced. Now I feel fit for the 
 wife of Cato and of Rome." 
 
 A few days afterwards she amused me still more. After 
 writing about half-an-hour, she threw down her pen — 
 
 " I never can do it ; come upstairs, my dear Valerie, 
 and help me off with my stays. I must be a V abandon,^'' 
 
 I followed her, and having removed these impediments 
 we returned to the boudoir. 
 
 " There," said she, sitting down, " I think I shall manage 
 it now : I feel as if I could." 
 
 " Manage what ? " inquired I. 
 
 ** My dear, I am about to write a love scene, very warm 
 and impassioned, and I could not do it, confined as I was. 
 Now that I am loose, I can give loose to the reins of my 
 imagination, and delineate with the arrow of Cupid's self. 
 My heroine is reclining, with her hand on her cheek ; put 
 yourself in that attitude, my dear dear Valerie, as if you 
 were meditating upon the prolonged absence of one dear 
 to you. Exactly — beautiful — true to nature — but I forgot, 
 a page enters — don't move, I'll ring the bell." 
 
 Lionel answered quickly, as usual. 
 
 " Here, Lionel, I want you to play the page." 
 
 " I've no time for play, my lady ; I'm page in earnest. 
 There's all the knives to clean." 
 
 "Never mind the knives just now. Observe, Lionel, 
 you are supposed to be sent a message to that lovely girl, 
 who is sitting absorbed in a soft reverie. You enter her 
 
Valerie 9 1 
 
 presence unperceived, and are struck with her beauty ; you 
 lean against a tree, in a careless but graceful attitude, with 
 your eyes fixed upon her lovely features. Now lean 
 against the door, as I have described, and then I shall be 
 able to write." 
 
 I could not help smiling at the absurdity of this scene, 
 the more so as Lionel, just passing his fingers through 
 his hair, and then pulling up his shirt collar, took his 
 position, saying, 
 
 ** Now, Miss Valerie, we'll see who performs best : 
 I think you will be sooner tired of sitting than I shall be 
 of looking at you." 
 
 "Excellent, Lionel! — exactly the position that I wished," 
 
 said Lady R , scribbling as fast as she could ; " that 
 
 stare of yours is true to nature — Cymon and Iphigenia — 
 a perfect tableau ! — don't move, I beg ; I only require 
 ten minutes." 
 
 I looked up at Master Lionel, and he made such a 
 grimace, that I could hardly keep my countenance, and I 
 did not exactly feel satisfied at thus performing, as it 
 were, with a servant ; but still, that servant was Lionel, 
 who was very unlike other servants. In ten minutes, as 
 promised, we were released, much to my satisfaction. 
 Lionel went off to clean his knives, and I took up my 
 book, and really when I perceived the delight of Lady 
 
 R- , at what she called her success, I no longer felt 
 
 anything like annoyance at having complied with her 
 wishes. 
 
 One morning, when Lady R had walked out, and 
 
 the page Lionel was in the room, I entered into conversa- 
 tion with him, and asked how it was that he had been so 
 much better educated than were lads in his position in 
 general ? 
 
 " That's a question that I often ask myself. Miss 
 Valerie," replied he, " as they say in some autobio- 
 graphies. The first recollection I have of myself was 
 finding myself walking two-and-two, in a suit of pepper- 
 and-salt, along with about twenty other very little boys. 
 
92 Valerie 
 
 at a cheap preparatory school, kept by the Misses Wiggins. 
 There I remained — nobody came to see me ; other boys 
 talked of their papas and mammas — I had none to talk 
 about : they went home at the holidays, and brought 
 back toys and plumcakes 5 I enjoyed my holidays alone, 
 scraping holes in the gravel, for want of better employ- 
 ment, between my meals, and perhaps not opening my 
 mouth, or hearing the sound of my own voice, more than 
 three or four times in the twenty-four hours. As I had 
 plenty of time for reflection during the vacations, as I 
 grew bigger I began to imagine that somehow or another 
 I must have had a father and mother, like the other boys, 
 and began to make very impertinent (as I was told) 
 inquiries about them. The Misses Wiggins gave me a 
 good wigging, as they call it, for my unwarranted 
 curiosity, pointing out the indelicacy of entering upon 
 such subjects, and thus was my mouth stopped. 
 
 At last I grew up too big for the school, and was not 
 to be managed by two old maids, and I presume it was 
 through their representations that I was at last honoured 
 by a visit from an old housekeeper, a woman above fifty, 
 whom I never saw before. I ventured to put the for- 
 bidden questions to her, and she replied that I had neither 
 father nor mother, that they were both dead, and that I 
 was educated by the kindness of a great lady, whose 
 dependents they had been, and that the great lady would 
 call and see me perhaps, or if she did not, would send for 
 me and do something for me. Well, about four years ago 
 (I was then twelve years old, I was told, but my idea is 
 that I am older than they say), I was sent for by Lady 
 
 R , and at first I was dressed in a turban and red 
 
 jacket, and sat on the floor. I was told that I was to be 
 her page, and I liked it very much, as I did nothing but 
 run messages and read books, which I was very fond of j 
 
 and Lady R took some pains with me ; but as I grew 
 
 bigger, so did I fall ofl" from my high estate, and by 
 degrees descended from the drawing-room to the kitchen. 
 
 " My finery was not renewed j at first I had a plain 
 
Valerie 93 
 
 suit and did my work under the footman, and two years 
 ago, when the footman was sent away, rather than be 
 under the orders of another, I volunteered to do the work, 
 which I have done ever since, and now receive high wages, 
 and wear sugar-loaf buttons, as you perceive. Now, Miss 
 Valerie, that's all I know of myself; but I suspect that 
 
 Lady R knows more ; still it may be that what the 
 
 old woman told me was correct, and that I was the child 
 of one of her favourite dependents, and was educated by 
 her in the manner that I was, for you know how many 
 odd things she does." 
 
 ** What is your other name, Lionel ? " 
 
 **Bedingfield, I am told, is my name," replied he. 
 
 ** Have you ever spoken to Lady R ," inquired I,. 
 
 relative to your parents ? " 
 
 **I once did; but she said they were Sir Richard's 
 people, not hers (that is, her father's, the late baronet's), 
 and that she knew nothing about them, except that my 
 father was a steward or bailiff to him in the country, and 
 that he had left directions that she should do something 
 for me. Her ladyship did not appear to be inclined to 
 talk about them much, and sent me away as soon as she 
 had told me what I now repeat to you ; however, I have 
 found out something since that — but there's her ladyship's 
 knock " — so saying, Lionel vanished. 
 
 Soon after her ladyship's return, Madame Gironac, wha 
 had called upon me two or three times, was announced. 
 I went out of the room, and when I met her in the dining- 
 parlour, she told me that she had brought some of her 
 imitations of flowers on wax, to show them to her lady- 
 ship. I immediately went up, and asked Lady R if 
 
 she would like to see them, to which proposal she assented. 
 When Madame Gironac displayed her performances, which 
 were very natural and beautiful, her ladyship was delighted,, 
 and purchased several of them, after which I again went 
 downstairs, and had a long conversation with my warm- 
 hearted little friend. 
 
 " I don't like this situation of yours, mademoiselle," 
 
94 
 
 Valerie 
 
 said she, " nor does my husband. Now I was thinking, 
 Mademoiselle de Chatenosuf, that it would not be a bad 
 plan if you were to learn how to make those flowers. I 
 will teach you for nothing ; and I will teach you what I 
 never teach my pupils, which is how to prepare the wax, 
 and a great many other little secrets which are worth 
 knowing." 
 
 " I shall be very glad to learn, my dear madame," 
 replied I, " but I can afford to pay you for your time and 
 trouble, and must insist upon doing so ; if not, I will not 
 be your pupil." 
 
 " Well, well, we must not quarrel about that. I know 
 that no one likes to be under an obligation, especially one 
 like you — but learn you must — so let us arrange for the 
 lessons." 
 
 I did so •, and from that day until I quitted Lady R 
 
 I applied myself so assiduously to the art, that, with the 
 unreserved communications of Madame Gironac, I became 
 a proficient, and could equal her own performances — 
 Madame Gironac declared that I excelled her, because I 
 had more taste — but to return. 
 
 After I had parted with Madame Gironac, I went upstairs, 
 
 and found Lady R sitting at the table, looking at the 
 
 purchases she had made. 
 
 " My dear Valerie," cried she, " you don't know how 
 you have obliged me by introducing that little woman and 
 her flowers. What a delightful and elegant employment 
 for a heroine to undertake — so lady-like ! I have determined 
 that mine shall support herself by imitating flowers in wax. 
 I am just at the point of placing her in embarrassed circum- 
 stances, and did not well know how she was to gain her 
 livelihood, but, thanks to you, that is selected, and in a 
 most charming and satisfactory manner. It is so hard to 
 associate poverty with clean hands." 
 
 About a fortnight afterwards, after some other conversa- 
 tion, Lady R said, 
 
 *' My dear Valerie, I have a surprise for you. The 
 season is nearly over, and, what is more important, my 
 
Valerie 95 
 
 third volume will be complete in a fortnight. Last night as I 
 was wooing Somnus in vain, an idea came into my head. 
 I proposed going to pass the autumn at Brighton, as you 
 know, but last night I made up my mind that we would go 
 over the water ; but whether it is to be Havre, or Dieppe, or 
 Paris, or anywhere else I cannot say, but certainly La Belle 
 France. How do you like the idea ? I think of making a sort 
 of sentimental journey. "We will seek adventures. Shall we 
 go like Rosamond and Celia ? I with ' gallant curtal axe,' 
 dressed as a youth. Shall we be mad, Valerie ? What 
 say you ? " 
 
 I hardly knew what to say. Lady R— — appeared to 
 have a most unusual freak in her head, and to be a little 
 more odd than usual. Now I had no wish to go to France, 
 as I might fall in with people whom I did not wish to see ; 
 and moreover, from what I had heard of her ladyship's 
 adventures in Italy, I was convinced that she was one of 
 many, I may say, who fancy that they may do as they 
 please out of their own country, and I certainly did not 
 wish to figure in her train -, I therefore replied, 
 
 ** I know my own country well. Lady R , and there 
 
 cannot be a less eligible one for a masquerade. We 
 should meet with too many desagremens, if unprotected 
 by male society, and our journey would be anything but 
 sentimental. But if you do go to France, does Lionel 
 accompany you ? " 
 
 " Well, I do not know, but I should like him to learn 
 the language. I think I shall take him. He is a clever 
 boy." 
 
 " Very," replied I ; " where did you pick him up ? " 
 
 "He is a son of my late father's " — (' a son of — ' 
 exclaimed I) — " tenant, or something I was going to say," 
 
 continued Lady R , colouring ; "but I could not 
 
 recollect exactly what the man was. Bailiff, I think. I 
 know nothing about his father, but he was recommended 
 to me by Sir Richard before he died." 
 
 " Recommended as a servant ? " replied I ; "he appears 
 to me to be too good for so menial a position." 
 
96 Valerie 
 
 " I have made him above his position, Valerie ; not that 
 he was recommended as a servant, but recommended to 
 my care. Perhaps some day I may be able to do more 
 
 for him. You know that we are to go to Lady G 's 
 
 ball to-night. It will be a very brilliant affair. She 
 gives but one during the season, and she always does the 
 thing in good style. Bless me, how late it is ! The 
 carriage will be round in two minutes ; I've a round of 
 visits to pay." 
 
 " Will you excuse me ? I have promised to take a 
 lesson of Madame Gironac." 
 
 " Very true ; then I must enter upon my melancholy 
 task alone. What can be so absurd as a rational and 
 immortal soul going about distributing pasteboard ! " 
 
 We went to Lady G 's ball, which was very 
 
 splendid. I had been dancing, for although I was not 
 considered probably good enough among the young 
 aristocrats to be made a partner for life, as a partner in 
 a waltz or quadrille I was rather in request, for the odium 
 of governess had not yet been attached to my name, having 
 never figured in that capacity in the metropolis, where 
 I was unknown. I had but a short time taken my seat 
 
 by Lady R , when the latter sprang off in a great 
 
 hurry, after what I could not tell, and her place was 
 immediately occupied by a lady, who I immediately 
 recognised as a Lady M — ■ — , who had, with her 
 daughters, composed a portion of the company at Madame 
 Bathurst's country seat. 
 
 *' Have you forgotten me. Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf?" 
 said Lady M , extending her hand. 
 
 " No, my lady, I am glad to see you looking so well. 
 I hope your daughters are also quite well ? " 
 
 ^' Thank you ; they look very well in the evening, but 
 rather pale in the morning. It is a terrible thing a London 
 season, very trying to the constitution, but what can we 
 do ? We must be out and be seen everywhere, or we 
 lose caste — so many balls and parties every night. The 
 fact is, that if girls are not married during the three first 
 
Valerie 97 
 
 seasons after they come out, their chance is almost hope- 
 less, for all the freshness and charm of youth, which are 
 so appetising to the other sex, are almost gone. No con- 
 stitution can withstand the fatigue. I've often compared 
 our young ladies to the carriage horses — they are both 
 worked to death during the season, and then turned out 
 to grass in the country to recover themselves, and come 
 up fresh for the next winter. It really is a horrible life, 
 but girls must be got off. I wish mine were, for what 
 with fatigue and anxiety I'm worn to a shadow. Come, 
 Mademoiselle de Chatenceuf, let us go into the next room. 
 It is cooler, and we shall be more quiet ; take my arm : 
 perhaps we shall meet the girls." 
 
 I accepted her ladyship's invitation, and we went into 
 the next room, and took a seat upon a sofa in a recess. 
 
 ** Here we can talk without being overheard," said Lady 
 
 M ; " and now, my dear young lady, I know that 
 
 you have left Madame Bathurst, but why I do not know. 
 Is it a secret ? " 
 
 " No, my lady ; when Caroline went away I was of no 
 further use, and therefore I did not wish to remain. You 
 may perhaps know that I went to Madame Bathurst's on a 
 visit, and that an unforeseen change of circumstances 
 induced me to remain for some time as instructress to her 
 niece." 
 
 " I heard something of that sort, a kind of friendly 
 arrangement, at which Madame Bathurst had good cause 
 to be content. I'm sure I should have been, had I been 
 
 so fortunate ; and now you are residing with Lady R -, 
 
 may I inquire, without presuming too much, in what 
 capacity you are with Lady R ." 
 
 "I went there as an amanuensis, but I have never 
 
 written a line. Lady R is pleased to consider me as a 
 
 companion, and I must say that she has behaved to me 
 with great kindness and consideration." 
 
 "I have no doubt of it," replied Lady M — — ; ** but 
 still it appears to me (excuse the liberty I take, or ascribe 
 it to a feeling of goodwill), that your position with Lady 
 
98 Valerie 
 
 R is not quite what those who have an interest in you 
 
 would wish. Everyone knows how odd she is, to say the 
 least of it, and you may not be perhaps aware, that 
 occasionally her tongue outruns her discretion. In your 
 presence she of course is on her guard, for she is really 
 good-natured, and would not willingly offend anyone or 
 hurt their feelings, but when led away by her desire to 
 shine in company, she is very indiscreet. I have been 
 
 told that at Mrs W 's dinner-party the other day, to 
 
 which you were not invited, on your name being brought 
 up, she called you her charming model, I think was the 
 phrase ; and on an explanation being demanded of the 
 term, she said you stood for her heroines, putting yourself 
 in postures and positions while she drew from nature, as 
 she termed it ; and that, moreover, on being complimented 
 on the idea, and some of the young men offering, or rather 
 intimating, that they would be delighted to stand or kneel 
 at your feet, as the hero of the tale, she replied that she 
 had no occasion for their services, as she had a page or 
 footman, I forget which, who did that portion of the 
 work. Surely this cannot be true, my dear Mademoiselle 
 de Chatenoeuf ? " 
 
 Oh ! how my blood boiled when I heard this. 
 
 How far it was true, the reader already knows •, but 
 
 the manner in which it was conveyed by Lady M , 
 
 quite horrified me. I coloured up to the temples, and 
 replied, 
 
 " Lady M , that Lady R has very often, when 
 
 I have been sitting, and she has been writing, told me that 
 she was taking me as a model for her heroine, is very 
 true, but I have considered it as a mere whim of hers, 
 knowing how very eccentric she is. I little thought from 
 my having good-naturedly yielded to her caprice, that I 
 should have been so mortified as I have been by what you 
 have communicated to me. That she must have been 
 indiscreet, is certain, for it was known only to herself and 
 me." 
 
 " And the footman." 
 
Valerie 99 
 
 " Footman, my lady ? There is a boy — a sort of page 
 there." 
 
 " Exactly ; a lad of fifteen or sixteen, a precocious, pert 
 
 boy, who is much indulged by Lady R , and, if report 
 
 says true, is nearer related to her than she is willing 
 to acknowledge. Did you never observe that there is a 
 strong likeness ? " 
 
 " Good heavens, my lady, you surprise me." 
 
 '* And, I fear, have also annoyed you; but," continued 
 
 Lady M , laying her hand on mine, "I thought it 
 
 kinder to let you know your peculiar position than to sneer 
 and ridicule, as others do, behind your back. This is a 
 sad world in one respect ; if there is any scandal or false 
 report spread against us, it is known to everyone but our- 
 selves. We cannot find, but rarely, a friend who is so 
 really our friend as to tell us of it. The poison is allowed 
 to circulate without the power being given to us of apply- 
 ing an antidote — so hollow is friendship in this world. 
 My dear mademoiselle, I have done otherwise ; whether 
 you thank me for it or not, I cannot tell ; perhaps not, for 
 those who communicate unpleasant intelligence, are seldom 
 looked kindly upon." 
 
 " Lady M ," replied I, "I do thank you most 
 
 heartily. I do consider that you have acted a friendly 
 part. That I have been dreadfully shocked and mortified, 
 I admit," continued I, wiping away the tears that forced 
 their passage; **but I shall not give an opportunity for 
 future unjust insinuations or remarks, as I have made up 
 my mind that I shall leave Lady R as soon as possible." 
 
 " My dear mademoiselle, I did not venture to make you 
 acquainted with what I knew would, to a person of your 
 sensitive mind, be the cause of your quitting the protection 
 
 of Lady R without having considered whether an 
 
 equivalent could not be offered to you ; and I am happy to 
 say that I can offer you a home, and I trust comfort and 
 consideration, if you will accept of them. The fact is, 
 that had I known that you had any idea of quitting 
 Madame Bathurst, I should have made the offer then — 
 
loo Valerie 
 
 now I do so with all sincerity ; — but at present you are 
 agitated and annoyed, and I will say no more. If I send 
 the carriage for you to-morrow at two o'clock, will you do 
 me the favour to come and see me ? I would call upon 
 
 you, but of course the presence of Lady R ■ would be 
 
 a check to our free converse. Say, my dear, will you 
 come ? " 
 
 I replied in the affirmative, and Lady M then rose, 
 
 and giving me her arm, we walked back to the bench 
 
 which I had left, where I found Lady R in a hot 
 
 dispute with a member of Parliament. I sat down by her 
 
 unnoticed, and Lady M having smiled an adieu, I was 
 
 left to my own reflections, which were anything but 
 agreeable. My head ached dreadfully, and I looked so ill 
 
 that Lady R 's warm antagonist perceived it, and 
 
 pointed it out to her, saying, 
 
 " Your protegee is not well, I fear. Lady R ." 
 
 I replied to Lady R , " that I had a violent head- 
 ache, and wished to get home if it were possible." 
 
 She immediately consented, and showed great concern. 
 As soon as we were home, I need hardly say, that I 
 hastened to my room. 
 
 I sat down and pressed my forehead with my hands : my 
 knowledge of the world was increasing too fast. I began 
 to hate it — hate men, and women even more than men. 
 What lessons had I learnt within the last year. First 
 Madame d'Albret, then Madame Bathurst, and now Lady 
 
 R . Was there no such thing as friendship in the 
 
 world — no such thing as generosity ? In my excited state 
 it appeared to me that there was not. All was false and 
 hollow. Self was the idol of mankind, and all worshipped 
 at its altar. After a time I became more composed, I 
 thought of little Madame Gironac, and the recollection of 
 her disinterested kindness put me in a better frame of mind. 
 Mortified as I was, I could not help feeling that it was only 
 
 the vanity of Lady R and her desire to shine, to which 
 
 I had been made a sacrifice, and that she had no intention 
 of wounding my feelings. Still, to remain with her after 
 
Valerie loi 
 
 what had been told to me by Lady M— — was impossible. 
 And then I reflected upon what steps I should take. I 
 
 did not like to tell Lady R the real grounds of my 
 
 leaving her. I thought it would be prudent to make some 
 excuse and part good friends. At last it occurred to me 
 that her intention of going to France would be a good 
 excuse. I could tell her that I was afraid of meeting my 
 relatives. 
 
 Having decided upon this point, I then canvassed the 
 
 words of Lady M . What could she offer me in her 
 
 house ? She had three daughters, but they were all out, 
 as the phrase is, and their education supposed to be com- 
 pleted. This was a mystery I could not solve, and I was 
 obliged to give up thinking about it, and at last I fell 
 asleep. The next moment I woke up, jaded in mind, and 
 with a bad headache, but I dressed and went down to 
 
 breakfast. Lady R asked after my health, and then 
 
 said, 
 
 ** I observed you talking very confidentially with Lady 
 
 M . I was not aware that you knew her. Between 
 
 ourselves, Valerie, she is one of my models." 
 
 "Indeed," replied I, **I do not think that her ladyship 
 is aware of the honour conferred upon her." 
 
 " Very likely not, but in the last work she was por- 
 trayed to the life. Lady M is a schemer, always 
 
 plotting ; her great object now is to get her three 
 daughters well married." 
 
 " I believe that most mothers wish that. Lady 
 R ." 
 
 " I grant it, and perhaps manoeuvre as much, but with 
 more skill than she does, for every one sees the game 
 that she is playing, and the consequence is, that the 
 young men shy off, which they probably would not if 
 she were quiet, for they are really clever, unaffected, 
 and natural girls, very obliging, and without any 
 pride ; but how came you to be so intimate with Lady 
 M ? " 
 
 " Lady M and her eldest daughter were staying 
 
I02 Valerie 
 
 for some time with Madame Bathurst in the country when 
 I was there." 
 
 ** Oh, I understand, that accounts for it." 
 
 " I am going to call upon Lady M , if she sends 
 
 her carriage for me," replied I. " She told me that she 
 would, if she could, at two o'clock. She has proposed 
 my paying her a visit ; I presume it will be after she 
 leaves town." 
 
 " But that you will not be able to do, Valerie ; you 
 forget our trip to France." 
 
 " I did not think that you were serious," replied I ; 
 "you mentioned it as the resolution of a night, and I 
 did not know that you might not think differently upon 
 further consideration." 
 
 " Oh no, my resolutions are hastily formed, but not 
 often given up. Go to Paris we certainly shall." 
 
 " If you are determined upon going, Lady R , I am 
 
 afraid that I cannot accompany you." 
 
 ** Indeed ! " exclaimed her ladyship, in surprise. *' May 
 I ask why not ? " 
 
 " Simply because I might meet, those I am most anxious 
 to avoid ; there is a portion of my history that you are 
 
 not acquainted with, Lady R , which I will now make 
 
 known to you." 
 
 I then told her as much as I thought necessary relative 
 to my parents, and stated my determination not to run the 
 
 risk of meeting them. Lady R argued, persuaded, 
 
 coaxed, and scolded, but it was all in vain ; at last she 
 became seriously angry, and left the room. Lionel soon 
 afterwards made his appearance, and said to me, in his 
 usual familiar way, 
 
 ** What's the matter. Miss Valerie ? The governess is 
 in a rage about something ; she gave me a box on the 
 ear." 
 
 " I suppose you deserved it, Lionel," replied I. 
 
 ** Well, there may be differences of opinion about that," 
 replied the boy. "She went on scolding me at such a 
 rate that I was quite astonished, and all about nothing. 
 
Valerie 103 
 
 She blew up cook — didn't she — blew her half up the 
 chimney — and then she was at me again. At last I could 
 bear it no longer, and I said, * Don't flare up, my lady.' " 
 
 ** * Don't my lady me,' cried she, * or I'll box your 
 ears.' " 
 
 " Well, then, as she is always angry if you call her my 
 lady, I thought she was angry with me for the same 
 reason, so I said, * Sempronia, keep your temper,' — and 
 didn't I get a box on the ear." 
 
 I could not help laughing at this recital of his cool 
 impudence, the more so as he narrated it with such an air 
 of injured innocence. 
 
 ** Indeed, Lionel," said I at last, " you well deserved 
 the box on the ear. If you ever quit the service of Lady 
 
 R , you will find that you must behave with proper 
 
 respect to those above you ; if not, you will not remain an 
 
 hour in any other house. Lady R is very odd and 
 
 very good-tempered, and permits more liberties than any 
 other person would. I will, however, tell you why Lady 
 
 R is displeased. It is because she wishes me to go 
 
 to France with her and I have refused." 
 
 " Then you are going to leave us?" inquired Lionel, 
 mournfully. 
 
 *' I suppose so," replied I. 
 
 " Then I shall go, too," said the boy. ** I'm tired of it." 
 
 " But why should you go, Lionel ? You may not find 
 another situation half so comfortable." 
 
 " I shall not seek one. I have only stayed here with 
 the hope that I may find out from her ladyship who and 
 what my parents were, and she will not tell me. I shall 
 live by my wits, never fear ; * the world's my oster,' as 
 Shakespeare says, and I think I've wit enough to open it." 
 
 I had not forgotten the observations of Lady M— — 
 relative to Lionel, and what the lad now said made me 
 surmise that there was some mystery, and, on examination 
 of his countenance, there ivas a family likeness to Lady 
 
 R . I also called to mind her unwillingness to enter 
 
 upon the subject when I brought it up. 
 
T 04 Valerie 
 
 " But, Lionel," said I, after a pause, " what is it that 
 
 makes you suppose that Lady R conceals who were 
 
 your parents — when we last talked on the subject, you 
 said you had found out something — she told me that your 
 father was a bailiff, or steward to Sir Richard." 
 
 *' Which I have proved to be false. She told me that 
 my father was Sir Richard's butler ; that I have also 
 discovered to be false, for one day the old housekeeper, 
 who called upon me at school, came here, and was 
 
 closeted with Lady R for half-an-hour. When she 
 
 went away, I called a hackney-coach for her, and getting 
 behind it, went home with her to her lodgings. When 
 I found out where she lived, I hastened back immediately 
 that I might not be missed, intending to have made a 
 
 call upon her. The next day Lady R gave me a 
 
 letter to put in the twopenny-post ; it was directed to 
 a Mrs Green, to the very house where the hackney-coach 
 had stopped, so I knew it was for the old housekeeper. 
 Instead of putting the letter in the post, I kept it till the 
 evening, and then took it myself. 
 
 " * Mrs Green,' said I, for I found her at home with 
 another old woman, sitting over their tea, * I have brought 
 
 you a letter from Lady R .' This is about a year 
 
 ago. Miss Valerie. 
 
 ** * Mercy on me,' said she, ' how strange that Lady 
 R — — should send you here.' 
 
 ***Not strange that she should send a letter by a 
 servant,' said I, * only strange that I should be a servant.' 
 
 ** I said this. Miss Valerie, as a random throw, just to 
 see what answer she would make. 
 
 ** * Why, who has been telling you anything ? ' said she, 
 looking at me through her spectacles. 
 
 " ' Ah,' replied I, * that's what I must keep to myself, 
 for I'm under a promise of secrecy.' 
 
 " * Mercy on me, it couldn't be — no, that's impossible,' 
 muttered the old woman, as she opened the letter and took 
 out a bank-note, which she crumpled up in her hand. She 
 then commenced reading the letter ; I walked a little way 
 
Valerie 105 
 
 from her, and stood between her and the window. Every 
 now and then she held the letter up to the candle, and 
 when the light was strong upon it, I could read a line from 
 where I stood, for I have been used to her ladyship's writ- 
 ing, as you know. One line I read was, * remains still at 
 Culverwood Hall ; ' another was, * the only person now 
 left in Essex.' I also saw the words * secrecy ' and 
 * ignorant ' at the bottom of the page. The old woman 
 finished the letter at last, but it took her a good while to 
 get through it. 
 
 '* * Well,' says she, * have you anything more to say ? ' 
 
 " * No,' says I; * you are well paid for your secrecy, 
 Mrs Green.' 
 
 " ' What do you mean ? ' said she. 
 
 " * Oh, I'm not quite so ignorant as you suppose,' 
 replied I. 
 
 " ' Ignorant,' said she, confused, * ignorant of what ? ' 
 
 " ' When were you last in Essex ? ' said I. 
 
 " * When, why ? what's that to you, you impudent 
 boy .? ' 
 
 **'Nay, then, I'll put another question to you. How 
 long is it since you were at Culverwood Hall ? ' 
 
 " ' Culverwood Hall ! What do you know about 
 Culverwood Hall ? the boy's mad, I believe ; go away, 
 you've done your message ; if you don't, I'll tell her lady- 
 ship.' 
 
 " 'Certainly, Mrs Green,' said I. * I wish you a good- 
 night.' 
 
 " I left the room, slamming the door, but not allowing 
 the catch to fall in, so that I held it a little ajar, and then 
 I heard Mrs Green say to the other woman, 
 
 ** * Somebody's been with that boy ; I wonder who it 
 can be ? He's put me in such a flurry. Well, these 
 things will out.' 
 
 " * Yes, yes, it's like murder,' replied the other ; * not 
 that I know what it's all about, only I see there's a secret 
 ■ — perhaps you'll tell me, Mrs Green ? ' 
 
 " ' All I dare tell you is that there is a secret,' replied 
 
io6 Valerie 
 
 Mrs Green, * and the boy has got an inkling of it some- 
 how or another. I must see my lady — no, I had better 
 not,' added she ; * for she is so queer that she'll swear 
 that I've told him. Now there's only one besides myself 
 and her ladyship who knows anything, and I'll swear that 
 he could not have been with the boy, for he's bed-ridden. 
 I'm all of a puzzle, and that's the truth. What a wind 
 there is j why the boy has left the door open. Boys 
 never shut doors.' 
 
 *' Mrs Green got up and slammed the door to, and I 
 walked off; and now. Miss Valerie, that's all that I know 
 of the matter ; but why I should be sent to a good school 
 and wear pepper and salt, and to be taken away to be 
 made first a page, and now a footman, I can't tell ; but 
 you must acknowledge that there is some mystery, after 
 what I have told you." 
 
 "It certainly is strange, Lionel," replied I, "but my 
 advice is that you remain patiently till you can find it out, 
 which by leaving Lady R you are not likely to do." 
 
 " I don't know that. Miss Valerie ; let me get down to 
 Culver wood Hall, and I think I would find out something, 
 or my wits were given me to no purpose. But I hear her 
 ladyship coming upstairs : so good-bye. Miss Valerie." 
 
 And Lionel made a hasty retreat. 
 
 Lady R slowly ascended the stairs, and came into 
 
 the room. Her violence had been exhausted, but she 
 looked sullen and moody, and I could hardly recognise 
 her ; for I must do her the justice to say, that I had never 
 before seen her out of temper. She sat down in her chair, 
 and I asked her whether I should bring her her writing 
 materials. 
 
 " A pretty state I am in to write," replied she, leaning 
 her elbows on the table, and pressing her hands to her 
 eyes. " You don't know what a rage I have been in, and 
 how I have been venting it upon innocent people. I struck 
 that poor boy — shame on me ! Alas ! I was born with 
 violent passions, and they have been my curse through 
 life. I had hoped that years had somewhat subdued them, 
 
Valerie 1 07 
 
 but they will occasionally master me. What would I not 
 give to have had your placid temper, Valerie ! How much 
 unhappiness I should have been spared ! How much error 
 should I have avoided ! I was going to say, how much 
 crime." 
 
 Lady R was evidently more talking to herself than 
 
 to me when she said the last words, and I therefore made 
 no reply. A silence of more than a quarter of an hour 
 followed, which was broken by Lionel coming in, and 
 announcing the carriage of Lady M . 
 
 **That woman is the cause of all this," said Lady 
 
 R- 5 **I am sure that she is. Pray do not wait, 
 
 Valerie. Go and see her. I shall be better company 
 when you come back." 
 
 I made no reply, but left the room, and putting on my 
 
 bonnet, was driven to Lady M 's. She received me 
 
 with great cordiality, and so did her daughters, who were 
 in the room ; but they were dismissed by their mother, 
 who then said, "I told you last night, my dear Made- 
 moiselle de Chatenceuf, that I wished you to reside with me. 
 You may say in what capacity, and I acknowledge that I 
 hardly know what answer to give. Not as governess, 
 certainly, for I consider it an odious position, and one that 
 I could not offer you ; indeed, my girls do not require 
 teaching, as they have finished their studies ; in only one 
 thing you could be of advantage to them in that respect, 
 which is in music and singing. But I wish you to come as 
 their companion, as I am convinced that they will gain 
 much by your so doing. I wish you, therefore, to be 
 considered by others as a visitor at the house, but at the 
 same time I must insist that from the advantages my girls 
 will derive from your assisting them in music and singing, 
 you will accept the same salary per annum which you have 
 
 from Lady R . Do you understand me : I wish you 
 
 to remain with me, not as a model after the idea of Lady 
 
 R , but as a model for my girls to take pattern by. I 
 
 shall leave it to yourself to act as you please. I am sure 
 my girls like you already, and will like you better. I do 
 
io8 Valerie 
 
 not think that I can say more, except that I trust you will 
 not refuse my offer." 
 
 There was a delicacy and kindness in this proposal on 
 
 the part of Lady M which I felt gratefully ; but it 
 
 appeared to me that after all it was only an excuse to offer 
 me an asylum without any remuneration on my part, and I 
 stated my feeling on that point. 
 
 "Do not think so," replied Lady M . **I avoided 
 
 saying so, because I would not have you styled a music- 
 mistress ; but on that one point alone you will more than 
 earn your salary, as I will prove to you by showing you 
 the annual payments to professors for lessons ; but you 
 will be of great value to me in other points, I have no 
 doubt. May I, therefore, consider it as an affaire arrangeeV 
 
 After a little more conversation, I acquiesced, and having 
 
 agreed that I would come as soon as Lady R went to 
 
 the continent, or at all events in three weeks, when Lady 
 
 M quitted London, I took my leave, and was conveyed 
 
 back to Lady R , in the carriage which had been sent 
 
 for me. 
 
 On my return, I found Lady R seated where I had 
 
 left her. 
 
 "Well," said she, "so you have had your audience; 
 and I have no doubt but that you were most graciously 
 received. Oh ! I know the woman ; and I have been re- 
 flecting upon it during your absence, and I have discovered 
 what she wants you for ; but this she has not mentioned, 
 not even hinted at. She knows better ; but when once in 
 her house, you will submit to it, rather than be again in 
 search of a home." 
 
 " I really do not know what you mean, Lady R ," 
 
 said L 
 
 " Has not Lady M asked you to come as a visitor, 
 
 without specifying any particular employment ? " 
 
 " No, she has not. She has proposed my staying in the 
 house to give lessons to her daughters in music, and to be 
 their companion ; but there is nothing stated as to a fixed 
 residence with her." 
 
Valerie 109 
 
 "Well, Valerie, I know that I am odd; but you will 
 soon find out whether you have gained by the change." 
 
 " Lady R , I really do not consider you should be 
 
 so sarcastic or unkind towards me. I do not like to go to 
 France with you for reasons which I have fully explained, 
 at the expense of disclosing family affairs, which I had 
 much rather not have mentioned. You leave me by myself, 
 and I must seek protection somewhere. It is kindly 
 
 offered by Lady M , and in my unfortunate position I 
 
 have not to choose. Be just and be generous." 
 
 "Well, well, I will," said Lady R , the tears 
 
 starting in her eyes ; " but you do not know how much I 
 am annoyed at your leaving me. I had hoped, with all my 
 faults, that I had created in you a feeling of attachment to 
 me — God knows, that I have tried. If you knew all my 
 history, Valerie, you would not be surprised at my being 
 strange. That occurred when I was of your age which 
 would have driven some people to despair or suicide. As 
 it is, it has alienated me from all my relations, not that I 
 have many. My brother, I never see or hear from, and 
 have not for years. I have refused all his invitations to go 
 down to see him, and he is now offended with me ; but 
 there are causes for it, and years cannot wipe away the 
 memory of what did occur." 
 
 "I assure you. Lady R , I have been very sensible 
 
 of your kindness to me," replied I, " and shall always 
 remember it with gratitude ; and if you think I have no 
 regard for you, you are mistaken ; but the subject has 
 become painful — pray let us say no more." 
 
 " Well, Valerie, be it so ; perhaps it is the wisest 
 plan—" 
 
 To change the conversation, I said — " Is not your 
 brother the present baronet ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Lady R . 
 
 " And where does he reside ? " 
 
 " In Essex, at Culverwood Hall, the seat of all my mis- 
 fortunes." 
 
 I started a little at the mention of the place, as it was 
 
no Valerie 
 
 the one which the reader may remember was spoken of by 
 Lionel. I then turned the conversation to other matters, 
 
 and by dinner-time Lady R had recovered herself, and 
 
 was as amiable as ever. 
 
 From that day until Lady R set off for Paris, there 
 
 was not a word said relative to Lady M . She was 
 
 kind and polite, but not so warm and friendly as she had 
 been before, and in her subdued bearing towards me was 
 more agreeable. Her time was now employed in making 
 preparations for her tour. Lionel was the only one who 
 was to accompany her except her own maid. At last she 
 
 fixed the day of her departure, and I wrote to Lady M , 
 
 who returned an answer that it suited her exactly, as she 
 would go to the country the day after. The evening 
 
 before Lady R was to start was passed very gloomily. 
 
 I felt great sorrow at our separation, more than I could have 
 imagined ; but when you have been associated with a person 
 who is good-tempered and kind, you soon feel more for them 
 than you would suppose until you are about to quit them. 
 
 Lady R was very much dispirited, and said to me, 
 
 " Valerie, I have a presentiment that we never shall meet 
 again, and yet I am anything but superstitious. I can 
 truly say that you are the only person to whom I have felt 
 real attachment since my youth, and I feel more than I can 
 describe. Something whispers to me, ' Do not go to 
 France,' and yet something impels me to go. Valerie, if I 
 do come back I trust that you will consider my house your 
 home, if at any time you cannot place yourself more to 
 your satisfaction ; I will not say more, as I know that I am 
 not exactly a lovable person, and my ways are odd ; but 
 do pray look upon me as your sincere friend, who will 
 always be ready to serve you. I have to thank you for a 
 few happy months, and that is saying much. God bless 
 you, my dear Valerie." 
 
 I was moved to tears by what Lady R said, and I 
 
 thanked her with a faltering voice. 
 
 '* Come now," said she, ** I shall be off too early in the 
 morning to see you : let us take our farewell." 
 
Valerie 1 1 1 
 
 Lady R put a small packet into my hand, kissed me 
 
 on the forehead, and then hastened up to her own room. 
 
 That people love change is certain, but still there is a 
 mournfulness connected with it ; even in a change of 
 residence, the packing up, the litter attending it, the 
 corded trunks and packages, give a forlorn appearance to 
 the house itself. To me it was peculiarly distressing ; I 
 had changed so often within the last year, and had such a 
 precarious footing wherever I went, I felt myself to be the 
 sport of fortune, and a football to the whims and caprices 
 of others. I was sitting in my bedroom, my trunks 
 
 packed but not yet closed down, thinking of Lady R 's 
 
 last conversation, and very triste. The packet was lying 
 on the table before me, unopened, when I was roused by a 
 
 knock at the door. I thought it was Lady R 's maid, 
 
 and I said, ** Come in." 
 
 The door opened, and Lionel made his appearance. 
 "Is it you, Lionel ? What do you want ? " 
 ** I knew that you were up, and I recollected as we 
 leave before you do, to-morrow, that you would have no 
 one to cord your luggage, so I thought I would come up 
 and do it for you to-night. Miss Valerie, if it is ready." 
 
 " Thank you, Lionel, it is very considerate of you. I 
 will lock the trunks up, and you can cord them outside." 
 
 Lionel took out the trunks and corded them in the 
 passage. When he had finished he said to me, 
 
 ** Good bye, Miss Valerie. You will see me again 
 very soon." 
 
 " See you very soon, Lionel ! I am afraid there is no 
 
 chance of that, for Lady R intends to stay abroad for 
 
 six months." 
 
 " I do not," replied he. 
 
 " Why, Lionel, it would be very foolish for you to give 
 up such a good situation. You have such unusual wages ; 
 twenty pounds a year, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Valerie. I should not get half that in 
 another situation, but that is one reason why I am going 
 to leave. Why should she give me twenty pounds a year. 
 
112 Valerie 
 
 I must find out why, and find out I will, as I said to you 
 before. She don't give me twenty pounds for my beauty, 
 although she might give you a great deal more, and yet 
 not pay y6u half enough." 
 
 "Weil, Lionel, I think you have been here long 
 enough. It is too late to sit up to pay compliments. 
 Fare you well." 
 
 I shut my door upon him gently, and then went to bed. 
 As usual after excitement, I slept long and soundly. 
 When I awoke the next morning, I found it was broad 
 day, and nearly ten o'clock. I rang the bell, and it was 
 answered by the cook, who told me that she and I were 
 the only people in the house. I rose, and as I passed by 
 my table, I perceived another package lying by the side of 
 the one which Lady R — - — had given me. It was 
 addressed to me and I opened it. It contained a miniature 
 
 of Lady R when she was about my age, and very 
 
 beautiful she must have been. It was labelled **Semp- 
 ronia at eighteen. Keep it for my sake, dear Valerie, 
 and do not open the paper accompanying it until you have 
 my permission, or you hear of my being no more." 
 
 I laid the miniature down and opened the first packet 
 
 given me by Lady R . It contained bank notes to 
 
 the amount of one hundred pounds, nearly double the 
 salary due to me. The contents of both these packets 
 only made me feel more melancholy, and I sighed heavily 
 as I put them in my dressing-case ; but time ran on, and 
 
 I had agreed to be at Lady M ^'s at one o'clock, when 
 
 the carriage would be sent for me. I therefore hastened 
 my toilet, closed the remainder of my luggage, and went 
 down to the breakfast which the cook had prepared for 
 me. While I was at breakfast a letter was brought by 
 the post. It had been directed to Madame Bathurst, and 
 
 was redirected to Lady R 's address. It was from 
 
 Madame Paon, and as follows : — 
 
 " My dear Mdlle. de Chatengeuf, — " As I take it for 
 granted that you do not see the French papers, I write 
 
Valerie 113 
 
 to tell you that your predictions relative to Monsieur 
 
 G , have all proved correct. A month after the 
 
 marriage, he neglected madame, and spent his whole 
 time at the gaming-table, only returning home to obtain 
 fresh supplies from her. These were at last refused, and 
 in his rage he struck her. A suit for separation of 
 person and property was brought into court last week, 
 and terminated in favour of Madame d'Albret, who 
 retains all her fortune, and is rid of a monster. She 
 came to me yesterday morning, and showed me the letter 
 which you had written to her, asking me whether I did 
 not correspond with you, and whether I thought, that 
 after her conduct you could be prevailed upon to return 
 to her. Of course I could not give any opinion, but I 
 am convinced that if you only say that you forgive her, 
 that she will write to you and make the request. I really do 
 not well see how you can do otherwise, after the letter 
 which you wrote to her, but of course you will decide 
 for yourself. I trust, mademoiselle, you will favour me 
 with a speedy answer, as Madame d'Albret is here every 
 day, and is evidently very impatient, — I am, my dear 
 mademoiselle, yours, 
 
 " Emile Paon. 
 "Nee Merce." 
 
 To this letter I sent the following reply by that day's 
 post : — 
 
 " My dear Madame Paon, 
 " That I sincerely forgive Madame d'Albret is true ; I 
 do so from my heart ; but although I forgive her, I cannot 
 listen to any proposal to resume the position I once held. 
 Recollect that she has driven all over Paris, and accused 
 me among all her friends of ingratitude and slander. How 
 then, after having been discarded for such conduct, could 
 I again make my appearance in her company. Either I 
 have done as she has stated, and if so, am unworthy of her 
 patronage, or I have not done so, and therefore have been 
 
 V H 
 
114 Valerie 
 
 cruelly used : made to feel my dependence in the bitterest 
 way, having been dismissed and thrown upon the world 
 with loss of character. Could I ever feel secure or com- 
 fortable with her after such injustice ? or could she feel at 
 her ease on again presenting one as her protegee, whom she 
 had so ill-treated ? would she not have to blush every time 
 that she met with any of our former mutual friends and 
 acquaintances ? It would be a series of humiliations to us 
 both. Assure her of my forgiveness and good-will, and 
 my wishes for her happiness ; but to return to her is 
 impossible. I would rather starve. If she knew what I 
 have suffered in consequence of her hasty conduct towards 
 me, she would pity me more than she may do now ; but 
 what is done is done. There is no remedy for it. Adieu, 
 Madame Paon. Many thanks for your kindness to one so 
 fallen as I am. — " Yours truly and sincerely, 
 
 '* Valerie." 
 
 I wrote the above under great depression of spirits, and 
 it was with a heavy heart that I afterwards alighted at 
 
 Lady M 's residence in St James's Square. If smiles, 
 
 however, and cordial congratulations, and shakes of the 
 hand could have consoled me, they were not wanting on 
 
 the part of Lady M and her daughters. I was shown 
 
 all the rooms below, then Lady M 's room, the young 
 
 ladies' rooms, and lastly my own, and was truly glad when 
 I was at last left alone to unpack and arrange my things. 
 
 The room allotted to me was very comfortable, and 
 better furnished than those in which the young ladies slept, 
 and as far as appearances went, I was in all respects treated 
 as a visitor and not as a governess. The maid who 
 attended me was very civil, and as she assisted and laid 
 my dresses in the wardrobe, made no attempt to be 
 familiar. I ought to have informed the reader that Lady 
 
 M — ■ — was a widow. Lord M having died about two 
 
 years before. Her eldest son, the present Lord M -, 
 
 was on the continent. Dinner was announced ; there were 
 only two visitors, and I was treated as one of the company. 
 
Valerie 1 1 5 
 
 In fact, nothing could be more gratifying than the manner 
 in which I was treated. In the evening, I played and sang. 
 The young ladies did the same ; their voices were good, 
 but they wanted expression in their singing, and I perceived 
 that I could be useful. 
 
 Lady M asked me, when we were not overheard, 
 
 * * what I thought of her daughters' singing ? " 
 
 I told her frankly. 
 
 "It is impossible to doubt the truth of what you say, 
 my dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, after having heard 
 your performance. I knew that you were considered a 
 good performer, but I had no idea of the perfection which 
 you have arrived at." 
 
 " If your daughters are really fond of music, they would 
 soon do as well, my lady," replied I. 
 
 " Impossible," exclaimed her ladyship ; **but still they 
 must gain something from listening to you. You look 
 fatigued. Do you wish to go to bed ? Augusta will go 
 up with you." 
 
 **I have a nervous headache," replied I, "and I will 
 accept your ladyship's considerate proposal." 
 
 Augusta, the eldest daughter, lighted a chamber-candle, 
 and went up with me into my room. After a little con- 
 versation, she wished me good-night, and thus passed the 
 first day in St James's Square. 
 
 Chapter VIII 
 
 As arranged by Lady M — — , the next day we went to 
 Harking Castle, the family seat, in Dorsetshire, and I was 
 not sorry to be again quiet, after the noise and bustle of a 
 
 London season. As Lady M had observed, the young 
 
 ladies were sadly jaded with continual late hours and hot 
 rooms, but they had not been a week in the country before 
 they were improved in appearance and complexion. They 
 certainly were amiable, nice girls ; clever, and without 
 
1 1 6 Valerie 
 
 pride, and I soon became attached to them. I attended to 
 their music, and they made great progress. I also taught 
 them the art of making flowers in wax, which I had so 
 lately learned myself. This was all I could do, except 
 mildly remonstrating with them when I saw what did not 
 appear to me to be quite correct, in their conduct and deport- 
 ment. Lady M appeared quite satisfied, and treated 
 
 me with great consideration, and I was in a short time very 
 happy in my new position. 
 
 For the first month, there were no visitors in the house ; 
 
 after that, invitations were sent out. Lady M had 
 
 said that she would have a month's quiet to recover herself 
 from the fatigues of the season, and I had no doubt but 
 that she also thought her daughters would be much 
 benefited, as they really were, by a similar retirement. 
 It was on the Monday that company was expected, and 
 
 on Friday Lady M desired Augusta, the eldest 
 
 daughter, to put on a new dress which had just been 
 made by the two lady's-maids, and come down in it that 
 she might see it on. When Augusta made her appear- 
 ance, and her mother had surveyed the dress, she said, 
 
 " I do not quite like it, Augusta, and yet I do not 
 exactly know where it's wrong ; but something requires 
 to be altered : it does not hang gracefully." 
 
 As she said this, I was reading a book, and I naturally 
 looked up, and immediately perceived the alteration which 
 the dress required. I pointed it out, and with a few 
 pins made the dress sit well. 
 
 " Why this is a new talent, my dear Mademoiselle de 
 Chatenoeuf, one that I had no idea that you possessed ; 
 although I admit that no one dresses more elegantly than 
 
 you do," said Lady M . " How much I am obliged 
 
 to you for taking so much trouble." 
 
 " I am most happy to be of any service, Lady M , 
 
 and you may always command me," replied L "I have 
 the credit of being a very good milliner." 
 
 " I believe you can do anything," replied Lady M . 
 
 " Augusta, go up to Benson and show her the alterations 
 
Valerie 117 
 
 that are required, and tell her to make them directly. 
 
 After all," continued Lady M , to me, " it is bad 
 
 economy making dresses at home, but I really cannot 
 afford to pay the extravagant prices charged by Madame 
 Desbelli. My bills are monstrous, and my poverty, but 
 not my will, consents. Still it does make such a dijfference 
 in the appearance, being well-dressed, that if I could, I 
 never would have a dress made at home ; but the saving 
 is astonishing — nearly two-thirds, I assure you." 
 
 " If you will allow me to interfere a little, my lady," 
 replied I, "I think you can have them as well made at 
 home as by Madame Desbelli. I think I can be useful." 
 
 " You are very kind. Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, but 
 it will be taxing you too much." 
 
 " Not at all. Lady M , if I have your sanction." 
 
 ** You shall do just as you please, my dear," replied 
 
 Lady M ; "I give you full authority over the whole 
 
 household, if you wish it ; but indeed I think Benson will 
 be much obliged to you for any slight hint that you may 
 give her, and I am sure that I shall ; but the carriage is 
 at the door — do you drive to-day ? " 
 
 " Not to-day, I thank you. Lady M ," replied L 
 
 ** Well, then, I will take Hortense and Amy with me, 
 and leave Augusta with you." 
 
 After Lady M— — 's departure, I went up to the room 
 where the maids were at work. I altered the arrange- 
 ment of Augusta's dress so as to suit her figure, and cut 
 out the two others for Hortense and Amy. Wishing to 
 
 please Lady M , I worked myself at Augusta's dress, 
 
 and had it completed before Lady M had returned from 
 
 her drive. It certainly was now a very different affair, 
 and Augusta looked remarkably well in it. She was 
 delighted herself, and hastened down to her mother to 
 
 show it to her. When I came down to dinner. Lady M 
 
 was profuse in her acknowledgments ; the two other 
 dresses, when finished, gave equal satisfaction, and from 
 
 that time till the period of my quitting Lady M , all the 
 
 dresses, not only of the young ladies, but those of Lady 
 
1 1 8 Valerie 
 
 M , were made at home, and my taste and judgment 
 
 invariably appealed to and most cheerfully given. I felt it 
 my duty to be of all the use that I could be, and perhaps 
 was not a little gratified by the compliments I received 
 upon my exquisite taste. Time passed on ; during the 
 shooting season, Augusta, the eldest daughter, received a 
 very good offer, which was accepted; and at the Christmas 
 festivities, Hortense, the second girl, accepted another 
 
 proposal, which was also very favourable. Lady M 
 
 was delighted at such success. 
 
 **Is it not strange, my dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, 
 that I have been fagging two seasons, night and day, to 
 get husbands for those girls, and now alone here, in 
 solitude and retirement almost, they have both obtained 
 excellent establishments. I do really declare that I believe 
 it is all owing to you, and the delightful manner in which 
 you have dressed them." 
 
 ** I should rather think that it is owing, in the first place, 
 to their having so much improved in personal appearance 
 since they have been down in the country," replied I ; 
 " and further, to the gentlemen having now an opportunity 
 of discovering their truly estimable qualities, which they 
 were not likely to do at Almack's or other parties during a 
 London season." 
 
 ** You may think so," replied Lady M , " but it is my 
 
 conviction that all is owing to their being so tastefully 
 dressed. Why every one admires the elegance of their 
 costume, and requests patterns. Well, now I have only 
 Amy on my hands, and I think that her sister's high 
 connections will assist in getting her off." 
 
 " She is a sweet girl, Amy," replied I, " and were I you 
 Lady M , I should be in no hurry to part with her." 
 
 ** Indeed, but I am," replied Lady M , "you don't 
 
 know the expense of girls, and my jointure is not so very 
 large; however, I must not complain. Don't you think 
 Amy looks better in lilac than any other colour ? " 
 
 " She looks well in almost any colour," replied L 
 
 " Yes, with your taste, I grant," replied Lady M . 
 
Valerie 1 1 9 
 
 " Are you aware that we go to town in a fortnight ? We 
 must look after the trousseaux. It was arranged last night that 
 both marriages shall take place in February. Amy will, of 
 course be one of the brides'-maids, and I trust to you, my 
 dear Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, to invent something very 
 distingue for her on that occasion. Who knows but that 
 it may get her off ? but it's late, so good-night." 
 
 I could not admire Lady M 's apparent hurry to get 
 
 rid of her daughters, but it certainly was the one thing 
 needful which had occupied all her thoughts and attention 
 during the time that I had been with her. That it was 
 natural she should wish that her children were well 
 established, I granted, but all that she appeared to consider 
 was good connection, and the means of living in good 
 style, every other point as to the character of the husbands 
 being totally overlooked. 
 
 A fortnight after Christmas we all went to London, and 
 
 were, as Lady M had observed, very busy with the 
 
 trousseaux, when one day the butler came to say that a 
 young gentleman wished to see me, and was waiting in the 
 breakfast parlour below. I went down, wondering who 
 it could be, when to my surprise, I found Lionel, the page 
 
 of Lady R , dressed in plain clothes, and certainly 
 
 looking very much like a gentleman. He bowed very 
 respectfully to me when he entered, much more so than 
 
 he had ever done when he was a page with Lady R , 
 
 and said, 
 
 " Miss Valerie, I have ventured to call upon you, as I 
 thought when we parted, that you did me the honour to 
 feel some little interest about me, and I thought you 
 would like to know what has taken place. I have been 
 in England now four months, and have not been idle 
 during that time." 
 
 "I am certainly glad to see you, Lionel, although 
 
 I am sorry you have left Lady R , and I hope 
 
 you have been satisfied with the result of your in- 
 quiries." 
 
 " It is rather a long story, Miss Valerie, and, if you 
 
I20 Valerie 
 
 wish to hear it, you wil] oblige me by sitting down while 
 I narrate it to you." 
 
 ** I hope it will not be too long, Lionel, as I shall be 
 
 wanted in an hour or so, to go out with Lady M , 
 
 but I am ready to hear you," continued I, sitting down 
 as he requested. 
 
 Lionel stood by me, and then commenced — " We 
 arrived at Dover the evening of the day that we left. 
 
 Miss Valerie; and Lady R , who had been in a 
 
 state of great agitation during the journey, was so unwell, 
 that she remained there four or five days. As soon as 
 she was better, I thought it was advisable that she should 
 settle my book, and pay me my wages before we left 
 England, and I brought it to her, stating my wish, as the 
 sum was then very large. 
 
 ** * And what do you want money for ? ' said she, rather 
 angrily. 
 
 ** * I want to place it in safety, my lady,* replied L 
 
 " * That's as much as to say that it is not safe with 
 me.' 
 
 " 'No, my lady,' replied L * But suppose any accident 
 were to happen to you abroad, would your executors 
 ever believe that you owed more than -£2^, besides a 
 year's wages to a page like me ; they would say that it 
 could not be, and would not pay me my money ; neither 
 would they believe that you gave me such wages.' 
 
 " ' Well,' she replied, ' there is some truth in that, 
 and it will, perhaps, be better that I do pay you at once, 
 but where will you put the money, Lionel ? ' 
 
 ** * I will keep the check, my lady, if you please.' 
 
 " * Then I will write it to order and not to bearer,' 
 replied she, * and then if you lose it, it will not be paid, 
 for it will require your own signature.' 
 
 " ' Thank you, my lady,' replied L 
 
 "Having examined my accounts and my wages due, she 
 gave me a check for the full amount. The next morning, 
 the packet was to sail at nine o'clock. We were in good 
 time, and as soon as Lady R was on board she went 
 
Valerie 121 
 
 down into the cabin. Her maid asked me for the bottle 
 of salts which I had purposely left under the sofa pillow 
 at the Ship Hotel. I told her that I had left it, and as 
 there was plenty of time would run and fetch it. I did 
 so, but contrived not to be back until the steamer had 
 moved away from the pier, and her paddles were in 
 motion. I called out * Stop, stop,' knowing of course that 
 they would not, although they were not twenty yards 
 
 away. I saw Lady R 's maid run to the captain and 
 
 speak to him, but it was of no use, and thus I was left 
 
 behind, without Lady R having any suspicion that it 
 
 was intentional on my part. 
 
 " I waited at the pier till the packet was about two 
 miles off, and then walked away from the crowd of people 
 who were bothering me with advice how to proceed, so 
 that I might join my mistress at Calais. I returned to the 
 hotel for a portion of my clothes which I had not sent on 
 board of the packet, but had left in charge of the boots, 
 and then sat down in the tap to reflect upon what I should 
 do. My first object was to get rid of my sugar-loaf 
 buttons, for I hated livery. Miss Valerie ; perhaps it was 
 pride, but I could not help it. I walked out till I came to 
 a slop-seller's, as they call them at seaports, and went in ; 
 there was nothing hanging up but seamen's clothes, and 
 on reflection, I thought I could not do better than to dress 
 as a sailor ; so I told the man that I wanted a suit of 
 sailor's clothes. 
 
 " * You want to go to sea, I suppose,' said the man, not 
 guessing exactly right, considering that I just refused to 
 embark. 
 
 " However, I bargained first for a complete suit, and 
 then sold him my liveries, exchanging my dress in the 
 back parlour. I then returned to the tap, obtained my 
 other clothes, and as soon as the coach started, got outside 
 and arrived in London. I called upon you at this house, 
 and found that you were in the country, and then I 
 resolved that I would go down to Culverwood Hall." 
 
 " And now you must leave off, Lionel, for the present," 
 
122 Valerie 
 
 said I, " for I must go out with Lady M . Come to- 
 morrow, early, and I shall have leisure to hear the rest of 
 your story." 
 
 The following morning Lionel returned and resumed 
 his history. 
 
 "Miss Valerie, little things often give you more trouble 
 than greater ; and I had more difficulty to find out where 
 Culverwood Hall was than you may imagine. I asked 
 many at the inn where I put up, but no one could tell me, 
 and at such places I was not likely to find any book which 
 I could refer to. I went to the coach offices and asked 
 what coaches started for Essex, and the reply was, 
 * Where did I want to go ? ' and, when I said Culverwood 
 Hall, no one could tell me by which coach I was to go, or 
 which town it was near. At last, I did find out from the 
 porter of the Saracen's Head, who had taken in parcels 
 with that address, and who went to the coachman, who 
 said that his coach passed within a mile of Sir Alexander 
 Moystyn's, who lived there. I never knew her ladyship's 
 maiden name before. I took my place by the coach, for I 
 had gone to the banker's in Fleet Street, and received the 
 money for my check, and started the next morning at 
 three o'clock. 
 
 **I was put down at a village called Westgate, at an 
 inn called the Moystyn Arms. I kept to the dress of a 
 sailor, and when the people spoke to me on the coach, 
 kept up the character as well as I could, which is very 
 easy to do when you have to do with people who know 
 nothing about it. I shivered my timbers, and all that sort 
 of thing, and hitched up my trousers, as they do at the 
 theatres. The coachman told me that the inn was the 
 nearest place I could stop at, if I wanted to go to the hall, 
 and taking my bundle, I got down and he drove off. A 
 sailor-boy is a sort of curiosity in a country village. Miss 
 Valerie, and I had many questions put to me, but I 
 answered them by putting others. I said that my friends 
 were formerly living at the hall in the old baronet's time, 
 but that I knew little about them, as it was a long while 
 
Valerie 123 
 
 ago j and I asked if there were any of the old servants 
 still living at the place. The woman who kept the inn 
 told me that there was one, Old Roberts, who still lived 
 in the village, and been bedridden for some years. This of 
 course was the person I wanted, and I inquired what had 
 become of his family. The reply was, that his daughter, 
 who had married Green, was somewhere in London, and 
 his son, who had married Kitty Wilson of the village, had 
 gone to reside as gamekeeper somewhere near Portsmouth, 
 and had a large family of children.' 
 
 " * You're right enough,' replied I, laughing, * we are 
 a large family.' 
 
 "'What, are you old Roberts' grandson?' exclaimed 
 the woman. *Well, we did hear that one of them, 
 Harry, I think, did go to sea.' 
 
 a i Well, now, perhaps you'll tell me where I am to 
 find the old gentleman ? ' replied I. 
 
 " * Come with me,' said she, ' he lives hard-by, and 
 glad enough he'll be, poor man, to have any one to talk 
 with him a bit, for it's a lonesome life he leads in bed 
 there.' 
 
 " I followed the woman, and when about a hundred 
 yards from the inn, she stopped at the door of a small 
 house, and called to Mrs Meshin, to * go up and tell old 
 Roberts that one of his grandsons is here.' A snuffy old 
 woman made her appearance, peered at me through her 
 spectacles, and then stumped up a pair of stairs which 
 faced the door. Shortly afterwards I was desired to 
 come up, and did so. I found an old man with silver 
 hair lying in bed, and the said Mrs Meshin, with her 
 spectacles, smoothing down the bed-clothes, and making 
 the place tidy. 
 
 " ' What cheer, old boy ? ' said I, after T. P. Cooke's 
 style. 
 
 "*What do you say? I'm hard of hearing, rather,' 
 replied the old man. 
 
 " * How do you find yourself, sir ? ' said I. 
 
 " * Oh, pretty well for an old man ; and so you're my 
 
124 Valerie 
 
 grandson, Harry •, glad to see you. — You may go, Mrs 
 Meshin, and shut the door, and do you hear, don't listen 
 at the key-hole.' 
 
 ** The stately lady, Mrs Meshin, growled, and then left 
 the room, slamming the door. 
 
 " * She is very cross, grandson,' said the old man, * and 
 I see nobody but her. It's a sad thing to be bedridden 
 this way, and not to get out in the fresh air, and sadder 
 still to be tended by a cross old woman, who won't talk 
 when I want her, and won't hold her tongue when I want 
 her. I'm glad to see you, boy. I hope you won't go 
 away directly, as your brother Tom did. I want some- 
 body to talk to me, sadly ; and how do you like being at 
 sea ? ' 
 
 " * I like the shore, better, sir.' 
 
 " * Ay, so all sailors say, I believe ; and yet I would 
 rather go to sea than lie here all day long. It's all owing 
 to my being out as I used to do, night after night, watch- 
 ing for poachers. I had too little bed then, and now I've 
 too much of it. But the sea must be grand. As the Bible 
 says, " They who go upon the great waters, they see the 
 wonders of the deep." ' 
 
 " I was glad to find that the old man was so perfect in 
 all his mental faculties, and after having listened to, rather 
 than replied to, observations about his son and my 
 supposed brothers and sisters, by which I obtained a 
 pretty accurate knowledge of them, I wished him good- 
 bye, and promised to call and have a long talk in the 
 morning. 
 
 "On my return to the inn, I was able to reply to all 
 the interrogatories which were put to me relative to my 
 supposed relations, thanks to the garrulity of old Roberts, 
 and put many questions relative to the family residing at 
 the hall, which were freely answered. As the evening 
 advanced, many people came in, and the noise and smoking 
 were so disagreeable to me, that I asked for a bed, and 
 retired. The next morning I repaired to old Roberts, 
 who appeared delighted to see me. 
 
Valerie 125 
 
 " * You are a good boy,' said he, ' to come and see a 
 poor bedridden old man, who has not a soul that comes 
 near him perhaps in a week. And now tell me what took 
 place during your last voyage.' 
 
 ** * The last vessel I was on board of,' replied I, * was 
 a packet from Dover to Calais.' 
 
 " * Well, that must be pleasant ; so many passengers.' 
 
 " * Yes, sir ; and who do you think I saw on board of 
 the packet the other day — somebody that you know.' 
 
 " ' Ay, who ? ' 
 
 " * Why Lady R ,' replied I, * and that young 
 
 gentleman who, I heard say, once lived with her as her 
 servant.' 
 
 *' * Ay ! ' said the old man, * indeed ! then she has done 
 justice at last. I'm glad on it, Harry, glad on it, for it's a 
 relief to my mind. I was bound to the secret, and have 
 kept it ; but when a man is on the brink of the grave, 
 he does not like to have a secret like that upon his 
 mind, and I've more than once talked to my daughter 
 about — ' 
 
 " • What, aunt Green ? ' 
 
 " * Yes, your aunt Green ; but she would never listen to 
 me. We both took our oath, and she said it was binding ; 
 besides, we were paid for it. Well, well, I thank God, 
 for it's a great load off my mind.' 
 
 " * Yes, sir,' replied I, * you need not keep the secret 
 any longer now.' 
 
 " * And how has he grown up ? ' said the old man ; * is 
 he good-looking ? ' 
 
 ** * Very much so, sir,' replied I, * and looks very much 
 like a gentleman.' " 
 
 I could not help laughing at this part of Lionel's story, 
 although I could not but admit the truth. Lionel observed 
 it, and said, 
 
 " You cannot be surprised at my giving myself a good 
 character. Miss Valerie, for, as they say in the kitchen, it's 
 all that a poor servant has to depend upon." 
 
 " Go on," replied I. 
 
126 Valerie 
 
 " * He was a very fine child while he lived with us ; but 
 he was taken away at six years old, and I have never seen 
 him since.' 
 
 " * Some people say that he is very like Lady R .' 
 
 "*Well, why should he not be? ay, she was once a 
 very beautiful young person.' 
 
 ***Well, grandfather, I have never heard the rights of 
 that story,' said I, ' and now that you are at liberty to tell 
 it, perhaps you will let me have the whole history.' 
 
 " * Well,' said the old man, * as there is no longer a secret, 
 I do not know but that I may. Your aunt Green, you 
 
 know, was nurse to Lady R , and remained in the 
 
 family for years afterwards ; for old Sir Alexander 
 Moystyn was confined to his room for years with gout and 
 other complaints, and your aunt Green attended him. It 
 was just as Sir Alexander had recovered from a very bad 
 
 fit, that Miss Ellen, who was Lady R 's sister, and 
 
 years younger than she was, made her runaway match with 
 Colonel Dempster, a very fashionable, gay young man, who 
 had come down here to shoot with the present baronet. 
 Everyone was much surprised at this, for all the talk was 
 
 that the match would be with the eldest sister. Lady R , 
 
 and not the youngest. They went off somewhere abroad. 
 Old Sir Alexander was in a terrible huff about it, and was 
 
 taken ill again; and Lady R , who was then Miss 
 
 Barbara, appeared also much distressed at her sister's 
 conduct. Well, a year or more passed away, when, one 
 day. Miss Barbara told your aunt Green that she wished 
 her to go with her on a journey, and she set off in the 
 evening with four post-horses, and travelled all night till 
 she arrived at Southampton. There she stopped at a 
 lodging, and got out, spoke to the landlady, and calling my 
 daughter out of the chaise, desired her to remain below 
 while she went upstairs. My daughter was tired of staying 
 so long, for she remained there for five hours, and Miss 
 Barbara did not make her appearance, but they appeared 
 to be very busy in the house, running up and downstairs. 
 At last a grave person, who appeared to be a doctor, came 
 
Valerie 127 
 
 into the parlour, followed by the landlady — in the parlour 
 in which my daughter was sitting. 
 
 " ' It's all over, Mrs Wilson,' said he, ' nothing could 
 save her ; but the child will do well, I have no doubt.' 
 " ' What's to be done, sir ? ' 
 
 " * Oh,' replied the doctor, * the lady above stairs told 
 me that she was her sister, so of course we must look to 
 her for all future arrangements.' 
 
 " * After giving a few directions about the infant, the 
 doctor left the house, and soon after that Miss Barbara 
 came downstairs. 
 
 ** ^I'm quite worn out, Martha,' said she, Met us go to 
 the hotel as fast as we can. You sent away the carriage, 
 of course. I would it had remained, for I shall hardly be 
 able to walk so far.' 
 
 " ' She took her arm, and as the landlady opened the 
 door, she said, 
 
 " * I will call to-morrow, and give directions about the 
 infant, and everything which is necessary. — * I never 
 went through such a trying scene,' said Miss Barbara ; 
 * she was an old schoolfellow of mine, who entreated me 
 to come to her in her distress. She died giving birth to 
 her infant, and it was, I presume, with that presentiment, 
 that she sent for me and entreated me, on her death-bed, 
 to protect the unfortunate child, for she has been cast 
 away by her relations in consequence of her misconduct. 
 You have never had the small-pox, Martha, have you ? ' 
 " ' No, miss,' she replied, ' you know I never have.' 
 " * Well, it was having the small-pox at the same time 
 that she was confined, that has caused her death, and that 
 was the reason why I did not send for you to come up and 
 assist.' 
 
 " * My daughter made no answer, for Miss Barbara was 
 of a haughty temper, and she was afraid of her ; but she 
 did not forget that the doctor had told the landlady that 
 Miss Barbara had stated the lady to be her sister. My 
 daughter had thought it very odd that Miss Barbara 
 had not told her, during their journey, where she was 
 
128 Valerie 
 
 going, and who she was going to see, for Miss Barbara 
 had wrapped herself up in her cloak, and pretended to be 
 asleep during the whole time, only waking up to pay the 
 post-boys ; but Miss Barbara was of a very violent temper, 
 and had, since her sister's marriage, been much worse than 
 before j indeed, some said that she was a little mad, and 
 used to walk at moonlights. 
 
 " ' When they arrived at the hotel, Miss Barbara went to 
 bed, and insisted upon my daughter sleeping in the same room, 
 as she was afraid of being alone in an hotel. My daughter 
 thought over the business as she lay in bed, and at last 
 resolved to ascertain the truth j so she got up early the 
 next morning, and walked to the lodging-house, and when 
 the door was opened by the landlady, pretended to come 
 from her mistress to inquire how the infant was. The 
 reply was that it was doing well ; and then a conversation 
 took place, in which my daughter found out that the lady 
 did not die of the small-pox, as Miss Barbara had stated. 
 The landlady asked my daughter if she would not like to 
 come up and look at the corpse. My daughter consented, 
 as it was what she was about to request, and when she 
 went up, sure enough it was poor Mrs Dempster, Miss 
 Ellen that was, who had run away with the colonel. 
 
 " * An't it a pity, ma'am,' said the landlady, * her husband 
 died only two months ago, and they say he was so hand- 
 some a man ; indeed, he must have been, for here's his 
 picture, which the poor lady wore round her neck.' 
 
 " ' When your aunt had satisfied herself, and cried a 
 little over the body, for she was very fond of Miss Ellen, 
 she went back to the hotel as fast as she could, and getting 
 a jug of warm water from the kitchen, she went into Miss 
 Barbara's room, and had just time to throw off her bonnet 
 and shawl, when Miss Barbara woke up and asked who 
 was there. 
 
 "*It's me, miss,' replied my daughter, 'I've just gone 
 down for some warm water for you, for it's past nine 
 o'clock, and I thought you would like to be up early.' 
 
 " * Yes, I must get up, Martha, for I intend to return 
 
Valerie 129 
 
 home to-day. It's no use waiting here. I will have 
 breakfast, and then walk to the lodgings and give direc- 
 tions. You may pack up in the meantime, for I suppose 
 you do not wish to go with me.' 
 
 " * Oh, no, miss,' replied your aunt, * I am frightened 
 out of my wits at having been in the house already, now 
 that I know that the lady died of the small-pox.' 
 
 " * Well, Miss Barbara went away after breakfast and 
 remained for two or three hours, when she returned, a 
 servant bringing the baby with her. My daughter had 
 packed up everything, and in half-an-hour they were on 
 the road back, the baby with them in my daughter's arms. 
 Now, you see, if it had not been for the accidental remark 
 of the doctor's in your aunt's presence, she would have 
 been completely deceived by Miss Barbara, and never would 
 have known whose child it was ; but your aunt kept her 
 own counsel ; indeed, she was afraid to do otherwise. 
 
 " * As they went home. Miss Barbara talked a great deal 
 to your aunt, telling her that this Mrs Bedingfield was a 
 great friend of hers, with whom she had corresponded for 
 years after they had left school; that her husband had 
 been killed in a duel a short time before, that he was a 
 gambler, and a man of very bad character, nevertheless 
 she had promised Mrs Bedingfield before she died, that she 
 would take care of the child, and that she would do so. 
 She then said, " Martha, I should like your mother to take 
 charge of it, do you think that she would ? but it must be 
 a secret, for my father would be very angry with me, and 
 besides, there might be unpleasant reports." Your aunt 
 replied, " that she thought that her mother would," and 
 then Miss Barbara proposed that your aunt should get 
 out of the chaise when they stopped to change horses at 
 the last stage, when it was dark, and no one could perceive 
 it, and walk with the infant until she could find some 
 conveyance to my house. 
 
 ** * This was done, the child was brought to your 
 grandmother, who is now in heaven, and then your aunt 
 made known to us what she had discovered, and whose 
 
 V I 
 
130 Valerie 
 
 child it was. I was very angry, and if I had not been laid 
 up at the time with the rheumatism, would have gone right 
 into Sir Alexander's room, and told him who the infant was, 
 but I was over-ruled by your grandmother and your aunt, 
 who then went away and walked to the hall. So we 
 agreed that we would say exactly what Miss Barbara said 
 to us when she came over to us on the next day.' " 
 
 "Well, then, Lionel, I have to congratulate you on 
 being the son of a gentleman, and the nephew of Lady 
 
 R . I wish you joy with all my heart," said I, 
 
 extending my hand. 
 
 " Thank you. Miss Valerie. It is true that I am so, 
 but proofs are still to be given ; but of that here- 
 after." 
 
 *' Lionel, you have been standing all this while. I 
 think it would be most uncourteous if I did not request 
 you to take a chair." Lionel did so, and then proceeded 
 with the old man's narrative. 
 
 " ' About a month after this. Sir Richard R came 
 
 down, and after three weeks was accepted by Miss 
 Barbara. It was a hasty match everyone thought, 
 especially as the news of Mrs Dempster's death had, 
 as it was reported, been received by letter, and all the 
 family had gone into mourning. Poor old Sir Alexander 
 never held up his head afterwards, and in two months 
 more he was carried to the family vault. Your aunt 
 then came home to us, and as you have heard, married 
 poor Green, who was killed in a poaching business about 
 three months after his marriage. Then came your poor 
 grandmother's death of a quinsy, and so I was left alone 
 with your aunt Green, who then took charge of the 
 child, who had been christened by the name of Lionel 
 Bedingfield. There was some talk about the child, and 
 some wonders whose it could be ; but after the death of 
 Sir Alexander, and Miss Barbara had gone away with her 
 husband, nothing more was thought or said about it. 
 And now, boy, I've talked enough for to-day, to-morrow 
 I'll tell you the rest of the history." 
 
Valerie 131 
 
 " Perhaps, Miss Valerie, you think the same of me, 
 and are tired with listening," observed Lionel. 
 
 " Not at all ; and I have leisure now which I may 
 not have another time ; besides your visits, if so frequent, 
 may cause inquiries, and I shall not know what to 
 say." 
 
 "Well, then, I'll finish my story this morning. Miss 
 Valerie. The next day, old Roberts continued : * It 
 was about three months after Sir Alexander's death, 
 when her brother, the new baronet, came down to 
 Gulverwood Hall, that Miss Barbara made her appearance 
 
 again as Lady R . Your grandmother was just 
 
 buried, and poor Green had not been dead more than a 
 month. Your aunt, who was much afflicted at the loss 
 of her husband, and was of course very grave and serious, 
 began to agree with me that it would be very wicked 
 of us, knowing whose child it was, to keep the secret. 
 Moreover, you aunt had become very fond of the infant, 
 for it in a manner consoled her for the loss of her 
 
 husband. Lady R came to the cottage to see us, 
 
 and we then both told her that we did not like to keep 
 secret the child's parentage, as it was doing a great 
 injustice, if injustice had not been done already. Lady 
 
 R was very much frightened at what we said, and 
 
 begged very hard that we would not expose her. She 
 would be ruined, she said, in the opinion of her husband, 
 and also of her own relations. She begged and prayed 
 so hard, and made a solemn promise to us, that she 
 would do justice to the child as soon as she could with 
 prudence, that she overcame our scruples, and we agreed 
 to say nothing at present. She also put a bank-note for 
 ^^50 into my daughter's hands to defray expenses and 
 pay for trouble, and told her that the same amount 
 would be paid every year until the child was taken 
 away. 
 
 " ' I believe this did more to satisfy our scruples than 
 anything else. It ought not to have done so, but we 
 were poor, and money is a great temptation. At all 
 
132 Valerie 
 
 events, we were satisfied with Lady R 's promise, and 
 
 with her liberality ; and from that time till the child was 
 seven years old we received the money, and had charge of 
 the boy. He was then taken away and sent to school, 
 
 but where we did not know for some time. Lady R 
 
 was still very liberal to us, always stating her intention of 
 acknowledging the child to be her nephew. > At last my 
 daughter was summoned to London, and sent to the 
 
 school for the boy ; Lady R stating it to be her 
 
 intention of keeping him at her own house, now that her 
 husband was dead. This rejoiced us very much ; but we 
 had no idea that it was as a servant that he was to be em- 
 ployed, as your aunt afterwards found out, when she went 
 
 up to London and called unexpectedly upon Lady R . 
 
 However, Lady R said that what she was doing was 
 
 for the best, and was more liberal than usual ; and that 
 stopped our tongues. 
 
 " ' Three years back your aunt left this place to find 
 employment in London, and has resided there ever since 
 as a clear-starcher and getter-up of lace ; but she often 
 sends me down money, quite sufficient to pay for all the 
 few comforts and expenses required by a bedridden old 
 man. There, Harry, now Fve told you the whole story ; 
 and I am glad that I am able to do so, and that at last she 
 has done justice to the lad, and there is no further a load 
 upon my conscience, which often caused me to lay down 
 my Bible, when I was reading, and sigh.' 
 
 *' * But,' said I, * are you sure that she has acknow- 
 ledged him as her nephew ? ' 
 
 " * Am I sure ! Why, did not you say so ? ' 
 
 " ' No; I only said that he was with her, travelling in 
 her company,' 
 
 " * Well, but— I understood you that it was all 
 right.' 
 
 " * It may be all right,' replied I, * but how can I tell ? 
 
 I only saw them together. Lady R may still keep 
 
 her secret, for all I can say to the contrary. I don't 
 wonder at its being a load on your mind. I shouldn't be 
 
Valerie 133 
 
 able to sleep at nights ; and, as for my reading my Bible, 
 I should think it wicked to do so, with the recollection 
 always before me, that I had been a party in defrauding a 
 poor boy of his name, and, perhaps fortune.' 
 
 **'Dear me! dear me! I've often thought as much, 
 Harry.' 
 
 " * Yes, grandfather, and, as you say, on the brink of 
 the grave. Who knows but you may be called away this 
 very night ? ' 
 
 ** * Yes, yes, who knows, boy,' replied the old man, 
 looking rather terrified ; * but what shall I do ? ' 
 
 " * I know what I would do,' replied I. * I'd make a clean 
 breast of it at once. I'd send for the minister and a 
 magistrate, and state the whole story upon affidavit. Then 
 you will feel happy again, and ease your mind, and not 
 before.' 
 
 " * Well, boy, I believe you are right, I'll think about 
 it. Leave me now.' 
 
 ** 'Think about your own soul, sir — think of your own 
 
 danger, and do not mind Lady R . There can be but 
 
 a bad reason for doing such an act of injustice. I will 
 come again in an hour, sir, and then you will let me know 
 your decision. Think about what the Bible says about 
 those who defraud the widow and orphan. Good-bye for 
 the present.' 
 
 " * No, stop, boy, I've made up my mind. You may go 
 to Mr Sewell, the clergyman, he often calls to see me, and 
 I can speak to him. I'll tell him.' 
 
 **I did not wait for the old man to alter his mind, but 
 hastened as fast as I could to the parsonage-house, which 
 was not four hundred yards distant. I went to the door 
 and asked for Mr Sewell, who came out to me. I told 
 him that old Roberts wanted to see him immediately, as 
 he had an important confession to make. 
 
 " ' Is the old man going, then ? I did not hear that he 
 was any way dangerously ill ? ' 
 
 " * No, sir, he is in his usual health, but he has some- 
 thing very heavy on his conscience, and he begs your 
 
134 Valerie 
 
 presence immediately that he may reveal an important 
 secret.' 
 
 " ' Well, my lad, go back to him and say that I will be 
 there in two hours. You are his grandson, I believe ? ' 
 
 ** * I will go and tell him, sir,' replied I, evading the last 
 question. 
 
 " I returned to old Roberts, and informed him that the 
 clergyman would be with him in an hour or two, but I 
 found the old man already hesitating and doubting 
 again : 
 
 "'You didn't tell him what it was for, did you ? for 
 perhaps ' 
 
 " ' Yes, I did. I told him you had an important secret 
 to communicate that lay heavy on your conscience.' 
 
 ** ' I'm sadly puzzled,' said the old man, musing. 
 
 " ' Well,' replied I, * I'm not puzzled ; and if you don't 
 confess, I must. I won't have my conscience loaded, poor 
 fellow that I am ; and if you choose to die with the sin 
 upon you of depriving the orphan, I will not.' 
 
 ** * I'll tell — tell it all — it's the best way,' replied old 
 Roberts, after a pause. 
 
 " * There now,' said I, * the best thing to be done is for 
 me to get paper and pen, and write it all down for Mr 
 Sewell to read when he comes ; then you need not have to 
 repeat it all again.' 
 
 ** * Yes, that will be best, for I couldn't face the clergy- 
 man.' 
 
 " * Then how can you expect to face the Almighty ? ' 
 replied I. 
 
 ** * True — very true : get the paper,' said he. 
 
 " I went to the inn and procured writing materials, and 
 then returned and took down his confession of what I have 
 now told you. Miss Valerie. When Mr Sewell came, I 
 had just finished it, and I then told him that I had written 
 it down, and handed it to him to read. Mr Sewell was 
 much surprised and shocked, and said to Roberts, * You 
 have done right to make this confession, Roberts, for it 
 may be most important ; but you must now swear to it in 
 
Valerie 135 
 
 the presence of a magistrate and me. Of course, you have 
 no objection ? ' 
 
 ** * No, sir ; I'm ready to swear to the truth of every word.' 
 
 " * Well, then, let me see. Why, there is no magistrate 
 near us just now but Sir Thomas Moystyn ; and as it con- 
 cerns his own nephew, there cannot be a more proper 
 person. I will go up to the Hall immediately, and ask 
 him to come with me to-morrow morning.' 
 
 " Mr Sewell did so ; and the next day, he and Sir 
 Thomas Moystyn came down in a phaeton, and went up to 
 old Roberts. I rather turned away, that my uncle, as he 
 now proves to be, might not, when I was regularly intro- 
 duced to him, as I hope to be, as his nephew, recognise me 
 as the sailor lad who passed off as the grandson of old 
 Roberts." 
 
 " Then, you admit that you have been playing a very 
 deceitful game ? " 
 
 '* Yes, Miss Valerie. I have a conscience ; and I admit 
 that I have been playing what may be called an unworthy 
 game ; but when it is considered how much I have at stake, 
 and how long I have been defrauded of my rights by the 
 duplicity of others, I think I may be excused if I have beat 
 them at their own weapons." 
 
 ** I admit that there is great truth in your observations, 
 Lionel ; and that is all the answer I shall give," 
 
 **I remained outside the door while old Roberts signed 
 the paper, and the oath was administered. Sir Thomas 
 put many questions afterwards. He inquired the residence 
 of his daughter, Mrs Green, and then they both went 
 away. As soon as they were gone, I went in to old 
 Roberts, and said, 
 
 " * Well now, sir, do you not feel happier that you have 
 made the confession ? ' 
 
 " * Yes,' replied he, *I do, boy; but still I am scared 
 
 when I think of Lady R and your aunt Green ; they'll 
 
 be so angry.' 
 
 " * I've been thinking that I had better go up to Mrs 
 Green,' I said, * and prepare her for it. I can pacify her, 
 
136 Valerie 
 
 I'm sure, when I explain matters. I must have gone away 
 the day after to-morrow, and I'll go up to London to- 
 morrow.' 
 
 '**"Well, perhaps it will be as well,' replied old 
 Roberts, ' and yet I wish you could stay and talk to me — 
 I've no one to talk to me now.' 
 
 "Thinks I, I have made you talk to some purpose, and 
 have no inclination to sit by your bed-side any longer ; 
 however, I kept up the appearance to the last, and the 
 next morning set off for London. I arrived three days 
 before I saw you first, which gave me time to change 
 my sailor's dress for the suit I now wear. I have not 
 yet been to Mrs Green, for I thought I would just see 
 you, and ask your advice. And now, Miss Valerie, you 
 have my whole history." 
 
 "I once more congratulate you, with all my heart," 
 replied I, offering my hand to Lionel. He kissed it 
 respectfully, and as he was in the act, one of the maids 
 
 opened the door, and told me that Lady M^ had been 
 
 some time waiting to see me. I believe I coloured up, 
 although I had no cause for blushing ; and wishing Lionel 
 good-bye, I desired him to call on Sunday afternoon, and 
 I would remain at home to see him. 
 
 It was on Thursday that this interview took place with 
 Lionel, and on the Saturday I received a letter from Lady 
 R 's solicitor, by which I was shocked by the informa- 
 tion of her ladyship having died at Caudebec, a small 
 town on the river Seine ; and begging to know whether 
 I could receive him that afternoon, as he was anxious to 
 communicate with me. I answered by the person who 
 brought the letter, that I would receive him at three 
 o'clock; and he made his appearance at the hour appointed. 
 
 He informed me that Lady R had left Havre in 
 
 a fishing boat, with the resolution of going up to Paris 
 by that strange conveyance ; and having no protection 
 from the weather, she had been wet for a whole day, 
 without changing her clothes ; and, on her arrival at 
 Caudebec, had been taken with a fever, which, from the 
 
Valerie 137 
 
 ignorance of the faculty in that sequestered place, had 
 proved fatal. Her maid had just written the intelligence, 
 enclosing the documents from the authorities substantiating 
 the fact. 
 
 '* You are not, perhaps, aware, miss, that you are left 
 her executrix." 
 
 ** I her executrix ! " exclaimed I, with astonishment. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mr Selwyn. " Before she left town, 
 she made an alteration in her will ; and stated to me that 
 you would be able to find the party most interested in it, 
 and that you had a document in your hands which would 
 explain everything." 
 
 " I have a sealed paper which she enclosed to me, 
 desiring I would not open it, unless I heard of her death, 
 or had her permission." 
 
 " It must be that to which she refers, I presume," 
 replied he. " I have the will in my pocket : it will be as 
 well to read it to you, as you are her executrix." 
 
 Mr Selwyn then produced the will, by which Lionel 
 Dempster, her nephew, was left her sole heir ; and by a 
 codicil, she had, for the love she bore me, as she stated in 
 her own handwriting, left me jQs^'^ ^s her executrix, and 
 all her jewels and wearing apparel. 
 
 " I congratulate you on your legacy. Miss de Chaten- 
 oeuf," said he ; " and now, perhaps, you can tell me where 
 I can find this nephew ; for I must say it is the first that I 
 ever heard of him." 
 
 " I believe that I can point him out, sir," replied I ; 
 " but the most important proofs, I suspect, are to be found 
 in the paper which I have not yet read." 
 
 '-* I will then, if you please, no longer trespass on you," 
 said Mr Selwyn, " when you wish me to call again, you 
 will oblige me by sending word, or writing by post." 
 
 The departure of Mr Selwyn was quite a relief to me. 
 I longed to be alone, that I might be left to my own 
 reflections, and also that I might peruse the document 
 
 which had been confided to me by poor Lady R . I 
 
 could not help feeling much shocked at her death — more 
 
138 Valerie 
 
 so, when I considered her liberality towards me, and the 
 confidence she reposed in one with whom she had but a 
 short acquaintance. It was like her, nevertheless ; who 
 
 but Lady R would ever have thought of making a 
 
 young person so unprotected and so unacquainted as I 
 was with business — a foreigner to boot — the executrix of 
 her will ; and her death occasioned by such a mad freak — 
 and Lionel now restored to his position and his fortune — 
 altogether it was overwhelming, and after a time I relieved 
 myself with tears. I was still with my handkerchief to 
 my eyes when Lady M came into the room. 
 
 " Crying, Miss Chatenoeuf," said her ladyship, '' it is at 
 the departure of a very dear friend." 
 
 There was a sort of sneer on her face as she said this ; 
 and I replied — 
 
 " Yes, my lady, it is for the departure of a dear 
 friend, for Lady R is dead." 
 
 " Mercy, you don't say so ; and what are these gentle- 
 men who have been calling upon you ? " 
 
 " One is her solicitor, madam," replied I, " and the 
 other is a relative of hers." 
 
 **A relation; but what has the solicitor called upon 
 you for ? if it is not an intrusive question." 
 
 " No, my lady ; Lady R has appointed me her 
 
 executrix." 
 
 " Executrix ! well, I now do believe that Lady R 
 
 was mad ! " exclaimed Lady M . " I wanted you to 
 
 come up to my boudoir to consult you about the pink 
 satin dress, but I fear your important avocation will not 
 allow you at present, so I will leave you till you are a 
 little recovered." 
 
 " I thank you, my lady," said I, ** I will be more myself 
 to-morrow, and will then be at your disposal." 
 
 Her ladyship then left the room. I was not pleased at 
 her manner, which was very different from her usual 
 courtesy towards me, but I was not in a state of mind to 
 weigh well all that she said, or how she said it. I hastened 
 to my room to look for the paper which Lady R had 
 
Valerie 139 
 
 enclosed to me previous to her departure. I will give the 
 whole contents to my readers. 
 
 " My dear Valerie, 
 *' I will not attempt to account for the extreme predilec- 
 tion which I, an old woman in comparison, immediately 
 imbibed for you before we had been an hour in company. 
 Some feelings are unaccountable and inexplicable, but I 
 felt a sympathy, a mesmeric attraction, if I may use the 
 term, which was uncontrollable at our first meeting, and 
 which increased every day during our residence together. 
 It was not the feeling of a mother towards a child — at least 
 I think not, for it was mingled with a certain degree of 
 awe and presentiment of evil if ever we parted again. I 
 felt as if you were my fate, and never has this feeling 
 departed from me. On the contrary, now that we 
 separate, it has become stronger than ever. How little do 
 we know of the mysteries of the mind as well as of the 
 body ! We know that we are fearfully and wonderfully 
 made, and that is all. ^hat there are influences and 
 attractions uncontrollable and unexplained I feel certain. 
 Often have I reflected and wondered on this as I have lain 
 in bed and meditated " even to madness," but have been 
 
 unable to remove the veil. (Alas, poor Lady R , 
 
 thought I, I doubt it not, you were madder than I thought 
 you were.) Imagine, then, my grief and horror when I 
 found that you were determined to leave me, dear Valerie. 
 It was to me as the sentence of death ; but I felt that I 
 could not resist ; it was my fate, and who can oppose its 
 decrees ? It would indeed have pained your young and 
 generous heart if you knew how I suflered, and still sufler 
 from your desertion ; but I considered it as a judgment on 
 me — a visitation upon me for the crimes of my early years, 
 and which I am now about to confide to you, as the only 
 person in whom I feel confidence, and that justice may be 
 done to one whom I have greatly injured. I would not 
 die without reparation, and that reparation I entrust to you, 
 as from my own pen I can explain that without which. 
 
140 Valerie 
 
 with all my good intentions towards the party, reparation 
 might be difficult. But I must first make you acquainted 
 with the cause of crime, and to do this you must hear the 
 events of my early life. 
 
 ** My father, Sir Alexander Moystyn, had four children, 
 two sons and two daughters. I was the first-born, then 
 my two brothers, and afterwards, at an interval, my sister, 
 so that there was a difference of eight years between me 
 and my sister, Ellen. Our mother died in giving birth to 
 Ellen ; we grew up ; my brothers went to Eton and college. 
 I remained the sole mistress of my father's establishment. 
 Haughty by nature, and my position, the power it gave 
 me, the respect I received — and if you will look at the 
 miniature I enclose with this, I may, without vanity, add, 
 my beauty, made me imperious and tyrannical. I had many 
 advantageous offers, which I rejected, before I was twenty 
 years of age. My power with my father was unbounded ; 
 his infirmities kept him for a long time a prisoner in his 
 room, and my word was law to him, as well as to the 
 whole household. My sister Ellen, still a child, I treated 
 with harshness — first, I beheve, because she promised to 
 rival me in good looks ; and secondly, because my father 
 showed greater affection towards her than I liked. She 
 was meek in temper, and never complained. Time past 
 — I refused many offers of marriage. I did not like to 
 resign my position for the authority of a husband, and I 
 had reached my twenty-fifth year, and my sister, Ellen, 
 was a lovely girl of seventeen, when it was fated that all 
 should be changed. * 
 
 " A Colonel Dempster came down with my eldest 
 brother, who was a captain in the same regiment of guards 
 — a more prepossessing person I never beheld, and for the 
 first time I felt that I would with pleasure give up being 
 at the head of my father's establishment to follow the 
 fortunes of another man. If my predilection was so 
 strong, I had no reason to complain of want of attention 
 on his part. He courted me in the most obsequious 
 manner, the style more suited to my haughty disposition, 
 
Valerie 141 
 
 and I at once gave way to the feelings with which he had 
 inspired me. I became fervently in love with him, and 
 valued one of his smiles more than an earthly crown. 
 Two months passed, his original invitation had been for 
 one week, and he still remained. The affair was con- 
 sidered as arranged, not only by myself, but by everybody 
 else. My father, satisfied that he was a gentleman by 
 birth, and being able to support himself by his own 
 means in so expensive a regiment, made no inquiries, 
 leaving the matter to take its own course. But, although 
 two months had passed away, and his attentions to me 
 were unremitting. Colonel Dempster had made no pro- 
 posal, which I ascribed to his awe of me, and his diffidence 
 as to his success. This rather pleased me than otherwise ; 
 but my own feelings now made me wish for the affair 
 to be decided, and I gave him every opportunity that 
 modesty and discretion would permit. I saw little of him 
 during the mornings, as he went out with his gun with 
 the other gentlemen, but in the evenings he was my 
 constant and devoted attendant. I received many con- 
 gratulations from female acquaintances (friends I had none) 
 upon my having conquered one who was supposed to be 
 invulnerable to the charms of our sex, and made no 
 disclaimer when spoken to on the subject. Every hour 
 I expected the declaration to be made, when, imagine 
 my indignation and astonishment, at being informed one 
 morning when I arose, that Colonel Dempster and my 
 sister Ellen had disappeared, and it was reported that 
 they had been seen in a carriage driving at furious 
 speed. 
 
 " It was but too true. It appeared that Colonel 
 Dempster, who had been informed by my brother of my 
 temper and disposition, and who was aware that without 
 paying court to me, his visit would not be extended, and 
 who had fallen in love with Ellen almost as soon as he 
 saw her, had practised this dissimulation towards me to 
 enable him, without my knowledge, to gain my sister's 
 affections ; that his mornings were not spent in shooting 
 
1 42 Valerie 
 
 with my brother, as was supposed, but in my sister Ellen's 
 company ; my brother, to whom he had acknowledged his 
 attachment, conniving with him to deceive me. A letter 
 from the colonel to my father, excusing himself for the 
 step he had taken, and requesting him to pardon his 
 daughter, was brought in the same morning and read 
 by me. ' Very foolish of him,' said my father ; * what is 
 the use of stealing what you may have for asking. He 
 might have had Ellen if he had spoken to me ; but I 
 always thought that he was courting you, Barbara.' 
 
 " This letter, proving the truth of the report, was too 
 much for me ; I fell down at my father's feet in a violent 
 fit, and was carried to my bed. The next day I was seized 
 with a brain fever, and it was doubtful if ever my reason 
 would return. But it did gradually, and, after a confine- 
 ment to my room of three months, I recovered both health 
 and reason ; partially, I may say, for I doubt not but that the 
 shock I then received has had a lasting effect upon me, and 
 that it has caused me to be the unsettled, restless, wander- 
 ing thing that I now am, only content when in motion, and 
 using my pen to create an artificial excitement. I believe 
 most people are a little cracked before they begin to write. 
 I will not assert that it is a proof of madness, but it is a 
 proof that a very little more would make them mad. 
 Shakespeare says * the lover, the lunatic, and the poet, are 
 of an imagination all compact.' It matters little whether 
 it is prose or poetry ; there is often more imagination and 
 more poetry in prose than in rhyme. But to proceed — 
 
 **I arose with but one feeling — that of revenge; I say 
 but one feeling, alas ! I had forgotten to mention hatred, 
 the parent of that revenge. I felt myself mortified and 
 humiHated, cruelly deceived and mocked. My love for 
 him was now turned to abhorrence, and my sister was an 
 aversion. I felt that I never could forgive her. My father 
 had not replied to the colonel's letter ; indeed, the gout in 
 his hand prevented him, or he would probably have done 
 so long before I left my room. Now that I was once 
 more at his side, he said to me. 
 
Valerie 143 
 
 " ' Barbara, I think it is high time to forgive and forget. 
 I would have answered the colonel's letter before, but I 
 could not. Now we must write and ask them to come 
 and pay us a visit.' 
 
 ** I sat down and wrote the letter, not according to his 
 dictation, which was all kindness, but stating that my 
 father would never forgive him or my sister, and requested 
 all correspondence might cease, as it would be useless. 
 
 ** * Read what you have said, Barbara.' 
 
 " I read the letter as if it was written according to his 
 wishes. 
 
 " ' That will do, dearest — they'll come back fast enough. 
 I long to have Ellen in my arms again — she was very 
 precious to me that child, for she cost the life of your dear 
 mother. I want to ask her why she ran away. I really 
 believe that it was more from fear of your anger than of 
 mine, Barbara.' 
 
 " I made no reply, but folded the letter and sealed it. 
 As I always opened the post-bag, I prevented my father 
 from ever receiving the many letters written by my poor 
 sister, imploring his forgiveness, and did all I could to 
 excite his anger against her. At last I found out from her 
 letters, that they had gone to the continent. Months 
 passed. My poor father fretted sadly at the silence of 
 Ellen, and the supposed rejection of his kind overtures. 
 His unhappy state of mind had evidently an effect upon 
 his body ; he grew weaker and more querulous every day. 
 At last a letter arrived from Ellen, which I now blush to 
 say, gave me inexpressible joy. It announced the death 
 of her husband — a trifling wound on the thumb having 
 terminated in locked-jaw and death. 
 
 " ' He is dead, then,' thought I ; ' if I lost him, she has 
 no longer possession of him.' 
 
 " Alas ! what a demon had taken possession of me ! 
 The letter further said, that she was coming over directly, 
 and that she expected to be shortly confined. This letter 
 was addressed to me, and not to my father. The death of 
 her husband did not diminish my hatred against my sister ; 
 
144 Valerie 
 
 on the contrary, I felt as if I had her now in my power, 
 and that my revenge upon her was about to be accom- 
 plished. After meditating upon what course I should 
 pursue, I determined to write to her. I did so, stating 
 that my father's anger was not to be appeased ; that I had 
 tried all I could to soften his wrath, but in vain ; that he 
 was growing weaker every day, and I thought her rash 
 conduct had been the cause of it ; that I did not think that 
 he could last much longer, and I would make another 
 appeal to him in her favour, which the death of her 
 husband would probably occasion to be more successful. 
 
 ** In a fortnight I had a reply, in which my poor sister 
 invoked blessings on my head for my supposed kindness, 
 and told me that she was in England, and expected every 
 hour to be confined ; that she was ill in body and in spirits, 
 and did not think that she could get over it. She begged 
 me, by the remembrance of our mother, who died giving 
 her birth, that I would come to her. Surely I might have 
 forgiven my enmity after all that the poor girl had suffered ; 
 but my heart was steeled. 
 
 " On consideration, I now thought proper to tell my 
 father that Colonel Dempster was dead, and my sister 
 returned to England, adding her request that I would 
 attend her in her confinement, and my willingness so to do. 
 My poor father was much shocked, and begged me in a 
 tremulous voice to set off immediately. I promised so to 
 do, but requested that he would not say a word to anyone 
 as to the cause of my absence until he heard from me, as 
 it would occasion much talk among the servants, and 
 perhaps ill-natured remarks might be made. He promised, 
 and I departed, with a maid who had been my nurse, and 
 upon whose secrecy I thought I could rely. What my 
 intentions were, I can hardly say ; all I knew was, that my 
 revenge was not satiated, and I would leave no opportunity 
 of wreaking it that offered. 
 
 *' I found my sister in the very pangs of labour, heart- 
 broken at the supposed resentment of my father, and his 
 refusal of his forgiveness. I did not alleviate her misery 
 
Valerie 1 45 
 
 by telling her the truth, which I might have done. I was 
 indeed a demon, or possessed by one. 
 
 ** She died giving birth to a boy. I then felt sorrow, 
 until I looked at the child, and saw that it was the image 
 of the colonel — the man who had caused me such misery. 
 Again my passions were roused, and I vowed that the 
 child should never know his father. I made my maid 
 believe that the lady I visited was an old school-fellow, 
 and never mentioned my sister's name, at least I thought 
 so at the time, but I afterwards found that I had not 
 deceived her. I persuaded her to take the child to her 
 father's, saying that I had promised my friend on her 
 death-bed that I would take care of it, but that it must be 
 a secret, or invidious remarks would be made. I then 
 returned to Culverwood Hall, dropping my nurse and 
 the child on my way, and reported to my father my sister's 
 death, of course concealing that the child was living. Sir 
 Alexander was much affected, and wept bitterly ; indeed, 
 from that day he rapidly declined. 
 
 " I had now satiated my revenge, and was sorry when I 
 had done so. Until then I had been kept up by excite- 
 ment, now all excitement was over, and I had time for 
 reflection , I was miserable, and in a state of constant 
 warfare with my conscience ; but, in vain, the more I 
 reflected, the more I was dissatisfied with myself, and 
 would have given worlds that I could recall what I had 
 done. 
 
 "At this time. Sir Richard R came down on a 
 
 visit. He admired me, proposed, and was accepted, 
 chiefly that I might remove from the hall, than for any 
 other cause. I thought that new scenes and change of 
 place would make me forget, but I was sadly mistaken. 
 I went away with my husband, and as soon as I was 
 away, I was in a constant fright lest my nurse should 
 betray me to my father, and begged Sir Richard to shorten 
 his intended tour and allow me to return to the hall, as 
 the accounts of my father's health were alarming. My 
 husband consented, and I had not been at the hall more 
 
 V K 
 
146 Valerie 
 
 than a fortnight, when my father's death relieved me from 
 further anxiety on that score. 
 
 " Another fear now possessed me ; I saw by my father's 
 will that he had left ^^5,000 to me, and also to my sister, 
 in case of one dying, the survivor to have both sums, but 
 the same cause of alarm was in my great aunt's will. My 
 great aunt had left ^10,000 to me, and ^10,000 to my 
 sister Ellen, to be settled upon us at our marriage, and 
 in case of either dying without issue, the survivor to be 
 legatee. Thus in two instances, by concealing the birth 
 of the child, I was depriving it of its property, and obtain- 
 ing it for myself. That I was ignorant of these points is 
 certain, and unfortunate it was that it was so, for had I 
 known it, I would not have dared to conceal the birth 
 of the child, lest I should have been accused of having 
 done so for pecuniary considerations, and I well knew, 
 that if betrayed by my nurse, such would be the accusa- 
 tion made against me. I would willingly even now, have 
 acknowledged the child as my nephew, but knew not how 
 to do so, as my husband had possession of the money, 
 and I dared not confess the crime that I had been guilty 
 of. If ever retribution fell upon any one, it fell upon 
 me. My life was one of perfect misery, and when I 
 found that my nurse and her father objected to keeping 
 the secret any longer, I thought I should have gone dis- 
 tracted. I pointed out to them the ruin they would entail 
 upon me, and gave my solemn promise that I would see 
 justice done to the child. This satisfied them. For 
 several years I lived an unhappy life with my husband, 
 until I was at last relieved by his death. You may ask 
 how it was that I did not acknowledge the child at his 
 death •, the fact was, that I was afraid. I had put him 
 to school, and he was then twelve or thirteen years old. 
 I removed him to my own house, with the intention of 
 so doing, and because my nurse and her father reminded 
 me of my promise ; but when he was in my house, I 
 could not see my way, or how I could tell the story 
 without acknowledging my guilt, and this pride prevented. 
 
Valerie 1 47 
 
 " I remained thus irresolute, every day putting off the 
 confession, till the boy, from first being allowed to remain 
 in the drawing-room, sank down into the kitchen. Yes, 
 Valerie, Lionel, the page, the lacquey, is Lionel Dempster, 
 my nephew. I said that I could not bear to make the 
 avowal, and such is the case. At last I satisfied myself 
 that what I did was for the boy's good. Alas ! how easy 
 we satisfy ourselves when it suits our views. I had left 
 him my property, I had educated him, and I said, by being 
 brought up in a humble position, he will be cured of 
 pride, and will make a better man. Bad reasoning, I 
 acknowledge. 
 
 '' Valerie, I have left you my executrix, for even after 
 my death I would as much as possible avoid exposure. I 
 would not be the tale of the town, even for a fortnight, 
 and it certainly will not help Lionel, when it is known to 
 all the world that he has served as a footman. My 
 solicitor knows not who my nephew is, but is referred to 
 you to produce him. In a small tin box in the closet of 
 my bedroom, you will find all the papers necessary for 
 his identification, and also the names and residence of the 
 parties who have been my accomplices in this deed ; also 
 all the intercepted letters of my poor sister's. You must 
 be aware that Lionel is not only entitled to the property I 
 have left him, but also to his father's property, which, in 
 default of heirs, passed away to others. Consult with my 
 solicitor to take such steps as are requisite, without incul- 
 pating me more than is necessary ; but if required, let all 
 be known to my shame, rather than the lad should not be 
 put in possession of his rights. 
 
 **' You will, I am afraid, hate my memory after this 
 sad disclosure ; but in my extenuation recall to mind 
 how madly I loved, how cruelly I was deceived. 
 Remember, also, that if not insane, I was little better 
 at the time I was so criminal •, and may it prove to you 
 a lesson how difficult it is, when once you have stepped 
 aside into the path of error ever to recover the right 
 track. 
 
148 Valerie 
 
 ** You now know all my sufferings, all my crimes. 
 You now know why I have been, not without truth, 
 considered as a person eccentric to folly, and occasionally 
 on the verge of madness. Forgive me and pity me, for 
 I have indeed been sufficiently punished by an ever 
 torturing conscience ! 
 
 " Barbara R ." 
 
 Chapter IX 
 
 I PUT the papers down on the table as soon as I had 
 finished them, and for a long while was absorbed in 
 meditation. 
 
 "Is it possible," thought I, " that love disappointed 
 can turn to such fury — can so harden the heart to all 
 better feelings — induce a woman to shorten the days of 
 her parent — to allow a sister to remain in painful error 
 on her death-bed, and wreak vengeance upon an innocent 
 being, regardless of all justice ? Grant, then, that I may 
 never yield to such a passion ! Who would have ever 
 
 imagined, that the careless, eccentric Lady R had 
 
 such a load of crime weighing her down, and daily and 
 hourly reminded of it by the presence of the injured 
 party ? How callous she must have become by habit, 
 to still delay doing an act of justice — how strange that 
 the fear of the world and its opinion should be greater 
 than the fear of God ! " 
 
 This last remark proved how little I yet knew of the 
 world, and then my thoughts went in a different direction. 
 As I have already said, I had been brought up as a 
 Catholic ; but, after my grandmother's death, I had little 
 encouragement or example shown me in religious duties. 
 Now, having been more than two years in England, and 
 continually with Protestants, I had gone to the established 
 Protestant church with those I resided with at first ; 
 because I considered it better to go to that church. 
 
Valerie 1^9 
 
 although I knew it to be somewhat at variance with my 
 own, rather than go to no church at all, and by habit I 
 was gradually inclining to Protestantism j but now the 
 
 idea came across my mind, if Lady R had confessed 
 
 as we Catholics do, this secret could not have been kept 
 so long ; and, if she withheld herself from the con- 
 fessional, had her agents been Catholics, the secret would 
 have been divulged to the priest by them, and justice 
 would have been done to Lionel ; and, having made this 
 reflection, I felt as it were, that I was again a sincere 
 Catholic. 
 
 After a little more reflection, I put away the papers, 
 wrote a letter to Mr Selwyn, the solicitor, requesting that 
 he would call upon me the following morning, and then 
 went down to Lady M . 
 
 " I suppose that we shall not have much of the pleasure 
 of your company. Miss de Chatenoeuf," said her ladyship, 
 " now that you have such a novel occupation ? " 
 
 "It is a very distressing one," replied I, " and I wish 
 
 Lady R had not paid me such a compliment. Might 
 
 I trespass upon your ladyship's kindness to request the 
 loan of the carriage for half-an-hour to obtain some papers 
 from Lady R 's house in Baker Street ? " 
 
 ** Oh, certainly," replied her ladyship. " Pray have you 
 seen Lady R 's will ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " And how has she disposed of her property ? " 
 
 *' She has left it all to her nephew. Lady M ." 
 
 " Nephew ! I never heard her speak of a nephew 
 before. Sir Richard had no nephews or nieces, for he 
 was an only son, and the title has now gone into the 
 Vivian branch, and I never heard of her having a nephew. 
 And what has she left you, mademoiselle, if it is not 
 asking too much ? " 
 
 " Lady R has left me ;^5oo, my lady." 
 
 " Indeed ! well then, she pays you for your trouble. 
 But really, Miss de Chatenoeuf, I do wish you could put 
 off this business until after the marriages. I am so hurried 
 
1 50 Valerie 
 
 and worried that I really do not know which way to turn, 
 and really I have felt your loss these last two days more 
 than you can imagine. You are so clever, and have so 
 much taste, that we cannot get on without you. It's all 
 your own fault," continued her ladyship, playfully, " you 
 are so good-natured, and have made us so dependent upon 
 you, that we cannot let you off now. Nothing in the 
 trousseaux is approved of, unless stamped by the taste of 
 Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf. Now, a week 
 cannot make a great difference, and lawyers love delay : 
 
 will you oblige me, therefore, by leaving Lady R 's 
 
 affairs for the present ? " 
 
 " Certainly, Lady M ," replied L "I will stop a 
 
 letter I was about to send to her solicitor, and write 
 another to the effect you wish, and I will not repeat my 
 request for the carriage until after the marriages have 
 taken place." 
 
 *' Many thanks," replied her ladyship, and I went out, 
 took my letter from the hall table, and wrote another to 
 Mr Selwyn, stating that I could not enter into any business 
 until the following week, when I should be prepared to 
 receive him. 
 
 I wrote another to the same effect to Lionel, requesting 
 him not to call again, but that I would write and let him 
 know where to meet me as soon as I was more at leisure. 
 
 Indeed I was glad that Lady M had made the request, 
 
 as the trouble and chattering and happy faces which were 
 surrounding the trousseaux, and the constant employment 
 and appeals made to me, drove away the melancholy 
 which Lady R 's affairs had occasioned me. I suc- 
 ceeded to a great degree in recovering my spirits, and 
 exerted myself to my utmost, so that everything was 
 complete and satisfactory to all parties two days before 
 the wedding was to take place. 
 
 At last, the morning came. The brides were dressed 
 and went down into the drawing-room, frightened and 
 perplexed, but their tears had been shed above. The 
 procession of carriages moved on to Hanover Square ; 
 
Valerie 1 5 1 
 
 there was a bishop of course, and the church was filled 
 with gay and tastefully-dressed women. The ceremony 
 was performed, and the brides were led into the vestry- 
 room to recover, and receive kisses and congratulations. 
 Then came the banquet, which nobody hardly tasted 
 except the bishop, who had joined too many couples in his 
 lifetime to have his appetite at all aifected by the ceremony, 
 and some two or three others who were old stagers on the 
 road of life, and who cared little whether it was a wedding- 
 breakfast, or refreshments after a funeral. 
 
 At last, after a most silent entertainment, the brides 
 retired to change their dresses, and, when they re-appeared, 
 they were handed into the carriages of their respective 
 bridegrooms as soon as they could be torn away from the 
 
 kisses and tears of Lady M , who played the part of a 
 
 bereaved mother to perfection. No one to have seen her 
 then, raving like another Niobe, would have imagined that 
 all her thoughts and endeavours and manoeuvres, for the 
 last three years, had been devoted to the sole view of 
 getting them off; but Lady M — — was a perfect actress, 
 and this last scene was well got up. 
 
 As her daughters were led down to the carriages, I 
 thought that she was going to faint ; but it appeared, on 
 second thoughts, that she wished first to see the girls 
 depart in their gay equipages ; she therefore tottered to 
 the window, saw them get in, looked at Newman's grays 
 and gay postillions — at the white and silver favours — the 
 dandy valet and smart lady's-maid in each rumble. She 
 saw them start at a rattling pace, watched them till they 
 turned the corner of the square, and then — and not till 
 then — fell senseless in my arms, and was carried by the 
 attendants into her own room. 
 
 After all, the poor woman must have been very much 
 worn out, for she had been for the last six weeks in a con- 
 tinual worry lest any contre-temps should happen, which 
 might have stopped or delayed the happy consummation. 
 
 The next morning her ladyship did not leave her room, 
 but sent word down that the carriage was at my service •, 
 
152 Valerie 
 
 but I was fatigued and worn out, and declined it for that 
 day. I wrote to Lionel and to Mr Selwyn, desiring them 
 to meet me in Baker Street, at two o'clock the next day ; 
 and then passed the day quietly, in company with Amy, 
 
 the third daughter of Lady M , whom I have before 
 
 mentioned. She was a very sweet, unaffected girl ; and I 
 was more partial to her than to her sisters, who had been 
 just married. I had paid great attention to her, for she 
 had a fine voice, and did credit to my teaching, and there 
 was a great intimacy between us, arising on my part from 
 my admiration of her ingenuous and amiable disposition, 
 which even her mother's example to the contrary could 
 not spoil. 
 
 After some conversation relative to her sisters and their 
 husbands, she said, 
 
 ** I hardly know what to do, Valerie. I love you too 
 well to be a party to your being ill-treated, and yet I fear 
 that you will be pained if I tell you what I have heard 
 about you. I know also that you will not stay, if I do tell 
 you, and that will give me great pain ; but that is a selfish 
 feeling which I could overcome. What I do not like is 
 hurting your feelings. Now, tell me candidly, ought I to 
 tell you, or not ? " 
 
 " I will give you my opinion candidly," replied I. 
 " You have said too little or too much. You speak of my 
 being ill-treated ; certainly, I should wish to guard against 
 that, although I cannot imagine who is my enemy." 
 
 "Had I not heard it, I could not have believed it 
 either," replied she. " I thought that you had come here 
 on a visit as a friend j but what makes me think that I 
 ought to tell you is, that there will be something said 
 against your character, which I am sure must be false." 
 
 " Now, indeed, I must request that you will tell me 
 everything, and soften nothing down, but tell me the 
 whole truth. Who is it that intends to attack my 
 character ? " 
 
 " I am sorry — very sorry to say, it is mamma," replied 
 she, wiping away a tear. 
 
Valerie 153 
 
 " Lady M ! " exclaimed I. 
 
 " Yes," replied she ♦, " but now you must listen to all 
 I have to say. I am sure that I am doing right in telling 
 you, and therefore nothing shall prevent me. I love my 
 mother — what a sad thing it is that I cannot respect her ! 
 I was in the dressing-room, when my mother was lying on 
 the sofa in her bedroom this morning, when her great 
 friend, Mrs Germane, came up. She sat talking with my 
 mother for some time, and they appeared either to forget 
 or not to care if I heard them ; for at last your name was 
 mentioned. 
 
 " 'Well, she does dress you and your girls beautifully, 
 I must say,' said Mrs Germane. * Who is she ? They say 
 that she is of a good family ; and how came she to live 
 with you as a milliner ? ' 
 
 " ' My dear Mrs Germane, that she does live with me 
 as a milliner is true, and it was for that reason only I 
 invited her to the house ; but she is not aware that I 
 retain her in that capacity. She is, I understand from 
 Mrs Bathurst, of a noble family in France, thrown upon 
 the world by circumstances, very talented, and very proud. 
 Her extreme taste in dress I discovered when she was 
 living with Mrs Bathurst ; and, when I found that she 
 
 was about, through my management, to leave Lady R , 
 
 I invited her here as a sort of friend, and to stay with my 
 daughters — not a word did I mention about millinery ; I 
 had too much tact for that. Even when her services were 
 required, I made it appear as her own offer, and expressed 
 my thanks for her condescension, and since that, by flattery 
 and management, she has continued to dress my daughters for 
 me J and, I must say, that I do believe it has been owing to her 
 exquisite taste that my daughters have gone off so well.' 
 
 "'Well, you have managed admirably,' replied Mrs 
 
 Germane -, * but, my dear Lady M , what will you do 
 
 with her now ? ' 
 
 " ' Oh,' replied Lady M , * as Amy will now come 
 
 out, I shall retain her in my employ until she is disposed 
 of ; and then — ' 
 
154 Valerie 
 
 " * Yes, then will be the difficulty,' replied Mrs 
 Germane ; * after having allowed her to live so long 
 with you as a visitor, I may say, how will you get rid of 
 her ? ' 
 
 " * Why, I was puzzling myself about that, and partly 
 decided that it should be done by mortifying her, and 
 wounding her feelings, for she is very proud ; but, 
 fortunately, I have found out something which I shall keep 
 to myself, until the time comes, and then I can dismiss her 
 at a moment's warning.' 
 
 " * Indeed ! ' said Mrs Germane, * what could you have 
 found out ? ' 
 
 " * Well, I will tell you ; but you must not mention it 
 again. My maid entered the room the other day, when 
 mademoiselle was receiving a young man who called upon 
 her, and she found them kissing,' 
 
 " * You don't say so ! ' 
 
 ** ' Yes, a kiss was given, and my maid saw it. Now, I 
 can easily make it appear that my maid never mentioned it 
 to me till the time that it may be convenient to make use 
 of it, and then I can send her away ; and if any questions 
 are asked, hint at a little impropriety of conduct.' 
 
 " * And very properly too,' replied Mrs Germane. * Had 
 I not better hint a little beforehand to prepare people ? ' 
 
 "*Why, it may be as well, perhaps; but be cautious, 
 very cautious, my dear Mrs Germane.' 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf, I am sorry that I am 
 obliged, in doing my duty to you, to expose mamma," said 
 Amy, rising up from her chair ; " but I am sure that you 
 could not be guilty of any impropriety, and I will not allow 
 you to be accused of it, if it is to be prevented." 
 
 " Many thanks," replied I. " My dear Amy, you have 
 behaved like a kind friend. I have only, in duty to myself, 
 to clear up the charge against me, of impropriety. You 
 must not imagine me guilty of that. It is true that your 
 mother's maid did come in when a young lad of seventeen, 
 who was grateful to me for the interest I took in his wel- 
 fare, and who was taking leave of me at the time, did raise 
 
Valerie 155 
 
 my hand to his lips and kiss it, and, had he done so before 
 your mother, I should not have prevented it. This was 
 the kiss which, as your mother asserts, passed between us, 
 and this is the only impropriety that took place. Oh, what 
 a sad, treacherous, selfish, wicked world this is ! " cried I, 
 throwing myself on the sofa, and bursting into tears. 
 
 Amy was making every attempt to console me, and 
 blaming herself for having made the communication, when 
 Lady M came downstairs into the room. 
 
 ** What is all this — what a scene ! " exclaimed she. 
 " Mademoiselle de Chatenceuf, have you had any bad 
 news ? " 
 
 ** Yes, my lady," replied I, "so bad that I am under the 
 necessity of leaving you directly." 
 
 " Indeed ! may I inquire what has happened ? " 
 
 " No, my lady, it is not in my power to tell you. I 
 have only to repeat, that I must, with your permission, 
 leave this house to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Well, mademoiselle," replied her ladyship, " I do not 
 want to pry into your secrets, but this I must say, that 
 where there is concealment, there must be wrong ; but I 
 have lately discovered so much, that I do not wonder at 
 concealment — nor am I, indeed, surprised at your wish to 
 leave me." 
 
 ** Lady M ," replied I, haughtily, " I have never 
 
 done anything during the time that I have been under your 
 roof which I have to blush for— nor indeed anything that 
 requires concealment. This I can proudly say. If I con- 
 ceal now, it is to spare others, and, I may add, to spare 
 you. Do not oblige me to say more in presence of your 
 daughter. It will be sufficient for me to hint to you, that 
 I am now aware why I was invited to your house, and 
 what are your plans for dismissing me when it suits 
 you." 
 
 " Eaves-dropping, then, is a portion of your character, 
 
 mademoiselle," cried Lady M , colouring up to the 
 
 temples. 
 
 " No, madam, such is not the case, and that is all the 
 
1^6 Valerie 
 
 answer I shall give ; it is sufficient for you that you are 
 exposed, and I do not envy your present feelings. I have 
 only to repeat, that I shall leave this house to-morrow 
 morning, and I will not further trouble your ladyship with 
 my company." 
 
 I then walked out of the room, and as I passed Lady 
 
 M , and observed her confusion and vexation, I felt 
 
 that it was she who was humiliated, and not me. I went 
 up to my room and commenced my preparations for 
 immediate departure, and had been more than an hour 
 busy in packing up, when Amy came into my room. 
 
 " Oh, Valerie, how sorry I am— but you have behaved 
 just as I think that you ought to have done ; and how very 
 kind of you not to say that I told you. My mother was 
 so angry after you left ; said that the maids must have 
 been listening, and declares she will give them all 
 warning ; but I know that she will not do that. She 
 spoke about your meeting a young man, and kissing going 
 on ; but you have already explained all that." 
 
 " Amy," replied I, " after I am gone, take an opportunity 
 
 of saying to Lady M , that you mentioned this to me, 
 
 and tell her that my reply was, if Lady M knew who 
 
 that young man was, how he is connected, and how large 
 a fortune he will inherit, she would be very glad to see 
 him kiss one of her daughter's hands with a different 
 feeling from that which induced him to kiss mine." 
 
 " I will, depend upon it," said Amy, " and then mamma 
 will think that she has lost a good husband for me." 
 
 "She will meet him some of these days," replied I; 
 " and what is more, he will defend me from any attack 
 made on that score." 
 
 "I will tell her that, also," said Amy, "it will make 
 her careful of what she says." 
 
 One of the servants then knocked at the door, and said, 
 that Lady M wished to see Miss Amy. 
 
 " Wish me good-bye now," said I, " for you may not 
 be permitted to see me again." 
 
 The dear girl embraced me cordially, and, with tears in 
 
 I 
 
Valerie 157 
 
 her eyes, left the room. I remained till I had finished 
 packing, and then sat down. Shortly afterwards her 
 ladyship's maid came in, and delivered me an envelope from 
 her ladyship, enclosing the salary due to me, with Lady 
 M 's compliments written outside. 
 
 I saw no more of Lady M or her daughter that 
 
 evening. I went to bed, and, as in my former changes, I 
 reflected what steps I should take. As for the treatment 
 I had received, I was now to a certain degree hardened to 
 it, and my feelings certainly were not so acute as when, 
 the first time, I had received a lesson of what I might 
 expect through life from the heartlessness and selfishness 
 of the world ; but in the present case there was a difficulty 
 which did not exist in the former — I was going away 
 without knowing where I was to go. After a little 
 thought, I determined that I would seek Madame Gironac, 
 and ascertain whether she could not receive me until I had 
 decided upon my future plans. 
 
 My thoughts then recurred to other points. I recol- 
 lected that I had to meet Mr Selwyn and Lionel in Baker 
 Street, and I resolved that I would go there with my 
 effects early the next morning and leave them in charge of 
 the cook, who was taking care of the house. I calculated 
 also the money that I had in possession and in prospect. 
 I had such a good stock of clothes when I came to 
 England with Madame Bathurst, that I had no occasion, 
 during the two years and more that I had now been in 
 England, to make any purchases of consequence — indeed, 
 I had not expended more than the twenty pounds I had 
 brought with me. I had received some few presents from 
 
 Lady M and Madame Bathurst, and a great many 
 
 from Lady R . Altogether, I calculated that I had 
 
 about two hundred and sixty pounds in my desk, for Lady 
 
 R had given me one hundred pounds for only a 
 
 portion of the year ; then there was the five hundred 
 pounds which she had left me, besides her wearing apparel 
 and trinkets, which last I knew to be of value. It was a 
 little fortune to one in my position, and I resolved to con- 
 
158 Valerie 
 
 suit Mr Selwyn as to the best way of disposing of it. 
 Having wound up my meditations with the most agreeable 
 portion of them, I fell asleep, and in the morning woke up 
 refreshed. 
 
 Lady M 's maid, who had always been partial to me, 
 
 for I had taught her many things valuable to a lady's-maid, 
 came in early, and said that she knew that I was going 
 away, which she regretted very much. I replied that I 
 should leave as soon as possible, but I wanted some break- 
 fast. This she brought up to my room. 
 
 I had not finished when Amy came in the room and said, 
 " I have permission to come and wish you good-bye, 
 Valerie. I told mamma what you said about the person 
 who was seen to kiss your hand. She acknowledges now 
 that it was your hand that was kissed, and she was so 
 astonished, for she knows that you never tell stories ; and, 
 what do you think, she desired me to find out what was 
 the young gentleman's name that had so large a fortune. 
 I said I would if I could, and so I will, by asking you out- 
 right, not by any other means. I don't want to know his 
 name," continued she, laughing, " but I'm sure mamma 
 has in her mind fixed upon him for a husband for me, and 
 would now give the world that you were not going away, 
 that through you he might be introduced to her." 
 
 " I cannot tell you, my dear," replied I. " I am not at 
 liberty to mention it at present, otherwise I would with 
 pleasure. I am going now. May God bless you, my 
 dearest, and may you always continue to be the same frank 
 and amiable creature that you are now ! I leave you with 
 regret, and I pray earnestly for your happiness. You have 
 made me very happy by telling me that your mamma 
 acknowledges that it was my hand that was kissed, after 
 that, she will hardly attempt to injure me, as she proposed." 
 
 " Oh no, Valerie, I think she is afraid to do so now. 
 This young man of fortune has made her think differently. 
 He would, of course, protect you from slander, and expose 
 her, if she attempted it. Then, good-bye." 
 
 We embraced, and then I ordered a hackney coach to be 
 
Valerie 159 
 
 called, and drove with my luggage to Baker Street. The 
 cook welcomed me, saying that she expected my coming, 
 
 as Mr Selwyn had called to tell her of Lady R 's death, 
 
 and that when she asked to whom she was to look 
 for her wages, he had told her that I was the person who 
 was to settle all her ladyship's affairs, as everything was 
 left on my hands. She showed me a letter from Martha, 
 
 Lady R 's maid, by which I found that they would 
 
 probably arrive in Baker Street that very day, with all her 
 ladyship's effects. 
 
 ** I suppose you will sleep here, miss ? " said the cook, 
 " I have aired your bed, and your room is all ready." 
 
 I replied that I wished to do so for a night or two, at 
 all events, as I had a good deal to attend to, but that Mr 
 Selwyn would call at one o'clock, and that I would speak 
 to him on the subject. 
 
 I had requested Lionel to call at twelve, an hour 
 previous to Mr Selwyn, that I might make him acquainted 
 
 with the contents of Lady R 's papers addressed to 
 
 me. He was punctual to the time, and I shook hands 
 with him, saying, " Lionel, I congratulate you, at now 
 
 having proofs of your being the nephew of Lady R , 
 
 and also at her having left you considerable property. 
 You will be surprised to hear that she has appointed me 
 her executrix." 
 
 " I am not at all surprised," replied Lionel ; " I am sure 
 she has done a wise thing at last." 
 
 " That is more than I am," replied I, " but I appreciate 
 the compliment. But, Lionel, there is no time to be lost, 
 as Mr Selwyn, the lawyer, is coming here at one o'clock, 
 
 and before he comes I wish you to read over Lady R 's 
 
 confession, if I may so call it, which will explain the 
 motives of her conduct towards you. I am afraid that 
 it will not extenuate her conduct, but recollect that she 
 has now made all the reparation in her power, and that 
 we must forgive as we hope to be forgiven. Sit down 
 and read these papers, while I unpack one or two of my 
 boxes upstairs." 
 
1 60 Valerie 
 
 " The last time that we were here, I corded them up 
 for you. Miss Valerie ; I hope that you will allow me 
 to assist you again." 
 
 " Thank you, but you will have no time to read what 
 
 Lady R has said, and the cook and I can manage 
 
 without you." 
 
 I then left the room and went upstairs. I was still 
 busy in my room when a knock at the street door 
 announced the arrival of Mr Selwyn, and I went down 
 into the drawing-room to meet him. I asked Lionel, 
 who was walking up and down the room, whether he 
 had finished the papers, and he replied by a nod of the 
 head. The poor lad appeared very miserable, but Mr 
 Selwyn entered, and I could not say more to him. 
 
 ^' I hope I have not kept you waiting. Mademoiselle 
 "de Chatenoeuf," said he. 
 
 "No, indeed. I came here at ten o'clock, for I have 
 
 left Lady M , and I may as well ask at once whether 
 
 there is any objection to my taking a bed in this house 
 for a few nights ? " 
 
 "Objection! Why, mademoiselle, you are sole 
 executrix, and everything is at present yours in fact, for 
 the time. You have, therefore, a right to take possession 
 until he appears, and the will is proved." 
 
 " The hero is before you, Mr Selwyn. Allow me to 
 introduce you to Mr Lionel Dempster, the nephew of 
 Lady R ." 
 
 Mr Selwyn bowed to Lionel, and congratulated him 
 upon his accession to the property. 
 
 Lionel returned the salute, and then said, "Mademoiselle 
 de Chatenoeuf I am convinced that in this case Mr Selwyn 
 must have been made a party to all that has occurred. 
 The reading of these papers has rather disturbed me, and 
 it would be painful to me to hear everything repeated 
 in my presence. With your permission, I will walk 
 out for an hour, and leave you to explain everything to 
 Mr Selwyn, for I am sure that I shall need his advice. 
 Here is the confession of old Roberts which I shall 
 
Valerie i6i 
 
 leave for his perusal. Good morning, then, for the 
 present." 
 
 So saying, Lionel took up his hat and quitted the 
 room. 
 
 ** He is a very prepossessing young man," observed Mr 
 Selwyn. ** What a fine eye he has ! " 
 
 " Yes," replied I, " and now that he has .so large a 
 property, others will find out that he is a prepossessing 
 young man with fine eyes ; but sit down, Mr Selwyn, for 
 you have to listen to a very strange narrative." 
 
 When he had finished it, he laid it down on the table, 
 saying, "This is perhaps the strangest history that has 
 ever come to my knowledge during thirty years of 
 practice. And so she brought him up as a footman. I 
 now recognise him again as the lad who has so often 
 opened the door for me, but I confess I never should have 
 done so if I had not heard what you have now communi- 
 cated." 
 
 " He was always much above his position," replied L 
 "He is very clever and very amusing ; at least I found 
 him so when he served me in his menial capacity, and 
 certainly was much more intimate with him than I ever 
 thought I could be with a servant. At all events, his 
 education has not been neglected." 
 
 " Strange ! very strange ! " observed Mr Selwyn, " this 
 is a curious world ; but I fear that his history cannot be 
 kept altogether a secret, for you must recollect, made-- 
 moiselle, that his father's property must be claimed, and 
 no doubt it will be disputed. I must go to Doctor's 
 Commons and search out the will at once of Colonel 
 Dempster ; he intends, as I presume he does by what he 
 said just now, to employ me. After all, it will, if known, 
 be but a nine days' wonder, and do him no harm, for he 
 proves his birth by his appearance, and his breeding is so 
 innate as to have conquered all his disadvantages." 
 
 "When I knew him as a servant, I thought him an 
 intelligent and witty lad, but I never could have believed 
 that he would have become so improved in such a short 
 
 V L 
 
1 62 Valerie 
 
 time : not only his manners, but his language is so 
 difFerent." 
 
 " It was in him," replied Mr Selwyn ; "as a domestic 
 the manners and language of a gentleman would have been 
 out of place, and he did not attempt them ; now that he 
 knows his position, he has called them forth. "We must 
 find out this Mrs Green, and have her testimony as soon 
 as possible. Of course, after the deposition of old 
 Roberts, Sir Thomas Moystyn will not be surprised when 
 
 I communicate to him the confession of Lady R , 
 
 and the disposition of her property. In fact, the only 
 difficulty will be in the recovery of the property of his 
 father. Colonel Dempster, and — " 
 
 A knock at the street door announced the return of 
 Lionel. When he entered the room, Mr Selwyn said, 
 
 " Mr Dempster, that you are the nephew of Lady R , 
 
 to whom she has bequeathed her property, and what was 
 your own, is sufficiently established in my opinion. I will, 
 therefore, with your permission, read her ladyship's will." 
 
 Lionel took a seat, and the will was read. When it was 
 finished, Mr Selwyn said, 
 
 ** Having been Lady R 's legal adviser for many 
 
 years I am able to tell you, within a trifle, what property 
 you will receive. There are ^^57,000 three per cents ; 
 this house and furniture, which I purchased the lease of 
 for her, and which is only saddled with a ground-rent for 
 the next forty years; and I find, a balance of ^T2oo at 
 the banker's. Your father's property, Mr Dempster, of 
 course, I know nothing about, but will ascertain this 
 to-morrow by going to Doctors' Commons. I think I 
 may venture to assure the executrix, that she will run no 
 risk in allowing you to take any sum of money you may 
 require from the balance in the bank, as soon as the will is 
 proved, which had better be done to-morrow, if it suits 
 Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf." 
 
 " Certainly," replied I ; ** I am anxious to get rid of my 
 trust as soon as possible, and give Mr Dempster possession. 
 There is a tin box of papers, Mr Selwyn, which I cannot 
 
Valerie 163 
 
 get at till the return of Lady R 's maid,' as the keys are 
 
 with Lady R 's effects which she is bringing home 
 
 with her." 
 
 " Yes, they will no doubt be important," replied Mr 
 Selwyn : ** and now, Mr Dempster, if you are in want of 
 any ready cash, I shall be your banker with pleasure till 
 you can have possession of your own." 
 
 " I thank you, sir, I am not in want of any," replied 
 Lionel, " for the present •, but, as soon as I may be per- 
 mitted to have money from the bank I shall be glad, as it 
 is not my intention to remain in England." 
 
 '* Indeed ! " exclaimed L 
 
 ** No, Mademoiselle Valerie," said Lionel. " I am but 
 too well aware of many deficiencies which must arise from 
 the position I have been so long in, not to wish to remedy 
 them as soon as possible, and, before I appear as the heir 
 
 of Lady R , it is my intention, as soon as I can, to go 
 
 to Paris, and remain there for two years, or, perhaps, until 
 I am of age ; and I think in that time to improve myself, 
 and make myself more what the son of Colonel Dempster 
 should be. I am young yet, and capable of instruction." 
 
 " You propose a very proper step, Mr Dempster," said 
 Mr Selwyn ; " and during your absence all legal pro- 
 ceedings will be over, and, if the whole affair is made 
 public, it will be forgotten again by the time that you 
 propose to return. I am sure that the executrix will be 
 most happy to forward such very judicious arrangements. 
 I will now take my leave, and beg Mademoiselle de 
 Chatenceuf to meet me at Doctors' Commons at three 
 o'clock to-morrow ; that will give me time to look for 
 Colonel Dempster's will. Good morning, mademoiselle ; 
 good morning, Mr Dempster." 
 
 Mr Selwyn went out, and left us alone. 
 
 *' May I ask. Miss Valerie, whether you have left Lady 
 M ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied I ; and I told him what had passed, 
 adding, ** I stay here for a night or two, and shall go then 
 to Madame Gironac's." 
 
164 Valerie 
 
 "Why not stay here altogether ? I hope you will. I 
 shall go abroad as soon as possible." 
 
 " Yes, and you are right in so doing ; but, Lionel, you 
 forget that my duty as executrix will be to make the best 
 of the estate for you until you are of age, and this house 
 must be let furnished ; Mr Selwyn told me so, while you 
 were away j besides, I am not a young lady of fortune, 
 but one most unfortunately dependent upon the caprices 
 of others, and I must submit to my fate." 
 
 Lionel made no reply for some little while, and then 
 he said, 
 
 " I am very glad that Lady R has showed the high 
 
 opinion she had of you, but I cannot forgive her treatment 
 of my mother. It was too cruel ; but I had better not 
 talk any more about it ; and I am sure, Miss Valerie, you 
 must be anxious to be alone. Good afternoon. Miss 
 Valerie." 
 
 " Good-bye, Lionel, for the present," replied L " By- 
 the-bye, did the cook recognise you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and I told her that I had given up going out to 
 service." 
 
 *' I think that you had better not come here, Lionel, till 
 
 I have dismissed Lady R 's maid, which I shall do the 
 
 day after her arrival. I will meet you at Mr Selywn's 
 office — it will be better." 
 
 To this Lionel agreed, and we parted. 
 
 The next day the will was proved, and Mr Selwyn then 
 informed us that he had found the will of the late Colonel 
 Dempster, which had left his property to his child unborn, 
 as might be supposed, with a jointure on the estate, which 
 was entailed. The will, in consequence of the supposed 
 non-existence of Lionel, had been proved by the next of 
 kin, a gentleman of large property, and of whom report 
 spoke highly. It was the intention of Mr Selwyn to com- 
 municate with him directly. The probate-duty, &c., had 
 required a large portion of the ^^ 1200 left in the bank, 
 but there was still enough to meet all Lionel's wants for a 
 year, if he wished to go abroad immediately, and another 
 
Valerie 165 
 
 dividend would be due in a month, so that there could be 
 no difficulty. Mr Selwyn 'explained all this as we drove 
 to his chambers, where I signed some papers at his 
 request, and Lionel received a check on the bank, and I 
 sent, by Mr Selwyn, instructions to meet his drafts for the 
 future. 
 
 This affair being arranged, Lionel stated his intention of 
 quitting immediately for Paris. He said that he would go 
 for his passport that afternoon, as there was time enough 
 left for him to give in his name at the office ; and that he 
 would call to-morrow afternoon to bid me farewell. He 
 then took his leave, and left me with Mr Selwyn, with 
 whom I had a long conversation, during which I stated to 
 him that I had some money of my own, as well as what 
 
 had been left me by Lady R , which I wished to put 
 
 in safety. He recommended that I should lodge what I 
 then had at a banker's, and, as soon as I had received the 
 rest, he would look out for a good mortgage for me. He 
 then handed me into a coach, and bade me farewell, 
 stating that he would call on the day after the morrow, at 
 
 three o'clock, as by that time Lady R 's maid must 
 
 have arrived, and I should have obtained possession of the 
 key of the tin box, the papers in which he was anxious to 
 examine. 
 
 On my return to Baker Street, I found that Lady 
 R 's maid had arrived, and I, of course, immedi- 
 ately took possession of everything. I then paid her her 
 wages, and dismissed her, giving her permission to remain 
 and sleep in the house, and promising her a character. It 
 appeared very summary to dismiss her so soon, but I was 
 anxious she should not see Lionel, and I told her that, as 
 executrix, I was not warranted in keeping her a day 
 longer than was necessary, as I was answerable for all 
 expenses. Having now the keys, I was able to examine 
 everything. I first found the tin box, with various papers 
 in it ; among others a packet, on which was written, 
 "Papers relative to my sister Ellen and her child." I 
 thought I would not open them till Mr Selwyn was 
 
1 66 Valerie 
 
 present, as it might appear as if I was curious, so I laid 
 them aside. I then despatched the cook with a note to 
 Madame Gironac, requesting that she would come and 
 spend the evening with me, as I had much to communicate 
 to her. Indeed, I felt dull alone in such a large house, 
 and I also felt the want of a sincere friend to talk with. 
 
 Having nothing better to do, I opened the various 
 drawers and cupboards which contained the apparel, &-c., 
 
 of Lady R , and found such a mass of things that I 
 
 was astonished. In her whimsical way, she had at times 
 purchased silks and various jewels, which she had never 
 made use of, but thrown on one side. There were more 
 stuffs for making up dresses than dresses made up, — I 
 should say nearly double. I found one large bundle of 
 point-lace, some of it of great beauty, which I presume 
 had belonged to her mother ; and of other laces there was 
 a great quantity. The jewels which she had taken abroad 
 with her were very few, and such as she wore in common ; 
 her diamonds, and all that was of value, I knew she had 
 sent to her banker's a day or two previous to her depart- 
 ure, and I thought I would wait till I had seen Mr Selwyn 
 again before I claimed them. 
 
 Madame Gironac came as requested, and I then com- 
 municated to her all that had taken place. She was 
 delighted at my good fortune, and said she hoped that I 
 would now come and live with them, as I had the means 
 of living, without being subject to the caprices of others ; 
 but I could give no answer till I knew what my property 
 might amount to. All I could promise was, to go to her 
 as soon as I had finished my business in Baker Street, and 
 then I would afterwards decide what steps it would be 
 advisable for me to take. 
 
 After a long conversation, during which Madame Gir- 
 onac was as lively as ever, we separated, Madame Gironac 
 promising to come and pass the next day with me, and 
 
 assist me in looking over Lady R 's wardrobe. During 
 
 the afternoon, I had selected a good many of Lady R 's 
 
 dresses, and some which did not please my taste, or had 
 
Valerie 167 
 
 been much worn, I gave to her maid, on the following 
 morning, before her departure. This pleased her very- 
 much, as she knew that her mistress's wardrobe had been 
 bequeathed to me, and did not expect to obtain any portion 
 of it ; but the drawers and closets were so loaded, that I 
 could well afford to be generous. Madame Gironac came 
 to breakfast the next morning, accompanied by her hus- 
 band, who was delighted to see me, and having as usual 
 quarrelled, after their fashion, he bounced out of the room, 
 declaring that he never would see that odious little woman 
 any more. 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur Gironac, you forget you promised to 
 come and dine here." 
 
 " Well, well, so I did ; but, Mademoiselle Valerie, that 
 promise has prevented a separation." 
 
 " It is very unlucky that you asked him, Mademoiselle 
 Valerie," replied his wife, " all my hopes are destroyed. 
 Good-bye, Monsieur Gironac, and be grateful that you 
 have been prevented from committing a folly ; now go, we 
 are to be very busy, and don't want you." 
 
 " I will go, madame ; and hear me," said Monsieur 
 Gironac, with mock solemnity ; "as I live, I will not 
 return — till dinner-time." 
 
 He then bounced out of the room. We then proceeded 
 to sort and arrange. Madame Gironac, who was a good 
 judge, stated the laces to be worth at least j[^200y and the 
 other articles, such as silks, &c., with the dresses and lace, 
 at about ;rioo more. The laces and silks not made up 
 she proposed selling for me, which she said that she could to 
 various customers, and the dresses and lace she said could 
 be disposed of to a person she knew, who gained her 
 livelihood by re-making up such things. 
 
 We were thus employed, when Lionel called. He had 
 obtained his passport, and had come to wish me good-bye. 
 When he rose to say farewell, he said, 
 
 " Miss Valerie, I can hardly say what my feelings are 
 towards you. Your kindness to me when I was a supposed 
 footman, and the interest you always took in anything con- 
 
1 68 Valerie 
 
 cerning me, have deeply impressed me with gratitude, but 
 I feel more. You are much too young for my mother, but 
 I feel the reverence of a son, and if I did dare to use the 
 expression, I feel towards you, what I think are the feel- 
 ings that a brother should have towards a sister." 
 
 " I am flattered by your saying so, Lionel," replied I. 
 ^* You are now in a much higher position, or rather soon 
 will be, than I shall ever obtain in this world, and that you 
 have such feelings towards me for any little kindness I 
 have shown to you, is highly creditable to your heart. 
 Have you any letters of introduction to anyone in Paris ? 
 but now I think of it, you cannot well have." 
 
 "No," replied he ; "I may have by and bye, but how 
 could I possibly obtain one at present ? " 
 
 A thought struck me. 
 
 '* Well, Lionel, you do not know my history ; but I was 
 once very intimate with a lady at Paris, and, although we 
 parted bad friends, she has since written kindly to me, and 
 I believe her to have been sincere in so doing. I will give 
 you a letter of introduction to her, but do not blame me if 
 I have been deceived in her a second time." 
 
 I went to the table and wrote the following short note — 
 
 " My dear Madame D'Albret, — 
 "This letter will be presented to you by a Mr Lionel 
 Dempster, a young Englishman of fortune, and a great 
 friend of mine. He is going to reside at Paris to improve 
 himself, until he comes of age ; and I give him this intro- 
 duction to you for two reasons ; the first, because I want 
 to prove to you that, although my feelings would not per- 
 mit me to accept your last kind offer, I have long forgotten 
 and forgiven any little injustice you did me : and the second, 
 because I feel convinced that in your society, and that 
 which you keep, he will gain more advantage than perhaps 
 in any other in Paris. — Yours with esteem, 
 
 " Valerie de Chaten(euf." 
 
 "There, Lionel, this may be of use to you; if not. 
 
Valerie 169. 
 
 write and let me know. You will of course let me hear 
 from you occasionally ? " 
 
 " May Heaven preserve you, Miss Valerie ! " replied 
 Lionel. " I only hope the time may arrive when I may 
 be able to prove my gratitude." 
 
 Lionel kissed my hand, and the tears rolled down his 
 cheeks as he quitted the room. 
 
 " He is a charming young man," said Madame Gironac, 
 as soon as the door was shut. 
 
 "He is a very superior young man in my opinion," 
 replied I ; " and I am most anxious that he should do 
 well. I did not think it possible that I ever could have 
 written again to Madame d'Albret, but my good-will 
 towards him induced me. There is Monsieur Gironac's 
 knock, so now for a quarrel, or a reconciliation, which 
 is it to be ? " 
 
 " Oh, we must reconcile first, and then have a quarrel 
 afterwards : that is the established rule." 
 
 Monsieur Gironac soon joined us. We passed a very 
 lively evening, and it was arranged that I should in three 
 days take up my quarters at their house. 
 
 The next day Mr Selwyn called at the time appointed, 
 and I made over to him the box and papers. He told 
 me that he had seen Mrs Green, and had had her full con- 
 fession of what took place, in corroboration of all that 
 
 was stated by Lady R and old Roberts, and that he 
 
 had written to Mr Armiger Dempster, who had succeeded 
 to the property of Lionel's father. 
 
 I then told him that I wished to go with him to the 
 bank, to lodge the money I then had, and to obtain Lady 
 R 's jewel-case which was deposited there. 
 
 " Nothing like the time present," said Mr Selwyn ; 
 " my carriage is at the door. I will have the pleasure of 
 taking you there and then returning with you. But I have 
 another appointment, and must be so impolite as to request 
 that you will hurry your toilet as much as possible." 
 
 This was done, and in an hour I had lodged my money 
 and obtained the jewel-case. 
 
170 Valerie 
 
 Mr Selwyn took me back again, and, having put the tin 
 box into the carriage, wished me farewell. 
 
 I told him that I was about to take up my residence with 
 the Gironacs, gave him their address, and then we parted. 
 
 " That evening I opened the jewel-case and found it 
 well stocked. The value of its contents I could not 
 possibly be acquainted with, but that so many diamomds 
 and other stones were of value I knew well. I placed the 
 other caskets of Lady R in the case, and then pro- 
 ceeded to make up my packages ready for transportation to 
 Madame Gironac's, for there were a great many trunks 
 full. I occupied myself with this for the remainder of the 
 time that I was in Baker Street, and when Monsieur 
 Gironac and his wife called, according to promise, to take 
 me to their home, it required two coaches, and well loaded, 
 to take all the luggage ; a third conveyed Monsieur and 
 Madame Gironac, myself, and the jewel-case. I found a 
 very cheerful room prepared for me, and I had the pleasant 
 feeling, as we sat down to our small dinner, that I had a 
 home. 
 
 Madame Gironac was indefatigable in her exertions, and 
 soon disposed of all the laces and wardrobe that I had 
 decided upon parting with, and I paid the sum that they 
 realized, viz., £^lo, into the banker's. The disposal of 
 the jewels was a more difficult affair, but they were valued 
 by a friend of Monsieur Gironac's, who had once been in the 
 trade, at £6^0, After many attempts to dispose of them 
 more favourably, I succeeded in obtaining for them the 
 sum of ^570. 
 
 Mr Selwyn had called upon me once or twice, and I 
 had received my legacy with interest ; deducting the 
 legacy duty of ;£"5o, it came to ^^458. I had, therefore, 
 the following sums in all: ^£230 of my savings; ;^3lo 
 for the wardrobe and laces, jQSTo for the jewels, and 
 ;^458 for the legacy, amounting in all to jQl$6^. Who 
 would have imagined three months before, that I should 
 ever have possessed such a sum ? I did not, certainly. 
 
 Mr Selwyn, as soon as he knew what sum I had to 
 
Valerie 171 
 
 dispose of, viz., ;!^l5oo, for I had retained the ;£6S for 
 my expenses, procured me a mortgage at five per cent, 
 on excellent landed security ; and thus did the poor 
 forlorn Valerie possess an income of ;zf 75 per annum. 
 
 As soon as this was all arranged, I felt a tranquillity I 
 had not known before. I was now independent. I could 
 work, it is true, if I felt inclined, and had an opportunity. 
 I could, however, do without work. The Gironacs, 
 finding that I insisted upon paying for my board, and 
 knowing that I could now afford it, agreed to receive 
 forty pounds per annum — more they would not listen to. 
 Oh ! what a balm to the feelings is the consciousness of 
 independence, especially to one who had been treated as 
 I had been. There were two situations to which I had 
 taken a violent abhorrence — that of a governess, and now 
 that of a milliner 5 and I thanked Heaven that I was no 
 longer under any fear of being driven into either of those 
 unfortunate employments. For the first month that I 
 remained with the Gironacs, I absolutely did nothing but 
 enjoy my emancipation ; after that, I began to talk over 
 matters with Monsieur Gironac, who pointed out to me, 
 that now that I could live upon my own means, I should 
 endeavour to increase them, so as to be still more at my 
 ease. 
 
 " What do you propose that I should do, then, 
 monsieur," replied I. 
 
 ** I should propose that you establish yourself as a 
 music-mistress, and give lessons on the pianoforte and 
 singing. By degrees, you will get a connection, and you 
 will still be your own mistress." 
 
 " And when you have nothing else to do, mademoiselle, 
 you must make flowers in wax," said Madame Gironac. 
 You make them so well, that I can always sell yours when 
 I cannot my own." 
 
 "I must not interfere with you, Elise," said I; "that 
 would be very ungrateful on my part." 
 
 **Pooh — nonsense — there are customers enough for us 
 both." 
 
172 Valerie 
 
 I thought this advice to be very good, and made up my 
 mind to follow it. I had not money sufficient to purchase 
 a piano just then, as it would be five months before the 
 half-year's interest of the mortgage would be due ; so I 
 hired one from a dealer with whom Monsieur Gironac was 
 intimate, and practised several hours every day. Fortune 
 appeared inclined to favour me, for I obtained employment 
 from four different channels. 
 
 The first and most important was this : I went every 
 Sunday to the Catholic Chapel with Madame Gironac, and 
 of course I joined in the singing. On the third Sunday as 
 I was going out, I was touched on the arm by one of the 
 priests, who requested to speak with me in the vestry. 
 Madame Gironac and I followed him, and he requested us 
 to sit down. 
 
 " Who have I the pleasure of addressing ? " said he to me. 
 
 " Mademoiselle de Chatenceuf, sir," replied I. 
 
 " I am not aware of your circumstances, mademoiselle," 
 said he, " but the name is one well known in France. 
 Still those who hold our best names are very often not in 
 affluent circumstances in this country. I trust, let it be as 
 it may, that you will not be offended, but the fact is, your 
 singing has been much admired, and we would wish for 
 your service, gratuitous, if you are in good circumstances, 
 but well paid for, if you are not, in the choir." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Chatenceuf is not, I am sorry to say, in 
 good circumstances, monsieur," replied Madame Gironac. 
 
 " Then I will promise that she shall be well rewarded 
 for her exertions, if she will consent to sing in the chapel 
 — but do you consent ? " 
 
 ** I have no objection, sir," replied I. 
 
 " Allow me, then, to call the gentleman who presides 
 over the choir," said the priest, going out. 
 
 " Accept by all means. Mademoiselle Valerie. It will 
 be an introduction for you as a music-mistress, and very 
 advantageous." 
 
 " I agree with you," replied I, " and I like singing 
 sacred music." 
 
Valerie 173 
 
 The priest returned with a gentleman, who told me that 
 he had listened with great pleasure to my singing, and 
 begged, as a favour, that I would sing him a solo, which 
 he had brought with him. 
 
 As I could sing at sight, I did so. He was satisfied, 
 and it was agreed that I should come on Saturday, at 
 twelve, to practice with the rest of the choir. The 
 following Sunday I sang with them, and also sang the 
 solos. After the service was over, I received three 
 guineas for my performance, and was informed that a 
 similar sum would be given to me every Sunday on which 
 I sang. My voice was much admired ; and, when it was 
 known that I gave lessons, I very soon had engagements 
 from many Catholic families. My charges to them were 
 moderate, five shillings a lesson of one hour. 
 
 The next channel was through Monsieur and Madame 
 Gironac. He recommended me to a gentleman whom he 
 taught, as a music-mistress for his sisters and daughters, 
 and she to all her various customers and employers. I 
 soon obtained several pupils by her exertions. The third 
 was from an intimacy I had formed with an acquaintance 
 of Madame Gironac, with a Mademoiselle Adele Chabot, 
 who was of a good French family, but earning her liveli- 
 hood as a French teacher in one of the most fashionable 
 schools in Kensington. 
 
 Through her recommendation, I obtained the teaching 
 of the young ladies at the school, but of her more here- 
 after. The fourth channel was through the kindness of 
 Mr Selwyn, the lawyer, to whom I shall now again revert. 
 I had several visits from Mr Selwyn after I had left Baker 
 Street, and on one of these he informed me, that upon the 
 proofs of Lionel Dempster's identity being examined by 
 the legal advisers of Mr Dempster, of Yorkshire, they 
 were considered so positive that the aforenamed gentleman 
 immediately came to terms, agreeing to give up the 
 property to Lionel, provided, in consequence of the great 
 improvements he had made, he was not come upon for 
 arrears of income arising from it. That Mr Selwyn 
 
1 74 Valerie 
 
 advised this offer to be accepted, as it would prevent any 
 exposure of Lady R — — , and the circumstances under 
 which Lionel had been brought up, from being made 
 public. Lionel had written to say that he was anxious 
 that any sacrifice should be made rather than the affair 
 should be exposed ; and the terms were consented to, and 
 Lionel came into possession of further property, to the 
 amount of ;^900 per annum. As we became more intimate, 
 Mr Selwyn asked me many particulars relative to myself, 
 and, by his habit of cross-examining, soon gained the best 
 portion of my history ; only one point I did not mention to 
 him, — that my family supposed that I was dead. 
 
 Chapter X 
 
 One day he came, accompanied by Mrs Selwyn, who joined 
 him very earnestly in requesting me to pass a day or two 
 with them at their country house at Kew. I accepted the 
 invitation, and they called for me in their carriage on their 
 way down. It was summer time, and I was very glad to 
 be out of London for a day or two. I found a charming 
 family of two sons and three daughters, grown up, and 
 who appeared very accomplished. Mr Selwyn then, for 
 the first time, asked me whether I was settled or not. 
 
 I told him no, — that I was giving lessons in music — that 
 I sang at the chapel, and that I was laying by money. 
 
 He said I was right, and that he hoped to be able to 
 procure me pupils ; " But now," said he, " as I did not 
 know that you had a voice, I must be permitted to hear 
 it, as otherwise I shall not be able to make my report." 
 
 I sat down immediately and sang, and he and Mrs 
 Selwyn, as well as the daughters, were highly pleased with 
 my performance. During my stay, Mr Selwyn treated me 
 in, I may say, almost a parental manner, and extracted 
 something more from me relative to my previous life, and 
 he told me that he thought I had done wisely in remaining 
 
Valerie 175 
 
 independent, and not again trusting to Lady M or 
 
 Madame d'Albret. I went afterwards several times to 
 their town house, being invited to evening parties, and 
 people who were there and heard my singing, sent for me 
 to teach their daughters. 
 
 In six months after I had taken up my residence with 
 the Gironacs, I was in flourishing circumstances. I had 
 twenty-eight pupils, ten at five shillings per lesson, and 
 eight at seven shillings, and they took lessons twice a 
 week. I had also a school for which 1 received about five 
 guineas per week, and the singing at the chapel, for which 
 I received three. In fact, I was receiving about eighteen 
 pounds a week during the winter season ; but it must be 
 confessed that I worked hard for it, and expended two or 
 three pounds a week in coach hire. Nevertheless, although 
 I now spent more money on my appearance, and had 
 purchased a piano, before the year was over I had paid 
 ;^25o into Mr Selwyn's hands to take care of for me. 
 When I thought of what might have still been my position 
 
 had it not been for the kindness of poor Lady R ; 
 
 when I reflected how I had been cast upon the world, 
 young and friendless, by Madame d'Albret, and that I was 
 now making money rapidly by my own exertions, and that 
 at such an early age (for I was but little past twenty years 
 old), had I not reason to be grateful ? I was so, and most 
 truly so, and moreover, I was happy, truly happy. All 
 my former mirth and vivacity, which had been checked 
 during my sojourn in England, returned. I improved 
 every day in good looks, at least so everybody told me 
 but Mr Selwyn; and I gained that, which to a certain 
 degree my figure required, more roundness and expansion. 
 And this was the poor Valerie, supposed to have been 
 drowned in the river Seine ! 
 
 I forgot to say, that about three weeks after Lionel went 
 to Paris, I received a letter from Madame d'Albret, in 
 which she thanked me warmly for my having introduced 
 the young Englishman to her, as she took it as a proof of 
 my really having forgiven her what she never should 
 
176 Valerie 
 
 forgive herself. She still indulged the hope that she 
 might one day embrace me. With respect to Lionel, she 
 said that he appeared a modest, unassuming young lad, and 
 that it should not be her fault if he did not turn out an 
 accomplished gentleman , that he had already the best 
 fencing and music-masters, and was working very hard at 
 the language. As soon as he could speak French tolerably, 
 he was to commence German and Italian. She had pro- 
 cured him a pension in an excellent French family, and he 
 appeared to be very happy. 
 
 I could not help reflecting, as I read the contents of this 
 letter, upon the change which had taken place in Lionel 
 Dempster, as soon as he found himself established in his 
 rights. From an impudent, talkative page, he at once 
 became a modest, respectful, and silent young man. 
 What could have caused this change ? Was it because, 
 when a page, he felt himself above his condition ; and 
 now, that he had gained a name and fortune, that he felt 
 himself beneath it ? I decided, when I remembered how 
 anxious he was to improve himself, that such was the 
 case -, and I further inferred that it showed a noble, 
 generous, and sensitive mind. And I now felt very glad 
 that I had written to Madame d'Albret, and all my objec- 
 tions to seeing her again were removed ; why so ? because 
 I was independent. It was my dependence that made me 
 so proud and unforgiving. In fact, I was on better terms 
 with the world, now that I had somewhat raised myself in 
 it. I was one day talking over my life with Mr Selwyn, 
 and after pointing out how I had been taken in by my 
 ignorance and confidence, how much wiser I had become 
 already from experience, and my hopes that I should one 
 day cease to be a dupe, he replied, 
 
 " My dear Miss Valerie, do not say so. To have been 
 a dupe is to have lived ; we are dupes when we are full 
 of the hope and warmth of youth. I am an old man ; my 
 profession has given me great knowledge of the world ; 
 knowledge of the world has made me cautious and 
 indifferent, but this has not added to my happiness, 
 
Valerie 177 
 
 although it may have saved my pocket. No, no ; when 
 we arrive at that point, when we warm before no affection, 
 doubting its truth ; when we have gained this age-bought 
 experience, which has left our hearts as dry as the remainder 
 biscuits after a long voyage — there is no happiness in this, 
 Valerie. Better to be deceived, and trust again. I 
 almost wish that I could now be the dupe of a woman or 
 a false friend, for I should then feel as if I were young 
 again." 
 
 " But, sir," replied I, " your conduct is at variance with 
 your language ; why else such kindness shown to me, a 
 perfect stranger, and one without claims upon you ? " 
 
 " You over-rate my little attention, my dear Valerie ; 
 but that proves that you have a grateful heart. I speak of 
 myself as when in contact with the world. You forget 
 that I have domestic ties to which the heart is ever fresh. 
 Were it not for home and the natural affections, we men 
 would be brutes indeed. The heart, when in conflict with 
 the world, may be compared to a plant scorched by the 
 heat of the sun ; but, in the shade of domestic repose, it 
 again recovers its freshness for the time." 
 
 " I have stated, that through the recommendation and 
 influence of a Mademoiselle Adele Chabot, I taught music 
 at an establishment for young ladies at Kensington. It 
 was what is called a finishing-school. The terms were 
 very high, and the young ladies did not always sit down 
 to boiled mutton 5 but, from what I learnt from Adele, in 
 other points it was not better than schools in general ; but 
 it had a reputation, and that was sufficient. 
 
 One day, I was informed by Mrs Bradshaw, the pro- 
 prietress of the establishment, that I was to have a new 
 pupil the next quarter, which was very near ; and when it 
 did arrive, and the young lady was brought in, who should 
 it be but Caroline, my former companion and pupil at 
 Madame Bathurst's ? 
 
 " Valerie ! " exclaimed she, rushing into my arms. 
 
 " My dear Caroline, this is an unexpected pleasure," 
 said I ; " but how came you here ? " 
 
 V M 
 
178 Valerie 
 
 " I will tell you some day," replied Caroline, not wishing 
 to talk about her family while the teacher, who came in 
 with her, was present. 
 
 " I hope Madame Bathurst is well ? " inquired I. 
 
 '' Quite well, when I saw her last," said Caroline. 
 
 "Well, my dear, we must work, and not talk, for my 
 time is valuable," said I ; "so sit down, and let me hear 
 whether you have improved since I last gave you a lesson." 
 
 The teacher then left the room, and Caroline, having 
 run over a few bars, stopped, and said, "I never can play 
 till I have talked to you, Valerie. You asked me how I 
 came here. At my own request ; or, if a girl may use such 
 language, because I insisted upon it. I was so uncomfort- 
 able at home, that I could bear it no longer. I must speak 
 against my father and mother — I cannot help it ; for it is 
 impossible to be blind •, they are so strange, so conceited, so 
 spoiled by prosperity, so haughty and imperious, and so 
 rude and uncouth to any whom they consider beneath 
 them, that it is painful to be in their company. Servants 
 will not remain a month in the house — there is nothing but 
 exchange, and everything is uncomfortable. After having 
 lived with my aunt Bathurst, who you will acknowledge 
 to be a lady in every respect, I really thought that I was 
 in a Hopital de Fous. Such assumption, such pretension, 
 such absurdities, to all which they wished to make me a 
 party. I have had a wilderness of governesses, but not 
 one would or could submit to the humiliations which they 
 were loaded with. At last, by rebelling in every way, I 
 gained my point, and have escaped to school. I feel that 
 I ought not to speak disparagingly of my parents, but still 
 I must speak the truth to you, although I would say 
 nothing to others ; so do not be angry with me, Valerie." 
 
 " I am more sorry that it is so, than that you should tell 
 me of it, Caroline ; but from what I saw during my short 
 visit, I can fully give credit to all you have said." 
 
 " But is it not a hard case, Valerie, when you cannot 
 respect your parents ? " replied Caroline, putting her 
 handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
Valerie 1 79 
 
 " It is, my dear ; but still on the whole, it is perhaps 
 for the best. You were taken from your parents, and 
 were well brought up 5 you return to them, and find 
 them many degrees below you in the scale of refinement, 
 and therefore you cannot respect them. Now, if you had 
 never left them, you would, of course, have remained 
 down at their level, and would have respected them, 
 having imbibed the same opinions, and perceiving 
 nothing wrong in their conduct. Now which of 
 the two would you prefer, if you had the power to 
 choose ? " 
 
 ** Most certainly to be as I am," replied Caroline, ** but 
 I cannot but grieve that my parents should not have been 
 like my aunt Bathurst." 
 
 " I agree with you in that feeling, but what is — is, 
 and we must make the best of it. You must excuse your 
 parents' faults as much as you can, since your education 
 will not permit you to be blind to them, and you must 
 treat them with respect from a sense of duty." 
 
 " That I have always done," replied Caroline ; " but 
 it too often happens that I have to decide between the 
 respect I would show to my parents, and a sense of 
 justice or a love of truth opposed to it — that is the 
 greatest difficulty." 
 
 "Very true," replied I, "and in such cases you must 
 act according to the dictates of your own conscience." 
 
 "Well," replied Caroline, " I think I have done wisely 
 in getting away altogether. I have seen little of my 
 aunt Bathurst, since you took me to my father's house ; 
 for, although some advances were made towards a 
 reconciliation, as soon as my aunt was told that my father 
 and mother had stated that I had been most improperly 
 brought up by her, she was so angry at the false accusa- 
 tion, that all intercourse is broken off*, I fear, for ever. 
 Oh, how I have longed to be with my aunt again ! But 
 Valerie, I never heard why you left her. Some one did 
 say that you had gone, but why was not known." 
 
 " I went away, Caroline, because T was no longer of 
 
1 80 Valerie 
 
 any use in the house after you had been removed, and 
 I did not choose to be an incumbrance to your aunt. I 
 preferred gaining my livelihood by my own exertions, 
 as I am now doing, and to which resolution on my part, 
 I am indebted for the pleasure of our again meeting." 
 
 *' Ah, Valerie, I never loved you so much as I did after 
 I had lost you," said Caroline. 
 
 " That is generally the case, my dear," replied I; "but 
 now if you please, we will try this sonata. We shall 
 have plenty of time for talking, as we shall meet twice a 
 week." 
 
 Caroline played the sonata, and then dropping her 
 fingers on the keys, said, "Now, Valerie, do you know 
 what was one of my wild dreams which assisted in inducing 
 me to come here ? I'll tell you. I know that I shall never 
 find a husband at my father's house. All well-bred 
 people, if they once go there, do not go a second time, 
 and, whatever may be the merits of the daughter, they 
 have no time to find them out, and leave the house, with 
 the supposition that she, having been educated in so bad a 
 school, must be unworthy of notice. Now I mean, if I 
 can, to elope from school, that is if I can find a gentleman 
 to my fancy — not to Gretna Green but as soon as I am 
 married, to go to my aunt Bathurst direct, and you know 
 that once under a husband's protection, my father and 
 mother have no control over me. Will you assist my 
 views, Valerie ? It's the only chance I have of happiness." 
 
 " A very pretty confession for a young lady, not yet 
 eighteen," replied I ; " and a very pretty question to put 
 to me, who have been your governess, Caroline. I am 
 afraid that you must not look to me for assistance, but 
 consider it, as you termed it at first, a wild dream." 
 
 "Nevertheless, dreams come true sometimes," replied 
 Caroline, laughing ; " and all I require is birth and 
 character : you know that I must have plenty of money." 
 
 " But, my dear Caroline, it is not people of birth and 
 character who prowl round boarding-schools in search of 
 heiresses." 
 
Valerie 18 1 
 
 " I know that ; and that was why I asked you to help 
 me. At all events, I'll not leave this place till I am 
 married, or going to be married, that's certain, if I stay 
 here till I'm twenty-five. 
 
 " "Well, do not make rash resolutions ; but surely, 
 Caroline, you have not reason to complain of your parents' 
 treatment ; they are kind and affectionate towards you." 
 
 " Indeed they are not, nor were they from the time that 
 I returned to them with you. They try by force to make 
 me espouse their own incorrect notions of right and wrong, 
 and it is one scene of daily altercation. They abuse and 
 laugh at aunt Bathurst, I believe on purpose to vex me ; 
 and, having never lived with them from my infancy, of 
 course, when I met them I had to learn to love them. I 
 was willing so to do, notwithstanding their unkindness to 
 my aunt, whom I love so dearly, but they would not let 
 me ; and now I really believe that they care little about 
 me, and would care nothing, if I were not their only 
 daughter, for you know, perhaps, that both my brothers 
 are now dead ? " 
 
 " I knew that one was," replied I. 
 
 ** The other, William, died last year," replied Caroline ; 
 ** his death was a release, poor fellow, as he had a complaint 
 in the spine for many years. Do you know what I mean 
 to do ? I shall write to aunt Bathurst, to come and see 
 me. 
 
 " Well, I think you will be right in so doing ; but will 
 not your father and mother come to you ? " 
 
 " No, for they are very angry, and say, that until I 
 come to my senses, and learn the difference between 
 people, who are somebodies, and people who are nobodies, 
 they will take no notice of me ; and that I may remain 
 here till I am tired ; which they think I shall soon be, and 
 write to come back again. The last words of my father, 
 when he brought me here and left me, were, — * I leave 
 you here to come to your senses.' He was white with 
 anger : but I do not wish to talk any more about them." 
 
 " And your time is up, Caroline j so you must go and 
 
1 82 Valerie 
 
 make room for another pupil. Miss Greaves is the 
 next." 
 
 Shortly after my meeting with Caroline, I received a 
 letter from Lionel, stating that it was his intention to come 
 over to England for a fortnight, and asking whether he 
 could execute any commissions for me in Paris, previous to 
 his departure. He also informed me that he had received 
 a very kind letter, from his uncle the baronet, who had 
 had several interviews with Mr Selwyn, and who was 
 fully satisfied with his identity, and acknowledged him as 
 his nephew. This gave me great pleasure. I replied to 
 his letter, stating that I should be most happy to see him, 
 but that as for commissions I was too poor to give him 
 any. Madame d'Albret had sent her kind souvenirs to 
 me in Lionel's letter, and I returned them in my reply. 
 Indeed, now that I was earning a livelihood, and by my 
 own exertions, I felt that I was every day adding to my 
 means and future independence, a great change, I may 
 safely say for the better, took place in me. My pride was 
 lessened, that is, my worst pride was superseded by a 
 more honest one. I had a strange revulsion in feeling 
 towards Madame d'Albret, Madame Bathurst and Lady 
 
 M , and I felt that I could forgive them all. I was no 
 
 longer brooding over my dependent position, fancying, 
 perhaps, insults never intended, or irritated by real slights. 
 Everything was couleur de rose with me, and that coiileur 
 was reflected upon everything. 
 
 " Ah, Mademoiselle Valerie," said Madame Gironac to 
 me one day, *'I had no idea when I first made your 
 acquaintance that you were so witty. My husband 
 and all the gentlemen say that you have plus (T esprit than 
 any woman they ever conversed with." 
 
 **When I first knew you, Annette, I was not happy, 
 now I am happy, almost too happy, and that is the reason 
 I am so gay." 
 
 " And I don't think you hate the men so much as you 
 did," continued she. 
 
 " I am in a humour to hate nobody," replied L 
 
Valerie 183 
 
 " That is true ; and, Mademoiselle Valerie, you will 
 marry one of these days ; mind," continued she, putting up 
 her finger, ** I tell you so." 
 
 ** And I tell you, no," replied I. "I think there is only 
 one excuse for a woman marrying, which is, when she 
 requires some one to support her ; that is not my case, for 
 I thank Heaven I can support myself." 
 
 " Nous verrons" replied Madame Gironac. 
 
 Caroline did, however, find the restraint of a school 
 rather irksome, and wished very much to go out with me. 
 When the holidays arrived, and the other young ladies had 
 gone home, I spoke to Mrs Bradshaw, and as she was very 
 partial to me, and knew my former relations with Caroline, 
 she gave her consent. Shortly afterwards, Mrs Bradshaw 
 accepted an invitation to pass three weeks with some 
 friends, and I then proposed that Caroline should pass the 
 remainder of the holidays with me, to which Mrs Bradshaw 
 also consented, much to Caroline's delight. Madame 
 Gironac had made up a bed for her in my room, and we 
 were a very merry party. 
 
 A few days after Caroline came to the house, Lionel 
 made his appearance. I should hardly have believed 
 it possible that he could have so improved in ap- 
 pearance in so short a time. He brought me a very 
 kind letter from Madame d'Albret, in which she begged, 
 as a proof of my having forgiven her, that I would not 
 refuse a few presents she had sent by Lionel. They were 
 very beautiful and expensive, and, when I had had some 
 conversation with Lionel, I made up my mind that I would 
 not return them, which certainly I at first felt more 
 inclined to do than to keep them. When Lionel took 
 leave, promising to come to dinner, Caroline asked me 
 who that gentlemanly young man was. I replied, " that 
 it was a Mr Lionel Dempster, the nephew of Lady 
 
 R ," but further conversation was interrupted by the 
 
 arrival of young Mr Selwyn, who came with a message 
 from his father inviting me to Kew. I declined the invita- 
 tion, on the plea of Caroline being with me. Mr Selwyn 
 
184 Valerie 
 
 remained some time conversing with me, and at last 
 inquired if I should like to go to the next meeting at the 
 Horticultural Gardens, at the same time offering me two 
 tickets. As I was anxious to see the gardens, I accepted 
 them. He told me that his father would call for us, and his 
 mother and sisters were to be there, and then he took leave. 
 
 ** Who is Mr Selwyn ? " inquired Caroline. 
 
 I told her. 
 
 " "Well," said she, " I have seen two nice young men 
 this morning ; I don't know which I like best, but I think 
 Mr Selwyn is the more manly of the two." 
 
 ''I should think so, too, Caroline," replied I; ** Mr 
 Selwyn is twenty-four years old, I believe, and Mr 
 Dempster is younger, I think, than you are." 
 
 "I did not think he was so young; but, Valerie, are 
 we not to go to the National Gallery ? " 
 
 " Yes, when Monsieur Gironac comes home to escort 
 us ; we may as well put on our bonnets, for he will be 
 here in a few minutes." 
 
 " Oh, Valerie, how fortunate it was that I came to Mrs 
 Bradshaw's," said Caroline, ** and that I met you ! I should 
 have been moped, that is certain, if I had not, but now I'm 
 so happy — that's Monsieur Gironac's knock, I'm sure." 
 
 But Caroline was wrong, for it was Mademoiselle Chabot, 
 of whom I have before spoken, who made her appearance. 
 Mademoiselle Chabot was an acquaintance of Madame 
 Gironac, and it was through my having become intimate 
 with her, that I obtained the teaching of Mrs Bradshaw's. 
 Adele Chabot was a very pretty person, thoroughly French, 
 and dressed with great taste. She was the resident French 
 teacher in Mrs Bradshaw's establishment ; and, although 
 twenty-five years old, did not look more than eighteen ; 
 she was very amusing and rather wild, although she looked 
 very demure. I never thought that there was anything 
 wrong in Adele, but, at the same time, I did not consider 
 that Caroline would derive any good from her company, 
 as Caroline required to be held in check as it was. But, 
 as is usually the case, the more I attempted to check any 
 
Valerie 185 
 
 intimacy between them, the more intimate they became. 
 Adele was of a good family ; her father had fallen at 
 Montmartre, when the allies entered Paris after the Battle 
 of Waterloo : but the property left was very small to be 
 divided among a large family, and consequently Adele had 
 first gone out as a governess at Paris, and ultimately 
 accepted the situation she now held. She spoke English 
 remarkably well, indeed, better than I ever heard it spoken 
 by a Frenchwoman, and everybody said so as well as me. 
 
 "Well, Adele, I thought you were at Brighton," said 
 Caroline. 
 
 " I was yesterday, and I am here to-day ; I am come to 
 dine with you," replied Adele, taking off her bonnet and 
 shawl, and smoothing her hair before the glass. " Where's 
 Madame Gironac ? " 
 
 " Gone out to give a lesson in flower-making," replied I. 
 
 " Yes, she is like the little busy bees, always on the 
 wing, and, as the hymn says, * How neat she spread her 
 wax ! ' and Monsieur, where is he ? " 
 
 " Gone out to give a lesson, also," replied I. 
 
 " Yes, he's like the wind, always blowing, one hour 
 the flute, another the French horn, then the bassoon or 
 the bugle, always blowing and always shifting from one 
 point to the other ; never a calm with him, for when he 
 comes home there's a breeze with his wife, a raimable^ to 
 be sure." 
 
 '* Yes," replied Caroline, " always blowing, but never 
 coming to blows." 
 
 " You are witty, Mademoiselle Caroline," said Adele, 
 " with your paradox. Do you know that I had an adven- 
 ture at Brighton, and I am taken for you, by a very 
 fashionable young man ? " 
 
 ''How can you have been taken for me?" said Caroline. 
 
 The gentleman wished to find out who I was, and I 
 would not tell him. He inquired of the chambermaid of 
 the lodging-house, and bribed her, I presume, for the 
 next day she came up to my room and asked me for my 
 card, that her mistress might write my name down correctly 
 
1 86 Valerie 
 
 in the book. I knew that the mistress had not sent her, 
 as I had, by her request, entered my own name in the 
 book three days before, and I was therefore certain that it 
 was to find out who I was for the gentleman who followed 
 me everywhere. I recollected that I had a card of yours 
 in my case, and I gave it to her very quietly, and she 
 walked off with it. The next day, when I was at the 
 library^ the gentleman addressed me by your name ; I told 
 him that it was not my name, and requested that he would 
 not address me again. When I left Brighton yesterday, 
 I discovered the chambermaid copying the addresses I had 
 put on my trunks, which was your name, at Mrs Brad- 
 shaw's ; so now I think we shall have some fun." 
 
 " But, my dear Adele, you have not been prudent ; 
 you may compromise Caroline very much," said I ; 
 " recollect that men talk, and something unpleasant may 
 occur from this want of discretion on your part." 
 
 " Be not afraid, Valerie ; I conducted myself with such 
 prudery that an angel's character could not suffer." 
 
 " I do not mean to hint otherwise, Adele, but still you 
 must acknowledge that you have done an imprudent thing." 
 
 " Well, I do confess it, but, Valerie, every one has not 
 your discretion and good sense. At all events, if I see or 
 hear any more of the gentleman I can undo it again, — but 
 that is not very likely." 
 
 "We have had two gentlemen here to-day, Adele," said 
 Caroline. " and one dines with us." 
 
 " Indeed ; well, Fm in demi-toilette, and must remain so, 
 for I cannot go all the way back to Mrs Bradshaw's to 
 dress." 
 
 " He is a very handsome young man, is he not, Valerie ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied I, ** and of large fortune, too." 
 
 " Well, I shall not have a fair chance, then," said Adele, 
 '* for go back I cannot." 
 
 *' Now, Adele, you know how much more becoming the 
 demi-toilette is to you than the evening dress," replied 
 Caroline, " so don't pretend to deny it." 
 
 " I deny nothing and I admit nothing," replied Adele, 
 
Valerie 187 
 
 laughing, " except that I am a woman, and now draw your 
 own inferences and conclusions — ce niest egalJ^ 
 
 We had a very pleasant dinner party. Adele tried to 
 flirt with Lionel, but it was in vain. He had no attentions 
 to throw away, except upon me ; once he whispered, " I 
 should not feel strange at being seated with others, but to 
 be by your side does malce me awkward. Old habits are 
 strong, and every now and then I find myself jumping up 
 to change your plate." 
 
 " It's a great pleasure to me, Lionel, to find you in the 
 position you are entitled to from your birth. You will 
 soon sit down with people of more consequence than 
 Valerie de Chatenoeuf." 
 
 " But never with anyone that I shall esteem or respect 
 so much, be they who they may," replied Lionel. 
 
 During dinner, I mentioned that Mr Selwyn had called 
 and engaged Caroline and me to go to the Horticultural 
 fete. 
 
 *' I wish Madame Gironac was going," continued I, 
 " she is so fond of flowers." 
 
 ** Never mind, my dear Valerie, I will stay at home and 
 earn some money." 
 
 " Madame," cried Monsieur Gironac, pretending to be 
 very angry, and striking with his fist on the table so as to 
 make all the wine glasses ring, "you shall do no such 
 thing. You shall not always oppose my wishes. You 
 shall not stay at home and earn some money. You shall 
 go out and spend money. Yes, madame, I will be 
 obeyed ; you shall go to the Horticultural fete, and I 
 invite Monsieur Lionel, and Mademoiselle Adele to come 
 with us that they may witness that I am the master. Yes, 
 madame, resistance is useless. You shall go in a remise de 
 ver, or glass-coach, as round as a pumpkin, but you shall 
 not go in glass slippers, like Cinderella, because they are 
 not pleasant to walk in. How Cinderella danced in them 
 has always been a puzzle to me, ever since I was a child, 
 and of what kind of glass they were made of." 
 
 " Perhaps isinglass," said Lionel. 
 
i88 Valerie 
 
 " No, sir, not isinglass ; it must have been fairy glass ; 
 but never mind. I ask you, Madame Gironac, whether 
 you intend to be an obedient wife, or intend to resist my 
 commands ? " 
 
 *'* Barbare,^^ replied Madame Gironac, " am I then to be 
 forced to go to a fete ! ah, cruel man, you'll break my 
 heart ; but I submit to my unhappy destiny. Yes, I will 
 go in the remise de ver : pity me, my good friends, but you 
 don't know that man." 
 
 " I am satisfied with your obedience, madame, and now 
 I permit you to embrace me." 
 
 Madame Gironac, who was delighted at the idea of 
 going to the fete, ran to her husband, and kissed him over 
 and over again. Adele and Lionel accepted Monsieur 
 Gironac's invitation, and thus was the affair settled in 
 Monsieur Gironac's queer way. 
 
 The day of the Horticultural fete arrived. It was a 
 lovely morning. We were all dressed and the glass coach 
 was at the door, when Mr Selwyn arrived in his carriage, 
 and Caroline and I stepped in. I introduced Caroline, who 
 was remarkably well dressed, and very pretty. Mr Selwyn 
 had before told me that he was acquainted with Madame 
 Bathurst, having met her two or three times, and sat by her 
 at a dinner-party. He appeared much pleased with Caroline, 
 but could not make out how she was in my company. Of 
 course, he asked no questions before her. 
 
 On our arrival at the gardens, we found young Mr 
 Selwyn waiting at the entrance to take us to Mrs Selwyn 
 and his sisters, who had come from their house at Kew. 
 About half-an-hour afterwards, we fell in with Monsieur 
 Gironac, madame, Adele, and Lionel. Mr Selwyn greeted 
 Lionel warmly, introducing him to his family ; and, on my 
 presenting the Gironacs and Adele, was very polite and 
 friendly, for he knew from me how kind they had been. 
 Adele Chabot never looked so well ; her costume was 
 most becoming j she had put on her air ?nutine, and was 
 admired by all that passed us. We were all grouped 
 together close to the band, when who should appear right 
 
 I 
 
Valerie 189 
 
 in front of us but Madame Bathurst. At that time, 
 Caroline was on the one arm of Mr Selwyn, and I on the 
 other. 
 
 ** Caroline ! " exclaimed Madame Bathurst, ** and you 
 here ! " turning to me. 
 
 While she remained in astonishment, Caroline ran up and 
 kissed her. 
 
 " You recollect, Mr Selwyn, aunt, do you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Madame Bathurst, returning the salute 
 of Mr Selwyn, " but still I am surprised." 
 
 " Come with me, aunt, and I will tell you all about it." 
 
 Caroline then walked to a seat at a little distance, sat 
 down, and entered into conversation with Madame 
 Bathurst. In a few minutes, Madame Bathurst rose, and 
 came up to our party, with Caroline on her arm. 
 
 She first thanked Mr Selwyn for his kindness in bring- 
 ing her niece to the fete, and then turning to me, said 
 with some emotion, as she oiFered her hand, "Valerie, 
 I hope we are friends. We have mistaken each other." 
 
 I felt all my resentment gone, and took her offered 
 hand. 
 
 She then led me aside and said, "I must beg your 
 pardon, Valerie, I did not — " 
 
 " Nay," replied I, interrupting her, " I was too hasty 
 and too proud." 
 
 " You are a good kind-hearted girl, Valerie — but let 
 us say no more about it. Now introduce me to your 
 friends." 
 
 I did so. Madame Bathurst was most gracious, and 
 appeared very much struck with Adele Chabot, and 
 entered into conversation with her, and certainly Adele 
 would not have been taken for a French teacher by her 
 appearance. There was something very aristocratic about 
 her. While they were in converse, a very gentlemanlike 
 man raised his hat to Madame Bathurst, as I thought, 
 and passed on. Adele coloured up, I observed, as if she 
 knew him, but did not return the salute, which Madame 
 Bathurst did. 
 
190 Valerie 
 
 **Do you know that gentleman, Mademoiselle Chabot?" 
 inquired Caroline. " I thought he bowed to you, and not 
 to aunt." 
 
 "I have seen him before," replied Adele, carelessly, 
 " but I forget his name." 
 
 "Then I can tell you," added Madame Bathurst, "It 
 is Colonel Jervis, a very fashionable man, but not a very 
 great favourite of mine ; not that I have any thing to 
 accuse him of, particularly, except that he is said to be 
 a very worldly man." 
 
 "Is he of good family ? " inquired Adele. 
 
 " Oh, yes, unexceptionable on that point ; but it is time 
 for me to go. There it my party coming down the walk. 
 Caroline, dear, I will call upon you to-morrow at three 
 o'clock, and then we will make our arrangements." 
 
 Madame Bathurst then bade adieu to Mr Selwyn, and 
 the rest, saying to me, " Au revoir, Valerie." 
 
 Shortly afterwards, we agreed to leave. As Mr Selwyn 
 was returning to Kew, I would not accept the offer of his 
 carriage to take Caroline and me to London, the glass- 
 coach, round as a pumpkin, would hold six, and we all 
 went away together. 
 
 I was very much pleased at thus meeting with Madame 
 Bathurst, and our reconciliation, and quite as much so for 
 Caroline's sake ; for, although she had at first said that 
 she would write to her aunt, she had put it off continually 
 for reasons which she had never expressed to me. I rather 
 think that she feared her aunt might prove a check on her, 
 and I was, therefore, very glad that they had met, as now 
 Madame Bathurst would look after her. 
 
 During the evening, I observed that Adele and Caroline 
 had a long conversation sotto voce. I suspected that the 
 gentleman, at whose appearance she had coloured up, was 
 the subject of it. The next day Madame Bathurst called, 
 and heard a detailed account of all that had passed from 
 Caroline and from me since we had parted. She said that 
 as Caroline was put to the school by her father, of course 
 she could not remove her, but that she would call and see 
 
Valerie 191 
 
 her as often as she could. She congratulated me upon my 
 little independence, and trusted that we should ever be on 
 friendly terms, and that I would come and visit her when- 
 ever my avocations would permit me. As there were still 
 three weeks of the holidays remaining, she proposed that 
 we should come and pass a portion of the time with her at 
 a villa which she had upon the banks of the Thames. 
 
 She said that Caroline's father and mother were down 
 at Brighton, giving very gay parties. Having arranged 
 the time that the carriage should come for us on the 
 following day, she kissed us both affectionately, and 
 went away. 
 
 The next day we were at Richmond in a delightful 
 cottage ornee; and there we remained for more than a 
 fortnight. To me it was a time of much happiness, for 
 it was like the renewal of old times, and I was sorry 
 when the visit was over. 
 
 On my return, I found a pressing invitation for 
 Caroline and me to go to Kew, and remain two or three 
 days ; and, as we had still time to pay the visit, it was 
 accepted ; but, before we went Adele came to see us, 
 and, after a little general conversation, requested that she 
 might speak to me in my own room. 
 
 " Valerie," said Adele, as soon as we were seated, ** I 
 know that you think me a wild girl, and perhaps I am so ; 
 but I am not quite so wild as I thought myself, for now 
 that I am in a critical position, I come to you for advice, 
 and for advice against my own feelings, for I tell you 
 frankly, that I am very much in love — and moreover — 
 which you may ivell suppose, most anxious to be relieved 
 from the detestable position of a French teacher in a 
 boarding-school. I now have the opportunity, and yet 
 I dread to avail myself of it, and I therefore come to you, 
 who are so prudent and so sage, to request, after you 
 have heard what I have to impart, you will give me your 
 real opinion as to what I ought to do. You recollect I 
 told you a gentleman had followed me at Brighton, and 
 how for mere frolic, I had led him to suppose that I was 
 
192 Valerie 
 
 Caroline Stanhope, I certainly did not expect to see him 
 again, but I did three days after I came up from Brighton. 
 The girl had evidently copied the address on my trunk 
 for him, and he followed me up, and he accosted me as 
 I was walking home. He told me that he had never 
 slept since he had first seen me, and that he was 
 honourably in love with me. I replied that he was 
 mistaken in supposing that I was Caroline Stanhope ; that 
 my name was Adele Chabot, and that now that I had 
 stated the truth to him he would alter his sentiments. 
 He declared that he should not, pressed me to allow 
 him to call, which I refused, and such was our first 
 interview. 
 
 I did not see him again until at the horticultural fete, 
 when I was talking to Madame Bathurst. He had told 
 me that he was an officer in the army, but he did not 
 mention his name. You recollect what Madame Bathurst 
 said about him, and who he was. Since you have been at 
 Richmond, he has contrived to see me every day, and I 
 will confess that latterly I have not been unwilling to 
 meet him, for every day I have been more pleased with 
 him. On our first meeting after the fete, I told him that 
 he still supposed me to be Caroline Stanhope, and that 
 seeing me walking with Caroline's aunt had confirmed him 
 in his idea, but I assured him that I was Adele Chabot, a 
 girl without fortune, and not, as he supposed a great 
 heiress. His answer was that any acquaintance of Madame 
 Bathurst's must be a lady, and that he had never inquired 
 or thought about my fortune. That my having none 
 would prove the disinterestedness of his affection for me, 
 and that he required me and nothing more. I have seen 
 him every day almost since then ; he has given me his 
 name and made proposals to me, notwithstanding my 
 reiterated assertions that I am Adele Chabot, and not 
 Caroline Stanhope. One thing is certain, that I am very 
 much attached to him, and if I do not marry him I shall be 
 very miserable for a long time," and here Adele burst 
 into tears. 
 
Valerie 193 
 
 " But why do you grieve, Adele ? " said I, " You like 
 him, and he offers to marry you. My advice is very 
 simple, — marry him." 
 
 ** Yes," replied Adele, " if all was as it seems. I agree 
 with you that my course is clear ; but, notwithstanding 
 his repeated assertions that he loves me as Adele Chabot, 
 I am convinced in my own mind that he still believes me 
 to be Caroline Stanhope. Perhaps he thinks that I am a 
 romantic young lady who is determined to be married pour 
 ses beaux yeux alone, and conceals her being an heiress on 
 that account, and he therefore humours me by pretending 
 to believe that I am a poor girl without a shilling. Now, 
 Valerie, here is my difficulty. If I were to marry him, as 
 he proposes, when he comes to find out that he has been 
 deceiving himself, and that I am not the heiress, will he 
 not be angry, and perhaps disgusted with me — will he not 
 blame me instead of himself, as people always do, and will 
 he not ill-treat me ? If he did, it would break my heart, 
 for I love him — love him dearly. Then, on the other 
 hand, I may be wrong, and he may be, as he says, in love 
 with Adele Chabot, so that I shall have thrown away my 
 chance of happiness from an erroneous idea. What shall 
 I do, Valerie ? Do advise me." 
 
 " Much will depend on the character of the man, Adele. 
 You have some insight into people's characters, what idea 
 have you formed of his ^. " 
 
 "I hardly can say, for when men profess to be in love 
 they are such deceivers. Their faults are concealed, and 
 they assume virtues which they do not possess. On my 
 first meeting with him, I thought that he was a proud man 
 — perhaps I might say a vain man — but, since I have seen 
 more of him, I think I was wrong." 
 
 "No, Adele, depend upon it you were right; at that 
 time you were not blinded as you are now. Do you think 
 him a good-tempered man ? " 
 
 " Yes, I firmly believe that he is. I made a remark at 
 Brighton : a child that had its fingers very dirty ran out 
 to him, and as it stumbled printed the marks of its fingers 
 
 V N 
 
194 Valerie 
 
 upon his white trousers, so that he was obliged to return 
 home and change them. Instead of pushing the child 
 away, he saved it from falling, saying, *Well, my little 
 man, it's better that I should change my dress than that 
 you should have broken your head on the pavement.' " 
 
 **Well, Adele, I agree with you that it is a proof of 
 great good temper." 
 
 ** Well, then, Valerie, what do you think ? " 
 
 "I think that it is a lottery; but all marriages are 
 lotteries, with more blanks than prizes. You have done 
 all you can to undeceive him, if he still deceives himself. 
 You can do no more. I will assume that he does deceive 
 himself, and that disappointment and irritation will be the 
 consequence of his discovery that you have been telling 
 the truth. If he is a vain man, he will not Hke to acknow- 
 ledge to the world that he has been his own dupe. If he 
 is a good-hearted man, he will not long continue angry ; 
 but, Adele, much depends upon yourself. You must 
 forbear all recrimination — you must exert all your talents of 
 pleasing to reconcile him to his disappointment ; and, if 
 you act wisely, you will probably succeed : indeed, unless 
 the man is a bad-hearted man, you must eventually succeed. 
 You best know your own powers, and must decide for 
 yourself." 
 
 ** It is that feeling — that almost certain feeling that I 
 shall be able to console him for his disappointment, that 
 impels me on. Valerie, I will make him love me, I am 
 determined." 
 
 " And when a woman is determined on that point, she 
 invariably succeeds in the end, Adele. This is supposing 
 that he is deceiving himself, which may not be the case, 
 Adele, for I do think you have sufficient attractions to 
 make a man love you for yourself alone ; and recollect that 
 such may be the case in the present instance. It may be 
 that at first he followed you as an heiress, and has since 
 found out that if not an heiress, you are a very charming 
 woman, and has in consequence been unable to resist your 
 influence. However, there is only one to whom the 
 
 I 
 
Valerie 195 
 
 secrets of the heart are known. I consider that you have 
 acted honourably, and if you choose to risk the hazard 
 of the die, no one can attach blame to you." 
 
 " Thank you, Valerie, you have taken a great load oft 
 my heart. If you think I am not doing wrong, I will risk 
 every thing." 
 
 " Well, Adele, let you decide how you may, I hope 
 you will prosper. For my part, I would not cross the 
 street for the best man that ever was created. As friends, 
 they are all very well ; as advisers in some cases they 
 are useful ; but, when you talk of marrying one, and 
 becoming his slave, that is quite another affair. What 
 were you and Caroline talking about so earnestly in the 
 corner ? " 
 
 " I will confess the truth, it was of love and marriage, 
 with an episode about Mr Charles Selwyn, of whom 
 Caroline appears to have a very good opinion." 
 
 **Well, Adele, I must go down again now. If you 
 wish any advice at any future time, such as it is, it is at 
 your service. You are making ' A Bold Stroke for a 
 Husband ' that's certain. However, the title of another 
 play is ' All's Well that Ends Well.' " 
 
 " Well, I will follow out your playing upon plays, 
 Valerie, by saying that with you * Love's Labour's Lost.' " 
 
 " Exactly," replied I, " because I consider it * Much 
 Ado About Nothing.' " 
 
 The next day, Lionel came to bid me farewell, as he 
 was returning to Paris. During our sojourn at Madame 
 Bathurst's, he had been down to see his uncle, and had 
 been very kindly received. I wrote to Madame d'Albret, 
 thanking her for her presents, which, valuable as they 
 were, I would not return after what she had said, and 
 confided to Lionel a box of the flowers in wax that I was so 
 successful in imitating, and which I requested her to put 
 on her side table in remembrance of me. Mr Selwyn 
 sent the carriage at the time appointed, and we went 
 down to Kew, where I was as kindly received as before. 
 
 What Adele told me of the conversation between 
 
1 96 Valerie 
 
 Caroline and her made me watchful, and before our visit 
 was out I had made up my mind that there was a mutual 
 feeling between her and young Mr Selwyn. When we were 
 going away, this was confirmed, but I took no notice. 
 But, although I made no remark, this commencement of an 
 attachment between CaroHne and him occupied my mind 
 during the whole of our journey to town. 
 
 In Caroline's position, I was not decided if I would 
 encourage it and assist it. Charles Selwyn was a gentle- 
 man by birth and profession, a very good-looking and very 
 talented young man. All his family were amiable, and he 
 himself remarkably kind-hearted and well-disposed. That 
 Caroline was not likely to return to her father's house, 
 where I felt assured that she was miserable, was very 
 evident, and that she would soon weary of the monotony 
 of a school at her age was also to be expected. There 
 was, therefore, every probability that she would, if she 
 found an opportunity, run away, as she stated to me she 
 would, and it was ten chances to one that in so doing she 
 would make an unfortunate match, either becoming the 
 prey of some fortune-hunter, or connecting herself with 
 some thoughtless young man. 
 
 Could she do better than marry Mr Selwyn ? Certainly 
 not. That her father and mother, who thought only of 
 dukes and earls, would give their consent, was not very 
 likely. Should I acquaint Madame Bathurst ? That would 
 be of little use, as she would not interfere. Should I tell 
 Mr Selv/yn's father ? No. If a match at all, it must be 
 a runaway match, and Mr Selwyn, senior, would never 
 sanction any thing of the kind. I resolved, therefore, to 
 let the affair ripen as it might. It would occupy Caroline, 
 and prevent her doing a more foolish thing, even if it were 
 to be ultimately broken off by unforeseen circumstances. 
 Caroline was as much absorbed by her own thoughts as 
 I was during the ride, and not a syllable was exchanged be- 
 tween us till we were roused by the rattling over the stones. 
 
 ** My dear Caroline, what a reverie you have been in," 
 said I. 
 
Valerie 197 
 
 " And you, Valerie." 
 
 " Why I have been thinking ; certainly, when I cannot 
 have a more agreeable companion, I amuse myself with 
 my own thoughts." 
 
 '^Will you tell me what you have been thinking 
 about ? " 
 
 " Yes, Caroline, provided you will be equally con- 
 fiding." 
 
 '* I will, I assure you." 
 
 " Well, then, I was thinking of a gentleman." 
 
 *' And so was I," replied Caroline. 
 
 ** Mine was a very handsome, clever young man." 
 
 " And so was mine," replied she. 
 
 '' But I am not smitten with him," continued I. 
 
 *' I cannot answer that question," replied Caroline, 
 " because I do not know who you were thinking about." 
 
 " You must answer the question as to the gentleman 
 you were thinking of, Caroline. I repeat that I am not 
 smitten with him, and that his name is Mr Charles 
 Selwyn." 
 
 " I was also thinking of Mr Charles Selwyn," replied 
 Caroline. 
 
 " And you are not smitten with him any more than I 
 am, or he is with you ? " continued I, smiling, and looking 
 her full in the face. 
 
 Caroline coloured, and said, 
 
 " I like him very much from what I have seen of him, 
 Valerie ; but recollect our acquaintance has been very 
 short." 
 
 ** A very proper answer, my dear Caroline, and given 
 v/ith due maidenly decorum — but here we are ; and there 
 is Madame Gironac nodding to us from the window." 
 
 The next day, Caroline went back to Mrs Bradshaw's, 
 and I did not see her till the music-lesson of Wednesday 
 afterwards. Caroline, who had been watching for me, met 
 me at the door. 
 
 ** Oh ! Valerie, I have a great deal to tell. In the first 
 place, the establishment is in an uproar at the disappearance 
 
198 Valerie 
 
 of Adele Chabot, who has removed her clothes, and gone 
 oiF without beat of drum. One of the maids states that 
 she has several times seen her walking and talking with a 
 tall gentleman, and Mrs Bradshaw thinks that the reputa- 
 tion of her school is ruined by Adele's flight. She has 
 drunk at least two bottles of eau-de-Cologne and water to 
 keep off the hysterics, and is now lying on the sofa, talking 
 in a very incoherent way. Miss Phipps says she thinks 
 her head is affected." 
 
 *'I should think it was," replied I. "Well, is that 
 all ? " 
 
 " All ! why, Valerie, you appear to think nothing of an 
 elopement. All ! why is it not horrible ? " 
 
 " I do not think it very horrible, Caroline ; but I am 
 glad to find that you have such correct ideas on that point, 
 as it satisfies me that nothing would induce you to take 
 such a step." 
 
 " Well," replied Caroline, quickly, " what I had also to 
 communicate is, that I have seen my father, who informed 
 me that on their return from Brighton in October, they 
 expect that I will come home. He said that it was high 
 time that I was settled in life, and that I could not expect 
 to be married if I remained at a boarding-school." 
 
 " Well, and what did you say ? " 
 
 " I said that I did not expect to be married, and I did 
 not wish it ; that I thought my education was far from 
 complete, and that I wished to improve myself." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Then he said that he should submit to my caprices no 
 longer, and that I should go back in October, as he had 
 decided." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, I said no more, and he went away." 
 
 Having received all this intelligence, I went up stairs. 
 I found Mrs Bradshaw crying bitterly, and she threw her- 
 self into my arms. 
 
 "Oh, Mademoiselle Chatenoeuf! — the disgrace! — the 
 ruin ! — I shall never get over it," exclaimed she. 
 
Valerie 199 
 
 ** I see no disgrace or ruin, Mrs Bradshaw. Adele has 
 told me that a gentleman had proposed marriage to her, 
 and asked my advice." 
 
 ** Indeed ! " exclaimed Mrs Bradshaw. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well, that alters the case; but still, why did she 
 leave in this strange way ? " 
 
 " I presume the gentleman did not think it right that 
 she should marry out of a young ladies' establishment, 
 madam." 
 
 " Very true : I did not think of that." 
 
 " After all, what is it ? Your French teacher is married 
 — surely that will not injure your establishment ? " 
 
 " No, certainly — why should it ? — but the news came 
 upon me so abruptly, that it quite upset me. I will lie 
 down a little, and my head will soon be better." 
 
 Time went on ; so did the school. Miss Adele, that 
 was, sent no wedding-cake, much to the astonishment of 
 the young ladies ; and it was not till nearly three weeks 
 afterwards that I had a letter from Adele Chabot, now 
 Mrs Jervis. But, before I give the letter to my readers, 
 I must state, that Mr Selwyn, junior, had called upon me 
 the day before Caroline went to school, and had had a 
 long conversation with her, while I went out to speak 
 with Madame Gironac on business : further, that Mr 
 Selwyn, junior, called upon me a few days afterwards, and 
 after a little common-place conversation, a Panglaise^ about 
 the weather, he asked after Miss Caroline Stanhope, and 
 then asked many questions. As I knew what he wished, 
 I made to him a full statement of her position, and the 
 unpleasant predicament in which she was placed. I also 
 stated my conviction that she was not likely to make a 
 happy match, if her husband were selected by her father 
 and mother ; and how much I regretted it, as she was a 
 very amiable, kind-hearted girl, who would make an 
 excellent wife to anyone deserving of her. He thought 
 so, too, and professed great admiration of her ; and having, 
 as he thought, pumped me sufficiently, he took his leave. 
 
200 Valerie 
 
 A few days afterwards, he came upon some pretended 
 message from his father, and then I told him that she was 
 to be removed in October. This appeared to distress 
 him J but he did not forget to pull out of his pocket a 
 piece of music, sealed up, telling me that, by mistake, 
 Caroline had left two pieces of music at Kew, and had 
 taken away one belonging to his sister Mary ; that he 
 returned one, but the other was mislaid, and would be 
 returned as soon as it was found ; and would I oblige 
 him so far as to request Miss Stanhope to send him the 
 piece of music belonging to his sister, if she could lay 
 her hand upon it ? 
 
 " Well, I will do your bidding, Mr Selwyn," replied I ; 
 ** it is a very proper message for a music-mistress to take ; 
 and I will also bring back your sister's music, when 
 Caroline gives it me, and you can call here for it. If I 
 am out, you can ask Madame Gironac to give it to you." 
 Upon which, with many thanks and much gratitude for 
 my kindness, Mr Selwyn withdrew. 
 
 Having made all this known to the reader, he shall now 
 have the contents of Adele's letter. 
 
 Chapter XI 
 
 We must now read Adele's letter. 
 
 " My dear Valerie, — The die is cast, and I have now 
 a most difficult game to play. I have risked all upon it, 
 and the happiness of my future life is at stake. But let 
 me narrate what has passed since I made you my 
 confidante. Of course, you must know the day on which 
 I was missing. On that day I walked out with him, and 
 we were in a few minutes joined by a friend of his, whom 
 he introduced as Major Argat. After proceeding about 
 one hundred yards farther we arrived at a chapel, the 
 
Valerie 201 
 
 doors of which were open, and the verger looking out, 
 evidently expecting somebody. 
 
 " ' My dear angel,' said the Colonel, * I have the license 
 in my pocket ; I have requested the clergyman to attend, 
 he is now in the chapel, and all is ready. My friend will 
 be a witness, and there are others in attendance. You 
 have said that you love me, trust yourself to me. Prove 
 now that you are sincere, and consent at once that our 
 hands as well as our hearts be united.' 
 
 " Oh! how I trembled. I could not speak. The words 
 died away upon my lips. I looked at him imploringly. 
 He led me gently, for my resistance was more in manner 
 than in effect, and I found myself within the chapel, the 
 verger bowing as he preceded us, and the clergyman 
 waiting at the altar. To retreat appeared impossible ; 
 indeed I hardly felt as if I wished it, but my feelings 
 were so excited that I burst into tears. What the clergy- 
 man may have thought of my conduct, and my being 
 dressed so little like a bride, I know not, but the Colonel 
 handed the license to his friend, who took it to the 
 clergyman while I was recovering myself. At last we 
 went up to the altar, my head swam, and I hardly knew 
 what was said, but I repeated the responses, and I was — a 
 wife. When the ceremony was over, and I was attempting 
 to rise from my knees, I fell, and was carried by the 
 Colonel into the vestry, where I remained on a chair 
 trembling with fear. After a time, the colonel asked me 
 if I was well enough to sign my name to the marriage 
 register, and he put the pen in my hand. I could not see 
 where to sign, my eyes were swimming with tears. The 
 clergyman guided my hand to the place, and I wrote 
 Adele Chabot. The knowledge what the effect of this 
 signature might possibly have upon my husband quite 
 overcame me, and I sank my head down upon my hands 
 upon the table. 
 
 " ' I will send for a glass of water, sir,' said the clergy- 
 man leaving the vestry to call the verger, or clerk, * the 
 lady is fainting.' 
 
202 Valerie 
 
 " After he went out, I heard the Colonel and his friend 
 speaking in low tones apart. Probably they thought that 
 I was not in a condition to pay attention to them, — but I 
 had too much at stake. 
 
 ** * Yes,' replied the Colonel, ' she has signed, as you 
 say, but she hardly knows what she is about. Depend 
 upon it, it is as I told you.' 
 
 ** I did not hear the Major's reply, but I did what the 
 Colonel said. 
 
 *' ' It's all the better ; the marriage will not be legal, 
 and I can bring the parents to my own terms.' 
 
 " All doubt was now at an end. He had married me 
 convinced, and still convinced that I was Caroline Stanhope, 
 and not Adele Chabot, and he had married me supposing 
 that I was an heiress. My blood ran cold, and in a few 
 seconds I was senseless, and should have fallen under 
 the table had they not perceived that I was sinking, 
 and ran to my support. The arrival of the clergyman 
 with the water recovered me. My husband whispered to 
 me that it was time to go, and that a carriage was at the 
 door. I do not recollect how I left the church; the 
 motion of the carriage first roused me up, and a flood of 
 tears came to my relief. How strange is it, Valerie, that 
 we should be so courageous and such cowards at the same 
 time. Would you believe when I had collected myself, 
 with a certain knowledge that my husband had deceived 
 himself — a full conviction of the danger of my position 
 when he found out his mistake, and that my future happi- 
 ness was at stake — I felt glad that the deed was done, 
 and would not have been unmarried again for the universe. 
 As I became more composed, I felt that it was time to act. 
 I wiped away my tears and said, as I smiled upon my 
 husband, who held my hand in his, * I know that I have 
 behaved very ill, and very foolishly, but I was so taken 
 by surprise.' 
 
 " * Do you think that I love you the less for show- 
 ing so much feeling, my dearest ? ' he replied, * no, 
 no, it only makes you still more dear to me, as it 
 
Valerie 203 
 
 convinces me what a sacrifice you have made for my 
 sake.' 
 
 "Now, Valerie, could there be a prettier speech, or 
 one so apparently sincere, from a newly-married man to 
 his bride, and yet recollect what he said to his friend not a 
 quarter of an hour before, about having my parents in his 
 power by the marriage not being legal ? I really am 
 inclined to believe that we have two souls, a good and an 
 evil one, continually striving for the mastery ; one for this 
 world, and the other for the next, and that the evil one 
 will permit the good one to have its influence, provided 
 that at the same time it has its own or an equal share in 
 the direction of us. For instance, I believe the colonel 
 was sincere in what he said, and really does love me, 
 supposing me to be Caroline Stanhope, with the mundane 
 advantages to be gained by the marriage, and that these 
 better feelings of humanity are allowed to be exercised, 
 and not interfered with by the adverse party, who is satis- 
 fied with its own Mammon share. But the struggle is to 
 come when the evil spirit finds itself defrauded of its 
 portion, and then attempts to destroy the influence of the 
 good. He does love me now, and would have continued to 
 love me, if disappointment will not tear up his still slightly- 
 rooted affections. Now comes my task to cherish and 
 protect it, till it has taken firm root, and all that woman 
 can do shall be done. I felt that all that I required was 
 time. 
 
 " * Where are we going ? ' said I. 
 
 ** ' About twenty miles from London,' replied my 
 husband, ' after which, that is to-morrow, you shall decide 
 upon our future plans.' 
 
 " * I care not where,' replied I, * with you place is 
 indifferent, only do not refuse me the first favour that I 
 request of you.' 
 
 " * Depend upon it I will not,' replied he. 
 
 " * It is this, dearest, take me where you will, but let it 
 be three months before we return or come near London. 
 You must feel my reason for making this request.' 
 
204 Valerie 
 
 ** * I grant it with pleasure,' replied he, * for three months 
 I am yours, and yours only. We will live for one 
 another.' 
 
 " * Yes, and never let us mention any thing about future 
 prospects, but devote the three months to each other.' 
 
 " ' I understand you,' replied the colonel, * and I promise 
 you it shall be so. I will have no correspondence even — 
 there shall be nothing to annoy you or vex you in any 
 way.' 
 
 " * For three months,' said I, extending my hand. 
 
 " ' Agreed,' said he, * and to tell you the truth, it would 
 have been my own feeling, had it not been yours. When 
 you strike iron, you should do it when it is hot, but 
 when you have to handle it, you had better wait till 
 it is cool ; you understand me, and now the subject 
 is dropped.' 
 
 " My husband has adhered most religiously to his word 
 up to the present time, as you will see by the date of 
 this letter. We are now visiting the lakes of Cumberland. 
 Never could a spot be better situated for the furtherance 
 of my wishes. The calm repose and silent beauty of 
 these waters must be reflected upon the mind of any one 
 of feeling, which the colonel certainly does not want, 
 and when you consider that I am exerting all the art 
 which poor woman has to please, I do hope and pray to 
 heaven that I may succeed in entwining myself round his 
 heart before his worldly views are destroyed by dis- 
 appointment. Pray for me, dear Valerie — pray for one 
 who loves you dearly, and who feels that the whole 
 happiness of her life is at stake. — Yours, 
 
 " Adele." 
 
 " So far all goes well, my dear Adele," thought I, 
 " but we have yet to see the end. I will pray for you 
 with all my heart, for you deserve to be happy, and none 
 can be more fascinating than you, when you exert yourself. 
 What is it in women that I do not feel which makes them 
 so mad after the other sex ? Instinct, certainly, for reason 
 
Valerie 205 
 
 is against it. Well, I have no objection to help others 
 to commit the folly, provided that I am not led into it 
 myself." Such were my reflections, as I closed the letter 
 from Adele. 
 
 A few days afterwards I received a note from Mr 
 Selwyn, junior, informing me that his father had been 
 made a puisne judge. What that was I did not know, 
 except that he was a judge on the bench, of some kind. 
 He also stated his intention of caUing upon me on the 
 next day. 
 
 " Yes," thought I, "to receive the music from Caroline. 
 Of course, she will return it to me when I give her a 
 lesson to-day." 
 
 I was right in my supposition. Caroline brought me 
 a piece of music with a note, saying, ** Here is the music 
 belonging to Miss Selwyn, Valerie ; will you take an 
 opportunity of returning it to her ? Any time will do ; I 
 presume she is in no hurry," and Caroline coloured up, 
 when her eyes met mine. 
 
 " To punish her," I replied, " Oh, no, there can be no 
 hurry ; I shall be down at Kew in a fortnight or three 
 weeks, I will take it with me then." 
 
 " But my note, thanking Mr Selwyn, will be of very 
 long date," replied Caroline, " and I want the other piece 
 of music belonging to me which I left at Kew." 
 
 " Well, Caroline, you cannot expect me to be carrying 
 your messages and going to the chambers of a handsome 
 young Chancery-barrister. By-the-bye, I had a note 
 from him this morning, telling me that his father is 
 advanced to the bench. What does that mean ? " 
 
 " That his father is made a judge. Is that all he said?" 
 replied Caroline, carelessly. 
 
 ** Why, now I think of it, he said that he would call 
 upon me to-morrow, so I can give him this music when he 
 calls." 
 
 At this intelligence Caroline's face brightened up, and 
 she went away. Mr Selwyn called the next day, and I 
 delivered the music and the note. He informed me that 
 
2o6 Valerie 
 
 he had now all his father's private as well as Chancery- 
 business, and wished to know whether he was to consider 
 himself my legal adviser. I replied, 
 
 " Certainly ; but that he could not expect the business 
 of a teacher of music to be very profitable." 
 
 ** No, nor do I intend that it shall be, but it will be a 
 great pleasure," replied he, very gallantly. " I hope you 
 have some money to put by." 
 
 " Yes," replied I, " I have some, but not quite enough; 
 by the end of the year I hope to have ^^500." 
 
 " I am glad that you have told me, as a profitable invest- 
 ment may occur before that time, and I will secure it for 
 you." 
 
 He asked permission to read Caroline's note, and then 
 said that he would find the other piece of music, and leave it 
 at Monsieur Gironac's in the course of a day or two — after 
 which he took his leave. I received that evening a letter 
 from Lionel, which had a great effect upon me. In it, he 
 stated that at the fencing-school he had made acquaintance 
 with a young officer, a Monsieur Auguste de Chatenoeuf, 
 — that he had mentioned to him that he knew a lady of his 
 name in England ; that the officer had asked him what the 
 age of the lady might be, and he had replied. 
 
 " Strange," said the officer ♦, " I had a very dear sister, 
 who was supposed to be drowned, although the body was 
 never found. Can you tell me the baptismal name of the 
 lady you mention ? " 
 
 " It then occurred to me," continued Lionel, " that I 
 might be imprudent if I answered, and I therefore said that 
 I did not know, but I thought you had been called by your 
 friends, Annette." 
 
 " * Then it cannot be she,' replied he, * for my sister's 
 name was Valerie. But she may have changed her name 
 — describe to me her face and figure.' 
 
 " As I at once felt certain that you were the party, and 
 was aware, that the early portion of your life was never 
 referred to by you, I thought it advisable to put him oft 
 the scent, until I had made this communication. I there- 
 
Valerie 207 
 
 fore replied, * That ' (excuse me) * you were very plain, 
 with a pug nose, and very short and fat.' 
 
 " * Then it must be somebody else,' replied the officer. 
 
 * You made my heart beat when you first spoke about her, 
 for I loved my sister dearly, and have never ceased to 
 lament her loss.' 
 
 " He then talked a great deal of you, and gave me some 
 history of your former life. I took the opportunity to ask 
 whether your unnatural mother was alive, and he said, 
 
 * Yes, and that your father was also alive and well.' 
 
 **I did not dare to ask more. Have I done right or 
 wrong, my dear Mademoiselle Chatenoeuf .f* If wrong, I 
 can easily repair the error. Your brother, for such I pre- 
 sume he is, I admire very much. He is very different 
 from the officers of the French army in general, quite 
 subdued, and very courteous, and there is a kind spirit in 
 all he says, which makes me like him more. You have no 
 idea of the feeling he showed, when he talked about you 
 — that is, if it is you — which I cannot but feel almost 
 certain that it is. One observation of his, I think it right 
 to make known to you, which is, that he told me that since 
 your supposed death, your father had never held up his 
 head; indeed, he said that he had never seen him smile 
 since." 
 
 The above extract from Lionel's letter created such a 
 revulsion, that I was obliged to retire to my chamber to 
 conceal my agitated feelings from Madame Gironac. I 
 wept bitterly for some time. I thought of what my poor 
 father must have suffered, and the regrets of poor Augusta 
 at my supposed death ; and I doubted whether I was 
 justified in the act I had committed, by the treatment I 
 had received from my mother. If she had caused me so 
 much pain, was I right in having given so much to others 
 who loved me .? My poor father, he had never smiled 
 since ! Should I permit him to wear out his days in 
 sorrowing for my loss — oh, no ! I no longer felt any 
 animosity against others who had ill-treated me. Surely, 
 I could forgive even my mother, if not for love of her, at 
 
2o8 Valerie 
 
 all events for love of my father and my brother. Yes, 
 I would do so, I was now independent of my mother and 
 all the family. I had nothing to fear from her ; I could 
 assist my family, if they required it. 
 
 Such were my first feelings — but then came doubts and 
 fears. Could not my mother claim me ? insist upon my 
 living with her ? prevent my earning my livelihood ? or if 
 I did employ myself, could she not take from me all my 
 earnings ? Yes, by the law of France, I thought she could. 
 Then again, would she forgive me the three years of 
 remorse ? the three years during which she had been under 
 the stigma of having, by her barbarity, caused her child to 
 commit self-destruction ? the three years of reproach which 
 she must have experienced from my father's clouded 
 brow ? Would she ever forgive me for having obtained 
 my independence by the very talents which she would not 
 allow me to cultivate ? No, never, unless her heart was 
 changed. 
 
 After many hours of reflection, I resolved that I would 
 make known my existence to Auguste, and permit him to 
 acquaint my father, under a promise of secrecy, but that I 
 would not trust myself in France, or allow my mother to 
 be aware of my existence, until I could ascertain what her 
 power might be over me. But before I decided upon 
 any thing, I made up my mind that I would make a con- 
 fidant, and obtain the opinion of Judge Selwyn. By the 
 evening's post I wrote a note to him, requesting that he 
 would let me know when I might have an interview. 
 
 An answer arrived the next day, stating, that Judge 
 Selwyn would call and take me down with him to Kew, 
 where I should sleep, and return to town with him on the 
 following morning. This suited me very well, and, as 
 soon as the carriage was off the stones, I said that I was 
 now about to confide to him that portion of my life with 
 which he was unacquainted, and ask his advice how I 
 ought to proceed, in consequence of some intelligence 
 lately communicated by Lionel. I then went into the 
 whole detail, until I arrived at my being taken away from 
 
Valerie 209 
 
 the barracks by Madame d'Albret ; the remainder of my 
 life he knew sufficient of, and I then gave him Lionel's 
 letter to read, and when he had done so, I stated to him 
 what my wishes and what my fears were, and begged him 
 to decide for me what was best to be done. 
 
 "This is an eventful history, Valerie," said the old 
 gentleman. "I agree with you on the propriety of making 
 your existence known to your brother, and also to your 
 father, who has been sufficiently punished for his cowardice. 
 Whether your father will be able to contain his secret, I 
 doubt very much; and from what you have told me of 
 your mother, I should certainly not trust myself in France. 
 I am not very well informed of the laws of the country, 
 but it is my impression that children are there under the 
 control of their parents until they are married. Go to 
 France I therefore would not, unless it were as a married 
 woman : then you will be safe. When does Lionel 
 come over ? " 
 
 ** He will come at any time if I say I wish it." 
 
 "Then let him come over, and invite your brother to 
 come with him, then you can arrange with him. I really 
 wish you were married, Valerie, and I wish also that my 
 son was married ; I should like to be a grandfather before 
 I die." 
 
 "With respect to my marrying, sir, I see little chance 
 of that ; I dislike the idea, and, in fact, it would be better 
 to be with my mother at once, for I prefer an old tyranny 
 to a new one." 
 
 " It does not follow, my dear Valerie ; depend upon it 
 there are many happy marriages. Am I a tyrant in my 
 own house ? Does my wife appear to be a slave ? " 
 
 " There are many happy exceptions, my dear sir," 
 replied I. " With respect to your son's marrying, I think 
 you need not despair of that ; for it is my opinion that he 
 very soon will be — but this is a secret, and I must say no 
 more." 
 
 " Indeed," replied the judge, " I know of no one, and 
 he would hardly marry without consulting me." 
 V o 
 
2 1 o Valerie 
 
 " Yes, sir, I think that he will, and I shall advise him 
 so to do — as it is necessary that nothing should be known 
 till it is over. Trust to me, sir, that if it does take place, 
 you will be quite satisfied with the choice which he makes ; 
 but I must have your pledge not to say one word about it. 
 You might spoil all." 
 
 The old judge fell back in his carriage in a reverie, 
 which lasted some little while, and then said, 
 
 "Valerie, I believe that I understand you now. If it is 
 as I guess, I certainly agree with you that I will ask no 
 more questions, as I should for many reasons not wish it 
 to appear that I know any thing about it." 
 
 Soon afterwards we arrived at Kew, and, after a pleasant 
 visit, on the following morning early, I returned to town 
 with the judge. I then wrote to Lionel, making known to 
 him as much as was necessary, under pledge of secrecy, 
 and stating my wish that he should follow up my brother's 
 acquaintance, and the next time that he came over, persuade 
 him to accompany him, but that he was not to say any thing 
 to him relative to my being his sister, on any account 
 whatever. 
 
 Young Selwyn called the same day that I came from 
 Kew, with the piece of music which was missing. I made 
 no remarks upon the fact, that the music might have been 
 delivered to me by his sister, because I felt assured that it 
 contained a note more musical than any in the score ; I 
 gave it to Caroline, and a few days afterwards, observing 
 that she was pale and restless, I obtained permission for 
 her to go out with me for the day. Mr Selwyn happened 
 to call a few minutes after our arrival at Madame Gironac's, 
 and that frequently occurred for nearly two months, when 
 the time arrived that she was to be removed from the 
 school. 
 
 The reader will, of course, perceive that I was assisting 
 this affair as much as I could. I admit it ; and I did so 
 out of gratitude to Mr Selwyn's father, for his kindness to 
 me. I knew Caroline to be a good girl, and well suited to 
 Mr Selwyn ; I knew that she must eventually have a very 
 
Valerie 211 
 
 large fortune ; and, provided that her father and mother 
 would not be reconciled to their daughter after the 
 marriage, that Mr Selwyn had the means, by his practice, 
 of supporting her comfortably without their assistance. 
 I considered that I did a kindness to Caroline and to Mr 
 Selwyn, and therefore did not hesitate ; besides, I had 
 other ideas on the subject, which eventually turned out as 
 I expected, and proved that I was right. 
 
 On the last day of September, Caroline slipped out, and 
 followed me to Madame Gironac's ; Mr Selwyn was ready 
 with the license. We walked to church, the ceremony 
 was performed, and Mr Selwyn took his bride down to 
 his father's house at Kew. The old judge was somewhat 
 prepared for the event, and received her very graciously. 
 Mrs Selwyn and his sisters were partial to Caroline, and 
 followed the example of the judge. Nothing could pass 
 off more quietly or more pleasantly. For reasons which I 
 did not explain, I requested Mr Selwyn, for the present, 
 not to make known his marriage to Caroline's parents, as I 
 considered it would be attended with great and certain 
 advantage ; and he promised me that he would not only be 
 silent upon the subject, but that all his family should be 
 equally so. 
 
 If Mrs Bradshaw required two bottles of eau-de-Cologne 
 and water to support her when she heard of the elopement 
 of Adele Chabot, I leave the reader to imagine how many 
 she required, when an heiress entrusted to her charge had 
 been guilty of a similar act. 
 
 As Caroline had not left with me, I was not implicated, 
 and the affair was most inscrutable. She had never been 
 seen v/alking, or known to correspond with any young 
 man. I suggested to Mrs Bradshaw that it was the fear 
 of her father removing her from her protection which had 
 induced her to run away, and that most probably she had 
 gone to her aunt Bathurst's. Upon this hint, she wrote 
 to Mr Stanhope, acquainting him with his daughter's 
 disappearance, and giving it as her opinion that she had 
 gone to her aunt's, being very unwilling to return home. 
 
212 
 
 Valerie 
 
 Mr Stanhope was furious ; he immediately drove to 
 Madame Bathurst's, whom he had not seen for a long 
 time, and demanded his daughter. Madame Bathurst 
 declared that she knew nothing about her. Mr Stanhope 
 expressed his disbelief, and they parted in high words. 
 
 A few days afterwards, the Colonel and Adele came to 
 town, the three months acceded to her wishes having 
 expired ; and now I must relate what I did not know till 
 some days afterwards, when I saw Adele, and who had 
 the narrative from her husband. 
 
 It appeared, that as soon as the Colonel arrived in 
 London, still persuaded that he had married Caroline 
 Stanhope, and not Adele Chabot, without stating his 
 intention to her, he went to Grosvenor Square, and re- 
 quested to see Mr Stanhope. This was about a fortnight 
 after Caroline's elopement with Mr Selwyn. He was 
 admitted, and found Mr and Mrs Stanhope in the drawing- 
 room. He had sent up his card, and Mr Stanhope re- 
 ceived him with great hauteur. 
 
 ** What may your pleasure be with me, sir ? " (looking 
 at the card). "Colonel Jervis, I think you call yourself?" 
 
 Now, Colonel Jervis was a man well known about town, 
 and, in his own opinion, not to know him argued yourself 
 unknown ; he was, therefore, not a little angry at this 
 reception, and being a really well-bred man, was also 
 much startled with the vulgarity of both parties. 
 
 " My name, Mr Stanhope, as you are pleased to 
 observe," said the Colonel, with hauteur, ** is Jervis, and 
 my business with you is relative to your daughter." 
 
 " My daughter, sir ? " 
 
 " Our daughter ! Why, you don't mean to tell us that 
 you have run away with our daughter ? " screamed Mrs 
 Stanhope. 
 
 " Yes, madam, such is the fact ; she is now my wife, 
 and I trust that she is not married beneath herself." 
 
 " A Colonel ! — a paltry Colonel ! — a match for my 
 daughter ! Why, with her fortune she might have 
 married a Duke," screamed Mrs Stanhope. " I'll never 
 
Valerie 213 
 
 speak to the wretch again. A Colonel, indeed ! I suppose 
 a Militia-Colonel. I daresay you are only a Captain, after 
 all. Well, take her to barracks, and to barracks your- 
 self. You may leave the house. Not a penny — no, not a 
 penny do you get. Does he, Stanhope ? " 
 
 *' Not one half a farthing," replied Mr Stanhope, pom- 
 pously. " Go, sir •, Mrs Stanhope's sentiments are mine." 
 
 The Colonel, who was in a towering passion at the 
 treatment he received, now started up, and said, " Sir and 
 Madam, you appear to me not to understand the usages of 
 good society, and I positively declare, that had 1 been 
 aware of the insufferable vulgarity of her parents, nothing 
 would have induced me to marry the daughter. I tell 
 you this, because I care nothing for you. You are on 
 the stilts at present, but I shall soon bring you to your 
 senses ; for know. Sir and Madam, although I did elope 
 with and married your daughter, the marriage is not legal, 
 as she was married under a false name, and that was her 
 own act — not mine. You may, therefore, prepare to receive 
 your daughter back, when I think fit to send her — dis- 
 graced and dishonoured ; and then try if you can match 
 her with a Duke. I leave you to digest this piece of 
 information, and now wish you good-morning. You have 
 my address, when you feel inclined to apologize, and do 
 me the justice which I shall expect before a legal marriage 
 takes place." 
 
 So saying, the Colonel left the house ; and it would be 
 difficult to say which of the three parties was in the 
 greatest rage. 
 
 The Colonel, who had become sincerely attached to 
 Adele, who had well profited by the time which she had 
 gained, returned home in no very pleasant humour. 
 Throwing himself down on the sofa, he said to her in a 
 moody way, 
 
 " I'll be candid with you, my dear ; if I had seen your 
 father and mother before I married you, nothing would 
 have persuaded me to have made you my wife. When a 
 man marries, I consider connexion and fortune to be the 
 
214 Valerie 
 
 two greatest points to be obtained, but such animals as 
 your father and mother I never beheld. Good Heaven ! 
 that I should be allied to such people ! " 
 
 " May I ask you, dearest, to whom you refer, and what 
 is the meaning of all this ? My father and mother ! Why, 
 Colonel, my father was killed at the attack of Montmartre, 
 and my mother died before him." 
 
 *' Then who and what are you," cried the Colonel, 
 jumping up ; " are you not Caroline Stanhope ? " 
 
 " I thank Heaven I am not. I have always told you 
 that I was Adele Chabot, and no other person. You must 
 admit that. My father and mother were no vulgar people, 
 dearest husband, and my family is as good as most in France. 
 Come over with me to Paris, and you will then see who 
 my relatives and connexions are. I am poor, I grant, but 
 recollect that the revolution exiled many wealthy families, 
 and mine among the rest, although we were permitted 
 eventually to return to France. What can have induced 
 you to fall into this error, and still persist (notwithstanding 
 my assertions to the contrary), that I am the daughter of 
 those vulgar upstarts, who are proverbial for their want 
 of manners, and who are not admitted into hardly any 
 society, rich as they are supposed to be ? " 
 
 The Colonel looked all amazement. 
 
 " I'm sorry you are disappointed, dearest," continued 
 Adele, "if you are so. I am sorry that I'm not Caroline 
 Stanhope with a large fortune, but if I do not bring you a 
 fortune, by economy I will save you one. Let me only see 
 that you are not deprived of your usual pleasures and 
 luxuries, and I care not what I do or how I live. You will 
 find no exacting wife in me, dearest, troubling you for 
 expenses you cannot afford. I will live but to please you, 
 and if I do not succeed, I will die — if you wish to be rid of 
 me." 
 
 Adele resumed her caresses with the tears running 
 down her cheeks, for she loved her husband dearly, and 
 felt what she said. 
 
 The Colonel could not resist her : he put his arms 
 
Valerie 215 
 
 round her and said, " Do not cry, Adele, I believe you, 
 and, moreover, I feel that I love you. I am thankful 
 that I have not married Caroline Stanhope, for I presume 
 she cannot be very different from her parents. I admit 
 that I have been deceiving myself, and that I have 
 deceived myself into a better little wife than I deserve, 
 perhaps. I really am glad of my escape. I would not 
 have been connected with those people for the universe. 
 We will do as you say : we will go to France for a short 
 time, and you shall introduce me to your relations." 
 
 Before the next morning, Adele had gained the victory. 
 The Colonel felt that he had deceived himself, that he 
 might be laughed at, and that the best that could be done 
 was to go to Paris and announce from thence his marriage 
 in the papers. He had a sufficiency to live upon, to 
 command luxury as well as comforts, and on the whole 
 he was now satisfied, that a handsome and strongly- 
 attached wife, who brought him no fortune, was preferable 
 to a marriage of mere interest. I may as well here 
 observe, that Adele played her cards so well, that the 
 Colonel was a happy and contented man. She kept her 
 promise, and he found with her management that he had 
 more money than a married man required, and he blessed 
 the day in which he had married by mistake. And now 
 to return to the Stanhopes. 
 
 Although they were too angry at the time to pay much 
 heed to the Colonel's parting threats, yet when they had 
 cooled, and had time for reflection, Mr and Mrs Stanhope 
 were much distressed at the intelligence that their 
 daughter was not legally married. For some days, they 
 remained quiet, at last they thought it advisable to come 
 to terms to save their daughter's honour. But during 
 this delay on their part, Adele had called upon me, and 
 introduced her husband and made me acquainted with 
 all that had passed. They stated their intention of pro- 
 ceeding to Paris immediately, and although I knew that 
 Adele's relations were of good family, yet I thought an 
 introduction to Madame d'Albret would be of service to 
 
2 1 6 Valerie 
 
 her. I therefore gave her one, and it proved most 
 serviceable, for the Colonel found himself in the first 
 society in Paris, and his wife was well received and much 
 admired. When, therefore, Mr Stanhope made up his 
 mind to call upon the Colonel at the address of the hotel 
 where they had put up, he found they had left, and 
 nobody knew where they had gone. This was a severe 
 blow, and Mr and Mrs Stanhope were in a state of the 
 utmost uncertainty and suspense. Now was the time 
 for Mr Selwyn to come forward, and I despatched a note 
 to him, requesting him to come to town. I put him in 
 possession of Adele's history, her marriage with the 
 Colonel, and all the particulars with which the reader is 
 acquainted, and I pointed out to him how he should act 
 when he called upon Mr Stanhope, which I advised him 
 to do immediately. He followed my advice, and thus 
 described what passed on his return. 
 
 " I sent up my card to Mr and Mrs Stanhope, and was 
 received almost as politely as the Colonel. I made no 
 remark, but taking a chair, which was not oiFered to me, 
 I said, * You have my card, Mr Stanhope, I must,, in 
 addition to my name, inform you that I am a barrister, 
 and that my father is Judge Selwyn, who now sits on 
 the King's Bench. You probably have met him in the 
 circles in which you visit, although you are not acquainted 
 with him. Your sister, Madame Bathurst, we have the 
 pleasure of knowing.' 
 
 " This introduction made them look more civil, for a 
 Judge was with them somebody. 
 
 *' * My object in coming here is to speak to you relative 
 to your daughter.' 
 
 ** * Do you come from the Colonel, then ? ' said Mrs 
 Stanhope, sharply. 
 
 " * No, madam. I have no acquaintance with the Colonel.' 
 
 '^ * Then how do you know my daughter, sir ? ' 
 
 " ' I had the pleasure of meeting her at my father's. 
 She stayed a short time with my family at our country 
 seat at Kew.' 
 
Valerie 217 
 
 " ' Indeed ! ' exclaimed Mrs Stanhope, * well I had no 
 idea of that. Tm sure the Judge was very kind ; but, 
 sir, you know that my daughter has married very un- 
 fortunately.' 
 
 ** * That she has married, madam, I am aware, but I 
 trust not unfortunately.' 
 
 '* ' Why, sir, she has married a colonel, — a fellow who 
 came here and told us it was no marriage at all ! ' 
 
 " * It is to rectify that mistake, madam, which has 
 induced me to call. The Colonel, madam, did hear that 
 your daughter was at Mrs Bradshaw's establishment, and 
 wished to carry her off, supposing that she was a very 
 rich prize, but, madam, he made a slight mistake — instead 
 of your daughter, he has run away and married the French 
 teacher, who has not a sixpence. He has now found out 
 his mistake, and is off to Paris to hide himself from the 
 laughter of the town.' 
 
 " This intelligence was the cause of much mirth and 
 glee to Mr and Mrs Stanhope ; the latter actually cried 
 with delight, and I took care to join heartily in the merri- 
 ment. As soon as it had subsided, Mrs Stanhope said, — 
 
 " * But Mr Selwyn, you said that my daughter was 
 married. How is that ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, madam, the fact is, that your daughter's 
 affections were engaged at the time of this elopement 
 of the Colonel's, and it was her intention to make known 
 to you that such was the case, presuming that you would 
 not refuse to sanction her marriage ; but, when the elope- 
 ment took place, and it was even reported that she had 
 run away, her position became very awkward, and the 
 more so, as some people declared (as the Colonel asserted), 
 that she was not legally married. On consulting with 
 the gentleman of her choice, it was argued thus : If Miss 
 Stanhope goes back to her father's house after this report 
 that she is not legally married, it will be supposed that 
 the Colonel, finding that he was disappointed in his views, 
 had returned her dishonoured upon her parents' hands, 
 and no subsequent marriage would remove the impression. 
 
2 1 8 Valerie 
 
 It was therefore considered advisable, both on her parents' 
 account and on her own, that she also should elope, and 
 then it would be easily explained that it was somebody 
 else who had eloped with the Colonel, and that Miss 
 Stanhope had married in a secret way. Miss Stanhope, 
 therefore, was properly married in church before respect- 
 able witnesses, and conducted immediately afterwards by 
 her husband to his father's house, who approved of what 
 was done, as now no reflection can be made, either upon 
 Miss Stanhope or her respectable parents.' 
 
 *^ * Well, let us all know the person to whom she is 
 married.' " 
 
 "*To myself, madam, and your daughter is now at 
 Judge Selwyn's, where she has been ever since her 
 marriage, with my mother and sisters. My father would 
 have accompanied me, to explain all this, but the fact is, 
 that his lordship is now so much occupied that he could 
 not. He will, however, be happy to see Mr Stanhope, 
 who is an idle man, either at his town house, or at his 
 country seat. I trust, madam, as I have the honour to 
 be your son-in-law, you will permit me to kiss your 
 hand ? ' 
 
 ** ' Caroline may have done worse, my dear,' said the 
 lady to her husband, who was still wavering. * Mr 
 Selwyn may be a judge himself, or he may be a Lord 
 Chancellor, recollect that. Mr Selwyn you are welcome, 
 and I shall be most happy to see his lordship, and my 
 husband shall call upon him when we know when he 
 will be at leisure. Oh ! that Colonel, but he's rightly 
 served, a French teacher. Ha, ha, ha ! ' and Mrs 
 Stanhope's mirth was communicated to her husband, who 
 now held out his hand to me in a most patronising 
 manner. 
 
 ** 'Well, sir, I give you joy. I believe you have saved 
 my daughter's character, and my dear,' added he, very 
 pompously, * we must do something for the young people.' 
 
 " ' I trust, sir, I bear your forgiveness to Caroline.' 
 
 " * Yes, you do, Mr Selwyn,' said the lady. * Bring her 
 
Valerie 219 
 
 here as soon as you please. Oh that Colonel ! ha, ha, ha ! 
 and it is capital. A French teacher. Ha, ha, ha.' " 
 
 Such was the winding up of this second marriage. Had 
 not Mr and Mrs Stanhope been much subdued by the intel- 
 ligence received from the Colonel of the marriage being 
 illegal, and had they not also been much gratified at the 
 mistake of the Colonel, things might not have gone off so 
 pleasantly. I have only to add, that Mr Stanhope, who 
 appeared to obey his wife in every thing, called upon the 
 Judge, and their interview was very amicable. Mr Stan- 
 hope, upon the Judge stating that his son had sufficient 
 income, immediately became profuse, and settled ^2000 
 per annum upon his daughter, during his life, with a 
 promise of much more eventually. Caroline was graciously 
 received by her mother, and presented with some splendid 
 diamonds. The Judge told me that he knew the part I 
 had taken in the affair, and shook his finger at me. 
 
 Thus ended this affair, and Madame Gironac, when she 
 heard how busy I had been in the two elopements, said, 
 
 "Ah, Valerie, you begin by marrying other people. 
 You will end in finding a husband for yourself." 
 
 ** That is quite another thing, madam," I replied. " I 
 have no objection in assisting other people to their wishes, 
 but it does not follow that therefore I am to seek for 
 myself what I do not wish." 
 
 " Valerie, I am a prophetess. You will be married 
 some time next year. Mark my words." 
 
 ** I will not forget them, and at the end of the year we 
 shall see who is right, and who is wrong." 
 
 After all this bustle and turmoil, there was a calm, 
 which lasted the whole winter. I followed up my usual 
 avocations. I had as many pupils as I could attend to, 
 and saved money fast. The winter passed away, and in 
 the spring I expected Lionel with my brother Auguste. 
 I looked forward to seeing my brother with great impa- 
 tience ; not a day that he was out of my thoughts. I was 
 most anxious to hear of my father, my brothers, and 
 sisters, and every particular connected with the family, 
 
220 Valerie 
 
 even my mother was an object of interest, although not of 
 regard, but I had forgiven all others who had ill-treated 
 me, and I felt that I forgave and forgot, if she would 
 behave as a mother towards me. I had received kind 
 letters from Madame d'Albret and Adele ; the letters of 
 the latter were most amusing. Madame Bathurst had 
 called upon me several times. I was at peace with all the 
 world and with myself. At last, I received a letter from 
 Lionel, stating that he was coming over in a few days j 
 that he had great difficulty in persuading my brother to 
 come with him, as he could not afford the expense out of 
 his own means, and did not like to lie under such an 
 obligation. At last, he had been over-ruled, and was 
 coming with him. 
 
 "Then I shall see you again, dear Auguste ! " thought 
 I ; " you who always loved me, always protected me and 
 took my part, and who so lamented my supposed death ; " 
 and my thoughts turned to the time when he and I were 
 with my grandmother in the palace, and our early days were 
 passed over in review. " My poor grandmother, how I 
 loved you ! and how you deserved to be loved ! " And 
 then I calculated what I might have been, had I been left 
 with my grandmother, and had inherited her small 
 property ; and, on reflection, I decided that I was better 
 off now than I probably should have been, and that all 
 was for the best. I thought of the future, and whether it 
 was likely I ever should marry, and I decided that I never 
 would, but that if I ever returned to my family, I would 
 assist my sisters, and try to make them happy. 
 
 " Yes," thought I, " marry I never will — that is decided 
 — nothing shall ever induce me." 
 
 My reverie was interrupted by the entrance of a stranger, 
 who, apologising to me, stated that he had come to seek 
 Monsieur Gironac. 
 
 I replied that he was not at home, and probably it would 
 be half an hour before he returned to dinner. 
 
 "With your leave, mademoiselle," said he, gracefully 
 bo^ving, " I will wait till he returns. I will not, however. 
 
Valerie 221 
 
 trespass upon your time, if it is disagreeable ; perhaps the 
 servant will accommodate me with a chair elsewhere ? " 
 
 I requested that he would be seated, as there was no 
 fire in any other room, and he took a chair. He was a 
 Frenchman, speaking good English, but he soon discovered 
 that I was his countrywoman, and the conversation was 
 carried on in French. He informed me that he was the 
 Comte de Chavannes. But I must describe him. He was 
 rather small in stature, but elegantly made; his features 
 were, if anything, effeminate, but very handsome ; they 
 would have been handsome in a woman. The effeminacy, 
 was, however, relieved by a pair of moustaches, soft, silky, 
 and curling. His manners were peculiarly fascinating, and 
 his conversation lively and full of point. I was much 
 pleased with him during the half hour that we were 
 together, during which we had kept up the conversation 
 with much spirit. The arrival of Monsieur Gironac put 
 an end to our tete-a-tete, and having arranged his business 
 with him, which was relative to some flute-music which 
 the Comte wished to be published, after a few minutes 
 more conversation, he took his leave. 
 
 "Now there's a man that I would select for your 
 husband, Valerie," said Monsieur Gironac, after the 
 Comte had left. "Is he not a very agreeable fellow ? " 
 
 "Yes he is," I replied, "he is very entertaining and 
 very well bred. "Who is he ? " 
 
 " His history is told in few words," replied Monsieur 
 Gironac. " His father emigrated with the Bourbons \ 
 but, unlike most of those who emigrated, he neither 
 turned music-teacher, dancing-master, hair-dresser, nor 
 teacher of the French language. He had a little money, 
 and he embarked in commerce. He went as super-cargo, 
 and then as travelling partner in a house to America, the 
 Havannah, and the West Indies ; and, after having crossed 
 the Atlantic about twenty times in the course of the late 
 war, he amassed a fortune of about ;;^40,ooo. At the 
 restoration, he went to Paris, resumed his title, which he 
 had laid aside during his commercial course, was well 
 
222 Valerie 
 
 received by Louis XVIII., and made a Colonel of the 
 Legion of Honour. He returned to this country to settle 
 his affairs, previous to going down to Brittany, and died 
 suddenly, leaving the young man you have just seen, who 
 is his only son and heir, alone on the wide world, and 
 with a good fortune as soon as he came of age. At the 
 time of his father's death, he was still at school. Now he 
 is twenty-four years old, and has been for three years in 
 possession of the property, which is still in the English 
 funds. He appears to like England better than France, 
 for most of his time is passed in London. He is very 
 talented, very musical, composes well, and is altogether a 
 most agreeable young man, and fit for the husband of 
 Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf. Now you have the 
 whole history, the marriage is yet to take place." 
 
 "Your last observation is correct; or rather it is not, 
 for the marriage will never take place." 
 
 " Mais, que voulez-vous Mademoiselle ? " cried Monsieur 
 Gironac, ** must we send for the angel Gabriel for you ? " 
 
 "No," replied I, "he is not a marrying man any more 
 than I am a marrying woman. Is it not sufficient that I 
 admit your Count to be very agreeable ? — that won't con- 
 tent you. You want me to marry a man whom I have 
 seen for one half hour. Are you reasonable. Monsieur 
 Gironac?" 
 
 "He has rank, wealth, good looks, talent, and polished 
 manners ; and you admit that you do not dislike him ; 
 what would you have more .'' " 
 
 "He is not in love with me, and I am not in love with 
 him." 
 
 " Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf, you are une enfant. 
 I will no longer trouble myself with looking out for a 
 husband for you. You shall die a sour old maid," and 
 Monsieur Gironac left the room, pretending to be in a 
 passion. 
 
 A few days after the meeting with Count de Chavannes, 
 Lionel made his appearance. My heart beat quick as I 
 welcomed him. 
 
Valerie 223 
 
 " He is here," said he, anticipating my question, *' but I 
 called just to know when we should come, and whether I 
 was to say any thing to him before he came." 
 
 "No, no, tell him nothing — bring him here directly — 
 how long will it be before you return ? " 
 
 " Not half an hour ; I am at my old lodgings in Suffolk 
 Street, so good-bye for the present," and Lionel walked 
 away again. 
 
 Monsieur and Madame Gironac were both out, and 
 would not return for an hour or two. I thought the half 
 hour would never pass, but it did at last, and they knocked 
 at the door. Lionel entered, followed by my brother 
 Auguste. I was surprised at his having grown so tall and 
 handsome. 
 
 " Madame Gironac is not at home, mademoiselle," said 
 Lionel. 
 
 " No, Monsieur Lionel." 
 
 " Allow me to present to you Monsieur Auguste de 
 Chatenceuf, a lieutenant in the service of his Majesty the 
 King of the French." 
 
 Auguste bowed, and, as I returned the salute, looked 
 earnestly at me and started. 
 
 " Excuse me, mademoiselle," said he, coming up to me, 
 and speaking in a tremulous voice, *'but — yes, you must 
 be Valerie." 
 
 " Yes, dear Auguste," cried I, opening my arms. 
 
 He rushed to me and covered me with kisses, and then 
 staggering to a chair, sat down and wept. So did I, and 
 so did Lionel, for sympathy and company. 
 
 " Why did you conceal this from me, Lionel .? " said he 
 after a time y "see how you have unmanned me." 
 
 " I only obeyed orders, Auguste," replied Lionel ; " but, 
 now that I have executed my commission, I will leave you 
 together, for you must have much to say to each other. I 
 will join you at dinner-time." 
 
 Lionel went out and left us together ; we renewed our 
 embraces, and after we were more composed, entered into 
 explanations. I told him my history in as few words as 
 
224 Valerie 
 
 possible, promising to enter into details afterwards, and 
 then I inquired about the family. Auguste replied, 
 
 *' I will begin from the time of your disappearance. No 
 one certainly had any suspicion of Madame d'Albret having 
 spirited you away ; indeed, she was, as you know, con- 
 stantly at the barracks till my father left, and expressed 
 her conviction that you had destroyed yourself. The 
 outcry against your mother was universal ; she dared not 
 show herself, and your father was in a state to excite 
 compassion. Four or five times a day did he take his 
 melancholy walk down to the Morgue to ascertain if your 
 body was found. He became so melancholy, morose, and 
 irritable, that people were afraid lest he would destroy 
 himself. He never went home to your mother but there 
 was a scene of reproaches on his part, and defence on 
 hers, that was a scandal to the barracks. All her 
 power over him ceased from that time, and has ceased 
 for ever since, and perhaps you know that he has 
 retired." 
 
 " How should I know, Auguste ? " 
 
 " Yes ; he could not bear to look the other officers in 
 the face ; he told me that he considered himself, from his 
 weakness and folly, to have been the murderer of his 
 child, that he felt himself despicable, and could not longer 
 remain with the regiment. As soon as the regiment 
 arrived at Lyons, he sent in his retirement, and has ever 
 since been living at Pau, in the south of France, upon his 
 half-pay and the other property which he possesses." 
 
 " My poor father ! " exclaimed I, bursting into tears. 
 
 " As for me, you know that I obtained leave to quit 
 the regiment, and have ever since been in the 51st of the 
 line. I have obtained my grade of lieutenant. I have 
 seen my father but once since I parted with him at Paris. 
 He is much altered, and his hair is gray." 
 
 "Is he comfortable where he is, Auguste ? " 
 
 " Yes, Valerie ; I think that he did wisely, for it was 
 ruinous travelling about with so many children. He is 
 comfortable, and, I believe, as happy as he can be. Oh, 
 
Valerie 225 
 
 if he did but know that you were alive, it would add ten 
 years to his life." 
 
 **He shall know it, my dear Auguste," exclaimed I, as 
 the tears coursed down my cheeks. " I feel now that I 
 was very selfish in consenting to Madame d'Albert's 
 proposal, but I was hardly in my senses at the time." 
 
 " I cannot wonder at your taking the step, nor can I 
 blame you. Your life was one of torture, and it was 
 torture to others to see what you underwent." 
 
 " I pity my father, for weak as he was, the punishment 
 has been too severe." 
 
 "But you will make him happy now, and he will rejoice 
 in his old days." 
 
 ** And now, Auguste, tell me about Nicolas — he never 
 liked me, but I forgive him — how is he ? " 
 
 " He is, I believe, well ; but he has left his home." 
 
 " Left home ! " 
 
 " You know how kind your mother was to him — I 
 may say, how she doted upon him. Well, one day he 
 announced his intention of going to Italy, with a friend he 
 had picked up, who belonged to Naples. His mother was 
 frantic at the idea, but he actually laughed at her, and 
 behaved in a very unfeeling manner. Your mother was 
 cut to the heart, and has never got over it ; but, Valerie, 
 the children who are spoiled by indulgence, always turn 
 out the most ungrateful." 
 
 " Have you heard of him since ? " 
 
 " Yes 5 he wrote to me, telling me that he was leading 
 an orchestra in some small town, and advancing rapidly — 
 you know his talent for music — but not one line has he 
 ever written to his mother." 
 
 ** Ah, me ! " sighed I, " and that is all the return she 
 has for her indulgence to him. Now tell me about 
 Clara." 
 
 '* She is well married, and lives at Tours : her husband 
 is an etnploye, but I don't exactly know what." 
 
 " And Sophie and Elisee ? " 
 
 " Are both well, and promise to grow up fine girls, but 
 
2 26 Valerie 
 
 not so handsome as you are, Valerie. It was the wonderful 
 improvement in your person that made me doubt for a 
 moment when I first saw you." 
 
 " And dear little Pierre, that I used to pinch that I 
 might get out of the house, poor fellow ? " 
 
 ** Is a fine boy, and makes his father very melancholy, 
 and his mother very angry, by talking about you." 
 
 *' And now, Auguste, one more question. On what 
 terms are my father and mother, and how does she conduct 
 herself?" 
 
 " My' father treats her with ceremony and politeness, 
 but not with affection. She has tried every means to 
 resume her empire over him, but finds it impossible, and 
 she has now turned devote. They sleep in separate rooms, 
 and he is very harsh and severe to her at times, when the 
 fit comes on him. Indeed, Valerie, if you sought revenge, 
 which I know you do not do, you have had sufficient, for 
 her brow is wrinkled with care and mortification." 
 
 ** But do you think she is sorry for what she has 
 done ? " 
 
 " I regret to say I do not. I think she is sorry for the 
 consequences, but that her animosity against you would be 
 greater than ever if she knew that you were alive, and if 
 you were again in her power she would wreak double 
 vengeance. Many things have occurred to confirm me in 
 this belief. You have overthrown her power, which she 
 never will forgive ; and, as for her religion, I have no 
 faith in that." 
 
 "It is then as I feared, Auguste ; and if I make known 
 my existence to my father, it must be concealed from my 
 mother." 
 
 " I agree with you that it will be best ; for there is no 
 saying to what point the vengeance of an unnatural mother 
 may be carried. But let us quit this subject, for the 
 present at least, and now tell me more about yourself." 
 
 " I will — but there is Lionel's knock : so I must defer 
 it till another opportunity. Dear Auguste, give me one 
 more kiss, while we are alone.' 
 
Valerie 227 
 
 Chapter XII 
 
 In a few minutes after Lionel's return, which he had con- 
 siderably postponed, until Monsieur Gironac's dinner hour 
 had all but arrived, my good host first, and then kind, 
 merry little madame, made their appearance, and a little 
 while was consumed in introductions, exclamations, 
 admirations, and congratulations, all tinctured not a little 
 by that national vivacity, which other folks are in the 
 habit of calling extravagance, and which, as my readers 
 well know already, the good Gironacs had by no means 
 got rid of, even in the course of a long sejour in the 
 matter-of-fact metropolis of England. 
 
 Fortunately, my friends were for the most part, au fait 
 to the leading circumstances of my life, so that little 
 explanation was needed. 
 
 And more fortunately yet, like tide and time, dinner 
 waits for no man , nor have I ever observed, in all my 
 adventurous life, that the sympathy of the most senti- 
 mental, the grief of the most woe-begone, or the joy of 
 the happiest, ever induces them to neglect the summons of 
 the dinner-bell, and the calls of the responsive appetite. 
 
 In the midst of the delight of madame, at having at last 
 to receive the brother of cette chere Valerie, and that brother, 
 too, si hel homme et brave afficier, et (Tune ressemblance si par- 
 faite a la charmante sceur, dinner was luckily announced ; 
 and the torrent-tide of madame's hospitality was cut short, 
 by her husband's declaration that we were all, like himself, 
 dying of hunger; and that not a word more must be 
 spoken, touching sympathies or sentiments, until we had 
 partaken of something nutritious de quoi soutenir Vepuisement 
 des emotions si dechirantes, 
 
 Madame laughed, declared that he was un barbare, un 
 malheureux sans grandeur de Vdme, and taking possession of 
 Auguste, led him awa^into the dining-room : where, though 
 she told me afterwards that she was au comble de desespoir 
 
228 Valerie 
 
 at having to sit us down to so everyday a meal, we found 
 an excellent dinner, and spent a very pleasant hour, until 
 coffee was served ; when, with it, not a little to my 
 surprise, nor very much to my delight. Monsieur de 
 Chavannes made his appearance. 
 
 There was a quizzical look on Monsieur Gironac's face, 
 and a roguish twinkle in his eye, which led me to beHeve 
 that what was really a matter of surprise to me, was none 
 to my worthy host ; for the Count de Chavannes had never 
 visited the house before, in the evening ; nor, from what I 
 had understood, was he on terms of particular intimacy 
 with the Gironacs. 
 
 I was foolish enough to be, at first, a little put out at 
 this ; and, having manifested some slight embarrassment on 
 his first entrance, which I learned afterwards, did not 
 escape his eye, though he was far too well-bred to show 
 it, I made the matter worse by calling my pride to my aid, 
 incited thereto by Madame Gironac's glance and smile at 
 my blushing confusion, and certainly in no respect con- 
 tributed to the gaiety of the evening. Nothing, however, 
 I must admit, could have been more gentlemanly or in 
 better taste, than the whole demeanour of Monsieur de 
 Chavannes, and I could not help feeling this, and com- 
 paring it mentally with the inferior bearing of others I had 
 seen, even in the midst of my fit of hauteur and frigidity. 
 
 He neither immediately withdrew himself on learning 
 that my brother, whom I had not seen for many years, had 
 but just arrived as any half-bred person would have done 
 under the like circumstances, with an awkward apology 
 for his presence, tending only to make every one else more 
 awkward yet ; nor made set speeches, nor foolish compli- 
 ments, on a subject too important for such trifling. 
 
 He did not trouble me with any attentions, which he 
 perceived would be at that moment distasteful, but ex- 
 hibited the most marked desire to cultivate the acquaint- 
 ance of Auguste, to whom he showed a degree of defer- 
 ence, though himself somewhat the senior, as to a military 
 man, that flattered his esprit de corps, mingled with a sort 
 
Valerie 229 
 
 of frank cordiality, which except from countryman to 
 countryman in a foreign land, would perhaps have been a 
 little overdone : but, under the actual circumstances, it 
 could not have been improved. 
 
 For the short time he remained, he conversed well, and 
 wittily ; yet with a strain of fancy and feeling, blended 
 with his wit, which rendered it singularly original 
 and attractive ; and perfectly succeeded, though I know 
 not whether he intended it or not, in directing the atten- 
 tion of the company from my altered and somewhat 
 unamiable mood. 
 
 Among other things I remember, that in the course of 
 conversation, while tendering some civilities to Auguste, 
 the use of his riding horses, his cabriolet, or his services 
 in showing him some of the lions of London, he observed 
 that Monsieur de Chatenoeuf must not consider such an 
 offer impertinent on his part, since he believed, if our 
 genealogy were properly traced, some sort of cousinship 
 could be established ; as more than one of the De 
 Chavannes had intermarried in old times with the 
 Chatenoeufs of Gascony, when both the families, like their 
 native provinces, had been acting in alliance with the 
 English Plantagenets, against the French kings of the 
 house of Valois. 
 
 A few words were said, in connexion with this, 
 touching the singularity of the fact, that it would seem as 
 if England had something to do with the associations of 
 the two families ; but I do not think the remark was 
 made by De Chavannes, and whatever it was, it was 
 not sufficiently pointed to be in any way offensive or 
 annoying. 
 
 On the whole, hurt as I was in some sort by the idea 
 which had taken hold of me, that the Gironacs, through 
 a false and indelicate idea of advancing my welfare, were 
 endeavouring to promote a liking between myself and the 
 Count, I cannot deny, that the evening on the whole, was 
 a pleasant one, and that, if at first it had been my im- 
 pression that De Chavannes was agreeable, entertaining. 
 
230 Valerie 
 
 and well-bred, I was now prepared to admit he 
 had excellent taste, and delicate feelings into the 
 bargain. 
 
 Still I felt that I did not like him, or perhaps I should 
 rather say his attentions — though in fact he had paid me 
 none — and was rather relieved when he made his bow 
 and retired. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, Auguste observed that I seemed 
 dull and tired, and Madame Gironac followed suit by 
 saying that it was no wonder if the excitement and interest 
 created by the unexpected arrival of so dear a brother 
 had proved too much for my nerves. 
 
 Thereupon, after promising to return early in the 
 morning, so that we might have a long talk about the 
 past, and a long consultation about the future, Lionel 
 and Auguste bade us good-night also ; but not before 
 Lionel had said to me as he was taking leave, 
 
 "I think, Mademoiselle, that it will be no more than 
 proper, that I should drive down to Kew, to-morrow 
 morning, and wait upon Judge Selwyn, who has always 
 been so kind to me — have you any message for 
 him?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I beg you will tell him that Auguste has 
 come, and that I request he will let me know when we 
 may wait on him ? — " 
 
 " And the answer will be. Mademoiselle, his waiting 
 upon you. Is that what you desire ? — " 
 
 ** I only desire what I state — to know when and how 
 we may see him, for I know very little of Auguste's 
 heart, if he does not wish to return thanks to one who, 
 except our dear friends here, has been poor Valerie's 
 surest confidant and protector. But you will find the 
 Judge's family increased since you saw him. His son 
 has persuaded my pretty little friend, Caroline Stanhope, 
 to become his wife, and she is living with the Judge's 
 family at present." 
 
 Lionel expressed his surprise and pleasure at the news, 
 but I thought at the moment that the pleasure was not 
 
Valerie 231 
 
 real, though I have since had reason to believe that the 
 gravity which came over his face as he spoke, was the 
 gravity of thought, rather than that, as I fancied at the 
 time, of disappointment. 
 
 Nothing more passed worthy of record, and, after 
 shaking hands with Lionel, and kissing my long-lost 
 brother, I was left alone with the Gironacs, half expectant 
 of a playful scolding. 
 
 " Well, Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf," began 
 Monsieur, as soon as the gentlemen had left us, "is it 
 because you have found out that you have got a handsome 
 brother, that you are determined to drive all other hand- 
 some young men au desespoir ? — or is it that you wish to 
 break the heart especially of this pauvre Monsieur de 
 Chavannes, that you have treated us all with an air si 
 hautainey si haiitaine, that if you had been the Queen of 
 France, it could not have been colder ? " 
 
 " I told you once before. Monsieur Gironac," I replied, 
 " that your Count de Chavannes does not care a straw 
 how I treat him, or with what air. And if he did, I do 
 not. — He is simply a civil, agreeable gentleman, who 
 looks upon me as he would upon any other young lady, 
 whom he is glad to talk to when she is in the humour 
 to talk ; and whom, when she is not, he leaves to her- 
 self, as all well-bred men do. But, I repeat, I do not 
 care enough about him, to think for one moment, whether 
 he is hautaine or not. And he feels just the same about 
 me, I am certain." 
 
 ** What brings him here then, eh ? — where he never 
 
 , came before to-night ? not for the heaux yeux of Madame, I 
 
 believe," with a quizzical bow to his wife, " or for the 
 
 grand esprit of myself. I have an eye, I tell you, as well 
 
 as other people, and I can see one petit pen." 
 
 " I have no doubt you can. Monsieur," I answered, 
 rather pettishly ; " for I suppose you asked him yourself ; 
 and, if you did so on my account, I must beg you will 
 omit that proof of kindness in future, for I do not wish to 
 see him." 
 
232 Valerie 
 
 *' Oh ! Monsieur Gironac, for shame, you have made her 
 very angry with your ridiculous badinage — you have made 
 her angry, really, and I do not wonder. Who ever heard 
 of teasing a young lady about a gentleman she has never 
 seen, only three times, and who has never declared any 
 preference ? '* 
 
 " Madame," replied her husband, in great wrath, either 
 real or simulated, " vous etes une ingrate, — une, — une — 
 words fail me, to express what I think of your enormous 
 and unkind ingratitude. I am homme incompris, and 
 Mademoiselle here — Mademoiselle is either une enfant, or 
 she does not know her own mind. Shall I give the 
 Comte Chavannes his conge, or shall I not ? I shall not, 
 — for if she be une enfant, it is fit her friends look after her ; 
 if she does not know her own mind, it is good she have 
 some one who do ! — voila tout. Here is why I shall not 
 go congedier monsieur le Comte. Why rather I shall request 
 him to dine with me to-morrow, the next day, the day 
 after. If he do not, I swear by my honour, y^z de Gironac, 
 I will dine at home again never more." 
 
 I could not help laughing at this tirade of the kind- 
 hearted little man, on the strength of which he patted me 
 on the head, and said I was bonne enfant, if I were not si 
 diablement entetee, and bade me go to bed, and sleep myself 
 into a better humour ; a piece of advice which appeared to 
 me so judicious, that I proceeded at once to obey it, and 
 bidding them both a kind good-night, betook myself to 
 my own room to ponder rather than to sleep. And, in 
 truth, I felt that I had need of reflection, for with the 
 return of Auguste, a tide of feelings, which had long lain 
 dormant rather than dead within me had almost over- 
 whelmed me ; and the hardness which had its origin in the 
 bitterness of conscious dependence, and which had gained 
 strength from the pride of self-acquired independence, 
 began to thaw in my heart, and to give way to milder and 
 gentler feelings. 
 
 The thoughts of home, the desire for my country, the 
 love for my father who, though weak and almost imbecile. 
 
Valerie 233 
 
 had ever been kind to me in person, the craving affection 
 for my brothers and my sisters, nay ! something approaching 
 to pity or regret for the mother who had proved herself 
 but a step-mother towards me, all revived in increased 
 and re-invigorated force. 
 
 By-and-bye, too, I began to feel that I should be very 
 wretched after the parting with my beloved brother at 
 the end of so brief a renewal of love and intimacy ; to 
 be aware of what I had scarcely felt before in the self- 
 confidence of the position I had won — that it is a sad and 
 lonely thing to be a sojourner in a foreign land, with no 
 natural friends, no kind kindred on whom to rely in case 
 of sickness or misfortune ; — and, to consider, how dark 
 and grave a thing must be solitary old age, and perhaps 
 a solitary death-bed, far from the home of one's youth, 
 the friends of one's childhood. 
 
 Then there arose another thought connected with the 
 preceding, by that extraordinary and inexplicable chain, 
 which seems to run through the whole mind of man, 
 linking together things apparently as far asunder as the 
 poles, which have, however, in reality, a kindred origin. 
 That thought was, wherefore should my life be solitary ? 
 Why should I stand apart and alone from my race, relying 
 on myself only, and depriving myself, for the sake of a 
 perhaps imaginary independence, of all the endearments 
 of social life, all the sweet ties of family ? 
 
 Perhaps, the very presence of my brother had opened 
 my eyes to the truth, that there is no such thing in the 
 world as real independence. To realize that possession, 
 most coveted, and most unattainable, one must be a Robin- 
 son Crusoe, alone on his desert island, — a sort of indepen- 
 dence which no one, I should think, would practically desire 
 to enjoy. 
 
 Before sleep came, I believe that I began to muse about 
 Monsieur de Chavannes ; but it was only to think that I 
 did not care in the least about him, nor he about me ; and 
 that, so far as he was concerned, I had seen no cause to 
 change my decided resolution that I would never marry. 
 
234 Valerie 
 
 All this was, perhaps, in reality, the best of proofs that I 
 did already care something about him, and was very likely 
 before long to care something more ; for some one has said, 
 and he, by the way, no ordinary judge of human nature, 
 that if he desired to win a woman's fancy or affection, his 
 first step would be to make her think about him — even if 
 it, were to hate him ! anything before the absence of all 
 thought, the blank void of real absolute indifference. 
 
 Indeed, I believe it is nearly true, that a woman rarely 
 begins to think often of a man, even if it be as she fancies 
 in dislike, but when, however she may deceive herself, she 
 is on the verge of loving him. 
 
 Was such the case with me ? 
 
 At least, if it were so, I was then so far from knowing 
 it, that I did not even ask myself the question. But I 
 remember that when I fell asleep, I dreamed that I was 
 standing at the altar with the Count de Chavannes, when 
 a band of all those who had ever wronged me, my mother, 
 Madame d'Albret, Madame Bathurst, the Stanhopes, Lady 
 
 M , rushed between us, and tore us forcibly asunder, 
 
 — and I wept so loud that my sorrow awoke me, and it 
 was some time before I was sure it was a dream. 
 
 Early the next morning, Auguste came again to see me j 
 and as Monsieur Gironac was abroad, giving lessons on the 
 flute and guitar, while madame either was, or pretended to 
 be, excessively busy with her wax-flowers, we had the 
 whole day to ourselves until luncheon time, and we profited 
 by it so well, that before we were interrupted, we had 
 little to learn on either side concerning the passages of 
 our lives, and the adventures, which both we and all our 
 families had gone through. And if I had been a little 
 inclined to be proud of myself before, and to give their 
 full value to my energy and decision of character, I certainly 
 now stood in no small danger of being spoiled by Auguste's 
 praises. 
 
 For now half crying at my trials and troubles, — now 
 
 laughing at Lady R 's absurdities, — now bursting into 
 
 vehement invective against my enemies, — he insisted that 
 
Valerie 235 
 
 I was a perfect heroine — the bravest and most accomplished 
 of women, as well as the dearest of sisters. 
 
 But when I had finished my own story, which I did not 
 begin until I had extracted from him every particle of 
 information about my family — 
 
 *' Well, my little Valerie," he said caressingly, as he put 
 his arm about my waist, " you have told me everything — 
 all your little sorrows, and trials, and troubles — all your 
 little pleasures and successes — all your little schemings 
 and manoeuvrings in the love-affairs of other people — and 
 all about the great little fortune which you have accumu- 
 lated — quite a millionaire, upon my word, with your twenty- 
 five hundred livres de rente — but not one word have you 
 told me about your own little affaires de cceiir. I am afraid, 
 little sister mine, you are either a very great hypocrite, or 
 very cold-hearted, which is it, dearest Valerie ? " 
 
 "Very cold-hearted, I believe, brother. At least I 
 certainly have no affaires de coeur to relate. I cannot 
 pretend to say whether it is my fault or that of other 
 people, but certainly no one ever fell in love with me, if it 
 
 were not that odious Monsieur G ; and most certainly 
 
 I have never fallen in love with any one at all." 
 
 Auguste gazed earnestly in my face for a moment, as if 
 he would have read my heart, but I met his eyes with 
 mine quite steadily and calmly, till at length. I burst into 
 a merry laugh, which I could not restrain. 
 
 " Quite true, little sister ? " he said, at last, after my 
 manner had in some sort convinced him. 
 
 " Quite true, Auguste, upon my honour," I replied. 
 
 " Well, Valerie, I suppose I must believe that earnest 
 face, and that honest little laugh of yours." 
 
 " You may just as well do so, indeed," I replied ; 
 "for no one was ever in love with me, I assure you. 
 And I do not think," I added, with a touch of the old 
 pride, " that a de Chatenoeuf is likely to give away a heart 
 that is not desired." 
 
 " It is all very strange," he added. " And this 
 Monsieur Lionel Dempster ? " — 
 
236 Valerie 
 
 " Is a little older than poor Pierre, whom I used to 
 pinch when I wanted to get oijt of my mother's reach, 
 and regards me very much as he would a much elder 
 sister — almost, indeed, as a mother." 
 
 '* A mother, indeed, Valerie ! " 
 
 "He once told me something of the kind! He is a 
 very fine young man, certainly, full of talent and spirit, 
 and will make you a very good and agreeable friend- — but 
 he is no husband for me, I assure you ! He would do 
 much better for Sophie, or Elisee, if he ever should see 
 and like either of them." 
 
 " Always busy for others, Valerie ! And for yourself 
 —when will you think for yourself ? " 
 
 " I think I have thought, and done, too, for myself, 
 pretty well. You forget my twenty-five hundred livres 
 de rented'' 
 
 " But twenty-five hundred livres de rente are not a 
 husband, Valerie." 
 
 " I am not so sure about that. I daresay they would 
 buy one at a pinch," I replied, laughing ; "at least, in our 
 poor country, where everyone you meet in society is not a 
 millionaire, like those cold islanders." 
 
 " I think you have grown almost as cold yourself, little 
 sister, and as calculating." 
 
 " To be sure I have," I made answer ; " and to punish 
 me. Monsieur Gironac swears that I shall die a sour old 
 maid." 
 
 " And what do you say ? " 
 
 ** An old maid very likely ; but not a sour one, at all 
 events. But, hark ! there is a carriage at the door — let 
 me see who it is." 
 
 And I jumped up, and running to the window, saw the 
 Selwyn liveries, and Lionel, en cavalier^ beside the carriage- 
 window. 
 
 In a moment, the steps were let down ; and Caroline 
 speedily made her appearance, commissioned, as she said, 
 by her mother-in-law, to take immediate possession both 
 of myself and Auguste, and to bring us down straightway 
 
Valerie ^'^'j 
 
 to Kew. Her husband, she said, would certainly have 
 called on Monsieur de Chatenoeuf, and the Judge also, 
 but that the courts being all in session, they were both so 
 completely occupied, that, except after dinner, they had 
 not an hour of the twenty-four disengaged. 
 
 She was commanded, moreover, she added, to invite 
 Monsieur and Madame Gironac to dine at Kew on the 
 following day. Me, moreover, and Auguste she was to 
 carry down forthwith in the carriage. 
 
 *' So now," she said, *' get you gone, Valerie, and pack 
 up as quickly as possible all that you require to make 
 yourself beautiful for a week, at least." 
 
 '* And what do you say to all this, messieurs ? " said I, 
 laughingly, to my brother and Lionel ; *' for there is much 
 more necessity to consult you lords of the creation, as you 
 call yourselves, who are in reality vainer by half, and care 
 five times as much about your toilettes as we much calum- 
 niated women — what do you say about this summary 
 packing up and taking flight — can it be accomplished ? " 
 
 " It is accomplished," replied Lionel ; " in so far at 
 least that I have promised on my own part, and for 
 Monsieur Auguste de Chatenoeuf in the bargain, to over- 
 look the preparation of his kit as well as my own, and to 
 bring them down in a cabriolet, while you and your 
 brother are rolling smoothly along in the Judge's venerable 
 coach." 
 
 " All that is arranged, then," said I, " and I will not 
 detain you above ten minutes, during which time, I will 
 send Madame Gironac to amuse you, and you can deliver 
 your own message to her." 
 
 And then, without waiting for any answer, I hurried 
 upstairs to make my travelling toilette, and to put up 
 things for a week's visit to my good friends. 
 
 In the meantime, Madame Gironac, who had always 
 been a great favourite of Caroline's, had taken my place \ 
 and by the merriment which I could hear going on, I could 
 not doubt that, on the whole, the party had been a gainer 
 by the exchange. 
 
238 Valerie 
 
 Before I was quite ready to make my reappearance, there 
 came a smart double knock at the door ; and then, after a 
 minute or two, I could distinguish a gentleman's footstep 
 ascending the staircase to the dining-room. 
 
 My own room looked towards the back of the house, so 
 that I had no means of seeing for myself who the new 
 comer was ; and I did not choose to ask any questions 
 of the servant girl, who was bustling in and out of the 
 door with trunks and travelling-cases innumerable. 
 
 So I finished my toilette with a heart that beat, I must 
 confess, a little faster than usual, though I should cer- 
 tainly have been puzzled to explain why ; put on my hat 
 and shawl, perhaps a little coquettishly, and went down 
 stairs, half impatient, half embarrassed, yet fully persuaded 
 in my own mind that I had not the least expectation of 
 seeing anybody in particular. 
 
 I found all the company assembled round the luncheon- 
 table when I entered, and busily engaged with the cotelettes 
 a la Maintenon and green peas. Among those present was 
 Monsieur le Comte de Chavannes, whom I certainly did 
 not expect to see. 
 
 He rose immediately from the table as I entered, and 
 advanced a step or two to meet me, with a graceful 
 inclination, and a few well-chosen words, to the intent 
 that he had called in order to invite Monsieur de 
 Chatenoeuf to go out and take a promenade a cheval with 
 him, in order to see the parks and the beauty of 
 London. 
 
 All this was said with the utmost frankness, and in 
 the most unaffected manner in the world ; and assuredly 
 there was nothing either in the words, or in the manner 
 in which they were uttered, which should have thrown 
 me into a confusion of blushes, and rendered me for a 
 moment almost incapable of answering him. 
 
 It must be remembered, however, that I had been 
 rallied very much concerning him of late by Monsieur 
 Gironac, and I could scarcely avoid perceiving that this 
 exceeding assiduity in doing the honours to Auguste could 
 
Valerie 239 
 
 not but be attributed to some more potent cause than 
 mere civility to a fellow-countryman. 
 
 My confusion produced, for a second or two, a slight 
 similar embarrassment in the Count, and the blood 
 mounted highly to his forehead. Our eyes met, too, 
 at the same instant ; and though the encounter was but 
 momentary, from that time a sort of secret consciousness 
 was established between us. 
 
 This scene passed in less time than it takes to describe 
 it ; and, becoming aware that every one's eyes were upon 
 us, I rallied instinctively, replied by a few civil words of 
 thanks, and took a place at the table, which had been left 
 vacant for me, between my brother and Lionel Dempster. 
 This little interruption at an end, the conversation returned 
 to the course it had taken before I came in, and there was 
 a good deal of very agreeable talk ; as is sure to be the 
 case whenever four or five pleasant and clever people are 
 thrown together under circumstances which create a sudden 
 and unexpected familiarity, each person desirous of amusing 
 and rendering himself pleasant to his companions of an 
 hour ; but not so anxious to make an impression, as to 
 become stiff, stilted, or affected. 
 
 Lionel, as I have said long ago, was remarkably witty 
 and clever by nature, and had profited greatly by his 
 opportunities in France ; so much so, that I have rarely 
 seen a young man of his age at all comparable to him. 
 The Count was likewise a person of superior abilities and 
 breeding, with a touch of English seriousness and sound- 
 ness engrafted on the stock of French vivacity ; and my 
 brother Auguste was a young, ardent soldier, full of gay 
 youth, high hopes, and brilliant aspirations, all kindled up 
 by the excitement of thus visiting a foreign country, and 
 finding himself in the company of a long-lost and much- 
 beloved sister. 
 
 Caroline Selwyn was quick, bright, and lively ; Madame 
 Gironac was a perfect mine of life and vivacity ; and I, 
 desirous of atoning for my folly of the past evening, did 
 my best to be agreeable. 
 
240 Valerie 
 
 I suppose I was not wholly unsuccessful, and every time 
 I raised my eyes, I was sure to find those of Monsieur de 
 Chavannes riveted on my face with a deep, earnest gaze, 
 which, though it was instantly averted even before our 
 glances met, showed that he was in some sort interested 
 either in myself, or in my words. 
 
 Before luncheon was finished. Monsieur Gironac made 
 his entree, and it was finally arranged that he and Madame 
 should join us at Kew on the following evening ; and, 
 before we set off, Caroline expressed a hope to the Count 
 de Chavannes that he would call upon his friend. Monsieur 
 de Chatenoeuf, while he was staying at the Judge's, 
 explaining that it was impossible for Mr Selwyn or the 
 Judge to wait on him for some days, until the courts had 
 done sitting, when she assured him that they would do so 
 without fail. 
 
 He promised immediately, without a moment's hesitation, 
 that he would do so ; and I believe a riding party was 
 made up on the spot between himself, Lionel, and Auguste, 
 for the second or third day. 
 
 As soon as everything was settled, Caroline hurried us 
 away, saying that her mother-in-law would think she had 
 run off ; and a short, agreeable drive carried us down to 
 the Judge's pleasant villa, where I was received almost as 
 one of the family 5 and Auguste, rather as an old friend, 
 than as a stranger and a foreigner. 
 
 The time passed away pleasantly, for it was the height 
 of the loveHest spring weather ; the situation of the villa 
 on the banks of the Thames was in itself charming ; and 
 for once the English month of May was what its poets 
 have described it — that is to say, what it is once in every 
 hundred years. 
 
 Every one wished to please and to be pleased, and the 
 Selwyns were of that very rare class of people, whom you 
 like the more, the more you see of them — the very reverse 
 of the world, in general — nothing could be more delightful 
 than the week which we passed there. 
 
 From the Judge I had no concealments j and regarding 
 
Valerie 241 
 
 him almost in the light of a second father, while Auguste 
 was prepared to love him for his love to me, we had many- 
 long conversations and consultations concerning my affairs, 
 and the propriety of disclosing my existence to my father. 
 
 This I was resolved upon, and both the Judge and 
 Auguste approving, it was decided that it should be done. 
 
 The only question then, which remained to be disposed 
 of, was how far my disclosures should be carried, and 
 whether it would be practicable, and if practicable, safe, 
 that I should return to France at present, or indeed at 
 all, while in my present condition. 
 
 Auguste gave me his opinion, as he had done repeatedly, 
 that my mother never had laid aside, and never would lay 
 aside, her rancour towards me ; and that she would grasp 
 at the first opportunity of taking any vengeance upon me, 
 which my presence should afford her. 
 
 He did not believe, he said, that my father would be 
 able long to preserve from her the secret of my being 
 alive, and of my having raised myself to a condition of 
 comparative affluence; nor did he feel by any means 
 assured that, while labouring under the revulsion of 
 feelings which the happy tidings would work upon his 
 mind, my mother would not recover her ascendancy over 
 him. 
 
 Beyond this, he could say nothing ; for as a young 
 Frenchman, and more especially a young French soldier, 
 he knew even less about the laws of France, and the 
 rights of parents over children, than did Judge Selwyn ; 
 only, like the Judge, he was inclined to the opinion that 
 I had better not trust myself within the limits of any 
 jurisdiction which might be called upon to hand me over 
 to the parental authority, until such time as I should be 
 completely my own mistress as regarded them, which 
 probably could only be effected by ceasing to be my own 
 mistress as regarded some one else. 
 
 " For be assured, Valerie," he added, " that the posses- 
 sion of your person for the purpose of annoying you, and 
 avenging herself on you for all the sufferings she has under- 
 
 V Q 
 
242 Valerie 
 
 gone in consequence of your supposed suicide, will become 
 the darling object of her life, so sure as she learns that you 
 are in the land of the living ; and the fact of your having 
 secured to yourself a little fortune will not act as a check 
 upon her inclinations." 
 
 I sighed deeply ; for, although I felt and knew the truth 
 of all he said, and expected that he would say it, his words 
 seemed to extinguish the last spark of hope in my heart •, 
 and it is a bitter and painful thing in any case for a daughter 
 to feel that she shall in all probability never again be per- 
 mitted to see the authors of her life, or the companions and 
 scenes of her childhood ; but it is doubly so when she feels 
 it to be the fault of the wickedness or weakness of those 
 whom she would fain love and esteem, but cannot. 
 
 The good Judge marked my emotion, and, laying his 
 hand kindly on my shoulder, said, " You must not give 
 way, my dear girl ; you have done all that is right and true 
 and honest ; and the course which you have taken has been 
 forced upon you. To yield now, and return home to be 
 tortured and despoiled of the little all, which your own 
 good sense and your own good conduct have procured you 
 — for, apart from good sense and good conduct, there is no 
 such thing in the world as good fortune — would not only 
 be positive insanity, but positive ingratitude to the Giver 
 of all good. My advice to you, therefore, is to remain 
 altogether passive, to pursue the career which you have 
 chosen, and, without yourself taking any steps to disclose 
 your present situation, to authorize your brother fully to 
 reveal to your father so much of it, as shall appear neces- 
 sary and desirable to him when on the spot. I should not 
 recommend that your place of residence, or exact circum- 
 stances should be communicated even to him, at least for 
 the present ; and should he desire to write to you, the 
 letters should pass through your brother's hands, and be 
 forwarded under cover to me, which will prevent the gain- 
 ing of intelligence through the post-office. The rest we 
 must leave to the effects of time, and of that Providence, 
 which has been displayed so singularly in your behalf 
 
Valerie 243 
 
 already, and which never deserts those who believe humbly, 
 and endeavour sincerely to deserve Divine favour. So 
 this," he added with a smile, " is the end and sum total 
 of an old lawyer's counsel, and an old man's sermon. And 
 now, think over what I have said between you ; for I be- 
 lieve you will find it the best course, although it may now 
 hardly suit your excited feelings, and, in the meantime, let 
 us go on the lawn and join the ladies, who seem to have 
 got some new metal of attraction." 
 
 *' Indeed, Judge," I replied, "I am quite convinced of 
 the wisdom of what you propose, and I thank you sincerely 
 for your advice as for all your other goodness towards me. 
 No father could be kinder to an only daughter, than you 
 have been to me ; and God will bless you for it ; but, to 
 say the truth, I do feel very sad and downcast just at this 
 moment, and am not equal to the joining that gay party. 
 I will go up to my own room," I added, ''for a little 
 while, and come down again so soon as I can conquer this 
 foolish weakness." 
 
 "Do not call it foolish, Valerie," returned the old man 
 with a benignant smile. " Nothing that is natural can be 
 foolish — least of all, anything of natural and kindly feeling. 
 But do not yield to it — do not yield to it. The feelings 
 are good slaves, but wretchedly poor masters. Do as you 
 will, my dear child, but come to us again as soon as you 
 can. In the meantime, Monsieur de Chatenoeuf, let us go 
 and see who are these new comers." 
 
 And with these words, he turned away, leaning 
 familiarly upon my brother's arm, and left me to collect 
 myself, and recover from the perturbation of my feelings as 
 well and as soon as I could ; which was not perhaps the 
 more quickly that I had easily recognised in the new 
 arrival, the person of the Count de Chavannes. 
 
 I have entered perhaps more fully into the detail of my 
 sentiments at this period of my life, for two reasons — one, 
 because of an eventful life, this was upon the whole the 
 most eventful moment — the other, that having hitherto re- 
 corded facts and actions rather than feelings or principles, 
 
244 Valerie 
 
 I am conscious that I have represented myself as a some- 
 what harder and more worldly person, than I feel myself 
 in truth to be. 
 
 But the hardness and the worldliness were produced, if 
 they existed at all, by the hardness of the circumstances 
 into which I was thrown, and the worldliness of the persons 
 with whom I was brought into contact. 
 
 Adversity had hardened my character, and perhaps in 
 some sort my heart also. At least, it had aroused my 
 pride to the utmost, had set me as it were upon the 
 defensive, and led me to regard every stranger with 
 suspicion, and to look in him for a future enemy. 
 
 Good fortune had, however, altered all this. All who 
 had been my enemies, who had injured, or misrepresented 
 me, were disarmed, or subdued, or repentant ; I had for- 
 given all the world — was at peace with all the world. I 
 had achieved what to me was a little competence ; I was 
 loved and esteemed by those whom I could in return love 
 and esteem, and of whose regard I could be honestly 
 proud. I had recovered my brother — I still hoped to be 
 reconciled to my parents — and — and — why should I con- 
 ceal it — I was beginning to think it by far less improbable 
 that I should one day marry — in a word, I was beginning 
 to like, if not yet to love. 
 
 All these things had been by degrees effecting a change 
 in my thoughts and feelings. I had been gradually thawing, 
 and was now completely melted, so that I felt the necessity 
 of being alone — of giving way — of weeping. 
 
 I went to my own chamber, threw myself on my bed, 
 and wept long, and freely. 
 
 But these were not tears of agony such as I shed when 
 I first learned Madame d'Albret's cruel conduct towards 
 me — nor tears of injured pride such as Madame Bathurst 
 had forced from me, by her effort to humiliate me in my 
 own eyes — nor yet tears of wrathful indignation, such as 
 
 burst from me when I detected Lady M , in her base 
 
 endeavour to destroy my character. 
 
 These were tears of affection, of softness, almost of joy. 
 
Valerie 245 
 
 They flowed noiselessly and gently, and they relieved me, 
 for my heart was very full ; and, when I was relieved, I 
 bathed my face, and arranged my hair, and descended the 
 staircase almost merrily to join the merry company in the 
 garden. 
 
 I found on my joining them, that the Count de 
 Chavannes had already completely gained the good graces, 
 not only of Caroline and her young sisters-in-law, but of 
 Mr Selwyn and the Judge also. 
 
 He had come down to Kew with the particular purpose 
 of engaging my brother and Lionel to accompany him, on 
 the next day but one, to Wormwood Scrubs, where there 
 was to be a grand review, in honour of some foreign 
 prince or other, of two or three regiments of light 
 cavalry, with horse-artillery and rockets. It was to 
 conclude with a sham fight, and which he thought would 
 interest Auguste as a military man, and especially one who 
 had commenced his service in the hussars, though he had 
 been subsequently transferred into the line. 
 
 This plan had been discussed and talked over, until 
 the ladies, having expressed a laughing desire to see the 
 spectacle, it was decided that Caroline, the two Miss 
 Selwyns and myself, escorted by Lionel, in the rumble, 
 should go down to the review in the Judge's carriage, 
 Auguste and the Count accompanying ^x^ en cavalier, and 
 that after the order of the day should be concluded, the 
 whole party, including the Count, should return to dinner 
 at Kew. 
 
 On the day following, as I did not think it either wise 
 or correct to neglect my pupils, my chapel, or Mrs 
 Bradshaw's school, although I had sent satisfactory reasons 
 for taking one week's leave of absence, we were all to 
 return to town ; I to good Mons. Gironac's, Auguste and 
 Lionel to the lodgings of the latter in Suffolk Street. 
 
 Monsieur de Chavannes did not stay long after I made 
 my appearance, not wishing either to be, or to appear, 
 de trop on a first visit; nor had he any opportunity of 
 addressing more than a few common-place observations 
 
246 Valerie 
 
 to me, had he desired to do so. Still I observed the 
 same peculiarity in his manner towards me, as distinct as 
 possible from the sort of proud humility, half badinage, 
 half earnest, which he put on in talking with other 
 ladies. 
 
 To me he observed a tone of serious softness, with 
 something of earnest deference to everything that fell 
 from my lips, however light or casual, for which he 
 seemed to watch with the utmost eagerness. 
 
 He never joked with mey though he was doing so 
 continually with the others ; not that he was in the least 
 degree grave or formal, much less stifF or affected , but 
 rather that he seemed desirous of proving to me that he 
 was not a mere butterfly of society, but had deeper ideas, 
 and higher aspirations, than the every day world around us. 
 
 When he was going away, he for the first time put out 
 his hand to me a Vanglaise, and as I shook hands with him, 
 our eyes met once more, and I believe I again blushed a 
 little ; for though he dropped his gaze instantly, and 
 bowed low, taking off his hat, he pressed my fingers very 
 gently, ere he let them fall, and then turning to take his 
 leave of the Judge and Mr Selwyn, who had just joined 
 us, mounted his horse — a very .fine hunter, by the way, 
 which he sat admirably — again bowed low, and cantered 
 off, followed by his groom, as well mounted as himself. 
 
 He was not well out of sight, before, as usual, he 
 became the topic of general discussion. 
 
 **What a charming person," said Caroline. *'So full 
 of spirit and vivacity, and yet so evidently a man of mind 
 and good feeling. Where did you pick him up, Valerie ? " 
 
 *' He is an old friend, I told you, of Monsieur Gironac's, 
 and was calHng there by accident when he met Auguste, 
 and since that he has been exceedingly kind and civil to 
 him. That is the whole I know about him." 
 
 "Well, he is very handsome," said Caroline; "don't 
 you think so, Valerie ? " 
 
 " Yes," I answered, quite composedly, " very handsome, 
 a little effeminate-looking, perhaps." 
 
Valerie 247 
 
 " Oh ! no, not in the least," said CaroHne ; " or if he is, 
 so quick and clever and spirited-looking that it quite takes 
 all that away." 
 
 " Caroline," said Selwyn, laughing, " you have no right 
 to have eyes to see, or ears to hear, or mind to comprehend 
 beauty, or wit, or any other good quality, in any one save 
 me, your lord and master." 
 
 " You, you monster ! " she replied, laughing gaily, " I 
 never thought you one bit handsome, or witty, or dreamed 
 that you had one good quality. I only married you, you 
 know as well as I do, to get away from school, and from 
 the atrocious tyranny of my music mistress there. You 
 need not look fie ! at me, Valerie, for I'm too big to be 
 put in the corner, now, and he won't let you whip me." 
 
 **I think he ought to whip you, himself, baby," replied 
 the Judge, who had grown very fond of her ; and, in 
 truth, she was a very loveable little person in her way, 
 and made her husband a very happy man. 
 
 " Now, Judge Selwyn," interposed I, "do you remem- 
 ber a conversation we once had together, in which you 
 endeavoured to force me to believe that men in general, 
 and you in particular, were not tyrants to your wives and 
 families, and now do I hear you giving your son such 
 advice as that ? Alas ! what can make women so 
 insane ? " 
 
 ** Don't you know? Can't you guess? Mademoiselle 
 Valerie ? " asked the old Judge, smiling slily, and with 
 the least possible wink of his eye, when some of the 
 others were looking at us, and then he added in a lower 
 voice, *' perhaps it will be your turn soon. I think you 
 will soon be. able to go to France without much fear of 
 your mother's persecution. Come," he continued, offering 
 me his arm, as the others had now moved a little way 
 apart, ** come and take a turn with me in the cedar- walk 
 till dinner's ready ; I want to talk to you, for who knows 
 when one will get another opportunity." 
 
 I took his arm without reply, though my heart beat 
 very fast, and I felt uncomfortable, knowing as I did 
 
248 Valerie 
 
 perfectly well beforehand what he was going to say to 
 me. 
 
 We turned into the cedar-walk, which was a long 
 shadowy aisle, or bower, overhung with magnificent 
 cedars of Lebanon, running parallel with the banks of 
 the noble river, and so still and secluded that no more 
 proper place could be found for a private consultation. 
 
 " Well," said the old man, speaking gently, but not 
 looking at me, perhaps for fear of embarrassing me by his 
 eye, " you know I am in some sort, not only your legal 
 adviser, but your self-constituted guardian, and father 
 confessor — so now, without farther preamble, who is he, 
 Valerie ? " 
 
 *'I will not affect to misunderstand you. Judge, though, 
 upon my word, you are entirely mistaken in your con- 
 jecture." 
 
 " Upon your word ! entirely mistaken ! I think, not— 
 I am sure, not." 
 
 ** You are, indeed. I have not seen him above four 
 times, nor spoken fifty words to him." 
 
 '* Never mind, never mind — who is he ? " 
 
 *' An acquaintance of Monsieur Gironac's, Monsieur le 
 Comte de Chavannes. His father emigrated hither during 
 the revolution, engaged in commerce, and made a fortune of 
 some ^^40,000. At the restoration, the old Count returned 
 to France, and was made by Louis XVIIL a Colonel of the 
 Legion of Honour, and died shortly afterwards. There is 
 an estate, I believe, in Brittany, but Monsieur de Chavannes, 
 who was at school here, and has passed all his younger 
 days in this country, is more an Englishman than a French- 
 man, and only visits France at rare intervals. That is all 
 I know about him, and that only by accident, Monsieur 
 Gironac having told me, in his lively way, what I should 
 not have dreamed of inquiring." 
 
 " Very proper, indeed— and very good so far, but one 
 would like to know something definite about a man before 
 taking him for one's husband." 
 
 " I should think so, indeed. Judge ; but as I am not 
 
Valerie 249 
 
 going to take him for my husband, I am quite contented 
 with knowing what I do know of him." 
 
 " And what do you know ? — of yourself, — I speak of 
 your own knowledge ? No hearsay evidence in the 
 case." 
 
 "Nothing more than that he is lively and agreeable, 
 that he has very good manners, and seems very good- 
 natured — I might say, he has been very good-natured to 
 Auguste, poor fellow." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! Yes," answered the Judge. ** But 
 men are very apt to be good-natured to poor fellows, who 
 have got nice sisters, with whom they are in love." 
 
 " I dare say. Judge. But to reply in your own phrase- 
 ology — that is no case in point ; for granting that Auguste's 
 sister is nice, which I will not be so modest as to gainsay, 
 Monsieur de Chavannes is not the least in love with 
 her." 
 
 " Perhaps, not." 
 
 " Certainly, not." 
 
 " Well, be it so ? What else do you know about him ?" 
 
 "Nothing, Judge Selwyn." 
 
 "Nothing of his character, his principles, his morals, or 
 his habits ? " 
 
 " Really, Judge, one would think, to hear you, that I 
 was going to hire a footman — which I am much too poor 
 to do — and that Monsieur de Chavannes had applied for 
 the place. What on earth have I to do with the young 
 gentleman's character or principles ? I know that he is 
 very gentlemanlike, and is neither a coxcomb nor a pedant, 
 which is refreshing in these days." 
 
 " And, as Caroline says, very handsome, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think he is handsome," I replied. "But that 
 has nothing to do with it." 
 
 " Not much, truly," said the Judge drily. " And this 
 is all you know ? " 
 
 " Or desire to know. It seems to me quite enough to 
 know of an acquaintance of a few days' standing." 
 
 " Well — well," he answered, shaking his head a little. 
 
250 Valerie 
 
 *• Well. He is all that you say. A very fine young man, 
 he seems. I like him. Well, I will make inquiries." 
 
 " Not on my account, I intreat, Judge Selwyn " — said I, 
 interrupting him eagerly. 
 
 "Mademoiselle Valerie de Chatenoeuf," he said drily, 
 though half in jest, " my head is an old one, yours a very 
 young one. I know young folks are apt to think old heads 
 good for nothing." 
 
 " I do not, I am sure," interrupted I, again. " I do not, 
 indeed." 
 
 " Nor I, Valerie," — he answered, interrupting me in his 
 turn, with a good-natured smile. " So you shall let me 
 have my way in this matter. But, to relieve you, my 
 dear, permit me to observe that I have two daughters of 
 my own, and one young son, besides Charles, who is old 
 enough to take care of himself; and, though I am very 
 glad to ask a young man to dine in my house who has, as 
 you observe, very good manners, and is neither a fool nor 
 a coxcomb, I am not at all willing that he should become 
 what you call an habitue^ until I know something of his 
 character and principles. And now, as the dressing-bell 
 has rung these ten minutes, and it will take you at least 
 half-an-hour to beautify your little person, I advise you to 
 make the most of your time. And by all means, Valerie, 
 stick to your resolution — never marry, my dear, never 
 marry ; for all men are tyrants." 
 
 One might be very sure that I profited by this dismissal, 
 and ran across the lawn as fast as I could, glad to escape 
 the far-sighted experience of the shrewd old lawyer. 
 
 " He has seen it, then," I thought to myself. " He has 
 observed it even in this little space ; even in this one 
 interview, and he has read it, even as I read it. I wonder 
 if he has read my heart, too. No, no," I continued, 
 communing with myself, " that he cannot have done, for I 
 know not yet myself how to interpret it." 
 
 Little thought I then, that whenever our feelings are 
 deeply interested, or when strong passions are at work, 
 even in embryo, we are for the most part the last persons 
 
Valerie 251 
 
 who discover the secrets which are transparent enough. 
 Heaven knows, to all persons but ourselves. 
 
 I do not know, nor did I inquire whether the Judge 
 pursued his inquiries concerning the Count as he had 
 promised to do ; much less did I learn what was their 
 result. But I do know that the following morning the 
 young gentleman called again at the gate with a led horse 
 for my brother ; but did not ask if we were at home, 
 merely sending his compliments to the ladies, and re- 
 questing Monsieur de Chatenoeuf to accompany him for a 
 ride. 
 
 Lionel was absent in the city on business ; so that 
 Auguste and the Count rode out alone, and did not return 
 until it was growing dark, when there was scarcely time 
 to dress for dinner, the latter again sending in an apology 
 for detaining my brother so long, and retiring without 
 getting off his horse. 
 
 This gave me, I confess, more pleasure than it would 
 have done to see him, though that would have given me 
 pleasure, too ; for I saw in it a proof of something more 
 than mere tact, of mental delicacy, I mean ; and an anxiety 
 not to obtrude either upon the hospitality of the Selwyns, 
 or upon my feelings. 
 
 Auguste, on his return, was in amazing spirits, and did 
 nothing all dinner-time, but expatiate upon the companion- 
 able and amiable qualities of de Chavannes, whom he 
 already liked, he said, more than any person he had ever 
 seen for so short a time — so clever, so high-spirited, so 
 gallant. Everything, in a word, that a man could desire 
 for a friend, or a lady for a lover. 
 
 " Heyday i " said the Judge, laughing at this tirade. 
 " This fine Count with his black moustaches seems to 
 have made one conquest mighty quickly. I hope it will 
 not run in the company, or we shall have more elopements " 
 — with a sly glance at Caroline. ** Mademoiselle Valerie 
 here," he continued, " is a terrible person for promoting 
 elopements, too. But we must have none from my 
 house." 
 
252 Valerie 
 
 We continued to be very gay all dinner-time. After 
 dinner we had some music, and the Judge was just 
 pressing me to sing, when Lionel's servant came into the 
 room, having hurried down from London, in pursuit of 
 his master, in consequence of the sudden arrival of a large 
 package of letters from Paris, endorsed " immediate, and 
 to be delivered with all speed." 
 
 This incident broke up the party for the moment ; and 
 indeed threw a chill over us all for the whole evening, 
 when it appeared that the principal letter was one to my 
 brother from the Commandant of Paris, of which city his 
 regiment formed a part of the garrison, reluctantly revok- 
 ing his leave of absence, in consequence of some expected 
 emeute, and intimating that his presence would be expected 
 at head-quarters on or before the third day of June ; an 
 order which it was, of course, impossible to think of 
 neglecting or disobeying, while it would leave him at 
 the furthest but a single week to give to us in London. 
 
 It was a bitter disappointment to be separated after so 
 brief a communion, but we consoled ourselves by the 
 recollection that the Straits of Dover are not the Pacific 
 Ocean, and that Paris and London are not a thousand 
 leagues asunder. 
 
 Chapter XIII 
 
 There never was a finer morning in the world than that 
 appointed for the review. It was just the end of May, 
 and all the scenery, even in the very suburbs of the great 
 city, was brilliant with all the characteristic beauty of an 
 English landscape. 
 
 The fine horse-chestnut trees and the thick hawthorn 
 hedges were all in full bloom, and the air was perfectly 
 scented with perfumes from the innumerable nursery 
 grounds which hedge in that side of London with a belt of 
 flowers. 
 
Valerie 253 
 
 The parks, and the suburban roads were crowded with 
 neatly-dressed, modest-looking nurses and nursery-maids, 
 leading whole troops of rosy-cheeked, brown-curled, 
 merry boys and girls to enjoy the fresh morning air ; and 
 Auguste was never tired, as we drove along, of admiring 
 everything that met his eyes in quick succession. 
 
 The trees, the flowery hedges, the gay parterres, the 
 glimpses of the noble Thames white with the sails of 
 innumerable craft, the beautiful villas with their small 
 highly cultivated pleasure-grounds, the pretty nursery- 
 maids, and happy English children, all came in for a share 
 of his rapturous admiration ; and so vivacious and original 
 were his comments on all that he saw, that he in some sort 
 communicated the infection of his merry humour to us 
 also, and we were all as gay and joyous as the season and 
 the scene. 
 
 When we came to the ground destined for the review, 
 my brother was silent, and I saw his cheek turn pale for a 
 moment ; but his eye brightened and flashed as it ran over 
 the splendid lines of the cavalry, which, at the moment we 
 came upon the ground, were parading past the royal per- 
 sonage in honour of whom the review was given, and who 
 was on horseback, by the side of a somewhat slender elderly 
 gentleman, dressed in the uniform of 2i field-marshal^ whose 
 eagle eye and aquiline nose announced him, at a glance, the 
 vainqiieiir du vainqueur de la terre, 
 
 ** Magmfique, mats c'est vraiment magmfique,^^ muttered my 
 brother to himself, as the superb life-guards swept along 
 with their polished steel helmets and breast-plates glittering 
 like silver in the sunshine, and their plumes and guidons 
 flashing and twinkling in the breeze. " Dieu de dieu I 
 qiiils sont geants les cavaliers, quils sont colossaux les chevaux, 
 Et les allures si lestes, si gracieuses, comme s'ils n^etaient que 
 des juments. Mais c'est un spectacle magnifique I " 
 
 A moment afterwards, a regiment of lancers passed at a 
 trot, with their pennons fluttering in the breeze, and their 
 lance-heads glimmering like stars above the clouds of dust 
 which rose from under their horses' hoofs ; and these were 
 
254 Valerie 
 
 followed by several squadrons of hussars, with their crim- 
 son trousers and their gaily furred pelisses, and then troop 
 after troop of horse-artillery clattering along, the high-bred 
 horses whirling the heavy guns and caissons behind them 
 as if they had been mere playthings. 
 
 It certainly was a beautiful and brilliant pageant, and 
 the splendid military music of the cavalry-bands, the clash 
 and clang of the silver cymbals, the ringing roll of the 
 kettle-drums, and the symphonious cadences of the cornets, 
 horns, and trumpets at the same time, delighted and excited 
 me to the utmost. 
 
 But, I confess, that to me the calm old veteran, sitting 
 unmoved amidst all that pomp and clangour, and evidently 
 marking only every smallest minutise of the men, the 
 accoutrements, the movements, was a more interesting, a 
 more moving sight, than all the pageantry of uniform, than 
 all the thrill of music. 
 
 I thought how he had sat as cool and impassive under 
 the iron hail of battle, with thousands and thousands of the 
 best and bravest falling around him, the fate of nations 
 hanging on a balanced scale in those fights of giants— I 
 thought how he, alone of men, had faced undaunted and 
 self-confident, that greater than Hannibal, or Alexander, 
 that world-conqueror Napoleon — I thought how he had 
 quelled the might of my own gallant land, and my blood 
 seemed to thrill coldly in my veins, as it will at the recital 
 of great deeds and noble daring — and I knew not altogether 
 whether it was the shudder of dislike, or the thrill of 
 admiration that so shook me. 
 
 Had he looked proud, or self-elate, or triumphant, I felt 
 that I could have hated him ; but so impassive, and withal 
 now so frail and feeble, yet with an eye so calmly firm, an 
 expression of rectitude so conscious, I could not but per- 
 ceive that if an enemy of my belle France was before me, it 
 was an enemy who had been made such by duty, not by 
 choice — an enemy who had done nought in hatred, all in 
 honour. 
 
 I acknowledged to myself that I was in the presence of 
 
Valerie 255 
 
 the greatest living man -, and though I could neither love 
 nor worship, I felt subdued and awed into a sort of breath- 
 less horror, as one might fancy humanity to be in the 
 presence of some superior intelligence, some being of 
 another world. 
 
 The girls observed my riveted and almost fascinated 
 eye, as it dwelt on that mighty soldier, and began to 
 whisper to one another with a sort of very natural pride 
 at the evident interest which we took in their favourite 
 hero. 
 
 Their tittering attracted my brother's attention, and 
 following their eyes he was not long in discovering what 
 it was that had excited their mirth, and he looked at me 
 for a moment with something like a frown on his forehead. 
 But it cleared away in a moment, and he smiled at his own 
 vehemence, perhaps injustice. 
 
 At that moment, the different regiments began wheeling 
 to and fro in long lines, and open columns of troops, and 
 performing an infinity of manoeuvres, which, though I of 
 course did not in the least degree comprehend them, were 
 very fine and beautiful to look at, from the rapidity of the 
 movements, the high spirit of the horses, and the gleam 
 and glitter of the arms, half seen among the dust-clouds. 
 My brother, however, began, as I could see, to be vehe- 
 mently excited, and his constant comments and exclamations 
 of surprise and admiration, bore testimony to the correct- 
 ness with which every movement was executed. 
 
 Then came the roar of the artillery, as the guns retreated 
 before the charging horse, and even I could comprehend 
 and appreciate the marvellous celerity with which flash 
 followed flash, and roar echoed roar, from the same piece, 
 so speedily that it was scarcely possible to comprehend 
 how the gun should have been loaded and re-loaded while 
 the horses were at full gallop. 
 
 By this time all the gentlemen had become so much 
 interested and excited by the scene, that, Lionel having 
 got upon his horse which had been led down to the ground 
 by his servant, they asked our permission to leave us for a 
 
256 Valerie 
 
 short time, and ride nearer to the spot where the artillery 
 were manoeuvring. 
 
 As we had several servants about us in the first place, 
 and as in the second there is not the slightest danger of 
 ladies being treated with incivility by an English crowd, 
 unless through their own fault or indiscretion, of course no 
 objection was made, and our cavaliers galloped away, 
 promising to return w^ithin a quarter of an hour. 
 
 Scarcely were they out of sight, before I observed a 
 tall, handsome, soldierly man, though in plain clothes, ride 
 past the carriage on a very fine horse, followed by a groom 
 in a plain dark frock, with a cockade in his hat. 
 
 It seemed to me on the instant that I had seen his face 
 somewhere before, and that I ought to know him ; for the 
 features all seemed familiar, although had it been to save 
 my life, I could not have said where I had met him. 
 
 I was torturing my memory on this head in vain — for he 
 was evidently an Englishman, and I had no acquaintance 
 with any English officer — when he rode past a second time, 
 and seemed to be engaged in endeavouring to decipher the 
 arms on our carriage, and his object appeared to be the 
 discovery of who / was ; at least, I could not but observe 
 that he looked at me from time to time with a furtive 
 glance from under the brim of his hat, as if he, too, 
 fancied that he knew or remembered me. The same thing 
 happened yet a third time ; and then he called his servant 
 to his side, and I saw the man ride up a second afterwards 
 to Judge Selwyn's footman, who was standing at a few 
 yards' distance from the carriage, and ask him some 
 question, which he answered by a word or two, when the 
 groom rode away. 
 
 The gentleman, on receiving the reply, nodded his head 
 quietly, as if he would have said, "I thought so," and 
 then he looked at me steadily till he caught my eye, when 
 he raised his hat, made a half military bow, and trotted 
 slowly away. 
 
 Caroline's quick eye caught this action in an instant, 
 and, turning to me suddenly, she cried quickly — 
 
Valerie 257 
 
 " Ah ! Valerie, who is that ? that handsome man who 
 bowed to you ? — Where have I seen him before ? " 
 
 " The very question which I was asking myself, 
 Caroline. I am quite sure that I have seen his face, and 
 yet I cannot remember where. It is very strange." 
 
 " Very ! " replied a strange, sneering voice, close to my 
 ear, with a slightly foreign accent. " Can you say where 
 you have seen mine, Ingrate V 
 
 I turned my head as quick as lightning ; for in answer- 
 ing Caroline, who sat on the side of the carriage next to 
 the military spectacle, I had leaned a little inward ; and 
 there, with his effeminate features actually livid with rage, 
 and writhing with impotent malignity, stood Monsieur 
 
 G , the infamous divorced husband of Madame 
 
 d'Albret, and the first cause of almost all my mis- 
 fortunes. 
 
 I looked at him steadily, and replied with bitter but 
 calm contempt — 
 
 "Perfectly well. Monsieur G . And very little 
 
 did I suppose that I should ever see it again. I imagined, 
 sir, that you were in your proper place, — the galleys ! " 
 
 It was wrong, doubtless, in me so to answer him — 
 unfeminine, perhaps, and too provocative of insult ; but the 
 blood of my race is hot, and vehement to repel insult ; 
 and when I thought of the sufferings I had endured, the 
 trials I had encountered, and the contumely which I had 
 borne on account of that man, my every vein seemed to 
 overflow with passion. 
 
 ** Ha ! " he replied, grinding his teeth with rage, and 
 becoming crimson from the rush of blood to his head, 
 while he grasped my wrist hard with his hand, and shook 
 it furiously. "Ha! to the galleys yourself — Chiennel 
 Ingrate I Perfide ! Traitresse I c'est aux gateres que fat 
 cru te rencontrer — ou plutot a la " 
 
 What further atrocity the ruffian was about to utter, 
 I know not, for while his odious voice was yet hissing in 
 my ear these atrocious epithets, before the footman who 
 was standing, as I have said, a few yards off at the other 
 
 V R 
 
258 Valerie 
 
 side of the carriage, had time to interfere, I heard the 
 sound of a horse at full gallop, and, the next instant, he 
 v/as dragged forcibly away, and I saw him quivering in 
 the furious grasp of the Count de Chavannes, who had, 
 it seems, been returning to join us, when the assault was 
 committed. 
 
 To gallop to my side, to spring to the ground, to collar 
 the ruffian, drag him from the carriage, and lash him with 
 his whole strength with a rough jockey whip till he fairly 
 screamed for mercy, were but the work of a moment. 
 
 And I could not but marvel afterwards to think how 
 much power and nervous energy his indignant spirit had 
 lent to his slight frame and slender limbs ; for in size, he 
 was by no means superior to G , whom he neverthe- 
 less handled almost as if he had been a child of five years 
 old. 
 
 Want of breath at last, rather than want of will, com- 
 pelled him to pause in his exercise; and then turning 
 towards us with an air as composed and smiling as if he 
 had been merely dancing a quadrille, he took off his 
 hat, saying : — 
 
 " I must implore your pardon, ladies, yours more 
 especially. Mademoiselle Valerie, for enacting such a scene 
 in your presence. Mais c^etait plus fort que moi I " he 
 added, laughing. " I could not contain myself at seeing 
 a lady so infamously insulted." 
 
 Caroline and the Misses SeJwyn were so much frightened 
 by the whole fracas, that they were really unable to 
 answer, and I was for the moment so much taken by 
 surprise, that I could not find words to reply. At this 
 moment, covered with dust and blood, for the whip had 
 cut his face in several places, without his hat, and with 
 
 all his gay attire besmeared and rent, G again came 
 
 up towards the carriage. 
 
 He was very pale, nay white, even to the lips — but it 
 was evidently not with terror but with rage, as his first 
 words testified — 
 
 *' Monsieur le Comte de Chavannes, ^^ he said, slowly, " car 
 
Valerie 259 
 
 je vous connais, et vous me cormahrez aussi^je vous le jure ; 
 vous niavez frappe, vous me rendrez satisfaction, tiest-ce 
 pasV 
 
 '' Oh ! no, no," I exclaimed, before he could answer, 
 clasping my hands eagerly together ; " oh, no, no ! not 
 on my account, I implore you. Monsieur le Comte — no 
 life on my account — above all, not yours ! " 
 
 He thanked me by one expressive glance, which spoke 
 volumes to my heart, and perhaps read volumes in return, 
 in my pale face and trembling lips, then turned with a 
 calm smile to his late antagonist, and answered him in 
 English. " I do not know in the least, sir, who you are, 
 and I do not suppose that I ever shall know. I chastised 
 you, five minutes since, for insulting this lady most 
 grossly " — 
 
 " Lady ! " interrupted the ruffian, with a sneer. ** Lady. 
 Lady of plea — " 
 
 But the Count went on without pausing or seeming to 
 hear him — " which I should have done at all events, 
 whether I had known you or not, and which I shall most 
 assuredly do again, should you think fit to proceed further 
 with your infamies. As for satisfaction, if I should be 
 called upon in a proper way, I shall not refuse it to any 
 person worthy to meet me." 
 
 " Which this person is not, sir," interposed yet a 
 third voice ; and, looking up, I recognised the officer who 
 had bowed to me : " which this person is not, I assure 
 you, and my word is wont to be sufficient in such cases — 
 Lieutenant-Colonel Jervis," — he added, with a half bow 
 
 to me, — " late of His Majesty's Light Dragoons. This 
 
 person is the notorious Monsieur G , who was detected 
 
 cheating at ecarte at the * Travellers,' was a defaulter on 
 the St Leger in the St Patrick's year, has been warned off 
 every race-course in England, by the Jockey Club, besides 
 being horsewhipped by half the Legs in England. He can 
 get no gentleman to bring you a message, sir ; and if he 
 could, you must not meet him." 
 
 Gnashing his teeth with impotent rage, the detected 
 
26o Valerie 
 
 impostor slunk away, while the Count, bowing to Colonel 
 Jervis, replied quietly — 
 
 " I thank you very much. Colonel. I am Monsieur de 
 Chavannes ; and I have no doubt what you say is perfectly 
 correct. No one but a low ruffian could have behaved as 
 this fellow did. It was, I assure you, no small offence 
 which caused me to strike a blow in the presence of 
 ladies." 
 
 " I saw it, Monsieur le Comte," answered Jervis, " I 
 saw it from a distance, and was coming up as fast as I could 
 make my horse gallop, when you anticipated me. Then, 
 seeing that I was not wanted, I stood looking on with 
 intense satisfaction ; for, upon my word ! I never saw a 
 thing better done in my life. No offence. Count, but by 
 the way you use your hands, I think you ought to have 
 been an Englishman rather than a Frenchman, which I 
 suppose from your name- — for you have no French accent 
 — you are." 
 
 "I was at school in England, Colonel," answered the 
 Count, laughing, ** and so learned the use of my hands." 
 
 " That accounts for it — that accounts for it — for on my 
 life, I never saw a fellow more handsomely horsewhipped — 
 and I have seen a good many, too. Did you. Mademoiselle 
 Valerie de Chatenoeuf ; for I believe it is you whom I have 
 the honour of addressing ? " 
 
 " I have been less fortunate than you. Colonel Jervis, 
 for I never saw any one horsewhipped before, and sincerely 
 hope I shall never see another." 
 
 " Don't say that, my dear lady, don't say that. I am 
 sure it is a very pretty sight, when it is well and soundly 
 done. Besides it seems ungrateful to the Count." 
 
 " I would not be ungrateful for the world," I replied ; 
 *' and I am sure the Count needs no assurance of that fact. 
 I am for ever obliged by his prompt defence of me — but 
 it is nothing more than I should have expected from 
 him." 
 
 *'What, that he would fight for you, Valerie?" 
 whispered Caroline, maliciously, in a tone which, perhaps^ 
 
Valerie 261 
 
 she did not intend to be overheard ; but, if such was her 
 meaning, she missed it, for all present heard her distinctly. 
 
 I replied, however, very coolly — 
 
 " Yes, Caroline, that he would fight for me, or you, or 
 any lady who was aggrieved or insulted in his presence." 
 
 '* Milk graces for your good opinions ! " said de Chav- 
 annes, with a bow, and a glance that was far more eloquent 
 than words. 
 
 '* A truce to compliments, if you will not think me 
 impertinent. Count," said the Colonel ; *' but I wish to ask 
 this fair lady, if she will pardon me one question ; had you 
 ever a friend called — " 
 
 " Adele Chabot ! " I interrupted him ; '* and I shall be 
 most enchanted to hear of her, or better still to see her, as 
 Mrs Jervis." 
 
 " You have anticipated me 5 that is what I was about 
 to say. We arrived in town last night ; and she com- 
 missioned me at once to make out your whereabouts for 
 her. The Gironacs told me that you were staying at 
 Kew— " 
 
 *'Yes, at Judge Selwyn's. By the way," I added, a 
 little mischievously, I confess, " allow me to make known 
 to one another, Mrs Charles Selwyn, once Caroline Stan- 
 hope, and Colonel Jervis." 
 
 Jervis bowed low, but his cheek and brow burned a 
 little, and he looked sharply at me out of the corner of his 
 eye ; but I preserved such a demure face, that he did not 
 quite know whether I was aufait or not. 
 
 Caroline, to do her justice, behaved exceedingly well. 
 Her character, indeed, which had been quite unformed 
 before her marriage, had gained solidity, and her mind, 
 judgment as well as tone, since her introduction to a 
 family so superior as that of the Selwyns. And she now 
 neither blushed nor tittered, nor, indeed, showed any 
 signs of consciousness, although she gave me a sly pinch, 
 while she was inquiring in her sweetest voice and serenest 
 manner after Adele, whom she said she had always loved 
 very much, and longed to see her sincerely in her new 
 
262 Valerie 
 
 station, which she was so admirably qualified to fill. " I 
 hear she was vastly admired in Paris, Colonel ; and no 
 wonder, for I really think she was the very prettiest 
 creature I ever saw in my life. You are a fortunate man, 
 Colonel Jervis." 
 
 " I am, indeed," said he, laughing. ^' Adele is a very 
 good little creature, and the people were so good-natured 
 as to be very civil to her in Paris, especially your friend 
 Madame d'Albret, Mademoiselle de Chatenoeuf. Nothing 
 could exceed her attentions to us. We are very much 
 indebted to you for her acquaintance. By the way, Adele 
 has no end of letters, and presents of all sorts for you from 
 her. When can you come and see Adele ? " 
 
 " Where are you staying, Colonel Jervis ? " 
 
 " At Thomas's Hotel, in Berkeley Square, at present, 
 until we can find a furnished house for the season. In 
 August we are going down to a little cottage of mine, in 
 the Highlands. And I believe Adele has some plan for 
 inducing you to come down and bear her company, while I 
 am slaughtering grouse and black cock." 
 
 " Thanks, Colonel, both to you and Adele. But I do 
 not know how that will be. August is two whole months 
 distant yet, and one never knows what may happen in the 
 course of two months. Do you know I was half thinking 
 of paying a visit to France myself, when my brother who 
 is on a visit to me now, returns to join his regiment." 
 
 " Were you, indeed ? " asked de Chavannes, more 
 earnestly than the subject seemed to warrant. " I had not 
 heard of that scheme before. Is it likely to be carried into 
 effect. Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " I hardly know. As yet it is little more than a distant 
 dream." 
 
 " But you have not yet answered my question, Made- 
 moiselle de Chatenoeuf," said the Colonel. " You have 
 not yet told me when you will come and see Adele." 
 
 " Oh ! pardon me. Colonel. I return to town to- 
 morrow, and I will not lose a moment. Suppose I say at 
 one o'clock to-morrow, or two will be better, Caroline, 
 
Valerie 263 
 
 the Judge was so good as to say that he would let his 
 carriage take me home ; I dare say it can drop me at 
 Thomas's, can it not ? " 
 
 ** Certainly, 7iot, Valerie ! There, don't stare now, or 
 look indignant or surprised. It served you perfectly right ; 
 what did you expect me to say ? Or why do you ask such 
 silly questions ? Of course, it can take you wherever you 
 please, precisely as if it were your own." 
 
 ** Then at two o'clock, I will be at Thomas's to-morrow, 
 Colonel ; in the meantime, pray give Adele my best love." 
 
 ** I will, indeed. And now I will intrude upon you 
 no longer, ladies," he added, raising his hat. " In fact, I 
 owe you many apologies for the liberty I have taken in 
 introducing myself. I hope you will believe I would not 
 have done so under any other circumstances." 
 
 We bowed, and, without any further remarks, he put 
 spurs to his horse and cantered away. 
 
 " A very gentlemanly person," said Caroline, " I think 
 Adele has done very well for herself." 
 
 " You had better not let Mr Charles Selwyn hear you 
 say so, under all circumstances, or I think that very likely 
 the whipping we were talking about in fun yesterday, will 
 become real car a mia I " 
 
 " Nonsense ! for shame, you mischievous thing ! " said 
 Caroline, blushing a little, but not painfully. 
 
 " Who is this Colonel Jervis ? " asked the Count de 
 Chavannes. **I was a little puzzled, or rather not a little : 
 for at first none of you seemed to know him ; and, after a 
 little while, you all appeared to know him quite well. 
 Pray explain the mystery." 
 
 " He is a very gentlemanly person. Count, as Mrs 
 Selwyn justly observes, and, as you can perceive, a very 
 handsome man. Further than that, he was Colonel of 
 one of his Majesty's crack regiments, as they call them, 
 and is now on half-pay. He is, moreover, a man of high 
 fashion, and of the first standing in society. And, last 
 of all, which is the secret of the whole, he is the husband 
 of a very charming little Frenchwoman, a particular friend 
 
264 Valerie 
 
 of Caroline's and mine, one of the prettiest and nicest 
 persons on earth, with whom he ran away some six months 
 since, fancying her to be — " 
 
 *' Valerie ! " exclaimed Caroline, blushing fiery red. 
 
 ** Caroline ! " replied I, quietly. 
 
 *' What ivere you going to say ? " 
 
 " Fancying her to be a very great heiress," I continued ; 
 ** but finding her to be a far better thing, a delightful, 
 beautiful, and excellent wife." 
 
 *' Happy man ! " said de Chavannes, with a half sigh. 
 
 ** Why do you say so. Count ? " 
 
 " To have married one for whom you vouch so strongly. 
 Is that any common fortune ? " 
 
 " It is rather common, Count, just of late I mean," 
 said Caroline, laughing. " You do not know that among 
 Valerie's other accomplishments she is the greatest little 
 match-maker in existence. She marries oiF all her friends 
 as fast — oh ! you cannot think how fast." 
 
 '' I hope, I mean to say I think,''^ he corrected himself, 
 not without some little confusion, " that she is not quite 
 so bad as you make her out. She has not yet made any 
 match for herself, I believe. No, no. I don't believe 
 she is quite so bad." 
 
 " I would not be too sure. Count, were I you," she 
 answered, desirous of paying me off a little for some of the 
 badinage with which I had treated her. ** These ladies, 
 with so many strings to their bow — " 
 
 It was now my time to exclaim ** Caroline ! " and I did 
 so not without giving some little emphasis of severity to 
 my tone, for I really thought she was going beyond the 
 limits of propriety, if not oi persiflage ; and I will do her the 
 justice to say that she felt it herself, for she blushed very 
 much as I spoke, and was at once silent. 
 
 The awkwardness of this pause was fortunately broken 
 by the return of Auguste and Lionel at a sharp canter ; for 
 the review was now entirely at an end, and they had now 
 for the first moment remembered that, having promised to 
 return in a quarter of an hour, they had suffered two hours 
 
Valerie 265 
 
 or more to eJapse, and that we were probably all 
 alone. 
 
 Caroline immediately began to rally Lionel and Auguste ; 
 the former, with whom she was very intimate, pretty 
 severely, for their want of gallantry in leaving us all alone 
 and unprotected in such a crowd. 
 
 " Not the least danger — not the least ! " replied Lionel 
 hastily. ** Had we not known that, we should have 
 returned long ago." 
 
 " In proof of which no danger, we have been all 
 frightened nearly to death ; Mademoiselle Valerie de 
 Chatenoouf has been grievously affronted, and I am not 
 sure but she would have been beaten by a French Chevalier 
 d" Industrie, had it not been for the gallantry of the Count 
 de Chavannes." 
 
 And thereupon out came the whole history of Monsieur 
 
 G— , his horse-whipping, the opportune appearance of 
 
 Colonel Jervis, and all the curious circumstances of the 
 scene. 
 
 I never in my life saw anyone so fearfully excited as 
 Auguste. He turned white as ashes, even to his very lips, 
 while his eyes literally flashed fire, and his frame shivered 
 as if he had been in an ague fit. '^ II me le paiera!^^ he 
 muttered between his hard-set teeth. " // me le paiera, le 
 scelerat I Ma pauvre soeur — ma pauvre petite Valerie ! " 
 
 And then he shook the hand of Chavannes with the 
 heartiest and warmest emotion. '* I shall never forget 
 this," he said, in a thick, low voice •, " never, never ! 
 From this time forth, de Chavannes, we are friends for 
 ever. But I shall never, never, be able to repay 
 you." 
 
 "Nonsense, mon cher, nonsense," replied Chavannes. 
 " I did nothing — positively nothing at all. I should not 
 have been a man, had I done otherwise." 
 
 This had, however, no effect at all in stopping Auguste's 
 exclamations and professions of eternal gratitude ; nor did 
 he cease until Monsieur de Chavannes said quietly, " Well, 
 well, if you will have it so, say no more about it ; and one 
 
266 Valerie 
 
 day or other I will ask a favour of you, which, if granted, 
 will leave me your debtor." 
 
 " V granted ! — it is granted," exclaimed Auguste, im- 
 petuously. *' What is it ? — name it — I say it is granted." 
 
 ** Don't be rash, mon cher^'' replied the Count, laughing^ 
 " it is no slight boon which I shall ask." 
 
 "Do not be foolish, Auguste," I interposed ; "you are 
 letting your feelings get the better of you, strangely ; and, 
 Caroline, if you do not tell the people to drive home, you 
 will keep the Judge waiting dinner — a proceeding to which 
 you know he is by no means partial." 
 
 " You are right, as usual, Valerie ; always thoughtful 
 for other people. So we will go home." 
 
 But, just as we were on the point of starting, the groom 
 with the cockade, whom we had seen following Colonel 
 Jervis, trotted up, and, touching his hat, asked, 
 
 " I beg your pardon, gentlemen, but is any one of you 
 the Count de Chavannes ? " 
 
 " I am," replied the Count ; " what do you want with 
 me, sir ? " 
 
 " From Colonel Jervis, sir," replied the man, handing 
 him a visiting card. " The Colonel's compliments. Count, 
 and he begs you will do him the favour, in case you hear 
 anything more from that fellow, as you horsewhipped. 
 Count, to let him know at Thomas's at once, for you must 
 not treat him as a gentleman, no how, the Colonel says ; 
 and if so be he gives you any trouble, the Colonel can 
 get his flint fixed — the Colonel can ! " 
 
 "Thank you, my man," replied the Count; "give my 
 compliments to your master, and I am much obliged for 
 his interest. I shall do myself the honour of waiting on 
 the Colonel to-morrow. Be so good as to tell him so." 
 
 " I will, sir," said the man ; and rode away without 
 another word. 
 
 " You see, Monsieur de Chatenoeuf, you must not 
 dream of noticing the fellow as a gentleman," said the 
 Count. 
 
 "Impossible!" Lionel chimed in, almost in the same 
 
Valerie 267 
 
 breath ; and all the ladies followed suit with their absolute 
 *' Impossible ! " 
 
 A rapid drive brought us to the Judge's house at Kew, 
 where we found dinner nearly ready, though not waiting : 
 and the events of the day were the topic, and the Count 
 the hero of the evening. 
 
 The next morning, we returned to town — Auguste and 
 myself, I mean ; Monsieur de Chavannes having driven up 
 from Kew in his own cabriolet after dinner. 
 
 I called, according to my promise, and found Adele 
 alone, and delighted to see me, and in the highest 
 possible spirits. She was the happiest of women, she 
 said ; and Colonel Jervis was everything that she could 
 wish — the kindest, most affectionate of husbands ; and all 
 that she now desired, as she declared, was to see me 
 established suitably. 
 
 *' You had better let matters take their course, Adele," 
 I answered. " Though not much of a fatalist, I believe 
 that when a person's time is to come, it comes. It avails 
 nothing to hurry — nothing to endeavour to retard it. I 
 shall fare, I doubt not, as my friends before me, dear 
 Adele ; and, if I can consult as well for myself as I seem 
 to have done for my friends, I shall do very well. Caro- 
 line, by the way, is quite as happy as you declare yourself 
 to be, and I doubt not are ; for I like your Colonel 
 amazingly." 
 
 **I am delighted to hear it. He also is charmed with 
 you. But who is the Count de Chavannes, of whom he is 
 so full just now? He says he is the only Frenchman he 
 ever saw worthy to be an Englishman — which, though we 
 may not exactly regard it as a compliment, he considers 
 the greatest thing he can say in any one's favour. Who is 
 this Count de Chavannes, Valerie ? " 
 
 I told her, in reply, all that I knew, and that you know, 
 gentle reader, about the Count de Chavannes. 
 
 ** Et puis ? — Et puis ? " asked Adele, laughing. 
 
 ^^ Et puis, nothing at all," I answered. 
 
 "No secrets among friends, Valerie," said Adele, 
 
268 Valerie 
 
 looking me earnestly in the face j " I had none with you, 
 and you helped me with your advice. Be as frank, at 
 least, with me, if you love me." 
 
 " I do love you dearly, Adele ; and I have no secrets. 
 There is nothing concerning which to have a secret." 
 
 " Nothing ? — not this gay and gallant Count ? " 
 
 " Not even he." 
 
 '*And you are not about to become Madame la 
 Comtesse ? " 
 
 " I am not, indeed." 
 
 " Indeed — in very deed ? " 
 
 "In very — very deed." 
 
 " Well, I do not understand it. By what Jervis told me, 
 I presumed it was a settled thing." 
 
 " The Colonel was mistaken. There is nothing settled 
 or unsettled." 
 
 " And do you, really, not like him ? " 
 
 "I really do like him, Adele, as a very pleasant com- 
 panion for an hour or two, and as a very perfect 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Yes, he told me all that. But, if you like him so well, 
 why not like him better ? Why not love him ? " 
 
 " I will be plain and true with you, Adele. I do not 
 choose to consider at all, whether I could or could not, love 
 him. He has never asked me, has never spoken of love to 
 me ; and putting it out of the question that it is unmaidenly 
 to love unasked, I am sure it is unwise." 
 
 " I understand, I understand. But he will ask you, that 
 is certain ; and, when he does ask, what shall you say ? " 
 
 " It will be time enough to consider when that time shall 
 come." 
 
 " Another way of saying, * I shall say yes I ' But come, 
 Valerie, you must promise me that if you need my assist- 
 ance, you will call upon me for it. You knoiju that anything 
 I can do for you will be done without a thought but how 
 I best may serve you j and Jervis will do likewise, since 
 he, as I do, considers that under Heaven, we owe our 
 happiness to you." 
 
Valerie 269 
 
 " I promise it." 
 
 " Enough ; I will ask no more. Now come up to my 
 room, and I will give you Madame d'Albret's letters, and 
 some pretty presents she has sent you. Do you know, 
 Valerie, nothing could exceed her kindness to us. I 
 believe she repents bitterly her unkindness to you. I can- 
 not repeat the terms of praise and admiration which she 
 applied to you." 
 
 " And do you know, Adele, that it was her infamous 
 
 and miserable husband. Monsieur G , whom the Count 
 
 horsewhipped this very day, for insulting me ? " 
 
 ** Indeed.-^ was it indeed? That man's enmity to you 
 will never cease, so long as he has life. No, Jervis did 
 not tell me who it was, thinking, I fancy, that neither you 
 nor I would have so much as known his name. But 
 never care about the wretch. Here is Madame's 
 letter." 
 
 It was as kind a letter as could be written, full of thanks 
 for the favour I had shown her in introducing my friends 
 to her, and of hopes that we should one day meet again, 
 when all the past should be forgotten, and I should resume 
 my own place and station in the society of my own land. 
 She begged my acceptance of the pretty dresses she sent, 
 which she said she had selected, not for their value, but 
 because they were pretty •, and, in her postscript, she 
 added, what of course outweighed all the rest of her 
 letter, both in interest and importance, that she had recently 
 been informed through a strange channel, and, as it were, 
 by accident, that my mother's health was failing, seriously, 
 and that, although not attacked by any regular disorder, 
 nor in any immediate danger, it was not thought probable 
 that she could live much longer. *' In that case, Valerie,*' 
 she continued, " for, although no one could be so unnatural 
 as to ivish for a mother's death, how cruel and unmotherly 
 she might be soever, it cannot be expected that you should 
 regard her decease with more than decent observation, and a 
 proper seriousness, and I shall look to see you dwelling again 
 among us, and spending the little fortune which I under- 
 
270 Valerie 
 
 stand you have so bravely earned, in the midst of your 
 friends, and in your own country." 
 
 ** That I shall never do," I said, speaking aloud, though 
 in answer partly to her letter, partly to my own words ; 
 *' that I shall never do. Visit France I may, once and 
 again ; but in England I shall dwell. France banished and 
 repudiated me like a step-mother — England received me, 
 kinder than my own, like a mother. In England I shall 
 dwell." 
 
 "Wait till you see the lord of your destinies ; and learn 
 where he shall dwell. You will have to say, like the rest 
 of us, * Your country shall be my country, and your God 
 my God,' " — observed Adele interrupting my musings. 
 
 " The first perhaps — the last never ! never ! Catholic I 
 was born. Catholic I will die. I do not say that I will 
 never marry any but a Catholic, but I do say that I will 
 never marry but one who will approve my adoring my own 
 God, according to my own conscience." 
 
 " Is the Count de Chavannes a Catholic ? " 
 
 "Indeed, I know not. But he is a Breton, and the 
 Bretons are a loyal race, both to their king and their God." 
 
 I now turned to finish my reading, which had been for 
 the moment interrupted. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear Valerie," she concluded her letter, 
 " I have long felt that although we were certainly justified 
 by the circumstances of your situation, in taking the steps 
 we did at that time, we have been hardly pardonable in 
 persisting so long in the maintenance of a falsehood, which 
 has certainly been the cause of great pain and suiFering 
 to both your parents, the innocent no less than the guilty. 
 I know that your mother can never forgive me for aiding 
 you in your escape from her authority ; but for my part, 
 I am willing to bear her enmity, rather than persist in 
 further concealment, so that you need not in any degree 
 consider me in any steps which you may think it wise or 
 right to take towards revelation and reconciliation. Indeed 
 I think, Valerie, that if it can be done with due regard 
 to your own safety and happiness, you ought to discover 
 
Valerie 271 
 
 yourself to both your parents, and, if possible, even to 
 visit the most unhappy, because the guiltier of the two, 
 before her dissolution, which I really believe to be now 
 very near at hand. Everyone knows so well what you 
 have undergone, that no blame will attach to you in the 
 least degree. Allow me to add, that should you return to 
 France, as I hope you will do, I shall never forgive you if 
 you do not make my house your home." 
 
 This postscript, as will readily be beHeved, gave me 
 more cause for thought than all the letter beside, and 
 rendered me exceedingly uneasy. If I had felt ill-satisfied 
 before with my condition and my concealment, much more 
 was I now discontented with myself, and unhappy. I was 
 almost resolved to return at all hazards with Auguste ; 
 and, indeed, when I consulted with Adele, she leaned very 
 much towards the same opinion. I would not, however, 
 do anything rashly, but determined to consult not only 
 with my brother, but with the Judge, in whose wisdom 
 I had no less confidence than I had in his friendship and 
 integrity. 
 
 Things, however, were destined to occur, which in 
 some degree altered and hastened all my proceedings, for 
 that very evening when the Gironacs had retired, on my 
 beginning to consult Auguste, " Listen to me a moment, 
 before you tell me about your letters from France, or 
 anything about returning, and I entreat you answer me 
 truly, and let no false modesty, or little missish delicacy, 
 prevent your doing so. Many a life has been rendered 
 miserable by such fooHshness, I have heard say ; and 
 being, as it were, almost alone in the world, as if an only 
 brother with an only sister, to whom, if not to one another, 
 should we speak freely ? " 
 
 ^' You need not have made so long a preamble, dear 
 Auguste," I replied with a smile ; "of course, I will 
 answer you ; and, when I say that, of course I will answer 
 truly." 
 
 *' Well, then, Valerie, do you like this Count de 
 Chavannes 1 " 
 
272 Valerie 
 
 "It is an odd question, but — Yes. I do like him." 
 
 " Do you love him, Valerie ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Auguste — that is not fair. Besides, he has never 
 spoken to me of love. He has never — I do not know 
 whether he loves me — I have no reason to believe that he 
 does." 
 
 *'No reason!" — he exclaimed, half surprised, half in- 
 dignant — "no reason ! I should thmk — but never mind — 
 answer me this ; if he did love you, do you love him or 
 like him enough to take him for your husband ? " 
 
 " He has spoken to you, Auguste — he has spoken to 
 you ! " I exclaimed, blushing very deeply, but unable to 
 conceal my gratification. 
 
 "I am answered, Valerie, by the sparkle of those 
 bright eyes. Yes, he has spoken to me, dearest sister ; 
 and asked my influence with you, and my permission to 
 address you." 
 
 " And you replied — — ? " 
 
 " And I replied, that my permission was a matter of no 
 consequence, for that you were entirely your own mistress, 
 and that my influence would be exerted only to induce you 
 to follow your own judgment and inclinations, and to 
 consult for your own happiness." 
 
 " Answered like a good and wise brother. And then 
 he ? " 
 
 " Asked, whether I could form any opinion of the state 
 of your feelings. To which I replied, that I could only 
 say that I had reason to suppose that your hand and heart 
 were neither of them engaged, and that the field was open 
 to him if he chose to make a trial. But that I had no 
 opportunity of judging how you felt toward him. I also 
 said, that I thought you knew very little of each other, 
 and that his attachment must have grown up too rapidly 
 to have taken a very strong root. But there I found I 
 was mistaken. For he assured me that it was from esteem 
 of your character, and admiration of your energy, courage, 
 and constancy under adversity, not from the mere pretti- 
 ness of your face, or niceness of your manners, that he 
 
Valerie 273 
 
 first began to love you. And I since ascertained that 
 there is scarce an incident of your life with which he has 
 not made himself acquainted, and that in the most delicate 
 and guarded manner. I confess, Valerie, that it has raised 
 him greatly in my estimation to find that he looks upon 
 marriage as a thing so serious and solemn, and does not 
 rush into it from mere fancy for a pretty face and ladylike 
 accomplishments." 
 
 " I think so too, Auguste," I replied. " But I wish we 
 knew a little more about him. His character and prin- 
 ciples, I mean." 
 
 Auguste looked at me for a moment, in great surprise. 
 "What an exceedingly matter-of-fact girl you are, 
 Valerie ; I never knew any one in the least like you. 
 
 Do you know I am afraid you are a little " and he 
 
 paused a moment, as if he hardly knew how to proceed. 
 
 " A little hard and cold, is it not, dear Auguste ? " 
 said I, throwing my arms about him. " No, no, indeed 
 I am not ; but I have been cast so long on my own sole 
 resources, and obliged to rely only on my own energy and 
 clear-sightedness, that I always try to look at both sides 
 of the question, and not to let my feelings overpower me, 
 until I have proved that it is good and wise to do so. 
 Consider, too, Auguste, that on this step depends the 
 whole happiness or misery of a girl's existence." 
 
 " You are right, Valerie, and I am wrong. But tell 
 me, do you love him ? " 
 
 " I do, Auguste. I like him better than any man 
 I have ever seen. He is the only man of whom I could 
 think as a husband — and I have for some time past been 
 fearful of liking him — loving him, too much, not knowing, 
 though I did believe and hope, that he reciprocated my 
 feelings. And now, if I knew but a little more of his 
 principles and character, I would not hesitate." 
 
 " Then you need not hesitate, dearest Valerie ; for, as if 
 to obviate this objection, he showed me, in the most delicate 
 manner, private letters from his oldest and most intimate 
 friends, and especially from Mr , a most respectable 
 
274 Valerie 
 
 clergyman, who lives at Hendon, by whom he was 
 educated, and with whom he has maintained constant 
 intercourse and correspondence ever since. This alone 
 speaks very highly in his favour, and the terms in which 
 he writes to his pupil, are such as prove them both to be 
 men of the highest character for worth, integrity, and 
 virtue. He has proposed, moreover, that I should ride 
 
 down with him to-morrow to Hendon, to visit Mr ^ 
 
 and to hear from his own lips yet more of his character 
 and conduct, that is to say, if I can give him any hopes of 
 ultimate success." 
 
 *' Well, Auguste," I replied, " I think with you, that all 
 this speaks very highly in favour of your friend ; and I 
 think that the best thing you can do, is to take this ride 
 which he proposes, and see his tutor. In the meantime, 
 I will drive down to Kew, and speak with our good friend. 
 Judge Selwyn, on the subject. To-morrow evening I will 
 see the Count, and hear whatever he desires to say to me." 
 This was a very matter-of-fact way of dealing with the 
 affair, certainly ; but what Auguste had said, was in some 
 sort true. I was in truth rather a matter-of-fact girl, and 
 I never found that I suffered by it in the least ; for I 
 certainly was not either worldly or selfish, and the feelings 
 do, as certainly, require to be guided and controlled by 
 sober reason. 
 
 After coming to this conclusion, I showed Madame 
 d'Albret's letter to Auguste, and we came to the decision,- 
 also, that, under the circumstances, Auguste should im- 
 mediately, on his return, communicate the fact of my being 
 alive and in good circumstances, to my father ; leaving it 
 at his discretion to inform my mother of the facts or not, 
 as he might judge expedient. 
 
 At a very early hour next morning, I took a glass-coach 
 and drove down to Kew, where I arrived, greatly to the 
 astonishment of the whole family, just as they were sitting 
 down to breakfast ; and, when I stated that I had come ta 
 speak on very urgent business with the Judge, he desired 
 my carriage to return to town, and proposed to carry me 
 
Valerie 275 
 
 back himself, so that we might kill two birds, as he 
 expressed it, with one stone, holding a consultation in his 
 carriage, while on his way to court. 
 
 As soon as we got into the coach, while I was hesitating 
 how to open the subject, which was certainly a little awk- 
 ward for a young girl, the Judge took up the discourse — 
 
 " Well, Valerie," he said, " I suppose you want to know 
 the result of the inquiries which you were so unwilling 
 that I should make about the Count de Chavannes. Is not 
 that true ? " 
 
 **It is perfectly true, Judge — though I do not know 
 how you ever have divined it." 
 
 ** It is lucky, at least, that I consulted my own judgment, 
 rather than your fancy ; for otherwise I should have had 
 no information to give you." 
 
 " But as it is. Judge ? " 
 
 "Why as it is. Mademoiselle Valerie, you may marry 
 him as soon as ever he asks you, and think yourself a very 
 lucky young lady into the bargain. He has a character 
 such as not one man in fifty can produce. He is rich, 
 liberal without being extravagant, never plays, is by no 
 means dissipated, and in all respects is a man of honour, 
 ability, and character ; such is what I have learned from a 
 quarter where there can be no mistake." 
 
 I was a good deal affected for a moment or two, and 
 was very near bursting into tears. The good Judge took 
 my hand in his, and spoke soothingly and almost caressingly, 
 bidding me confide in him altogether, and he would advise 
 me, as if he were my own father. 
 
 I did so accordingly ; and, while he approved highly of 
 ail that I had done, and of the delicate and gentlemanly 
 manner in which the Count had acted, he fully advised me 
 to deal frankly and directly with him. " You like him, I 
 am sure, Valerie ; indeed, I believe I knew that before you 
 did yourself, and I have no doubt he will make you an 
 admirable husband. Tell him all, show him this letter of 
 your friend Madame d'Albret's, about your mother, and if 
 he desires it, as I dare say he will, marry him at once, and 
 
276 Valerie 
 
 set out together with Auguste, for France, when his leave 
 of absence is expired, and go directly to Paris with your 
 husband. As a married woman, your parents will have no 
 authority of any kind over you, and I think it is your duty 
 to do so." 
 
 I agreed with him at once ; and, when in the evening 
 Auguste returned with the Count from a visit to his 
 former tutor, which had been in all respects satisfactory, 
 and left me alone with Monsieur de Chavannes, everything 
 was determined without difficulty. 
 
 Love-scenes and courtships, though vastly interesting to 
 the actors, are always the dullest things in the world to 
 bystanders ; I shall therefore proceed at once to the end, 
 merely stating that the Count ivas all, and did all, that the 
 most exigeante of women could have required — that from 
 the first to the last he was full of delicacy, of tenderness, 
 and honour, and that after twelve years of a happy life 
 with him, I have never had cause to repent for a moment 
 that I consented to give him the hand, which he so 
 ardently desired. 
 
 The joy of Madame Gironac can be imagined better 
 than described, as well as the manner in which she bustled 
 about my trousseau and my outfit for France, as it was 
 determined that the Judge's plan should be adopted to the 
 letter, and that we should start directly from St George's 
 to Dover and Calais. 
 
 Never, perhaps, was a marriage more rapidly organised 
 and completed. The law-business was expedited with all 
 speed by Charles Selwyn ; Madame Bathurst, the Jervises, 
 the Gironacs, and the Selwyns were alone present at the 
 wedding, and, though we were all dear friends, there was 
 no affectation of tears or lamentable partings j for we knew 
 that in heaven's pleasure, we should all meet again within 
 a few months, as, after our wedding tour was ended. 
 Monsieur de Chavannes proposed to take up his abode in 
 England, the land of his choice, as of his education. 
 
 There was no bishop to perform the ceremony, nor any 
 duke to give away the bride. No long array of liveried 
 
Valerie 
 
 277 
 
 servants with favours in their buttons and in their hats — 
 no pompous paragraph in the morning papers to describe 
 the beauties of the high-bred bride and the dresses of her 
 aristocratic bridesmaids — but two hearts were united 
 as well as two hands, and Heaven smiled upon the 
 union. 
 
 A quick and pleasant passage carried us to Paris, where 
 I was received with raptures by my good old friend, 
 Madame Paon, and with sincere satisfaction by Madame 
 d'Albret, who was proud to recognise her old protegee in 
 the new character of the Comtesse de Chavannes, a 
 character which she imagined reflected no small credit on 
 her tuition and patronage. 
 
 The threatened emeute having passed over, Auguste 
 easily obtained a renewal of his leave of absence in order 
 to visit his family at Pau, and, as he preceded us by three 
 days, and travelled with the utmost diligence, he out- 
 stripped us by nearly a week, and we found both my 
 parents prepared to receive us, and both really happy at 
 the prosperous tidings. 
 
 My poor mother was indeed dying ; had we come two 
 days later we should have been too late, for she died in 
 my arms on the day following our arrival, enraptured to 
 find herself relieved from the heinous crime of which she 
 had so long believed herself guilty, and blessing me with 
 her dying lips. 
 
 My father who had always loved me, and who had erred 
 through weakness of head only, seemed never to weary of 
 sitting beside me, of holding my hand in his, and of gazing 
 in my face. With Monsieur de Chavannes' consent, the 
 whole of my little earnings, amounting now to nearly 
 ;^35oo, was settled on him for his life, and then on my 
 sisters, and the income arising from it, though a mere trifle 
 in England, in that cheap region sufficed with what he 
 possessed of his own, to render his old age affluent and 
 happy. 
 
 Thus all my trials ended ; and, if the beginning of my 
 career was painful and disastrous, the cares and sorrows of 
 
2yS Valerie 
 
 Valerie de Chatenoeuf had been more than compensated by 
 the happiness of Valerie de Chavannes. 
 
 I may as well mention here that a few years afterwards, 
 Lionel Dempster married my second sister, Elisee, a very 
 nice and very handsome girl, and has settled very close to 
 the villa which the Count purchased on his return from 
 France, near Windsor, on the lovely Thames, ministering 
 not a little by their company to the bliss of our happy, 
 peaceful life. 
 
 My eldest brother, Auguste, is now a Lieutenant-Colonel 
 of the Line, having greatly distinguished himself in Algeria ; 
 Nicholas, who never returned to France, has acquired both 
 renown and riches by his musical abilities, and all the 
 younger branches of the family are happily provided for. 
 
 I have three sweet children, one boy, and two little 
 girls, and the difficulties and sorrows I experienced, owing 
 to an evil and injudicious course of education, have been 
 so far of use, that they have taught me how to bring up 
 my own children, even more to love and honour than to 
 obey. 
 
 Perfect happiness is not alloted to any here below ; but 
 few and short have been the latter sorrows, and infinite 
 the blessings vouchsafed by a kind Providence, to the once 
 poor and houseless, but now rich, and honoured, and, 
 better than all, loved Valerie. 
 
 THE END. 
 
PRINTED BY 
 
 TURNBULL AND SPEARS 
 
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