//
 
 y,,/ IV Ir-J- 
 
 "^ 
 
 LI E) RAFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVERSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 B6lst 
 
 v.l
 
 The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return to the library from 
 which it was withdrawn on or before the 
 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons 
 for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from 
 the University. 
 To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 JUL I 198 
 
 mo 
 
 L161— O-1096
 
 
 ^r^^i^c^' ^ e^&'^isi^^fe^;?^^?^^
 
 STKATHERN ; 
 
 OR 
 
 LIFE AT HOME AND ABEOAD. 
 
 A STORY OF THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 BY 
 THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. 
 
 How like a Comedy is life ! 
 With shifting scenes and changes rife, 
 Some sad, some gay; but to the wise, 
 A moral lesson each supplies. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 ■ « 
 
 LONDON: 
 ilENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1845.
 
 FREDERICK SHOBERL, JUNIOR, 
 PRINTER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT, 
 
 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET.
 
 8^3 
 
 V. I 
 
 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 We make ourselves a pleasant home, 
 
 Deck'cl out with all that's rich and rare, 
 As though we thought Death would not come 
 
 To tear us from a scene so fair : 
 Or if we know he'll come, we b'lieve 
 
 'Twill be when age has bent us low ; 
 Ah me ! how we ourselves deceive — 
 
 \\Tio knows when he will strike the blow ? 
 Nor gilded hall, nor blooming bow'r, 
 
 Can shield us from the Tyrant's sway ; 
 He's ever near with fatal pow'r 
 
 To snatch us from the realms of day, 
 And change our much-lov'd pleasant home 
 For the dark grave — where all must come. 
 
 It was a lovely morning towards the end of June, 
 the hour about eleven, ere yet the freshness of early 
 morn had passed from the balmy air, or from the 
 blooming plants and flowers, redolent of perfume, which 
 filled the small garden attached to a noble mansion in 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 STRATHERN. 
 
 Arlinoion Street, into which the apartment about to 
 be described opened. The said garden was bounded 
 by St. James"'s Park, and divided from it only by an 
 ornamental iron railing. Innumerable birds were 
 ilittino- from the luxuriant laurustinus, which flanked 
 the windows of this mansion, and perching on the 
 white marble border of a limpid fountain which sent 
 up its sparkling showers towards a sky unusually blue 
 for our nebulous climate. The notes of these feathered 
 choristers, mingled with the gushing sound of the 
 water, added to the charm of the scene, and almost 
 created a doubt whether one was indeed in thepurheus 
 of St. Jameses. Seated in a library, and looking out 
 on the little wilderness of sweets before described, sate 
 the owner of the mansion, a handsome young man of 
 about five-and-twenty, only lately returned from an 
 extended tour on the Continent. Glancing occasion- 
 ally with great complacency from the blooming garden 
 with its sparkling fountain at the exterior of the 
 house, to the tastefully fitted-up and classically ar- 
 ranged library of the interior, he murmured to him- 
 self'' " Yes, even Rhymer, with all the fastidiousness 
 of taste attributed to him, must be satisfied with this 
 
 apartment." 
 
 And well might Lord Wyndermere, the owner ot 
 the said library, think so, for few, however difficult to 
 be pleased, could have found fault with it. The 
 chamber was large and lofty ; the ceiling, exquisitely 
 painted, represented a charming group of the Muses, 
 with their different attributes, surrounding Apollo. 
 Bookcases of finely carved oak, the capitals of the 
 columns that supported them, and the cornices richly
 
 STRATHERN. 
 
 gilded, were crowned by antique busts of rare beauty 
 and great value. Between each bookcase was a niche, 
 in which, on a pedestal, stood a statue of Parian 
 marble, the workmanship of the best sculptors of our 
 day ; for Lord Wyudermere, although a warm admirer 
 of the antique, was a most liberal patron of modern 
 art. A large mirror oyer the low chimney-piece, itself 
 a gem of sculpture, reflected back the garden and foun- 
 tain, with the bright prismatic hues of the stained 
 glass window, which formed a frame to the picture 
 On each side of this lofty mirror were suspended some 
 ot the choicest works of the ancient masters, collected 
 with great judgment, and at a vast expense, by the 
 father of the present Lord Wyndermere, an acknow- 
 ledged connoisseur in pictures. The curtains were of 
 the richest satin, the precise colour of the oak book 
 cases, and the chairs and sofas were covered with the 
 same costly material. The uncut velvet pile carpet 
 of a substance which prevented a footfall from beino- 
 heard, was of the peculiar tint denominated Raphml 
 green, from the preference evinced for the colour bv 
 that glorious artist, and the walls M-ere of similar 
 hue A dejeiner, served on the most delicate and 
 costly SeTve. porcelain, was placed on a table near the 
 open window, while dumb-waiters, covered with snowv 
 damask, and p led with plate, forks, and spoons, stood 
 near the two chairs intended for the persons who were 
 to partake the repast. Fruit, which might be likened 
 to the golden produce of the fabled Hesperides, if not 
 from Its bloom, at least from the enormous cost of its 
 culture crowned the breakfast-table, mingled with 
 every description of cake and bread furnished by mo- 
 
 b2
 
 4 STRATHERN. 
 
 (Icrn refinement, to stimulate the sated appetite of an 
 epicure. 
 
 At length the expected guest arrived ; and to the no 
 slight disappointment of his host, who expected some 
 expression of admiration at the really charming scene 
 into which he was ushered, he took his seat at the 
 table, placed his napkin on his knees, and began to 
 discuss the dainties set before him. While doing so, 
 he occasionally glanced around, but no look of satis- 
 faction or approval marked his saturnine countenance. 
 
 " Who is your bakerj my good lord V asked he. 
 
 " He is one who appertains to my establishment at 
 Wyndermere Castle, and is considered so good, that I 
 had him up here." 
 
 " Umph," uttered Rhymer, in a sound half-groan, 
 half-sigh, laying down the delicate roll he had tasted. 
 
 " I fear you do not like the rolls, will you try these 
 breakfast-cakes ? I think you will find them good." 
 
 The breakfast-cake was cut, tasted, and almost as 
 quickly relinquished as the roll, Mr. Rhymer's coun- 
 tenance becoming considerably lengthened after the 
 unsuccessful experiment. A new-laid egg was recom- 
 mended by the host, and, having been broken, was pro- 
 nounced to have the odour of the stable. A delicate 
 slice of cold chicken was found to be tough. A pate 
 de Perigord was declined somewhat disdainfully. The 
 offer of cold ham or tongue met no better chance ; and 
 the chocolate was discovered to have a peculiar and 
 not agreeable flavour. Marmalade was then tried, and 
 with this dernier e ressource a slight dejeuner was 
 effected, to the no small discomfiture of the kind host, 
 who saw with reoret that his luxuriously-served board
 
 STRATHERN. 
 
 afforded nothing to satisfy the fastidious taste of his 
 
 guest. 
 
 " What an agreeable da^^ we had at Strathern^s !'' 
 observed Lord Wyndermere, anxious to dispel the 
 >awkwardness occasioned by the total failure of his 
 recherche breakfast. 
 
 " Do you think so V was the laconic reply of Mr. 
 Rhymer. " For my part," continued he, " I saw little 
 to admire in i\\Qfete. There was, it is true, the same 
 ostentatious display of splendour which always charac- 
 terizes that gentleman'*s fetes^ but the evident effort to 
 make the thing go off well, and the superabundant 
 appliances for amusement, in my opinion, defeated the 
 end aimed at. It was like the apple-pie, with too 
 many quinces." 
 
 " You must, indeed, be difficult to be pleased ; for 
 surely nothing was left undone to contribute to the 
 pleasure of the guests T' 
 
 " Except the host's concealing his self-complacency 
 on the occasion. The too visible display of that, I 
 confess, interfered very much with mine, as he moved 
 about smiling on all, saying something civil to every- 
 body — ay, even to those paid for exhibiting their 
 talents to the company." 
 
 " There is no satisfying you, Mr. Rhymer. It 
 was only a few days ago that I heard you find fault with 
 JVIelbrook for being a careless Amphitryon, and wan- 
 dering among his conmres^ as if he were only a visiter, 
 like the rest." 
 
 " Yes, my good lord, I did find fault, for I thought 
 that the nonchalance of Melbrook towards his aristo- 
 cratic guests, a mere part^enu as he is known to be,
 
 '6 STRATIIERN. 
 
 amounted to little short of insolence. With Strathern, 
 who is a man of high family, it is quite different. 
 Nonchalance would in Mm have been much more 
 comme-il-faut^ in my opinion, than the empressement 
 he displayed, reminding one of a provincial Boniface, 
 ' on hospitable thoughts intent,' thinking of every- 
 one's comfort but his own.'' 
 
 " I observed nothing of all this. Au contraire, I 
 consider Strathern to be the best bred, as well as the 
 most hospitable man I know." 
 
 " And so, I dare say, think many others ; for 
 people are too indolent to diff'er from the herd; and 
 when a peculiarly indulgent person like your lordship 
 has pronounced such an opinion, others will not be 
 found wanting to adopt it." 
 
 " I disclaim all right to indulgence with regard to 
 Strathern and his fete,'''' observed Lord Wyndermere, 
 " for neither require it. How well the Diva sang 
 there ; I thought I never heard her in such good 
 voice." 
 
 " Strange to say, it struck me — but it must have 
 been only fancy — that she sang terribly out of tune. 
 The ballet, too, went off" flatly ; the danseuses could 
 not leave the earth, of which they seemed to me to 
 form too palpable a portion to give any pleasure by 
 their evolutions. It was a great mistake in Strathern 
 to adopt this innovation, unless, indeed, he had con- 
 structed an inclined plane on the principle of the 
 theatres, where these odalisques exhibit their feats, and 
 sleight of feet, and by the elasticity of which they are 
 enabled to ascend into air for a brief moment. On 
 this ascent depends all the poetry of dancing, and
 
 STRATHERN. 7 
 
 consequently its charm — at least for refined minds. 
 Without it the best danseuse appears to no greater ad- 
 vantao^e than the Blowsabellas who fiojure in barbarous 
 Scots reels and Irish jigs, and so, to my eyes, ap- 
 peared the graceful Taglioni, and the bounding Cerito, 
 at Strathern'*s y^if^." 
 
 " I see that you are determined to discover faults ; 
 but ouo'ht not the intention of the oiver of the enter- 
 tainment to find favour with you ! Consider the lavish 
 expense to furnish amusement." 
 
 " I have considered it, and the motive too, as I for- 
 merly stated — Ostentation." 
 
 " I difier with you in opinion, Mr, Rhymer.'"' 
 
 " Very naturally. I am, as eveiy body will tell 
 you, very old, and my opinions are influenced by my 
 age, while your lordship is young, ^^ry young in- 
 deed," said the speaker, more as if in pity than in 
 approval. 
 
 " I hear we are to have a fine concert at the Duke 
 of Aberfield's." 
 
 " I dare say it will be a failure, as all his Grace of 
 Aberfield's concerts are. The Duke seems never to 
 lose the consciousness of his rank, and wishes that the 
 weight of his ducal coronet should oppress others as 
 much as it evidently does himself, poor vain man ! 
 Would you believe it ? — when he writes to me, he com- 
 mences with ' My good Sir ' — yes, positively, My 
 good Sir — ay, and ends in the same style." 
 
 " I believe that he writes ' My good Lord,' to 
 me," said Lord Wyndermere, who, never having 
 attached the slightest importance to the point, remem- 
 bered not, at the moment, what were the precise words
 
 8 STRATHERN. 
 
 in which the Duke of Aberfield usually addressed him, 
 but who, observing that the amour propre of Mr. 
 Rhymer was wounded by the imagined slight, wished 
 to soothe it by the assertion. 
 
 " Could you refer to a note from his ungracious 
 grace, to satisfy me that he uses peers as disdainfully 
 as he does commoners V said the cynic. 
 
 " Yes, I think there is one in this drawer,'" replied 
 Lord Wyndermere, opening one in the library-table, 
 from which he drew a note from the Duke, and handed 
 it to Mr. Rhymer. 
 
 " I was right,"' said the latter, with bitterness, as 
 he glanced over the note ; he writes to you ' My dear 
 Lord \ it is only to persons like me that he uses the 
 word good instead of dear. But how could a plain 
 ' Mr.", whatever might be his claims to notice, be dear 
 to the Duke of Aberfield, unless, indeed, he was suffi- 
 ciently skilled in antiquarian lore to discover in what 
 degree of consanguinity his grace stands to the first 
 of the Scottish kings r 
 
 " You are severe on him,"" observed Lord Wynder- 
 mere ; " I never noticed anything offensive in the 
 manners or bearing of the Duke ; both are stately, I 
 own, but no one can be more courteous."" 
 
 " Again you are too indulgent, my lord, indeed 
 you are. You will spoil society, as children are 
 spoilt, by too much kindness. It won"t do, it will 
 not, I assure you. I am an old man, though not 
 nearly so old as some of my kind friends would wish 
 to make me out, and I know by experience that the 
 good-natured are trifled with and laughed at, while 
 the fastidious and severe are feared and respected.""
 
 STRATHERN. 9 
 
 ^^Your experience has, I should think, not been 
 much exercised in the good-natured line," said Lord 
 Wyndermere, laughing. " Or was it, after having 
 tried its inefficacy, as a means of acquiring popularity 
 in society, that you had recourse to..."" 
 
 '■'•Ill-nature^ you would say,*" resumed Mr. Rhymer. 
 " Well, be it so ; call me morose, cynic, what you will, 
 but defend me from being confounded with the grin- 
 ning herd who flock from house to house, bepraising 
 all and every thing, pleased with every body, and 
 most with self. A-'propos of being pleased, as you 
 have wished for my opinion of your new house, may I 
 tell you candidly that I don't like it." 
 
 " Indeed, I am sorry for that." 
 
 '' This library, par exemple^ is not fitted up to my 
 taste. Oak and gold is bad. Gilding should only be 
 used in bookcases for ladies ; they like glitter and show ; 
 but a man's library should be grave and plain. Then 
 your books are too richly bound ; they look as if they 
 belonged to ^ petit-maitre^ or a retired citizen. Books, 
 when very finely bound, convey the notion that they 
 are not meant to be much read. The room altogether 
 looks too gay for a place to study in. The hangings, 
 too, are not sufficiently subdued ; the frames of the 
 mirrors and pictures are too rich. In short, my dear 
 lord, the ensemble is not precisely such as a man of re- 
 fined taste could approve." 
 
 Having rendered his host thoroughly dissatisfied 
 with all that had previously pleased him in tlic 
 arrangement of his house, Mr. Rhymer wished him 
 good morning, saying that he must call on the Duchess 
 
 B 5
 
 10 STRATHERN, 
 
 of Rochdale, who wanted to consult him on a matter of 
 taste. 
 
 "And this is the man whom I heard last night 
 uttering the most flattering compliments to Strathern 
 about his fete^'' said Lord Wyndermere to himself. 
 " Where are we to look for truth, if not among those 
 whose position and age should exempt them from the 
 incentive to deception? I wish I had not asked the 
 old cynic to come and see my house ; he will now go 
 and decry it to every one he meets, and, after having 
 incurred a heavy expense in furnishing it, I shall be 
 considered a man of bad taste. The only person who is 
 really frank and kind is Strathern, and yet how old 
 Rhymer abused Itu taste ! I thought this room per- 
 fection, and now — yet what a fool I am to be put out 
 of conceit with it, because it happens not to please 
 that ill-natured old man, who has always something- 
 spiteful to say of every thing and every body ! I 
 wonder people tolerate him, for I am sure I can see no 
 reason." 
 
 " He is rich, and that, in this great wilderness of 
 brick and mortar, is the best of all reasons,"" said 
 Strathern, who had entered the library, while Lord 
 Wyndermere was indulging his soliloquy aloud, and 
 was so engrossed by the subject of it that he had not 
 heard the announcement of his visiter's name by the 
 servant who had ushered him in. 
 
 "And so you not only think, my dear lord — a rare 
 occupation for a man of fashion in London to indulge 
 in — but what is more dangerous, you think aloud^'''' re- 
 sumed Strathern, after the first salutations had past. 
 " I met Rhymer near your door, and he looked so
 
 STRATHERN. 11 
 
 unusually complacent, that I guessed he had been at 
 his old work, endeavouring to render some one dis- 
 satisfied. He has in some measure succeeded, if I may- 
 judge from the few words I heard you pronounce. Is 
 it not so !" 
 
 Lord Wyndermere acknowledged the fact, and 
 repeated the comments made by Mr. Rhymer on his 
 house. 
 
 " You must not be disconcerted by his remarks," 
 observed Strathern ; " for, if I may be allowed to 
 parody the observation applied to Charles II., I should 
 say that Rhymer is known never to have said a kind 
 thing, or never to have dotie an unkind one. He has 
 come to the assistance of many a man of genius in 
 those vicissitudes to which individuals of that class 
 more than any other are liable, when they depend on 
 literature for support. Towards artists, his good word 
 to would-be patrons, possessed of more gold than taste, 
 has never been wanting ; yet, such is his peculiarity, 
 that, while ready to ser'de^ he is seldom willing to avoid 
 offending, and evidently finds a pleasure in saying dis- 
 agreeable things. Even his compliments, and they 
 are few and far between, have something in them 
 which leave those present when they are paid in doubt 
 whether they do not admit of another and less kind 
 interpretation, although the individual to whom they 
 are addressed may not be aware of it. Nevertheless, 
 on the whole, perhaps the system of Rhymer, if system 
 it be, is preferable to that of the generality of persons, 
 who make it a point to sa^ civil things, and leave 
 undone kind ones." 
 
 " You take the good-natured side of the question.
 
 12 STIcATHERN. 
 
 but SO you always do/' replied Lord Wyndermere. 
 " I confess that I am less induloent/"' 
 
 " I find it more agreeable to do so. My philosophy 
 has taught me that indulgence to the foibles of others, 
 and above all to those which characterize society, 
 brings its own exceeding great reward, in an equa- 
 nimity of humour and cheerfulness, incompatible with 
 a cynical disposition, which discovers evils it cannot 
 hope to amend, and dwells more on the dark than on 
 the bright side of human nature. I know many w^ho 
 can see in Rhymer only the ill-natured satirist, who, 
 by a sneer, or an epigrammatic hon~mot, wounds their 
 vanity, while I endeavour to forget this weakness in 
 him, and remember the good he does^ not the evil he 
 
 " But is there not something egotistical in your 
 philosophy ?" 
 
 ^^ Peut-etre^ mats a quoi bon is that of the cynic? 
 Does it correct the errors it exposes, or does it render 
 the discoverer a better man I Were we all, when 
 detecting defects in our acquaintances, to render 
 justice to the good qualities to which they are fre- 
 quently^ allied, be assured the balance would be fre- 
 quently in favour of the latter, and this conviction, by 
 giving us a better opinion of our species, would ensure 
 us more felicity." 
 
 " Yours, my dear Strathern, must be a happy 
 temperament." 
 
 " I believe you are right, and there is a great deal 
 in this, more, ay much more, tlian people imagine. 
 Half the defects of mankind may be traced to an 
 unhappy temperament, while the very victims to this
 
 STRATHERN. IS 
 
 pervading and baneful influence are themselves un- 
 conscious of its existence. It supplies gall to the pen 
 of the satirist, and venom to the tongue of the wit. 
 May not Rhymer's sarcastic bon-mots and insidious 
 compliments be accounted for by this constitutional 
 malaise, which, continually preying on him, engenders 
 the bitterness which finds so little indulgence, even 
 from those who are aware of his good qualities ? Look 
 at the countenances of those known to be sarcastic, 
 and yoa will observe the yellow tinge, dull eye, 
 and scornful lip which indicate confirmed derange- 
 ment of the biliary system, producing one of the 
 greatest and least-pitied of all the evils to which poor 
 humanity is heir, and which, whether leading, as it 
 frequently does, to insanity, or exhibiting itself in 
 bitter satire, is equally entitled to commiseration.'" 
 " Then you are disposed to think that, 
 
 " ' When poor witlings go astray, 
 Their bile is more in fault than they.' " 
 
 *' Even so ; and I would recommend a skilful 
 physician, in preference to a moralist, for its cure. I 
 never peruse any of the spiteful diatribes of the day, 
 however witty, without a sentiment of pity for its 
 author, the acuteness of whose sufferings, under his 
 peculiar disease, may be judged by the bitterness of 
 his effusions ; and I learn almost to forgive Swift his 
 malice, when I reflect on the physical cause that led 
 to such a moral result. But a truce to philosophy. 
 Let me go over your house, which, from the specimen 
 of it afforded by this library, must, I am persuaded, 
 be arranged with excellent taste."
 
 14 STRATHERN. 
 
 " You mean to indemnify me for the disapproval 
 of Rhymer ; but now that you have initiated me 
 into the mysteries of physical causes and their effects, 
 while pardonino- his censure, I shall be inclined to 
 question the justice of your praise^ and attribute it to 
 the happy temperament which enables you to see 
 everything en heau?'' 
 
 " And so turn the arms with which my philosophy 
 has furnished you against myself? You must not, 
 however, mistake me so far as to imagine that I 
 assign an undue weight to physical causes, or that 1 
 doubt the efficacy of moral influence to subdue their 
 effects, if powerless to eradicate the cause. Observe 
 the beneficent action often following quickly the 
 unkind word, like the spear of Telephus healing the 
 wound it inflicted. Is not this a convincing proof of 
 the moral influence exercised to atone for the phy- 
 sical T 
 
 " You have taught me to feel much more leniently 
 than I was disposed to do towards the failings of the 
 cynical Rhymer, and henceforth, when I encounter 
 persons with a similar taste for saying ill-natured 
 things, I will hope that like him they atone for their 
 words by their deeds. '^ 
 
 " Ill-regulated minds and unhealthy bodies produce 
 more cynics than bad hearts. Nay, wit itself, that 
 ' lightning of the mind,"* frequently tempts its pos- 
 sessors to give utterance to hon-mots bearing the stamp 
 of ill-nature, when that sentiment really had no part 
 in dictating them. The wish to shine in society — 
 and what method of doing this is so easy for a clever 
 person as brilliant sallies and pointed sarcasms ?—
 
 STRATHERN. 15 
 
 originates most of the mechancetes spirituelles^ which, 
 though they cause a wit to be feared in society, render 
 him also courted, and establish for him a certain 
 reputation, which, in my opinion, is neither to be 
 desired nor envied.'"' 
 
 " Yet I have known some men who, though 
 acknowledged wits, seldom, if ever, indulged in the 
 malice supposed to appertain to their craft." 
 
 " So have I also, and this self-control impressed me 
 with a very high opinion in their favour. To resist 
 giving expression to the thousand brilliant mots 
 suggested by a lively imagination called into action by 
 some folly or mistake, committed by the less gifted 
 with whom he associates, proves at once that he who 
 practises this restraint possesses three estimable 
 qualities — a fine understanding, a good heart, and a 
 true politeness." 
 
 " It is much to be wished that such examples among 
 men of wit were more common. It would lessen the 
 jealousy and dislike entertained against them by those 
 who are more calculated to dread than to comprehend 
 their intellectual superiority." 
 
 The striking of the pendule on the mantelpiece 
 warned Strathern that his visit had already passed the 
 usual time allowed for morning calls, and that he had 
 not yet seen more than the library of Lord Wynder- 
 mere. He therefore proposed to his friend, if not incon- 
 venient, to let him see the dining and drawing-rooms, 
 apologizing, at the same time, for having already so 
 unreasonably trespassed on his leisure. 
 
 " Far from it, I assure you," replied Lord Wyn- 
 dermere. " Your visit has given me the greatest
 
 16 STRATHERN. 
 
 pleasure — a pleasure, too, so rarely enjoyed in this 
 noisy, bustling town, where every one seems to be in 
 too great a hurry to pause, to listen, or to converse 
 rationally, that I can duly appreciate a sober hour's 
 chat, exempt from scandal and ill-nature, and only 
 wish I could more frequently count on such a gratifi- 
 cation/'' 
 
 The mlle-a-manger^ divided by a large ante-room 
 from the library, opened on one side into an extensive 
 conservatory, filled with the choicest plants and 
 flowers. The walls were encrusted with exquisite 
 fragments of alto and hasso riliew^ brought from 
 Greece and Italy, and some noble statues by the best 
 of our modern sculptors, formed the sole ornaments. 
 The drawing-rooms, three en suite, were spacious and 
 lofty, and were furnished in the style of Louis XIV. 
 Nothing could be in better keeping. Splendour and 
 taste were happily blended, and the union produced 
 the most charmino^ effect. The admirable collection 
 of pictures which graced the silk-panelled w^alls 
 entirely engrossed Strathern's attention. He could 
 have devoted days instead of hours to their contem- 
 plation, and was pleased to find that Lord Wynder- 
 mere, with all his reserve of manner, was almost as 
 enthusiastic an admirer of fine paintings as himself, 
 and, what is more rare, an excellent judge. Nothing 
 so soon leads to an agreeable familiarity as the dis- 
 covery of a similarity of tastes, and the two friends 
 felt, as they conversed on the comparative merits of 
 the different masters whose works were before them, 
 that they had never really felt draw^n towards each 
 other so much as during their tete-a-tete visit of that
 
 STRATHERN. 17 
 
 day, and they mutually promised that the pleasure 
 they then enjoyed should often be repeated. 
 
 " I see that you, like me, feel that the true way of 
 encouraging art is to live surrounded by the best 
 specimens it can produce,"" said Strathern. 
 
 " Those who fill galleries, which they only enter 
 when they wish to exhibit the treasures they contain, 
 are not, in my opinion, real lovers of the fine arts," 
 observed Lord Wyudermere. " I like to have statues, 
 pictures, and books, continually within my reach. To 
 be able to look from a book to some beautiful picture 
 or fine statue, until we grow to love these possessions 
 as our household gods, is the way to enjoy them, and 
 this I have long learned to do. My collection, too, is 
 endeared to me by being associated in my mind with 
 him who selected the greater portion of it, and who 
 loved it as well as I do — my excellent father 5 and I 
 seldom look at any of these treasures without 
 thanking him who provided and taught me to appre- 
 ciate them."" 
 
 " You must come and see me sans ceremonie,''^ said 
 Strathern, more and more pleased with his host, " and 
 we will examine my collection free from interruption. 
 You have only seen my pictures and statues in a 
 crowd ; indeed I should be considered exigeant^ or, as 
 our countrymen say, a bore, if I asked the generality 
 of people to visit the works of art I possess ; but you, 
 who have proved how well you understand these 
 matters, will not consider me so, and will soon come to 
 Strathern House." 
 
 " We have some liberal patrons of art in England 
 among the nobility and gentry," observed Lord Wyn-
 
 18 STRATHERN. 
 
 dermere, " and still more among what are designated 
 the middle classes, men who, havino^ made laroe for- 
 tunes, have the good taste to expend a considerable 
 portion of their wealth in the acquisition of fine 
 pictures. I have been to see many collections in 
 houses, the names of whose owners I had not heard 
 until named to me by some of our best artists as 
 their most generous patrons, and I have been delighted 
 at witnessing the gems they possess, and their just 
 appreciation of them. I confess to you I have felt 
 proud of England when I visited those collections, 
 and was more than ever ready to admit the justice of 
 a celebrated foreigner's remark, that the middle class 
 in England is, indeed, most estimable, possessing much 
 of the quality of its favourite beverage, beer, having 
 neither the froth attributed to the fashionable portion 
 of the highest class, nor the dregs which appertain to 
 the lower." 
 
 " You are right in agreeing in the opinion, for the 
 more I see of my countrymen, the more am I con- 
 vinced of the peculiar worth of this portion of them. 
 What good men of business they make in the House 
 of Commons ! Their habits of application, and con- 
 stant contact with the world, give them a great ad- 
 vantage over the generality of country gentlemen, and 
 enable them to discern much more quickly the practi- 
 cal from the theoretical, in the affairs brought before 
 their notice. Education has made great strides in 
 England, much greater than those who look only at 
 the surface of society are prepared to admit, and no- 
 where can one be made so fully aware of this gratify- 
 ing fact, as in the houses of commercial and profes-
 
 STRATHERN. 19 
 
 sional men. Look at their families too. The women 
 with cultivated minds, and highly accomplished, 
 fitted not only to enter the most polished society, but 
 to adorn it ; and the young men prepared to distin- 
 guish themselves not merely in the professions to 
 which they have been bred, but to acquit themselves 
 in a more elevated sphere whenever they may be called 
 to it." 
 
 " How different to the citizens of fifty years ago 
 that we read of, when the accumulation of wealth, 
 and sordid habits of economy, were their peculiar and 
 striking characteristics ! " 
 
 " Yes, the march of intellect has been indeed a 
 triumphant one in England 5 and though some portion 
 of our population may have been dazzled by too much 
 light, as those long kept in darkness are apt to be when 
 first it breaks on them, and may not see their way so 
 clearly as could be wished, every day will bring an 
 amelioration of the few disadvantages peculiar to the 
 rapid transitions from a stage of comparative igno- 
 rance to one of civilization and refinement.''' 
 
 " The old adao:e, ' a little learnino^ is a danoerous 
 thing,' is a true one ; the draught has now been so 
 freely dispensed, that the danger to be apprehended 
 from superficial knowledge will soon disappear. Good 
 bye, let me see you soon."
 
 20 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 " The early cultivation of a taste for the Fine Arts is one of 
 the best preventives against the temptations to which so many 
 young men of large fortunes fall a prey, when first emerged 
 from the trammels of a college life ; for he, who finds plea- 
 sure in the contemplation of a fine picture or statue, will be 
 little disposed to enter into the coarse and sensual amusements 
 in which young men with less refined tastes pass their time." 
 
 Havinof introduced our hero to our readers, it is ne- 
 cessary that we should make them acquainted with 
 his birth, parentage, and education. Born of an 
 ancient family, and allied to some of the noblest in 
 the land, it was his misfortune to become an orphan 
 while yet in his childhood, his parents being snatched 
 from life, ere he had attained his ninth year. From 
 them he inherited good looks, abilities of no common 
 order, and a fortune, which though not above half the 
 amount guessed at by the world, always so liberal in 
 giving to the rich, was, nevertheless, quite equal to 
 the support of an expenditure on a scale of almost 
 princely hospitality. The guardian, to whose care 
 Strathern had been bequeathed, was a bachelor of
 
 STRATHERN. 21 
 
 great wealth and acknowledged taste. In his mansion, 
 filled with works of art in painting and sculpture, and 
 adorned with all that could interest the virtuoso, or 
 charm the man of refined taste, his ward had been 
 wont to pass the vacations from school, and had there 
 imbibed that knowledge of art and love for its chef 
 d^ceuvres, which, when implanted in earlj life, remains 
 a distinguishing characteristic through existence, how- 
 ever protracted it may be. The education bestowe^ 
 on Strathern was such as to cultivate to the utmost^ 
 extent the natural abilities with which he was blessed, 
 and he applied himself with a diligence to the acquire- 
 ment of all that could be taught, that won the admira- 
 tion of his contemporaries and the esteem of his tutor. 
 He left Christ Church with a reputation for talent and 
 scholarship, that might have excited the envy of his 
 companions, had not his freedom from vanity and his 
 kindness of heart made him so many friends that 
 envy was lost in esteem, or, if not lost, at least it was 
 silenced by the well-merited popularity he had attained. 
 Perhaps the generosity of Strathern had something 
 to do in o^ainins: him this (general o-ood-will. The allow- 
 ance allotted him b}^ his guardian being on an unu- 
 sually liberal scale, he was enabled to extricate many 
 of his college friends from the embarrassments into 
 which their improvidence not unfrequently plunged 
 them ; and he possessed the rare and difficult to be 
 acquired art of conferring favours in a manner which 
 precluded ingratitude, by converting the obliged 
 debtors into devoted friends, through the tact and 
 delicacy with which he came forward to their assist- 
 ance. The gratitude which his delicate mode of ren-
 
 22 STRATHERN. 
 
 tiering services, still more than tlie value of the act 
 itself, awakened, he attributed to the natural goodness 
 of those he served, not aware that similar or even 
 greater benefits, if conferred in a different mode, 
 would have been forgotten in the humiliation they 
 occasioned ; hence Strathern formed a somewhat 
 erroneous opinion of mankind in general, and invested 
 those of it, in particular, with whom he associated, with 
 many qualities of which they possessed barely the 
 semblance. His was a fine nature, and his defects, 
 if defects they might be denominated, arose from its 
 goodness, like the weeds which spring up in too rich 
 and fertile a soil. 
 
 A minority of twelve years enabled Lord Argentyn, 
 the guardian of Strathern, to invest a large sum in the 
 funds from the yearly revenue of his ward, so that on 
 attaining his twenty-first year our hero found himself 
 master of an estate of fifteen thousand a year, and 
 about two hundred thousand pounds in the funds. 
 Lord Argentyn, in rendering up his trust, endeavoured 
 to impress on the mind of his late ward the prudence 
 of expending this large capital, or at least the greater 
 portion of it, in the purchase of an estate which 
 would increase his importance in the country, and 
 bind him still more to its interests. Such was his 
 influence over the mind of Strathern, that it is more 
 than probable his counsel would have been adopted, 
 had he lived long enough to enforce it ; but, unhappily 
 for his ward, three months after he had attained his 
 majority. Lord Argentjai died suddenly of a com- 
 plaint of the heart, which had baffled the skill of his 
 physicians, lamented by all who knew him, and truly
 
 STRATHERN. 23 
 
 mourned by the young man to whom he had acted as 
 a father. His large fortune, which was unentailed, he 
 bequeathed to a relative, who inherited the title, with 
 a reversion to Strathern, in case the said relative 
 died without a son, a contingency not to be antici- 
 pated, as he was already the father of three healthy 
 boys, and husband to a lady likely to bless him with 
 more branches to the support of the family tree. 
 
 When Strathern looked around on the mansion, 
 in which he had passed so many happy days, and on 
 the objects no less endeared to him by habit and asso- 
 ciation than by their intrinsic value — objects collected 
 at an immense cost from the choicest galleries in 
 Italy — he felt like a banished man, looking for the last 
 time on his home, and the household gods that had 
 endeared it to him. Gladly would he have invested 
 a large portion of his funded property in the purchase 
 of this house, and the glorious works of art that filled 
 it ; but unfortunately, as not only he, but the inheritor 
 of it, considered, it was so strictly entailed, that 
 neither the mansion nor any part of its treasures 
 could be sold ; and the present Lord Argentyn found 
 himself the owner of statues and pictures, which, 
 having no taste for them, he would gladly have 
 exchanged for some of the thousands of Strathern. 
 
 So habituated had our hero become to the sisfht of 
 works of art, that he had grown to think them abso- 
 lutely necessary to his enjoyment. Walls without pic- 
 tures by the best masters, and galleries without statues 
 by the greatest sculptors, seemed to him to be not only 
 unendurable, but a positive reproach to any one who 
 possessed the means of procuring them ; so he deter-
 
 24 STRATHERN. 
 
 mined on first providins^ a house fit for the reception 
 of such treasures, and then visiting- Italy in search 
 of them. No sooner was it known that the rich 
 Mr. Strathern wished to purchase a mansion than 
 innumerable ones were offered for his choice ; but, ac- 
 customed to the spacious and lofty apartments of 
 Argentyn House, with its princely library, picture, 
 and statue gallery, he could find no dwelling to satisfy 
 his taste, and eventually he determined on erecting 
 one which should combine all that he required. 
 
 Behold him, then, ere yet he had numbered twenty- 
 two years, and when most men of his time of life are 
 occupied only in enjoying the present hour, embarked 
 in an undertaking seldom contemplated before a man 
 has reached a much more mature age. His college 
 friends, who flocked around him in London as they 
 had done at Christ Church, first endeavoured to rea- 
 son him out of the folly, as they termed it, of plunging 
 into brick and mortar, repeating to him the hackneyed 
 proverb that " Fools build houses for wise men to live 
 in ;" and having failed to reason him out of his plan, 
 then tried ridicule, that weapon so successful when 
 aimed at the weak, but with no better result, for 
 Strathern was firm. They could not conceive, and so 
 they told him, what business he could have with a 
 better house than any of the numerous ones, with bills 
 posted in the windows, to be seen in all the fashion- 
 able squares, or in Carlton-garden, or terrace ; but 
 Strathern was not a man likely to consult his associates 
 in carrying out plans for his own individual comfort, 
 nor to imagine that they could judge accurately of 
 what was necessary to the gratification of his taste.
 
 STRATHEUN. 25 
 
 " There is a capit?J house to be let in Carlton Gar- 
 dens," observed Lord Alexander Beaulieu, one of 
 Strathern^s soi-dismit friends ; "it belonged to poor 
 Winstanley, who furnished it splendidly, as the auc- 
 tioneers say. How many pleasant nights we had 
 there I Poor Winstanley, what a pity that he ruined 
 himself so soon !" 
 
 " Do you remember what ^oliQAOVi^ petits soupers he 
 used to give after the opera?" observed Sir Henry 
 Devereux. " There one was always certain to find 
 the elite of the corps de ballet — pleasant creatures, and 
 not genant. Poor Winstanley ! Never shall I forget 
 when, waiting for him one day in what was called his 
 library, the fancy came into my head to take down a 
 book, when, judge my surprise, I discovered that what 
 appeared to be a goodly array of richly bound volumes 
 were only boards covered with leather, gilt and let- 
 tered to look like them, and which served as doors to 
 armoires, which held his wardrobe. ' Books ! '' ex- 
 claimed poor Winstanley, when I told him mj disap- 
 pointment, ' what the deuce should I do with books ? 
 I, who seldom can find time to read a newspaper, or 
 dip into the Bacing Calendar.'' I dare say these very 
 same armowes are still in the house, with half a hun- 
 dred capital inventions of poor Win's, who, to do him 
 justice, really understood comfort. You cannot do 
 better, Strathern, than secure that house, and revive 
 t\\Q petits soupers.'''' 
 
 " I should not like the associations such a dwelling 
 would call up," replied Strathern. '-^Petits soupers 
 with the eUte of the corps de ballet — thoKse pleasant 
 creatures, sans g me — are not at all to my taste. Such 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 STRATHERN. 
 
 company is, in my opinion, much more suited to old 
 and blase voluptuaries, no longer capable of appre- 
 ciating the charm of good female society, than to 
 young men not yet palled with less censurable plea- 
 sures, or demoralized by their abuse.'' 
 
 " It is tres mauvais genre^ also,"" observed Lord Ha- 
 zleden, " and only adopted by men proverbial for mau- 
 vais ton and uncultivated minds, who, conscious of 
 their own unworthiness to seek the society of refined 
 women or to conciliate their good opinion, are content 
 to mix with those of the fair sex who are as ignorant 
 as themselves, and Avith whom there is no gmeT 
 
 " But what think you of men who, not content with 
 engaging the women of the cor^ps de ballet to their 
 parties, invite also the men V 
 
 " Est, il possible ? ' tempora, o mores P Can 
 such thino^s be ? " 
 
 " What a prudish fellow you are, Hazleden !"''' said 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu ; " you will make Strathern 
 as squeamish as yourself. But, oiimporte, every man 
 to his fancy, as the old adage says. You must, how- 
 ever, admit that Carlton Gardens and Terrace are 
 good situations — near the theatres, the opera, the 
 clubs." 
 
 " They may be so for those who rely on such places 
 for amusement, and who wish to spare their carriage- 
 horses at night. But I confess that I like only man- 
 sions entre cour etjardin, as at Paris, and not houses 
 all in a row, with their exteriors so exactly similar that 
 one of the owners may be puzzled to decide whether 
 he is knockino- at his own door or at that of his neiirh- 
 hour, Mr. Tomkins. Then I dislike the sound of the
 
 STRATHERN. 27 
 
 rumbling of omnibuses and stage-coaches from Pall 
 Mall, and the sight of flowers and plants begrimed 
 with soot and smoke in the gardens which front the 
 said houses. I also dislike being awoke at early morn 
 by the lowing of the cows while being milked, the cries 
 of the unhealthy, town-pent children, sent to partake 
 their produce, the loud voices of their gossiping nurse- 
 maids, and the still louder objurgations of the keepers 
 of the said cows. Then look at the moving scene, daily, 
 hourly presented, from the windows of these houses. 
 Can any thing be less agreeable ? Crowds of pedes- 
 trians always of the lowest description ; dirty children, 
 with slip-shod maidens, more occupied in flirtations 
 with soldiers or servants out of place, than in looking 
 after the poor little creatures committed to their 
 charge; broken-down tradesmen and suspicious-look- 
 ing individuals, on whom the police keep a sharp look- 
 out, bestride the benches, ruminating on their cares, 
 or spelhng over some one of the vile papers which in- 
 culcate vengeance for them. Add to the pleasure of 
 all this the never-ceasing effluvia of bad tobacco with 
 which the atmosphere is impregnated, and you must 
 admit that the situation you have recommended is any 
 thino: but asrreeable. I have omitted noticins: amonsr 
 the advantage of houses in a row, hearing the young 
 ladies of your next neighbours practising the harp and 
 pianoforte, and squalling under the tuition of a singing 
 master, until you are almost tempted to wish that 
 music was an unknown science. Oh, no ! defend me 
 from inhabitino^ one of these houses, in which hand- 
 some furniture looks as much out of its element as in 
 a watering-place." 
 
 c2
 
 28 STRATHERN. 
 
 It was some time ere Strathern found a site which 
 he deemed worthy of erecting a mansion on. Plea- 
 sure-grounds and a garden he considered to be indis- 
 pensable adjuncts to his dwelling, and it was no easy- 
 task to find space for these in a metropolis so densely 
 populated as London. At length he discovered and 
 became the purchaser of ten or twelve acres of land 
 near Knightsbridge, still possessing many fine old 
 trees, the remains of former park grounds, ere London 
 had gone out of town, and when what has now almost 
 ceased to be suburbs, owing to the extension of new 
 terraces, squares, and crescents, was occupied by 
 stately and cumbrous mansions, standing in their own 
 well-timbered lawns, and surrounded by thick shrub- 
 beries. He next consulted one of the best architects 
 of the day, and, having explained his wishes to him, 
 arrano^ed for their beino; carried into execution. There 
 was only one thing left unsettled ; and that was pre- 
 cisely what older and wiser persons would have thought 
 most important, namely, the sum to be expended. 
 While dwelling on the necessity of spacious drawing- 
 rooms, noble library, picture and statue-galleries, sum- 
 mer and winter salles a manger, lofty conservatories, 
 salle de hal, &c., with a stately peristyle, which should 
 give grandeur to the house and afford shelter to its 
 visiters, and a vestibule, in which even the most 
 dainty dame might pause to admire its proportions 
 while uncloaking, without a risk of cold or discomfort, 
 Strathern omitted to demand what the probable ex- 
 pense of such a building might be, and the still more 
 prudent plan of contracting for it never entered his 
 head. The architect saw that he had an unwary and
 
 STRATHERN. 29 
 
 liberal employer to deal with ; and so few of this 
 description are now to be met, that he determined to 
 profit by the chance thrown in his way. An elevation 
 and ground-plan were speedily submitted for Strathern's 
 approval ; every possible expedition in the erection 
 and completion was promised, and, en attendant, our 
 hero determined to pass a year or two on the Con- 
 tinent while his future abode was building. 
 
 Before the commencement of autumn, the period he 
 had fixed for his departure, he found himself, without 
 an effort on his part, thrown into the vortex of fashion- 
 able life — that vortex, which, once entered, it is so 
 difficult to escape from. Invitations poured in on him 
 daily for dejeuners dansants,. dinners, balls, concerts, 
 and parties, in such profusion, that to attend even 
 half the number would have been a fatiguing opera- 
 tion ; and those he did go to so exactly resembled 
 each other, that one might have served as a specimen 
 of all. There might be seen the same kind of deco- 
 rations, the same style of houses, the same crowd of 
 faces, Avearing the same expression of ennui, and the 
 same viands and refreshments. It struck him with 
 sui-prise, as it has done many others new to London 
 fashionable life, that such numbers could be drawn 
 too-ether nioht after nisrht to share in the same inane 
 round of amusements, which each individual of the 
 circle declared to be tiresome and ennuyeux. The 
 guests invited to these fetes were always thrice more 
 than the houses could contain, the consequences of 
 which were that the crowd and heat were intolerable, 
 and the mingled oclours of flowers and perfumed hand- 
 kerchiefs, with other less agreeable ones, insupport-
 
 so STKATHERN. 
 
 able. The result of all this was, that ladies, however 
 cold on other occasions, were on these in the melting- 
 mood — at least if their flushed cheeks and humid 
 foreheads might be received as evidence. The old 
 looked as if escaped from a vapour-bath, their bright- 
 coloured turbans and toques offering a striking con- 
 trast to the faces they were meant to adorn ; the 
 middle-aged appeared ten years older, and the young 
 and fair faded, as delicate exotic plants when removed 
 from a hothouse into a less genial air. Then, to 
 arrive at these " splendid fetes^'' as the newspapers 
 termed them, was a service of danger ; for in the street 
 or square in which they were given so many vehicles 
 got blocked in together, that, in spite of the utmost 
 efforts of the police to preserve order, many were the 
 ladies who, arrayed in their brilliant dresses and 
 sparkling in diamonds, had to sit in their carriages 
 for hours, compelled to listen to the blasphemy and 
 vituperation of contending coachmen, the threats and 
 entreaties of the police, mingled with the prancing of 
 horses and the occasional crashing of panels. At the 
 balls there was never half sufficient space for dancing, 
 while the intense heat and oppression of the atmo- 
 sphere rendered that exercise rather a painful exertion 
 than an agreeable recreation. The parties where no 
 dancing took place were equally numerously attended, 
 and what the object of thus congregating could be, 
 Strathern could not discover. It evidently was not 
 conversation, for " How hot it is !" " What a dread- 
 ful crowd !'" " And how I wish I could get away !" 
 were the words he heard continually uttered around. 
 The giving concerts seemed to him still more incom-
 
 STRATHERN. 31 
 
 prehensible. Why persons should pay large sums to 
 celebrated singers to go through the same music to 
 which all present had repeatedly listened at the Opera, 
 where the mise en scene added attraction to it, and 
 where it was so infinitely better performed, did sur- 
 prise him — and the more so, when he noticed how few 
 could distinctly hear the sweet sounds, owing to the 
 only half-suppressed conversations carrying on in 
 various parts of the apartment, and how still fewer 
 cared about the music, as was evidenced by the wea- 
 ried countenances of some and the whispering of others. 
 The never-ending dinners he found equally irksome. 
 Tables covered with massive plate, the same gilded 
 plateaux and epergnes filled with flowers, the same 
 gilded ice-pails and candelabra, the same routine of 
 soups and fishes replaced by French relews and entrees, 
 the same Jiors d''wiivres and the buj-et charged with 
 similar pieces de resistances, the same third course of 
 jibier, entremets, sucreries, &lg., followed by the usual 
 abundance of hothouse fruit, might be found at every 
 dinner. The same guests, too, might generally be 
 seen ; the same low-toned, gentle, inane attempts at 
 conversation were carried on ; the same number of 
 servants out of liveries and in richly-laced ones, with 
 imperturbable countenances, glided noiselessly around 
 the table ; and the same expression of weariness and 
 ennui sate on the countenances of the host, hostess, 
 and guests. 
 
 *' And this is called society !" said Strathern to 
 himself. " Better, far better, would solitude be, 
 where, freed from the puerile shackles imposed by this 
 heartless and artificial mode of life, one could indulge
 
 32 STRATIIERN. 
 
 the love of rural scenery, and hold communion with 
 those choice spirits whose lucubrations, too seldom re- 
 sorted to, fill the shelves of our libraries." 
 
 In the circles in wdiich Strathern found himself, he 
 observed with surprise that the most perfect equality 
 reigned between the spirituel and the dull, the wise 
 and the foolish, at least as far as conversation went. 
 The same conventional tone of reserve and inanity was 
 preserved, and any deviation from it was considered a 
 violation of the good breeding which persons of fashion 
 consider to consist in a chilliness of manner and a 
 polished style of expression, in uttering in a low voice 
 insipid comments on the news of the day, the places of 
 public amusement, la pluie, ou le beau temps. Clever 
 men and women seemed afraid to elevate their voices, 
 or at least to give vent to their thoughts, lest they 
 should pass the frozen limit, the cordon sanitaire^ 
 established by the despot fashion to confine all within 
 its circle ; and the dull and foolish, forming the ma- 
 jority in all societies, were pleased to see the clever 
 and witty reduced to the same level as themselves. 
 Strathern was sometimes amused by observing when a 
 foreigner of distinction broke the uniformity of these 
 stupid dinners, by introducing, in his natural tone of 
 voice, the topics which furnish general conversation on 
 the Continent, the alarm expressed in the counte- 
 nances of the host, hostess, and their other visiters. 
 They looked on the stranger almost as a barbarian ; 
 and while he, wishing to dispel the dulness around 
 him, courageously, thouoh not with so heroic a motive, 
 like another Quintus Curtius, threw himself into the 
 gulph of silence, they, shocked and disgusted at what
 
 STRATHERN. So 
 
 they termed his manque de hienseance^ looked at each 
 other in horror, and inwardly rejoiced that they were 
 not like him. Strathern was often reminded at these 
 luxurious dinners of the Frenchman's remark, that 
 " Les Anglais ont un grand talent pour le silence r 
 while, perfectly aware that many were those among 
 the party who could talk well on all subjects, yet such 
 was the tyranny of custom established by fashion, that 
 few dared to break through its boundaries. This 
 macadamizing of manners, if not of minds, had a most 
 petrifying effect on society. It checked the brilliant 
 sally, the playful repartee, and the piquant anecdotes, 
 which 2:ive it a zest and a charm, and threw a o-loom 
 over it, unknown in the social circles in other lands, 
 where each individual endeavours to contribute to the 
 agreeability of the party in which he finds himself. 
 To Lord Wyndermere alone did Strathern disclose 
 the ennui he experienced at the fetes w^here he was so 
 often a guest. 
 
 "I, too, have felt all that you describe," said that 
 nobleman ; " but beware, my dear friend, how you 
 reveal it. A freemason, who betrayed the mysteries 
 of his craft, would be less severely treated than he 
 who confesses the overpowering dulness of London 
 fashionable society, and which constitutes its chief 
 characteristic. If each of its members were as frank 
 as you are, who would wish to enter its pale ? and the 
 desire to enter, and the difficulties opposed by those 
 who wish to enhance the imaginary favour of opening 
 its portals, would be at an end. We all, who are 
 initiated, know that we are filled by ennui at the par- 
 ties we frequent, but we keep the secret for the plea- 
 
 c 5
 
 34 STRATHERN. 
 
 sure — a spiteful one, I own — of seeing others anxious 
 to become sharers of our supposed enjoyments. What 
 but the sense of being possessed by this demon fills 
 our clubs, and has given rise to the filthy and unbear- 
 able habit of smoking ? a habit which so unblushingly 
 betrays a disregard to the comfort of women, by in- 
 fectino; them with the odour with which our clothes 
 are impregnated." 
 
 " How ladies can submit to receive into their society 
 men, who, by this filthy and disgusting habit, render 
 themselves totally unfit for it, has ever been to me a 
 matter of utter surprise, and I confess that in my 
 opinion there never was a condescension on their part 
 more ill-judged. We soon learn to undervalue those 
 who do not make us feel that they respect themselves ; 
 and, when women betray such a desire for our society 
 as to be content to receive us, breathing, not of Araby 
 the blest, but of cigars, we may prove ungrateful 
 enough to think that we cannot be done w^ithout, and 
 so dictate laws to those who ought to frame them for 
 us. For myself, I feel ashamed for my sex, when I 
 see men approaching ladies in soirees and balls, their 
 clothes sending forth an odour that but too plainly 
 discloses how recently they had been indulging in the 
 abomination of smoking ; and yet these delicate crea- 
 tures, ready to 
 
 " die of a rose in aromatic pain," 
 
 evince no symptom, whatever they may feel, of the dis- 
 gust which so vile an efiluvium is calculated to excite." 
 "As long as women are taught to think that to 
 form a ^ood marriao^e is the end and aim of their lives.
 
 STRATHERN. 35 
 
 they will, to accomplish this object, consent to tolerate 
 habits in men from which they naturally recoil in dis- 
 gust, and will carefully conceal their distaste, lest it 
 should militate against the sole project they have in 
 view — a orood settlement for life." 
 
 " Poor girls ! they are much more to be pitied than 
 blamed. This husband-hunting system is the result 
 of the unequal distribution of fortune in the families of 
 the rich and noble in England. Young women with 
 us, of high birth, and nurtured in luxury, are so scan- 
 tily portioned, that, should they not succeed in form- 
 ing eligible marriages, no resource awaits them but to 
 wed some parvenu^ with no other recommendation than 
 his wealth, or to wear out their lives as dependants in 
 the establishments of their elder brothers or married 
 sisters, where they are not always certain to be treated 
 with that kindness to which their helpless position has 
 so strong a claim. The wife of the lordly brother is 
 seldom found to be amicably disposed towards his de- 
 pendant sisters ; nor is the husband of a sister, in gene- 
 ral, more partial to their becoming fixtures in his house. 
 What, then, can be more dreaded by young women than 
 the chance of such a fate as I have described l and, 
 actuated by the fear of it, can it be wondered at that 
 they submit to many innovations in les bienseances on 
 the part of men, which, under other circumstances, 
 they would never tolerate V 
 
 " I agree with you most fully, and heartily wish 
 that a provision sufficiently large to support unmarried 
 women in comfort and independence should be secured 
 by fathers to their daughters, though at the risk of leav- 
 ing the heir presumptive a few thousands a-year less.'*
 
 36 STRATIIERN. 
 
 " Were this plan adopted, women would resume the 
 natural good taste and decent dignity which their 
 dependant position so often compels them to abdicate, 
 and men would be obliged to observe that respectful 
 deference towards them to which they are entitled.*" 
 
 " This would be, indeed, a most desirable change, and 
 one devoutly to be wished for ; but, with estates so 
 strictly entailed on eldest sons, as English ones gene- 
 rally are, and with provisions so limited for younger 
 children, I fear there is little chance of its adoption, 
 unless fathers and mothers show more inclination than 
 the greater part of them are at present disposed to do 
 to retrench their heavy expenditures, in order to lay 
 by from their incomes wherewithal to add to the too 
 scanty portions allotted to their daughters." 
 
 " And this, I fear, they are too selfish to do, even if 
 they had the power ; for the luxurious habits, over- 
 grown establishments, and carelessness in checking the 
 impositions practised on them, so characteristic of the 
 aristocracy of our time, have involved the greater num- 
 ber of them in pecuniary difficulties which leave them 
 only barely sufficient, if even that, to meet the yearly 
 demands on their often anticipated resources."" 
 
 " It is, in truth, a sad state of things, and leaves one 
 little hope of seeing women placed in a state of com- 
 petence that would save them from the humiliating 
 necessity of husband-hunting, with all the mortifica- 
 tions inseparable from such a pursuit. I love to see 
 that greatly vilified and much-enduring class of spin- 
 sters denominated old maids blessed with the means 
 of securing a home, however modest a one it may be, 
 for their old age, instead of living in dependance on a
 
 STRATHERN. 37 
 
 brother or married sister, performing many of the 
 duties of a menial without receiving wages or thanks. 
 See these poor women, after a youth passed in the 
 splendid residences of their parents and in a round of 
 (gaiety, having failed to secure husbands, and their good 
 looks faded, ' left to wither on the virgin stem,' with a 
 stipend wholly inadequate to provide any of the com- 
 forts of life, deemed incumbrances by those on whom 
 they depend, and painfully awake to the disagreeable- 
 ness of their position ; the gravity and pensiveness it 
 is so well calculated to awaken draws on them the im- 
 putation of being ' ill-humoured old maids,' ' tiresome 
 old spinsters,' and all the various other offensive epi- 
 thets applied by the unthinking and unfeeling to those 
 whom they ought to commiserate rather than deride." 
 " Yes, there are few classes more deserving esteem 
 than that denominated old maids. What kind and 
 tender nurses to the sick, what affectionate and sym- 
 pathising companions to the sorrowful, do the maiden 
 aunts to be found in families make ! They are the 
 never-failing resource of all who require their aid, and 
 the providence of nephews and nieces, down to the 
 second and third generation, in all the tribulations 
 peculiar to the imprudence of youth. They are the 
 conscientious guardians to w^iom orphan girls can be 
 confided by dying mothers, whose last hours are soothed 
 by the certainty of how faithfully their injunctions will 
 be fulfilled. They are the sedate chaperons to supply 
 a mother's place, when pleasure or business call that 
 parent from her daughters ; in short, they are, in my 
 opinion, a comfort in every family, and should be treated 
 v/itli marked distinction."
 
 38 STRATHERN. 
 
 " We are not deficient in humanity, Heaven knows, 
 in England ; we have asylums and funds to meet many 
 cases of distress and hardship. Why should we not 
 subscribe a sum, to be disposed of in adding, according 
 as the case may require it, to the narrow incomes of 
 unmarried women, such as we have described, the fund 
 to be vested in proper hands, and the yearly stipend 
 to be paid without subjecting those who require it to 
 the painful necessity of an application from which their 
 delicacy and pride would revolt V 
 
 "An excellent notion, I declare, and one to which I 
 will readily give my support to carry into effect.^"* 
 
 " We will prove that, though the age of chivalry is 
 gone by, and that men no longer go about proclaiming 
 the superiority of the ladies of their love, and offering, 
 for their dear sakes, to redress the wrongs of the fair 
 sex, we are ready to provide for the comfort of a portion 
 of them peculiarly entitled to our respect, and for doing 
 which no selfish motive can be attributed to us.'"
 
 STRATHERN. 89 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In foreign lands 'tis wise that man should roam, 
 That he may learn to prize the more his home, 
 And conquer prejudice, besetting sin 
 Of those content to live for aye pent in 
 Their native land, by reading only taught 
 To know the marvels master-minds have wrought, 
 Or judge of other men, their morals, laws, 
 And customs, tracing still effect from cause. 
 
 The London season closed, Strathern went to Paris, 
 where he entered into the same round of gaieties which 
 tempt those who visit it for the first time ; but they 
 soon palled on his taste, and he left without regret the 
 gay capital, for the south of France and Italy, where 
 he expected and found more to excite his interest and 
 occupy his mind. At Rome, where amongst the Eng- 
 lish an exaggerated report of his wealth had preceded 
 him, Strathern found himself an object of peculiar in- 
 terest to mothers and aunts with marriageable daugh- 
 ters and nieces. Nor, sooth to say, did these young- 
 ladies themselves betray any symptoms of disinclina- 
 tion to cultivate an acquaintance with a young and 
 very good-looking man, who, even without one quarter 
 of the fortune attributed to him, they would have
 
 40 STRATHERN. 
 
 thought, if not a desirable partner for life, at least a 
 very agreeable one for a ball. His love of the fine arts, 
 and the patronage he bestowed on them, being known, 
 it became the fashion for his fair countrywomen to 
 frequent the studios where orders were executing for 
 Strathern, whose taste was extolled, and wiiose libe- 
 rality was the theme of every tongue. Albums were 
 shown to him and sketches exhibited by lovely ama- 
 teurs, who partook, or asserted they did, his enthusiasm 
 for art ; and the sympathy with his tastes which he 
 met in nearly all the young ladies of his acquaintance, 
 and the reality of which he never questioned, contri- 
 buted to render their society peculiarly pleasant. He 
 rode, walked, or danced with them all by turn ; but, 
 though he rendered justice to their attractions, he felt 
 no disposition to appropriate any of these fair and ami- 
 able creatures, and no one among them had any cause 
 for jealousy of her contemporaries for any partiality on 
 his part. 
 
 " You are a happy man, Strathern," said Lord 
 Alexander Beaulieu, who had lately arrived at Kome, 
 as they strolled on the Monte Pincio together ; " you 
 have all the pretty girls here setting their caps at you, 
 and all their mammas acting the civil. Such are the 
 advantages of a large fortune ; while a poor younger 
 brother like me is only noticed by the daughter of 
 some citizen 'of credit and renown,' who is tickled by 
 the empty title attached to my name, or some girl of 
 our own set, for the nonce in want of a partner to dance 
 with." 
 
 "And you call me a happy man, because, in the 
 belief that I am rich, these young ladies distinguish
 
 STRATHERN. 41 
 
 me with tlieir smiles ! How can you suppose that 
 such distinction can have the least value for me ? I 
 hope I am not a vain man ; nevertheless, I acknow- 
 ledge that I can never find pleasure in any preference 
 accorded to me in right of my fortune, and that even 
 the fairest and most captivating woman would find no 
 favour in my eyes, or susceptible place in my heart, 
 if I believed her to be influenced by mercenary mo- 
 tives." 
 
 '' But how, with your wealth, can you ever be assured 
 that the w^oman you select for your wife is not influ- 
 enced by such motives ?" 
 
 " Really, Beaulieu, you seem determined to humi- 
 liate me. Am I, then, so ill-looking and stupid that 
 I may not look forward to that which ail men hope to 
 find, namely, some one w^oman who will like me for 
 myself, and not for my fortune V 
 
 " My dear fellow, no one thinks more highly of your 
 various agremens^ bodily and mental, than I do ; but 
 what I meant is, that you rich men, who possess so 
 many and such sterling advantages over us poor ones, 
 have left us one which should console us, and that is 
 the certainty that, when we are preferred, we owe it 
 wholly to self, and not to the adventitious aid of gold."' 
 
 " Yet you called me a happy man a few minutes 
 ago ! Why, the very belief you have endeavoured to 
 inculcate would render me quite the reverse, by making 
 me a misanthrope/' 
 
 " Hah, hah, hah ! A misanthrope, my dear Stra- 
 thern — you a misanthrope ! The very notion sets me 
 laughing. There is no dread of that while you have 
 as many thousands a-year as you are said to possess,
 
 42 STRATHERN. 
 
 even if you had not the personal and mental qualifica- 
 tions which no one can deny you." 
 
 " You seem to be disposed to make the amende ho- 
 norable^ Beaulieu, for your previously expressed doubts 
 of men of fortune having any chance of being wedded 
 for their personal merits, by complimenting me on 
 mine." 
 
 " You know, or ought to know, Strathern, that I 
 never pay compliments, not even to those who most 
 exact such salves to their wounded vanity — women 
 who ha'ce heen^ but no longer are, beauties, and rich 
 old female relatives, with hoarded wealth to leave behind 
 them to whoever can most skilfully administer the gen- 
 tle doses of flattery, so essential to soothe the irritation 
 produced by age and its infirmities." 
 
 " I was not aware of your stubborn virtue on this 
 point, I confess, Beauleau," said Strathern, smiling, 
 " but I shall henceforth note it carefully down in the 
 catalogue of your commendable qualities. But to 
 resume : so you think rich men cannot become misan- 
 thropes f 
 
 " Such, certainly, is my opinion, and it is founded 
 on the impossibility of their ever seeing the world in 
 its true unvarnished colours. Every object is beheld 
 by them through the medium of their own prosperity. 
 They know nothing of the contumely that awaits on 
 poverty, and the different aspects assumed towards 
 those not gifted with the goods of fortune, and to the 
 wealthy. Look, for example, on the different recep- 
 tion given in society to an elder or younger brother of 
 a noble family. The heir presumptive is courted and 
 caressed on every side. He is invited everywhere ;
 
 STRATHERN. 48 
 
 mothers and daughters smile at his approach, and 
 fathers promise him the shooting of their best pre- 
 serves — while his brothers are, poor devils ! left on the 
 pam of London nine months of the year, to dine at 
 their clubs, and are expected to be grateful if asked 
 now and then to a country-house, where they are 
 merely tolerated, and not even that if they presume 
 to pay attention to any of the young unmarried ladies, 
 for whom mammas have always higher views.'' 
 
 " But do you think that rich men are exempted 
 from seeing much of the baseness of mankind, though 
 preserved from the slights and insolence which you 
 say await younger brothers ? Can they, unless more 
 short-sighted than men of common sense in society 
 generally are, be ignorant of the interested and selfish 
 motives of many of those who flock around them with 
 professions of friendship, and the hoUowness of the 
 smiles that welcome their presence T 
 
 " Peut-etre they are not, but their knowledge of all 
 this cannot bring the painful and humiliating feelings 
 experienced by the well-born and poor, under the an- 
 noyances to which they are exposed. A rich man can 
 smile with self-complacency when he detects the selfish 
 motives which actuate those who flatter and fawn on 
 him, while he who, because he is known not to be rich, 
 instead of adulation and attention, meets only neglect 
 or rudeness, is stung into anger by the omission of 
 those marks of courtesy at which the wealthy smile." 
 
 A few days after this conversation, Strathern ob- 
 served a striking change in the manner of the youth- 
 ful portion of his fair countrywomen at Rome. Each, 
 when an opportunity offered, spoke of the pleasure of
 
 44 STRATHERN. 
 
 retirement as far superior to the frivolous gaiety and 
 feverish excitement of a town Hfe, and dwelt on the 
 advantages of competency over great possessions, 
 which, if they furnished means for splendour, entailed, 
 also, cares and duties from which those with humbler 
 fortunes were exempt ; in short, " a change had come 
 o'er the spirit of their dreams," and those who had 
 not previously known them might have been led to 
 imagine that not only were their desires for the gauds 
 of fortune most moderate, but that they had a positive 
 objection to aught above a moderate competency. This 
 sudden change had been effected by Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu havino; disclosed to them the substance of 
 Stratheni"'s conversation with him. Like most re- 
 ported conversations, it had lost nothing in the repe- 
 tition, for that young scion of nobility, who was by 
 no means so remarkable for a strict adherence to truth 
 as for garrulity, had told them that his friend Strathern 
 w^as so vain a man that he had determined never to 
 marry unless he could find a woman whose contempt 
 of riches would offer a guarantee of his being preferred 
 for himself alone, and not for his worldly goods and 
 possessions. 
 
 Strathern smiled at the assumed disinterestedness 
 of his fair young countrywomen, which, however, pro- 
 duced no effect on his stubborn heart. Nevertheless, 
 the insight which it gave him of the artifices to which 
 the high-born can condescend, in order to forward any 
 scheme they may form, made a deep impression on his 
 mind, and opened it to the first assault that suspicion 
 — that unworthy sentiment, to be deprecated even in 
 the old, but so detestable in the young — had succeeded
 
 STRATHERN. 45 
 
 in making on it. Had Stratheni any of the vanity 
 of which his soi-disant friend, Lord Alexander Beau- 
 lieu, accused him, he would have been less prone to 
 question the motives of the attentions which were so 
 liberally showered on him ; but his exemption from 
 this natural weakness exposed him to the greater evil, 
 suspicion, as the absence of a harmless flower may 
 sometimes be filled up by a noxious weed. A casuist 
 might inquire whether the vanity so generally im- 
 planted in the human breast may not be intended for 
 some good purpose, and only tend to render its pos- 
 sessor ridiculous when not kept in due bounds. How 
 many great, how many good actions have been achieved 
 by this passion, from the days of Alexander the Great 
 down to our own ! To gratify it, how many thou- 
 sands and tens of thousands have been expended, fur- 
 nishing employment for millions ! How many charity 
 lists has it filled up — how many benefactions bestowed ! 
 What like vanity renders us content with ourselves, 
 and, consequently, disposed to be content with others? 
 It is a philanthropic passion, disposing us to good and 
 liberal deeds, and merits more than half the encomiums 
 unjustly bestowed on generosity. In short, I should 
 say 
 
 " The man who has not vanity (not music) in his soul 
 Is fit for treason, stratagem, and spoil ;" 
 
 for he is a discontented man, and out of such are dark 
 misanthropes made. 
 
 Well pleased was Strathern to wander from gallery 
 to gallery at Rome, sunning himself from the glowing 
 wails filled with the works of the great masters.
 
 46 STRATHERN. 
 
 What trains of thought were engendered by these 
 chef-d'' odutres^ painted bj hands long mouldered in the 
 grave, and conceived by heads into which the Almiglity 
 had infused a spark of his own divine power — that of 
 creatine- ! When his mind was imbued, and his heart 
 warmed by these glorious works, he pined for com- 
 panionship with some one of kindred taste, to whom 
 he could impart the feelings they awakened, and who 
 would share without a sneer his enthusiastic admira- 
 tion. Often did his memory revert to his departed 
 friend Lord Argentyn, who, like him, had often loi- 
 tered in the haunts in which he now passed most of 
 his hours, and who had first taught him to appreciate 
 art. No such companionship, however, was then to 
 be found at Rome, which, though filled with crowds of 
 his countrymen and women, in search of the Proteus, 
 pleasure, among many of whom pretenders to taste 
 and connoisseurship were not rare, few, if any, really 
 understood the merits of the pictures and statues they 
 professed to admire, and some unconscious hetue fre- 
 quently exposed not only their ignorance, but the 
 hoUowness of the spurious enthusiasm they afiected. 
 It is more easy to prate about art than to comprehend 
 it, and many were those who believed they were pro- 
 foundly versed in its mysteries, while acting more as 
 appraisers than real admirers of its treasures. Some 
 of these would-be connoisseurs would prose for hours, 
 not on the relative merit, but the comparative value of 
 pictures, a tact which they had acquired by listening 
 to the opinions of acknowledged judges, and by adding 
 them up as a salesman does a bill, until they had pro- 
 duced a specified valuation, when, vain of this ima-
 
 STRATHERN. 47 
 
 gined knowleds^e in an art, the very rudiments of 
 which they had neither acquired nor could reason on, 
 they moved pompously about from gallery to gallery, 
 passing off their pretended savoir en mrtu on those too 
 ignorant to detect its fallacy. Often did these sapient 
 gentlemen, who beset the Roman palaces, with spec- 
 tacles on nose or glass in hand, offer their services to 
 enlighten Strathern, by pointing out, not the pictures 
 most worthy of admiration, but those most likely to 
 fetch a large price, if, as they termed it, brought into 
 the market — always bearing in mind the English^ and 
 not the continental mart. He would turn from them 
 with a sentiment akin to indignation when a Ruysdael, 
 with its cold gray sky, gloomy trees, and ruined mill, 
 was by them pronounced to be more valuable than a 
 Raphael or a Francesco Francia, a Cuyp than an 
 Andrea del Sarto, and a Wouvermans, with his never- 
 failing white horse, to a Domenichino, merely because 
 the Dutch school is preferred by the great mass of 
 English buyers, a preference that argues little for 
 their taste. But, while visiting and studying the 
 works of the old masters in painting and sculpture, 
 Strathern neglected not those of the modern, nor, 
 above all, those of his countrymen, and glad and proud 
 was he to find that he could conscientiously award 
 them the palm of excellence. He commanded groups 
 from Gibson, Westmacott, and Wyatt, and pictures 
 from Williams ; and the partage of a heritage between 
 many branches of the family of a lately-deceased 
 Roman prince having occasioned a sale — a rare event 
 in a country where collections are scarcely ever broken 
 up or sold — he purchased some of the chef d? odwcres of
 
 48 STRATHERN. 
 
 Italian art, for the possession of which he had longed, 
 but doubted the possibility of obtaining. Luckily for 
 him, the coffers of his Holiness the Pope happened at 
 that epoch to be unusually empty, which precluded 
 his putting an embargo on the treasures so jealously 
 watched over by the Pontiffs, by paying the value to 
 the inheritor, and transferring them to the Vatican. 
 
 " Have you seen the new English beauty just 
 arrived V said Lord Alexander Beaulieu to Strathern, 
 as they met one day at the Vatican. " By Jove, she 
 is perfection ! Such a complexion ! After all, there 
 is nothing to be compared with the lilies and roses of 
 England. The pale olive of Italian beauties, and 
 somewhat opaque hues of the French, look to great 
 disadvantao:e near them. But is not that our old 
 college chum, Fitzwarren I Yes, positively it is ; and 
 here he comes." 
 
 " Hallo, my hearties, well met ! Only came last 
 night. Heard you were here — went off in search of 
 you 5 was told I should probably find you at the 
 Vatican, so here I am ;"' and Lord Fitzwarren shook 
 his two friends by the hands, with a warmth and good 
 will that testified his satisfaction at their meeting. Of 
 the middle size, with a fat jolly face, and of consider- 
 able embonpoint, Lord Fitzwarren was the picture of 
 good humour. His hair, and he had an immense quan- 
 tity, was scarcely a shade darker than his very fair 
 complexion, and, much addicted to smile at the jokes 
 of others, and still more at his own, he was continually 
 exposing a set of teeth so peculiarly fine as to incur 
 the belief in those who knew him not, that it was to 
 display tliem that he was always laughing.
 
 STRATIIERN. 49 
 
 " Who would have dreamt of seeing you here V 
 observed Lord Alexander Beaulieu. " I really could 
 hardly believe my eyes when I first saw you enter.'^ 
 
 " Why, to say the truth, I can scarcely believe that 
 I am indeed at Rome, for you know I never cared anv 
 more about its ruins, pictures, and statues than about 
 its ancient history, which, for the life of me, I never 
 could take any interest in. Not like you, Strathern, 
 who were always a bookworm ; but, the fact is, Lon- 
 don had got dull and empty. My favourite hunter, 
 Nimrod — you remember Nimrod — one of the best 
 jumpers that ever cleared a fence, had thrown out a 
 spavin ; my stupid groom mismanaged the case, and 
 the veterinary surgeon was called in too late. It en- 
 rages one to think of it — I lost the poor animal ; never 
 shall I find such another. Gave eight hundred for him 
 to Evandale, who could not ride him, and I would not 
 have parted with him for thrice that sum. Sold off 
 my stud in a pet, for doing which half England pro- 
 nounced me to be ruined. Rather hard that one cannot 
 sell one^s horses in order to buy better next year, or part 
 with one's yacht to build a larger, but that one is 
 immediately declared to be cleaned out. But if one 
 determines to go abroad for a few months, then the 
 outcry becomes general, and every tradesman to whom 
 you may happen to owe a guinea takes alarm and duns 
 you. You pay them, but that does not silence the 
 report j they assert that you must be ruined, because, 
 \mless you were, you could not prefer a clear sky and 
 good climate to our cloudy one and eight months' win- 
 ter fogs. Devilish provoking, let me tell you, to be com- 
 pelled to keep up the same pursuits and the same ex- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 STRATHERN. 
 
 penditure wlien you are tired of the first, and are grown 
 too prudent to throw away your money on things that 
 no longer please you. Yet this you must do in Eng- 
 land, or pass for being hard up, as they call it, or quite 
 dished, and so be avoided by your acquaintance in 
 general, and jowx friends in particular^ from the dread 
 of your requiring their assistance.'"* 
 
 Strathern and Lord Alexander Beaulieu could not 
 resist smiling at the unusually angry expression of 
 Lord Fitzwarren^s countenance, while they acknow- 
 ledofed that there was but too much truth in what he 
 said. 
 
 " You may laugh, my good fellows,"" exclaimed he, 
 " but I can tell you that, while you are both amusing 
 yourselves, very much to your satisfaction, I dare say, 
 here, half England is either censuring or deploring the 
 embarrassments which are supposed to have driven you 
 to this fair and pleasant clime. People wonder how 
 you^ especially, Strathern, who came into forty thou- 
 sand a year, and three hundred thousand pounds in 
 the funds — for the world gives you credit for inherit- 
 ing no less — not above a year ago, could have managed 
 to get embarrassed in so short a time. 1\\ proportion 
 to the wealth you were supposed to possess is the se- 
 verity of the censure on such a spendthrift as you are 
 accused of being. Some declare you to be a professed 
 gambler, though your friends know you never played ; 
 w];iile others, ignorant of your father having died when 
 you were a child, insist that you had ruined yourself 
 by post-obits while in your minority. Beaulieu comes 
 off better : they say that as he, being a younger bro- 
 ther, had not much to lose, he consequently is not so
 
 STRATHERN. 51 
 
 blameable. The outcry about you, however, is for- 
 gotten in my imagined delinquency — yes, delinquency ; 
 for is not poverty in England considered to be nothing 
 short of crime ? — and, not to my knowledge owing at 
 this moment a guinea at home, I am set down as one 
 of ' them there liarrystockracy^ as the lower orders 
 designate us, who pay no one, and, when they have 
 spent all, and more than they ever had, run away to 
 the continent, and leave poor tradespeople to suffer for 
 having trusted them.'' 
 
 " We must, nevertheless, my dear friend, acknow- 
 ledge," replied Strathem, " that the sweeping censure 
 and unjust suspicions indulged by the lower classes 
 against ' our order ' have had their origin in the reck- 
 less extravagance of some of its members, entailing, 
 among other evils, the want of power to fulfil engage- 
 ments thoughtlessly incurred, and by which trades- 
 people are often greatly injured, and sometimes wholly 
 ruined/' 
 
 " Pshaw ! don't waste your pity on them, my dear 
 felloAv : a pack of bloodsuckers who fatten on us. Can 
 you drive out anywhere, within fifty miles of the me- 
 tropolis, without seeing villas — ay, and mansions, too 
 — the trimness and order of which attract your notice, 
 and induce you to inquire the names of their owners, 
 without discovering them to be the cormorants who 
 have been preying on you in the shape of jewellers, 
 mercers, tailors, hatters, and id genus omne^ the pro- 
 duce of whose impositions is staring you in the face, 
 in the shape of velvet lawns, green verandaed houses, 
 and picturesque cottages, embosomed in umbrageous 
 shades, as George Robins would say V 
 
 D 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOiS LIBRARY
 
 52 STRATIIERN. 
 
 '' Indeed, my dear Fitzwarren, you are unjust to 
 the class you describe. I have known many persons 
 of strict probity and honourable sentiments among 
 them." 
 
 '' Have you, by Jove ! Then you have been more 
 fortunate than I have." 
 
 " For me, I coincide with Fitzwarren, and odi pro- 
 fanum xidgiis^ et arceo^'' said Lord Alexander Beaulieu 
 with a disdainful air. 
 
 " Has it never occurred to you that the want of 
 punctuality in the payments of those denominated 
 men of fashion has led to the overcharges and imposi- 
 tion of which you complain?" asked Strathern. 
 
 " Who the deuce need take care, or indeed can 
 afford to be punctual, when charged half as much 
 asfain as an article is worth V 
 
 " It is precisely because a tradesman cannot calcu- 
 late when he is likely to receive the value of the goods 
 he sells, and for which he must pay w^ithin a given 
 time, that he is compelled to charge a larger price 
 than if he obtained immediate payment, or even at 
 the end of a year's credit," observed Strathern. 
 
 " But if you admit, and you cannot do otherwise, 
 that they commence with charging more than the 
 value, what can you say for their demanding interest 
 after the first year for articles already over-priced, on 
 the consideration of anticipated want of punctuality T 
 
 " I say that perhaps even then they ultimately do 
 not profit as much as if they sold their goods at a less 
 price, for ready money," replied Strathern. 
 
 " By Jove, you are a regular advocate for the shop- 
 ocracy !" said Lord Alexander Beaulieu ; " and, if I
 
 STPvATHERN. 53 
 
 did not know that no mesalliance had ever caused the 
 noble blood of the Stratherns to mingle with that of a 
 parvenu^ I should have suspected that some one of 
 your grandmothers had belonged to the race you so 
 warmly defend." 
 
 " Who but Englishmen would pause in such a 
 place," observed Strathern, " to talk of the subject 
 that has just occupied us ? — and Fitzwarren, too, who 
 has never been in the Vatican before ! Look how the 
 strangers stare at us in astonishment : why, the veiy 
 custodil are smiline: at our barbarism !" 
 
 " And what care I V said Fitzwarren. " I much 
 prefer a little rational talk to gazing at statues, the 
 merits of which I don't understand, or gaping up at 
 painted ceilings until I get a stiff neck and a fit of 
 yawning. I have had enough of that work at Flo- 
 rence, where I was bored to death by a stupid fellow 
 of a laquais de place^ who would insist on taking me to 
 see every gallery in the place, until I wished him and 
 them at the bottom of the sea. Why, this morning 
 when I got up, a Roman fellow, calling himself a cice- 
 rom^ offered to take me a Giro. ' You and your Giro 
 be hanged,' said I : ' take me to the lodging of my 
 friends :' which he did, turning up his eyes like a duck 
 in thunder at my refusal to stop and examine any of 
 the objects he pointed out." 
 
 " Then, au nom du ciel^'' exclaimed Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu, " what induced you to come to RomeT' 
 
 " A temptation which would induce me to go to the 
 North Pole, if required — a girl, and the very hand- 
 somest, too, I ever set my eyes on. A magnificent 
 creature : large in the forehand ; capital shoulder ; fine
 
 54 STRATHERN. 
 
 in the legs ; neat in the pasterns ; sound in the feet ; 
 and with such a coat — skin, I mean — as I never before 
 saw. Met her at the English minister's at Florence, 
 at dinner : good fellow that, and gives a capital feed — 
 devilish civil to me. Saw her next evening at Nor- 
 manby's theatre : devilish fine acting, I assure you, 
 and he a first-rate performer ; keeps a capital house, 
 and enables one to judge of the merits of his cook by 
 inviting one to dinner frequently. She — the girl, I 
 mean — did not act : all the better. I hate having 
 girls going through love-scenes on the stage ; it be- 
 gets too much familiarity^ Wouldn't like to marry 
 a girl who had been playing Juliet to any Romeo but 
 myself; and hang me if I think, even to please the 
 girl of my heart, I could act that love-sick, melancholy 
 swain ; " and Fitzwarren burst out into a loud laugh, 
 that attracted the eyes of those near enough to hear 
 it, as the comical notion of his enacting the part of 
 Romeo crossed his mind. " Well," resumed he, 
 " having been regularly presented to her, I thought 
 myself entitled to converse with her when we met. 
 She is as shy as my old mare Fanny — you remember 
 Fanny, don't you ? A capital mare I had from Jersey ; 
 thorough- bred and fine action. Ah ! that ims an 
 animal." 
 
 " The lady, or the mare T asked Lord Alexander 
 Eeaulieu, laughing. 
 
 " What a fellow you are, Beaulieu ! — the mare, to be 
 sure. I found the girl so shy and distant that I could 
 hardly get a word from her. Strange, wasn't it \ for 
 you know that in London the girls and their mothers, 
 too, are monstrous civil to me ; too civil by half, I
 
 STRATHERN. 55 
 
 think sometimes, when they are at Epsom or Ascot, 
 in the stand, and prevent one from making one's bets, 
 or hedging, they are so chatty and so anxious about 
 one's horse winning:. Findino- she was so reserved, I 
 tried to amuse her by telling her the London news of 
 the last season, with some of our good stories ; but — 
 would yoa believe it? — she never vouchsafed to smile, 
 though you remember how Lady Agnes Mildenard, 
 Lady Sophy Aldenham, and Lady Maria Fording- 
 bridge, used to laugh when I told them. Being deter- 
 mined to conquer her shyness, I went on and men- 
 tioned how I disliked seeing sights, gaping at statues 
 and pictures, and looking at churches and ruins ; and 
 then I saw her smile ; and, by Jove ! most beautiful 
 she looked at the moment, showing teeth like pearls ; 
 but there was something sly and wicked about her 
 eye, as it fell on me, that made me think she was 
 laughing at me, though I don't know why. I intended 
 to propose for her in the course of a few days, feeling 
 quite certain that I should never find a girl so much 
 to my taste ; but judge of my surprise when I disco- 
 vered, two days after, that she had accompanied her 
 mother to Rome ; so off I came in search of her."' 
 
 " And so, Fitzwarren, you really are in love at 
 last f said Lord Alexander Beaulieu. " I tiiousfht 
 that only by a paracentesis was your heart to be 
 reached." 
 
 " This fair creature has found the way to it, I can 
 tell you," replied Lord Fitzwarren, heaving the first 
 sigh that had ever been heard to come from his broad, 
 fat chest ; and so comically did his plump, rosy face 
 look with the grave expression which for a moment it
 
 56 STRATHERN. 
 
 assumed, that both his companions could not resist 
 lauffhino-. 
 
 '' You may lauo'h, but I am caught at last,"' said 
 Fitzwarren ; " and without her so much as saying a 
 civil thing to me, or even smiling at one of my jokes. 
 Isn't it strange ? Hang me, if I know how she ma- 
 naged it !*" 
 
 " Tell us the name of this reserved, if not scornful 
 beauty ; there is something peculiarly piquant, I sup- 
 pose, from the novelty, in finding a woman who takes 
 no pains to attract, and uses no endeavour to retain 
 an admirer. I long to become acquainted with this 
 rara ams,''^ observed Strathern. 
 
 " For the purpose of cutting me out, I suppose. 
 No, by Jove ! you would be too formidable a rival in 
 my way, so 1 will not present you."" 
 
 " I will save you that trouble,"" said Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu ; " for I have not only divined the name of 
 the lady of your love, but I have had the happiness of 
 being made known to her."' 
 
 " The devil you have ! why, she has been but two 
 days at Rome. But you are only trying to get at her 
 name. I see it all. You don't know her.'' 
 
 " You will perhaps credit my assertion when I men- 
 tion the name, which is no other than Miss Sydney, 
 the daughter and heiress of the late Ferdinand Syd- 
 ney, Esq., of Sydney Court, in Yorkshire." 
 
 " That is the name, I admit. But see, Strathern, 
 what a fellow Beaulieu is. He has already found out 
 that she is an heiress, while I was wholly ignorant, 
 and perfectly careless of the matter. I really believe 
 that if Venus herself could appear before him, he
 
 STRATHERN. 57 
 
 would inquire what is her 'fortune and expecta- 
 tions V As you know so much about her, probably 
 you are acquainted with her abode V^ 
 
 " Perfectly. She is at Serny's, in the Piazza 
 d'Espagna." 
 
 " Then Til be off, to pay my visit there :" and, 
 rapidly turning from his companions, Lord Fitzwarren 
 quitted the gallery of the Vatican, without looking at 
 a single one of the treasures it contained, or even at 
 the place itself. 
 
 D 5
 
 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 O, Rome ! still glorious in thy fallen state, 
 
 Proud trophy of the power of Time and Fate ; 
 
 Thy ruins are more eloquent than all 
 
 That ever gifted orators let fall, 
 
 To prove the nothingness of pride and fame, 
 
 When nought is left thee, save thy mighty name. 
 
 In the Oorso, some hours after, Strathern encoun- 
 tered Fitzwarren, whose countenance wore an expres- 
 sion of discontent very unusual to its general character. 
 
 " Where do you dine V were the first words lie 
 uttered. 
 
 " I have no engagement,"'"' was the reply. 
 
 " Well, then, let us dine together. Do, Strathern, 
 take pity on a poor devil wholly out of his element, 
 and already fit to hang himself."'"' 
 
 " Come and dine at my hotel, and meet Beaulieu." 
 
 " Agreed. I almost wish I had come to Rome. It 
 is no place for me."*"* 
 
 ." "VVhy, being at Rome, do you not do as those at 
 Rome do? Why not see those objects that attract 
 travellers from every country here? Even Beaulieu 
 takes an interest in them, though not more addicted 
 to the study of antiquarian lore than yourself.""
 
 STRATHERN. 59 
 
 " He affects to take an interest in tliem merely to 
 be able to prate about them when he returns to England, 
 and make believe that he understands something about 
 them ; but / am no humbug, and can no more go 
 about, led by a laquais de place^ or a cicerone, staring 
 at things I don't care a rush about, than I could pre- 
 tend to impose on people by talking of them when I 
 return home. No, Rome is no place for me. Why, 
 would you believe it ? when I asked to be taken to the 
 horse-dealers' stables, to amuse myself by looking at 
 their nags, my fellow took me to a filthy lane, the 
 odour of which was insupportable, and into stables 
 which might be compared to the Augean ones assigned 
 to Hercules to cleanse : you see I have not forgotten 
 school. There I saw some eight or ten such brutes 
 as I never before beheld. I had a few trotted out for 
 the fun of the thing, and, by Jove ! their action quite 
 equalled their appearance. The breed has changed but 
 little since the time of the ancients, for these horses 
 are as like some of the has relievii I saw at the Vatican, 
 the only thing I looked at there, as if the marble was 
 copied from them. Great clumsy brutes, with heads 
 like rams, heavy, and slow in their paces, and, when 
 put in a quick movement, looking as if they were gal- 
 loping after their own heads. I would not ride one of 
 them on any consideration ; and when I said so, the 
 fellows in the stable were mightily offended. So here 
 I am, like a fish out of water. At Florence, Normanby 
 lent me a clever nag of his every day. He has a stable 
 full of capital ones, so I got on very well ; but here 
 what am I to do ? And I endure all this for a girl 
 who refused to admit me when I called at her door. I
 
 60 STRATHERN. 
 
 guessed she was at home, though the servant denied 
 her ; and five minutes after I left the house I saw her 
 carriage come to it, and she and her mother step in 
 and drive o&. How unhke the Wellerby girls, who, 
 the moment they espied me passing the window of 
 their hotel, began kissing their hands, and beckoning 
 me to come to them." 
 
 " The Wellerby girls, as you so unceremoniously 
 designate them, are not remarkable for their reserve. 
 Au contraire^ they seem to think that they have a 
 right to seize on every unmarried man of fortune who 
 comes to Rome, and ivj their skill in engrossing his 
 attentions. I advise you, therefore, Fitzwarren, to be- 
 ware of man-traps set there." 
 
 " Thanks for your counsel, my dear fellow, but I 
 am an old bird, and not to be caught with chaff, and 
 she must, indeed, be a sharp one who can take me in. 
 Why, the very reason this girl I am so cursedly in love 
 with captivated me, was, that I saw from the first she 
 did not take the slightest pains to please me. If she 
 had, I am such a knowing chap that, ten to one, I 
 would not have taken such a desperate fancy to her. 
 You don't knovv^, Strathern, what a deep hand I 
 am." 
 
 "I confess I did not give you credit for being so 
 much on your guard." 
 
 " But I am, though ; you should see me when girls 
 are doing all they can to catch me. I remain as cool 
 as a cucumber, by Jove, I do ! Contradict them 
 merely to show 'em I am not to be had, and laugh 
 wlien they talk sentiment. They'll not make a fool 
 of me, I can tell 'em. But this girl, she is quite
 
 STRATHERN. 61 
 
 another sort of thing. I cannot get her out of my 
 head." 
 
 " Your heart, you mean ; for in love, it is said, the 
 head has very little to do in the matter." 
 
 " Head or heart, all I know is, that I never before 
 felt so miserable in all my life. You may laugh, 
 Strathern, but hang me if it isn''t true. What can be 
 more vexatious than to be one''s own master, with a 
 large fortune, and yet not be able to gain possession of 
 the only thing I desire ? I who have hitherto never 
 had a single wish ungratified." 
 
 " Your wishes, probably, have heretofore been con- 
 fined to pleasures easily attained by wealth." 
 
 " Yes, and I wish I had now no other, for it 
 maddens me to think that all my fortune would be 
 unavailing to win the only girl I ever really cared 
 about." 
 
 " With this conviction, abandon the pursuit, and 
 turn your thoughts to other objects." 
 
 " This is much more easily said than done, my good 
 fellow. Why, I can think of nothing else. She is 
 always running in my head, just as my beautiful 
 mare Fanny used to be before I was able to buy her. 
 You'll laugh at me when I tell you that for weeks I 
 could hardly bring myself to look at any other horse, 
 though the dealers were every day trying to tempt me 
 with their primest nags ; and so wholly had I set my 
 heart on having Fanny, that I would have given five 
 times the sum I paid for her, large as it was, rather 
 than not have her. Once I have set my mind on a 
 thing, I can't bear being baulked, and people find this 
 out, and take advantage of it."
 
 62 STRATHERN. 
 
 " But, being aware of this, why do you not exercise 
 some deo^ree of self-control f 
 
 " That is, talk or reason myself out of what I wish 
 for, or else determine to pay only a fair price for it. 
 No, Strathern, life is too short for those who have 
 plenty of money to deny themselves anything that it 
 can purchase. This is my maxim, and the only rule I 
 follow." 
 
 " I cannot compliment you on it, for it is founded 
 wholly in selfishness ; and wealth was given us for better 
 purposes than mere self-indulgence. Think, Fitz- 
 warren, of all the good you might effect with a portion 
 only of the money you expend for your personal grati- 
 fications." 
 
 "And do you not expend as large sums in yours? 
 What is the difference, whether I spend my money on 
 horses, hounds, and other pleasures, or, as you do, on 
 pictures, statues, books, and such like ? I can see none, 
 and my motto is, every man to his fancy." 
 
 " Yet the results are very different. By encouraging 
 painters, sculptors, and literature, I advance the fine 
 arts, and give employment to those who have devoted 
 their lives to the study of them. This is highly 
 advantageous to my country, and tends to promote its 
 interests." 
 
 " And do I not encourage the breed of horses and 
 dogs, by giving enormous prices for them, and afford 
 employment to grooms, helpers, and keepers, by the 
 large stud of nags in my stables ? I can see no reason 
 why my money is not as laudably expended as yours 
 is, though in a different w^ay ; ay, and more so, for by 
 mine I encourage the agricultural interest of England
 
 STRATHERN. 63 
 
 by increasing the demand for hay and corn, while your 
 pictures, statues, and books consume none. What can 
 you say to this, my good fellow ? Have I not given 
 you a pozer ? I am no fool, I can tell you, and have 
 studied the matter more deeply than you think. What 
 has old Eno-land ever been famous for ? said I to mv- 
 self. For fine horses, racing, and sport, to be sure. 
 What has rendered her superior to the whole world ? 
 Why, her horses have. Well, then, he who keeps 
 the greatest number of these noble animals, and encou- 
 rages racing and hunting, is the truest patriot, and the 
 best friend to the agricultural interest. Live and let 
 live, say I. I quarrel with no man's taste. You like 
 pictures and statues, I don't ; for every day I go out 
 hunting or shooting in England I can see nature, 
 which pleases me more than all the landscapes ever 
 painted. Are brown and yellow trees on canvass, 
 with dark glossy ground and ruined temples, and 
 rivers half green and blue, to be compared to our fresh 
 fields, fine old trees, comfortable farm-houses, and 
 glassy rivers 2 Can any statues be compared to good 
 flesh and blood ? Not any that I ever saw. What 
 can you say against this, Strathern V^ 
 
 Strathern smiled at the triumphant air of Fitz- 
 warren ; but, feeling how useless any of the arguments 
 he could adduce would prove to change his opinion, 
 he declined prolonging the argument, and left his friend 
 master of the field. 
 
 " Now Strathern was reckoned one of the cleverest 
 fellows at college," said Lord Fitzwarren to himself, as 
 he walked to his hotel, "• yet I had infinitely the best 
 of the argument with him. I did not leave him a
 
 64 STRATHERN. 
 
 word to say — no, not a single word. Hang me, if I 
 don't begin to speak in the House of Lords when I get 
 back ! I had no notion I had such a knack until I 
 pozed Strathern. Yes, I'll make a figure in the 
 House. A2:ricultural interest and as^ricultural dis- 
 tress are always popular words in a speech. They 
 sound well, and read well in the papers. This will 
 make me more liked than ever by the farmers, and 
 render them doubly anxious to preserve the game and 
 the foxes. By Jove ! it's a famous notion. I wonder 
 it never came into my head before. How pleasant it 
 will be to have the House crying ' Hear ! ' ' Hear ! ' 
 ' Hear ! ' as I come out with my opinions. I'll say, 
 ' I have reflected long and deeply on the cause of dis- 
 tress in the country.' One must always take credit 
 for having reflected long and deeply, though I dare 
 be sworn the most of the lords have done so as little 
 as I have. Then I'll add, ' I have studied the condi- 
 tion of other countries.' That sounds well ; but I 
 won't add, ' by sleeping comfortably in my carriage 
 while travelling, and living wholly with the English 
 abroad.' Yes, I'll get up a speech, I'm determined 
 on it, and astonish the natives when I get back." 
 
 The evening of that day Strathern met Miss 
 Sydney and her mother at a small party given by 
 Lady Monthermer, and, at his request, was presented 
 to them. The rare beauty of the young lady attracted, 
 and the calm self-possession of her manner, so unHke 
 those of the generality of the young women he was 
 accustomed to meet, impressed him greatly in her 
 favour. Her mother, a mild and dignified woman, 
 who still retained the traces of no ordinary beauty,
 
 STRATHERN. 65 
 
 differed greatly from the husband-seeking matrons 
 around her, whose civilities towards bachelors of for- 
 tune were somewhat too marked not to leave room to 
 doubt their being dictated by mere politeness. When 
 Lord Fitz warren joined the party, Strathern observed 
 that the countenance of Miss Sydney assumed an 
 air of dissatisfaction, which became increased when, 
 after making his bow to the mistress of the house, he 
 quickly approached her with extended hand, seeming 
 wholly unmindful of the propriety of first addressing 
 her mother. No hand met his outstretched one, and 
 the coldness with which his animated salutations were 
 returned might have checked the advances of a less 
 bold man. Mrs. Sydney, whose presence he at length 
 noticed, was scarcely less reserved in her reception of 
 him than her beautiful daughter had been ; neverthe- 
 less, he seemed determined to stay near them, ad- 
 dressing his conversation exclusively to the young 
 lady. 
 
 " I never was more surprised than when I learned 
 that you had left Florence,'' said Fitzwarren. 
 
 " I know not why you should be so,"" observed 
 Miss Sydney, with Glacial coldness. 
 
 " You never told me you intended coming to 
 Rome." 
 
 " Our acquaintance was so slight, that I saw no 
 necessity for making you acquainted with our move- 
 ments.'' 
 
 " That was very ill-natured on your part. The 
 moment, however, I heard you were gone, I deter- 
 mined on seeing Rome also, and now that I am here, 
 I hope we shall meet every day."
 
 66 STRATHERN. 
 
 The young lady drew up her snowy neck, and 
 looked more disdainful than Strathern thousrht so 
 
 o 
 
 beautiful a face could look. Meanwhile several young 
 girls, and some no longer youthful, were casting 
 friendl}^ glances at Fitzwarren, whose eyes were fixed 
 on the only woman in the room who would have 
 shunned them, had she the power, and who was evi- 
 dently much annoyed by his attention. 
 
 " I called at your door this morning," said Fitz- 
 warren, " and was very much disappointed at not 
 finding you at home. To-morrow I hope to be more 
 fortunate." 
 
 " My mother and I seldom receive morning 
 visitors." 
 
 " You will, I trust, allow me to be one of the few 
 admitted. Pray do ; for I have something to say 
 which is of importance." 
 
 " You must excuse me, my Lord, and permit me to 
 add, that you can have no communication to make 
 that can be of the least importance to me." 
 
 " Why how can you tell, until you know what it 
 
 is r 
 
 " I am so totally uninterested in any communica- 
 tion coming from a person who is almost a stranger to 
 me, that I must request you to excuse my hearing it." 
 
 Miss Sydney turned from her tormentor, and began 
 conversins: in French with her mother. 
 
 Strathern now ventured to address Mrs. Sydney, 
 and his respectful manner offering so striking and 
 agreeable a contrast to the free and easy one of Lord 
 Fitzwarren, impressed her in his favour, and induced 
 her to listen with interest to his conversation. They
 
 STRATHERN. 67 
 
 spoke of Rome, and the objects so worthy of attention 
 which it contains. Mrs. Sydney's was a highly culti- 
 vated mind, well prepared for the contemplation of the 
 classic ruins with which the Eternal City abounds, 
 and for the study of the glorious works of art so calcu- 
 lated to charm a person of fine taste. In Strathern 
 she found a scholar without pedantry — a fine gentle- 
 man in the true acceptation of the word, namely, a 
 highly-bred and polite man, equally free from conceit 
 or affectation, as from self-complacency or familiarity, 
 the besetting sins of the young men of the present 
 day. Miss Sydney listened, rather than joined, in the 
 conversation, though it was evident she took a lively 
 interest in it, and the few observations which she made 
 evinced such a knowledge of the subject treated of, as 
 led Strathern to judge very favourably of her intellect 
 and fine taste. But even had she not spoken, hers 
 was so eloquent a countenance, that he must have been 
 a poor physiognomist who could look on its varying 
 expression, while she listened to the conversation 
 carrying on, without being convinced that hers was no 
 ordinary mind. The daughter of such a mother, 
 thought Strathern, could not be otherwise than intel- 
 lectual ; and he was right, for Mrs. Sydney had assi- 
 duously cultivated the fertile mind of her lovely 
 daughter, no less by bestowing on her the best educa- 
 tion, than by conversing with her ever since her girl- 
 hood, on topics selected for conveying instruction, and 
 instilling high principles. 
 
 Left a widow while still in the prime of life, and in 
 the possession of personal attractions, and a dowry, 
 which, even had they been much less remarkable,
 
 68 STRATHERN. 
 
 might have insured her many suitors, Mrs. Sydney 
 had devoted herself wholly to the care of her only 
 child, and, true to the memory of a husband fondly 
 beloved and deeply lamented, declined ever giving him 
 a successor in her affections. Her child was all to 
 her, and the happiness she could no longer hope to 
 obtain for herself on earth, she looked forward to see 
 her daughter enjoy when grown to womanhood, and 
 consigned to a husband worthy of her. - And well did 
 Louisa Sydney repay her doting mother''s care, and 
 return her aifection. It was, in truth, a pleasant sight 
 to behold the mother and daus^hter tosfether. The 
 one still fair, touched, but not faded by sorrow, which, 
 more than time, had given that grave cast to a coun- 
 tenance so delicately feminine, that without it she 
 might still have rivalled many a matronly belle of her 
 circle who had not ceased to achieve conquests. The 
 style of dress, too, adopted by Mrs. Sydney, if it 
 made her not look older than she actually was, at 
 least added to the general character of grave dignity 
 which marked her appearance. Louisa Sydney re- 
 sembled her mother greatly. Above the middle height, 
 she was exquisitely formed, and so graceful were all 
 her movements, that they lent a new charm to her 
 beautiful figure. Her face was of that regular oval so 
 seldom seen but in the works of the ancients ; and 
 her features, small and perfect, acquired additional 
 beauty from her fair and transparent complexion, and 
 the rich colour of her lips. Her eyes were of a deep 
 blue, with snowy lids, fringed with silken lashes dark 
 as the straight and well-defined brows that spanned 
 them, and made her forehead appear still more white ;
 
 STRATHERN. 69 
 
 her bright brown hair was divided a la Madonna on 
 her temples, and bound around her small and finely- 
 shaped head. Her arms, hands, and feet were fault- 
 less, and she presented one of those rare and happy 
 examples of perfect beauty, without any portion of the 
 insipidity often said to appertain to it. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that, with such charms, 
 Louisa Sydney was an object of universal attraction 
 wherever she moved ; but, unlike the generality of ac- 
 knowledged beauties, she appeared as unconscious of 
 her superiority, as of the effects it produced on others. 
 This very unusual unconsciousness, while it precluded 
 vanit}^, rendered her less indulgent to the admirers 
 attracted by her charms ; and, when finding they con- 
 tinued their unwelcomed attentions, notwithstanding 
 the discouragement on her part, there was a coldness 
 almost amounting to sternness in her manner of re- 
 pelling their troublesome assiduities. 
 
 " I fear your admirers will accuse you of rudeness, 
 my dear child,'' would Mrs. Sydney say to her 
 daughter. 
 
 " As long as they cannot accuse me of encouraging 
 their addresses, I shall not care ; but really, dearest 
 mother, they seem to presume on our unprotected 
 situation, by the continuance of attentions which they 
 cannot avoid seeing are disagreeable to me, and appear 
 so confident that they must please me, that I cannot 
 resist showing them how great is their error.'" 
 
 " I think, dearest, you might check their advances 
 without betraying any petulance." 
 
 " And so I endeavour to do, but some of these men
 
 70 STRATHERN. 
 
 are so vain and confident of their claims to command 
 success, that they provoke me into a sentiment very 
 nearly approaching to anger ; and I have not yet 
 acquired sufficient self-control to suppress its symp- 
 toms.'" 
 
 Strathern left the party at Lady Monthermer's, 
 thinking more of Miss Sydney than he had ever pre- 
 viously done of any woman, and wondering how Lord 
 Fitzwarren could imagine that so refined and gifted a 
 being could be pleased with his attentions. While 
 he sat at breakfast the next morning, perusing the 
 Diario di Roma^ Lord Alexander Beaulieu entered. 
 " Do you know, my dear Strathern,"" said he, after 
 some desultory conversation, " that I am half disposed 
 to turn my thoughts towards the heiress. I hear she 
 has a very large fortune, and to a cadet defamille such 
 a wife would be very acceptable." The girl is, I must 
 admit, remarkably beautiful, which is another advan- 
 tage, for it would preclude any of the spiteful remarks 
 so prevalent in our cliques at home when a man marries 
 an heiress."' 
 
 " To whom do you allude V asked Strathern, 
 wholly forgetful of the fact of Miss Sydney being 
 one, so little importance did he attach to that circum- 
 stance which has so great an influence with the 
 generality of men. 
 
 '' To Miss Sydney, to be sure," replied Lord Alex- 
 ander Beaulieu. " She evidently discourages the atten- 
 tions of Fitzwarren, which cannot be wondered at, for 
 poor Fitz, though a devilish good sort of fellow, is 
 more fit for his club than for a drawing-room, and
 
 STRATHERN. 71 
 
 more capable of winning the brush at a fox-chase, 
 than the heart of a young and lovely girl like the one 
 in question, and moreover, an heiress." 
 
 " Miss Sydney is certainly a very superior person," 
 observed Strathern, " and I agree with you that our 
 friend does not appear to have much chance of making 
 himself acceptable to her." 
 
 " I did not pay her any attention last night," re- 
 sumed Beaulieu, assuming a careless air, "for I 
 thought it best to let her see the empressement with 
 which all the other English girls have accepted my 
 civilities. Nothins^ raises a man so much in the 
 estimation of women as to see him made a fuss of by 
 their own sex, and we certainly have here at present 
 girls who are willing to flirt even with a younger 
 brother rather than not flirt at all. She must have 
 seen last night how recherche I am, and that must 
 have made a favourable impression. Yes, I will think 
 of it, and, though a French philosopher has said that 
 marriage may be sometimes convenient, but is never 
 delightful, a truth which so many of our Benedicts at 
 home admit, I would not hesitate to gulp down the 
 pill, provided it is well gilded." 
 
 Strathern could have found it in his heart to have 
 knocked the coxcomb down, while, contemplating his 
 image in a large mirror and arranging his hair, this 
 speech was uttered, so indignant did he feel that 
 Miss Sydney could be thus iightly spoken of. In a 
 few minutes after Lord Fitzwarren entered the room. 
 
 " Well, Fitz, how goes on your love affair ?" de- 
 manded Lord Alexander Beaulieu, a supercilious smile 
 playing over his face.
 
 72 STRATIIERX. 
 
 " Hans: me if I know what to make of the <x\v\ !" 
 replied Lord Fitzwarren. " She was positively un- 
 civil to me last night, wasn't she, Strathern ? and yet 
 I cannot get her out of my head. I feel about her 
 just as I used to do about horses — the more wicked 
 and shy they were, the fonder I was of them. There 
 was Fanny, always shying, kicking, and plunging — 
 threw me twice, and nearly broke my leg, yet I couldn't 
 bear to sell her, and liked her all the better for her 
 defects. So it is with this girl, the more proud and 
 insolent she is, the more infatuated I am about her, 
 and hang me if 1 can help it."" 
 
 " The mother seems as stately and reserved as the 
 daughter," observed Lord Alexander Beaulieu. 
 
 " Who cares about the mother f said Fitzwarren. 
 " One doesn't want to marry her." 
 
 " What jointure has she I " asked Lord Alex- 
 ander. 
 
 " Are you thinking of proposing to her V said 
 Fitzwarren. " Only think, Strathern, having Axy 
 Beaulieu for a father-in-law. By Jove, it would be 
 capital fun ! Well, you shall have my support, I 
 promise you, and really, now that I reflect on it, the 
 widow is still a devilish fine woman, and does not look 
 above six and thirty." 
 
 " What say you to marrying her yourself, Fitz, 
 when the daughter rejects you, for reject you I am 
 positive she will." 
 
 " ril bet you a cool hundred she doesn't." 
 
 " Make it five, and Til take you." 
 
 " Done ; five let it be." 
 
 " Yes, but mind you must regularly pop the
 
 STRATHERN. 73 
 
 question. No bubble bet — for, if you don't propose, 
 she can't refuse." 
 
 " What a knowing hand Axy is ! Always suspicious, 
 always afraid of being done." 
 
 Strathern arose, rang for his carriage, and, disgusted 
 with both his soi-disant friends, left them, and pro- 
 ceeded to visit the atelier of an English sculptor 
 engaged in a work for him. On entering, the first 
 persons he met were Mrs. Sydney and her daughter ; 
 and the dignified and graceful demeanour of both 
 ladies made him feel still more indignant towards the 
 two men he had so lately heard calculating, nay, 
 betting, on the chance of being accepted as the hus- 
 band of one, and jesting on the subject of the other. 
 The mild and amiable o^reetino- of the mother was 
 more congenial to his feelings than the cold and 
 reserved recognition accorded to him by the daughter. 
 This reserve operated as a check to prevent his endea- 
 vouring to make himself agreeable to the young lady, 
 so he addressed his conversation chiefly to her mother, 
 and was rewarded by Mrs. Sydney's listening with 
 interest to his opinions on art, and expressing her 
 coincidence with most of them. Lady Wellerby and 
 her daughters soon after entered the studio. 
 
 " Well met, Mrs. Sydney," said the former. " We 
 have just left our cards and a note at your door, to 
 request you and Miss Sydney to come to us to-morrow 
 evening." 
 
 The invitations accepted. Lady Wellerby turned to 
 Strathern, and exclaimed : — 
 
 " Ah ! truant ; so I have caught you at last. Where 
 have you been hiding yourself? We have been to all 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 STRATHERN. 
 
 the artists to admire the beautiful works they are exe- 
 cuting for you, and came here to look at the Nymph ; 
 do, pray, Mr. Gibson, let me see it." 
 
 From the moment that the statue was uncovered. 
 Lady Wellerby and her daughters were loud in their 
 praises of it. "Beautiful!'' "Exquisite!" " Charm- 
 ino- !" " So graceful !" " So orioinal !" were uttered 
 alternately by these ladies, while Mrs. Sydney and her 
 daughter stood in mute admiration, much more flatter- 
 ing to the sculptor, as w^ell as to the owner of the statue, 
 than the afl'ected enthusiasm displayed by the others. 
 
 "It is indeed admirable," said Mrs. Sydney, after 
 a long pause. 
 
 " Yes," murmured her lovely daughter. 
 
 And Strathern felt that never before had he heard 
 that monosyllable so sweetly pronounced. 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Gibson, I see you have profited by our 
 ti^equent visits to your studio," said Lady Wellerby. 
 
 The sculptor looked puzzled, and began to express 
 his ignorance of her ladyship's precise meaning. 
 
 " Don't deny it ; I am not at all displeased. You 
 did quite right ; there is nothing like having nature to 
 copy from." 
 
 " I really do not comprehend your ladyship." 
 
 " Why, it is as plain as possible that my daughter. 
 Lady Olivia, has furnished a model, and realised your 
 beau ideal for this charming Nymph. It is as like as 
 possible — the same turn of the head, the unaftected 
 ease of the attitude, the expression of countenance, and, 
 above all, the exact resemblance of the face and bust ; 
 yes, it is the very image. I appeal to Mr. Strathern. 
 Don't you think the likeness striking !"
 
 STRATHERN. 75 
 
 " I cannot say it occurred to me," replied Stratliern. 
 
 " Nor to me," observed Lady Sophia Wellerby. 
 " Why, Olivia has a long, thin face, and a " 
 
 " I beg I may not be. made the subject of your per- 
 sonal remarks," said the Lady Olivia, blushing with 
 anger at the evident intention of her sister to depre- 
 ciate her attractions, but feeling no shame at her mo- 
 ther\s folly in making, or rather in affecting to make, 
 the discovery of the likeness where not a trace could 
 be really found. 
 
 " Olivia is so free from vanity, that she shrinks 
 from anything that may be construed into a compli- 
 ment," whispered Lady Wellerby to Strathern and 
 Mrs. Sydney ; " but, really, it is strange," continued 
 she aloud, " that in all the works executed for Mr. 
 Strathern I can trace a remarkable likeness to both my 
 girls ; and, although the sculptors deny having had 
 the intention of taking them for models, I nevertheless 
 cannot divest myself of the notion that, seeing them 
 so frequently in their studios, they may have, perhaps 
 involuntarily, copied, if not all, at least a considerable 
 portion of their works from my daughters. The arms 
 and hands of Mr. Westmacott's charming statue ap- 
 pear really to be fac-shniles of Sophia's, and the head 
 strikingly resembles Olivia." 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren now entered the atelier^ bluntly 
 saying he only came in because he saw Strathern's 
 carriage at the door, and, not knowing what to do with 
 himself, wished to be told where to o-o. 
 
 " You are come in time to decide whether I am rio^ht 
 or wrong in asserting that this statue bears a strong 
 resemblance to Lady Olivia," said Lady Wellerby.
 
 76 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Lady Olivia !'' exclaimed Fitzwarren. " Not the 
 .slightest — not the least ; no more like than my mare 
 Fanny is to Taglioni, Dullington's favourite mare. 
 This statue looks like a regular thoroughbred creature 
 — small bone, high condition, fine head, well put on ; 
 and Lady Olivia's head is large, and she is ewe-necked, 
 and " 
 
 " Reserve your comparisons for the stables or horse- 
 dealer's yard, my dear Fitzwarren," said Strathern, 
 interrupting the catalogue of defects which he felt 
 certain his friend was about to utter, and pitying the 
 evident dismay of the poor girl on whom her mother"'s 
 folly was about to draw this punishment. 
 
 " By Jove ! I wish I had brought some of my fa- 
 vourite horses here,'' resumed Fitzwarren, nothing 
 embarrassed at the timely interruption to his former 
 rude speech. *' I should like of all things to have 
 them copied in marble by this gentleman," turning 
 round and nodding to Mr. Gibson. " Hang me, if I 
 shouldn't like to build a large gallery at my place, and 
 have my favourite horses in marble ranged down each 
 side of it, with my stud-grooms, in their stable dress, 
 standing near them, and my dogs too. It would 
 please me much more than the gallery my grandfather 
 built and filled with statues, some of them patched 
 and mended, which he gave a mint of money for at 
 Rome." 
 
 " You are a perfect original. Lord Fitzwarren," 
 lisped the Lady Sophia Wellerby, with a most win- 
 ning smile. 
 
 " And you a good copy," was the blunt answer. 
 
 " Of whom, or of what f asked the young lady ;
 
 STRATHERN. 77 
 
 but, luckily, before an answer could be given, and the 
 chances were that it would not be a flattering one, 
 Mrs. Sydney and her daughter moved to depart, and 
 Lord Fitzwarren rushed to offer his assistance to 
 hand them to their carriage. Strathern, however, was 
 before him, and, while he gave his arm to Mrs. Sydney, 
 he overheard her lovely daughter decline the offered 
 one of Fitzwarren . 
 
 " What have I done that you are always so uncivil 
 to me f" said the peer. 
 
 " If you think me uncivil, why offer your atten- 
 tions V replied the young lady. 
 
 '' Because I can"*t help it, '** said he ; " but do tell me 
 why you are uncivil V 
 
 " I will be as unceremonious as yourself, and confess 
 that I wish to discourage attentions that are disao^ree- 
 able to me." 
 
 " But, tell me, do, for God's sake, how I can make 
 myself less disagreeable to you V 
 
 " By avoiding me."" And here further parley was 
 prevented by the young lady entering her carriage, 
 into which Strathern had just handed her mother ; 
 and Fitzwarren, with a most rueful countenance, was 
 left looking after the vehicle as it drove off, so engrossed 
 by reflections on his slighted passion, that Strathern 
 had thrice slapped him on the shoulder ere he was 
 aroused from his reverie. 
 
 " Yes,"' said he, " I begin to think that Axy Beau- 
 lieu will win my five hundred if I pop the question, 
 for I never saw a girl so obstinate and ill-natured. I 
 wish I could get her out of my head ; but, hang me ! 
 the more I try the less I succeed. Here comes that
 
 78 STRATHERN. 
 
 fellow, Beaulieu. Don't tell him that my chance 
 looks so bad, for he'd crow over me. I must try to 
 get up another bet with him as a hedge ; but he's 
 such a knowing one, that I must look sharp, or he 
 will take me in."
 
 STRATHERN. 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 O, Sympathy ! thou choicest gift of Heaven, 
 
 The bond to knit true hearts, in mercy given 
 
 To soothe the ills that e'er on mortals wait, 
 
 And yield a balm for all the ills of fate. 
 
 Without thee what is life ? A dreary waste 
 
 Where only brief and empty joys we taste ; 
 
 Still pining some companion soul to find 
 
 With tastes harmonious and congenial mind, 
 
 Where thought meets thought, as e'en in mirrors we 
 
 Reflected back our own resemblance see. 
 
 " I like Mr. Stratliern exceedingly,'' observed 
 Mrs. Sydney to her daughter, as they sat together 
 in her drawing-room after dinner on the day that 
 they had met our hero at the studio of Mr. Gibson. 
 
 " Yes, he appears agreeable and well-bred,'' was 
 the reply. " Nevertheless, after what Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu said about his fancying that every unmarried 
 woman who is only commonly civil has designs on 
 him, I confess I feel no desire to administer to his 
 vanity by evincing any wish of cultivating his ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 " Beware, my dear Louisa, of betraying a perti- 
 nacity in avoiding it," said Mrs. Sydney, " for that
 
 80 STRATHERN. 
 
 v/ould be almost as flattering to a vain man as if you 
 showed a desire to know him. But, notwithstanding 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu's report, I am not disposed 
 to think Mr. Strathern a vain man. Handsome men 
 are rarely so, and you must admit that he is remark- 
 ably good-looking."' 
 
 " Yes, he is well enough,"" replied Miss Sydney. 
 
 " Well enough ! Why, my dear child, that is just 
 the term one would apply to Lord Alexander Beau- 
 lieu"s looks, but it surely is not the one to de- 
 signate so distinguished and handsome a man as 
 Mr. Strathern." 
 
 " He does not strike me as being so remarkably 
 handsome,"" observed the fair Louisa ; but a blush 
 which rose to her cheek might have betrayed, had her 
 mother noticed it, her consciousness of being disin- 
 genuous for the first time in her life. 
 
 " I see you are prejudiced against him, my child,"" 
 said the unsuspicious mother, " and I am sorry that 
 you allow yourself to be so. Do not take for granted 
 all that you hear reported in society. You know not 
 the misrepresentations — sometimes unintentional, and 
 more frequently the reverse — made by persons to in- 
 fluence others against those of whom they are envious, 
 or to whom they entertain a dislike."" 
 
 " But surely Lord Alexander Beaulieu would not 
 be guilty of the meanness of telling a falsehood, and 
 he positively did assert that Mr. Strathern believed 
 every woman who said a civil word to be in love with 
 him."" 
 
 " There are some persons, and I am inclined to 
 think that Lord Alexander Beaulieu is among tlie
 
 STRATHERN. 81 
 
 number, who are prone to colour their impressions so 
 highly that they state for fact that which they only 
 suspect. I have heard him more than once describe 
 some of his acquaintances known to me so differently 
 from what they really are, that I should be very cau- 
 tious how 1 accorded credence to his reports/' 
 
 Louisa Sydney was not sorry to hear her mother, 
 for whose judgment she entertained a great respect, 
 throw doubts on the truth of Lord Alexander Beau- 
 lieu's statement, for it was painful to her to think that 
 a man who seemed in every other respect so superior 
 should have the unpardonable vanity ascribed to him 
 by his soi-disant friend — a vanity, above all others, 
 the least likely to find favour in the eyes of a high- 
 minded v^oman of delicacy. She, however, made no 
 farther remark, and Mrs. Sydney let the subject drop. 
 
 At Lady Wellerby's, the next evening, Strathern 
 met Mrs. and Miss Sydney, and again devoted the 
 greater portion of the evening to conversing with 
 them. His admiration for Louisa increased every 
 hour, but, had he not been attracted towards her^ the 
 charm of her mother's conversation would have led 
 him to prefer her society to that of any other woman 
 in Rome, while she, finding him the most rational and 
 agreeable man in their circle, was glad to escape the 
 trite and common-place chat of the other young men 
 by conversing with him. 
 
 With the generality of the English ladies then in 
 the Eternal City, Mrs. Sydney had but little sym- 
 pathy. They, for the greater part, consisted of match- 
 making mothers, looking out for rich bachelors, in the 
 hope of converting them into Benedicts — women of 
 
 e5
 
 82 STRATHERN. 
 
 fashion, whose pursuits and occupations were so pre- 
 cisely the same in Rome as in London, that it seemed 
 unaccountable why they should have journeyed so far 
 to follow the same routine of crowded soirees and 
 nightly rubbers of whist as at home. Other ladies 
 there were whose amusements were even of a less 
 innocent nature — women whose sole pleasure consisted 
 in being admired, and in exciting the envy of rival 
 belles. Their flirtations furnished topics to the ill- 
 natured portion of the society in which they moved, 
 and speculations as to the extent to which these flir- 
 tations were carried. How would they, thoughtless 
 and imprudent as they were, have shrunk with dis- 
 may, could they but have heard even a tenth part of 
 the scandalous suspicions and injurious assertions to 
 which the levity of their conduct gave rise ! — but they 
 heard only the insidious flatteries of their artful ad- 
 mirers, who, bent on exhibiting them as their con- 
 quests, cared little how the reputations of those ladies 
 to whom they paid such marked attentions sufiered, 
 provided their own vanity was gratified by the display 
 of their triumphs. 
 
 Sometimes a diversity was aff"orded by the presence 
 of Russian nobles, with unpronounceable names, and 
 fair wives sparkling in jewels, greatly enjoying the 
 temporary liberty accorded to them by their paternal 
 sovereign, who likes his subjects so well that he seldom 
 permits them to be long absent from his sight. It was 
 pleasant to see them basking in the sunshine of Italy, 
 enjoying it as only the inhabitants of the cold region 
 whence they came can, but always taking care to 
 assure those with whom they conversed, that Russia
 
 STRATHERN. 83 
 
 was by no means a bad climate, and that the Emperor 
 was, as every faithful subject is in duty bound to 
 think, the perfection of human nature. Germans, too, 
 mingled in the crowd of strangers sojourning at Eome, 
 and miglit easily be recognised by the gravity and 
 earnestness which characterises that thinking people. 
 They examined and reflected on all the objects most 
 worthy of attention, and lived more in the past than 
 the actual present. They were much prone to refer at 
 nio;ht to the si2:hts that had most interested them 
 during the c/iy-os of the day, their imaginations being- 
 filled with the thoughts they awakened. But they 
 found few of any other nation ready to converse with 
 them on such topics, all allusion to antiquity being, 
 b}^ fashionable society at Rome, voted a bore, and 
 those who talked of it were soon avoided. The 
 Parisian visitants at Rome were as well-dressed and 
 as lively as if in their own gay capital — setting the 
 modes to the rest of the heau monde^ and fully con- 
 scious of the importance of a toilette sans reproche. 
 A has bleu might sometimes be seen, who bestowed on 
 the inane circle of haiit ton the knowledge acquired 
 from her laquais de place or guide-book ; and groups 
 might be met of the most estimable, though not 
 the most agreeable, portion of society, the unsophis- 
 ticated wives and daughters of English country gentle- 
 men, tempted to roam by the supercilious airs assumed 
 over them in their own rural neighbourhoods by the 
 travelled lords and ladies, who prated about Italy as 
 familiarly as if they talked of the next village in their 
 own county, and appeared to despise those who had 
 not seen it.
 
 84 STRATHERN. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney could sometimes scarcely forbear a 
 smile, as she beheld some large and unwieldy matron, 
 dressed in the obsolete mode of three years gone by, 
 linked to the arm of a husband as obese as herself, 
 his shining bald head encircled by a few stray locks of 
 silvery hue, and his deeply-coloured red cheeks pro- 
 truding from his snowy cravat — reminding one of a 
 lobster in its shell served on a damask napkin — 
 shouldering their way to the mistress of the fete^ 
 followed by their daughters, likewise linked arm-in- 
 arm, all and each evidently alarmed and embarrassed. 
 
 In such an incongruous society, it was no wonder 
 that Mrs. Sydney was glad to find a well-educated 
 and refined man like Strathern, with whom she could 
 converse of the sights seen in the morning, or those 
 to be visited on the morrow. 
 
 And now Strathern asked and obtained permission 
 to call on her, and sometimes to accompany her in her 
 tour of siolit-seeino:, and olad was he to observe that 
 by degrees the reserve of Miss Sydney, amounting on 
 their first acquaintance almost to avoidance, wore off, 
 and she would take a part in the conversation, reveal- 
 ing, while she did so, a very superior mind, in the 
 cultivation of which nothing that could inform, 
 strengthen, or enliven it, had been neglected. But 
 though her reserve diminished, her manner towards 
 Strathern was widely different from that of the other 
 unmarried ladies of his acquaintance, and the most 
 vain man must have owned that it held out little 
 encouragement for his paying more marked attention. 
 The pleasure he found in a societ}^ so congenial to his 
 taste as that of Mrs. Sydney and her lovely daughter
 
 STRATHERN. 85 
 
 was often alloyed by the presence of Lord Fitzwarren, 
 who, despite of all the coldness of the mother and 
 undisguised dislike of the daughter, continued to 
 obtrude himself upon them whenever an opportunity 
 offered. He haunted their paths, following them in 
 all their giros, and hovering near them at every 
 evening party with a pertinacity most annoying to 
 them both, and equally so to Strathern. In vain did 
 the latter remonstrate on the impropriety of con- 
 tinuing attentions evidently unwelcome to the object 
 of them. Fitzwarren would say in answer to such 
 representations, 
 
 " Faint heart never won fair lady. Who knows 
 but in time I may conquer her repugnance ; and only 
 think what a triumph it would be to me if I Avere at 
 once to carry off this fair prize, and win Axy Beaulieu''s 
 five hundred into the bargain !" 
 
 " Be assured you will do neither, Fitzwarren, and I, 
 as your friend, tell you so." 
 
 " Has she authorized you to make this communi- 
 cation ?" 
 
 " No ; I cannot say she has." 
 
 " Then how do you know that I have no chancer' 
 
 " I judge so from her evident avoidance of you, 
 which you also must have observed." 
 
 "That goes for nothing. One must never mind 
 woman's frowns or coldness ; both are often only 
 assumed, and many of the sex have been known to 
 smile on those they least care for, and frown on those 
 to whom they are not indifferent. Women are like 
 horses, you never can tell what to make of them. 
 Why, I have had nags that would prick up their ears
 
 86 STRATHERN. 
 
 and look vicious whenever I approached them, yet 
 they never attempted to kick or bite me^ while they 
 looked as mild as lambs when strangers entered the 
 stable, but nevertheless tried to injure them. Such 
 may be the case with this girl/' 
 
 " I think you are mistaken in this instance, 
 Fitzwarren, and that you have no right to annoy 
 Miss Sydney."' 
 
 " Annoy her ! Why, what woman was ever an- 
 noyed by seeing a man desperately in love with her ? 
 Ah ! you don't know the sex as well as I do, Strathern ; 
 if you did, you would think differently." 
 
 " My knowledge of women of refined minds and 
 habits — and Mrs. and Miss Sydney are surely among 
 the most distinguished of this class — enables me to 
 judge that the line of conduct you pursue in tor- 
 menting a young lady who has never, even by your 
 own showing, vouchsafed you the least encouragement, 
 is not calculated to elevate you in her estimation, or 
 in that of those who witness it." 
 
 " But why should not Miss Sydney be as civil to 
 me as to you V 
 
 " Because I have never presumed to pay her any 
 more marked attention than that respectful courtesy 
 which is due from every well-bred man to a woman." 
 
 " That is, you are not in love with her, and I am." 
 
 Strathern felt the blood mount to his cheek at this 
 observation, for he was already conscious that Miss 
 Sydney had excited in his breast an interest never 
 previously experienced by him for any of her sex. He 
 was glad that Fitzwarren had not noticed his momen- 
 tary embarrassment ; and he again essayed to convince
 
 STRATHERN. 87 
 
 his obtuse friend of the impropriety of continuing* a 
 pursuit that could lead only to disappointment. 
 
 " But," interrupted Fitzwarren, " had you, like 
 me, fallen in love with Miss Sydney, what would you 
 have done V 
 
 "I would have confined myself to a distant and 
 respectful manner towards her, until I had so far cul- 
 tivated her acquaintance as to be enabled to judge 
 from her behaviour to me whether any more marked 
 attentions on my part would or would not be accept- 
 able." 
 
 " And so give some other fellow the time to step in 
 and cut you out. No, no, I am not such a fool. 
 Consider also that, besides my liking the girl, which I 
 really do, I have five hundred pounds at stake." 
 
 " To name such a consideration with reference to 
 Miss Sydney is really unworthy, and, to have made or 
 accepted a wager on such a subject, is still more so." 
 
 " You have your notions on this point, and I have 
 mine," said Fitzwarren, half offended with his friend ; 
 and, turning on his heel, he left him, affecting to show 
 his indifference to his advice by humming a tune. 
 
 " Yes," said Strathern, when he found himself 
 alone, " this lovely girl has made so deep an impres- 
 sion on my heart, that if she rejects its homage, it 
 will be long, if ever, before I recover the happy free- 
 dom I enjoyed before I knew her. And yet what is 
 the happiness of freedom in comparison with the love 
 of such a woman, could I but hope to win her 1 But 
 her reserve, her coldness, do they not prove her more 
 than indifference to me I It is true, she has gradually 
 become less cold, less reserved ; nevertheless, however
 
 88 STRATHERN. 
 
 closely I may scrutinize her manner towards me, I 
 cannot flatter myself into the belief that I stand higher 
 in her estimation than any other of the herd of ad- 
 mirers who hover around her, unless it be Fitzwarren, 
 for whom I see she entertains a positive dislike. Could 
 I but hope to conciliate her regard, to vanquish that 
 stately reserve, which, though diminished, still so often 
 chills me, how happy should I be !""* 
 
 Urged on by this hope, Strathern left nothing un- 
 done to please both mother and daughter, yet carefully 
 avoiding to reveal the deep interest he felt in the 
 success of his efforts, until assured that an avowal of 
 his sentiments would not be ill received. He hoped 
 much, but he feared more; and, though in him w^as 
 exemplified the truth of the verse — 
 
 " None without hope e'er lov'd tlie brightest fair, 
 For love will hope where reason would despair ;" 
 
 yet, so timid was he, as all true lovers are, that he mis- 
 trusted his own good qualities, both personal and men- 
 tal, being worthy to secure for him the prize he sought. 
 Society at Rome is so constituted that the members 
 of that called, par excellence^ la plus haute^ are in the 
 daily and nightly habit of meeting. They encounter 
 each other in the Vatican, St. Peter's, the artists'* 
 studios, on the Monte Pincio, and in tlie Villa Bor- 
 ghese. These frequent encounters, after some lapse of 
 time, tend to establish a footing of familiarity that it 
 would take an acquaintance of years to brino; about 
 in London, w^here so many different cliques exist, each 
 and all with their separate and united claims on the 
 attention of their votaries.
 
 STRATHERN. 89 
 
 St.ratliern blessed the chances thus afforded him of 
 constantly meeting the object of his passion, while he 
 deplored the opportunity furnished also to others to 
 obtrude their attentions on her. Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu was as unremitting, though less offensive in 
 the mode of evincing his admiration of Miss Sydney, 
 as was Lord Fitzwarren. Better versed in les hien- 
 seances du monde., and in his knowledge of women, 
 he did not persecute Miss Sydney by his engrossing 
 attention, nor afficher his aim in seeking her society. 
 When questioned by Fitzwarren as to the motive 
 which drew him so often near that young lady, he 
 vv^ould laughingly declare that he only went for the 
 purpose of watching his chance of winning the wager 
 of five hundred. Strathern was too quick-sighted to 
 be imposed on by this excuse, made in his presence ; 
 for he saw that Lord Alexander was exerting every 
 art witli which his satoir faire furnished him to cap- 
 tivate Miss Sydney, but his assiduities created as 
 little alarm in the heart of the lover as the^^ did in- 
 terest in that of the lady to whom they were addressed. 
 The same high sense of the perfections of the fair 
 Louisa which led Strathern to doubt the possibility of 
 his own worthiness to win her, made him feel certain 
 that the worldly-minded and commonplace Lord 
 Alexander Beaulieu was not a rival to be dreaded. 
 But Lord Alexander had none of the diffidence that 
 ever attends true love, and marks real merit. His 
 perseverance, hoAvever, in vain attempts to render 
 himself agreeable to Miss Sydney only served to in- 
 crease her coldness towards him, while his not having 
 yet made her an offer of his hand precluded her from
 
 90 STRATHERN. 
 
 positively dismissing him from the train of suitors, 
 which, like those of the famed Penelope, increased 
 daily, lured on less by her charms than by the fortune 
 which she was reputed to possess. The extent of this 
 train greatly mortified the spinsters of her acquaint- 
 ance and their mammas, and excited in their breasts 
 no slight degree of envy and dislike towards the 
 lovely and amiable girl, who would gladly liave dis- 
 pensed with attentions absolutely irksome to her, and 
 which her good sense taught her to estimate at their 
 just value. 
 
 " I am sure I cannot see what the men find to ad- 
 mire in Miss Sydney," would the Lady Sophia Wel- 
 lerby exclaim to her mother and sister. 
 
 " Nor I neither,"' was sure to be the response of 
 Lady Olivia. 
 
 " She is very insipid, in my opinion, and there is 
 no decided character in her beauty," would Lady 
 Sophia observe. 
 
 " I have no patience with that modern Nimrod, 
 Lord Fitzwarren, who follows her like her shadow, 
 although she vouchsafes not to notice his presence, 
 except by a disdainful glance," the Lady Olivia would 
 remark. 
 
 " You forget that Miss Sydney is an heiress, and 
 that circumstance is quite sufficient to explain the 
 homage she receives. Those who may not be much 
 struck with her beaux yeux find those of her cassette 
 irresistible, and, were she less good-looking than she 
 is, she would be certain of having an equal number of 
 admirers," put in their lady-mother. 
 
 " But Mr. Strathern, the fastidious and rich Mr.
 
 STRATHERN. 91 
 
 Stratliern, cannot be suspected of mercenary motives." 
 
 " No ; nor Lord Fitzwarren, who has so large a 
 fortune that he cannot require hers," replied Lady- 
 Olivia. 
 
 " Don't imagine that because men are rich they are 
 less desirous to mate them with rich wives-" would 
 Lady Wellerby observe. " Money desires to beget 
 money, and there is no man, whatever his wealth may 
 be, who does not wish to see it increased." 
 
 " Then, look at Lord Alexander Beaulieu ; he, too, 
 is paying his court to the heiress !" 
 
 " Poor fellow ! probably his poverty rather than his 
 will consents," and the Lady Olivia deeply sighed at 
 the recollection of certain pressures of the hand given 
 by the said Lord Alexander, some five or six years 
 before, when she had better grounds for the preten- 
 sions, still maintained, of a beauty, than at present, 
 and when her ladyship was but little disposed to throw 
 away her time on a younger son, scantily provided 
 with the goods of fortune. 
 
 " Oh ! it's all fair for younger sons to look out for 
 rich wives, and for portionless girls to endeavour to 
 wed men of fortune," would the mercenary mother 
 say ; an opinion which had due weight and influence 
 with her daughters, whose anxiety to act up to her 
 notions on this point led them to adopt a line of con- 
 duct in reality well calculated to defeat the end it 
 sought to achieve. 
 
 " I foresee," said Lady Wellerby, one morning 
 when her temper, soured by her losses at the card- 
 table the preceding evening, was more than usually 
 irritable, " that this Eoman campaign will be followed
 
 92 STRATHERN. 
 
 by no better results than our winters at Paris and 
 Naples, and our summer at the Baths of Lucca. Your 
 father is as sulky as possible, and swears he will never 
 come abroad aa-ain, I lose nisrht after nidit to that 
 odious Lady Melcombe, or that hateful Mrs. Manvers 
 Royston, who never fail to remind me of the amount of 
 my debts to them until they are paid ; and because I 
 asked Lord Wellerby to make me an advance on my 
 next year's pin-money, he absolutely stormed. If you 
 girls could only manage to secure husbands, our end 
 in coming abroad would be accomplished, and your 
 father would be less vexed at the expense we have 
 incurred." 
 
 " But what can we do, mamma V demanded Lady 
 Sophia, in a tone half angry, half plaintive. 
 
 " Yes, what are we to do, or, rather, what have we 
 left undone V^ exclaimed Lady Olivia. 
 
 " Have I not been sentimental with Mr. Stratheru, 
 and sprightly with Lord Fitzwarren, until tired be- 
 yond measure, by enacting both roles T"" resumed Lady 
 Sophia. 
 
 " And I," said her sister, " have I not talked of 
 antiques ? To enable me to do which, I have bored 
 myself with poring over Heaven only knows how many 
 musty old tomes^ and learned by rote half the guide- 
 books ; and yet Mr. Strathern takes no more interest 
 in my erudite conversation than in my sister''s senti- 
 mentalities.'"* 
 
 " And have I not listened to Lord Fitzwarren's 
 details of his stud, and the superior management of it, 
 with episodes of his favourite mare Fanny, until I have 
 made myself ill by my endeavours to suppress the
 
 STRATHERN. 93 
 
 yawns he excited ; and yet what has all this pro- 
 duced r 
 
 " Do not despair ; it may yet accomplish some end,'" 
 said the wily mother. " I have observed with regret 
 that ever since you discovered that he is wholly 
 engrossed by that insipid girl, Miss Sydney, you 
 have o^rown cold and careless towards him. This is 
 bad policy, very bad policy indeed. You should, mi 
 contraire^ aftect to believe him on the point of marriage 
 with the heiress, by which ruse any of the attentions 
 or flatteries you exercise towards him will appear so 
 perfectly disinterested that he cannot suspect a mo- 
 tive, and will feel a friendly disposition for you ; and 
 when he is refused by Miss Sydney, as he surely will 
 be, who knows but he may turn for consolation to one 
 of you ? I have seen such things happen, by good 
 management, that this would not at all surprise me ; 
 so mind what you are about, and don''t despair. An- 
 other counsel I have to give you is, always praise 
 Miss Sydney in his presence. This will disarm him 
 still more of suspicion, for weak men, and he is one, 
 are always suspicious : whereas any ill-natured com- 
 ments on her person (and I heard you both indulge in 
 some a few evenings ago with the Oswald girls) will 
 make you appear envious and jealous, and cause him 
 to dislike you.'" 
 
 " But, indeed, mamma, it is scarcely possible to 
 have sufficient self-control to praise the looks of a per- 
 son whom we think by no means handsome." 
 
 " Stuff, nonsense ! Don't we every day commend 
 what we really disapprove, and mce mrsd ? Am I not 
 compelled to tell Lady Alice Dunnington that her
 
 94 STRATHERN. 
 
 dull dinners and ennuyeuse soi7'ees are charming, and to 
 thank the deaf and stammermg Prince of Hesselwltzer 
 for the honour and pleasure his company has aftbrded 
 us, when I am almost exhausted by the infliction 1 If 
 persons living in the beau monde are obliged to have 
 recourse to this frequent exercise of self-control de- 
 manded by hienseance^ and practised by every one 
 in a certain circle, without the hope of any greater 
 reward than being considered hien elete et aimable, 
 surely, when so great a prize as a rich and noble hus- 
 band is in view, it is well worth being attended to. 
 Who ever now-a-days gets a husband — that is to say, 
 one worth having — without the exercise of tact to 
 learn his peculiar tastes, and without adopting them, 
 at least for the time present? What made Lady 
 Maria Leslie risk her neck out hunting three days 
 a-week last winter in Northamptonshire, but to win 
 that rich booby, Mr. Sudley Seymour, who never 
 would have proposed for her had she not affected to 
 be as devoted to the chace as himself? What made 
 that pretty Miss Hunter dance herself nearly into a 
 consumption, but to catch Lord Merridale, who, ever 
 since he returned from Russia, thought or dreamt of 
 nothing but the gallopade ? Look at Miss Melville's 
 feats in archery, only practised to aim with unerring- 
 dart at the heart of the stupid Sir Henry Ravenshaw ; 
 and Lady Fanny Harcourt's indefatigable study of 
 music, in order to accompany that melo-maniac, Mr. 
 Torpichen, in his difficult duets, until she made her- 
 self so necessary to him, that he engaged her for a 
 duet through life V 
 
 " But surely, mamma, you don't mean to say that
 
 STRATHERN. 95 
 
 every man only marries because he is lured into wed- 
 lock by some scheming girl, such as you have de- 
 scribed ? " said Lady Sophia. 
 
 " Or," said her sister, " that all those women whom 
 you have named only adopted the pursuits mentioned 
 for the sole purpose of winning husbands V 
 
 "I do positively mean what I have said, and those 
 only who are ignorant of the world would doubt what 
 I have asserted. It is the interest of women to get 
 married, and of men to remain single. Both parties 
 are fully aware of this, and it requires all the tact for 
 which our sex are much more remarkable than the male, 
 to lure these last into the net spread to secure them."' 
 
 Among the English lately arrived at Eome, Mr. 
 Rhymer made his appearance. 
 
 " I left Naples,"' said he, " because I found the 
 society there insupportable, and here, with a few, a 
 very few, exceptions, I find it equally dull and dis- 
 agreeable." 
 
 " Your presence cannot fail to enliven us," observed 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu, winking at one of his friends 
 present. 
 
 " I was not aware that there was anything so mr^ 
 exhilarating in my appearance," replied Mr. Khymer, 
 looking daggers at Beaulieu. "I hear, however," 
 resumed he, "that i/ou require no enlivening, what- 
 ever you may do enlightening, and that you still 
 pursue the fickle Goddess as assiduously in Liiperial 
 Rome as in commercial London." 
 
 "To which of the fickle goddesses do you refer? — 
 for you know that there are two to whom that term is 
 applicable."
 
 9G STRATIIERN. 
 
 " You^ I know, court both, so I leave you to guess 
 which I referred to. A-propos of goddesses, how is 
 the heiress? I hear that a physician is not more 
 punctual in his visits to a rich patient than you are in 
 yours to Miss Sydney." 
 
 " That young lady is, I am happy to say, quite 
 well." 
 
 " I am glad, though surprised, to learn it, but hers 
 must be a remarkably good constitution to support all 
 she has to encounter. I always pity heiresses, and 
 more especially when, as in the present case, they are 
 handsome." 
 
 " May I inquire why they so peculiarly excite your 
 commiseration ?" 
 
 " Who would not feel pity to see a poor girl — no, a 
 rich girl, I should say — hunted dowu by every needy 
 fellow who wants to prop his fallen fortunes by hers, 
 thinking no more of her person or her mind than if 
 neither merited attention ? An ugly heiress must 
 know she is only chosen for her wealth, and is less to 
 be pitied, if, with this knowledge, she risks her happi- 
 ness with a fortune-hunter; but a handsome heiress 
 may indulge the illusion that she is loved for herself, 
 and woe be to her when she discovers, as soon she 
 surely must, the truth !" 
 
 " But may not a handsome heiress be loved for 
 herself?" demanded Lord Alexander Beaulieu, evi- 
 dently piqued by the coups de pattes of the cynical 
 Mr. Rhymer, not one of which had missed its object. 
 
 " Certainly, she may ; but it must only be by a man 
 rich enough to afibrd falling in love, without any view 
 to pecuniary motives, and whose character, no less
 
 STRATHERN. 97 
 
 than his wealth, exenipts him from tlie suspicion of 
 such." 
 
 " Then you think that a man who is not rich cannot 
 love a handsome woman for herself, if she happen to 
 have a large fortune ? Have not poor men eyes to 
 see and hearts to feel beauty, as well as the rich V 
 
 " I deny it not ; but I believe that a poor man, if 
 he have delicate feelings, will avoid heiresses, however 
 great their personal attractions may be ; and, if he be 
 a proud man, will not expose himself to the accusation 
 of being a fortune-hunter — an accusation, in my 
 opinion, peculiarly humiliating to a gentleman." 
 
 So saying, Mr. Rhymer walked away, leaving Lord 
 Alexander Beaulieu vexed, but unchanged in his in- 
 tentions of trying to win the heiress. 
 
 " How I hate that old cynic !" thought the selfish 
 lordling, as he strolled through the Piazza d'Espagne. 
 " His age and infirmities screen him from the correc- 
 tion which his malice so frequently merits, and, aware 
 of his impunity, he thinks himself privileged to annoy 
 all those with whom he comes in contact. But no, not 
 all, for to the rich and great he is as obsequious as 
 he is insolent to those who are not in a position to 
 gratify his ^parvenu taste for grandeur. He is quite 
 capable of prejudicing Mrs. Sydney and her daughter 
 against me, so I must not break with him, though I 
 find the utmost difficulty in restraining my temper 
 when I hear his bitter sarcasms and spiteful insinua- 
 tions. If I should succeed in winning the heiress, 
 how I will vex the old fellow ! He shall never come 
 into my house, I can tell him ; and I will find a hun- 
 dred ways of mortifying him, to avenge my present 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 STRATHERN. 
 
 compelled forbearance. 0, poverty ! how many evils 
 dost thou entail ! and surely the being obliged to submit 
 to insolence from parvenus is not among the least 
 bitter of the trials inflicted by thee. I could, for the 
 nonce, be poetical, and indite a sonnet suggested by 
 that olden inspirer of poetry. Poverty, which has 
 deigned to set the brains of so many attic Avriters to 
 work ; but I have not time to coquet with the Muse 
 to-day, and so I must smooth my brow, enact the 
 amiable to the heiress, and defeat the machinations 
 of my enemies, among whom I have not, my duns 
 excepted, a more spiteful one than old Ehymer. 
 A-propos of duns, I hear from England that mine are 
 more clamorous and vindictive than ever, enraged by 
 my escape from their clutches. What an oversight is 
 it in the leoislature not to have enacted a law for the 
 protection of the persons of the younger sons of the 
 nobility from all law processes. Protection is afforded 
 to peers, who seldom require it ; while we, poor devils, 
 nurtured in a mode that must create a passion for 
 expense, and with small means to defray it, are left 
 exposed to all the evil consequences of indulging in our 
 natural tastes. This oversight really ought to be re- 
 medied, and I must suggest the consideration of it to 
 some of my friends at home." 
 
 Such were the reflections that passed through the 
 mind of Lord Alexander Beaulieu, as he paced up and 
 down the Piazza d'Espagne, not knowing how better 
 to employ his time until the usual hour for paying 
 visits should arrive. He expected also to meet Lord 
 Fitzwarren, on whom he generally fastened himself 
 during a portion of the day, for the sake of sharing
 
 STRATHERN. 99 
 
 his miture de remise^ without beiiin; compelled to hire 
 one for his own use, and who, rather than dine alone, 
 was wont to engage him to dinner, which saved 
 Lord Alexander the expense of that repast, and 
 secured him a much more luxurious one, as well as 
 better wine, than his own funds could provide. But 
 thouo-h content to avail himself of all the advantao-es 
 to be derived from the liberality of his friend, no senti- 
 ment of regard or gratitude towards him existed in the 
 selfish heart of Lord Alexander Beaulieu. His 
 system was to profit by the generosity or weakness of 
 all with whom he associated ; and pertinaciously did he 
 put this system in action. Had any person attempted 
 to prove to him that he ought to be grateful for the 
 hospitality he received, he would have smiled at his 
 simplicity, and asserted that he had incurred no obli- 
 gation, for that Lord Fitzwarren, like many others of 
 his class, only extended his hospitality because he 
 could not bear to be alone. For every other kindness 
 experienced he found some casuistical excuse for feeling 
 no gratitude, and hence cared for no one, whatever 
 might be the benefits received from hira. 
 
 F 2
 
 100 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 His was a power in all he saw 
 Most quickly to detect a flaw : 
 And none he spared ; to foe or friend 
 His censure did alike extend. 
 In courteous phrase to ladies fair 
 He laid their secret errors bare, 
 Commended virtues they had not, 
 And those they truly had, forgot : 
 In short, he was a man of might, 
 To shoot his arrows dipp'd in spite. 
 
 When Lord Alexander Beaulieu called on Mrs. Syd- 
 ney he found Strathern there, looking over some ancient 
 maps of Rome with that lady, while her fair daughter 
 was occupied in transcribing an Italian poem from one 
 of her favourite authors. His visit seemed to afford 
 little pleasure to any of the persons present ; but Mrs. 
 Sydney, with a good breeding of which, however her 
 patience might be tried, she never lost sight, betrayed 
 less than did the others that his presence was disagree- 
 able to her. 
 
 Lord Alexander took a chair near Louisa, and en- 
 deavoured to draw her into conversation, but monosyl- 
 lables were all he could obtain in reply, and, malgre
 
 STRATHERN. 101 
 
 his efforts to enact the agreeable, he found the task 
 a very difficult one with a listener so cold and ab- 
 stracted as the one he was addressing. The emptiness 
 of commonplace chat is never so much felt as when 
 only one person takes a lively part in it. The thousand 
 little trifles which compose the conversation between 
 those who meet at visits, may pass off without their 
 silliness striking one, provided no pause occurs, and 
 that each contributes his or her quota to the general 
 stock of words ; but, when those awkward breaks take 
 place, which prove the total absence of interest in one 
 of the interlocutors to what is passing, the volubility 
 of even the most intrepid havard becomes checked, and 
 he feels that he has not succeeded in his attempts to 
 please. Lord Alexander Beaulieu experienced this 
 disaareeable consciousness on the occasion described, 
 and was thankful when Mrs. Sydney relieved his em- 
 barrassment by addressing a few words to him. 
 
 " I hear that Mr. Rhymer is arrived,'' observed 
 Mrs. Sydney. " Have you seen him, Mr. Stra- 
 thern V 
 
 " Not yet,"" replied he ; " but I dare say I soon 
 shall.'' 
 
 " I have," observed Lord Alexander, " and can 
 assure you that the warm sun of Naples has ripened 
 his growing acrimony most surprisingly. He is now 
 become a perfect misanthrope." 
 
 " No ; that I must deny," said Strathern ; " he is 
 
 only a corrector, and not a hater, of mankind. He 
 
 tells disagreeable truths, careless of the pain they may 
 
 'inflict on those to whom they are addressed, it must 
 
 be owned, and hence is more feared than loved."
 
 102 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Misanthropes never found so good an advocate," 
 observed Mrs. Sydney, " as in a French author of 
 celebrity, who in a recent work asserts that ' la mi- 
 smithropie est im sentiment calomnie. Cest la haine du 
 mensonge. II iiy a pas de misanthropes^ il y a des dmes 
 qui aiment mieiix fuir que feindre? " 
 
 " If Rhymer would h^feindre ou fuir I should for- 
 give him," said Lord Alexander Beaulieu ; " but, as 
 he will do neither, I hold him to be as insupportable 
 in society as children who are permitted to say all they 
 think when admitted to the drawing-room. I have 
 heard the little urchins exclaim, ' Why is Mr. So- 
 and-so lame f or 'Mr. So-and-so so very ugly f causing 
 no less embarrassment to the unfortunate persons so 
 noticed than to the papa and mamma of these tiresome 
 little creatures. They, poor things, know no better, 
 and do not mean to give pain ; but Rhymer is well 
 aware of the endroit sensible of those he wishes to annoy, 
 and the Parthian's dart was not more unerring in its 
 aim than are his sarcasms." 
 
 " They jest at scars who never felt a wound," ob- 
 served Mrs. Sydney, '^ and therefore I may smile at 
 those sometimes inflicted, when not too deep, on the 
 persons selected by Mr. Rhymer, who, I must add, 
 generally aims them only at the foolish or the vain." 
 
 " Nevertheless, mother, do you not think that the 
 privilege he claims of saying disagreeable things dis- 
 turbs the harmony of society ?" demanded Miss Sydney. 
 
 " Perhaps so, my dear Louisa, by making one feel 
 insecure in his presence, and " 
 
 " Mr. Rhymer," said a servant, throwing open the 
 door, and in walked that gentleman.
 
 STRATHERN. 103 
 
 " I only arrived late last night," said he, " and my 
 first visit is to you," and he bowed low on the hand of 
 Mrs. Sydney, and then turned to her fair daughter to 
 repeat the same ceremony. 
 
 "How well you look, ladies ! I was hardly prepared 
 to find you both so blooming." 
 
 " We have neither of us been ill since we came to 
 Italy," observed Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " I did not think that the air of Italy could produce 
 any unsalutary effect on your health ; but, if I might 
 be permitted a bad pun, and a pronunciation adopted 
 by my old friend John Kemble, I should say it was 
 not your room^ but your company, that I thought dan- 
 gerous !" 
 
 " Very flattering to all of us who have the honour 
 of forming a portion of the society of these ladies," re- 
 marked Lord Alexander Beaulieu. 
 
 "I am no flatterer," was the reply of Mr. Rhymer, 
 " and so I fancied you thought this morning, for you 
 looked very much displeased when I left you. I was 
 observing to Lord Alexander Beaulieu that, in my 
 opinion, no man but a rich one should ever fall in love, 
 or imagine himself to be so, with an heiress. I gave 
 my reasons, and, why or wherefore, I cannot divine, 
 he seemed as much disconcerted as if they were ap- 
 plied directly to himself," and Mr. Rhymer glanced 
 somewhat maliciously from Lord Alexander to Miss 
 Sydney. 
 
 " You are in error, if you supposed me to be dis- 
 pleased." 
 
 " So all angry men assert when they are piqued," 
 remarked Mr. Rhymer ; "but, while maintaining the
 
 104 STRATHERN. 
 
 fact of your being displeased, I am quite unconscious 
 of the cause. Perliaps you would enlighten me V 
 
 Lord Alexander affected not to hear him, and 
 changed the subject, by observing that Sir Richard 
 Elsmere had arrived at Rome the previous day. 
 
 " He will be an acquisition to society,"" said Lord 
 Alexander, "for I know no one more spirituel and 
 amusing."" 
 
 "And probably few less estimable,^' observed ^Ir. 
 Rhymer. " I have heard such instances of his want 
 of heart, and his great selfishness, that I have always 
 avoided cultivating his acquaintance.'"* 
 
 "I do not see what right society has to find fault 
 with a man"'s heart, or want of heart,"" replied Lord 
 Alexander Beaulieu, " provided he is agreeable, well- 
 bred, and adds to the agremens of the circle in which 
 he finds himself. His wife or dependants are alone 
 privileged to complain, if he is deficient in those quali- 
 ties which constitute the happiness of domestic life, 
 but to tlie world it ought to be a matter of indiffer- 
 ence.'"* 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mr. Rhymer. " Then you think 
 that, provided a man is clever, polite, and witty, that 
 is all which is required V 
 
 " Yes, all that society requires ; and I think also 
 that, whatever may be the good qualities of the heart 
 of an individual, if he is deficient in that amenity and 
 good breeding on which the agreeability of society 
 depends, he ought to be — and, I am glad to say, is — 
 generally avoided." 
 
 Mr. Rhymer's countenance betrayed his consci- 
 ousness that this last observation was aimed at him,
 
 STRATIIERN. lO^) 
 
 and terrible was the glance of concentrated malice that 
 he cast on Lord Alexander. 
 
 " I am glad, very glad, to hear your opinion on all 
 subjects,'' said he, " and particularly on the requisites 
 to render a man acceptable to society. You, who are 
 so justly esteemed, must be an excellent judge of such 
 a question."' 
 
 " It must be acknowledged," observed Mrs. Sydney, 
 desirous to change a topic that was becoming too per- 
 sonal, " that Sir Richard Elsmere can be very brilliant 
 and entertaining. No one tells a story so well." 
 
 " Yes, so people say. All admit him to be a per- 
 fect story-teller^'''' observed ]Mr. Rhymer, with one of 
 his most sardonic smiles. " He can set the table in a 
 roar too, I hear, when he thinks fit, in spite of tlie 
 decent dignity that pervades good company ; and this, 
 I suppose, is the reason why he is so recherche, for 
 his moral qualities certainly do not entitle him to 
 respect, whatever his friend, Lord Alexander Beaulieu, 
 may think." 
 
 "All I know is, that, after I have heard people 
 proclaim that Elsmere has no heart, is selfish, and 
 not peculiarly strict in his veracity, I have also heard 
 them add — ' but he is so agreeable ! we must engage 
 him to every dinner we wish to pass pleasantly ; ' 
 while, when listening to commendations on the good- 
 ness of hearts of some other men, I have heard their 
 commenders say, ' Oh, So-and-so has the best heart in 
 the world, it is true ; but he is so ill-natured and 
 cynical, and so prone to say disagreeable things, that 
 we must not invite him, lest he spoil our party.'" 
 
 Lord Alexander rose and took his leave when he 
 
 F 5
 
 106 STRATHERN. 
 
 had finished his last speech ; and Mr. Rhymer, burst- 
 ing with anger, called after him as he departed, say- 
 ino- " I fors^ot to mention that the rich widow of a 
 London stockbroker, worth, they say, two plums, 
 arrived last night at my hotel. I thought the intel- 
 ligence might be interesting to you." 
 
 " I do not know why you should think so, but the 
 good-nature of Mr. Rhymer is so proverbial, that no 
 new proof of it ought to surprise me." 
 
 " He seemed by no means as grateful as might be 
 expected," said Mr. Rhymer ; " yet really the news is 
 worth something to a man who has been for the last 
 two years indefatigable in his pursuit of rich women, 
 and who has proposed for so many, that he is known 
 in London by the sobriquet of the Solicitor-general. 
 The lady in question, too — I forget her vulgar name 
 — looks to be precisely the sort of person likely to be 
 caught by a lordling — ill-looking, over-dressed, and 
 self-important ; never was there a more perfect picture 
 of a City parvenue. ' Tell the fellow,' said she, in 
 accents that smacked strongly of the sister country, 
 ' that I wish to be driven all round the town to see 
 the sights."* This speech was addressed to a woman 
 who accompanied her, and who translated it into Ita- 
 lian to the laqiiais de place. Fancy a lady — if I may 
 so far profane the term as to apply it to the person in 
 question — attired in a crimson velvet cloak, trimmed 
 with Russian sable, a velvet bonnet with feathers of 
 the same colour, and a diamond feroniere across a 
 coarse, freckled forehead, which resembles nothing 
 so much as the sunburnt knee of a kilted high- 
 lander."
 
 STRATHERN. 107 
 
 " And this is the person you thought likely to in- 
 terest Lord Alexander Beaulieu ?" said Strathern. 
 
 " Whose fortune I thought likely to interest him ; 
 for, as money is all he thinks of in his matrimonial 
 speculations, why should not the stockbroker's widow 
 suit him as well as any other rich woman V 
 
 " You are severe on him,'"' said Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 "Not so much as he merits, I assure you ; and, 
 after all, I am only wishing to render him a service, 
 by drawing his attention to this female Croesus. So 
 many feathers, and so much velvet and fur, could 
 never be displayed except with the intention of cap- 
 tivating ; and as, according to the vulgar phrase, first 
 come first served, I desired that Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu should lose no time in being presented to 
 her. Who knows but he may become the successor 
 of the deceased stockbroker !" 
 
 " I can't think so ill of Beaulieu,'' said Strathern, 
 "as to believe that he would contract such an al- 
 liance." 
 
 " And I believe him capable of forming even a 
 more objectionable one for filthy lucre. The conduct 
 of such men should be exposed, and particularly to 
 ladies, who have not the same opportunities of be- 
 coming acquainted with the real characters of men 
 that we have, who see examples every day how the 
 plausibility of such fortune-hunters impose on the 
 many." 
 
 Finding that Mr. Rhymer was determined to make 
 a long visit, Strathern withdrew, not, it must be 
 owned, without some fears that he^ too, in his turn, 
 would come in for the censure of the cynic, though
 
 Q 
 108 STRATHERN. 
 
 unconscious of having done any thing to incur it. 
 Mr. Khymer, however, had no inclination to speak ill 
 of him ; au cmitraire^ he entertained a good opinion of 
 Strathern, as one of the few young men who treated 
 him with respect ; but even had he disliked him, he 
 would on the present occasion have forborne to express 
 it, lest, after his attack on Lord Alexander Beaulieu, 
 the ladies might think him a universal speaker of evil. 
 
 "' How do you like Mr. Strathern T"* asked 
 Mr. Rhymer, looking searchingly at Mrs. Sydney 
 and her daughter while he asked the question. 
 
 " I think very highly of him," replied Mrs. Syd- 
 ney. 
 
 " And you, fair lady, what do you say \ '' 
 
 " He seems amiable, and is sensible and agreeable," 
 was the answer, but a bright blush which suftused the 
 delicate cheek of the speaker convinced Mr, Rhymer 
 tliat she spoke less highly of him than she felt. 
 
 " Seems ! I know not seems. He is a very supe- 
 rior young man, I can assure you," resumed he. " I 
 liave known him from his boyhood, having continually 
 met him during his vacations at poor Lord Argentyn's, 
 who often dwelt on his numerous fine qualities to me. 
 A proof that he had not overrated them is, that, not- 
 withstanding the endeavours to spoil him made'by a 
 portion of designing husband-hunting persons of your 
 sex, and the selfish, dupe-hunting portion of mine, he 
 has committed himself neither with the one nor the 
 other, and has equally steered clear of those flirtations 
 with married women, into which so many men of his 
 age are but too prone to fall on their first entering 
 what is called fashionable life. Strathern is neither a
 
 STRATHERN. 109 
 
 gamester nor a keeper of race-horses, two rare merits 
 in so young and so rich a man. He has but one de- 
 fect that I know of — he is too good-looking — but per- 
 haps you ladies may not consider that to be one,**' and 
 he looked archly at the fair Louisa, who, at that mo- 
 ment, notwithstanding his abuse of Lord Alexander, 
 was w^ondering how people could think Mr. Rhymer 
 was given to say ill-natured or disagreeable things. 
 
 " And so I find Lady Wellerby and her daughters 
 are here, seeking whom they may {not devour) but 
 entrap into a marriage," said Mr. Rhymer. " When 
 people set traps," resumed he, " they should conceal 
 them ; but Lady Wellerby, and her young— no, not 
 young — ladies, let theirs be seen as plainly as the 
 notices set up in parks and preserves in England, in- 
 scribed, ' beware of spring guns and man-traps set 
 here," and with the same effect, for most men avoid 
 the snare." 
 
 " You are severe on Lady Wellerby," observed 
 Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " No, indeed ; I am only honest enough to say 
 what every one else thinks^ but have not my aimable 
 franchise to utter. That woman thinks of nothing on 
 earth but getting her daughters married. She cares 
 not whether the men be good or bad, invested with 
 every virtue, or tainted by every vice — all she con- 
 siders is that they be rich, and willing to make large 
 settlements, and a thought of the future happiness 
 of her daughters never enters her mind. She, finding 
 her stupid lord very parsimonious, imagines that 
 wealth, and a generous expenditure of it, constitute 
 the real enjoyment of life, and if she can secure this
 
 110 STRATHERN. 
 
 for her daughters, she will believe she has well per- 
 formed her maternal duties towards them." 
 
 " Are you going to Mrs. Vernon's party to-night f 
 said Mrs. Sydney, desirous of changing the subject. 
 
 " What, in Heaven's name, should I do there ? 
 Look on while the ladies at the card-table show their 
 tempers, and not their good breeding? No, I avoid 
 my whist-playing countrywomen as carefully as I 
 eschew the gambling-houses in London, and for the 
 same reason I dislike seeing the worst sides of human 
 nature. You smile. Miss Sydney, and look incre- 
 dulous ; nevertheless, I do hate having the bad pas- 
 sions called into action in my presence, and, above all, 
 in the persons of your sex, who certainly never appear 
 to such disadvantao^e as at a card-table." 
 
 " But at Mrs. Vernon's you will find conversation 
 as well as cards. The young people sing and play, 
 and the elderly, who, like you and I, do not play 
 cards, converse together." 
 
 " Were I sure that I could find a place near you^ I 
 should be disposed to go to Mrs. Vernon's, but as that 
 might be difficult, if not impossible, I dare not ven- 
 ture. Fancy me fastened by Lady Henry Mortimer, 
 and condemned to hear — for the hundredth time, at 
 least — the history of her rheumatism. How it began, 
 what she felt at its commencement, how she caught 
 it, what the doctors said, what she replied, with 
 episodes on the cruelty of people in London who icill 
 fill their rooms to suffocation, and then open their 
 windows to cool them, a process which she declares 
 has caused all her sufferino-s. Or imao'ine me seated 
 by Mrs. Osborn Henley, listening hon gre mal gre to
 
 STRATHERN. Ill 
 
 the account of poor dear Mr. Osborn Henley's gout, 
 and what he tried, and was recommended to tr^^, for 
 its cure, and what reheved, and what did not relieve 
 him, and what she endures at witnessing his paroxysms, 
 and how she fears that the warm mud baths of Italy, 
 and the cold water at Griifenberg, are equally ineffi- 
 cacious in the cure of gout, and her hopes that the 
 malady is not hereditary. Or, if I escape these ladies, 
 may I not be thrown by my evil stars into a chair 
 near Lady Alicia Borrowdale, who will tell me of the 
 surprising beauty of her eldest girl, now in her seventh 
 year, the wonderful talent of her boy, who was very 
 near getting the prize at school, last examination, and 
 the delightful precocity of her last girl, who, though 
 only two years and a half old, can say ' Pa-pa,' and 
 ' Mam-ma,' almost plainly. No ; I am better at 
 home, with a book and my own thoughts, than in 
 such parties, where my spleen is excited by the follies 
 or vices of those I meet. But I have paid you an un- 
 conscionable visit, fair ladies, and will now release 
 you, by saying farewell." 
 
 " He asserts that he hates having the bad passions 
 called into action in his presence," said Louisa Sydney, 
 " yet scruples not to lay bare the follies and ridicules 
 of all his acquaintances. I wonder what he calls this 
 propensity to censure? I should decidedly class it 
 among the evil passions he denounces ; and I think 
 that playing cards, though a waste of time, and 
 showing ill temper while doing so, betrays a want of 
 good breeding, yet both are less blameable than the 
 constant habit of exposing the errors of all persons he 
 happens to encounter." 
 
 '^
 
 1 1 2 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Mr. Stratliern was an exception ; Mr. Rhymer 
 did not attack him," observed Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " As he spared no one else of whom he spoke, I 
 hardly know whether his praise of Mr. Strathern is 
 complimentary." 
 
 " You may be assured it is, Louisa, for never was 
 Mr. Rhymer known to praise any one who was not 
 remarkable for the possession of good qualities." 
 
 " I admit that he is clever and well-informed, and 
 that he can make himself agreeable, but his ill-nature 
 displeases me ; and when I detect myself laughing at 
 his bitter 7n6ts^ I feel ashamed of myself." 
 
 " And you are right, my dear child, for it is the 
 lauffhino- at such ill-natured remarks that encourao:es 
 persons to make them, who frequently only do so for 
 the sake of amusing people, and showing their own 
 talent." 
 
 A few days after the interview with Rhymer, at 
 Mrs. Sydney's, Strathern sat in his room, musing on 
 the fair Louisa, who now occupied all his thoughts, 
 when he was disturbed by a visit from Lord Fitz- 
 warren. Latterly he had seen much less of this 
 young nobleman, whether from accident or design, he 
 could not tell, and the truth was, he w^as too much 
 pleased with the eftect to examine into the cause. 
 
 " Strathern, I want you to do me a service," said 
 Lord Fitzwarren. "Somehow or other, I don't think 
 I gain ground with Miss Sydney. She grows more 
 skittish and shy every day, so I want to bring her 
 to the point, for it's no use losing my time in dancing- 
 attendance after her, is it ?" 
 
 " I really think not," was the answer.
 
 STRATHERN. 113 
 
 " Well, what I want you to do is, to sound her on 
 the subject." 
 
 " Do you mean me to propose to her for you V 
 
 " No, not quite that, but I wish to avoid the double 
 annoyance of being refused, and having to pay that 
 
 d d fellow, Axy Beaulieu, five hundred. You 
 
 can just ask, in the course of conversation, what she 
 thinks of me, and discover whether a proposal from 
 me would be likely to be accepted or noto'' 
 
 " I really could not put such a question, Fitzwarren, 
 and even if I could, it would not be a fair way of 
 getting out of your bet." 
 
 " It was a deuced stupid wager to make, and 1 now 
 wish I had let it alone ; but who the devil could have 
 dreamt that a young fellow with forty thousand a 
 year, and not worse-looking than his neighbours (and 
 Fitzwarren stole a look at himself in the opposite 
 mirror), would be treated as coolly as I have been by 
 Miss Sydney ? Why, there's the Wellerby girls, and 
 I begin to think they are not so much amiss, they'd 
 jump at me if I was to make either of them an ofter. 
 Devilish good-natured creatures they are, too, for 
 now that they know that I am hard hit with Miss 
 Sydney, and suppose that I am to marry her, they 
 are just as civil to me as they were before, when I 
 used to fancy that all their civility arose from their 
 hopes of catching me. W^hy, Olivia is never tired of 
 listening to me, when I tell her about my stud, and 
 asks me a thousand questions relative to them. She's 
 a devilish sensible girl, I can tell you, and understands 
 the points of a horse remarkably well. I found her 
 the other day copying a plaster cast of a nag, and
 
 114 STRATHERN. 
 
 very well she did it, by Jove ! and she said she only 
 wished she had a living model to copy. Yes ; and 
 the sister, Sophy, too, is a deuced good sort of girl. 
 And when, the other morning, the Melbrook girls 
 were saying that they saw nothing so remarkable in 
 Miss Sydney, Sophy immediately took up arms for 
 her — yes, by Jove ! she did — and swore — no, she did 
 not swear, she only asserted — that Miss Sydney was 
 the most perfect beauty she ever saw, and Olivia 
 joined in, and said that Miss Sydney was not a bit 
 vain or conceited, though she is so beautiful. Now, I 
 call that devilish good-natured, and it made me like 
 the Wellerby girls better than I ever thought I 
 should !" 
 
 Strathern could not suppress a smile at the sim- 
 plicity of Fitzwarren, who, notwithstanding his de- 
 clared tendresse for Miss Sydney, seemed well disposed 
 to be consoled for any disappointment, in engaging her 
 esteem, by the flatteries of two young ladies, whom, 
 a short time before, he regarded with a sentiment 
 nearer approaching to dislike than good-will. 
 
 " What would you advise me to do, Strathern ? " 
 asked Fitzwarren. " I can't bear letting that fellow 
 Beaulieu win my money." 
 
 " But I don't see how you can avoid it ; for, if you 
 do not propose, he will consider the wager forfeited ; 
 and if you do, the chances are you will be refused ; so 
 in either case you will lose." 
 
 " By Jove, it's a puzzling case ! is it not ? If I 
 don't propose, it's like letting his horse walk over the 
 course ; and if I do, I am sure to be distanced. 
 Neither are pleasant. But, hang me ! I prefer paying
 
 STRATHERN. 115 
 
 Axy Beaulieu, without subjecting myself to the 
 annoyance of a rejection, which will be blazed all over 
 Rome, and having the Wellerby girls and all the rest 
 of the set know that I was refused, which always 
 makes a man look so devilish foolish. Yes, I'll pay 
 the five hundred, and have an end of it." 
 
 And away went Lord Fitzwarren, with the air of a 
 man whose mind is relieved by having come to a fixed 
 decision. 
 
 Two days after Lord Fitzwarren had paid the for- 
 feited wager to Lord Alexander Eeaulieu, the latter 
 wrote a studied epistle to Mrs. Sydney, enclosing one 
 for her fair daughter, in which he laid himself (fortune 
 he had little to offer) at her feet, as he phrased it. 
 Mrs. Sydney was never more surprised than when she 
 received his letter, but the young lady was even more 
 astonished. Certain as she felt that she had never 
 given him the least encouragement, she could not 
 acquit him of betraying a very unusual degree of 
 vanity and self-confidence, in thus, on so slight an 
 acquaintance, venturing to make such a proposal. 
 
 " You see, mother, that it is not without reason 
 that I treat the younger portion of our male acquaint- 
 ance with such reserve," said Louisa, " when, even in 
 spite of my coldness to them, I am thus assailed. Who 
 would be an heiress, to be tormented by every de- 
 signing fortune-hunter one encounters — men, whom 
 no coldness can repel, no disdain make sensible of the 
 utter hopelessness of their addresses ever being made 
 acceptable !" 
 
 " These proposals annoy me more than I can tell 
 you, my dear child, because I fear they will have the
 
 116 STRATHERN. 
 
 evil effect of confirming in you the belief I have taken 
 such pains to eradicate. Be assured that, although 
 some men may be influenced wholly by mercenary mo- 
 tives in seeking to win a young woman of large for- 
 tune, all are not so base, and you will injure, if not 
 destroy, your own chance of happiness by indulging 
 such suspicions. Fancy how a high-minded and dis- 
 interested man, who loved you for yourself alone, would 
 feel wounded and insulted if he found himself confounded 
 with the mercenary herd who flock around an heiress.'"* 
 
 Mrs. Sydney's thoughts were on Strathern as she 
 spoke. With all the quickness peculiar to fond mo- 
 thers, she saw from the first that he admired her 
 daughter, and hoped his admiration would, on acquaint- 
 ance, ripen into a deeper sentiment. She had marked, 
 wdth pain, the chilling reserve with which Louisa met 
 his advances towards a more familiar intercourse than 
 was permitted to the other young men who sought to 
 make themselves aoreeable to her, and was ofrieved that 
 no distinction was made between him so really deserv- 
 ino; of favour, and those who had so much less claim 
 to it. 
 
 With a thousand fine qualities, Louisa Sydney had 
 one defect, and that was more an acquired than a na- 
 tural one. It was suspicion, engendered by a sensibi- 
 lity, a besoin cTetre aime^ and loved for herself alone, 
 that made her doubt whether the circumstance of her 
 beins: an heiress mio^lit not shut her out for ever from 
 this blessing. With a little vanity, and self-confidence 
 in her own charms, this painful doubt might never have 
 entered her mind ; but Louisa was a proud, not a vain, 
 woman, and her pride, no less than her feminine deli-
 
 STRATHERN. 117 
 
 cacy, revolted at the notion of being regarded only as 
 one to be courted for her wealth. In short, the woman 
 was jealous of the heiress, and gladly would she have 
 resigned her splendid fortune for a competency that 
 would preclude the possibility of suspicion of her being 
 wooed for her gold. Her mother was too fondly at- 
 tached to her, and had studied her character too well, 
 not to have observed this defect, and not to have used 
 every exertion to vanquish it. Her efforts might have 
 been more successful, had not the crowd of suitors who 
 flocked around the heiress confirmed her in her suspi- 
 cion. Hence the reserve and chilling coldness, adopted 
 by her towards her admirers, and which, in the case 
 of several of them, as well as in that of Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu, having failed to prevent their pushing their 
 presumption so far as to demand her hand, only served 
 to confirm her doubts. 
 
 Often was Mrs. Sydney on the point of expressing 
 her high opinion of Strathern, and of pointing out that 
 he^ at least, could never be suspected of mercenary 
 motives, his own large fortune exempting him from 
 any necessity for such. A moment's reflection, how- 
 ever, taught her that it was wiser to let her daughter 
 learn from others the position filled by Strathern in 
 his own country, and the high estimation in which he 
 was held by all whose opinions were valuable, than to 
 have the air of forcino: Louisa's attention towards him. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney's wedded life had been one of unbroken 
 happiness, as far as regarded the mutual affection, 
 which had never known a change, between her and 
 her excellent husband. Married in her seventeenth 
 year, she became the joyful mother of a son ere she
 
 118 STRATHERN. 
 
 had numbered her eighteenth, an event ^yhich, if pos- 
 sible, increased the affection of Mr. Sydney. Two 
 years after she gave birth to Louisa, and from that 
 period her felicity had been uninterrupted, until the 
 sudden death of her husband, occasioned by the burst- 
 ing of his gun when out shooting, made a fatal breach 
 in it. The fond wife was walking towards a wood, 
 where she knew he was enjoying the sports of the 
 field, when she met the procession bearing his lifeless 
 body to his late happy home. The shock nearly de- 
 stroyed her, and for many months her life was despaired 
 of ! Time, that worker of miracles, that only healer 
 of broken hearts, achieved its usual conquest over hers. 
 Religion, and her love for her children, led her to en- 
 deavour to forget " that such things were, and were 
 most sweet,"" as a doting husband who sympathised in 
 her tastes, who shared her joys, who made her life a 
 continued scene of happiness, and with whom she looked 
 forward to descend into the vale of years, still cherished 
 and cared for, until at last they should sink into the 
 grave together — all this happiness had fled for ever ; all 
 these hopes had vanished ; yet she must live on until it 
 pleased the Almighty to reunite her to him, so fondly 
 loved, so deeply mourned. She must dwell in the abode 
 where they had been so blest ; must behold his vacant 
 chair, must weep over the pillow on which his dear 
 head had reposed, and must look forward to see hours, 
 days, weeks, months, and years roll away in dreary, 
 hopeless widowhood. She vowed never to give him a 
 successor in her affections, henceforth to be devoted 
 wholly to her children ; and well did she keep her 
 determination, although, in after-years, many had been
 
 STRATHERN. 119 
 
 the attempts made to induce lier to change it. Still 
 young, handsome, and rich, people could not under- 
 stand why Mrs. Sydney refused so many of what are 
 called unexceptionable offers. Her neighbours foretold 
 that she would not always remain so inexorable ; but, 
 as year after year passed away, they began to think 
 they had been wrong in their predictions, and shook 
 their heads, and hoped her children would repay her 
 for the sacrifice she had made for their sakes. But, in 
 rejecting all matrimonial overtures, Mrs. Sydney had 
 not made any sacrifice. Her heart could know no 
 second love, and, true to the memory of the first, she 
 shrunk from the very thoughts of another marriage, or 
 of giving a step-father to her children. Her son, in 
 whom she traced the image of his lost parent, as well as 
 many of his fine and noble qualities, had only reached 
 his fifteenth year, when a brain-fever put a period to 
 his existence. Who shall paint the anguish of the 
 dotino: and bereaved mother at this cruel blow ! The 
 deep wound inflicted twelve years before seemed to 
 open and bleed afresh at this new and terrible stroke 
 of affliction. Her health suffered so severely that her 
 physicians ordered her to remove into a warmer cli- 
 mate, and she and her daughter, then in her thirteenth 
 year, went to pass the winter in Italy. 
 
 It was fortunate for Mrs. Sydney that in the un- 
 ceasing care and attention bestowed on her daughter's 
 education her mind was drawn away from the continual 
 contemplation of the causes of sorrow she had endured. 
 She felt the necessity of occupation, and some strong 
 and engrossing interest, to keep her from dwelling too 
 much on the past 5 and with this conviction she parted
 
 120 STRATHERN. 
 
 from tlie governess who had hitherto assisted her in 
 the education of Louisa, and devoted herself wholly to 
 the task. It required no little exertion of self-control 
 to abide by this wise resolution, as all who have expe- 
 rienced grief will acknowledge ; for there is a positive 
 fascination in the indulgence of sorrow, which it is most 
 difficult to break through, and many a fine intellect 
 has been impaired by its influence. It seems like infi- 
 delity towards the dear departed to find consolation 
 for his loss, and his memory is cherished with a fond- 
 ness that renders the mourner more prone to look 
 back to the happier past, when blessed with his pre- 
 sence, than patiently to support the actual present, or 
 anticipate the dreary future. 
 
 The duty she had undertaken w^as one not to be 
 neglected, and often did the devoted mother rise after 
 a sleepless night from her tear-stained pillow, to give 
 her morning lessons to her daughter, when one with a 
 less firm sense of the importance of the task she had 
 undertaken would have resigned herself to the selfish 
 indub'ence of re^rret. This couras^eous exertion in 
 time brought its own reward. Mrs. S^^dney gradu- 
 ally, though slowly, recovered her peace of mind ; and, 
 while instilling those principles into the ductile one of 
 Louisa which had formed her own best consolation 
 under the trials with which it had pleased the Al- 
 mighty to afilict her, she felt she was laying the surest 
 foundation for the future happiness of her child.
 
 STRATHERN. 121 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Beware suspicion — let it not intrude 
 
 Into thy breast ; 'twill poison all thy joys, 
 
 And tear asunder every tender tie 
 
 That love and friendship form to sweeten life." 
 
 The change of climate prov^ so salutary to the 
 health of Mrs. Sydney and her daughter, that, although 
 the former would have wished to return and establish 
 herself altogether in Endand, she still continued so 
 delicate that she was only able to remain in her native 
 country during the summer months, which she made 
 it a point of duty to do ; but, though absent from 
 home in the inclement season, the poor there were not 
 forgotten, and her charities, administered through the 
 hands of the rector of the parish and his excellent wife, 
 flowed as liberally and constantly as if the kind donor 
 were not absent. 
 
 The death of her brother rendered Louisa Sydney 
 the heiress to a very large estate (charged onlj with 
 four thousand a year to her mother) and a consider- 
 able sum in the funds, which, owing to the long mi- 
 nority, increased yearly. Mrs. Sydney feared that 
 these possessions, however they might add to the 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 STRATHERN. 
 
 importance of her daughter in a worldly point of 
 view, were not calculated to insure her chance of hap- 
 piness ; for she, like many unambitious and kind- 
 hearted mothers, thought more of seeing her child 
 happily than greatly wedded, and trembled lest her 
 high-minded and lovely daughter might become the 
 prey of some mercenary man of fashion urged to 
 repair his broken fortune by her splendid one. While 
 guarding against the chance of such a misfortune, 
 Mrs. Sydney felt the necessity of preventing, if pos- 
 sible, the mind of her daughter from imbibing any of 
 the suspicions so apt to be engendered, while adopting 
 the caution dictated by prudence. Unfortunately, 
 however, an old and faithful servant, who had never 
 left the family since she had performed the functions 
 of nurse to Mr. Sydney, who had been placed about 
 the person of his daughter from her birth, and who 
 now enacted the part oi femme de chamhre to that 
 young lady, defeated the desire and care of Mrs. Syd- 
 ney on this point. 
 
 Mrs. Murray, for so was the nurse called, loved her 
 young lady almost to idolatry, and believed she was 
 giving an excellent proof of her attachment when she 
 was instilling into her pure and artless mind suspi- 
 cions that never else could have found entrance there. 
 She would dwell with never-tiring energy on the dan- 
 gers to which heiresses were exposed from the selfish 
 and the designing, and the little chance there existed 
 of even the fairest amongst that doomed class ever 
 being loved for herself. She would sigh, nay, even 
 weep, as she poured into the guileless ear of Louisa 
 narratives founded on the fates of the heiresses who,
 
 STRATHERN. 123 
 
 as she related, had been lured into marriage by some 
 gay deceiver, who feigned a flame never felt, and who, 
 when the fatal knot was tied with the tonsrue which 
 
 o 
 
 could not be untied by the teeth, threw off the mask, 
 and tyrannized over the unhappy dupe he had made, 
 lavishing her fortune in the indulgence of his own 
 selfish pleasures and vices, and leaving her a victim to 
 his neglect. 
 
 Such tales, often repeated, sunk deep into the breast 
 of Louisa Sidney ; yet her generous nature struggled 
 against the suspicions instilled into her ear by the 
 nurse, and often prompted her to doubt that men 
 could be so base, or that all heiresses could be doomed 
 to such fates as those recorded by her " good Murray ;'' 
 and she would say — 
 
 " But there surely must be exceptions. A poor 
 man might love without mercenary motives, and men 
 who have large and unimpaired fortunes of their own 
 might love and wed a rich w^oman without any view to 
 her wealth." 
 
 " Alas ! no, my dear young lady ; poor men are 
 ever swayed by the desire of wealth, and even the 
 rich seek riches as ardently as do the impoverished ; 
 and the most beautiful ladies, when they are heiresses, 
 find, when too late, that they are never loved for 
 themselves.'^ 
 
 Such impressions, conveyed while the ductile mind 
 of Louisa was most susceptible of receiving indelible 
 ones, and while her reason was not sufliciently ma- 
 tured to repel them, produced precisely the effect 
 which her mother most dreaded. She became cold, 
 reserved, and guarded. With a thousand generous 
 
 g2
 
 124 STRATHERN. 
 
 and noble feelinirs in her own breast, which miofht 
 have taiio^ht her to beheve in the existence of similar 
 ones in the hearts of others, she saw in every man 
 w^ho sought to please her a mercenary suitor who 
 thought only of her wealth, and she spurned the ho- 
 mage which she supposed to be based on such un- 
 worthy motives. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney discovered, with deep regret and sur- 
 prise, the impression made on the mind of her daughter ; 
 but the discovery was, alas ! made when too late wholly 
 to eradicate the error. She decided, after much re- 
 flection bestowed on the subject, that it would be wiser 
 to let time work its gradual influence in removing this 
 defect than by dwelling on it, by argument, perhaps 
 to increase it ; for the fond mother was not so far 
 blinded by maternal love as to be insensible to the 
 fact that a spice of obstinacy sometimes exhibited itself 
 in the character of her dear Louisa, betrayed more 
 through a pertinacity in retaining her opinions than a 
 courageousness in defending them. She hoped much 
 from the effect to be produced by the personal qualities 
 of the suitor who should first captivate her daughter's 
 heart ; and with this hope she soothed her own mind, 
 and left unruffled that of Louisa by not referring to 
 the topic. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney was naturally rather of an indolent 
 disposition, the result, probably, of a languid tem- 
 perament and delicate health, which, requiring quiet 
 and repose, induced a careful avoidance of all that 
 would militate against the enjoyment of those bless- 
 ings. Hence, her daughter early learned to emanci- 
 pate herself from all mental restraint with regard to
 
 STRATHERN. 125 
 
 her opinions, although her tender affection for and obe- 
 dience to her mild and amiable mother precluded the 
 possibility of her entering into any thing like discus- 
 sions with her parent, who, experiencing from her 
 child an invariable and affectionate attention, little 
 suspected that on one point their sentiments and opi- 
 nions were, wholly opposed. Open as day, and full 
 of confidence in the worthiness of others, Mrs. Sydney's 
 was a nature that, knowing no guile, suspected none. 
 And such, probably, would Louisa have been, had not 
 the narrow-minded but well-intentioned Murray in- 
 fused suspicions into her youthful breast ; and, although 
 the natural nobleness and generosity of her heart some- 
 times triumphed over this acquired defect, it at others 
 exerted a sway, the evidence of which pained and dis- 
 pleased her mother. 
 
 Many as were the admirers which the beauty and 
 talents of her daughter attracted around her, Stra- 
 thern was the only one whom Mrs. Sydney deemed 
 worthy to aspire to the possession of her hand, or 
 whom she thought calculated to remove the suspicion, 
 which she now but too plainly saw had crept into 
 Louisa's mind, of the mercenary views of those who 
 sought to please her. His character had borne the 
 inquiries she had made, and his taste and acquire- 
 ments led her to believe that he, who had at so early 
 an age developed such fine qualities, and avoided the 
 follies and vices into which so many of his contempo- 
 raries had recklessly plunged, could not fail to become 
 a distinguished member of society, and a man into 
 whose care the happiness of a youthful and beautiful 
 woman could be safely confided. With this conviction,
 
 126 STRATHERN. 
 
 she had noticed with pleasure his admiration of her 
 daughter, before Louisa herself had remarked it, but 
 she carefully abstained from revealing her thoughts on 
 this subject to her, lest she should awaken the suspi- 
 cions to which every new admirer was subjected, be- 
 fore time had been given to Strathern to make the 
 favourable impression which would combat them. 
 Mrs. Sydney, therefore, was always ready to welcome 
 and converse with him, while Louisa sat apart, pur- 
 suing her avocations of painting or embroidering as if 
 he were not present, and only dropping in a few words 
 in the animated conversation going on, when appealed 
 to by either of the interlocutors engaged in it. But 
 though nearly a silent listener, she was not an un- 
 mindful one. The justice and high-mindedness of 
 Strathern's sentiments, drawn out by her mother'^s 
 remarks, rather than spontaneously displayed, struck 
 and pleased her, and she would sometimes express a 
 dissent from their opinions, merely for the pleasure of 
 being refuted by him, who possessed the happy art of 
 convincing the reason, without ever alarming the 
 amour propre of those with whom he differed. If 
 Strathern asked permission to look at the drawing on 
 which she was engaged, she was surprised to hear 
 him, unlike all her other male acquaintance, point out 
 some defects, and suggest an improvement, wdiile they 
 could only discover perfections, and express the most 
 exaggerated praise. Nevertheless, though the progress 
 Strathern was making in her esteem was sure, it was 
 slow, so slow that he was often tempted to abandon the 
 pursuit, which held forth so little prospect of being 
 crowned with ultimate success ; but so strong was the
 
 STRATHERN. 127 
 
 power which this lovely creature exercised over him, 
 that he could not tear himself from her presence. 
 
 Nor would Louisa have seen him depart without 
 feelings of regret never previously experienced by her 
 for the absence of any of his sex. She had grown to 
 expect him at a certain hour, to know his footstep, 
 and to feel her heart beat quicker at his approach ; 
 and thouorh she would have died rather than that he 
 
 o 
 
 should learn the state of her feelings, or that her 
 mother should divine them, she was conscious that 
 they originated not in a mere girlish fancy, and that 
 it would be no easy task for her to subdue them, if, on 
 a more intimate acquaintance, such a measure should 
 be found necessary. 
 
 It has been said that the feelings of queens born to 
 reign — not queen-consorts — differ in many respects 
 from those of other women, and in none so much as in 
 the doubts and fears experienced when first they feel 
 the tender passion. Accustomed to empire, they are 
 disposed to be impatient when made sensible that they^ 
 who hitherto had influenced the destinies of those 
 around them, are now dependant for happiness on 
 another — that other^ perhaps, not always so smitten 
 by the attractions of the woman as dazzled by the 
 rank of the queen. How many anxieties and fears are 
 such a position calculated to excite, each poisoning 
 the first sense of enjoyment which love awakens in a 
 youthful breast ! Heiresses to great fortunes may be 
 likened to queens in this respect, and the very wealth 
 so desired and envied, and which can confer so many 
 gratifications, exempts them from the pure and un- 
 alloyed happiness reserved to the portionless maiden,
 
 128 STRATHERN. 
 
 who feels secure that she is chosen and loved for her- 
 self alone. 
 
 " I will closely observe him, learn to know his real 
 character and disposition," said Louisa Sydney to 
 herself in the privacy of her chamber ; " and if I find 
 them all that I could wish, and that myself, and not 
 my fortune, is the object which attracts him, then will 
 I permit him to see that I am not indifferent to his 
 attentions." 
 
 But then came the doubt whether these attentions 
 were directed to her^ and whether they were not wholly 
 paid to her mother ; and this doubt inflicted a pang. 
 
 " Mamma is still very handsome," said Louisa, and 
 she sighed while she made the admission ; " and she 
 is not yet too old to inspire the tender passion," and 
 she sighed still more deeply. " She is considerably 
 younger than Lady L. or Lady M., who still hold 
 hearts captive. What if he should be in love with 
 her^ while I, vain fool as I have been, was imagining 
 that he only played the agreeable to her in order to 
 conciliate me ! Yes, it is, it must be so." 
 
 And a new pang made itself felt in the breast of 
 Louisa, as she retraced the long and interesting con- 
 versations and the animated looks and smiles which 
 took place almost daily between her mother and 
 Strathern. These thoughts preyed on her mind, and 
 gave a pensive air to her countenance as she entered 
 the breakfast-room, with cheeks unusually pallid, the 
 morning after this alarming doubt had first presented 
 itself to her imaoination. She cauo-ht herself fre- 
 quently, during the matinal repast, looking at her 
 mother J and, as she marked the smoothness and
 
 STRATHERX. 129 
 
 delicacy of her face, the brilliancy of her eyes, the 
 silken texture and luxuriance of her hair, and the 
 whiteness of her teeth, she admitted to herself that it 
 was nothing strange that such a woman should still 
 achieve conquests. 
 
 " But he is so young," thought Louisa, " that a 
 preference, which, in a man of a similar age to 
 mamma's might seem natural enough, in liim appears 
 somewhat extraordinary, more especially when a 
 daughter of my years " — and for the moment she was 
 disposed to think herself arrived at very mature ones 
 — " is present to remind him of the disparity that 
 exists between him and the object of his tendresse.'''' 
 
 " You are thoughtful to-day, dearest," said Mrs. 
 Sydney. 
 
 " Am I, mamma ! I was not aware of it ;" and a 
 rosy blush betrayed the disingenuousness of this 
 speech. 
 
 " I begin to think you are tired of Rome, Louisa, 
 and if so, I am ready to leave it when you like." 
 
 " No, mamma, I assure you I am not at all tired 
 of Rome ; au contraire^ I prefer it to all other parts of 
 Italy. I like its grave aspect, its ruins, its matchless 
 Vatican, and its glorious St. Peter's. I dislike nothing 
 in the Eternal City but the balls, dinners, and soirees 
 introduced into it by our compatriots, who seem to 
 forget they are not in London, and pursue the same 
 dull and heartless round, of what they misname plea- 
 sure, that they follow there." 
 
 " You are becoming quite a philosopher, dearest ; 
 but, to confess the truth, I, too, disapprove of the 
 plan adopted by the English, of leading precisely the 
 
 g5
 
 130 STRATHERN. 
 
 same mode of existence in a city calculated to awaken 
 such serious reflections as this does, as they pursue 
 during the saturnalia of a London season, when, 
 emerging from what they call the dull routine of a 
 country life, they plunge into the gaieties of the me- 
 tropolis. To get partners to make up their rubbers at 
 whist seems to be the whole object of ladies of a cer- 
 tain age, as to secure partners for life is the sole aim 
 of the young ones. These objects I should think 
 might be more easily accomplished at home, and it 
 does appear very incongruous to see persons so insen- 
 sible to the scene around them.'" 
 
 " Thank Heaven, however, you, mamma, are not a 
 card-player, and I am not a husband-hunter !'"* 
 
 " I hardly know whether I ought to rejoice in my 
 ignorance of card-playing, Louisa, for it frequently 
 exposes me to sour looks and angry tosses of the head 
 when a person is required to make up a rubber, and I 
 declare my incapacity to do so. It was only three 
 nights ago that I overheard Lady Melderton observe 
 that ' those who did not play cards had no business 
 at parties, and that she supposed it was the desire to 
 appear young that induced some people,** and she 
 glanced rather spitefully at me, ' to decline playing.' "^ 
 
 " What an ill-natured woman !" said Louisa. 
 
 " No, not precisely ill-natured — only selfish, and 
 angry when her own pleasures are interrupted. Cards 
 are her sole amusement, and she cannot pardon any 
 one who is not ready to assist in ftirnishing it." 
 
 '• What surprises me," observed Louisa, " is that 
 persons can find pleasure in what occasions such fre- 
 quent loss of temper. Only look at Lady Melderton
 
 STRATHERN. 13 1 
 
 when she loses ; her face, handsome as it is at other 
 times, becomes perfectly disagreeable then. She gets 
 red and pale by turns, her eyes grow eao-er, her mouth 
 becomes pinched, her cheeks elongated, and her hands 
 twitch — in short, one glance at her ought to cure any 
 woman of this unfeminine passion for play." 
 
 " You forget, my dear, that people always sit down 
 with the hope of winning, and even the ill-tempered 
 are in good humour while they win." 
 
 " I really don^t know, mamma, whether the tri- 
 umph which, however they endeavour to conceal it, 
 always betrays itself in their countenances when they 
 win, is not more disasri^eeable to witness than their 
 unrepressed anger when they lose. No, I shall never 
 be a card-player." 
 
 " So has many a person at your age said, my dear 
 Louisa ; but in after years they have changed their 
 opinions. When age comes on, bringing with it the 
 infirmities inseparable from a protracted state of ex- 
 istence, and when the spirits fail, and the sight 
 fades, a rubber of whist has often been found a re- 
 source for passing the long winter evenings, which, 
 without it, might have hung heavily on those too 
 lans^uid for conversation." 
 
 " And the old are privileged to play at cards pro- 
 vided they do so in moderation, that it is not made 
 the business of their lives, and that they do not stake 
 large sums on the game. But how unwise it is in 
 the young, or even in the middle-aged, while yet in 
 the possession of health and good spirits, to anticipate 
 this resource of the ao-ed, and to devote their evenino-s 
 to cards ! It seems to me quite incomprehensible."
 
 132 STRATHERN. 
 
 " And certainly is liiglily reprehensible. But idle- 
 ness, that bane of life, and the desire for excitement 
 lead many to the card-table. I remember hearing a 
 professed gamester once assert that play was as neces- 
 sary to him as food and raiment ; and that even the 
 excitement attendant on losing was preferable to the 
 stagnation of mind peculiar to the hours not spent in 
 gambling." 
 
 " In what a perverted state the mind of the person 
 making such an acknowledgment must be, and with 
 so many sources of pure and rational enjoyment as 
 this world affords to those possessed of a competency ! 
 To me it appears that the contemplation of nature, 
 the beautiful skies, the verdant earth, and all that 
 adorns it ; the boundless and sublime sea, the clear 
 and sparkling lakes and rivers, are pregnant with 
 inexhaustible delight. Then the vast mine of litera- 
 ture, open to those who seek its enduring pleasures, 
 the study of the fine arts and sciences which yield 
 such untiring interest to those who can appreciate 
 them ! How, with such resources for happily filling 
 up every hour, can persons seek the card-table to kill 
 time r 
 
 " The baleful influence of bad example engenders, 
 and habit fixes, this dangerous and engrossing vice, 
 the indulgence in which unfits its votaries for better, 
 nobler things, and has led to the destruction of many 
 aristocratic families. How many men have I known 
 who commenced life with the most brilliant prospects, 
 yet, by play, ere they had reached maturity, had 
 plunged themselves and those dear to them in inex- 
 tricable ruin ! Of all infatuations this is to me the
 
 STRATHERN. 133 
 
 most inexplicable, and of all vices it is the one I most 
 dread, because it is as destructive to those who plunge 
 into it as the North Sea is said to be to the vessels 
 lost in it, of which not even a portion of the wrecks is 
 ever again seen. Of the virtues wrecked in gaming, 
 how few traces remain ! All, all are engulphed, and 
 yet no one takes warning by the fearful examples so 
 often furnished to them ; and every year beholds 
 fortune, fame, and peace, sacrificed at this shrine of 
 Mammon." 
 
 " I will never marry a man who does not hold play 
 in as great abhorrence as you do, dearest mother," 
 said Louisa Sydney, gravely ; and Mrs. Sydney 
 heard the determination with satisfaction. 
 
 Though deeply ofiended, and mortified at being 
 repulsed by Miss Sydney, Lord Alexander Beaulieu 
 did not discontinue his visits to her. He had two 
 motives in pursuing this line of conduct — the first 
 was to avoid its beino- known that he had been re- 
 jected by that young lady, a fact which he was most 
 anxious should be concealed, and which a cessation of 
 his visits to her would lead people to guess ; and the 
 second, a scheme which had entered his head, of try- 
 ing whether his matrimonial projects, if directed 
 towards her mother, might not prove more successful. 
 He now paid the most assiduous court to Mrs. Sydney, 
 offering her his arm on every occasion ; hovering near 
 her wherever she appeared, and only just showed 
 that degree of placid and respectful politeness to her 
 lovely daughter to which every lady in society is 
 entitled. As neither mother nor daus^hter ever ofave 
 the slightest hint of his having proposed for the latter,
 
 134 STRATHERN. 
 
 and, as he was most careful never to betray the least 
 intimation on the subject, the fact was wholly unknown 
 to the circle in which both parties moved, and was 
 only suspected by Strathern, whose lover-like, quick 
 perception had marked the previous attentions of 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu to Miss Sydney, and, 
 noticing their cessation, judged how the case really 
 stood. This sudden transfer of his assiduities from 
 the young lady to her mother did not serve to elevate 
 him in the opinion of Strathern, who felt positively 
 annoyed that a woman, in every way so superior as 
 Mrs. Sydney, should be selected for the dupe of the 
 mercenary young man, while she, unsuspicious of his 
 motives, extended to him the same politeness shared 
 by all her acquaintance. Louisa observed, with a 
 contempt, the symptoms of which she was at little 
 pains to conceal, the indelicate conduct of her late 
 suitor, and only wondered that her mother saw not 
 the cause which actuated it. But, the truth was, 
 Mrs. Sydney considered herself so wholly out of 
 the reach of flirtations or courtships, that a notion of 
 any man, and more especially a young man who 
 had aspired to her daughter's hand, forming views 
 relative to herself never for a moment entered her 
 head. 
 
 This new proof of the baseness to which money can 
 tempt its worshippers to descend strengthened Louisa 
 in the bad opinion she entertained of mankind, and 
 induced an increased coldness on her part, not only to 
 the unworthy portion of it, but to those wholly ex- 
 empt from the selfish calculation which so strongly 
 excited her disgust. Strathern marked with pain the
 
 STRATHERN. 135 
 
 change in her manner, and, ignorant of the real cause, 
 was tempted to attribute it to caprice, a failing it 
 grieved him to discover in one he had deemed so 
 faultless. The annoyance visible in his demeanour 
 was not unnoticed by Louisa, who erroneously ima- 
 gined that it originated in jealousy at the attention 
 paid by Lord Alexander Beaulieu to her mother ; and 
 this supposition did not serve to increase her hap- 
 piness. She observed the look of displeasure with 
 which Strathern regarded his supposed rival, when, 
 as was often the case, he found him occupying the 
 seat by Mrs. Sydney which he had formerly been 
 wont to fill, and this confirmed her suspicions. Yet, 
 painful as were the feelings they excited, they pro- 
 duced one unexpected result. Now that she could 
 no longer imagine that Strathern had any views with 
 regard to herself, it was unnecessary to maintain the 
 reserve towards him hitherto observed ; and, while 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu addressed his conversation 
 wholly to Mrs. Sydney, her daughter would occasion- 
 ally talk to Strathern, until, by degrees, not only did 
 her stately coldness fade away, as snow melts before 
 the genial influence of sunbeams, but she forgot, or 
 ceased to indulge, any of the suspicions that had 
 lately crossed her mind. Mrs. Sydney noticed with 
 pleasure the intimacy thus slowly but securely forming 
 between her daughter and the only man she had 
 hitherto seen to whom she could have willingly en- 
 trusted her fate, and, desirous to have them more 
 thrown together, she bore with patience the engrossing 
 attentions of Lord Alexander Beaulieu, which tended
 
 1S6 STRATHERN. 
 
 to effect this point, by rendering it in some degree 
 incumbent on Louisa to converse with Strathern while 
 she talked with the other. 
 
 Encouraged by Mrs. Sydney's politeness, which his 
 preposterous vanity led him to attribute to a more ten- 
 der sentiment. Lord Alexander Beaulieu now thought 
 it time to make to the mother the same declaration of 
 love he had only a few weeks previously offered to the 
 daughter, and, as on the former occasion, he did this 
 by letter. Seldom had Mrs. Sydney experienced a 
 feeling so nearly akin to anger as when she perused 
 his epistle, but this feeling merged into contempt at 
 the unblushing impudence with which the writer pre- 
 sumed to avow a flame for her, so soon after having 
 professed the most ardent passion for Louisa. She 
 accused herself for having hitherto treated Lord Alex- 
 ander Beaulieu with an indulgence, which, though 
 meant only to soothe his disappointment at the rejec- 
 tion of her daughter, he had evidently mistaken for 
 an encouragement of his views towards herself, and 
 she wrote him a refusal in terms so cold and stately 
 as to leave him no hope that even the continuance of 
 his acquaintance would in future be agreeable to her. 
 That something had occurred to ruffle the usual 
 equanimity of her mother Louisa soon became aware, 
 although Mrs. Sydney forbore to name the subject. 
 The truth was, she felt ashamed to let her daughter 
 know that so great a liberty had been taken with her, 
 as she considered the proposal made as nothing short 
 of an insult offered. But when several days passed, 
 and Lord Alexander Beaulieu appeared no more in
 
 STRATHERN. 137 
 
 their salon, and evidently avoided them when they 
 met elsewhere, the truth flashed on the mind of 
 Louisa, and she ventured to hint at it to her mother. 
 
 " Don't let us speak of him, dearest," said Mrs. Syd- 
 ney, her cheeks growing red with anger. " He is a 
 vain, foolish man, and I have signified to him that 
 his visits are not any longer acceptable here.'' 
 
 The rage of the discarded suitor knew no bounds. 
 What ! to be refused by a woman twelve years at 
 least his senior, and with a grown daughter too ! It 
 was too vexatious ! — and he promised himself that, if 
 an occasion ever ofi*ered, he would wreak his vengeance 
 on both mother and daughter for the double disap- 
 pointment they had given him. He had already, in 
 his mind's eye, appropriated to his own use the large 
 jointure of Mrs. Sydney, calculated the probable accu- 
 mulation from the savings so prudent a woman must 
 have made, and questioned even the chance of ac- 
 quiring some advantage from the noble fortune of her 
 daughter, when she should become his daughter-in- 
 law. And now, all these bright visions had faded, 
 and he found himself with little more than half the 
 five hundred so fortunately won from Lord Fitz- 
 warren — the rest having gone to pay his bills at 
 Rome — to carry on the war, as he termed it, for the 
 next year, before the expiration of which he could not 
 venture to return to England, his elder brother having 
 only assisted him with a loan on those terms, while 
 he temporised with his numerous and impatient cre- 
 ditors at home. What was to be done \ The rejec- 
 tion of Mrs. Sydney would be guessed at, if not re- 
 vealed by her, owing to his no longer being seen in
 
 1S8 STRATHERN. 
 
 attendance on her, and he should get laughed at and 
 ridiculed by his clique^ on the members of which his 
 own powers of ridicule had been so often and un- 
 sparingly tried that they would rejoice in an oppor- 
 tunity of avenging themselves, and show him no 
 mercy. Something must be done before his rejection 
 became known, and he turned over in his mind what 
 that something must be. After serious consideration, 
 and mature deliberation, as the old story says, he 
 determined, as the best mode of silencing any dreaded 
 report, on offering his homage to some other lady; 
 but who that lady was to be became the next point to 
 be determined upon. There was then, unhappily, no 
 other heiress at Rome, nor even a rich widow, to in- 
 demnify him for his late disappointments. He rubbed 
 his brow as he pondered over the different unmarried 
 women in society, and exclaimed, " No ; there is not 
 one with money." At that instant a noise in the 
 street attracted him to the window, and he saw the 
 carriage of Mrs. Maclaurin, the widow of the rich 
 stockbroker, driven past. Like lightning, the notion 
 of transferring his views flashed through his mind. 
 She was not young, was ugly, and vulgar, it was 
 true — but she was rich, immensely rich, and wealth, 
 in his opinion, atoned for every defect. Yes, he 
 would pay his court to Mrs. Maclaurin immediately, 
 and so have the air of quitting, instead of being quitted 
 by the Sydneys. But how was he to become ac- 
 quainted with this lady? Ay ! here was the diffi- 
 culty. In the circle in which he moved she was not 
 admitted, and he knew not a single person who could 
 present him to her. A new plan occurred to him.
 
 STRATHERN. 139 
 
 He would change his lodging, take up his abode in 
 the hotel in which she resided, and seek some mode, 
 however irregular and unceremonious, of introducing 
 himself to her, and, commece nest que le premier pas qui 
 coute^ that once accomplished, he doubted not that the 
 result would be perfectly satisfactory to his wishes. 
 
 While shrinkino- in alarm from the bare notion of 
 being held up to the ridicule of the society in which 
 he moved, Lord Alexander Beaulieu hesitated not to 
 plot and scheme how best to carry into execution his 
 mean and mercenary views on the vulgar widow of 
 the stockbroker, convinced that, if he succeeded in 
 gaining possession of her fortune, he might defy, such 
 is the power of wealth, the ill-natured comments likely 
 to be made on such a mesalliance. He was sufficiently 
 well acquainted with the fashionable world, the only 
 one whose suffrage he valued, or to whose opinions he 
 referred, not to be well aware that riches, however ac- 
 quired, could always obtain for their possessor tole- 
 ration, if not consideration in it. To be sure, the 
 fastidious portion of his acquaintance might smile in 
 derision of the ugly and vulgar woman he wished to 
 make his bride, and for a short time look coldly on 
 him for having selected such a one ; but the splendour 
 of his fetes^ and the frequency of the recJierches dinners 
 he meant to give, would soon silence their censures, 
 for he knew by experience that, of all means of stop- 
 ping the mouths of his fashionable soi-disant friends, 
 good dinners, often repeated, were the most effectual. 
 
 Thus did Lord Alexander Beaulieu, the man of 
 fashion, the man of the world, reason ; and so would 
 many a one of his acquaintance reason too, for there are
 
 140 STRATHERN. 
 
 but too many in the circles to which they belong, who, 
 while shrinking from ridicule, are ready to commit 
 any meanness that can tend to accomplish the projects 
 they have in view. This dread of ridicule, and care- 
 lessness of incurring well-merited censure, is the re- 
 sult of the actual state of society in certain classes, 
 where money, like charity, is supposed to cover a 
 multitude of sins, and where the world's dread laugh 
 is much more feared than the stings of conscience, or 
 even the divine anger. Marrying for money is so 
 common an event in the present day, that it is not 
 only tolerated, but reckoned praiseworthy ; hence, 
 men of good family, but with small fortunes, consider 
 themselves as marketable commodities, to be disposed 
 of to the highest bidder, and speculate on all their 
 imagined or real advantages to enhance their preten- 
 sions. Of all the mercenary herd who might be found 
 in the circles of fashion, not one entertained a higher 
 opinion of himself than did Lord Alexander Beaulieu, 
 yet this inordinate self-admiration was accompanied 
 by so little self-respect that he was willing to barter 
 his person and name for a fortune, wholly regardless 
 how plain, vulgar, and illiterate the woman might be, 
 by a marriage with whom it was to be acquired. He 
 would have, doubtlessly, preferred wedding a young 
 and beautiful girl of good family and large fortune, like 
 Miss Sydney, had she smiled on his suit, or even her 
 mother, had she deigned to accept his proposal ; but, 
 as neither w^ere to be won, and no other rich women 
 of 2:ood family were at Rome, he was determined to 
 try his fortune with the stockbroker's widow.
 
 STRATHERN. 141 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 For husbands ever on the watch, 
 Like spiders trying flies to catch, 
 They spread their nets, and, when too late. 
 The victim struggles with his fate. 
 Unhappy wretch ! for aye condemned 
 To drag a chain he cannot rend. 
 And tread the cheerless path of life, 
 Encumber'd with a heartless wife. 
 
 The advice given by Lady Wellerby to her daughters 
 had been strictly followed by them, and so advan- 
 tageous had been its effects, that from the time that 
 Lord Fitzwarren had, in utter despair of success, 
 abandoned his pursuit of Miss Sydney, he had fallen 
 into the habit of dropping in, sans ceremonie^ at 
 Lady Wellerby's, for the purpose, as he termed it, of 
 killing time, by chatting with her daughters. It was 
 not that he really felt any pleasure in their society, or 
 experienced the least preference for them, that he 
 thus paid his daily visits, but the truth was, he knew 
 not how otherwise to get rid of the hours that hung 
 so heavily on his hands, and sought the Wellerbys as
 
 142 STRATHERN. 
 
 his only refuge from being left to liis own resources, 
 which were but feeble, against the enemy he most 
 dreaded — ennui. Had there been a horse-dealer of 
 any celebrity at Rome, or a club where he could have 
 met some of his acquaintances, who, like himself, had 
 no pleasure in antiquities or works of art, never would 
 he have frequented Lady Wellerby's ; as it was, he 
 became a daily visitor there. To a weak man, habit 
 is a dangerous thing. It renders supportable objects 
 which, previously to its being contracted, were not 
 only viewed by him with indifference but even with 
 dislike, and, like the use of snuff or tobacco, from 
 which persons at first recoil, after some time habit 
 makes those formerly disapproved not only endurable, 
 but agreeable. In these daily visits of Lord Fitz- 
 warren to Lady Wellerby, the young ladies were wont 
 to continue their avocations unrestrained by his 
 presence — nay, more, they selected those in wdiich he 
 seemed disposed to take some interest. Lady Olivia 
 affected to take a sudden passion for drawing horses, 
 and her sister wasted many sheets of paper in en- 
 deavouring to cut out something in the shape of those 
 animals. 
 
 " Well done, by Jove ! — a capital attempt,*" said 
 Lord Fitzwarren, as, seated by the girls, he one day 
 looked over a drawing on which Lady Olivia was 
 engaged. " Yes, you have a real genius for drawing 
 horses, and, when I can find a fine, thorough-bred, 
 English nag, I will buy it at any price, that you may 
 have a good model to copy." 
 
 " Will you, indeed ? How kind of j^ou, and how 
 much obliged to you I shall feel ! I always had a
 
 STRATHERN. 143 
 
 passion for horses, but until you taught me to dis- 
 tinguish and appreciate the really good ones, I had 
 no power of drawing them. Now I feel that if you 
 will but have patience with me, and continue your 
 instructions, I shall soon be able to render justice to 
 the noble animal.''* 
 
 " The back is somewhat too long — shorten it ; make 
 the legs less thin, for though fine legs are a beauty in 
 a horse, they must not be too slight, or he would be 
 apt to break down ; the shoulder, too, is heavy, and 
 the neck clumsy." 
 
 " I will alter them immediately ,'' said the Lady 
 Olivia, taking a piece of Indian-rubber, and quickly 
 effacing the lines, and substituting new ones. " Now, 
 do, dear Lord Fitzwarren, tell me if this is better ;"" 
 and with the docility of a good child, she held the 
 drawing out for his approbation, looking up innocently 
 in his face all the while with pleading eyes and an 
 affectedly sweet smile. 
 
 " Yes, this is better, infinitely better. By Jove ! 
 you improve amazingly." 
 
 " Thanks to your instruction," observed Lady Olivia, 
 with a glance full of gratitude. " Oh ! how I should 
 like to have fine horses," exclaimed she, with assumed 
 enthusiasm, " and go into the stable, and see the dear 
 noble animals fed !" 
 
 "Would you, indeed r asked Lord Fitzwarren, his 
 face brightening up. 
 
 " Above all things in the world," resumed the lady ; 
 " except going out hunting. That has ever been my 
 utmost ambition, mais^ helas i I have no chance of 
 such happiness !" and she sighed deeply.
 
 144 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Who knows ? Don't despair r said Lord Fitz- 
 warren. 
 
 " You must not give me false hopes, for mamma 
 would never let me go out hunting, even if I had 
 a horse," observed Lady Olivia. " Would you, 
 mamma V turning to Lady Wellerby, who aftected to 
 be busily engaged reading her English letters at the 
 other end of the room, but who was a pleased and 
 attentive spectatress of the scene in which her artful 
 and well-schooled daughter was so cleverly enacting 
 her part. 
 
 " Did you speak to me, Olivia V asked the lady- 
 mother, slowly raising her eyes from the letter she was 
 affecting to peruse. 
 
 " Yes, mamma ; I asked you if you would permit 
 me to o-o out huntino^ f 
 
 " Go out hunting, child ! An unmarried woman go 
 out hunting ? I never heard such a thing ;" and Lady 
 Wellerby elevated her eyebrows, and opened her small 
 eyes to their utmost extent, with a look of well-acted 
 astonishment. 
 
 " You see I was right," said Lady Olivia, and she 
 sighed profoundly. " No ; such happiness is not 
 reserved for me. / shall never be able to go out 
 hunting," and she shook her head slowly, and looked 
 with a melancholy expression at Lord Fitzwarren. 
 
 " Not until you are married," replied he. 
 
 " So few men are really good riders, and only such 
 could teach their wives to ride, that I have little 
 chance of being so fortunate as to be selected by one ;" 
 and Lady Olivia sighed more deeply than ever. 
 
 " Don't despair. What wager will you bet me that
 
 STRATHERN. 14*5 
 
 before six months you are not married to a regular 
 fox-hunter T' 
 
 " You are jesting, Lord Fitzwarren ; I see you 
 are," and the lady pouted and looked more sad than 
 before. 
 
 " By Jove, I am not ! Never was more serious in 
 my life. Til bet you five guineas to two ; Td make 
 it fifty, only that 1 know young ladies seldom have 
 much pocket-money, and I don't want to win all 
 yours." 
 
 " I would take your wager," said Lady Olivia, in a 
 low voice, " only that mamma would be angry, as she 
 never allows us to make bets." 
 
 " She need know nothing about the matter," whis- 
 pered Lord Fitzwarren, " so take my wager." 
 
 " Done," said Lady Olivia ; and she nodded her 
 head knowingly, and held out her hand to him, say- 
 ing, " I shall be sure to win your five guineas ; for, 
 fond as I am of horses, and much as I should like to 
 go out hunting, I don't know a single fox-hunter that 
 I would marry." 
 
 Lady Wellerby, on whom not a word of this dis- 
 course had been lost, and who augured the happiest 
 result from it, was so alarmed by this unexpected 
 speech of her daughter, that she positively started, 
 and turned up her eyes towards the ceiling as if ap- 
 pealing to Heaven against the stupidity of that young 
 lady. But Lady Olivia, who observed the movement, 
 smiled inwardly at her own superior tact, while wait- 
 ing to see what effect the naivete of her declaration 
 would have on him to whom it was addressed. 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren looked perfectly astounded and 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 STRATHERN. 
 
 crestfallen as he gazed inquiringly on tlie unconscious 
 countenance assumed by Lady Olivia, and, after a 
 pause of a few minutes, exclaimed— 
 
 " And so you don^t know a single fox-hunter whom 
 you would marry V 
 
 " No," replied the lady. 
 
 " Then, I suppose, you wouldn't marry me, ehT' 
 " But tjou are not a fox-hunter,'' said the lady, look- 
 ing most innocently, "are your 
 
 " Why, what the devil else have you taken me for T 
 
 " You never told me you were, and I— I—" and 
 
 she cast down her eyes, and raised her handkerchief 
 
 to her face, in affected confusion, to conceal, not her 
 
 blushes, but her want of them. 
 
 " Well, I did not take you to be such a simpleton," 
 said LordFitzwarren, his countenance brightening up. 
 " But now you know that I am a fox-hunter— ay, and 
 a most determined one, too— what do you say to your 
 wager at present, eh I Come, confess that you haven't 
 much chance of winning." 
 
 Lady Olivia still kept her handkerchief to her face, 
 and seemed speechless from emotion. 
 
 " W^hat will you give to be let off, eh? But, hang 
 me, if I can account for ^jour not knowing that which 
 every one of my acquaintance is aware of, namely, that 
 Melton has not a more thorough-going Nimrod than 
 myself. Well, is there now a fox-hunter of your ac- 
 quaintance that you would marry I Don't keep hiding 
 your face, but say, will you have me or not V 
 ' Lady Olivia extended her hand to him, and whis- 
 pered, '^ Oh ! I am so happy ; but do ask mamma, 
 for 1 am so overpowered — so '"*
 
 STRATHERN. 147 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren unceremoniously clasped her to his 
 breast, imprinted a kiss on her lips, and walked up to 
 Ladj Wellerby, who affected not to be aware of what 
 was 2:oino^ on at the other end of the room. 
 
 " Lady Wellerby," said he, " I am a plain-spoken, 
 blunt fellow. I wish to marry Olivia ; and, as I sup- 
 pose you and her father can have no reasonable objec- 
 tion, the sooner the affair is settled the better." 
 
 " All this is so sudden, so wholly unexpected, that 
 I am quite taken by surprise," said the wily mother. 
 " Oome here, my dear child ;" and she beckoned to 
 Lady Olivia, who approached her with assumed timi- 
 dity. " Do you entertain for Lord Fitzwarren that 
 decided preference and fond attachment, without which, 
 I hope, no child of mine would ever think of entering 
 the married state ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, dear mamma ;" and Lady Olivia again 
 hid her face with her handkerchief. 
 
 " Then take my blessing, both of you, and may all 
 happiness attend your union !" and Lady Wellerby 
 kissed first her daughter, and then her future son-in- 
 law, whom she congratulated on having secured the 
 most warm-hearted and artless creature in the world ! 
 
 " Artless enough, God knows !" observed Lord Fitz- 
 warren. " Why, only fancy the little simpleton not 
 knowing that I was a fox-hunter." 
 
 " Poor child ! I have been so strict in the mode of 
 bringing my girls up, that they are much more igno- 
 rant in the ways of the world than most young per- 
 sons of their a^e." 
 
 " Well, confess, Livy," said Lord Fitzwarren, im- 
 
 H 2
 
 148 STRATHERN. 
 
 mediately adopting the familiarity of abridging her 
 name, " confess that you have lost your wager." 
 
 "I do confess,"" murmured the delighted Lady 
 Olivia. 
 
 " Do you now think you won't have the happiness 
 of going out hunting, eh ? That you shall, and no occa- 
 sion to ask mamma's permission, neither. But there's 
 poor Sophy looking as blank and crestfallen as a jockey 
 who has lost his race. You have been distanced, 
 Sophy, but never mind ; better luck another time ; im- 
 prove yourself in cutting out horses, and I'll take you 
 down to Melton with Livy next season, and then you'll 
 find plenty of good fellows unmarried ;" and he walked 
 up to Lady Sophia and gave her a brotherly salute. 
 
 " Settle the matter at once with the old governor," 
 said he, turning to Lady Wellerby. " I hate long 
 courtships ; and, as Livy and I have said done^ I don't 
 see the good of waiting. I'll give her a devilish good 
 settlement, I can tell you. All men on the turf ought 
 to make large settlements, and give a good round 
 yearly sum for pin-money, as they call it, to their 
 wives ; for when they get out of elbows, as we say — 
 no uncommon thing with us, who stake thousands on 
 a race — it is no bad look-out to have one's wife's 
 allowance to fall back on, and I know some right good 
 fellows, regular goers, who have now nothing else left 
 to depend on." 
 
 " I hope, dear Lord Fitzwarren, that you will take 
 advantage and profit by such evil examples, and will 
 not waste your fortune on the turf," said Lady Wel- 
 lerby, looking alarmed. 
 
 " Why, whether I waste it on one green place or
 
 STRATHERN. 149 
 
 another, the green sward, or the gaming-table, comes 
 much to the same in the end," replied Fitzwarren. 
 " Most men of my rank and fortune try one or the 
 other, and sometimes both. But Fm no greater fool 
 than the rest, and have, besides, the luck to have a 
 capital fellow for my training-groom, who keeps a 
 sharp look-out, and puts me up to every thing going 
 on in the other stables. There is not a racer in any 
 of them that can make a trial, or even take a gallop, 
 that I don't hear of it immediately. No, I'm a know- 
 ing one, 1 can tell you ; up to a trick or two. To be 
 sure, it costs me a mint of money to get my informa- 
 tion — secret service money, I call it — but it's worth 
 paying for ; and my training-groom, an excellent fel- 
 low, does the thing as cheaply as he can. You have 
 no idea how clever these training-grooms are. They 
 sleep with their eyes open, I really believe, for they 
 know every thing that's going on in the other stables, by 
 night as well as by day. I have seldom been taken in, 
 so well has my fellow kept a look-out ; and when I 
 was, he was fit to go mad. The way it happened was, 
 he ofot a hint that two horses from other stables were 
 to have a trial. He stole as near as he could get with- 
 out being seen, and hid behind a hedge, when he saw 
 a white-legged horse going a famous pace, and a black- 
 legged one, which was a favourite, going as slow as a 
 top. This put him out confoundedly, for he did not 
 know the white-legged one, so he made his report to 
 me; I was had, lost a cool five hundred, and dis- 
 covered afterwards, through one of the boys whom my 
 fellow got hold of, that the white legs were painted, in 
 order to deceive lookers-on. Sometimes the trainers
 
 150 STRATHERN. 
 
 put shot in the pockets of the jockey to add to the 
 weight, and take in people. It requires a devilish clear 
 head and first-rate abilities to be able to keep one's 
 own on the turf, I can tell you. Talk of the necessity 
 of having clever men to be prime ministers and cabinet 
 councillors, it's all a joke compared to the sharpness 
 required to prevent one's being ruined on the turf. 
 Why, your dearest friend will take you in if he can — 
 ay, by Jove ! your brother, if you have one. People 
 talk of authors being clever, and making good books, 
 but it demands fifty times as much cleverness to make 
 a good betting-book." 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren was so animated now that he had 
 got on his favourite subject, that he could have talked 
 for hours, and disclosed the whole arcana of the secrets 
 of the stables at Newmarket, which he considered the 
 most important of all topics, had not Lady Wellerby, 
 whose patience was exhausted, interrupted him, by 
 saying, " I hope you will dine with us to-day." 
 
 " Can't, 'pon my soul ! I ordered dinner this morn- 
 ing — not any more expecting that I was going to pop 
 the question, ay, nor dreaming even of marriage, than 
 that 1 was to ride a race — got some famous wild boar, 
 and asked some of my countrymen to come and share 
 it. We have all had enough of tame bores here, said 
 I, so for novelty's sake let us try the wild boar. 
 'Twasn't bad, was it, Livy ? They all laughed fit to 
 crack their sides, but especially Webworth, who I 
 thought would never stop, but he did, though, at last, 
 and got me to lend him two hundred pounds." 
 
 " I trust, dear Lord Fitzwarren, that when you are 
 a married man you will be more guarded, and not
 
 STRATHERN. 151 
 
 throw away your money by lending it to your impro- 
 vident acquaintances," observed Lady Wellerby. 
 
 "Whew!" said or rather whistled Lord Fitzwarren, 
 screwing up his lips. "So you call lending a couple 
 of hundreds to a friend less prosperous than myself 
 throwing away my money, do you I Now / have a 
 a very different notion on the subject. / call it put- 
 ting out my money to interest, for, if by assisting a 
 friend in a scrape I win his regard, have I not the best 
 of it, eh? Mind, Livy, if you wish me to continue to 
 like you, never try to turn me against my friends, and 
 especially such of them as may stand in need of my 
 help. I could not bear a woman who attempted this, 
 for I have known so many good fellows spoiled and 
 rendered good for nothing by their wives, that it half 
 turned me against matrimony. Why, there was 
 Robinson, a capital fellow before he married, ready to 
 lend a helping hand to any friend in distress, but no 
 sooner did he o-et a wife than he said — in answer to a 
 letter from poor Webworth, who wrote to him from a 
 lock-up house, whence three hundred would have ran- 
 somed him — that he was very sorry, but could not 
 assist him, as he had pledged himself to his wife never 
 to put his name to a bill, or to lend money. He 
 ought to have been ashamed to write it, the snob, but 
 no woman on earth could get me to throw off an old 
 friend in distress, and I should hate her who tried it ; 
 so mind, Livy, you now know my mind." 
 
 " Dear kind-hearted Lord Fitzwarren !" murmured 
 Lady Olivia, in her most soothing tone of voice, for 
 she observed that the selfish advice of her lady-mother 
 had displeased and irritated her lover.
 
 152 STRATHERN. 
 
 'Til meet you to-night at Lady Mangerstlen^s," 
 said he, and pressing her cheek with a kiss, and nod- 
 ding to her mother and sister, he departed. 
 
 " You are a fortunate girl, Olivia," exclaimed Lady 
 Wellerby, after looking towards the door, and giving 
 time to her future son-in-law to leave the house. 
 " You have thrown your net to some purpose, and 
 caught your fish. It is a flat one, 'tis true j neverthe- 
 less, with plenty of mint sauce, it will go down well 
 enouoli."" 
 
 '• I thought mint sauce was only used with lamb,'' 
 observed Lady Olivia, with a more impertinent air 
 than she had ever previously assumed towards her 
 mother, with whom she felt ofiended for having spoken 
 so slightingly of her affianced husband. Not that she 
 experienced towards him any stronger sentiment than 
 on the preceding day, when she had joined her mother 
 and sister in ridiculing him, but now she had secured 
 her golden prize, he was her property, and she resented 
 his being attacked just as she would have done any 
 abuse of a favourite lap-dog, merely because it was 
 
 " Well, I don't envy Olivia, I am sure," said Lady 
 Sophia, spitefully. 
 
 " What would you give to be in my place, though V 
 demanded Lady Olivia, with a smile of undisguised 
 triumph. " Forty thousand a-year, three fine places in 
 the country, a good house in town, and the family 
 diamonds, are not things to be despised." 
 
 " Certainly not, if one could have them without the 
 man ; but he really is such an uncouth, uncivilized 
 creature, that ..."
 
 STRATHERN. 153 
 
 " Not more uncouth or uncivilized than those men 
 for whom you have been, during the last ten years, 
 unsuccessfully spreading your nets/' 
 
 " Have done, Olivia. Sophia, cease to find fault 
 with your sister's future husband," said Lady Wel- 
 lerby, with a stately air. " You know the field was 
 open to you both. Each tried for him, and, as Olivia 
 has won the prize, you, Sophia, should be pleased in- 
 stead of being angry." 
 
 " Me angry, mamma ! Well, I am sure I never 
 thought of such a thing ; never felt less angry in my 
 life ;" and the Lady Sophia burst into tears. 
 
 " I am quite certain that if Sophia had caught him 
 I should not have been angry or have cried," observed 
 Lady Olivia, maliciously. 
 
 " You are greatly mistaken if you think I am angry, 
 or that my tears have any reference to such a rude, ill- 
 bred fox-hunter, for if / had chosen to pretend to dote 
 on horses, to spend my mornings in making drawings of 
 them, and to long to go out hunting, I might have 
 had him instead of you." 
 
 " Did you not cut out horses on paper every day 
 while I was drawing them ? The only difierence 
 between us is, that my efforts succeeded, and yours 
 did not. Probably Lord Fitzwarren saw that your 
 cut paper horses resembled his favourite animals much 
 less than my drawings did. However, let that be as 
 it may, Sophy, you never had the slightest chance, I 
 can tell you." 
 
 " Girls, this recrimination is odious — disgusting ! 
 You should look on this fortunate chance as an ad- 
 vantage, not to one sister alone, but to both. The 
 
 h5
 
 154 STRATHERN. 
 
 marriage of Olivia to so capital a parti will draw- 
 attention to you, Sophia, and probably lead to your 
 securing- an eligible husband before long. I desire 
 that you become reconciled at once. There, go kiss 
 and be friends, and let not so lucky a day be clouded 
 by jealousies and bickerings." 
 
 " I am sure I have no objection," said Lady Olivia, 
 extending her hand to her sister. 
 
 " Nor I," pronounced Lady Sophia, coldly return- 
 ing the proffered kiss. " How I hate her for giving 
 herself such airs at having caught her booby !" 
 thought Lady Sophia. 
 
 " How envious and jealous of my good fortune she 
 is !" thought Lady Olivia. 
 
 And now papa returned from his diurnal visit to the 
 reading-room ; his temper, never good, more than 
 usually ruffled, by having read in the Morning Post 
 that the Lord-lieutenancy of his county, become vacant 
 by the death of the Earl of Castlehaven, had been 
 bestowed on Lord Deloraine. He had long anticipated 
 that, when death should release Lord Castlehaven 
 from all sublunary cares and duties, he would be the 
 person selected to fill his place ; great, therefore, was 
 his ire at this disappointment, the cause of which he 
 attributed wholly to his absence on the Continent 
 having kept him from giving his wonted support to 
 ministers in the House of Lords, and furnished them 
 with an excuse for passing over his former claims, and 
 appointing his enemy to the post he coveted. His 
 absence was all the work of Lady Wellerby, and what 
 good had it accomplished? Were his daughters any 
 nearer being married I No 5 their chance seemed as
 
 STRATHERN. 155 
 
 remote as ever, and, as he dwelt on these annoyances, 
 his wrath increased, and he longed to pour its vials on 
 the devoted head of his wife, whose recent demands for 
 an advance on her pin-money again recurring to his 
 memory, added fuel to the fire of his anger. His 
 contracted brow, flashing eyes, and crimsoned cheek, 
 betrayed, the moment he had entered the room, the 
 tempest that was working in his heart ; and had not 
 his lady-wife felt that she had a balm to impart which 
 would act on his wrath like oil thrown on the stormy 
 waves, she would have trembled. Knowing that if 
 once the hurricane burst, it would be difficult to check 
 its fury, she approached him joyfully, and exclaimed, 
 " Good news ! good news !'' 
 
 " Stuff, nonsense ! Don't talk to me of good news ! 
 what new folly have you got in your head now V 
 
 " No stuff, no nonsense. Lord Wellerby," and his 
 lady-wife drew herself up to her utmost height. " Never 
 again accuse me of not being a provident, ay, and a 
 clever mother, too. Lord Fitzwarren has proposed 
 for Olivia !'' 
 
 " The devil he has ! Is it sure, certain — no mistake 
 again ? You remember how you and Sophy fancied 
 that Sir Thomas Marston had proposed to her, be- 
 cause he made some foolish speeches to her when he was 
 tipsy." 
 
 " There is, there can be no mistake now, for Lord 
 Fitzwarren has spoken to me, and asked me to tell 
 you that he wished to have the marriage take place as 
 soon as possible."' 
 
 " A good job — a devilish good job ! Did he say 
 anything about expecting a fortune I I have no money
 
 156 STRATHERN. 
 
 to come down with — a trifle at my death — nothing 
 more.'' 
 
 " He never referred to the subject, and I dare say 
 never will ; he only said that he wished to secure a 
 large jointure, and liberal pin-money to Olivia." 
 
 " More fool he ! But that's his afiair, and not mine ; 
 he'll know better before he comes to my age. Well, 
 well, I'm very glad of this match. Getting one daughter 
 well off our hands may help to get off the other, and 
 then we may live quietly at home at Wellerby Hall, 
 and save money, instead of racketing about from place 
 to place, without any comfort, eating bad meat and 
 drinking sour wines enough to spoil one's stomach. 
 There's old Castlehaven dead, and the lord-lieutenancy 
 cnven to Deloraine instead of to me. All this comes 
 from living abroad." 
 
 " But see what a brilliant marriao-e Olivia has se- 
 cured ; and this, too, comes from our living abroad. 
 In London she never would have had such a chance, 
 for there men have their clubs, and their omnibus- 
 boxes at the theatres, and lead such gay lives, that they 
 have no time to think of marrying." 
 
 " There may be something in that," said Lord Wel- 
 lerby ; and his wife for the nonce escaped the angry 
 reproaches he liad determined on making her. 
 
 "How delightful it is for us to get Olivia so well 
 settled in life, isn't it, my dear V said she. 
 
 " Yes, I must say it is. It will be a great saving 
 of expense, for the dress of a girl now-a-days costs an 
 enormous sum ; and another consideration is, I shall 
 be more comfortable when travelling, for I can get my 
 feet on her vacant place, and that will be a great relief
 
 STRATHERN. 157 
 
 to my legs, which used to suffer so much from being 
 cramped up in our coach." 
 
 " Yes, it is a real happiness to have our daughter 
 secure so brilliant a marriage, and to think how angry 
 and jealous it will make all our friends and acquaint- 
 ances, who have been hawking their girls about for 
 years, in order to try to get them off their hands/' 
 
 " For the matter of that, so have we, and a pretty 
 sum it has cost me." 
 
 " You surely cannot regret it, my lord, when the 
 result has been so fortunate ? But, a-propos of expense, 
 I must call on you to loose your purse-strings, and let 
 me have some money." 
 
 " Money, money, always money ! If things go ill, 
 you ask for money ; and when things go well, you also 
 demand it. There is no end to the folly and extrava- 
 gance of women. Happy are they who keep aloof from 
 them, and are spared the plague of wives and daughters." 
 " This is unkind, Lord Wellerby, I must say ; and 
 more especially when my constant and arduous endea- 
 vours to secure an advantageous marriage for your 
 daughter have been just crowned with success." 
 
 '■'• My daughter. Lady Wellerby ! She is as much 
 your daughter as mine, and it was as much for your 
 own interest as for mine that you made the exertions 
 for which you take such wonderful credit." 
 
 " It is no use bickering, Lord Wellerby, and there- 
 fore let us come to the point. It is indispensably 
 necessary for me to have money, in order that Olivia 
 should have some new dresses to appear in, now that 
 all eyes will be turned on her as the fiancee of Lord 
 Fitz warren."
 
 158 STRATHERN. 
 
 " I don't see the necessity, and, what's more, Lady 
 Wellerby, I icoiit see the necessity. If she caught 
 the man in the dresses she has, it is quite evident that 
 the great end and aim of all dress is accomplished, and 
 a fig for what others may say or think on the subject. 
 Besides, as she must have a regular fit-out for her 
 marriage, which you must take care her husband'' s 
 purse, and not mine, is to suffer for, it would only be 
 throwing away money to buy her any gowns or other 
 gimcracks at present." 
 
 " You would not surely be so illiberal, so mean, as 
 to throw the expense of her trousseau and corbeille de 
 manage on Lord Fitzwarren f 
 
 "Most certainly I will." 
 
 " It will be an unprecedented thing." 
 
 " Not altogether, for your lady-mother did the same 
 by me. I was young and inexperienced then, so I was 
 taken in, and now I will make my reprisal. I disco- 
 vered afterwards that your father, good-natured, easy 
 man, had given your mother three hundred pounds to 
 rig you out, but she put it in her pocket, and made me 
 pay for all." 
 
 " I did not expect. Lord Wellerby, that you would 
 asperse the memory of my poor mother," and Lady 
 Wellerby put her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 "Asperse her ! not I — never meant such a thing. 
 I think she acted a wise part, and I want you to follow 
 her example in making this young man do what I did 
 thirty -five years ago, and for which you would require 
 no prompting if you could pocket three hundred pounds, 
 as your mother did, but which Fm too sharp to let you 
 do. No ; I'll make a bargain with you — Fll give you
 
 STRATHERN. 159 
 
 a hundred pounds for yourself, as a sort of per centage 
 for getting Olivia off our hands, and if you get rid of 
 Sophy I'll give you another. This young man is very 
 rich and liberal, and knows nothing of what is the 
 usual custom on such occasions. You can easily make 
 him understand that he is to furnish everything, we 
 providing him only with a wife ; and if you could just 
 get him to throw in a supply for Sophy it will be all 
 the better." 
 
 " It will require great tact to manage all this. Lord 
 Wellerby ; but no one has ever accused me of want of 
 that, when the happiness and interest of my husband 
 and children are at stake ; but you will, I trust, let 
 me have the hundred pounds at once." 
 
 " But if the match should by any chance go off ! 
 You know the old proverb : ' Many things between 
 the cup and the lip."* " 
 
 " Nothing can prevent it." 
 
 " Well, then, you shall have it to-morrow." And so 
 saying Lord Wellerby retreated, dreading that, should 
 he remain longer, his cava sposa might make some fresh 
 demand on his purse. " She is not such a fool, after 
 all, as I took her to be," murmured he to himself, as 
 he strolled up to the Monte Pincio. " She has ma- 
 naged this affair very cleverly, I must say, and deserves 
 credit for it ; but I must not let her see that I think 
 so highly of her management in the business. Women 
 can't stand being praised ; it puts them above them- 
 selves directly, and they expect to have all their unrea- 
 sonable demands complied with ; the best of them are 
 but foolish, weak creatures, after all ; always agog after 
 some whim or other. I suspect my lady has been
 
 160 STRATHERN. 
 
 losing at cards lately ; she did not say so, because she 
 knew it would only draw a severe lecture from me. I 
 have no patience with women playing for more than 
 sixpences. Why I, who play as steady a game as 
 most men, have lost this week about two hundred 
 pounds, though I only played half-pound points, and 
 betted a pound on the rubber. But I had such a con- 
 founded run of ill-luck against me — but it can't last, 
 thafs one thing, and Fll have my revenge to-night. 
 I must put a stop to my wife's card-playing, if I find 
 she has been losing, for I won't stand such goings-on. 
 I fear this young fellow, Fitzwarren, is a wild chap ; 
 but, Tiimporte^ I'll have Olivia's marriage settlements 
 and pin-money well taken care of ; and, if he chooses 
 to ruin himself, she will, at all events, be safe, and not 
 be returned on my hands."
 
 STRATHERN. 161 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Some madly rush into the marriage state 
 As if impell'd by a decree of fate, 
 Lur'd on by beauty, short liv'd as the flow'r 
 That fades, and withers in autumnal hour ; 
 Or by ambition, avarice, or pride. 
 How many have been led to seek a bride — 
 Thoughtless of qualities of mind or heart, 
 To sweeten life when beauty shall depart ; 
 Or when the gauds of pride and riches fade, 
 And man no longer is the dupe they made ! 
 But still more mad are they, by folly led. 
 Who, without love, esteem, or prudence, wed. 
 
 " Have you heard the news T" said Strathem to 
 Mrs. Sydney, the first salutation having passed, the 
 morning after the impromptu proposal of Lord Fitz- 
 warren to the Lady Olivia Wellerby. 
 " Is it really true, or are you jesting V 
 " Perfectly true, I assure you. It was announced 
 last night at Lady Mangerstein's party, by Lady 
 Wellerby, and the affianced lovers enacted the role ct 
 merwille. Fitzwarren, however, came to my room 
 after, and, the excitement of the first few hours having 
 subsided, he declared to me that now it was all settled,
 
 162 STRATHERN. 
 
 he had not the least notion how it had been brought 
 about. ' Hang me, if I know how it was done,"* were 
 his precise words, ' for when I went there in the morning 
 to call, I had no more idea of proposing for Livy than 
 of flying, and what put it into my head I can't for 
 the life of me tell. I wish I hadn't been in such a 
 confounded hurry, for the chances are, if I had taken 
 time to consider, I never should have proposed at all. 
 And now that poor girl Sophy looks so unhappy that I 
 did not choose her, that it gives me pain to see her. 
 You know the old saying of Sir Robert Walpole's, the 
 minister, that when he bestowed a place or a pension, 
 he made a thousand foes, and one person ungrateful. 
 I hope this won't be my case, for it would be too bad 
 if all the girls I flirted with turn enemies, and Livy 
 prove ungrateful. One thing is certain, and that is, 
 Sophy is terribly cut up. Poor soul ! I wish I 
 could persuade some fellow to have her to console her 
 for seeing Livy preferred.' " 
 
 Mrs. Sydney and Louisa could not resist laughing 
 at Strathern's clever imitation of Lord Fitzwarren, 
 and he, thus encouraged, proceeded to repeat the rest 
 of the conversation. 
 
 " ' But if you went to call on Lady Wellerby 
 without any notion of proposing,' asked I, ' what led 
 you to do so V 
 
 u i Why, that's precisely what I can't make out 
 myself; but I think it was because Livy took such 
 pains to please me in drawing a horse, and expressed 
 such a love for those fine animals, and such a longing 
 desire to go out hunting, that I took pity on the poor 
 girl, and, to secure her the enjoyments she coveted,
 
 STRATHERN. 163 
 
 proposed for her. I had a wager with her, too, and 
 that urged me on." " 
 
 " Absurd as all this is, you will observe," resumed 
 Strathern, " that kindness of heart led poor Fitz- 
 warren to commit this piece of folly, which will, in all 
 probability, entail much unhappiness on him, for Lady 
 Olivia is not, in my opinion, a woman calculated to 
 render him a wiser or a better man." 
 
 " Marriage is a lottery," said Mr. Rhymer, who 
 had entered while Strathern was repeating Fitz- 
 warren's conversation, " in which there are more 
 blanks than prizes." 
 
 "It can only be so considered," observed Mrs. 
 Sydney, " when the drawers are, like those who draw 
 lottery-tickets, blindfolded, by which I mean, when 
 persons marry before they are really acquainted with 
 each other^s tempers, dispositions, habits, and pur- 
 suits, on which knowledge happiness so much depends. 
 A man becomes suddenly captivated with a beautiful 
 girl. He sees her gentle and lady-like, as most 
 women in society are, and he believes her to be as 
 amiable as she is handsome ; all men in love have the 
 same belief. The girl, unless she happens to possess 
 more sfood sense and reflection than fall to the lot of 
 most young persons of her sex, satisfied by being 
 beloved, and grateful for the preference accorded to 
 her, liberally endows her lover with every excellent 
 quality, and thus, under the influence of a mutual 
 illusion, they marry. How few, even of the best 
 people, can justify the exaggerated notions and expec- 
 tations entertained of them previously to marriage ! 
 Every day, nay, every hour, rends asunder the veil
 
 164} STRATHERN. 
 
 that had concealed errors and defects never suspected 
 to have existed, and the disappomtment experienced 
 leads to a sense of bitterness, very unlikely to ex- 
 tenuate the faults discovered, or to amend them by the 
 exercise of that patience and good nature so needed to 
 sweeten domestic life. The man who absurdly ex- 
 pected to find the lovely creature he had wedded 
 faultless will, when defects are revealed, be prone to 
 sink her from the angel he believed her to be to the 
 very opposite of an angelical nature ; and the woman 
 who fancied her lover the perfection of mankind will 
 be apt to think the husband who betrays his detection 
 of her fallibility anything but delightful. Hence a 
 fertile field for dissensions is sown, and life afterwards 
 offers the wretched prospect of disappointed hopes, and 
 perpetual difference of opinions." 
 
 " You have drawn a gloomy picture, my good lady," 
 said Rhymer, " and, were I not long past the age when 
 such a topic could personally interest me, I should lay 
 it to my heart. I hope it will not appal those," and 
 he glanced from Miss Sydney to Strathern, " whom 
 it may more concern." 
 
 " Mrs. Sydney has only stated the case of persons 
 who marry, without really knowing each other's cha- 
 racters, dispositions, and habits," observed Strathern. 
 
 " But is not love painted blind to denote that he 
 can see no faults V remarked Mr. Rhymer. 
 
 " The love that sees no faults is the love of weak 
 boys and girls, and is little calculated to endure ; but 
 the affection that can continue after the knowledge of 
 them is acquired, that can seek to amend, and bear 
 them with indulgence, is the true, the rational love —
 
 STRATHERN. 165 
 
 the only sure foundation on which conjugal happiness 
 can be based," said Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " What is your opinion on this subject, fair young 
 lady V asked Mr. Rhymer, addressing himself to Miss 
 Sydney. " Would i/ou pardon the lover who could 
 detect a fault in you ? Mind, I assert that to do so 
 would be impossible, for heiresses are never known to 
 have any while they remain unmarried."'*' 
 
 Louisa Sydney blushed, and bit her lip, for every 
 allusion to heiresses pained and mortified her. " To 
 suppose heiresses free from faults would be as foolish 
 as to think that men of large fortunes had none. The 
 only difference, in my opinion, between the rich and 
 poor is, that wealth, by giving the power of gratifying 
 one''s inclinations, and rendering its possessor, to a 
 certain degree, independent of others, exposes him to 
 yield to temptations of self-indulgence from which the 
 poor are exempt, and, by exciting envy and jealousy, 
 causes his errors to be drawn more into notice." 
 
 " But self-indulgence, fair casuist, comprises in 
 itself a whole arcana of evil." 
 
 " Does not that depend on whether the propensities 
 indulged in are v/rong ?" 
 
 " Certainly," said Strathern, " for our noble ones 
 ousrht to be ever encouraojed. Some — the number is 
 not limited — have more enjoyment in dispensing the 
 goods of fortune on those requiring them than in ex- 
 pending their wealth in their own pleasures." 
 
 " But may not those very generous persons be in- 
 fluenced by ostentation, pride, and vanity, in thus 
 distributing their wealth ?" asked Mr. Rhymer,
 
 166 STRATHERN. 
 
 *' Why should we seek to attribute their liberality 
 to such unworthy motives V said Strathern. 
 
 " Would it not be wiser to be satisfied with the 
 good they bestow, than to analyze the motive V ob- 
 served Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " tf you join with your fair daughter and Strathern 
 against me, I shall have no chance in the argument,"" 
 replied Mr. Rhymer. " Nevertheless, I must remind 
 you that you have all wandered widely from the start- 
 ing-post, my hypothesis being, that ladies would be 
 little disposed to pardon the lover who hinted at a 
 fault, and my supposition that heiresses never could 
 have any until they married. But, bless me ! I 
 forget that I have an engagement with the Abbate 
 Manfredi at four o'clock ; and your pendicle reminds 
 me that it now only wants a quarter to that hour. I 
 leave my friend Strathern to continue the subject, 
 and I have no doubt he will satisfactorily prove to 
 Miss Sydney that she is and always must be in the 
 right ;" and, with a glance full of irony, Mr. Rhymer 
 took his departure. 
 
 " How completely he possesses the art of making 
 all with whom he converses dissatisfied with them- 
 selves !" observed Mrs. Sydney. 
 
 " Dissatisfied with him, I should say," replied 
 Louisa. " I am o^lad he did not offer his services to 
 
 o 
 
 escort us to the Vatican, for he would have endea- 
 voured to prove to us that whatever we chanced to 
 admire was precisely that which was least worthy of 
 admiration, and so spoil our enjoyment there." 
 
 " Poor Rhymer !" said Strathern ; " for poor he is.
 
 STRATHERN. 167 
 
 with all that might render him happy, except the 
 healthful appetite for happiness. But I excuse his 
 cynicism, from the conviction that it originates in a 
 physical cause — viz. a diseased stomach, which has 
 made more cynics than all the moral causes so fre- 
 quently assigned for them put together." 
 
 Strathern's carriage followed Mrs. Sydney's to the 
 Vatican ; and he was handing both the ladies from 
 theirs, when Lady Wellerby, her daughters, and 
 Lord Fitzwarren, came up to the spot. Fitzwarren 
 looked confused at the meeting, but not so the Lady 
 Olivia, who leant on his arm, and assumed an air of 
 triumph as she glanced at Louisa Sydney. 
 
 " I am sure, Mrs. Sydney, you will be glad to hear 
 of the approaching nuptials of my daughter Olivia 
 and Lord Fitzwarren," said Lady Wellerby. " A 
 long attachment on his part," whispered she, " but 
 he was so sly about it that I did not until lately sus- 
 pect its existence ; and Olivia is so guarded that, 
 until he had positively proposed, she never named it 
 to me." 
 
 Mrs. Sydney having made the usual and ex- 
 pected civil speech in reply, Lady Wellerby re- 
 sumed, " Yes, 1 was sure you would be glad ; the 
 truth is, Olivia and Sophia have refused so many 
 offers, and are so very fastidious, that I really began 
 to fear they would accept no one ; Lord Fitzwarren, 
 however, there was no resisting. He is in every way 
 unexceptionable, and so gifted, so clever and amusing, 
 that no girl could refuse him. Only think how 
 cunning he was. Oh, those men ! he paid attention 
 to other young ladies, while he thought only of Olivia,
 
 168 STRATHERN. 
 
 just, as he now confesses, to see what effect it would 
 have on her. And she, poor dear creature, showed 
 such dehcacy and self-command that he was van- 
 quished, and proposed for her a month sooner than he 
 intended." 
 
 " I wonder you are not tired of coming to the 
 Vatican," said Lady Olivia to Louisa Sydney ; " I 
 think it the most tiresome place in the world, don't I, 
 Lord Fitzwarren V 
 
 " Yes, and so do I too, Livy, except St. Peter's. 
 Strathern does not think so, I know, for he is never 
 tired of looking at all the statues, and vases, and 
 stone coffins, with figures carved on them. What do 
 they call them — sarco . . . .V 
 
 " Sarcophaguses," said Lady Olivia. 
 
 "Yes, sarcophaguses — I always forget the name. 
 But, I say, Strathern, they are much better than our 
 mode of burying people — the deal shell, the leaden 
 coffin, and the mahogany one, covered with velvet, 
 and silver nails, and coronets, for no good that I could 
 ever see, but just for the rats and moths to destroy." 
 
 " Oh, dreadful I How can you, George, talk of 
 any thing so horrible !" exclaimed Lady Olivia. 
 
 " Hang me, if I haven't a great mind to buy one of 
 those sarco — sarcophaguses, and have it sent to Eng- 
 land, to be ready when I kick the bucket ; and, if I 
 find one with any carvings of a fox-chase, I will, too, 
 for that would be just the thing for me." 
 
 " Keally, dear Fitzwarren, you will make me quite 
 ill if you talk in this dreadful manner," said Lady 
 Olivia. 
 
 " Why, you know, Livy, we must all die one day
 
 STRATHERN. 169 
 
 or other — we can't help it, do all we can — and one 
 may as well have the stone coffin ready." 
 
 Lady Wellerby having released Mrs. Sydney from 
 the confidential whispering, in which she revealed 
 many things, and made many boasts that had no ex- 
 istence except in her own fertile brain, Louisa and 
 Strathern were freed from witnessino^ the affected de- 
 monstrations of affection lavished, in looks even more 
 than in words, by Lady Olivia on her betrothed 
 husband, and the undisguised ill humour of Lady 
 Sophia, who glanced spitefully at her sister, and 
 opened not her lips during the time they were toge- 
 ther. 
 
 " A devilish fine girl, after all !" said Fitzwarren, 
 as he turned to look back at Miss Sydney ; " it's a 
 pity she is so shy and skittish." And he sighed 
 deeply, to the no small annoyance of his intended 
 bride, who, however, thought it more prudent to con- 
 ceal the displeasure she felt. 
 
 Louisa Sydney could not resist a smile when the 
 Wellerby party left them, and Strathern did more, 
 for, albeit unaccustomed to indulge much in laughter, 
 he positively could not control his risible muscles. 
 Mrs. Sydney too joined in the hilarity, being greatly 
 amused by the attempts made by Lady Wellerby to 
 prove that Lord Fitzwarren had never thought of pro- 
 posing for any one but Lady Olivia, and that his 
 attachment to her had been of long date. 
 
 The passion with which Louisa Sydney had in- 
 spired Strathern increased daily, and as her reserve 
 wore away he discovered in her such fine and noble 
 qualities that he felt his happiness wholly depended 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 STRATHERN. 
 
 on her. Though he confessed not his love, his every 
 glance revealed it ; and she now smiled when she re- 
 collected her suspicion of her mother having^ been the 
 object of his attention, and learned to value the con- 
 quest she had achieved. It was impossible to know 
 Strathern well without liking him. High-minded, 
 generous, and warm-hearted, with manners unaffected 
 and highly-polished, he possessed a peculiarly sweet 
 and even temper, and these qualities made themselves 
 duly appreciated, as they became unfolded in daily 
 intercourse with those he liked. Pride, or rather a 
 self-respect, carried to a degree that rendered him 
 painfully susceptible at any implied doubt of his prin- 
 ciples, and almost implacable towards those who be- 
 trayed such a doubt, was his besetting sin, and to this 
 was added a craving ambition to be loved for himself 
 alone, that quite equalled the similar desire expe- 
 rienced by the object of his affection. Regardless of 
 her wealth for itself, he was not sorry that she was 
 rich, for should he win her hand it would preclude all 
 doubt from his mind that he was preferred from mer- 
 cenary motives, and the frequent examples he had 
 seen of the all-powerful influence of this sordid senti- 
 ment had rendered him somewhat suspicious of the 
 preferences accorded by portionless girls to wealthy 
 suitors. But while he was glad that he was saved all 
 ground for doubt on this point, it never once occurred 
 to him that she he loved could entertain even the 
 shadow of one relative to his motives. Was he not 
 rich enough to be exempt from suspicion \ and was 
 not Louisa lovely enough to win him to her feet, 
 were she poor \ Yes, he would have sought her hand
 
 STRATHERN. 171 
 
 as a treasure above all price, had she been wholly un- 
 provided with the gift of fortune ; and so certain did 
 he feel of this, that he only remembered she was an 
 heiress in the pleasure of that fortuitous circumstance 
 excluding doubt of her being influenced by mercenary 
 motives. The sympathy in their tastes and senti- 
 ments, long apparent to Mrs. Sydney, was now felt 
 by both Strathern and Louisa. Often would she ex- 
 claim, when she heard him express opinions perfectly 
 in unison with her own, " Yes, I was certain you 
 would think so f and he would yield a ready assent 
 to her anticipated notions of Ms. 
 
 As the new-born and all-engrossing passion of love 
 developed itself in the breast of the fair Louisa, exist- 
 ence assumed a brighter aspect for her. Nature 
 seemed to have put on new charms ; the very air was 
 lighter, and visions of happiness floated through her 
 mind. Where now were all the resolutions she had 
 formed of coldly and deliberately examining into the 
 disposition and sentiments of Strathern before she 
 yielded to him her heart ? That heart was now irre- 
 vocably his, and she could no more recal it than if 
 she had never been its mistress. This afiection, which 
 had grown into life so gradually, was in full vigour 
 before she was aware of its extent and power, and was 
 now so closely interwoven with her every dream and 
 hope of happiness that to tear it from her heart would 
 be to destroy her peace for ever. Her mother would 
 smile as she noticed the more than usual care bestoAved 
 of late on her toilette by Louisa, and the deference she 
 evinced to the taste of Strathern. He had observed 
 one day that his favourite colours were pale pink, blue, 
 
 I2
 
 1 72 STRATHERN. 
 
 and lilac ; and from that hour those hues were in turn 
 invariably adopted by the lovely girl in the ribands 
 she wore. 
 
 O, Love ! how powerful is thy empire on youthful 
 hearts ; and how canst thou deck all in thine own gay 
 and brilliant tints ! To awake in the morning with 
 the certainty of meeting the object beloved in the day, 
 and to close the eyes at night to dream of him, is in 
 itself happiness enough to satisfy for a long time the 
 young and pure breast of her who loves for the first 
 time, and believes in the indestructibility of the pas- 
 sion with which she is inspired. 
 
 Strathern's approach made her heart beat quicker ; 
 his presence filled her soul with gladness ; and, content 
 with the present, she asked not, thought not, what the 
 future might bring. How did Strathern delight in the 
 chano-e operated in the idol of his affection ! Now were 
 fully unfolded to him the charms of her mind, so long 
 concealed beneath the reserve she had during so many 
 weeks maintained, and her sparkling and playful viva- 
 city, which invested her with new attractions, rendered 
 her more captivating than ever. 
 
 Strathern was not a vain man, and, like all who 
 truly love, he was not confident of success, and conse- 
 quently his dread of prematurely avowing his passion 
 prevented him from seeing what any one less interested 
 in the affair must have guessed, namely, that he need 
 not fear a refusal. This modesty on his part better 
 served his interest with Louisa Sydney than any other 
 line of conduct could have done ; and, had he been an 
 artful instead of a high-minded lover, he could not 
 have hit on a more effectual mode of subjugating her 
 
 1
 
 STRATHERN. 1 73 
 
 he sousfht to win. Women with refined sentiments 
 and proud minds are flattered by timidity in their 
 suitors, and are much more disposed to bestow their 
 heart on him who appears to doubt his chance of ob- 
 taining the gift than on one who seems sure of it. The 
 generosity of the female character, too, is called into 
 action by timidity, while its pride is alarmed by confi- 
 dence and assurance in a lover. Louisa felt that she 
 was beloved. A thousand indescribable but satisfac- 
 tory proofs daily conveyed this delightful conviction to 
 her breast. The heart has its instincts as well as the 
 reason, and all the efforts of the last would have been 
 unavailing to remove the impression of the first. She 
 passed some hours of every day in the society of Stra- 
 thern. She met his earnest gaze fixed on her face with 
 an expression of tenderness not to be mistaken, and she 
 saw that she occupied his whole attention. Yet he 
 avowed not his passion ; and, as day by day flew ra- 
 pidly by, and the season for leaving Rome advanced, 
 she became conscious of an anxiety and agitation, not 
 unmingled with dread, lest some obstacle existed to 
 prevent the declaration on which she felt her happiness 
 now depended. Her changeful cheek, her downcast 
 eye, revealed to Strathern that the moment was come 
 to claim that hand for which he had so Ions and ar- 
 dently sighed, and he determined to seize the first 
 opportunity chance might offer to declare his devotion 
 to the lovely Louisa. Something in his manner be- 
 trayed to her what was passing in his mind ; and now, 
 with that shyness and modesty inherent in the female 
 heart, she trembled at the approach of that avowal for 
 which she had lately so anxiously longed, and bashfully
 
 1 74 STRATHERN. 
 
 avoided affording the opportunity which it was evident 
 Strathern sought of reveahng his feelings to her. This 
 coyness on her part invested her whole manner with a 
 new grace. No longer was Louisa the reserved and 
 somewhat haughty heiress, questioning the motives of 
 her adorers, and betraying her disdain for those she 
 suspected of mercenary ones. She was now the bash- 
 ful, timid girl, tremblingly alive to the consciousness 
 of loving and being loved, and as wholly forgetful as 
 her admirer himself of her wealth, and the attraction 
 it might furnish. 
 
 The opportunity Strathern sought offered itself a 
 few days after he had determined on avowing his affec- 
 tion to its object. A visit to the Pamphilia Gardens 
 having been proposed by Mrs. Sydney, Strathern 
 attended them there. On arriving, they encountered 
 Lady Melbrook, who joined them, and, wholly occu- 
 pying Mrs. Sydney's attention, left Strathern time to 
 speak to Louisa alone, as she walked after her mother. 
 " Will you pardon me," said he, " if I snatch this 
 occasion of addressing you on the subject most dear to 
 my heart. I have long panted for an opportunity of 
 revealing that which you, most beloved Miss Sydney, 
 must have guessed." 
 
 " 0, Mr. Strathern ! not now, another time," said 
 Louisa, blushing like a rose when first its leaves open 
 to the sun. 
 
 " Only say that I am not wholly indifferent to you, 
 that I may hope, dear lovely Louisa — one word to 
 make me the happiest man on earth. You turn from 
 me — you will not tell me I may hope ! " 
 
 Louisa looked at him, and as her beautiful eyes
 
 STRATHERN. 1 75 
 
 met his thej revealed more eloquently than words 
 could have done all that was passing in her soul. She 
 gave him her hand, which trembled with emotion; 
 he raised it for a moment to his lips, and in that brief 
 interval both felt that their destinies were sealed — 
 were indissolubly united. Tears sparkled in the dark 
 and lustrous eyes of Louisa, and gemmed those deli- 
 cate blushing cheeks on which they shone like orient 
 pearls on a rose-leaf. She applied her handkerchief 
 to remove them, and when she had done so, Strathern 
 begged so earnestly to have it that it was accorded 
 to him, and after being repeatedly pressed to his lips, 
 was consigned to his breast. " May I speak to your 
 mother, dearest, best Louisa V whispered he. 
 
 " Yes," was softly murmured, and never had that 
 monosyllable sounded so sweetly in his ears before. 
 How fair seemed now the scene around the lovers ! 
 The luxuriant plants and odorous flowers, the rich 
 foliage and the limpid waters of the fountains, never 
 before looked so beautiful ; nay, even the formal 
 hedges of privet and box no longer appeared tame and 
 artificial, and the green lizards, as they sported in the 
 slanting sunbeams on the walls, instead of being 
 merely a bright green as usual, seemed to glitter like 
 emeralds. 
 
 *' Let me hear the sound of that dear voice again. 
 Speak to me, adored Louisa ! Call me Henry, for I 
 long to hear my name pronounced by those dear, beau- 
 tiful lips." 
 
 " Henry, dear Henry !" whispered Louisa, in ac- 
 cents so soft, so full of tenderness, that her lover 
 longed to throw himself on his knees, and to thank
 
 1 76 STRATHERN. 
 
 her, by pressing those small and exquisitely formed 
 feet to his lips. Both felt that to be the happiest 
 hour of their lives. All fear and doubt were now re- 
 moved, and, confident in the affection of each other, 
 the present was blissful, and the future offered to them 
 only bright and boundless vistas of endless, illimitable 
 love and felicity. 
 
 " Do not let me go to Lady Mangerstein's to-night, 
 dearest, but let me come and spend the evening with 
 you and your mother. I know Mrs. Sydney prefers 
 staying at home, and I should not like to find myself 
 in a crowd the evening of le plus beau jour de ma me^ 
 " I, too, could not bear to go," said Louisa, and her 
 lover thanked her with his eyes. 
 
 Mrs. Sydney turned to speak to her daughter, and, 
 with the quick perception peculiar to women, at once 
 saw that something had greatly excited her feelings. 
 But she perceived also, by Louisa's smile, that what- 
 ever had occurred was of a pleasurable nature, and the 
 fond mother was content. 
 
 Strathern seemed to tread on air for the rest of the 
 day, so elated were his spirits at the result of his brief 
 tete-a-tete with the beautiful Louisa. His passion for 
 her had positively increased since he had learned that 
 he was dear to her, for gratitude was now added to 
 the other motives for attachment which had previ- 
 ously existed in his heart for this lovely and amiable 
 girl. How few men of the present day, in whom 
 vanit}' and self-appreciation are such prevalent charac- 
 teristics, would have experienced or even understood 
 the feelings that filled his breast on this occasion ! 
 Most of his contemporaries would have deemed that
 
 STRATHERN. 177 
 
 it was the young lady selected who was to be grateful, 
 and not the lover, little dreaming that the preference 
 accorded by a youthful and pure-minded girl is a 
 blessing, the sense of which never should be forgotten 
 by him who is so fortunate as to have gained it. 
 They judge the hearts of women by their own; conse- 
 quently it is not to be wondered at that they do not 
 greatly prize such gifts, nor long retain them. Stra- 
 thern was widely different from this herd of vain and 
 selfish triflers, and was as grateful to Louisa Sydney 
 for her acceptance of his vows as if he possessed not 
 a single claim to justify his pretensions to her favour ; 
 nor, though now assured of her preference, was he, 
 like the generality of young men, disposed to take less 
 pains to please her than heretofore. No, he would 
 prove to her that she had not bestowed her heart on 
 one who was insensible to the inestimable value of the 
 gift, and his whole life should be devoted to the study 
 of her happiness. As he entered his apartment, he 
 desired that no visitor should be admitted, and threw 
 himself into a chair, that he might, free from inter- 
 ruption, give way to the indulgence of the blissful 
 emotions that filled his soul. In that chamber, how 
 many anxious cares, how many doubts and fears, had 
 he known since he had learned to love the fair Louisa ; 
 how often had her reserve and coldness sent him back 
 to it in despair, to recal every look of hers that 
 checked, every word that chilled, his new-born, but 
 faint hopes ! And now all fears were over. She had 
 sanctioned his affection — -nay, more, had let him see 
 it was reciprocal. How he blessed her for it ! and the 
 present, blissful as it was, would be followed by happi- 
 
 I 5
 
 1 78 STRATHERN. 
 
 ness still greater — that of her becoming wholly his ; 
 and had he not cause to be grateful to the lovely being 
 who had thus thrown the sunshine of her love over his 
 life, and rendered all that had been hitherto tame and 
 joyless bright and glowing 1 
 
 I
 
 STRATHERN. 1 79 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Wealth, fame, and honours, what are ye but toys, 
 
 That lure the man, as playthings lur'd the boy ? 
 
 As worthless, and as brief, the joys ye give: 
 
 For age, with its infirmities, soon comes, 
 
 And when it racks your frames, and chills your hearts, 
 
 What then avails that honour, fame, and wealth 
 
 Are yours ? They cannot lull disease, or pain. 
 
 Or bribe the tyrant Death, who hovers near, 
 
 To grant one little hour to waning life. 
 
 We left Lord Alexander Beaulieu meditating on 
 the best mode of making the acquaintance of Mrs. 
 Maclaurin, the widow of the rich stockbroker. As a 
 preparatory step to this desired end, he that day took 
 possession of apartments in the hotel where she had 
 fixed her abode, thinking that so close a vicinity to 
 her might furnish him with some opportunity of ac- 
 complishing the object which he had in view, and if 
 chance assisted him not, he determined on relying on 
 his own wit, ever fruitful in making, as well as 
 adroit in seizing, opportunities for carrying his plans 
 into effect. Decided on storming the citadel, he, like 
 an experienced general, first proceeded to reconnoitre
 
 180 STRATHERN. 
 
 the outposts, and so directed liis attention to the 
 entourage of the widow. A dame de compagnie^ in the 
 person of a middle-aged woman, whose poverty, and 
 not whose will, had induced her to consent to fill that 
 situation, was the humble companion of Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin, and humble, indeed, was the luckless person, 
 or she would not long have occupied it, for the lady 
 whose salary she received, and whose bread she ate, 
 was not one who would permit freedom of thought, 
 speech, or action, to any one dependant on her. Mrs. 
 Bernard, for so was the unfortunate companion named, 
 was a woman who had been severely schooled in 
 adversity. Steeped in poverty to its very dregs, she 
 had learned that though the bread of dependance is 
 bitter, it is, nevertheless, infinitely better than having 
 no bread at all ; and with this conviction, which had 
 been forced on her by sad experience, her sole object 
 was to conciliate Mrs. Maclaurin, and, by rendering 
 herself necessary to that lady, to secure a permanent 
 position in her establishment. Mrs. Bernard, the 
 orphan daughter of a poor clergyman, had in early life 
 married the curate of her father, who soon left her a 
 widow, to fight her way through a pitiless world, by 
 earning a scanty subsistence in the capacity of humble 
 friend or dependant to such ladies as were unblessed 
 with daughters, nieces, or cousins, to render com- 
 panionship in their homes. Much had Mrs. Bernard 
 suffered in the various dwellings into which her evil 
 destiny had thrown her, and patiently had she endured 
 these trials. Delicate in health, and broken in spirit, 
 she submitted to treatment, the injustice of which 
 inflicted many a pang, while she scrupulously con-
 
 STRATHERN. 181 
 
 cealed every symptom of dissatisfaction from those 
 at whose hands she received it, well aware that 
 neither remonstrance nor entreaty would procure any 
 amelioration to her condition. 
 
 Heroism is not confined to the great ones of the 
 earth, or to men alone. Often is it found in the poor 
 and humble, and exemplified in the constancy with 
 which, Spartan-like, they hide that which is preying 
 on their hearts. How many a pale cheek, attenuated 
 form, and downcast eye, reveals the grief which the 
 tongue never utters, and betrays the sorrow hushed 
 in the day, and indulged only when night gives a few 
 hours of solitude — that boon so prized by those whose 
 time appertains to another ! In all the situations held 
 by Mrs. Bernard, it had been discovered by those she 
 served that she was dull and unamusing. One lady 
 declared that her melancholy countenance gave her the 
 vapours, yet never tried by kindness to render it less 
 sad. A second said she was so inanimate and mo- 
 notonous, that her presence invariably cast a gloom 
 wherever she appeared ; and a third asserted that she 
 believed Mrs. Bernard had no feeling, she bore being 
 scolded with such composure ; while a fourth dis- 
 missed her on having one day observed a tear, which 
 she had vainly endeavoured to check, steal down her 
 cheek when severely reproved for some trivial forget- 
 fulness, alleging that she disliked sulky dispositions. 
 In one family she had lost her situation because the 
 Isidys fe?nme de chambre had threatened to leave, unless, 
 as she stated, that mopish toady, who was obliged to 
 say yes or no just as her mistress wished, was dis- 
 charged, for she had no idea of submitting to her inso-
 
 182 STRATHERN. 
 
 lence in not coming to the housekeeper's room to take 
 a sociable cup of tea, or a hand at cards when left at 
 home by her lady. 
 
 What woman, and, above all, one of a certain age, 
 and fond of dress, could hesitate between parting with 
 a dame de compagnie^ who only served to write her 
 notes, read her to sleep, ring the bell, and bear her 
 ill-humour, and 2^femme de chamhre initiated in all the 
 secrets of her mistress's personal defects, and well 
 versed in the mysteries of the toilette essential for 
 concealing them — one who possessed the art of making 
 false hair look very like the natural growth of the 
 head when seen at a distance, who applied pearl 
 powder and rouge so artistically as to induce, at least, 
 the wearer to believe that they might deceive others 
 for the hues of youth and health, and who could 
 remedy the want of embonpoint by the judicious appli- 
 cation of cotton and muslin, or dispose of any un- 
 becoming superfluity of it so judiciously as to give to 
 fat ladies some appearance of a shape. If women 
 capable of making such sacrifices as to resign such 
 skilful femmes de chamhre do exist, Mrs. Bernard had 
 not been so fortunate as to find them, and she soon be- 
 came convinced that the role of lady's-maid was a much 
 more important one in an establishment than that of 
 dame de compagnie^ who though in presence is never of 
 the company. But when she received her conge from 
 a situation where she had borne and forborne as never 
 human being before had done, because the lapdog of 
 the lady had bitten her so severely that he had 
 actually taken out a piece from her leg, and that his 
 mistress declared she ' feared it would make poor dear
 
 STRATHERN. 183 
 
 Fidelle sick,' the unhappy woman arrived at the con- 
 clusion that not only ladies'-maids but even lapdogs 
 were more necessary to their owners than dames de 
 compagnie^ a conviction which rendered her still more 
 dispirited and humble. Mrs. Bernard esteemed her- 
 self fortunate when engaged by Mrs. Maclaurin to 
 accompany her to Italy. The well-known wealth of 
 that lady, and an appearance of good humour in her 
 manner, led her to suppose that with her she might 
 escape some, if not all, of the trials and annoyances 
 which she had encountered in the situations she had 
 previously filled. The history of the parvenue widow 
 was well known in the English world, her vast wealth 
 and profuse expenditure having excited much attention, 
 and, as is usually the case on such occasions, having 
 drawn many animadversions to her origin. But the 
 on-dits relative to this reputed female Croesus, while 
 they rendered Mrs. Bernard aware that she was low- 
 born, uneducated, and ill-bred, led her to hope that 
 one who had been so prosperous would prove kind- 
 hearted and good-natured, and with this hope she 
 entered her establishment. 
 
 Mrs. Maclaurin was of Irish extraction, or, as she 
 herself termed it, of Irish distraction. Hired in a 
 provincial town in her native country as nurserymaid 
 in the family of Colonel Fairfax, whose regiment was 
 stationed there, she conducted herself so well that, 
 when the regiment was recalled to England, she, 
 nothing loth, accompanied his family to London, 
 being, as she expressed herself to her fellow-servants, 
 anxious to see England, and hoping to make her 
 fortune. They laughed at this idea, little thinking
 
 184 STRATHERN. 
 
 there was any chance of its being realised, for Molly 
 Malowny was neither handsome in her person nor 
 engaging in her manner. She possessed, however, one 
 gift, and that was her voice — clear, soft, and har- 
 monious, she sang the ballads of her native land with 
 a, sweetness of which not even the strong brogue 
 peculiar to her class could impair the effect. She 
 founded her hope of success in life on this solitary 
 attraction, and was, therefore, anxious to display it 
 whenever she could. By it she soothed the children 
 of Colonel Fairfax to sleep, and so accustomed did 
 they become to her melodious lullaby, that they re- 
 fused to slumber without it. Their attachment to 
 Molly conciliated the good-will of their parents 
 towards her, though they were not blind to a certain 
 degree of violence of temper, obstinacy, and false pride 
 but too frequently observable in her. 
 
 On a visit to Brighton one autumn, where Molly 
 attended her mistress and the children, chance led to 
 their taking up their abode in an hotel where lodged 
 the rich Mr. Maclaurin, a well-known stockbroker of 
 London. His apartments happened to be the next to 
 those occupied by the children of Colonel Fairfax, and 
 Molly^s nightly lullaby was as distinctly heard by 
 that gentleman as by those to whom it was addressed, 
 and produced as soothing an influence. The child of 
 Scots parents settled in trade in Ireland, Mr. Mac- 
 laurin first saw the light in the Emerald Isle, and 
 though he left it to enter as a clerk in a mercantile 
 office in London when he was in his seventeenth year, 
 and that now he had reached his seventieth, his ear 
 quickly recalled the sweet and plaintive songs to 
 
 1
 
 STRATHERN. 185 
 
 which it had been familiar in his youth, and with 
 them came back the memory of that joyous period, 
 awakening the first tender feelings he had experienced 
 for long, long years. He was surprised to find his 
 eyes moistened as he listened to the dulcet harmony 
 of the olden time, and drank in the notes with a 
 pleasure, pensive though it was, which the finest 
 Italian music, sung by the most admired prima donnas 
 of the opera, had failed to excite. When the strain 
 ceased, how he yearned to hear it again, and longed 
 to know who the syren was that had so charmed him ! 
 He dreamt that night of the days of his youth, of 
 the wild mountains, green valleys, and clear streams, 
 amid which his childhood had been passed. The cells 
 of memory, closed for above half a century, opened, 
 as it were, by the hand of an enchanter, gave forth 
 images and feelings which long, long had slumbered, 
 and the old man was again, in imagination at least, 
 invested with something of the warm feelings of other 
 and happier days, ere he had learned to bestow every 
 thought on the accumulation of gold, and find enjoy- 
 ment only in hoarding it. And the enchanter who 
 worked this miracle was no other than the clear, 
 sweet, but uncultivated voice issuing from the larynx 
 of Molly Malowny, who, unconscious of the effect 
 she was producing, "warbled her wood-notes wild" 
 for the sole purpose of inducing the slumber of her 
 youthful charge. 
 
 " Who sleeps in the next room to me, Donald V 
 demanded Mr. Maclaurin when his servant entered 
 his chamber the morning after he had first heard 
 Molly's song.
 
 186 STRATHERN. 
 
 " In glide troth, sir, I dinna exactly ken," replied 
 the Scotsman. 
 
 " I wish you would inquire, then," said his master. 
 
 " Weel, 111 do sae, sir, when I go to order your 
 breekfast." 
 
 " Go now, this moment, and find out." 
 
 " Hoot awa !" muttered Donald as he proceeded on 
 his errand ; " I dinna ken what the auld mon wants. 
 It is clear he has got a bee in his bonnet, puir auld 
 creetur ; but he munna be fashed, so I maun e'en gang 
 my gaits and inquire." 
 
 The chambermaid revealed to Donald that the 
 occupants of the bed-room next to his master's were 
 the children of Colonel Fairfax. 
 
 " Ay, there's the mischief. Bairns always make 
 sic an ado ; I warrant me they have disturbed the 
 maister, and I must say it was nae over wise of ye to 
 put the wee folk sae near an auld mon who isn't used 
 to the like, so find anither chamber for them, or e'en 
 give me maister ane." 
 
 " You are as slow as a top, Donald," said Mr. Mac- 
 laurin, as his servant entered the room. 
 
 " Weel a day, sir ; I'm na so lithe as I was, it 
 must be ouned — but waes me ! a2:e comes to all — to 
 rich and puir, to gude and bad — and nae ane can 
 help it." 
 
 " Have you found out who occupies the next apart" 
 ment ?" 
 
 " Ye mauna be fashed, sir ; it was an o'ersight in 
 me not to hae jist asked the womankind wlia makes 
 the beds, wha sleepped in the room hard by ye, but 
 the truth is, I jist forgot it till ye speered at me this
 
 STRATHERN. 187 
 
 morn, and I find it is the bairns of a Curnel Fairfax ; 
 nnco"* noisy, Til warrant me, but I hae tauld the 
 chambermaid she must e'en put them far away from 
 yer chamber, or else ye'll gae to anither yoursel." 
 
 " Then you're a fool for your pains, that's what 
 you are," said Mr. Maclaurin, in a greater passion 
 than Donald had seen him in for many years. " I woii^^t 
 have the children moved on any account. Why, I 
 would not have them leave the next room for a thousand 
 pounds." 
 
 " Hoot awa, sir ! a thousand pounds is a great sum ; 
 but I suppose ye'U be for moving yersel into anither 
 chamber." 
 
 " I tell you, I won't ; there they, poor little things, 
 shall stay, and here will I remain, as long as I can 
 manage it ; so go directly and tell the chambermaid 
 that no chanoje is to be made, and, hark you, find out 
 who the person is who sings in the next room." 
 
 " Puir body ! he's vara strange the day. I dinna 
 ken what has come to him. Mayhap it's a lightning 
 afore death. Auld Moggy Macpherson, wha had the 
 gift of the second sight, often said that when auld 
 men took strange fancies, it was an unco' bad sign, and 
 not canny, and the puir body is nae sae young as 
 he was fifty years ago. I should nae wonder if he was 
 near his end. Let me see, he's aulder than I am by 
 a matter of five years ; puir body, I'll be sorry to see 
 him gang to the grave, but it canna be helped, we 
 maun all go there sooner or later. But when he's 
 gone, I'll tak the legacy he told me he had put in his 
 will for me, and I'll gang to bonny Scotland, and 
 spend my auld days in comfort there."
 
 1 88 STRATHERN. 
 
 All this muttered old Donald to himself, as he pro- 
 ceeded in quest of the chambermaid, to countermand 
 the order he had lately given her, which countermand 
 produced the reflection from her, that '' She wished 
 some people knew their own minds, and then they 
 would give less trouble to other people." 
 
 " But wha sleeps in the ither room next my mas- 
 ter's r' asked Donald. 
 
 " A Methodist preacher." 
 
 " Does he sing V demanded Donald. 
 
 " Yes, I sometimes hear him singing hymns, and 
 a disagreeable voice he has, too, chanting through 
 his nose." 
 
 " Troth, then, the mischiers out at last ; that's 
 what the auld master meant when he tauld me to find 
 out wha was the person that sang in the next room. 
 Could you nae put the preacher in anither room f 
 
 " Well, I don't mind if I do, for he's a stingy 
 hound, and is not worth considering.*' 
 
 " What a time you have been away, Donald !" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Maclaurin, when his servant returned. 
 " You really get so old and infirm, that you are not 
 capable of performing your service. I must get a 
 young and active man, for you wear out my pati- 
 ence." 
 
 " Age is honourable, I've aye heard say," replied 
 Donald, " and I'm nae ashamed to show my grey 
 hairs, and I maun say it's unco' unkind in ye to speak 
 sae to yer puir old servitor, after all the years he has 
 passed in trying to please ye," and Donald shook his 
 grey locks, and took out his pocket-handkerchief, 
 which he applied to his eyes.
 
 STRATHERN. 189 
 
 " Have you found out who the person is that 
 sings V demanded Mr. Maclaurin, half melted by the 
 reproach of his old servant. 
 
 " I ha'e, sir ; "'tis e''en a Meethodist preecher wha 
 sings the hymns, and the housemaid will put him awa 
 to anither room." 
 
 " A Methodist preacher ! You and the chamber- 
 maid are a couple of fools together. I tell you the 
 voice I mean is a woman's voice, and the sweetest, 
 too, that I have heard these fifty years, and her songs 
 no more resemble the nasal twang of a Methodist 
 preacher than I am like — what I was fifty years 
 ago,"'*' said Mr. Maclaurin, heaving a deep sigh. " Find 
 out who this woman is. I must hear her sing again, 
 and as often as possible. Discover her position in life, 
 and lose no time about it. But stay, Til dress as 
 quickly as I can, and when I'm at breakfast, you can 
 make your inquiries.'" 
 
 "And sae His the woman -kind that's running in his 
 puir auld heed all this while !" thought Donald to 
 himself. " Puir auld body, I begin tae think he's 
 daft. Weel, it canna be helped, age weel come, and 
 auld men weel get into their dotage. God preserve 
 me frae gieing my thoughts to the women -kind when I 
 get to be seventy, for it's an unco' fashions thing ! but 
 I have got a matter of five years before me before I 
 get to be seventy, and five years is a long while ; and 
 I'll hae my legacy yet, and go to auld Reekie." 
 
 When Mr. Maclaurin had breakfasted, and he en- 
 joyed his matinal repast much less than usual, so 
 engrossed were his thoughts by the singer, he rang for 
 his servant, and was half tempted to quarrel with him
 
 190 STRATHERN. 
 
 for the time he took to answer the summons, as he 
 entered the apartment, panting and out of breath, 
 from ascending the steep stairs. 
 
 " Have you found out who the person isf de- 
 manded he, before Donald had time to close the door. 
 
 " I ha'e, sir ; she's an Irish lassie, and tends upon 
 the bairns of Curnel Fairfax." 
 
 " Irish ! I knew she must be. But is she a gover- 
 ness, or only a nursemaid, Donald V 
 
 " She maun be a servant, I guess, sir, for she taks 
 her meals wi' the ither servant folk, and I mind in the 
 families I ever kenned, the governess took her meals 
 wi' the maister and mistress of the house, or wi' the 
 bairns she was teaching.*" 
 
 " Yes, she must be a servant. I am sorry for it, 
 for I should like to have found her a grade above that. 
 A governess would have been the thing ; poor — that 
 unhappy class are all so — poor, and with an education, 
 I might have befriended her, and her music and ac- 
 complishments would have charmed my old age,""* 
 murmured Mr. Maclaurin, but not in so low a tone as 
 to escape the ears of his domestic. 
 
 " He's quite demented, puir gentleman," thought 
 Donald, " for it's clear that he's fashed to ken that 
 this lassie is a servant. Wae's me, his puir head is 
 quite crazed. At seventy to be thinking o' lasses ! 
 Who e'er heard the like, and I, wha ha not mair than 
 sixty-five, ne'er gie a thought to them ! Ay, ay, he 
 maun be demented quite, puir body !" 
 
 " Well, then, as she is a servant, there can be, I 
 think, no chance of s^ivinc^ offence in offerino- her a 
 present. Here, Donald, are five sovereigns," and
 
 STRATHERN. 191 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin opened his purse and deliberately 
 counted out the gold; "give these to the young 
 woman, and tell her that they come from an old man 
 who has been delighted with her singing, and who 
 will be much gratified by hearing it again, whenever 
 it is convenient to her." 
 
 " Five golden pieces ! Weel, I maun say yer o''er 
 leeberal of yer gold. If I give her one o' them the 
 lassie will be right glad ; but five ! — Hwad be a sin 
 and a shame."' 
 
 " I don't want your opinion on that point, Donald. 
 Do as you're bid." 
 
 " Mr. Maclaurin, I've been your faithful servitor 
 for thirty-sax years, three months, and sax days, and 
 till the day ye never offered me sic an affront, and it's 
 nae weel done o' ye ; for, tho' I am but a servitor, I 
 know my duty, and I am a reg'lar attendant at the 
 kirk, and it's nae right o' ye to send me a corrupting 
 a young lassie wi' yer siller." 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin opened his eyes to their utmost 
 extent, and gazed on Donald with perfect astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Why, what on earth can you have got into your 
 head, you stupid old blockhead V exclaimed he. " Me 
 send you corrupting a young woman ! Why, you 
 must be perfectly crazed — stark, staring mad !" 
 
 " Nae quite, sir. But what can a body think when 
 his maister asks him to find out all manner of par- 
 teeculars about a young lassie, and wants to send her 
 enow siller to pay a year's wages f 
 
 " It is only a suspicious old fool like you who could 
 form such wicked surmises about his master," replied
 
 192 STRATHERN. 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin, not a little ruffled by his servant's 
 reflections, yet, such is the weakness of human nature, 
 somewhat flattered, too, at being supposed still young 
 enough to have the views imputed to him on the 
 young woman in question. " So you refuse to take 
 the money to this person V 
 
 " Yes, sir, Tm fashed to be compelled to refuse to 
 obey yer orders, but I munna gae again' my con- 
 science and the princeeples of the kirk." 
 
 " You are enough to provoke a saint, that's w^hat 
 you are, you old blockhead ! but Til send you about 
 your business, and get a young, active man to wait on 
 me." 
 
 " ^^e maun e'en do as ye weel, sir ; and, in gude 
 troth, if ye maun gang about corrupting young lassies 
 wi yer siller, ye had better get a young man wha hae 
 nae conscience, and attends nae kirk, than a man wi 
 gray hairs like me." 
 
 " Leave the room, leave the room, I have no pa- 
 tience with you," exclaimed Mr. Maclaurin, really 
 discomposed by the pertinacity of Donald in attri- 
 buting improper motives for his generosity towards 
 the songstress whose voice had charmed him, and for 
 refusino: to convev his mft to her. 
 
 When, some time after breakfast, Mr. Maclaurin 
 retired to his bed-chamber — and truth compels us to 
 declare that he went there in the hope of hearing his 
 unseen syren sing again — he was delighted to find 
 her warbling forth the following song, the music in 
 w^hich abundantly atoned for the want of poetry in 
 the words, and for the rich Irish brogue in which 
 they were pronounced : —
 
 STRATHERN. 193 
 
 " Oh ! ask me not to leave my home, 
 My own dear native land, 
 Away in foreign climes to roam, 
 A wand'rer on each strand. 
 
 I cannot leave the mountains high, 
 
 That rise to meet the sun ; 
 Nor the green vales that 'neath them lie, 
 
 Through which clear streamlets run. 
 
 I cannot leave my father dear, 
 
 Nor quit my mother's side ; 
 I cannot chase the starting tear, 
 
 Nor e'er become your bride. 
 
 Go seek some maid who prizes gold, ' 
 
 And give to her your hand ; 
 But my true heart shall ne'er be sold — 
 
 I'll stay in mine own land." 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin scarcely allowed himself to breathe, 
 so fearful was he of losiiio; a sinole note of the sono- 
 and when it ceased he louojed to hear it a^jain. He 
 folded five sovereigns, the identical five that Donald 
 had refused to convey to the Irish maiden, in a paper, 
 and wrote a few lines on the envelope, stating that 
 " an old man, passionately fond of music, had derived 
 so much pleasure from hearing the person in the next 
 room sing, that he begged her acceptance of the sum 
 enclosed, and joined to it a request that she would 
 indulge him by singing in her chamber whenever he 
 was in his, which he would make known by gently 
 knocking on the partition." Having sealed this little 
 parcel, the next difficulty was how it could it be de- 
 livered. Donald would not take it, and to ask the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 STRATHERN. 
 
 waiter or housemaid to convey it would be to expose 
 the young Irishwoman to their suspicions and animad- 
 versions. What was he to do ? It occurred to him 
 that the safest and simplest plan would be to watch 
 until the songstress should be leaving her chamber, 
 and then to meet her, and put the billet into her hand. 
 He waited some time, but, finding that she did not 
 leave her room, he took courage, approached her door, 
 and having, with a trembling hand, tapped at it, was 
 told, in a voice much less musical than he anticipated, 
 to " Come in." He had expected that, on his knocking 
 at the door, the person he so much desired to meet 
 would come forward to open it, and so save him the 
 necessity of entering the chamber, which he, being a 
 very timid and staid man, wished to avoid, thinking 
 it indecorous. But, when he knocked again, the 
 words, " Botheration to ye, why canH ye come in when 
 yer towldf uttered in a loud and coarse tone, had 
 such an effect on him that he was retreating quickly 
 to his own room, when Molly Malowny, suspecting 
 that some one was hoaxing her, ran into the passage, 
 and, seeing Mr. Maclaurin retreating as rapidly as 
 his infirm legs enabled him to do, she pursued him, 
 and, shaking him roughly by the coat, exclaimed, 
 " And arn''t ye ashamed o' yerself, an ould man like 
 ye, to be comin** knockin' at a dacent girPs door, and 
 then runnin' away like a thief? What di ve mane 
 byitr 
 
 " Don't be angry — pray don't ; I meant no harm — 
 indeed I did not — but I wanted to give you this," 
 and he offered her the letter. 
 
 " Who is it from, and what is it about ? Spake
 
 STRATHERN. 195 
 
 out ; what are ye so shy and afeard for, if it isn't 
 Some mischief ye have in that ould head of yours f 
 
 " Take the letter, I beg of you ; that will explain 
 all." 
 
 Ere Molly Malowny could answer, and while the 
 letter was in her hand. Colonel and Mrs. Fairfax sud- 
 denly turned an angle in the passage, and were close 
 to her. Both master and mistress looked the surprise 
 they felt. 
 
 " What means thisf asked the colonel sternly. 
 
 " Indeed, sir, and that's what I want to know,"' 
 replied Molly Malowny. " This ould gintleman, and 
 more shame for him, comes to my door, when I was 
 at work thinkin' o' nothing at all, and raps. ' Come 
 in,' says I, little dhramin' who was there, but, in- 
 stead of coming in, he raps again. ' Botheration to 
 ye,' says I, ' whoever you are ; why can't ye come in 
 when yer tould V But not a bit does any one come, 
 so I puts down my work, and by the same token 'twas 
 the child's chimey * my misthress gave me to make, 
 and I runs to the door and opens it, and what should 
 I see but this same ould man runnin' away as fast as 
 a lamplighter ; and so, as I saw he wanted to make a 
 fool of me by knockin' and runnin' away, I jist made 
 bould to folly him, and ax him what he maned by 
 such doin's to a dacent girl like myself, and he says 
 he only wanted to give me a letther, and puts this 
 into my hand. That's the whole truth of the matter, 
 I can make my affidavy, Curnel ; so T hope ye won't 
 
 * Chemise. 
 
 K 2
 
 196 STRATHERN. 
 
 be after layin"* the blame of the ould man^s bad be- 
 haviour on me." 
 
 *' If this young woman's statement be correct, sir," 
 said Colonel Fairfax, " you alone are blameable in 
 this affair."" 
 
 " Yes, sir, her statement is perfectly correct, and I 
 should be sorry that any act of mine, however inno- 
 cently meant, should entail any disagreeable conse- 
 quences on her. Do me the favour, sir, of reading 
 the few lines I addressed to her, and they will explain 
 what now appears inexplicable, or worse." 
 
 " Do, Curnel, if ye plase, read the bit o' writinV' 
 said Molly, " for as I don't know a letther in the 
 alfy-bit, and can't tell a B from a bull's fut, I'd like 
 to know what the ould man maned." 
 
 " I feel in so awkward and embarrassing a position 
 that 1 must entreat your indulgence, madam," ob- 
 served Mr. Maclaurin, turning to Mrs. Fairfax, and 
 bowino'. " Be assured I had not the least intention 
 of offering any insult or improper advances towards 
 this young woman — my age ought to be my best 
 guarantee against the suspicion of any such inten- 
 tion ; but a passion for music, and the gratification 
 which this person's voice afforded me, have led to this 
 embarrassing position, which I greatly regret. I hope, 
 however, that you will permit the young woman to 
 retain the gift offered to her without any evil motive." 
 Colonel Fairfax opened the letter, and submitted it 
 to his wife, who, having read it, smiled, and told 
 Molly Malowny she was at liberty to accept the offer- 
 ing intended for her. Molly took the five sovereigns,
 
 STRATHERN. 197 
 
 dropped a curtsey to Mr, Maclaurin, and said, " Fm 
 greatly beholden to ye, sir, and if it's my singin"* plases 
 ye, sure Til sing for ye as often as ye like, purvided 
 the Ournel and the misthris has no objection ; and I 
 ax yer pardon for shakin' ye so roughly, but what 
 could a dacent girl do in such a case, and I thinking 
 ye were wanting to make game of me V 
 
 Colonel Fairfax and his wife motioned to their 
 nurserymaid to retire, and Mr. Maclaurin, looking 
 heartily ashamed of himself, and truly distressed, 
 bowed to them both, and withdrew. 
 
 " Five goolden sovereigns !"' said Molly Malowny, 
 as she counted them over. " Well, sure I am a lucky 
 girl ; and to have got 'em for nothing at all at all, 
 but jist for singing thim ould songs my granny taught 
 me, and I never thinking that any one in the wide 
 world was listening to me, except the childer ! Yes, 
 indeed, Fm a lucky girl, that's what I am. And, 
 now I think of it, my dhrame is come true ; sure 
 didn't I dhrame that I saw a purse of goold in a dog's 
 mouth, and I gave him a bone, and he let the goold 
 fall into my lap. The ould man is the dog, and here, 
 sure enough, is the goold. Faith, I'll sing to him 
 from mornin' till night, if he'll give me such presents 
 as this. Let me see — five and five makes tin, and 
 five is fifteen, and five more would make twenty. If 
 he was to give me three more fives, sure I'd be as 
 rich as a Jew. My fortune would be made, and I 
 might dhress finer than any of them ladies'-maids that 
 turn up their noses at me bekase I'm not as well 
 dhressed as they are. Sure I could buy a silk gown, 
 and a bonnet with flowors in it, and a mantilly like
 
 198 STRATHERN. 
 
 what I see the ladies'-maids wear, walking on the 
 Stejne. What a qiiare ould gentleman, to knock at 
 my door, and then run away like mad ! I gave him 
 a good shaking though, poor ould man, for I thought 
 he was wanting to play tricks on me. And then the 
 fright I got when I saw the Curnel and my mistress 
 close at my elbow, before I dhreamt they were near 
 me, and they looking so black at me ! Well, it's all 
 over now, and they know I wasn't to blame ; and Fve 
 got the five sovereigns, so it has been a lucky day 
 for me."
 
 STRATHERN. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Unloved, unhonoured, feeble, old, 
 Worn out in hoarding useless gold, 
 What now avails the glittering store, 
 When youth, and health, and peace are o'er ? 
 It cannot lull disease or pain. 
 Or bring back other days again. 
 How vain is that for which through years 
 We've toil'd, a prey to doubts and fears ! 
 How willingly would we bestow 
 The dross for which no use we know, 
 Could it but purchase us once more 
 The feelings that were ours of yore ! 
 
 When Mr. Maclaurin again found himself in the 
 solitude of his chamber, many gloomy reflections 
 passed through his mind. 
 
 " What is the good of all the wealth I have for so 
 many long and weary years laboured to amass V thought 
 he. " Has it brought me happiness, or can it afibrd 
 me enjoyment ? I have been so intent on accumulating 
 it, that I forgot to cultivate friendship, or even to form 
 acquaintances ; I have outlived my kindred, and stand 
 alone in the world, a solitary, unloved, old man ; with
 
 200 STRATHERN. 
 
 no one to lean on in descending the vale of years, no 
 friendly hand to smooth my pillow, no kind companion 
 to cheer my interminable evenings, or to enliven my 
 dull hearth ; no one to whose happiness I can contri- 
 bute, or who cares for mine. My wealth seems to me 
 like a mockery, since it avails me not to secure any one 
 of the mental enjoyments for which my heart yearns. 
 As well might the dying miser, reduced to his desperate 
 state by having denied himself all the comforts, nay, 
 more, the common necessaries of life, find pleasure in 
 the contemplation of the gold which he feels he must 
 soon leave behind him, as for me to find consolation in 
 my wealth under present circumstances. How utterly 
 worthless it now appears, when a trifling portion of it 
 would suffice to furnish the few wants left me ! I look 
 with envy on all who have children to care for them in 
 the dreariness of old age, or even friends to lighten by 
 companionship its gloom. 
 
 " 1 dreamt not of all this when I was spending my 
 youth and manhood in the cankering cares entailed by 
 the unceasing toil of money-making. Only let me be 
 rich I was my constant thought, and, when I am so, 
 then will it be time to retire from labour, to take mine 
 ease, and to live surrounded by those comforts and 
 luxuries which I now deny myself. During the first 
 years of my toil, I fixed the period of my retirement 
 from business at that when I should have amassed the 
 sum of twenty-five thousand pounds. My desires were 
 then moderate ; young blood circulated briskly in my 
 veins, and liealth prompted the desire for many enjoy- 
 ments which prudence denied. All pleasures were 
 postponed until the twenty -five thousand should be my
 
 STRATHERN. 201 
 
 own, and that epoch was impatiently yearned for. It 
 came — slowly, to be sure, but it did come — and then, 
 had I been wise, I might have retired from toil and 
 care, and cultivated love and friendship. But the 
 demon Habit had linked itself with the desire for wealth. 
 I had grown accustomed to privations and solitude ; 
 and, when the promptings of avarice led me to continue 
 to toil until I could add another twenty-five thousand 
 to the one already acquired, I mistook it for the sug- 
 gestion of prudence, and worked on until I became 
 master of half a ' plum.' That gained, I wished to be 
 the possessor of a whole one. I had grown used to the 
 dreary routine of life, which at first had been so irk- 
 some to me ; the sap of my existence had dried up, the 
 blood circulated but feebly in my veins, the desire for 
 enjoyment was gone, and I was only appalled by the 
 solitude in which I found myself. My kindred had, 
 one after another, left the earth : I had refused to 
 minister to their wants, or to add to their comforts, 
 until I had first obtained the sum I deemed necessary 
 for the security of my own future support. That sum 
 had been doubled, tripled, quadrupled, and now there 
 was none left who had any claim on my affection to 
 share it. The motive for toil was gone, but the habit 
 of it continued to enslave me. 
 
 " Wealth begets wealth ; I am now richer, far richer, 
 than I ever expected to be ; but what avails it ? The 
 solitary pleasure in which I have ever indulged has 
 been music, and my frequent visits to the Opera my 
 only extravagance. But, even then, though the dulcet 
 sounds charmed me, they appealed not to my heart ;. 
 they touched no chord that vibrated ; they awakened 
 
 k5
 
 202 STRATHERN. 
 
 no association of the olden time. It was reserved for 
 the notes of the young woman I encountered here to 
 do that ', and, ever since I heard her sing, my thoughts 
 are continually recurring to the days of my youth, and 
 my heart craves for a continuance of the sweet though 
 sad emotions her voice called forth from their long and 
 death-like slumber. Could I but secure that voice to 
 soothe my solitude, to bring back the memory of other 
 days, how gladly would I bestow a large portion of my 
 useless wealth in the acquisition ! This colonel and his 
 wife, to whom the singing of the Irishwoman affords 
 no pleasure, who are, perhaps, ignorant that she has a 
 tine voice, possess that for which I would pay largely. 
 Why should I not endeavour to obtain it I Yes, I 
 will secure her independence, if she will give iip her 
 engagement in the family with whom she now lives, 
 and enter mine. Her service shall be lis^ht. I will 
 require nothing from her but to sing to me every 
 evening to lull me to sleep, as she does the children 
 she now tends. Am I not grown into second child- 
 hood, and do I not require her song to soothe me as 
 much, ay, and more too, than the innocent creatures 
 to whom the fatigue of the long day'*s joys and pastimes 
 ensure unbroken repose V 
 
 Such were the cogitations that filled the brain of 
 Maclaurin, as hour after hour rolled away in the soli- 
 tude of his chamber. Had he noted down his thoughts, 
 they would probably have expressed what we, gentle 
 reader, have done for him ; and the result was, that he 
 determined on appealing to Colonel Fairfax, and, after 
 explaining the dreariness of his position, and the yearn- 
 ing he felt for the voice of his nurserymaid, entreat,
 
 STRATHERN. 203 
 
 as the greatest favour that could be acceded him, that 
 the said nurserymaid should be transferred to his ser- 
 vice. But then came the reluctance, the shamefaced- 
 ness, of laying bare to a man, and a soldier, too — a 
 class which, par parenthese^ the shy citizen believed to 
 be made of sterner materials than other men — the 
 secret feelings so long pent up in his withered heart. 
 He shrank from it as most men in a similar state 
 would J for they all know that when sympathy or pity 
 is required, it must not be sought from man. No, he 
 would appeal to Mrs. Fairfax ; a woman would under- 
 stand, would commiserate, his situation, and he remem- 
 bered and yielded assent to the truth of the lines : — 
 
 " In woman's breast hath 
 Pity made its home." 
 
 Yes, he would reveal to Mrs. Fairfax all that had 
 passed in his mind relative to her nurserymaid, and, 
 as he recalled the gentle expression of that lady's 
 countenance, he felt assured she would put no harsh 
 interpretation on his views or conduct. He seized 
 a pen to write to her, but, as he opened his blotting- 
 book, Molly Malowny commenced a song often heard 
 in his youthful days, and every note of which was 
 fondly remembered. How strange is the power of 
 association ! The very tone and pronunciation peculiar 
 to the class of the singer, in general so far from 
 agreeable to the ears of the natives of other countries, 
 sounded most pleasantly to his, for the rich brogue 
 reminded him of the accents heard in childhood — the 
 happiest, indeed the only happy, days of his existence. 
 Whether it was the joy occasioned by the gift of the
 
 204 STRATHERN. 
 
 five guineas, a larger sum than she had ever pre- 
 viously possessed, or the desire of pleasing Mr. Mac- 
 laurin, whom she knew to be in the next room, which 
 influenced the songstress, we cannot take upon our- 
 selves to say, but never before had Molly Malowny 
 sang so well as when her clear melodious voice poured 
 out the following ditty : — 
 
 " O, Honour, honey, but love is bonny 
 
 A httle while when it's just quite new; 
 But when it's old, love, it does grow cold, love. 
 
 And melts away like the morning dew. 
 
 In days gone by, love, when thou wert nigh, love. 
 My looks, my thoughts, all were turned to thee : 
 
 And when we parted, oh ! broken-hearted, 
 I prayed that death soon would set me free. 
 
 And thou didst swear, love, that thou wouldst e'er, love. 
 
 Continue faithful and true to me ; 
 That no persuasion should e'er occasion 
 
 Thy heart to change in its constancy. 
 
 At length returning, my bosom burning 
 
 With all the love of departed years, 
 I flew to meet thee, once more to greet thee 
 
 With words of fondness — with smiles and tears. 
 
 We met — oh ! never, if I live for ever, 
 Shall I forget thy calm, careless glance. 
 
 The look of coldness that checked the boldness 
 Of my too warm and assured advance. 
 
 At first in anguish did I weep and languish, 
 And mourn thy falseness with bitter tears ; 
 
 But soon from thee, love, I learn'd to see, love, 
 How vain are passion's sweet hopes and fears."
 
 STRATHERN. 205 
 
 The old man became positively enraptured as he 
 listened, and so greatly did her song excite him that 
 he plucked up courage to request an interview with 
 Mrs. Fairfax, instead of communicating with her on 
 paper, a task which he somewhat dreaded, from being 
 conscious that he was little skilled in the epistolary 
 art. He rang the bell, and sent the waiter who 
 answered his summons with a request to be permitted 
 to wait upon Mrs. Fairfax. An assent being given, 
 he quickly availed himself of it, and the mild coun- 
 tenance and gentle manner of that lady so much 
 h sured him that he soon conquered his habitual shy- 
 ness and nervous hesitation, and made her acquainted 
 with his feelings. The most eloquent description of 
 his loneliness and isolation might have produced less 
 effect than the plain and simple exposition of it made 
 by him. Her feelings became interested for the old 
 recluse, and as she compared his position with her 
 own, blessed with a loving and beloved companion, and 
 with children who gave her a new interest in life, 
 she learned to pity still more deeply the being who, 
 with all his wealth, had no one to cheer the dreari- 
 ness of old age, or to watch with tenderness over its 
 decline. 
 
 " Had I but your servant to sing to me, madam, I 
 should be content ; and if you would only resign her 
 to me, you would for ever insure my gratitude," said 
 Mr. Maclaurin. 
 
 " I pledged myself to her mother, from whose roof 
 I received her, that I would not part from her while 
 she conducted herself properly, and that, if I ever 
 became dissatisfied with her, I would send her back to
 
 206 STRATHERN. 
 
 her parents. To resign her to you merely that she 
 might sing would be to expose her to the certainty of 
 contracting habits of idleness, and this I could not 
 reconcile it to my conscience to do.'^ 
 
 " My housekeeper, an old and steady woman, would 
 perhaps find employment for her — give her sewing, or 
 something light for her to work at, madam." 
 
 "It is to be feared, sir, that a young woman aware 
 that she was chosen for her voice would be but little 
 disposed to follow the dictates of your housekeeper, 
 and the introduction of Molly Malowny into your 
 house would most likely lead to many disagreeable 
 scenes with your old servants." 
 
 " Molly Malowny, did you say, madam I Where — 
 from what part of Ireland does she come V 
 
 " I engaged her, sir, at Kilkenny, near to which 
 place her family reside." 
 
 " Yes, it is — it must be so. She must be the 
 daughter of Molly Malowny — my first, my only 
 love." 
 
 " She is the grand-daughter of a person of that 
 name, sir," replied Mrs. Fairfax, " and inherits her 
 fine voice, though not her good looks, for I have seen 
 the old woman, who even still retains a considerable 
 portion of the beauty for which she is said to have 
 been once remarkable, though so far advanced in 
 life." 
 
 " Ah, madam, it is no wonder the tones of the 
 voice and the old songs produced such an efiect on my 
 feelings. I must not lose sight of this young woman ; 
 I would rather give up thousands — ay, tens of thou- 
 sands, than not have her to sing to me ; I would
 
 STRATHERN. 207 
 
 rather — yes, by all that is good, I would do that 
 which would make all who know me laugh, and call 
 me an old fool in his dotage. I would mar — yes, 
 marry her, rather than lose that voice which brings 
 back the memory of the only happy days of my life 
 to me." 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax started with surprise. 
 
 " I see you are startled, madam, at the thought of 
 my marrying a servant. But, consider, 1 am alone in 
 the world ; known only on the Exchange as the rich 
 old Maclaurin, whose threshold neither friend or ac- 
 quaintance ever crosses. What care I who may laugh, 
 provided I have one honest heart to be grateful to me, 
 and that sweet voice to cheer me I Yes, madam, I see 
 it is the only way to secure the blessing I crave. 
 The entrance of Molly into my house in any other 
 character than that of its mistress — as my wife — would 
 be attended with many annoyances to her and to me 
 I'rom my old servants, who have grown self-willed, but 
 my marriage with her will remove all difficulties, But, 
 perhaps, she may object ;" and the poor old man looked 
 as alarmed as if he thought the poor nurserymaid, 
 with the scanty wages of eight guineas a-year, would 
 be likely to refuse the rich Mr. Maclaurin. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax smiled, and said she did not think 
 that Molly, who was a very prudent woman, would 
 refuse so advantageous a marriage. " Nevertheless,'"' 
 resumed she, " would it not be as well for you to take 
 some time for consideration, before you make her 
 the ofter? Would it not be right to consult some 
 friend r 
 
 " I have no friend, madam j and on this occasion I
 
 208 STRATHERN. 
 
 am glad I have not, for a friend would be sure to ad- 
 vise me against what he would call an imprudent mar- 
 riage, but which, I know, will give me one gleam of 
 happiness before I die. I repeat to you, madam, I am 
 alone in the world. "" 
 
 " Molly, though a virtuous and well-disposed young 
 woman, is totally uneducated — she can neither read 
 nor write." 
 
 " No matter, madam, no matter : I shall not re- 
 quire her to do either. I shall ask nothing at her 
 hands except to sing to me ; nothing else, positively 
 nothing." 
 
 " Before I take any step, you must allow me to 
 consult my husband." 
 
 Colonel Fairfax entered the room precisely at this 
 moment, and his wife, with peculiar tact and delicacy, 
 explained to him the purport of Mr. Maclaurin's 
 visit. 
 
 " If the singing of our nurserymaid is the sole 
 cause of your preference, allow me to observe, sir," 
 said Colonel Fairfax, " that you might meet with 
 many young persons, accomplished musicians, and 
 well-educated, who, I doubt not, would be happy to 
 become your wife, without your contracting a mar- 
 riage which must be considered derogatory to a gen- 
 tleman of your wealth." 
 
 " Perhaps I might, sir, perhaps I might. There 
 are always, and so much the worse, plenty of poor 
 young women, well born and brought up, who, for 
 sake of bread, would marry an infirm old man like 
 me, in preference to earning a precarious subsistence 
 as governesses to tiresome children, or companions to
 
 STRATHERN. 209 
 
 ill-tempered old women. But their singing, however 
 fine and scientific it might be, could not produce the 
 same effect on my feelings — could not transport me 
 back to the days of my youth, and bring before me 
 scenes vanished long years ago from my mind." 
 
 Colonel Fairfax suggested, as his wife had previ- 
 ously done, the prudence of Mr. Maclaurin's consult- 
 ing some friend, and of not deciding on so grave a step 
 as matrimony, before he had taken due time for re- 
 flection ; but the old man was firm, and declared that, 
 if Molly Malowny would accept his hand, nothing 
 should prevent his marrying her. 
 
 " If you, madam, who have been so kind and indul- 
 gent in listening to my statement, will condescend to 
 question this young woman, leaving to her free and 
 unbiassed choice whether she will become my wife or 
 not, you will add to the obligations I already owe 
 you ; and if you will question her in my presence, that 
 I may judge whether she feels any repugnance to ac- 
 cept my offer, I shall be still more obliged." 
 
 The bell was rung, Molly Malowny was summoned, 
 and in a few minutes after she made her appearance. 
 But who shall paint her joy and surprise when her 
 mistress explained to her the intentions of Mr. Mac- 
 laurin in her favour ! 
 
 ^' And is it in earnest the good ould gentleman is, 
 ma'am V asked Molly. 
 
 " Quite so," replied Mr. Maclaurin. 
 
 " Why, then, if that's the case, faith here's my 
 hand, and welcome. God bless you for a nice kind ould 
 gentleman, and long may ye live to reign over us ! 
 I'm ready and willing — and proud, too, into the bar-
 
 210 STRATHERN. 
 
 gain — to become yer honour's lawful wife. Sure it's 
 a great favour and honour, and one I never could ex- 
 pect, and never will forget ; but I hope you won't 
 take me away from the CurneFs childer until my 
 misthris — and a good kind one she has been to me — 
 has purvided herself with another nurserymaid in my 
 place." 
 
 This trait of simplicity and gratitude pleased 
 Mr. Maclaurin, who entreated that Mrs. Fairfax 
 would be so obliging as to order for Molly a wardrobe 
 suitable to the position she was going to fill, and, with 
 the Ooloners consent, condescend to be present at the 
 nuptials. 
 
 The requests were graciously complied with, and 
 Molly, half wild with joy, seized the old man's hand 
 and kissed it, saying, " Long may ye live, ye jewel 
 of an ould gentleman ! Sure 'twas a happy day for 
 me when my songs pleased ye, and that I first set me 
 eyes on the ould face of ye J Won't there be rejoicing 
 at Ballamacrash, when they hear the news that Molly 
 Malowny is going to be married to a gentleman — a 
 raal gentleman, that sits down in the presence of the 
 Curnel and the misthris, and who keeps a body sar- 
 vant? They'll never believe it, that they w^on't, 
 unless they see it under the Ournel's own hand. Oh ! 
 cushla ma chree ! what a pity it is I can't write to 
 them and tell them my luck !" 
 
 " You mentioned Ballamacrash, I think ; do you 
 come from there f 
 
 " Arragh, don't I ! Faith, and I do, and all my 
 people before me. Sure I never left it 'till I came to 
 the Ournel's family, and a lucky day that same was.
 
 STRATHERN. 211 
 
 Oh ! when my granny hears of it, she'll be for jump- 
 ing out of her skin with joy. ' Go to England, Molly,' 
 says she, ' though, troth, Fm loth to part from ye ; 
 but, if the Curnel and his lady will take ye, go, for 
 England is a great place, and many a one that goes 
 there makes a fortune. Was not there Mr. Patrick 
 Maclaurin — the Lord foro^ive him for all the o^rief he has 
 caused me !' "* — Mr. Maclaurin started — " ' went there 
 when he was a gorsoon, and people say he made heaps 
 of goold ; and there are many others also who made 
 their fortune in that big city, London.' When oncest 
 poor granny began to spake of Mr. Patrick Maclaurin, 
 it wasn't asy to stop her, for the ould love had left a 
 nest-egg in the poor heart of her, which, though never 
 hatched, was still presarved." Mr. Maclaurin shook 
 his head slowly, and sighed. " Granny thought as 
 much of Mr. Patrick as if he was the Lord Leftenant 
 — yes, faith, and more — as if he was Mr. O'Oonnell 
 himself. Sure, as she often tould me, she refused to 
 marry an honest boy, thinking all along that Mr. Patrick 
 would come back and marry her when he had made 
 a fortune ; not, as she owned, that ever he had said he 
 would ; but, when a man says he loves a girl, sure what 
 else can she expect, even though he comes of genteeler 
 people than her ? But, after she waited twelve years 
 without even so much as hearing from him, she was 
 persuaded to marry my grandfather, who knew that, 
 though she had loved Mr. Patrick, she never forgot that 
 unless he married her she could be nothing to him. 
 And, while my grandfather lived — and he didn't die 
 till he was an ould man — she never mentioned the name 
 of Mr. Patrick ; but afterwards, and especially since
 
 212 STRATHERN. 
 
 she has grown so ould, she likes to be talking of the 
 time when she was a girl, and Mr. Patrick loved her, 
 which is strange enough, for she can't remember things 
 that happened much later/' 
 
 The prolix reminiscences of Molly were patiently 
 listened to by Colonel and Mrs. Fairfax, but most 
 attentively and with deep interest by Mr. Maclaurin. 
 
 " Yes," said he, " your grandmother was a good and 
 a virtuous woman .'"* 
 
 " And did ye know her, sir V asked Molly. 
 
 " I knew her well, for I am the Patrick Maclaurin 
 of whom you heard her speak." 
 
 " And is it possible ? Well, who'd have thought 
 it ! And is it yerself that is the ould sweetheart my 
 granny used to be croonin * after? But sure you must 
 be greatly althered, for she used to say ye were as fine 
 and purty a boy as could be seen in all Ireland. But 
 ould age spoils every one."" 
 
 Molly felt, as soon as she had uttered this thought- 
 less truth, that she had done wrong, and immediately 
 tried to rectify it by adding : — 
 
 " But sure we'll all grow ould ; and, though je're 
 not so young as ye were fifty years ago, ye're still a 
 mighty comely ould gentleman, troth and ye are, 
 though I say it that oughtn't to say it, bekase I'll 
 soon be yer wife." 
 
 It was evident that Mr. Maclaurin was infinitely 
 less pleased with his bride elect's conversational powers 
 than with her vocal ones, which he evinced by betray- 
 ing several symptoms of dissatisfaction during her 
 
 * Lamenting over the memory of.
 
 STRATHERN. 213 
 
 reminiscences of her grandmother. Though far from 
 refined, he was nevertheless struck by the extreme 
 coarseness of Molly'^s tone and manner, and it was only 
 the recollection of her charming voice that reconciled 
 him to the step he had already taken, and the irrevo- 
 cable one he had arranged to take. 
 
 " Would it not be best, sir, that your marriage 
 should be solemnized in London ? " observed Mrs. 
 Fairfax. 
 
 " Perhaps so, perhaps so ; yet" — and he hesitated 
 — "I should rather not return home to Finsbury 
 Square until after my marriage. My housekeeper, 
 Mrs. Macgillacuddy, is rather a termagant," and here 
 the old man looked alarmed. " Old servants, you 
 know, madam, think themselves privileged, and I would 
 rather avoid her reflections previous to the event. 
 Once it has occurred, she will feel that it is useless to 
 2:ive them utterance, and will either continue to dis- 
 charge her duty quietly, or leave my service." 
 
 " Ah, then, is it afeard of yer ould housekeeper ye 
 are V interrupted Molly. " Never mind her, ayllaun,* 
 let me alone for takin' yer part. I'll soon take the 
 pride out of her if she begins to be saucy, I can tell 
 her," and Molly's countenance lighted up with anger. 
 
 *' No, no, you must let her alone. I would not have 
 any quarrels in my house on any account ; and Mrs. 
 Macgillacuddy and Donald are great friends, and would 
 combine directly, and disturb my comfort, if either of 
 them were provoked." 
 
 " Lord love ye for a good ould soul ! Little Td 
 
 * My dear.
 
 214 STRATHERN. 
 
 mind either of them, or both put together, if my blood 
 was up ; and only let me hear them offend ye, and if 
 I don't give them tit for tat, and butter for fish, my 
 name isn't Molly Malowny ! I'll stand to ye, ye ould 
 duck of a man, that I will ; so fear no one." 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Fairfax found it difficult to con- 
 trol their risible faculties, while Molly was promising 
 to afford support and protection to her future spouse, 
 who seemed to entertain almost as great a dread of 
 her as of Mrs. Macgillacuddy. 
 
 " You could oo to an hotel in London and remain 
 there until after the marriage is performed," said 
 Mrs. Fairfax, pitying the nervous old man's embar- 
 rassment. 
 
 " But then, madam, I could not have the satisfac- 
 tion of your and the Colonel's presence, to which I 
 attach great importance." 
 
 " I shall have business in London in a few days," 
 observed Colonel Fairfax, " and it will put me to very 
 little inconvenience to remain there until after the 
 ceremony takes place." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, sir ! a thousand thanks ! I 
 shall never forget your and this lady's kindness," and 
 he bowed lowly to Mrs. Fairfax. 
 
 " If I might suggest a plan," said the Colonel. 
 
 "Certainly, sir, certainly." 
 
 "It would be, that we immediately provide our- 
 selves with a successor to Molly, and consign her to 
 the care of an humble but respectable friend of ours 
 in London — an excellent woman, who was many years 
 the companion of Mrs. Fairfax's mother, and who 
 will, at our request, not hesitate to receive her. This
 
 STRATHERN. 215 
 
 plan will preclude any observations being made on the 
 station of your future wife, who, marrying out of the 
 house of a lady in whose establishment she has filled 
 no menial capacity, will enter yours in a manner more 
 befitting your position in life." 
 
 " An excellent plan, sir, a most excellent plan, and 
 I am deeply indebted to you for the suggestion." 
 
 " We will leave Brighton to-morrow, take Molly 
 with us, place her with Mrs. Middleton, the lady 
 mentioned, and you can follow as soon as you please." 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin took his leave, but, when quitting 
 the room, Molly approached him, and dropping a low 
 curtsey, said, " I'm greatly obliged to ye, sir ; and 
 when we're married FU do my best to please ye, and 
 make ye happy, for sure it's a proud and a great day 
 for the likes o' me to be chosen by a nice ould gentle- 
 man like ye to be his lawful wife." 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin nodded to her good-naturedly, and 
 desired, with much more the air of a master than of 
 a suitor, that she would not expose herself to cold lest 
 her voice should be injured, letting it be plainly seen 
 that he only preferred her for this attraction. 
 
 Mrs. Fairfax was no sooner left alone than she 
 commenced giving Molly good advice on her future 
 conduct, but, although it was respectfully received, it 
 was evident that the ignorant girl was too much elated 
 with her good luck, as she styled it, to profit as much 
 as she ought by such counsel. 
 
 " Oh ! then, ma'am, only think what a surprise 
 'twill be at Ballamacrash when they hear that I am 
 married to a gentleman who keeps a body sarvant, and 
 has a great fortune ! I wonder what will Nancy O'Shea
 
 216 STRATHERN. 
 
 and Biddy Hoolaglian say to it ? They that used to 
 be jibing me, bekase I wasn't as purty as they are. 
 How jealous they'll be, to be sure ! And the boys 
 that used to look down on me, too — Paddy Murphy, 
 Tim Oallaghan, and Rody Maguire, that wouldn't 
 dance with me at the Patherns, bekase they said I was 
 ugly. I'd like to know how they'll look when they 
 see me dhressed for all the world like a raal lady, with 
 an elegant veil over my face, and a pocket handker- 
 cher trimmed with lace in one hand, and a fine 
 smellino-bottle in the other, like the grand lady I saw 
 in a carriage the other day." 
 
 " Think not of such trifles," said Mrs. Fairfax. 
 " Think only of showing your gratitude to Mr. Alac- 
 laurin." 
 
 " Troth, ma'am, Fll do my best to show it ; but it's 
 onlv natural that I should think of the surprise and 
 envy of all them that used to be crowing over me, 
 when they come to know that I'm almost equal to a 
 raal lady ! And, ma'am, as the ould gentleman said I 
 might have new clothes, I'd be so thankful if you'd 
 let me buy a gown I saw in a shop-windoAv yesterday. 
 It's a most elegant dhress, quite fit for a lady — a 
 yellow ground, with scarlet sthripes, and green sprigs 
 between 'era." 
 
 xslrs. Fairfax could not forbear smiling at Molly's 
 taste, but told her that, as they were to proceed to 
 London next day, it would be useless to make any 
 purchases at Brighton. 
 
 " Do not mention it to any one here," said 
 Mrs. Fairfax, " that you are going to be married." 
 
 " Mayn't I tell it to the lady's-maid in the next
 
 STRATHERN. 217 
 
 room to me, who looks so haughty whenever she meets 
 me, just for all the world as if I was not fit to be 
 sj^oken to f 
 
 " No, you must not name it.'' 
 
 " Oh ! what a pity, for she would be so vexed ! But 
 I hope, ma'am, you'll let me tell it to the chamber- 
 maid, for she is a mighty dacent civil girl." 
 
 " No, Molly, I must interdict your naming it to any 
 one." 
 
 " Well then, ma'am, I won't tell it, but it's very 
 hard to keep a secret that, if known, would vex so 
 many. Troth, it's mighty hard," and Molly sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 If, while reflecting on his engagement, any doubts 
 of its wisdom crossed the mind of Mr. Maclaurin 
 during the remainder of the day, they vanished when 
 he retired to his bed-chamber, and heard Molly pour 
 forth one of her Irish songs. Her voice, somewhat 
 tremulous from joy, sounded more sweetly than ever 
 in his ears ; and he forgot the plain face, uncouth 
 figure, strong brogue, and vulgar manners of his 
 syren, in the delight her singing afforded him. And 
 this rich and dulcet voice was henceforth to be at 
 his command — was to soothe him to repose, and to 
 awaken him from slumber ! Yes, he was glad that 
 he had decided on possessing it at any price ; and with 
 this feeling of satisfaction he resigned himself to 
 sleep. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 218 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Oh, weak old man ! and wilt thou take for wife. 
 To have and hold through all the years of life, 
 A creature rude, unfashioned, in whose mind 
 A sympathy with thine thou ne'er ean'st find ? 
 'Tis folly, madness, thus, in thine old age. 
 In such unsuited wedlock to engage. 
 Pause, and bethink thee ere it be too late, 
 And thou may'st still escape a wretched fate." 
 
 Two days after the departure of Colonel Fairfax 
 and his family from Brighton, Mr. Maclaurin also 
 left it, and, contrary to his former intention, returned 
 to his own house, instead of going to an hotel. Having 
 come back a week sooner than he was expected, his 
 housekeeper was at little pains to conceal the dis- 
 pleasure she felt at this unusual proceeding of his. 
 
 " Gude troth, sir,'' said she in her shrillest tone, 
 " I think ye might have just sent a wee line or two 
 to say ye were a coming hame, and not tak a body by 
 surpreese, when aw things are at saxes and sevens. 
 Ye maun blame yersel, and na"* ither folk, for finding 
 naethin in it's place ; its nae my fault, and it's unco'
 
 STRATHERN. 21.9 
 
 hard that a puir body is to be fashed because ye dinna 
 ken yer ain mind.'' 
 
 " Hold your tongue, and don't plague me," replied 
 Mr. Maclauriu, with a courage he had not for many 
 years displayed, for, angry at finding his house in a 
 state of discomfort, he was by no means disposed to 
 submit to the ill-humour of Mrs. Macgillacuddy. 
 
 " Hand my tongue ! And is it e'en come to this ? 
 I did na"* expect that, after thirty-sax years o' hard 
 service, and in my auld age, I was to be tauld to 
 hand my tongue by a maister I have served wi mickle 
 zeal and honesty ; but there's nae gratitude now-a- 
 days, and faithful servitors meet but an unco' bad re- 
 turn from those they hae toiled, and moiled, and 
 worked late and early for." 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin walked away from the angry house- 
 keeper, muttering something only half intelligible 
 about his determination to be master of his own 
 house. 
 
 " And a puir hand ye'll make o' being maister in 
 yer ain hoose," said Mrs. Macgillacuddy ; " much ye 
 ken aboot managing, puir auld body ! But I'll gang 
 to Donald, and hear what's the meaning of aw this 
 ill-humour I There maun be something mair than's 
 common in the wind that the auld man taks on for 
 my telling him a wee bit o' my mind, when he neever 
 during thirty-sax years was fashed at it before." 
 
 Donald told his old friend and fellow-servant all he 
 knew — nay, more, all he suspected. She turned up 
 her eyes, and raised her hands in utter astonishment 
 at the narration. " And sae ye're to be turned 
 awa, because ye'll nae earn the wages o' sin, and help 
 
 L 2
 
 220 STRATHERN. 
 
 the auld demented body to corrupt the lassie wf his 
 goold. I ne'er heard the hke. Wae's me to hae seen 
 the day ! But, if ye gang awa, Donald, it shall 
 never be said that Moggy Macgillacuddy let ye de- 
 part alane. Til e'en gang wi' ye to Scotland, and we 
 maun get the blessing o' the kirk, and wi' the savings 
 I hae in the funds, and Fve a matter of twa thousand 
 pounds, joined to yer ain savings, we may be com- 
 fortable in our auld age, and leave this wicked auld 
 body to suffer for his ingratitude." 
 
 " But the leegacies. Moggy, the leegacies ! If we 
 o:ano: awa, he'll nae leave us a bawbee. I ken him 
 weel, and our thirty-sax years o' hard labour will 
 have gone for naething." 
 
 "It's vara true, Donald, vara true. It's hard to 
 lose the reward o' sae mony years' toil and trouble ; 
 and especially after we hae been maister and meestress 
 here so long ; he never meddling nor interfering in 
 the management, never looking at the beels, nor 
 finding: faut wi' what we deed. We were the maisters 
 in aw, except finding the siller ; and we had, I maun 
 say, a vast deal o' pickings and savings, one way or 
 anither. We're unco' young, too, to leave off service, 
 and gie up the hope of the leegacies. The auld body 
 canna last long. Why, he's a matter o' seven years 
 aulder than I am, and three aulder than yoursel, 
 Donald." 
 
 " Ye're in error. Moggy, that's what ye are. The 
 auld maister has five years mair than me ; and, as to 
 yersel, I dinna believe ye hae a day less than my ain 
 age, sae dinna be setting up to be sae young, for it's 
 unco' reediculous."
 
 STRATHERN. 221 
 
 " Hoot awa, mon ! dinna be trying to pass yersel 
 off as being my age. I'd hae ye to ken that Tm 
 mickle younger. Ye could munch yer oat cake and 
 cook your parritch before I ever opened my een in 
 this world o' care, and, if I thought o' marrying ye, 
 it was because folk say a man should be mony years 
 aulder than his wife ; tho** I don't know why, for we 
 women folk wear much better than the men, wha, 
 puir bodies, look auld and worn out, while we are 
 fresh and youthful-looking. But I suppose it makes 
 them unco' ceeviler to see us sae comely ; and ye ken, 
 for wha does not, that yer sect is maun deesposed to 
 be teeranical." 
 
 Here the sound of the bell of Mr. Maclaurin inter- 
 rupted the angry rejoinder Donald was about to utter, 
 a rejoinder that would probably have broken off for 
 ever the matrimonial projects so long entertained by 
 both, and the execution of which was only postponed 
 until the death of their master should leave them at 
 liberty to unite their fortunes and return to Scotland ; 
 so the housekeeper was left solus to reflect on the 
 juvenile pretensions of Donald, and to smile with con- 
 tempt at his doubts of the correctness of her state- 
 ment relative to her own age. 
 
 " Donald," said Mr. Maclaurin, " I sent for you to 
 say that it is not my intention to retain you or Mrs. 
 Macgillacuddy any longer in my service ; but, as you 
 have both served me faithfully for many years, I 
 mean to reward you with a gift of five hundred pounds 
 each, the sum T had intended to bequeath you in my 
 will. A person to take your place, and a housekeeper 
 to fill hers, will be here in a v/eek. You will both
 
 222 STRATHERN. 
 
 deliver up to your successors all that you have in 
 your charge, and, that done, I will fulfil the promise 
 I have now made you.'" 
 
 " Ye maun just do as you please, sir. Fm fashed, 
 sairly fashed, ta leave ye, and sae will Mrs. Mac- 
 gillacuddy be also, but if 'tis yer pleesure that we 
 should gang from yer hoose, why we maun e'en do as 
 ye wish, but it's a sair trial to us baith." And 
 Donald took out his handkerchief and held it to his 
 eyes, believing that this display of his sensibility and 
 attachment could not fail to melt his old master to 
 pity, and perhaps induce him to revoke the sentence 
 of dismissal. 
 
 Mr. Maclaurin had, however, determined on get- 
 ting rid of his two servants, being well aware that his 
 marriage would draw on him, not only their animad- 
 versions, but the expression of their sentiments, which 
 for many years they had most unceremoniously been 
 wont to utter. He felt that his wife ought to find at 
 his house servants wholly unacquainted with her 
 former condition, and prepared to treat her with 
 respect ; and from neither Donald, who knew her in 
 her menial capacity, nor Mrs. Macgillacuddy, to whom 
 he would be sure to communicate his knowledge of her 
 original position, could the future Mrs. Maclaurin 
 hope for the deference due from domestics to their 
 mistress. Through the aid of Colonel Fairfax and 
 his kind-hearted wife, suitable servants were to be en- 
 gaged for the new menage^ and this arrangement being 
 concluded, Mr. Maclaurin felt a little more at his ease. 
 He v/as astonished to find how polite and respectful 
 his old servant Donald and the housekeeper had grown
 
 STRATHERN. 223 
 
 ever since he had given them notice to quit, and he 
 was not a httle pleased and proud of his own courage 
 in thus vanquishing two persons, who, truth to say, 
 had for thirty-six years made him feel that they were 
 more masters of his house than he was. They were 
 perfectly astounded at his determination, and longed, 
 especially Mrs. Macgillacuddy, to give utterance to 
 the bitter sarcasms which occurred to her on the occa- 
 sion. But prudence and self-interest, the best checks 
 to bad temper, or, at least, to the exhibition of it to- 
 wards those who can punish it by withholding pecu- 
 niary assistance, operated so promptly on the mind of 
 the irascible old housekeeper, that not the least symp- 
 tom of her anger was revealed, and civil speeches and 
 smooth looks met her master whenever she crossed 
 his path. 
 
 The trousseau of Miss Maloimiy^ as Molly was now 
 styled, was commanded by Mrs. Fairfax, and Mr. Mac- 
 laurin paid a daily visit to his bride elect, who sang 
 for him the whole repertoire of her Irish ballads to his 
 infinite satisfaction. Her hostess had, at the request 
 of Mrs. Fairfax, undertaken to instruct her in the first 
 rudiments of politeness, and the common usages of 
 society. She, above all things, recommended the 
 adoption of a reserved and subdued manner, and an 
 avoidance of loquacity, as the best means of not ex- 
 posing Miss Malowny's want of education and igno- 
 rance of the rules of good breeding. Molly exhibited 
 a praiseworthy docility in attending to the counsel of 
 the worthy Mrs. Middleton, though she would some- 
 times ask that lady whether Mr. Maclaurin might 
 not take it ill if she did not make herself ao-reeable.
 
 224 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Sure, ma'am, it isn't mannerly for the woman of 
 a house to sit hke a mum-chance, as they say in Ire- 
 land, instead of talkin' an' laughin', an' jokin' and 
 makin' every wan around her welcome and merry." 
 
 The mildness and good sense of Mrs. Middleton 
 soon won the confidence and regard of the unsophisti- 
 cated Irishwoman, and Mr. Maclaurin observed with 
 pleasure that his future wife became more civilized 
 under her tuition. Mrs. Fairfax, too, took a lively 
 interest in her ci-devant nurserymaid, instructed her 
 how to dress, and, by example, not less than by pre- 
 cept, eft'ected a great reformation in the appearance 
 and manner of Miss Malowny. 
 
 " Oh ! then, ma'am, it's yourself that's the jewel of 
 a woman — of a lady, I meant to say — and sure ye're 
 a rale one, and no mistake, to be taching the likes o' 
 me to behave genteelly. If I could but rade and 
 write, the rest would come aisy to me, and I'd study 
 hard to learn how to spake proper, and be able to 
 read a prayer-book, for sure 'twould look quite as if I 
 was a born lady to see me reading my prayers." 
 
 " Mrs. Middleton will, I am sure, have no objection 
 to instruct you," replied Mrs. Fairfax; and that day 
 Molly was provided with a copy-book and copper-plate 
 to commence her lessons. The alphabet was soon 
 mastered, but the spelling somewhat tried the patience 
 of both mistress and pupil. But what will not perse- 
 verance achieve? and Molly's was truly indefatigable. 
 Mrs. Fairfax often found it difficult to restrain her 
 inclination to laugh when she found Miss Malowny, 
 book in hand, with a triumphant air spelling " ab, eb^ 
 ib, ob, ub," and then Molly would say — " Oh ! then,
 
 STRATHERN. 225 
 
 ma'am, isn't it myself that's coming on finely with 
 my lessons ! just ax Mrs. Middleton whether I am 
 not an attentive scholard." 
 
 At length the day fixed on for the celebration 
 of the nuptial ceremony arrived, and Colonel and 
 Mrs. Fairfax and Mrs. Middleton were present at it. 
 Molly conducted herself with great propriety until the 
 clergyman asked whether she would take Patrick Mac- 
 laurin to be her husband, &c., when she answered, 
 " Faith, that I will, please your reverence, for what 
 else brought me here but to marry him T' — a reply 
 that made all present, not even excepting the clergy- 
 man himself, smile : but a keen observer must have 
 noticed that Mr. Maclaurin's cheeks grew red with 
 shame. The happy couple, as every newly-married 
 pair is called in newspaper phrase, went to pass the 
 honeymoon at Southend, and the bride beguiled the 
 time spent on the road so agreeably by her singing 
 that the bridegroom was in the happiest frame of 
 mind imaginable, and congratulated himself on having 
 secured for life one whose notes charmed him more 
 than all the bank-notes he had for so many years 
 toiled to acquire. So great was his satisfaction 
 that, on his return home, he invested in the funds a 
 thousand pounds for each of Colonel Fairfax's two 
 children, and presented a silver soup tureen and four 
 silver covered dishes to the Colonel, with a handsome 
 necklace, pair of earrings, and bracelets, to Mrs. Fair- 
 fax, as marks of his sense of their kindness to his 
 wife. Nor was Mrs. Middleton forgotten. Mr. Mac- 
 laurin put a five hundred pound note into her hand 
 the morning of his marriage, and pressed her, as a 
 
 l5
 
 226 STRATHERN. 
 
 favour, to become a guest at his house as frequently as 
 her convenience would admit. 
 
 Behold Mrs. Maclaurin now established in Finsbury 
 Square, surrounded by every comfort, for her husband's 
 heart opened by the magical key, music, that human- 
 izer of stubborn ones, he was now disposed to be as 
 generous as he had hitherto been sordid. Money was 
 forwarded to his wife's family in Ireland, to render 
 their position there more respectable, and nothing was 
 wanting to Molly's happiness but the poAver of writing 
 a full account of her grandeur, as she styled it, to her 
 former friends and companions, for the express pur- 
 pose, as she confessed, of exciting their envy and jea- 
 lousy at her good fortune. The wish of confounding 
 her late fellow-servants by exhibiting her finery often 
 occurred to her ; but the prudent advice of Mrs. Mid- 
 dleton, who became a frequent guest at Finsbury 
 Square, precluded the indulgence of this vulgar desire. 
 Three hours a-day, while her husband was at his 
 counting-house, were devoted by INIrs. Maclaurin to 
 the acquisition of reading and writing under the tuition 
 of Mrs. Middleton, and the evenings were given to 
 music, the old husband growing every hour more par- 
 tial to the songs of his young and simple wife, and 
 more indulgent to her. Great was her joy, when at 
 length she could peruse a child's story-book, and was 
 able to write her name. Mrs. Middleton had some 
 difficulty to make her understand that she was to write 
 Mary instead of Molly Maclaurin ; but, when it was 
 explained to her that Mary was the genteel mode, she 
 adopted it, nay, requested Mr. Maclaurin to call her 
 thenceforth by that name. The servants engaged for
 
 STRATHERN. 227 
 
 the Finsbury Square establishment were not slow in 
 detecting- that their mistress was not, as they said, 
 " much of a lady," or long accustomed to the comforts 
 and elegances of life which she now enjoyed. Her 
 exultation in their possession, and her ostentation in 
 displaying them, convinced the four domestics that the 
 old man had made a low match, and, with this convic- 
 tion, they were well disposed to take liberties with their 
 new mistress, which they dared not contemplate in- 
 dulging in had they not felt assured of her ignorance 
 and vulgarity. But soon did they find themselves 
 checked in their first advances towards impertinence 
 by the intrepid Mrs. Maclaurin, who quickly discovered 
 the slights aimed at her, and as quickly resented them 
 with a degree of warmth and determination that pre- 
 cluded any future attempts of the same kind, although 
 the airaressors remained still more convinced of the 
 low origin of their mistress by the very anger their 
 conduct had excited in her breast. " A real lady,'' 
 said one of them, talking over the affair, " would never 
 have seen what we were driving at ; but, if we intend 
 to keep our places, and, as times go, it is the wisest 
 thing we can do, it will be necessary for us not to let 
 her see that we know she is no more a gentlewoman 
 than ourselves." 
 
 " Marry come up, indeed," said the housemaid, who 
 also enacted the role of femme de chamhre to her mis- 
 tress, " rd be very sorry to be no genteeler than her ! 
 Why, if she was a lady, would she ask me every time 
 she puts on a new dress, or cap, or bonnet, whether I 
 ever saw such elegant ones before, and whether she 
 isn't a lucky woman to have such a power of fine things I
 
 228 STRATHERN. 
 
 It's my opinion that she was a ballad-singer in the 
 streets, and that the old man took a fancy to and 
 married her for her singing." 
 
 " Vm sure you are right,'' said the cook. " I thought 
 I remembered her face ; and, now I think of it, Fm 
 sure I saw her singing before our door in my last 
 place." 
 
 The judicious advice of Mrs. Middleton preserved 
 Mrs. Maclaurin from the commission of many follies, 
 and so far weidied with her as to induce her to observe 
 the utmost respect and attention towards her husband. 
 Nevertheless, the natural disposition and froward tem- 
 per of the lady remained unchanged, and it required no 
 little exertion of self-control to prevent the ebullition 
 of the latter from interrupting the peace of her aged 
 partner. Mrs. Middleton had expected that, when 
 Mrs. Maclaurin was enabled to read fluently, she 
 would take a pleasure in the perusal of good books, 
 and therefore selected for her a choice number of vo- 
 lumes. The worthy woman was, however, disappointed 
 in this expectation, for, after having looked over a few 
 pages of each, her pupil declared that, instead of afford- 
 ing her any amusement, they quite "bothered" her, 
 and that the newspaper was the only thing she liked 
 to read, for she there found an account of lords, and 
 ladies, and fine parties. 
 
 " I thought," observed Mrs. Middleton, " from your 
 impatience to learn to read, that you wished to study." 
 
 " Not I, faith," replied Mrs. Maclaurin ; " I only 
 wanted to be able to read my prayer-book in church, 
 without the dano-er of beinir lauohed at for turnin"- it 
 upside down, as I was when at Mrs. Fairfax's by her
 
 STRATHERN. 229 
 
 maid, Avhen, not wishing to let that consaited creature 
 see that I couldn't read, I pertended to do so ; and I 
 learned to write only to be able to let all my old friends 
 in Ireland know how much better off I am than they 
 ever will be.'' 
 
 This 7idive confession of her pupiPs incitement to 
 learn astonished and disgusted Mrs. Middleton, and 
 she endeavoured to make her comprehend the amuse- 
 ment as well as advantages to be derived from the 
 study of history and belles lettres. 
 
 " What will history teach me except a pack of old 
 stories about people dead and gone, that I don't care 
 about, half of which mayn't be true, and, if true, that 
 I wouldn't give a pin to know ; but, as for Bell's let- 
 ters, if they are anything like Bell's Life in London, 
 which I saw the other day in the servants' pantry, 1 
 wouldn't object to read it now and then, for it seemed 
 mighty entertaining." 
 
 Mrs. Middleton found all her efforts to correct the 
 native vulgarity and coarseness of Mrs. Maclaurin 
 unavailing. She was incorrigible ; so her kind in- 
 structress was compelled to be satisfied with the pro- 
 gress her limited capacity allowed her to make in 
 acquiring a less vulgar mode of expressing her senti- 
 ments, though she could not elevate them, and in 
 gradually assuming a more refined tone and bearing 
 than could have been expected in one so exceedingly 
 coarse and illiterate as Mrs. Maclaurin had originally 
 been. She observed with great surprise how little 
 interest Mr. Maclaurin evinced in the mental im- 
 provement of his wife, and in this point the extreme 
 selfishness of the old man was very apparent. Pro-
 
 230 STRATHERN. 
 
 vided that she was ready to sing him to sleep in his 
 easy chair every evening, he was content, and required 
 no other exercise of her conjugal duty or affection : 
 but if a cold, or any other indisposition, impaired her 
 voice, he betrayed his annoyance with little regard to 
 the suffering which she might have to endure, seeming 
 to consider her as a musical instrument, on which so 
 much of his happiness depended that it must not be 
 out of tune. Luckily for his comfort, Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin's was a very robust constitution, so that her 
 voice was rarely affected by the changes in tempe- 
 rature which influence so much the voices of others, 
 and he was seldom deprived of his evening's solace, 
 and consequently did not regret the extraordinary 
 marriage he had made. His wife, however, was less 
 satisfied ; she wished for a larger theatre to exhibit 
 her fine clothes and riches ; the admiration of her 
 servants did not suffice to satisfy her growing vanity ; 
 but her husband pertinaciously adhered to his long- 
 established habit of seclusion, and permitted no visi- 
 ters, except Mrs. Middleton and one or two of his old 
 clerks, who were occasionally invited to partake the 
 Sunday's dinner. 
 
 " I would not mind being shut up in this manner," 
 would Mrs. Maclaurin say to Mrs. Middleton, " if I 
 had not such elegant clothes to wear. But what's the 
 good of being finely dressed, when there's no one but 
 you, the ould clerks, and the servants to see me V 
 
 But, though discontented, she had the prudence to 
 conceal every symptom of the feeling from her caro 
 sposo, who, three years after their nuptials, was 
 snatched from this life by an apoplectic fit, while
 
 STRATHERN. 281 
 
 listening to one of his favourite songs, after having 
 partaken somewhat too largely of turtle soup that day 
 at dinner. On opening his will, made but a few 
 months previously, it was found that the whole of his 
 vast wealth, with the exception of a legacy of five 
 thousand pounds to Colonel Fairfax, half that sum to 
 Mrs. Middleton, and a thousand to each of his clerks, 
 was bequeathed to his widow. In the joy occasioned 
 by the acquisition of this wealth, all regret for the 
 donor was forgotten ; and Mrs. Middleton, for the 
 first time, began to be aware that her ci-devant pupil 
 was neither so kind-hearted nor orateful as she ouo-ht 
 to be. Her opinion, however, had now little weight 
 with the rich widow, who, much sooner than decency 
 permitted, commenced asserting her independence of 
 all advice, and her aversion to those who were prone 
 to offer it. 
 
 No sooner were the mortal remains of her husband 
 consigned to the grave than Mrs. Maclaurin declared 
 her intention of proceeding to Brighton, and com- 
 manded a splendid chariot to be built for her, and 
 every other adjunct suitable to a lady of large fortune 
 to be prepared. She refused to adopt the ordinary 
 dress worn by widows, saying, it looked mean and 
 poor, and attired herself in the richest velvets and 
 satins, trimmed with an abundance of black lace, 
 adhering only to the colour for mourning, but reject- 
 ing the customary materials. At Brighton, her 
 ostentation and singularity of manners and costume 
 attracted all eyes. Her wealth was magnified ten- 
 fold by public rumour, and her low origin gave rise to 
 a hundred tales, each, if possible, more absurd than
 
 232 STRATHERN. 
 
 the other. By one report she was said to have been 
 a gipsy, whom the old merchant in his dotage had 
 met on a common in Hampshire. By another she 
 was asserted to have been a ballad-singer, whom he 
 encountered in the streets — in short, there was no 
 end to the stories invented and circulated about her. 
 She was followed, stared and laughed at ; and this 
 notoriety, instead of displeasing or embarrassing her, 
 gratified her vanity, and encouraged her to commit 
 still o^reater follies. She had a levee of milliners and 
 dressmakers every morning at her hotel, and exhibited 
 all the airs and insolence peculiar to a parvenue with- 
 out education or good taste. But, though people 
 ridiculed the vulgar widow and her absurd finery, 
 among the scoffers persons were not wanting who were 
 disposed to offer homage to the rich Mrs. Maclaurin. 
 Wealth, in all countries duly appreciated, is nowhere 
 paid such court to as in England ; and the possessor, 
 whatever may be his or her defects, is sure to receive 
 a courtesy which persons of the highest merit without 
 fortune have little chance of meeting. Even those 
 who laughed at the illiterate language and coarse 
 manners of Mrs. Maclaurin refused not to associate 
 with her ; such is the power wdiich wealth exercises 
 over the generality of people. One lady excused her- 
 self to her acquaintances for visiting the rich widow, 
 on the plea that she had a relation, an excellent young 
 man, without fortune, for whom she would be an 
 admirable wife ; another had a brother, or nephew ; 
 and even those who had no wife-seeking male con- 
 nexion to offer as an apology for making the ac- 
 quaintance of Mrs. Maclaurin urged a numerous
 
 STRATHERN. 233 
 
 family of daughters, ill-provided for, to one of whom 
 so rich and lonely a woman might be very likely to 
 take a fancy, and portion off. There was not a 
 ruined spendthrift bachelor or gay adventurer at 
 Brighton who did not build hopes and form schemes 
 on the rich widow, and flock around her, intent to 
 please. 
 
 Though elated beyond measure at a success that far 
 exceeded her most sanguine expectations, Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin was by no means disposed to barter her inde- 
 pendence for a husband, unless one presented himself 
 with an aristocratic title. A real lady, as she termed 
 it, she was determined to be, in order that she might 
 have a coronet on her carriage, a distinction which, 
 now that she had achieved a large fortune, appeared 
 to her to be the most enviable possible. Yes, she 
 would wed only a lord, and she smiled in contempt at 
 the vain efforts to conciliate her favour made by the 
 mercenary suitors who flocked around her. 
 
 The notoriety attached to her at Brighton followed 
 her to London, where, taking up her abode in a 
 fashionable hotel, she engaged a double box at the 
 Opera, sported two or three carriages conspicuous for 
 gaudiness and bad taste, and exhibited herself in cos- 
 tumes so remarkable for extravagance that she at- 
 tracted all eyes wherever she appeared. A French 
 fcmme de cliamhre was now added to her establish- 
 ment, and a da^me de compagnie engaged to appear 
 with her in public, and to amuse her leisure hours. 
 A lapdog, that indispensable appendage for women 
 who have no mental resources, and who are compelled 
 to bestow their tediousness on some victim or other,
 
 234 STRATHERN. 
 
 was purchased ; and a collar enriched with diamonds, 
 from which was suspended a heart set with the same 
 costly stones, adorned this canine favourite. Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin exhibited herself in the streets and parks every 
 day in her gaudy equipage, her dame de compagnie 
 seated opposite to her with the dog on her lap, 
 attracting the gaze of the crowd who mocked her, 
 while she believed herself the object of general ad- 
 miration, " the cynosure of curious eyes." 
 
 After havinof exhibited herself for two or three 
 years in the metropolis, and in various watering- 
 places, without having achieved any lordly conquest, 
 she determined on seeking another theatre on which 
 to enact the i^ole of a rich widow in search of a title, 
 and decided on going to Rome to pass the winter. 
 Having dismissed the seventh dame de compagnie^ who 
 had within three j^ears filled that office in her esta- 
 blishment, Mrs. Bernard was recommended to her as a 
 successor, and set out with her for li?^j. Long 
 before half the route was completed, this luckless 
 woman discovered with dismay that her new situation 
 was quite as insupportable as any of her former ones. 
 To an ignorance which rendered her incapable of 
 appreciating the attainments of others, Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin joined a violence of temper, and an impatience 
 under even the most puerile trials, which wholly pre- 
 cluded the possibility of peace to those who were 
 domesticated with her. The least difference of 
 opinion, although implied only by silence, was warmly 
 resented, and severely punished by bursts of angry 
 abuse, that would not have shamed the vituperative 
 powers of the most accomplished professors of that
 
 STRATHERN. 235 
 
 art in the famed purlieus of Billingsgate. A bed less 
 comfortable than the one to which she had been 
 accustomed to at home, or a repast less luxurious, 
 produced the worst effect on her temper ; and, unable, 
 from her ignorance of their language, to express her 
 rage to the astonished courier who attended her, or to 
 the innkeepers at whose houses she stopped, the un- 
 fortunate Mrs. Bernard was commanded to interpret 
 the abuse lavished on them by her imperious pro- 
 tectress, that ladj narrowly watching the countenances 
 of those lectured, in order to judge of the effect pro- 
 duced on them by her displeasure. If she found that 
 their looks did not denote the extent of dismay which 
 she calculated her anger ought to excite, she imme- 
 diately concluded that Mrs. Bernard had not faith- 
 fully interpreted her words, and she consequently 
 lavished on the defenceless head of that poor woman 
 every epithet of reproach which her imagination, 
 fertile in abuse, could invent, and her tongue, habitu- 
 ated to low language, give utterance. The indis- 
 positions, originating in repletion — and they were 
 neither few nor far between — which assailed Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin, increased the acerbity of this coarse-minded 
 and grossly selfish woman, who, having formed the 
 most erroneous notions of France and Italy, became 
 half frantic when she found how little the reality 
 corresponded with her preconceived ideas. " Why 
 didn't you tell me that there wasn't a decent inn on 
 the whole route T' would she exclaim, while looking 
 daggers at her unfortunate dame de compagnie. "If I 
 had known that there wasn't a good four-post bed 
 with chintz curtains to be found at every sleeping-
 
 236 STRATHERN. 
 
 place, and a rich soup, turbot with lobster sauce, or 
 cod fish with oysters, and fat roast beef or mutton, 
 Fd never have been such a fool as to come to France 
 or Italy. And then their abominable sour light 
 wines, for all the world like vinegar mixed with our 
 claret and water, is enough to injure the best health.'' 
 If Mrs. Bernard attempted to explain that, never pre- 
 viously having been in France or Italy, she was not 
 aware of the difference between the inns in these 
 countries and in England, she was instantly stopped 
 by a " Don't tell me such nonsense ! It's no excuse, 
 for it was your business to have found out all about 
 the inns, and to have warned me against exposing my 
 health by venturing into such places." 
 
 The fact was, Mrs. Maclaurin, like all imrTenues^ 
 unaccustomed in her youth even to common comfoi-ts, 
 had, since her accession to wealth, and, above all, 
 since the death of her husband had released her from 
 all constraint, become a regular goiirmande. Her 
 dinner was a weighty consideration with her, her 
 breakfast and luncheon scarcely less important, and 
 when disappointed in the degree of expected excel- 
 lence of any of these repasts, her temper became 
 insupportable, and Mrs. Bernard was the victim to 
 its ungovernable fury. Prosperity had, as is often 
 the case with persons naturally of an unamiable 
 nature, drawn forth all the bad qualities of Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin. Wholly bent on gratifying her own selfish 
 tastes, she was utterly regardless of the feelings of 
 others, and thought that those around her were only 
 created to minister to her comforts and pleasures. 
 
 Such was the woman to whom the sordid views of
 
 STRATHERN. 237 
 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu were directed ; and neither 
 the rumours of her low origin, vulgar habits, nor dis- 
 agreeable appearance, could deter him from seeking to 
 win the golden prize, for wealth, in his eyes, as in 
 those of many of his class, was the end and aim of all 
 his aspirations, and to acquire which he was willing to 
 take the odious incumbrance attached to it.
 
 238 STRATHERN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Oh ! blessed day, when first young virgin lips 
 Confess affection, vv^hile the blushing cheek 
 Wears Modesty's own hue, and downcast eyes 
 Would fain conceal the love that beams in them ; 
 And the small hand that, in the lover's grasp. 
 Trembles like timid bird when first 'tis caught 
 By some young truant, yet resigns itself 
 Unto its captor ! O, what dulcet words 
 Are those low murmured, and but half distinct 
 Replies, that yield assent to fond demands ! 
 
 We left Stratheru and the fair object of his affec- 
 tion in all the delight consequent on a perfect eclair- 
 cissement of the state of their mutual feelings. There 
 is, perhaps, no epoch in the lives of lovers so bright 
 and unalloyed as that in which, after all the doubts 
 and fears ever attendant on true passion are removed, 
 they have unburthened their hearts to each other, and 
 a sweet and tender confidence has replaced the haras- 
 sing anxiety previously entertained. Each, now sure 
 of the love of the other, beholds only happiness in the 
 present, and rapture in the future ; and the know- 
 ledge of mutual affection has not yet degenerated into 
 the positive certainty which so often gives a lover 
 more the air of a husband of a year old, than of one
 
 STRATHERN. 239 
 
 who counts the moments until he can lead the mis- 
 tress of his heart to the hymeneal altar. 
 
 Every object now assumed a different aspect to the 
 eyes of Strathern and the fair Louisa, beheld through 
 the bright medium of mutual love ; and happy 
 themselves, they were disposed to render all around 
 them so. The next day Strathern sought a private 
 interview with Mrs. Sydney, and revealed to her his 
 passion for her lovely daughter, and the permission 
 she had accorded him to address himself to her mo- 
 ther on the subject. The fond and anxious parent 
 listened with satisfaction to the statement, for among 
 all the suitors who had sought to win her daughter's 
 heart Strathern was the one she preferred. 
 
 When he had unbosomed himself to her, she left 
 him, and proceeded to Louisa's chamber, who, on 
 seeing her enter, and anticipating all that had oc- 
 curred, rose, and throwing herself into her mother's 
 arms, hid her blushing face on the maternal breast 
 that had so often pillowed her head in infancy, and 
 wept tears free from sorrow, tears that fell on her fair 
 cheeks like dewdrops on flowers, only making them 
 more attractive than before. Mrs. Sydney led her 
 daughter to the room where she had left Strathern, 
 and joining their hands and pronouncing a mother's 
 benediction on both, she was pressed in their arms, 
 and assured by Strathern that, instead of losing a 
 daughter by the proposed union, she would find that 
 she had gained a son, whose study it would henceforth 
 be to prove his gratitude for the treasure she had con- 
 sented to accord him. A total change seemed to have 
 been operated in Louisa Sydney. The coldness and
 
 240 STRATHERN. 
 
 reserve which had formerly thrown a shade over her 
 had now wdiolly disappeared, and, hke some rare and 
 precious exotic, whose petals, lon<^ denied the cheer- 
 ing influence of sunshine, had closed, and who now, 
 basking in its bright rays, opened its heart again to 
 the genial warmth, she assumed a new beauty, and 
 fascinated her lover more than ever, as he marked the 
 transformation effected in her by the affection he had 
 inspired in her youthful and guileless heart. Every 
 day, every hour, was now fraught with happiness to 
 the lovers. Constantly together, they parted at night 
 with a regret as if the separation was to be a long one, 
 and eagerly longed for the morning's meeting, to re- 
 sume those confidential conversations which endeared, 
 while revealing, the feelings of each to the other. 
 How many things had they to say which, though 
 they might appear puerile to indifferent persons, w ere 
 full of interest to them ! How often w^as their first 
 interview referred to, and how often was detailed the 
 impression each had formed relative to the other ! 
 
 " I thought you so proud, and imagined that you 
 felt certain of making conquests," would Louisa say, 
 while she suffered her little white hand to rest in that 
 of Strathern, " that I determined not to like you, 
 however agreeable you might be." 
 
 And the little white hand was pressed to his lips, 
 and he whispered, " You were so cold, so haughty ! 
 How could you be so cruel, so stern, Louisa ? You 
 must have seen from the first how much I admired — 
 loved you ; and yet not one look or smile would you 
 accord me for weeks." 
 
 And Mrs. Sydney would smile as she witnessed
 
 STRATHERN. 241 
 
 their happiness. But hers was a melancholy smile, 
 for she remembered when a similar felicity was her 
 own, when one as young and fond as Strathern wooed 
 and won her youthful affection, and with whom, 
 having enjoyed a few years of as much felicity as was 
 ever granted to any of Earth's daughters, she had the 
 misery to see snatched from her by ruthless death. 
 She thought how he^ who had so long filled an un- 
 timely grave, would, had life been spared him, have 
 shared her satisfaction at beholding his daughter 
 chosen by a man in every way so deserving of her 
 hand, and how their own happiness would have been 
 increased by witnessing the reflection of it in their 
 children's. How frequently are sad and tender recol- 
 lections, that sometimes slumber, but never die, 
 awakened by passing events ! " How would the de- 
 parted one have felt on such an occurrence V is a 
 question which the bereaved heart often asks of itself ; 
 and, although new trials and sorrows make one feel 
 thankful that the beloved dead have been spared them, 
 aught that gives pleasure reminds us that those who 
 would have shared it have fled from earth, and we 
 sigh while wondering how, after such bereavements, 
 we can still feel pleasure. Such were the thoughts 
 that passed through the mind of Mrs. Sydney, as she 
 listened to the betrothed lovers drawing fair plans for 
 the future, that future which Heaven in mercy has 
 veiled from our sight. And she, too, had counted 
 on futurity ; and one now sleeping in the tomb had 
 sketched as bright pictures of felicity as Strathern was 
 now drawing, and she had relied or^ their fulfilment 
 as implicitly as her daughter now did ; yet in a few 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
 L
 
 242 STRATHERN. 
 
 brief years how had those fair hopes been dashed to 
 the earth, and her hfe embittered by the loss of him 
 on whom all her happiness was based ! These sad 
 reflections Mrs. Sydney confined to her own breast, 
 unwilling to cloud even for a moment the sunshine in 
 which Louisa now basked, but ardently did she pray 
 to the Almighty that the destiny of her child might 
 prove a more fortunate one than her own, and that 
 she might be saved that heaviest of all afflictions to a 
 loving heart, the outliving the object of its most ten- 
 der affection. 
 
 Strathern pressed for an early period for the ratifi- 
 cation of his happiness ; but Louisa refused to abridge 
 the term originally named, being that of her reach- 
 ing her eighteenth year, which wanted six months 
 to its completion. At that period, Mrs. Sydney and 
 her daughter were to return to England, where the 
 marriage was to be solemnized, and to this ar- 
 rangement the impatient lover, however reluctant, 
 was compelled to yield an assent. And now, as an 
 accepted suitor, Strathern was privileged to be in con- 
 stant attendance on Mrs. and Miss Sydney, each day 
 rendering his society more agreeable to them, as his 
 noble and endearing qualities were revealed, and mak- 
 ing him more anxious to call the lovely Louisa his. 
 Together they visited the studios, and inspected the 
 progress of the works executing for Strathern House ; 
 and again and again they loitered among the interest- 
 ing ruins with which Rome abounds, or in the churches 
 so rich in objects of art, and so fraught with interest to 
 reflecting minds. 
 
 A true passion, however successful, always engen-
 
 STRATHERN. 243 
 
 ders a certain pensiveness in the hearts of those who 
 feel it ; but this sentiment is not without its own pe- 
 culiar charms, and both Strathern and Louisa Sydney 
 were fully conscious of its soothing influence. Often 
 would a silence, more eloquent than words, betray the 
 tender sympathy that linked their fond hearts together, 
 when a pressure of the hand, or a glance in which the 
 soul shone forth, supplied the place of speech. " Be- 
 fore I knew you, dearest," would Strathern say, " the 
 sight of these ruins awakened only reflections on the 
 mutability of human greatness, and the nothingness of 
 grandeur and power. But now they remind me of the 
 brevity of life ; and, for the first time, the remembrance 
 has become painful, because it forces on me the con- 
 sciousness of how frail is the tenure of happiness, how 
 uncertain its duration. When love, such as I feel for 
 you, takes possession of the heart, the desire for im- 
 mortality enters with it. To contemplate the possi- 
 bility of existence without you appals me, and yet to 
 how many dangers is life daily exposed ! I think of 
 this when I behold the wrecks of bygone ages around 
 us, and I can no longer philosophize on them as once I 
 could." 
 
 " Philosophy, dearest, offers but little consolation 
 for such U^iste reflections. Let us seek comfort where 
 only it can be found, in the blessed hope permitted us 
 that, though happiness on earth is fugitive, and at best 
 of brief duration, in another world we may together 
 enjoy that immortality which love vainly thirsts for 
 here. Who that really, truly loves, can help turning 
 his thoughts to that purer, brighter sphere, where no 
 dread intrudes, where no partings are V would Louisa 
 
 M 2
 
 244 STRATHERN. 
 
 reply ; and, as Strathern gazed on her fair and open 
 brow and mildly beaming eyes, he acknowledged that 
 Heaven manifests few greater favours towards erring 
 men, than when it vouchsafes them a creature like her 
 before him, to lead them to think of and prepare for 
 that world to which every day, every hour, brings 
 them nearer. He looked on Louisa as an ano:el sent 
 to conduct him through the thorny path of life to that 
 heaven to which she seemed to belong, and a sentiment 
 of reverence was mingled with the deep love he enter- 
 tained for her. 
 
 One evening, when the weather was unusually mild 
 for the season, Mrs. Sydney proposed that they should 
 visit the Coliseum by moonlight. This w^as a pleasure 
 that her daughter had long desired, but which the 
 careful mother denied, lest the nioht-air mio'ht visit 
 too roughly that cherished being on whose existence 
 her own might be truly said to depend. An Indian 
 shawl was folded around her graceful form, and Stra- 
 thern busied himself in arrano-ing it, so as to exclude 
 the air. Mrs. Sydney ""s eyes glistened as she noted 
 his watchful care of their mutual treasure, and Louisa 
 smiled while saying, " You will spoil me, indeed you 
 will, by making as great a fuss about me as dear mamma 
 does." 
 
 Nor was Strathern exclusively devoted to his be- 
 trothed. Her mother was tenderly cared for, and 
 Louisa never felt so convinced of his attachment and 
 so grateful for it as when these gratifying proofs of his 
 affection and respect for her parent were evinced by 
 him. 
 
 Never was there a more propitious night for seeing
 
 STRATHERN. 2-i5 
 
 the Coliseum than the one selected by Mrs. Sydney. 
 The moon rose with peculiar splendour in a sky blue 
 and clear as sapphire, and shed her silvery light over 
 portions of the noble edifice, leaving other parts in deep 
 shadow. In the arena, where once the gladiators min- 
 gled their blood with that of the ferocious animals to 
 whom they were opposed, and the vast building echoed 
 back the shouts of the brutal multitude, excited by the 
 sight of the fierce combat, now rose the simple altars 
 dedicated to the Deity, and the voice of the white- 
 robed priest ofiering up prayers alone was heard mid 
 the stillness of night. The scene was an impressive 
 one, and the feelings of the three individuals who now 
 slowly and silently paced the spot were in harmony 
 with it. But not long were they suffered to enjoy the 
 reflections such a view was so well calculated to awaken. 
 Loud laughter and the sounds of English voices pain- 
 fully broke in upon their meditations, and, before they 
 had time to retreat, and so avoid, as they wished to 
 do, a rencontre with the persons whose rude mirth de- 
 noted such an uncongeniality with their own feelings, 
 the followinof dialoo;ue became audible to their ears : — 
 
 " I wish 1 had brought my air-gun, that I might 
 have had a few shots at the owls, which I am sure 
 must abound in such an old rookery as this." 
 
 " Oh, heavens, Fitzwarren ! what an idea ! How 
 anti-poetic !" 
 
 " Why, what is one to do here, I should like to 
 know ? It would be all very well if there was any fun 
 going on — a sparring-match, a bull-fight, ay, or even 
 a cock-fight ; but to go stumbling over loose stones, 
 with nothing but those ruined walls to look on, and
 
 246 STRATHERN. 
 
 nothing but the nasal twang of the priest mumbling 
 his prayers over in a language one does not under- 
 stand, is to me a most unaccountable fancy." 
 
 " But every one makes a point to visit the Coliseum 
 by moonlight once, at least, before leaving Rome,"*"* 
 observed Lady Olivia. 
 
 " But what for V rejoined Lord Fitzwarren, " un- 
 less it be to catch a cold in such a damp place." 
 
 " Read what Lord Byron says of the Coliseum, in 
 the third Canto of ' Childe Harold's Pilo^rima2:e,"' " 
 said the lady, " and then you will understand why 
 people love to come here by moonlight." 
 
 " So I am to read a poem, a thing I never do 
 when I can help it, in order to know why a pack of 
 moon-struck fools come here of a damp night, to go 
 home coughing, wheezing, and sneezing with colds, 
 that may make them wish they had stayed within 
 doors. It was all very well for Byron to write verses 
 on such subjects — he was lame, poor devil, and conse- 
 quently could not amuse himself with field-sports, as 
 every manly fellow ought to do ; and, besides, he got, 
 I have heard, plenty of money for his scribbling ; 
 but for rational people to come here is another affair." 
 
 " Think of five thousand wild beasts having been 
 killed in the arena on the day when it was first opened," 
 said Lady Olivia, with an erudite air. 
 
 " And good sport it must have been, too," remarked 
 Lord Fitzwarren. " The Coliseum might tke?i have 
 been worth coming to see." 
 
 *' You of course know that this building was 
 erected by Flavins Vespasian, and is supposed to 
 stand where once were the fish-ponds of Nero."
 
 STRATHERN. 247 
 
 " By Jove, I know nothing about the matter !'' 
 
 "It is supposed to have derived its name from a 
 colossal statue of Nero in the character of Apollo, 
 which was placed here by Titus Vespasian,'' said Lady 
 Olivia, pompously. 
 
 *' Why hang me if little Livy does not bid fair to 
 be as great a historian as her namesake ; but how or 
 where she has picked up all her knowledge surprises 
 me;' 
 
 " Where you may acquire it in a few minutes, if 
 you wish," said Lady Sophia, spitefully — " in the 
 travels of Mariana Starke, which I saw her consulting 
 to-day, when it was settled that we were to come 
 here ; and she has given you the fruit of her study, 
 verbatim from the book." 
 
 " Better know something of the places one is to 
 see, than be, like you, totally ignorant of them," re- 
 plied Lady Olivia, her cheek becoming red with anger, 
 as she glanced fiercely at her sister. 
 
 " Yes, perhaps it is better," answered Lady Sophia ; 
 " but it is not quite fair to give the exact words of the 
 guide-book with an air of learning, as if you were a 
 res^nlar scholar." 
 
 And now the vicinity of Strathern and his party 
 became revealed to Lord Fitzwarren and the ladies 
 who accompanied him, and he instantly exclaimed : 
 " What ! you here, old boy ; and you, ladies? Well, 
 I'm glad to find I'm not the only greenhorn. Now 
 confess the truth, Strathern, is it not a regular bore 
 to come cold-catching here? And you, ladies, can 
 you discover anything now that might not be better 
 seen in broad daylight 2"
 
 248 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Fitz warren is so delightfully original !" lisped 
 Lady Olivia. 
 
 " And so very matter of fact !" added Lady Sophia, 
 sarcastically. 
 
 " I must confess I am quite of Lord Fitz warren's 
 opinion," observed Lady Wellerby, " for I always 
 find the bad effects of the damp night-air, and infi- 
 nitely prefer seeing ruins by day. Lord Wellerby 
 warned me of the consequences of coming here ; he is 
 always so careful, so prewyant for those dear to him ! 
 Ah, Mrs. Sydney! there is nothing like a husband 
 for takins: care of one — is there T' 
 
 Lady Wellerby had discovered that every allusion 
 to affectionate husbands occasioned a pang to Mrs. 
 Sydney, which was betrayed by her cheek becoming 
 paler than usual, and by an involuntary sigh ; and, 
 since this discovery, she omitted no opportunity of 
 referring to her own happiness in the possession of 
 a tender partner, a blessing of which that lady was 
 deprived. 
 
 " Yes, the old governor is devilish careful, I must 
 confess," said Lord Fitzwarren, " and for a good 
 reason, too. Don't you remember he said that if you 
 brought on a return of your rheumatism, by exposing 
 yourself to the night-air, he would have a doctor and 
 ^ long apothecary's bill to pay ? Yes, the old governor 
 knows what he is about, so don't fancy, my lady, that 
 it is anything but economy that makes him trouble 
 himself about your health." 
 
 Lady Wellerby bit her lip, and looked annoyed, 
 and her future son-in-law laughed aloud at her evi- 
 dent discomfiture and his own sagacity. Mrs. Sydney
 
 STRATHERN. 249 
 
 and her daughter could scarcely forbear smiling, as 
 they noticed the disdainful air assumed by Lady 
 Olivia towards the latter, and her efforts to draw off 
 Lord Fitzwarren's attention from his former flame, 
 while he, as natural as his bride elect was affected, 
 stared at Louisa with undisguised admiration, and 
 remarked aloud that he thought Miss Sydney's lace 
 looked by moonlight like the beautiful one of the statue 
 he had seen at Gibson's the day before. 
 
 " Hang me, if she doesn't grow handsomer every 
 day !" said he naively to Lady Olivia, as they walked 
 away from the Coliseum. " That fellow, Strathern, 
 is a deuced lucky dog to have won the heart of such a 
 lovely girl:" and a deep-drawn sigh attested that 
 Lord Fitzwarren felt what he uttered. 
 
 How did Lady Olivia long to express her difference 
 of opinion with her future caro sposo on this point, for 
 the undisguised admiration he evinced for Louisa 
 Sydney irritated and piqued her vanity ! but her 
 prudence prevailed over her vanity, and she consoled 
 herself for not openly dissenting from his sentiments 
 on this occasion, with the determination that, when 
 once the indissoluble knot of wedlock was tied, she 
 would no longer listen in silence to the praises of 
 other women from her lord, and, above all, to those 
 of a girl whom she detested. Lady Sophia, who well 
 knew her sister's character, had observed the morti- 
 fication inflicted on her by Lord Fitzwarren's adniir 
 ration of Miss Sydney, and, desirous of repaying some 
 of the many slights and annoyances that Lady Olivia 
 had made her feel ever since he had become her 
 affianced husband, she now joined most warmly in his 
 
 M 5
 
 250 STRATHERN. 
 
 commendations of Louisa, and assented to his re- 
 marks on the good fortune of Strathern in having 
 won such a bride. 
 
 " Yes, hfe will be the envy of all his acquaintance,"" 
 said she, "for who can be compared to Miss Sydney ? 
 Every woman looks plain near her, and so I thought 
 when I saw her a few minutes ao:o with the moonlio^ht 
 falling 0^1 her beautiful face ;" and the speaker glanced 
 spitefully at her sister. 
 
 " Little Sophia is right," observed Lord Fitz- 
 warren ; " she does eclipse every other girl, and 
 Strathern is a deuced lucky dog." 
 
 Lady Wellerby looked alarmed, and then made a 
 sign to Lady Sophia to discontinue the subject ; but 
 that young person, gratified by witnessing the pain 
 she occasioned to her sister, was by no means dis- 
 posed to abridge her own satisfaction ; and so, affect- 
 ing not to see her surly mother's telegraphic signals, 
 she continued — " No one has refused so many suitors 
 as Miss Sydney. If rumour speaks truth, she has 
 rejected every bachelor in Rome." 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren felt his face grow red, and Lady 
 Olivia looked daggers at her malicious sister. 
 
 " Do you believe that she refused so many ?" asked 
 Lady Sophia. 
 
 " I know nothing about the matter," answered 
 Lord Fitzwarren ; "I only know that she did not 
 refuse me^ and for the best of all reasons — that I did 
 not ask her." 
 
 Lady Olivia's brow cleared at this avowal, and 
 she smiled graciously on her future husband. 
 
 " I hope, Sophia, you are now convinced that Lord
 
 STRATHERN. 251 
 
 Fitzwarren was not the rejected suitor of Miss Syd- 
 ney f" said she, disdainfully. 
 
 Lady Sophia shook her head incredulously. 
 
 "I never popped the question to any girl except to 
 you, Livy — and, hang me, if I can tell why I did so 
 then !" 
 
 " A very flattering speech, I must say," observed 
 Lady Sophia, while her sister bit her lip, and turned 
 red with anger. 
 
 " Don't be vexed, Livy — what does it matter now I 
 I have proposed — all is arranged, and I dare say we 
 shall get on very well together, for you won't attempt 
 to interfere with ray mode of going on, which all the 
 women in the world would not make me change, and 
 I am in the main a devilish good-natured fellow when 
 I have every thing my own way, which I am always 
 determined to have ; so we shall be as happy as our 
 neighbours, I dare say," and he shook Lady Olivia's 
 hand kindly. 
 
 " I trust that no daughter of mine will ever shame 
 the example and instruction which I have afforded 
 her," said Lady Wellerby, drawing up her head 
 proudly. " Lord Wellerby, after a union of many 
 years, renders me the justice to affirm that to me he 
 owes all his happiness." 
 
 " He does, does he ? Well, the old governor must 
 know best ; but, hang me, if I think that the happi- 
 ness of any man can depend wholly on a woman ! It's 
 a devilish good thing, I grant, to have a sprightly, 
 good-tempered wife, who is always glad to see one's 
 friends, and to make one's house agreeable ; but, if a 
 wife happens to be cross-grained and ill-natured, as
 
 252 STRATHERN. 
 
 some women turn out, why, one can eat a good dinner, 
 drink prime wine, and keep up a jolly night with one's 
 friends in spite of her ; and, if she shows temper, 
 keep never minding her, and she'll tire of it. If a 
 wife was a perfect angel, she could not make the hap- 
 piness of such fellows as me. I must have capital 
 hunters, clever hacks, fine hounds, good huntsman 
 and whipper-in, lively fellows to ride with me ; a 
 first-rate cook, choice old wines, large manors, with 
 famous preserves, the best guns, well-bred and well- 
 broke-in dogs, and steady keepers, to make me happy. 
 The best wife in the world without all these would not 
 render me so ; whereas, an indifferent one with them 
 could not make me unhappy ; and, if you knew half, 
 ay, or three parts, of the fellows I live with in Eng- 
 land as well as I do, you'd find that they are of the 
 same way of thinking, though they would not be so 
 open and honest in confessing it as I have been. No, 
 they make women believe, before marriage, that all 
 their felicity depends on them, and so perhaps they 
 themselves fancy, when they first take a liking. But, 
 when the sporting and hunting seasons set in, they 
 become of a different way of thinking, and the poor 
 woman who took for gospel all her husband swore, 
 finds herself left alone at home the whole day, to 
 amuse herself as best she can, and in the evening 
 must be content to see her husband and his friends 
 come late to her tea-table, and hear them talk over 
 the sports of the day, half asleep, and yawning 
 from the effects of the violent exercise they have 
 taken." 
 
 *•' What a picture of the life of a sportsman's wife !'
 
 STRATHERN. 258 
 
 said Lady Sophia, turning up her eyes ; " who would 
 not compassionate such a fate !" 
 
 " Some may pretend to despise it," observed Lady 
 OHvia, " who would, in their hearts, be but too glad 
 to have a chance of being the wife of a sportsman !" 
 and she looked angrily at her sister. 
 
 " Don't disdain sportsmen, Sophy, for I am deter- 
 mined to find you a husband among my friends one 
 of these days. So study horses, cut out better ones 
 in paper, learn to ride boldly, and leave the rest 
 to me." 
 
 " Pray do not trouble yourself on the subject," 
 answered Lady Sophia. " I have no intention of 
 wedding a Nirarod., I assure you, for I am of opinion 
 that it is better to lead apes in a place not to be 
 named to ears polite, than to be tied to a fool on 
 earth." 
 
 " Then I am to conclude that you consider sports- 
 men fools," observed Lord Fitzwarren, angrily. 
 
 " Sophia is only jesting," said Lady Wellerby, 
 fearful that her daughter would seriously offend her 
 future son-in-law, and bestowing a stern frown on 
 that young lady, who, previously to her seeking her 
 pillow that night, received a severe lesson from her 
 mother on the injudicious line of conduct she had 
 adopted towards her sister and future brother-in-law. 
 
 " He really is so hete^ that there is no standing his 
 folly," observed Lady Sophia. 
 
 " But, as you are not to pass your life with him, 
 why need you mind his eccentricity," rejoined the 
 mamma. " You ought to be too glad to see your 
 sister married off our hands, to find fault with him
 
 254 STRATHERN. 
 
 who takes her. People will say you are jealous of 
 her good fortune if they see you showing your temper 
 in this manner." 
 
 " Me jealous ! and of what, pray, have I to be 
 jealous ? — that she marries a blockhead, who has not 
 two ideas in his head, and who is incapable of thinking 
 or feeling V 
 
 " Nevertheless, you know very well, Sophia, and 
 so do I also, that you would have been very glad had 
 Lord Fitzwarren proposed for you instead of your 
 sister, and that you would gladly have accepted 
 him." 
 
 " No, indeed I would not !" 
 
 " Then, Sophia, you are a greater fool than I took 
 you to be ; and the pains you bestowed in endea- 
 vouring to please Lord Fitzwarren before he proposed 
 for Olivia is very unaccountable ;" and so saying, 
 Lady Wellerby quitted her daughter's room, leaving 
 that young lady highly incensed at her mother's 
 expostulation. 
 
 " Olivia is in high favour at present," thought 
 Lady Sophia, " because she has caught that imbecile 
 Fitzwarren. Had I secured him, all the adulation 
 she now receives would have been mine, but a day 
 may come when it will be my turn to be complimented 
 and flattered — would that it were arrived !" 
 
 While thus soliloquizing. Lady Olivia entered with 
 a nonchalant air, and having seated herself before a 
 mirror, after a pause of some minutes, said, " I wish 
 we were at Paris or in London, for to be a bride elect 
 at Rome is little worth being pleased at. No Storr 
 and Mortimer's — no Howell and James to send
 
 STRATHERN. 255 
 
 forth every day tlieir delightful green baize bags, filled 
 with ecrins, whose dazzling contents flash so brightly 
 as to make one forget the absence of sunshine in our 
 nebulous metropolis. Oh ! the pleasure of beholding 
 morocco and velvet cases opened one after another for 
 one's approbation — the obsequious clerk holding up 
 each to catch the light, in order that their lustre may 
 be seen to greater advantage ! Now he descants on 
 the delicate purity of oriental pearls, and insinuates 
 their appropriateness for certain interesting occasions, 
 remindinof the bride and bridegroom elect that the 
 Duke of A., Marquis of B., Earl of C, and 
 Viscount D., presented their fiancees with parures of 
 these chaste and becoming ornaments. When the 
 pearls have been sufficiently admired, and probably 
 purchased, an ecrin with sapphires set in diamonds is 
 opened. How learnedly does the wily exhibitor 
 dwell on the deep, rich blue, and velvety appearance 
 of these precious stones ! — ^the unusual size, the 
 freedom from light tints towards the edge, proving 
 the depth of the gem, the brilliant whiteness of the 
 diamonds set around each stone, and the exquisite 
 taste of the mounting. If the bride elect is fair, she 
 is told that sapphires can only be worn by ladies of 
 the fairest complexion ; but, if she happens to be a 
 brunette, then their admirable efiect on ladies with 
 dark hair is cleverly commented on. Next come 
 emeralds — how brightly green and refreshing to the 
 eye, adding, by the contrast, additional lustre to the 
 diamonds that encircle them ! Who could resist 
 emeralds set in diamonds? Not I, for one. The 
 clerk takes advantage of my apparent admiration for
 
 256 STRATHERN. 
 
 this charming parure. He tells how a Russian 
 imperial duke examined, praised, did all but buy it, 
 and how a French altesse royal regretted that the 
 recent acquisition of a vast terre^ which took all his 
 spare thousands, prevented his purchasing it. The 
 Duke of Auburnland, he is quite sure, will buy it for 
 his duchess as soon as he comes to town. What 
 lover could withstand a parure coveted by royal and 
 noble dukes ? The bowing clerk is asked the price. 
 Answers, ' Very cheap — only ten thousand pounds.' 
 The bridegroom expectant starts a little ; evidently he 
 does not consider it so very great a bargain, but he is 
 reminded that such jewels become heirlooms in noble 
 families, descending from father to son. The fiancee 
 blushes, or, what does as well, affects to do so, and 
 holds down her head, and the lover desires the eme- 
 ralds to be put aside for his final decision. Another 
 ecrin is drawn forth and opened, and rubies, rich, red, 
 and glowing, flash among the brilliants. No, there is 
 nothing — positively nothing that can equal rubies, 
 and so every one in the room exclaims. These are 
 of the true tint, neither too dark nor too light. 
 What depth of colour, yet the bright scarlet how 
 vivid ! 
 
 " ' Yes, they are unique, my lady. Your ladyship 
 is perfectly correct in pronouncing them to be perfect, 
 and so becoming too. Our house has been many 
 years collecting the stones. We thought we should 
 never be able to match them, but we triumphed 
 over every difficulty, and do not now regret the 
 trouble, although we cannot hope ever to be fully 
 repaid. "*
 
 STRATHERN. 257 
 
 " ' What is the price V asks the future bridegroom, 
 with rather a husband of ten years sort of a face. 
 
 " ' Your lordship will be surprised when I tell you 
 our demand is so very moderate. Only eighteen 
 thousand pounds.' 
 
 " ! that I were in London to enjoy these bridal 
 dougeursT exclaimed Lady Olivia, breaking off; "then 
 would I feel all the advantages of making a splendid 
 marriage ; but here in Rome — with nothing in the 
 shape of ornaments to buy but cameos which are 
 passes de mode^ mosaics, fit only for the vulgar, and 
 Roman pearls that impose on no one but the foolish 
 purchasers — all the pleasure and solid advantages of 
 a bride elect are lost. Heigh ho !" 
 
 " I see you understand Fitzwarren's character 
 sufficiently well, Olivia, to be aware that, when you 
 return to Paris and London, a wife of three months, 
 he will be little disposed to indulge in the extrava- 
 gant follies committed by men for their chosen wives, 
 avant^ pendant^ but not three months apres marriage.'"* 
 
 " What will then avail whether or not he is dis- 
 posed to be generous to me ? As his wife, I shall have 
 unlimited credit, and I mean to take full advantage of 
 this privilege, I can tell you. He may storm when 
 the bills are presented, but he must pay, and the 
 thino's I covet are worth standino- a little contest for." 
 
 " When a woman marries such an animal as Fitz- 
 warren, she ought to deny herself nothing." 
 
 " Yet this same animal, Sophia, you tried every 
 effort to entrap, and you are now dying of envy 
 because I have won him. Do you think that I did 
 not see through your petty malice at the Coliseum
 
 258 STRATHERN. 
 
 this evening ! — your extravagant eulogies of Louisa 
 Sydney and your sneers at Fitzwarren V 
 
 "So no other woman is to be praised in your 
 presence, forsooth, without your taking it as an affront ! 
 And as to your stupid lover, who can resist laughing 
 at such a booby V 
 
 "I do not wish to quarrel with you, Sophia, and 
 can make allowance for the disappointment you feel, 
 so I will not continue a conversation so little amusing. 
 BoTi soir ,-" and Lady Olivia retired, humming a song.
 
 STRATHERN. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " And wilt thou stoop to such base means for gold? 
 Forego thine own esteem, the world's respect ? — 
 Think'st thou 'twill silence scorn, or cover shame, 
 Or give thee happiness ? Ah ! no, weak man." 
 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu, having taken up his 
 abode in the hotel where Mrs. Maclaurin lodged, set 
 about carrying his plans for forming an acquaintance 
 w^ith that lady into execution. Various schemes sug- 
 gested themselves to his fertile brain ; but, previously 
 to adopting any, he went to reconnoitre le terrain, that 
 is, to study the locale of the landing-place on which 
 the rich widow'*s spacious suite of apartments, as well 
 as his own small one, opened. While thus occupied, 
 a servant ascended the stairs to answer the bell of 
 Mrs. Maclaurin, and Lord Alexander had barely time 
 to enter the ante-chamber of his own room without 
 being seen, when the domestic having opened the door 
 of his mistress's, her lapdog, unnoticed by him, ran 
 into the passage. In a moment the thought of seizing 
 the animal flashed throucjh the mind of Lord Alex- 
 ander, who was standing with his door half-ajar. He 
 opened it still wider, and the dog, of its own accord,
 
 260 STRATHERN. 
 
 ran into his apartment. He quickly closed the door, 
 took up the little creature, and caressed it, glancing at 
 its diamond-set collar, so characteristic of the vulgarity 
 and ostentation of its mistress, but so demonstrative 
 also of her wealth ; and the little dog remained per- 
 fectly quiescent in his arms. He, after a few minutes, 
 locked it up in his bed-chamber, the most remote 
 room from those occupied by Mrs. Maclaurin, and 
 then he stationed himself inside the door of the ante- 
 room, leaving it ajar, that he might hear what was 
 going on outside. Soon the cry of " Bijou !" " Bijou !" 
 was echoed around. The bell of Mrs. Maclaurin's 
 salon was loudly rang, servants were heard running in 
 every direction, and the voice of Mrs. Bernard was 
 audible, humbly entreating the servants to search 
 everywhere for the dog, while that of Mrs. Maclaurin, 
 loud, coarse, and menacing, half-drowned it as she 
 uttered invectives on the carelessness and stupidity of 
 each of her suite, but, above all, on Mrs. Bernard, for 
 havino^ allowed the doo^ to 2:0 out of her sight. 
 
 " Ah! quel malheur r exclaimed the femme de cJiam- 
 bre^ who now joined the group. " De moost bootifool 
 leetle dogue in de vorld. Vat peety madame not leave 
 him vid me ! I so lofe him I vould not never let him 
 leave my eyes. And de superbe collier vid all de dia- 
 mants. Oh ! Mon Dieu ! Some vone steal him for de 
 collier^ and kill him. Vat a peety Madame Bernard 
 did not take care of de dear bootifool aneemal!" 
 
 " She is right ; 'twas all your fault," said Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin. " Have I not often told you not to let the 
 precious darling leave the room without a servant to 
 guard it V
 
 STRATHERN. 261 
 
 " I was engaged on the letter you commanded me 
 to write, madam."' 
 
 " A fine excuse, truly ! Could you not hold the 
 dog on your knee while you were writing, or, at all 
 events, keep your eye on him ? What's the good of 
 a companion, or a ' dam de company,"* as the French 
 call it, except to ring the bell or look after one's lap- 
 dog T 
 
 " J.^/ madame^ que je suisfdcheel If madame do 
 as I say, she never lose de dear leetle dogue." 
 
 " What's the use of telling me so now?" said 
 Mrs. Maclaurin ; " you only do it to vex me. Don't 
 stand staring there, all of you, like stuck pigs, but 
 run in every direction until you find my darling 
 Bijou. I'd rather you were all in the bottom of the 
 sea than have my dog lost — and the collar too, that 
 cost me such a sum ! No one was ever so bothered 
 with servants as I am : always plaguing and torment- 
 ing me with your stupidity and negligence." 
 
 " Had we not better offer a reward to any one who 
 will bring the dog to you, madam f asked Mrs. Ber- 
 nard, in the meekest tone of voice possible. 
 
 " Offer a reward, indeed ! Why, you must be a 
 downright fool. What but a very large sum would 
 tempt any rogue who might find it to resign the valu- 
 able collar, which, if broken up, would sell for a con- 
 siderable price f 
 
 " A hint that shall not be lost if ever this same 
 collar falls in laij way," thought the laquais de place^ 
 who had acquired enough English to comprehend 
 Mrs. Maclaurin's unwise observation, and whose 
 cupidity had been excited by it.
 
 262 STRATHERN. 
 
 All the servants had, in obedience to the com- 
 mands of their imperious mistress, gone in different 
 directions to search for Bijou, and Mrs. Bernard alone 
 remained to bear the brunt of that vulgar woman's 
 answer. Loud and coarse were the invectives which 
 she uttered, while the affrighted dame de compagnie 
 stood, pale and trembling, before her, not daring to 
 answer, or endeavour to stem the torrent of reproach 
 which, now the floodgate of Mrs. Maclaurin's wrath 
 was opened, poured on the defenceless head — " In- 
 deed, madam...'' 
 
 " Don't tell me any of your nonsense ; it's of no use, 
 I can assure you, for I am not to be wheedled out of 
 my just anger. It was your place to keep a strict 
 watch on my dog, and you pretend, forsooth, that you 
 could not do this while writing a letter ; as if with 
 two eyes you could not see to write with one, and 
 watch the dog with the other !" 
 
 This ignorance of the law of optics would have 
 forced a smile from any one less timid and nervous 
 than Mrs. Bernard, but it only made her feel how- 
 unavailing and hopeless any attempt to reason with 
 such a woman as Mrs. Maclaurin must prove. Encou- 
 raged by her silence, that lady resumed her lecture. 
 
 " You are," exclaimed she, " the most provo- 
 kingly stupid woman I ever had the misfortune to 
 meet with, and are the plague and torment of my 
 life. Send Justing (her mode of pronouncing Jus- 
 tine), for she has some sense, and may be able to tell 
 me what had best be done." 
 
 " Yes, I'm a miserable woman, and that's the truth 
 of it," said Mrs. Maclaurin, when her luckless dame
 
 STRATHERN. 263 
 
 de compagnie had left the room. " Everything goes 
 wrong, and everybody seems to have joined to vex and 
 bother me. I can get nothing that I like to eat or 
 drink. A pack of nasty French messes are served to 
 me every day that it makes me sick to look at, and a 
 weak, nasty, sour stuff, with out-of-the-way names, 
 which they pass off for wine, and for which I am 
 charged extravagant prices, makes me positively ill. 
 Then I am taken to look at churches so like each 
 other that, except St. Peter's, I don't know one from 
 another, and old ruins, about which the lacky, as they 
 call him, prates by the hour without my understanding- 
 one word he says. I don't know how to amuse myself 
 or pass away the time, although I go to see everything 
 that is to be seen, and have four regular meals a-day. 
 If it wasn't for the time I spend in eating, dressing, 
 and scolding, I am sure I'd die of annuy^ as Justing 
 says. I wish I had not left England, for that's the 
 only place, after all, for people like me who have plenty 
 of money. I'd go back at once, only I'm afraid people 
 would laugh at me, for every one pretends to like Rome, 
 tho' I'm sure they don't in their hearts. Heigh ho ! 
 how tired I am of foreign parts ; and now to lose Bijou, 
 and the collar that cost me such a mint of money ! I'd 
 rather twice have lost the dog than the collar, which I 
 bought just to show the proud duchesses and countesses 
 in London that, while they had only gold or silver 
 collars for their dogs, I could have a diamond one for 
 mine. Yes, I quite cut them out, that I did, and I 
 saw in the park how spiteful they used to look, though 
 they pretended to laugh. Who'd ever believe, at
 
 264 STRATHERN. 
 
 Ballymacrash, that Molly Malowny had a lapdog with 
 a diamond collar !" 
 
 Not a word of this soliloquy was lost on Lord Alex- 
 ander Beaulieu, who, having left his door ajar, and 
 ensconced himself behind it, could distinctly hear it, 
 owins: to the door of Mrs. Maclaurin''s room not beins: 
 closed. He could have smiled at this expose of her 
 innate vulgarity, had he not been more intent on the 
 advantage it gave him as furnishing him a perfect 
 insight to her character — an insight of which he fully 
 determined to take advantage with as little delay as 
 possible. Justine now attended her mistress, followed 
 by the melancholy Mrs. Bernard, whose countenance 
 denoted her dread of anticipated insult. " What is to 
 be done, Justing f"* demanded Mrs. Maclaurin. "I 
 might put up with the loss of Bijou, for, after all, I 
 never cared much about dogs, and only had this one 
 because I saw so many grand ladies in London had 
 them J but to lose the diamond collar is what vexes me."" 
 
 " Oui^ madame^je consols ; dat is, I understand you 
 do like de diamonds better dan de dogue. Vat you 
 best do is to write one affiche — vat you call advertise- 
 ment — and offer de revard to whoever brings you de 
 collar vide de dogue." 
 
 " Or the collar without the dog," interrupted Mrs. 
 Maclaurin. 
 
 " Comme tous Toudrez^ madame, that is, as you veel ; 
 but peoples veel laugh so vera moche ven dey see you 
 lofe de collar more dan de dog ; I do not advise you do 
 dat." 
 
 " Write an advertisement immediately, Mrs. Ber-
 
 STRATHERN. 265 
 
 Hard, and write just what I say. ' A lady of fashion 
 having lost her lapdog, which had on a diamond collar, 
 she will give a reward of twenty pounds to any one 
 who will bring back the collar and the dog.' And now 
 put ' The diamonds are not real ones, though they look 
 as if they were.' That's a good hit, isn't it, Justing?" 
 
 " Madame is so vera clever — vera clever, indeed." 
 
 " Yes, Justing ; I'm no fool, am I ?" 
 
 " Foole, madame ! you are de most clever lady I 
 never seed.". 
 
 " Have you written the advertisement ?" 
 
 " Yes, madam, here it is." 
 
 "Ring the bell, and send the lackey with it to the 
 newspapers, and let it also be cried by the bellman. 
 Write another notice for the bellman, and begin, 
 ' Stolen or strayed, lost or mislaid, a diamond collar, 
 with a dog. Nota bene. — The diamonds are all false.' " 
 
 " I believe, madam, that there are no town-criers at 
 Rome." 
 
 " And if dere vas, it vould not do to let de English 
 milors and miladies tink your bootifool collar, vat is so 
 moche admired by everybody, vas false ; dat would 
 make dem all tink you not so riche nor so grande 
 darned 
 
 " You are right. Justing, quite right. Why do 
 you never give me such good advice as Justing does, 
 Mrs. Bernard, I should like to know ?" 
 
 " I am fearful of giving you oftence, madam." 
 
 " Fearful of fiddlesticks ! Don't tell me a pack of 
 stuff and nonsense, when you know in your heart you 
 drive me half out of my senses every day of my life 
 by your stupidity and folly." 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 STRATHERN. 
 
 " Pauwe ch^re dame; nobody ought to vex madame, 
 it make her look very bad in de face, spoil her beauty, 
 and prevent all de pretty caps, and toques^ and turbans 
 from becoming her. Madame is charmante ven she is 
 not vex." 
 
 " Do you hear that, Mrs. Bernard ? Justing is 
 quite right ; you make a perfect fright of me by putting 
 me in such passions.'"* 
 
 " I assure you, madam, that it gives me the greatest 
 pain to disoblige you ; and, when I am so unfortunate 
 as to do so, it is quite unintentional." 
 
 " So you always say ; but what's the difference to 
 me, when I am put in a passion, whether you intended 
 it or not, I should like to know f 
 
 " Madame has de raison^ and say vat is right ;" and 
 the artful Justine looked reproachfully at poor Mrs. 
 Bernard. 
 
 " If every one about me would think only of pleasing 
 me, and guessing what I like to be said and done, I 
 should never get into a passion," observed Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin, " should I, Justing f 
 
 " No, madame, you vould not ; and den you vould 
 be so handsome, so vera handsome !" 
 
 " You may take that brown velvet dress of mine. 
 Justing, that w^as made at Paris ; I shan't wear it 
 any more." 
 
 " Merely madame. Madame is so goot, so aimahle 
 to \\Qx paume Justine !" 
 
 " If all those about me," and Mrs. Maclaurin 
 looked sternly at Mrs. Bernard, " were as attentive 
 and clever as you are. Justing, I should always be in 
 good humour. It would be so easy for people to
 
 STRATHERN. 267 
 
 guess what I like. You always do, I must say, 
 Justing." 
 
 " Madame est trop honne, and so I alvays tell all de 
 oder femmes de chambre^ in all de auherges vat ve come 
 to. Miladi is de best in all de vorld, I say. So 
 elegante, so handsome, so generous, and so comme il 
 faut ; and den all de oder femmes de chamhre sont si 
 jalouses ; dat is, be so jealous — ven de see de belles 
 robes, de elegante dresses Madame gives to me ; and, 
 I say, your mattresses do not give you such fine 
 clothes, your mattresses not so riche as mine is, and 
 dat vex dem ever so." 
 
 " You may take the blue velvet bonnet with the 
 black lace. Justing. I don't think it becomes me so 
 well as my other bonnets do." 
 
 " Merci, madame. Comme madame est bonne /" 
 " I wish, Mrs. Bernard, you would follow Justing's 
 example, and dress as well as she does. She is 
 always perfectly well dressed, while you are absolutely 
 shabby. The dam di company of a lady like me 
 should always be elegantly dressed to do credit to 
 me." 
 
 " I wish I could afford to make a better appearance, 
 madam, but my means are limited. I trust, however, 
 that I am always scrupulously clean." 
 
 " You deserve no credit for that, for you well know 
 I would not keep you if you were not." 
 
 Justine could not conceal her triumph at being a 
 witness to the contemptuous treatment the innocent 
 and unoffending object of her dislike experienced at 
 the hands of her mistress, and glanced with an ironical 
 smile at Mrs. Bernard. 
 
 n2
 
 268 STRATHERN. 
 
 " If you are so poor as not to be able to buy your- 
 self a bonnet and cloak fit to be seen in when you go 
 out with me, I will advance you a quarter's wages ; 
 thouoh it is a thinir I do not much like doino^, for it 
 makes people think they are to be kept for a long 
 time, and I have lost money when I suddenly dis- 
 charfjed servants to whom I had advanced cash." 
 
 " If you will permit me, madam, I would rather 
 not receive money in advance, for I really cannot 
 afibrd purchasing a new bonnet and cloak, after having 
 so recently bought both at Paris by your recommend- 
 ation." 
 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu had now heard enough 
 to be perfectly au fait of the character of the woman 
 to whose riches he aspired, and to be able to judge of 
 her dame de compagnie and femme de chamhre. The 
 first, he clearly perceived, possessed not the least in- 
 fluence with Mrs. Maclaurin, consequently it would be 
 wholly unnecessary for him to conciliate her ; but the 
 second he saw could perfectly manage her, and he 
 determined to secure the good-will of the artful Justine. 
 He now enveloped himself in a large cloak, beneath 
 which he placed Bijou, having first taken the pre- 
 caution of binding a silk handkerchief over her jaws 
 to prevent her barking. He sallied forth into one of 
 the least frequented streets, and, having remained long 
 enough absent to give a colour to his scheme-, he re- 
 turned to the hotel, and sent his card by his servant, 
 with a request for an audience with that lady. 
 
 " What a real lord V exclaimed Mrs. Maclaurin. 
 " Read the name over again, Mrs. Bernard ! Lord ! 
 liow well it sounds ~ quite like Alexander the Great,
 
 STRATHERN. 269 
 
 that Curnel Fairfax used to be reading aloud about. 
 Tell the servant his lordship's company will give me 
 great pleasure. Ring the bell, quick, Mrs. Bernard — 
 how you crawl ! no, run and send Justing to my 
 dressing-room. Well, now, how provoking that I 
 should not have put on to-day my new crimson velvet 
 gown with the lace I paid such a price for at Paris, 
 instead of this purple velvet one, which I have worn 
 two or three times. Oh, dear ! how vexatious !'" 
 
 Mrs. Maclaurin ran off to her dressing-room, ex- 
 claiming, the moment she entered it, half breathless 
 with emotion, " Give me. Justing, my diamond ear- 
 rings and the small feron — what do ye call it V 
 
 " Feroniere, madame." 
 
 " Yes, I always forget the name. There, fasten 
 it ! Now put in my earrings, and give me my lace 
 cap with the crimson dalys (dahlias) and point-lace 
 collar. Oh, I forgot ! give me my diamond chain 
 and bracelets, for before a lord I should like to appear 
 what you call co7n ilfoe. There, that will do, Justing. 
 How do I look r 
 
 " Cliarmante^ madame — bootifool !" 
 
 Mrs. Maclaurin hurried back to her saloon, where 
 she found Lord Alexander Beaulieu, who bowed re- 
 spectfully as she entered. 
 
 " How do you do, my lord,"" said she ; " I hope 
 your lordship is quite well. Won't your lordship take 
 a seat V 
 
 " I have taken the liberty of calling on you, madam, 
 to " 
 
 " Not the laste liberty in life ; sure, ain't I glad, 
 and proud too, to have a visit from your lordship f
 
 270 STRATHERN. 
 
 " I should not have ventured to present myself, 
 madam, had I not fortunately the power to restore 
 you something precious which you have lately lost.'^ 
 
 "The diamond collar — the diamond collar of my 
 dog ! Ah ! then have you found it — has your lord- 
 ship really found it V 
 
 " Yes, madam, and the dog too." 
 
 " Oh, for the matter of that, dogs are not scarce ! 
 there's always plenty of them to be had ; but 
 diamonds are dear things, and, as your lordship truly 
 said, something precious ; and, though I have plenty 
 of diamonds, and money enough to buy as many as I 
 please, still it vexed me to have lost what cost me so 
 much. I paid five hundred pounds ready money — I 
 always make it a rule to pay ready money for every 
 thing I buy — for that same collar ; and I believe 
 there is not a lady in England that ever paid half 
 that sum for a dog-collar.'' 
 
 " I am happy, madam, to have the power of re- 
 storing it to you uninjured." 
 
 " And how, my lord, did your lordship find it V* 
 
 " Taking a walk in the Piazza de Navona, I saw a 
 man runninor alonsr with the doo- in his arms. I in- 
 stantly recognised the animal to be yours, and . . ." 
 
 " How did your lordship know it to be mine ? I did 
 not think we had ever met before." 
 
 " You, madam, probably never noticed me, but who 
 that has once seen i/ou could ever forget you V 
 
 " Oh, my lord, you flatter me !" 
 
 " No, madam, I would not on any account presume 
 to do so. I only asserted the simple fact, that, once 
 seen, Mrs. Maclaurin can never be foro-otten. I did
 
 STRATHERN. 271 
 
 not know your name when I was so fortunate as to 
 render you this little service, and only learned it when 
 I returned to this hotel, where I also lodge. I stopped 
 the man, and told liim he must deliver the dog to me. 
 He said he had found it in the street, and would not 
 surrender it without a reward. I was only too happy 
 to pay him his demand, and I brought the dog here 
 with me, intending to ascertain where you might be 
 found, when, on inquiry, I discovered that you in- 
 habited the same hotel as myself. Fearing that a lady 
 of your delicacy and refinement might be too much 
 agitated if I abruptly brought the dog into your pre- 
 sence, I took the precaution of leaving it in my room, 
 and, with your permission, I will now go and bring 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, my lord ! how shall I ever thank you 
 enouo^h V 
 
 " Pray don^t mention it, madam.'" 
 
 " But you must let me repay the sum you gave the 
 man."' 
 
 " Pardon me, madam, you must allow me to decline 
 accepting any remuneration. It was a mere bagatelle 
 — fifty pounds — not worth mentioning ;" and Lord 
 Alexander Beaulieu withdrew, and immediately re- 
 turned with Bijou. 
 
 The first thing Mrs. Maclaurin did was carefully to 
 examine the collar, and great was her satisfaction 
 when she found that it was uninjured. She then ad- 
 dressed a few words to the dog, and renewed her 
 thanks to Lord Alexander Beaulieu. 
 
 " I am here quite alone, my lord, only my dam di 
 company, and my soot of servants with me ; and I
 
 272 STRATHERN. 
 
 feel so soliutary and dull, that I heartily wish myself 
 back in Enolaud again. Rome is not the place I took 
 it to be, by no means ; I thought it was quite a gay 
 place like Brighton, but only genteeler, from being so 
 far off that common people could not afford to come to 
 it, and that there would be master of the ceremony's 
 balls, and concerts, and raffles at the circulating 
 libraries, and all manner of other amusements going 
 on ; but, instead of that, I find no sort of diversion, 
 and am as dull as ditchwater.'^ 
 
 " If I might presume to hope that my visits would 
 not be unacceptable, I need not say how much hap- 
 piness it would give me to assist to enliven your soli- 
 tude.'"* 
 
 " Oh ! my lord, how kind and condescending your 
 lordship is ! I am delighted to be acquainted with a 
 nobleman so polite and genteel, and if your lordship 
 will come and dine with me to-day, I shall be proud 
 and happy to receive you.'' 
 
 " You are too good, madam ; and although I have 
 an engagement of long standing, I will disengage my- 
 self, and have the honour of waiting on you." 
 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu took his leave, throwing 
 as much empressement and tendresse into his looks 
 and manner as he could, fully convinced that he had 
 made a most favourable impression on Mrs. Maclaurin ; 
 and for once his vanity did not mislead him. A lord, 
 and, above all, the first one with whom she had ever 
 conversed, could not fail to become an object of the 
 greatest interest to the vulgar-minded parmnue ; but 
 when he happened, as in the present instance, to be 
 tolerably good-looking, and to have an air and manner
 
 STRATHERN. 273 
 
 infinitely superior to that of the few men with whom 
 Mrs. Maclaurin had been acquainted in England, it 
 cannot be wondered at that he appeared nothing short 
 of perfection in her eyes. She ran to the mirror, the 
 moment he had left the room, to see if her looks were 
 satisfactory, and after a few minutes'* contemplation of 
 the image it reflected, which seemed to aff'ord her the 
 most perfect gratification, she desired Mrs. Bernard 
 to rins: the bell, and command the best dinner that 
 could be had. 
 
 " Tell them to have turtle, and venison, and every 
 other delicacy of the season, and not to mind expense ; 
 and to have champagne put in ice.'' 
 
 " I fear, madam, these are dainties not to be pro- 
 cured at Rome." 
 
 " What ! not be able to get turtle and venison I 
 What a horrid country !" 
 
 She then went to her dressing-room, when, having 
 ransf for the attendance of Justine, she entered into a 
 consultation with her, relative to her toilette. 
 
 " Did you ever know a lord, a real lord, Justing !" 
 said she. 
 
 " Old, madamSj several."*' 
 
 " And don't you think they are quite diflerent from 
 other men ? So elegant, and so genteel." 
 
 " I have known some lords who be vera polite, trh 
 hien eleven 
 
 " Oh, they are all elevated, you know." 
 
 " I do not mean dat, madame." 
 
 " Ah ! I guess what you mean. Justing ; you mean 
 that they are sometimes a little elevated, that they 
 
 n5
 
 274 STRATHERN. 
 
 di'iiik too much wine. You have heard, I dare say, 
 of the saying ' as drunk as a lord.' " 
 
 " No, madame, I not beUeve dat de milors drink 
 moche more dan oder mens." 
 
 " Well, it's no matter what you meant; but it is of 
 great consequence that I should be elegantly dressed 
 to-day, for I have engaged Lord Alexander Bowler to 
 dinner. Oh ! he's such a handsome man, and so po- 
 lite ! He found Bijou, and the collar is quite safe ; 
 and he gave fifty pounds to the man who stole it to 
 give it up to him, all because he knew the dog was 
 mine. Was not that good of him f 
 
 " But who vas de person dat did present dis milor 
 to you, madame V 
 
 " Himself, to be sure."' 
 
 " Ma foil Dat vas un peu trop sans ceremonies 
 
 " What's that you say \ You always forget I 
 don't understand French." 
 
 '' I said, madame, dat it vas too leetle ceremonie 
 for milor to present himself to you vidout knowing 
 you before, or asking some lady or gentleman to pre- 
 sent him." 
 
 " Lords have no occasion for ceremony. Justing ; 
 they know it's an honour to be acquainted with them, 
 so they go and visit who they like." 
 
 " Quelle drole de chose /" 
 
 " Droll shows — he did not say any thing about 
 them ; but if there are any at Rome, I'll ask him to es- 
 cort me to see them. I'll put on my diamond necklace, 
 Justing — No, on second thought, I'll wear my pearls ; 
 for, as he saw my diamond earrings, chain, and head 
 ornaments, just now 'twill be as well to let him see
 
 STRATHERN. 275 
 
 that I have other things. Oh ! Justing, he's such a 
 handsome man, and so genteel !" 
 
 " Eh bien^ madamer 
 
 " What's bang T 
 
 " I not know de exact Ensflish. I beo^in to tink, 
 madame, you lofe dis milor/' 
 
 " Ah ! Justing, if he loved me !" 
 
 " Peut-etre he does, madame."" 
 
 " I wish I was sure he did, and I should be happy. 
 Only fancy having such a husband, Justing, and to 
 be called * my lady,' and ' your ladyship ;' and to 
 have a coronet on my carriage, and on the buttons of 
 my servants' coats. Oh ! what happiness it would 
 be ! And to have my lord giving me his arm 
 wherever I went. Wouldn't I be a happy woman ? 
 
 " Aht ^a depend^ madame^... T 
 
 " Do, Justing, speak English ; you put me out of 
 all patience when you say what I can't understand." 
 
 " Veil, madame, vat I say is, dat moche depends 
 if dis milor lofe you truly, and not because he hear 
 you have moche money." 
 
 " Why you talk -for all the world. Justing, as if I 
 was an old woman, and not fit to be looked at. Why 
 shouldn't Lord Alexander Bowler love me truly f 
 
 And Mrs. Maclaurin's face grew red with anger. 
 The artful femme de chambre saw that she had gone 
 too far in her zeal to infuse doubts of the sincerity of 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu into the mind of her mis- 
 tress, and, anxious to repair this maladresse^ she im- 
 mediately had recourse to flattery. 
 
 " Dere is not no reason vy milor should not lofe 
 madame a lafolie^ nor vy all men should not do de
 
 27b' STRATHERN. 
 
 same, for madame is bootifool enough to faire Us 
 gi^andes paasions — dat is, to make all de men in de vorld 
 lofe her, but I hear of so many milors who spend de 
 large fortunes, and den vant to many de riches wwces 
 dat dey may have more money to spend." 
 
 " It is very wrong. Justing, for people to say such 
 things of the har^^stockcracy." 
 
 " I not know dat madame vas so great an aris- 
 tocrat." 
 
 " I wish I did belong to the harystockcracy ; but 
 perhaps I may, one day or other, Justing." And 
 Mrs. Maclaurin drew herself up with as dignified an 
 air as she could assume. 
 
 " Madame vould certainement do honour to the 
 pairie — dat is, to de pireage, I most say," observed 
 Justine ; and her mistress looked at herself in the 
 mirror, and smiled complacently. 
 
 " Aha ! madame, I see how it is, dis milor have 
 touched your heart, or, vat is more likely, his title 
 has touched it ;" said the wily femme de chambre 
 to herself, when left alone to her own reflections. 
 " Voyons^ vould it be better for me dat she marry or 
 not \ If dis milor is generous, comme il faiit and 
 aimable, it would perhaps be best dat she do marry 
 him ; but if, au contraire, he is ladre, mechanic et mat 
 ele'ce^ it vould be vera bad for me. I sail soon see. 
 If he has one valet de chambre^ I vill make connoissance 
 axec lui^ and learn all about his mastere. Y^femmes 
 de chamhre know vat ve are about, and can soon find 
 out every ting ve vant to know. Quelle femme vul- 
 qaire est ma maitresse! How she was pleased at a 
 visit from a milor ! She seem as thoudi she never
 
 STRATHERN. 277 
 
 spoke to milor before. And she put on her diamonds 
 in de mornin^^, to receive von 'cisite^ quelle horreur^ 
 and vil vear a parure at dinner, vid only dis milor 
 and dat hete^ Madame Bernard, fit for a grande recep- 
 tion. It is in vain I do tell her dat de ladies de hon 
 ton never do vear de grande parures^ except en grande 
 toilette^ and dat for de petit diner et soirees dey vear 
 de demi toilette^ vid de robes heaucoup plus simples^ 
 de long sleeves, and not decolletee ; but de dames 
 Anglais have de rage to be always too moche dressed 
 and too leetle, as the Prince de Talleyrand did say, 
 deir robes begin too late and end too soon. Oh ! how 
 I laugh ven de valet de chambre of de prince tell me 
 dis ; 'tis so true, for many of de dames Anglais vear 
 deir dress moche too low on de shoulders and bust, 
 and moche too short in de petticoat. Veil, veil, I 
 know dat if dis milor have de thought to marry my 
 maitresse^ he had better faire la cour a leetle to me, 
 for if he do not, I vill make madame refuse him. No, 
 no, she sail only marry who I vish. But probabie- 
 ment he never tink of dis foolish vulgaire voman. 
 Nous mrrons^ nous verrons^ 
 
 While Justine was indulging in her soliloquy, 
 Mrs. Maclaurin was questioning Mrs. Bernard as to 
 her opinion of Lord Alexander Beaulieu. '^ Did you 
 ever see so handsome a man before V demanded she. 
 " I did not much observe his lordship, madame." 
 " Just like you. Lords are not so very plenty that 
 you should not have felt some curiosity to see one. I 
 suppose you have known so many lords that you pay 
 little attention to them. But do you mean to say
 
 278 STKATHERN. 
 
 you ever saw a finer nobleman than Lord Alexander 
 Bowler V 
 
 " I have seen some, madame, that struck me as 
 beiuo' more noble-Iookino^." 
 
 " That shows me you are no judge, for I, who 
 ought, from my large fortune, to know something of 
 lords, am sure that this one is the finest of them all, 
 and those who think difibrently only prove their igno- 
 rance. I desire that you show his lordship proper 
 respect at table to-day, for it is a great honour for 
 you to dine with a nobleman of such high rank." 
 
 Mrs. Bernard was so accustomed to rudeness from 
 Mrs. Maclaurin that it had now ceased to make the 
 same painful impression on her as it had done when 
 she first engaged with that lady; nevertheless, the 
 dread of reproof operated so strongly on her that 
 she feared to give her opinion on any subject, even 
 when solicited to do so by Mrs. Maclaurin, and often 
 by this timidity drew on herself the censure she 
 wished to avoid. She now saw that Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu had made a deep impression in his visit of 
 the mornino- and looked forward with alarm to the 
 dinner, durino' which she doubted not that the hostess 
 would compromise herself still more.
 
 STRATHERN. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 With riches come a multitude of wants, 
 
 Unknown till luxury usurped the place 
 
 Of temperance. And heaps of gold are spent 
 
 To furnish forth to sated appetites 
 
 The costly viands which no pleasure yield, 
 
 But which, if absent, would again be craved ; 
 
 For custom renders necessary things 
 
 That first, as luxuries, enjoyment gave ; 
 
 And wealth, that might from poverty's stern grasp 
 
 So many rescue, pampers gluttony. 
 
 Punctual as a lover, Lord Alexander Beaulieu en- 
 tered the salon of Mrs. Maclaurin as the clock was 
 striking seven. He found the apartment nearly as 
 light as day from the profusion of wax-lights distri- 
 buted through it, and the lady herself attired in scarlet 
 velvet, full-trimmed with point-lace, and wearing splen- 
 did ornaments of pearls and diamonds. A bandeau of 
 the same precious gems encircled her liead, and, being 
 somewhat too tight, gave her broad and freckled fore- 
 head the appearance of the knee of a Highlander pro- 
 truding: from a tio^ht "garter. Plain and ill-favoured as 
 Mrs. Maclaurin naturally was, the splendour of lier
 
 280 STRATIIERN. 
 
 dress made her look still more ugly ; and her carriage 
 and demeanour were so strikingly vulgar, as to force 
 on every beholder the conviction that nature never 
 designed her to enact the part of a lady, or to wear 
 the costly ornaments which looked so wholly out of 
 their place on her person. The coarseness of her com- 
 plexion, the badness of her shape, and cast of her 
 countenance, resembling those peculiar to the Irish 
 apple-women to be seen at the corners of certain streets 
 in London, appeared to still greater disadvantage when 
 contrasted with the extreme richness of her dress. Her 
 arms and hands, large, ill-shaped, and red, betrayed 
 the hard w^ork to which they had frequently been ac- 
 customed, the traces of which not all the cosmetics 
 to which Mrs. Maclaurin had recourse could remove. 
 There is, perhaps, no portion of the person which be- 
 trays low birth so plainly as the hands and feet ; and 
 the leo^s and feet of a thorouo^hbred racer are not more 
 dissimilar from those of a dray-horse, than are those 
 members in a woman of gentle blood and in one of low 
 birth. Never was Lord Alexander Beaulieu more 
 convinced of this fact than when he beheld the ill- 
 shaped red arms and hands of his hostess, the wrists 
 confined by diamond bracelets, and the fubsey, square- 
 topped fingers glittering with valuable rings. Her 
 neck, too, short and ill-coloured, was encircled by 
 pearls, whose delicate whiteness contrasted most un- 
 pleasingly with it, and her coarse bust was revealed by 
 a style of dress that proclaimed alike her want of mo- 
 desty and good sense, for the least portion of either 
 would have led to a concealment of that part of her 
 person. Mrs. Maclaurin jumped rather than arose
 
 STRATHERN. 281 
 
 from her seat, so great was lier desire to do honour to 
 the reception of her aristocratic guest, the first she had 
 ever received ; and, in the abruptness of her movement, 
 she knocked down her tabouret^ and nearly fell over it. 
 A portion of the lace-trimming of her dress got torn 
 in her efibrts to preserve herself from falling, and her 
 whole person became crimsoned by the exertion. 
 
 '-' How glad I am to see your lordship again ! It's 
 very kind of you to come and take potluck with me. 
 Fm quite grieved that I couldn't get turtle and venison 
 for you, though I had the whole town searched for 
 them ; but this is a poor, mean place, where nothing 
 good is to be found. I told the people here not to 
 spare any expense, for I never spare money. You see 
 how easy I took the tearing of this beautiful lace'"* — and 
 she held up the torn trimming — " although it cost me 
 tv>^enty guineas a-yard. Pray be seated, my lord. 
 Mrs. Bernard, what could ye be thinking of to let his 
 lordship remain standing there, and never to place a 
 chair for him V 
 
 " I am shocked, madam, to give you so much trou- 
 ble,'' said Lord Alexander, preventing Mrs. Bernard 
 from placing a chair for him, and bowing politely to 
 the poor dame de compagnie. 
 
 " Don't mind her, my lord ; she's used to do every- 
 thing for me ; I only keep her for it." 
 
 Mrs. Bernard blushed to her very temples ; and 
 even Lord Alexander Beaulieu, albeit unused to feel 
 much sympathy with the oppressed, experienced a 
 sentiment of diso^ust at the rude and unfeelins^ conduct 
 of the vuloar woman before him. 
 
 " Ring the bell, and order dinner to be served.
 
 282 STRATHERN. 
 
 Didn't I tell you to have it put on the table the mo- 
 ment his lordship came V 
 
 Lord Alexander, with the good breeding peculiar to 
 the better part of his order, advanced to the bell before 
 Mrs. Bernard could reach it, and performed the ope- 
 ration she had been commanded to do. 
 
 " ! my lord, you really shock me j your lordship 
 must not be doing her work. Sure I keep her to do 
 all my little odd jobs, such as writing my letters, ring- 
 ing the bell, placing my footstool, and thranslating my 
 scoldings to them foreign servants, which last service 
 she does very badly ; for they no more seem to mind 
 her than if she was whistling jigs to a milestone." 
 
 " The dinner is served, madam," said the courier in 
 Italian. 
 
 " And time for it," observed Mrs. Maclaurin. " We 
 have been waiting a full quarter of an hour for it ; and 
 didn't I give ordhers that it was to be sent up the very 
 minute his lordship arrived V 
 
 The man, who understood not a word of what she 
 said, retired, and, throwing open the folding-doors, a 
 dinner-table, that might have served to dine twelve 
 persons instead of three, was disclosed in the adjoining 
 room, which, like the salon, was brilliantly illuminated. 
 Four soups were on the table, at the head of which the 
 hostess, led by Lord Alexander Beaulieu, seated her- 
 self. " What will your lordship please to take ? will 
 you have Pat of Italy ? I never can say the word Pat 
 without thinking of my poor counthry. I am an Irish- 
 woman, my lord, and in Ireland, though we have plenty 
 of Pats, we have no soup called afther them." 
 
 Lord Alexander had much difficulty to keep from
 
 STRATHERN. 283 
 
 lau2:hin<r, and he observed tliat Mrs. Bernard looked 
 ashamed and embarrassed. 
 
 " How bad the foreign soups are, my lord !" re- 
 sumed the obtuse hostess. " Such weak, wishy- 
 washy stuff ! No rich gravy soup, or ox-tail, or 
 giblet, or, above all, turtle. I like my soup strong, 
 and with plenty of pepper, which warms the mouth 
 and makes one relish the first glass of wine. Now, 
 isn't this too bad I Look at the four dishes of fish. 
 All messed up so that one can't tell one from the 
 other. Never can I see here a fine cod's head and 
 shoulders with plenty of oyster sauce, or a large 
 turbot with lobster ; no, nor even boiled soles with 
 shrimp sauce, or salmon, or, in fact, anything that is 
 good." 
 
 But though she found fault with the fish, Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin nevertheless partook heartily of each sort, 
 using her knife to convey the morsels to her mouth, 
 to the no small horror and disgust of her guest. 
 
 " ril take a glass of wine with you, my lord, if 
 your lordship has no objection f 
 
 " Madam, you do me too much honour." 
 
 " What wine do you prefer ? I like champagne best 
 myself, for it puts me into spirits." 
 
 " Champagne, then, let it be." 
 
 The wine poured out, Mrs. Maclaurin took her 
 glass, and holding it up, said, " Here's to our better 
 acquaintance, my lord," and drank off the contents. 
 " Why don't ye tell 'em to remove the fish, and 
 brino- the rest of the dinner? What's the "^ood of 
 knowing their lingo if you don't make use of your
 
 284 STRATHERN. 
 
 tongue r' and the uncouth hostess directed an angry 
 glance at her alarmed dame de compagnie^ to whom 
 her speech had been addressed. When the next 
 course was served — and it was sufficiently copious to 
 have dined a party of twenty — Mrs. Maclaurin ex- 
 claimed, " Oh ! look at the roast beef — was the like 
 ever seen before I Not a sign of fat, and stuck full of 
 bacon. They call this picking it — was there ever 
 such fools ? There's a dish, my lord, which the}^ make 
 a great fuss about. Will your lordship thry it I I 
 am told it's very good, but I haven't the courage to 
 ieat it, though I know some people who buy it in 
 London — I mean, wild bear." Lord Alexander looked 
 astonished. " Yes," resumed the lady, " I know 
 people who buy pieces of wild bear from the hair- 
 dressers, who kill them for the bear's grease, which 
 keeps the hair from falling off." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, madam," said Mrs. Bernard, 
 with a deprecating countenance, " but the dish on the 
 table to which you have referred is wild boar, and not 
 bear's flesh." 
 
 " And why couldn't ye say so at first ?" demanded 
 Mrs. Maclaurin, o-ivino; her a furious Mance. " Your 
 lordship eats nothing — positively nothing. Do have 
 something else. I'm afraid there's not anything on 
 the table that you like." 
 
 The lady herself, however, did ample justice to the 
 viands set before her, eating of every dish, though 
 finding fault with all, and importuning Lord Alex- 
 ander Beaulieu to follow her example. Never had a 
 dinner appeared to him so long and so ennuyeux ; he
 
 STRATHERN. 285 
 
 was consequently impatient for its termination, and 
 decided on making his escape as early as it was possi- 
 ble, consistent with politeness. 
 
 " Drink another glass of champagne, my lord, it 
 will do your lordship good, for your lordship seems a 
 cup too low ; I often feel so myself, but I think it 
 is all the fault of this muggy climate. No sharp 
 breezes to whet the appetite and brace the nerves. 
 Well, I shan't be sorry when I get back to old 
 England again, and see a good substantial meal set 
 before me." 
 
 The dinner removed, an expensive dessert replaced 
 it, and Mrs. Maclaurin was for airain loadins: the 
 plate of her guest, heaping fruit and conserves on it. 
 " Now, do, my lord, pray do ; 'twill do you good, 
 indeed it will."' 
 
 The hostess seemed to have no intention of retirinji 
 from the mlle-a-manger^ although the embarrassment 
 of Mrs. Bernard, betrayed by anxious looks towards 
 the door, and imploring ones to the lady, might have 
 reminded any one less obtuse than Mrs. Maclaurin of 
 the solecism in propriety she was committing by 
 remaining so long there. She continued to partake 
 of every fruit on the table, pronouncing each to be 
 bad, and, to Lord Alexander Beaulieu's amazement 
 and horror, washed them down by repeated bumpers 
 of wine, which, strange to say, appeared to affect her 
 so little as to induce the belief that her habits of 
 intemperance were so confirmed as to render her in 
 some degree proof against the effects of her unfemi- 
 nine excess. Her spirits rose in proportion to her 
 libations, and she volunteered a song, but even the
 
 286 STRATHERN. 
 
 charm of her voice, and it still retained its pristine 
 sweetness, could not make her guest forget the disgust 
 occasioned by her conduct. He literally felt a loathing, 
 as he looked at her ugly face, flushed from the effects 
 of the wine she had drank, and allowed that wealth, 
 however great its extent, would be dearly bought by 
 w^eddius: such a woman. But thousrh Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu acknowledged this fact to himself, he was by 
 no means disposed to abandon his project of marrying 
 Mrs. Maclaurin, should she give her consent to their 
 union. " She is even more hideous and vulgar than 
 I could have imagined," thought he, " and, in addi- 
 tion, has contracted the most diso^ustinjx of all habits 
 in a woman, that of inebriation. Nevertheless, if I 
 can wed her, the indulgence of this horrible habit, and 
 I will take especial care not to check it, will abridge 
 her days, and free me from such a burden, leaving me 
 at liberty to enjoy her wealth." Such were the reflec- 
 tions of this heartless man of the world, as he sat at the 
 board of the vulgar woman whose fortune he longed to 
 appropriate ; while she, dazzled by his title, and cap- 
 tivated by his manner, and that indescribable air and 
 tone peculiar to persons of high breeding, thought 
 only of doing him honour, and securing his acquaint- 
 ance. 
 
 At length the folding doors of the salle-a-manger 
 were thrown open by the upper servant of Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin, and that lady was led by Lord Alexander 
 Beaulieu to the drawing-room, where a table, laden 
 with coffee, tea, and cakes of every description was 
 set out. 
 
 " Doesn't this remind your lordship of England ?"
 
 STRATHERN. 287 
 
 exclaimed the lady, pointing to a pile of hot muffins 
 and crumpets, and to a large sally lunn. " Yes, this 
 and my breakfast are the only comfortable meals I 
 have, for they are thoroughly English, thanks to an 
 excellent London pastrycook, who is established at 
 Rome. Through him I am also enabled to have 
 beef-steaks and mutton-chops, and bottled porter for 
 my luncheon every day, which keeps me alive, for 
 positively I should die if I had not something to keep 
 me up, after the bad dinners I get — a pack of kick- 
 shaws enough to poison one. Do eat a hot muffin, or 
 crumpet — you really must, for you ate nothing at 
 dinner. Well, then, a slice of sally lunn — it is capi- 
 tal, I assure you, and the butter excellent. I got it 
 from the dairy of a prince — I forget his name — who 
 sells it instead of keeping it for his own use. Fancy a 
 prince, a real prince, selling butter ! Well, Fm sure 
 none of our English princes would do such a thing ; 
 but, I forgot, we have no princes ; our royal family 
 are only dukes." 
 
 Lord Alexander, having witnessed the demolition 
 of sundry muffins, crumpets, and slices of sally lunn, 
 by Mrs. Maclaurin, and the emptying of several cups 
 of tea, pleaded an indispensable engagement of long 
 standing, and arose to depart. 
 
 " Sure you'll not go away so early," said the lady. 
 " Stay a little longer, and let us have a comfortable 
 chat by the fire." 
 
 Lord Alexander expressed great regret at the im- 
 possibility of his being able to remain, and so well 
 enacted it that his hostess observed — 
 
 " If you can't stay now, what's to hinder your
 
 288 STRATHERN. 
 
 coming back to have a bit of supper with me ? Merely 
 some broiled chicken with mushrooms, and a few 
 other light things. I always have a hot supper ; it 
 makes such a good finish to the day, and insures one 
 a good night's rest, for going to bed on an empty 
 stomach is sure to keep me awake." 
 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu ursred an eno-as^ement 
 with some of his male friends, after the soiree he w^as 
 o-oino" to should be over, as an excuse for not return- 
 ing to supper. 
 
 " Can't you bring 'em here? I like a merry party, 
 and, as I know no one in Rome, Fll be very glad to 
 make some pleasant acquaintances. Yes, bring some 
 of those young lords here, and Til order a larger 
 supper." 
 
 " They could not think of coming, madam, without 
 being previously presented to you." 
 
 " Oh ! don't let them stand on any ceremony. I 
 hate ceremony, and so I tell Mrs. Bernard every day. 
 Would you believe it, that, when I proposed to send 
 invitations to all the lords and ladies at Rome to come 
 and dine with me, she persuaded me not to do so, 
 saying, they would think it strange, and refuse to 
 come. But I told her, how am I ever to make ac- 
 quaintances if there is no beginning. They won't 
 begin, so I must ; and, as I have more money than 
 any of them — ay, and perhaps than all of them put 
 together — it's my place to invite them. Don't you 
 think, my lord, I was right 2" 
 
 " If I may be permitted to give an opinion, I should 
 say that Mrs. Bernard's judgment was correct. It is 
 not the usage in society, and persons of a certain rank
 
 STRATHERN. 289 
 
 are peculiarly careful not to violate etiquette, or to 
 accept invitations from total strangers.'' 
 
 " But it's their own fault that Fm a stranger to 
 them. Here I am, ready and willing to be acquainted 
 with them ; and what more can I do than wish to 
 show them a little Irish hospitality V 
 
 " As you have done me the honour of consulting 
 me, I hope you will allow me to advise you not to 
 make any overtures towards acquaintance with the 
 English society here. A single lady, travelling in 
 Italy without the protection of a husband, father, or 
 brother, is placed in a delicate situation, and, unless 
 well known in the fashionable world, or presented 
 by some lady of distinction, she would find it difficult, 
 if not impossible, to enter the circles here." 
 
 " It's not my fault that I am travelling without a 
 husband. The one I had — and a very good-natured 
 old gentleman he was — is dead and gone ; and, though 
 I have had some offers of marriage since, none of them 
 shuited me ; but, if I could meet with a gentleman or 
 nobleman" — and here the speaker looked full in the 
 face of Lord Alexander Beaulieu — " who would not 
 object to a rich wife, I'd soon make up my mind to 
 change my condition, for, after all, it's but a solitary 
 life to be always condemned to have no companion but 
 Mrs. Bernard, who never says or does any thing to 
 amuse or divart one." 
 
 There was no mistakino; this hint, and it was not 
 lost on him for whom it was meant, though the total 
 want of womanly feeling which it indicated increased 
 his bad opinion of the lady, to whom, having made 
 his bow, he departed, heartily glad to have escaped 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 STRATIIERN. 
 
 her presence, but fully determined to pursue his ad- 
 dresses to her. " I'll soon change her present vulgar 
 system of reckless extravagance,'" thought he, as he 
 proceeded to a soiree at Lady Melsingham's, " and 
 find better use for the money she so foolishly lavishes 
 in her own selfish enjoyments."*"* 
 
 Thus reasoned Lord Alexander Beaulieu, forgetful 
 that, while he found fault with the selfishness of Mrs. 
 Maclaurin, he was no less culpable of that sin himself, 
 in his determination to curb her enjoyments, that he 
 might more fully indulge his own. But so it often is, 
 those are most ready to censure in others the very 
 vices most prevalent in themselves, and to curtail, if 
 in their power, the expenditure that contributes to the 
 pleasures of the very persons to whom they owe all 
 they possess. 
 
 When Lord Alexander Beaulieu found himself that 
 night in the midst of that circle which he considered 
 the ne plus ultra oi i2i^\\\on^ and into which Mrs. Mac- 
 laurin so ardently longed to obtain an entrance, the 
 world's dread laugh when his courtship to the vulgar 
 parmnue should become known, presented itself to his 
 mind, and he shrank under it, even in anticipation. 
 " But gold — gold," thought he, " will console me for 
 the ridicule such a mesalliance cannot fail to excite ; 
 and, after all, my marriage will be like other events, 
 but a nine days' wonder, soon to be forgotten for some 
 newer topic.'"* 
 
 " Where have you been hiding yourself, Axy ?" said 
 Lord Fitzwarren. " Come, tell me where you dined 
 to-day. I looked for you everywhere, because I 
 wanted you to dine with me j but, hang me, if I could
 
 STRATHERN-. 29 1 
 
 discover where you were. You are not a man to eat 
 a bad dinner at your own expense, when you might 
 get a good one at a friend's, are you, Axy ?" 
 
 " I dined alone. Had a headache, and, by abstinence 
 and temperance, two remedies not easily to be prac- 
 tised in your society, Fitz, I have got better." 
 
 " No, Axy, I won't believe a word of it. You have 
 been about some mischief. I see it by your face, for 
 you look as thoughtful as if you had lost some 
 thousands on the Derby or Oaks." 
 
 " Or as if I were going to be married," added Lord 
 Alexander. 
 
 " There's not much chance of that," said Lord 
 Fitzwarren, piqued by the implied sarcasm ; " younger 
 brothers can't easily find wives now-a-days, unless 
 they are content to wed city heiresses or rich dowa- 
 gers." 
 
 " Better marry for money than be chosen for it," 
 observed Lord Alexander Beaulieu. " Poor men are 
 compelled to wed for fortune ; but rich ones are caught 
 by portionless girls, who care not for the men, but for 
 their wealth." 
 
 Lord Fitzwarren felt the sneer, but, doubtful of his 
 own power of repaying it in kind, he abstained from 
 replying, and moved away. 
 
 " I am so glad to have met you," said Lady Wel- 
 lerby, rising from a card-table where she had just won 
 three rubbers, and anxious not to risk any portion of 
 her winnings by continuing to play. " I wished to 
 speak to you about your friend Lord Fitzwarren. I 
 know you have considerable influence over him, and I 
 want you to exercise it, in order to induce him not to 
 
 o 2
 
 292 STRATHERN. 
 
 persist in dining every day at his hotel, instead of 
 coming to us. It looks so strange, so very unac- 
 countable, that I fear it ma}^ give rise to ill-natured 
 observations.'*' 
 
 " In your place. Lady Wellerby, I would not inter- 
 fere with his fancies. Let him dine where he likes, 
 for Fitz is an obstinate fellow, and cannot bear being 
 meddled with.*" 
 
 " But don't you think it is very strange that, being 
 so desperately in love, and on the point of marriage 
 with Lady Olivia, he should prefer dining away from 
 her, nay, even remain so long at table after dinner, 
 that he is not always fit for the society of ladies V 
 
 " Que wulez rous ? Such are his habits, and he is 
 not likely to change them.'' 
 
 " But surely you might advise him, might hint at 
 the impropriety of his continuino^ to pursue the same 
 course, now that he is about to be married, that he did 
 before he had proposed and been accepted." 
 
 " And so quarrel with an old friend, which would 
 be the inevitable consequence of such officiousness on 
 my part. No, Lady Wellerby, I have had too much 
 experience to force advice on my friends ; so you must 
 excuse my interfering on this occasion." 
 
 " I dare say you are right, quite right. Lord Alex- 
 ander Beaulieu ; and, after all, the bright eyes of 
 Olivia will do more in bringing him to our wishes than 
 raiy advice, and I will trust entirely to that." 
 
 And Lady Wellerby turned to speak to Mrs. 
 Sydney, who, with her lovely daughter and Strathern, 
 who seldom left her side for a moment, were seated 
 near the spot. A feeling of bitter hatred and envy,
 
 STRATHERN. 29o 
 
 similar to tliat which the serpent may have been sup- 
 posed to have experienced, when contemplating the hap- 
 piness of our first parents in Paradise, inflicted a severe 
 pang on the breast of Lord Alexander Beaulieu, as he 
 glanced on the happy countenances of the fair Louisa 
 Sydney and the enamoured Strathern. " He^'''' 
 thought Lord Alexander, "has now a rich prize, 
 uniting in herself, youth, beauty, good family, and 
 a great portion, while I — I am compelled to stoop to 
 ugliness, vulgarity of the coarsest description, and 
 connexions of which, judging from the horrid woman 
 herself, I can scarcely form too repelling an idea. Yes, 
 they may well smile. Life wears for them its brightest 
 aspect. How I hate them both ! Her^ for rejecting 
 my vows, and him for being preferred. Would that 
 I could wreak some portion of the vengeance my 
 breast prompts on their heads ! — that I could disturb 
 that happiness which they so ostentatiously display ! 
 But I will not despair of yet accomplishing this. 
 Mine is not a nature to forgive slights, or to let oppor- 
 tunities of punishing them pass by unheeded. Yes, 
 ye may smile now, but a day shall come when your 
 smiles shall be turned to bitter pangs, and I — I will 
 be the cause. Were ye told this at present, ye would 
 be incredulous, and hold in derision my threats, so 
 confident are ye of your mutual affection and con- 
 stancy ; but I, who better know the weakness of 
 human nature, and yours in particular, who am aware- 
 of the ungovernable pride and quick sensibilities of 
 you both, — / know the vulnerable points to assail, 
 and in anticipation rejoice in the torture I doom you to 
 endure. And yet I could have loved this fair crea-
 
 294^ STRATHERN. 
 
 ture ; and lier wealth, had she bestowed her hand on 
 me, might have rendered me a good man. The 
 temptations, instigated by poverty, that demon who 
 prompts so much evil, would no longer have existed ; 
 and in the enjoyment of affluence, and blessed with 
 such a wdfe, my nature would have changed. But she 
 spurned me, yes, contemptuously spurned me, and I — 
 fool, dolt, idiot as I was — I offered to her mother the 
 vows that she had rejected, and met a similar refusal. 
 The mother and daughter have doubtlessly compared 
 notes on my disastrous proposals, and consequently I 
 have probably been made the subject of their scornful 
 mirth. I loathe them both for this, and my wounded 
 pride cries aloud for vengeance when we meet, and 
 that I shrink with shame from their glance. Strathern, 
 too — he is made acquainted with my rejected suits, 
 and joins in their ridicule of me ; I see it in his 
 altered mien, his averted eye. When were women 
 known to conceal any triumph they may have achieved, 
 or to have spared their mockery of any aspirant to 
 their favour whom they may have repulsed ? Perhaps 
 the very smiles now playing on the lips of all three have 
 their origin in my rejection. There is wrath and hate — 
 unquenchable and direful hate — in the thought ; and 
 should my vengeance slumber, the recollection of 
 these smiles shall awaken it, and urge me to work the 
 ruin of their happiness, when least they dream of the 
 hand they have armed against them.'"* 
 
 Who that beheld Lord Alexander Beaulieu while 
 these reflections were passing in his mind could have 
 believed that the mild, gentlemanly-looking man, with 
 manners so bland and demeanour so distinguished,
 
 STRATHERN. 295 
 
 who made one of the fashionable crowd in the soiree 
 at Lady Melsingham's, was, witli the spirit of a fiend, 
 contemplating the happiness of those who had never 
 injured him, nay, who, while he imagined them 
 smilino^ in derision at him, bestowed not a thouoht on 
 him, and were at the moment unconscious of his pre- 
 sence ! Alas for poor human nature ! such plotters 
 against the peace of others are not rare in society, and 
 many are those who, urged on by envy, hatred, ma- 
 lice, and all uncharitableness, do not hesitate to wound 
 those who have never injured them. 
 
 Before Lord Alexander Beaulieu had left his pillow 
 the next morning, a note, so perfumed with otto of 
 rose as to make his head ache, was presented to him. 
 Gilt cupids, with all the emblems of the sly archer, 
 decorated the border, with the glaring vulgarity of 
 which the contents of the note bore no similarity. It 
 contained only the following lines : — " Mrs. Bernard 
 is commanded by Mrs. Maclaurin to request the 
 honour of Lord Alexander Beaulieu' s company at 
 dinner to-day, at seven o'clock." 
 
 " By my faith, this wild Irish woman is determined 
 not to let our acquaintance cool," said he, turning with 
 distaste from the perfumed billet. " There will be 
 no occasion for me to take any trouble to win her 
 hand — and, ye gods ! what a hand ! — for I venture to 
 say that ere many days have elapsed she will demand 
 mine. I wish she was not such an abominable bore ; 
 for it would be convenient enouo-h to find a o-ood 
 dinner at my hotel, which would cost nothing, when 
 I had no other engagement. If she were less out- 
 rageously vulgar, I might ask one or two men to dine
 
 206 STliATHERN. 
 
 with her, and so lighten the overpowering dulness 
 that pervades her too substantial repasts ; but she so 
 exposes herself that I must keep her out of sight until 
 the nuptial benediction shall give me the power to 
 check her exuberance of manners, and modify her into 
 something less offensive than she is at present.'"* 
 
 " The lady has sent for an answer, my lord," said 
 Lord Alexander Beaulieu's valet, entering, and break- 
 ing the chain of his master's reflections. 
 
 " Say I am not up — not awake — any thing — but 
 add that an answer shall be sent when I have made 
 my toilette.'' 
 
 '' What a monster, thus to torment me !" resumed 
 Lord Alexander, when the closing of the door assured 
 him that his valet had departed. " Positively, I hate 
 her more and more, as I discover how pushing and 
 impudent she is. I plainly see I shall have no peace 
 until I have a legal right to govern this obstreperous 
 worn — no, hang it, I won't so far degrade the sex as 
 to call her woman — this odious animal. Were she 
 only modest and quiet, I could find it in my heart, in 
 spite of her ignorance and ugliness, to behave tole- 
 rably well to her ; but I see she will soon wear out 
 my small stock of patience, and when that is gone 
 she will find I am not a man to be trifled with. I 
 never knew how abominable any thing in petticoats 
 could be, until I made the acquaintance of the delec- 
 table Mrs. Maclaurin. I can hardly, much as I want 
 money, bring myself to think of such a creature being 
 called Lady Alexander Beaulieu. Faugh ! it sticks 
 in my throat. I must not think of it."
 
 STRATHERN, 297 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Shun selfishness, nor let it entrance find 
 Within thy breast, for 'tis a deadly foe 
 To noble impulses and gen'rous deeds, 
 Cank'ring the heart where it doth once take root, 
 And stealing it 'gainst pity's soft appeals. 
 It knows not love, or friendship — all engross' d 
 By its own narrow joys, or cares, it lives 
 Shut out from sympathy with human kind." 
 
 " Well, Livy, and so the old governor tells me that 
 we must go to Naples to be spliced, as Protestants 
 can't be married at Rome. What a deuced bore, isn't 
 it ? I thought the thing could be done here without 
 any trouble or bother, instead of which we are to be 
 dragged to Naples in the company of the old people. 
 The very thought of it sets me yawning.'' 
 
 " We shall soon be released from their society," 
 said the Lady Olivia, " and a great relief it will be, 
 for papa is so surly, and mamma so full of fancies, 
 and so fond of giving advice, that I long to be away 
 from them." 
 
 "" Then you, Livy, have as great a dislike to being 
 advised as I have, it seems. I never could stand it. 
 
 5
 
 298 STRATHERN. 
 
 Even when a child, I used to fight the nursery gover- 
 ness for attempting to counsel me, and I often re- 
 sented my poor mother's advice, though it was, I dare 
 say, meant all for my good. But tell me, Livy, 
 couldn't we manage to put off our marriage until we 
 return to England ? There we could have all matters 
 so much better arranged. Settlements drawn up, 
 weddinoj finery bought, new carriao-es ordered, horses 
 purchased, and my houses brushed up." 
 
 " Oh ! I'm sure, Lord Fitzwarren, if ^ou are not 
 in a hurry, I am not," and Lady Olivia bridled and 
 looked greatly offended. 
 
 " Come, Livy, don't be angry. I am very willing 
 that we should be spliced to-morrow, for the matter of 
 that, but I hate trouble and bother, and I foresee I 
 shall have plenty of both, with the old ones." 
 
 " Can't you write home to your lawyer, to have the 
 settlement drawn up and sent out here for our signa- 
 tures ?" 
 
 " You are right ; so I can, and will, too, by this 
 very post. I wonder I never thought of it before. 
 You have a good head, Livy, I am glad to see. It 
 will take from eighteen to twenty- one days for my 
 letter to get to town — three weeks or a month for 
 those plaguy lawyers to have the title-deeds examined 
 and the settlement drawn — and eighteen days to 
 bring them here ; so that it will be nearly three months 
 before we can be married. This is a bore, for I like 
 to do every thing oif-hand, without delay, just as I do 
 out hunting, when I never look before I leap, lest I 
 should funk, and become a timid rider. Rome gets 
 terribly stale to me, Livy, and I have just been think-
 
 STRATHERN. 299 
 
 ing that, to wile away the next three months, it would 
 amuse one to run over Italy a little. I have seen 
 nothing of it yet but Florence and this dull place, and 
 I should like to go to Venice, on thence to Naples, 
 and make a tour in Sicily, and so meet you at Naples 
 by the time the settlements can arrive there. Don't 
 you think this would be a good plan, Livy T"* 
 
 Lady Olivia, though really indifferent to her future 
 husband, whose society was even irksome to her, was 
 nevertheless mortified and offended at this convincing 
 proof of his indifference towards her. She felt that, if 
 he had any attachment to her, he would not propose 
 a separation of three months merely for his pleasure, 
 and she resented this indifference on his part as warmly 
 as if she herself were not conscious of an equal want 
 of affection towards him. She had, however, acquired 
 a sufficient knowledge of his character to be fully 
 aware of the impolicy of betraying the anger she felt ; 
 and, though bursting with rage, she smoothed her 
 brow, and said, that though a separation from him of 
 three months would give her great pain, she would 
 not put her own pleasure in competition with his, and 
 should, therefore, not oppose his wishes. Never had 
 Lady Olivia previously achieved so great a conquest 
 over her temper, and it soon met its own reward, for 
 Lord Fitzwarren, gratified by her docility, declared 
 that she was a deuced sensible girl not to wish to have 
 him always tied to her apron-string, and that he liked 
 her all the better for her readiness to meet his 
 wishes. 
 
 " ril be off to-morrow," said he, " for the sooner
 
 300 STRATHERN. 
 
 the better. I'm heartily tired of Rome, and shall be 
 glad when I leave it.'' 
 
 " You will dine here, won't you ?" and Lady Olivia 
 put on her most winning smile. 
 
 " No, Livy, it's impossible. I cannot stand the old 
 governor's dinners and wine. Both are execrable ; 
 and life is too short to spoil one's comfort by eating 
 bad dinners, and drinking bad wine, when one can get 
 better." 
 
 " But you will come early in the evening ; Do, 
 pray, dear Fitzwarren." 
 
 " As early as I can, Livy. I hate to gulp down 
 my wine in a hurry, and I must smoke half-a-dozen 
 cigars, my usual quantum ; and then I have to change 
 my dress, lest you should be annoyed by the odour of 
 the smoke ; so you see it will be late before I can get 
 here." 
 
 Still Lady Olivia smiled as blandly as ever, nor 
 even when her selfish and unloving future husband 
 took his departure, urging the necessity of looking 
 out for some fellow to partake his dinner, did she 
 evince the slightest symptom of the angry emotions 
 that were struggling in her breast. When, however, 
 he had left the house, she could no longer control her 
 feelings, and a passionate burst of tears revealed their 
 bitterness. 
 
 ''To be thus slighted by such a brute," said she, 
 " after all the pains I have taken to win him, is too, too 
 mortifying. How I hate him !" but, ere she could 
 finish the sentence, and the expression of her counte- 
 nance indicated that it breathed of future vengeance
 
 STRATHERN. SOI 
 
 for present slights, the door was hastily opened, and 
 Lord Fitzwarren entered. 
 
 " I forgot my handkerchief," said he, walking up 
 to the chair where he had left it ; and then observing, 
 for the first time, the tears of Lady Olivia, which she 
 vainly sought to check, he took her hand, and, with 
 more gentleness than he usually evinced, asked what 
 was the cause of her weeping. 
 
 " Tell me, Livy, what is the matter ? I never saw 
 you thus before. I can't bear to see a woman cry ; it 
 makes me feel quite out of my element. Come, Livy, 
 tell me, what is the matter V 
 
 "Nothing, nothing," sobbed the lady, a sudden 
 thought flashing across her artful mind, of turning 
 the tears or anger she could not check to good account. 
 " I have been wea — weak, and fool — foolish, at the 
 thought of your leav — leaving me for so long a time, 
 and was so overpowered that all my good resolutions 
 of not giving way to my feelings vanished," and she 
 wept anew. " Don't blame me, dear Fitzwarren, for 
 indeed I could not help it !" 
 
 " Poor Livy ! Don't cry — there's a dear, good 
 girl !" and, softened by her emotion, which he re- 
 ceived as a genuine proof of her affection, he never felt 
 so well disposed towards his future wife as at that 
 moment. 
 
 " You will think me so weak, so childish," and her 
 sobs nearly impeded her utterance. " I would not 
 weep before you, but, when I thought you were really 
 gone, my tears would no longer be controlled." 
 
 " You have a warm and affectionate heart, Livy — 
 that you have," and he put his arm around her waist
 
 302 STRATHERN. 
 
 and kissed lier cheek. " And you are a good girl, 
 Livy, not to have tried to argue me out of going. If 
 you had, ten to one I should only have been more 
 determined on it, for I am an obstinate fellow, and as 
 difficult to be managed as my mare Fanny, who always 
 would have her own way ; but now that I see you are 
 really grieved, and have shown no ill temper about it, 
 I'll put off my tour for a week ; so dry your eyes, 
 Livy, and let me find you this evening as gay as ever 
 when I come." 
 
 So saying, Lord Fitzwarren, having again pressed 
 his lips on the brow of his lady-love, took his leave, 
 well satisfied with her, and still more so with himself. 
 " The poor girl is desperately fond of me, that's clear," 
 thought he. "I didn't think she was so devilishly in 
 love with me," and he pulled up the collar of his shirt, 
 and threw himself to the utmost height of his stature. 
 " Well, I must say it showed very good sense in her 
 not to cry until I was gone. I'm glad though that I 
 caught her in tears, poor soul ! It makes me like her 
 better than before — yes, much better. If that plaguy 
 girl. Miss Sydney, had only loved me half so well as 
 poor Livy does — if I could but have seen her shed 
 tears at the thought of my absence, hang me if I 
 shouldn't have been ready to give up every thing — ay, 
 and do any thing on earth she liked ! It's odd how 
 that girl sticks in my mind ! but I suppose it is be- 
 cause she is so confoundedly handsome, and above 
 all, perhaps, because I know I can't have her. Devil 
 take her, say I, with all my heart, for preferring that 
 fellow Strathern to me ! What could she see in him 
 to make her accept him, when she was so cold and
 
 STRATHERN. 303 
 
 haughty to me ? Well, Livy wouldn't, Fm sure — 
 no, she is really devoted to me. Never saw a girl so 
 much in love in all my life ; I'm afraid she'll be 
 plaguishly jealous — all loving wives are — and that 
 would be a horrid bore ! Poor Livy ! I must really 
 not make her unhappy ; but what is a fellow to do who 
 is rather good-looking, and rather admired by the 
 women \ 'Tisn't my fault if they will take a fancy to 
 me, for I don't lay myself out to please them — never 
 did, and never will — but, somehow or other, they will 
 take a fancy to me." 
 
 Soon after Lord Fitzwarren had left Lady Olivia, 
 her mother and sister, who were in the next room, 
 entered ; and Lady Wellerby, observing the traces of 
 tears in her daughter's eyes, inquired the cause. 
 " Have you had any quarrel with him, Olivia ?" de- 
 manded she. " You know I cautioned you to avoid 
 the least difference of opinion with him, for he is as 
 obstinate as a mule, and will not bear the slightest 
 contradiction." 
 
 " I should think that I am not quite such a fool as 
 not to know how to manage him by this time," said 
 the Lady Olivia, looking very sulky. 
 
 " But why have you been in tears ? Something 
 must have occurred to make you weep, for you are 
 not prone to shed tears, and I am really alarmed for 
 the consequences. It would be too bad if any thing 
 should now occur to disturb a marriage so happily 
 arranged, and to which we all look forward with such 
 delight." 
 
 " If any thing could disturb it, it would be the bad 
 dinners and wine here, which prevent Fitzwarren
 
 304 STRATHERN. 
 
 from dinino^ with us, and so he is thrown among men 
 who might talk him out of marrying/' 
 
 " Bad dinners and wine here ! why you really sur- 
 prise me, Olivia. Your father does nothing but scold 
 me from morning till night on the expensiveness of 
 our table, and, no later than this very morning, in- 
 sisted on my making a new arrangement with Lam- 
 bertini, our host, to furnish our dinners on a more 
 moderate scale and for less money." 
 
 "Well, I never heard any thing to equal the 
 coolness of a lover telling the object of his affection 
 that her father's dinners and wine are not good enough 
 to induce him to come and partake them with her. 
 Poor Olivia ! what a prospect of misery is before 
 you !" 
 
 " I don't require your pity, Sophia, and I beg you 
 will reserve it." 
 
 " Pray don't quarrel, girls ; but tell me, Olivia, 
 the cause of your tears." 
 
 " Is it not enough to make any one cry to have a 
 father so stingy that he will not, on an. occasion like 
 the present, allow proper dinners, when the want of 
 them compels Lord Fitzwarren to dine away from 
 me r 
 
 " If he cared a straw for you, Olivia, he would 
 prefer the worst dinner possible with you to the best 
 when absent from you." 
 
 " Just like you, Sophia 5 always putting the most 
 ill-natured construction on everything, and saying the 
 most spiteful things." 
 
 " 1 only speak the truth. Ask any one, and he or 
 she will tell you exactly what I have done."
 
 STRATHERN. 305 
 
 " I did not think, Olivia," observed the lady- 
 mother, " that you had allowed your feelings to be at 
 all interested by Lord Fitzwarren. I fancied that 
 you considered your marriage with him wholly as one 
 de convenances 
 
 " Nevertheless, it is not possible for me, mamma, to 
 see myself ill-treated without my being wounded by 
 it. When neither you or papa will put yourselves the 
 least out of the way to please and conciliate my 
 future husband, is it to be wondered at that, instead 
 of showing me proper attention and respect, he never 
 dines here, and is thrown among a set of brutes of 
 men who encourage him to drink and smoke every 
 evening? He now proposes to set off for Venice, 
 thence to Naples and Sicily.''^ 
 
 " Good gracious ! you don't really mean this ! No, 
 no ; we must guard against such a measure by every 
 means in our power, for the probability is that, if he 
 once got away, there would be an end to the marriage. 
 I don't wonder you wept, my poor Olivia. You must 
 really have been greatly alarmed by such a proposal 
 coming from him.*' 
 
 " Does not this very proposal prove that he does 
 not care a pin for Olivia V observed Lady Sophia. 
 
 " Sophy, you will drive me mad, with your ill- 
 nature ;" and here a few more tears chased each other 
 down the flushed cheeks of Lady Olivia. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Sophy, and don't irritate your 
 sister. Lay aside your jealousies and quarrels, and 
 let us consult on what is best to be done to prevent 
 this foolish man's getting out of our clutches." 
 
 " The first thing is, to get good dinners and wines.
 
 306 STRATHERN. 
 
 to induce him to dine here instead of at his own 
 hotel : and the second is, to make the sacrifice of 
 letting him smoke here." 
 
 " Really, Olivia, I don't know how all this is to 
 be managed. I'll try to make your father under- 
 stand the necessity of a change in our dinners, but for 
 the smoking, it is too much to expect, I never could 
 bear the horrid odour of tobacco, and " 
 
 " You prefer risking the happiness of your daughter 
 to supporting a disagreeable odour for a short time," 
 observed Lady Olivia, reproachfully. 
 
 " You do me injustice, Olivia, indeed you do. There 
 is nothing to which I would not submit rather than 
 you should miss so eligible a marriage, and I will go 
 and say all I can to your father to induce him to come 
 into our plans, and co-operate with us." 
 
 " ! how I wish I was married !" exclaimed Lady 
 Olivia, as her mother left the room. " Once secure 
 of being Countess of Fitzwarren, with a large settle- 
 ment and a good allowance, and I will pay off this 
 selfish man for all his sins. But to be compelled to 
 restrain my indignation, and enact the agreeable 
 when I am bursting with anger, is more than I can 
 bear." 
 
 " Then you acknowledge that the brute does vex 
 and annoy you, Olivia ?" observed Lady Sophia ; " yet 
 w^hen I expressed my sympathy, you resented it as an 
 insult." 
 
 " Sympathy I never experienced from you, Sophy ; 
 and pity I scorn to accept from any one ;" and Lady 
 Olivia drew herself up proudly, and withdrew. 
 
 When Lady Wellerby sought her lord, she found
 
 STRATHERN. 807 
 
 him engaged in looking over the bills of the last 
 month. This periodical occupation never failed to 
 have a very disagreeable effect on his temper, which, 
 never good, became most irascible on these occasions, 
 — a fact so well known to his family in general, but to 
 his lady-wife in particular, that his daughters and 
 servants avoided his presence as much as possible, and 
 Lady Wellerby dreaded to enter it. 
 
 " A pretty system of extravagance you have been 
 carrying on during the last month,'' said he, looking 
 angrily at his cava sposa^ and pointing to a long bill 
 on the table. 
 
 " Really, Lord Wellerby, I cannot accuse myself 
 of a single act of extravagance, and cannot even 
 imagine to what you refer." 
 
 " The devil you can't ! But so you always say. 
 What do you call the ices, orgeats, lemonades, and 
 cakes, furnished for your ' at homes' once a week, 
 without counting the expense of lights ? yet you tell 
 me, forsooth, that you cannot accuse yourself of a 
 single act of extravagance. Have I not cited 
 extravagance \ — yes, shameful, wanton extravagance ! 
 What occasion is there for your receiving people once 
 a week, or at all, for the matter of that ? Are there 
 not fools enough here to throw open their rooms for 
 company without your doing so ? But I tell you what. 
 Lady Wellerby, I'll stand no more such nonsense ; if 
 you can't live without society, go out and seek it at 
 other people's expense." 
 
 Lady Wellerby had lived long enough with her 
 husband to be aware that the most prudent plan to 
 adopt with him when angry was to let him talk on
 
 308 STRATHERN. 
 
 until lie had exhausted his breath, and then to put in 
 her rejoinder. That moment had now arrived, and 
 she took advantage of it. 
 
 " How a man of your knowledge of the world, 
 Lord Wellerby, can suppose that I could go out night 
 after night accepting the invitations of my acquaint- 
 ance, without, in return, opening my doors to them at 
 least once a week, and in the cheapest of all manners, 
 a soiree^ does indeed surprise me. Nay, more, I must 
 confess I am hurt to find that, after the brilliant 
 marriage I have secured for our daughter, you betray 
 so little sense of the value of my exertions that you 
 reproach me for the trifling expense incurred to keep 
 up my acquaintance with the society here, which is of 
 course so highly advantageous to my girls.'"* 
 
 " But having secured a husband for Olivia, where is 
 the necessity of now receiving company once a w^eek, 
 Lady Wellerby V 
 
 " Have I not still a husband to find for Sophia, 
 and how is this to be done without my making every 
 exertion in my power I The fact is, my dear, I came 
 to tell you that, for Olivia's sake, it is indispensably 
 necessary that you undraw your purse-strings, and...'' 
 
 " Hold, Lady Wellerby, I foresee what is coming. 
 Some new project of expense is, I plainly see, running 
 in your head, and I tell you, once for all, that I will 
 not adopt it." 
 
 Lord Wellerby was warm, drew his breath heavily, 
 and beat his fingers on the table, two well-known 
 symptoms of his discomposure, and indicative of an 
 obstinate determination to retain his own opinions. 
 
 " What would you say if I were to tell you that
 
 STRATHERN. S09 
 
 there is considerable danger of Lord Fitzwarren jilt- 
 ino- Olivia ? — aj, you look incredulous, but I repeat 
 it — and all because you will not give him good dinners 
 and wine." 
 
 " Why, what the devil do you mean, Lady Wel- 
 lerby? You can't be serious. No, it's impossible 
 that any man could behave so ill !" 
 
 " I assure you I left poor Olivia in tears — yes, my 
 lord, in tears !'' 
 
 " Oh ! for the matter of that, you women always 
 have tears at will. You will cry for any thing — ay, 
 faith, and for nothino: — so I don't attach much im- 
 portance to her weeping." 
 
 " She wept, Lord Wellerby, because her future 
 husband told her that he could not dine here owing 
 to the bad dinners and wine you gave." 
 
 " And who the devil asked him, I should like to 
 know ? Not I, I'll be sworn, for I could see no good, 
 once he was caught, in throwing away money in din- 
 ners for him. People give them to catch husbands 
 for their daughters, and not after they are secured. 
 Besides, it puts me out of patience to see fools making 
 love, when I know that in a few months after the knot 
 is tied they'll wish each other a thousand miles off, or 
 probably worse." 
 
 " I do not wish to interfere in your opinion ; all I 
 desire is to acquaint you that Lord Fitzwarren, by 
 dining away from Olivia every day, and giving up a 
 couple of hours after to his smoking, gets weaned 
 from her society, and now shows so much indifference 
 as to propose leaving Rome on a tour, and proceeding 
 to Sicily, there to remain until the settlements are
 
 810 STRATHERN. 
 
 sent out from England, and that the marriage can 
 take place at Naples." 
 
 " The devil he does ! This looks as if he beo:an to 
 change his mind. And yet so far from thinking that 
 his not dining here every day, and being tied to 
 Olivia's apron-string all the evening had led to this, I 
 should think that it would produce the very contrary 
 effect ; for I have known fellows so tired of the society 
 of the girls they were to marry, while the lawyers were 
 drawing out the settlements, that, could they have 
 decently got out of the engagement, they w^ould never 
 have fulfilled it. Women never make a greater mis- 
 take than when they fancy they can't give too much 
 of their company to their admirers, and we men could 
 give them some good advice on this subject. Now, if 
 this blockhead — and a blockhead I pronounced him 
 from the first to be — begins already to be tired of 
 Olivia, be assured the way to render him completely 
 so will be to have him to dine here often, however 
 good the dinners and wine offered him may be ; con- 
 sequently, there is no use in throwing away money in 
 that way. If he is really determined on leaving Rome, 
 let us affect to think his plan a very natural and eli- 
 gible one, and offer not the slightest obstacle to it. 
 Opposition always inflames a Aveak man to carry his 
 schemes into effect, whereas an approval of them often 
 induces him to abandon them. Let Olivia be careful 
 never to thwart him in any thing. Let her give way 
 to all his fancies, however unreasonable they may be, 
 and, above all, let her appear to think that whatever 
 he says or does is and must be right, and all will turn 
 out well. The more I reflect on it, the less reason I
 
 STRATHERN. 811 
 
 see to fear the result, though I was startled at the 
 first moment when I heard he proposed leaving Rome. 
 If he goes, she can, as they are engaged, and so soon 
 to be married, write to him, and, by filHng her letters 
 with flattery, he will be more devoted to her when 
 absent than present. Flattery is a grand secret for 
 keeping as well as for catching men. Without it they 
 soon tire of the society of the handsomest and cleverest 
 women ; and the least gifted, both in mind and per- 
 son, of your sex, who will condescend to flatter one of 
 mine, will be sure to gain favour with him. But it's 
 not necessary to tell yoit this ; you know it well 
 enough, and tried it on me with perfect success. If 
 you had not, I should never have been caught by you^ 
 I can answer for it ; and, like all who have been 
 duped, I take a spiteful pleasure in seeing others vic- 
 timized." 
 
 " How can you. Lord Wellerby, assert what you 
 must know to be unjust towards me I Our long union 
 and my unaltered and unalterable afi"ection ought to..." 
 
 " Stuft' — nonsense. Lady Wellerby ! don't try to 
 humbug me ! It's useless, perfectly useless. I under- 
 stand you perfectly, and you ought to understand me 
 by this time. Neither of us can impose on the other ; 
 but as we have the same interest in srettino- our o-irls 
 
 o o a 
 
 off* our hands — are launched in the same boat, as one 
 may say — we must pull together, put on a good face, 
 and keep our own secrets. I shan't tell the world 
 that I know you to be a heartless, weak woman, de- 
 voted to the card-table, and you, I dare say, will not 
 disclose to your cronies that I am an unmanageable 
 husband — brute, I suspect, would be the term you
 
 312 STRATHERN. 
 
 would apply — who will not allow you to injure my 
 fortune by your extravagance." 
 
 " Was there ever such a man !" exclaimed the mor- 
 tified Lady Wellerby, as the door closed after her 
 brusque husband. " He is indeed a perfect brute ; and, 
 though I have carefully refrained from even hinting to 
 him that such is my opinion, he verifies the truth of 
 the proverb that ' a guilty conscience needs no accuser,' 
 and has guessed my thoughts. Well may he say he 
 is unmanao-eable ! What have I left undone to con- 
 ciliate him l Have I not borne and forborne to a 
 degree that would have tested the patience of a saint, 
 and all to no end ? and now to have the mortification 
 to know that it is impossible to make him believe a 
 single thing I would persuade him to ! He is so cun- 
 ning, that there is no imposing on him ; so brusque^ 
 that no submission will mollify him ; so stingy, that it 
 is next to impossible to get a guinea out of his purse ; 
 and so unfeeling, that he only laughs at the annoyance 
 he inflicts. And it was to become his wife, and to 
 endure long years of humiliation and ill-humour, that 
 I used every art to please and win him ! Would that 
 my efforts had been unsuccessful ; far better had it 
 been to have remained single all my days than to have 
 married him ! AVhat bright visions I indulged of 
 wedded life before I entered its pale ! With fortune 
 and rank, I dreamt not that happiness might be unat- 
 tainable ; and, though T cared not for him through 
 whom these advantages were to be acquired, I doubted 
 not that I should be as happy as most of the fashion- 
 able women of my acquaintance. He has defeated all 
 my schemes, destroyed all my hopes, and, were it not
 
 STRATHERN. 313 
 
 for the excitement furnished me by the card-table, my 
 existence would be insupportable. Then how hard is 
 it to be compelled to wear a mask, to smile when one 
 is much more disposed to weep, and to make the world 
 believe that one has the kindest husband, the most 
 dutiful children, and the happiest home imaginable, 
 when one is writhing under the conviction of having 
 precisely the reverse of all these blessings ! To know 
 this, and yet not be able to wish Mm dead, is too vex- 
 atious. But such is my fate ; for my jointure is so 
 miserably small, and I am so well convinced that he 
 will bequeath me but little should I happen to survive 
 him, that I should find myself still worse off as a widow 
 than as a wife. Were it not for this conviction, how 
 would I pray to be released from the heavy chain that 
 has so long galled me, and how joyfully would I don 
 ray sables ! Well, there is no use in repining, and so 
 I have said to myself hundreds of times during the 
 many weary years I have dragged on with this unfeel- 
 ing man. If I can but get both girls off my hands, I 
 shall be content ; and then I will defeat his plan of 
 settling down in the country, by counterfeiting some 
 internal malady which will require my being always 
 in some capital within reach of medical aid. 
 
 " I must now go and advise Olivia how to play her 
 cards, though thankless enough I must say she is, for all 
 the good counsel I have lavished on her. How strange it 
 is that my daughters should be so heartless ! They must 
 take after their father, it is clear, for they have none 
 of my good-nature, or sensibility, or that perfect free- 
 dom from selfishness, which has always been so striking 
 a characteristic of me. Well, the fault is not mine. 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 814 STRATHERN. 
 
 I have done all that was possible, both by precept and 
 example, to render them estimable and amiable, but 
 their father's evil nature predominates over mine in 
 their characters, and cannot be subdued. 1 wish, with 
 all my heart, I was rid of them, for they exercise 
 my patience to its utmost limit. Heigh-ho ! who 
 would be a wife to such an odious man as Lord Wel- 
 lerby, or mother to such self-willed daughters as 
 mine V 
 
 Thus soliloquised Lady Wellerby, and, strange to 
 say, like many others, more addicted to scrutinise the 
 characters of those with whom they live than to look 
 into their own, she had made herself perfectly acquainted 
 with all the defects of her husband and dauohters — 
 defects which she was by no means disposed to ex- 
 tenuate or gloss over — while she not only remained in 
 perfect ignorance of those evil qualities existing in her 
 own nature, but positively believed that she was pos- 
 sessed of no ordinary points of sensibility, good-nature, 
 and disinterestedness— a strange self-deception, under 
 which innumerable persons labour, and out of which 
 few can be reasoned ! 
 
 " I have seen your father, my dear Olivia,^' said 
 Lady Wellerby, as she entered the salon where both 
 her daughters were seated ; " and I cannot prevail on 
 him to consent to our giving better dinners and wine, 
 in order to induce Lord Fitzwarren to dine here. I 
 assure you, I have left nothing unsaid to bring him to 
 our wishes, but he is impracticable, and remained deaf 
 to my advice." 
 
 " I expected nothing else," replied Lady Olivia, who, 
 ever since her en<;airement to Lord Fitzwarren, had
 
 STRATHERN. 815 
 
 assumed an impertinence of tone and manner towards 
 her parents, but more especially her mother, no less 
 unbecoming than reprehensible. 
 
 " Let me, therefore, advise you, my dear Olivia, 
 to " 
 
 " Pray let there be a truce to advice, mamma. I 
 have had quite enough of it, and can assure you I have 
 a much better chance of success in the manasrement of 
 
 o 
 
 my affairs, by being left to follow the suggestions of my 
 own judgment, formed on my knowledge of the charac- 
 ter of Lord Fitzwarren, than by adopting your's or 
 papa's." 
 
 " This ingratitude is unlooked-for, wholly so, Oli- 
 via,"" and Lady Wellerby put her handkerchief to her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ingratitude !"' repeated Lady Olivia ; " I really am 
 at a loss to comprehend what ingratitude is to be found 
 in my preferring to take the management of that which 
 concerns only me, and in the most important event of 
 my whole life, into my own hands !'' and she arose 
 and left the room without one word of kindness to her 
 mother. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 FREDERICK SHOBERL, JUNIOR, 
 
 PRINTER TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE ALBERT, 
 
 51, RUPJsRT STREET, HAYMARKET, LONDON.
 
 A^ 
 
 U''
 
 Via. 
 
 ^A-\