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 '^
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF : 
 
 OE, 
 
 PRODIGALITY AND SPECULATION 
 
 IN THE 
 
 iSinetecntfj ^enturg. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 T. C. NEWBY, 30, WELBECK STREET, 
 
 CAVENDISH SQUARE. 
 1849.'
 
 r^ 3 
 6 5-5-r 
 
 TO 
 
 THE EDITOR OF 
 
 IN EARNEST ADMIRATION OF 
 
 THE TALENT, COURAGE, AND HIGH TRINCIPLE 
 
 HE DISPLAYED, 
 
 WHILST EXPOSING THE DISASTROUS INFLUENCE OF THAT 
 
 PRODIGIOUS MANIA FOR SPECULATION 
 
 FROM WHICH 
 
 ALL RANKS OF SOCIETY ARE NOW SUFFERING, 
 
 THESE VOLUMES 
 ARE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 
 
 BY HIS OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 On the seventh of last month (September, 
 1849) a leading article appeared in the Times 
 journal, recommending a work to be written, 
 which was to be " of eminent advantage to the 
 public," and for which " a very rapid sale" was 
 predicted. The writer went on to say — "we 
 would take any young author in hand who is 
 burning with a noble thirst for literary dis- 
 tinction, and give him the plan of a work, which, 
 if well executed, would carry his name into 
 every gentleman's library and every merchant's 
 counting-house in the three kingdoms. The 
 subject should be ^Railway Frauds.''^''
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 After stating whence the materials of such a 
 work might be drawn, and giving some vahiable 
 hints for their proper arrangement, he proceeds 
 to state : — 
 
 " The knavery, the folly, the chuckling self^ 
 gratulation of the dupers, the mad expectation 
 and the abject despair of the duped, might thus 
 be not inappropriately referred each to the 
 scene of action on which it was displayed or 
 called forth. This prolific thesis might again 
 be handled in the biographical manner. Pleasing 
 sketches might be given of the great specula- 
 tors, who, in the pursuit of wealth, were utterly 
 careless of what hearts they might break, what 
 families they might ruin, or what degree of 
 infamy might attach to their own names. So 
 that he winnowed his facts well, and discharged 
 his self-appointed task in a spirit of conscien- 
 tiousness and integrity, an author might deal 
 boldly with names in such a manner, and be 
 utterly fearless of consequences. Lord Denman 
 and a Middlesex jury would constitute an
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 awkward tribunal for any infamous speculator 
 who should please to consider the history of his 
 rascality a libel." 
 
 When this article came under the author's 
 observation, he had already written at least 
 half of the present volumes, upon a plan very 
 similar to the one so clearly laid down by the 
 able editor of the Times, but comprehending 
 other objects, which certain events that had 
 recently come before the public with a painful 
 prominence, had suggested to him. He desired 
 to show, not only the pernicious influence on 
 society of the great speculators, but the almost 
 equally injurious influence of the great squan- 
 derers. 
 
 The result has been the work now presented 
 to the reader. In its pages he has " held the 
 mirror up to nature," with a determination to 
 reflect faithfully existing follies and vices, while 
 he exhibits the same fidelity in portraying some 
 of the brighter characteristics of our social state. 
 How much there may be of imagination and
 
 Till PREFACE. 
 
 how much of matter-of-fact in the composition 
 of this picture, he leaves his readers to discover, 
 but even when most imaginative he has been 
 conscious only of one feeling — a desire to 
 a})proach as nearly to the truth as was possible 
 to him under the peculiar circumstances of the 
 case. 
 
 October 20th, 1849.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 3Sod6 tfie ^iv^U 
 
 SAVING AND SPENDING. 
 
 VOL.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE TWO BOYS. 
 
 We all know that is a manufacturing 
 
 county ; indeed, the frequency with which tall 
 chimneys, and immense piles of brickwork with 
 innumerable windows, form features in the 
 landscape, induces the traveller to believe that 
 he is in the chief manufacturing district of 
 England : and this impression is not likely to 
 be removed on his entering great towns, appa- 
 rently entirely composed of the same useful but 
 unpicturesque buildings; or when passing under, 
 above, or near, the numerous railroads that 
 b2
 
 4 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 intersect the country in almost every direction, 
 bearing upon their iron lines long trains of car- 
 riages filled with the various products of the 
 county. 
 
 But at the period at which this story opens 
 these railroads were not in existence, and the 
 vast traffic of the district was carried on either 
 by means of canals, or by a still slower convey- 
 ance, usually called 'Hhe flying waggon." There 
 were also several ports on the coast, at which 
 were shipped — not only for various commercial 
 cities and towns of Great Britain, but for nume- 
 rous foreign destinations — immense quantities 
 of the different species of " goods'' sent out by 
 the unsightly factories, mills, and " works" that 
 flourished in this manufacturing county. 
 
 Agriculture was not entirely driven from that 
 busy portion of our island. There were still 
 capacious farm-houses and comfortable home- 
 steads, and the district was still famous for its 
 dairy produce, the excellence of its crops, and 
 the admirable breed of its sheep and cattle ; and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 also sustained its fame for a breed not less worthy 
 of admiration, though perhaps not so favourably 
 quoted— its rustic squires and long-estabHshed 
 landed gentry. 
 
 It was impossible for any traveller to pass 
 along the high roads, or wend his way through 
 the deep, shady lanes that led out of them to 
 the fields, and woods, and commons that were 
 to be found wherever they were sought, without 
 observing mansions of various styles of architec- 
 ture : the quaintest Gothic of Henry the Eighth 
 — the most formal piece of Dutch taste of the 
 age of William the Third — and the most im- 
 posing Italian of a more modern period. 
 
 These were the seats of the old provincial 
 families; some of very remote origin, and the 
 majority, if not wealthy, yet from their rank 
 or standing possessed of a degree of influence 
 which caused them to be much respected in 
 their neighbourhood. Noble features in the 
 landscape w^ere their fine houses and fine parks ; 
 even the more modest homes of those who pos-
 
 6 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 sessed corresponding estates, were almost always 
 characterized by English comfort and good 
 taste. 
 
 Beautiful was the prospect that opened before 
 the gaze, where the rich park scenery, broken 
 by its own bright lake or river, led on till the eye 
 of the spectator fell upon the picturesque house 
 of the proprietor, resting like a nest against the 
 dark woods that filled up the back-ground. But 
 after feasting his gaze upon scenes so charac- 
 teristic of England, when the unsightly buildings 
 of a manufacturing village obtruded themselves 
 into the view — a dozen tall chimneys belching 
 out a thick black smoke, that dimmed the blue 
 sky, and poisoned the pure air for miles around, 
 the traveller lost all artistic relish for the pros- 
 pect, and proceeded on his way, wondering why, 
 if " God made the country and man made the 
 town" — man had not been forced to keep to his 
 own share of the manufacture. 
 
 The resident nobility and gentry did not see 
 unmoved the multiplication of these eyesores
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 7 
 
 throughout the county, nor remain indifferent 
 when a great staring: mansion was erected in their 
 neighbourhood, something for the state and 
 something for the accommodation of a successful 
 button-maker, or fortunate factor of broadcloth. 
 Nor were they more reconciled to their new 
 neighbours, when a moneyspinner of the same 
 species, acquired by purchase an estate of some 
 impoverished proprietor that lay contiguous to 
 their own. 
 
 It may therefore be easily understood that 
 the old landlords, from the lord lieutenant in 
 his castle to the yeoman in his cottage, held 
 the manufacturing interest in no particular 
 respect. Indeed, the rich were looked down 
 upon as upstarts, and the poor were the objects 
 of distrust or disgust. This feeling was re- 
 turned with interest by the manufacturing mag- 
 nates, who affected to despise the titles and pos- 
 sessions of the landed proprietors, and held still 
 more cheaply their principles, pursuits, and poli- 
 tics. Even the people they employed appeared to
 
 y THE GOLDEN CALF* 
 
 display a similar feeling of hostility against all 
 labourers who gained their bread by agricultural 
 pursuits, which, in their superior wisdom, they 
 fancied much beneath the attention of any man 
 who had sufficient brains to learn a mechanical 
 trade, or had influence enough to get employed 
 as one of the " hands" in a flourishing factory. 
 
 It was about this time that two boys came home 
 from their several schools for the midsummer 
 holidays. Though both were natives of that part 
 of the country, they had not the slightest know- 
 ledge of each other. Nor was it probable that 
 they could have had; their positions in life 
 being, as nearly as could be, at opposite ends of 
 the social scale. 
 
 The one had been pampered and indulged 
 from his cradle ; every whim had been gratified, 
 and every effort made to impress him with the 
 conviction that all around him were willing 
 slaves, created only to minister to his desires; 
 the other had got through a painful childhood 
 ill an clement where toil was eternally struggling
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 1) 
 
 wiili want, and whore nothing was so clear as 
 the truth, that man was made to Uve by the 
 sweat of his brow, and had no other resource 
 against starvation. 
 
 The one was returning Irom a first-rate edu- 
 cational establishment for the sons of the 
 nobihty and gentry— an institution admirably 
 adapted for learning little and paying much, 
 and therefore it flourished under the noblest 
 auspices. In this instance the boy went to 
 Han*ow, because his father had done so: and 
 Dr. Gradus w^as very glad to have such a pupil, 
 for his half year's expenses came to little less 
 than two hundred pounds, without including 
 his private debt-, which he had used his best 
 exertions to make considerable, and had not 
 altosjether failed. 
 
 The other boy had gone to a certain com- 
 mercial academy in Yorkshire, where reading, 
 writing and arithmetic, geography, including 
 the use of the globes, land-surveying, and book- 
 keeping both by double and single euu'y, were 
 b3
 
 10 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 taught at the most trifling expense to parents 
 and guardians. Other accompHshments might 
 be obtained at a moderate increase of outlay; 
 but whether it was that the supporters of 
 Messrs. Slashem and Pinchem entertained 
 doubts about the accent of the French these 
 gentlemen professed to teach, or were careless 
 respecting the dead languages, and indifferent 
 to the attractions of drawing and dancing, very 
 seldom were their half-yearly accounts increased 
 by anything under the dreaded item "extras;" 
 and the half year's schooling of the boy to whom 
 I am referring, came exactly to ten pounds. 
 
 The one boy was the only son of the Duke 
 of Axminster, the Lord Lieutenant of the 
 county — the other was the eldest of the seven 
 children of John Snobson, the overlooker at the 
 mill of Pipkin and Co., the eminent calico- 
 printers in the same district. The home of one 
 was for the present at Axminister Castle, though 
 this regal edifice was obliged to share that en- 
 dearing title with Hillsberry Hall, Warwick-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 11 
 
 shire — Axminster House, London — Lily Bank, 
 Richmond, Surrey— Lochnagarry Court, Scot- 
 land, and Kilconnan Abbey, County Dublin, 
 Ireland. 
 
 The young Marquis of Hillsberry came home 
 in a travelling chariot, with his own tutor, the 
 Rev. Hildebrand Beauclerk, in the inside, and 
 the much more stylish person, his noble father's 
 valet, Hyppolite Le Grande, in the rumble, 
 outside. The reverend Hildebrand was absorbed 
 in the study of a pocket iEschylus, so that he 
 could not notice his right honourable pupil amus- 
 ing himself by blowing peas through a tin tube 
 into open windows, or against whatever pigs, 
 dogs, cats, and old women had the ill fortune to 
 be within shot as the carriage passed : whilst M. 
 Hyppolite Le Grande sat with his arms folded, 
 enjoying the fun, and kissing his hand to all the 
 pretty girls that appeared at the casements to 
 watch the passing of the handsome equipage ; or 
 made some gallant speech to such as stood still 
 on the path, as far from the road as they couldj
 
 12 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 apparently afraid of being run over by the high- 
 spirited horses. 
 
 The overlooker's son came home, as might 
 
 be expected, in a very different conveyance. 
 
 He had been obhged to avail himself of the 
 
 cheapest v^^ay of getting from Bower-House 
 
 Academy to his only home — the one-storied 
 
 house at the end of the little dirty village of 
 
 Mill Street, adjoining the mill of Pipkin and 
 
 Co. He was very uncomfortable, could scarcely 
 
 move, and had hardly room to breathe; for he was 
 
 stowed among butter-firkins, sides of bacon, 
 
 crates of eggs, carcases of fresh-killed pigs and 
 
 sheep, bags of nails, barrels of beer, bales of 
 
 drapery, cheeses, drugs, snuff, pepper, coffee, 
 
 brimstone, and half a hundred other unpleasant 
 
 commodities. He would have preferred walking, 
 
 but he had already trudged by the side of his 
 
 humble conveyance till he was thoroughly tired 
 
 and foot-sore. So unpleasant, however, was his 
 
 present position, that nothing but the blisters on 
 
 his heels would have kept him in that stifling
 
 TUE GOLDEN CALF. 13 
 
 atmosphere and constrained position, for another 
 minute. 
 
 So intolerable were his present discomforts 
 that he began to wish that he had remained at 
 school for the holidays, as he had done more 
 than once before. This, however, he knew was 
 impossible: his father could not afford to let 
 him stay any longer at a commercial academy, 
 so cheap even as that of Messrs. Slashem and 
 Pinchem. His prospect beneath the paternal 
 roof must have been unconsoling indeed, if it 
 permitted of his wishing to continue under the 
 grinding system that flourished at Bower- House 
 Academy ; yet this was the case. Ill used as 
 he had been at the Yorkshire school, he pre- 
 ferred a further sojourn there to the privations 
 and dull routine of wretchedness that awaited 
 him at home. 
 
 The young Marquis had his fancy rabbits, his 
 ponies, his greyhounds, his terriers, and nume- 
 rous other favourites, great and small ; besides 
 a fond mother, an indulgent father, and an
 
 14 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 idolized sister. Poor John Snobson had no 
 living thing he could call his own ; and though 
 he had parents, as well as brothers and sisters, 
 he could not anticipate that their satisfaction 
 would be very lively, at the appearance of an 
 additional mouth to divide with them the in- 
 adequate meal which three times a day must 
 suffice for their sustenance. 
 
 John fell into a reverie about the miseries of 
 poverty and the value of wealth, and the more 
 he thought of the subject, the less was he satisfied 
 with the existing state of things, in rendering 
 him so uncomfortable and wretched, when he 
 should have preferred a state of things as nearly 
 the reverse as possible. He made a vow that 
 all his future exertions should be directed to 
 getting rich : but though the resolution was a 
 good one, he was quite at a loss for the proper 
 means for its fulfilment, and continued very me- 
 lancholy in consequence. 
 
 At the same time the young Marquis, happier 
 than any bird that ever escaped from its cagCj
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 15 
 
 proceeded on his course, in the same reckless 
 spirit with which he commenced it. Did the 
 glass from a gas-lamp rattle on the stones as the 
 carriage rolled rapidly along, his reverend com- 
 panion, too absorbed in his classical studies, 
 never took his eyes from the page before him : 
 and even if a window or two were heard to 
 sound as if a penny piece had been thrown 
 through the panes, the worthy tutor continued 
 to be regardless of everything but the beauties 
 of iEschylus. 
 
 The postilions proceeded at the same pace, 
 without once looking back, though they might 
 hear people caUing after them; and were 
 within a mile of their destination when they 
 approached a shabby-looking errand-cart, the 
 driver walking at the head of his overloaded 
 horse. From his position the Marquis could 
 see into the cart, and discovered a boy sitting, 
 nose and knees as it were jammed together, on 
 a deal box, staring with such a vacant, dismal 
 countenance, that his lordship could not resist
 
 16 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 applying his pea-shooter to his mouth, and 
 rattling upon the other's head a shower of harm- 
 less shot. He anticipated nothing beyond start- 
 ling the dismal-looking boy ; but it so happened 
 that the peas were blown with such force, that 
 some went through the open space in the cart 
 into the ear of the horse, and so frightened him, 
 that he turned sharp round ; the wheels of the 
 cart and those of the carriage suddenly came in 
 contact, and there was an upset. The Reverend 
 Hildebrand Beauclerk received a severe bruise, 
 and his ^schylus was sent out of his hand into 
 the neighbouring ditch, where M. Le Grande 
 was deposited — without, however, any damage, 
 except to his fashionable dress. The young 
 Marquis, with surprising agility, had opened 
 the carriage door as the two vehicles were 
 coming in contact, and managed to jump out 
 with little hurt beyond a sharp graze on his 
 arm. His first thought, when he found himself 
 on his legs, was not for his own worthy tutor, 
 or for his noble fathers valet, — both equally
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 17 
 
 requiring assistancej — but, very much to his 
 credit, for the poor boy in the errand-cart, who, 
 in the midst of so many heavy packages, was 
 Hkely to have got seriously injured. 
 
 He scrambled into the overturned vehicle, 
 and with the help of the driver removed various 
 articles till they came to the prostrate form of 
 John Snobson. He seemed insensible — so they 
 carefully lifted him out. Lord Hillsberry in- 
 sisted that the sufferer should be taken into the 
 carriage, which fortunately was intact, and the 
 horses uninjured, while the old errand-cart, on 
 the contrary, was too completely disabled to 
 proceed on its destination till it had received a 
 thorough repair. The Reverend Hildebrand in- 
 terrupted the manipulation of his arms and legs, 
 that had been going on since the arbitrary sepa- 
 ration of himself and his ^schylus, to venture 
 some objections to having in the vehicle so 
 unfit a companion for the most noble the Mar- 
 quis of Hillsberry ; but the young Marquis, it is 
 supposed, did not hear them, for he continued
 
 18 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 to assist in the transfer of the poor boy from the 
 cart to the carriage, just as if his worthy tutor 
 had never opened his mouth ; and what is more, 
 he kept vociferating to the errand-cart driver, and 
 to one of the postilions, whom he had enUsted 
 in this service of humanity, to be careful how 
 they supported their burthen. 
 
 Indeed, had the latter been his own brother. 
 Lord Hillsberry could not have exhibited more 
 sympathy and consideration; carrying his care 
 for the unfortunate boy so far as to hint to his 
 reverend fellow traveller the advantages of his 
 sitting for the remainder of the journey in the 
 rumble, by the side of Le Grande, who was 
 standing with a rueful countenance on the path- 
 way, now trying to restore to its once elegant 
 form his mis-shapen hat, and now striving with 
 desperate energy to obliterate with a dock-leaf 
 the extensive discoloration of his inexpres- 
 sibles. 
 
 But it was the tutor's turn not to hear: he, 
 however, very kindly made way for the new
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 19 
 
 comer, kindly expressed his commiseration at 
 his pitiable state, and quite as kindly hoped that 
 medical aid might be obtained before he ex- 
 pired. The possibility of so dreadful a contin- 
 gency as the Reverend Hildebrand had last 
 hinted at, appeared very much to excite his 
 noble pupil. Telhng the owner of the errand- 
 cart to get his vehicle repaired and come to 
 Axminster Castle for all expenses, he impa- 
 tiently bade the disconsolate valet return to his 
 seat, and then ordered the postilions to drive to 
 the Castle with great care, yet with all possible 
 dispatch. 
 
 Tremendous was the consternation exhibited 
 in every part of this magnificent establishment, 
 when, after the equipage had rattled through the 
 great gate of the Park, and had stopped at the 
 principal entrance to the mansion, the Marquis 
 called to the group of tall footmen loitering there, 
 in purple and gold, to hasten to the carriage door. 
 They were soon made aware that something 
 extraordinary had happened, by the lugubrious
 
 20 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 aspect and undeniable pickle of Le Grande, to 
 say nothing of the particularly grave deport- 
 ment and rather painful expression of counte- 
 nance of the Rev. Hildebrand Beauclerk. But 
 when they beheld the under-butler and prin- 
 cipal state footman bearing what appeared to 
 be the body of a boy through the great hall, 
 and up the grand staircase, in the direction of 
 the young Marquis's apartments, the commo- 
 tion became indescribable. 
 
 Le Grande soon found himself not only " the 
 observed of all observers," but the object of 
 questions innumerable from a circle composed 
 of the butler, the groom of the chambers, the 
 French cook, the head coachman, and the clerk 
 of the kitchen, who had surrounded him, for the 
 purpose of learning something respecting the 
 extraordinary proceeding they had just wit- 
 nessed. The Rev. Hildebrand was pounced 
 upon by another circle, composed of the 
 chaplain, the secretary, the steward, the head 
 gardener, the bailitfj the superintendent of the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 21 
 
 model farm, and the princip?^ stud-groom, or 
 head of the stable ; whilst a mob of pages, 
 footmen, grooms, porters, and gamekeepers, 
 clustered round the postilions, equally intent 
 on obtaining the same information. 
 
 Leaving valet, tutor, and postilions to their 
 own resources, the Marquis and his attendants 
 proceeded carefully with their burthen, till 
 they entered Lord Hillsberry's bedroom, and 
 he bade them deposit their charge on his bed, 
 and then run for the doctor; but the domestic 
 iEsculapius, having managed to learn that an 
 accident had occurred, had already hastened to 
 proffer his services, and having caused his 
 patient to be stripped, examined him very care- 
 fully, whilst the heir of the great ducal house 
 of Axminster stood by, manifesting the deepest 
 anxiety. 
 
 Poor John Snobson, on recovering conscious- 
 ness, was equally confused and frightened when 
 he found himself in a warm bath, with a dozen 
 leeches at his temples, a grave-looking gentle-
 
 22 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 man in black feeling his pulse, and half a 
 dozen gentlemen in purple and gold standing 
 round, and trying to look equally serious and 
 interested. The young Marquis had left the 
 room as soon as he had ascertained that the 
 patient was in no immediate danger, and had 
 hastened to acquaint his family with the real 
 circumstances of an incident that had already 
 reached their ears in a distorted form. He 
 told the wondering group the whole truth, not 
 in the slightest degree attempting to conceal 
 the fact that the poor boy's hapless state had 
 been caused by his wanton folly. Much to his 
 satisfaction, no objection was made to his 
 lodging his unfortunate protege in the Castle. 
 Indeed, the Duke thought it the wisest thing 
 that could be done ; the Duchess acknow- 
 ledged that the boy ought, under the circum- 
 stances, to receive the greatest care and atten- 
 tion; and Lady Hillsberry, who was two years 
 older than the Marquis, was delighted at her 
 brother's humanity, and vowed she was ready to
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 23 
 
 perform the duty of nurse, if she could do the 
 poor fellow any good. 
 
 Very trivial things have often produced the 
 most important results. It was so in this case 
 most prominently. The pea that struck the 
 ear of old Dobbin was of vast consequence to 
 the fortunes of John Snobson. Not only 
 did it cause him to spend his holidays sur- 
 rounded by comforts, and in the enjoyment of 
 gratifications he had never before dreamt of, 
 but when he recovered from the rough treat- 
 ment he had received, it was the means by 
 which his father acquired a sufficient sum to 
 apprentice him to a mercer in a large way of 
 business, in Diddleton, the county town, and 
 thus enabled him to put his foot on the first 
 spoke of the ladder of commercial greatness.
 
 24 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE TWO MEN. 
 
 Who shall estimate the value of wealth in this 
 money-grasping, money-worshipping country? 
 For the least portion of its absolute worth is the 
 sum total it represents. It comprises position, 
 influence, character, talent, and all the cardinal 
 virtues. The strongest prejudices bow down 
 before it; the highest honours weighed against 
 it are as a feather in the scale; the sanctity of 
 the saints and the wisdom of the philosophers 
 are the merest moonshine compared with its 
 solid virtue and profound sagacity. 
 
 Of what use are the multitudinous preachings
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 25 
 
 of the various professors of Christianity, that 
 have continued from time immemorial in- 
 veighing against the power of this great agent of 
 the Evil One — this " filthy lucre," this " sordid 
 dross," this " base and miserable scum" ? — of 
 what profit has it been to quote the examples 
 of the Saviour and his Apostles, and the words 
 of the Prophets of the Old Religion and the 
 Fathers of the New? Thousands of places of 
 worship are filled on the Sabbath — the text is 
 listened to, the discourse approved of; and on 
 the Monday morning each congregation begins 
 the selfish, grasping, deluding, over-reaching, 
 course which is to end only at the commence- 
 ment of the next Sabbath, when the money- 
 worshipping Christians go through, wdth the 
 same edifying demeanour, the farce of listening 
 attentively to an exposition of their creed which 
 they abjure every working day of their lives. 
 
 The earnest pursuit of wealth is antagonistic 
 to the principle of Christianit}^, and I should 
 as soon think of finding fire combining with 
 
 VOL. I, C
 
 26 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 ice, as the love of gold with the self-denying 
 morality of the Gospel. Nevertheless, the 
 money-getting Christian would fancy himself 
 monstrously wronged, should any one presume 
 to call him the hypocrite he is. He has been so 
 much in the habit of looking upon his most 
 questionable transactions, not only as justifiable, 
 but as matters of course, that it is almost im- 
 possible to make him understand that his enter- 
 prise is covetousness ; his industry, greed ; and 
 his dexterity — picking the pocket of his neigh- 
 bour to fill his own. 
 
 The ruling passion of a commercial com- 
 munity is to acquire riches ; and so general is 
 the competition in business, and so eager the 
 chase after fortune, that it cannot be otherwise 
 than that the restraints of a Christian code of 
 morals should be easily thrown off, and an all- 
 pervading selfishness be substituted for that 
 comprehensive philanthropy which has been 
 taught us by so many great examples. Hence 
 the worship of the Universal Benevolence has
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 27 
 
 become almost a dead letter, and the worship 
 of the Golden Calf is the fashionable religion. 
 
 I cannot deny that important benefits have 
 been rendered to humanity by rich men, and 
 that much practical good is effected by them at 
 the present hour ; the advantage, however, thus 
 derived, bears but a small proportion to the 
 mischief. Much, too, is done in the name of 
 Charity which might be put to the account of 
 her step-mother, Ostentation ; but the source 
 of the evil which vitiates a whole community, 
 which renders the mass of society sordid, frau- 
 dulent, and corrupt, mean, false, and grovel- 
 ling, is too conspicuous to escape the eye of the 
 observer. A social reform might bring us to a 
 more healthy state, but where shall we look for 
 the physician to cure us of so desperate a 
 leprosy ? 
 
 It has been said by an able anatomist, that 
 
 we never give our organization a thought till 
 
 some portion of it gets out of order. We hardl}^ 
 
 know that we have muscles till they are 
 
 c 2
 
 28 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 wounded ; or bones, till they are fractured ; or 
 nerves, till, from some cause or other, they 
 ache ; and then we begin to appreciate the 
 wonders of our being, and are sensible of their 
 use and abuse. 
 
 What is true of the body is equally true of 
 the soul ; we remain ignorant of its condition, 
 operations, and attributes, till it suffers some 
 sensible injury. In this way we have been 
 rather roughly brought to a sense of what we 
 are ; and the sordid nature thus revealed to us 
 is not likely to add very greatly to our self-love. 
 But the spectacle is not without its lesson. It 
 is to be hoped we may be the better for it. 
 
 The son of the overlooker at Pipkin and 
 Co.'s mill was early impressed with the con- 
 viction that money was the all-in-all, and his 
 mind was filled with an inordinate longing for 
 even the smallest fragments of it that could be 
 brought within his reach. At school he had 
 shown wonderful ingenuity in multiplying such 
 small funds as he brought with him — and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 29 
 
 small, indeed, they were. He lent out half- 
 pence, on a full understanding that in the fol- 
 lowing month they were to become pence ; 
 made well-timed investments in apples and 
 toiFy, that brought him a handsome dividend 
 at every distribution of the weekly pocket- 
 money; and was even known to effect loans at 
 an interest seldom less than fifty per cent., on 
 the security of cricket-bats, pocket-knives, and 
 Robinson Crusoes, which he sold for his own 
 benefit, at a still larger profit, as soon as the 
 borrowers failed to redeem their pledges. 
 
 John Snobson's advances in religious know- 
 ledge did not by any means keep pace with his 
 advances in the knowledge of his own interests ; 
 and, with the exception of showing a remarkable 
 facility in calculation, his progress in learning 
 was not considered remarkable. He w^as not 
 stupid, he learnt what he was taught, but it did 
 not strike either of the masters at Bower House 
 Academy that he would confer the slightest 
 credit on the school. 
 
 The boy finished his education under very
 
 30 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 different auspices. He had hardly entered 
 upon his apprenticeship, when he commenced 
 a course of instruction that was not the less 
 quickly imbibed on account of its having been 
 acquired without a master. What he learnt 
 was entirely the result of his own observation ; 
 and his sharpsightedness was only exceeded by 
 his acquisitiveness. 
 
 In the mercer's establishment at Diddleton 
 he continued, on a larger scale, the business he 
 had carried on so prosperously at the Yorkshire 
 Commercial Academy. He bought and sold, 
 and made loans to his fellow-apprentices, in- 
 deed, to all from whom he could secure a profit, 
 very much in the style of a merchant and 
 pawnbroker ; and being always ready to take 
 an advantage, but to confer none, it may easily 
 be imagined that his funds increased as fast as 
 a pretty exorbitant interest would allow, in so 
 short a period. 
 
 As he obtained a greater knowledge of the 
 resources of his position, he took care to de-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 31 
 
 velope them to their fullest extent. It is impos- 
 sible to convey an adequate idea of the many 
 irons he had in the fire. Notwithstanding their 
 number, he never burnt his fingers; which 
 proves that he had a very handy way with him 
 in managing things, however awkward or dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 When he had served out his time, Messrs. 
 Saxony and Kerseymere, his masters, took him 
 into their employment as an assistant. They 
 were well aware that John Snobson was very 
 steady and attentive to business, and his appear- 
 ance, though not exactly attractive, and anything 
 but genteel, was very well calculated for such a 
 shop as theirs — the tradesmen of a provincial 
 town not insisting upon having their customers 
 served by grenadiers in white neckcloths, with 
 pink and white complexions, and remarkably 
 fine heads of hair. 
 
 Messrs. Saxony and Kerseymere's new assis- 
 tant could boast of nothing of the kind. He 
 was not above the ordinary height, and his form
 
 32 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 had no more pretensions to grace than his 
 features to beauty: in short, it was evident 
 that nature had intended him for a man of busi- 
 ness, not for a man of fashion: and in his dress 
 he assisted the intentions of nature as much as 
 he could ; for nothing could be more unfashion- 
 able than the cheap hat, the brown coat, the 
 dark blue waistcoat, the tweed trowsers, the 
 black gaiters, and the broad-toed shoes with 
 which young Snobson, even on Sundays, adorned 
 his outward man. 
 
 But these business-like externals recom- 
 mended him to his employers. Probably they 
 were not aware how far his habits of business 
 extended. The evening hours that were allowed 
 him after the shop was closed, for his own re- 
 creation, he devoted to keeping the books of 
 small tradesmen in the town, who had never 
 had the good fortune to be initiated into the 
 mysteries of double and single entry: and he 
 extended his system of money-lending by dis- 
 counting bills wherever the thing was safe, and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 66 
 
 the discount sufficiently tempting. His specu- 
 lating mind, however, soon soared beyond this : 
 for with the assistance of two or three rising 
 tradesmen of his acquaintance, who wanted to 
 get on a little faster than the legitimate profits 
 of trade would allow, he set on foot one of those 
 snares to the necessitous, a loan society, of 
 which he began with being secretary at a small 
 salary, and ended by being treasurer and 
 director, with the greater portion of the profits. 
 In this way he went on for another seven 
 years, entirely to the satisfaction of his em- 
 ployers : till one of those worthy men heard that 
 a very stylish shop was in preparation for open- 
 ing in their own business, in a commanding 
 position at the corner of High Street and 
 London Street, Diddleton, a very few doors only 
 from their own estabhshment. There was a 
 consultation between the partners at this unex- 
 pected o])position, but though they made every 
 pobbible exertion in the way of inquiry^ they 
 could not make out who was to be their rival 
 c 3
 
 34 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 John Snobson, too, had given them notice 
 that he was about to leave his employment, 
 which the firm rather regretted, as he had a 
 thorough knowledge of the business, and was 
 very useful. They called him into the counting 
 house, and addressed him in their most condes- 
 cending manner, intimating that if his salary 
 was not sufficient, they were willing to meet his 
 views as far as was reasonable. John Snobson 
 thanked Messrs. Saxony and Kerseymere in the 
 most humble terms — indeed, his humihty had 
 always been an inappreciable virtue in the eyes 
 of his employers — but stated that he was de- 
 sirous of change, and entertained an ambition of 
 improving his position. The firm ventured to 
 express a hope that he was not going to take 
 service with the unknown rival with whom they 
 were threatened — intimating their opinion that 
 such conduct would be base in the extreme. The 
 humble John Snobson relieved their minds on 
 this score^ by assuring them that he had no inten- 
 tion of being an assistant to any one in the town.
 
 THE GOLBEN CALF. 35 
 
 They did not think it necessary to pursue 
 their inquiries further, and at the end of the 
 month, Messrs. Saxony and Kerseymere, and 
 their dihgent assistant, parted with mutual ex- 
 pressions of good will. On the following day 
 the new shop opened with a first-rate stock of 
 goods ; and over the door, in large characters, 
 appeared the name and trade of its proprietor. 
 
 JOHN SNOBSON, MERCEK, 
 Fro)n Saxony and Kerseymeres, 
 
 Great was the astonishment, the indignation, 
 and the disgust of the old established firm a few 
 doors off. Neither of the partners could under- 
 stand where " that infernal rascal Snobson" had 
 picked up the funds necessary for effecting this 
 ungrateful, this unparalleled, this audacious 
 proceeding ; but, as Saxony was always absorbed 
 in directing the transactions of the firm, and 
 Kerseymere was always travelling for orders^
 
 36 THE GOLDEN CALf. 
 
 they had no means of learning the various busi- 
 ness-hke ways of their favourite assistant. 
 
 They were persuaded that he was quite safe 
 in their estabUshment, as he had no friends in 
 a position to advance him capital to open a shop 
 even with the smallest attempt at trade. They 
 overlooked one friend, which was himself. They 
 knew not the bitter lessons of privation he had 
 learnt in his childhood — that had given such an 
 amazing impulse to the acquisitiveness of the 
 man. 
 
 Unfortunately for them, there was a great deal 
 more they did not know — in the first place, they 
 were ignorant of his intimate knowledge of their 
 best customers, and were only enlightened 
 when they found that these persons had ceased 
 to deal at their house, and were sending large 
 orders to " that rascal, Snobson." 
 
 But, it may be asked, while the boy was thus 
 ascending this somewhat tortuous path to pros- 
 perity at Diddlctun, how fared it with his iiu- 
 poverished family at Mill-street? Was there
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 3? 
 
 one redeeming virtue against so much selfish- 
 ness ? Did respect for the domestic affections 
 in any way quaUfy his worship of Mammon? 
 I cannot give a satisfactory answer to these 
 questions; for it so happened that the elder 
 Snobson, after providing for his first-born in the 
 manner I have related, chose to apply what re- 
 mained of the munificent donation of the Duke 
 of Axminster to obtain a passage for himself 
 and the remainder of his family to the United 
 States of America, where he soon procured a 
 much better income than he was likely to obtain 
 from Pipkin and Co., had he remained at their 
 celebrated mill for the remainder of his labo- 
 rious life. 
 
 He sometimes wrote to his son intelligence of 
 his own improved position, the amended health 
 of his mother, and the comfortable prospects of 
 his brothers and sisters ; but, as a true chronicler, 
 I am bound to say, that no evidence exists of 
 young Snobson having felt any lively interest 
 for his relatives.
 
 38 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 At first he gave short, business-like replies at 
 long intervals; but, as his character more deve- 
 loped itself, he became too much a man of busi- 
 ness to find time even for these. He saw there 
 vras nothing to be gained by such communica- 
 tions, or, to use his favourite expression, that 
 " it did not pay," and they might lead him into 
 some trouble, and probably some expense; so 
 before he had served out his apprenticeship, he 
 dropped his family; and now that he was in 
 business for himself, and was treasurer of half-a- 
 dozen money-making societies, and a member 
 of the Town Council, the idea of troubling him- 
 self about such trifles as his father's earning so 
 many additional dollars, his mother's opening a 
 haberdashery store assisted by her daughters, 
 and his brothers getting certain small employ- 
 ments in different cities of the States, could not 
 be entertained for a moment. He was very 
 glad they did not want assistance from him — 
 but that was all the pleasure, as far as they were 
 concerned, he was likely to feel.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. ' 39 
 
 In the meantime, the career of the other boy 
 went on as regularly, but in an exactly contrary 
 course. The Marquis of Hillsberry went from 
 Harrow to Oxford, and from Oxford to Italy, 
 with the usual results of comets of his magni- 
 tude — a long train of pecuniary obligations. 
 His father having died nearly a couple of years 
 before he had completed his majority, there 
 seemed no limit to his extravagance, except in 
 the resources of those persons who so liberally 
 supplied his wants. 
 
 Whilst abroad, the glorious museums and noble 
 galleries of art, which he visited, inspired him 
 with a desire to become a patron and connois- 
 seur, and this feeling was fostered to a very 
 great extent by the artists, professors, antiqua- 
 ries, and even men of rank, who fell in his way. 
 It was extraordinary the chefs-d'oeuvres of the 
 old masters, the unique bronzes, the unrivalled 
 sculpture, the rare medals and coins, the choice 
 enamels, the curious pottery, the exquisite 
 Raffaelle ware, the beautiful Sevres, the wonder-
 
 40 'The golden calf. 
 
 ful gems, and the matchless volumes, that they 
 assured him might be purchased at sums infi- 
 nitely short of their value. They were pur- 
 chased, and at an outlay so enormous, that the 
 young Duke of Axminster acquired the reputa- 
 tion of being the most liberal patron of art, and 
 the most enlightened connoisseur that had been 
 seen in Italy, since collecting had become a 
 resource of wealthy Englishmen, and " touting" 
 in art, the resource of impoverished Italians. 
 
 The Duke's taste travelled before him, and 
 so did the reputation of his wealth. This his 
 Grace discovered whilst extending his tour to 
 Germany; for in certain baths of a certain 
 Grand Duke, of a certain little state in great 
 vogue with certain fashionable tourists, he fell 
 in with some very distinguished company, who 
 plundered him at the gaming-table, quite as 
 effectually as his dilettanti friends had done 
 under the pretence of helping him to form a 
 collection. Then there was a pretty danseube 
 at Milan, and an exquisite cantatrice at Naples,
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 41 
 
 that became very dear to him in more senses 
 than one. 
 
 The game went on with increased animation 
 after he came of age, and had taken his seat in 
 the House of Lords; for it is wonderful how 
 many highways and byways there are leading 
 into the Road to Ruin, in this good and moral 
 country. There was Mademoiselle Aplomb in 
 the Regent's Park, and Signora Dolcevoce at 
 Bayswater ; Mrs. Grandville at Richmond Ter- 
 race, and Mrs. Vernon ^Tolmache at the little 
 villa near Brighton : besides fallen angels of less 
 note, who aspired, however, to be equally extra- 
 vagant and exacting. 
 
 Then there was the large town establishment 
 where his Grace lived in almost regal splen- 
 dour, and entertained his friends with banquets 
 such as the most curious in gastronomy had 
 never met with elsewhere ; retaining a French 
 cook, drawn by the tempting offer of a thousand 
 a year, and a box at the Opera, from an impe- 
 rial palace, and other luxuries at the same com-
 
 42 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 parative cost ; nevertheless, this mansion rival- 
 ling the splendour of royalty in its decorations, 
 and the resources of a Lucullus in its enjoy- 
 ments, was often neglected for the more exciting 
 gratifications of a St. James' club-house, the chief 
 merit of the latter establishment consisting in 
 the facility with which it was always contrived 
 for him that he should part with the thousands 
 he evidently had so little desire to retain. 
 
 Then he was continually the prey of a horde 
 of those human horse-leeches, known as vir- 
 tuosos, or dealers in articles of vertu, who could 
 furnish him with everything he chose to desire 
 in that way, from diamond shirt-buttons to a 
 master-piece of Benvenuto Cellini. From this 
 source all the most ornamental furniture of the 
 Duke of Axminster's various mansions were 
 derived, and if great names could give them a 
 value, his Grace surely had enough for his 
 money, for he possessed cabinets of Marie 
 Antoinette, epergnes of the Emperor Napoleon, 
 foot-stools of Queen Elizabeth, tables of Leo
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 43 
 
 the Tenth, chairs of Madame de Pompadour, 
 swords of Frederic the Great, mirrors of Ninon 
 de I'Enclos, carpets of the Grand Signor, cur- 
 tains of the Doge Foscari, toilet-services of 
 Mary Stuart, dinner-services of Lorenzo de 
 Medici, drinking-cups of Cardinal Wolsey, 
 walking-canes of Sir Walter Raleigh, snuff- 
 boxes of Queen Anne, miniatures of Charles 
 the Second ; and pretty trumpery of everybody 
 of note, from the Queen of Sheba, the favourite 
 of King Solomon, down to Madame du Deffand, 
 the friend of Horace Walpole. 
 
 From all this it will not be difficult for the 
 reader to understand, that at thirty, Arthur 
 Francis Plantagenet Tudor, Duke of Axminster, 
 Marquis of Hillsberry, Earl of Kilcollan, in the 
 Kingdom of Ireland, Vicount Lochnagarry in 
 that of Scotland, and Baron Strongitharm of 
 Hastings, in the County of Sussex — the last a 
 creation that dated with the Conquest — was 
 going as rapidly down hill as John Snobson, 
 Mercer, of Diddleton, was ascending it.
 
 44 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TWO FATHERS. 
 
 John Snobson proceeded on his course. He 
 proved a very formidable rival to his former 
 masters. Indeed, in a few short years, Messrs. 
 Saxony and Kerseymere, notwithstanding their 
 animadversions, " not loud, but deep," when 
 the name of their neighbour happened to be 
 mentioned, in their hearing, found themselves 
 losing their long-established position, of being 
 the first in the trade at Diddleton ; and at last, 
 got so far in the rear as scarcely to be con- 
 sidered, in sporting phraseology, " a good 
 second."
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 45 
 
 John Snobson ^vas the leading mercer; but 
 he was a good deal more than this; for his 
 ostensible business, as has been already inti- 
 mated, formed but an inconsiderable portion of 
 his ways and means. He had given up the 
 loan society ; for, in the first place, it was not 
 thought sufficientl}^ respectable now ; and, in 
 the second, it was not thought sufficiently pro- 
 fitable. He had also resigned the treasurership 
 of a building-club, although it had brought him 
 very pretty pickings ; and had left off pur- 
 chasing ground-rents, notwithstanding that they 
 had furnished him with some excellent bar- 
 gains. 
 
 He discovered that such things not only took 
 up a great deal of time, but were much too 
 slow in their return of profit to satisfy a spirit 
 whose speculations every day became more bold 
 and comprehensive. He aimed now at much 
 higher game. He was a partner in the bank, 
 possessed shares in the canal, in the water- 
 works, and in the gas companies ; advanced
 
 46 THE GOLDEN CAI.F. 
 
 money on mortgages, and discounted good bills 
 for considerable amounts, when there was suf- 
 ficient available security. In every way he 
 made money, and made it, too, with a rapidity, 
 it was thought, that ought to satisfy the most 
 rapacious. 
 
 His reputation as a monied man was gra- 
 dually extending, and despite the jealousy and 
 ill-will of his neighbours in the same business, 
 it procured him increased influence with his 
 fellow-citizens. His name began to figure in 
 the committees of several important public com- 
 panies; and in one or two instances he was 
 called upon to fill the posts of chairman or 
 treasurer. He managed to impress on every 
 one with whom he came in contact, a firm con- 
 viction of his great resources, and his vast 
 talents for business; there was, therefore, no- 
 thing surprising in his being chosen an alder- 
 man of the wealthy corporation of Diddleton. 
 
 It was about this period that Alderman 
 Snobson sought out an investment differing;, in
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 47 
 
 many respects, from those in which he had 
 hitherto embarked his capital : this was a wife. 
 He had deferred trusting any portion of his 
 fortunes in such a channel, from certain pru- 
 dential reasons, that carried great weight with 
 him. Had he married earlier, a wife might, to 
 a considerable extent, have taken off his atten- 
 tion from his speculations, and have burthened 
 him with children, which must have proved a 
 still further drawback upon his gains. Then 
 again, with the position he had achieved, he 
 possessed advantages in the way of selecting a 
 suitable partner, which could not have been his 
 at an earlier period of his life. He therefore 
 felt himself justified in making a matrimonial 
 speculation, which it is easy to believe he set 
 about with exactly the same principles that 
 directed him to speculate in any other direc- 
 tion. They took the form of an intention to 
 make it pay. 
 
 Snobson ascertained that there was a w^idow 
 without children, at the desirable age of forty.
 
 48 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 plump, comfortable, and, to a certain extent, 
 respectable in her appearance ; whose husband, 
 a late brother alderman, who had been the 
 greatest brewer in Diddleton, had left her, it 
 was reported, a prodigious fortune. This was 
 very promising intelligence ; but it was not suf- 
 ficiently definite for the intended Benedict. 
 What was left in obscurity he soon took means 
 to clear up. He first procured a copy of the 
 will of the lady's late husband, and then ascer- 
 tained that all the property mentioned in it was 
 still in existence, and that she was its sole and 
 uncontrolled mistress. Finding this investiga- 
 tion satisfactory, he then transferred his re- 
 searches to the lady, and assured himself that 
 she was not objectionable, and might answer 
 his purpose as an investment extremely well. 
 
 He therefore made his approaches. It so 
 happened that the widow of the brewer was 
 as much a woman of business as her present 
 suitor was a man of business ; indeed, she came 
 of a remarkably business-like family. Mrs.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF, 49 
 
 Stingo soon ascertained the direction of Alder- 
 man Snobson's approaches. Nor was she alto- 
 gether indifferent to them. The Alderman's 
 resources were well known to her, and should 
 she be at all inclined to change her condition, 
 there could be no question that he would form 
 an unexceptionable parti. Still, she knew the 
 full value of her own independence, and was 
 not disposed to part with the smallest portion 
 of her authority over her own funds. 
 
 On discovering this, the Alderman affected 
 unwonted liberality ; nevertheless, he ma- 
 noeuvred, with a good deal of skill, to get Mrs. 
 Stingo's property into his own hands. This 
 was evaded with equal judgment; and when 
 the preliminary arrangements for their union 
 were brought to a close. Alderman Snobson was 
 obliged to be contented with an apparently 
 hopeless contingency, in the shape of a settle- 
 ment of the lady's fortune on any children that 
 might be the fruit of the proposed union. 
 
 They were married, and they lived generally 
 
 VOL. L D
 
 50 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 at the residence of the bride — Stingo House — 
 a very comfortable brick mansion built by the 
 deceased brewer, about a mile out of the town. 
 Though Alderman Snobson was obliged to live 
 at a great deal more expense, he was fully 
 assured " the thing would pay ;" for as it was 
 believed he was in possession of the wealth of 
 the rich widow, his influence had increased to a 
 considerable extent. Nor was it less conducive 
 to the consequence of his partner ; for, as the 
 wife of so active a man of business as Alder- 
 man Snobson, she might look for a degree of 
 distinction in their mercantile city, which she 
 could never hope to attain whilst she remained 
 known only as the relict of the defunct brewer. 
 In short, it was just that sort of marriage that 
 would satisfy two sedate speculators of the two 
 sexes, who had outlived their romance if they 
 ever had any, and had not an atom of senti- 
 ment in their composition, had they known how 
 to use it. 
 
 An event happened, which, singular to relate.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 51 
 
 had never entered into the calculations of this 
 calculating couple. Mrs. Snobson became in 
 that state which the married lady cannot always 
 escape, however anxious she may be to preserve 
 her shape, and avoid trouble. The discovery 
 created quite a sensation at Stingo House. The 
 good lady was, it must be confessed, a Httle in- 
 dignant — she was half inclined to look upon the 
 affair as an imposition, and fancy herself over- 
 reached in the bargain she had completed with 
 so much caution. Here was a responsibility 
 she could not have counted upon! She pro- 
 nounced it shameful, and abominable, and at 
 first w^anted to consult her lawyer on the subject 
 of taking legal measures to put a stop to it; but 
 her female friends advised her to a different 
 course, and instead of filing a bill in Chancer}', 
 or seeking for an injunction in the hope of 
 terminating the evil at once, she allowed it to 
 take its natural course, and sought the assist- 
 ance only of a physician and a nurse. 
 
 In due course the Diddleton paper an- 
 d2 
 
 ^psiTv OF lamQ-.
 
 52 ' THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 nounced, at the head of the Births, " On the 
 10th instant, the lady of Alderman Snobson, of 
 a daughter;" and to the inquiries of numerous 
 friends, the bulletin issued was, that both mother 
 and child were doing as well as could be ex- 
 pected under the circumstances. These cir- 
 cumstances proved a great trial to Mrs. Snobson, 
 who endeavoured to obtain s^mipathy by re- 
 peatedly declaring to her attendants, that it 
 was really what she was not used to — she 
 could never have expected it — she was not 
 compelled to do anything of the kind in the 
 time of poor dear Mr. Stingo ; and many other 
 remarks equally edifying. 
 
 For all her impatience under the affliction, 
 the good lady would not abate a jot of her 
 dignity, or curtail the usual honours given to 
 mothers who can afford to be particularly 
 genteel. All the ceremonies proper to the 
 first month were performed with the greatest 
 possible state: the decorations and dresses of 
 this imposing spectacle were particularly grand 
 and elegant; and the christening was pro-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 53 
 
 nounccd to be the handsomest thing of the 
 sort that had ever been beheld in the ancient 
 and commercial city of Diddleton. 
 
 Under such auspices Jane Snobson — who 
 was named after her mother — entered the 
 world; and, according to the best female 
 authorities in the city of her birth, there had 
 been very few girls who had been born in 
 Diddleton with such excellent prospects. She 
 did not give so very much trouble ; for the fuss 
 which surrounded her during her early child- 
 hood, was created by the mother rather than 
 the daughter. The former, of course, could 
 not think of fulfilling the obligations of her 
 title; but though the maternal nourishment was 
 taken by the infant from a stranger and a 
 hireling, to whose care it had been consigned, 
 Mrs. Snobson put herself to quite as much 
 labour, in pretending a proper regard for her 
 responsibilities, as she would have had to 
 endure had she acted as a mother instead of 
 talking as one. 
 
 The Alderman took thiy ac(piisition with
 
 54 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 much less astonishment than his partner. His 
 first inquiry to himself, " Would it pay ?" having, 
 after much reflection and calculation, been 
 answered in the affirmative, he gave himself 
 but little further concern on the subject. By 
 what process he had arrived at the conclusion 
 he had adopted, cannot now be known ; but his 
 sagacity in business was too firmly established 
 to doubt that he knew perfectly well the use 
 that might be made even of so novel an invest- 
 ment. 
 
 In the meantime, the Duke of Axminster had 
 been going downhill at such a rate, that he 
 came to the conviction, as he expressed it, that 
 a skid, in the shape of a wife, was absolutely 
 necessary to check his descent. Having come 
 to this conviction, there existed no difficulty in 
 the way of his acting upon it ; for ever since he 
 had come to a marriageable state, he had been 
 regarded as a grand prize in the matrimonial 
 lottery. There were very few mammas in the 
 world in which he moved, who were likely to
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 55 
 
 undervalue the attractions of his title, and, to 
 do the dear creatures justice, the daughters in- 
 different to it were equally limited in number. 
 
 Wherever he went, at balls, concerts, soirees, 
 he was sure to be the observed of all the most 
 charming observers. All kinds of entertain- 
 ments were got up expressly for him by the 
 most liberal of papas; and thes dansantes and 
 fetes champetres were arranged purely for his 
 amusement, by the most agreeable of mammas; 
 while at the opera, in the park, or at Almack's, 
 if he did not meet with at least a dozen young 
 ladies equally as obliging, good-natured, and 
 kind as their parents, he must have been sin- 
 gularly unfortunate. 
 
 It so happened that he was not to be capti- 
 vated by beauty, or impressed by kindness. 
 How much of this insensibility was owing to 
 his different ties in the neighbourhood of the 
 Regent's Park, Bayswater, Richmond, and 
 Brighton, it is impossible to say; but it is 
 believed that they had something to do with it.
 
 56 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 In course of time, however, Mademoiselle 
 Aplomb accepted an advantageous engagement 
 at St. Petersburg, to which capital she contrived 
 to travel under the escort of a Russian prince. 
 Signora Dolcevoce protested that the air of 
 England was too severe for her delicate 
 organization, and though it broke her heart to 
 part with his Grace, her physician had ordered 
 a change of climate, and his dictum was 
 imperative. It appeared as if he had also 
 ordered a change of society, for, after a short 
 sojourn in Paris, the popular cantatrice started 
 for Milan, in the suite of the French em- 
 bassador, and was for the season the great 
 attraction of " La Scala." 
 
 Mrs. Grandville had two powerful reasons 
 against leaving the Duke — her large family and 
 her large allowance. She had been a chorus- 
 singer at one of the theatres, and was the 
 daughter of an actor of small celebrity, who 
 made not the most remote objection to her 
 abandoning her profession, and assuming a ficti-
 
 tiil: golden calf. 57 
 
 tious name, when his Grace offered him, through 
 their mutual friend Captain Pogswell, a small 
 annuity, and his daughter a handsome settle- 
 ment whilst she remained under his protection. 
 Mrs. Grandville was delicate and lady-like, and 
 might have continued to live in splendour, had 
 she not unwisely affected to be extremely senti- 
 mental, and been careless in bringing up her 
 children. One or two " scenes" had already 
 disturbed the Duke's equanimity; but it en- 
 tirely vanished when Master Plantagenet Grand- 
 ville, having been brought forward to kiss 
 his papa, gave him a smart blow on the face 
 instead. This occasioned another scene of a 
 rather disagreeable nature, and the next day 
 Captain Pogswell called to inform tlie lady that 
 she must for the future be satisfied \^th a more 
 moderate income, as the Duke did not intend 
 to see her again. He had amply provided fur 
 the children. 
 
 Mrs. Vernon Foljambe was a very styhsli 
 person, and boasted of hating been a lady boni 
 d3
 
 68 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and bred. Indeed, she was a divorced wife of 
 a gentleman of fortune, who had obtained from 
 the Duke of Axminster a handsome sum in the 
 shape of damages, awarded in the Court of 
 Queen*s Bench, as compensation for the loss of 
 his frail partner. She at first entertained the 
 hope that her dishonour might be hid under a 
 ducal coronet; but this, eventually, she was 
 obliged to abandon. The Duke considered 
 that, as it was, he had paid dearly enough for 
 his whistle. Indeed, he had no more idea of 
 marrying her than of marrying the Pope. Mrs. 
 Vernon Foljambe therefore tried to reconcile 
 herself to her pretty little villa, and the visits, 
 now and then, of her noble protector. She 
 strove hard to amuse him — she never suffered 
 herself to seem too dispirited by his absence, or 
 too elated by his presence — appeared to take 
 everything as a matter of course, and to live for 
 no other object than his happiness. There 
 were no unruly children in his way, for she had 
 none, and she would* as soon have thought of
 
 TUE GOLDEN CALF. 59 
 
 shedding a tooth in his presence as a tear. In 
 fact, come when he would, she was all sun- 
 shine and gaiety. 
 
 The Duke affected to be pleased, but the 
 pleasure was very transient — it lasted only 
 whilst he remained within the walls of the 
 little villa. He was soon bored with women, 
 and Mrs. Vernon Foljambe's eternal sunshine 
 in time grew as unendurable as Mrs. Grand- 
 ville's eternal soitow. 
 
 One fine day, that very useful person in all 
 the Duke's disagreeable affairs — Captain Pogs- 
 well — arrived at the villa, and acquainted its 
 fair occupant that his Grace had made certain 
 arrangements which would prevent his having 
 the pleasure of seeing her again. Mrs. Vernon 
 Foljambe could scarcely make up her mind 
 whether to be in a rage or in hysterics; but 
 when she found that she was to be left in pos- 
 session of the villa, with an annuity sufficient to 
 maintain a respectable appearance, she smiled 
 on the Captain quite as sunnily as she had
 
 60 THE GOtDEN CALF. 
 
 smiled on the Duke. In short, before that 
 useful officer left her residence, her hospitality 
 and her good humour had produced such an 
 effect upon him, that he felt inclined to consider 
 the advantage, if not the propriety, of legally 
 making the fair annuitant and the pretty villa 
 his own. 
 
 The Duke of Axminster now entertained 
 serious thoughts of settling his affairs by settling 
 himself He made up his mind to marry, and 
 acquainted one of the most intimate of his 
 female acquaintances — Lady Flora Macdonald, 
 the eldest daughter of a Scottish Marquis, of his 
 intention. She entertained no objections what- 
 ever to her friend's taking such a step ; nor did 
 she express any dissent when told that her 
 friend had selected her for its object. The 
 affair was soon in train — the "forthcoming 
 marriage in high life," announced in the 
 "Morning Post" in ap))ropriate phrase — the 
 proper scttiemeiits were made — the most costly 
 trousseau provided: the Duke of Wellington
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 61 
 
 gave away the bride, and Gunter furnished the 
 wedding breakfast. 
 
 The Duke of Axminster proved a highly 
 respectable husband during the whole period of 
 the honeymoon, and for some months after- 
 wards. He even appeared to entertain thoughts 
 of improving his patrimony, or, more properly 
 speaking, of increasing it. His estates might 
 have been thought sufficiently large, even for a 
 Duke, but the Duke of Axminster was of a 
 different opinion. He gave the full value for 
 any " desirable property" that lay near either of 
 his English or Scottish estates; and as his own 
 funds were not available for the purpose, he 
 borrowed large sums, at ten per cent., to obtain 
 an investment which would only pay two. He 
 for some years past had had recourse to mort- 
 gages, and since his marriage required them 
 more than ever, for this event had necessitated 
 .additional expenses to a very considerable 
 extent. 
 
 It was necessary to have new furniture, new
 
 62 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 horses, new carriages, new pictures, new objects 
 of virtUy new jewellery, new plate, new books, 
 new servants, and many other novelties equally 
 expensive. Improvements were required in 
 both his town and country mansions ; and Mr. 
 Barry could not be expected to design them 
 without the usual "per centage" allowed to 
 architects, which proved an allowance ample 
 enough to have furnished labour and materials 
 for a new mansion. 
 
 The Duke, too, although he was now a 
 married man, kept up some of the most ex- 
 pensive of his bachelor gratifications. The 
 chief of these was his club in St. James's-street, 
 the high play of which continued to make 
 serious inroads into the produce of his mort- 
 gages. His training establishment was another 
 whirlpool that sucked in his once fine fortune. 
 Occasionally, out of his numerous stud, one 
 horse would contrive to win; but as subse- 
 quently at least ten lost, and as by some fatality 
 his Grace managed to make a very bad book,
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 63 
 
 the year's racing invariably formed a heavy item 
 in the year's losses. 
 
 Nevertheless, the Duke of Axminster went 
 on, to all outward appearance, as though he was 
 the richest duke in the peerage, instead of the 
 poorest. No one but those whose business it 
 was to know such things, could be aware that 
 he was hopelessly involved ; and that, notwith- 
 standing his extensive landed possessions, his 
 numerous works of art, and his valuable collec- 
 tions of historical curiosities, his Grace owned 
 nothing he could justly call his own. 
 
 It was under such deplorable circumstances 
 that his lady fulfilled the highest of her obliga- 
 tions as Duchess of Axminster, by presenting 
 her lord with an heir to all the honours and all 
 the debts of his ancient house. This event was 
 received by him with more satisfaction than 
 could have been expected from any parent so 
 dreadfully embarrassed. It seemed to be an 
 excuse for incurring fresh obligations. How he 
 contrived to obtain further loans was a mystery^
 
 64 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and I suppose must so remain. Wonderful, 
 however, is the facility in this country for great 
 men running into debt. Tradespeople fur- 
 nished their goods at a prodigious profit, it is 
 true, but with almost unlimited credit; and 
 money-lenders, though they sometimes made a 
 portion of the assistance proffered at so usu- 
 rious an interest take the shape of butts of 
 undrinkable sherry, or a dozen or so of spurious 
 old masters, were equally obliging in the promp- 
 titude with which they produced the required 
 loan. 
 
 The infant Marquis of Hillsberry appeared 
 to be everything that his parents could desire. 
 He had every indulgence befitting his rank, 
 and, before he was two years old, obtained a 
 sister as a companion. He figured, with his 
 mamma, on the walls of the Royal Academy, 
 in a full-length, from the pencil of Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence ; in which it was difficult to decide 
 which was the most admirable, the beauty of 
 the mother or that of the child. The papers
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 65 
 
 were never tired of expatiating on the attrac- 
 tions of the young Marquis ; and many mothers, 
 who were thought to be very handsomely pro- 
 vided with children, envied the Duchess her 
 right and title to " such a love." 
 
 His position was not so enviable as it might 
 have appeared to them. Had not the estates 
 and a considerable portion of the personal pro- 
 perty been strictly entailed, the prospects of the 
 young Marquis would have been bad indeed. 
 As it was, he could only succeed to a patrimony 
 overwhelmed with debt. 
 
 Plain Jane Snobson might look forward to 
 abundance ; the Alderman, her father, was stated 
 to be worth at least half a miUion, which must 
 eventually come to her. The handsome Mar- 
 quis of Hillsberry was far from having such 
 expectations; the liabilities of the Duke his 
 father exceeded the aggregate of the Alder- 
 man's fortune, and this seemed likely to form 
 the bulk of his inheritance. 
 
 Thus far I have traced the courses of the
 
 66 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 two boys who came so singularly in contact in 
 the first chapter of this work, but merely as the 
 prologue to the forthcoming drama. The 
 reader, however, will be so good as to bear in 
 mind the data with which he has been already 
 furnished. They will the better help him to 
 understand that great English mystery — to be 
 developed in the following pages — as the wor- 
 ship of « The Golden Calf."
 
 iJoofe tf)t Secontr, 
 
 RURAL FELICITY.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 69 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ROSE COTTAGE. 
 
 As far removed from the noise and dust esta 
 blished in the neighbourhood of the lords of 
 the machinery, as from the bustle and parade 
 going on in the mansions of the lords of the 
 soil, stood a cottage of the most modest de- 
 scription. Though small and unpretending, it 
 looked extremely pretty, standing as it did, by 
 itself, at the corner of an orchard of about an 
 acre and a half. Opposite, at a short distance, 
 was the road that led to the rustic village of 
 Somcrton Paddocks, whilst at the back was the 
 shady lane, at the end of which was one of tb^
 
 70 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 gates opening upon the extensive park attached 
 to Axminster Castle. 
 
 During the greater portion of the year, the 
 walls of this cottage were almost entirely hid 
 by roses, and the little garden that surrounded 
 the house was a perfect Paradise, — so fine and 
 numerous were the flowers cultivated within 
 its boundaries; in short, it was acknowledged 
 to be one of the most beautiful spots in the 
 neighbourhood, and frequently had loiterers, 
 from both the mechanic and rural population, 
 rested their arms upon the stile that led from 
 the public road across the fields skirting the 
 orchard, and gazed on the charming scene with 
 a hopeless longing to end their weary pilgrimage 
 in just such another Eden. 
 
 The name of the place was Rose Cottage. 
 This was well known, for it had for years been 
 a frequent subject of reference amongst rustic 
 gossips. Even praters of a higher order had 
 condescended to conjecture and wonder and 
 speculate about it; but if no great good had
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 71 
 
 risen from this, it had been attended by no 
 great harm. The most inquisitive, after a 
 world of prying and pumping, knew no more 
 about the pretty cottage than was known to 
 everybody who had stopped to observe the 
 beauty of its clustering roses. Of the inmates, 
 many knew even less than this. 
 
 The best informed spoke of a lady of pre- 
 possessing appearance, and a young girl, very 
 neat, very graceful, and, by general consent, 
 very pretty. Opinions differed as to their re- 
 lationship, — some insisted they were sisters, 
 some, that they were aunt and niece; others 
 were equally satisfied that no kindred whatever 
 existed, and that Mrs. Howard, the elder of the 
 two ladies, who evidently was a decayed gentle- 
 woman, was paid for bringing up some person's 
 child, there were certain reasons for keeping 
 out of the way ; whilst a fourth party, of a 
 more ill-natured bias, as stoutly maintained that 
 the elder lady was no better than she should 
 be, and the younger her own offspring, the
 
 72 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 existence of which had necessitated the strict 
 sechision the mother could easily maintain in 
 such an out-of-the-way spot as Rose Cottage. 
 ' It unfortunately happened for the inquisitive, 
 that the objects of their curiosity went little 
 abroad ; at least they were seldom met with by 
 any of those persons who appeared to be most 
 interested in their proceedings : but this may be 
 accounted for by the studied care with which 
 " the ladies of the cottage," as they w^ere usually 
 called, appeared to avoid the neighbouring 
 villagers in their walks; and their still more 
 evident desire to shun all intercourse with their 
 neighbours, except what was absolutely essen- 
 tial to their well-being. 
 
 To be sure there was old Jacob Muskett who 
 looked after their garden; but he was so very 
 deaf, and appeared so very stupid, that he 
 always would think every one was inquiring 
 about his piccotees and carnations, and shaped 
 his answers accordingly. Then there was their 
 little grand-daughter Effie, who assisted Jacob's
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 73 
 
 wife in the household work ; but though they 
 occasionally fell in company with the most skilful 
 hands in the neisihbourhood for elicitino; in- 
 formation, to their intense disappointment they 
 discovered that the one had nothing to say, and 
 the other w^ould say nothing, about their mis- 
 tresses, however closely they were questioned. 
 
 These repeated rebuffs proved so dishearten- 
 ing, that the people at Rose Cottage were 
 allowed to be as mysterious as they pleased ; 
 exciting no remark except when they appeared 
 at church, which the ladies always did closely 
 veiled, when the quaker-like neatness of their 
 apparel pointed them out as quite distinct 
 from the be-ribboned and be-flounced farmers' 
 wives and manufacturers' daughters who as- 
 sumed to set the fashions in that part of the 
 world. 
 
 There were only two persons belonging to the 
 district who visited them — the one was the Vicar 
 of Somerton Paddocks, formerly the Duke's 
 tutor, and now the Rev. Dr. Beauclerk, D.D,, 
 
 VOL. I. »
 
 74 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 who had been provided for by his pnpil with the 
 first Hving that came into his gift ; and the other 
 was Mr. Possett, the apothecary and surgeon of 
 the same place, who doctored the whole district; 
 but in neither did they find a man likely to 
 gratify idle curiosity. The divinity doctor, it 
 was thought, knew something, but would not 
 tell — the medical doctor asserted that he knew 
 nothing, and therefore could not tell. 
 
 In this way the child had grown up nearly to 
 womanhood, and her elder companion had be- 
 come to all appearance more grave and sedate, 
 and more resembling a quakeress. But what the 
 curious of the neighbouring villages could not 
 achieve, I will at once obtain for the reader — 
 that is, the entree of the cottage, and free access 
 to its mysterious inmates. 
 
 The interior is found to be as attractive as the 
 exterior. The furniture is elegant, far superior 
 to what might be expected from so unpretend- 
 ing a habitation, and there is, moreover, an air 
 of refinement pervading everything, that denotes
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 75 
 
 the presence and superintendence of the most 
 exquisite taste. There is a harp in its case, and 
 a piano open; there is an embroidery frame 
 near the window, with an elaborate and richly 
 coloured subject, half completed; at a table near 
 is a drawing-board, on which is a finished drawl- 
 ing of some flowers still remaining in the vase 
 before it; there is a handsome w^ork-table, and 
 an elegant repository for Berlin wool on the 
 carpet; a rosewood book-case, full of richly 
 bound volumes, rests against the wall, and a 
 Canterbury of maplewood full of music-book?, 
 stands near the piano; there are some prettil}^ 
 framed drawings round the room, and an abund- 
 ance of elegant trifles scattered upon the tables 
 and mantelpiece. 
 
 The garden could be seen through the open 
 window^, where the honeysuckles, convolvuluses, 
 and roses, appeared to be struggling with each 
 other to effect an entrance, making the air 
 heavy with their delicious odours. On the other 
 side, the tall lilies reared their silvery heads 
 E 2
 
 7G THE GOIDEN CALF. 
 
 above the choice heartsease, the rare carnations, 
 the splendid sweet-williams, the magnificent 
 geraniums, and numberless other equall}^ suc- 
 cessful specimens of the skill of old Jacob, who, 
 bent nearly double from the constant habit of 
 stooping, might be seen in the distance trimming 
 some noble tree-rose, or potting some delicate 
 seedling, or engaged in one of the numerous 
 occupations which filled up his time from sun- 
 rise to sunset, and made the garden the glory of 
 the country. 
 
 I have reserved for the last the greatest orna- 
 ments of this very ornamental dwelling. The first 
 was a lady, who seemed to be between thirty 
 and forty, of a majestic figure, and noble cast of 
 features. She was simply dressed in a dark 
 print robe, that no rustic belle would have con- 
 descended to look at ; but though entirely with- 
 out decoration, it could not disguise nor dimi- 
 nish the perfectly lady-like bearing of the 
 wearer. There was a shade of melancholy in 
 her pale classical features that denoted deep and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 77 
 
 long continued suffering; but there was com- 
 bined with it an expression of resignation, that 
 if it did not give a more cheerful expression to 
 the countenance, rendered it too impressive to 
 be easily forgotten. 
 
 Her companion, also very plainly dressed, 
 was a young girl of about fourteen — a blooming 
 Psyche to that sedate Minerva — slim, graceful, 
 and intelligent; her cheek flushed with the 
 warm tinge of health ; her step buoyant with 
 the elasticity of youth. The expression of her 
 features was less serious than that of the elder 
 lady, yet whenever her large dark eyes were 
 directed towards the other, they assumed a 
 gravity that was almost unnatural to one so 
 young, combined, with a degree of tenderness 
 that seemed equally singular and out of place. 
 
 It was impossible to observe these associates, 
 even for a few minutes, without coming to the 
 conclusion that they were bound to each other 
 by no ordinary tie. That ihcy were related 
 seemed decided by the likeness, and it miiziht be
 
 78 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 presumed from all outward appearances, that 
 they were sisters. This presumption, however, 
 was negatived by their conversation. They in- 
 variably addressed each other as mother and 
 daughter. 
 
 Yet it was equally evident that they were 
 mistress and pupil — for in the course of accom- 
 pUshments through which the younger lady was 
 proceeding, the elder was the sole instructress. 
 She was musician, artist, embroideress, linguist, 
 and last, though not least in estimation, moralist; 
 and so skilled was she, both in the means of 
 teaching and in the method, that already had 
 ample evidence manifested itself that the student 
 was advancing to that womanly perfection which 
 can exist only when a pure soul is united with 
 a highly cultivated mind. 
 
 They were now going through their morning 
 studies, and it was impossible to say whose task 
 was most pleasing — that of teacher, or that of 
 pupil; or who was most anxious to gratify the 
 other — the one by explaining, the other by ac-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 79 
 
 complishing, what was difficult. They played 
 together one of the master-pieces of Beethoven 
 — a finely blended performance, in w^hich the 
 resources of that great composer were developed 
 with admirable skill and judgment: they sang 
 together one of the choicest productions of 
 Mozart, in which their exquisite voices gave an 
 additional charm to the exquisite melody of this 
 purest of musicians: together they went over 
 the allotted tasks — the French of Fcnelon, the 
 Italian of Goidoni, and the German of Goethe ; 
 and it might be thought that a similar fellowship 
 in learning was exemplified in the drawing, em- 
 broidery, crochet, and one or two other feminine 
 graces that make up the curriculum of ^^the 
 complete young lady" — so completely did they 
 unite in the same labour. 
 
 At last the customary studies came to an end ; 
 and the books, the music, the drawings, and the 
 work, were put away ; but it seemed as if with 
 a kind of reluctance on both sides — so agreeable 
 did the time pass with the daughter in acquiring
 
 80 THE GOLDEN CALF 
 
 further experience of the accomplishments of 
 her parent ; with the mother, in obtaining ad- 
 ditional proofs of the talent of her child. 
 
 The love of the sexes is doubtless a wonderful 
 impulse, and is capable of great and extraordi- 
 nary demonstrations; but rarely in intensity, 
 never in purity, has it been excelled by the im- 
 pulse which made these two hearts beat so 
 perfectly in unison. They were bound up in 
 each other ; they lived in each other ; in each 
 other existed their sole earthly comfort, solace, 
 and happiness. It is no wonder, then, that when 
 they most strongly felt their mutual dependence 
 they should be reluctant for any change. 
 
 Could there be sin in the manifestations of a 
 feeling so holy? Mother and daughter they 
 acknowledged themselves; but the far-seeing 
 neighbours who had most confidently predicted 
 this relationship, were good enough to make it 
 independent of those ordinances with which the 
 church renders such tics sacred. Though these 
 discoveries in general are as false as they are
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 81 
 
 vile — there existed in the daily life of mother 
 and daughter sufficient grounds on which 
 to raise such an assumption. Mrs. Howard 
 never mentioned her husband. There was 
 nothing in or about the cottage that could lead 
 to the impression that the elder lady had been 
 married. The younger lady never referred to 
 her relations. 
 
 But was this suspicion consonant with their 
 admirable conduct? Could it be sustained at 
 sunrise, when the two knelt together in worship 
 — the first act of a blameless day — and after 
 fervent thanks for the Providence that had 
 sustained them through the night, prayed for a 
 continuance of the grace that could carry them 
 through the perils of the day? Could it be 
 entertained at even, when their united thanks- 
 giving expressed their gratitude for the day's 
 blessings, and they joined in supplications fur 
 he!}) to those who were in peril, and pardon ibr 
 those who were in ain ? Or could it be thought 
 or in any }>oi lion of the foui* and twenty hour^, 
 E 3
 
 82 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 when all were devoted to good feeling, right 
 thinking, and an honest existence ? 
 
 Vice not unfrequently appears in the garment 
 of Virtue — and the sinner has more than once 
 known the advantage of seeming sinless : it also 
 has occurred that a nature, with a perfect know- 
 ledge of the good, has been betrayed into evil, 
 and has subsequently strove to live a pure and 
 holy life. But who could look upon the noble 
 countenance of Mrs. Howard, and think of 
 hypocrisy ? Who could meet the pure expres- 
 sion of her eyes, and suspect wickedness ? 
 
 Might not the relationship of mother and 
 daughter be assumed ? The child might have 
 been taught to consider her companion her 
 parent; and the companion might have an 
 object in bringing up the child in this delusion. 
 She might be the offspring of a beloved sister ; 
 of a dear friend ; of a lover who had slighted 
 her; and by one of those heroic acts of self- 
 forgetfulness which women only can achieve, the 
 evidence of her wrong had become an appeal
 
 .THE GOLDEN CALF. 83 
 
 to her benevolence. There seemed a likeness ; 
 but as the dyer's hand is imbued with the tint 
 with which he works, the expression of one 
 countenance under the influence of continual 
 goodness might have taken the admirableness 
 of the other; accidental similarities also have 
 been known to exist, and have been the origin 
 of preferences, sufficient to account for these 
 females living together with the tender affection 
 towards each other, which made their supposed 
 nearness in blood appear so natural. 
 
 But what niece and aunt ever felt towards 
 each other as did the inmates of Rose Cottage. 
 What friendship ever produced love so deep and 
 durable as was manifested in their daily life ? 
 What feminine forgetfulness of wrong ever took 
 the form of that unutterable devotion which, in 
 this instance, made the object of its regard as 
 precious as the soul by which it was worshipped ? 
 
 In all the various chances and changes which 
 may bring together a senior and a junior member 
 of similar sex and of the same human nature.
 
 84 THE GOLDEN CALF., 
 
 there is but one which can explain the transfu- 
 sion of each other's qualities, that had been going 
 on for years within the unpretending dwelling 
 I have described: and there is but one tie of 
 kindred which can account for that entire de- 
 pendence on, and exclusive happiness in, each 
 other, to which I have endeavoured to do 
 justice. 
 
 They were Mother and Daughter.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 85 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE INTERRUPTED POLKA. 
 
 Mrs. Howard and her daughter passed through 
 the glass-door that opened from the sitting-room 
 into the garden ; their parasols shading their 
 faces from the afternoon sun. Jacob Muskett 
 discerned their approach, and left off divesting 
 some fine fuchsias of their dead leaves and 
 faded blooms ; shuffling towards them as rapidly 
 as could be expected from an old man, whose 
 back was nearly on a line with his hips. On 
 the way he contrived to cut two very beautiful 
 moss-roseSj which he carefully trimmed as he 
 went. He was a curious looking object in his
 
 86 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 sleeved waistcoat and green apron; his drab 
 breeches, blue stockings, and buckled shoes, 
 with his coarse straw hat shading his brown and 
 wrinkled features. The hat, however, must 
 have been almost superfluous; for in the posi- 
 tion in which he always held his head, very 
 little of the sun's rays could affect his face. At 
 least it affbrded shelter to his bald pate, which, 
 except an irregular circle of dark grey locks, 
 had no protection from sun-stroke. 
 
 As he came near the ladies, Jacob pulled off 
 his hat with the customary salutation, and pre- 
 sented a flower to each. He conferred his gifts 
 very much as though he was master there, and 
 his mistresses were his visitors. And master 
 most certainly he was, for no one ever attempted 
 to interfere with the old gardener, on ground 
 that he had made so completely his own. He was 
 monarch of all he surveved, and the flowers 
 were not more obedient to his rule than his 
 indulgent mistresses, who accepted his little 
 present with an abundance of thanks and ad*
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 87 
 
 miration, as if they were not less surprised than 
 gratified, though it was a daily custom. 
 
 He then walked with them down the prin- 
 cipal path — they loitering by the way, as if to 
 admire the different specimens of his skilful 
 culture, which bloomed in beauty on each side 
 of them; their real object being to accommo- 
 date their pace to his, sq that they might hear 
 his observations, and reply in a position near 
 enough for him to hear. For the poor fellow, 
 though so far removed from anything resem- 
 bling a squire to such beauties, was treated by 
 them with a good deal more consideration than 
 would have been accorded to any one more 
 suited by nature to fill such a post. He, in his 
 turn, looked upon the ladies as deserving all 
 the attention he could manage to divert from 
 his flowers. 
 
 " The rains yesterday appear to have very 
 much refreshed the plants," observed Mrs. 
 Howard. 
 
 " Yes, mamma," added the other ; " and
 
 88 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 they all look so fresh, and smell so sweet, that I 
 do not know when the garden has appeared 
 more beautiful." 
 
 "Thanks to Jacob, it does look everything 
 that could be desired at this season," added her 
 mother, in a tone which she intended her ser- 
 vant should hear. 
 
 " Roses wants a dqal of care, ma'am," said 
 the gardener, his infirmity preventing, in general, 
 his having the most correct notion of what was 
 said to him. " Leastways the bettermost sorts 
 do, and there be a goodish many even of such 
 as be most in favour of gentlefolks. But there 
 beant many plants as so rewards the gardener 
 for his care as roses ; they do make such a 
 pretty show, and smells so sweet, they do, and 
 be so long a-blowing." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you like roses, Jacob," 
 said the young lady ; " they were always my 
 favourites." 
 
 " I think, Miranda," added her mother, with 
 ci smile^ *' that you couid say the same of every
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 89 
 
 flower with which our good Jacob adorns our 
 quiet dweUing." 
 
 " That is very true, dear mamma," replied 
 the other, indulging in a pretty laugh at the 
 expense of her own consistency. " But Jacob's 
 flowers are so very beautiful, one cannot help 
 greatly admiring each in its turn. Still the 
 rose appears so grand, and so rich, and so 
 lovely, it is natural to like it best of all. Be- 
 sides, it is the queen of the garden, and there- 
 fore the more entitled to our homage and 
 affection ; and it is also the national flower, and 
 the symbol of one of our royal dynasties. I 
 am therefore bound to it by every tie of 
 patriotism and loyalty." 
 
 *' It's surprising to see what variety can be 
 found in nature, even in one flower," said the 
 old man. "I remember once, when I was a 
 working at my lord duke's, I went to see a show 
 of roses as had been grown at a florist's ; there 
 was a matter of several hundred different sorts ; 
 the grandest sight, and the most beautifulest,
 
 90 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and for smell the sweetest, I ever come anigh. 
 There seemed no end of trees, and they was a 
 blossoming in number as no one could count." 
 
 " And so much delightful poetry has been 
 written upon the rose !" said Miss Howard. 
 " Therefore, it is the less strange that an object 
 which has been the admiration of some of the 
 finest intellects that ever adorned the world, 
 should recommend itself to me." 
 
 " Well, Miranda," said her mother, " I sup- 
 pose I must acknowledge that you have good 
 authority for your preference. But we must 
 not forget the claims of its numerous rivals ; 
 and I cannot but admit that Jacob does his 
 best to prevent their being overlooked by either 
 of us. Here, for instance, are those stately 
 emblems of purity and innocence, of which it 
 was said from holy lips, * They toil not, neither 
 do they spin ; yet Solomon in all his glory was 
 not arrayed like one of these.' " 
 
 " Oh them lilies ! " exclaimed Jacob, who 
 had followed the direction of the speaker's look.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 91 
 
 "I has a great love, and a sort of veneration 
 like, for them innocent things. I can't help 
 thinking as how they was one of the flowers as 
 bloomed in the first garden as ever was, and 
 Adam took away one of the roots when he was 
 forced to leave the place : there seems Paradise 
 written in every pure and silvery leaf. 
 
 " That was a grievous thing, his leaving such 
 a goodly spot," added the old man, with a sigh. 
 " For though there couldn't have been no know- 
 ledge of grafting, or budding, or forcing, or even 
 planting, where all the plots and borders were 
 made ready to his hand; yet, as it must have 
 been a fine soil and a fine air, the flowers must 
 have been the finest sorts, and uncommon rich 
 in blooms. Plants, in places where they likes 
 to be, wants no looking arter at all ; for many a 
 grand thing as we rears in hot-houses with a 
 world of trouble, in their natural country grows 
 wild in the woods and plains, as common as 
 bind-weed or sow-thistle in our hedges." 
 
 " There is another proof, if any were want-
 
 92 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 ing," added Mrs. Howard, " of the inex- 
 haustible bounty of Providence. He scatters 
 ornaments in our way, as though sowing the 
 seed broadcast ; and whilst filling both our 
 fields and gardens with a continual change, 
 allows the beauties of the most distant quarters 
 of the globe to be cultivated, with a certain 
 degree of care, as successfully as in more 
 favoured climates. The number of flowering 
 plants is wonderfully great ; but when we come 
 to consider the varieties of each species — the 
 rose alone having eight hundred — we may form 
 some conception of the marvellous power and 
 goodness of the Creator of all." 
 
 They continued their walk to the end of the 
 path, where the old man took a respectful leave 
 of his mistresses, and shuffled off towards a 
 small green-house, near which he had been 
 employed on their entering the garden. 
 
 " Poor Jacob hardly seems able to get along, 
 mamma," said Miss Ploward, watching his pro- 
 gress with painful interest. " I think his back
 
 THE GOLDTN CALF. 93 
 
 must be worse than ever, though I do not 
 remember his walking much more upright than 
 he docs now." 
 
 " My memory can travel farther back than 
 yours, Miranda," replied her mother, with a 
 sigh ; " and I have a distinct recollection of 
 him as straight as you are." 
 
 " Was he living here, then ?" 
 
 " No, nor was I living here, either." 
 
 *' Where was it then, mamma ?" But as her 
 mother hesitated to answer, she added, " I am 
 sure it could not have been a prettier place ; and 
 therefore I doubt you could have been happier 
 than you are now." 
 
 The beautiful face of the mother became 
 clouded as if by some painful recollection ; but 
 she walked on in silence. 
 
 "You do not tell me, dear mamma," said 
 Miss Howard, anxiously. 
 
 Her mother seemed to make an effort to 
 throw off the oppression of her feelings, and 
 gazing on her child affectionately, replied, <^ I
 
 94 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 could not be so happy anywhere, my dearest 
 child, as I am whilst enjoying the blessing of so 
 good a daughter." 
 
 Miranda now held down her head, and paused 
 a moment, and when she looked up mto her 
 mother's still troubled face, her lustrous eyes 
 were dimmed by the clear drops that trembled 
 on their lashes. They walked on without 
 speaking for a few yards — the younger feeling 
 instinctively that her mother had some deep 
 sorrow that she ought not to disturb ; and the 
 elder shrinking from any reference to a subject 
 that could only throw a gloom over the present 
 snnshine of her child's life. Both made efforts 
 to recover their lost spirits, and both to a con- 
 siderable extent succeeded; for when they 
 entered their favourite resting place at the end 
 of the garden, each made an exclamation of 
 pleasure and surprise as they beheld the pre- 
 parations that had been made for their gratifica- 
 tion. 
 
 The place just alluded to was a leafy bower
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 95 
 
 formed of wild hops, the larger convolvuhis and 
 other creepers, and was as picturesque outside 
 as it was cool and clean within. The back part 
 was filled with the most beautiful cactuses and 
 other large shrubs in full flower — those of smaller 
 size coming next, and the smallest ranged before 
 them. As amongst them were the musk, 
 mignionette, heliotrope, geranium, verbena, and 
 lemon plant, the odour that filled the arbour 
 was as grateful to the one sense as the bright 
 colours of the rest were to the other. 
 
 On a small marble-topped table in front was 
 a vase of fresh-cut flowers, a decanter of spring 
 water, and two goblets, and several dishes of the 
 choicest fruit then in season. The ladles put 
 down their parasols, drew the two rustic chairs 
 to the table, and commenced an attack upon the 
 refection. 
 
 Jacob evidently was as proud of his fruit as of 
 his flowers; they were so carefully displayed. 
 Plump strawberries of the most delicate colour 
 were piled upon their cool leaves — raspberries
 
 96 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 of extraordinary size, with the bloom undis- 
 turbed, stood in a tempting pyramid beside 
 them — luscious bunches of green and purple 
 grapes demanded admiration at a little distance; 
 and currants, that seemed, by their size, aspiring 
 to be of the same family, were heaped up — red, 
 black, and wjiite — in a manner that made selec- 
 tion a matter of some difficulty: nor had the 
 gooseberries adjoining a less enticing appearance 
 — some were so over-filled with the rich juice 
 as to burst their jackets, and all were evidently 
 in that state in which it seemed a sin to leave 
 them uneaten. 
 
 The two ladies sat and enjoyed their repast 
 as it had been hoped they would enjoy it ; nor 
 did they omit to give their humble caterer the 
 praise due for his attention. If he had been 
 near enough, and had possessed hearing acute 
 enough, to distinguish his commendations, he 
 would have felt himself much more than repaid 
 for the trouble to which it had put him ; but he 
 had then gone in-doors to get his tea, and was
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 97 
 
 telling the old woman, his wife, and the little 
 Effie, his grandchild, how he had managed to 
 make such a nice show in the arbom', and he 
 chuckled over his good management and orderly 
 arrangement, and talked of the surprise it w^ould 
 be to his mistresses, just as if neither of his com- 
 panions had any knowledge of the important 
 transaction. 
 
 But the fact was, that the smiling little Effie 
 had fetched the dishes and arranged the fruit 
 with her own little fingers. Nor had she been 
 altogether a quiet looker-on when the plants 
 were being put in their places, for she had 
 helped in lifting, in pushing, and in marshalling 
 all the flower-pots in their respective rows : in 
 short, had insisted in doing the greater portion 
 of the work, entirely from a wish in her little 
 heart that she might take so much trouble from 
 her somewhat feeble grandfather. 
 
 The ladies had finished their refection, and, 
 again shading their heads from the sun, had left 
 the bower their old retainer had made eo 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 pleasant for them, for the purpose of continuing 
 their promenade. On a line with the arbour 
 was a hedge that divided that part of the garden 
 from the orchard, the gate of which was about 
 twenty yards' distance, and by the winding of 
 the lane beyond it any person from this portion 
 of Mrs. ELoward's garden could be seen ap- 
 proaching. 
 
 *^ Here is Mr. Possett, mamma, on his old 
 horse Jack !" exclaimed Miranda, as a short, 
 middle-aged gentleman made his appearance in 
 a turning of the road. The ladies waited as if 
 to see him pass ; but such was not his intention, 
 for he dismounted and put the reins securely 
 over the post of the gate, which he presently 
 opened. 
 
 " What can he want in the orchard, I wonder!" 
 inquired the young lady, in a tone of surprise. 
 
 " I don*t know, indeed," replied her mother. 
 "He is not likely to meet a patient there; and 
 I do not thhik he is sufficiently fond of fruit to 
 climb the trees for it,"
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 99 
 
 " Oh mamma, he is dancing ! How very 
 droll!" 
 
 ^'Hush, Miranda; he may hear you." 
 
 Both ladies stood still, watching the very 
 eccentric motions of the apothecary, who, in 
 an oil-skin covered hat fastened to his button by 
 half a yard of galloon, a green cutaway coat, 
 yellow neck-handkerchief, buff double-breasted 
 waistcoat, and brown cloth leggings that nearly 
 concealed his white cords, and double-soled 
 shoes, with a silver spur clumsily fastened on 
 the right foot, , bearing an open letter in one 
 hand and a heavy riding-whip in the other, was 
 evidently practising some step or figure written 
 on the paper, the tune of which he sung during 
 the time in a pretty audible under tone. 
 
 " What a strange man !" whispered the 3'oung 
 lady, suppressing her laughter. 
 
 " His brother is a dancing-master," observed 
 
 her mother, "and nature evidently intended 
 
 him to be the same, so eager is ho to become 
 
 acquainted with every novelty that comes into 
 
 F 2
 
 100 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 fashion in the art he loves. He is evidently 
 now studying something new, of which his 
 relative has furnished him with the requisite de- 
 scription, as may be inferred from the attention 
 he is giving to the contents of the open letter." 
 
 " Dear mamma, I cannot help laughing, to 
 see the little man capering so earnestly by 
 himself, and doing the same step and humming 
 the same tune over and over again. Now he 
 wipes his dear little bald head with his pocket- 
 handkerchief, and again he repeats the figure 
 and the tune more earnestly than ever. And I 
 declare, Jack has poked his head over the gate, 
 and is whinnying his applause of his master's 
 agility." 
 
 The noise the horse made startled the ab- 
 sorbed dancer, and as he turned his head round, 
 he caught sight of the ladies. Apparently un- 
 abashed, he took off his hat and bowed, and 
 then made towards them, as they cordially 
 returned his acknowledgments. 
 
 " Hope you won't prosecute for trespass,
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 101 
 
 ma'am ?" he said, gaily, addressing Mrs. Howard ; 
 " but I only got the description by this morn- 
 ing's post, and I have been so monstrous busy 
 with going to see my different patients in 
 Somerton Paddocks and the adjacent villages, 
 that I haven't had so much as a moment's time 
 to practise a bit of it; but as I was returning 
 home your place looked so retired, that I 
 couldn't resist the temptation, for the life of me, 
 of trying to get the proper step." 
 
 " What is it called, Mr. Possett?" asked Mrs. 
 Howard. 
 
 " It's the Polka, ma'am," he replied. " My 
 brother says there has never been any dance in 
 his time as took so amazingly with fashionable 
 people. It's just come from Paris, and very 
 pretty it is, too; though I ought to have a 
 partner to give you a proper idea of it. My 
 brother says it goes in this way." 
 
 And off went the active little apothecary, his 
 arms and legs flying about to his own nmsic 
 with such extraordinary vivacity, that the young
 
 102 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 lady was obliged to put a handkerchief before 
 her face to conceal the amusement so grotesque 
 a spectacle evidently afforded her; for all the 
 time his features wore as grave an expression as 
 if he had been watching the crisis of some 
 fatal disorder. 
 
 " Very pretty dance, ma'am," he said, as soon 
 as he could recover breath, '^and monstrous 
 fine exercise. Indeed, 1 don't know anything 
 better than the Polka for opening the chest, 
 and giving a proper degree of elasticity to the 
 limbs. Should recommend it to 3^oung ladies 
 especially, ma'am," he added, with a glance at 
 Miss Howard. " But they must learn it. It's 
 quite an original thing, and the tune is so pretty 
 and stirring." 
 
 "I should like to learn it very much, Mr. 
 Possett," said Miss Howard. " I am sure I 
 could learn it as easily as you taught me the 
 Galope." 
 
 " Nothing easier, Miss, and nothing prettier. 
 Teach you with all my heart."
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 103 
 
 "Perhaps you'll be kind enough to come 
 round, Mr. Possett," said her mamma. "I 
 should like myself to see more of this won- 
 derful Polka. Have you got the tune?" 
 
 "Have it in my pocket, ma'am — copied for 
 me by my brother." Mr. Possett emptied the 
 repositories in his coat one after another, 
 and brought to light a pocket-book, a box of 
 instruments, a cupping-glass, a case of lancets, 
 a phial of laudanum, a roll of sticking plaster 
 and lint, then one or two ugly-looking things 
 for extracting teeth, and finally produced a 
 small sheet of manuscript music, which he 
 handed to Mrs. Howard. 
 
 "My father was a dancing-master, ma'am, 
 and when I was young he taught me so much 
 of the art, that I appeared in little juvenile 
 ballets at some of the theatres, and more than 
 once danced a pas de deux with Mademoiselle 
 Melanie de Millefleur, or ' La Petite Melanie,' 
 as she was styled in the play-bills, with un- 
 bounded applause, as the papers said, ma'am ;
 
 104 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 but when I grew a little older, an uncle, who 
 was well off, thought proper to educate me for 
 the medical profession, and I was obliged to 
 leave the pumps for the lancets. Yet I find 
 I can't altogether abandon my old habits. I 
 often catch myself entering the room of a gouty 
 patient whistling a hornpipe, or approaching a 
 bad case of ague with the gavotte step. 
 
 " But I'll be round in a moment, ma'am," he 
 added, taking off his hat, and bowing respect- 
 fully; then hurrying to the gate, he was soon 
 on horseback, and going his usual jog-trot pace 
 in the direction of the entrance to Rose 
 Cottage. The ladies also hurried to the 
 parlour, Miranda all animation, and her mother 
 delighted at having an opportunity of giving 
 her pleasure. 
 
 Presently Mr. Possett made his appearance — 
 his hat and riding- whip were laid by, and 
 placing himself in position as Mrs. Howard 
 commenced the inspiriting air on the piano, lie 
 proceeded to initiate his fair partner into the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 105 
 
 mysteries of this fashionable dance. She proved 
 an apt pupil, and entered into its spirit with 
 such- intense enjoyment, that her mother ap- 
 peared to feel as much gratification as herself. 
 As to the apothecary, it is impossible to express 
 the intensity of his pleasure — to have learned 
 such a dance, and to have obtained such a 
 partner, appeared to elevate him almost beyond 
 self-control. 
 
 His happiness was not of long duration. 
 Just as the dance was proceeding with the most 
 complete abandonment on the part of all 
 parties concerned in it, the smiling face of little 
 Effie was seen to enter the room, announcing, 
 in a loud voice, " the Rev. Dr. Beauclerk !" 
 
 f3
 
 106 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A NEW REMEDY. 
 
 Since the reader last beheld Mrs. Howard's 
 unexpected visitor, a great change had taken 
 place in his outward man. His hair was very 
 white, and his limbs very stout, and his face was 
 remarkably plump and rosy. He wore, also, a 
 suit of the best broad-cloth, cut in the most 
 orthodox clerical fashion, with the neatest white 
 cravat, the finest linen, the most delicate black 
 silk stockings, and the best made town-shoes, 
 tied with very large bows. Altogether — that is, 
 including his new shovel-hat, his handsome 
 walking-stick, and his gold spectacles, — the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 107 
 
 Rev. Dr. Beauclerk looked as well-preserved a 
 specimen of a Minister of the Church of Eng- 
 land as could be met with between Westminster 
 Abbey and Canterbury Cathedral. 
 
 How he became acquainted with Mrs. Howard 
 it is not necessary now to state. Suffice it to 
 say, that for many years she had been regarded 
 with a degree of reverence and admiration he 
 could not have felt for all the ladies of his parish 
 put together. Indeed, at one time, though this 
 is a profound secret, she^had been a secret wor- 
 ship; when every thought of her appeared to 
 lift him above himself, and he regarded a word 
 of commendation from her as a source of greater 
 pride than was even the notice he obtained from 
 the " Quarterly Review" of his new edition of 
 ^schylus, the first perusal of which he had 
 always looked back to as marking the happiest 
 day of his life. 
 
 Up to the present hour he felt the same influ- 
 ence. Though he had always known it to be 
 a dream as unsubstantial as the reflection of the
 
 108 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 stars in a still water, he never entered her pre- 
 sence without a sensible acceleration of the 
 pulses of his heart, mingled with a feeling of his 
 own unworthiness to breathe the same air with 
 a being so pure and noble. In the Bible for his 
 private use, containing his own MS. notes, — 
 which, though always preserved in one conspi- 
 cuous place in his bed-room, had its leaves con- 
 fined by a Bramah lock, — there were a few shri- 
 velled leaves of some dried plant. Twenty years 
 ago it had been a flower he had seen her throw 
 away. 
 
 With such feelings of veneration and homage, 
 his surprise at the scene he observed on entering 
 the room he had learnt to regard as a Catholic 
 would the holiest of shrines, was, indeed, exces- 
 sive. He beheld the admirable Miranda exhi- 
 biting the greatest possible delight whilst being 
 whirled along the carpet by a man who was 
 distinguished among his parishioners as " the 
 Dancing DucLor," and whom he had hitherto 
 looked upon nb a harmless sort of maniac ; and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 109 
 
 the incomparable Mrs. Howard not only sanc- 
 tioning such a very singular proceeding, but 
 playing the profane tune to which they were 
 dancing, evidently as greatly delighted as her 
 daughter. 
 
 His astonishment appeared to take his breath 
 away, and all he could do was, with his shovel 
 hat in one hand, and his gold-headed cane in 
 the other, to perpetrate a series of grave bows, 
 till he could recover his speech and his presence 
 of mind. 
 
 The dance ceased. Mrs. Howard rose to 
 welcome her visitor ; Miranda, to place a chair 
 for him ; their good spirits as evident to him as 
 their good looks. 
 
 "Your servant, doctor," said the little apothe- 
 cary, walking up to the divine with the step he 
 had been practising. 
 
 " Your most obedient, Mr. Possett," replied 
 Dr. Beauclerk, very gravely, eyeing his pa- 
 rishioner through his spectacles with a mingled 
 expression of astonishment and rebuke.
 
 llO THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 '* Mr. Posse tt has been good enough to teach 
 Miranda the Polka, Dr. Beauclerk," observed 
 Mrs. Howard. 
 
 " And it really is the most inspiriting dance 
 that I ever saw or heard of, doctor," added the 
 young lady, with slight symptoms of being out 
 of breath. 
 
 ^* Indeed !" was all the Vicar of Somerton 
 Paddocks could get himself to reply; glancing 
 from one fair face to the other, as though he 
 thought the world was coming to an end. 
 
 " Capital dance, I assure you, doctor — and 
 the best exercise in the world;" put in the apo- 
 thecary, digging his heels in the neat Brussels 
 carpet, as though to show how it developed mus- 
 cular action. "But you may depend upon it 
 there is nothing like dancing for the health. 
 When I was called to Farmer Pollard's 
 daughter, to cure her hysterics, I soon found 
 that the source of her complaint was idle- 
 ness; as it is of one half of those for which 
 people are always wanting physic. Instead of
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. Ill 
 
 prescribing four draughts and a mixture, I 
 ordered a set of quadrilles in the morning, a 
 country dance in the afternoon, and a waltz at 
 night. She was well in a week, doctor; and 
 has never had a fit since." 
 
 " Bless me !" exclaimed the divine. 
 
 " And there was old Dame Trollop, in the 
 Almshouses," continued the apothecary, " who 
 was so bad of the dropsy that she could hardly 
 move. I first commenced with the positions, 
 half an hour every day ; and though it's barely a 
 month since she began following my prescrip- 
 tions, she has not only entirely got rid of her 
 disease, but dances the Highland fling as well as 
 an}' native of the Grampians." 
 
 " Is it possible!" cried Dr. Beauclerk. 
 
 " In truth, the Highland fling is my grand 
 specific," said the other, breaking into the step 
 with a display of energy that made the divine 
 hurriedly draw in his legs. " The best thing in 
 the world for obstinate cases of rheumatism — a 
 tendency to get too full a habit — ^or even in
 
 112 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 first symptoms of gout. Should recommend 
 it to you, doctor." 
 
 " Sir!" exclaimed the divine, holding up his 
 powdered head, and looking more than usually 
 dignified and clerical. 
 
 " Beg pardon. Forgot it's against the cloth," 
 said the apothecary, unabashed. " But, for all 
 that, dancing is not only a good physical, but a 
 good moral agent. When I first came into these 
 parts there was very little sociality amongst the 
 people, and a good deal of pride. The man 
 that farmed a thousand acres hardly thought the 
 man that farmed a hundred good enough to sit 
 in his presence; and the squire's housekeeper 
 would not demean herself by associating with 
 the schoolmistress of the village; but now I 
 have made them so dependent on each other 
 that the richest landowner is glad to take his 
 humble neighbour by the hand in Sir Roger de 
 Coverly; and the finest of our would-be fine 
 ladies who would refuse to stand up in a reel 
 with the poorebt village lass, would be scouted 
 out of society.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 113 
 
 " Bless your heart, doctor," continued the 
 speaker, warming with his subject, " there's 
 scarce a w^eek now passes without some of the 
 farmers getting up a dance in one of their 
 barns, where all the neighbourhood's invited — 
 rich and poor — gentle and simple — masters and 
 servants — all welcome alike. And, in another 
 point of view, the good that is done by dancing 
 is incalculable, for we never hear of such things 
 as robbing or poaching now. The truth is, even 
 the worst characters in the country have been 
 taught to like a dance better than a burglary; 
 and a young fellow that has got his thoughts 
 engaged upon the College hornpipe, doesn't 
 care about going out at night to snare 
 hares." 
 
 " You amaze me, Mr. Possett," said Dr. 
 Beauclerk, in genuine astonishment; "I had 
 no idea, Sir, that the art you speak of could 
 have been attended with such beneficial 
 effects." 
 
 " Come and sec, doctor, and judge for your- 
 self," replied the apothecary. " To-morrow
 
 114 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 night Farmer Hawthorn gives a hop in his large 
 barn in the Swallow -field. He'll be proud to 
 see you amongst his neighbours." 
 . " I shall make a point to look in upon the 
 worthy farmer," observed the divine, graciously; 
 " he is a very respectable member of my con- 
 gregation, and always behaves handsomely about 
 tithes and Easter offerings." 
 
 " I was just thinking, doctor," remarked Mrs. 
 Howard, " that Miranda has been somewhat 
 too much excluded from the amusements proper 
 to her age and sex ; and I think Mr. Possett is 
 very much to be commended for the pains he 
 has taken that the dear child should know 
 what is natural and customary." 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Possett is to be commended 
 — very highly to be commended," said Dr. 
 Beauclerk, with considerable energy, feeling 
 that a person honoured by Mrs. Howard's 
 praise must at once become to him a dis- 
 tinguished character. " I am quite of opinion 
 that Miss Howard has hitherto been too much
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 115 
 
 excluded from society, and that it is very proper 
 that she should be familiar with those graceful 
 accomplishments common to all well-educated 
 young ladies." 
 
 Mr. Possett now resumed his riding-whip 
 and hat ; and whilst making his adieux to the 
 ladies, urged them to go to Farmer Hawthorn's 
 hop, by what he considered the greatest pos- 
 sible inducements. Mrs. Howard seemed as if 
 she scarcely knew whether to look grave or to 
 laugh ; but there was no doubt about what 
 Miranda thought of doing, for she exhibited 
 the most extravagant gratification at the idea of 
 enjoying so perfectly new a pleasure. Both, 
 however, parted with him, with the most cordial 
 good feeling ; and very cordial indeed was the 
 grasp of the hand he received from Dr. Beau- 
 clerk, who appeared inclined to make up, as 
 rapidly as he could, for the indifference with 
 which he had formerly treated, as he after- 
 wards acknowledged, a man of his uncommon 
 merit.
 
 116 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 At his departure, Miranda left the room to 
 give some directions to httle Effie, leaving her 
 mamma and the doctor to those confidential 
 communications which usually passed at such 
 interviews. 
 
 At first, Mrs. Howard directed her discourse 
 to the one subject that just at that moment lay 
 uppermost in her thoughts — the propriety, and 
 on the other side the risk, of allowing her 
 daughter to visit persons in the neighbourhood. 
 So far as could be gathered from the conver- 
 sation that ensued, there could be very little to 
 advance against its propriety ; neither the 
 doctor nor Mrs. Howard could say anything in 
 prejudice of the recreations the little apothe- 
 cary had described so enticingly; and as for 
 the risk, in the judgment of both it did not 
 arise from the improper associates that might 
 be found in so promiscuous a circle, it was 
 evidently anticipated from a totally different 
 direction. 
 
 Whilst Mrs. Howard spoke of the gratifica-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 117 
 
 tions proper for her daughter, it was very 
 pleasing to notice the sweet expression that 
 pervaded her handsome features; but as soon 
 as she began to consider the danger that might 
 attach to them, that expression was succeeded 
 by one of intense pain. Indeed, her features 
 soon became more and more shadowed by the 
 deep griefs that, there was no doubt, had visited 
 her. 
 
 Yet w^hat these griefs were could not be 
 made out from the conversation, which now 
 had become very confidential ; nor was it at all 
 clear what was the nature of the danger that 
 was apprehended. All that could be learnt 
 from both was, that some man was to be avoided 
 at all hazards ; but he was only referred to by 
 the personal pronoun, he or him. Judging from 
 the suppressed emotion with which each alluded 
 to this person, he must have been a source of 
 great uneasiness to them; but as both most 
 carefully refrained from any further reference 
 to him than that which has been stated, it was
 
 118 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 impossible to imagine who or what he was, 
 from their discourse. 
 
 At last it seemed to be admitted, that Farmer 
 Hawthorn's barn was both decorous and safe. 
 " i7e" was not at all likely to be in that part of 
 the country, therefore the}^ might go. Though 
 it was a severe struggle with Mrs. Howard, to 
 break through a system which she had carried 
 out so long with perfect safety and comfort, yet 
 the desire she felt to increase her daughter's 
 very limited pleasures, proved all-powerful. The 
 dear girl, she felt convinced, could not always 
 be cooped up in a cottage ; and she was satis- 
 fied that she could not make her debut more 
 safely — considering the position in which she 
 was placed — than at a rustic dance, under the 
 auspices of their substantial neighbour. 
 
 As Dr. Beauclerk took his thoughtful way 
 home to his vicarage, he felt in such a strange 
 tumult of confused ideas and sensations, that he 
 became a little bewildered, and was very nearly 
 going to the vestry instead of to his o^n house.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 119 
 
 He had, however, contrived to make up his 
 mind to one thing, which was, to invite the little 
 apothecary to dinner at some early day, and 
 this for a particular reason of his own.
 
 120 THE GOLDEN CALF, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A DANCE IN THE BARN. 
 
 Considering that the large barn in the Swal- 
 lowfield at Somerton Paddocks was only lighted 
 by candles, supported on a suspended hoop 
 from the massive beams, it was very well lit up 
 for a country ball-room ; and taking into con- 
 sideration the branches of laurel and the huge 
 bunches of flowers which decorated every avail- 
 able place, it really had a very pretty appear- 
 ance. The dancers had plenty of good floor- 
 ing, but the sitters were somewhat straitened 
 for seats; as, including the barrel for the 
 musician, two or three low forms borrowed
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 121 
 
 from the village school, two arm-chairs from 
 the farm-house, and the trunk of a young tree 
 that had been blown down in the next field, 
 there were not seats sufficient for half the com- 
 pany. 
 
 It was evident that this did not inconvenience 
 them in the least. Many of the country girls, 
 as smart as fine ribbons could make them, sate 
 quite at their ease on the floor, talking in an 
 animated manner to their swains, who, in 
 their clean smock-frocks, or holiday- coats and 
 breeches, leaned against the sides of the barn, or 
 lay their lengths in the straw upon the floor. 
 At the upper end were seated the magnates of 
 the neighbourhood ; conspicuous among which 
 were the portly figures of the farmer and his 
 wife occupying the two arm-chairs; the one 
 smoking his long pipe, his fine ruddy face 
 animated with a boisterous laugh he had just 
 exploded at the expense of his neighbour, a 
 tall, sinewy wheelwright, whose extensive jaws 
 were at the same moment displayed too con- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 spicuously to doubt that he took the joke in 
 good part ; the other, a buxom dame displaying 
 her double chin, and shaking her capacious 
 shoulders, as she listened to some funny story 
 respecting the young Marquis of Hillsberry, 
 from a merry gipsy- looking girl, a daughter of 
 one of the Duke's gamekeepers. 
 
 Farmer Hawthorn, by the appearance of his 
 dress, seemed determined to be quite at home ; 
 for he was in his shirt-sleeves, his waistcoat w^as 
 half-unbuttoned, his large watch-seals dangled 
 from his fob, and neither his corded breeches 
 nor his top-boots looked as if he had thought it 
 necessary to make any preparations for the ball- 
 room. In short, with the exception of the coat, 
 which he had thrown on one side, he was then 
 just as he had returned from m.arket. His good 
 dame, on the contrary, was dressed for the 
 occasion. Her capacious gown of gay chintz, her 
 unruffled habit-shirt, and her smart cap, were 
 satisfactory evidence that she had found time, 
 after her numerous avocations of the day, to
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 123 
 
 make herself tidy, as she termed putting on her 
 best things. 
 
 The same process might have been observed 
 in most of the females around her; for young 
 and old were sporting their best bibs and tuckers, 
 with the clearest possible intention to be as 
 smart as their resources would permit. Some 
 were grouped together, gossiping the news of 
 the neighbourhood; a few indulged in a little 
 scandal, and a knot of young girls discussed 
 the respective merits of the last month's fashions, 
 and their last week's beaux. 
 
 The musician — a one-eyed little shoemaker 
 from the village — had tuned his fiddle and 
 rosined his bow — indeed, at the request of a 
 circle of certain gaping Gileses and Hodges, his 
 admirers, he had shown them the wonders of 
 his instrument — how it was made, and how it 
 was played, and its entire economy, from screws 
 to bridge ; and all the time thc}^ listened and 
 gazed as if they regarded their scraping friend 
 as a second Orpheus. 
 
 g2
 
 124 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Although there was a goodly assemblage in 
 the barn, no one attempted to commence a 
 dance. It seemed clear that the proper time for 
 beginning the amusements of the evening had 
 arrived, by Farmer Hawthorn hauling out of his 
 fob a huge silver watch, that looked extrem-ely 
 like a dripping-pan, and having marked the 
 position of the hands, he expressed his doubts 
 that the time was right, which occasioned the 
 exposure of several other similar instruments 
 from the men about him, for the purpose of 
 comparing the time. The farmer's pocket clock 
 was proved to be as correct as such an apparatus 
 could be ; and then it came out, that some one 
 whose company was expected, had been the 
 worst time-keeper of the lot. 
 
 It seemed to be the unanimous opinion of the 
 meeting, that their absent friend had done some- 
 thing very remarkable by not having joined 
 them — he had always been so punctual. Many 
 sage observations were dropped touching the 
 advantages of punctuality in general, and many
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 125 
 
 commendations were uttered in support of the 
 unvarying punctualit}'' of the absentee; but 
 another five muiutes escaped, and yet he had 
 not made his appearance. 
 
 The greyest heads now began to be shaken 
 with something like an ominous expression in 
 their corresponding countenances; then one or 
 two of that particular race that are always fore- 
 seeing evil, uttered sundr}^ surmises, apprehen- 
 sions, and forebodings, and before another five 
 minutes had elapsed, they had fully satisfied 
 themselves that their missing friend had either 
 made away with himself, had met with an 
 alarming accident, or had fallen down in a fit. 
 
 The suspense was at last put an end to by 
 one of the scouts, who had been sent to watch 
 from the large open door of the barn, for the 
 approach of their dilatory friend, announcing by 
 a loud cry, that he was coming. This brought 
 a score of eager assistants, who confirmed their 
 companion's testimony with many characteristic 
 exclamations of their own.
 
 126 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 "Why lauk-a-mercy!" exclaimed Miss Haw- 
 thorn, a great strapping girl in a pink dress, 
 who had also gone to the barn-door to recon- 
 noitre ; " here he be, sure enough. And only 
 to think of his bringing two ladies with him !" 
 
 " Ladies !" screamed Dame Hawthorn, jump- 
 ing out of her seat as if she had submitted to 
 the shock of a galvanic battery. " Who be 'em, 
 Peggy?" 
 
 " Why, goodness gracious me !" exclaimed 
 the young lady, " if they be'ant the ladies of 
 Rose Cottage. And sure and sartain here be 
 our vicar a coming along wi' 'em." 
 
 " Dick ! Bob ! Tom !" shouted the farmer, 
 darting out of his seat with a bounce that com- 
 pletely shattered his pipe, ** My coat, man, my 
 coat ! Here be Doctor Beauclerk a coming, and 
 ladies wi' him. They maunt see me in this pickle." 
 What a scene of confusion ensued! The 
 farming men darted off after the required 
 garment, the elders rose from their seats in a 
 fidgety state of bewilderment ; the girls hastily
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 127 
 
 smoothed their dresses and their hair, and the 
 young men looked sheepish, and felt very much 
 inclined to make their escape. 
 
 Presently the group at the door fell back 
 respectfully on each side — the girls bobbing to 
 the ground, their swains pulling their forelocks 
 — and then the little apothecary, in his full-dress 
 coat and pantaloons, entered the barn with a 
 jaunty step, with Mrs. Howard on one arm and 
 Miranda on the other, as though swelhng 
 under the sense of his own pride and satisfac- 
 faction in having been allowed to escort the two 
 handsome and stately creatures that were ex- 
 citing the admiration of the whole assembly. 
 
 The farmer's wife was bustUng forward for the 
 purpose of welcoming her visitors, and some half 
 a dozen of the farmer's men were hurriedly help- 
 ing their master into his coat, as Possett, nodding 
 graciously here and there, and striving to hold 
 his head as high as he could, swept along the 
 floor of the barn, followed by the reverend and 
 dignified Dr. Beauclerk, in full dress, and gold-
 
 128 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 beaded stick, looking benignantly through his 
 gold spectacles, and graciously taking off his 
 shovel hat in acknowledgment of the low 
 courtesies and profound bends with which he 
 was received by his parishioners. 
 
 Mrs. Howard, on entering the rustic ball- 
 room, exhibited no surprise, though it was very 
 different to the places devoted to such an 
 amusement she had seen in the course of her 
 life. Her fine features expressed gratification, 
 yet a close observer might have detected a sense 
 of uneasiness as she took a hurried glance around 
 the barn. Her daughter's countenance was 
 beaming with intelligence and pleasure, for the 
 scene was to her as pleasing as it was novel, and 
 she gazed about her with a face so bright, that 
 the wondering rustics stared as if they could 
 hardly bring themselves to believe that she was 
 a mere human creature like themselves. 
 
 By this time the portly Mrs. Hawthorn, sup- 
 ported by a few of her principal friends, male 
 and female, had advanced to within easy dis-
 
 THR GOLDEN CALF. 129 
 
 tance of the new comers; and the good dame 
 dropped a courtesy to the ladies, with her rosy 
 face smiling a thousand welcomes, 
 
 " Your servant, ma'am !" exclaimed the 
 apothecary, with a familiar nod. 
 
 " Happy to see you, and your friends, too, 
 ^Ir. Possett," said Mrs. Hawthorn, making 
 another bend. 
 
 " Mrs. and Miss Howard, ma'am," continued 
 the little man, " were desirous of observing with 
 their own eyes what I have told them scores of 
 times, respecting the sensible way in which you 
 and your husband entertain your neighbours 
 and dependants; and tlie Rev. Dr. Beauclerk, 
 ma am, on my report, has thought it equally 
 worth his seeing." 
 
 " We be mightily beholden to you, Mr. 
 Possett," replied Mrs. Hawthorn, her pride and 
 good humour equally evident in her delighted 
 countenance. " And my good man, I'm tartaia 
 sure, will bay as much." 
 
 " Sarveut ma'am ! Sarveni, mi&s ! Sarvenr, 
 g3
 
 130 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Doctor! Sarventj Maister Possett!" here ex- 
 claimed Farmer Hawthorn, with a profusion of 
 short bows, as he brought his portly figure by 
 the side of that of his good-looking wife, his 
 ruddy face irradiated with pleasure, and his 
 whole bearing equally expressive of his satis- 
 faction at the honour conferred upon him by the 
 appearance of such visitors. 
 
 His wife for a few minutes drev^ a little on 
 one side, and hurriedly gave some orders to two 
 fresh-complexioned young lasses, who darted off 
 immediately on receiving them ; and then she 
 spoke with much animation to her buxom 
 daughter, and she also disappeared, though, as 
 it seemed, somewhat reluctantly. The farmer 
 in the meanwhile, in homely, but sincere 
 phraseology, was expressing to his visitors his 
 fears that the place was not good enough for 
 them. This elicited an obliging observation 
 from Mrs. Howard, every word of which ap- 
 peared to convey a charni to the ear of the 
 farmer, and a more stately but equally compli-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 131 
 
 mentary speech, from Dr. Beauclerk, that was 
 listened to with quite as much respect as 
 gratification. 
 
 While these compliments were passing, Mr. 
 Possett had left his companions, and was en- 
 grossed by a circle of young people of both 
 sexes, to whom, in the most animated manner, 
 he appeared to be explaining certain matters 
 connected with his favourite pursuit; now 
 humming a tune, as if to mark the time ; now 
 moving about his little person, as if to describe 
 a figure ; and now shuffling or skipping with his 
 feet, as if to show a step. Then he had some- 
 thing to say to each of the seniors, which may 
 have been of a more professional character, 
 although the constant movements of his legs, 
 and the occasional bursts of whistling or 
 humming, in which he indulged whilst listening 
 to what was said to him, could not have suggested 
 such an idea to any one ignorant of his pecu- 
 liarities. 
 
 There was one person who took up more of
 
 132 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 his time than all the rest, and this too in a way 
 that made it assume the character of a matter of 
 course, — this was that important functionary the 
 fiddler. During the whole period of their long 
 interview, the old shoemaker fixed his one eye 
 upon the Httle apothecary with an intensity of 
 interest impossible to be described ; every now 
 and then playing snatches of airs as if at the 
 other's suggestion, whilst the latter approved or 
 disapproved according to the skill and judgment 
 exhibited by the village Orpheus. 
 
 Mrs. Howard and her daughter were now left 
 to the charge of Dame Hawthorn, her husband 
 having been drawn into an important discussion 
 with Dr. Beauclerk on parish matters. The 
 Dame brought forward her daughter as soon as 
 that young lady made her re-appearance, and 
 then her sister, Mrs. Mayflower, and her 
 daughters Susan and Lucy, were introduced to 
 the strangers; then her brother, Farmer Clodpole, 
 and his daughters Betsy, Martha, and Dorothy. 
 
 Mrt. Howard was gracioQS and conciliatory,
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 133 
 
 and endeavoured to make her new acquaintances 
 feel at their ease, whilst her daughter tried in 
 the most winning way to be at home with the 
 young ladies thus recommended to her, who, 
 however, were much more intently employed 
 in calculating the value of her dress — a remark- 
 ably plain one compared with theirs — than in 
 reciprocating her attentions. 
 
 These efforts in the way of mutual apprecia- 
 tion were suddenly put a stop to by the loud 
 commands of the little apothecary for the 
 dancers to choose their partners; and as the 
 fiddler, on the top of the barrel, struck up a 
 favourite tunc, Possett was seen to dart here and 
 there, lugging one backward bumpkin along, 
 and then another : then marshalUng all in their 
 places, and lastly, explaining with the greatest 
 vivacity what each was to do. Shy and reserved 
 young ladies had to be provided with animated 
 partners, and sheepish and awkward clowns 
 were accommodated with such sprightly lasses 
 as were likely to prevent their disturbing the
 
 134 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 dance; and it was wonderful to observe with 
 what dexterity the self-appointed master of the 
 ceremonies managed to arrange this rather 
 difficult matter, apparently to everybody's satis- 
 faction. 
 
 About a dozen couples stood up for a 
 quadrille — evidently the most select portion of 
 the assembly — the farmers' sons and daughters 
 of Somerton Paddocks. Mr. Possett led out 
 Miss Howard and placed himself at the top of 
 the first group, and then the First Set began with 
 a good deal of spirit, though it was not par- 
 ticularly remarkable for grace; except in the 
 instance of the young lady from Rose Cottage, 
 whose dancing united spirit and grace in a 
 manner that elicited the applause of all the 
 company. The apothecary was evidently very 
 proud of his partner, and his round bald pate 
 could be seen moving about in the mazes of the 
 dance — like nothing so much as a head carved 
 out of a cherry stone, seen through a powerful 
 magnifying glass*
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 135 
 
 Mrs. Howard was comfortably seated in one 
 of the arm-chairs, with her attentive hostess in 
 the other, to whose conversation, a-propos to 
 nothing in particular, though she appeared to 
 be listening with the most profound attention, 
 her ears were less inclined, than were her eyes 
 to the buoyant movements of her daughter. 
 Her features had parted with that expression of 
 pain and apprehension which had marked them 
 on her first entering the place, for she had 
 satisfied herself that there was nothing to fear ; 
 and that therefore she could with security 
 abandon herself to the genuine happiness to be 
 derived from watching the happiness of her 
 child. 
 
 Dr. Beauclerk had already contrived to make 
 himself feel quite at home, notwithstanding that 
 it was a place to which he had hitherto been 
 a stranger. A ball-room most probably he 
 would have cared very little about — even if he 
 thought it worthy of his observation; but as the 
 scene of a great moral regeneration, which, since
 
 136 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 he had heard the apothecary's representation 
 of what transpired at these reunions, he re- 
 garded Farmer Hawthorn's barn, he felt that he 
 could remain there without compromising either 
 his personal dignity or his sacred calHng. 
 
 Consequently, he readily reconciled himself 
 to the hardness of his seat on one of the benches, 
 whilst he delivered to his auditors an extremely 
 edifying discourse, touching the benefits to be 
 derived to the great family of man by the cul- 
 tivation of that pleasant communion which he 
 now beheld with such infinite satisfaction. 
 Farmer Hawthorn now and then put in a word 
 expressive of his gratitude, his respect, his in- 
 clination to do good, and his desire to make his 
 friends comfortable ; but it was the vocation of 
 the reverend doctor to preach, and whenever he 
 availed himself of such an opportunity as the 
 present, anything resembling conversation was 
 not to be thought of. 
 
 The quadrille being over, and a short breath- 
 ing time having been allowed the dancers, (in
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 137 
 
 which the Uttle medico appeared to be in re- 
 quest in every portion of the space within the 
 walls,) the great attraction of the evening — the 
 country dance, was called; and then there was 
 a general move, for it was a dance in which 
 every one was expected to join. This rule, how- 
 ever, is far from uncommon; but there was 
 another which obtained in Farmer Hawthorn's 
 barn, that was rarely if ever practised in any 
 other ball-room. 
 
 The better to work out Mr. Possett's new 
 social system, the greatest folks invariably had 
 the humblest partners. In pursuance of this 
 regulation, the aristocratic-looking Mrs. Howard 
 found herself obliged to stand up with a great 
 clodhopper in a dark smock-fi'ock and hob- 
 nailed ankle-boots, whose ordinary business was 
 to keep the birds off the corn; her beautiful 
 daughter found her vis-a-vis in a curly headed 
 plough-boy in his Sunday's velveteen jacket and 
 corduroy smalls — the jolly farmer took his 
 kitchen maid — his wife stood up with John the
 
 138 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 carter — Miss found a partner in the blacksmith's 
 apprentice — Mr. Possett put up with a little 
 orphan from the village school; and the rest of 
 the company were similarly provided for. The 
 only persons who did not stand up, were Dr. 
 Beauclerk and some half-dozen aged people, 
 too infirm to join in such an amusement. 
 
 The fiddler struck up an enlivening tune, and 
 then commenced a scene of '^ rural felicity," 
 such as could scarcely be paralleled in any other 
 country. All ordinary notions of etiquette and 
 decorum were dead letters here; every one 
 enjoying him or herself to the utmost, and all en- 
 couraging their immediate neighbours. Many 
 a good hearty laugh burst from the happy la- 
 bourers, male and female, as their employers, 
 with a monstrous affectation of politeness or 
 gravity, skipped with their respective partners 
 between the two lines of dancers; and many a 
 shout of applause was set up as some awkward 
 lout and aged grand-dame made unusual ex- 
 ertions to show their agility.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 139 
 
 In such a scene, as might be expected, there 
 were ample materials for a chapter on heads of 
 the most diversified character; for they were of 
 all hues and sizes, and of every possible degree 
 of cultivation, from the rough flaxen poll of the 
 farm labourer, to the highly Macassared ring- 
 lets of the farmer's daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Howard's partner did not trouble her 
 with any attempts at conversation. In fact, he 
 was in a fright, did not dare to look up to her 
 fiice, and was only kept from upsetting every- 
 body by the care his lady took to make him go 
 through the proper figure. Miranda's compa- 
 nion was rather more ambitious, and not so 
 easily daunted; having stared with all his might 
 at the lovely countenance before him, he wished 
 to recommend himself by a little pleasant 
 talk. 
 
 His powers of conversation, unfortunately, 
 happened to be limited, and Miss Howard was 
 much siu-prised, during a pause in the dance, to 
 hear him address her in the scarcely intelHgible
 
 140 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 patois of that part of the country, with an in- 
 quiry as to whether she had seen Farmer Haw- 
 thorn's bull. On her replying that she had not 
 yet had that pleasure, the clown exclaimed, a 
 trifle more to her astonishment, " Dang ma 
 bootuns, if he beant a rum'un !" 
 
 As she did not think it necessary to deny this, 
 Hodge seemed to have nothing more to say 
 about the bull; and silence ensued for a few 
 minutes. He again stared at the beautiful fea- 
 tures of his partner, and again essayed to com- 
 mence a conversation. 
 
 " What dost thee think o' the old sow ?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 This was a puzzler; as 'among the young 
 lady's acquaintances there was no one answering 
 that description. She therefore told him that 
 she knew no old sow, and consequently must be 
 excused from thinking upon such a subject. 
 
 " What! not know meastcr's old sow !" ex- 
 claimed Hodge, opening his wide mouth, and 
 fixing his great eyes upon her with a look of
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 141 
 
 mingled incredulity and pity — " why every 
 body knows she !" 
 
 Miss Howard politely regretted being behind 
 the intelligence of the neighbourhood. 
 
 " She be in the sty most days, miss," said the 
 boy. His fair partner thanked him for the in- 
 formation. *' But she wont be there long, 
 neither," he added, " for measter says he be a 
 going to make beacon of her; and jolly fat 
 beacon she'll make too — dang'd if she wont !" 
 
 Miranda w^as not in a position to deny this 
 emphatic statement, and there was another 
 pause. Fortunately she was soon afterwards 
 obliged to resume the figure, and her swain took 
 so long considering what he should next talk 
 about, that the dance came to an end before he 
 could settle the matter to his satisfaction. 
 
 The dancers now resumed their seats, where- 
 ever any were to be found: and conversation 
 became general ; though, in consequence of the 
 presence of the gentry, it was more subdued than 
 usual among the more communicative. Re-
 
 142 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 freshments also made their appearance; on 
 these occasions the farmer invariably supplying 
 good home-brewed and cider, and his wife as 
 liberal a supply of wholesome plain cake. The 
 first was now handed round in horns, the latter 
 in baskets. 
 
 The great folks who had honoured the dance 
 that evening, it appeared, were to be differently 
 provided for; for decanters with wine and 
 glasses, and a poundcake, with a plate of small 
 biscuits, now made their appearance on very gay- 
 looking tea-boards. Mrs. Hawthorn invited the 
 ladies to taste her currant wine, and Mr. Possett 
 recommended it as the finest in the countr}^ 
 
 Dr. Beauclerk graciously acknowledged that 
 he had heard of its reputation, and then, in a 
 set speech, he proposed the health of the farmer, 
 his wife, family, and friends, in which he made 
 due acknowledgments of the goodness of Provi- 
 dence for allowing them to be the instruments 
 of the happiness he had had the satisfaction of 
 witnessing that evening.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 143 
 
 The farmer, in his usual homely way, ex- 
 pressed his thanks, and hoped it would not be 
 the last time his reverence would honour his 
 folk with his company. His good dame was 
 equally urgent with the ladies to come to the 
 barn whenever they had a mind, adding that 
 she trusted also to see them at the farm, where 
 both her and her daughter would be proud to 
 entertain them at all times. 
 
 The little apothecary took upon himself to 
 answer for all, and accepted the invitation as 
 cordially as it was given, vowing for the 
 hundredth time that nothing could be so bene- 
 ficial to the human frame as a little dance like 
 this got up amongst neighbours and friends, 
 and then diverged into a statement of the 
 marvellous cures he had effected by his new 
 system, and the very healthy state of the district, 
 caused entirely by the care he had taken to 
 make such amusements popular. 
 
 Miranda sipped her wine, and tried to ingra- 
 tiate herself with Miss Hawthorn and the young
 
 144 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 girls nearest to her, but they were not suf- 
 ficiently at their ease to do justice to her 
 amiable intentions. Possibly the presence of 
 Dr. Beauclerk may have been a restraint upon 
 them, for they said very little; indeed, did 
 scarcely anything beyond staring at her from 
 top to toe, as if they wanted an inventory of her 
 clothes. 
 
 One or two hornpipes, and about as many 
 reels, were danced before Mrs. Howard and her 
 daughter took their departure, when there im- 
 mediately recommenced thanks and invitations, 
 on the part of the host and hostess, and ac- 
 knowledgments and expressions of gratification 
 on the part of their guests. 
 
 " Well, I am so delighted mamma !" ex- 
 claimed Miss Howard, as she was returning 
 home with her mother, their way lighted by a 
 bright moon; " I could not have imagined that an 
 entertainment of such a nature could be rendered 
 so agreeable. I hope we shall go there again,"
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 145 
 
 Mrs. Howard paused. She felt a difficulty in 
 deciding. It was clear that her previous ap- 
 prehensions had been removed. He was not 
 at all a person likely to be met with in such 
 assemblies. Still, a misgiving presented itself 
 before her, that Miss Hawthorn and the young 
 ladies of her acquaintance w^ere not the most 
 proper associates she could have chosen for her 
 daughter. She asked herself, " Who, then, 
 were her proper associates?" A dark cloud 
 again passed over her countenance. It evi- 
 dently distressed her extremely to be obliged to 
 determine that in persons of such uncongenial 
 habits and manners, Miranda must look for the 
 society natural to her position in life. She 
 walked on in painful silence, and her daughter, 
 finding that her mother was not in the mood to 
 enter into her feelings, did not again venture to 
 allude to their new friends. 
 
 After Dr. Beauclerk and Mr. Posse tt had 
 left the ladies at the cottage, they proceeded to 
 their own homes — the former oppressed with 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 feelings to which he did not feel justified in 
 giving utterance to his companion; and the 
 latter, on the contrary, in the best possible 
 spirits with himself and everybody — now dwell- 
 ing on the manifold benefits to be derived 
 from the universal practice of the saltant art, 
 and now breaking out into enthusiastic praises 
 of Mrs. Howard and her daughter. 
 
 More than once the reverend doctor asked 
 himself, ** Shall I tell this man who they are?" 
 He felt that a trustworthy confidant would be 
 invaluable to him ; but he could not satisfy him- 
 self that his new friend was the sort of character 
 to whom he ought to confide so precious a 
 secret as he possessed. It was certain that he 
 was much esteemed by her whose esteem in his 
 eyes was the highest distinction ; but when so 
 much depended on the discretion of a man, it 
 was clear that he ought to be exceedingly 
 cautious as to where he made confidences. He 
 therefore made up his mind to say nothing 
 about them for the present,
 
 3Joo6 tf)t ^ftivft. 
 
 DIDDLETON, 
 
 h2
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 149 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NEW BELINDA. 
 
 The great commercial city of Diddleton was in 
 a great stir. The wealthy John Snobson, 
 citizen and mercer, had been chosen to 
 fill its highest civic appointment. Diddleton, 
 it should be remembered, had once been the 
 London of that part of the kingdom. It still 
 boasted of a corporation closely resembling that 
 of the capital, and in no point more nearly than 
 in retaining at the head of its functionaries a 
 personage bearing the high-sounding title of 
 " Lord Mayor." 
 
 That day John Snobson entered upon his 
 duties, and vast were the rejoicings that arose
 
 150 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 in the busy streets of this money-making city, 
 at the corporation having made so proper an 
 election. There did not seem to be a dis- 
 sentient voice — for though those respectable 
 tradesmen, Messrs. Saxony and Kerseymere, 
 had never forgiven the trick his lordship had 
 played them when quitting their service; as 
 both had removed from this v^^icked world to a 
 better, he was not likely to be molested with 
 their opinions. 
 
 John Snobson had already been " my lord"-ed 
 to his heart's content, and it must be said of him 
 that he took his honours as if he felt an assur- 
 ance that they were no more than his due. He 
 had managed that his prosperity should be con- 
 nected in a great measure with the prosperity 
 of this great commercial city, and it would have 
 been difficult for the, of course " free and en- 
 lightened, citizens" to have pointed out an indi- 
 vidual dwelling amongst them, who had more ait 
 stake in their extensive money-making institu- 
 tions than their new Lord Mayor.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 151 
 
 How many old buildings he owned, how 
 many new had been built at his expense, how 
 many shares he possessed in this public com- 
 pany, what portion he owned of that productive 
 manufacture, in how many sources of profit he 
 had largely invested, it was scarcely possible for 
 the most knowing of his brother citizens to be 
 accurately informed; and though there was a 
 rumour in the city that his lordship commenced 
 business with only a small capital, few would 
 have credited that it was originally so minute, 
 that the most inconsiderable tradesman in 
 Diddleton would have despised it as a loan, 
 and been careless about it as a deposit. 
 
 But what relationship was there between the 
 lean and melancholy John Snobson sitting on his 
 deal box, the undoubted proprietor only of one 
 shilling, the same number of sixpences, and of 
 five pence three farthings in copper, and my 
 Lord Mayor of Diddleton, with plump face and 
 portly coi-poration, sitting in his robes of office, 
 and enjoying the reputation of being possessed
 
 152 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 of at least three quarters of a million ster- 
 ling? 
 
 When the peals of the numerous bells of 
 Diddleton were announcing to the citizens the 
 important intelligence that the lord paramount 
 of their great commercial city had commenced 
 his term of civic dignity, "my lord,'' as he passed 
 along the well known streets in the handsome 
 equipage he had provided for the occasion, could 
 not avoid recalling to his mind his sensations 
 when he first entered those streets on his way 
 to the house of business in which his poor father, 
 with the assistance of the Axminster family, 
 had put him apprentice. 
 
 Coming from such a village as Mill-street, he 
 had stared at the long rows of great houses and 
 great shops in Diddleton, wondering how so 
 many people could carry on business in one 
 place — many being of the same trade, and living 
 within a very short distance of each other. 
 Since that time such buildings had been greatly 
 on the iucreasc, and the competition in the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 153 
 
 town had advanced with its prosperity. His 
 lordship smiled as he recollected how he had 
 distanced in the race his excellent employers 
 Messrs. Kerseymere and Saxony, and how far 
 he had contrived to get in advance of many 
 other worthy citizens who had started before him. 
 
 Did he think of the parent, who had deprived 
 the rest of his family of their natural comforts, 
 that his eldest son should have sufficient school- 
 ing to be able to push his way in the ^Yorld 
 with a fair chance of success ; and had devoted 
 to his exclusive benefit when binding him 
 apprentice, funds which might have been of the 
 greatest assistance to him in the new world to 
 which he found himself obliged to transfer his 
 services ? 
 
 He was now in a condition to repay with 
 ample interest the sacrifices by which he had 
 attained his present elevation. But *' my lord" 
 did not give the matter a thought. He had 
 long ceased to think of those who had shared 
 with him the privations of the poor overlooker's 
 H 3
 
 154 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 miserable dwelling. He would, no doubt, have 
 been more pleased than otherwise, to hear that 
 the grave had raised up between them a more 
 secure barrier than his riches; and not having 
 heard from either of them for many years, 
 he was willing to believe that the consumma- 
 tion so devoutly to be wished, had really taken 
 place. 
 
 Poverty, in any shape, is abominable to the 
 rich man, but in the shape of a poor relation, it 
 is hideous ; and the more so when he has had a 
 thousand struggles to raise himself above the 
 straitened circumstances he now cannot en- 
 dure. The example of Dives and Lazarus has 
 been written in vain ; for the first has left many 
 successors: few, however, so perfect in their 
 parts as the Lord Mayor of Diddle ton. He 
 gazed at the Lazaruses that thronged his tri- 
 umphant chariot wheels, with an unpitying eye. 
 He had no thoughts for his struggling brethren 
 in the new world ; he therefore could not be 
 expected to entertain any sympathy for his im-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 155 
 
 poverished fellow-creatures, even though in his 
 immediate neighbourhood. 
 
 Nevertheless, the new Lord Mayor enjoyed 
 the reputation of being a charitable man. For 
 he subscribed largely to the County Hospital — 
 was a liberal contributor to the funds for the 
 relief of aged and poor mercers, and his name 
 might be found in every list of subscriptions for 
 the philanthropic establishments of Diddleton. 
 But these things were patent to the world. 
 They were blazoned forth in the columns of the 
 county paper, which proclaimed through the 
 loudest of Fame's brass trumpets, that Snobson 
 must be the richest man in the city. This 
 brought him additional influence and considera- 
 tion. In short, to use his favourite phrase, it 
 was a kind of charity that might always be made 
 to pay. As to being benevolent in an obscure 
 way — relieving the wants of the necessitous, 
 when it was not likely to get mentioned in the 
 papers, or doing anything'whatever to lessen the 
 immense extent of suffering caused by the un-
 
 l56 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 equal distribution of wealth that existed almost 
 everywhere, he would just as soon have thought 
 of striking a docket against himself. 
 
 Yet this man went to church with tolerable 
 regularity, and had been seen to look at his 
 prayer-book. If he had heard the great truth 
 properly expounded to him, that ^' It is easier 
 for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, 
 than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of 
 God," he must have regarded it in much the 
 same light he looked at some of the declarations 
 so familiar to readers of legal parchment. 
 
 This though, be it remembered, is not the text 
 commonly given out for the edification of lord 
 mayors of wealthy corporations, by their obse- 
 quious chaplains : and that day, the worthy man 
 who had had the honour of preaching before his 
 lordship and the court of aldermen, did his 
 spiriting as gently as such a congregation could 
 desire. He did not exactly tell them that they 
 would infallibly go to heaven by virtue of their 
 office : or that v/hen there they would meet with
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 157 
 
 better investments and finer turtle than they 
 could obtain in this wicked world; but he knew 
 his place better than to attempt to disabuse their 
 minds, had they entertained such an impression, 
 and after they had listened to a discourse about 
 twenty minutes in length, illustrative of the 
 moral degradation of the poor, they left the 
 church with a very respectable opinion of the 
 reverend gentleman, and a highly satisfactory 
 one of themselves. 
 
 And my Lady Mayoress — how did she con- 
 duct herself under such an accession of honours? 
 Truly, as if she had been born with the dignity. 
 In her, the flower of civic grandeur had become 
 full blown writh the first sunbeam that illumined 
 Lord Mayor's Day. But the privileges of her 
 exalted position she was inclined to take more 
 as a right than as a courtesy. She had issued 
 orders to the servants, that all, from the butler 
 to the kitchen wrench, should, on peril of being 
 immediately dismissed, style her "my lady," 
 whether speaking to her, or of her: whilst their
 
 158 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 master was to be called " my lord," on similar 
 occasions. 
 
 The only regret she felt was, that her 
 daughter could receive no portion of her 
 nobility — she could only be Miss Snobson. If 
 she could have insisted on her being called 
 " Lady Jane Snobson," or even " the Honour- 
 able Miss Snobson," she should have been 
 better satisfied; but as the case stood, the only 
 thing left for her to do was to dress her as fine 
 as she could, that her appearance might accord 
 with the exalted position of her parents. 
 
 Poor Jane would rather a thousand times 
 have remained in some quiet room with her 
 books or her toys, for she was a girl of a shy 
 and reserved nature, notwithstanding the re- 
 peated attempts of her mother to instil, what 
 she called " right notions" into her. Unfortu- 
 nately, Miss Snobson was very backward in her 
 education, particularly with reference to the 
 article of " right notions," and it seemed to her 
 better informed parent that the more she taught
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 159 
 
 her the less she knew. There was consolation, 
 however, in being aware that the young lady 
 was as yet but a child, and the Lady Mayoress 
 felt assured that when she grew up, she would 
 have the sense to show people that she knew 
 whose daughter she was, and could conduct 
 herself accordingly. 
 
 These consolatory impressions entered her 
 mind as she was sitting in her dressing-room 
 before a mirror large enough to exhibit the 
 whole of her facial attractions at one view, 
 whilst a tall, gaunt, sharp-nosed Abigail was 
 preparing her head-dress for the grand banquet 
 and bail that invariably, at Diddle ton, con- 
 cluded the festivities of Lord Mayor's Day. 
 
 On the floor, at a little distance, sat a girl of 
 about twelve years of age, in frock and trowsers 
 — plain in features, and quiet in manners, who 
 was amusing herself in building up houses of 
 cards, which, though tumbling down before half 
 completed, were built up again by her without 
 the slightest sign of impatience or displeasure.
 
 160 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 On the table before the Lad^^ Mayoress were 
 articles of jewellery and of decoration for the 
 head, with the usual toilet appurtenances — on 
 the chairs were the dress thrown off and the one 
 to be put on, with gloves, handkerchief, fan, 
 smelling-bottle, and a variety of other trifles 
 which no Lady Mayoress could by any possi- 
 bility do without. 
 
 Her ladyship occupied herself, when not 
 talking at her child or to her handmaid, in play- 
 ing with her jewellery, taking her rings on and 
 off, examining her bracelets, and polishing the 
 stones of her necklace. If the lad}^ had one 
 weakness, it had taken the shape of a love of 
 finery. Before she was mistress of Stingo 
 House she was obliged to be satisfied with a few 
 things of inconsiderable value — mock stones and 
 fictitious gold. They, however, served to make 
 a show — which was what she desired. After 
 she became the wife of so wealthy a man as her 
 first husband, she felt it incumbent on her to 
 have a gold watch at her side, and a gold chain
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 161 
 
 round her neck; still she indulged in cheap 
 jewellery, and was a great patroness of Brum- 
 magem trinkets. 
 
 During her widowhood, and since her second 
 marriage, her taste had been advancing with 
 her means. She cared less for Birmingham 
 ingenuity — she was even getting tired of French 
 taste — she had began to love the solid and 
 valuable. The massive brooch, the heavy ear- 
 rings, the gorgeous bracelets, necklaces and 
 rings of real stones, and chains of the heaviest 
 links and of the purest gold, had now become 
 the objects of her preference ; and, having pro- 
 vided herself with a handsome collection, she 
 determined that it should be said of her, that no 
 Lady Mayoress ever was known to have ex- 
 hibited so many fine things. 
 
 Her abigail evidently penetrated the thoughts 
 of her mistress, for she said, " I know them as 
 will be a'most ready to die with envy when they 
 see your ladyship adorned with all these beau- 
 tiful ihinjifs."
 
 162 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 The lady mayoress was trying on a brace- 
 let, and did not make any reply. 
 
 " There's Mrs. Winks, the lady mayoress as 
 was," continued the waiting-woman ; " I'm 
 told all the jewellery she ever had was her 
 husband's picture set in gold, and her wedding 
 ring." 
 
 The lady mayoress threw up her nose with 
 an immense expression of contempt. 
 
 " And though the wife of Alderman Baggs, as 
 is next in rotation, does sometimes make a bit of 
 a show, I knows for certain as it all comes from 
 a cheap Bazaar shop." 
 
 The lady mayoress smiled with ineffable dis- 
 dain, and glanced with increased satisfaction at 
 her real stones and pure gold settings ! 
 
 " There aint a lady in the corporation, — 
 even amongst those as is best off, — as can afford 
 to deck herself with genuine jewels such as you 
 has, my lady; and when your ladyship goes 
 amongst 'em, I should like nothing better than 
 to observe how they'll take your ladyship cut-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 163 
 
 ting them all out so, as your ladyship will be 
 sure to do." 
 
 " Mind, Betty, as that bird of Paradise is 
 securely fixed !" observed her mistress, as her 
 handmaid was placing a beautiful plume in her 
 head. 
 
 " Yes, my lady," replied the woman, rather 
 disappointed that her attack on the weak side of 
 her mistress had not been productive of more 
 effect. Nevertheless, her ladyship's pride had 
 been tickled quite as much as Betty could have 
 desired. Betty was not disheartened; pre- 
 sently she commenced the attack in another 
 quarter. 
 
 " There is only one thing, my lady, wanting 
 to make your ladyship's appearance, what, ac- 
 accordiug to my opinion, my lady, it ought to 
 be." 
 
 " Dear me, Bettyj what can there be want- 
 ing!" exclaimed the lady mayoress with an ex- 
 pression of vexation and distress. "I'm sure 
 I've been to no end of expense; and bought
 
 164 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 everything the man had, as he said was 
 proper for a lady in my position to wear." 
 
 " So you did, my lady. And I must say, in 
 my humble judgment, with great taste, too. 
 Indeed the man said as your ladyship selected 
 with better judgment than any customer he ever 
 had." 
 
 " Then, what in the world can I want to im- 
 prove my appearance, I should like to know ?" 
 asked her mistress, indignantly. 
 
 " Oh, nothing to improve, my lady — of course 
 not; but something as I, and every one as has 
 the happiness to serve your ladyship, would 
 wish to see you a wearing." 
 
 " Oh, indeed. Just be so good as to let me 
 know what it is ; and be careful in putting them 
 earrings into my ears." 
 
 " Yes, my lady." 
 
 " Well, what is it ?" 
 
 " Why, you see, my lady, as your ladyship 
 has a real lady's title, I'm a thinking it would 
 only be proper and natural that your ladyship
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 165 
 
 should have a real lady's ornament to her 
 head." 
 
 " Well, and haven't I?" inquired her mistress, 
 in genuine astonishment. " Aint birds of Para- 
 dise feathers — about the dearest things as can be, 
 I'm thinking — and a real tortoise-shell comb, 
 set round with pearls, for my back hair, orna- 
 ments for a real lady ?" 
 
 ** Undoubtedly, my lady ! But I is alluding 
 to quite a different sort of thing. I was speaking 
 of a coronet^ my lady." 
 
 There was a slight pause. The child looked 
 up from her fragile house — the lady adjusted 
 her rings, and the maid put the glittering pen- 
 dants in her mistress's ears, in perfect silence. 
 The fact was, the Lady Mayoress was aware, 
 while she endeavoured to shut her eyes to the 
 fact, that the wife of a provincial civic func- 
 tionary w^as not exactly a peeress, though the 
 style of address might be the same in both; yet 
 as she had once been satisfied with her Brum- 
 magem jewellery, she knew that she must be 
 equally so with her Diddleton title.
 
 166 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 " But though your ladyship hasn't got a 
 coronet, now," added Betty, in her most persua- 
 sive tones, " there's no knowing how soon your 
 ladyship may have one. From what I knows 
 of master — my lord, I mean — how all he touches 
 turns into gold, and what prodigious influence 
 he has " 
 
 « His lordship, Betty." 
 
 " I beg pardon — his lordship has — in ever so 
 many great public companies, I entertains no 
 manner of doubt, my lady, that it would be 
 easy for him — his lordship, I mean — to get into 
 Parliament. And then, everybody knows, that 
 getting from one House into the other is as easy 
 as can be, if the member makes himself of 
 sufficient importance in the eyes of the minis- 
 ter." 
 
 Her ladyship prided herself on being what is 
 called "sharp," especially in matters affecting her 
 own interests ; but she knew that Betty, whom 
 she had retained since her first marriage, was as 
 richly gifted with that quality as any woman 
 that ever came out of Yorkshire. The lady
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 167 
 
 mayoress confessed to herself, that in this in- 
 stance, what she had said was well worthy of 
 her attention, and determined, on the first op- 
 portunity, to suggest the thing to the lord 
 mayor, as if it was entirely her own idea. 
 
 " I quite agree with you, Betty, that ray lord 
 should get into parliament," she said at last, as 
 her maid was helping her on with her very 
 showy dress. " And I believe many gentlemen 
 have been made noblemen, as haven't possessed 
 half the claims to such a distinction as my lord 
 does." 
 
 Here the lady's attention was diverted from 
 her subject by the tumbfing down of her 
 daughter's house of cards. 
 
 " Miss Snobson, I'm astonished that you can 
 waste your time so foolishly," said her mother, 
 sharply. " Would any one ever believe as a 
 young lady so highly connected as yourself — 
 with such excellent prospects, too — instead of 
 wishing to go to the grand banquet, which is about 
 to be given in honour of my lord, your papa,
 
 168 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 or even to the grand ball which is to follow it, 
 where everybody as is anybody is sure to 
 appear, would prefer sitting in a corner by her- 
 self, with a lot of old playing cards, hour after 
 hour, a building up bits of baby houses, as a 
 breath of wind tumbles down in a minute." 
 
 The quiet girl looked up to her mother, but 
 instead of replying, resumed her fragile archi- 
 tecture. 
 
 " I must say as how it is very vexatious, my 
 lady," said the maid, putting forth all her 
 strength to form the necessary junction between 
 her mistress's hooks-and-eyes — " Miss Hop- 
 wood has made this body a little too tight, I 
 think, my lady," she added, as she again 
 essayed the by no means easy task. " I can't 
 get it to meet, nohow." 
 
 " Try again, Betty. Miss Hopwood knows 
 I don't like things to hang about me as if I was 
 in a sack ; and she says it's fashionable to fit 
 very tight." 
 
 The lady mayoress held in her breath, and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 169 
 
 her ladyship's handmaid employed her best 
 exertions; nevertheless, the hook would vexa- 
 tiously slip from her fingers, when it ought to 
 have gone into the loop that had been made for 
 it. Such repeated failures might have made 
 any one else despair; and the lady mayoress 
 was one of the most Impatient of her sex ; but 
 the laws of fashion must be obeyed, especially 
 on an occasion when " her ladyship" had deter- 
 mined to eclipse all the ladies of the corpora- 
 tion. 
 
 *' Drat it, Betty, how you do let it slip!" 
 
 " It's the most provokingest thing as is, my 
 lady; for I never lets go till I feels sure its 
 quite in; and directly as I lets go, it slips 
 out." 
 
 " Well, try again ; and don't let it go till you 
 are positively sure it's in." 
 
 " Yes, my lady." 
 
 The abigail pulled till the strain threatened 
 to burst the satin, and the lady mayoress held 
 in her breath till her broad fac? was purple, 
 
 VOL. I. \
 
 170 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and the perspiration stood upon it in big 
 drops. 
 
 " Well, ain't it in yet !" exclaimed her lady- 
 ship, in accents of distress. 
 
 " You must squeedge yourself in a little 
 more, my lady," answered the maid, holding on 
 as if it were a matter of life and death. 
 
 The poor lady mayoress strove hard to make 
 herself smaller, as she had been desired ; and 
 Betty strove equally hard to take advantage of 
 the slightest shrink her mistress might effect; 
 but for a long time the hook evaded going into 
 its proper receptacle. At last, when both were 
 nearly exhausted, by a dexterous jerk at the 
 right moment, the loop received its fastening. 
 Her ladyship sunk into a chair and panted for 
 breath. Betty reconciled her to the labour she 
 had undergone, by asserting that the body fitted 
 her as well as her own skin. It certainly dis- 
 played the ample proportions of her bust with 
 great effect; and as she gazed in the glass, 
 whilst wiping her hot face, she could not but
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 171 
 
 acknowledge that the dress fitted extremely 
 well, and that the satin and deep lace looked 
 vastly handsome. 
 
 By this time the child had again built up her 
 house, quite unregarded by the other occupants 
 of the chamber. She, however, had been more 
 observant of them than they had been of her, 
 and remained satisfied that there could be 
 nothing, in seeing a parcel of grand people 
 eating a grand dinner, worth the trouble that 
 was required to prepare for it. She had an 
 aversion to being dressed up fine, and being 
 stared at by a room full of company. In her 
 opinion, amusing herself quietly in her own 
 way was a great deal more pleasant. 
 
 At last, the lady mayoress had completed her 
 toilette, had contrived to get on her gloves — an 
 operation almost as difficult as fixing the refrac- 
 tory hook — had taken her pocket-handkerchief, 
 and opened it in a manner to display the lace at 
 the margin, and had possessed herself of her fan, 
 smelling-bottle, and houquct; then, with a few 
 I 2
 
 172 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 parting words to her daughter, which the 3'Oung 
 lady rose to receive, she sailed out of the door, 
 opened wide for her by the curtseying abigail, 
 and the quiet little girl immediately sunk on her 
 knees and resumed her favourite amusement.
 
 THE GOLDKN CALF. 173 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BANQUET. 
 
 It is not necessary that the reader should be 
 made acquainted with the entire bill of fare 
 provided for what was styled " The Lord 
 Mayor's Feast" at Diddleton. Provincial gorges 
 are not sufficiently unlike the metropolitan ones 
 to demand an enumeration of the tureens of 
 " real turtle," and all the other concomitants of 
 a corporation banquet. Suffice it to say, that 
 there was the usual profusion, and also the 
 usual confusion; for as with other entertain- 
 ments provided for the vulgar, the great attrac- 
 tion was to see the lions at feeding time, and it
 
 174 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 must be allowed that no animals appear so com- 
 pletely in their natural state as those which 
 figure in the civic menagerie. 
 
 All that is wanted to make the entertainment 
 thoroughly instructive, ii a keeper to go round 
 the tables, and explain in a popular manner the 
 proper name and nature of the occupant of 
 every chair. For instance, the attendant, armed 
 with a strong piked staff, might thus commence 
 with the head of the corporation : — 
 
 "Ladies and Gentlemen: This creature is 
 a remarkably fine specimen of an animal pe- 
 culiar to this country. He is a species, like the 
 Duck-billed Platibus and other curiosities in 
 natural history, that appears to be made up of 
 many others. He has the shop of a tradesman, 
 the bank book of a merchant, the equipage of a 
 nobleman, and the establishment of a prince. 
 There are but three known specimens in the 
 British Empire at this period, and as their 
 progeny never possess the characteristics of 
 the parent, this number has never been ex-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 175 
 
 ceeded. The present is considered a very good 
 specimen." — Here the animal is briskly stirred 
 up with the long staff, and he stretches himself 
 and yawns, and perhaps indulges in a prolonged 
 growl against some one whom he has been 
 taught to regard as an enemy to the corporation. 
 
 " As yet he has not come to his full growth, 
 Ladies and Gentlemen" — the man might con- 
 tinue — " still he is of very formidable dimen- 
 sions. His length and cu'cumference show him 
 to be an animal of prodigious power. His 
 pocket-book is often as full as the stomach of a 
 shark, and its contents are not less various. 
 The chief seat of the circulation is the waist- 
 coat pocket, which is generally in a very active 
 state of operation. He is considered to possess 
 great sagacity — will eat the food placed before 
 him as if he liked it, and drink whenever his 
 favourite fluid is put in his way. He is easily 
 tamed, and has been known to live for a great 
 number of years." 
 
 " The next. Ladies and Gentlemen," the
 
 176 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 keeper would say, "is a very fine specimen." 
 He is poked up, and is then seen to be of 
 goodly proportions round the stomach and 
 across the chest, having a bald head, with large, 
 fat ears, with a reddish face inclining to purple, 
 in which the most marked feature is a nose, 
 resembling a mushroom with the fleshy part 
 outside. 
 
 " He is found in great numbers in England 
 and Ireland, but only in corporate towns or 
 cities, though some have been discovered in the 
 autumn, straying as far from their proper lo- 
 cality as the fashionable watering places. He 
 is mostly fed on venison and turtle, but will eat 
 white-bait when hard pressed by hunger. He 
 is gregarious, and thrives extremely on corpora- 
 tion funds, parish monies, and all other pro- 
 perties which happen to fall in his way ; indeed, 
 instances have been known where this animal 
 having once got a gripe of some extremely well 
 endowed charity, has held on with the tenacity 
 of a bull-dog, so that it was scarcely possible to
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 177 
 
 make bini let go without knocking him on the 
 head with a Chancery Suit." 
 
 Afterwards the showman would describe the 
 sheriff, recorder, remembrancer, treasurer, com- 
 mon Serjeant, common councilman, chaplain, and 
 the other specimens of the civic menagerie, till 
 he had gone through the list, and the spectator 
 had been made acquainted, in every instance, with 
 the creature's habits, instincts, and characteristics. 
 The entertainment might be heightened by 
 some civic Carter, the Beast Tamer, or corpo- 
 ration Van Amburgh, the lion King, showing 
 the command he had acquired over such crea- 
 tures, by making the biggest of the aldermen 
 crouch playfully at his feet, whilst the high 
 sheriff reared against him, resting his tremen- 
 dous paws upon his shoulders. The exhibition 
 would of course conclude with the unparalleled 
 feat of the performer opening the prodigious 
 jaws of the Lord Mayor, and thrusting his head 
 between his terrible rows of teeth. 
 
 My business, at present, however, is with the 
 i3
 
 1/0 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 feeding time at the menagerie at Diddleton — 
 the reader therefore will have the goodness to 
 imagine a very large apartment, fitted up in the 
 best civic taste, " regardless of expense," where 
 long rows of tables were covered with innu- 
 merable dishes supplied with tempting viands — 
 a row of plates flanked by knives and forks 
 went along each side of each table, and before 
 them sat the company. 
 
 Amongst them might be observed round 
 heads and long heads; sleek heads and rough 
 heads; bald heads and grey heads; fat heads 
 and bony heads; foolish heads and wise heads; 
 indeed, heads of all sorts, sizes, and dimensions. 
 
 At the cross table, at the top of the room, sat 
 the civic magnates, with certain of their friends, 
 whom they had honoured with an invitation — 
 the most conspicuous of the former of course 
 being the lord mayor, although it must be 
 allowed that the lady mayoress had taken care 
 to make herself equally prominent. They all 
 seemed desirous of doing justice to the good
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 179 
 
 things set before them, or to such dishes as the 
 servants, in their new Hveries, brought for their 
 approval, and the display they made of their 
 several appetites was very edifying. Due atten- 
 tion was also paid to the wines during the 
 dinner — the gentlemen challenging the ladies, 
 and the ladies, with true civic affability, answer- 
 ing immediately by raising their glasses, and 
 declining their heads. 
 
 In this sort of distinction, the lady mayoress 
 was pre-eminent, for almost every gentleman 
 thought himself entitled to such an honour, and 
 they included all the high functionaries of 
 Diddleton, as well as the guests of greatest con- 
 sequence. Indeed, in such request was her 
 ladyship, that scarcely had she restored her 
 glass to its place, when a message was mys- 
 teriously whispered into her ear by her servant, 
 the individual who had sent it — probably from 
 the extremity of the table — raising himself, and 
 bowing as soon at he succeeded in catching her 
 eye 5 then the bird of Paradise was seen to sweep
 
 180 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 forwards and then backwards, and the glass was 
 again lifted to her lips and replaced on the 
 table, till the arrival of another mysterious 
 whisper, and then the whole ceremony had to 
 be repeated. 
 
 In due time the dinner was over, as far as 
 the substantial were concerned — the innu- 
 merable dishes were removed, and nothing 
 appeared on the table but the wine and the 
 fruits, cakes, and biscuits, that composed the 
 dessert. The singers went through the usual 
 grace, and at its conclusion the new lord mayor, 
 amid a general movement of applause, was 
 observed to rise from his handsome gilt chair, 
 bearing in his physiognomy unmistakable evi- 
 dence of an impending speech. His lordship 
 was satisfied, on this occasion, with rather a 
 modest display of his oratorical talent, for he 
 confined himself to the expression of a few 
 loyal phrases, at the end of which he proposed 
 the licalth of the Queen. 
 
 Tile toast-iiiuijter, from the back of the Lord
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 1 1 8 
 
 Mayor's chair, having thundered out this toast, 
 it was drunk with the usual honours ; the other 
 loyal toasts followed, and then the lord mayor 
 again rose, looking a good deal more the speaker 
 than at first, and when he had floundered about 
 for some ten minutes, in the usual after-dinner 
 rigmarole, he gave " Her Majesty's Ministers." 
 A very unassuming, quiet-looking man, whose 
 appearance might have caused him to be over- 
 looked in such an assemblage, now rose from his 
 scat, on the right hand side of the Lord Mayor's 
 chair. On his rising, there was a good deal of 
 applause, with much audible whispering, that 
 he was the celebrated Lord Poppetts, who held 
 a Cabinet appointment, and was one of the 
 members of the county. 
 
 His lordship, in returning thanks, said as 
 much as he could in a short time respecting 
 Diddleton and its corporation; then having 
 eulogised the present lord mayor, in terms time 
 out of mind appropriated by such men for such 
 occaaions, he proposed his lordship's health.
 
 82 TUE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 The applause now was very great indeed, for the 
 worthy citizens were aware that they had two 
 objects in view in bestowing it — one was to 
 applaud the distinguished speaker, and the 
 other display their chief's popularity. 
 
 The Lord Mayor rose — to his credit be it 
 said, trying to look modest and humble; but 
 whether it was that nature had not formed him 
 to wear such unassuming qualities, he did not 
 satisfy the well-informed observer that he was 
 at all wanting in a thoroughly good opinion of, 
 and perfect confidence in, himself. He began 
 with expressing his general unworthiness of the 
 honour that had been conferred upon him by 
 his fellow-citizens and by Lord Poppetts, and 
 having paid a fitting tribute to the public 
 services of that great statesman, he professed 
 his ardent desire to fill the duties of the high 
 position in which he had been placed, with as 
 much dignity as had been displayed by his 
 predecessor : ending with proposing the health 
 of " the late Lord Mayor."
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 183 
 
 A plain, quaker-likc little man now rose, 
 with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his waist- 
 coat, looking as if he had hardly reconciled 
 himself to the loss of the honours he had enjoyed 
 for the last twelvemonths. He was an eminent 
 builder in Diddleton, and had contracted for 
 nearly all the important public works that had 
 been erected in the county for the last ten 
 years. He briefly returned thanks, being wise 
 enough to know that with the termination of 
 his mayoralty, ended the charm of his eloquence. 
 He concluded with proposing **General Sir 
 Willoughby Griffin and the British Army." 
 
 A very white-headed old officer in uniform, 
 with his left eye covered with a piece of black 
 silk, and with an empty sleeve, left his seat, and 
 his rising was greeted with unequivocal marks 
 of interest. It is believed that he made a 
 speech, because his mouth was seen to open 
 and shut ; but in consequence of his having lost 
 his teeth, he was perfectly inaudible from 
 beginning to end. There was a great deal of
 
 184 THE GOLDEN CAI.F. 
 
 applause at the conclusion ; but it was only when 
 the lord mayor rose to return thanks for Sir 
 Willoughby Griffin's having proposed the health 
 of the Lady Mayoress, that any one knew for 
 what purpose Sir Willoughby had been opening 
 his mouth. 
 
 Then followed " Admiral Holystone and the 
 Navy ;" and a bluff old gentleman, with a sten- 
 torian voice, shouted his thanks like a boatswain 
 giving orders in a storm. He gave the health 
 of •' the late Lady Mayoress" in a manner that 
 must have frightened more than it could have 
 gratified that very quiet, quaker-like old gentle- 
 woman. 
 
 More toasts followed, succeeded by more 
 speeches, which occasioned the consumption of 
 a good deal of wine; and the company became 
 very demonstrative, and the speakers waxed 
 more and more eloquent. Lord Poppetts was 
 paying marked attention to the lady mayoress, 
 who was smirking and bridling and laughing 
 and '' luy lord "-ing, in the happiest state of
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 185 
 
 consciousness that she had not only completely 
 thrown into the shade, by her superior magnifi- 
 cence, the most dressy ladies present, but had 
 engrossed the attention of so distinguished a 
 man as Lord Poppetts. What feelings her 
 ladyship excited in the breast of that nobleman 
 it is not necessary now to state; those that in- 
 fluenced her female friends may be judged by 
 the conversation that took place between the 
 lady of Alderman Pugsby, a great carpet manu- 
 facturer, and the wife of Mr. Jonathan Wigsby, 
 the leading lawyer in Diddleton. 
 
 " Isn't she amusing ?" whispered the lawyer's 
 lady, striving to suppress a burst of tittering. 
 " Now, my dear Mrs. Pugsby, do look at her. 
 Could you imagine anything so ridiculous ?" 
 
 " No, my dear Mrs. Wigsby," replied the 
 alderman's lady, evidently in an equally mirthful 
 mood; "I declare 'tis as good as a play to watch 
 her. Indeed, I am quite sure that I have seen 
 nothing at the theatre half so entertaining. 
 What with her stupcuduous size, her gaudy style
 
 186 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 of dressing, and her shocking vulgar manners, 
 I think there never could have existed a woman 
 so ill fitted to move in a high sphere." 
 
 It should be understood that these self-elected 
 judges of gentility did not possess in their ap- 
 pearance anything very remarkable in the way of 
 refinement—Mrs. Wigsby being a plain, middle- 
 aged, red-faced woman, whose mother was the 
 well-known landladj^ of the Woolpack Tavern ; 
 and Mrs. Pugsby, though a rather pretty little bru- 
 nette, as might be guessed by some peculiarities 
 in her pronunciation, was perfectly uneducated; 
 the truth was, that previously to being Mr. 
 Pugsby's wife, she had been Mr. Pugsby's cook ; 
 and the cares of a large establishment had 
 hitherto prevented her supplying the deficien- 
 cies of her youth. 
 
 " What extravagance, to be sure !" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Wigsby. " Look at that satin ! It stands 
 an end! And that lace ! It can't be less than 
 half-a-guinea a yard, if it's a farthing ! And 
 that bird of Paradise !"
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 187 
 
 " Yes, but my dear," said the other lady, with 
 much expression, " some people the finer they 
 dresses the worser they looks." 
 
 " Very true," replied the tavern-keeper's 
 daughter, in a coaxino; tone. " And then all 
 those jewels — Birmingham ware, I've no doubt 
 — for all isn't gold as glitters, as you know, 
 dear." 
 
 " They are no more like gold than chalk's 
 like cheese,*' observed Mrs. Pugsby, in an ora- 
 cular way. " I'd wager any money, almost, as 
 they're nothing but copper-gilt and coloured 
 stones, such as Jew pedlars sells to poor igno- 
 rant girls as knows no better." 
 
 She might have added, such as the travelling 
 jewellers she mentioned often disposed of to 
 herself, before her elevation from the kitchen; 
 but she carefully forgot everything that had hap- 
 pened to her previously to her marriage. 
 
 " I do think, too, that the creature's rouged!" 
 added Mrs. Wigsby. 
 
 " Up to her eyes !" said her friend.
 
 188 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 " Weil, to be sure!" exclaimed the other, in- 
 dignantly; " I wonder she isn't ashamed at her 
 time of life of making such an exhibition of her- 
 self. And only see how she ogles and smirks at 
 that Lord Whatdyecall'em sitting next to her ! 
 It's extremely improper, in my opinion, and 
 which no modest woman would think of doing." 
 
 " But, my dear Mrs. Wigsby, nobody ever 
 was so unjust as to accuse her of having too 
 much modesty." 
 . " I can't say as I ever heard any one." 
 
 They both tittered. 
 
 " Any more than of having too much beauty," 
 added the first. 
 
 " Which ain't a bit more likely than the 
 other," was the rejoinder. 
 
 The tittering was of course renewed, and the 
 conversation continued for some little time 
 longer, during which it appeared to be the 
 opinion of both, that the conduct of the lady 
 mayoress as little accorded with good morals, as 
 her dress accorded with good taste ; and it
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. , 189 
 
 seemed to be also their opinion, that the re- 
 spect tbcy owed themselves should make them 
 refrain from countenancing such a person a bit 
 more than they could help. 
 
 Just as they had come to this conclusion, a 
 movement was observed at the principal table. 
 The lord mayor and lady mayoress rose, 
 every one else rose, as a matter of course : the 
 more distinguished part of the company now 
 disappeared through a side-door at the top of 
 the room, and as the lady mayoress's ball was 
 almost as great an attraction, with the citizens 
 of Diddleton, as the lord mayor's dinner, in a 
 short time only such persons remained at the 
 tables as had no taste for dancing, but a decided 
 one for bishop, brandy and water, punch, and 
 such compounds as are most in favour with 
 commercial " gents " bent on finishing the night 
 comfortably.
 
 190 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE GREAT ENTERPRISE. 
 
 The Lord Mayor and several of his guests re- 
 tired to a private room, whilst the Lady Mayoress 
 and her friends proceeded to other apartments 
 fitted up as dressing-rooms, to make such altera- 
 tions in their costume as would better adapt it 
 for the forthcoming ball. The former then 
 drew their seats towards a long table, covered 
 with what appeared to be plans, maps, and 
 estimates. 
 
 There was now an air of business in the 
 physiognomies of these men, so different from 
 the social expression they had put on at the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 191 
 
 dinner-table, that any person who had only 
 there observed them, might have doubted their 
 identity with the very grave assemblage into 
 which they had since been transformed. 
 
 To account for the change, it is only neces- 
 sary to say, that they were all capitalists— or 
 were, at least, presumed to be so — that their 
 only object, before they entered this room, was 
 their dinner ; and that now their only object 
 was their money, which was of greater impor- 
 tance, on all occasions — infinitely greater on the 
 present — as the investment proposed for their 
 consideration was the most extensive in which 
 they had ever been called upon to co-operate. 
 
 The reader should be informed, that about 
 this time the mania for joint-stock companies 
 having apparently exhausted human ingenuity 
 in devising schemes that promised enormous 
 profits — such as companies for establishing an 
 improved method of washing, for making bread, 
 for supplying genuine milk and cream, and 
 concentrated tea and coffee, and an improved
 
 192 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 manufacture of British wine ; as well as pearl- 
 diving companies, gold and silver mining com- 
 panies, and at least a hundred others of similar 
 character — was diverted to an improved method 
 of travelling. 
 
 By means of lines of iron laid down across 
 the country, from one point to another, steam- 
 engines carrying after them prodigious trains of 
 passengers and luggage, it had been proved, 
 might be made to travel with at least four times 
 the speed of the stage-coach ; an advantage 
 considered to be of immense importance to the 
 travelling community, with whom, in general, 
 so much time saved was so much money 
 gained. 
 
 The experiment had at first been made with 
 short distances, at a moderate outlay ; this suc- 
 ceeding, had led to gigantic undertakings, tra- 
 versing the greater portion of the kingdom, 
 from the metropolis to the largest of the manu- 
 facturing cities, at an enormous expenditure ; 
 for, as the entire road must be level, or nearly
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 193 
 
 SO, immense embankments had to be con- 
 structed, to maintain the rails at the required 
 elevation ; and, with the same object, every hill 
 that lay in the way must be pierced with a 
 tunnel. 
 
 Notwithstanding this prodigious expense, the 
 scheme had answered so well, that the capital- 
 ists of the great manufacturing district con- 
 tained in the county of were inclined to 
 
 embark their money in a similar speculation. 
 This feeling had been taken advantage of by Mr. 
 Snobson, and it had been arranged that, on the 
 very day of his entering upon the duties of the 
 mayoralty, there should be a meeting of the 
 leading manufacturers and moneyed men in 
 the county, to whom the grand scheme of 
 ** The Great Diddleton and London Railroad," 
 should be detailed. 
 
 Consequently, when the lord mayor had 
 drawn the attention of the company to the 
 object of the meeting, and had sufficiently 
 dilated on its importance, he begged they would 
 
 VOL. i. K
 
 194 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 have the goodness to Hsten to Sir Dumpy 
 Leveller, the celebrated engineer, who had, for 
 several months past, been engaged in surveying 
 the country, and was thoroughly acquainted 
 with the facilities of the proposed line. 
 
 A tall, gentlemanly, middle-aged man, with 
 an intelligent countenance and prepossessing 
 address, rose amid marks of general attention, 
 and at considerable length explained the ad- 
 vantages of " The great Diddle ton and London 
 Railroad." He entered into much scientific 
 detail as to the process of making the road and 
 laying down the rails, pointing to the numerous 
 maps, plans, and specifications on the table, 
 which the leading men pored over with an 
 appearance of the greatest interest, though there 
 is every reason to believe that they were very 
 far from understanding them correctly. 
 
 On Sir Dumpy Leveller resuming his seat, 
 the lord mayor introduced to the meeting a 
 little white-headed man, in black silk stockings, 
 knee-breeches, white waistcoat, black coat, and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 195 
 
 white cravat, with a handsome display of shirt- 
 frill, as Mr. Butterworth, of the firm of Butter- 
 worth, Bibbles, Baggs, and Butterworth, of 
 Lincoln's Inn, the eminent London solicitoi*s. 
 He was acknowledged to be one of the best 
 made-up London lawyers that had ever been seen 
 in Diddleton. Mr. Butterworth was a special 
 pleader, though his voice was not heard in the 
 courts ; which was a great pity, for he possessed 
 a most seductive style of eloquence, and could 
 not have failed to make his way at the bar. 
 
 Li consequence of his singular talent in 
 speaking, and very respectable appearance, he 
 was in great request amongst the promoters of 
 promising speculations, to describe, to the ex- 
 pected shareholders, the vast advantages that 
 were to be within reach of all who risked their 
 capital in the undertaking. On the present 
 occasion, it was clear that the voice of fame 
 had not exaggerated his qualifications. Mr. 
 Butterworth spoke, and with his honeyed ac- 
 cents all difficulties seemed to vanish as marks 
 K 2
 
 196 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 in the sand on the rising of the tide. He 
 addressed himself, apparently, to a strictly legal 
 consideration of the scheme — touched on the 
 nature of the preliminary proceedings— sketched 
 the progress of the bill that must be brought 
 before parliament — speculated on the oppo- 
 sition of those whose property might be affected 
 by the running of the proposed line through 
 their estates, or in the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of their premises — and met every argu- 
 ment that an opponent might suggest, by show- 
 ing, in the most plausible way, that not only 
 was there no serious difficulty to contend with, 
 but that, when properly managed, the apparent 
 obstacle might become an advantage. 
 
 The company listened to the eminent lawyer 
 with more attention, if possible, than they had 
 paid to the eminent engineer ; one or two occa- 
 sionally asking a question, others indulging in 
 a remark, but all giving that profound atten- 
 tion to the subject which showed how complete 
 was the hold it had obtained over their minds.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 197 
 
 A little man now rose, with a peculiar 
 hawk-like physiognomy, surrounded by very 
 black whiskers ; but though he was clothed in 
 a decent suit of black, no one could have mis- 
 taken him for a gentleman. He rose with an 
 advantage which the preceding speakers did not 
 possess — he was well known to the company. 
 In short, he was Mr. Wigsby, the leading 
 lawyer at Diddle ton. 
 
 After passing a well-merited eulogium on his 
 learned brother from London, he took up the 
 strain where the other had left off, dilating on 
 the incalculable importance of the proposed 
 undertaking to the whole county, and espe- 
 cially to Diddle ton ; dwelling on the immense 
 traffic that might reasonably be expected in a 
 district where rapid conveyance was often of 
 almost vital importance to the manufacturer, 
 and in every way exciting the cupidity of his 
 associates, in whose kindling eyes and animated 
 countenances miglit rcadi'y be seen how the 
 charm worked.
 
 198 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Though it was clear that the speculation was 
 approved of, the company were in general too 
 completely men of business to risk their money 
 without due inquiry into the nature of the 
 proposed investment. A stout, clumsily-made 
 man, with a broad red face, very much pock- 
 marked, took upon himself to attempt one or 
 two questions. This was Mr. Alderman Pugs- 
 by; and his queries related to rumours which 
 had reached him of serious opposition on the 
 part of certain great landed proprietors in this 
 and the neighbouring counties; instancing, in 
 particular, the Duke of Axminster, Lord Allan, 
 
 in the county of , and the Marquis of 
 
 Whortleberry, in the adjoining one. He ended 
 by asking Wigsby, who was well known to be 
 the duke's agent, whether such was the case. 
 
 The Diddleton solicitor acknowledged, with 
 a little circumlocution, that his noble cl'ent was 
 very much averse to the railroad taking the 
 proposed line, as it would cut through a portion 
 of Axminster Park. He believed Lord Whortle-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 199 
 
 berry opposed it, because his lady could not 
 endure the railway whistle, and a station was 
 proposed to be erected within a couple of miles 
 of their splendid mansion, known as " the Vine- 
 yard." The opposition of Lord Allan, he said, 
 was based on a determined dislike of railroads 
 in general, particularly for the injurious eflPects 
 they must have on the proprietors of inns and 
 posting-houses, and for the mischief they must 
 do to the breeders of horses. 
 
 Wigsby ended by intimating that their oppo- 
 sition, even if persevered in, would have little 
 effect upon an undertaking supported, as this 
 would be, by the manufacturing interest. 
 
 This brought up Mr. Butterworth, who, with 
 an air of confidence, explained to the compan}^ 
 that no serious opposition was to be expected 
 from either of the noblemen mentioned. He 
 hinted that he knew, from undoubted authority, 
 that the Duke of Axminster was not in a 
 position to oppose them effectually ; and that as 
 the line would go through the heart of the coal
 
 200 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 district, where lay the marquis's, or more 
 correctly speaking, the marchioness's property, 
 the rail, it would easily be proved, would so 
 greatly increase the value of the produce of the 
 pits, that a lady who knew the value of mone}^ 
 so well as Lady Whortleberry was reputed to 
 do, was not likely to hesitate between her 
 aversion to a whistle and the prospect of nearly 
 doubling her income. 
 
 As for Lord Allan, Mr. Butterworth added, 
 there was quite as little to be feared from him. 
 The evils his lordship predicted might or might 
 not result from the establishment of a railroad ; 
 but the evil was trifling in comparison to the 
 promised advantage. 
 
 An elderly man, of short stature, with much 
 the appearance of a Quaker, the same who had 
 returned thanks at the dinner when his health 
 was drunk as the late Lord Mayor, put a few 
 questions as to the estimates, which might have 
 been pushed forward till ihcy became troublc- 
 sonic^ hrtd llicy not been silenced bv a suiiij^estion
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 201 
 
 judiciously thrown out by the eminent engineer, 
 that Mr. Alderman Binks would be the most 
 proper person that could be selected as a con- 
 tractor for the works. 
 
 Other questions were asked, and other ex- 
 planations required; but Mr. Butterworth had 
 only to open his mouth, and the most satisfactory 
 answer and the clearest explanation were sure to 
 be given. The required effect having been 
 made, the lord mayor again rose, and having 
 sufficiently directed the attention of the company 
 to the highly satisfactory statements to which 
 they had been listening, expressed his determi- 
 nation to invest a hundred thousand pounds in 
 the enterprise. This intention was received 
 with loud applause, and had a perceptible 
 influence on the most backward ; for every one 
 seemed inclined to follow the example of his 
 leader, and in the end, nearly half the proposed 
 capital was guaranteed. 
 
 Coifee was now brought in, and the company 
 became divided into little knot^ of animated 
 K 3
 
 202 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 talkers — the principal group being the Lord 
 Mayor, the eminent London solicitor, the dis- 
 tinguished engineer, Mr. Wigsby, and Alderman 
 Binks. Evidently, the subject of conversation 
 was the same v^ith all ; but in the lord mayor's 
 circle, it vfas being discussed with the earnest- 
 ness of men who had made up their minds to be 
 the chief machinery of this gigantic enterprise. 
 
 Even to these Mr. Butterworth talked on as 
 persuasively as he had done to those whom he 
 had been employed to talk over, as though he 
 was persuaded that the great wheels wanted 
 greasing as well as the small ones. His object 
 was gained — lie managed to impress every one 
 in the room with a high opinion of his talent in 
 railway business, with the view of having his 
 firm appointed parliamentary agents to the 
 company. 
 
 Before the meeting broke up, it was settled 
 that another should take place in a few days, 
 when all the proper arrangements should be 
 made for the establishment of the proposed un-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 203 
 
 der taking, and the allotment of the shares. Some 
 now went home to dream of their profits, and 
 the honours and advantages of being raikoad 
 directors ; the rest accompanied the lord mayor 
 to the ball room, where the lady mayoress was 
 sitting in state, as much like a queen as a robe 
 of white satin and a plume of ostrich feathers 
 could make her. Strange to say, on each side of 
 her was Mrs. Wigsby and Mrs. Pugsby, who 
 were flattering and my ladying her in so 
 earnest a manner, that if her ladyship did not 
 consider them her best friends, it was no fault 
 of theirs. 
 
 An excellent band was playing from an 
 elevated orchestra, and there appeared to be a 
 brilliant assemblage of dancers, — at least they 
 were dressed very fine, and the majority gave 
 themselves very fine airs; but there did not 
 seem to be half the zest for the amusement that 
 characterized the more humble assemblage that 
 danced in Farmer Hawthorn's barn ; and not- 
 withstanding their superior state and dignity,
 
 204 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 the lord mayor and lady mayoress made but 
 indifferent substitutes for the honest farmer and 
 his homely wife. 
 
 His lordship did not remain long: his mind 
 was too much taken up with calculating the 
 extent to which the proposed railroad would 
 pay, to care much for the figures his numerous 
 admirers were going through, and he was ex- 
 tremely glad when his wife permitted him to 
 lead her out of the ball-room. She, however, 
 had been in no hurry to depart — the great 
 attentions that had been paid her by the best- 
 dressed men in the room, and the anxiety of 
 the wives and daughters of Diddleton to be 
 made known to her, had gratified her extremely. 
 She therefore lingered to the last moment — 
 and when she did go, intimated to her delighted 
 friends Mesdames Pugsby and Wigsby, that 
 she would give another ball before long. 
 
 '* Now, my dear lord mayor," said her lady- 
 ship, iu her most affectionate manner, to her 
 husband, a& soon as tliey were alone in her
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 205 
 
 dressing-room, "what does your lordship sup- 
 pose I have been thinking of?" 
 
 " Cannot say, I'm sure," replied the lord 
 mayor, whose ideas were engrossed just then by 
 a scheme for raising the value of shares in " The 
 Great Diddle ton and London Railroad," as 
 soon as they came into the market. 
 
 "I've been thinking of your lordship's be- 
 coming a Member of Parliament," she said, 
 with a look intended to convey a great deal of 
 ^meaning. " I wonder your lordship hasn't 
 thought of it before ; but it is the duty of a good 
 wife to suggest whatever she feels is for her 
 husband's interests; and as I know that your 
 getting into Parliament would be of the greatest 
 possible service to you, I recommend your lord- 
 ship to procure a seat with as little delay as 
 possible." 
 
 " You are very good, my dear," said the lord 
 mayor, drily. " But it so happens that it has 
 been arranged, some months since, that I should 
 be nominated for the first vacancy, and I have
 
 206 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 every reason to believe that I shall be returned 
 in a very few w^eeks." 
 
 The lady mayoress seemed a little taken 
 aback at this intelligence, and was about to read 
 her lord a lecture on his neglect in keeping her 
 ignorant of matters which concerned her so 
 nearly, when the well-known knock of her 
 Abigail, coming to assist in preparing her for 
 the night, prevented the explosion. His lord- 
 ship made a hasty retreat, and presently the 
 lady was too intently employed in answering the 
 faithful Betty's artful questions, to think of her 
 lord and master's unpardonable want of confi- 
 dence, notwithstanding that among the many 
 new facts of which her waiting-woman was made 
 the depositary, was the annoying intelligence 
 she had just learned respecting the so-much- 
 desired seat in Parliament. 
 
 The good lady would have been much more 
 annoyed had she been aware that the faithful 
 Betty had been made acquainted with her 
 master's plans, through the channel of a certain
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 207 
 
 "John," his lordship's confidential servant, and 
 that what she had said on the subject was merely 
 to " pump" her mistress as to the extent of her 
 intelligence.
 
 208 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A rA»IILY BREAKFAST PARTY. 
 
 It was on a bright autumnal morning, some 
 two or three weeks subsequently to the occur- 
 rences mentioned in the preceding chapter, that 
 the apartment at Axminster Castle, known as 
 "the little breakfast-room," was tenanted by 
 three individuals, each ostensibly occupied in 
 sharing the morning meal, rendered as attrac- 
 tive as silver, glass, and china, could make it, 
 but each having an occupation that made the 
 breakfast a matter of secondary interest. 
 
 The first was a gentleman apparently of about 
 fifty, of handsome countenance, though the
 
 Tlir: GOLDEN CALF. 209 
 
 lower part was spoilt by an expression of too 
 animal a character to be approved of by physio- 
 gnomists. He was plainly dressed in a dark 
 shooting-jacket and doe-skin trowsers, with a 
 double-breasted velvet waistcoat, and seemed to 
 be examining the advertisements in a sheet of 
 the "Times:" whilst in a chair beside him lay 
 other newspapers unopened, several letters just 
 taken out of the letter-bag, and aheap of printed 
 pamphlets, particulars of estates for sale, cata- 
 logues of pictures, and numerous long-stand- 
 ing accounts. 
 
 This gentleman was the Duke of Axminster. 
 In the man close observers might have looked 
 in vain for the boy, as he is represented in the 
 first chapter of this work ; nevertheless, in the 
 man there was the boy, only more reckless, 
 more thoughtless, more extravagant than ever. 
 
 The second member of the group was a lady, 
 about five years younger than the duke, bearing 
 in her fair and finely-formed features unmistake- 
 ablc evidence of tlic beauty for which she had
 
 210 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 been remarkable about twenty years ago. She 
 was dressed in an elegant morning robe, and 
 had put down the " Morning Post" to mix some 
 French roll with milk and sugar for a favourite 
 little spaniel that was watching her very intently 
 from a handsome cushion scarcely a yard off. 
 This lady was the Duchess of Axminster. 
 
 The other individual of the group was a child 
 of about twelve years of age, in the most becom- 
 ing of morning toilettes; but her dress did 
 not for a moment take off the attention from 
 that perfect oval of her face and its expressive 
 features, surrounded by a falling shower of the 
 softest and most delicate hair. She had got a 
 large book of costumes in her lap, and was 
 occupied in turning over the leaves and admir- 
 ing the picturesque subjects. The child was 
 Honoria Lady Hill sherry, the^'r only daughter. 
 
 " Bless my heart !" exclaimed the duke, with 
 his eyes apparently rivetted upon one of the 
 advertisements, " Here's Lady Doneup's things 
 going to be sold. How very odd ! I remember
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 211 
 
 some good pictures amongst them, particularly 
 an Albert Durer and a Terburg, a lovely Mou- 
 cheron and a transparent Ruysdael ; must have 
 the Durer and the Ruysdael. Will write to 
 Dibbs by to-day's post, about securing them." 
 
 Neither the duchess nor her daughter inter- 
 rupted this I'ttle speech, or made any remark 
 upon it when it was concluded. Perhaps they 
 were used to his grace's commentaries upon the 
 daily announcements— or, knowing that they 
 were in no way concerned in such matters, did 
 not think it necessary to testify any interest re- 
 specting them. 
 
 The duchess continued to soften her roll, and 
 Lady Honoria to turn over the leaves of her 
 book, just as if the Duke of Axminster had not 
 opened his mouth. 
 
 " I never knew^ so many sales at this time of 
 year," he added ; " and many of them, too, 
 extremely attractive. Here's Lord Lavender's 
 bronzes p id antiques — Sir Ma^maduke Squan- 
 der's books, miniatures, ?nd engravings — Dr.
 
 212 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Dollup's medals and coins — and the Duchess 
 De Sevres' china, drawings, and RafFaele ware. 
 Truly, a rich harvest. I must see what I can 
 glean from it." 
 
 The duchess without a word presented Fidele 
 with his breakfast, and Lady Honoria as indiffe- 
 rently raised her beautiful eyes to see him eat. 
 
 " Well, this is lucky!" exclaimed the duke, 
 with increased animation. " Here's the Rivers' 
 estate again in the market. I never was so 
 anxious about any property in my life as I am 
 about this. It lies so convenient to the Axmin- 
 ster lands that it ought naturally to form a part 
 of them. Wigsby can tell me all about it. I'll 
 see Wigsby to-dsij. I must have it at any cost ; 
 that's decided." 
 
 " When did Arthur say he should leave Cam- 
 bridge, Honoria?" asked the duchess of her 
 daughter. 
 
 '* On Saturda}'^, mamma." 
 
 " Ah I now I remember, my dear, it was 
 Saturday." Her grace added, after a very brief
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 213 
 
 pause, " Did he say he meant to bring any one 
 with him ?" 
 
 "Yes, mamma; Arthur says he shall be ac- 
 companied by his friend Frank Willoughby, 
 who is just entered at the same college." 
 
 The young lady did not lift her eyes from 
 her book of costumes; indeed, she seemed to 
 feel as little interest in the remarks of one 
 parent as she had evinced in those of the other; 
 nevertheless, about the last question she was 
 not so indifferent as she wanted to appear, 
 for she remembered that, in his letter, the 
 young marquis had written a good deal about 
 his young friend ; insisting, with all the autho- 
 rity of an elder brother, that he should, at the 
 juvenile fancy ball, which was to be given at 
 the Castle in the ensuing week, be honoured 
 with her hand for the first dance. 
 
 A stately-looking man now entered the room, 
 in a handsome suit of black, an elegantly-tied 
 cravat, a delicate satin waistcoat, with a fine 
 gold chain festooned at the pockets, thin shoes,
 
 214 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and silk stockings. He had a fine head of hair, 
 that fell in the most tasteful curves, and a good 
 set of features, yet with a complexion evidently 
 foreign. He was Monsieur Philippe, the duke's 
 Swiss valet. 
 
 On his entrance, Lady Honoria raised her 
 beautiful eyes; but as soon as she recognised 
 the intruder, they resumed their task with the 
 same absorbed air she had displayed from the 
 first. The man walked noiselessly to the duke's 
 chair. In a few seconds his grace looked up. 
 
 " Mr. Kitcat, your grace," said the valet, in 
 a low voice. 
 
 "What does he want?" inquired the duke, 
 unconcernedly, without taking off his attention 
 from the advertising columns. 
 
 " He says he has brought with him some- 
 thing he wishes particularly to show your 
 grace." 
 
 " Wants to show me his little bill, I sup- 
 pose," observed his grace, pointedly, yet evincing 
 no intention of leaving his chair. " Has he
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 215 
 
 anything with him ?" he asked, with a languid 
 air. 
 
 " Only a small wooden case." 
 
 *•' Let him leave it." 
 
 The man took his dcpartm'e, and the duke 
 returned to his newspaper. 
 
 Mother and daughter now entered into con- 
 versation in a low tone. The subject was the 
 forthcoming ball; and the duchess seemed to 
 enter upon it with anything rather than the 
 animation with which her sex are expected to 
 treat such entertainments ; the fact being, that 
 her grace had been brought up with Presby- 
 terian notions, and these had of late years re- 
 gained that supremacy they had lost during the 
 first year or two of her marriage. Indeed, so 
 serious had she become latterly, that her great 
 enjoyment was collecting together, in her draw- 
 ing-rooms, the most celebrated preachers of her 
 national kirk, when tea and tracts, extemporary 
 preachings and pound-cake, occupied the best 
 portion of the evening.
 
 216 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Her daughter did not testify much interest in 
 the noisy theology to which the duchess was so 
 partial ; nor could it be said with justice, that 
 she was very much enamoured of those feminine 
 gaieties that are commonly allowed to belong to 
 her age and position. In the instance to which 
 we have just referred, she was led to play the 
 prominent part that had been proposed to her, 
 solely at the desire of her brother, whose wishes 
 were laws with her; and indeed were scarcely 
 less so with her mother, whose admiration of 
 the heir of the great family of Axminster was 
 the only feeling that could maintain a place in 
 her grace's heart, in opposition to her partiality 
 for the harsh voige of a certain Reverend Hector 
 Macgillicuddy, a very powerful preacher. 
 
 The conversation did not last long. It was 
 suddenly interrupted by a burst of soliloquy 
 from the duke, so loud and violent, that the 
 ladies were forced, involuntarily, as it appeared, 
 to turn round to discover what had caused such 
 a display of feeling.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 217 
 
 " A railroad !" exclaimed the duke, in a tone 
 in which indignation seemed to struggle with 
 surprise. " A railroad for this part of the 
 United Kingdom, apparently expressly designed 
 to disfigure my property, and be a nuisance to 
 the whole neighbourhood ! Now if there is 
 anything I particularly detest in this world, it is 
 this very abomination. Even as a means of 
 conveyance I detest it, as an ugly, formal, dis- 
 agreeable arrangement, expressly intended, as it 
 seems, to destroy the beauty of the country, 
 and level the bulwarks of society. I hate rail- 
 ways. Every peer who desires to retain the 
 privileges of his order, must hate railways. Yet 
 knowing my feelings, as I am confident every- 
 body does know them, a set of fellows, in the 
 very county of which I am lord-lieutenant, have 
 combined together to thrust a thing of this sort 
 under my very nose ! But I will read the ad- 
 vertisement." 
 
 Here M. Philippe again made his appear- 
 ance — again stepped lightly up to his lord, and 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 again murmured the name of some visitor ; but 
 he was sooner dismissed than before; for al- 
 though the message sent by the valet was, like 
 the previous one, rendered as enticing as pos- 
 sible, the duke was well aware it came from a 
 dun, and was not to be enticed. I may as well 
 here add, that M. Philippe came several times 
 that morning, either with such civil messages, 
 or with equally respectful notes, but his grace 
 either referred the parties to his steward, or in 
 some other approved way made their errand 
 unprofitable. 
 
 He then proceeded to read the following an 
 nouncement: — 
 
 GREAT DIDDLETON & LONDON RAILROAD. 
 
 Capital, TiDo Millions Sterling, in 40,000 Shares 
 of £50 each. 
 
 CCfjairman : 
 THE LORD MAYOR OF DIDDLETON. 
 
 " Who the deuce is the Lord Mayor of Did- 
 dleton?" asked the duke. " Some new man.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 219 
 
 perhaps; brewer, or baker, or tailor, or some 
 other fellow who has made money in trade, and 
 now wants to make more by a railroad. I'll ask 
 Wigsby; Wigsby knows everybody, and makes 
 too much out of me to withhold any informa- 
 tion I may want to get from him. Then come 
 the directors." The duke now read the following 
 list, but not without a pretty frequent sprinkling 
 of " pishes I" and " poohs !" 
 
 Aldek.man Pugsby. 
 Sir WiLLouGHBY Griffin, C.B. 
 Jeremiah Doublechin, Esq. 
 Septimus Squills, M.P. 
 Major Bulrush. 
 
 Dalrymple Pippins, M.P., F.R.S., F.S.A. 
 Alderman Binks. 
 Admiral Holystone. 
 Alderman Baggs. 
 The Hon. Tobias Greenfinch. 
 Jonathan Sniggs, Esq. 
 Dr. Grab.vll. 
 With power to add to their number. 
 
 "I dare say," was the duke's commentary; 
 " and power to do a great many other things, 
 I've no doubt; and if the truth were known, as 
 l8
 
 220 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 pretty a set of snobs as could be picked up in 
 the whole county. But what comes next ?" 
 
 Engineer — Sir Dumpy Leveller. 
 
 Standing Counsel — Mr, Serjeant Stockfish. 
 
 Solicitor at Diddleton — Jacob Wigsby, Esq. 
 
 Here the duke uttered an exclamation of 
 astonishment that was more emphatic than re- 
 fined. As his grace not unfrequently forgot 
 himself, it is the less surprising that he should 
 forget his company. The duchess did not hear; 
 indeed, to do her justice, her grace never did 
 hear anything that was not addressed to her. 
 Possibly the length of time she had accustomed 
 herself to the excellent, though somewhat pro- 
 tracted, discourses of her favourite divines, had 
 rendered her organs of hearing insensible to 
 everything resembling profane speech from her 
 more worldly associates. As for Lady Honoria, 
 her little mind just at that moment was too 
 busy speculating upon the pleasures of the 
 forthcoming ball, to have heeded an impro- 
 priety more glaring even than the little slip
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 221 
 
 of the tongue that her parent had just perpe- 
 trated. 
 
 " I'll discharge that Wigsby !" exclaimed his 
 grace, evidently as near a rage as it was 
 possible for so elevated a member of the 
 peerage to approach on such a provocation. 
 " He shall no longer be my agent. He shall 
 have nothing to do with my property. I'll 
 teach him to connect himself with such an 
 abominable undertaking, well knowing my sen- 
 timents about it. I'll give the fellow notice 
 this very day to give up my papers, and I'll 
 find some other lawyer more likely to assist 
 me in putting down this gigantic nuisance. 
 
 " What a pity it is that Butterworth lives so 
 far oiFI" his grace exclaimed. " If he would 
 but settle in this neighbourhood, and give up 
 those confounded dark chambers in London, 
 he would be just the very man for the kind of 
 business I want. He's far too clever a fellow 
 to connect himself with railroads, I'm sure. 
 Indeed, I'm pretty certain IVc heard him
 
 222 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 express himself very strongly respecting 
 them." 
 
 His grace was perfectly right in his con- 
 jectures. Mr. Butterworth had, before his noble 
 client, spoken in his usual fluent manner against 
 the unjustifiable encroachments of railroads 
 on private property; but that eloquent 
 solicitor knew that his client wished him so to 
 speak, and he knew also what was due to 
 himself and his partners too well, to express an 
 opinion in opposition to the party for whom he 
 was at the moment retained. 
 
 The duke went on to read the announcement 
 of the intentions of the Company, and of the 
 directors of the proposed line, bursting out into 
 invectives that became stronger the more nearly 
 the proposed line approached his property, 
 till at last the duchess thought it necessary to 
 interpose with an inquiry as to whether he 
 required the spirit-lamp that was burning under 
 a silver dish to keep warm some particular 
 delicacy that had been prepared by the French
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 223 
 
 cook for his grace's breakfast. The Duke 
 graciously stooped his head, and blew out the 
 unnecessary light. 
 
 Once more M. Philippe glided, with noise- 
 less steps, into the room. Notwithstanding the 
 unsatisfactory eiFects of his previous announce- 
 ments, his face still wore that apparently 
 stereotyped gravity which he had displayed on 
 his first appearance. The duke looked up, 
 and frowned. His grace was evidently im- 
 patient of such intrusions, and thought the 
 Castle duns more troublesome than usual. 
 
 Notwithstanding his lord's apparent displea- 
 sure, the Swiss continued his silent progress 
 across the room, and on arriving at the ac- 
 customed place, delivered himself of the accus- 
 tomed whisper. The effect was very different 
 from what it had hitherto been. The im- 
 patience so evident on the duke's physiognomy, 
 suddenly changed to an expression of reserve 
 and thoughtfulness. 
 
 In this state he remained for some minutes.
 
 224 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 undisturbed by the attempt the duchess was 
 just then making to interest her daughter in 
 the peculiar tenets of her favourite preacher, the 
 Rev. Hector Macgillicuddy, to which the young 
 lady seemed to be paying very deep attention; 
 nevertheless, her thoughts were at the moment 
 as far from the Rev. Hector as the poles from 
 each other. 
 
 " Ask him to wait," said the duke. " Put 
 him in the library. Say I'll be with him 
 presently." 
 
 The valet made the usual reply, and then 
 effected his retreat. The duke then aflPected 
 to look over his letters and papers. Some he 
 tore from the envelopes, and hastily glancing at 
 the contents, put down again; others, after 
 cursorily examining the superscription, he threw 
 on one side unopened; the larger papers his 
 grace did not look at. They were by no means 
 pleasant documents to peruse. The open letters 
 were from female correspondents, or equally 
 confidential communications from trainers and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 225 
 
 jockeys, respecting the state of his own horses 
 or of those of other great men on the turf; the 
 unopened letters were from money-lenders, or 
 London tradesmen, in whose books accounts 
 were standing against him to a very heavy 
 amount; and the larger papers were demands 
 of different kinds from persons, employed by his 
 grace, living in the neighbourhood of the Castle, 
 who appeared to be all suffering from that shop- 
 beeper's epidemic — " a heavy sum to make up." 
 
 At last the duke thrust the most unwelcome 
 portion of his correspondence into a small 
 leather bag, on which was affixed the name of 
 his steward. He locked it carefully, and putting 
 the more private documents into his pocket, 
 was about to leave the breakfast-room, when he 
 was detained by some questions from the 
 duchess, as to the probability of his accompany- 
 ing her and her daughter on a visit they had 
 previously proposed paying together. 
 
 The duke afiected to have quite forgotten, 
 made an abundance of the mobt amiable 
 L 3
 
 ^^b THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 apologies, with an equal number of affirma- 
 tions that nothing could have afforded him 
 greater gratification; lamented that after he had 
 got rid of his visitor, he should be obliged to 
 ride to Diddleton to see what could be done in 
 the way of knocking that confounded railroad 
 on the head, and after one or two pretty 
 speeches in reference to her juvenile ball, to 
 his daughter, who received them with a bright 
 smile, very different to the serious look with 
 which she had so lately endured the theology 
 of the Rev. Hector Macgillicuddy, he left the 
 apartment. 
 
 Perhaps the Duke of Axminster was not a 
 model husband or a model father; indeed, it must 
 be confessed that he did some things very much 
 at variance with vulgar notions of the parental 
 and marital character ; nevertheless, he seemed 
 always extremely careful to appear sensible of 
 the claims of his wife and children. He was 
 everything that was polite and attentive, in- 
 dulgent and affectionate. It was impossible for
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 227 
 
 SO quiet a personage as the duchess to have 
 found fault with him, and the youthful Lady 
 Honoria would have considered it horrible 
 wickedness to have' entertained an idea to his 
 prejudice. Nevertheless he was to what he 
 resembled, as a model in frosted sugar to the 
 particular object it is intended to represent. 
 
 The noble library in which the duke's visitor 
 found himself, deserved to be considered the 
 most valuable attraction in the Castle. Indeed, 
 it was one of the finest private collections of 
 books in the kingdom ; for the duke's im- 
 mediate predecessors had spent immense sums 
 in making it what it w^as. One had taken a 
 fancy to classic authors, and had eagerly bought 
 up every rare edition of the works which consti- 
 tuted ancient literature, that was procurable; 
 another had been a Bibhomaniac, and had ran- 
 sacked all the booksellers' shelves at home and 
 abroad for what was curious and unique ; a third 
 had a predilection for manuscripts, and had 
 formed, at a vast expense, a collection of mouldy
 
 228 . THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 papers and parchments worthy of a college 
 library. There were also separate collections 
 of prints, coins, medals, minerals, and other 
 objects of interest, which either the duke or 
 his ancestors had brought together; and their 
 extent and rarity gave to the great library at 
 Axminster Castle the European celebrity it had 
 so long enjoyed. 
 
 During this comprehensive patronage of the 
 dead, what had been done by the Axminster 
 family for the living, is not so clearly made out 
 as it ought to be ; but there are good grounds 
 for believing that the sums often lavished upon 
 an obscure volume, that was valued exclusively 
 for being the only copy extant, might have given 
 comfort, perhaps happiness, to a contemporary 
 author of merit, wasting under the phthisis of 
 unrewarded labour. But this, unfortunately, is 
 too common a case to be a reproach. The 
 claims of intellect create a kind of optical 
 deception uu the eyes of the great. Those 
 that time haj? made so remote as not to be
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 229 
 
 perceptible to ordinary observation, are readily 
 brought within their focus, but such as are so 
 near they might stumble on them at every step, 
 they never can be brought to see. 
 
 The visitor, thougS a man of the world, was 
 not insensible to the influence of so suggestive 
 a place as the Axminster Library. He looked 
 on the antique marble busts, and the fine 
 bronzes, and the rows of well-bound books, 
 and the cases of rare medals, with an eye of 
 sensible admiration. But those sharp eyes 
 were not so lit up out of excessive enthusiasm 
 for art, or intense admiration of learning. The 
 gentleman was thinking of their value, and 
 calculating what they would fetch by auction. 
 
 At this moment, a door opened from an 
 adjoining room, and the Duke of Axminster 
 presented himself. There never was any man 
 so affable as the duke — that is, of course, to 
 persons inferior to him in position. He was 
 most gracious, mobt condescending, most cour- 
 teous to all, cind it seemed that the humbler
 
 230 ' THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 the individual the more agreeable became Lis 
 manner. A tradesman, when he first came to 
 receive orders, was sure to be charmed with 
 his noble customer; and the tenant who was 
 regular with his rent, never left his presence 
 without being convinced that the whole world 
 did not contain so good a man. 
 
 On the present occasion, the duke felt par- 
 ticularly disposed to be gracious ; and his 
 visitor, it was evident, was one by whom such 
 grace of manner w^as sure to be fully appre- 
 ciated. Every lineament in his expressive 
 physiognomy displayed the grateful sense he 
 felt of so flattering a reception. .The reader 
 will not be surprised at this, when he is told 
 that the favoured visitor was Mr. Butterworth, 
 the great London solicitor. 
 
 The two had scarcely seated themselves^ 
 when the duke entered upon his grievance, 
 and after denouncing the abominable railroad 
 in the most expressive terms his indignation 
 could suggest, and consigning all its aiders and
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 231 
 
 abettors to the worst possible fates, his grace 
 ended by asking advice as to the best and most 
 summary means of knocking the whole thing 
 on the head. 
 
 Charming was it to observe the air of interest 
 and respectful commiseration with which Mr. 
 Butterworth listened to the outpourings of his 
 noble client's indignation. It was plain that 
 he felt equally grieved and quite as deeply 
 wronged as his patron ; but the skill with which 
 he listened was thrown into the shade by the 
 skill with which he spoke. Never did forensic 
 eloquence accomplish such a triumph. 
 
 It is impossible to go through the arguments 
 by which this accomplished special pleader 
 gradually led the way from a consideration of 
 the case of the Duke of Axminster, to special 
 pleading the case of the Great Diddleton and 
 London Railway. Let it suffice to know, that 
 Mr. Butterworth satisfied the duke that it was 
 quite impossible, in the existing state of thingSj 
 that anything could have turned up half so
 
 232 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 advantageous for him as this " confounded 
 railway" coming through a portion of his estate. 
 That, besides increasing the vahie of his Ax- 
 minster property I cannot say how much per 
 cent., it would put his grace in possession of 
 a considerable sum of ready money for the land 
 which the company would require. 
 
 The sum named, the duke knew would be 
 extremely acceptable — Mr. Butterworth knew 
 it quite as well. The railway annoyances his 
 grace thought might be exaggerated — Mr. 
 Butterworth convinced him that he would not 
 suffer the slightest inconvenience from the line, 
 as it would not approach the Castle nearer than 
 three miles. And then the eloquent agent 
 went on talking, and his noble client went on 
 listening, till the latter not only agreed to allow 
 the no longer " confounded railroad" to run 
 through a portion of his property, for the 
 liberal recompence that had been proposed by 
 the Company, but suffered himself into being 
 perbuaded to accept an allotment of shares,
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 233 
 
 with the prospect of obtaining a portion of the 
 vast profits that this great enterprise was sure 
 to confer on its supporters. 
 
 I may as well admit that, instead of going to 
 Diddleton that day, for the express purpose of 
 endeavouring to knock " the confounded rail- 
 way" on the head, in the most summary manner 
 possible, the duke presently proceeded there in 
 company with Mr. Butterworth, with no other 
 object in view than to be introduced to the dis- 
 tinguished chairman of the company, for the 
 purpose of trying to induce him to enter at 
 once into arrangements for such portion of the 
 Axminster lands as the company might require 
 for the formation of the proposed line. 
 
 His grace was introduced in due form to 
 the great man, to whom he showed almost as 
 much consideration as when he helped to lift 
 his bruised form out of the prostrate errand- 
 cart into his splendid equipage. 
 
 The reader has traced the Duke of Ax-
 
 234 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 minster and John Snobson from the extreme 
 limits of the social scale. They may now be 
 said to have met each other about half -way — the 
 one, in his descent; the other, in his rise. They 
 are so far on a level that they are joined in the 
 same speculation.
 
 3Soofe tfie d?ourtD* 
 
 SPEED THE PLOUGH.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 237 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A FARMER OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 
 
 Giles Hawthorn was a farmer of the old 
 school. He was up before the lark, and 
 throughout the day there was not a man he 
 employed that worked so hard as himself. He 
 ploughed, he reaped, he thrashed; he mowed, 
 he harrowed, and did all kinds of farm work 
 better than any labourer in the parish. He 
 always took the lead with the sickle, was ever 
 the most active with the hay-fork ; and even in 
 such occupations as hoeing turnips, or picking 
 stones — for he seemed reaiy for any kind of 
 work — he was sure to do more in an hour than 
 any one else could do in two.
 
 238 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 It was impossible to imagine a more instruc- 
 tive picture of agricultural industry than was 
 presented within that portion of his land he 
 happened to be operating upon. There he was, 
 conspicuous in his broad felt hat, and white 
 smock frock, holding the plough and turning up 
 the soil with a skill that would have enraptured 
 the umpire of a ploughing match — the carter 
 standing, whip in hand, by the side of the fore 
 horse of the team, urging on the well-fed beasts 
 with that peculiar gibberish which cart-horses 
 alone thoroughly understand. One or two other 
 ploughs might be seen making progress nearly 
 parallel at a few furrows' distance, and ever and 
 anon, as the heavy ankle boots of the master 
 went striding over the yielding soil, his head 
 would be turned in the direction of his men, to 
 note if they did their work in a proper manner. 
 If there appeared the slightest indication of 
 negligence, in an instant the loud voice of the 
 farmer startled the offending Joe or Jack, and, 
 in terms that admitted of no excuse, he bade
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 239 
 
 him be more attentive to his duty ; for he not 
 only set a good example, but he made his ser- 
 vants follow it: yet, though during work no 
 employer could look more sharply after his 
 labourers than he did, when work was over he 
 was quite as anxious that his people should 
 amuse themselves as much as they pleased, in 
 every way most agreeable to them. 
 
 Regularly every market day Farmer Haw- 
 thorn might be seen in his taxed cart, or else 
 on his old grey mare, proceeding at a sober 
 pace in the direction of the town — generally at 
 no great distance from his beasts, or his flocks, 
 or his wagons, — if he had either stock or pro- 
 duce for sale, — and as few farmers were better 
 known at market, or held in greater esteem for 
 their farming knowledge, his corn, his hay, his 
 oxen, his sheep, or whatever he chanced to 
 bring with him, found ready purchasers ; and 
 after having taken his share of the well-spread 
 table at the farmers' ordinary at the White 
 Swan, and enjoyed a tankard of ale and a pipe,
 
 240 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 he jogged home at the same quiet pace he came 
 — with the addition of a good round sum in his 
 old pocket-book, a new gown-piece for his wife, 
 and some pretty trinket for his daughter. 
 
 Dame Hawthorn was of the same good school 
 as her husband. She was sure to head her 
 maids with cans and stools, as soon as the cows 
 were ready for milking; then followed the labours 
 of the dairy, and she was indefatigable at the 
 churn and the cheese-press. The result well 
 repaid her labour ; for her butter was the best 
 in the market, and her cheeses were so excel- 
 lent in flavour, that they always commanded a 
 quick sale at the highest prices. 
 
 Her accomplishments as a farmer's wife were 
 extended to rearing the finest poultry and the 
 fattest pigs. Her barn-door fowls and dairy- 
 fed pork were the admiration of the country ; 
 and the pea-fowl, geese, ducks, and turkeys 
 which assisted in the farm-yard chorus, that 
 could always be heard on approaching the 
 house, were quite as much the delight of the 
 neighbouring epicures.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 211 
 
 Then she was equally skilled in good house- 
 wifery; for in pickling, preserving, brewing, 
 baking, pastry and wine making, there was not 
 her equal in the county. From sunrise till 
 late in the day she might always be found ab 
 sorbed in one or other of these employments, 
 busy, bustling, directing and scolding as a 
 farmer's wife only can scold when she discovers 
 that the industry of her maids does not keep 
 pace with her own. 
 
 Sharp as she was inclined to be with her 
 tongue, it was impossible to have a warmer 
 heart than she possessed ; and when the labours 
 of the day were over, no one was so ready as 
 herself to allow any kind of merry-making 
 that was attainable. 
 
 Her daughter Peggy had been brought up 
 very differently from the customary way of 
 bringing up girls of her class. She had had a 
 plain education, and nothing more. She had 
 no idea of writing bad French, or speaking 
 worse Italian — she knew nothing of painting 
 
 VOL. 1, M
 
 242 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 on velvet, of embroidery, or crochet ; she had 
 neither learned the piano, the harp, nor the 
 guitar, and therefore could annoy no one by a 
 wretched performance of an unmeaning com- 
 position, where the noise was only exceeded by 
 the difficulty; and as, fortunately, her voice 
 had not been cultivated by a music-master, 
 there was no fear of her stunning people's ears 
 with bawling "Di Piacer," in tones so sharp 
 as to set their teeth on edge — or of her 
 putting the unhappy audience to sleep by 
 drawling " Una voce" so dreadfully flat that 
 it might be taken for the lamentation of a soul 
 in limbo. 
 
 Peggy Hawthorn assisted her mother in the 
 dairy, in the house, or in the farm-yard, in 
 short, wherever she might be wanted ; and she 
 had so profited by having constantly before her 
 so excellent an example, that she was considered 
 almost as good a hand at puddings as her 
 parent — and as for darning stockings, shirt- 
 making, or any kind of plain work, there was
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 243 
 
 not her equal in any farm-house for twenty 
 mrles round. 
 
 Although Peggy was under her mother's eye 
 a pattern of industry — in short, a model farmer's 
 daughter — there is no reason for doubting that 
 amongst young people of her own age she coTild 
 enjoy herself quite as heartily as the most idl}^ 
 disposed of the lot; therefore she was always in 
 the highest possible spirits when there v^■ere a 
 few friends at the farm to enjoy the farmer's 
 hospitality: the men to compare notes on poli- 
 tics and agriculture, and the women to com- 
 municate the small news of their respective 
 districts. 
 
 On one occasion the worthy couple had in- 
 vited " a party," on the anniversar}^ of their 
 wedding-day, to meet the ladies of the cottage, 
 and unusual pains had been taken, not only to 
 make it as genteel as possible with respect to 
 the guests, but to render the entertainment 
 as genteel as the resources of the farm would 
 permit. 
 
 M 2
 
 244 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 An intelligible hint was therefore conveyed 
 to their friends of both sexes, as to the necessity 
 of their appearing in their best clothes; and it 
 was clear that the farmer and his family had 
 determined to set the example in their own 
 toilet. 
 
 Giles had a new blue coat with gilt buttons 
 made for the occasion, and absolutely donned 
 his best hunting breeches and top-boots. His 
 wife made him also put on a white cravat which 
 she herself tied in a large bow, with the ends 
 falling on a prodigious frill, that had been the 
 fashion when he was a young man. Very little 
 of it was concealed by the buff waistcoat which 
 he was satisfied with buttoning at the last but- 
 ton, for as it had been made for him twenty 
 years ago, it proved rather too tight a fit to 
 want much buttonins;. 
 
 Never had the old man looked so gay since 
 the day of his marriage; and when his daughter 
 brought him a pretty large bunch of roses to 
 put in his button-hole, he could not avoid
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 245 
 
 taking a good-humoured survey of himself in 
 the old-fashioned mirror in the parlour ; and to 
 the infinite amusement of both mother and 
 daughter, who had just come from their respec- 
 tive dressing rooms, he, in phrase more energetic 
 than polite, expressed his doubts that he " were 
 a deal too fine a chap to pass for Giles 
 Hawthorn." 
 
 "But now let's have a look at thee, dame?" 
 he exclaimed, turning his wife round, to have a 
 full view of her new silk gown, on the ample 
 bosom of which reposed a good-sized bouquet 
 of flowers. " Didst ever see the like o' this in 
 any farm-house in these parts ? Why, dang it, 
 dame, thee must be a-going to cut out the 
 Queen. And here's our Peggy !" he added, 
 throwing up his hands in amazement, as he 
 gazed at his daughter's still more showy drapery. 
 " Why, what hast thee been about, wench ? 
 There be finery enough on thy back, I'll 
 warrant, to keep a poor family for a munth." 
 
 Mother and daughter were protecting that
 
 246 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 their dresses were nothing to what some of their 
 neighbours wore, when, fortunately for them, a 
 convincing proof of this assertion appeared in, 
 or rather on, the persons of Farmer Clodpole's 
 daughters, who were seen picking their way 
 across the yard, as fine as the last illustration in 
 the last fashion-book could make them. 
 
 Whilst they all hurried out to welcome their 
 friends in the hearty way for which they were 
 famous, it is necessary to inform the reader that 
 it was barely noon by the great clock in the 
 best parlour, and that the invitations had been 
 " to spend the day :" that is, to come early 
 enough for dinner, which might be expected 
 any time between the hours of twelve and one. 
 
 The first comers were the three Misses Clod- 
 pole, whose father rented a farm about half a mile 
 off. He had a large family of boys and girls, but 
 they were not of very great use to him, as they 
 had lately lost their mother, and the father was 
 too much occupied with the business of his farm 
 to look after them as closely as was necessary.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 247 
 
 The consequence was, that they grew up, caring 
 lor little except dress and amusement; very 
 vain, very shallow, and very idle. 
 
 Presently the father and his two sons ap- 
 peared: the former, a bullet-headed, heavy- 
 looking man, of the working- farmer species, un- 
 doubtedly, though not the brightest specimen 
 that could be produced ; the latter, slim, rakish- 
 looking youths, in fancy ties and flaring waist- 
 coats, with cutaway coats of the last fashion that 
 had reached Somerton Paddocks. 
 " How be ye, Maister Clodpole ?" 
 " How be ye, Maister Hawthorn ?" was the 
 simultaneous exclamation of the two farmers; 
 and then they shook hands ; and such a shaking 
 it was ! It would have made the arms ache of 
 any persons not used to such a muscular style 
 of greeting. Then Farmer Clodpole asked 
 after his friend's wife and daughter, and Farmer 
 Hawthorn assured him they would answer for 
 themselves in a very few minutes, as they had 
 only gone up stairs with his girls.
 
 248 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Dick and Tom now came in for their share of 
 notice, and their share of shaking, which they 
 bore with much fortitude ; and then something 
 was said about the weather, and this led to 
 something about the green crops, which intro- 
 duced something about sheep and cows, which 
 would have gone further into the labours of the 
 farm, had not the conversation been broken up 
 by the entrance of the three daughters and their 
 hostess, and her daughter, when a general hand- 
 shaking commenced, with the usual inquiries, 
 remarks, congratulations, and exclamations — all 
 the women joining their shrill trebles, as a 
 matter of course, and the two farmers occasion- 
 ally giving the advantage of their deep, gruff 
 basses to the chorus. 
 
 Dick and Tom stood a little in the back- 
 ground, waiting their time to ingratiate them- 
 selves with Mrs. Hawthorn, or to be particularly 
 civil to her daughter; yet their reserve did not 
 prevent them from every now and then getting 
 up a boisterous -laugh, whenever anything was
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 249 
 
 said that bore the most remote resemblance to 
 a joke. 
 
 The appearance of a second batch of visitors 
 interrupted this performance, and in a few 
 minutes there ^vas another violent rush to the 
 door, another fit of spasmodic hand-shaking, 
 another confusion of tongues, and another grand 
 combination of giggling, laughing, and shouting, 
 till the medley began to separate into its com- 
 ponent parts, and something like an attempt at 
 conversation became evident. 
 
 The fresh arrivals proved to be Farmer 
 Pollard and his better half, and Miss Euphemia. 
 The two former were rustic enough, beyond all 
 doubt ; but their daughter had just returned 
 from boarding-school, and was as perfect a 
 burlesque upon a fine lady, as a fine education 
 could have produced, when engrafted upon a 
 very narrow intellect. 
 
 Miss Euphemia thought herself immeasurably 
 superior to her company, and looked as if she 
 condescended to appear amongst them, for want 
 m3
 
 260 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 of having something better to do; but except 
 poring over the well-thumbed volumes of the 
 third-rate novels and romances which she 
 obtained from the circulating library in the 
 next town, it would be difficult to say what she 
 had to do; for her fine education had made her 
 so helpless, that she was scarcely capable of 
 lifting her hand to her mouth without complain- 
 ing of fatigue. 
 
 Next came Mrs. Mayflower and her daugh- 
 ters, and of course the performances had to be 
 repeated ; but they went off with quite as much 
 spirit and freshness as on their first representa- 
 tion. It was evident that the Hawthorns had 
 been gifted with an unlimited power of shaking 
 hands, and that their cordiality rather increased 
 than diminished with the calls made upon it. 
 
 They were followed by Mr. Roger Hawbuck, 
 a young fellow who had only recently taken a 
 farm, and, according to the opinion of his fair 
 friends, had not sufficiently stocked it — for he 
 was a bachelor, Mr. Hawbuck, however, did
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 251 
 
 not seem in any hurry to select a wife. It was 
 evident that he thought himself much too 
 valuable a commodity to be rashly disposed of. 
 
 Mr. Roger Hawbuck was a rustic dandy, and 
 took an immense deal of pains in performing the 
 part of walking advertisement for Snippins, the 
 crack tailor at Diddleton. He threw such small 
 exquisites as the two young Clodpoles entirely 
 into the shade. They looked with amazement 
 at his satin stock, his velvet waistcoat, with 
 another of flaming crimson beneath it — his dress 
 coat with velvet collar, and his superfine kersey- 
 mere trowsers — they envied him his stylish- 
 looking beaver, and his crimson and amber silk 
 pocket handkerchief, which he displayed with a 
 flourish that scattered the perfume with which 
 it was saturated to the farthest extremity of the 
 room ; and could not avoid feeling rather small, 
 when he talked of his recent visit to London, 
 and the various interesting things he had beheld 
 during his stay. 
 
 They had never been to London — they knew
 
 252 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 nothing about it, except what they had gleaned 
 from the two or three persons in the parish 
 who had obtained no shght celebrity in con- 
 sequence of having made the journey and 
 returned in safety; but what they had heard 
 had excited in their minds a very great desire 
 to travel in that direction. 
 
 Young Hawbuck was evidently very proud 
 of the consideration he enjoyed in the circle, in 
 consequence of his recent visit to the great 
 metropolis; and when questioned by his fair 
 friends respecting the sights he had witnessed, 
 he did not fail to impress upon his audience the 
 important advantages that were to be acquired 
 by travelling. Other friends dropped in : the 
 party was beginning to look formidable, and 
 the parlour in which they were assembled bore 
 no slight resemblance to the neighbourhood of 
 the Tower of Babel before the dispersion of 
 the builders; nevertheless, the more important 
 guests of the day, " the ladies of the cottage,'' 
 had not made their appearance. 
 
 As all had come full dressed to meet these
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 253 
 
 honoured guests ; they naturally formed the sub- 
 ject of conversation as soon as it became known 
 that they had not arrived ; and a good deal was 
 said about them, both by the gentlemen and 
 the ladies, which was pretty conclusive evidence 
 that they had excited their curiosity, if they 
 had not their interest. 
 
 Mr. Roger Hawbuck had not yet been so 
 fortunate as to come under their notice ; but 
 though this might be a disadvantage, he did not 
 fear being able to triumph over it in a very 
 brief space after finding himself in their society. 
 As he looked round upon the young farmers in 
 the room, and noticed their particularly rustic 
 appearance and manners, he could not enter- 
 tain a doubt that he should be sure to attract 
 the attention of the ladies, almost as soon as 
 they entered the room ; and would not throw 
 such discredit upon his own powers of pleasing, 
 as to entertain any apprehensions of his making 
 a decided impression upon them in a remark* 
 ably short time. 
 
 Just as he had come to this satisfactory con-
 
 254 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 elusion, the expected guests were announced to 
 be in sight ; and the windows were immediately 
 crowded, for the purpose of getting a good stare 
 at them as they approached the house. Some 
 disappointment was expressed by the host and 
 hostess, when they discovered that two persons 
 only were in view — the one being their familiar 
 friend Possett, the other the elegant Miss 
 Howard ; the juniors, however, appeared to 
 take the absence of the elder lady with a good 
 deal of philosophic resignation; they thought 
 they had a better chance of making progress 
 with the young lady whilst the old one was 
 away. Mr. Hawbuck, in particular, congratu- 
 lated himself upon the occurrence of a cir- 
 cumstance so favourable to his views. 
 
 Miranda was taken up stairs whilst the little 
 apothecary was going through the customary 
 greeting ; and as everybody made it a point to 
 shake him by the hand with the greatest possible 
 display of cordiality, he got such a shaking before 
 he had gone the round of the room, as must have
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 255 
 
 caused him to feel extremely glad when the 
 last shake had been administered. 
 
 It appeared from his statement, that Mrs. 
 Howard had felt too indisposed to join the 
 party ; that her daughter, as soon as her mother 
 complained of illness, averred that she preferred 
 staying at home ; but Mrs. Howard would not 
 hear of her disappointing such kind friends, and 
 directed Mr. Possett to take her under his 
 escort to the farm, and bring her back when- 
 ever the party broke up. 
 
 The fact was, Mrs. Howard was far from 
 feeling any inclination towards festive parties. 
 Her natural temperament was melancholy and 
 reserved ; and she preferred, whenever she could, 
 being left to her own reflections, to sharing in 
 scenes of gaiety and enjoyment. Nevertheless, 
 she w as quite as desirous that Miranda should 
 play her part in such scenes, as often as might 
 be convenient ; and gladly availed herself of so 
 unexceptionable a companion for her as her 
 medical attendant.
 
 256 TiiE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 The worthy man was undergoing the full 
 penalty of his popularity, when the door opened, 
 and Mrs. and Miss Hawthorn appeared, leading 
 in Miranda, dressed with a degree of simplicity 
 which distinguished her as much from her pre- 
 sent associates as did her high-bred, graceful 
 manners, when compared with the listless affec- 
 tation of some, and the rustic rudeness of the 
 rest. 
 
 On her entrance, there was at once a hush, 
 both of the loud laugh and the vigorous gossip ; 
 all stood and stared, like actors in a scene who 
 had forgotten their parts. Even Mr. Hawbuck 
 was astonished out of his self-confidence by 
 the sudden appearance of so lovely a vision; 
 and Miss Euphemia began to suspect that her 
 superiority to everybody was very likely to be 
 called in question. 
 
 Farmer Hawthorn came forward, and really 
 seemed the most embarrassed of the party, as, 
 in a tone much more subdued than usual, and 
 with a cordiality tempered by respect, he wel-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 257 
 
 coined the beautiful girl to his house ; and then, 
 with a homely civility, introduced her in turn 
 to every one in the room. 
 
 At first, very little was said; but Possett 
 began to thaw the ice of his friends' reserve, 
 with some pleasantries in which he knew he had 
 the privilege of indulging on all occasions, and 
 then the musical laugh of Miranda Howard 
 appeared to pass over the company like a 
 charm. 
 
 This emboldened the master of the house to 
 say something in the same spirit ; and the 
 amusement it evidently afforded his fair guest 
 was so encouraging, that he took heart, and 
 began a playful conversation, to which she re- 
 plied with such vivacity, that presently some of 
 the seniors drew near, and took their share in 
 the amusement. 
 
 Before dinner was announced, it became the 
 unanimous opinion of the gentlemen, that Miss 
 Howard was the cleverest, the wittiest, and the 
 handsomest young lady they had ever seen.
 
 258 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Even Mr. Hawbuck, who might be expected to 
 have had a larger field of observation in the 
 way of young ladies than the rest, felt himself 
 obliged to subscribe to the same opinion.
 
 TUE GOLDEN CALF. 269 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 AN ECLIPSE. 
 
 Miranda had been greatly amused by her 
 company — the scene was quite as novel to her 
 as the dance in the Swallowfield barn. It 
 afforded her a better opportunity of studying 
 the characteristics of her new acquaintances 
 than she found in the intervals of dancing ; and 
 as they developed themselves before her she 
 became more and more amused and interested. 
 
 Hitherto she had scarcely known any one ; 
 the seclusion in which Mrs. Howard had lived, 
 had afforded her very few and very limited 
 glimpses of life; therefore when she suddenly
 
 260 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 became the centre of attraction to a group such 
 as I have described, she must have felt very 
 much hke the lady in Comus on finding her- 
 self amongst the salvage people. 
 
 Farmer Hawthorn handed her in to dinner 
 with possibly very little grace, but with an 
 abundance of true politeness which might not 
 have existed with a more graceful manner ; 
 and he placed her, with a good deal of homely 
 gallantry, at the seat of honour on his right- 
 hand side. 
 
 Many observations from the seniors followed 
 this arrangement — and some of the boldest of 
 the juniors were anxious to get up a remon- 
 strance ; but the farmer paid back their jokes 
 with interest, and soon made the non-contents 
 understand that their chance of making them- 
 selves agreeable to his fair guest was very des- 
 perate, as long as she chose to remain at his 
 elbow. 
 
 And she remained where he had placed her; 
 for, in truth, she liked the honest, healthy face
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 261 
 
 of the old man a great deal better than that of 
 any one in the room — not even excepting that 
 of the dandified Mr. Hawbuck — and was sen- 
 sibly gratified by his attentions. The jokes and 
 the general observation she was exciting did not 
 in the slightest degree discompose her; she 
 could see that all were in the highest good 
 humour with her, and consequently she felt 
 bound to be in the highest good humour with 
 them. 
 
 The dinner astonished her. Such profusion 
 as loaded the great table round which the com- 
 pany sat, she could never have imagined. It 
 was far from being an elegant repast, and was 
 very different from the meals to which she had 
 been accustomed. Even the genteel Miss 
 Euphemia thought it incumbent on her to 
 turn her nose up a little more than Nature had 
 turned it, when she observed that there was 
 neither soup nor fish. 
 
 But there was no deficiency of solids; there 
 was an immense round of beef at one end of the
 
 262 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 table, and a good sized fore-quarter of lamb at 
 the other: and pigeon pie, and lamb's tails, and 
 calves' head, and a fine ham. Afterwards there 
 appeared a prodigious boiled turkey — fowls 
 both boiled and roasted, a green goose, and a 
 couple of ducks ; they were followed by bread- 
 and-butter pudding, plum-pudding, Yorkshire 
 pudding, mince pies and tarts. Lastly came 
 cheese. 
 
 All this was washed down with copious 
 draughts of beer and cider ; for the guests ap- 
 peared not less thirsty than hungry. They 
 were blessed with excellent appetites: indeed, 
 although Miranda was too well-bred to appear 
 to be remarking what her companions ate, she 
 could not avoid feeling a good deal astonished 
 at the prodigious quantity that disappeared 
 down their throats. But if in this respect they 
 astonished her, she astonished them to an equal 
 extent by the smallness of what sufficed for her 
 wants. The good people were evidently dis- 
 posed to think that she was ill, or did not like
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 263 
 
 her dinner ; and to remove any impression of 
 this nature, Miranda found herself forced to 
 continue her meal till she thought every addi- 
 tional morsel must choke her. 
 
 During dinner, though every one sought to 
 play his or her part in the most satisfactory 
 manner, there was no one more conspicuous 
 than the little doctor. He recommended this, 
 he approved that, he was ready to carve for 
 everybody, and was always persuading his 
 neighbours to come again, which, to do them 
 justice, few of them resisted; indeed, so much 
 were his services in demand, that he scarcely 
 had time to swallow a mouthful, before an 
 empty plate was thrust before him with the 
 usual entreaty for a fresh supply. 
 
 When the dinner had fairly terminated, and 
 the wine decanters had been placed on the 
 table, Mr. Possett came forward more promi- 
 nently than ever. He anticipated everybody's 
 choice in the difficult question, " white or 
 red ?'' and saw that all were furnished with a
 
 264 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 brimming bumper, conveniently placed near 
 their right-hand, close to their plate of nuts or 
 apples, or almonds and raisins, or whatever fruit 
 the ample desert afforded. 
 
 Then rising to his feet, and leaning forward 
 over the table so as to be seen as well as heard 
 by every one present, he delivered himself of 
 an oration, interrupted every now and then 
 by the encouraging plaudits of those around 
 him. Mr. Possett was not Demosthenes, nor 
 was there any probability of his ever being mis- 
 taken for Cicero, but for all that, he was the 
 great orator of the village, and a festive meet- 
 ing without a speech from " Maister Possett" 
 would, in the opinion of his friends and patients, 
 have been robbed of its greatest ornament. 
 
 At birth- days and wedding-days it seemed 
 as much his regular duty to address the parties 
 to whose honour the day had been dedicated, 
 with a complimentary discourse, as it was to 
 send them draughts and mixtures whenever they 
 wanted physic. On the present occasion he
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 265 
 
 was not at all inclined to omit the great feature 
 of the entertainment. 
 
 He boldly addressed the company on behalf 
 of their host and hostess, making them aware 
 of certain excellent qualities possessed by them, 
 just as if it were a recent discovery on his part ; 
 and he dwelt separately on the perfections of 
 each with such an air of novelty, that no one 
 who heard him for the first time, could suppose 
 that he kept the same phrases cut and dry for 
 such occasions, and had repeated them so often 
 that there must have been few present who did 
 not know them by heart. 
 
 Possibly the farmer's friends were not gifted 
 with good memories; for they cheered the 
 speaker in every quality he set down to the 
 credit of their host and hostess, as vociferously 
 as though they were anxious to do justice to 
 merit they had hitherto overlooked ; and many 
 exclamations were dealt out by those whose 
 hearts were evidently under the dominion of 
 the good cheer they jiad succeeded in placing 
 VOL. I, jr
 
 266 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 SO near them, which expressed their concurrence 
 in the statements of the speaker, who did not sit 
 down till he had proposed the usual toast in the 
 usual words. This was immediately responded 
 to with sundry energetic additions, apparently 
 as much to the purpose as the more formal 
 oration. 
 
 Although Farmer Hawthorn could do every- 
 thing a farmer ought to do, and do it well ; 
 returning thanks after his health had been 
 drunk, he could not do. He had sometimes 
 put together a string of passable sentences at 
 the farmer's club, whenever anything was dis- 
 cussed there in which he felt himself more 
 than usually interested; but to get up and 
 thank Doctor Possett for saying a whole wagon- 
 load of civil things about him, he found a much 
 more difficult matter. 
 
 Nevertheless, he rose, and addressed his 
 friends and neighbours with a very different 
 sort of voice to the one he used when at 
 plough ; and strove to express his sense of the
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 267 
 
 honour that had been conferred upon him by 
 his worthy friend, *' Maister Possetts" but, 
 somehow or other, his mind being familiar only 
 with certain ideas, he soon began to diverge 
 from the doctor to the farm, and commenced 
 floundering in a medley of long horns and 
 short horns, mangold-wurzold and oil cake, 
 guano and top-dressing, and an infinite variety 
 of other agricultural topics, till he drew up 
 suddenly with "Thankee kindly, and I drink 
 your very good health." 
 
 Immense applause followed this essay. Pos- 
 sibly his brother farmers were not better orators 
 than himself, or perhaps had no objection to 
 a return speech being as empty as a return 
 chaise ; for there seemed to be no one at the 
 table but felt satisfied that it expressed every- 
 thing their friend ouQ;ht to have said, and was 
 the best thing of the kind they had ever heard 
 in their lives. 
 
 I need not say how often Mr. Possett came 
 forward in the capacity of toast-master, or how 
 N 2
 
 268 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 many speeches he perpetrated to the honour 
 and glory of the seniors. Nor need I describe 
 the exact phraseology in which the latter de- 
 livered themselves of their gratitude ; very 
 homely, indeed, were their small attempts at 
 oratory, but they suited their audience a great 
 deal better than finer speeches would have 
 done, and left no room for one being jealous 
 of the other's superior merit. 
 
 Miranda had listened with increasing amuse- 
 ment, and reluctantly left her seat when she 
 observed her hostess and her female friends 
 leaving the room. There was then a scramble 
 of two or three of the most active of the portly 
 farmers, as to which should be first to open 
 the door ; but Farmer Hawthorn had the good 
 fortune to be nearest, and enjoyed a boisterous 
 laugh at his discomfited friends, when he laid 
 his broad palm upon the handle and com- 
 menced a running fire of homely gallantry 
 upon the ladies as they passed him, till his fair 
 acquaintance from Ro^e Cottage made her 
 appearance.
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 269 
 
 He made a polite speech, but though it 
 sounded very rustic, Miranda knew it to be 
 sincere, and rewarded him with a smile, which 
 sent him triumphant back to his laughing 
 guests, who rallied him prodigiously on his 
 becoming such " a lady's man." The farmer 
 appeared as if he rather liked the imputation 
 than otherwise, and seemed disposed to crow 
 very lustily over his guests for the recent ad- 
 vantage they had permitted him to obtain. 
 
 Thus they continued to jest, and pipes were 
 brought in, and tumblers of spirits-and-watcr 
 began to take the place of the wine-glasses, and 
 as the men continued to smoke and drink, their 
 conversation became more free, and more cha- 
 racteristic of their pursuits. 
 
 A group at the bottom of the table, con- 
 sisting of the juniors, were discussing the 
 attractions of Miss Howard. The young 
 farmers were evidently of one mind respect- 
 ing her beauty ; but Mr. Hawbuck, who was 
 looked up to as a great authority, gave it as 
 his opinion, that, as far as he had an op[)or-
 
 270 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 tunity of judging, she wanted "style." Such 
 simplicity of dress and manner, he assured 
 them, was not at all the fashion amongst the 
 young ladies of London, who always wore the 
 richest materials, and invariably preserved a 
 haughty what-are-you-looking-at, keep-your- 
 distance, fellow ! sort of countenance. 
 
 He, however, frankly added, that it would 
 be better for him to see the young lady two 
 or three times before he ventured to give a 
 decided opinion as to her want of fashion. 
 His friends were of the same opinion ; and the 
 two young Clodpoles, who swore by Hawbuck 
 in all matters in which his superiority in having 
 been to London gave him the advantage, ex- 
 pressed themselves fully satisfied that Miss 
 Howard was not any very great things as 
 regarded dress, though they freely admitted 
 that she was uncommon handsome, and that 
 they should like very well to be better ac- 
 quainted with her. 
 
 The other young fellows did not seem to
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 271 
 
 care a straw whether she was fashionable or 
 not ; they could see plainly enough that she 
 was quite different from any girl that they had 
 ever beheld before, and they could not help 
 thinking that she was a monstrous deal better 
 worth having in every respect than the best of 
 them. 
 
 In the meantime, the group of farmers, 
 under the combined influence of tobacco and 
 Hollands-and-water, were getting extremely 
 convivial and communicative. They talked of 
 what interested them most— the state of the 
 markets, the forwardness of the crops. Farmer 
 Such-a-one's bull, or Farmer So-and-so's breed 
 of sheep. From stock they got to grain, and 
 from grain they travelled back again to stock ; 
 and wheat, oats, and barley, vetches, clover, 
 and turnips, were discussed with all the gravity 
 becoming such important subjects. 
 
 At last, when the conversation began to run 
 rather slack, in consequence, perhaps, of their 
 having run through the agricultural repertory.
 
 272 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 Farmer Clodpole commenced an account of a 
 journey he had lately made to Diddleton, to con- 
 sult Lawyer Wigsby respecting a renewal of his 
 lease, and then related all the wonderful things 
 he had heard respecting the projected railway ; 
 what marvels it was to effect for farmers, and 
 what fortunes they were to make by it. 
 
 The conclave listened with the most absorbed 
 attention, scarcely once attempting to interrupt 
 the narrative, except by the puffs of smoke 
 with which they were filling the room. When 
 they heard of the immense rapidity with which 
 the steam-engine could be made to go along 
 the rail, and the facility the line would afford 
 them for procuring manure and disposing of 
 their crops and surplus stock, they one and all 
 took their pipes from their mouths, and ex- 
 pressed their very decided opinion that "it 
 warn't possible." 
 
 *^But Lawyer Wigsby says it he possible," 
 exclaimed the narrator, with an appearance of 
 decision ; " and he knows all about it, he do ;
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 273 
 
 and says that millions on niillions of money be 
 already prescribed for it, and all the rich folk 
 both at Diddleton and at Lunnon have become 
 its correctorsj I think he said ; and that in about 
 a couple of years, we farmers may jump into the 
 railroad, and in a few hours find ourselves safe 
 and sound in Smithfield market" 
 
 « No !"— '' Ye don't say so !" — " It bean't 
 possible, surely !" — " I be amazed to hear such 
 wonders!" were the ejaculations of the other 
 farmers. 
 
 "I tell 'ee what, friends and neighbours!" 
 exclaimed Farmer Hawthorn, apparently con- 
 siderably excited, for he dashed his clay pipe 
 upon the floor, " I doan't like none o' these new- 
 fangled notions. I've seen all sorts of wonder- 
 ful things in my time, as was to do the farmer 
 no end of good ; but danged if I ever seed any 
 good come of any one on 'em. 
 
 " Why can't we be content to go on in the way 
 our forefathers did!" he demanded. '• The land 
 readily produces all we wants it to produce, 
 N 3
 
 274 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 and there are markets where we can take what 
 we has to sell whenever we has a mind. I 
 sees no use, I doan't, in being whirled here and 
 being whirled there, as if there wern't so much 
 as a moment to be lost. Slow and sure is my 
 motto. 
 
 " Besides," added he, " horses have been 
 created by a wise Providence to help us on our 
 journeys; and every farmer knows how useful a 
 good horse is to him whenever he wants to get 
 over the ground at a briskish pace ; but it's 
 nothing better than flying in the face of Provi- 
 dence to set aside the beast that carries us so 
 well, and go to market in a steam-engine. 
 What'll become of the capital breed of horses 
 now employed in stage-coaches, and chaises, 
 and gigs, and gentlefolks' carriages, and them 
 as be fit only for wagons and carts, if everything 
 be to go everywhere by a railroad ? 
 
 '^ Friends and neighbours," said he, with more 
 solemnity, " I, for one, be against railroads. 
 They shan't make one hereabouts, if I can
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 275 
 
 prevent it. I doan't want to go to Lunnon as 
 though I were a flying there, nor I doan't want 
 my cattle, nor my sheep, nor my pigs, nor my 
 crops, to go neither. Things be well enough if 
 folk would only let 'em 'bide so ; and ye may 
 mark my words — no good '11 come o' trying to 
 make 'em better." 
 
 This was a prodigious effort for so indifferent 
 a speaker as Giles Hawthorn, and it was con- 
 cluded with a thump on the table with his 
 sledge-hammer fist that ought to have carried 
 conviction to all his liearers. The novelty, 
 however, of the idea of a railroad to London, 
 and the marvels that seemed to grow out of it, 
 produced a kind of fascination on their limited 
 intellects ; and the conversation was prolonged, 
 notwithstanding the decided sentiments of their 
 host. 
 
 Mr. Possett had not shared in the discussion, 
 as he had disappeared almost immediately after 
 the dinner, for the purpose of visiting some 
 patient at a distance, and had not yet returned;
 
 276 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 But I must leave the farmers to make the 
 best of their subject whilst introducing the 
 reader to the other parlour — a large comfortably 
 furnished room with a bright Kidderminster 
 carpet, old-fashioned chairs and tables — the 
 latter covered with several kinds of cake, and a 
 handsome assortment of cups and saucers, that 
 appeared to have been in the family for centuries, 
 and two or three framed coloured prints upon 
 the walls, the most conspicuous being one of a 
 famous bull that had been bred by Farmer 
 Hawthorn. 
 
 Here the ladies had assembled on their retire- 
 ment from the dining-room, and here their 
 hostess endeavoured to get up a general con- 
 versation. Miranda assisted her to the best of 
 her ability, but with very little success with the 
 younger members of the community. She tried 
 to become familiar with Miss Euphemia Pollard, 
 but when that refined young lady discovered 
 that the had never heard an Italian Opera, 
 and had i>ot the bliGrhtebt knovvledjj-e even of
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 21 7 
 
 the names of the principal singers. Miss Howard 
 sunk so low in her estimation, that it was 
 evident she could scarcely bring herself to be 
 civil to her. 
 
 Finding nothing was to be done with Miss 
 Euphemia, Miranda transferred her attentions 
 to the Misses Clodpole ; but as she unfortunately 
 let out that she never saw the illustrations in 
 the " Beau Monde," and cared nothing about 
 the last fashion in Paris, the Misses Clodpole 
 set her down at once as so perfectly void of 
 taste, that it could not be worth their while to 
 waste their valuable time upon such a person. 
 
 Miranda tried to render herself agreeable to 
 other young ladies then present, but as she 
 could not talk about the few subjects that 
 interested them, and they were lamentably 
 ignorant on those that interested her, her 
 success was never very decided. In despair, 
 she returned to Mrs. and Miss Hawthorn, in 
 whose good opinion she fancied herself gaining 
 ground, and strove to appear interested in an
 
 278 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 animated conversation that was carried on be- 
 tween them and some of the elder ladies, re- 
 specting the best method of curing bacon. 
 
 In a short time even this discourse appeared 
 to languish, and the farmer's wife regretted 
 that there was no music to entertain them ; 
 which elicited an intimation from Mrs. Pollard, 
 that Euphemia had brought her guitar, and 
 would no doubt make an effort to amuse her 
 friends; but Euphemia pleaded a bad cold, and 
 a perfect inability to play, though she had 
 brought her instrument for the express pur- 
 pose of showing off before the company. 
 
 After a good deal of pressing, in which 
 Miranda joined, the extremely refined young 
 lady chose to order her guitar case to be intro- 
 duced, and made up her mind to exhibit her su- 
 periority over Peggy Hawthorn's new friend, in 
 a manner that must eclipse her so completely, 
 that she should be ashamed to show herself 
 again. 
 
 The guitar was bfought, and Miss Euphemia
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 279 
 
 put herself in an attitude, and then very af- 
 fectedly began to sing an Italian scena. She 
 intended to astonish Miss Howard, and did so 
 most completely. The latter could never have 
 imagined so singular an exhibition. She ven- 
 tured to look round her, and was not a little 
 surprised to find young and old listening with 
 very great attention. 
 
 Miss Euphemia laboured through her scena, 
 apparently very much to her own satisfaction, 
 and much to the gratification of her audience, 
 who, when Mrs. Pollard whispered, with an air 
 of decided self-congratulation on her homely 
 features, that it was Italian, looked as though 
 bound to admire it to the full extent of their 
 ability. 
 
 Miranda felt inexpressibly relieved when it 
 was over. It was with the greatest difficulty 
 she could restrain her laughter, and she feared 
 every moment that she must burst out, in spite 
 of the scrave faces that surrounded her — so 
 absurd did the whole performance appear. To
 
 280 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 disguise this risible feeling as much as possible, 
 as soon as the scena was concluded, Miranda 
 was one of the loudest of those who ap- 
 plauded. 
 
 Miss Euphemia enjoyed her triumph. She 
 saw at once how much she had astonished 
 Peggy Hawthorn's new friend ; but she was 
 desirous of pushing her success still further. 
 She therefore, when the latter came towards 
 her, and added her mite to the profusion of 
 compliments that rewarded her exertions, placed 
 the guitar in her hands, and with an expression 
 of countenance in which superciliousness was 
 strugghng with a desire to appear amiable, 
 begged she might be permitted to hear her 
 perform. 
 
 Miranda drew back and would have avoided 
 the honour conferred upon her ; but her hesi- 
 tation made Miss Euphemia more pressing, and 
 her entreaties were so earnestly backed by those 
 of Mrs. Hawthorn and her daughter, as well as 
 by almost every one in the room, that she
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 281 
 
 felt it would appear rude if she any longer 
 resisted, and therefore, much to the astonish- 
 ment of Miss Euphemia — first carefully tuning 
 the guitar, a process which its owner had 
 thought unnecessary — she rattled through a 
 brilliant prelude, whilst she considered what 
 kind of performance would be most acceptable 
 to her audience. 
 
 Presently she commenced an English ballad. 
 Such a voice had never been heard in that room 
 before. It was a pure contralto of the richest 
 quality, and the fulness of the tone was admi- 
 rably displayed in the simple touching melody 
 which she had selected for her essay. It was 
 soon perfectly clear that every one listened 
 with the most absorbed attention ; they all 
 understood, they all felt, such music. Indeed, 
 the excellent heart of Dame Hawthorn, unused 
 to such appeals to her sensibility, had become 
 so softened as the ballad proceeded, that she 
 found herself obliged to wipe her eyes with her 
 pocket handkerchief.
 
 282 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 All seemed to appreciate the talent of the 
 singer but Miss Euphemia, who was most de- 
 cidedly of opinion that singing English was 
 very vulgar, and that nobody with the slightest 
 pretensions to gentility would think of having 
 recourse to such old-fashioned things as ballads: 
 she looked for concurrence in the Misses Clod- 
 pole, but in spite of their afFectation, those 
 fashionable young ladies were evidently too 
 much interested in the performance to be able 
 to give any of their attention to their mortified 
 ally. 
 
 The performance proceeded amid a profound 
 hush. Miranda had her eyes upon the guitar, 
 and therefore could not see the effect she was 
 producing, — but the stillness around her was 
 satisfactor}^ proof that no one was indifferent, 
 and she went on to the close of the ballad, in- 
 creasing the expression that gave so deep an 
 effect to her singing. 
 
 When she raised her eyes from the instru- 
 ment, her astonishment was excessive on behold-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 283 
 
 ing the audience she had collected — for all 
 the gentlemen of the party were crowded about 
 the doorway peeping over each other's shoulders 
 with countenances expressive of intense plea- 
 sure and amazement, whilst her host stood 
 about a yard in front, his mouth and eyes wide 
 open with a kind of prodigious rapture, as he 
 was making a movement behind him with his 
 open palms, as if in signal to those in his rear 
 to be as still as mice. 
 
 The silence was preserved for a minute or 
 two after she had ended, as if the charmed 
 circle took time to recover from the unusual 
 enchantment ; and then there burst forth a peal 
 of plaudits that was absolutely deafening, min- 
 gled with exclamations of delight, praise, and 
 gratitude from both old and young. 
 
 Even Mr. Hawbuck gave it as his opinion, 
 that as a specimen of English singing — which, 
 however, he said was quite exploded in Lon- 
 don — it was highly creditable. Farmer Haw- 
 thorn then very stoutly maintained that it was
 
 284 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 the best song he had ever heard in his Ufe ; his 
 buxom wife having dried her eheeks, acknow- 
 ledged its excellence in language equally posi- 
 tive, and most of the farmers and their wives 
 seemed to coincide with them in opinion. 
 
 Poor Miss Euphemia ! 
 
 Urgent were the entreaties of Miranda's new 
 friends to sing again: and Mr. Hawbuck thought 
 proper to add his entreaties, with an inquiry 
 whether she knew anything Italian, as Italian 
 was so much the fashion in London. Miranda 
 looked at him, and could hardly help laughing 
 at his airs of connoisseurship. Miss Euphemia 
 thought she hesitated, and again took heart ; but 
 her unconscious rival, moved only by a wish to 
 oblige, not only sung an Italian aria with the 
 most perfect intonation and accent, but followed 
 it with a Spanish romance, a German ballad, 
 and a French chanson ; all of which she sung 
 with equal effect. 
 
 Miss Euphemia began to look rather straight 
 down her nose. The appetite of the company
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 285 
 
 appeared to increase with what it fed on, and 
 as the good nature of the young stranger rt)se 
 with the demands upon it, the remaining por- 
 tion of the day was passed by Farmer Haw- 
 thorn and his guests in listening to her selec- 
 tions from Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, 
 Rossini, Auber, and a few choice specimens of 
 English ballads. 
 
 Mr. Hawbuck now decided that the young 
 lady was more fashionable than he had at first 
 imagined; and he determined on giving her 
 the benefit of his countenance. The Clodpoles 
 were of the same opinion and determination. 
 As for the rest, they seemed as if they could not 
 praise her in adequate terms. 
 
 Miss Euphemia was eclipsed.
 
 286 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 A DREADFUL SECRET. 
 
 " I can't say as I likes this sudden change, 
 Jacob. It's so opposite to all as she's done 
 afore. Indeed, it do seem so mortal strange, I 
 can't make head or tail on't." 
 
 This little speech was bawled into the ears of 
 the deaf old gardener by his wife, one afternoon 
 he was taking his tea in the kitchen, the day 
 following the visit of Miranda to the farm. 
 Jacob Muskett sipped his tea, and munched 
 the toast his attentive grand-daughter had just 
 made for him. 
 
 " I tell 'ee, man, I doan't like this here change
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 287 
 
 a bit!" added his old helpmate, raising her shrill 
 voice a little more. " It do seem so contrary to 
 what we have been used to, since we first come 
 to live here, that I can't help feeling no good 
 will come of it." 
 
 " Ey!" cried the old man, looking at his wife 
 inquiringly. 
 
 "Thou be'st terrible deaf, to be sure!" she 
 exclaimed; then added, in her loudest key, 
 "What dost think of these junketings, after 
 living so many years as quiet as hermits. Surely 
 it be a strange thing for our lady to let Miss Mi- 
 randa go about to visit such people as Farmer 
 Hawthorn and his family, where she bean't 
 likely to meet any one worthy to tie her shoe." 
 "I doan't know," drawled out the old man; 
 " it bean't no business o' mine. If she chooses 
 it to be, why it maun be, and there's an end 
 on't." 
 
 " Well, I knows that well enough," said the 
 old dame, sharply, as she poured out another 
 cup; "but I wants to know the meaning of
 
 288 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 living shut up in this here corner of a place so 
 long, keeping the folk hereabout ignorant of 
 everything, and not seeing nobody from year's 
 end to year's end, except the old parson and the 
 dancing doctor chap, then all of a sudden going 
 about dancing at barns, and frolicking at farm- 
 houses, as if our young lady were to be hail 
 fellow well met with every Tom Noddy as was 
 to be found in the county." 
 
 " Ey !" asked the old man again. 
 
 " Sure-ly you be as deaf as a post to-day, 
 Jacob; but I were a saying, I can't make out 
 why our missus should choose to demean herself 
 by keeping company wi' farmers and sich like, 
 and let Miss Miranda make acquaintance with 
 Peggy Hawthorn, and the Mayflower girls, 
 and the Clodpole wenches, and a power of 
 others of the farmers' daughters hereabouts, as 
 is scarcely good enough to be her servants.'' 
 
 " If they likes to be her servants, I doan't see 
 any reason why they shouldn't." 
 
 ** Ye be so horrible deaf, there's no getting
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 289 
 
 ye to understand anything. I didn't say no- 
 thing about those wenches coming here as 
 servants. We be quite enough to do all the 
 work, and Missus doan't want to be better 
 served, I'll be bound. But don't ye think now, 
 as it's unbecoming for Miss Miranda to be a 
 consorting with Peggy Hawthorn and her 
 friends?" 
 
 "I aint sure. Perhaps it be, perhaps it 
 bean't." 
 
 " O Jacob, Jacob, I thought ye'd more re- 
 spect for the family! Her mother wouldn't 
 have suffered her to be familiar with people 
 so much beneath her, and therefore it can't be 
 proper for her to let her daughter be so. I tell 
 ye, I doan't like the looks of it, Jacob. It be a 
 manifest lessening of her dignity." 
 
 " Another cup, dame, for I be terrible thirsty." 
 
 ** But ye haven't told me what ye thinks of 
 this strange affair, Jacob !" cried the old woman, 
 impatiently, as she provided her husband with 
 another steaming cup of her fragrant beverage. 
 
 VOL, I. o
 
 290 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 " Why, I doan't think of it, dame," replied 
 the man, doggedly. " I aint no call to think of 
 it. If our missus has thought proper to have it 
 so, no doubt she has her reasons for't, dame; 
 and I doan't feel it to be any part of my dooty 
 to call 'em in question. As for Miss Miranda, 
 a^ I'm sartain sure there's nobody in the whole 
 world good enough for her, her keeping com- 
 pany with farmers' daughters can't be no 
 worse than keeping company with anybody 
 else." 
 
 " Well, I never come anigh so strange a 
 man. I do wonder at you, Jacob, I do. I 
 doan't think it possible for any one to feel for 
 our lady more love, and regard, and veneration, 
 than I have felt for her, ever since that terrible 
 misfortune ; and this it is as leads me to look 
 with dread and repugnance to her doing any- 
 thing likely to lower her dignity. Besides, I 
 can't help thinking as it's very like to prove 
 dangerous." 
 
 <' What's that, eh ? Dangerous ? What's
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 291 
 
 dangerous ?" cried the old gardener, hurriedly ; 
 now fairly starded into attention. 
 
 " She doan't know what we knows !" added 
 the old woman, with a good deal of emphasis. 
 " I be sartain sure she hasn't the least idea 
 where he is ; and I doan't like to tell her, cause 
 I knows how terrible she'd take on." 
 
 " No, dame, doan't say a word on no ac- 
 count. At times, I knows she be far from 
 happy, poor lady ! and nothing as I can think 
 of would be so likely to make her easy in her 
 mind as to make her believe there was nothing 
 to fear. I wouldn't have her catch so much as 
 a ghmpse of the truth, for bushels of gold." 
 
 " Nor I neither, Jacob." 
 
 " Then be sure not to say a word about it. 
 Maybe she'll find it out some day or other, and 
 then I'm monstrous afeard it will go badly with 
 her. But, as the parson says, ' Sufficient for 
 the day is the evil thereof.' " 
 
 " So it be, Jacob." 
 
 " There be nothing for it but patience, dame."
 
 292 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 " Patience, indeed ! No one can say the 
 poor dear lady hasn't shown enough of that. 
 When I thinks of what she's had to suffer, I 
 stands amazed, I do, at her resignation. And 
 to see how she do doat on Miss Miranda, and 
 the pains she takes, for so many long years, in 
 instructing of her in playing of instruments 
 and speaking of languages, and drawing, and 
 fine work, and scores of things besides. I can 
 hardly believe my old eyes that I behold before 
 me " 
 
 "I must be agoing, dame," here exclaimed 
 the old man, getting off his seat, and interrupt- 
 ing his wife's speech, the greater portion of 
 which, most probably, he had not heard. " I 
 must put all them delicate plants back into the 
 green-house, and be a transplanting them cut- 
 tings, or they won't soon be able to bide the 
 cold." 
 
 Little Effie ran and got him his hat, and the 
 hoe — which served him in the double capacity 
 of weeder and walking-stick — and then Jacob
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 293 
 
 went through the back door to his usual avoca- 
 tions in the garden; and his grand-daughter, 
 after anxiously watching him till he turned an 
 angle in the walk, returned to her stool by the 
 fire. 
 
 " What time did Miss Miranda come home 
 last night, Effie ?" asked the old woman. 
 
 " About eight, grandmother." 
 
 " Did the dancing doctor chap remain long 
 in the parlour when he brought her home?" 
 
 "He didn't bring Miss Miranda home, 
 grandmother." 
 
 " No !" cried the dame, in accents of alarm. 
 ** What! — he left the poor thing to find her way 
 across the fields at that time o'night ! That be 
 like his pranks — he were a dancing somewhere 
 or other, I'll be bound, and forgot her." 
 
 "No, grandmother, I heard Miss Miranda 
 tell mistress all about it. He had gone to see 
 some poor woman at Mill-street, and couldn't 
 come back, she were so bad ; so when Miss 
 Miranda made to leave the farm, Farmer Haw- 
 
 VOL. I. o 2
 
 294 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 thorn and all the friends he had with him in- 
 sisted on what she called escorting her home ; 
 so that when Miss Miranda arrived at the 
 cottage, she was surrounded by nearly a dozen 
 men, young and old; and when I opened 
 the door, they were a taking leave of her, as 
 though they were monstrous reluctant to let 
 her go." 
 
 " I be sorry I didn't bide at home. I wouldn't 
 have missed such a sight for summut. But 
 what sort of folk were they, Effie ?" 
 
 " The bettermost sort of farmers about here. 
 There was Farmer Clodpole." 
 
 " A pretty companion for our young lady he 
 be, Effie. I do think if he had sent one of his 
 bullocks, he would have done just as well." 
 
 ^^Then there were his sons Richard and 
 Thomas." 
 
 "Dick and Tom Clodpole! Why, there 
 bean't two such idle young fellows in the parish. 
 They does nothing a'most, but ride out to meet 
 the hounds, or go a rabbit-shooting, or a hurdle-
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 295 
 
 racing, or be a doing anything but looking arter 
 their father's farm. Neither on 'em's good 
 enough to be trusted with the care of her shoe- 
 strings." 
 
 " Then there was Mr. Hawbuck " 
 
 "I knew him when he answered to the name 
 of Hodge, and that be a'most too good a name 
 for such an empty-headed jay. In his fine 
 clothes, he won't condescend to look at poor 
 folk. I can't abide him, Effie — I be amazed 
 Miss Miranda should let such a puppy sort of a 
 chap thrust himself into her presence. If I were 
 her, I'd teach him to know his betters.'* 
 
 "And Farmer Pollard, and several more I 
 did not know." 
 
 ''Farmer Pollard be a great calf. He's 
 worked hard all his life, and now he be a 
 spending his gains on that dressed-up doll his 
 daughter, Miss Euphemia, as they calls her, who 
 be as proud as a peacock, and as stupid as an 
 owl. I hear she wants to pass for a fine lady, 
 because she's been at boarding-school, and is
 
 296 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 like to inherit her fathers strong box ; but she 
 be no more to be compared with Miss Miranda 
 than a goose is to be compared to a swan." 
 
 " And so it be such as these !" added the 
 old woman, sharply, "that Miss Miranda be 
 obliged to put up with as her escort, as she 
 calls it. I tell ye what, Effie, if it warn't for 
 the biggest villain as ever lived, instead of 
 farmers, and farmers' sons, and such cattle, 
 she'd have squires, and lords, and dukes arter 
 her by scores." 
 
 " I'm sure I wish she had, grandmother ; 
 though I don't think any of 'em could love her 
 better than I do." 
 
 " Perhaps things be better as they be," 
 replied the old grandam, with a graver face. 
 "My confidence in great folk bean't what it 
 used to be ; and w^hen I remember what her 
 mother was, and of what horrible villany she 
 were made the victim, I be almost inclined to 
 think as little folk be the most happiest." 
 
 " You often said, dear grandmother, you'd
 
 THE GOLDEN CALF. 297 
 
 tell me some day all about this sad story of our 
 mistress." 
 
 "I doan't like to talk about it, Effie. It 
 makes me so wild, I feels as I could do summut 
 dreadful to think on, if I was only to come face 
 to face with the villain as did so much mischief." 
 
 " For goodness' sake, don't !" exclaimed the 
 child, half frightened at the old woman's earnest 
 tones ; '* ye might get put in the cage, grand- 
 mother." 
 
 " I wouldn't care where I were put, could I 
 only have my will of him," she added, deter- 
 minedly. 
 
 " But who be him as I hears you and grand- 
 father a speaking of so often ?" inquired Effie ; 
 « and what did he do ?" 
 
 " You musn't say a word to Miss Miranda," 
 said the other, solemnly ; " I wouldn't have her 
 know so much as a single syllable of what I be 
 a-going to tell ye, for the whole universal world." 
 
 " I won't say a word to her or any one," 
 replied the child ; and she looked up into the
 
 298 THE GOLDEN CALF. 
 
 face of her ancient relative with a countenance 
 in which terror and curiosity seemed strugghng 
 for the mastery. 
 
 "Then I'll tell ye the whole truth; and a 
 dreadful secret it be, Effie, as ever was heard 
 by mortal ears." 
 
 The little Effie looked still more anxious, 
 
 " It be rather a long story, but I must begin 
 at the beginning. When I lived " 
 
 Here the parlour-bell rang, and as the 
 anxious listener was obliged to attend to it, the 
 relation of the dreadful secret was necessarily 
 deferred. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 T. C. Newby, Printer, Welbeck Street.