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 L I 5 R.ARY 
 
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 or ILLINOIS 
 
 
 V I
 
 THE INHERITANCE.
 
 I WHITE BUT OF FAMILIAR STUFFE, 
 
 BECAUSE MY STILE IS LOWE; 
 I FEAB. TO WADE IN WEIGHTIE WORKS, 
 
 OR t»AST MY REACH TO ROWE. 
 
 George Turberville. 
 
 Rinted by John Stark.
 
 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF MARRIAGE. 
 
 Si la noblesse est vertu, elle se perd par tout ce qui n'est pas vertueux ; et 
 si elle n'est pas vertu, c'est peu de chose. 
 
 LA BRUYERE. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 W^ILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH 
 
 AND T. CADELL, LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCXXV.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://vvwvv.archive.org/details/inheritance01ferri
 
 /, 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Strange is it, that our bloods 
 
 Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, 
 Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off 
 In differences so mighty." 
 
 AlVs Well thai Ends Well. 
 
 It is a truth universally acknowledged, that there 
 is no passion so deeply rooted in human nature as 
 that of pride. Whether of self or of family, of 
 deeds done in our own bodies, or deeds done in 
 the bodies of those who lived hundreds of years 
 before us — all find some foundation on which to 
 build their Tower of Babel. Even the dark un- 
 certain future becomes a bright field of promise to 
 the eye of pride, which, like Banquo's bloody 
 ghost, can smile even upon the dim perspective of 
 posthumous greatness. 
 
 VOL. I. A
 
 » THE IXHEEITAXCE. 
 
 As the noblest attribute of man, family pride 
 had been cherished time immemorial by the noble 
 race of Rossville. Deep and incurable, there- 
 fore, was the wound inflicted on all its members 
 by the marriage of the Honourable Thomas St 
 Clair, youngest son of the Earl of Rossville, with 
 the humble Miss Sarah Black, a beautiful girl of 
 obscure origin and no fortune. In such an union 
 there was every thing to exasperate, nothing to 
 mollify the outraged feelings of the Rossville fa- 
 mily, for youth and beauty were all that Mrs 
 St Clair had to oppose to pride and ambition. 
 The usual consequences, therefore, were such as 
 always have, and probably always will accompany 
 unequal alliances, viz. the displeasure of friends, 
 the want of fortune, the world's dread laugh, and, 
 in short, all the thousand natural ills that flesh is 
 heir to when it fails in its allegiance to blood. Yet 
 there are minds fitted to encounter and to over- 
 come even these — minds possessed of that inhe- 
 rent nobility which regard honour as something 
 more than a mere hereditary name, and which 
 seek the nobler distinction, open to all, in the ca- 
 reer of some honourable profession. But Mr 
 St Clair's mind was endowed with no such powers ;
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 for he was a man of weak intellects and indolent 
 habits, with just enough of feeling to wish to 
 screen himself from the poverty and contempt his 
 marriage had brought upon him. After hanging 
 on for some time in hopes of a reconciliation with 
 his family, and finding all attempts vain, he at 
 length consented to banish himself and the ob- 
 ject of their contumely to some remote quarter of 
 the world, upon condition of receiving a suitable 
 allowance so long as they should remain abroad. 
 The unfortunate pair, thus doomed to unwilling 
 exile, retired to France, where ]\Ir St Clair's 
 mind soon settled into that state which acquires 
 its name from the character of its possessor, and, 
 according to that, is called fortitude, resignation, 
 contentment, or stupidity. There, too, they soon 
 sunk into that oblivion which is sometimes the 
 portion of the living as well as the dead. His fa- 
 ther's death, which happened some years after, 
 made no alteration in his circumstances. The 
 patrimony to which he expected to succeed was 
 settled on his children, should he have any, and 
 a slender life annuity was his only portion. 
 
 The natural wish of every human being, the 
 weakest as well as the wisest, seems to be, to leave
 
 4 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 some memorial of themselves to posterity — some- 
 thing, if not to tell how their fathers thought or 
 fought, at least to show how they talked or walk- 
 ed. This wish Mr and Mrs St Clair possessed in 
 common with others ; but year after year passed 
 away, and it still remained ungratified, while 
 every year it became a still stronger sentiment, as 
 death seemed gradually clearing the way to the 
 succession. At the time of his marriage Mr St 
 Clair had been the youngest of five sons ; but 
 three of his brothers had fallen victims to war or 
 pestilence, and there now only remained the pre- 
 sent Earl and himself, both alike childless. 
 
 At length, when hope was almost extinct, Mrs 
 St Clair announced herself to be in the way of be- 
 coming a mother, and the emigrants resolved upon 
 returning to their native land, that their child 
 might there first see the light. Previous to tak- 
 ing this step however, the important intelligence 
 was communicated to Lord Rossville, and also 
 their intention of immediately proceeding to Scot- 
 land, if agreeable to him ; at the same time ex- 
 pressing a wish, that he would favour them with 
 his advice and opinion, as they would be entirely 
 guided by him in their plans.
 
 CHAPTER T. 5 
 
 Lord Rossville was a man who liked to be con- 
 sulted, and to overturn every plan which he him- 
 self had not arranged ; and as Mr St Clair had 
 spoken of taking shipping from Bourdeaux, where 
 they then were, and going by sea to Scotland, 
 Lord Rossville in his answer expressed his de- 
 cided disapprobation of such a scheme, in Mrs 
 St Clair's situation, and in stormy winter weather. 
 But he enclosed a route by way of Paris, which 
 he had made out for them with his own hand, 
 and directed them, upon their arrival there, to 
 signify the same to him, and there to remain un- 
 til he had resolved upon what was next to be 
 done, as he had by no means made up his mind 
 as to the propriety, or at least the necessity, of 
 their returning to Scotland. The packet also con- 
 tained an order for a sum of money,. and letters to 
 some friends of his own at Paris, who would be of 
 service to Mrs St Clair. So far all was kind and 
 conciliating, and the exiles, after much delay, set 
 forth upon their journey, according to the rules 
 prescribed by the Earl — but, within a day's jour- 
 ney of Paris, Mrs St Clair was taken prematurely 
 ill, and there, at an obscure village, gave birth 
 to a daughter, which, as Mr St Clair sensibly re-
 
 6 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 marked, though not so good as a boy, was yet 
 better than nothing at all. As the Salique law 
 was not in force in the Rossville family, the sex 
 of the child, was indeed, a matter of little conse- 
 quence, save in the eyes of such as are sturdy 
 sticklers for man's supremacy. Its health and 
 strength were therefore the chief objects of con- 
 sideration, and, although born in the seventh 
 month, it was a remarkably fine thriving baby, 
 which Mrs St Clair, contrary to the common 
 practice of mothers, ascribed entirely to the ex- 
 cellence of its nurse. 
 
 They had been fortunate enough to meet with 
 a woman of a superior class, who, having recent- 
 ly lost her husband and her own infant, had 
 readily adopted this one, and as readily transfer- 
 red to it that abundant stock of love and tender- 
 ness, which those dealers in the milk of human 
 kindness, always have so freely to bestow on their 
 nursling for the time. Mrs St Clair's recovery 
 was tedious, and her general health she declared 
 to be so much impaired, that she could not think 
 of encountering the severity of a northern cli- 
 mate. Instead of prosecuting their journey 
 therefore, they retired to the south of France,
 
 CHAPTER I. 7 
 
 and, after moving about for some time, finally 
 settled there. This was not what the Earl had 
 intended, for, although pride still opposed his 
 brother's return to Scotland, he had, at the same 
 time, wished to have the family somewhere with- 
 in the sphere of his observation and control, — 
 the more especially, as having lately separated 
 from his lady, his brother's child might now be 
 regarded as presumptive heiress to the family ho- 
 nours. He had purposed, and, indeed, pressed 
 to have the Httle Gertrude transmitted to him, 
 that she might have the advantage of being 
 trained up under his own eye, but to this Mrs 
 St Clair would not consent. She declared, in 
 the most polite but decided manner, her deter- 
 mination never to part with her child, but pro- 
 mised that, as soon as her health was sufficiently 
 re-established, they would return to Britain, and 
 that Lord Rossville should have the direction 
 and superintendence, if he pleased, of the young 
 heiress's education. But some obstacle, real or 
 pretended, always arose to prevent the accom- 
 plishment of this plan, till at length, Mr St Clair 
 was struck with a palsy, which rendered it impos- 
 sible for him to be removed. Dead to all the
 
 8 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 purposes of life, he lingered on for several years, 
 one of those melancholy mementos, who, with a 
 human voice and human shape, have survived 
 every thing human besides. 
 
 At length death claimed him as his own, and 
 the widow lost no time in announcing the event 
 to the Earl, and in craving his advice and pro- 
 tection for herself and daughter. A very polite, 
 though long-winded, reply was received from Lord 
 Rossville, in which he directed that Mrs and 
 Miss St Clair should immediately repair to Ross- 
 ville Castle, there to remain until he should have 
 time and opportunity fully to digest the plans he 
 had formed for the pupillage of his niece. This 
 invitation was too advantageous to be refused, 
 even although the terms in which it was couched 
 were not very alluring either to the mother or 
 daughter. With a mixture, therefore, of plea- 
 sure and regret, they hastened to exchange the 
 gay vineyards, and bright suns of France, for the 
 bleak hills and frowning skies of Scotland.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hope well to have, hate not past thought ; 
 For cruel storms fair calms have brought : 
 After sharp showers the sun shines fair, 
 Hope comes likewise after despair. 
 
 Richard Alison. 
 
 Many- years had elapsed since Mrs St Clair 
 had left her native land, and those who had known 
 her then could scarcely have recognised her now, 
 so completely had the tout ensemble changed its 
 character. The blooming hoyden, with her awk- 
 ward habits, and provincial dialect, had been 
 gradually transformed into the beautiful woman, 
 graceful in her movements, and polished, though 
 elaborate in her manners. Though now long 
 past her meridian, she was still handsome, and to 
 superficial observers could be captivating; but 
 the change was merely outward, proceeding from 
 no innate delicacy of thought or ennobling prin- 
 ciple of action. It was solely the result of nice 
 tact, knowledge of the world, and long intercourse
 
 10 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 with foreigners. The mind remained the same, 
 although the matter had been modified. 
 
 In her early days her pride and ambition had 
 been excited, by making what was considered a 
 splendid alliance, and it was not till her under- 
 standing was thoroughly ripened, that she made 
 the mortifying discovery, that high birth, when 
 coupled with personal insignificance, adds no 
 more to real distinction than a flaming sign does 
 to an ill kept inn. It was this disappointment, 
 which, operating on a naturally proud and vio- 
 lent temper, had brought into play all the worst 
 qualities of her nature, and made her look upon 
 the world as indeed a stage, where all the men 
 and women were merely players. To act a grand 
 and conspicuous part, and regain the station her 
 husband's pusillanimity had lost, was therefore 
 now her sole aim. 
 
 It rarely happens, that one artificial mind can 
 succeed in forming another — we seldom imitate 
 what we do not love. There is something in hu- 
 man nature which recoils from an artificial cha- 
 racter even more than from a faulty one, and 
 where the attempt fails, the revulsion generally 
 produces a character of a totally different stamp.
 
 CHAPTER II. 11 
 
 Mrs St Clair had spared no pains to render her 
 daughter as great an adept in dissimulation as she 
 was herself; but all her endeavours had proved 
 unsuccessful, and ]\liss St Clair remained pretty 
 much as nature had formed her — a mixture of 
 wheat and tares, flowers and weeds. There ex- 
 isted no sort of sympathy or congeniality of mind 
 between the mother and daughter — there seemed 
 little even of that natural affection which often 
 supplies the want of kindred feeling, or similar 
 tastes, and wliich serves to bind together, hearts 
 which no human process ever could have brought 
 to amalgamate. Without any point of resem- 
 blance in their characters or ideas, there was con- 
 sequently little interchange of thought, and when 
 Gertrude did address her mother, it was more 
 from the overflowings of an open heart and buoy- 
 ant spirits than from any reciprocity of feeling. 
 
 " How I wish I had Prince Houssain s glass," 
 exclaimed she, as they drew near the borders of 
 Scotland, " that I might take a peep at the peo- 
 ple I am going among — a single glance would 
 suflice to give me some idea of them, or, at least, 
 to show whether they are the sort of persons it 
 will be possible for me to love.''
 
 12 THE INlIEltlTAXCE. 
 
 " You have formed very high and somewhat 
 presumptuous ideas of your own powers of discri- 
 mination, it seems," said Mrs St Clair with a 
 disdainful smile; " but I should humbly conceive 
 that my knowledge and experience might prove 
 almost as useful as your own observations or the- 
 ories are likely to do." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, mama, but I did not 
 know you had been acquainted with the Rossville 
 family." 
 
 " I am not personally acquainted with any of 
 them — I never was — I never would have been, 
 but for you — It is upon your account I now stoop 
 to a reconciliation, which otherwise I would have 
 spurned as I have been spurned." She spoke 
 with vehemence, then in a calmer tone proceed- 
 ed : " It is natural that you should wish to know 
 something of the relations with whom you are 
 henceforth to associate, since there is nothing 
 more desirable than a previous knowledge of those 
 whom it is necessary we should please. It is only 
 from report I can speak of the Rossville family, 
 but even from report we may form a tolerably ac- 
 curate idea of people's general character. Report 
 then says, that Lord Rossville is an obstinate,
 
 CHAPTER 11. 13 
 
 troublesome, tiresome, well-behaved man ; that his 
 sister. Lady Betty, who resides with him, is a 
 harmless, dull, inquisitive old woman ; then there 
 are nephews, sister^s sons, to one of whom you are 
 probably destined ; there is ]\Ir Delmour, a weak, 
 formal parliamentary drudge, son of Lord Some- 
 body Delmour, and nephew to the Duke of Bur- 
 lington, and his brother, Colonel Delmour, a fa- 
 shionable unprincipled gamester ; and Mr Lynd- 
 say, a sort of quakerish, methodistical, sombre 
 person, all, of course, brimful of pride and preju- 
 dice. Nevertheless, beware how you contradict 
 prejudices, even knowing them to be such, for the 
 generality of people are much more tenacious of 
 their prejudices than of any thing belonging to 
 them ; and should you hear them run out in rap- 
 tures at such a prospect as this," pointing to the 
 long bleak line of Scottish coast, " even this too, 
 you must admire ; even this cold shrubless tract of 
 bare earth and stone walls, and yon dark stormy 
 sea, you will perhaps be told, (and you must as- 
 sent,) are fairer than the lihed fields and limpid 
 waters of Languedoc." 
 
 Miss St Clair remained silent for a few mo- 
 ments contemplating the scene before her ; at last
 
 14 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 she said, " Indeed, mama, I do think there is 
 something fine in such a scene as this, although 
 I can scarcely tell in what the charm consists, or 
 why it should be more deeply felt than scenes of 
 greater beauty and grandeur ; but there seems to 
 me something so simple and majestic in such an 
 expanse of mere earth and water, that I feel as if 
 I were looking on nature at the beginning of the 
 creation, when only the sea and the dry land had 
 been formed." 
 
 " Rather after the fall, methinks,"' said Mrs 
 St Clair with a bitter smile, as she drew her cloak 
 round her, " at least, I feel at present much 
 more as if I had been expelled from Paradise, 
 than as if I were entering it."' 
 
 The scene was indeed a dreary one, though 
 calculated to excite emotions, in the mind true to 
 nature in all her varied aspects ; and more espe- 
 cially in the youthful heart, where novelty alone 
 possesses a charm sufficient to call forth its ad- 
 miration. The dark lead-coloured ocean lay 
 stretched before them; its dreary expanse con- 
 cealed by lowering clouds, while the sea-fowl cla- 
 mouring in crowds to the shore, announced the 
 coming storm. The yet unclothed fields were 
 1
 
 CHAPTER TI. 15 
 
 black with crows, whose discordant cries, mingled 
 with the heavy monotonous sound of the waves, 
 as they advanced with sullen roar, and broke with 
 idle splash. A thick mist was gradually spread- 
 ing over every object — an indescribable shivering 
 was felt by every human thing which had bones 
 and skin to feel — in short, it was an east wind ; 
 and the effect of an east wind upon the east coast 
 of Scotland may have been experienced, but can- 
 not be described. 
 
 " This is dreadful !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair, 
 as her teeth chattered in her head, and her skin 
 began to rise into what is vulgarly termed goose- 
 skin. 
 
 " You do look ill, mama — you are quite a 
 pale blue, and I certainly feel as I never did be- 
 fore ;" and ]\Iiss St Clair pulled up the windows, 
 and wrapped her roquelaure still closer. The 
 French valet and abigail, who sat on the dicky, 
 looked round with pitiful faces, as though to ask, 
 " QiCest-ce que cela f Even the postilion seem- 
 ed affected in the same manner, for, stopping his 
 horses, he drew forth a ponderous many-capedgreat« 
 coat, and buttoning it up to his nose, with a look that 
 bade defiance to the weather, he pursued his route.
 
 16 THE INHERIT AXCE. 
 
 The air grew colder and colder — the mist became 
 thicker and thicker — the shrieks of the sea-fowl 
 louder and louder — till a tremendous hail shower 
 burst forth, and dashed with threatening violence 
 against the windows of the carriage. The un- 
 daunted driver was compelled to bend his purple 
 face beneath its pitiless pelting, while he urged 
 his horses as if to escape from its influence. 
 
 " This is Scotland, and this is the month of 
 May !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair with a groan, as 
 she looked on the whitened fields, and her thoughts 
 recurred to the smiling skies and balmy vernal 
 airs of Languedoc. 
 
 " Scotland has given us rather a rude welcome, 
 I must confess," said her daughter ; " but, hap- 
 pily, I am not superstitious ; and, see, it is begin- 
 ning to smile upon us already." 
 
 In a few minutes the clouds rolled away — the 
 sun burst forth in all his warmth and brilliancy 
 — the tender wheat glittered in the moisture — 
 the lark flew exulting aloft — the sea-fowl spread 
 their white wings, and skimmed over the blue 
 waters — the postilion slackened his pace, and put 
 off his great-coat: such is Scotland'*s varying 
 clime — such its varying scenery !
 
 CHAPTER Iir. 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " -My father's hous?! 
 
 Send me rot thence 
 
 DishonourM, but to wealth, to greitness rais'd." 
 
 Sophocles. 
 
 It was on a lovely evening that the travellers 
 reached their destination near the western coast of 
 Scotland. The air was soft, and the setting sun 
 shed his purple light on the mountains which 
 formed the back-gi'ound of the Iloss^'ille domains. 
 The approach wound along the side of a river, 
 which possessed all the characteristic variety of a 
 Scottish stream — now gliding silently along, or 
 seeming to stand motionless in the crystal depth 
 of some shaded pool — now chafing and giugling, 
 with lulling sound, over its pebbly bed — while 
 its steep banks presented no less changing features. 
 In some places they were covered with wood, now 
 in the first tints of spring — the formal poplar'spale 
 hue, and the fringed larch's tender green min- 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 18 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 gling with the red seared leaf of the oak, and the 
 brown opening bud of the sycamore. In others, 
 grey rocks peeped from amidst the lichens and 
 creeping plants which covered them as with a gar- 
 ment of many colours, and the wild rose decked 
 them with its transient blossoms. 
 
 Farther on the banks became less precipitous, 
 and gradually sunk into a gentle slope, covered 
 with smooth green turf, and sprinkled with trees 
 of noble size. The only sounds that mingled 
 with the rush of the stream were the rich full 
 song of the blackbird, the plaintive murmur of the 
 wood pigeon, and the abrupt, but not unmusical, 
 note of the cuckoo. Gertrude gazed with ecstasy 
 on all around, and her heart swelled with delight 
 as she thought, this fair scene she was destined 
 to inherit ; and a vague poetical feeling of love 
 and gratitude to Heaven caused her to raise her 
 eyes, swimming in tearful rapture, to the Giver 
 of all good. But it was merely the overflowing 
 of a young, enraptured, and enthusiastic mind ; no 
 deeper principle was felt or understood — no trem- 
 bling mingled with her joy — no dark future cast 
 its shadow on the mirror imagination presented to 
 her, but vision^ of pomp and power, and wealth
 
 CHAPTER III. 19 
 
 and grandeur — visions of earthly bliss — swam be- 
 fore those eyes which yet were raised from earth 
 to Heaven. She was roused from her reverie 
 by a deep sigh, or rather groan, from her mother, 
 who leant back in the carriage, seemingly over- 
 come by some painfril sensation either of mind or 
 body. Miss St Clair was accustomed to hear 
 her mother sigh, and even groan, upon very 
 slight occasions, sometimes upon no occasion at 
 all ; but, at present, there was something that be- 
 tokened an intensity of suffering too sincere for 
 feigning. 
 
 " You are ill, mama !" exclaimed she in terror, 
 as she looked on her mother's pale and agitated 
 countenance. 
 
 It was some moments ere Mrs St Clair could 
 find voice to answer — but at length, in much emo- 
 tion, she said, — 
 
 " Is it surprising that I shoiild feel, at approach- 
 ing that house from which my husband and my- 
 self were exiled — nay, were even denied an en- 
 trance ? Can you imagine that I should be un- 
 moved at the thoughts of beholding that family 
 by whom we were rendered outcasts, and whom I 
 have only known as my bitterest enemies F^
 
 20 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 Mrs St Clair's voice and her colour both rose 
 as she enumerated her injuries. 
 
 " Oh I mama, do not at such a time suffer your 
 mind to dwell upon those painful recollections ; 
 it is natural that melancholy thoughts should sug- 
 gest themselves ; but ah ! there is the cas- 
 tle,"' cried the young heiress, forgetting all her 
 mother's wrongs as the stately mansion now burst 
 upon their view ; and again her heart exulted as 
 she looked on its lofty turrets and long range of 
 arched windows glittering in the golden rays of 
 the setting sun. In another moment they found 
 themselves at the entrance ; a train of richly 
 liveried servants were stationed to receive them. 
 Mrs St Clair's agitation increased — she stopped 
 and leant upon her daughter, who feared she 
 woiild have fainted ; but making an effort, she 
 recovered her self-possession, and following the 
 servant, who led the way to the presence of his 
 l^ord, she gracefully presented her daughter to 
 him, saying, 
 
 " To your Lordship's generous protection I 
 commit my fatherless child." 
 
 Lord Rossville was a bulky, portentous-looking 
 person, with nothing marked in his physiognomy 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER III. 22 
 
 except a pair of very black elevated eyebrows, 
 which gave an unvarying expression of solemn as- 
 tonishment to his countenance. He had a husky 
 voice, and a very tedious elocution. He was 
 some little time of preparing an answer to this 
 
 address, but at last he replied, 
 
 " I shaU, rest assured. Madam, make a point 
 of fulfilling, to the utmost of my power and abi, 
 lities, the highly important duties of the parental 
 office;' 
 
 He then saluted his sister-in-law and niece, 
 and taking a hand of each, led them to a taU thin 
 grey old woman, with a long inquisitive-looking 
 nose, whom he named as Lady Betty St Clair. 
 
 Lady Betty rose from her seat with that sort 
 of deliberate bustle which generaUy attends the 
 rising up and the sitting down of old ladies, and 
 may be intended to show that it is not an every. 
 day affair with them, to practise such condescen- 
 sion. Having taken off her spectacles. Lady 
 Betty carefully deposited them within a large 
 work-basket, out of which protruded a tiger's 
 head in worsted work, and a volume of a novel. 
 She next lifted a cambric handkerchief from off a 
 fat sleepy lap-dog which lay upon her knees, and
 
 %% THE INHERiTANCE. 
 
 deposited it on a cushion at her feet. She then 
 put aside a small fly table, which stood before 
 her as a sort of out-work, and thus freed from all 
 impediments, welcomed her guests, and after re- 
 garding them with looks only expressive of stupid 
 curiosity, she motioned to them to be seated, and 
 replaced herself with even greater commotion 
 than she had risen up. Such a reception was not 
 calculated to call forth feelings of the most plea- 
 surable kind, and Gertrude felt chilled at man- 
 ners so different from the bland courtesy to which 
 she had been accustomed, and her heart sunk at 
 the thoughts of being domesticated with people 
 who appeared so dull and unpleasing. The very 
 apartment seemed to partake of the character of 
 its inmates ; it had neither the solid magnificence 
 of ancient times, nor the elegant luxury of the 
 present age ; neither the grotesque ornaments 
 of antiquity, nor the amusing litter of fashion- 
 able baubles for the eye to have recourse to. 
 Lady Betty's huge work-basket was the only in- 
 dication that the apartment was inhabited — an 
 air of stiff propriety — of splendid discomfort, 
 reigned throughout. 
 
 The usual, and more than the usual questions
 
 CHAPTER III. 23 
 
 were put by the Earl and his sister, as to time 
 and distance, and roads and drivers, and inns 
 and beds, and weather and dust ; and all were an- 
 swered by Mrs St Clair in the manner most cal- 
 culated to conciliate those with whom she con- 
 versed — till, in the course of half an hour. Lord 
 Rossville was of opinion, that she was one of the 
 best bred, best informed, most sensible, ladylike 
 women he had ever conversed with — and his Lord- 
 ship was not a person who was apt to form hasty 
 opinions upon any subject. 
 
 Lord Rossville's character was one of those, 
 whose traits, though minute, are as strongly 
 marked as though they had been cast in a large 
 mould. But, as not even the powers of the mi- 
 croscope can impart strength and beauty to the 
 object it magnifies, so no biographer could have 
 exaggerated into virtues the petty foibles of his 
 mind. Yet the predominating quahties were such 
 as often cast a false glory around their possessor 
 — for the love of power and the desire of human 
 applause were the engrossing principles of his 
 soul. In strong capacious minds, and in great 
 situations, these incentives often produce brilliant 
 results ; but in a weak contracted mind, moving
 
 24 THE IXHERITA^^CE. 
 
 in the narrow sphere of domestic life, they could 
 only circulate through the thousand little chan- 
 nels that tend to increase or impair domestic hap- 
 piness. As he was not addicted to any particu- 
 lar vice, he considered himself as a man of per- 
 fect virtue ; and having been, in some respects, 
 very prosperous in his fortune, he was thorough- 
 ly satisfied that he was a person of the most con- 
 summate wisdom. With these ideas of himself, 
 it is not surprising that he should have deemed 
 it his bounden duty to direct and manage every 
 man, woman, child, or animal, who came within 
 his sphere, and that too in the most tedious and 
 tormenting manner. Perhaps the most teazing 
 point in his character was his ambition — the fatal 
 ambition of thousands — to be thought an eloquent 
 and impressive speaker, even on the commonest 
 affairs of domestic life ; for this purpose, he al- 
 ways used ten times as many words as were ne- 
 cessary to express his meaning, and those too of 
 the longest and strongest description. Another 
 of his tormenting peculiarities was his desire of 
 explaining everything, by which he always per- 
 plexed and mystified the simplest subject. Yet 
 he had his gocd points, for he wished to see
 
 CHAPTER III. 25 
 
 t 
 
 those around him happy, provided he was the 
 dispenser of their happiness, and that they were 
 happy precisely in the manner and degree he 
 thought proper. He was a sort of petty benevo- 
 lent tyrant ; and any attempt to enlarge his soul, 
 or open his understanding, would have been in 
 vain. His mind was already full, as full as it 
 could hold, of little thoughts, little plans, little 
 notions, little prejudices, little whims, and no- 
 thing short of regeneration could have made 
 him otherwise. He had a code of laws, a code 
 of -proprieties, a code of dehcacies, all his own, 
 and he had long languished for subjects to ex- 
 ecute them upon. ]\Irs St Clair and her daugh- 
 ter were therefore no small acquisitions to his 
 family — he looked upon them as two very fine 
 pieces of wax, ready to receive whatever im- 
 pression he chose to give them; and the hum- 
 ble confiding manner in which his niece had 
 been committed to him, had at once secured 
 both to mother and daughter his favour and 
 protection. Lady Betty's character does not 
 possess materials to furnish so long a commen- 
 tary. She was chiefly remarkable for the quan- 
 tity of worsted work she executed, which, for a
 
 26 
 
 THE IXHElllTANCE. 
 
 person of her time of life, was considered no less 
 extraordinary than meritorious. She was now 
 employed on her fifth rug — the colours were orange 
 and blue — the pattern an orange tiger couchant 
 picked out with scarlet upon an azure ground. 
 She also read all the novels and romances which 
 it is presumed are published for the exclusive be- 
 nefit of superannuated old women, and silly 
 young ones ; such as the Enchanted Head — the 
 Invisible Hand — the Miraculous Nuptials, &c. 
 he. &c. She was now in the midst of '* Bewil- 
 dered Affections, or All is not Lost,'' which she 
 was reading, unconsciously, for the third time, 
 with unbroached delight. Lastly, she carefully 
 watched over a fat, pampered, ill-natured lap-dog, 
 subject to epilepsy, and asked a great many use- 
 less questions which few people thought of an- 
 swering. 
 
 These were the only members of the family 
 who appeared, but Lord Rossville mentioned, 
 that two of his nephews were on a visit in the 
 neighbourhood, and might be expected the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 " Since you are now. Madam," said he, address- 
 ing Mrs St Clair, " become as it were incorpo-
 
 CHAPTER- III. 
 
 rated in the Rossville family, it is proper and 
 expedient that you should be made acquainted 
 with all its members. I do not mean that ac- 
 quaintance which a personal introduction con- 
 veys, but that knowledge which we acquire by a 
 preconceived opinion, founded upon the expe- 
 rience of those on whose judgment and accuracy 
 we can rely. I shall, therefore, give you such 
 information regarding the junior members of this 
 family, as observation and opportunity have af- 
 forded me, and which, I flatter myself, may not 
 prove altogether unacceptable or unavaihng." 
 The Earl paused, hemmed, and proceeded. 
 " The senior of the two juvenile members to 
 whom you will, in all probabiHty, be introduced 
 in the course of a very short period, is Lieuten- 
 ant-Colonel Frederick Delmour, youngest son of 
 the late Lord George Delmour, who was second 
 son of James Duke of BurHngton, by the Mar- 
 chioness of Effenford, widow of the deceased 
 Charles Chaloner, Marquis of Effenford, who died 
 at an early period, leaving one son, the present 
 Augustus ]\Iarquis of EflPenford, married to the La- 
 dy Isabella Cadrington, daughter of the Duke of 
 Litchfield, and one daughter, the present much
 
 28 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 admired Countess of Lymington ; — on the other 
 hand, William Henry, the present Duke of Bur- 
 lington, espoused the only daughter of that illus- 
 trious statesman, John Earl of Harleigh, by 
 whom he has issue one son, the Marquis of Has- 
 lingden, now abroad on account of the delicate 
 and precarious state of his health. Thus it hap- 
 pens, and I hope I have made it sufficiently clear, 
 that certain members of this family are at the 
 same time united either by consanguinity, or by 
 collateral connection of no remote degree, with 
 many — I might say with most — of the illustrious 
 families in the sister kingdom. 
 
 " ]My sister, the Lady Augusta Delmour, wi- 
 dow of the late Lord George Delmour, at present 
 resides in the metropolis with her three daugh- 
 ters — one of vvdiom is, I understand, on the eve 
 of forming a highly honourable and advantageous 
 alliance with the eldest son of a' certain Baronet of 
 large fortune and extensive property in the south- 
 ern extremity of the island — but of this it might 
 not be altogether delicate to say more at present. 
 Colonel Frederick Delmour, then, the subject of 
 our more immediate consideration — is in himself 
 a gentleman of figure, fashion, accomplishments,
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 and of very distinguished bravery in his highly 
 honourable profession. He has already had the 
 honour of being twice slightly wounded in the 
 field of battle, and in being made very honoura- 
 ble mention of in the dispatches from the Earl of 
 Marsham to his Royal Highness the Commander- 
 in-chief In these respects, the dignity and un- 
 tarnished honour of the noble families to which 
 he belongs have suffered no diminution in his 
 person ; but it is to his elder brother,'" and he now 
 turned towards Miss St Clair, " that we — that is, 
 the Duke of Burhngton and myself, look as to 
 one who is to add still greater lustre to the coro- 
 Qets with which he is so intimately connected. 
 To all the natural advantages, accomplishments, 
 and acquirements of his brother, he unites ad- 
 dress and abihties of the highest order, by m.eans 
 of which he has already acted a most distinguish- 
 ed part in the senate, and bids fair to become one 
 of the first — if not the first, statesman of this, or, 
 indeed, of any age.'' The Earl paused, as if over- 
 come with the prophetic visions which crowded 
 on his mind. 
 
 " What time of night is it r"" asked Lady Betty. 
 
 The Earl, recalled from his high anticipations,
 
 30 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 and reminded of the lapse of time, resumed his 
 discourse, but in a less lofty tone. " The junior 
 member of this family, whom I have now to present 
 to you, is Edward Lyndsay, Esquire, of Lynn- 
 wood, in this county, only child of the late Ed- 
 ward Lyndsay of Lynnwood, Esquire, and my 
 youngest sister, the deceased Lady Jane St Clair. 
 The late Mr Lyndsay was descended from an 
 ancient and highly respectable family, but, by cer- 
 tain ancestral imprudences, was considerably in- 
 volved and embarrassed during his life, in so 
 much, that he was under the necessity of accept- 
 ing a situation in one of our colonial settlements, 
 whither he was accompanied by Lady Jane» 
 Both, I lament to say, fell victims, in a short pe- 
 riod, to the pestilential effects of the climate, 
 leaving this young man, then an infant of three 
 years and a half old, to my sole protection and 
 guardianship. How these duties were discharged, 
 it is not for me to say ; only, in justice to myself, 
 I deem it right and proper to state, that, at the 
 expiry of the minority, the estate then was — (I 
 say nothing of the means or management — let 
 these speak for themselves — I simply deem it due 
 to myself to state, that the estate was then) — ^free. 
 
 4
 
 CHAPTER III. 31 
 
 If It is so no longer — " and the Earl bowed, and 
 waved his hands in that significant manner which 
 says, " I wash my hands of it.'' But his Lord- 
 ship took a long time even to wash his hands, for 
 he still went on — " There is, perhaps, no great- 
 er or more insuperable impediment to radical im- 
 provement in youth, and it is, I lament to say, 
 one of the most distinguishing characteristics of 
 the age in which we live, than a disregard for 
 the warning voice of those who have, with honour, 
 advantage, and dignity, arrived at that period of 
 hfe when they are entitled to the meed of, at least, 
 experience. Had Mr Lyndsay followed the path 
 which, with infinite consideration, I had marked 
 out for him, he might now, by the instrumentah- 
 ty of those great and noble family connections he 
 possesses, have been on the high road to honour, 
 wealth, distinction, and self-approbation. As it 
 is, he has chosen, contrary to my recommendation, 
 to decline the highly advantageous situation of- 
 fered to him in our Asiatic dominions, assigning 
 as his sole reason, that he was satisfied with what 
 he already had, and meant to devote himself to 
 the management and improvement of his own 
 -estate. A young man in his situation in life.
 
 S2 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 scarcely yet twenty-six years of age, highly edu- 
 cated, as I made it a point he should be, and 
 possessed of an ancient family estate, by no means 
 great, and, I much fear, not wholly unincum- 
 bered, to refuse a situation of such honour, emo- 
 lument, and patronage ! — Mr Lyndsay may be 
 a good man ; but it was my most anxious wish 
 and endeavour to have made him more — I would 
 have made him — had he submitted to my guid- 
 ance and control — I would have made him a 
 great man !'^ 
 
 The solemn and dignified silence which fol- 
 lowed this was happily broken by the announce- 
 ment of supper. The evening wore slowly away, 
 for each minute seemed like a drop of lead to 
 Miss St Clair, who was more of an age and tem- 
 perament to enjoy, than to endure. At length it 
 ended, and she retired to her apartment with 
 mingled feelings of pleasure and disappointment.
 
 CHAPTER IV, 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " life ! how pleasant in thy morning, 
 Young Fancy's rays thy hills adorning ! 
 Cold-pausing caution's lessons scorning, 
 
 We frisk away, 
 Like school-boys at th' expected warning, 
 
 To joy and play.' 
 
 Burns. 
 
 The following morning Gertrude rose early, 
 impatient to take an unmolested survey of what 
 she already looked upon as her own. The suite 
 of public rooms engaged but little of her atten- 
 tion ; she had already settled, in her own mind, 
 that these must be completely new furnished, 
 and with this sweeping resolution, she passed 
 quickly through them, merely stopping to ex- 
 amine the few pictures they contained. An open 
 door, an almost dark passage, and a turnpike 
 stair, at length presented themselves as stimu- 
 lants to her curiosity, and tempted her to diverge 
 from the straight line she had hitherto followed. 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 34? THE IXHEltlTANCE. 
 
 It was the original part of the building, to which 
 a modern Gothic front had been affixed, and she 
 soon found herself in all the inextricable maze of 
 long narrow passages, leading only to disappoint- 
 ment, — steps which seemed to have been placed, 
 as if on purpose, to make people stumble — and 
 little useless rooms, which looked as if they had 
 been contrived solely for the pastime of hide and 
 seek. At length she entered one she guessed 
 to be Lord Rossville's study, and was hastily re- 
 treating, when her eye was caught by an old-fa* 
 shioned glass door, opening upon a shrubbery. 
 She tried to open it, but it was locked ; the pro- 
 spect from without was alluring, and she felt un- 
 willing to turn away from it ; the windows were 
 but a little distance from the ground, and, having 
 opened one, and smelt the violets that grew be- 
 neath, her next impulse was to spring lightly 
 through it into the garden. As she inhaled the 
 fresh morning air, fraught with the sweets of 
 early summer, where " the scent comes and goes 
 like the warbling of music,'' and looked on the 
 lovely landscape as it shone in the deep calm ra- 
 diance of the morning sun, her heart, glowing with 
 all the joyousness of youth and health, exuUed in
 
 CHAPTER IV. ' 35 
 
 the brightness of creation. She wandered to a 
 considerable distance, till, having gained the top 
 of an eminence, she stood to adniire the effect 
 of some cottages situated on the green shelving 
 bank which overhung the river. " What a 
 pretty picturesque thing a cottage is," thought 
 she to herself; " how gracefully its smoke rises 
 from among the trees, and contrasts with the 
 clear atmosphere around. When this is mine, I 
 will certainly have some pretty cottages built in 
 sight of the castle, and have the good people to 
 dance on the green sward before their doors in an 
 evening when their work is done. O, how easy it 
 must be to be good, when one has the power of 
 doing good !" 
 
 Ignorant of herself and of the nature of the 
 human heart, Gertrude believed that to will and 
 to do were one and the same ; as yet untaught, 
 that all vague baseless schemes of virtue, all vain 
 romantic dreams of benevolence, are as much the 
 cobwebs of imagination as the air-built castles of 
 human happiness, whether of love, glory, riches, 
 or ambition. 
 
 The beauty of the morning — the interest each 
 object excited— the song of the birds— the smell of
 
 36 THE IKHEniTANCE. 
 
 the opening flowers — the sound of the waters, all 
 combined to lull her visionary mind into an Ely- 
 sium of her own creating, and as she walked 
 along, in all the ideal enjoyment of her Utopian 
 schemes, she found herself at the door of one of 
 those cottages, whose picturesque appearance had 
 charmed her so much at a distance. A nearer 
 survey, however, soon satisfied her, that the view 
 owed all its charms to distance. Some coarse, 
 lint-haired, mahogany-faced, half-naked urchins, 
 with brown legs and black feet, were dabbling in 
 a gutter before the door, while some bigger ones 
 were pursuing a pig and her litter, seemingly for 
 the sole purpose of amusement. 
 
 " What a pity those children are all so ugly !" 
 thought Miss St Clair ; "it would have been so 
 delightful to have had them all nicely dressed, 
 and have taught them myself; but they are so 
 frightful, I could have no pleasure in seeing 
 them." However, she overcame her repugnance 
 so far as to accost them. " Would not you like 
 to be made nice and clean, and have pretty new 
 clothes ?"" 
 
 " Aye !'' answered one of them with a broad 
 stare, and still broader accent.
 
 CHAPTER IV. Oi 
 
 " And to go to school, and be taught to read, 
 and write, and work ?*" 
 
 " Naw !" answered the whole troop with one 
 voice, as they renewed their splashing with fresh 
 vigour. Miss St Clair made no farther attempts 
 in that quarter, but she entered the cottage, care- 
 fully picking her steps, and wrapping her gar- 
 ments close round her, to prevent their contract- 
 ing any impurities. The smoke, which had figured 
 so graceftilly out of doors, had a very different 
 effect within, and she stood a few minutes on the 
 threshold before she could summon courage to 
 penetrate farther. At length, as her eyes got 
 accustomed to the palpable obscure, she discover- 
 ed the figure of a man, seated in a wooden chair 
 by the fire, in a ragged coat and striped woollen 
 nightcap. " He is ill, poor creature,*" thought 
 she, and quickly advancing, she wished him good 
 morning. Her salutation was respectfully re- 
 turned, and the man, making an effort to rise, 
 invited her to be seated with considerable cour- 
 tesy. 
 
 '' I am afraid you are ill," said Gertrude, de- 
 clining the invitation, and looking with compas- 
 sion on his lean sallow visage.
 
 38 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 " Oo, \leed he's very ill, my Leddy,'' cried a 
 voice from behind, and presently advanced a 
 stout, blooming, broad-faced dame, clad in a 
 scanty blue flannel petticoat and short-gown. 
 She was encompassed by a girr or hoop support- 
 ing two stoups,* a piece of machinery altogether 
 peculiar to Scotland. Having disengaged her- 
 self from this involvement or convolvement, she 
 dropt a curtsey to her guest, and then wiping 
 down a chair, pressed her to be seated. 
 
 " The gudeman's really extraordinar ill, my 
 Leddy," continued she in a high key. " I'm 
 sure I ken na what to do wi' him ; it was first a 
 sutten doon cauld, an' noo he's fa'n in till a sort 
 o' a dwinin like, an' atweel I dinna think he'll 
 e'er get the better o't." 
 
 " Have you any doctor to see him .?" inquired 
 Miss St Clair. 
 
 " Oo, 'tweel he's had doctors eneugh, an' nae- 
 thing's been spared on him. I'm sure he's pit- 
 ten as muckle doctor's stuff o' ae kind an' anither 
 in till himsel' as might hae pushened him twen- 
 
 * A stoup is neither a bucket, nor a pitcher, nor a jar, nor 
 an any thing but a stoup.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 39 
 
 ty times ower ; but weel a wat, I think the mair 
 he taks the waur he grows." 
 
 '* Perhaps he takes too much medicine/'' 
 
 " 'Deed I'll no say but he may, but ye ken, my 
 Leddy, what can he do ? — he maun tak what the 
 doctor sends him — the things canna be lost ; but 
 'tweel he's very sweered to tak them whiles, tho' 
 I'm sure muckle money they cost, an', as I tell 
 him, they're dear morsels.'' 
 
 " Perhaps if he were to leave off the medicines, 
 and try the effect of fresh air and good milk, 
 and soup, which I shall endeavour to procure for 
 him" 
 
 '* I'm sure we're muckle obliged to you, my 
 Leddy, but he need nae want for fresh air, he can 
 get eneugh o' that ony day by gawen to the door ; 
 but there's nae gettin him to stir frae the chimley 
 lug ; and, 'deed, I canna say he wants for milk or 
 broth either, for ane o' the young gentlemen up 
 bye spoke to my Lord for us, and he's really no 
 to mean for his meat if he wad tak it ; as I tell 
 him whiles, my certy, mony a ane wad be glad to 
 hae't for the takin." 
 
 '' Is there any thing else, then, in which I can 
 be of use to you ?" inquired Miss St Clair, now
 
 40 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 addressing the invalid, " is there any thing you 
 particularly wish for ?"' 
 
 The man held up a ragged elbow — " Gin your 
 Leddyship has an auld coat to spare," said he, in 
 a hesitating voice. 
 
 " An auld coat !" interposed his dame ; " oo, 
 what could pit an auld coat in your head, Tam ? 
 I'm sure there's a hantel things mair needfu' than 
 an auld coat — no that he wad be the waur o"* a coat 
 neither, for he has naething atween that puir dud 
 on his back and his marriage ane, and his Sabbath- 
 day suit in the kist there." 
 
 " Pray let me know what things are most want- 
 ed for your husband's comfort," said Miss St Clair, 
 " and I shall make a point of sending them — a 
 
 bit of carpet, for instance" looking upon the 
 
 damp clay floor. 
 
 " Wud ye like a bit carpet, Tam, the leddy 
 asks ?" roared his wife to him ; then, without 
 waiting for an answer, 
 
 " Oo, 'deed he disna ken what he wud like ; 
 an' he's ne'er been used till a carpet, and I dam- 
 say it wud just be a disconvenience to him, noo 
 that he canna be fashed wi' ony thing — no but 
 what he might pit up wi' a bit carpet, I'se war-
 
 CHAPTER IV. 41 
 
 ran\ if he had ither things that are a hantel mair 
 needfu\" 
 
 " A more comfortable chair, then, I may sure- 
 ly send,"' said Gertrude, still persisting in her be- 
 nevolent attempts. 
 
 " The leddy's for sendin' ye anither chyre. 
 Tarn,'' again shouted his tender helpmate — the 
 husband nodded his assent ; " but, 'tweel, he's 
 sutten sae lang in that ane, I doot it's no worth 
 his while to chynge 't noo ; and I dinna think he 
 could be fashed wi' anither chyre — no but what 
 we micht pit up wi' anither chyre or twa, if we 
 had aw thing else wise-like."' 
 
 " I am sorry there is nothing I can think of 
 that would be acceptable to you" 
 
 " Oo, I'll no say that, my Leddy," briskly in- 
 terrupted the hostess ; " there's a hantel things, 
 weel a wat, we hae muckle need o' — for ae thing 
 — but I maist think shame to tell't — an' it's really 
 nae faut o' mine neither, my Leddy ; but it's just 
 sae happent, wi' ae thing an' anither, I hae ne'er 
 gotten a steek o' the gudeman's dead claise ready 
 — and noo to think that he's drawin' near his end, 
 I'm sure I canna tell the vexation it's cost me." 
 Here the dame drew a deep sigh, and wiped her
 
 42 THE INIIERITAXCE. 
 
 eyes with the comer of her apron, then proceeded 
 
 «' Siena a discreditable like thing to hae said, 
 
 an' sic a comfort as, nae doot, it wad be to him to 
 see aw thing ready and wise-like afore he gaed out 
 o' the world — A suit o' gude bein comfortable 
 dead claise, Tammes," appeahng to her husband, 
 " wad set ye better than aw the braw chyres an' 
 carpets i' the toon. No but what if ance ye had 
 the tane, ye micht pit up wi' the tither ; but wad 
 nae't be a bonny-like thing to see you set up wi' a 
 braw carpet, and a saft chyre, an' to think ye had 
 nae sa muckle as a wise-hke windin' sheet to row 
 ye in ?" 
 
 A great deal of the pathos of this harangue 
 was, of course, unintelligible to Miss St Clair ; 
 but she comprehended the main scope of it, and, 
 somewhat shocked at this Scotch mode of evinc- 
 ing conjugal affection, she put down some money 
 and withdrew, rather surprised to find what dif- 
 ferent ideas of comfort prevailed in different coun- 
 tries, and a good deal disappointed in the failure 
 of her benevolent intentions.
 
 CHAl'TER V. 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 What kind of catechizing call you this ? 
 
 Much Ado about K^o tilings 
 
 Time had passed unheeded, and chance, rather 
 than design, led Miss St Clair to retrace her stej^s, 
 when, as she drew near the castle, she was met by 
 one of the servants, who informed her, that he 
 and several others had been sent in search of her, 
 as it was long past the breakfast hour, and the fa- 
 mily had been some time assembled. Ashamed of 
 her own thoughtlessness, she quickened her steps, 
 and desiring the servant to show the way to the 
 breakfast-room, without waiting to adjust her 
 dress, she hastily entered, eager to apologize for 
 her transgression. But the di*ead solemnity that 
 sat on Lord Rossville's brow made her falter in her 
 purpose. With the tea-pot in one hand, with the 
 other he made an awful wave for her to be seated. 
 Lady Betty was busy mixing a mess of hot rolls,
 
 44 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 cream, and sugar, for her epileptic lap-dog. An 
 impending storm sat on Mrs St Clair's face, but 
 veiled under an appearance of calm dignified dis- 
 pleasure. Gertrude felt as if denounced by the 
 whole party — she knew not for what, unless for 
 having been twenty minutes too late for breakfast, 
 and, in some trepidation, she began to apologize 
 for her absence. Lord Rossville gave several 
 deep sepulchral hems, then, as if he had been 
 passing sentence upon a criminal, said, — 
 
 " I am not averse to postpone the discussion of 
 this delicate and painful investigation. Miss St 
 Clair, until you shall have had the benefit of re- 
 freshment."" 
 
 Gertrude was confounded — " My Lord!" ex- 
 claimed she, in amazement, '' I am very sorry if 
 any thing has occurred,'' — and she looked round 
 for an explanation. 
 
 Lord Rossville hemmed — looked still more ap- 
 palling, and then spoke as follows : — 
 
 " You are doubtless aware. Miss St Clair, 
 that, in all countries where civilization and refine- 
 ment have made any considerable progress, female 
 delicacy and propriety are — are ever held in the 
 highest estimation and esteem."
 
 CHAPTER V. 45 
 
 His Lordship paused ; and as no contradiction 
 was offered to this his proem, he proceeded — 
 
 " But you must, or certainly ought ^ to be like- 
 wise aware, that it is not merely these \'irtues 
 themselves which must be carefully implanted, 
 and \dgilantly watched over, in the young and 
 tender female — for even the possession of the \dr- 
 tues themselves are not a sufficient shield for the 
 female character. It was a maxim of Julius Cae- 
 sar's, unquestionably the greatest conqueror that 
 ever lived, that his wife must not only be spot- 
 less in herself, but that she must not even be sus- 
 pected by others ; a maxim that, in my opinion, 
 deserves to be engraven in letters of gold, and 
 certainly cannot be too early, or too deeply, im- 
 printed on the young and tender female breast.'' 
 
 His Lordship had gained a cUmax, and he 
 stopped, overpowered with his own eloquence. 
 Mrs St Clair made a movement expressive of 
 the deepest attention, and most profound admira- 
 tion. 
 
 " Such being my sentiments — sentiments in 
 which I am borne out by the testimony of one of 
 the greatest men who ever lived — it is not sur- 
 prising that I should feel, and feel deeply too,
 
 46 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 the glaring indiscretion you have, I grieve to 
 say, already committed, since your entrance with- 
 in these walls." 
 
 Then, after another solemn pause, during 
 which Miss St Clair sat in speechless amaze- 
 ment, he resumed with more than senatorial dig- 
 nity. 
 
 " I wish to be correctly informed at what hour 
 you quitted your apartment this morning, Miss 
 St Clair .?'^ 
 
 " Indeed, my Lord, I cannot tell," answered 
 Gertrude, with perfect naivete. " I had forgot 
 to wind up my watch, and I did not hear any 
 clock strike ; but, from the appearance of the 
 morning, I am sure it was early." 
 
 " And what, may I ask, was the mode or man- 
 ner. Miss St Clair, by which you thought pro- 
 per to quit my house at so untimely and unusual 
 an hour?" demanded the Earl in a voice of re- 
 pressed emotion. 
 
 Gertrude blushed. — " I am afraid I was guilty 
 of a transgression, my Lord, for which I ask 
 your pardon; but, allured by the fineness of the 
 morning, and the beauty of the scenery, I was 
 desirous of getting out to enjoy them, and hav-
 
 CHAPTER V. 47 
 
 ing in vain tried to make my way through a door, 
 I was tempted to escape by a window." 
 
 Miss St Clair spoke with so much simplicity 
 and gentleness, and there was so much sweetness 
 and even melody in her voice and accent, that 
 any other than Lord Ross\dlle would have wish- 
 ed her offence had been greater, that her apology 
 might have been longer. Not so his Lordship, 
 who possessed neither taste nor ear, and was alive 
 to no charm but what he called propriety. At 
 the conclusion of his niece's acknowledgment, 
 the Earl struck his forehead, and took two or 
 three turns up and down the room, then sudden- 
 ly stopping — 
 
 " Are you at all aware, Miss St Clair, of the 
 glaring — the — I must say — gross impropriety of 
 such a step in itself — of the still more gross con- 
 struction that will be put upon it by the world ? 
 The simple fact has only to be told, and one in- 
 ference, and but one, will be drawn. You have 
 quitted the apartment assigned to you under my 
 roof at a nameless, untimely, consequently, unbe- 
 fitting hour ; and you rashly, wantonly, and im- 
 properly, precipitate yourself from a window — and 
 what window ? why, the window of my private
 
 48 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 sitting room I A young female is seen issuing 
 from the window of my study at a nameless hour 
 in the morning — the tale circulates — and where, 
 I ask, am I ?'' 
 
 " Where was you ?" asked Lady Betty. 
 
 Mrs St Clair put her handkerchief to her 
 face. 
 
 " I am very sorry, my Lord, that I should 
 have done any thing to displease you — if I have 
 done wrong ''"' 
 
 " If you have done wrong ! Good heavens ! 
 is it thus you view the matter, Miss St Clair ? 
 What / think wrong ! Who that has proper 
 feelings of delicacy and propriety — who that has 
 a due regard for character and reputation, but 
 must view the matter precisely as I do ? Such 
 a step — and at such an hour !" 
 
 And his Lordship resumed his troubled walk. 
 
 Unacquainted with her nucleus character, and 
 ignorant of the manners and customs of the coun- 
 try, Gertrude was led to believe she had commit- 
 ted a much more serious offence than she had 
 been aware of, and she was at length wrought up 
 to that degree of distress which the Earl deemed 
 necessary to mark her contrition. Softened at 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER V. 49 
 
 witnessing the effect of his power, which he im- 
 puted to the fine style of his language, he now 
 took his niece's hand, and addressed her in what 
 he intended for a more consolatory strain. 
 
 " I have considered it my duty — a painful 
 one, doubtless, but, nevertheless, my duty — to 
 point out to you the impropriety you have — I 
 hope and believe, — inadvertently committed. As 
 a member of my family, and one for whose actions 
 the world will naturally consider me responsible, 
 it is necessary that I should henceforth take up- 
 on myself the entire regulation of your future 
 manners and conduct in life. You, Madam," 
 to Mrs St Clair, " have delegated to me the au- 
 thority of a parent, and I should ill merit so im- 
 portant a trust, were I to shrink from the dis- 
 charge of the functions of the parental office.'' 
 
 Miss St Clair's blood ran cold at the thoughts 
 of being subjected to such thraldom. 
 
 " But before dismissing this subject — I trust 
 for ever — let me here state to you my sentiments 
 with regard to young ladies walking before break- 
 fast — a practice of which, I must confess, I have 
 always disapproved. I am aware it is a practice 
 that has the sanction of many highly respectable 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 authorities, who have written on the subject of 
 female ethics ; but, I own, I cannot approve of 
 young ladies of rank and family leaving their 
 apartments, at the same hour with chamber-maids 
 and dairy-maids, and walking out unattended at 
 an hour when only the lower orders of the peo- 
 ple are abroad. Walking before breakfast, then, 
 I must consider as a most rude masculine habit 
 — as the Right Honourable Edmund Burke ob- 
 serves, ' an air of robustness and strength is 
 highly prejudicial to beauty,' (that is, as I ap- 
 prehend, female beauty,) ' while an appearance 
 of fragility is no less essential to it ;' — and cer- 
 tainly nothing, in my opinion, can be more un- 
 becoming, more unfeminine, than to behold a 
 young lady seat herself at the breakfast-table with 
 the complexion of a dairy-maid, and the appetite 
 of a ploughman. At the same time, I am an 
 advocate for early rising, as there are, doubtless, 
 many ways in which young ladies may spend 
 their mornings, without rambling abroad; and 
 you will find, by looking in your dressing-room, 
 that I have made ample provision for your 
 instruction, and amusement, and delight. Let 
 morning walks, therefore, from henceforth have
 
 CHAPTER V. 52 
 
 an end.'* And he pressed his niece's hand with 
 that air of pompous forgiveness so revolting from 
 one human being to another. Luckily, his Lord- 
 ship was here summoned away ; but ere he left 
 the room, he signified his intention of returning 
 in an hour to show the ladies what was most 
 worthy of observation in the castle and demesnes. 
 Absurd as this scene may appear, few will 
 deny the undue importance which many people 
 attach to the trifles of life, and how often mole- 
 hills are magnified into mountains by those with 
 whom trifles are indeed " the sum of human 
 things.'' 
 
 LlBr:A,7Y 
 UN/VFR.9JTV nc
 
 5S run INM1,RITANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " By'r lakin, I can go no farther, Sir, 
 
 My old bones aches : here's a maze trod indeed 
 
 Through forth-rights and meanders ! by your patience, 
 
 I needs must rest me." 
 
 The Tempest. 
 
 " True as the dial to the sun. 
 
 Even though it be not shined upon/' 
 
 Lord Rossville returned at the hour ap- 
 pointed, to do the honours of his castle. But, as 
 most of my readers have doubtless experienced 
 the misery of being shown a house where there 
 was nothing to be seen, and can tell, " how hard it 
 is to climb"' from the second sunk story to the 
 uppermost garrets, I shall not be so unmerciful 
 as to drag them up stairs and down stairs to my 
 Lady's chamber, and into all the chambers except 
 his Lordship's own, which he was too decorous to 
 exhibit. Neither shall I insist upon their hear- 
 ing every thing explained and set forth even to the 
 Dutch tiles of the dairy, the hot and cold pipes
 
 CHAfTER VI. 53 
 
 of the washing-house, the new invented ovens, 
 the admirably constructed larder, the inimitable 
 baths, with all the wonder-working, steam-going, 
 apparatus of the kitchen. Here Mrs St Clair 
 acquitted herself to admiration, for to see judi- 
 ciously requires no small skill in the seer, and 
 there are few who see things precisely as they 
 ought to be seen. ]\Iany see too much — many 
 too little. Some see only to find fault — some on- 
 ly to admire ; some are, or pretend to be, already 
 acquainted with every thing they are shown — some 
 are profoundly ignorant, consequently, cannot pro- 
 perly appreciate the inventions or improvements 
 exhibited. Some are too inquisitive — some too in- 
 different ; but it is as impossible to describe the 
 vast variety of seers as of mosses, neither is it 
 easy to point out the innumerable rocks on which 
 a seer may strike. A treatise, illustrated by a 
 few memorable examples or awful warnings, might 
 possibly be of some use to the unskilfid behold- 
 er. But, as in most other arts and sciences, 
 much must depend upon natural genius. ]\lrs 
 St Clair was so happily endowed, that she was en- 
 abled to see every thing as it was intended to be 
 seen, and to bestow her admiration in the exact
 
 54) THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 proportion in which she perceived it was requir- 
 ed, through all the intermediate degrees, from 
 ecstatic rapture, down to emphatic approval. 
 With Miss St Clair it was far otherwise ; she had 
 no taste for poking into pantries, and chimneys, 
 and cellars, or of hearing any of the inelegant 
 minutiae of life detailed. It seemed like breaking 
 all the enchantments of existence to be thus made 
 to view the complicated machinery by which life, 
 artificial life, was sustained ; and she rejoiced 
 when the survey was ended, and it was proposed, 
 after luncheon, to take a drive through the 
 grounds. Gertrude flattered herself, that here 
 she would, at least, enjoy the repose of inactivity, 
 and be suffered to see as much as could be seen, 
 from a carriage window, of the beauties of na- 
 ture. But Lord Rossville's mind was never in 
 a quiescent state in any situation ; there was 
 always something to be done or to be seen — 
 the windows were to be either let down or 
 drawn up^the bHnds to be drawn up or pulled 
 down — there was something that ought to be seen, 
 but could not be seen — or there was something 
 seen that ought not to have been seen ; thus his 
 mind was not only its own plague, but the plague
 
 CHAPTER VI. 55 
 
 of all who had the misfortune to bear him com- 
 pany. 
 
 In vain were creation's charms spread before 
 his eyes. — There is a mental blindness, darker 
 than that which shrouds the visual orb, and Na- 
 ture's works were to Lord Rossville an univer- 
 sal blank, or rather they were a sort of account- 
 book, in which were registered all his own petty 
 doings. It was here he had drained — there he 
 had embanked— here he had planted— there he 
 had cut down — here he had built a bridge — there 
 he had made a road — here he had levelled — 
 there he had raised, &c. &c. &c. To all that 
 his own head had planned he was feelingly alive ; 
 but, for the " dread magnificence of Heaven," 
 he had neither eye, ear, nor soul, and must, there- 
 fore, be forgiven, if insensible to its influence. 
 Mrs St Clair was not much more highly gifted in 
 that respect, but she could speak, if she could not 
 feel, and she expatiated and admired, till Lord 
 Rossville thought her, without exception, the 
 cleverest woman he had ever met with. 
 
 " Since you are so great an enthusiast in the 
 beauties of nature, my dear Madam," said he, 
 addressing his sister-in-law, «« we shall extend our
 
 56 THE INHEBITANCE. 
 
 drive a little farther than I had purposed, that I 
 may have the pleasure of showing you, at a single 
 coup (Toeil, the whole extent of the Rossville 
 possessions in this county, while, at the same 
 time, you will embrace some other objects, in 
 which I am not wholly unconcerned. — Benjamin," 
 to the servant, " to Pinnacle Hill," and to Pin- 
 nacle HiU the horses' heads were turned. " Pin- 
 nacle Hill,'' continued the Earl, " is a very cele- 
 brated spot ; it is a purchase I made from Lord 
 Fairacre some years ago ; it is much resorted to 
 by strangers, as commanding, with few excep- 
 tions, one of the finest views in Scotland." 
 
 Mrs St Clair hated fine views, and she tried 
 to get off, by pretending scruples about encroach- 
 ing so much on his Lordship's time, goodness, 
 and so forth — but all in vain ; to Pinnacle Hill 
 they were driven, and, after being dragged up as 
 far as horses could go, they were (as, indeed, the 
 name implied) obliged to alight and ascend on 
 foot. With considerable toil they reached the 
 top, and scarcely were they there, when the wind, 
 having changed to the east, its never-faihng ac- 
 companiment, a raw mist, began to gather all 
 round. But Lord Rossville was insensible even
 
 CHAPTER VT. 57 
 
 to an east wind — his bodily sensations being quite 
 as obtuse as his mental ones ; and having got to 
 the top of the Pinnacle, he faced him round, and, 
 in the very teeth of the enemy, began to point 
 out what was and what was not to be seen. 
 
 " Here you have a very commanding view, or 
 would have had, if the atmosphere had been some- 
 what clearer ; as it is, I can enable you distinctly 
 to trace out the boundary line of the Rossville es- 
 tate. Observe the course of the river in the di- 
 rection of my cane — you see it plainly here — 
 there it disappears amongst the Mdlbank woods 
 — now it takes a turn, and you have it again to 
 your left — you follow me .^" 
 
 " Perfectly, my Lord,'' replied Mrs St Clair, 
 although she saw nothing but a wreath of mist. 
 
 " Undoubtedly, that must be the river we 
 see,'' said his Lordship doubtingly ; " but, at 
 the same time, we never can rely, with perfect 
 security, upon the watery element ; it has many 
 resemblances, which are not easily detected at a 
 distance — a bleachfield, for instance, has not un- 
 frequently been mistaken for a piece of water ; 
 and we read of a very singular deception produ-
 
 58 
 
 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 ced upon sand in the eastern countries, and 
 termed the mirage.'''' 
 
 " Water is, indeed, a deceitful element," said 
 Mrs St Clair, hoping, by this affirmative, to 
 get to the lee-side of the discussion. 
 
 " On the other hand, it is a most useful and 
 invaluable element ; without water, where would 
 be our navigation — ou?^ commerce — our know- 
 ledge — our arts ?— ^in one word, water may be 
 termed the bulwark of Britain.'' 
 
 " It may indeed," said Mrs St Clair, her teeth 
 chattering as she spoke; to water we owe our 
 existence as a nation, our liberties, civil and reli- 
 gious," and she retreated a few steps, on the faith 
 of having settled the matter. 
 
 " Pardon me there, my dear Madam," said 
 the Earl, retaining his original footing ; " that 
 is, perhaps, going a little too far ; strictly speak- 
 ing, we cannot, with propriety, be said to owe 
 our existence to water, since, had we not been an 
 island, a highly favoured island, we should certain- 
 ly have formed part of the vast continent of 
 Europe — and with regard to our liberties, the 
 Magna Charta, that boast of Britain, was un-
 
 CHAPTER VI. 59 
 
 questionably procured, and, I trust, will ever be 
 maintained, on terra firma." 
 
 Mrs St Clair could almost have given up the 
 game at this point — to stand on the very pinna- 
 cle of a pinnacle, in the face of an east wind, and 
 be talked to about bulwarks and Magna Chartas ! 
 it was too much. 
 
 " How very cold you look, mama," said Miss 
 St Clair, compassionating her mother's feelings. 
 
 " Cold !" repeated Lord Rossville, in a tone 
 of surprise and displeasure; "impossible — cold 
 in the month of May ! the day would be too hot, 
 were it not for this cooling breeze."' 
 
 This was worse and worse — Mrs St Clair 
 groaned internally, as she thought, " How will it 
 be possible to drag out existence with a man who 
 calls a piercing east wind a cooling breeze !" 
 
 Lord Rossville raised his cane, and resumed 
 his observations at great length upon the ravages 
 committed by the river on his friend and neigh- 
 bour BoghalFs property. Mrs St Clair wished 
 the Boghall acres in the bottom of the Red Sea, 
 though even from thence Lord Rossville might, 
 perhaps, have fished them up, as a thorough- 
 bred tormentor, like a first rate magician, can call
 
 60 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 spirits, even from the vasty deep, to torment his 
 victims. 
 
 " Here," continued the Earl, taking his sister- 
 in-law by the hand, and leading her to the ut- 
 most verge of all she hated, a bleak exposed pro- 
 montory ; " here we command a no less charming 
 prospect in a different style : — observe that range 
 ofhiUs." 
 
 " Superb !'' exclaimed Mrs St Clair, with an 
 aguish shudder. 
 
 " Why, yes — the hills themselves are very 
 well — but do you observe nothing, my dear IVIa- 
 dam, that relieves the eye from what a friend of 
 mine justly calls a boundless continuity of shade?" 
 
 Mrs St Clair almost cracked her eye-balls 
 straining in the direction pointed out, but, like 
 sister Anne, could see nothing to the purpose. 
 
 " I suspect you are looking rather too high ; 
 nearer the base, and allow your eye to run along 
 by the point of my cane — there, you must have 
 got it now." 
 
 There are, perhaps, few every-day situations 
 more tormenting to a delicate mind, than that 
 of being called upon to see what you cannot 
 see — you must either disappoint the views of
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 61 
 
 the view-pointer, or you must sacrifice your 
 conscience, (as it is much to be feared too many 
 do,) by pretending that you have at last hit the 
 mark, whether it be a puff of smoke, indicative of 
 a town, a white cloud of the ocean, or a black 
 speck of an island. 
 
 " Ah ! I think I discover something now," cried 
 Mrs St Clair, quite at a loss to guess whether the 
 white mote in question was a church steeple, or 
 a ship's mast, or any other wonderful object of 
 the same nature, which generous long-sighted 
 people will always make a point of sharing with 
 their less gifted friends. 
 
 " And you think the effect good.^'' 
 
 " Admirable — inimitable !" 
 
 " Why, the situation was my own choice ; 
 there was a committee appointed to make choice 
 of the most favourable site, and they fortunately 
 fell in with my views on the subject, and, indeed, 
 paid me the compliment of consulting my feelings 
 on the occasion : — a public monument, I con- 
 ceive, ought, undoubtedly, to be placed in a con- 
 spicuous and elevated situation ; but more espe- 
 cially, when that situation happens to be in the 
 very grounds of not only the original proposer
 
 62 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 and principal heritor in the county, but likewise 
 the personal friend of the illustrious dead to 
 whom this tribute is decreed — for, I am proud 
 to say, our renowned patriot, the great Lord Pen- 
 sionwell, was (with the excellent Lord Dunder- 
 head) the associate of my youthful years — the 
 friend of my maturer age." 
 
 " Happy the country," said Mrs St Clair, now 
 driven almost to frenzy, " whose nobles are thus 
 gifted with the power of reflecting kindred excel- 
 lence, and perpetuating national virtue, on the 
 broad basis of private friendship." 
 
 Mrs St Clair knew she was talking nonsense, 
 but she also knew who she was talking to, and 
 was sure it would pass. Lord Rossville, to be 
 sure, was a little puzzled, but he saw it was 
 meant as a compliment, and contained a fine 
 sounding sentiment, and it was therefore well re- 
 ceived. Fortunately, the rain now began to fall, 
 and every object being completely shrouded in 
 mist, his Lordship was obliged to give in ; but 
 he comforted himself, and thought he comforted 
 his companions, by promising to return, when the 
 weather was more propitious, to repeat and com- 
 plete their enjoyment.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 63 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Most musical, most melancholy !' 
 
 MiLToy. 
 
 DiNNEE passed heavily, for, although its ar- 
 rangements were faultless, there was a want of 
 that ease which is the essence of good cheer. The 
 evening entertainment was still worse, for Lord 
 Rossville piqued himself upon his musical talents, 
 and INIiss St Clair, whose taste and execution were 
 both of a superior order, was doomed to the tor- 
 tures of his Lordship's accompaniment. His 
 false chords — his overstrained cadences — his pal- 
 sied shakes — his tones half and whole, grated up- 
 on her ear, and she felt that music and melody 
 were sometimes very different things. He affected 
 to despise all music, except that of the great com- 
 posers, and chose for the subject of his execution, 
 Beethoven's " Synfonia Pastorale.'' — '' Here," 
 said he, as he placed it before his niece and him- 
 self, " observe, the great point is to have your
 
 64 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 mind duly impressed with the ideas these grand 
 and characteristic movements are designed to ex- 
 press. Here, we have, in the first place, ' The 
 Prospect ;'' — we must, of course, infer, that it is a 
 fine or pleasing prospect, such, for example, as 
 we viewed to-day, that the great composer intend- 
 ed to represent — let your movements therefore be 
 graceful and aerial — light and shade, hill and 
 dale, wood and water ; — then follows ' The Rivu- 
 let,' — that, I need scarcely inform you, must be ex- 
 pressed by a gentle, murmuring, liquid, trickling 
 measure. Next we have the ' Village Dance,"* 
 brisk, gay, and exhilarating — rustic, but not vul- 
 gar. As a powerful contrast to these simple 
 scenes now bursts upon us ' The Storm," awful, su- 
 bhme, overpowering as the conflict of the ele- 
 ments, — howling winds, descending torrents, hail, 
 thunder, lightning, all must be conveyed here, or 
 the mighty master's aim is rendered abortive. To 
 soothe the mind after this awful explosion of ge- 
 nius, we wind up the whole with the ' Shepherd's 
 Song,' breathing the soft accents of peace and 
 pastoral innocence — and now da capo.'''' 
 
 Miss St Clair might well shudder at the pro- 
 spect before her, and her tortures were exquisite.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 65 
 
 when she found her ear, taste, feeling, science, all 
 placed under the despotic sway of his Lordship's 
 bow and foot ; but, at length, her sufferings were 
 ended by the announcement of supper. " Ha !^' 
 exclaimed he, starting up, " it seems we take no 
 note of time here.'' This was a fas'ourite^'ew de 
 mot of the EarFs, and, indeed, it was suspected 
 that he sometimes allowed himself to be surprised 
 for the pleasure of repeating it. 
 
 Supper was nearly over, when the trampling of 
 horses, barking of dogs, ringing of bells, and all 
 the usual clamour which attends the arrival of a 
 person of distinction, caused a sensation in the 
 company. Lady Betty asked what that was, 
 while she took her favourite on her lap, and cover- 
 ed it with her pocket-handkerchief, from be- 
 neath whichj however, issued, ever and anon, a 
 low asthmatic growl. 
 
 " It is Colonel Delmour, my Lady,'' answer- 
 ed the pompous maitre cV hotel, who had dispatch- 
 ed a messenger to inquire. 
 
 " It is an extraordinary and somewhat impro- 
 per time of night, I think ." 
 
 But his Lordship's remarks were stopped by 
 the entrance of the party in question. Merely 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 66 THE IXHERITANCE. 
 
 touching his uncle's hand as he passed him, and 
 scarcely noticing Lady Betty, Colonel Delmour 
 advanced to Mrs and Miss St Clair, and paid his 
 compliments to them with all the graceful high- 
 bred ease of a man of fashion ; then calling for a 
 chair, he seated himself by his cousin, seem- 
 ingly regardless of one having been placed by 
 Lord Rossville's orders on the other side of the 
 table. Colonel Delmxour was strikingly hand- 
 some, both in face and form, and he possessed 
 that high hereditary air of fashion and freedom 
 which bore the impress of nobility and distinction. 
 There might, perhaps, be something of hauteur 
 in his lofty bearing ; but it was so qualified by 
 the sportive gaiety of his manners, that it seem- 
 ed nothing more than that elegant and graceful 
 sense of his own superiority, to which, even with- 
 out arrogance, he could not be insensible. He 
 talked much, and well, and in that general way, 
 which allowed every one to take a part in the con- 
 versation without suffering any one, not even the 
 Earl, to monopolize it. Altogether, his presence 
 was like sunshine upon frost-work, and an air of 
 ease and gaiety succeeded to the dulness and 
 constraint which had hitherto prevailed. Lady
 
 CHAPTER VII. 67 
 
 Betty had three times asked, " What brought 
 you here at this time of night ?"" before Colonel 
 Delmour answered ; at last he said — 
 
 " Two very powerful motives, though scarce- 
 ly fit to be named together — the first was my ea- 
 gerness to do homage here," bowing gracefiilly 
 to Miss St Clair ; " the other was to avoid the 
 honour of driving Miss Pratt." 
 
 " I thought ]\Ir Lyndsay was to have return- 
 ed with you," said the Earl. 
 
 " I offered him a seat in my curricle, which he 
 wanted to transfer to Miss Pratt, but I could not 
 possibly agree to that arrangement, so he remains 
 like a preux chevalier to escort her in a hackney- 
 chaise, and also, I believe, to attend a Bible meet- 
 ing, or a charity sermon, or something of that 
 sort. It is more, I suspect, as a paymaster than 
 a protector, that his services are required, as she 
 discovered it would cost her, I can't tell how ma- 
 ny shillings and sixpences ; and though I would 
 willingly have paid her expences, yet, really, to 
 endure her company for a nine mile tete-a-tete 
 was more than my philosophy dreamt of" 
 
 Much depends on the manner in which things 
 are said as to the impression they convey to the
 
 68 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 unreflecting mind. Colonel Delmour's voice and 
 accent were uncommonly pleasing, and he had an 
 air of gay good humour, that gave to his words 
 rather the semblance of airy levity, than of sel- 
 fishness or ill nature. Even when he carelessly 
 sketched on the table-cloth a caricature of Mr 
 Lyndsay with a large Bible under his arm, hand- 
 ing Miss Pratt, with a huge bandbox in hers, in- 
 to a hackney-chaise, Gertrude could not resist a 
 smile at their expence. 
 
 " Miss Pratt coming here to-morrow V ex- 
 claimed the Earl in a tone expressive of any thing 
 but pleasure ; "that is somewhat an unexpect- 
 ed'" and his Lordship made an effort as if to 
 
 bolt some word too hard for vitterance. Then ad- 
 dressing Mrs St Clair, though with a very dis- 
 turbed look, " As, in all probabihty, Madam, 
 that lady's visit is designed out of compliment to 
 you and your daughter, it is necessary, previous 
 to her arrival, that you should be aware of the 
 degree of relationship subsisting between Miss 
 Pratt and the members of this family.'' 
 
 Lord Rossville's air, looks, manner, hems, all 
 portended a story ; it was but too evident that 
 breath was collecting and reminiscences arrang-
 
 CHAPTER VII. 69 
 
 ing for the purpose, and the pause that ensued 
 was prophetic, not, alas ! of its end, but of its be- 
 ginning. But Colonel Delmour seemed quite 
 aware of the danger that was impending, and just 
 as his uncle had opened his mouth with " Miss 
 Pratt''s great-grandfather" he interposed. 
 
 " I beg pardon, but I cannot think of devolv- 
 ing the task of being Miss Pratt's chronicler up- 
 on you ; as I was guilty of introducing her to the 
 company, mine be the punishment of becoming 
 her biographer."" Then, with a rapidity which left 
 the Earl with his mouth open, and Miss Pratt's 
 great-grandfather still vibrating on his tongue, 
 he went on — 
 
 " Miss Pratt, then, by means of great-grand- 
 fathers and great-grandmothers, (who, par pa- 
 renthese, may commonly be classed under the 
 head of great bores,) is, somehow or other, cousin 
 to all families of distinction, in general, through- 
 out Scotland, but to this one, from its local ad- 
 vantages, in particular. I cannot pretend to show 
 forth the various modifications of which cousin- 
 ship is susceptible, first, second, and third degrees, 
 as far as numbers and degrees can go. And, in- 
 deed, I have already committed a great error in
 
 70 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 my outset, by having introduced Miss Pratt by 
 herself Miss Pratt, when I ought to have present- 
 ed her as Miss Pratt and Anthony Whyte. In 
 fact, as Whittington without his cat would be no- 
 body in the nursery, so neither would Miss Pratt be 
 recognized in the world without Anthony Whyte. 
 Not that there exists the same reciprocal attach- 
 ment, or unity of fortune, between the aunt and 
 the nephew which distinguished the master and 
 his cat ; for Anthony Whyte is rich, and Miss 
 Pratt is poor ; — Anthony Whyte lives in a castle, 
 Miss Pratt in a cottage ; — Anthony Whyte has 
 horses and hounds. Miss Pratt has clogs and pat- 
 tens. There is something so uninteresting, if not 
 unpromising, in the name, that"' — addressing him- 
 self to Miss St Clair — " you, at present, will 
 scarcely care whether it belongs to a man or a cat, 
 and will be ready to exclaim, ' What's in a name ?' 
 but do not expect long to enjoy this happy 
 state of indifference — by dint of hearing it repeat- 
 ed day after day, hour after hour, minute after 
 minute, upon every possible and impossible occa- 
 sion, it will at length take such hold of your 
 imagination, that you will see the mystic letters 
 which compose the name of Anthony Whyte
 
 CHAPTER VII. 71 
 
 wherever you turn your eyes — you will be ready 
 to ' hollow out his name to the reverberate rocks, 
 and teach the babbling gossips of the air to cry 
 out' — Anthony Whyte !'' 
 
 '' What's all that nonsense ?" asked Lady 
 Betty. 
 
 " I have been rather prosy upon Miss Pratt 
 and her adjunct — that's all,'" answered Colonel 
 Delmour slightly ; '' and must have something to 
 put away the sound of Anthony Whyte" — and he 
 hummed a few notes — " Do, Miss St Clair, join 
 me in expelling those hideous names I have in- 
 voked for your gratification — you sing, I am 
 sure.'^ 
 
 But Gertrude was afraid to comply, for no one 
 seconded the request. Lord Ross^dlle, indeed, 
 looked evidently much displeased ; but it was no 
 less manifest, that his nephew neither thought nor 
 cared for any body's feelings but such as he was 
 solicitous to please ; and, before the party broke 
 up, he had contrived to make a very favourable 
 impression on the only person present whose fa- 
 vour he was anxious to obtain.
 
 72 THE IXHEKITANCE, 
 
 CHAPTER Vlir. 
 
 '* Her tongue runs round like a wheel, one spoke after ano- 
 ther ; there is no end of it. You would wonder at her matter to 
 hear her talk, and would admire her talk when you hear her 
 matter. All the wonder is, whilst she speaks only thrums, how 
 she makes so many different ends hang together." 
 
 Richard Fleckno, 1658. 
 
 Many visitors arrived the two following days 
 from various quarters, though all from similar mo- 
 tives, viz. to see the young heiress and her ple- 
 beian mother. But amongst all the varieties of 
 life, how few can even serve " to point a moral or 
 adorn a tale." 
 
 The most distinguished of those individuals 
 were Lady Millbank and her daughters, who 
 drove up in all the bustle and parade of a 
 barouche and four, splendidly emblazoned, with 
 drivers and riders in the full pomp of blazing 
 liveries, and the usual eclat of an equipage 
 which at once denotes wealth and grandeur.
 
 CHAPTEll VIII. 7S 
 
 The ladies were in the same style with their out- 
 ward bearings, tall, showy, dashing personages, 
 with scornful looks and supercilious manners. 
 They surveyed Miss St Clair from head to foot 
 with a bold stare ; and, after making some trifling 
 remarks to her, turned their whole artillery against 
 Colonel Delmour, who received their addresses 
 with a sort of careless familiarity, very different 
 from the refined attentions he displayed towards 
 his cousin. 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed one of the ladies, 
 who had stationed herself at a window, " Do look 
 at this. Colonel Delmour !" 
 
 And at the piercing exclamation, the whole 
 party hastened to ascertain the cause. The phe- 
 nomenon appeared to be a hackney-chaise of the 
 meanest description, which was displacing the 
 splendid barouche, to the manifest mirth of the 
 insolent menials who stood lounging at the door. 
 " Who can that be, I wonder .^'' asked Lady 
 Betty- 
 Mrs St Clair turned pale with terror lest it 
 should be any of her bourgeois relations forcing 
 their way. 
 
 " I conclude it must be our cousin Miss Pratt,"
 
 74 THE INHEItlTAXCE. 
 
 said the Earl, in some agitation, to Lady Mill- 
 bank; and, while he spoke, a female head and 
 hand were to be seen shaking and waving to the 
 driver with eager gesticulation. 
 
 " And Mr Lyndsay, I vow !" exclaimed Miss 
 Jemima Millbank, throwing herself into a theatri- 
 cal attitude of astonishment. 
 
 The hack-chaise, with its stiff rusty horses, had 
 now got close to the door, and the broken jingling 
 steps being lowered, out stepped a young man, 
 who was immediately saluted with shouts of laugh- 
 ter from the party at the window. He looked up 
 and smiled, but seemed nowise disconcerted, as 
 he stood patiently waiting for his companion to 
 emerge. 
 
 " I hope they are to perform quarantme,'' said 
 Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " I vote for their being sent to Coventry," said 
 Miss Augusta. 
 
 " I prepare to stand upon the defensive," said 
 Miss IMaria, as she seized a smeUing-bottle from 
 off the table. 
 
 At length, Miss Pratt appeared, shaking the 
 straw from her feet, and having alighted, it was 
 expected that her next movement would be to en-
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 75 - 
 
 ter the house ; but they knew little of Miss Pratt, 
 who thought all was done when she had reached 
 her destination. Much yet remained to be done, 
 which she would not trust either to her companion 
 or the servants. She had, in the first place, to 
 speak in a very sharp manner to the driver, on 
 the condition of his chaise and horses, and to 
 throw out hints of having him severely punished, 
 inasmuch as one of his windows would not let 
 down, and she had almost sprained her wrist in 
 attempting it — and another would not pull up, 
 though the wind was going through her head hke 
 a spear ; besides having taken two hours and a 
 quarter to bring them nine miles, and her watch 
 was held up in a triumphant manner in proof of 
 her assertion. She next made it a point to see 
 with her own eyes every article pertaining to her 
 (and they were not a few) taken out of the chaise, 
 and to give with her own voice innumerable direc- 
 tions as to the carrying, stowing, and placing of 
 her bags, boxes, and bundles. All these matters 
 being settled. Miss Pratt then accepted the arm 
 of her companion, and was now fairly on her way 
 to the drawing-room. But people who make use 
 of their eyes have often much to see even be-
 
 76 
 
 TIIK IXHKIIITAXCE. 
 
 tween two doors, and in her progress from the 
 hall door to the drawing-room door, Miss Pratt 
 met with much to attract her attention. True, 
 all the objects were perfectly familiar to her, but 
 a real looker, like a great genius, is never at a 
 loss for a subject — things are either better or 
 worse since they saw them last — or if the things 
 themselves should happen to be the same, they 
 have seen other things either better or worse, and 
 can, therefore, either improve or disprove them. 
 Miss Pratt's head then, turned from side to side 
 a thousand times as she went along, and a thou- 
 sand observations and criticisms about stair car- 
 pets, patent lamps, hall chairs, slab tables, &c. 
 &c. &c. passed through her crowded brain. At 
 length. Miss Pratt and Mr Lyndsay were an- 
 nounced, and thereupon entered Miss Pratt in a 
 quick paddling manner, as if in all haste to greet 
 her friends. 
 
 " How do you do, my Lord ? no bilious attacks 
 I hope of late ? — Lady Betty, as stout as ever I 
 see, and my old friend Flora as fat as a collared 
 eel. — Lady IVIillbank, Fm perfectly ashamed to 
 see you in any house but your own ; but every 
 thing must give way to the first visit, you know,
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 77 
 
 especially amongst kinsfolk," taking Mrs St Clair 
 by the hand, without waiting for the ceremony of 
 an introduction. 
 
 While this and much more in the same strain 
 was passing with IMiss Pratt, at one end of the 
 room, Mr Lyndsay had joined the younger part 
 of the company at the other, and been introdu- 
 ced by Colonel Dehnour to Miss St Clair. There 
 was nothing so striking in his appearance as to 
 arrest the careless eye, or call forth instant ad- 
 miration ; yet his figure, though not much above 
 the middle size, was elegant, his head and fea- 
 tures were finely formed, and altogether he ha(§ 
 that sort of classical tournure^ which, although 
 not conspicuous, is uncommon, and that air of 
 calm repose which indicates a mind of an elevat- 
 ed cast. Still, seen beside Colonel Delmour, Mr 
 Lyndsay might liave been overlooked. He had 
 nothing of that brilliancy of address which dis- 
 tinguished his cousin ; but he had what is still 
 more rare, that perfect simplicity of manner 
 which borrows nothing from imitation ; and as 
 some one has well remarked, few pecuharities are 
 more striking than a total absence of all affecta- 
 tion. Scarcely allowing time for the introduc-
 
 78 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 tion, Miss Millbank began in a tone intended to 
 be very sympathetic. 
 
 " How dreadfully you must have been bored 
 to-day with la pauvre Pratt ! Good heavens ! 
 how could you inflict such a penance upon your- 
 self ? Did you not find her most shockingly an- 
 noying and dreadfully tiresome .^" 
 
 " Annoying and tiresome to a certain degree, 
 as every body must be who asks idle questions," 
 answered Mr Lyndsay, with a smile, which, 
 though very sweet, was not without a meaning. 
 
 The rebuff, if it was intended for such, was, 
 however, lost upon his fair assailant. 
 
 " Then, good heavens ! how could you bore 
 yourself with her .^'' 
 
 " She was my mother's friend and relation," 
 replied he calmly. 
 
 " Of all descriptions of entail, that of friends 
 would be the most severe," said Colonel Del- 
 mour. 
 
 " O heavens ! what a shocking idea !" exclaim- 
 ed the three Miss jMillbanks in a breath. 
 
 " What's the shocking idea, my dears .^" de- 
 manded Miss Pratt, as she pattered into the 
 midst of the groupe. " I'm sure there's no
 
 CHAPTER viir. 79 
 
 shocking realities here, for I never saw a pret- 
 tier circle/' darting her eyes all round, while she 
 familiarly patted Miss St Clair, and drawing 
 her arm within hers, as she stood by the window, 
 Seemed resolved to appropriate her entirely to 
 herself. Gertrude's attention was no less excited 
 by Miss Pratt, who had to her all the charms of 
 novelty, for though there are many ?>Iiss Pratts 
 in the world, it had never been her fortune to 
 meet with one till now. 
 
 Miss Pratt then appeared to her to be a per- 
 son from whom nothing could be hid. Her eyes 
 were not by any means fine eyes — they were not 
 reflecting eyes — they were not soft eyes — they 
 were not sparkling eyes — they were not melting 
 eyes — they were not penetrating eyes ; — neither 
 were they restless eyes, nor rolling eyes, nor 
 squinting eyes, nor prominent eyes — but they 
 were active, brisk, busy, vigilant, immoveable 
 eyes, that looked as if they could not be surpris- 
 ed by any thing — not even by sleep. They 
 never looked angry, or joyous, or perturbed, or 
 melancholy, or heavy ; but morning, noon, and 
 night, they shone the same, and conveved the
 
 s 
 
 80 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 same impression to the beholder, viz. that they 
 were eyes that had a look — not like the look of 
 Sterne's monk, beyond this world — but a look in- 
 to all things on the face of this world. Her other 
 features had nothing remarkable in them, but the 
 ears might evidently be classed under the same 
 head with the eyes — they were something resem- 
 bling rabbits — long, prominent, restless, vibrating 
 ears, for ever listening, and never shut by the 
 powers of thought. Her voice had the tone and 
 inflexions of one accustomed to make frequent 
 sharp interrogatories. She had rather a neat com- 
 pact figure, and the tout ensemble of her person 
 and dress was that of smartness. Such, though 
 not quite so strongly defined, was the sort of im- 
 pression Miss Pratt generally made upon the be- 
 holder. Having darted two or three of her sharp- 
 est glances at Miss St Clair — 
 
 " Do you know I'm really puzzled, my dear, 
 to make out who it is you are so like — for you're 
 neither a Rossville nor a Black — and, by the bye, 
 have you seen your uncle, Mr Alexander Black, 
 yet ? What a fine family he has got. I heard 
 you was quite smitten with IMiss Lilly Black at
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 81 
 
 the Circuit ball t'other night. Colonel Delmour — 
 But you're not so ill to please as Anthony Whyte 
 — That was really a good thing Lord Punme- 
 down said to him that night. Looking at the 
 two Miss Blacks, says he to Anthony, with a 
 shake of his head — ' Ah, Anthony,' says he, 
 ' I'm afraid two Blacks will never make a AVhite !' 
 ha ! ha! ha! — Lord Rossville, did you hear that ? 
 At the Circuit ball Lord Punmedown said to 
 Anthony Whyte, pointing to the two Miss 
 Blacks — ' I fear,' says he, ' two Blacks will never 
 make a White.' — ' No, my Lord,' says Anthony, 
 ' for you know there's no turning a Blackamoor 
 white !' ha ! ha ! ha ! 'A very fair answer,' says 
 ray Lord. Lady Millbank, did you hear of Lord 
 Punmedown's attack upon Mr Whyte at the 
 ball — the two Miss Blacks " 
 
 '* I black-ball a repetition of that bon mot," 
 said Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " You will really be taken for a mag^^ie if you 
 are so black and white," said Miss Millbank. 
 
 " 'Pon my word, that's not at all amiss — I 
 must let Anthony Whyte hear that. — But bless 
 me, Lady Millbank, you're not going away al- 
 ready ? — won't you stay and take some luncheon ? 
 
 VOL. 1. r
 
 JJZ THE INHERITAXCE. 
 
 — I can answer for the soups here — I really think, 
 my Lord, you rival the Whyte Hall soups C 
 but disregarding Miss Pratt's pressing invitation, 
 Lady Millbank and her train took leave, and 
 scarcely were they gone when luncheon was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 " Come, my dear,"" resumed the tormentor, 
 holding Gertrude''s arm within hers, " let you 
 and I keep together — I want to get better ac- 
 quainted with you — but I wish I could find a 
 likeness for you'" — looking round upon the fami- 
 ly portraits as they entered the eating-room. 
 
 " They must look higher who would find a 
 similitude for Miss St Clair," said Colonel Del- 
 mour. 
 
 Miss Pratt glanced at the painted ceiling 
 representing a band of very fat, full-blown rosy 
 Hours. " Ah ha ! do you hear that, my Lord ? 
 Colonel Delmour says there's nothing on earth 
 to compare to Miss St Clair, and that we must 
 look for her likeness in the regions above. Well, 
 goddess or not, let me recommend a bit of* this 
 nice cold lamb to you — very sweet and tender it 
 is — and I assure you I'm one of those who think 
 a leg of lamb looks as well on a table as in a
 
 CHAPTER VIIT. 83 
 
 meadow :" — then dropping her knife and fork 
 with a start of joy — " Bless me, what was I 
 thinking of? — that was really very well said of 
 you, Colonel — but I've got it now — a most won- 
 derful resemblance ! See who'll be the next to 
 find it out ?" 
 
 All present looked at each other, and then at 
 the pictures. 
 
 Lord Rossville, who had been vainly watching 
 for an opening, now took advantage of it, and 
 with one of his long suppressed sonorous hems, 
 bespoke him as follows : — 
 
 " Although I have not given much of my 
 time or attention to the study of physiognomy, 
 as I do not conceive it is one likely to be pro- 
 ductive of beneficial results to society ; yet I do 
 not hesitate to admit the reality of those analo- 
 gies of feature which may be, and undoubtedly 
 are, distinctly traced through successive genera- 
 tions — the family mouth, for example," pointing 
 to a long-chinned pinky-eyed female, with a 
 pursed up mouth hanging aloft, " as pourtrayed 
 in that most exemplary woman, the Lady Janet St 
 Clair, has its prototype in that of my niece," 
 turning to Gertrude ; " while, in the more manly
 
 84 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 formed nose of Robert first Earl of Rossville, an 
 accurate physiognomist might discern the root, as 
 it were " 
 
 " My dear Lord Rossville !" exclaimed Miss 
 Pratt, throwing herself back in her chair, " I 
 hope you're not going to say Miss St Clair has 
 the nose of Red Robby, as he was called — root, 
 indeed ! — a pretty compliment ! If it was a root, 
 it must have been a beet root — as Anthony 
 Whyte says, it's a nose like the handle of a pump- 
 well — and as for Lady Janet's mouth — he says 
 it's neither more nor less than a slit in a poor's- 
 box." 
 
 " Mr Anthony Whyte takes most improper li- 
 berties with the family of St Clair, if he pre- 
 sumes to make use of such unwarrantable, such 
 unjustifiable — I may add, such ungentlemanly — 
 expressions towards any of its members," said 
 Lord Ross\ille, speaking faster in the heat of 
 his indignation ; " and it is mortifying to reflect, 
 that any one allied to this family should ever 
 have so far forgot what was due to it as to form 
 such coarse, and vulgar, and derogatory compa- 
 risons." 
 
 ^* One of them is rather a flattering compari-
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 85 
 
 son," said Mr Lyndsay ; " I'm afraid there are 
 few mouths can be represented as emblems of 
 charity.'"* 
 
 "Very well said, Mr Edward," said Miss 
 Pratt, nowise disconcerted at the doiciiset she 
 had received ; shall I send you this nice rib in 
 return ? — Lord Rossville, let me recommend the 
 rhubarb tart to you — Miss Diana, my dear — 
 I beg your pardon, Miss St Clair, but I'll really 
 never be able to call you any thing but Diana — 
 for such a likeness ! — What have you all been 
 thinking of, not to have found out that Miss St 
 Clair is the very picture of the Diana in the Yel- 
 low Turret ?" 
 
 Lord Ross^^lle, in a tone of surprise and dis- 
 pleasure, repeated, — 
 
 " The Diana in the Yellow Turret ! impossi- 
 ble !" 
 
 " Impossible or not, I can assure you it's the 
 fact. — Mrs St Clair, have you seen the Diana ? — 
 come with me, and I'll show it you — come, my 
 dear, and see yourself as a goddess — come away 
 — seeing's believing, my Lord." And she jump- 
 ed up, almost choking in her eagerness to display 
 the discovery she had made.
 
 86 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " Miss Pratt !" cried the Earl, in a tone 
 enough to have settled quicksilver itself, " Miss 
 Pratt, this behaviour of yours is — is — what I 
 cannot possibly permit — the Yellow Turret is my 
 private dressing-room, and it is surely a most im- 
 proper and unwarrantable liberty " 
 
 " I beg you ten thousand pardons, my dear 
 Lord Rossville ! — I really had quite forgot the 
 change you have made in your dressing-room ; 
 but, at any rate, I would have figured every 
 creek and corner of yours fit to be seen at all 
 times. — There's Mr Whyte — his dressing-room 
 is a perfect show, so neat and nick-nacky, his 
 silver shoe-horn would be an ornament to any 
 drawing-room."" 
 
 " Miss Pratt, this is really 1 — — ,'' and 
 
 his Lordship hemmed in a manner which showed 
 the greatest discomposure. 
 
 '' As we cannot be gratified with a sight of Mr 
 Whyte's shoe-horn,'' said Colonel Delmour, " it 
 would certainly be some solace to be allowed to be* 
 hold your Lordship's goddess; — I had forgot that 
 picture, it is so long since I have seen it — but I 
 should certainly wish to prostrate myself at her 
 shrine now." And he looked to Miss St Clair 
 11
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 87 
 
 as he spoke, in a manner to give more meaning 
 to his words than met the ear. 
 
 The Earl was much embarrassed. He was 
 provoked at the irreverent and indecorous man- 
 ner in which Miss Pratt had been going to rush 
 into his dressing-room ; and he was piqued at the 
 insinuation she had thrown out of its not being 
 fit to be seen. He therefore wavered betwixt his 
 desire of punishing her presumption by exclusion 
 — or vindicating his own character by instant and 
 unpremeditated admission. After maturely weigh- 
 ing the matter, he decided upon the latter mode of 
 proceeding, and said, — 
 
 " Although I have certainly no idea of per- 
 mitting my private apartments to be thrown open 
 whenever idle or impertinent, or, it may be, ill- 
 disposed curiosity might prompt the wish, yet I 
 do not object to gratify either my own family 
 and friends, or even the public in general, with 
 a view of them, when the request is properly con- 
 veyed, and at a proper and reasonable hour ; for, 
 if there is a time for everything, it should like- 
 wise be remembered, there is a manner for every- 
 thing ; and although I do not consider a gentle- 
 man's dressing-room as the most elegant and de-
 
 88 THE INHEIUTAXCE. 
 
 licate exhibition for ladies, yet, upon this occa- 
 sion, if they are so inclined,"' — bowing all round 
 ' — " I shall be happy to conduct them to my pri- 
 vate apartments/' 
 
 ** The sooner the better," cried Miss Pratt, 
 while the very ribbons on her bonnet seemed to 
 vibrate with impatience ; " Come, my dear, and 
 see yourself as a goddess ;" and again seizing Miss 
 St Clair, away she pattered full speed. 
 
 " There's a broom where a broom shouldn't 
 be," darting her eyes into the dark corner of a 
 passage as she whisked through it ; then peeping 
 into a closet, " and for all the work he makes, I 
 don't think his maids are a bit better than other 
 people's."
 
 CHAPTEK IX. 89 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " What doth he get who ere prefers 
 The scutcheon of his ancestors ? 
 This chimney-piece of gold or brass ; 
 That coat of arms blazon'd in glass ; 
 When these with time and age have end, 
 Thy prowess must thyself commend ; 
 True nobleness doth those alone engage, 
 Who can add virtues to their parentage." 
 
 Mildmay Fane Earl of Westmorland. 
 
 Upon entering the turret, the first thing that 
 caught Miss Pratt's eye was a shaving glass, 
 which she asserted was by no means the proper 
 size and shape for that purpose, being quite differ- 
 ent from the one used by Anthony Whyte, which 
 was broader than it was long, while Lord Ross- 
 ville's was longer than it w^as broad. A dispute, 
 of course, ensued, for the Earl would not be 
 bearded upon such a subject by any woman — 
 when, suddenly giving him the slip in the argu- 
 ment, she exclaimed, " But bless me, weVe forget-
 
 90 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ting the Diana — and what a bad light you've put 
 her in ! There's a great art in hanging pictures ; 
 Mr Whyte brought a man all the way from Lon- 
 don to hang his ; and I'll never forget my fright 
 when he told me the hangman was coming. — 
 Now I see her where I stand — Mrs St Clair, 
 come a little more this way — there now — was there 
 ever such a likeness .?" 
 
 " Astonishing !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Diana never had such incense offered to her 
 before," said Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " The resemblance, if, indeed, there is a re- 
 semblance," said the Earl in manifest displeasure, 
 " is extremely imperfect ; the portrait represents 
 a considerably larger and more robust-looking per- 
 son than Miss St Clair ; it has also something of 
 a bold and masculine air, which, I own, I should 
 be sorry to perceive in any young lady in whom 
 I take any interest, since nothing, in my opinion, 
 derogates so much from female loveliness as a for- 
 ward or presuming carriage." 
 
 " My dear Lord Rossville ! how any body, who 
 has eyes in their head, can dispute that resem- 
 blance — -just turn round, my dear, and show your-
 
 CHAPTER IX. 91 
 
 self," — to Miss St Clair, who, ashamed of the 
 scrutiny, had turned away, and was conversing 
 with Colonel Delraour a little apart. Mr Lynd- 
 say contemplated the picture with a thoughtful 
 air, and occasionally stole a glance at Gertrude, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 " How do you account for such an extraordi- 
 nary likeness .?'' inquired Lady Betty of Mrs St 
 Clair, as she stood, with her fat Flora under her 
 arm, staring at the picture. 
 
 *' I am quite at a loss — if this picture is an 
 ideal creation of the painter's imagination "' 
 
 " It's not that, I can assure you,'' interrupted 
 Miss Pratt — " the original was a real flesh and 
 blood living person, or I've been misinformed,'^ 
 — with a look of interrogation to Lord Rossville. 
 
 " If one of the family, however remote, the re- 
 semblance, as Lord Rossville justly remarked, does 
 sometimes revive, even at distant periods, in the 
 
 person of ;" but Mrs St Clair did not get 
 
 leave to finish her sentence. 
 
 " O if Diana had been a St Clair, there would 
 have been no wonder in the matter, you know !" 
 again dashed in the intolerable Pratt ; " but the 
 truth of the matter is, she was neither more nor
 
 92 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 less than bonny Lizzie Lundie, the huntsman's 
 daughter. " Much IVe heard about Lizzie 
 Lundie, and many a fine song was made upon 
 her, for she was the greatest beauty in the coun- 
 try, high or low. There's one of the songs that's 
 all the fashion now, that I remember singing 
 when I was young, but they've changed the name 
 from Lundie to Lyndsay," and Miss Pratt, in a 
 cracked and unmusical voice, struck up, 
 
 ** Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezy Lyndsay," &c. 
 
 Lord Rossville seemed somewhat disconcerted at 
 this abrupt disclosure of his Diana's humble pe- 
 digree, and anxious to account for Lizzie Lun- 
 die, the huntsman's daughter, being permitted a 
 place amongst the nobles of the land, and that too 
 in his private apartment ; he, therefore, made all 
 possible haste to atone for this solecism in digni- 
 ty, and having hemmed three times, began — 
 
 ^' Since this picture has attracted so much at- 
 tention, and called forth so much animadversion, 
 it is proper, and, indeed, necessary, that some elu- 
 cidation should be thrown on the circumstances 
 to which it owes its birth." 
 
 And again the Earl paused, hemmed, and look-
 
 CHAPTER IX. 93 
 
 ed round, like a peacock spreading its plumage, 
 and straining its neck in all directions, before it 
 can even lift the crumb that has been thrown to 
 it — while Miss Pratt, like a pert active sparrow, 
 taking advantage of its attitudes, darts down and 
 bears off the prize. 
 
 " O the story's soon told, for there's no great 
 mystery about it. The late Lord there," point- 
 ing to a picture of a fat chubby gentleman in a 
 green coat, hunting-horn, and bag-wig, " was a 
 second Nimrod in his young days, and had a per- 
 fect craze for dogs and horses ; and he brought a 
 famous painter here from some place abroad, I for- 
 get the name of it now, to take the beasts' like- 
 nesses — as old Lady Christian used to say, it was 
 a scandal to think of dogs sitting for their pic- 
 tures — ha ! ha ! ha ! — In particular, there was a 
 famous pack of hounds to sit, and the painter 
 chancing to see Lizzie one day with them about 
 her, was struck with the fancy of doing her as a 
 Diana, and it was really a good idea, for I think 
 she's the outset of the picture — Anthony Whyte 
 says he would give a hundred guineas merely for 
 her head and shoulders." 
 
 Mrs St Clair had changed colour repeatedly
 
 94 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 during this piece of biography, and seemed not 
 a little mortified at discovering that her daugh- 
 ter's beauty claimed no higher original than the 
 huntsman's daughter. Upon a more close inspec- 
 tion, she, therefore, declared, that although there 
 might be something in the tout ensemble to catch 
 the eye at first sight, yet, upon examination, it 
 would be found the features and expression were 
 totally different. 
 
 But Lord Rossville, resolved not to be baulked 
 of his story, now commenced a more diffuse nar- 
 rative of the circumstances to which Lizzie Lun- 
 die owed her posthumous fame, concluding with 
 his most unqualified dissent as to the possibility 
 of there being the slightest resemblance except in 
 the colour of the hair. But to do Miss Pratt 
 justice, the resemblance was very remarkable. 
 The Diana's features were on a larger scale, and 
 her countenance had a less soft and intellectual 
 cast than Miss St Clair's ; her figure was also 
 more robust than elegant, her complexion rather 
 vivid than transparent, and her air rather bold 
 than dignified ; but there was the same long-shap- 
 ed, soft, dark-blue eyes, the same Grecian nose 
 and mouth, the same silky, waving, dark ring-
 
 CHAPTER IX. 95 
 
 lets, curling naturally around the open ivory fore- 
 head, forming altogether that rare and peculiar 
 style of beauty where the utmost delicacy of fea- 
 tiure is yet marked and expressive, and the strong- 
 est contrasts of colour are blended into one har- 
 monious whole. 
 
 " Pray, what became of this divinity ?" inquir- 
 ed Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " I'm sure I can't tell you ; I think the story 
 was, that she had been crossed in love with some 
 gentleman, and that she married a Highland dro- 
 ver, or tacksman, I can't tell which, and they 
 went all to sticks and staves." 
 
 " How provoking," said Colonel Delmour, as 
 he still stood contemplating the picture, " that 
 so much beauty should have been created in vain." 
 
 " How do you know that it was created in 
 vain .^" said Mr Lyndsay. 
 
 " Considering how very rare a thing beauty, 
 perfect beauty is, there certainly seems to have 
 been rather a lavish expenditure of it on the 
 huntsman's daughter, and drover's wife." 
 
 " Colonel Delmour, don't you remember what 
 the poet says on that :
 
 96 THE IXHbLllITAXCE. 
 
 * There's many a flower that's born to g7yw unseen, 
 And waste its beauty on the senseless air.' — 
 
 " However rare beauty may be,"" said Mr 
 Lyndsay, passing over Miss Pratt's mis-quota- 
 tion, " your desire of confining it to the higher 
 orders is rather too arbitrary.'"' 
 
 '' They certainly can better appreciate it," re- 
 turned Colonel Delmour ; " there is a refinement 
 of taste requisite to admire such beauty as that," 
 and he glanced from the Diana to Miss St Clair. 
 " How could one of the canaille possibly compre- 
 hend the fine antique cast of those features, the 
 classic contour of the head, the swan-like throat, 
 the inimitable moulding of the cheek ; would not 
 a pair of round white eyes, and blowzy red cheeks, 
 with a snub nose, and a mouth from ear to ear, 
 have been quite as well bestowed upon the dro- 
 ver ?" 
 
 '^ I daresay he could not talk so scientifically 
 on the subject as you do," said Mr Lyndsay ; 
 " but, for all that, he might have been as fond 
 of his wife, and as proud of her too, as either you 
 or I could have been." 
 
 " Impossible — that is, supposing she had been
 
 CHAPTER IX. 97 
 
 of my own rank and station — not Venus herself 
 could have won me to a mesalliance.'''' 
 
 " Suppose the huntsman's daughter had been 
 as perfect in mind and manner as in person ." 
 
 " The idea is absurd — the thing is impossible," 
 interrupted Colonel Delmour, impatiently. 
 
 " It is certainly difficult to conceive refinement 
 of manners in a person of low birth ; but why 
 may not a noble mind be conferred on a peasant 
 as well as on a prince ?" 
 
 " What l'' cried Colonel Delmour, indignantly, 
 " do you really pretend to say that the offspring 
 of a clown or a mechanic — animals who have 
 walked the world in hob-nailed shoes, or sat all 
 their lives cross-legged with their noses at a grind- 
 ing wheel, can possibly possess the same lofty spi- 
 rit as the descendants of heroes and statesmen ? 
 The very thought of being so descended must ele- 
 vate the mind, and give it a conscious superiority 
 over the low-born drudges of the earth." 
 
 " Then you must feel yourself greatly superi- 
 or in mind to Virgil, Horace, Shakespeare, ]\Iil- 
 ton, Spenser, and a long et cetera of illustrious 
 names down to the present day, who, if not abso- 
 lutely low-born, have yet no pretensions to high 
 
 VOL. T. G
 
 98 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 birth. For my own part, I think it is rather hum- 
 bling than elevating to reflect on the titled insig- 
 nificance of this very family, who, though possess- 
 ed of honours, wealth, and power, for centuries, 
 has never produced one man eminent for his vir- 
 tues or his talents — nor, if we may trust to paint- 
 ers, one female celebrated for such beauty as this 
 poor huntsman's daughter." 
 
 " You see her as a goddess, remember," said 
 Colonel Delmour, ironically ; " perhaps in her 
 blue flannel jupon, unsandalled feet, ' and ker- 
 chief, in a comely' cotton gown, carrying a mess 
 to the dogs, she would have had fewer attractions 
 even for your noble nature." 
 
 " There is a taste in moral as well as in cor- 
 poreal beauty," said Mr Lyndsay, " and I can 
 love and admire both for their own intrinsic me- 
 rits, without the aid of ornament. You, Delmour, 
 must have them in court dress, with stars and 
 coronets — but with beauty such as that," and his 
 eye unconsciously rested on Gertrude ; " had 
 the mind, principles, and manners corresponded 
 to it, I could have loved even Lizzie Lundie — 
 perhaps too well." 
 
 " Had the huntsman's daughter been an angel 
 
 t
 
 CHAPTEIl IX. 99 
 
 and a goddess in one,'" replied Colonel Delmour 
 warmly, " I never could have thought of her as 
 rny wife — there is degradation in the very idea." 
 
 All this while Miss Pratt had, as usual, been 
 gabbling to the rest of the party, in a manner 
 which prevented their hearing or joining in this 
 argument. Miss St Clair, indeed, had contrived 
 to pick up a little of it, and warmly adopted Co- 
 lonel Delmour's sentiments on the subject. 
 
 " I wonder what became of Lizzie's family, for 
 I think always I heard she had a daughter as 
 great a beauty as herself — I've a notion it was a 
 
 daughter of hers Mrs St Clair, are you well 
 
 enough ? — Bless my heart, she's going to faint !" 
 
 All crowded round Mrs St Clair, who seemed, 
 indeed, on the point of fainting — the windows 
 were thrown open — water was brought — smelling- 
 bottles applied — till, at length, she revived, and, 
 with a faint smile, avowed that she had been in- 
 disposed for some days, and was subj ect to spasms 
 of that nature. Lord Rossville bent over his 
 sister-in-law, as she sat at the open window, with 
 the utmost solicitude — he felt really interested in 
 her, for she had listened to him with the most 
 unceasing attention, and without once interrupt-
 
 100 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ing him — a degree of deference he was little ac- 
 customed to in his own family. At length she 
 declared herself perfectly recovered, and, sup- 
 ported by his Lordship and her daughter, she re- 
 tired to her own apartment. 
 
 " That was an unlucky remark of yours, 
 Colonel, about low marriages,"" whispered Miss 
 Pratt ; "I really think it was that overset her 
 — though I suspect Lizzie Lundie had some- 
 thing to do with it too ; very likely some relation- 
 ship there, for you know the Blacks are not just 
 at the top of the tree," — with a knowing wink ; 
 " that, and the smell of Lord Rossville's boots 
 and shoes together, was really enough to overset 
 her C but Miss Pratt was now left to gabble to 
 herself, for the rest of the party had dispersed.
 
 r 
 
 CHAPTER X. 101 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I cannot blame thee, 
 Who am myself attached with weariness 
 To the dulling of my spirits. 
 
 Tempest. 
 
 " How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable, 
 seem to me all the uses of this world," is a feel- 
 ing that must be more or less experienced by 
 every one who has feeling enough to distinguish 
 one sensation from another, and leisure enough for 
 ennui. There are people, it is well known, who 
 have no feelings, and there are others who have 
 not time to feel — but, alas ! there are many whose 
 misfortune it is to have feeling and leisure, and 
 who have time to be nervous — have time to be dis- 
 contented — have time to be unhappy — have time 
 to feel ill used by the world — have time to weary 
 of pleasure in every shape — to weary of men, 
 women, and children — to weary of books, grave
 
 102 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 and witty — to weary of authors, and even of 
 authoresses — and who would have wearied as 
 much of the wit of a Madame de Stael as of the 
 babbles of Miss Pratt. 
 
 In this disposition, perhaps the only solace is 
 to find some tangible and lawful object of which 
 to weary — some legitimate source of ennui, and 
 then " sweet are the uses of adversity,'"' when 
 they come, even in the questionable shape of a 
 Miss Pratt. In the hum-drum society of a dull 
 county, what a relief to the weary soul to have 
 some person to weary of ! To have a sort of hag~ 
 fox to turn out, when fresh game cannot be had, 
 is an enjoyment which many of my readers have 
 doubtless experienced. Such was Miss Pratt^ 
 every body wearied of her, or said they wearied 
 of her, and every body abused her, while yet she 
 was more sought after and asked about, than she 
 would have been had she possessed the wisdom of 
 a More, or the benevolence of a Fry. She was, in 
 fact, the very heart of the shire, and gave life 
 and energy to all the pulses in the parish. She 
 supplied it with streams of gossip and chit-chat 
 in others, and subject of ridicule and abuse 
 in herself Even the dullest laird had some-
 
 CHAPTEIl X. 103 
 
 thing good to tell of Miss Pratt, and some- 
 thing bad to say of her — for nothing can convey 
 a more opposite meaning than these apparent sy- 
 nonyms. 
 
 But there was no one to whom Miss Pratt was 
 so unequivocal a pest as to Lord Rossville, for 
 his Lordship was a stranger to ennui — perhaps 
 cause and effect are rarely combined in one per- 
 son, and those who can weary others, possess a 
 never-faihng source of amusement in themselves. 
 Besides, the Earl was independent of !Miss Pratt, 
 as he possessed a wide range for his unwearying 
 wearying powers in his own family ; for he could 
 wear)' his steward — and his housekeeper — and 
 his gamekeeper — and his coachman — and his 
 groom — and his gardener, all the hours of the 
 day, by perpetual fault-finding and directing. 
 Perhaps, after all, the only uncloying pleasiure 
 in life is that of finding fault. The gamester may 
 weary of his dice — the lover of his charmer — 
 the bon-viva7it of his bottle — the virtuoso of his 
 \irtu — but while this round world remains with all 
 its imperfections on its head, the real fault-find- 
 er will never weary of finding fault. The provok- 
 ing part of Miss Pratt was, that there was no pos-
 
 104 THE IXHEKITANCE. 
 
 sibility of finding fault with her. As well might 
 Lord Rossville have attempted to admonish the 
 brook that babbled past him, or have read lectures 
 to the fly which buzzed round his head. For forty 
 years Lord Rossville had been trying to break her 
 in, but in vain. Much may be done, as we every 
 day see, to alter and overcome nature : Poneys 
 are made to waltz — horses to hand tea-kettles — 
 dogs to read — birds to cast accounts — fleas to walk 
 in harness; but to restrain the volubility of afemale 
 tongue, is a task that has hitherto defied the 
 power of man. With so much of what may be 
 styled dissonance in similarity, it may easily be 
 imagined, that Lord Rossville and Miss Pratt, 
 even when most in unison, produced any thing 
 but harmony. Yet they only jarred — they ne- 
 ver actually quarrelled, for they had been accus- 
 tomed to each other all their lives — and while she 
 laid all the rebuffs and reproofs she received to 
 the score of bile, he tolerated her impertinence on 
 account of blood. 
 
 The softness and suavity of Mrs St Clair's 
 manners formed so striking a contrast to the 
 sharp gnat-like attacks of Miss Pratt, that Lord 
 Rossville became every day more attached to his
 
 CHArXER X. 105 
 
 sister-in-law"'s company, and she soon found her- 
 self so firmly fixed in his good graces, that she 
 ventured to request permission that she and her 
 daughter might be allowed to visit her relations, 
 with whom she had hitherto only communicated 
 by letter. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear Madam," replied the 
 Earl ; " nothing can be more proper and reason- 
 able than that you should recognize and visit the 
 different members of your own family, who, I am 
 happy to think, are all persons of unblemished re- 
 putation, and respectable stations in life, which 
 respectability is in a fair way of being increased 
 by votes which, I understand, an uncle and bro- 
 ther of yours have lately acquired in the county; 
 and as there is every appearance of our having a 
 warmly contested election shortly, their political 
 influence, if properly directed, cannot fail of prov- 
 ing highly beneficial to them. I therefore give 
 my unqualified assent as to the propriety of your 
 visiting yoin: own family, as soon as we can ar- 
 range the proper time, mode, and manner of do- 
 ing so — but, with regard to the daughter of the 
 Honourable Thomas St Clair, I must candidly 
 acknowledge to you, my dear Madam, I have not
 
 106 THE INIIElllTANCE. 
 
 yet brought my mind to any fixed determination 
 on that point — your own good sense will natural- 
 ly point out to you the very peculiar situation in 
 which she stands. Miss St Clair is as present to 
 be viewed as the heiress presumptive to the 
 titles, honours, and estates of this family ; but, 
 observe, although presumptive, she is by no 
 means heiress apparent — for there is a wide and 
 important distinction betwixt these apparent sy- 
 nonyms."" — Here his Lordship entered into a 
 most elaborate explanation of these differences of 
 distinction. — " And now, my dear Madam, I am 
 sure you will agree with me, that, in a situation 
 of such peculiar delicacy, every step which Miss 
 St Clair takes ought to be weighed with the ut- 
 most nicety and deliberation ; since what might be 
 befitting the heiress presumptive might be deem- 
 ed derogatory to the heireSs apparent — and what 
 dignity demands of the heiress apparent the world 
 might censure as an undue assumption of conse- 
 quence in the heiress presumptive.*" 
 
 Mrs St Clair, though choking with indigna- 
 tion at this round-about insinuation that her fa- 
 mily was scarcely fit to be associated with, by her 
 own daughter, yet repressed her indignation, and 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER X. 107 
 
 as she did not consider it of reiicli consequence 
 that she should accompany her on her first visit, 
 she readily yielded the matter with a good grace. 
 But no sooner had she done so, than the Earl, as 
 was often his custom, immediately tacked about, 
 and took the opposite side of the argument. The 
 result was, that I\Irs and Miss St Clair should 
 immediately proceed to \'isit the respective mem- 
 bers of the Black family, and the EarFs travelling 
 chariot-and-four, with all appliances to boot, was 
 ordered out for the occasion. It was v.ith a thrill 
 of dehght ]\Irs St Clair took her place in it, and 
 drove off in all the eclat of rank and state.
 
 108 THE IXHICRITAXCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Pictures like these, dear Madam, to design, 
 Ask no firm hand, and no unerring line. 
 Some wandering touches, some reflected light, 
 Some flying stroke alone can hit 'em right. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Fearful anticipations mingled with Mrs St 
 Clair's natural affection, as she thought of the 
 meeting with her own family. Its only mem- 
 bers consisted of a brother — who, partly by in- 
 dustry, partly by good fortune, had become the 
 proprietor of a large tract of unimproved land in 
 the neighbourhood — two unmarried sisters re- 
 siding in the county town, and an old uncle from 
 the East Indies, a half-brother of her mother's, 
 reported to be enormously rich. When she had 
 left home, her brother was a mere raw unformed 
 lad, but he was now an elderly man, the husband 
 of a woman she had never seen, and the father of 
 a numerous family. After quitting the noble do-
 
 CHAPTER XI. 109 
 
 main of Rossville, the country gradually assumed 
 a less picturesque appearance — rocks, woods, and 
 rivers, now gave way to arable land, well-fenced 
 fields, and well-filled barn-yards ; while these, 
 in tiu-n, yielded to vast tracts of improveable land, 
 thriving belts of young plantation, ring-stone 
 dikes, and drains in all directions. 
 
 It was in the midst of this scenery that Belle- 
 vue stood pre-eminent. It was a showy, white- 
 washed, winged-house, situated on the top of the 
 hiU, commanding an extensive view of "muirs 
 and mosses many, O,"" with traces of cultivation 
 interspersed, and which by many was considered 
 as a very fine — and by all was styled a very com- 
 manding prospect. A dazzling white gate, with 
 spruce cannister lodge, opened upon a well-gra- 
 veUed avenue which led to the mansion, surround- 
 ed by a little smiling lawn, with a tuft of ever- 
 greens in the centre. On one hand appeared a 
 promising garden wall ; on the other, a set of com- 
 modious-looking farm-ofiices — every thing was in 
 the highest order — all bespoke the flourishing 
 gentleman farmer. The door was opened by a 
 stout florid foot-boy, in flaunting livery, whose 
 yellow locks seemed to stiffen at sight of the
 
 110 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 splendid equipage that met his view , The in- 
 terrogatories, however, at length recalled him to a 
 sense of duty ; and upon the question being put 
 for the third time, whether his master or mis- 
 tress were at home — he returned that cautious 
 answer, which marks the wary well-tutored though 
 perplexed menial, i. e. that he was not sure, but 
 he would see. After an interval of about five mi- 
 nutes, during which much opening and shutting 
 of doors was heard, and many a head was seen 
 peeping over blinds and from behind shutters, the 
 prudent Will returned with an invitation to the 
 ladies to alight ; and, leading the way, he con- 
 ducted to a well-furnished, but evidently unin- 
 habited drawing-room, where he left them, with 
 an assurance, that his mistress would be there in 
 a minute. Many minutes, however, elapsed, dur- 
 ing which the visitors were left to find amusement 
 for themselves, which was no easy task where the 
 materials were wanting. In such circumstances, 
 a fire is a never-failing resource — if bad we can 
 stir it, if good we can enjoy it — but here was no 
 fire, and the bright handsome stove was only to 
 be admired for itself, and the profusion of white 
 paper which filled it. The carpet was covered.
 
 CHAPTER XI. Ill 
 
 the chairs were in their wrappers, the screens were 
 in bags — even the chimney-piece, that refuge of 
 the weary, showed only two handsome girandoles. 
 There were two portraits, indeed, large as Hfe, 
 hanging on each side of the fire-place, in all the 
 rawness of bad painting, glaring in tints which 
 Time himself could never mellow. The one, it 
 might be presumed, was Mr Black, in a bright 
 blue coat, pure white waistcoat, and drooping 
 Fall of Foyers-looking neckcloth, holding a glove, 
 and looking very sensible. The other, it might 
 be inferred, was Mrs Black, sitting under a tree, 
 in a yellow gown and ill put on turban, smihng 
 with all her might, and both evidently bent upon 
 putting all the expression they possibly could into 
 their faces, by way of getting a good pennyworth 
 for their money. 
 
 At length the door opened, and Mrs Black, in 
 propria persona, entered, followed by a train of 
 daughters. She was rather embonpoint, with a 
 fine healthy colour, clear blue eyes, and an open 
 good-humoured expression of countenance — form- 
 ing, altogether, what is expressively termed a 
 comely woman, which, if it mean something less 
 than beauty, is often more attractive. She had
 
 112 THE IXHERITANCE. 
 
 evidently been dressing for the occasion, as her 
 gown seemed scarcely yet out of the fold, but look- 
 ed like a thing apart from her, and had that inex- 
 pressible air of constraint which gowns will have, 
 when gowns are made things of primary import- 
 ance. 
 
 Mrs Black welcomed her guests in a manner 
 which, if it had nothing of the elegance of ton, 
 was yet free from affectation or pretension. She 
 expressed her regret, that Mr Black should be 
 from home ; but she had sent in search of him, 
 and hoped he would soon cast up. Mrs St Clair, 
 resolving to be delightful, sat with her sister-in- 
 law's hand in her's, and, with a face of the most 
 affectionate interest, was presently deep in in- 
 quiries as to the state of her family, the number 
 of her children, their ages, sexes, names, pursuits, 
 and so forth. The amount of the information 
 she received was this : — Mrs Black was the mo- 
 ther of eleven children living, and two dead ; — 
 her eldest daughter (who had just gone to take 
 a walk) was going to be married, and her youngest 
 to be weaned. It was thought a very good mar- 
 riage for Bell, as Major Waddell had made a 
 handsome fortune in the Company's service, and
 
 (CHAPTER XI. Il3 
 
 was very well connected in the county, being 
 cousin-german to Sir William Waddell of AVad- 
 dell Mains, and very likely to succeed to him, if 
 he was spared. He was also related to the Bogs 
 of Boghall, and the present Boghall had married 
 a daughter of Lord Fairacre's, and their son was 
 going to stand for the county. ^lajor Waddell, 
 to be sure, was a good deal older tlian Bell ; but 
 he had kept his health well in India, and though 
 not a beauty, was very well — at least, he pleas- 
 ed Bell, and that was everything. Due congra- 
 tulations were here offered by Mrs St Clair, with 
 the customary' remarks, of its being a pleasant 
 and desirable thing for the first of a family to 
 form a respectable connection ; that any disparity 
 of years was on the right side, &c. &c. &c. ; con- 
 cluding with a request to be favoured with a sight 
 of the young people. Mrs Black's eyes beamed 
 delight as she pulled the bell, and gave orders 
 for the children to be brought, observing, at the 
 same time, that they were sad romps, and seldom 
 fit to be seen. Miss St Clair, meanwhile, was 
 engaged with her cousins, pretty good-natured 
 looking girls, one of whom talked much of balls, 
 and officers, and poetry ; but as the children en- 
 voi.. I. H
 
 114 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 tered, she sighed, and said, there was an end of 
 all rational conversation. The young Masters 
 and Misses Black had all evidently been prepar- 
 ing for exhibition. They were fine, stout, bloom- 
 ing, awkward creatures, with shining faces, and 
 straight-combed, though rebellious-looking, hair 
 — while a smart cap, red eyes, and sour face, be- 
 spoke the sufferings of the baby. Altogether 
 they formed, what is politely called, an uncom- 
 mon fine family — they all made bows and curt- 
 seys — walked with their toes in — stood with their 
 fingers in their mouths — and, in short, were a 
 very fine family. Of course, they were much 
 commended and caressed by their new relations, 
 till the entrance of Mr Black turned the atten- 
 tion into another channel. Mr Black was the on- 
 ly one of the family on whom the phenomenon of 
 a carriage-and-four had produced no visible ef- 
 fect; — he entered ill-dressed, overheated, and 
 with a common, even vulgar air — though, in re- 
 ality, he was rather a good-looking man. Mrs 
 St Clair had expected something of a scene at 
 meeting with her brother ; but he seemed to have 
 no thoughts of any thing of the kind, for he re- 
 ceived his sister with that look and manner of
 
 CHAPTER XI. 115 
 
 plain, hearty welcome, which showed that any 
 thing of fine feeling would be completely thrown 
 away. Yet his greeting was sufficiently affec- 
 tionate in its own hlunt, homely kind. 
 
 " It is a long time since you and I have met, 
 Sally," said he, as he seated himself beside his 
 sister, with a child on each knee ; " but you have 
 kept your looks well — to be sure you haven't had 
 so large a share of the evils of life as I have 
 had,'' — looking round with evident pride and ex- 
 ultation on his offspring, and affecting to sigh at 
 the same time. IMrs St Clair shook her head, 
 and sighed too, but her sigh was a much better 
 got up sigh than her brother's — it said, or was in- 
 tended to say, " Heaven only knows what I have 
 suffered for that one !" 
 
 Mrs Black seemed to understand it, for she 
 said, with a look of sympathy, — 
 
 " I'm sure an only child must be a great mis- 
 fortune, and we have great reason to be thankful, 
 Mr Black, that so many of ours have been spar- 
 ed." Then beckoning one of her daughters, she 
 whispered some instructions to her, accompanied 
 with a key. The young lady left the room, and 
 in a few minutes the yellow-haired laddie enter-
 
 116 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ed, bearing a massive silver tray, conveying the 
 richest of cakes, and the strongest and sweetest of 
 wines. As Miss St Clair threw back her bonnet 
 to partake of the hospitalities, her uncle regarded 
 her with more earnestness than good breeding, 
 then glanced all round on his own offspring. 
 
 " I'm trying if I can make out a likeness be- 
 twixt your daughter and my brats,*" said he to his 
 sister ; " but I don't think she has much of a 
 Black face.'' 
 
 " She is thought to resemble her father's fa- 
 mily more than mine," replied Mrs St Clair, — 
 colouring deeply, and looking rather displeased. 
 
 " None of them that I have ever seen," re- 
 turned Mr Black ; — " her father, if I remember 
 right, had light hair and a flat face, and " 
 
 '' There is no end to arguing upon resem- 
 blances," interrupted Mrs St Clair, rising hasti- 
 ly ; " the general expression is sometimes very 
 strong, when every feature is different ;" — and she 
 was preparing to depart, when one of the child- 
 ren, who was looking out at a window, exclaim- 
 ed, " Here's Bell and the Major !" — and to de- 
 part in the face of Bell and the Major was de- 
 clared to be impossible ; so Mrs St Clair, though
 
 CHAPTEll XT. 117 
 
 fretting at the delay, was obliged to await the en- 
 trance of the lovers. 
 
 Fortunately Miss Bell had no toilette duties to 
 perform, for she was dressed for the ]\Iajor in a 
 fashionablegownmadebyMissSkrimpskirtof Tat- 
 tleton, from a pattern of Miss Gorewell's in Edin- 
 burgh, vv'ho had got it from Miss Fleecewell of 
 London, who had had hers direct from Madame 
 Chefdoeuvre of Paris. Miss Bell, therefore, felt 
 no disheartening doubts as to her appearance ; 
 but firmly relying on the justness of her propor- 
 tions, and the orthodox length of her waist, and 
 breadth of her shoulders, and strong in the con- 
 sciousness of being flounced and hemmed up to 
 the knees, she boldly entered, followed by her be- 
 trothed. Miss Isabella Black was really a very 
 pretty girl — she had a pretty figure, pretty fea- 
 tures, pretty hair, a pretty complexion, a pretty 
 bonnet, a pretty shawl, pretty boots, and a pret- 
 ty watch. But over all this prettiness was diffus- 
 ed an intolerable air of folly, affectation, and con- 
 ceit, which completely marred the effect of her 
 charms. 
 
 Major Waddell was a very })assable sort of 
 person for a nabob ; — he had a dingy bronze com-
 
 118 THE IXHEIIITANCE. 
 
 plexion, tawny eyes, tolerable teeth, and a long, 
 wrinkled, smirking, baboonish physiognomy. 
 
 " Why, Bell, we were afraid you had run 
 away with the Major,*" said Mr Black, facetious- 
 ly, addressing his daughter on her entrance, 
 
 " That is a very odd speech, I think, papa, to 
 one in my situation," said Miss Bell, affecting to 
 look much disconcerted. 
 
 " Come, come, here are no strangers, so there 
 need be no secrets : — it is pretty well known that 
 if you don't run away with the Major, the Major 
 will run away with you some of these days." 
 
 Here Mr Black laughed, and Mrs Black 
 laughed, and all the Masters and Misses Black 
 laughed loud and long, — while in the general 
 laugh the fair bride, as if overwhelmed with con- 
 fusion, took her cousin aside and whispered — 
 
 " This is a very awkward scrape I am brought 
 into by papa's bluntness. It certainly was my in- 
 tention to have announced the matter to my 
 aunt and you at a proper time, but not just at 
 present ; so I must request as a particular favour, 
 that you will say nothing about it at Rossville — 
 it is so very unpleasant to be the talk of the whole 
 county upon an affair of this kind, that the Ma-
 
 CHAPTER XI. 119^ 
 
 jor and I had resolved to have it kept as quiet as 
 possible. It was only yesterday he communicated 
 it to Sir William Waddell, and he has not yet 
 mentioned it to Lord Fairacre, or any of his other 
 relations." 
 
 Mrs St Clair was too impatient to be gone, to 
 allow any farther latitude for the lovers to show 
 off, but was again in the midst of leave-taking. 
 Much was said about having a longer visit — of 
 taking a family dinner — of spending a few days 
 — of leaving Miss St Clair to spend a little time 
 and get acquainted with her cousins ; and Mrs 
 St Clair could only disengage herself from this 
 well meant hospitality, by promising to take the 
 earliest opportunity of repeating her visit. '' I 
 trust I may be excused from returning this visit/' 
 said Miss Bell, with a look of modest importance, 
 " as in my situation I go no where at present." 
 
 Escorted by Mr Black and the ]\Iajor, and 
 followed by the whole family, INIrs and Miss St 
 Clair resumed their places in the carriage, and 
 were soon driven beyond the precincts of Bellevue. 
 Their next destination was to the house of the 
 Miss Blacks, in the county town, and there they 
 were accordingly driven.
 
 120 THE INHERITANCE, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain 
 Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain. 
 Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise ! 
 Kach stamps its image as the other flies ! 
 Each, as the various avenues of sense. 
 Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense, 
 Brightens or fades ; yet all, with magic art, 
 Control the latent fibres of the heart. 
 
 Pleasures j)f Memory. 
 
 There are few minds so callous as to revisit 
 the scenes of their childhood without experiencing 
 some emotion. And whether these scenes lie in 
 the crowded city, amidst all the coarse and ordi- 
 nary objects of vulgar life, or in the lonely valley, 
 with its green hills and its gliding stream — the 
 same feelings swell the heart as the thoughts of 
 the past rush over it ; for they speak to us of 
 the careless days of our childhood, of the gay 
 dreams of our youth, of the transient pleasures of 
 our prime, of the faded joys of our old age. They
 
 CHAPTER XII. 151 
 
 speak to us of parents now sleeping in the dust, 
 of playfellows in a far distant land, of companions 
 altered or alienated, of friends become as stran- 
 gers, of love changed into indifference. They 
 speak to us — it may be — of time mispent, of ta- 
 lents misapplied, of warnings neglected, of bless- 
 ings despised, of peace departed. They may speak 
 to us, perchance, of God's holy law slighted, of 
 his precepts contemned, of himself forsaken — of 
 hearts, alas ! not purified and renewed by that 
 grace whose aid they never sought, but, like the 
 wasted volcano, parched and blasted in their own 
 unholy fires. Fairer scenes all may have viewed 
 than those on which their eyes first opened, but 
 in them we behold only the inanimate objects of 
 nature, which, however they may charm the senses 
 or fill the imagination, yet want thatxdeep and 
 powerful interest which seems entwined with our 
 existence, and which gives " a local habitation 
 and a name"' so powerful a mastery over us. 
 
 Something too there is of solemn thought in 
 returning to a father's house — whether that fa- 
 ther's arms are open to receive his long absent 
 child, or whether the eye that would have wel- 
 comed, and the tongue that would have blessed
 
 122 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 • 
 
 US, are now mouldering in the grave. Ah ! many 
 are the wild tumultuous waves that roll over the 
 human mind, and obliterate many of its fairest 
 characters — its fondest recollections. But still 
 the indelible impression of a parent's love remains 
 impressed upon the heart. Even when steeped in 
 guilt or seared in crime, one spot — one little spot 
 — will still be found consecrated to the purest — 
 the holiest of earthly affections. 
 
 It was with these mingled emotions Mrs St 
 Clair found herself at the door of that mansion 
 she had quitted thirty-three years before. It was 
 the house in which she had first seen the light — 
 where her parents had dwelt — and where she 
 had left them surrounded by a numerous family 
 — ^but all were gone save the brother she had just 
 seen, and two sisters, now its sole tenants. Even 
 the most artificial characters still retain some na- 
 tural feelings, and as Mrs St Clair crossed the 
 threshold of her once happy home, and the 
 thoughts of the past rushed over her, she ex- 
 claimed with a burst of anguish, — 
 
 " Would to God I had never left it !" and, 
 throwing herself upon a seat, she wept without 
 control.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 123 
 
 There is something in real emotion, that al- 
 ways carries conviction along with it. Although 
 well accustomed to the ebullitions of her mother^'s 
 character. Miss St Clair saw and felt the depth 
 of her present feelings, and sought by her tender 
 and affectionate sympathy to soften her sense of 
 sorrow. But, with a look and gesture, expressive 
 only of abhorrence, her mother repelled her from 
 her. At that moment a lady approached, and, 
 throwing herself into her arms, Mrs St Clair 
 sobbed in bitterness of spirit, while her sister 
 mingled her tears with hers. Miss Black was the 
 first to regain her composure, and she said in a 
 voice, which, though still tremulous with emotion, 
 was yet soft and sweet, — 
 
 " I love those feelings, my dear Sarah, they 
 are so natural. You miss all those you left be- 
 hind, and you are thinking what a happier meet- 
 ing this might have been, had it pleased God to 
 have spared them to us — but I trust there is a 
 happy meeting yet in store for us." 
 
 " Oh, no, no !" sobbed Mrs St Clair almost 
 convulsively, as she leant her head on her sister'^s 
 shoulder. 
 
 " My dear Sarah,'' said Miss Black in a tone
 
 124 THE IXHERITANCE. 
 
 of tender reproach, accompanied by an affection- 
 ate embrace ; " but come, let me take you to our 
 poor Mary, who cannot go to you." 
 
 Mrs St Clair raised her head, and made an ef- 
 fort to subdue her emotion as she suffered her- 
 self to be led to the apartment where her young- 
 est and favourite sister was. When she had left 
 home, she had left her a lovely romping child of 
 five years old, with laughing blue eyes and curL 
 ing flaxen hair ; and this image of infant beauty 
 she had ever treasured in her memory, though 
 reason had told her the reality had long since 
 fled. But, alas ! reason can but imperfectly pic- 
 ture to us the slow and silent ravages of time — 
 and at sight of her sister Mrs St Clair felt as 
 much shocked as though the change had been the 
 metamorphose of an instant instead of the gradual 
 progress of years of suffering and decay. Ima- 
 gination, indeed, could not have pictured to itself 
 ought so affecting as the contra>st thus present- 
 ed by a glance of the mind. Mrs St Clair 
 thought only of the gay, rosy, frolicksome crea- 
 ture, whose faiiy form seemed even yet to bound 
 before her eyes, or hang round her neck in infan- 
 tine fondness — and on that self same spot where
 
 CHAPTER XH. 125 
 
 last she had parted from her, she now beheld her 
 a monument of premature decay- — pale, motion- 
 less, and paralytic. For a moment she shrunk 
 from the half living, half beatified, looking be- 
 ing, with that instinctive horror with which the 
 worldly mind recoils from all that reminds it of 
 perishable nature. A faint streak of red tinged 
 her sister's sallow cheek, and a tear glistened in 
 her soft blue eye, and her heart seemed to swell 
 — ^perhaps with some almost forgotten feelings of 
 humiliation at her own infirmities. But when 
 Mrs St Clair again looked, the slight hectic had 
 fled, the tear was dried, and the sigh was check- 
 ed. 
 
 " God's will be done, my sister r said she, 
 with a look and accent of meek and holy resigna- 
 tion. iVIrs St Clair could not speak, but she threw 
 herself on her sister's neck and wept. 
 
 Gertrude, meanwhile, had stood aloof — her 
 heart oppressed with sorrow, and her eyes filled 
 with tears, as she contrasted her mother's feehngs 
 towards her sisters, with those she had testified 
 towards her ; and the painful conviction that 
 she was not beloved, forced itself upon her 
 in all the bitterness such a discovery was cal-
 
 126 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 culated to excite. At length the agitation of the 
 meeting between the sisters began to subside, 
 and Miss Black, approaching her niece, tenderly 
 embraced her, and led her to her sister. " Here 
 is a stranger who has been too long overlooked," 
 said she ; *' but once seen she will not be soon 
 forgotten ;" and she gently untied her bonnet, 
 and looked on her with eyes of delighted affec- 
 tion. Her aunt Mary sweetly welcomed her, 
 and also regarded her with an expression of love 
 and tenderness, such as Gertrude felt she never 
 had read even in her mother's eye. There was, 
 indeed, little resemblance between Mrs St Clair 
 and her sisters, either in mind or appearance. 
 Elizabeth, the eldest, belonged to that class who 
 can neither be called handsome nor ugly, but are 
 yet sometimes thought both. She had regular 
 features, and a mild sensible countenance ; but 
 she was pale and thin, and, to casual observers, 
 had altogether an air of mediocrity, which, in fact, 
 was rather indicative of the consistency and uni- 
 formity of her character. She was a Christian in 
 all things, and its simple, unostentatious spirit 
 pervaded all her looks, words, and actions, and 
 gave to them a charm, which, in her station, no
 
 CHAPTER XII. 127 
 
 worldly acquirements could have imparted. Her 
 sister was many years younger, and in spite of sick- 
 ness and suifering, still retained traces of great 
 beauty. Every feature was perfect — but the dim 
 eye, the pale cheek, and the colourless lip, could 
 now only claim pity, where once they had chal- 
 lenged admiration. Yet neither pain nor sickness 
 had been able to chase the seraphic expression 
 which beamed on her countenance like sunshine 
 amid ruins. It was the look of one already puri- 
 fied from all earthly passions, but who still look- 
 ed with tenderness on the frailties of her fellow 
 
 mortals. 
 
 Mrs St Clair seemed little gratified by the 
 fondness her sisters testified for her daughter. 
 She remained silent and abstracted, with her eyes 
 fixed on the memorials of former days ; for every 
 thing r^nained in the same primitive order as 
 when she had left them ; and every thing told 
 some long forgotten tale, or roused some sad 
 though slumbering recollection. She fixed her 
 eyes on some foreign shells which decorated the 
 old-fashioned chimney-piece, — and what a train of 
 associations did these mute and insignificant ob- 
 jects conjure up ! They were the gift of one
 
 1^8 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 who had loved her in early youth, and who had 
 brought them to her — (all that he had to bring) 
 from afar — and dearly had she prized them, for 
 then she had loved the giver. But he was a poor 
 
 and friendless orphan boy and she became 
 
 the wife of an EarPs son. 
 
 All may choose their own path in life, but who 
 can tell to where that path may lead? " The lot," 
 indeed, " is cast into the lap, but the whole 
 disposing thereof is of the Lord." Mrs St 
 Clair had chosen that of ambition, and for thirty 
 years she had dragged out life in exile, poverty, 
 and obscurity — while the one she had forsaken, 
 that of faithful and disinterested affection, would 
 have led her to the summit of fame, wealth, and 
 honour. The poor despised sailor boy had dis- 
 tinguished himself for his skill and bravery, and 
 in the honourable career of his profession, had 
 won for himself a noble fortune, and a name that 
 would descend to posterity. This Mrs St Clair 
 knew, for she had heard of his heroic exploits, 
 with feelings of the bitterest regret and self-re- 
 proach ; and it was those feelings which spread 
 their gloom over her countenance, as she looked
 
 CHAPTER XII. 1^9 
 
 on the tokens of his youthful love, and thought 
 of the valiant, high-minded being she had barter- 
 ed for a shadow of greatness. She withdrew her 
 eyes, and they fell upon a venerable family Bible, 
 from whence she had been accustomed to hear 
 her mother read a chapter morning and evening 
 to her family. She recalled, as though it had 
 been yesterday, the last evening she had passed 
 in her father's house. The figure of her mother 
 was before her — her voice sounded in her ears — 
 the words recurred to her then as they had oflen 
 done since. It was the last chapter of Ecclesi- 
 astes, unrivaUed for its beauty and sublimit}^, by 
 aught that prophet ever spoke, or poet wrote, be- 
 ginning with that touching exhortation — " Re- 
 member now thy Creator in the days of thy 
 youth, while the evil days come not, nor the 
 years draw nigh, when thou shalt say I have no 
 pleasure in them ;" — and ending -w-ith that awful 
 assurance, " For God shall bring every work 
 into judgment, with every secret thing, whether 
 it be good or whether it be evil.'' Mrs St Clair 
 uttered an involuntary groan, and closed her 
 eyes. 
 
 " You see much to remind you of the days 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 130 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 that are gone, my dear sister," said Miss Black 
 tenderly ; " but when the first impression is over, 
 you will love to look upon those relics, as we do 
 for the sake of those who loved us/' 
 
 " Never ! ah, never !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair, 
 starting up, and going to the window ; " every 
 thing here is torture to me — the very air suffo- 
 cates me." 
 
 She threw open the window and leant out, 
 but it was only to behold other mementos of 
 days past and gone. She looked upon the little 
 garden, the scene of many a childish gambol — it 
 lay in the full blaze of a meridian sun, and all 
 was fair and calm. An old laburnum tree still 
 hung its golden blossoms over a rustic seat at 
 one corner of the garden, and the time since she 
 had sat there and decked herself in its fantastic 
 garlands seemed as nothing. She remembered, 
 too, when, after a long childish illness, her father 
 had carried her in his arms to the garden, with 
 what ecstacy she had breathed the fresh air, and 
 looked on the blue sky, and plucked the gaudiest 
 flowers. " It was on such a day as this," thought 
 she ; *' the air is as fresh now as it was then — the 
 sky is as fair — the flowers as sweet; — but my
 
 (HAPTEK XTI. 131 
 
 father — ah ! were he still alive, would he thank 
 Heaven now as he did then, for having preserved 
 his child !" 
 
 And again the bitter drops fell from her eyes 
 as she turned sickening from the \'iew. The chord 
 of feeling had been stretched too high to regain 
 its ordinary pitch without an effort ; — it is some- 
 times easier to break the chain than to loosen it. 
 ]\Irs St Clair felt her mind untuned for ordinary 
 communing, and she therefore took an abrupt 
 leave of her sisters, with a promise of returning 
 soon when her nerves should be stronger. Hur- 
 rying through the crowd, collected around the 
 splendid equipage, she threw herself into it as if 
 afraid of being recognized, and called impatiently 
 to her daughter to follow. The postillions crack- 
 ed their whips — the crowd fell back, and the 
 proud pageant rattled and glittered along till lost 
 to the gaze of the en\ying and admiring throng.
 
 132 THE INHERITAXCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Nothing is lost on him who sees, 
 
 With an eye that feeling gave, 
 For him there's a story in every breeze. 
 
 And a picture in every wave. 
 
 Song. 
 
 Mrs St Clair and her daughter proceeded for 
 some time in profound silence. The former seem- 
 ed plunged in painful meditation, the latter felt 
 grieved and mortified at her mother's caprice and 
 unkindness to her. The first thing which roused 
 Mrs St Clair was the view of Rossville Castle, 
 rising proudly above the woods which embosomed 
 it — and, as she looked, gradually her brow clear- 
 ed, her eye brightened, and her countenance re- 
 gained its usual expression. 
 
 " Gertrude, my love," said she, taking her 
 daughter's hand, '^ I have almost forgot you to- 
 day. But your own heart will enable you to con-
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 133 
 
 ceive what mine must have suflPered ;" and she 
 sighed deeply. 
 
 " Yes," answered Miss St Clair, in some agita- 
 tion, " I can conceive that you have felt much — 
 but I camiot conceive why — oh ! mama — what 
 had I done that you should have shook me from 
 you like a venomous reptile ?" 
 
 " My dear Gertrude ! what an idea ! that is the 
 mere coinage of your brain — How can you allow 
 yourself to be so carried away by your imagina- 
 tion ? Come, my dear, let us have no more such 
 foolish fancies. Strange, indeed, it would be'' — 
 continued she, as the park gate was thrown open 
 to receive them — '^ in any one to cast off like a 
 reptile the fair heiress of this princely domain." 
 
 But however strange, her daughter felt it was 
 so, and she remained silent. ]Mrs St Clair re 
 sumed. 
 
 " Apropos, Gertrude, when you are lady of 
 Rossville, you must build me a little tiny cottage 
 on yon lovely green bank, where I may live quiet- 
 ly as a humble cottager, while you play the great 
 lady : — Come, promise me, Gertrude, that I shall 
 have a croft from you — a butt and a ben — a cow's 
 grass and a kail-yard."
 
 134 THK INHERITAKCE. 
 
 There was something so forced and unnatural 
 in her mother's sudden gaiety, that Miss St Clair, 
 accustomed as she was to all the inequalities of 
 her temper, felt almost frightened at it, and she 
 was at a loss how to reply. 
 
 " So you won'^t promise me, Gertrude, even a 
 humble independence for my old age ? — Perhaps 
 you are right to be cautious — Lear's daughters 
 spoke him fair, and after all turned him out of 
 doors^ and why should I expect more from you ?" 
 
 " Oh mama !"" exclaimed Miss St Clair, burst- 
 ing into tears, " do not kill me with such cruel 
 words."" 
 
 " Is it so cruel, then, in a mother to crave a 
 pittance from the bounty of her child ?" 
 
 " It is cruel to doubt that I would give you all 
 — yes, were all this mine to-morrow, I could not 
 be more mistress of it than you should be." 
 
 " So you think at present, Gertrude, but you 
 know not as I do the mutability of the human 
 mind. YouwiU form other ties — other connections 
 — you will marry, and your mother will be forgot- 
 ten — perhaps forsaken — you will marry,'" cried 
 she with increased violence, " you will marry, and 
 I shall be left to starve — you will fall a prey to
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 135 
 
 the artifices of a Colonel Debnour— a needy, des- 
 perate spendthrift. I see already he is paying 
 court to the future heiress, and, once the wife of 
 that designing extravagant man, you will have no- 
 thing to bestow." 
 
 Shocked and amazed at her mother's violence. 
 Miss St Clair sought to tranquillize her by assur- 
 ances, that she was mistaken in supposing Colo- 
 nel Delmour had any such views, when Mrs St 
 Clair interrupted her — " Promise me, then, that 
 you will never become his wife.'' 
 
 There is always something revolting to an 
 open ingenuous mind in being fettered by pro- 
 mises ; but there was something more than even 
 that natural repugnance, to make Gertrude shrink 
 from thus binding herself to her mother's will, 
 and she remained silent ; but the deep blush that 
 burned on her cheek spoke more eloquently than 
 words. Mrs St Clair regarded her with a pierc- 
 ing look — then exclaimed, in a transport of anger, 
 " And is it even so — and all that I have done, 
 
 and suffered, is *' then, suddenly stopping, 
 
 she added, in a milder tone, — " Gertrude, my 
 wish is to save you from the dangers with which 
 you are already surrounded — promise me, at
 
 1S6 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 least, that you will not marry until you have at- 
 tained the age of twenty-one — that you will never 
 marry without my consent, and until you have 
 provided for my old age." 
 
 " Mama," said Miss St Clair, with a calmness 
 and self-possession which bespoke her determina- 
 tion, " I here promise that I will not marry, with- 
 out your consent, before the age of twenty-one, 
 and until I have provided for you as becomes my^ 
 mother — more I cannot — I dare not — I will not 
 promise." 
 
 " Then with that I must be satisfied," said 
 Mrs St Clair, as the carriage stopped at the Cas- 
 tle door ; and having alighted, she entered the 
 house, whife her daughter stood some minutes on 
 the lawn, inhaling the mild freshness of a west 
 wind, laden with the balmy sweets of opening buds 
 and blossoms. Insensibly she strolled on ; and 
 gradually the impression of the unpleasant scene 
 she had just had with her mother, wore away be- 
 neath the calming influence of nature's charms 
 — the clear cloudless sky — the lulling flow of the 
 river — the bright green woods in all the luxuri- 
 ance of early summer. 
 
 Miss St Clair wandered on till she reached
 
 CHAPTER XITI. 137 
 
 a little secluded spot she had not yet seen. On 
 the top of a green knoll that rose gradually from 
 the river, stood part of an ancient building of an 
 irregular and picturesque form, but now almost 
 covered with ivy. Some wild cherr)", or what, in 
 the language of the country, are called geen trees, 
 grew almost close to it ; — they were now white 
 with blossoms, and formed a fanciful contrast to 
 the emblems of age and decay with which they 
 were combined. The ground betwixt the river 
 and the ruin appeared to have been originally a 
 garden, or orchard ; and some old apple trees stiU 
 remained, whose mossy trunks, and shrivelled 
 branches, bore evidence of their antiquity, while 
 here and there a cluster of rich pink blossoms 
 showed that 
 
 ^' Life was in the leaf, for still, between 
 The fits of falling snowj appear'd the streaky green." 
 
 Some aged weeping willows dipt their silver}' fo- 
 liage in the dark waters, as they glided slowly and 
 silently along. It was a scene where the contem- 
 plative mind might have mused over the mournful 
 record of time, and things, and people, past and
 
 138 THE IlCHtUlTAXCi:. 
 
 gone, with their joys and their sorrows,-~where the 
 youthful imagination might have pictured to it- 
 self some ideal paradise yet to be realized. 
 
 •' Ah !" thought Gertrude, " how willingly 
 would I renounce all the pomp of greatness, to 
 dwell here in lowly affection with one who would 
 love me, and whom I could love in return ! How 
 strange that I, v/ho could cherish the very worm 
 that crawls beneath my foot, have no one being 
 to whom I can utter the thoughts of my heart — 
 no one on whom I can bestow its best affections !" 
 She raised her eyes, swimming in tears, to hea- 
 ven, but it was in the poetical enthusiasm of feel- 
 ing, not in the calm spirit of devotion. She was 
 suddenly roused by hearing some one approach, 
 and presently Colonel Deimour, forcing his way 
 through some wild tangled bushes, hastened to- 
 wards her with an appearance of the greatest de- 
 light. At sight of him, the thoughts of her mo- 
 ther's warning rushed to her recollection, the dis- 
 like she had expressed — the suspicions she har- 
 boured — the promise she would have exacted — all 
 seemed to give him a sort of inexplicable interest 
 in her eyes. She coloured deeply, and the con-
 
 CHAPTER XTII. 139 
 
 sciousness she had done so added to her coiifli- 
 sion. 
 
 " I have to apologize to you,'' said Colonel 
 Delmour, " for thus literally forcing my way to 
 you. Lyndsay and I were practising archery 
 when I descried you ; to see you, and not to fly 
 to you, was impossible, had Briareus himself op- 
 posed my passage ; so, lea\'ing Edward master of 
 the field, I winged my way to you like one of my 
 own arrows — but I fear I startled you ?'' 
 
 Miss St Clair felt as though she were acting in 
 direct disobedience to her mother, in thus meet- 
 ing, even accidentally, with the man she had just 
 heard denounced by her. In great embarrassment 
 she begged he would resume his exercise, and she 
 was moving away, when Colonel Delmour caught 
 her hand, and in a lone tone said, 
 
 " Do not stir from hence, unless you wish to 
 encounter ]\Iiss Pratt's observations ; she is beat- 
 ing about here ; I saw her as I came along, but I 
 trust she will lose scent ; do remain till that dan- 
 ger is past/' 
 
 Almost equally averse to encounter Miss Pratt 
 at any time, but more particularly at present, she 
 suffered Colonel Delmour to seat her on a little
 
 140 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 mossy knoll, and throwing himself on the grass at 
 her feet — 
 
 " Be this your throne, and behold your sub- 
 ject," said he in a half serious half sportive tone ; 
 then raising his eyes to hers, he repeated, 
 
 " Le premier jour qu'on aime on se plait en secret 
 A mettre au rang des rois Tobjet que Ton adore ; 
 Et s'il etoit uu rang plus eclatant encore 
 Ce seroit la celui quele coeur choiseroit." 
 
 Miss St Clair tried to reply in a strain of badin- 
 age ^ but the words died on her lips, and colour- 
 ing still more deeply, she remained silent. At 
 that moment Mr Lyndsay appeared, but ere he 
 had time to address her, the shrill voice of Miss 
 Pratt was heard, and presently she broke in. 
 
 " Ah, ha ! so you're all here ! — Upon my word, 
 here's a meeting of friends. It puts me in mind of 
 a scene in a play, where all the lovers meet to run 
 away with pretty Mistress Anne Page, and the 
 one cries mum, and the other cries budget.'"* 
 
 " Two excellent words," said Colonel Delmour, 
 looking nluch provoked ; ''of course y\)\i under- 
 stand their meaning — be silent and begone." 
 
 " Two very impertinent words, in my opinion," 
 said Miss Pratt, seating herself beside Gertrude ;
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 14-1 
 
 " and, to tell you the truth, I've no great notion 
 of your mums. — There'^s a family in this county 
 aU so tongue-tied, that Anthony Whyte caUs 
 their house the Mummery — and by the bye, Mr 
 Edward, I really think you may cry mum any 
 day, you re grown very silent of late." 
 
 " A proof I am growing wiser, I suppose,'" an- 
 swered he, laughingly, " according to some great 
 authority, who, I think, says most men speak 
 from not knowing how to be silent."*' 
 
 " The saying of some dull blockhead, I sus- 
 pect," said Colonel Delmour, still evidently out 
 of humour. 
 
 " Indeed, I think so too. Colonel," cried Miss 
 Pratt ; " any body can hold their tongue, but it's 
 not every body that can speak." 
 
 " Not every body that ought to speak, or, at 
 least, ought to be listened to," said Colonel Del- 
 mour, contemptuously turning from her, and ad- 
 dressing some words in French in a low tone to 
 Gertrude, while Miss Pratt gabbled on- — 
 
 " Bless me ! what a tear I've got in my gown ! 
 there's really an ill luck attends this gown — I 
 never have it on without its meeting with some 
 accident — that's all I've got by hunting after you
 
 14?2 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 youngsters ;" and in the twinkling of an eye, her 
 huswife was out — her thimble on her finger, and 
 her needle flying through all the intricacies of a 
 very bad cross tear. 
 
 " What's this we were talldng about ? O ! about 
 people holding their tongues — I really wish these 
 birds would hold theirs, for I'm perfectly dieved 
 with their chattering sli, sh," shaking her para- 
 sol at a goldfinch. " I really think young people 
 should be made to hold their tongues, and only 
 speak when they're spoken to — Was that a fish 
 that leapt in the water just now ? — what a pity 
 but one of you had had a fishing-rod in your 
 hands instead of these senseless bows and arrows 
 — it would have been some diversion to have 
 seen you hook a nice three pound weight caller 
 trout : — and really old people should be cautious 
 of speaking — they're sometimes rather slow, you 
 know — not but what I can listen to any body. — 
 Bless me ! how the wind's blowing these blossoms 
 about — I'm like to be blinded with them." 
 
 " Come, you shall listen to me then," said Mr 
 Lyndsay, as he caught some of the falling blos- 
 soms, '^ while I apostrophize them in some pretty 
 lines of Herrick's.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 143 
 
 TO BLOSSOMS. 
 
 Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, 
 Why do you fall so fast ? 
 Your date is not so past ; 
 But you may stay here yet a while. 
 To blush and gently smile ; 
 And go at last. 
 
 What were ye born to be, 
 An hour or half's delight. 
 And so to bid good night ? 
 'Twas pity nature brought ye forth, 
 Merely to show your worth. 
 And lose you quite. 
 
 But you are lovely leaves, where we 
 May read how soon things have 
 Their end, though ne'er so brave ; 
 And after they have shown their pride 
 Like you a while, they glide 
 Into the grave. 
 
 Miss Pratt testified great impatience while the 
 verses were repeating ; but the purpose was an- 
 swered — the time was passed while the fracture 
 was repairing — and afraid of more poetry, for 
 which she had a mortal antipathy, she readily 
 assented to Miss St Clair's proposal of returning 
 home. 
 
 " I can tell you one thing, my dear,'' whisper-
 
 144 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ed she to Gertrude, " that mum should be the 
 watch-word hereto-day; — a certain person,'' with a 
 wink at Colonel Delmour, " is but a younger 
 brother, and not the thing. He can be very pleas- 
 ant when he pleases ; but take my word for it he's 
 not to ride the ford upon : — but, bless me, I had 
 no notion it was so late, and I've a bit of lace to 
 run upon my gown before dinner !" — and away 
 ran Miss Pratt to her toilette, while Gertrude re- 
 tired to her chamber, to ruminate on the events 
 of the day.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Keep, therefore, a true woman's eye, 
 And love me still, but know not why ; 
 So hast thou the same reason still 
 
 To doat upon me ever. 
 
 Old Madrigal. 
 
 That " she who deliberates is lost,"' is a re- 
 mark that has been so often verified, that al- 
 though there are innumerable instances of women 
 dehberating to be saved, yet when a lover sus- 
 pects the object of his wishes to be debating the 
 question of — to love or not to love — he feels pret- 
 ty secure that it will be decided in his favour. 
 At least so felt Colonel Delmour, as he marked 
 the thoughtful cast of Miss St Clair's counte- 
 nance when she entered the drawing-room before 
 dinner. She had, indeed, that day deliberated 
 more than she had ever done in the whole course 
 of her life before, though her deliberations had not 
 yet assumed any distinct form. By nature tender 
 
 VOL. r. K
 
 146 THE INHETIITAXCE. 
 
 and affectionate in her disposition, she was like- 
 wise high-spirited and impatient of unjust con- 
 trol ; and the situation in which she was now 
 placed was calculated to call forth all the latent 
 energies of her character. "II y a quelquefois 
 dans le cours de la vie, de si chers plaisirs et de 
 si tendres engagements que Ton nous defend, 
 qu^il est naturel de desirer du moins qu'ils fussent 
 permis." 
 
 Miss St Clair certainly could not help wishing 
 that she had not been forbidden to love her cou- 
 sin ; for, although he had not absolutely declared 
 himself her lover, he had said more than enough 
 to convince her that he was deeply in love, and 
 that the happiness of his life hung upon her de- 
 cision. When she thought of her mother's pre- 
 judice against him, so unjust, so unaccountable, it 
 seemed next to impossible for her to remain in a 
 state of indecision. She must either adopt her 
 mother's sentiments, and hate, fly, abjure him ; 
 or she must yield to her own inclinations, and lis- 
 ten to him — look on him, and love him. In this 
 state of mental embarrassment, it was impossible 
 for any one so ingenuous to conceal what was 
 passing in her mind. But those who were most
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 147 
 
 interested in observing iier construed her beha- 
 viour, each according to their own wishes. In 
 her constrained manner and averted eyes, when- 
 ever Colonel Delmour addressed her, ]\Irs St 
 Clair flattered herself she saw symptoms of that 
 distrust and dislike she had endeavoured to incul- 
 cate ; while he for the present felt satisfied in the 
 consciousness that he was, at least, not an object 
 of indifference. 
 
 But it was impossible for any ruminations to 
 be carried on long in the presence of ?>liss Pratt, 
 whose own ruminations never lasted longer than 
 till she had made herself mistress of the dresses of 
 the company, or the dishes on the table. Having 
 finished her scrutiny of the former, she addressed 
 Mrs St Clair : 
 
 " You were very soon home to-day I think ; 
 you must really have paid fashionable visits to 
 your friends — to be sure, your sister's is not a house 
 to stay long in — Poor Miss Mary, what a pretty 
 creature she was once, and as merry as a grig — 
 but she has taken rather a religious turn now — 
 to be sure, when people have not the use of their 
 legs, what can they do ? — I'm sure we should be 
 thankful that have all our faculties."
 
 148 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " Except the faculty of being religious," said 
 Mr Lyndsay with a smile. 
 
 "A certain degree of religion I think extremely 
 proper," said Miss Pratt in a by-way-of serious 
 manner ; — " but I'm just afraid it's rather over- 
 done — not that I mean to say any thing against 
 the Miss Blacks, for I assure you I have a very 
 high respect for them ; — and old Mr Ramsay ! 
 how did you find him ? — in a tolerable tune I 
 hope ?" 
 
 " I was afraid of trespassing too far on Lord 
 Rossville's goodness, by detaining his carriage and 
 servants, and therefore delayed visiting my uncle 
 till another opportunity." 
 
 " That was being extremely considerate, in- 
 deed," began his Lordship, but, as usual, was cut 
 short by Miss Pratt. 
 
 " Bless me ! whaf s the use of carriages and 
 servants but to wait ? If you had played your cards 
 well, you would have gone first to your uncle — an 
 old man in a night-cap, worth good seventy thou- 
 sand pound, and as cross as two sticks, is not to 
 be sneezed at, as Anthony Whyte says; but 
 there's the gong — O Lord Rossville, I wish you 
 would really get a bell, for I declare there's no
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 149 
 
 hearing one's self speak for that gong — or what 
 would you think of a trumpet ? Bells and gongs 
 are grown so common, that Anthony Whyte's go- 
 ing to get a trumpet." 
 
 " Being abeady provided with a trumpeter, it 
 is quite proper that Mr Whyte should have a 
 trumpet," said Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " Considering with what deadly intentions we 
 assemble at the dinner-table," said ]\Ir Lyndsay, 
 " I really think a warlike instrument a much 
 more appropriate symbol than a peaceful, fasting, 
 matin-sounding bell — indeed, the organ of de- 
 structiveness is always so strong with me at this 
 hour, and I feel so much of the fee, fa, fum, about 
 me, that I can scarcely ask you to trust yourself 
 with me," and he good humouredly gave his arm 
 to Miss Pratt, as she was pattering away to the 
 dining-room, with rather a discomfited look, by 
 herself; " and now for the pride, pomp, and cir- 
 cumstance of glorious war," — as the party seated 
 themselves at the splendid board. But Miss 
 Pratt's mortification never could be made by any 
 possible means to endure much longer than the 
 shock of a shower-bath — and by the time the 
 dishes were uncovered, Richard was himself again.
 
 150 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " Colonel Delmour, whaf s that before you ? — 
 I think it looks like fricasseed chicken — I'll thank 
 you for some of it ;'** and Colonel Delmour, with 
 the most indifferent air as to Miss Pratt's wants, 
 and talking all the v/hile to Miss St Clair, sent 
 her a part which did not suit her taste. 
 
 " Just take that back,'' said she to the servant ; 
 " with my compliments to Colonel Dehnour, and 
 I'll be obliged to him for a v/ing — Colonel, don't 
 you know it's the fashion now, v/hen you help 
 game or poultry, to ask — Pray do you run or fly ? 
 meaning do you choose leg or wing. There was a 
 good scene at Anthony Whyte's, one day fat 
 Lady Puffendorf was there — you know she's so 
 asthmatic she can hardly walk, so when she chose 
 chicken, pray, Ma'am, says Anthony, do you run 
 or fly ? Of course a fine titter ran round the com- 
 pany. Lord Rossville, did you hear that ? Co- 
 lonel Delmour, remember I fly." 
 
 " I shall have great pleasure in assisting your 
 flight," said he with an ironical smile ; " pray, 
 when may we expect to see Miss Pratt take 
 wing .?" 
 
 " Is that, that you may have a shot at me with 
 your bow and arrow ? I thought, indeed, you
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 151 
 
 looked as if you were rather bent upon wounding 
 hearts than harts to-day — you understand the 
 difference, don't you, Miss St Clair P'"* who only 
 coloured a reply, and even Colonel Delmour 
 seemed disconcerted. *' Well, never mind, mum's 
 the word, you know,'' with a provoking wink ; 
 *' only, I advise all young ladies who value their 
 hearts to cry budget to gentlemen with bows and 
 arrows.'' Lord Rossville's ideas, fortunately, 
 never could keep pace with Miss Pratt'^s tongue 
 — he had now only overtaken her at the '' run 
 and fly," and was busy preparing, with all the 
 powers of his mind, a caveat against the use of 
 cant terms — to begin with a quotation from Lord 
 Chesterfield, and to be followed up by a full de- 
 claration of his own sentiments on the subject. In 
 short, his mode of proceeding was something like 
 bringing out a field-piece to knock down a fly, 
 which, in the meantime, had perched itself on the 
 very mouth of the cannon, unconscious of the for- 
 midable artillery that was preparing against her, 
 then buzzed away. 
 
 " Let me help you to some asparagus, my 
 Lord .^" helping herself largely in the meantime; 
 ^' ver)- fine it is, though rather out of season now —
 
 152 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 it has been long over at Whyte Hall. But who 
 can help asparagus with asparagus-tongs ? An- 
 thony AVhyte says, if ever he's prevailed upon to 
 go into Parliament, it will be for the sole purpose 
 of bringing in three bills for the relief of the rich. 
 One of them is to be an act for the suppression of 
 asparagus-tongs; another is to make it felony 
 for a cook to twist the legs of game, or force a 
 turkey to carry its head under its wing ; and a 
 
 third is '" 
 
 But here Lord Rossville's indignation got the 
 better of his good-breeding, and even overcame 
 the more tardy operations of his mind ; and be- 
 fore Anthony Whyte's third bill could be brought 
 forward, he exclaimed, *' Mr Anthony Whyte 
 bring bills into ParHament ! — Pray, Miss Pratt, 
 have you any authority for supposing or insinu- 
 ating, that Mr Whyte has the most distant sha- 
 dow of an idea of attempting to procure a seat in 
 Parliament ? — If he has, I can only say I have 
 been most grossly misinformed — if he has not, 
 it is highly improper in you, or in any of his re- 
 lations or friends, who the world will naturally 
 conclude are in his confidence, to start such a 
 supposition ; — it is a serious, a very serious mat- 
 ter to tamper with a gentleman's name in politics.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 153 
 
 more particularly in the troublesome and factious 
 times in which we live.'' Even Miss Pratt was 
 for an instant discomfited by the solemn indig- 
 nation of this address ; but she quickly rallied, 
 and whispering to Mr Lyndsay, " He's, very bi- 
 lious to-day, his eyes are like boiled gooseberries, 
 honest man !" She resumed, " Bless me. Lord 
 RossviUe, one would think I had spoken high 
 treason, but I was only joking ; Mr Whyte, I can 
 assure you, has too much good sense to think of 
 going into Parliament ; if he had had a mind 
 that way he might have been in long ago ; I'm 
 told, from pretty good authority, he might carry 
 the county any day he liked." 
 
 Here the Earl absolutely gasped in the at- 
 tempt to bring up words long and strong enough 
 to immolate the presumption of Miss Pratt and 
 Anthony Whyte. " I can assure you, both 
 Lord Punmedown and Sir Thomas Turnabout 
 spoke seriously to Mr AVhyte about it some time 
 ago — ' Anthony,' says my Lord, ' if you wish to 
 sit, you've only to stand.' Nothing could be strong- 
 er than that, you know. ' Faith, my Lord,' says 
 he, ' I believe I would have to lie in the first 
 place.' Very good, wasn't it ? Anthony's always 
 
 4
 
 154 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ready with his answer ; I assure you, if he was in 
 Parliament he would keep his own." 
 
 "Is there any body talked of in opposition to 
 Robert .^'" asked Colonel Delniour, as if he had 
 not even deigned to hear Miss Pratt — '' apropos 
 — I had a letter from him this morning."" 
 
 " Indeed !'" exclaimed the Earl with great ear- 
 nestness. "I am rather surprised that such a 
 piece of information should have been only com- 
 municated to me in this accidental manner — I 
 have been anxiously looking for letters from Mr 
 Delmour for some days — ^what does he say with 
 regard to the sitting of Parliament, and does he 
 point at any probable time for coming north .?" 
 
 " I merely glanced at his letter," answered 
 Colonel Delmour, with an air of indifference ; " it 
 seemed filled as usual with politics, and I am no 
 politician." 
 
 '' I am not so sure about that," said Miss Pratt 
 in an under tone, and with a most provoking sig- 
 nificant look. " But you shall hear what he 
 gays — Smith," turning to his servant, " you will 
 find some letters upon the writing-table in my 
 dressing-room, bring them here." 
 
 " I hope you don't leave your love-letters lying
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 155 
 
 about that way, Colonel ?'" cried the incorrigible 
 Pratt. " I assure you, if I was a young lady, I 
 would take care how I corresponded with you — 
 you're not like Anthony Whyte, who keeps all 
 his letters like grim death." 
 
 The letters were brought, and Colonel Delmour, 
 taking his brother's from amongst them, glanced 
 his eye over it, and read in a skimming manner — 
 '' Animated and protracted debate — admirable 
 speech — legs two hours and a quarter — immense 
 applause — 197 of majority — glorious result — 
 opposition fairly discomfited,'' &c. &c. ; he then 
 read aloud — 
 
 " Pray, inform the Earl there is no longer a 
 doubt as to the dissolution of Parliament next 
 session, we must therefore prepare to take the 
 field immediately. Lord P. and Sir J. T. intend 
 to oppose us I understand, and to bring forward 
 some tool of their own, but I have little fear as 
 to the result. I now only wait the passing of the 
 road bill, and the discussion on the resumption 
 of cash payments, to be off for Scotland ; my un- 
 cle may, therefore, expect me in the course of a 
 few days, when I trust we shall be able to make a 
 tolerable muster. P. S. — I see a ]Major Waddcll 
 
 8
 
 156 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 has lodged claim for enrolment, do you know any 
 thing of him ?" 
 
 " Major Waddell .'" repeated the Earl, putting 
 his hand to his forehead in a musing attitude, as 
 if endeavouring to recollect him. 
 
 " Major Wkddell," said Mrs St Clair, in her 
 softest manner, " is a gentleman of large fortune, 
 lately returned from India — heir, I understand, 
 to Sir William Waddell, and upon the point 
 of marriage with a niece of mine — his vote, I 
 am sure — — ^' Luckily, before Mrs St Clair 
 could commit herself and Major WaddelFs vote. 
 Miss Pratt dashed in — " Aye ! Miss Bell Black 
 going to be married to Major Waddell ! 'Pon 
 my word, she has fallen upon her feet — that will 
 be a disappointment to many a one ; for I assure 
 you the ^lajor's a prize ; and I know three 
 ladies he was supposed to be looking after — he 
 even went so far as to present one of them with a 
 very handsome Paradise plume — thai I know to 
 be a fact, for I was staying in the house at the 
 time, and there was a great debate whether she 
 should have accepted it before he had made his 
 proposals. — Aye ! I was told that Miss Bell had 
 said lately in a company, that she never would
 
 CHAPTF.R XIV. 157 
 
 marry any man who couldn't give her silver tu- 
 reens and corners — He's very well connected too 
 — Let me see, his mother was a Bog, and his 
 father a Waddell of the Waddell Mains family 
 — so he has good blood both ways."" 
 
 All this was very agreeable to Mrs St Clair — 
 it was gi^^ng consequence to her family, which 
 was an advantage to herself. Miss Pratt's prib- 
 ble prabble was, therefore, music to her ear, and 
 while she gave her whole attention to that. Colo- 
 nel Delmour contrived to render his conversotion, 
 no less interesting to her daughter, whose delibe- 
 rations, like Othello's doubts, were gradually as- 
 suming a more decided form. For in love, as in 
 jealousy, it will commonly be found, that '* to be 
 once in doubt is once to be resolved." 
 
 As the ladies rose from table. Lord Ross^ille, 
 who had evidently been struggling for some time 
 to give utterance to some exquisite idea, called 
 Miss Pratt, just as she had reached the door : — 
 they all stopped. 
 
 " Miss Pratt," said his Lordship, making an 
 effort to subdue any appearance of risibility, " Miss 
 Pratt, I think your friend who received the pre- 
 sent of a plume from Major Waddell will have
 
 158 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 110 great cause to plume herself upon that — as, 
 from your account, it can no longer be a feather 
 in her cap." 
 
 The Earl was too much elated with this sally 
 to think of Lord Chesterfield, and he indidged 
 himself in a laugh tolerably loud and intolerably 
 long. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha I very good, indeed !" cried 
 Miss Pratt. " I must let Anthony Whyte and 
 Lord Punmedown hear that — very well, indeed ! 
 — Poor Miss Kitty Fansyflame, as you say, it 
 will be no great feather in her cap now, poor 
 soul ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Lady Betty, did you hear 
 that .?"" then pinching Gertrude^s arm, she whis- 
 pered, " As Anthony Whyte says, it's a serious 
 matter when Lord Rossville makes a joke — hon- 
 est man — ha ! ha ! ha ! — very fair, indeed." And 
 Miss Pratt kept up a running laugh all the way 
 to the drawing-room.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The pilot best of winds does talk. 
 The peasant of his cattle, 
 The shepherd of his fleecy flock. 
 The soldier of his battle. 
 
 Ariosto. 
 
 The expected dissolution of Parliament was 
 all in favour of the growing attachment of the 
 cousins. Gertrude, indeed, tried, or thought she 
 tried, to avoid receiving the attentions of Colonel 
 Delmour; but in the thousand minute, and al- 
 most imperceptible opportunities which are for 
 ever occurring where people dwell under the same 
 roof, he found many occasions of insinuating the 
 ardour and sincerity of his passion, yet in a man- 
 ner so refined and unobtrusive, that it would have 
 seemed downright prudery to have disclaimed his 
 attentions. 
 
 Lord Rossville was — or, what was the same 
 thing, fancied he was, so overwhelmed with busi-
 
 160 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ness, that, contrary to his usual practice, he now 
 always retired immediately after tea to his study, 
 there to con over the map and count over the 
 roll of the county, and to frame the model of a 
 circular letter, which was to surpass all the circu- 
 lar letters that ever had issued from a circular 
 head. 
 
 Mrs St Clair was busy too — she had begun to 
 canvass with her brother and her uncle, to be- 
 speak their votes, and had written to offer a visit 
 to the latter the following day, by the EarFs de- 
 sire. Lady Betty sat, as usual, at her little ta- 
 ble, with her rug, her novel, and her fat favourite. 
 Miss Pratt gabbled and knotted. Mr Lyndsay 
 read. Colonel Delmour and Gertrude, alone, 
 seemed unoccupied, but " how various their em- 
 ployments whom the world deems idle.*" — '' You 
 are in an uncommon quiescent state to-night, 
 Delmour," said Mr Lyndsay, closing his book 
 and rising — " Neither music, nor billiards, nor 
 ennui — most wonderfiil !"" 
 
 " Etre avec les gens qu'on aime, cela suffit ; 
 rever,leur parler, ne leur parler point, aupres d'eux 
 tout est egal," replied he, casting a look towards
 
 CHAPTER XV. 161 
 
 Gertrude, but affecting to address Miss Pratt — 
 " Is it not so, Miss Pratt ?'' 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Colonel," answered 
 she with some asperity, '• when people speak 
 French to me, I always lay it down as a rule, that 
 they're speaking nonsense — I'm sure there's words 
 enough in plain English to say all that any body 
 has to say.*' 
 
 " Ah ! but they are too plain — that is precise- 
 ly my objection to them, for you, I am sure, are 
 aware,'' and again he stole a glance at Miss St 
 Clair, " ' combien de choses qu'on n'apercoit que 
 par sentiment, et dont il est impossible de rendre 
 raison !' now, the French is the language of sen- 
 timent — the English of reason — consequently it 
 is most unreasonable in you, my dear ^liss Pratt, 
 to insist upon my expressing my sentiments in a 
 plain reasonable manner — but come, since you 
 profess to be insensible to sentiment — try whether 
 you cannot prevail upon Miss St Clair to give us 
 some music." 
 
 " Music !" reiterated Miss Pratt ; " fiddle- 
 sticks ! for any sake, let us have one night of peace 
 and rest — for I declare Lord Rossville makes a 
 perfect toil of music — but, indeed, it's the same 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 162 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 every where now — there's not a house you go m- 
 to but some of the family are musical. I know 
 one family where there's five grown up daughters 
 that all play upon the harp, and such a tuning, and 
 stringing, and thrumming, goes on, that I de- 
 clare I get perfectly stupid. Not only that, but, 
 as Anthony Whyte says, you used to be aware of 
 your danger when you saw a piano or a fiddle in a 
 house ; but now you have music in all shapes, and 
 such contrivances ! — there's musical glasses, and 
 musical clocks, and musical snuff-boxes, and now 
 they've got musical work-boxes. — The t'other day, 
 when I was at Lady RestalPs, I happened to want 
 a thread in a hurry, and was flying to her work- 
 box for it — Stop, stop, says she, and I'll give you 
 something better than a thread ; so she locks up 
 her box and sets it a-going, and, to be sure, I 
 thought it never would have done — tune after 
 tune — and isn't that a lovely waltz, says she, and 
 isn't that a sweet quadrille ! — Thinks I, my friend, 
 if you was mine, I would soon stop your mouth, 
 and make you mind your own business." 
 
 " But I hope you got your thread ?''"' inquired 
 Lady Betty. 
 
 " Yes, yes, I got my thread at last, but isn't
 
 CHAPTER XV. 163 
 
 it a hard case that one can't get a black silk 
 thread, if it was to save their life, without get- 
 ting half a dozen tunes into the bargain ? But 
 that's not the most ridiculous part ; for, says she, 
 I've commissioned a walking-cane for my Lord 
 from Paris, (you know Lord Restall can't walk 
 the length of his toe without a stick,) and it is to 
 play three waltzes, two quadrilles, a hornpipe, 
 and the Grand Turk's March — it will be such an 
 amusement, says she, when he's walking with his 
 friends, to set his stick a-going. — Thinks I, he'll 
 be clever if ever he sets it a-going about my ears. 
 Miss St Clair, my dear, have you no nice, nacky, 
 little handy work, that you could be doing at, 
 while we sit and chat .^" 
 
 " That is a proper reproof for my idleness," 
 said Gertrude, rising to fetch her work. 
 
 '' How I detest the stupid vulgar industry of 
 working ladies," said Colonel Delmour ; " come, 
 let me lead you to the music-room," and he took 
 her hand. 
 
 " What are you going to play .''" asked Lady 
 Betty. 
 
 ^' Tibbie Fowler," answered Miss Pratt. — 
 " Miss St Clair, my dear, did you ever hear Tib-
 
 164 THE INHERIT ANCE. 
 
 bie Fowler ?" and, in her cracked voice, she 
 struck up that celebrated ditty. Colonel Del- 
 mour, with an expression of disgust, immediately 
 hurried Miss St Clair to the adjoining room, 
 leaving Miss Pratt to carol away to Lady Betty 
 and fat Flora. 
 
 IVIuch has been said of the power of music ; 
 and all who have ears and souls will admit that 
 its influence has not been exaggerated even by its 
 most enthusiastic votaries. In every heart of 
 sensibility nature has implanted a chord which, if 
 rightly touched, will yield fine issue, whether to 
 the loftier or the gentler passions of the mind 
 — whether that chord vibrates responsive to the 
 pealing organ — the spirit-stirring drum, or the 
 nightingale's soft lay. Some there are, indeed, 
 to whom music is merely a science, an assemblage 
 of fine concords and discords ; and who, possess- 
 ed of all that skill and knowledge can impart, 
 are yet strangers to those '* mystic transports,*" 
 whose movements are in the soul, and which con- 
 stitute the true charm of melody. But Colonel 
 Delmour could not be said to belong to either of 
 those classes, or rather, he partook somewhat of 
 both ; he was passionately fond of music, and
 
 CHAPTER X\ . 165 
 
 sang with much taste and expression ; but, it 
 
 might be doubted whether his was 
 
 *^ le chant qui se sent dans Tame/' 
 
 Be that as it may, he had hitherto, in the various 
 
 flirtations in which he had been engaged, found 
 
 music a most useful auxihary, and by much the 
 
 safest, as well as the most elegant, medium for 
 
 communicating his passion. It was, therefore, 
 
 an invariable rule with Colonel Delmour to use 
 
 other men's verse, as well as other men's prose, 
 
 instead of his own. For similar reasons, he also 
 
 preferred declaring his pa>don either in French 
 
 or Italian ; and having read all the hghter works 
 
 in these languages, and being gifted with a good 
 
 memory and a ready wit, he was seldom at a loss 
 
 for expressions suited to each particular case. 
 
 The words he selected for the present occasion 
 
 were those beautiful ones, 
 
 " Felice chi vi mira 
 
 Ma piu felice chi per voi sospira/' &c. 
 
 when suddenly ]\Iiss Pratt burst in with '' Wisht, 
 wisht — there's somebody coming tjiat wiU make 
 us all change our note, Fm thinking ;" and while 
 she spoke, a spattered chaise-and-four, with horses 
 in a foam, drove up, which was recognized by its
 
 166 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 bearings to be that of j\Ir Debnour. All was 
 bustle and sensation, and the family, with the ex- 
 ception of Lord Rossville, had dropped in one by 
 one to the music-room, where Mr Delmour was 
 ushered in. He was what many would have call- 
 ed a very fine-looking man — tall and straight, 
 with handsome regular features, although some- 
 what resembling Lord Rossville both in person 
 and manners. He paid his compliments rather 
 with the well-bred formality of the old school 
 than with the easy disengaged air of a man of 
 fashion, and totally devoid of that air oiempresse- 
 ment towards Miss St Clair which had mark- 
 ed the attentions of his brother from their first 
 meeting. In fact, Mr Delmour seemed little en- 
 grossed with any of the party, but looked round 
 as if in search of a far more interesting object, 
 and then anxiously inquired where Lord Rossville 
 was. But ere an answer could be returned the 
 Earl himself entered, and mutual pleasure was 
 testified by the uncle and nephew at sight of each 
 other 
 
 " Although, upon ordinary occasions, I confess 
 I am no friend to what are termed unexpected 
 pleasures," said his Lordship ; " yet, in the pre-
 
 CHAPTER XV. 167 
 
 sent instance, my dear Robert, I own I do not 
 feel my pleasure at your arrival at all diminished 
 by the unexpectedness of your appearance. At 
 the same time, it would not have been amiss, per- 
 haps, to have apprised me of your intention at this 
 important time." 
 
 '* Impossible !" replied Mr Delmour eagerly ; 
 " quite impossible ! In fact, I set off the instant 
 the House rose, which was on Friday morning at 
 half past five, after a most interesting debate on 
 the Paper Currency, which, I am happy to tell 
 you, we carried by a majority of eighty-five." 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed the Earl. — " And our 
 Road Bill r 
 
 "Is passed — but how stands the county ? — 
 Have you felt its pulse at all ? — I understand a 
 brisk canvass has commenced in a certain quarter. 
 I got a hint of that from Lord Wishton, which, 
 in fact, induced me to set off without a moment's 
 delay." 
 
 " You acted wisely and well," said the Earl ; 
 " delays are always dangerous — more especially 
 upon occasions such as the present." 
 
 " It's high time you had begun to canvass, if 
 you expect to succeed in your election, I can teU 
 you," interposed Miss Pratt, with one of her
 
 168 THE INHEIllTAKCE. 
 
 sharp pithy glances at Colonel Delmour and 
 Gertrude, who kept a little apart ; and to judge 
 by the blush and the smile which occasionally 
 flitted over her beautiful features, as she some- 
 times bent her head to his whispers, the conver- 
 sation was of rather a more interesting nature 
 than what was carrying on between the uncle and 
 nephew. 
 
 Miss Pratt's remark did not hit either of them, 
 and the latter resumed — " I am told the oppo- 
 site party give out they can abeady reckon upon 
 twenty-nine votes — that, I suspect, is a ruse de 
 guerre ; but still it shows the necessity of our 
 taking the field immediately." 
 
 " Precisely my own sentiments !" exclaimed 
 Lord Rossville with dehght ; " as you justly ob- 
 serve, there is not a moment to lose." 
 
 " Something might yet be done to-night," said 
 Mr Delmour, looking at his watch. 
 
 " Something has been done already," replied 
 his Lordship, with an air of conscious importance; 
 " but it is now almost supper time, and you must 
 be much fatigued with your long and rapid 
 journey ; I must, therefore, vote for an adjourn- 
 ment."
 
 CHAPTEIl XV. 1G9 
 
 As the servant at that moment announced sup- 
 per, this was a very bright sally for the Earl, 
 though it did not produce all the effect he had 
 expected. 
 
 " Mr Delmour, you will conduct i\Iiss St Clair 
 to the supper room ;'" and Colonel Delmour, with 
 infinite reluctance, was obliged to relinquish her 
 hand to his brother. With no less unwillingness 
 did she bestow it, and her chagrin was not lessen- 
 ed at finding herself placed between the uncle and 
 nephew at supper, and condemned to hear, with- 
 out being able to listen to their conversation, 
 which now, in spite of Miss Pratt's desultory 
 gabble, continued to flow in the same political 
 channel. Gertrude heard, with weariness, the 
 whole preliminaries of ah active canvass fully dis- 
 cussed across her, and while her imagination yet 
 dwelt with delight on the melodious accents and 
 impassioned sentiments which had so lately been 
 poured into her ear, and found entrance to her 
 heart, she mentally exclaimed — " How impossi- 
 ble would it be ever to love a man who can only 
 talk of votes, seats, rolls, and qualifications !''
 
 170 
 
 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Certainly it is heaven upon earth to have a man's mind 
 move in charity, rest in Providence, and turn upon the poles of 
 truth. 
 
 Lord Baco.v. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of our member ?" 
 was Miss Pratt's first salutation to Gertrude, as 
 they met next morning in their way to breakfast 
 — then, without waiting a reply, " I thought you 
 looked very wearied last night, and no wonder, 
 for I declare my back was like to break with their 
 politics. — IVe a notion you don''t think he's likely 
 to be any great acquisition as a member of the 
 family, whatever he may be to the county — He ! 
 he ! he I — I must tell Anthony Whyte that, — he 
 will be so diverted ; — ^but come, my dear," taking 
 her arm, '' we're too soon for breakfast yet, so we 
 may just scent the morning air, as what do you 
 call the man's ghost says in the play — but you
 
 CHAPTER XVT. 171 
 
 should have somethmg on your head, you must 
 not get that pretty white skin of your's sun-burnt ; 
 but well not go farther than the Portico. — I look- 
 ed into the room as I passed, and there was no- 
 body there but Lord Rossville, sitting as usual 
 watching the tea-pot, hke a clocking-hen. It's a 
 great pity that he will make the tea himself. I de- 
 clare I'm like to choke sometimes before I can 
 get a drop, and, after all, it's really just water be- 
 witched. — It's a thousand pities, honest man! that 
 he will think he can do every thing better than 
 any body else. — But here comes Edward Lyndsay 
 from his walk. — I dare say he has been at some 
 good turn already. — Good morning, Mr Edward ; 
 where have you been strolUng to this fine morn- 
 ing .^ Miss St Clair and I are just taking a little 
 chat here, in the sun, till the breakfast's ready ; 
 for, as Anthony Whyte says, I don t hke to de- 
 scend to vacuity. — What do you think Miss St 
 Clair says of our member, that she does not think 
 him any great acquisition as a member of the fa- 
 mily, whatever he may be as member for the 
 county ; isn't that very good ?'"' 
 
 Gertrude was about to disclaim the witticism^ 
 when Mr Lyndsay saved her the trouble.
 
 172 THK i:nheiiitance. 
 
 " So good," replied he, " that I am surprised 
 you should give the credit of it to any body else. 
 — Miss St Clair, I am sure, is incapable of mak- 
 ing such a remark." 
 
 "Is that meant as a compliment to you or 
 me, my dear .^'' addressing Gertrude. — " But I 
 wish you would explain, Mr Edward, what makes 
 you think Miss St Clair incapable of saying 
 that r 
 
 " Because, as a physiognomist, I pronounce 
 Miss St Clair incapable of making so ill-natured 
 a remark upon one of whom she has as yet had no 
 opportunity of forming an opinion." 
 
 " And what do you call that remark of your 
 own, pray, Mr Edward .^" interrupted Miss Pratt, 
 with considerable pique ; "for my part, I think it 
 is as ill-natured a one as ever I heard." 
 
 " You wished to hear the truth," said he with 
 a smile ; "it is not my fault if it is not agree- 
 able." 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Mr Lyndsay, it's not 
 by speaking what you call the truth upon every 
 occasion, that people will ever make friends to 
 themselves in this world. I never knew any of 
 your plain-spoken people that didn't make twenty
 
 CHAPTTR XVr. 173 
 
 enemies for one friend. I know nobody that 
 likes to have what you call the truth told them ; 
 do you, my dear ?" — to Gertrude. 
 
 " Yes/' answered Gertrude, " I think I should 
 like to hear the truth from an amiable person ; 
 but the reason it is so disagreeable, I suppose, is, 
 because people are always so cross when they 
 speak what they call the truth, that it seems as 
 if they only used it as a cloak for their own ill 
 humour and caprice, and a thousand other dead- 
 ly sins." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure, if youVe a mind to hear the 
 truth, you could not be in better hands, my dear, 
 than your cousin's for it — But there's that abomi- 
 nable gong again— we must really fly, for Lord 
 Rossville will be out of all patience ;" and off pat- 
 tered Miss Pratt, leaving her companions to fol- 
 low her nimble steps. Nobody had yet appeared 
 at the breakfast-table but Lord Rossville and Mr 
 Delmour, who had resumed the subject of the 
 election with renewed vigour. Miss Pratt, seeing 
 his Lordship so engrossed, had seized upon the 
 tea-pot, and was enjoying the luxury of filling 
 her cup by stealth. Mr Lyndsay seated himself
 
 1T4? THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 by Gertrude ; it was the place Colonel Delmour 
 usually occupied, and she looked a little disap- 
 pointed at seeing it filled by another— he did 
 not appear to notice it, but continued the conver- 
 sation — 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you in what you were 
 saying, of the use or abuse of truth,"' said he ; 
 " but even that is not so dangerous as the delu- 
 sions of falsehood and flattery, commonly called 
 politeness and admiration.'"* 
 
 " These are hard words to give to very agree- 
 able things,'' answered Gertrude. 
 
 " My quarrel is not with the things themselves," 
 said he, " but with their counterfeits." 
 
 " Yet, if every one were to tell another exactly 
 what they thought of them, I dare say we should 
 be all scratching each other's eyes out." 
 
 " Not if ours was the charity that thinketh 
 no evil." 
 
 " Oh ! that is to say, if we were all angels." 
 
 " No, it is to say, if we were all Christians." 
 
 Gertrude stared with some surprise, for her idea 
 
 of a Christian, like that of many other people's, 
 
 was, that all were Christians who were born in 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 175 
 
 Christendom, had been baptized, learnt their 
 creeds, and went now and then to church. 
 
 " I Hatter myself I am a Christian," said she ; 
 " and yet I cannot help thinking there are peo- 
 ple in the world who are very tiresome, very im- 
 pertinent, and very disagreeable ; yet, I don't 
 think it would be a very Christian act were I to 
 toU them so." 
 
 " Certainly not,'' answered ]Mr Lyndsay, with 
 a smile ; " you may think them all those things ; 
 but if you think of them, at the same time, in the 
 spirit of kindness and Christian benevolence, you 
 will pity their infirmities, and you will have no 
 inclination to hurt their feelings, by telling them 
 of faults which you cannot mend." 
 
 " But if I were asked — or suppose I were to 
 ask you to tell me my faults ?^'' 
 
 " I should certainly endeavour to do it to the 
 best of my ability." 
 
 " Well, pray, begin, I should like to have my 
 character drawn in a Christian-like manner," said 
 she, laughing. 
 
 " Yes ; but I must have many sittings before 
 I can attempt it. — I am not one of those nimble
 
 176 THE INIIERITAXCE. 
 
 artists who can take striking likenesses in five 
 minutes."" 
 
 " So much the better ; for they are always hi- 
 deous performances — but how long will you take 
 to make a good full-length portrait of me, for I 
 really long to see myself in my true colours — as 
 a mere mortal — not as a goddess ?'' 
 
 " You run no such risk with me, I assure 
 you," said he ; " but as to the time, that must 
 depend upon circumstances and opportunities — 
 perhaps in a year." 
 
 " A year !" exclaimed Gertrude. " O hea- 
 vens ! I shall die of impatience in a month — to 
 be a whole year before I hear of a single fault !" 
 
 " I did not say so," replied Mr Lyndsay ; 
 " as errors, like straws, you know, always float 
 on the surface, I shall be able to pick up plenty 
 of them, I have no doubt, very soon — (if I have 
 not got hold of one or two already) — but you 
 would not have me pronounce upon your charac- 
 ter from them ? — many pearls of great price may 
 lie hid below." 
 
 " Which, I'm afraid, you will never discover," 
 
 said Gertrude, laughing ; " so, if my picture is 
 
 not to be drawn till then, I fear I shall be wrink- 
 11
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 177 
 
 led, and old, and ugly, before you have found a 
 single gem to deck me with/^ 
 
 " I hope not,'' answered he ; " you say you 
 love truth and sincerity ; these are jewels in them- 
 selves, and their light may lead even my darken- 
 ed eyes (as you seem to think them) to discover 
 more. But to drop metaphor, and speak in plain 
 terms — why, since we both profess to like truth, 
 should we not agree to speak it to each other ?" 
 
 ^' With all my heart," answered Gertrude ; 
 " but we must settle the preliminaries, draw up 
 the code of laws, and swear to observe them : — 
 in the first place, then, we must make a solemn 
 vow, on all occasions to speak the truth, and no- 
 thing but the truth, coute qui! coute — in the se- 
 cond place, that nothing so said is to give mortal 
 offence to the one party or the other — in the third, 
 that however disagreeable we may think each 
 other, we are to make a point of declaring it in the 
 civilest and most Christian-hke manner imagina- 
 ble — in the fourth place " 
 
 " Beware,'"* said Mr Lyndsay, interrupting her, 
 '' of coming under any engagements, since Lord 
 Bacon says, ' It asketh a strong wit and a strong 
 heart to know when to tell the truth,' and you 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 178 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 know not what a savage man you have to deal 
 with ; — no, let it be a discretionary compact, with 
 mutual confidence its only guarantee f ' and he 
 held out his hand. Gertrude gave him her's, and 
 as she did so, she was struck, for the first time, 
 with the bland and beautiful expression of his 
 countenance. " I never can fear you," said she 
 with a smile ; — but the conversation was broken 
 off, by the entrance of the rest of the family, and 
 the consequent matin greetings that ensued. Co- 
 lonel Delmour was the last who entered, and a 
 shade of displeasure darkened his brow, at find- 
 ing the seat he considered as exclusively his own, 
 occupied by another. Gertrude observed his 
 chagrin, and felt secretly flattered by it. The 
 only vacant seat was one by Miss Pratt, who had 
 hitherto restrained her tongue for the benefit 
 of her ears, both of which had been on the full 
 stretch, the one to pick up certain little political 
 pieces of information, which it had reason to sup- 
 pose were not intended for it, the other to make 
 itself master of what was going on at the opposite 
 side of the table, between IMiss St Clair and Mr 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 It was wonderful how well these two niem*
 
 • CHAPTER XVI. 1T9 
 
 bers contrived to execute their respective offices, 
 though certainly the chief merit was due to their 
 mistress, who had trained these, her faithful ser- 
 vants, to such perfection in their calling, that 
 each of them, singly, could perform the work, 
 and more than the work, of any ordinary pair of 
 ears in the kingdom. What the industrious ear 
 had collected, the active brain was not long of 
 concocting, nor the nimble tongue of circulating. 
 " You look very grave this morning, Colonel,"" 
 said she, addressing her neighbour ; I wish you 
 had been here a little sooner, it would have done 
 your heart good to have seen and heard the fine 
 flirtation that's been carrying on over the way,'" 
 — with a significant nod to the opposite side of 
 the table. '' I can tell you, ]\lr Edward and a 
 certain fair lady have been looking very sweet 
 upon each other — it's not often he takes a flirting 
 fit, but I'm really glad to see your godly people 
 can be just like their neighbours sometimes, and 
 come as good speed too when they set about it. 
 AVhat do you think .^" — lowering her voice — 
 " She's going to sit to him for her picture — a 
 full length, with pearls in her hair ; and what do 
 you think .^" — still lower — '' He's to make her a
 
 180 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 present of the pearls — IVe a notion his mother's, 
 for I know she had a very fine set. — He did not 
 seem inclined (to tell the truth) to part with 
 them so soon, for I heard him say something 
 about a year ; but, says she, with her pretty 
 winning smile, what's the good of keeping things 
 till one's old, and bald, and toothless, and can't 
 enjoy them ? So much for French ease — who 
 would expect that to look at her ? — But, my gra- 
 cious ! Colonel, do you see what you've done ? 
 spilt your whole cup of coffee upon my good 
 new gown — I wonder how you contrived it — and 
 you're going to pour the cream upon me next," — 
 pushing her chair from him with the greatest ve- 
 locity — " 'Pon my word, one would think you did 
 it on purpose." 
 
 Colonel Delmour made no attempt to vindicate 
 himself from so foul an insinuation ; but, with his 
 shoulder turned to the offended fair, lounged over 
 the Morning Post, as if quite unconscious of her 
 presence. But, although he despised her too 
 much to deign to express his disbelief of her com- 
 munication, he was secretly provoked at the good 
 vmderstanding that seemed to exist between the 
 cousins. He had too high an opinion of himself
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 181 
 
 to have any fear of Lyndsay as a rival ; but he 
 had his own private reasons for wishing to have 
 him kept at a distance, at least, till he had secur- 
 ed, beyond a doubt, the affections of ^liss St 
 Clair. Besides, he was one of those who disliked 
 all interference with whatever object he chose to 
 appropriate to himself, be it horse, hound, or heart. 
 He, therefore, determined to put a stop to this 
 growing intimacy, and to seize the first opportu- 
 nity of bringing matters to an issue. 
 
 In the presence of Colonel Delmour and Miss 
 Pratt, it was seldom Mr Lyndsay had an oppor- 
 tunity of being duly appreciated, for in their 
 company he was generally silent. Not that he 
 had such a respect for their conversation as indu- 
 ced him to play the part of a mere listener ; on the 
 contrary, he gave httle attention to either of them; 
 but he was not a person to interrupt, or watch 
 for a pause, or in any way seek to attract the notice 
 of the company. The unobtrusive qualities of his 
 mind, therefore, did not strike upon the fancy 
 with the same glare as the more dazzling charac- 
 teristics of Colonel Delmour ; and where, as in 
 the minute occurrences of domestic life, there are 
 few or no opportunities of displaying the loftier and
 
 182 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 nobler attributes of mind, it can only be by slov/ 
 and imperceptible degrees such a character gains 
 upon the affections. A single sentence might have 
 summed up his, in the brief but comprehensive 
 words of an elegant writer — for of Lyndsay it 
 might truly be said, that " he set an example of 
 all the moral virtues without pride, and dared to 
 be conspicuous for all the Christian graces with- 
 out false shame." * 
 
 But Gertrude saw nothing of all this — she saw 
 only that a gloom hung upon Colonel Delmour's 
 brow which she would fain have dispelled ; and 
 for that purpose, she would have lingered beyond 
 the rest of the party, to have given him an op- 
 portunity of expressing his disquiet ; but she was 
 called away by her mother, to prepare for a visit 
 to her uncle, Mr Adam Ramsay 
 
 • Tour to Met, &c.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 183 
 
 CHAPTER :*VII. 
 
 He's a terrible man John Tod, John Tod ; 
 
 He's a terrible man John Tod ; 
 
 He scolds in the house, 
 
 He scolds at the door, 
 
 He scolds on the very high road, John Tod, 
 
 He scolds on the very high road, John Tod. 
 
 He's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod, 
 
 He's weel respeckit, John Tod ; 
 
 Wi' your auld strippit coul. 
 
 You look maist like a fule ; 
 
 But there's nouse in the lining, John Tod, John Tod, 
 
 But there's nouse in the lining, John Tod. 
 
 Old Soiio;, 
 
 The day was hot even to sultriness, and nei- 
 ther i\Irs St Clair nor her daughter were inclin- 
 ed to converse beyond a passing remark now and 
 then on the heat, dust, road, sun, &c. Both, in- 
 deed, were too agreeably occupied with their own 
 meditations for any interchange of thought. The 
 former was busy revolving how she was to carry 
 uncle Adam and his seventy thousand pounds by
 
 184 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 a coup de main ; and, as a preliminary step, had 
 provided herself with a French musical snuff-box 
 and a dozen of embroidered cambric pocket- 
 handkerchiefs. But Mrs St Clair little knew 
 the person she had to deal with, when she thought 
 to propitiate him h^ any such sacrifices. Mr 
 Adam Ramsay was a man of a fair character, and 
 strong understanding, but particular temper, and 
 unpl easing manners — with a good deal of pene- 
 tration, which (as is too often the case) served 
 no other purpose than to disgust him with his 
 own species. He had left home pennyless, at an 
 early period of life^ to push his fortune in the 
 world, and after having toiled and broiled for fif- 
 ty years, he had returned to what was now be- 
 come a stranger land, laden with wealth, which 
 he had no longer even the wish to enjoy. He 
 felt that he had lived in vain. He had no one to 
 love — no one to share in his possessions, — and that 
 only cordial which can give a relish even to the 
 dregs of life was not his — the treasures he had 
 laid up were all of this world ; and to a childless 
 cynical old man, perhaps great wealth is even 
 more galling than great poverty. Yet there were 
 good points in his character, and perhaps, had he
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 185 
 
 been a husband and father, and had his heart 
 been kept alive to the tender charities of hfe, he 
 might have proved an amiable man, and an 
 agreeable member of society. He possessed 
 strong natural affections, which, though they 
 had lain long dormant, were not yet extinct. It 
 was said that in early youth he had loved and 
 been beloved by one as poor and as friendless, 
 and somewhat lower in degree than himself, and 
 that it was in the hope of gaining affluence for 
 her he had crossed the seas, and sought his for- 
 tunes in a foreign land. But many are the dis- 
 appointments that precede the ftilfilment of our 
 hopes, and many a year rolled on, and found 
 Mr Ramsay as poor as at the first ; till, despair- 
 ing of ever being able to return and claim his 
 bride, he wrote to release her from her promise 
 of awaiting his return. The fortune at length 
 was made, but too late — the gay dreams of 
 youth were fled for ever ! — His mistress had mar- 
 ried, and was dead, and the sanguine adven- 
 turous stripling was grown into the soured misan- 
 thropic old man. Such was the outline of uncle 
 Adam's story, and little more remains to be said 
 of him.
 
 18G THE INHERITAXCK. 
 
 He lived much alone, had all the habits of a 
 recluse, and all the little peculiarities which are 
 supposed to belong to single gentlemen of a cer- 
 tain age. In particular, he had an extreme dis- 
 like to receiving those delicate attentions which 
 are sometimes so assiduously rendered to the rich 
 and the childless. Not Tunon himself was more 
 tenacious in this respect than uncle Adam, or 
 more disposed to buiFet all whom he suspected of 
 a design to prey upon his hoards. The house he 
 now inhabited was one he had taken as a tempo- 
 rary residence on his first arrival ; and although 
 he had bought a fine estate with a suitable man- 
 sion in the immediate vicinity, and every day had 
 purposed taking possession of it, yet each revolv- 
 ing term found him sitting in the self-same par- 
 lour, in the self-same chair, and in the self-same 
 frame of mind. It was at this suburban \illa 
 that the handsome equipage of the Earl of Ross- 
 ville now stopped. It was a small vulgar, star- 
 ing red house, with a plot of long bottle-green 
 gi'ass in front, and a narrow border of the coarsest 
 of flowers, (or rather flowering weeds, interspers- 
 ed with nettles,) growing thin and straggling 
 from a green slimy-looking soil, and covered with
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 187 
 
 dust from the road — from which it was only se- 
 parated by a railing. ]\Irs St Clair reddened 
 with shame, as she marked the contemptuous 
 air with which the consequential footman rapped 
 on the humble door — for bell or knocker there was 
 none. The door was speedily flung open to its 
 farthest extent, by a fat rosy stamping damsel, 
 in a flaming gown and top-knots, who testified the 
 greatest alacrity in doing the honours of the en- 
 trance. 
 
 " Wh-at a habitation for a man with seventy 
 thousand pounds !" exclaimed ]VIrs St Clair, as 
 she entered ; but there was no tune for pursuing 
 her observations, for she was the next minute in 
 the little parlour of uncle Adam. It was a small 
 close room, with a meridian sun streaming full 
 into it, and calling forth to view myriads of 
 " dancing motes that people the sun-beams,"' 
 while innumerable hosts of huge flies buzzed and 
 revelled in all the luxury of its heat, and an ex- 
 piring fire, with its usual concomitants of dust and 
 ashes, seemed fast sinking beneath the influence 
 of the God of Day. A small dining-table, and 
 a few hair-cloth chairs stuck against the walls, 
 comprised the whole furniture of the room. A
 
 188 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 framed table of weights and measures, an old 
 newspaper, and a parcel of dusty parchments, tied 
 with a red tape, formed its resources and de- 
 corations. Altogether it wore the comfortless 
 aspect of a bad inn's worst parlour — a sort of 
 place where one might pass five minutes while 
 changing horses, but where there was no induce- 
 ment even for the weary traveller to tarry. 
 
 Mr Ramsay sat by the side of the expiring fire, 
 seemingly contemplating the gaists and cinders 
 which lay scattered over the hearth ; but he had 
 somewhat the air of a man prepared (rather un- 
 willingly) to receive company. He was above 
 the middle size, with high stooping shoulders, 
 sharp cross-looking elbows, projecting far beyond 
 his back, a somewhat stormy blue face, and little 
 pale eyes, surmounted by shaggy white eye-brows. 
 His ordinary head-piece, a striped woollen night- 
 cap, had been laid aside for a capacious powder- 
 ed peruke with side curls, and a large queue. 
 To complete the whole, he was left-handed, which 
 gave a peculiar awkwardness to his naturally un- 
 gainly deportment. He welcomed Mrs St Clair 
 with a mixture of cordiality and awkwardness, as 
 if he wished to be kind, but did not know very
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 189 
 
 well how to set about it. She had too much 
 manner, however, to allow him to remain under 
 any embarrassment on that score; and was squeez- 
 ing uncle Adam"'s somewhat reluctant hand, and 
 smiling on his rugged \'isage, and uttering a 
 thousand soft and civil things to his rather avert- 
 ed ear, when suddenly she stopped, for she felt 
 that all was thrown away : her uncle had fixed 
 his eyes on Gertrude, and regarding her with vi- 
 sible emotion, seemed unconscious of every other 
 object. 
 
 " Who is that P'" at length demanded he, in an 
 agitated voice. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear uncle," replied Mrs 
 St Clair ; " but, in my happiness at seeing you, 
 I forgot that my daughter was hkewise a stranger 
 to you.'' 
 
 " Your daughter !'' exclaimed Mr Ramsay, 
 " it's not possible !" 
 
 " Why so, my dear uncle .^" asked Mrs St 
 Clair with a smile, and in full expectation of a 
 gallant compliment on her own youthful appear- 
 ance. 
 
 *' She's the very picture of ; but you'll 
 
 no mind Lizzie Lundie — bonny Lizzie Lundie."
 
 190 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 He gave a sort of growling sigh, and a pause fol- 
 lowed. Visions of former days seemed to crowd 
 into the old man's mind, and he went on as if 
 communing with himself. " I little thought 
 when I parted frae her, fifty year come Mar- 
 tinmas, that I had ta'en my last look o' Lizzie ; 
 and as little did I think, when I heard she was 
 gane, that I should ever live to see her like in 
 this warld — no that she just matches Lizzie nei- 
 ther ;" and something like a tear gleamed in his 
 eye, as he continued to gaze on the image of his 
 youthful fancy. Gertrude's style of dress was 
 such as helped to heighten the illusion: owing 
 to the heat of the day, she had thrown off her 
 bonnet, and the band that confined her hair wore 
 almost the appearance of the snood which had 
 been the prevailing fashion for damsels of Lizzie's 
 degree in her day ; her throat also was uncover- 
 ed, and the whole contour of the head was thus 
 displayed at once in all the simplicity of nature, 
 and one more strikingly beautiful could scarcely 
 be conceived. 
 
 Confused by the blunt admiration thus ex- 
 pressed for her, Gertrude looked to her mother, 
 and, struck with the deadly paleness of her coun-
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 191 
 
 teiiance, she hastily exclaimed, " Mama, you 
 are ill ;" and Mrs St Clair, gasping for breath, 
 sunk almost lifeless in her daughter's arms. — 
 " Air — air," was all she could articulate; and that 
 certainly was the one thing needful in uncle 
 Adam's apartment, for the atmosphere was in- 
 deed suffocating. The door and window were 
 instantly thrown open ; Gertrude held a glass of 
 water to her mother's pallid lips ; and Mr Ram- 
 say stuffed a bunch of southernwood into her 
 powerless hand. At length these restoratives ap- 
 peared to produce then* effects, and Mrs St Clair 
 slowly revived. Due apologies were of course 
 made and accepted; the uncommon heat of the day 
 was much commented on, and the closeness of the 
 room delicately hinted at. Some refreshments, not 
 of the choicest description, were now brought in 
 by the great awkward heavy-footed maid-servant ; 
 and Mr Ramsay, taking a glass of wine, drank 
 a welcome to his niece on her return to Scotland, 
 " and to the bonny creature youVe brought with 
 you," added he, again fixing his eyes on Ger- 
 trude. " After all," continued he, " the thing's 
 not impossible — Lizzie was a relation of ours — 
 a distant one to be sure ; let me see — Lizzie's
 
 19^ THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 father and my father were cousin-germains' bairns 
 — but that'll no do, for it's by the other side o' 
 the hoos — it was by my father."" 
 
 Mrs St Clair's colour rose to the deepest crim- 
 son, and she seemed struggling to subdue her 
 feelings. At length, making an effort at self-con- 
 trol, she said with affected pleasantry — " I have 
 no doubt my daughter has great reason to be flat- 
 tered at the resemblance you have discovered for 
 her — but, my dear uncle, you know there are 
 certain prejudices — certain notions that some peo- 
 ple entertain — In short, the thing to be talked of 
 amongst ourselves is very well ; and it is very flat- 
 tering to me that my daughter's looks should afford 
 
 you pleasure — but I own I. 1 should be sorry 
 
 — I would rather that a report of such a resem- 
 blance were not to reach the Rossville family — 
 they now consider my daughter as one of them- 
 selves ; and their pride might be hurt, you know, 
 and a prejudice created, that might prove highly 
 detrimental to Gertrude's best interests." 
 
 " Set them up with their pride !" cried Mr 
 Ramsay — all softer emotions giving way to indig- 
 nation ; " their pride hurt, indeed, at being com- 
 pared to Lizzie Lundie ! — There's no a Rossville 
 
 4
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 193 
 
 or a St Clair among them that e'er I saw was fit 
 to tie Lizzie Lundie's shoe — the Queen upon the 
 throne might have thought it an honour to be 
 compared to Lizzie;"' — and the little chamber 
 seemed as thoucrh it would not contain him in his 
 wrath, as he paced up and down its narrow bounds, 
 with his hands crossed behind his back : all shy- 
 ness and embarrassment had vanished in this burst 
 of passion, and uncle Adam stood revealed in his 
 own character. Then suddenly stopping — " And 
 what would ha'e come o' ye if Lizzie Lundie had 
 been what I ance thought she would ha'e been — 
 my wedded wife ? — AVhat would your Rossvilles 
 ha^e done then ? — Would you ha'e thought it a 
 disgrace then, that your daughter should ha'e 
 been likened to your uncle's wife ?" 
 
 " Oh ! this is too much !" exclaimed Mrs St 
 Clair, bursting into tears. 
 
 '' What's too much .?" cried he, continuing to 
 walk up and down in great discomposure. Then 
 suddenly stopping, and softening at sight of his 
 niece's distress — " Come, Come — What's a' this 
 for.? — waes me, ye ha'e suffered little in the warld, 
 if the hasty word o' an auld man can set ye off 
 this way — ye'll ken me better by and bye than to 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 194 THE IXHEr.TTAXCE. 
 
 mind a' that I say f' — then patting Gertrude on 
 the shoulder, as she hung over her mother — 
 " It\s you that has made us cast out, and if s you 
 that maun make us 'gree." 
 
 Gertrude took her mother's hand, and put it in 
 her uncle's — he took it kindly, and Mrs St Clair, 
 as soon as she found voice, said — '^ Excuse me, 
 my dear uncle, I am ashamed of my weakness — 
 but my nerves are now so shattered, and my spi- 
 rits are not what they once were — I have a diffi- 
 cult part to play, and it is not surprising if 
 
 In short, dependent as I am on the relations of 
 my child — and that dear child's interest so much 
 at stake too — you cannot wonder if I am some- 
 times driven — if I sometimes stoop — if I should 
 sometimes tremble " 
 
 Mrs St Clair seemed at a loss to finish — but 
 her uncle saved her the trouble — " Aye, aye, 
 you have a proud thrawn pack to deal wi', I be- 
 lieve." 
 
 " Then you understand, my dear uncle, the 
 reason of my wishing that " 
 
 *' Aye, aye — ye needna be feared for me — but 
 I maun aye think the likeness maist wonderful — 
 most wonderful — most wonderful" — repeated he
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 195 
 
 two or three times as he contemplated, and seve- 
 rally enumerated every feature, summing up the 
 whole with — " Since I saw Lizzie Lundie, IVe 
 never seen the woman that I thought worth the 
 looking at ti^l now/ At that moment a smart 
 female figure, feathered and furbelowed, entered 
 the little yard, and approached the house. — 
 '* There's ane o' the fule tribe," cried he ; '' my 
 bonny niece. Miss Bell Black. — I ne'er see that 
 craatur that I dinna wish myself blind, and deaf, 
 and doited/' And thereupon entered Miss Bell.
 
 196 THE INHERITAXei:. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 He had a sowre behaviour, and a tongue immoderately free and 
 full of taunting. 
 
 Livy. 
 
 " What's brought you here. Miss Bell.?'" was 
 his salutation on entering; but nowise daunted 
 with what, indeed, she was well accustomed to, 
 she boldly shook hands with all around, and then 
 showing a small basket — " I have brought you 
 some very fine strawberries, uncle ; they are the 
 first we have had in our garden; and I assure you, 
 I have had much ado to keep them from the chil- 
 dren for you ;"' — and with a consequential air, she 
 disclosed some dozen or two of very so-so look- 
 ing strawberries. 
 
 " You had very little to do then,""* said Mr 
 Ramsay — " I wad na gi'e a bawbee for a' the ber- 
 ries in your garden — so ye may just tak them 
 back to whar ye brought them frae ; or stay, since 
 ye ha'e robbed your brithers and sisters o' them.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 197 
 
 puir things, there's a barbers bairn twa doors afF 
 that wad maybe be glad o' them — it's lying in the 
 mizzles."" 
 
 " Ton my word, uncle," said Miss Bell in great 
 indignation, " I have something else to do than 
 to pick strawberries for barber's brats, indeed." — 
 But uncle Adam, going to the door, called the 
 maid, and giving her the strawberries, directed 
 her to " carry the berries to Rob Rattray's bairn, 
 and to ask how he was." Miss Bell prudently 
 turned a deaf ear to the message, and was apolo- 
 gizing, with all her powers of eloquence, to Mrs 
 St Clair and her daughter, for not having been 
 to visit them — " But the truth is,"' said she, with 
 a well got up air of modesty, '* that, in my situa- 
 tion, visiting is out of the question. If I were to 
 go to one place, I should have to go everywhere, 
 and the Major has so many connections in the 
 country, who, of course, would expect me to come 
 to them, that it would be extremely unpleasant 
 in my situation, where the thing is so well known. 
 This, I assure you, is the only place I ever go to, 
 as I think it a positive duty — (lowering her voice) 
 — to pay attention to my uncle, poor man, and I 
 am the only one of the family who understands
 
 193 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 his ways, and can manage him.'' Mr Ramsay 
 having for the moment appeased the antipathy 
 he bore his niece by the insult he had offered her, 
 -was now restored to something like good humour. 
 " Weel, Miss BelV said he, " what have you 
 made of your nawbob — your swain — your loveyer 
 — your what-do-ye-call-him ?''' 
 
 " If you mean the Major," said Miss Bell with 
 dignity, " he walked into town with me, and is 
 gone to look at a pair of carriage-horses that are 
 for sale at the White Bear just now ; I suppose 
 he will be here in a little ;" — then drawing back 
 from the window with a face of alarm, as a carriage 
 passed — 
 
 *' I really wish, uncle, if you mean to remain 
 here, you would get a blind for your window, for 
 every body is seen in this room, and in my situa- 
 tion, it is not very pleasant, I assure you, to be 
 exposed to everybody that passes ; — that was the 
 Boghall carriage that passed just now, and they 
 must think it very odd to have seen me sitting 
 here when I declined an invitation to dinner 
 there for to-morrow, upon the plea that I went 
 nowhere at present." 
 
 " Then what brings you here, if you're no fit
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 199 
 
 to be seen?" demanded uncle Adam in a most 
 wrathfid accent. 
 
 " I must confess, my dear uncle," said Mrs St 
 Clair, glad of an opening for expressing her sen- 
 timents, and, at the same time, softening the tone 
 of the conversation, " this house does not seem 
 quite suitable for you." 
 
 " What ails the house ?'' asked he sharply. 
 
 " I beg pardon, I understood (perhaps I was 
 misinformed) that you were the proprietor of a 
 charming place in this neighbourhood," 
 
 " Weel .^" This was put in so startling a man- 
 ner, that Mrs St Clair's courage failed her, and 
 she feared to reply ; — not so Miss Bell. 
 
 " Well ! to think of any body in their senses 
 living in this little, vulgar, shabby hole, when 
 they have such a house as Bloom-Park standing 
 empty — I assure you, uncle, it has a very odd ap- 
 pearance in the eyes of the world." 
 
 " Miss Bell Black, you that's such a wise, sen- 
 sible, weel informed woman, that kens aw thing, 
 will you just ha'e the goodness to tell me, what 
 are the eyes of the warld, and whar do they stand ? 
 For muckle I ha'e heard of the eyes o' the warld, 
 but I ha'e never been able to see them yet ;" and
 
 200 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 Mr Ramsay fixed his upon her, while he advanc- 
 ed his face almost close to her, and put his hands 
 on his knees, in a manner that seemed to say, 
 " Answer me this before you stir." 
 
 Miss Bell hesitated a little — " Why, I can on- 
 ly tell you, uncle, that Lord Fairacre was quite 
 confounded when the Major told him you had 
 never taken possession of Bloom-Park yet, and 
 said it was most extraordinary that you should 
 continue to live in a house that was hardly good 
 enough for a dog-kennel ; and Boghall, who w^as 
 present, said, he did not believe the whole house 
 was the size of his kitchen, and the Major him- 
 self I know thinks — — " 
 
 " And so these are the eyes of the world !" 
 cried Mr Ramsay, with a sort of growling sardo- 
 nic laugh ; " pretty eyes they are, to be sure, to 
 drive a man out of his ain house ! — The tane a 
 poor silly spendthrift, the t'ither a great gorman- 
 dizing swash, and the third — but how comes the 
 warld to have but three eyes? — can you no mak 
 out a fourth? — I beg your pardon, I suppose your 
 ain was to be the fourth, and that maks aw right, 
 for then ye can gi'e the warld twa faces ; Fair- 
 acre^s and Boghall on the tae face, Major Waddell
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 201 
 
 and Miss Bell Black on the t'ither ;" — then in a 
 lower key, and muttering to himself, " Spend- 
 thrifts and ne'erdoweels on the tae side, fules 
 and tawpies on the t'ither, a true picture o"* the 
 warld." 
 
 Any other than Miss Bell would certainly have 
 given m here ; but Miss Bell was one of those 
 gifted mortals who are quite invulnerable to the 
 shafts of envy, hatred, or malice, when it is their 
 interest to be so ; and though she did look a little 
 hot and disconcerted for a few minutes, she quick- 
 ly rallied, and resumed — 
 
 " I assure you, uncle, whatever you may think, 
 the opinion of the world is not to be despised." 
 
 " Miss Bell Black, I have lived rather longer 
 in the world than you have done, and I've seen 
 rather mair o't than you're ever likely to see — and 
 I would nae gi'e that,'' snapping his fingers, " for 
 either it's gude word or it's ill ; it canna say that 
 ever I oppressed them that were beneath me,— 
 or cringed to them that were aboon me, — or that I 
 ever wranged ony creature o' a boddle, — or that I 
 ever said the thing I didna think ; and if either 
 you or your warld think I'm to be dictated to in 
 my ain house, you're much mistaken."
 
 202 THE INHEillTANCE. 
 
 " WeU, uncle, I can only say, I think it is a 
 great pity that so fine a place as Bloom-Park 
 should be standing empty ; and since you seem 
 resolved not to live at it yourself, there's many a 
 one, I assure you, would be glad to take it off 
 your hands. The Major has been looking at 
 Elm Grove — but I think there is no comparison 
 between Bloom-Park and it." 
 
 " What then .?" demanded Mr Ramsay. 
 
 " O, nothing. Only if you had any thoughts 
 of letting it, it is such a Paradise, that " 
 
 " I could be at nae loss for an Adam and Eve 
 to put in it," interrupted her uncle ; " your naw- 
 bob and you for instance" — with a growling grin ; 
 — " but I can tell you, ye'll no play your gambols 
 there if I can help it." 
 
 Miss Bell looked very indignant as she replied, 
 " As to that, the Major cares very little about the 
 matter; if I am pleased, that is all he is anxious 
 about, and the rent is no object — but I find it very 
 difficult to get a place to suit us in every respect 
 — but here is the Major himself," — and the ]\fa- 
 jor was presently ushered in. Mr Ramsay re- 
 ceived him with tolerable civility, and Mrs St 
 Clair, desirous of receiving his vote at the a[)-
 
 ClIAl'TKR XVIII. 203 
 
 proaching election, was preparing the way by a 
 soft speech about nothing. But Miss Bell never 
 permitted the Major to speak to, or look at, or 
 listen to any body else when she was present, and 
 she therefore called him off* with — " "Well, ^lajor, 
 did you see the carriage-horses, and what do you 
 think of them ?" 
 
 " They seem good serviceable horses — not par- 
 ticularly handsome," replied he. 
 
 " What colour ? — I'll thank you for a glass of 
 water, Major.'"* 
 
 " Pray — allow me to put a little wine in it."*' 
 
 " The least drop — and you think they w ill do ? 
 — Oh ! not so much." 
 
 " That is not for me to decide," replied the 
 Major, with a bow — which was graciously ac- 
 knowledged with a smile. " Perhaps you will 
 take a look of them yourself .''" 
 
 " Why, in my situation,'' — in a modest key — 
 " I hardly think I should like to go to the White 
 Bear — Major, will you take this glass .?" 
 
 " But I shall desire the ostler to bring them up 
 here, 'tis but a step from the stables " 
 
 " I'm for none of your horses brought to my 
 door," cried Mr Ramsay ; '* it will be through the
 
 20 1< THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 town Tm setting up my chaise next, and a bonny 
 hullybaloo there'll be,'' and he paced the room in 
 great perturbation at the bare supposition of such 
 a thing. 
 
 " My dear Sir"— began the Major, but he was 
 cut short with — 
 
 " Now I'm for none of your horses at my 
 door." 
 
 " Bless me ! uncle," cried Miss Bell, " I think 
 you may be very well pleased to get the credit of 
 a carriage at such an easy rate." 
 
 " Great credit to be sure ! to get the credit of 
 being an auld ostentatious fule." 
 
 " Such nonsense, uncle ! — at any rate, I 
 thought you did not care what the world said of 
 you." 
 
 " You thought !" repeated uncle Adam, with 
 the most sovereign contempt ; " and what entitles 
 you to think ? — but ye need say nae mair aboot 
 it — there's to be nae horses brought to my door. 
 If ye maun ha'e horses, ye maun gang to the 
 horse-market for them, like other folk — I'm no to 
 ha'e my house turned into a White Bear." 
 
 " My dear Sir" said the Major. 
 
 " In my situation" — interrupted Miss Bell —
 
 CHAPTER XVITI. 205 
 
 *' it would have a very odd appearance in the 
 eyes of the workV But here Mrs St Clair in- 
 terposed, by offering to chaperon her niece to the 
 White Bear in Lord Rossville's carriage, hoping 
 to be repaid for this civility by securing the Ma- 
 jor's vote. The offer, after a little affected demur, 
 was accepted, and the Major was dispatched to 
 have the horses in readiness. 
 
 " I really think, uncle, you might dispense with 
 afire now," remarked Miss Bell as she rose to de- 
 part. 
 
 " Do ye ken naething else I could dispense 
 wi' ?'*'' demanded Mr Ramsay, with a look and em- 
 phasis that might have made a tortoise fly : — not 
 so Miss Bell, who still lingered in the desperate 
 hope of showing her consequence, and proving 
 her influence over uncle Adam and his seventy 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 " Well, uncle, when are we to see you at 
 Bellevue r 
 
 " I would prefer my claim for a visit,'* said 
 Mrs St Clair, with her most winning smile ; 
 " but Lord Rossville intends himself to have the 
 pleasure of calling upon you, and '' 
 
 " In hopes of getting my vote,'' interrupted
 
 206 THE INHERITAXCE. 
 
 Mr Ramsay, impatiently ; *' but he may just save 
 himself the trouble — I'm no gaun to be hunted 
 out o' my senses by your election bounds. — I'll 
 gi'e my vote to wha I like, or may be I'll keep it 
 to mysel — ^but there's ae thing I can tell you, it's 
 no to be had for the asking." 
 
 Mrs St Clair prudently received this rebuff in 
 silence ; but Miss Bell plucked up fresh spirit at 
 witnessing another's discomfiture, and taking her 
 uncle by the breast of the coat, and drawing him 
 back, she began in an under tone of voice, as if 
 desirous of not being overheard, — 
 
 " By the bye, uncle, talking of votes, there's 
 one thing that I feel very anxious about, and 
 that is, that the Major and you should concert 
 something together as to your votes — it would be 
 extremely awkward, I think, if you were to take 
 different sides, and have a very odd appearance 
 in the eyes of the world." 
 
 Whatever uncle Adam's thoughts might be, 
 his looks portended a storm ready to burst forth ; 
 but as Gertrude turned towards him, to wish him 
 good morning, his features relaxed, and his frown 
 gradually softened into something like a smile. 
 
 " The eyes of the world !" repeated he ; ''I
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 207 
 
 would na gi'e a glisk o' thae bonny een of your's 
 for aw the eyes o"* the world put thegither, — and 
 dinna you, my dear, let the eyes o' the world 
 scare you, as they ha^e done mony a ane,.frae 
 your ain happiness. Now, fare ye weel, my daw- 
 tie/' patting her shoulder, " an' I'll say to you 
 what I wad na say to mony — 111 aye be glad to 
 see you, come when you like — fare ye weel — 
 Gude morning to you, Miss Bell ; and ye may tak 
 the eyes 0' the world on your back, and muckle 
 gude may they do ye f' — and, with a laugh of de- 
 rision, uncle Adam saw his visitors drive off, and 
 returned to his little dusty sunny parlour, elate 
 with the triumph of having defied the world and 
 its eyes. 
 
 But before parting with Mr Ramsay, we must 
 here observe, that he is not the only one who has 
 attempted to walk as if uncontrolled by the scan 
 of that dread power, commonly called the eyes of 
 the world. Few, if any, however, have ever ar- 
 rived at entire emancipation from its influence, 
 which extends more or less over all mankind. 
 Uncle Adam flattered himself that he was one 
 of the happy few who had escaped from its thral- 
 dom — but, alas ! poor man, its yoke was still upon
 
 208 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 him, and, unconscious of its chains, he hugged 
 himself in his freedom. He cared not, indeed, 
 that the world should call him a miser — he cared 
 not that the world should call him a churl — he\\ 
 cared not that the world should call him odd — 
 he cared not that the world should say he lived 
 in a mean house, or wore a shabby hat, or an old- 
 fashioned wig ; but he cared lest the world should 
 think he cared for the world — ^or lest the world 
 should say that he was vain, or proud, or osten- 
 tatious, or expensive ; and it was this which 
 made him often deny himself many a little com- 
 fort, many a harmless gratification, many an in- 
 nocent desire he had in common with that world 
 he so much despised. To be free from the eyes 
 of the world has been the aim of many, but the 
 attainment of few. Man is not born to be free, 
 and when all restraint is laid aside, the wicked- 
 ness of the human heart displays itself in the 
 most hideous forms. 'Tis to the Christian alone 
 that such freedom belongs, and he only can 
 say, " Je crams Dieu et nai point cT autre 
 crainte.'*'* 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A merry going out often bringeth a mournful return ; and a 
 joyful morning a sad evening. 
 
 Thomas a Kempis. 
 
 During their progress to the White Bear, Miss 
 Bell indemnified herself for the mortifications she 
 had received from her uncle, by expressing her- 
 self in terms of the greatest pity and contempt 
 for him. 
 
 " Poor man !" said she, " I really feel for him, 
 — for you must know it is alleged I am his great 
 favourite ; and when that is the case, of course 
 one will put up with a great deal. Indeed, for 
 my part, I know his temper so well, I never should 
 think of being affronted at any thing he could say; 
 but I own I am sometimes afraid of the Major — 
 a man of his rank is not to be tampered with — and 
 he has such a high spirit, there is no saying how 
 he might resent any thing the least like disrespect 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 210 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 to me, though I know my poor uncle is far from 
 meaning any thing of the kind. It is entirely his 
 manner, for I have been told he speaks very hand- 
 somely of me behind my back ; and when that is 
 the case, one should not mind what is said to their 
 face. However, in my situation, it is certainly 
 not pleasant, and when I am a married woman, 
 the thing must be put a stop to.'" 
 
 Here Mrs St Clair put a stop to that subject, 
 by introducing the one uppermost in her thoughts, 
 that of the Election, and requesting her niece to 
 use her influence with her lover on the occasion. 
 But Miss Bell, like all fools, had her share of cun- 
 ning, as well as of consequence; and she was 
 aware that the more doubts and difficulties she 
 could attach to the Major's vote, the more the 
 Major's importance and her own importance would 
 be increased ; and she therefore made answer, — 
 
 " Why, really aunt, to tell you the truth, the 
 Major has a very difficult part to act ; and it will 
 require no small management, I assure you, both 
 in him and me, to avoid giving offence to one side 
 or the other. Connected as he is with the Fairacre 
 and Boghall families, it will be a strong step in 
 him to give his vote to the opposite party. At
 
 ClfAPTER XIX. 211 
 
 the same time, I know I have only to say the 
 word to secure him for my friends ; — but as I said 
 to him, the world might reflect upon me, were I 
 to make use of my influence in so important a 
 matter. Besides, you know, aunt, I can say no- 
 thing tiU the iVfajor has been waited upon by 
 Lord RossviUe, and has been paid proper atten- 
 tion to by the family ; and it would also be right, 
 I think, if some of the ladies were to be introduced 
 to his sister, Mrs Fairbairn, a very sweet woman, 
 who lives a Uttle way from this.'' But here the 
 carriage drove up to the White Bear, where nei- 
 ther the Major nor the horses were to be seen ; 
 but they were told both would be forthcoming pre- 
 sently. There was nothing for it, therefore, but 
 to wait patiently in the midst of the usual assem- 
 blage that is to be seen lounging at an inn door — 
 hostlers, drivers, stable-boys, beggars, waiters, tra- 
 vellers, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 ''.This is very unpleasant," said Miss BeU. 
 " I wonder how the Major could think of expos- 
 ing a person in my situation in this manner. I 
 am sure I would rather have gone without car- 
 riage-horses, than have had aU these people's eyes 
 upon me. There is one man, I declare he stares
 
 2153 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 in such a manner, I don't know where to look — 
 I wonder what he means. — I really wish he would 
 bestow his attention on somebody else ; — but, per- 
 haps, cousin, he's one of your French beaux ?"" 
 
 Mrs St Clair and Gertrude both looked in the 
 direction pointed out by Miss Bell, and both were 
 struck by the appearance of the person in ques- 
 tion, or rather by the earnest scrutinizing look 
 with which he regarded the party ; for, although 
 handsome, there was nothing very striking either 
 in his dress or figure — nothing that was even 
 indicative of the station to which he might be 
 supposed to belong. He was a man seemingly 
 turned of thirty, but might be more, with fair but 
 sun-burnt complexion — light hair — handsome, 
 though rather hawk nose, and keen bright blue 
 eyes. — Taken singly, his features had no pecu- 
 liarity in them ; but there was something in the 
 general expression of the countenance of rather a 
 marked and unpleasing character. 
 
 " I have surely seen that face before,'"* said 
 Mrs St Clair, endeavouring to recollect when and 
 where. 
 
 " I'm sure he won't forget some of ours," said 
 Miss Bell ; " for I really never saw any thing so
 
 CHAPTER XTX. 213 
 
 impudent as the manner in which he stares ; and 
 such a shabby-looking creature, all covered with 
 dust ! I dare say he is just off the top of some 
 coach — I'm sure if the ]\Iajor catches him staring 
 
 so impudently at me but here comes the 
 
 Major and the carriage-horses — don't they look 
 very well ?'' — and then ensued a colloquy between 
 the lovers. 
 
 '^ How do you like your steeds, Isabella y 
 
 " Not mine, Major— you know I have nothing 
 to do with them — but what do you think of them 
 yourself ?'' 
 
 " My thoughts must be guided entirely by 
 your taste."* 
 
 " Very gallant, indeed !" — and so forth in the 
 usual style of some such silly pair. 
 
 The stranger all the while kept his station, af- 
 ter asking a question of one of the servants ; but 
 his looks, which, at first, had wandered from one or 
 other of the party, finally rested on Gertrude, 
 with an expression which it was impossible to 
 comprehend or define. It was neither admira- 
 tion, nor curiosity, nor pleasure, nor any of the 
 common emotions which a stranger might be sup-
 
 214 THE IJ^HERITANCE. 
 
 posed to entertain, but his countenance assumed 
 a sort of smile of exultation no less strange than 
 offensive. In some displeasure at so rude and 
 persevering a gaze, Gertrude raised her hand to 
 pull down the blind, when, suddenly springing 
 forward, he laid his hand on the door of the car- 
 riage. 
 
 " What insolence !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair. 
 The stranger looked at her for a moment with a 
 bitter, contemptuous smile — then said — 
 " I would speak with you. Madam." 
 " Speak, then — say what is your business .^" 
 answered she somewhat impatiently. 
 
 " You would not wish me to declare it in the 
 presence of these ladies, I am sure,"" replied the 
 man, with a still more familiar look and manner. 
 Miss Bell's body and soul were both half out of 
 the opposite side of the carriage, as she leaned 
 over communing with the Major. Mrs St Clair, 
 therefore, answered haughtily — 
 
 " You can have nothing to say to me that my 
 daughter may not hear." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed the stranger in an ironi- 
 cal tone—" Is she then " Mrs St Clair invo-
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 2X5 
 
 luntarily bent her head towards him, and the rest 
 of the sentence was whispered in her ear, when, 
 uttering a half-stifled shriek, she sunk back pale, 
 trembling, and convulsed. 
 
 " What's the matter ?^ cried Miss Bell, turn- 
 ing round. 
 
 " ]\Iama has been frightened by that strange- 
 looking man," answered Gertrude, in a low voice. 
 " Bless me !'' cried Miss Bell, " such non- 
 sense, to be frightened for any man when the Ma- 
 jor is here'' — then in a loud key — '' Major, I 
 wish you would ask that person what he wants ?" 
 
 " Not for the world !" exclaimed Mrs St Clair, 
 suddenly starting up in the most extreme agita- 
 tion — " I know him — I have seen him before — 
 
 I 1 must speak to him myself," gasped she, 
 
 as she motioned to have the carriage door open- 
 ed. 
 
 "Oh, mama !"' cried Gertrude, taking her mo- 
 ther's trembling hand to detain her — " you are 
 unable — allow me ;'" but her mother seemed not 
 to hear her, as, with the assistance of the servants, 
 she alighted, and, with an unsteady step, drew 
 near the stranger, who had withdrawn a few 
 paces from the carriage, apart from the bystanders.
 
 216 
 
 THE IXHEllITANCE. 
 
 " Good gracious !" exclaimed Miss Bell, in 
 a whisper to Gertrude — " I see my aunt is terri- 
 fied at the thoughts of involving the Major with 
 that man, and, to be sure, if he had only seen 
 how he stared at me, I dare say he wbuld have 
 knocked him down, so it's better she should speak 
 to him herself, as I am under her protection at 
 present, you know." 
 
 Gertrude made no reply, and Miss Bell, too 
 much interested in her carriage-horses, to be- 
 stow her attention on any mere human concerns, 
 quickly returned to the discussion of hoofs, tails, 
 manes, &c. Mrs St Clair, meanwhile, having ex- 
 changed a few words with the stranger, returned 
 to the carriage, still bearing visible signs of great 
 mental disquiet. 
 
 " So, aunt, you have very soon disposed of your 
 beau,'' began Miss Bell, no less deficient in common 
 observation than in delicacy. " Dear me, are we driv- 
 ing away, and nothing settled about the carriage- 
 horses yet,andwhere''s the Major ? — Major — Ma- 
 jor — stop, driver, for the Major;" and presently the 
 Major's willow-green visage presented itself, pant- 
 ing with the exertion of running after the carriage. 
 
 " I can make nothing of that fellow," said he, ad-
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 217 
 
 dressing Mrs St Clair; "he seems a most confound- 
 ed insolent dog. If I had been a justice of the 
 peace, I should certainly have committed him." 
 
 " I think you would have done quite right," said 
 Miss Bell ; " and I really think, aunt, you were 
 a great deal too soft with him — What did he say 
 to you, Major ?" 
 
 " O, he was confoundedly impertinent, and if 
 I had had my bamboo, I should certainly have 
 laid it across his shoulders.'^ 
 
 " Well, I dare say it was better that you got out to 
 speak to him yourself, than that the Major should 
 have taken him inhand; but he would have deserv- 
 ed it," said Miss Bell, " if ithad onlybeenfor his im- 
 pudence in staring atmeinthemannerhe did — but, 
 by-the-bye, did not you say you knew him, aunt ?" 
 
 Mrs St Clair's colour had undergone many va- 
 riations during this conversation, and Gertrude 
 thought she read torture in every feature and li- 
 neament of her countenance. But in a voice which 
 she vainly tried to render firm and composed, she 
 replied, " I have seen him before, only once, and 
 that under circumstances of distress in my hus- 
 band's " Here her emotion choked her utter- 
 ance, and Miss Bell and the Major, who were no
 
 Sll8 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 nice observers, ascribed her agitation to the only 
 legitimate source of a widow's tears, the remem- 
 brance of her departed lord ; and not being at all 
 in a mood to sympathize in any such sorrowful feel- 
 ings, Miss Bell proposed to alight and walk home 
 with her lover, which was readily acceded to by 
 her aunt. " I trust I shall soon have the plea- 
 sure of presenting Mrs Waddell to you," said the 
 Major in a half whisper to Mrs St Clair. 
 
 " Upon my word. Major, you are too bad," 
 said his fair, affecting to turn away in displea- 
 sure. 
 
 " Have you bespoke your cousin''s good offi- 
 ces on the occasion, my love .^" asked the inamo- 
 rato, in still softer accents. 
 
 " No^I really, Major — you know there is no 
 hurry -^ " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I know just the re- 
 verse," replied the gallant Major ; but Mrs St 
 Clair, sick of their vulgar airs, here wished the 
 happy pair good morning ; and making a sign to 
 the servant, the carriage bounded away, leaving 
 them far behind. Gertrude naturally expected 
 that her mother would now give some explanation 
 of the strange mysterious scene that had taken
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 219 
 
 place, though she had too much delicacy to ex- 
 press any curiosity on the subject ; but Mrs St 
 Clair remained silent and abstracted during the 
 whole drive, and was only roused from her mus- 
 ings by the sudden stopping of the carriage, as it 
 drew up at the castle. 
 
 " Home already !'*'' exclaimed she, looking 
 round as if awakened from a dream — then in a 
 languid oppressed voice, " Gertrude, I am ill 
 — but I want no attentions," waving her off; "they 
 can do me no good."' Colonel Delmour, who had 
 been lounging on the lawn with his dogs, was 
 now hastening towards them. " Gertrude,'"' con- 
 tinued she, grasping her daughter's hand, — " be 
 silent on the events of this day, as you value my 
 life.'''' Gertrude shuddered, but the next moment 
 her hand was pressed in that of Colonel Del- 
 mour, as he assisted her to alight, and her mo- 
 ther's fearful words were almost driven from her 
 thoughts by the raptures he expressed at her re- 
 turn. His words were too delightful not to be lis- 
 tened to, and she loitered a few minutes on the 
 steps. " Is it possible," thought she, as she looked 
 on her lover, " that this elegant, graceful being 
 can belong to the same species with an uncle
 
 THE INHERrXANCE. 
 
 Adam, or a Major Waddell !" Colonel Delmour 
 saw that he had lost nothing by her absence, and 
 as her mother turned to call her, he ventured to 
 whisper somewhat of a more serious import than 
 he had yet done; — Gertrude blushed, smiled, 
 and was gone.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 221 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 What silence hides, that knowest thou. 
 
 Dante. 
 
 On joining her mother in her apartment, Ger- 
 trude found her walking to and fro in that man- 
 ner which plainly indicates great mental disquiet. 
 She continued to pace backwards and forwards 
 for some time, as if lost in thought, then sudden- 
 ly stopping, she said, somewhat abruptly — " Ger- 
 trude, do you remember your nurse ?'" 
 
 " Ah ! mama, can I ever forget her !" rephed 
 her daughter, tears springing to her eyes at the 
 remembrance of all the care and tenderness she 
 had experienced for years from the faithful crea- 
 ture. 
 
 " Yes, I know you were very fond of her, and 
 she of you. Well, the stranger who caused me so 
 great an alarm to-day — was her husband." 
 
 " Her husband, mama !'' repeated Gertrude.
 
 222 THE IXHERITANCE. 
 
 " I thought he had been dead many years 
 ago ?-" 
 
 " I thought so too ; but unfortunately it is not 
 so — I say unfortunately, for he is likely to prove 
 a troublesome appendage to us — -those sort of 
 people are always unreasonable ; and he seems 
 to think his wife's care and attention to you, and 
 her long services in the family, give him a claim 
 upon our gratitude, which I fear I shall not find 
 easy to answer. In short, he seems a needy ra- 
 pacious man, urgent for money, which I have not 
 to give, and yet am loth to refuse." 
 
 " It is certainly my duty to do something for 
 him, mama,"" answered her daughter ; " but, 
 you know, I have nothing in my own power — all 
 I can do is to speak to my uncle for him " 
 
 " No, no," cried Mrs St Clair, impatiently, 
 " that will never do ;"" and she resumed her pac- 
 ing up and down. 
 
 " Why may I not ask Lord Rossville to assist 
 him, mama ?" inquired Gertrude, in some sur- 
 prise. '' Surely the husband of my nurse, of one 
 whom I loved so dearly, has a right to expect 
 something from us ?" 
 
 " Something — yes, something — but what is 
 11
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 that something to be r — How much money have 
 you got at present, Gertrude ?^' 
 
 Her daughter named the sum, which was a 
 very trifling one. " Good heavens ! what shall 
 I do !" exclaimed her mother, with the look and 
 accent of despair ; " how shall I ever be able to 
 raise a sufficient sum— ^ 
 
 '^ Dear mama ! why should you distress your- 
 self so much about it ? — only suffer me to speak 
 to my uncle." 
 
 " Gertrude, you will drive me mad — ^have I 
 not told you that it would be destruction to me 
 to breathe a syllable of this matter to any human 
 being .^*' 
 
 " Destruction, mama !"' repeated her daughter 
 in astonishment, not unmixed with terror at her 
 mother's vehemence. 
 
 " Bring me what money you have — every sous, 
 and no questions — you will perhaps know all soon 
 enough,'' murmured she, throwing herself into a 
 chair, as if exhausted with the violence of con- 
 tending emotions ; then rousing herself as her 
 daughter was leaving the room to obey her,— ■ 
 " and fetch me your ornaments, Gertrude — all 
 of them — quick, no more words ;" — and she waved
 
 224 
 
 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 her hand impatiently for her to be gone. Ger- 
 trude was too well acquainted with her mother's 
 imperious manner to attempt any remonstrance, 
 but she could not conceal the astonishment and 
 reluctance with which she set about obeying her. 
 Having collected all the money and the few jewels 
 she possessed, she brought them to her mother. 
 
 " Surely, mama," said she, " it cannot be ne- 
 cessary for me to give my ear-rings and bracelets 
 to my nurse's husband ? The money he is welcome 
 to, but really I am churlish enough to grudge 
 him my trinkets." 
 
 " Keep them, then," said Mrs St Clair, push- 
 ing them from her with contempt — " keep the 
 paltry baubles, since it is too great a sacrifice to 
 part with them even to a parent." 
 
 " O, mama, what cruel words ! — I spoke in jest 
 — take them — take all — every thing that I have;" 
 and she drew the rings off her fingers, and un- 
 clasped those in her ears. 
 
 " No, no," «aid her mother, in the same cold 
 
 bitter tone, " keep your precious gewgaws — you 
 
 surely would not give your pearl necklace to save 
 
 me from ruin.? — that would be too much, indeed !" 
 
 Mrs St Clair well knew how to turn to her
 
 CHAPTEK XX. 225 
 
 own purposes the quick generous temper of her 
 daughter. 
 
 Stung to the soul by her mother's reproaches, 
 Gertrude burst into tears ; she besought her for- 
 giveness — she implored her to take the baubles, 
 till at length she prevailed, and what Gertrude 
 would, in other circumstances, have considered a 
 sacrifice, she now looked upon as a privilege ; — so 
 differently do things appear, according to the state 
 of our minds. 
 
 "To show that I do not exact more from you 
 than I do from myself," said ]\Irs St Clair, going 
 to her jewel-case, " I too must part with all I pos- 
 sess f and she took out all her own ornaments, 
 and began putting them up along with those of 
 her daughter. Gertrude assisted with a good 
 grace, for she was still in a state of excitement. 
 She saw all her elegant and fashionable bijouterie 
 — all the cherished tokens of remembrance — all 
 the little gifts she had received from far distant 
 friends and companions, one by one, folded up, 
 and she still felt only joy in the thought that she 
 had parted with them for her mother ; but she 
 could not suppress a sigh when she came to an 
 old-fashioned hair-brooch, in the form of a heart, 
 
 VOL. 1. p
 
 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 set round with garnets — " That was the gift of 
 my dear nurse,"" said she timidly, " and she made 
 me promise that I never " 
 
 " Would part with it,'" subjoined Mrs St Clair. 
 " Well, keep your promise and your locket, Ger- 
 trude, it is of little value — it can make no differ- 
 ence — surely he would not grudge you that.""' 
 
 " He !" repeated Gertrude indignantly — " it is 
 not for him, it is for you — but why?'" — she stop- 
 ped, and looked inquiringly in her mother"s face. 
 
 " Gertrude, it is natural that your curiosity 
 should be excited by what you have seen and 
 heard, and the time may come — perhaps too soon, 
 when it will be amply gratified — but when it is, 
 I tell you that it will — it must be at the expence 
 of my life. — Now speak — ask what you will, 
 and I will answer you, but it must be on these 
 terms."" 
 
 '' Oh ! mama, what a wretch you must think 
 me,"" said Gertrude, again giving way to her 
 tears — " headstrong — perverse — disobedient — 
 you may have found me, but surely I do not de- 
 serve such killing words. Would that I could 
 share in your distresses, whatever they are, if by 
 sharing I could lessen them.""
 
 CHArTER XX. 227 
 
 Mrs St Clair shook her head, and sighed deep- 
 ly. " I believe you, Gertrude — I know you are 
 superior to the meanness of mere curiosity, and 
 I think I may rely on your affection — may I 
 
 not 'r 
 
 Her daughter answered by throwing herself 
 into her mother's arms, and ]\Irs St Clair pressed 
 her to her bosom with emotions of tenderness and 
 affection, such as she had never before displayed. 
 When she regained her composure, she said, — 
 
 " Now, my love, we understand each other; 
 you are aware that my reserve proceeds from no 
 distrust of you. I feel that your forbearance is 
 the result of your affection for me — henceforth all 
 that you have to do is to prove your sincerity by 
 your silence. You have only to promise that you 
 will never disclose what you have witnessed, or 
 what you may yet witness, in my conduct that may 
 seem strange and mysterious, and that you will 
 never reveal what I have now told you about that 
 man — neither his name, nor his connection with 
 us, must you ever breathe, as you value my life." 
 
 Gertrude promised — solemnly promised, and 
 her mother again tenderly embraced her, declar- 
 ing herself satisfied.
 
 2S8 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " You know not what a load it takes from my 
 mind to find you thus prudent, tractable, and con- 
 fiding — with feeling enough to participate in my 
 vexations — with delicacy to repress all idle curio- 
 sity — with affection to assist me in my difficulties 
 — May Heaven reward you, Gertrude, for all you 
 have done and will do for me ! And now," con- 
 tinued she, as she finished the packet she had been 
 making up, " I am going to give you a yet stronger 
 proof of the trust I place in you. This packet 
 must be delivered to-night to the person for whom 
 it is destined. I have promised to meet him at 
 the temple, near the end of the lime avenue, next 
 the deer-park, at eleven o'clock, and you must ac- 
 company me — the family will then be at supper — 
 I shall plead a headache — alas ! no vain pretext i"*" 
 and she pressed her daughter's hand to her 
 throbbing temples, — " as an excuse for retiring to 
 my room — you will of course attend me, and we 
 shall then find no difficulty in stealing out un- 
 perceived. I know all you would say, Gertrude,'' 
 continued she, in a quick impatient tone, as she 
 read her daughter's disapprobation in the glow 
 that mantled on her cheek ; " but there is no al- 
 ternative — it rrnist be so — yet if you repent your
 
 CHAPTER XX. 829 
 
 promise, I am ready to release you from it, though 
 my ruin should ensue — Speak, do you wish to be 
 free ?" 
 
 Gertrude could not speak, but she gave her 
 mother her hand in token of her submission, then 
 turned shuddering away. Her mother again ca- 
 ressed her. 
 
 " Be composed, my love — all will yet go well — 
 let us dress for dinner,'' continued she, as her 
 maid entered for the purpose of preparing her toi- 
 lette. Then whispering, " Try to look cheerful, 
 my love — remember looks may betray a secret as 
 well as words : put some flowers in your hair, and 
 make yourself at least look gay for my sake — do, 
 my sweetest !'' 
 
 Gertrude sighed, and they separated.
 
 230 THI-: INHERITANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Plus sonat quam valet. 
 
 More sound than sense. 
 
 Seneca. 
 
 It would have argued ill for Gertrude, if she 
 could have obeyed her mother's injunctions, and 
 looked the thing she was not. Time and suffer- 
 ing may teach us to repress our feelings ; but the 
 young "and untried heart can with difficulty learn 
 to conceal them. The most ingenuous and up- 
 right mind may practise self-control; but it is 
 only the artful and the mean who will ever stoop 
 to dissimulation. Agitated and perplexed, in vain 
 she strove to appear tranquil and disengaged — 
 the very attempt served only to defeat the pur- 
 pose — the more she thought of her mother's 
 strange mysterious behaviour — and of what else 
 could she think ? — the more bewildered she be- 
 came in the maze of her own fancy ; till at length,
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 231 
 
 despairing of regaining self-possession from her 
 own secret communings, slie hastened to seek it 
 in company, and, quickly dressing herself, she de- 
 scended to the drawing-room. 
 
 It required no great share of penetration to dis- 
 cover that something more than common was pass- 
 ing in her mind — her varying colour — her cloud- 
 ed brow — her thoughtful yet wandering eye, so 
 different from the usual open, bland expression of 
 her countenance, plainly indicated the state of her 
 feelings. 
 
 Lord Rossville, T\Ir Delmour, and Mrs St 
 Clair, were at the farther end of the room in ear- 
 nest conversation. She was giving such an ac- 
 count of her visit to Mr Ramsay, and her meet- 
 ing with Major Waddell, as suited her own pur- 
 poses ; and she dilated so much upon the difficul- 
 ties and importance of their votes, and the ma- 
 nagement that would be requisite to secure them, 
 that she at last succeeded (no very difficult mat- 
 ter) in completely mistifying, at least, one of her 
 auditors. In short, she convinced Lord Ross- 
 ville, and almost persuaded his nephew, that the 
 whole issue of the election depended upon her and 
 her family.
 
 232 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " I have a strange headstrong set of beings to 
 deal with,'' said she ; " but, I think, with a little 
 address and a good deal of attention, we shall 
 prevail at last." 
 
 " On such an occasion," said his Lordship, 
 " neither ought to be wanting, my dear Madam. 
 I flatter myself we are none of us deficient in the 
 former qualification, and the latter depends entire- 
 ly upon ourselves. To-morrow, Mr Delmour and 
 I shall make a point of waiting upon such of 
 your relatives and connections as" — Mr Delmour 
 here took out his memorandum-book, and began 
 to write down the names of Major Waddell, Mr 
 Ramsay, and Mr Black, in his list for the follow- 
 ing day. " I wish we could secure your uncle," 
 said he to Mrs St Clair ; — then turning to Lord 
 Rossville, — " I find he is the purchaser of the 
 superiorities of Deaf knows, which, with Tong- 
 lands and Kilspindie, might, with ease, be split 
 certainly into four ; but I think, probably, into 
 five qualifications ; these on our side would make 
 it quite a hollow business — Don't you think 
 so .^" 
 
 " AVhy, in all human probability, it would," 
 replied his Lordship ; — '^ at the same time, we
 
 CHAPTEil XXI. 23S 
 
 must be cautious how we admit or miistake mere 
 probabilities for absolute certainties — in all such 
 cases there must ever be contingencies, which it is 
 impossible, or, at least, extremely difficult to fore- 
 see or guard against. It is a matter of doubt with 
 me, whether Mr Ramsay has yet been infeft in 
 these lands of Kindyford and Caulfauld, and 
 whether there is not a wadset on the lands of Ogil- 
 face and Haggiescape ? In all likelihood, our op- 
 ponents are using every means to bring some such 
 corps de reserve into the field. Also, I under- 
 stand, there were two new claims preferred for en- 
 rolment on the lands of Stony kirk and Kilnettles 
 at the last meeting of freeholders ; and we may 
 reasonably conclude, tliat the roll will be still far- 
 ther augmented by the adverse party — that is, if 
 it is possible for them to do so." 
 
 While this colloquy, and much more of the 
 same kind, was carrying on at one end of the room, 
 the other presented Lady Betty, spread out in 
 full dress on a sofa, with Flora by her side, and 
 Colonel Delmour and Mr Lyndsay at a little dis- 
 tance, engaged in some debate. Gertrude, on en- 
 tering, almost unconsciously seated herself at one 
 of the windows, apart from every body ; but she
 
 234 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 was immediately joined by her cousins. Colonel 
 Delmour remarked, with secret satisfaction, the 
 agitation of her look and manner. He imputed 
 it entirely to the declaration he had ventured to 
 make, which he thought had probably given rise 
 to some discussion betwixt her mother and her, 
 and which he had no doubt would end, as all such 
 discussions between mother and daughter gene- 
 rally do, in favour of the lover. 
 
 But this was not precisely the time when he 
 wished his pretensions to be publicly known — and 
 he was rather desirous that Miss St Clair's emo- 
 tion should pass unobserved. 
 
 Colonel Delmour's manner, however, although 
 guarded and respectful, nevertheless carried with 
 it that nameless something which made even the 
 object of his professed idolatry feel he had gain- 
 ed an ascendancy over her, and that the worship- 
 ped was also the worshipper. While he leant on 
 the back of her chair, Mr Lyndsay once or twice 
 addressed some remark to her, but, absent and oc- 
 cupied, she scarcely seemed to hear him. 
 
 " Is it to-day that you would have me be- 
 gin to sketch your portrait ?"' said he, with a 
 smile.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 235 
 
 " No — not to-day,"' replied she, in some con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " And why not ? To paint from nature, one 
 must take nature in all her various moods and 
 aspects.'" 
 
 " But I don't love stormy cloudy pictures," 
 said Gertrude with a sigh. 
 
 Colonel Delmour looked reproachfully at her, 
 as he whispered, " Strange, that this day, which 
 has been the brightest in my life, should seem 
 cloudy to you. — Ah, Gertrude ! vvhy do we not 
 view it with the same eyes .^" 
 
 Gertrude blushed deeply, but remained silent. 
 
 " What o'clock is it .^" inquired Lady Betty. 
 
 " Seven minutes to six," said Miss Pratt, as 
 she entered, and tripping past Lady Betty, 
 joined the groupe in the window. " Any 
 thing new going on here ? — It's changed days 
 with you. Colonel, to be in the drawing-room 
 before dinner — we seldom used to see you till 
 the first course was going away." Survey- 
 ing Gertrude from head to foot, " What's come 
 over you to-day, my dear.^ You're not look- 
 ing like yourself. — I think you've got too many 
 of these passion-flowers in your head. — Mr Ed-
 
 236 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ward, you must not take your cousin's picture to- 
 day, or else she must part with some of these 
 passion-flowers — I really don't think they're be- 
 coming — -just let me take out that one " and 
 
 she was preparing to lay her hands upon it, when 
 her's were seized by Colonel Delmour. 
 
 " Bless me, Colonel, don't be so violent ; I'm 
 sure I wasn't going to take off" Miss St Clair's 
 head ; — they may well be called passion-flowers, 
 for they really seem to have put you in a fine 
 passion — and you've crumpled all my ruff", and 
 squeezed one of my fingers to the bone." 
 
 Colonel Delmour, colouring a little at the trans- 
 port of indignation he had given way to, affected 
 to laugh it off*, and, releasing Miss Pratt's hands 
 from his grasp, said in a loud whisper, — 
 
 " I beg pardon if, in the ardour of my passion, 
 I did press your hands too — too tenderly — im- 
 pute the blame " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, Colonel Del- 
 mour," cried Miss Pratt aloud, as she stroked down 
 her ruff" and caressed her injured finger, with eveiy 
 appearance of ill humour ; " but I know you've 
 left your marks upon me in a pretty manner. 
 I didn't know Miss St Clair's head had been your
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 237 
 
 property, or, I assure you, I wouldn't have offer- 
 ed to touch it — but I know if she's wise, she'll 
 take care how she trusts you with her hand, after 
 seeing how you've used mine," and she held up a 
 red angry-looking finger, and shook her ruff — 
 "and only look at my ruff!" 
 
 " What's the matter with your ruff?" asked 
 Lady Betty ; " it looks very neat, I think." 
 
 " Neat ! it was more than neat, but Colonel 
 Delmour has spoil'd the seat of it, and I'll have to 
 get it all goffered over again." 
 
 " By-the-bye, Miss Pratt," said Colonel Del- 
 mour, '' since you denounce me as the destroyer 
 of your ruff — it is a deed for which I think I merit 
 the thanks of all pious, well-disposed persons in 
 general, and of the kirk-session in particular. I 
 read a history of ruffs t'other day, which harrow- 
 ed up my soul, and made my young blood to 
 freeze. I assure you, ever since I have been ini- 
 tiated into the shocking mysteries of ruff-making, 
 Hamlet's horror at sight of his father's ghost has 
 been nothing compared to mine, when I behold 
 a stiff well-appointed ruff, so completely is it as- 
 sociated, in my mind's eye, with hoofs and horns, 
 blackness and brimstone;" — then going to the li-
 
 ^38 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 brary, he presently returned with an ancient fo- 
 lio in his hand, and, turning over the leaves, he 
 read as follows, with an air of ludicrous horror 
 and dismay : '' The Anatomic of Abuses, con- 
 taining a Discoverie or brief Summarie of such 
 Notable Vices and Imperfections as now raigne 
 in many Counteries of the World, &c. &c. &c. 
 By Phillip Stubbes, 1583. 
 
 <•« They have greate and monsterous 
 
 ruffes, made either of cambricke, lawne, or els of 
 some other of the finest cloth that can be got for 
 monie, whereof some be a quarter of a yarde deepe, 
 yea, some more, very fewe lesse : So that they 
 stande a fulle quarter of a yarde (and more) from 
 their neckes, hanging over their shoulder pointes 
 instcade of a vaile. But wot ye what ? the dei^dll, 
 as he, in the ftiUnesse of his malice, first invented 
 these greate ruffes, so hath he now found out also 
 two greate pillars to beare up and maintaine 
 this his kingdome of pride withal. The one 
 arche or pillar, where bye his kingdom of greate 
 ruffes is under propped, is a certain kinde of li- 
 quide matter which they call starch, wherein 
 the deivill hath willed them to washe and to drie 
 their ruffes well, which being drie, will then stand
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 239 
 
 stifFe and inflexible - aboute their neckes. The 
 other pillar is a certaine device made of wiers 
 crested for the purpose, whipped either over with 
 golde thred, silver, or silke, and this he calleth 
 a underpropper. Beyond all this, theye have a 
 farther fetche, nothynge inferior to the reste, as 
 namely, three or four decrees of minor ruffes 
 placed in gradatim, one beneathe another, and all 
 under the Mayster Dei\dll Ruffe. Sometimes 
 they are " 
 
 " Such nonsense !" exclaimed Miss Pratt. " I 
 really never heard the like of it. I wonder how 
 you have patience to listen to it, Lady Betty. I 
 really think Miss St Clair might show more sense 
 than to laugh at such ridiculous stuff. There's 
 the gong, that's better worth attending to ;'' and 
 away walked Miss Pratt and her ruff. 
 
 The politicians were also roused at the sound ; 
 and as they broke up, Mrs St Clair said to Lord 
 Rossville, — 
 
 " Rest assured, my Lord, nothing shall be 
 wanting on my part to gain the suffrages of my 
 family ; and I have little doubt of accomplishing 
 it, since your Lordship has thus kindly and con- 
 siderately given me a carte blanche^ as it were,
 
 240 THE IXHEKITANCE. 
 
 for my actions upon the occasion. I feel most 
 deeply the value of the confidence you have thus 
 reposed in me." 
 
 Lord Rossville had done no such thing, as give 
 or dream of giving Mrs St Clair a carte blanche 
 for her actions ; — but he loved to hear himself 
 commended, whether for what he had done, or 
 for what he had not done ; and he therefore al- 
 lowed it to pass, in the belief that he was indeed 
 all that was kind, wise, and considerate. Ger- 
 trude, as a matter of course, was again placed 
 between Lord Rossville and Mr Delmour, and 
 condemned, during a tedious dinner, to hear the 
 same political jargon carried on. Mr Delmour 
 now and then changed the conversation, indeed, 
 out of compliment to her, and talked of the views, 
 the weather, the races, and such subjects as he 
 seemed to think suited to a female capacity ; but 
 it was evidently an effort to descend to such 
 things, and Gertrude felt only provoked that he 
 should even attempt to be agreeable. 
 
 When they rose from table, her mother made 
 a sign for her to follow her to her own room. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER xxri. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 — — NewT in my breast 
 
 Did ignorance so struggle with desire 
 
 Of knowledge, 
 
 As in that moment ; nor — dar'd I 
 
 To question, nor myself could aught discern. 
 
 Gary's Danle. 
 
 " You are a poor dissembler, Gertrude,'" said 
 Mrs St Clair, after having sliut the door of her 
 chamber, and carefully examined each lurking re- 
 cess — " your looks have already betrayed to the 
 family that something is wrong — even stupid 
 Lady Betty asked me at dinner whether you were 
 well enough. It is, therefore, obvious you are 
 suffering either from mental disquiet or bodily in- 
 disposition, and it must be your part to play the 
 invalid this evening/"' Then seeing her daughter 
 about to express her dislike of the deception, " It 
 is easily done — you have only to remain here, and 
 leave it to me to account for your absence in the 
 
 VOL. 1. ft
 
 24^2 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 drawing-room ;'' — then, with a profound sigh, 
 " the headache and the heartache are both mine, 
 God knows ! but if you will only affect to bear 
 the one for me, you will assuredly alleviate the 
 other." 
 
 Gertrude felt that she was become a mere tool 
 in her mother's hands, and that it was in vain to 
 contend. She therefore yielded a passive assent 
 to remaining a prisoner for the rest of the even- 
 ing. 
 
 Various were the conjectures, and numberless 
 the remedies, called forth by Mrs St Clair''s com- 
 munication of her daughter's indisposition. The 
 heat of the day — the drive — the roads — the dust 
 — the diimer — Uncle Adam and his airless room, 
 all these, and many more, were each assigned as 
 a sufficient cause for headache, and eau de Cou- 
 logne, aromatic vinegar, and all the thousand 
 perfumed specifics, down to Lady Betty's home- 
 made double-distilled lavender water, were re- 
 commended and accepted. As for Lord Ross- 
 ville, he made it quite a matter of life and death, 
 ■ — ^A fever commonly began with a headache — 
 was there any disposition to shivering on the part 
 of the patient ? — any thirst — any ^er — any bile
 
 CHAPTEIl XXII. 24^ 
 
 — how were the eyes — how was the tongue — 
 how was the pulse ? — A little blood taken in time 
 was perhaps the most effectual antidote — He 
 possessed some knowledge of medicine himself— 
 and, in short, Mrs St Clair only prevented him 
 from going to prescribe for his niece in person, by 
 assuring him that she felt a great disposition to 
 sleep, and had requested that she might not be 
 disturbed. It was therefore finally settled, that 
 if Miss St Clair was no better by to-morrow 
 morning, she was then to be given up to his 
 Lordship's direction. 
 
 Colonel Delmour suspected there was some de- 
 ception in the case, and was at no loss, as he 
 thought, to fatliom the mystery. He believed 
 their mutual attachment had been discovered by 
 Mrs St Clair, and that Gertrude was suffering 
 persecution on his account ; but he felt little ap- 
 prehension as to the result ; he knew enough of 
 human nature to be aware, that, to a romantic 
 ardent nature such as hers, a little opposition 
 would have rather a good effect, and that there is 
 sometimes no surer way of creating an interest in 
 one party than by exciting a prejudice in an- 
 other.
 
 244 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 Meanwhile, the object of all this solicitude sat 
 at her window, " watching the coming on of grate- 
 ful evening mild.""' It was at that lovely season 
 when day and night are so imperceptibly blended 
 into each other, that night seems only a softer, 
 sweeter day. There were none of those magnifi- 
 cent masses of clouds which, in this climate, ge- 
 nerally form the pomp and circumstance of a fine 
 sunset. The sky was cloudless and serene, and 
 a soft, silvery moon shone in one quarter of the 
 heavens, while the mellow golden lustre of the 
 sun gradually melted away in the other. 
 
 *' When the last sunshine, with expiring ray. 
 In Summer twilight weeps tlie close of day. 
 Who hath not felt the softness of that hour 
 Steal o'er his heart like dew-drops on the flower?" 
 
 Then came the deeper blue of the silent night, 
 with her " solemn bird and glittering stars." 
 
 But Gertrude was withdrawn from the con- 
 templation of these consecrated things by the en- 
 trance of her mother. She threw herself on a 
 chair and sighed heavily — then starting up — 
 
 " Prepare yourself, Gertrude; in a few minutes 
 we must set forth ; — fetch your green travelling
 
 tHAPTEK XXII. 245 
 
 cloak, it will completely cover your dress, and 
 conceal your figure, should we unfortunately 
 meet any one, which Heaven forbid !"" 
 
 Gertrude brought her cloak, and did as she 
 was directed, while her mother wrapt herself in a 
 similar disguise, and both awaited in trembhng ex- 
 pectation the signal for sallying forth. At length 
 the gong sounded — voices were heard as the fa- 
 mily passed through the hall to the supper-room 
 — the doors were shut, and all was silent. 
 
 " Now is the time," said Mrs St Clair, in a 
 voice almost inarticulate from agitation. " Yet 
 stay — should it by any unforeseen mischance ever 
 reach Lord Rossville's ears, that we were seen 
 leaving the house together at such an hour — no, 
 that will never do — Gertrude, you must go first, 
 and I will follow." 
 
 " O no, no !" cried her daughter, turning pale 
 with terror ; " why should that be — surely that 
 can make no difference .^" 
 
 " No difference in reality, but much in appear- 
 ance," said Mrs St Clair, impatiently. " Your 
 stealing out to take a ramble by moonlight, how- 
 ever silly, would not sound very improbable, and 
 my following youVould be perfectly natural ; but
 
 246 THE INHEUITANCE. 
 
 both going out together is quite unaccountable, 
 and must not be — go — make haste." 
 
 " Oh mama ! — do not — I beseech you, do not 
 ask me to go alone. I cannot — indeed, I can- 
 not f ' and she sank upon a chair. 
 
 " Ridiculous !'' exclaimed her mother;, in a 
 tone of suppressed anger ; "of what are you 
 afraid.?" 
 
 " I know not — I cannot tell. I am going I 
 know not where — to meet — I know not whom — 
 and at midnight. No, I cannot — I icill not go;" 
 and she threw back her cloak, and shook off her 
 hat, with gestures of impatience and indignation. 
 
 " Obstinate — unfeeling — ungrateful wretch !" 
 exclaimed Mrs St Clair, giving way to her pas- 
 sion; " is it for you that T suffer — that I — why do 
 I not give you up to your fate at once — why — 
 but I will be obeyed. I command you on your 
 peril to obey me." 
 
 Gertrude threw herself on the floor at her mo- 
 ther's feet. " Kill me — trample on me," cried 
 she, in an accent of despair ; " but my soul re- 
 volts from these mysteries. Oh ! my mother !" 
 continued she in broken accents, " is it you who 
 command me thus to steal from my uncle's house
 
 CHAPTER xxir. 247 
 
 at midnight — disguised and alone — to meet a 
 low-born — needy desperate man ?" 
 
 Mrs St Clair remained silent for a few mo- 
 ments,, as if struggling with her feelings ; she then 
 spoke in a voice of umiatural calmness — 
 
 " Be it so. — My entreaties — my prayers — my 
 commands are in vain — the die is cast by your 
 hand, and my doom is fixed. I told you that my 
 life depended upon your unreserved obedience — 
 and the forfeit shall be paid.'" 
 
 Gertrude looked on her mother's face — every 
 feature was convulsed with powerful and fearful 
 emotion — then every idea vanished but that of 
 her mother dying — dead — and she the cause. All 
 personal fear — all lofty feeling fled: the right 
 chord was touched, and her whole frame vibrated 
 with emotion. She clung to her mother's knees 
 — she sued for pardon — she vowed the most im- 
 plicit obedience — the most devoted submission to 
 her will — she called Heaven to witness that 
 henceforth she would do all that was required of 
 her — she prayed that she might be tried once, 
 only once more. She spoke with all the ardour 
 and sincerity of powerful emotion, but it is not 
 with a throbbing heart and a burning brow the
 
 248 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 mastery is obtained — if vows made in pain are 
 void, those formed under the influence of excited 
 feeling are no less vain and fleeting. Mrs St 
 Clair's features gradually relaxed, and, in a more 
 natural voice, she said — 
 
 ' ' I forgive you, Gertrude — I forgive your doubts, 
 your fears, however injurious to me. — Go, then — 
 but ere you go, reflect on what you have undertak- 
 en — remember you have vowed unqualified obe- 
 dience — there is now no middle course — ^you are 
 either my preserver or my destroyer" — she pour- 
 ed out a glass of water, and held it to her daugh- 
 ter's trembling lips. — " Now, listen to my instruc- 
 tions : — Glide quickly and softly along till you 
 reach the south turret stair — be cautious in de- 
 scending it, and making your way along the old 
 passage to the west door, which is seldom locked 
 — when there, you have only to cross the lawn 
 — keep by the river side, and wait me at the ivy 
 bridge — fear nothing — I will follow you immedi- 
 ately.'' 
 
 Gertrude again mufiled herself in her cloak, and, 
 with a beating heart, went on her way as fast as 
 terror and agitation would permit. She groped 
 her way down the little turnpike-stair, and along
 
 CHAl TEK XXII. 249 
 
 a dark passage, in an old part of the house, to a 
 door which opened upon the lawn. But there all 
 things stood disclosed in the light of a full moon, 
 and calm, cloudless sky, and her heart almost 
 failed her as she marked her own dark shapeless 
 shadow stealing along on the silvery path. She 
 soon gained the bank of the river, and there, in 
 the deep shade of the rocks and trees, she felt se- 
 cure, at least from discovery, if not from danger. 
 A few steps more and she reached the bridge, 
 where she was to await her mother. 
 
 At another time she would have been charmed 
 with the romantic loveliness and grandeur of the 
 scene. — Rocks, trees, and waterfall, all gleamed 
 in the pale pellucid light — not a leaf was stirring, 
 and the solemn stillness was only broken by the 
 rushing of the river, and the whooping of the 
 owls. But to enjoy the tranquillity of nature, 
 requires that there should be some sympathy be- 
 tween the mind and the scene ; and Gertrude's 
 feehngs were but little in unison with the calm, 
 the holy majesty of moon-light. Scarcely daring 
 to breathe, every instant seemed an age, till she 
 beheld her mother advance with a quick but agi- 
 tated step.
 
 250 THE INHERITAXCE. 
 
 *' We are late,'' said she in a low tone ; "let 
 us make haste ;"' and taking her daughter's arm, 
 they proceeded together in silence for a consi- 
 derable distance till they came within sight of a 
 temple situated on the summit of the bank, 
 
 "It was there I appointed to meet him," 
 said Mrs St Clair ; and as she spoke, the figure 
 of a man was seen approaching towards them. — 
 " Wait here, Gertrude," cried she, waving her 
 daughter back, as she would have clung to her. 
 " I shall be within sight and call of you. Do 
 not stir from hence, and remember your pro- 
 mise." 
 
 And disengaging herself from her, she hastily 
 advanced to meet the stranger. It was not in 
 human nature not to have felt the most intense 
 curiosity at this moment ; and Gertrude cer- 
 tainly experienced it in no common degree, 
 when she beheld her mother's meeting with this 
 mysterious man. Although beyond the reach of 
 hearing what passed, their gestures told a tale of 
 no common import. After remaining a few mi- 
 nutes in deep and earnest conversation, she saw 
 Mrs St Clair offer him a packet, which she 
 guessed was the one containing the money and
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 251 
 
 jewels. She then saw the person reject it, as if 
 with scorn, and even turn away from it, as Mrs 
 St Clair seemed to press it upon him. This 
 dumb show lasted some minutes, till at length 
 he snatched it from the hand she held out to 
 him, and threw it upon the ground, and made 
 some steps towards the place where Gertrude 
 stood. Mrs St Clair caught him by the arm ; 
 she seemed to be arguing, imploring, suppli- 
 cating. Now she clasped her hands, as if in an 
 agony ; then she ra'.sed them, as if in solemn 
 appeal to Heaven, and Gertrude caught the 
 sound of her voice, in tones of the deepest an- 
 guish. At length she seemed to prevail. Having 
 herself lifted up the packet he had so contemp- 
 tuously cast away, she again offered it to him, 
 and it was accepted. They now advanced to- 
 gether till within a few paces of Gertrude, when 
 Mrs St Clair quitted her companion and ap- 
 proached her daughter. The shade of the trees 
 covered her face, but her voice was expressive of 
 the utmost agitation. 
 
 '' Gertrude, my love," said she in a low tone, 
 *' Lewiston wishes to see you, to talk with you, 
 — as the husband of your nurse, and a sort of
 
 252 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 jconfidential person in the family, he thinks he 
 has a right to address you in his own way. I dare 
 not refuse, Gertrude — he will converse with you 
 alone." 
 
 Mrs St Clair placed her hand on her daughter's 
 lips, as she saw an indignant reflisal ready to burst 
 forth— 
 
 " Oh, Gertrude ! dearest Gertrude ! as you va- 
 lue my life, as you value your own happiness, do 
 not refiise — do not provoke him. — I am in his 
 power — one hasty word, one contemptuous look, 
 may undo me. Oh, Gertrude ! for the love you 
 bear to me — for the love you bore your nurse — 
 for the love of Heaven — be calm and patient. 
 Speak — tell me I may trust you ?"' 
 
 And she led her a few steps towards the 
 stranger. Gertrude started with terror, as the 
 moon-beams now fell on her mother's face, and 
 showed it wild, and even ghastly, from excessive 
 emotion. 
 
 " Compose yourself, mama," said she; '' I will 
 do — I will be all you desire." 
 
 There was no time for more, for the sti-angcr, as 
 if impatient of delay, had now joined them — lie 
 held out his hand to Gertrude with an air of fami-
 
 CHAPTKil XX I r. 253 
 
 liarity, which at once roused her indignation, and 
 had ahnost thrown her oiF her guard, when a look 
 from her mother subdued her. With a blush of 
 wounded pride, she suffered him to take it, and 
 Mrs St Clair walked apart. He surveyed her for 
 some minutes without speaking, while her cheek 
 burned, and her heart swelled at the indignity to 
 which she was thus subjected. At length, he said 
 abruptly — 
 
 '' Do you remember your nurse ?^' 
 
 *' Perfectly." 
 
 " How old were you when she died P'"* 
 
 " I was nine years old.'' 
 
 " You were very fond of her, were you not ?" 
 
 " I loved her as my mother,'' answered Ger- 
 trude in a voice of deep emotion. 
 
 " That was well — you are aware that I was 
 her husband, consequently, have some claim to a 
 share of your affection. Do you think you will 
 be able to bestow any of it upon me ?"' 
 
 Gertrude's spirit was ready to burst forth at the 
 insolent freedom of this address, but she repress- 
 ed it, and ansvrered coldly — 
 
 " As the husband of my nurse I am willing to
 
 254 THE INHERIT A>^CE. 
 
 assist you as far as I am able, but I have little in 
 my power at present." 
 
 " True — but the time will come when you will 
 have much.''* 
 
 " When I have,'"* answered Gertrude, wishing 
 to end the conference, " the claims of my nurse's 
 husband shall not be forgotten ;" and she was 
 moving away. 
 
 " Stop," cried he, " not so fast — the claims of 
 your nurse's husband are not so easily settled as 
 you seem to suppose. I wish to put a few more 
 questions to you, young lady, before we part : — 
 How am I to be assured that you will ever have 
 it in your power to assist me in the world .?" 
 
 *' I can give you no assurance," said Gertrude ; 
 " all that I can say is — if ever it is in my power 
 to befriend you, for the sake of your wife, I shall 
 be ready to do it." 
 
 " Only for the sake of my wife !" repeated he 
 with a smile. — " We shall see how that is when 
 the time comes, whether I shall not have some- 
 thing to say with you for my own sake." 
 
 In silent displeasure Gertrude turned proudly 
 away, when he caught her cloak to detain her.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. ^55 
 
 " AVell, we shall settle that afterwards ; but if 
 you play your cards well, you will one day have 
 something in your power, or the deuce is in it. 
 The worst of it is, that day may be a while of 
 coming, and your friends may starve in the mean- 
 time ; but your uncle is a pretty old boy, and you 
 are sure of succeeding.'" 
 
 Gertrude was choking with indignation, but 
 she remembered her promise, and remained si- 
 lent. 
 
 " What are your plans for the future ?'^ de- 
 manded he abruptly. 
 
 " I am not in the habit of communicating my 
 plans to strangers," answered she haughtily. 
 
 " But I have a right to know your plans," 
 said he fiercely; " I insist upon an answer to my 
 question. — AVhat are your plans for the future ?"" 
 
 Gertrude was terrified — " I am ignorant of 
 your meaning,"" said she faintly. 
 
 " I mean, in the event of your uncle's death, 
 what would you do ? — would you marry or remain 
 single i^ — and has your mother attempted to influ- 
 ence you in favour of any body ? — answer me that 
 — does she wish you to marry or not ? — say .'^ 
 
 '* It is impossible for me to answer — I do not
 
 ^56 THK INHElllTAXCE. 
 
 linow — I cannot tell,'' answered Gertrude, almost 
 overcome with the contending emotions of terror 
 and indignation. 
 
 '' Are you sure of that? — is there no Colonel 
 Delmour in the case, ready to swindle the heiress 
 out of her estates ? — but that won't do — you must 
 beware how you entangle yourself there — ^you 
 must beware how you commit yourself — or, by 
 
 Jupiter ! Come, I must know how the land 
 
 lies — I must know how you stand affected to 
 those fortune-hunters, who are looking after you f 
 and he would have taken her hand with an air of 
 famiharity, which now completely threw her off 
 her guard. Uttering a piercing cry, which echoed 
 through the woods, she flew wildly past him, 
 and cast herself into her mother's arms.
 
 CHAPTER Win. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Since in the toils of fate 
 
 Thou art enclos'd, submit, if thou canst brook 
 Submission. 
 
 -^SCHYLUS. 
 
 When Gertrude awoke the following morning 
 from a feverish and disturbed sleep, her mind, 
 like the broken fragments of a mirror, presented 
 only disjointed and distorted images, which 
 she vainly endeavoured to arrange and combine 
 into one connected whole. Hideous dreams were 
 mingled with no less hideous realities, and confu- 
 sion only became worse confounded in the attempt 
 to separate them. At length she opened her 
 eyes, and beheld her mother sitting by her. 
 
 " Oh ! mama," cried she, " speak to me — tell 
 me what has happened — last night — was it— Oh ! 
 was it all a dream ?'''' 
 
 " Compose yourself, Gertrude," answered Mrs 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 258 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 St Clair ; " whatever it was it is now past — think 
 of it no more." 
 
 " Impossible — I can think of nothing else ! — 
 I must know — -I implore you to tell me at least 
 this much — last night — Mr Lyndsay — Oh ! tell 
 me, did he not rescue me from the grasp " 
 
 " Gertrude," interrupted her mother in great 
 agitation, " of what use is it to talk or think 
 of what is past ? — it is distressing to yourself — to 
 me. 
 
 " It was then even so ! — I now remember it 
 all — their high words — their threatening language 
 — and that man ." 
 
 " Hush, Gertrude, hush I" again interposed 
 her mother ; " you know not what you say." 
 
 " Yes — I know it all — he dared to assert that 
 he had a right over me — he^ the husband of my 
 nurse, to dare to claim a right over me !" and her 
 voice was almost choked, at the thoughts of hav- 
 ing been subjected to such an indignity. 
 
 " But, mama, surely this was — this must have 
 been a dream — I know it was," and she gasped as 
 she spoke. " When he appealed to you — you — 
 Oh ! — you said it was so — I know I must have 
 dreamt that,'' and she looked wildly and eagerly
 
 CHAPTER XXII r. 25\) 
 
 in her mother's face ; but Mrs St Clair remained 
 silent. 
 
 " Oh ! you did not — you could not speak of 
 engagements — of entanglements — of — I know not 
 what — yet strange and dreadful words of that im- 
 port still ring in my ears — tell me — only tell me 
 it is all a dream.'' 
 
 " Gertrude, this is agonizing to yourself — to 
 me — repress — in mercy repress those feelings." 
 
 " I will — I will,'' cried her daughter, in in- 
 creasing agitation ; " only say you did not so 
 traduce me, as to sanction the horrible beHef, that 
 I could be so base — so vile — Oh ! how it degrades 
 me even to utter it — as to have plighted myself 
 to a menial." 
 
 " Compose yourself, Gertrude ; I cannot talk^ 
 to you while you are in this state." 
 
 " Well, I will — I am composed," making a 
 violent effort to appear calm, while her frame 
 trembled with the \4olence of her emotion — 
 *' Now, only say, that you, my mother, did not so 
 
 calumniate me but no, you cannot," cried she, 
 
 again giving way to the impetuosity of her feel- 
 ings — " It is no dream — I heard it all — I heard 
 you — you, my mother, assert that man had a
 
 260 THE IKHEIIITANCE. 
 
 claim to me, and — I believe I was mad at the 
 moment — Did I not throw myself at my cousin's 
 feet, and implore him to save me — did I not chng 
 to him in agony, while that man would have torn 
 me from him ?" 
 
 " Gertrude, I would have spared you the re- 
 petition of your folly — your madness — I would 
 have spared you the painful recollection of your 
 broken promise, your injurious distrust of me — 
 I warned you of the consequences of disregarding 
 my injunctions — my entreaties — my commands — 
 but all were disregarded — what right have you, 
 then, to upbraid me for having told you the 
 truth ?" 
 
 " No, you did not tell me the truth — you did 
 not tell me you were leading me to insult — to de- 
 gradation." 
 
 " Say not that I led you — but for your own 
 pride and folly all would have been well — had 
 you remembered my warning, and not provoked 
 the person it was your interest as well as mine 
 to have conciliated — nothing of all this would 
 have happened — but your absurd outcry reached 
 Mr Lyndsay, who unfortunately had been en- 
 ticed by the beauty of the night to take a moon-
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 261 
 
 light ramble, and who hastened to the spot, un- 
 happily at the same moment when the other ad- 
 vanced — ^but the worst is over. Mr Lyndsay is 
 a noble minded honourable man, and we have no- 
 thing to fear from him — he has promised to be for 
 ever silent on the subject.'^ 
 
 " But what — Oh ! what must he think of me!"' 
 exclaimed Gertrude, in an accent of the deepest 
 dejection. 
 
 " Be assured he thinks nothing injurious of 
 you."" 
 
 " Yet that man dared to assert that my father 
 had given him a right to me — he, the husband of 
 my nurse ! — no, I will not — I cannot for an in- 
 stant live under such a sense of degradation — I 
 must seek Mr Lyndsay — I must tell him it is 
 false V And she attempted to rise, but sank 
 back on her pillow overwhelmed with the force of 
 her emotions. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Gertrude, do not give 
 way to these transports !'' cried her mother. 
 " Every thing is now settled — the object of 
 your alarm is already many miles distant — ne- 
 ver more, I trust, to return — why then dwell 
 upon what is past, when it can be productive of
 
 262 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 no good ? Come, my love, for my sake, try to 
 forget it all." 
 
 " Forget it !" repeated Gertrude ; " forget that 
 I have been exposed to insult — to degradation, 
 and by my mother ! — that I never can forget !" 
 
 " No, do not forget it," cried Mrs St Clair, 
 bursting into tears ; " treasure it in your heart's 
 core — let all my love, and care, and tenderness, be 
 forgotten — let your duty — your obedience — your 
 promises, be forgotten — ^but do not forget this one 
 unfortunate action — record it — proclaim it, and 
 then let me end a miserable existence. — Shall I 
 summon Lord Rossville and the family," said she, 
 with affected calmness, putting her hand to the 
 bell, " to hear you denounce your mother ?" 
 
 Time had been when this appeal would have 
 produced its intended effect upon Gertrude ; but 
 her feelings had been already excited to their ut- 
 most, and she felt too wretched herself to have 
 much sympathy to bestow on the author of her 
 wretchedness ; she therefore remained silent. Mrs 
 St Clair repeated the question. 
 
 " I have not deserved this," replied Gertrude 
 coldly ; " but I am still willing to obey you— 
 What would you have me do P"
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 263 
 
 Mrs St Clair embraced her, and would have 
 coaxed and soothed her, — but she shrunk from 
 these demonstrations of affection, and again cold- 
 ly asked what remained for her to do. 
 
 " I would have you appear, if possible, at 
 breakfast, my love ; if you do not. Lord Rossville 
 will insist upon sending for medical advice, and 
 will make a talk and a bustle about you, which 
 may excite speculation and surmise, and any thing 
 of that sort had better be avoided at present; 
 you will, therefore, oblige me, my dearest, if you 
 will endeavour to look and be as much yourself 
 as possible ; and now, I shall leave you to make 
 your toilette, while I change my dress, for I have 
 not been in bed all night. I have watched by you, 
 Gertrude, and that not for the first time." 
 
 Gertrude was touched by this proof of her 
 mother's solicitude, and all the recollected proofs 
 of her maternal anxieties for her in her child- 
 ish days rushed to her heart, and with the re- 
 turning tide brought back something of ten- 
 derer, kindlier feelings. Yielding, as she always 
 did, to the impulse of the moment, she received 
 her mother's embrace, and the scene ended in a 
 reconciliation.
 
 S64 THE INHEHITAXCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 There is no resource where there is no understanding. 
 
 St Therese. 
 
 Mrs St Claib and her daughter descended 
 together to the breakfast-room, but at the thoughts 
 of meeting her cousin after what had so recently 
 occurred, Gertrude's agitation abnost overcame 
 her, and she seated herself at the table without 
 daring to lift her eyes. Many were the inquiries 
 with which she was of course assailed, but Miss 
 Pratt's observations, as usual, predominated. 
 
 " I'm afraid, my dear, there's more than a com- 
 mon headache the matter with you ; you put me 
 very much in mind of Anthony Whyte when he 
 was taking the influenza ; he had just such a lit- 
 tle pink spot on the top of one cheek, and all the 
 rest of his face as white as the table-cloth ; and 
 your eyes, too, seem very heavy, just like his- — 
 he never looked up for two days." The little pink
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 265 
 
 spot had gradually increased with Miss Pratt's re- 
 marks ; but making an effort to look up, Miss St 
 Clair raised her eyes, and encountered not Mr 
 Lyndsay's dreaded gaze, but that of Colonel Del- 
 mour, fixed upon her with anxious scrutiny. 
 Lyndsay was not present, nor was there even a 
 place reserved for him. Miss Pratt seemed to 
 read what was passing in her thoughts. 
 
 " So youVe lost one of your beaux, you see ? 
 Mr Edward went off this morning, it seems ; it 
 must have been a sudden thought, for he said 
 nothing of it yesterday ; and, by the bye, what 
 became of him at supper last night ? I wonder if 
 he had a headache too ? — they say there's a sym- 
 pathy in bodies as well as in minds sometimes ; 
 Colonel Delmour, do you believe that .?'"' 
 
 " I have heard ' there is in souls a sympathy 
 with sounds,' " replied Colonel Delmour, with an 
 ironical contemptuous air ; " but my soul is, I 
 grieve to say, so lost to all that is edifying and de- 
 lightful, it can rarely boast any sympathy with the 
 sound of Miss Pratt's voice, by which means, un- 
 happily, one half of her dulcet notes fall powerless 
 on my dull spirit. May I beg to know what I am 
 called upon to b^Heve ?"
 
 ^66 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 '' There's an old saying, Colonel, that there's 
 none so deaf as them who won't hear ; and I sus- 
 pect that's your case sometimes," retorted Miss 
 Pratt in a very toothy manner, though affecting 
 to turn the laugh against her opponent. 
 
 The entrance of the post-bag here attracted 
 Miss Pratt's attention. It was Lord Rossville's 
 enviable prerogative to open it himself, and to 
 dole out the letters in the most cautious and deli- 
 I^rate manner to their respective destinations — a 
 measure which very ill accorded with the mercu- 
 rial powers of i\Iiss Pratt, who, in spite of his 
 Lordship's precautions in holding the mouth of 
 the bag as close as he possibly could, always con- 
 trived to dart her eyes dowir- to the very bottom 
 of it, and to anticipate its contents long ere the 
 moment of delivery arrived. Like all weak im- 
 portant people, Lord Rossville loved power in 
 any form or substance in which it presented it- 
 self, even in that of a leather bag, which he grasp- 
 ed with the air of a Jupiter holding his thunder- 
 bolt, and lingered over it as though it had been 
 another Pandora's box. Although his Lordship, 
 for upwards of forty years, had been in the daily, 
 nay hourly, practice of declaring that he would
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 267 
 
 not be hurried — that he would take his own time, 
 &c. &€., nevertheless, in the very teeth of this 
 assurance. Miss Pratt did still persist in her at- 
 tempts to accelerate the EarPs movements, which, 
 of course, had invariably the effect of protracting 
 them. On the present occasion, it seemed doubt- 
 ful whether the letters were ever to see the light, 
 as, upon Miss Pratt remarking, that it would be 
 much better if there was no bag at all, for then 
 people would get their letters at once, without 
 being kept on the tenter-hooks this way, his 
 Lordship closed its mouth, and, opening his own, 
 commenced a very elaborate harangue on the im- 
 propriety, irregularity, and inconvenience of such 
 a mode of proceeding. ^Meanwhile, Gertrude 
 gradually regained her composure, and was even 
 able to receive Colonel Delmour's assiduities with 
 something like pleasure. At length. Miss Pratt 
 having knocked under, for, as she observed, in 
 an underhand way, there was no disputing with 
 a man who held the key of the post-bag, the con- 
 tents were duly distributed, and she received her 
 portion, which kept her silent for a few minutes. 
 Gertrude trembled as a letter was handed to 
 her ; but her alarm subsided when she saw it was
 
 268 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 directed in a feeble affected-looking female hand, 
 and sealed with a fat bouncing heart, skewered 
 with an arrow, motto, " La peine est douce?'' 
 The contents corresponded with these exterior 
 symbols, and were as follows : 
 
 " Bellevue, July 
 
 '* Ma chere Cousine, 
 " From what passed in your presence, you will, 
 I suspect, not be very much surprised to hear that 
 a certain person, who shall be nameless, has car- 
 ried his point, and that I have at length been 
 prevailed upon to name Thursday next as the 
 day when I am to enter upon a new state of 
 existence ! Eth hien ! my dear coz — I hope your 
 time is coming, and when it does, most fervently 
 do I pray that you may prove as fortunate in 
 your choice as I have done in mi7ie. The Ma- 
 jor is indeed all that I could wish — far, very 
 far beyond my poor deserts ; — and I should con- 
 sider myself as the most ungrateful of wotnen, 
 if I did not look upon myself as the 7nost fortu- 
 nate of my sex ! That being the case, I cer- 
 tainly feel less than I should otherwise do at tak- 
 ing this most important and solemn step ; but
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 269 
 
 the certainty that I am bestowing myself upon 
 one who is in every respect worthy of my warm- 
 est admiration, esteem, and affection, supports 
 me ; and be assured, my dear cousin, it is the 
 only thing that can support the spirits at such a 
 time. How much, alas ! are they to be pitied, 
 who do not possess that certainty^ without which, 
 believe me, all the advantages of hirth and for- 
 tune are Clothing — for without that, I assure 
 you, the Major's rank, fortune, connections, man- 
 ners,. &c. &c. &c. 7iever would have influenced 
 me. Such being the state of affairs here at pre- 
 sent, I am very desirous that you, ma cliere cou- 
 sine, should participate in my feelings, and also 
 take a lesson for what, rest assured, will o?ie day 
 be your own fate. I, therefore, request, as a 
 particular favour, that you will give us the plea- 
 sure of your company to pass the intervening 
 days with me, and to officiate as bride's-maid upon 
 a certain occasion. The Major unites with me 
 in this request, so it will be a double disappoint- 
 ment if any thing should prevent you. Papa and 
 mama also join in the wish that my nuptials 
 should be graced with your presence. The Ma- 
 jor offered to drive down for you any day in the
 
 270 THE INHEUITANCE. 
 
 gig — (Apropos, I must tell you he admires you 
 very much — but I am not jealous ;) — but I own 
 at present, I think that would be making the 
 thing rather public, and besides, shall I confess 
 my weakness P — I feel particularly timid at the 
 thoughts of the Major risking himself in a gig at 
 present — only conceive my situation, if any thing 
 should happen to him ! ! ! I trust you will be at 
 no loss for an opportunity, and that I shall 
 soon have the pleasure of seeing you here, and 
 of making you better acquainted with my lord and 
 master to be. Adio mia cara, 
 
 " Isabella. 
 
 " Pray, have you heard any more of your 
 beau ? The Major thinks he must be a spy. 
 
 "I. C. B. 
 
 " Excuse haste, but the Major is sitting by 
 me, and says he is ready to quarrel with you, 
 for engrossing so much of my time. 
 
 " I. C. B." 
 
 In great disgust at the vulgar, affected fami- 
 liarity of this performance, Gertrude handed it 
 to her mother in silence, resolved in her own 
 mind to return a brief denial to Miss Bell's invi-
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 271 
 
 tation. Not so Mrs St Clair, who thought no- 
 thing could be more apropos than this proposal. 
 She was desirous of removing her daughter from 
 the observation of the family, until her mind 
 should have regained its usual tone, and she 
 knew nothing would be so likely to effect that as 
 change of scene, and necessity of exertion. It 
 would require a little management, perhaps, to 
 obtain Lord Rossville''s consent ; but, in the pre- 
 sent state of affairs, that would be easily obtain- 
 ed ; and having settled all this, she put the let- 
 ter in her reticule, with an air that said, this re- 
 quires consideration. 
 
 Miss Pratt now made known the contents of 
 her dispatch, which was a pressing invitation to 
 spend a few days at old Lady M'Caw's, to meet 
 Mrs Chatwell and the Miss Knowalls — just a 
 nice little female party. It was a pleasant thing 
 for old friends to meet, and talk over old stories 
 now and then, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 " So, Miss Pratt, we are going to lose you 
 then, it seems .^" said the Earl, in an accent of 
 agreeable surprise, and a visage beaming with de- 
 light. 
 
 ^' Indeed, it's not very well bred, my Lord, to
 
 272 THE TXHERITAXCE. 
 
 run away in this manner/' replied Miss Pratt ; 
 " but it's an old promise of mine to Lady M'Caw, 
 honest woman, and I would not like to disappoint 
 her, especially as she is so good as say she'll send 
 the carriage for me to-morrow morning. How- 
 ever, I shall make out my visit to you yet ; and 
 if I can get hold of Anthony Whyte, will bring 
 him with me.'' 
 
 Lord Rossville's countenance fell at this assu- 
 rance. He had been anxiously waiting the ter- 
 mination of Miss Pratt's visit, that he might 
 give a dinner to some of the stateliest of the 
 neighbouring grandees ; a thing which could 
 not be got up with good effect while that lady 
 was his guest. Her light frothy babbles dis- 
 concerted his heavy sonorous speeches ; her 
 brisk familiarity detracted from the dignity of 
 his manner ; — it was as impossible for him to be 
 the dignified nobleman, with Miss Pratt at his 
 elbow, as it would have been with an ape on his 
 shoulder. However, it was a great point gained 
 to have got her fairly off the field, and he flatter- 
 ed himself, with a little management, he might 
 contrive to exclude her till it suited his time to 
 receive her again. Contrary to his usual prac-
 
 CHATTEIi XXIV. 273 
 
 tice, but in conformity with the vulgar proverb, 
 he therefore resolved to make hay wliile the sun 
 shone, and straightway set about issuing his cards 
 immediately. In this complacent mood, Mrs St 
 Clair found little difficulty in obtaining his con- 
 sent to Gertrude's visit to Bellevue, which she 
 took care to insinuate would prove highly advan- 
 tageous, in a political point of view ; — a bait 
 which the Earl instantly caught at. He even 
 declared his intention, and that of Mr Delmour, 
 to pay their respects to the worthy family at 
 Bellevue the following day ; and finally, it was 
 settled, that they should accompany Mrs and 
 Miss St Clair there, leaving the latter to offi- 
 ciate at her cousin's nuptials ; — an office which, 
 in the present state of the political contest, was 
 not deemed derogatory, even for the heiress pre- 
 sumptive of Rossville. 
 
 Colonel Delmour seemed somewhat chagrined 
 at first hearing of this arrangement ; but, upon 
 reflection, he began to discover that it might ra- 
 ther advance his purpose, to have the object of 
 his pursuit withdrawn for a while from the watch- 
 ful eyes of her guardians ; and he secretly resolv- 
 ed to be a daily visitor at Bellevue while she re- 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 274 THK INHERITANCE. 
 
 mained. As for Gertrude, whatever repugnance 
 she felt at first to the proposal, she soon yielded to 
 her mother's solicitations, for she was a stranger 
 to that selfishness which is obstinate in trifles. 
 
 Miss Pratf s departure was hailed as a joyful 
 release by the whole party, with the exception, 
 indeed, of Lady Betty and Mr Delmour. The 
 one was too stupid, and the other too much en- 
 grossed, to have any discrimination in their choice 
 of company ; — with the one words were words, 
 and Miss Pratt's words were as good, if not bet- 
 ter, than other people's words ; — with the other. 
 Miss Pratt was Miss Pratt, and one Miss was 
 very much like another during a contested Elec- 
 tion.
 
 CHAPTEH XXV. 275 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 They who love you for political service, love you less than 
 their dinner ; and they who hate you, hate you worse than the 
 devil. 
 
 Wesley. 
 
 The whole Black family were evidently pre- 
 pared for the reception of their visitors ; and as 
 they were all good looking, and well dressed, the 
 tout ensemble was highly prepossessing. Indeed, 
 had it been otherwise, they would still have found 
 favour in the eyes of Lord Rossville and his ne- 
 phew, who, in each and all of the human beings 
 now assembled, even to the baby, beheld simply 
 a vote or the article or particle of a vote. The 
 Earl, therefore, parsed and prosed away to good 
 Mrs Black, who sat listening to him with the 
 most perfect reverence and admiration. Had 
 the speaker been their neighbour old Mr Long- 
 lungs, she might perhaps have thought him ra-
 
 276 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ther long-winded ; but it was still the golden age 
 of innocence with Mrs Black, for it never once 
 occurred to her that it was possible for an Earl 
 to be as tiresome as a commoner. She, therefore, 
 hung enamoured on his Lordship's accents ; but 
 when he condescended so far as to take one of the 
 children on his knee, and to drink the healths of 
 the whole family in what he declared to be the 
 very best Malmsey Maderia he had ever tasted, 
 the conquest of IVIrs Black was completed ; and 
 she secretly vowed in her heart, that she would 
 never rest night or day, till, by hook or by crook, 
 she had secured Mr Black's vote for him. And 
 then, as he seemed so taken with them all, there 
 was no saying but he might get a company for 
 Bob, and give his business to Davy. And with 
 these splendid visions, Mrs Black's comely good- 
 humoured face beamed upon the Earl with an ex- 
 pression he was little accustomed to on the coun- 
 tenances of his auditors. 
 
 Mr Delmour, on his part, was not idle, having 
 talked very sensibly with Mr Black on 
 
 '•' Russet lawns and fallows gray. 
 Where the nibbling flocks do stray;"
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 277 
 
 that is, in plain prose, on the rearing and feed- 
 ing of cattle, succession of crops, &c. &c. He next 
 addressed himself to a very pretty particle of a 
 vote in the person of Miss Lilly Black, who had 
 made some faint and inefficient attempts to disco- 
 ver whether he wrote poetry — till, growing bolder 
 as she advanced, she at length popped the ques- 
 tion, whether he would not write something in 
 her Album. Mr Delmour protested, with the 
 most perfect truth, that he never had written a 
 verse in his life ; but to soften the disappoint- 
 ment, added, with a bow and most expressive look, 
 that if ever he was to be so inspired, it must be 
 on the present occasion. Miss Lilly blushed, 
 and had no doubt that Mr Delmour was over 
 head and ears in love with her already ; and 
 having read every novel in the circulating library 
 at Barnford, Miss Lilly was ready to be fallen in 
 love with at a moment's warning. 
 
 Mrs Major Waddell to be, was the only one of 
 the family then at home who did not appear. 
 She said that, in her situation, it was extremely 
 unpleasant to be stared at by strangers, and as 
 Lord Rossville and Mr Delmour must know per- 
 fectly well how she was situated, they would
 
 278 THi> INHiiJUTAXCE. 
 
 easily understand her reasons for declining all in- 
 troductions in her present situation. Miss Bell, 
 however, secretly flattered herself that her ab- 
 sence would be too striking to be passed over in 
 silence, and that Lord Rossville would make a 
 point of seeing her ; great was her mortification, 
 therefore, when the whole party drove off, with 
 the exception of Gertrude, who was left behind. 
 The bride-elect descended to the drawing-room, 
 in hopes of hearing that the Major and she had 
 formed the principal subject of conversation ; but 
 there she found Mrs Black trying to remember 
 all that Lord Rossville had said about the line 
 of the New Canal, and Mr Black already an- 
 ticipating the arrival of a couple of pure Merinos, 
 which Mr Delmour was to procure for him from 
 his uncle the Duke of BurUngton ; Miss Lilly 
 was expressing her wonder to Miss St Clair, 
 whether it was really true that Mr Delmour did 
 not write poetry ; and the children were squab- 
 bling over the remains of the cake. 
 
 " I hope there was no particular allusion to the 
 Major and me,'" said Miss Bell, seeing it in vain 
 to wait for any voluntary communication ; "in 
 
 my situation such things are not very pleasant.'' 
 11
 
 CHAPTtU XXV. 2T9 
 
 " There was no mention made of you what- 
 ever, Bell," was the reply. 
 
 " I assure you I'm very happy to hear it," 
 said Miss Bell, in e\'ident displeasure, to which 
 she could only give vent by turning the children 
 out of the room for making a noise, which they, 
 of course, redoubled outside the door, till dragged 
 shrieking away by their maid. 
 
 Miss St Clair already felt the discomforts of her 
 situation — seated in a dressed drawing-room for 
 the day, with Mrs Black and her daughters, 
 who seemed to have renounced all occupation for 
 that of being company to their guest — and " la- 
 bour dire it is and weary woe," in such cases, 
 whether to the entertainer or the entertained. 
 
 Gertrude felt too strange — too much out of her 
 own element, to give free scope to her mind ; she 
 felt she was amongst those who did not under- 
 stand her, nor she them ; the tone of their minds 
 was pitched in a totally different key, and their 
 ideas, tastes, and habits, she was con\dnced, ne- 
 ver could assimilate with hers. At length, ]\Iiss 
 Lilly produced her Album for the amusement 
 or admiration of her cousin, and turned over page 
 after page, emblazoned with miserable drawings of
 
 280 THE TXHERITANCE. 
 
 dropsical Cupids with blue aprons, doves that might 
 have passed for termagants — stout calico roses — 
 heart' s-ease that was eye-sore, and forget-me-nots 
 that ought to have been washed in the waters of 
 Lethe. All these had, of course, appropriate 
 lines, or lines that were intended as such. Beneath 
 a rose, which bore evident traces of having been 
 washed with a sponge, was written in a small die- 
 away hand, scarcely visible to the naked eye, 
 Cowper's pretty verses, 
 '* A rose had been washed, just washed in a shower," &c. 
 
 A bunch of hearfs-ease, which might have served 
 for a sign-post, was emblematic of a sonnet to a 
 violet, beginning, 
 
 " Sweet modest flower that lurk'st unseen/' &c. 
 
 But the forget-me-nots had called forth an origi- 
 nal effusion addressed to Miss Lilly B., as follows: 
 
 Forget thee, sweet maid ? — ah ! how vain the request, — 
 Thy image fond memory has stamped on my heart ; 
 
 And, while life's warm pulses beat high in my breast. 
 Thy image shall ne'er from that bosom depart ! 
 
 The moon she is up, and the sun he is down ; 
 
 The wind too is hush'd, and silent's the rill ; 
 The birds to their little nests long since have flown ; 
 
 But when will forget my sad bosom to thrill !
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 281 
 
 Forget thee ! — ah ! who that has ever beheld 
 
 Thy eye of sky-blue, and thy locks of pure gold. 
 Thy cheek 
 
 " Oh ! you really mustn't read that,"*' cried 
 Miss Lilly, putting her hand aifectedly on the 
 place ; "it is only some nonsense of Lieutenant 
 O'Erien'^s." 
 
 " Pray, allow me to proceed," said Gertrude, 
 a little amused at the wretchedness of the rhymes. 
 " O, indeed ! I can't," said Miss Lilly, affect- 
 ing to be ashamed. 
 
 " I assure you, I am in great pain for your 
 cheek," said Gertrude ; " I'm afraid it must have 
 swelled in order to rhyme to ' beheld.' " 
 
 " Oh no ! I assure you it wasn't my cheek but 
 his heart that swelled," said Miss Lilly, in per- 
 fect simplicity. 
 
 " The Captain has a great genius for poetry," 
 said Mrs Black. 
 
 " Very great," said Miss Lilly, with a gentle 
 sigh. " I am certain that address to the moon 
 we saw in the newspaper was his writing." 
 
 " It's very well for people to write poetry who 
 can't afford to buy it," said Miss Bell, with a dis- 
 dainful toss ; " the Major has bought a most
 
 282 THE INHEUITANCE. 
 
 beautifiil copy of Lord Bjrron's works, bound in 
 red Morocco — rather too fine for reading, I think; 
 but he said he meant it to lie upon my sofa-table, 
 so I couldn't find fault." 
 
 " To be sure, Bell, as you say, it's a better 
 business to buy poetry than to write it," said Mrs 
 Black. 
 
 " There is nothing more worth reading," said 
 Miss Lilly, as her cousin continued to turn over 
 the leaves of the book; " that is only some dull 
 stupid stuff aunt Mary copied for me; IVe a 
 good mind to tear it out, it is just like a ser- 
 mon ;" and she was preparing to execute her 
 threat, when Gertrude begged leave to read the 
 offending lines before they were committed to the 
 flames. 
 
 When I look back, and in myself behold 
 The wandering ways that youth could not descry ; 
 And mark the fearful course that youth did hold. 
 And melt in mind each step youth stray'd awry ; 
 My knees I bow, and from my heart I call, 
 
 Lord ! forget these faults and follies all. 
 
 For now I see how void youth is of skill, 
 
 1 see also his prime time and his end ; 
 I do confess my faults and all my ill. 
 And sorrow sore for that I did offend ;
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 283 
 
 And with a mind repentant of all crimes, 
 Pardon T ask for youth ten thousand tfmes. 
 
 Thou that by power to life did'st raise the dead ; 
 Thou that of grace restor'dst the blind to sight ; 
 Thou that for love thy life and love outbled ; 
 Thou that of favour mad'st the lame go right ; 
 Thou that can'st heal and help in all essays. 
 Forgive the guilt that grew in youth's vain ways. 
 
 Lord Vaux. 
 
 " I like the verses," said Gertrude ; " and 
 should be glad to have them ; something tells 
 me,'"* added she with a sigh, as she read them 
 over again, " that they may some day be applica- 
 ble to myself." 
 
 " God forbid, my dear !" said Mrs Black, with 
 a look of horror — '^ God forbid that any of us 
 should ever be brought to such straits as that, and 
 I see no good in putting such dismal thoughts in- 
 to young folks' heads ; — but if you would like to 
 put off your bonnet before dinner, it's time you 
 were thinking of it :" 
 
 " For there comes the Major," cried Miss 
 Bell.
 
 284 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 • 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Une froideur ou une incivilite qui vient de ceux qui sout au- 
 dessus de nous, nous les fait hair, mais un salut ou un sourire 
 nous les reconcilie. 
 
 La Bruyere. 
 
 The following day brought Colonel Delmour, 
 and Gertrude watched, with some solicitude, the 
 effect her relations would produce upon him. 
 But he was upon his guard, and none but a nice 
 observer could have detected supercilious con- 
 tempt in the lofty ease of his manner. But there 
 is an ease, which causes only constraint in the 
 minds of others, and such was Colonel Delmour's. 
 He was much too elegant and high bred to have 
 any thing of the familiar ease, so often a conco- 
 mitant of the vulgar — but he had as little of that 
 open simplicity of manner, which is the charac- 
 teristic of a noble ingenuous mind. It was tliat 
 sort of ease, which implies conscious superiority
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 985 
 
 in its possessor, and consequently produces the 
 opposite feeling in those less gifted mortals with 
 whom it comes in contact. Such was the sort of 
 undefinable sensation it created in the Black fa- 
 mily from the eldest to the youngest. 
 
 Simple Mrs Black's profound and earnest in- 
 quiries after Lord Rossville — her hopes that he 
 had not been the worse of his ride — that he had 
 got home before the hearty shower, &c. &c. &c. 
 were all answered in a general way, and with an 
 air of indifference, which, as Mrs Black after- 
 wards declared, said very little for his natural af- 
 fection. Even Miss Bell had an instinctive feel- 
 ing, that her airs would be all thrown away upon 
 him, and though she did drop her carbuncle 
 brooch (a present from Hyder Ally to the Major) 
 upon the carpet. Colonel Delmour never so much 
 as moved his chair or assisted in looking for it ; 
 while Miss Lilly turned over her Album in vain, 
 and in answer to her usual question of whether he 
 was fond of poetry, he returned so brief and de- 
 cided a negative as put a complete stop to all pro- 
 ceedings on that subject. The only one who made 
 no attempts at display was the third daughter, 
 Anne, a sensible, mild-looking girl, who, from her
 
 S86 THE IXHERITANCE. 
 
 quiet unobtrusive manners, was generally over- 
 looked, and who now pursued her work in her 
 usual calm way, careless alike of notice or ne- 
 glect. 
 
 Colonel Delmour certainly was at no pains to 
 gain the good graces of the family. He saw at 
 once they were not the sort of people likely to 
 acquire any influence over Miss St Clair, conse- 
 quently, he had no motive to make him wish to 
 ingratiate himself with them. And to have been 
 at the trouble of making the agreeable to such a 
 set of plebeians, would have required some very 
 strong stimulus for one whose ruling principle 
 was selfishness, and who never cared to please, 
 unless to serve his own purpose. He staid long, 
 in hopes Mrs Black and her daughters would 
 have had the tact to discover, that they were 
 great bores in their own house — but no such dis- 
 covery was made ; — on the contrary, Mrs Black 
 redoubled her efforts to entertain her visitor — 
 she made many apologies for Mr Black being 
 from home, and asked Bell what had come over 
 the Major — just as the Major entered. The case 
 was now desperate — scarcely able to conceal hii 
 ill humour, he merely noticed the introduction of
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 987 
 
 Major Waddell by a slight and somewhat haugh- 
 ty bow, and took his leave. 
 
 " AVell, cousin,'^ cried Miss Bell, as he drove 
 off, " I really cannot say a great deal for your 
 Colonel ; I think I never saw so ill-bred a man." 
 
 " I canH just say that. Bell," said her mother. 
 " I'm sure he was nowise indiscreet, and we must 
 make allowance for him, for you know we were 
 all strangers to him, and, I dare say, he was just 
 a little shy and strange at first — but that'll wear 
 off." 
 
 " Ifs the oddest thing, that he should not like 
 poetry," said Miss Lilly, " for he is so hand- 
 some." 
 
 " I don't think much of his looks," said Miss 
 Bell ; " he is a great deal too tall," eyeing the 
 Major, who was the Apollo Belvidere in her opi- 
 nion, and who was, at least, a head shorter. 
 
 " I think our Bob must be as tall by this 
 time," said Mrs Black ; " but I wish he may have 
 taken the breadth with him, poor fellow." 
 
 " I don't think he has the manners of a man 
 who has seen much of the world," resumed Miss 
 Bell again, looking at her lover ; *• no general 
 conversation — has he ever been abroad, I wonder f"" '
 
 288 THE INHEBITANCE. 
 
 " Come, now," said the Major, turning up his 
 bronzed visage, gilded with a strong yellow beam 
 of delight ; " are you not rather too severe ? Co- 
 lonel Dehnour is surely a fine-looking man, and 
 much admired, I understand, by the ladies." 
 
 " I beg you will make some exceptions, Major 
 — but perhaps I have a very bad taste,"" with a 
 conscious smile. 
 
 " I am afraid you have, indeed," returned the 
 Major, with a laugh of perfect ecstasy. — " I'm 
 very much afraid of it, indeed — What do you say 
 to that, Mrs Black ? — Miss St Clair, don't you 
 think your cousin discovers a very bad taste in her 
 choice of some things ?" 
 
 Gertrude felt too much disgusted with the vul- 
 garity and ill-breeding of her relations, to be able 
 to reply ; — indeed, the only one she could, with 
 truth, have made, must have been a cordial as- 
 sent, and she recoiled from their familiarity with 
 a hauteur foreign to her nature. Mrs Black ob- 
 served her displeasure, but mistook the cause. 
 
 " You must excuse our freedom, my dear," said 
 she ; " but you see we make no stranger of you 
 — ^we just look upon you as one of ourselves, and 
 forget sometimes that your friends and relations
 
 CHAPTEll XXVI. 289 
 
 are not ours — but there's one thing I can tell 
 you,"" continued she, with a significant smile and 
 a half whisper, " that, though the ColoneFs not 
 just so taking as his brother, we all think a great 
 deal of him, and are all much pleased to think, 
 
 that you know" — and ]VIrs Black smiled still 
 
 more significantly. — " I assure you, ^dr Black 
 thinks a great deal of hitn — he says he's really 
 a pleasant, sensible, gentlemanly, well-informed 
 young man." 
 
 Still Gertrude's countenance did not clear up, 
 to Mrs Black's great surprise ; for, like many 
 other excellent wives, she thought her husband's 
 opinion carried the greatest possible weight with 
 it, and that Miss St Clair must needs be much 
 flattered to hear that her intended was so much 
 approved of by Mr Black. For the Earl, to ad- 
 vance his favourite political schemes, had dropped 
 some ambiguous mysterious hints of the projected 
 alliance between his nephew and niece, which Mrs 
 Black had easily manufactured into an approach- 
 ing marriage. Rather at a loss what to make of 
 Miss St Clair, and the coolness with which she 
 listened to the praises of her supposed lover, jMrs 
 Black now proposed, that the young people should 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 290 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 take a walk, and show their cousin something of 
 Bellevue — there was the burn, and the Hawkhill, 
 and the new plantation, and there was the poultry- 
 yard — if Miss Gertrude was fond of poultry, the 
 Bellevue poultry were reckoned the finest in the 
 country side ; and loaded with Mrs Black's direc- 
 tions and suggestions, the party set forth. 
 
 No party, perhaps, ever set out upon a walk 
 without some difference of opinion as to the road 
 to be taken ; but, on the present occasion, the 
 matter was soon settled by Miss Bell, who remark- 
 ed to the Major, that it was so long since she had 
 seen his sister, ]\Irs Fairbairn, that, if her cousin 
 had no objections, she would like much to walk 
 as far as the Holm. 
 
 " I have not seen your sweet little namesake, 
 Major, since he has had the measles, and I quite 
 long to see him, dear little fellow ! and although 
 it is an understood thing" — addressing Gertrude 
 — " that, in my situation, I go nowhere, yet the 
 Major's sister, you know, is an exception, and she 
 is such a sweet domestic woman, she scarcely ever 
 stirs from home — it is quite a treat to see Mr and 
 Mrs Fairbairn in their own family — it is reaUy a 
 beautiful sight."
 
 CHAITER XXVI. 291 
 
 The Major was, of course, all joy and grati- 
 tude for this proposal, and highly flattered by the 
 interest expressed for his little name-son in parti- 
 cular, and the eulog}^ bestowed on the family in 
 general. As for Gertrude, she cared little where 
 she went. When people are uncomfortable, they 
 flatter themselves any change must be for the 
 better, and there is relief even in variety of 
 wretchedness. Forward, then, they set for the 
 Hohn. 
 
 The road was not of the most picturesque de- 
 scription ; but, indeed, it would not have been 
 easy to have found any such in the emirons of 
 Belle^ale. But, at length, after skirting many a 
 well-dressed field, covered with flourishing crops 
 of oats, pease, beans, potatoes, Sec. kc. &c. they 
 entered upon the sheep farm, which, although it 
 had nothing of the romantic or beautiful to charm 
 the eye, yet, like all spots of misophisticated na- 
 ture, was not without attractions to those who 
 love nature even in her simplest scenes. 
 
 The ground was hilly, covered with a carpet of 
 close, short, sweet herbage, except here and there, 
 where still remained patches of heath and broom, 
 or a whin bush and a wild rose scented the breeze,
 
 292 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 their prickly stems decked with " small woolly 
 tufts, spoils of the vagrant lamb." 
 
 The air was pure and fresh, " nimble and 
 sweet,**' and Gertrude stood inhaling it with de- 
 light, as she felt her spirits rise under its exhila- 
 rating influence. The Major and Miss Bell had 
 walked on before. Miss Lilly had left the party 
 for higher ground, which commanded a view of 
 the county town where Lieutenant O'Brien was 
 quartered, and Gertrude, to her great relief, was 
 left alone with her cousin Anne. 
 
 " If there were but deer bounding instead of 
 sheep bleating here," said she, " I could fancy 
 myself upon the very ' Braes o' Balquither," which 
 you were singing about last night ;" and she hum- 
 med the air — " No, I can't make it out — pray 
 sing it to me again ;'' — and Anne sung some ver- 
 ses of that sweet simple ditty — 
 
 Will ye go^ lassie, go, 
 
 To the Braes o' Balquither, 
 Where the blaeberries grow 
 
 'Mang the bonnie bloomin' heather. 
 
 Where the deer and the roe^ 
 
 Lightly boundin' thcgither, 
 Sport the long simmer day 
 
 'Mang the Braes o' Balquither«
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 293 
 
 I will iwine thee a bow'r, 
 
 By the clear silver fountain. 
 And Til cover it o'er 
 
 Wi' the flowers o' the mountain. 
 
 I will range through the wilds, 
 And the deep glens, sae dreary, 
 
 And return wi' their spoils 
 To the bower o' my deary. 
 
 Now the svinimer is in prime, 
 Wi' the flowers richly blooming, 
 
 And the wild mountain thyme 
 A' the muirlands perfuming. 
 Will ye go, &c. &C. 
 
 ** Who would not be a hunter's love,'' said 
 Gertrude, " to reahze so sweet a picture !" 
 
 *' Ah I" said her companion in a mournful 
 tone, " if poverty were there represented as it is 
 in reahty, this world would be a paradise, and 
 we might all be happy/** 
 
 *' So, then, you think poverty the only evil in 
 life ?'" asked Miss St Clair. 
 
 " No. I spoke idly ; — not the only one ; — 
 but" — she blushed, and the tears stood in her eyes, 
 as in a low voice she added, " but the only one I 
 have ever known ;"' — then, as if ashamed of hav- 
 ing said so much, she turned away her head.
 
 294< THE INHERITAXCE. 
 
 For a moment Gertrude was at a loss to un- 
 derstand her cousin's meaning ; but it presently 
 struck her, that she must have formed some at- 
 tachment where poverty was the obstacle ; and 
 she would have continued the conversation in 
 hopes of gaining her confidence, but at that mo- 
 ment the Major and Miss Bell, having retraced 
 their steps in search of their companions, inter- 
 posed. 
 
 " We thought we had lost you !" exclaimed 
 the lady. — " Major, will you give my cousin your 
 other arm ? — the descent is very steep now."" 
 
 Gertrude declined the proffered aid, which she 
 thought more hkely to encumber than accelerate 
 her movements ; and, besides, she wished to re- 
 new the conversation with Anne, but in vain.— 
 The lovers, having exhausted their silly talk for 
 the present, were now glad of a little variety, and 
 they kept all close together till they reached the 
 Holm.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 295 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The great use of delineating absurdities is, that we may know 
 how far human folly can go ; the account, therefore, ought, of 
 absolute necessity, to be faithful. 
 
 JOHN^SON-. 
 
 The first appearance of the Holm was highly- 
 prepossessing. It was a large, handsome-look- 
 ing house, situated in a well-wooded park, by 
 the side of a broad placid river, and an air of se- 
 clusion and stillness reigned all round, which im- 
 pressed the mind with images of peace and repose. 
 The interior of the house was no less promising- 
 there was a spacious hall and a handsome stair- 
 case, with all appliances to boot — but as they ap- 
 proached the drawing-room, all the luxurious in- 
 dolence of thought, inspired by the tranquillity of 
 the scenery^, was quickly dispelled by the discord- 
 ant sounds which issued from thence, and, when 
 the door was thrown open, the footman in vain
 
 296 THE IKHKRITANCE. 
 
 attempted to announce the visitors. In the mid- 
 dle of the room all the chairs were collected to 
 form a coach and horses for the Masters and 
 Misses Fairbairn. — One unruly-looking urchin sat 
 in front, cracking a long whip with all his might 
 — another acted as guard behind, and blew a 
 shrill trumpet with all his strength — while a third, 
 in a night-cap and flannel lappet, who had some- 
 what the air of having quarrelled with the rest of 
 the party, paraded up and down, in solitary ma- 
 jesty, beating a drum. On a sofa sat Mrs 
 Fairbairn, a soft, fair, genteel-looking woman, 
 with a crying child of about three years old at her 
 side, tearing paper into shreds, seemingly for the 
 delight of littering the carpet, which was already 
 strewed with headless dolls, tailless horses, wheel- 
 less carts, &c. As she rose to receive her visitors 
 it began to scream. 
 
 " I'm not going away, Charlotte, love — don't 
 be frightened," said the fond mother, with a look 
 of ineffable pleasure. 
 
 " You no get up — you shan't get up," scream- 
 ed Charlotte, seizing her mother's gown fiercely 
 to detain her. 
 
 " My darling, you'll surely let me go to speak
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 29T 
 
 to uncle — good uncle, who brings you pretty 
 things, you know ;'' — but, during this colloquy, 
 uncle and the ladies had made their way to the 
 enthralled mother, and the bustle of a meeting and 
 introduction was got over. Chairs were obtained 
 by the footman with some difficulty, and placed 
 as close to the mistress of the house as possible, 
 aware, that, otherwise, it would not be easy to car- 
 ry on even question and answer amid the tumult 
 that reigned. 
 
 " You find us rather noisy, I am afraid,^ said 
 Mrs Fairbairn with a smile, and in a manner 
 which evidently meant the reverse ; " but this is 
 Saturday, and the children are all in such spirits, 
 and they won't stay away from me — Henrj', my 
 dear, don't crack your whip quite so loud — there\s 
 a good boy — that's a new whip his papa brought 
 him from London ; and he's so proud of it ! — 
 William, my darling, don t you think your drum 
 must be tired now ? — If I were you I would give it 
 a rest. — Alexander, your trumpet makes rather 
 too much noise — one of these ladies has got a 
 headache — wait till you go out — there's my good 
 bov, and then voull bjow it at the cows and the
 
 298 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 sheep, you know, and frighten them — Oh ! how 
 you'll frighten them with it ^ 
 
 " No, I'll not blow it at the cows; — I'll blow 
 it at the horses, because then they'll think it's 
 the mail-coach." — And he was running off, when 
 Henry jumped down from the coach-box. 
 
 " No, but you shan't frighten them with your 
 trumpet, for I shall frighten them with my whip. 
 Mama, aren't horses best frightened with a whip.?" 
 — and a struggle ensued. 
 
 " Well, don't fight, my dears, and you shall 
 both frighten them," cried their mama. 
 
 " No, I'm determined he shan't frighten them ; 
 I shall do it," cried both together, as they rush- 
 ed out of the room, and the drummer was prepar- 
 ing to follow. 
 
 " William, my darling, don't you go after 
 these naughty boys ; you know they're always very 
 bad to you. You know they wouldn't let you in- 
 to their coach with your drum." — Here William 
 began to cry. — " Well, never mind, you shall 
 have a coach of your own — a much finer coach 
 than theirs ; I wouldn't go into their ugly dirty 
 coach ; and you shall have " Here some- 
 thing of a consolatory nature was whispered,
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 209 
 
 William was comforted, and even prevailed upon 
 to relinquish his drum for his mama's ivory work- 
 box, the contents of which were soon scattered on 
 the floor. 
 
 *' These boys are gone without their hats," 
 cried Mrs Fairbairn in a tone of distress. " Eliza, 
 my dear, pull the bell for Sally to get the boys'* 
 hats." — Sally being dispatched with the hats, 
 something like a calm ensued, in the absence of 
 he of the whip and the trumpet ; but as it will be 
 of short duration, it is necessary to take advantage 
 of it in improving the introduction into an ac- 
 quaintance with the Fairbairn family. 
 
 Mrs Fairbairn was one of those ladies, who, 
 from the time she became a mother, ceased to be 
 any thing else. All the duties, pleasures, chari- 
 ties, and decencies of Ufe, were henceforth con- 
 centrated in that one grand characteristic ; every 
 object in life was henceforth viewed through that 
 single medium. Her own mother was no longer 
 her mother ; she was the gi'andmama of her dear 
 infants, her brothers and sisters were mere uncles 
 and aunts, and even her husband ceased to be 
 thought of as her husband from the time he be- 
 came a father. He was no longer the being who
 
 300 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 had claims on her time, her thoughts, her talents, 
 her affections ; he was simply Mr Fairbairn, the 
 noun masculine of Mrs Fairbairn, and the father 
 of her children. Happily for Mr Fairbairn, he 
 was not a person of very nice feelings, or refined 
 taste ; and although, at first, he did feel a little 
 unpleasant when he saw how much his children 
 were preferred to himself, yet, in time, he became 
 accustomed to it, then came to look upon Mrs 
 Fairbairn as the most exemplary of mothers, and 
 finally resolved himself into the father of a very 
 fine family, of which Mrs Fairbairn was the mo- 
 ther. In all this there was more of selfish egot, 
 ism, and animal instinct, than of rational affec- 
 tion, or Christian principle; but both parents 
 piqued themselves upon their fondness for their 
 offspring, as if it were a feeling peculiar to them- 
 selves, and not one they shared in common with 
 the lowest and weakest of their species. Like 
 them, too, it was upon the bodies of their children 
 that they lavished their chief care and tenderness, 
 for, as to the immortal interests of their souls, or 
 the cultivation of their minds, or the impr ovement 
 of their tempers, these were but little attended to, 
 
 8
 
 CHArXEll XXVII. 301- 
 
 at least in comparison of their health and person- 
 al appearance. 
 
 Alas ! if there " be not a gem so precious as the 
 human soul," how often do these gems seem as 
 pearls cast before swine ; for how seldom is it that 
 a parent's greatest care is for the immortal happi- 
 ness of that being whose precarious, and at best 
 transient, existence engrosses their every thought 
 and desire ! But, perhaps, Mrs Fairbairn, like 
 many a foolish ignorant mother, did her best, and 
 had she been satisfied with spoiling her children 
 herself for her own private amusement, and not 
 have drawn in her visitors and acquaintances to 
 share in it, the evil might have passed uncensur- 
 ed. But Mrs Fairbairn, instead of shutting her- 
 self up in her nursery, chose to bring her nursery 
 down to her drawing-room, and instead of modest- 
 ly denying her friends an entrance into her pur- 
 gatory, she had a foohsh pride in showing herself 
 in the midst of her angels. In short, as the best 
 things, when corrupted, always become the worst, 
 so the purest and tenderest of human affections, 
 when thus debased by selfishness and egotism, 
 turn to the most tiresome and ridiculous of hu-
 
 302 THE INHERlTANv-^i-:. 
 
 man weaknesses, — a truth but too well exempli- 
 fied by Mrs Fairbairn. 
 
 " I have been much to blame," said she, ad- 
 dressing Miss Bell, in a soft, whining, sick-child 
 sort of voice, " for not having been at Bellevue 
 long ago ; but dear little Charlotte has been so 
 plagued with her teeth, I could not think of leav- 
 ing her — for she is so fond of me, she will go to 
 nobody else — she screams when her maid offers 
 to take her — and she won't even go to her papa." 
 
 "Is that possible ?" said the Major. 
 
 " I assure you ifs very true — she's a very 
 naughty girl sometimes," bestowing a long and 
 rapturous kiss on the child. " Who was it that 
 beat poor papa for taking her from mama last 
 night ? Well, don't cry — no, no, it wasn't my 
 Charlotte — She knows every word that's said to 
 her, and did from the time she was only a year 
 old." 
 
 " That is wonderfril !" said Miss Bell ; " but 
 how is my little favourite Andrew ?" 
 
 " He is not very stout yet, poor little fellow, 
 and we must be very careful of him." Then 
 turning to Miss St Clair, " Our little Andrew
 
 CHAPTEB XXVIl. 303 
 
 has had the measles, and you know the dregs of 
 the measles are a serious thing — much worse 
 than the measles themselves. Andrew — Andrew 
 Waddell, my love, come here and speak to the 
 ladies." And thereupon Andrew Waddell, in a 
 night-cap, riding on a stick, drew near. Being 
 the Major's namesake, Miss Bell, in the ardour 
 of her attachment, thought proper to coax An- 
 drew Waddell on her knee, and even to open her 
 watch for his entertainment. 
 
 " Ah ! I see who spoils Andrew Waddell,*" 
 cried the delighted mother. 
 
 The Major chuckled — Miss Bell disclaimed, 
 and for the time Andrew Waddell became the 
 hero of the piece ; the Mains of the measles were 
 carefully pointed out, and all his sufferings and 
 sayings duly recapitulated. At length Miss Char- 
 lotte, indignant at finding herself eclipsed, began 
 to scream and cry with all her strength. 
 
 " If s her teeth, darling little thing,'' said her 
 mother, caressing her. 
 
 " I'm sure it's her teeth, sweet little dear," 
 said Miss Bell. 
 
 " It undoubtedly must be her teeth, poor little 
 girl," said the Major.
 
 SO-i THE INliEIUTANCE. 
 
 " If you will feel her gum/' said Mrs Fair- 
 bairn, putting her own finger into the child's 
 mouth, " you will feel how hot it is."" 
 
 This w^as addressed in a sort of general way to 
 the company, none of whom seemed eager to 
 avail themselves of the privilege, till the Major 
 stepped forward, and having with his fbre-finger 
 made the circuit of Miss Charlotte's mouth, gave 
 it as his decided opinion, that there was a tooth 
 actually cutting the skin. Miss Bell followed the 
 same course, and confirmed the interesting fact — 
 adding, that it appeared to her to be " an uncom- 
 mon large tooth." 
 
 At that moment Mr Fairbairn entered, bearing 
 in his arms another of the family, a fat, sour, 
 new-waked- looking creature, sucking its finger. 
 Scarcely was the introduction over — " There's a 
 pair of legs !" exclaimed he, holding out a pair of 
 thick purple stumps with red worsted shoes at 
 the end of them. " I don't suppose Miss St 
 Clair ever saw legs like these in France ; these are 
 porridge and milk legs, are they not, Bobby .^" 
 
 But Bobby continued to chew the cud of his 
 own thumb in solemn silence. 
 " Will you speak to me, Bobby P" said Miss
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 305 
 
 Bell, bent upon being amiable and agreeable — 
 but still Bobby was mute. 
 
 " We think this little fellow rather long of 
 speaking," said Mr Fairbairn ; "we allege that 
 his legs have ran away with his tongue." 
 
 " How old is he ?" asked the Major. 
 
 " He is only nineteen months and ten days," 
 answered his mother, " so he has not lost much 
 time ; but I would rather see a child fat and 
 thriving, than have it very forward." 
 
 " No comparison!" was here uttered in a breath 
 by the Major and Miss Bell. 
 
 '' There's a great difference in children in their 
 time of speaking," said the mama. " Alexan- 
 der didn't speak till he was two and a quarter ; 
 and Henry, again, had a great many little words 
 before he was seventeen months ; and Eliza and 
 Charlotte both said mama as pL^in as I do at a 
 year — but girls always speak sooner than boys — 
 as for AVilliam Pitt and Andrew Waddell, the 
 twins, they both suffered so much from their 
 teething, that they were longer of speaking than 
 they would otherwise have been — indeed, I ne- 
 ver saw an infant suffer so much as Andrew 
 Waddell did — he had greatly the heels of Wil- 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 306 THE INHKRITANCE. 
 
 liam Pitt at one time, till the measles pulled him 
 down/*' 
 
 A movement was here made by the visitors to 
 depart. 
 
 " O ! you mustn't go without seeing the baby," 
 cried Mrs Fairbairn — " Mr Fairbairn, will you 
 pull the bell twice for baby ?" 
 
 The bell was twice rung, but no baby answered 
 the summons. 
 
 " She must be asleep," said Mrs Fairbairn ; 
 " but I will take you up to the nursery, and you 
 will see her in her cradle." And Mrs Fairbairn 
 led the way to the nursery, and opened the shut- 
 ter, and uncovered the cradle, and displayed the 
 baby. 
 
 *' Just five months — uncommon fine child — 
 the image of Mr Fairbairn — fat little thing — 
 neat little hands — sweet little mouth — pretty lit- 
 tle nose — nice little toes," &c. &c. &c. were as 
 usual whispered over it. 
 
 Miss St Clair flattered herself the exhibition 
 was now over, and was again taking leave, when, 
 to her dismay, the squires of the whip and the 
 trumpet rushed in, proclaiming that it was pour- 
 ing of rain ! To leave the house was impossible^
 
 CHAPTElt XXVII. 307 
 
 and, as it was getting late, there was nothing for 
 it but staying dinner. 
 
 The children of this happy family always din- 
 ed at table, and their food and manner of eating 
 were the only subjects of conversation. Alexan- 
 der did not like mashed potatoes — and Andrew 
 Waddell could not eat broth — and Eliza could 
 live upon fish — and William Pitt took too much 
 small-beer — and Henry ate as much meat as his 
 papa — and all these peculiarities had descended 
 to them from some one or other of their ancestors. 
 The dinner was simple on account of the children, 
 and there was no dessert, as Bobby did not agree 
 with fruit. But to make amends, Eliza's samp- 
 ler was shown, and Henry and Alexander's copy- 
 books were handed round the table, and Andrew 
 Waddell stood up and repeated — " My name is 
 Norval," from beginning to end, and William 
 Pitt was prevailed upon to sing the whole of 
 " God save the King," in a little squeaking mealy 
 voice, and was bravoed and applauded as though 
 he had been Braham himself 
 
 To paint a scene in itself so tiresome is doubt- 
 less but a poor amusement to my reader, who 
 must often have endured similar persecution.
 
 3Q8 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 For, who has not suffered from the obtrusive 
 fondness of parents for their offspring? — ^and who 
 has not felt what it was to be called upon, in the 
 course of a morning visit, to enter into all the 
 joys and the sorrows of the nursery, and to take 
 a lively interest in all the feats and peculiarities 
 of the family ? Shakespeare's anathema against 
 those who hated music is scarcely too strong to 
 be applied to those who dislike children. There 
 is much enjoyment sometimes in making acquaint- 
 ance with the little beings — much delight in hear- 
 ing their artless unsophisticated prattle, and some- 
 thing not unpleasing even in witnessing their lit- 
 tle freaks and wayward humours ; — but when a 
 tiresome mother, instead of allowing the company 
 to notice her child, torments every one to death 
 in forcing or coaxing her child to notice the com- 
 pany, the charm is gone, and we experience only 
 disgust or ennui. 
 
 Mr and Mrs Fairbairn had split on this fatal 
 rock on which so many parents make shipwreck 
 of their senses — and so satisfied were they with 
 themselves and their children, so impressed with 
 the idea of the delights of their family scenes, 
 that vain woidd have been any attempt to open
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 309 
 
 the eyes of their understanding. Perhaps the 
 only remedy would have been found in that bless- 
 ed spirit which " vaunteth not itself, and seek- 
 eth not its own." 
 
 The evening proved fine ; and Gertrude rejoic- 
 ed to return even to Bellevue.
 
 310 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 II y en a pen qui gagnent a etre approfondies. 
 
 La Bruyere. 
 
 '' What a sweet woman your sister is !" said 
 Miss Bell, who at present beheld every object 
 connected with the Major tinged with " Love's 
 proper hue.*' 
 
 " I am very glad you like her," replied the de- 
 lighted lover ; " and I flatter myself the longer 
 you know her the more you will be pleased with 
 her." 
 
 " O, I have no doubt of that," said the lady. 
 
 " You will find her always the same," continu- 
 ed the Major. 
 
 " That is delightful !" said Miss Bell ; " and 
 what a charming family she has, it is really quite 
 a treat to see them — I assure you, I don't know 
 when I have passed so pleasant a day." 
 
 " I trust you will pass many such," returned
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 311 
 
 the Major, brightening still more. " I flatter my- 
 self my sister and you will be sisters indeed." 
 
 While this colloquy was carrying on betwixt 
 the lovers, Miss St Clair tried to bring her cou- 
 sin Anne back to the sJbject of their morning's 
 conversation ; but Anne seemed either afraid or 
 ashamed of having said so much, and rather 
 shunned any renewal of the subject. Gertrude 
 did not think the worse of her upon that account, 
 but rather gave her credit for that delicacy of 
 mind which made her shrink from making a con- 
 fidante of one, who, although a relation, was, in 
 fact, almost a stranger to her. 
 
 ^' It would be folly in me, my dear cousin,"" 
 said she, " to make a parade of offering to assist 
 you at present in any way. I am neither old nor 
 wise enough to advise, and I am quite as poor 
 and as powerless as you can possibly be ; but if 
 ever the time should come when I have either 
 wisdom or power — both I can never hope to have 
 together,"" said she with a smile, — " promise that 
 you will then riddle me right, and tell me why 
 poverty is the greatest misfortune in the world."" 
 
 They were here interrupted by a band of young 
 Blacks, who, having descried them from the win-
 
 312 
 
 THE INIIERITAKCii. 
 
 dow, had rushed out to meet them — all breathless 
 with haste to hear where they had been, and to 
 proclaim, that Bob and Davy were arrived ; and 
 upon advancing a little farther, Bob and Davy 
 presented themselves in y^opriis personis. 
 
 Bob and Davy were two tall good-looking 
 youths, dressed in aU the extremes of the reign- 
 ing fashions — small waists — brush-heads — stiff 
 collars — iron heels and switches. Like many 
 other youths, they were decidedly of opinion, that 
 dress " makes the man, and want of it the fel- 
 low," and that the rest was " mere leather and 
 prunella." Perhaps, after all, that is a species of 
 humility rather to be admired in those who, feel- 
 ing themselves destitute of mental qualifications, 
 trust to the abilities of their tailor and hair-dress- 
 er for gaining them the good- will of the world ; 
 and who can tell whether there may not be more 
 true lowliness of mind in a mop-head and high- 
 heeled boots, than has been lodged in many a pil- 
 grim's scallopped hat and sandalled shoon ? Be 
 that as it may, it was evident that Bob and Davy 
 rested their claims to distinctioii solely on the 
 outward man, and that the sentiment of Henry 
 the Fifth was by no means theirs,—
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 313 
 
 It yearns me not that men my garments wear,, 
 Such outward things dwell not in my desire, &:c. 
 
 Introduced to their cousin, and the first cere- 
 monials over, Bob and Davy each began to play 
 his part. Bob, being a military man, talked of 
 parades, reviews, mess-dinners, and regulation 
 epaulettes — while Davy, the writer''s apprentice, 
 was loud upon Edinburgh belles, playhouse rows. 
 Assembly Rooms, and new quadrilles. 
 
 " We are to be reviewed on the 27tb,'' said 
 Bob, addressing his cousin. " Gunstown is only 
 about thirty miles from this. I hope you will do 
 us the honour to come and look at us — we shall 
 give a ball and supper after it — my mother and 
 the girls will, of course, be there — Bell, you will 
 be at our turn-out, won't you ?^ 
 
 " I wonder how you can ask such a question, 
 Bob, of a person in my situation," said Miss Bell, 
 with dignity. 
 
 " What a famous deal of fun we had in Edin- 
 burgh last winter," said Davy ; " I was very of- 
 ten at three balls in a night. You dance qiiey- 
 drilU of course ; country-dances are quite ex« 
 plodednow in Edinburgh — they call them kitchen 
 dances there — there's nothing goes down now but
 
 314 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 walltsays and queydrills. — By-the-bye, I dare 
 say we could make out a queydrill here. Bell, do 
 you dance queydrills ?" 
 
 " I never heard of a person in my situation 
 dancing," replied Miss Bell with an air of con- 
 tempt. 
 
 " Aye, that's always the way whenever you 
 Misses get husbands, you grow so confoundedly 
 stupid ; — but I shall not suffer my wife to give 
 herself such airs, I can tell you. I shall make a 
 point of her dancing every night." 
 
 The brothers had come on purpose to be pre- 
 sent at the celebration of the nuptials, which they 
 merely thought of as Bell's going off — a consum- 
 mation to be devoutly wished for in a family of 
 eleven, and an event indissolubly united in their 
 minds with new coats, white gloves, wedding fa- 
 vours, bride's-maids, capital dinners, jovial sup- 
 pers, dances, flirtations, and famous fun. Such 
 being Bob and Davy, it may be inferred they were 
 no great acquisitions to the family party, though 
 they certainly were additions to it. Under the 
 mistaken idea of being too genteel to do any thing 
 for themselves, there was a constant ringing of 
 bells, and calling for this, that, and t'other ; and if
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 315 
 
 the hapless foot-boy could have cut himself into 
 a thousand pieces, and endowed each particular 
 piece with locomotive powers, all would scarcely 
 have sufficed to answer the demands made upon 
 him. Then, without any bad temper, there was 
 a constant jangUng and jarring from mere vacan- 
 cy of mind, and want of proper pursuit. They 
 were all warmly attached to each other in a dis- 
 agreeable way ; and, upon the strength of that at- 
 tachment, thought they might dispense with all 
 the ordinary rules of politeness, and contradict 
 and dispute with each other upon the most trifling 
 occasion. In short, it was not a pleasant dwell- 
 ing-place ; there was neither the peace and tran- 
 quillity which the true spirit of Christianity dif- 
 fuses amongst its votaries, nor the refined courte- 
 sies which spring from cultivated minds and ele- 
 gant habits. Anne, indeed, was an exception ; 
 but she was so quiet and pensive, that she was 
 completely sunk in the commotion that prevailed. 
 Miss St Clair suffered particularly from the as- 
 siduities of the two beaux, being both bent on en- 
 gaging her in a flirtation ; but their attentions 
 were received with so much coldness at times, 
 even amounting to hauteur, that at length they
 
 316 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 discovered that their old flames Cecy Swan and 
 Clemmy Dow were much prettier girls, and to 
 Cecy Swan and Clemmy Dow they accordingly 
 betook themselves. 
 
 Heartily tired of Bellevue and its inhabitants, 
 Gertrude longed impatiently for the marriage day, 
 that she might return to Rossville. She felt 
 anxious, too, about her mother, and the thoughts 
 of the mystery in which she was involved dis- 
 quieted her, and rendered her situation doubly 
 irksome. Unconsciously she cherished the desire 
 of penetrating that dread secret, although, with 
 the natural thoughtlessness and gaiety of youth, 
 her mind was often diverted from the contempla- 
 tion of it ; yet there were times when it gained an 
 almost overwhelming ascendancy over her, and 
 she thought she could easier have submitted to 
 any known evil, than have endured this unknown 
 fear. 
 
 In Colonel Delmour's company, indeed, every 
 painful idea was suspended, and she gave herself 
 up to the charms of his brilliant conversation, 
 and varied powers of pleasing, with a complete 
 forgetfulness of every thing, save the conscious- 
 ness of loving and being beloved, while, at the
 
 CHArTER XXVIII. 317 
 
 same time, with all the delusion of passion, she 
 yet closed her eyes against the light of conviction. 
 His visits became so frequent, and so long, that 
 they might have called forth some animadversion 
 in the family, who had been led by Lord RossvilJe 
 to look upon her as the affianced bride of the elder 
 brother, but all were too busy with the substantial 
 of marriage, to have much time to bestow on the 
 empty speculations of love. Mr Black had set- 
 tlements to read over and sign, &c. -Mrs Black 
 had the innumerable departments of mother and 
 housekeeper to fill — duties which are always 
 trebled tenfold upon such momentous occasions. 
 All the powers of Bob and Davy's minds were 
 exerted to the decoration of their persons — but 
 all the emanations of their genius had proved in- 
 sufficient to enlighten the understanding of the 
 Barnford tailor. Bob's coat was sent home when 
 too late for alterations, at least half an inch too 
 long, while Davy's waistcoat was as much too 
 short. The young ladies' gowns pleased better, 
 and the children were charmed with their respec- 
 tive suits and sashes. 
 
 As for Miss Bell, she was like some bright 
 planet, the centre of its own system, round which
 
 318 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 all inferior orbs revolve. She it was to whom all 
 must look for bride-cake, and gloves, and favours, 
 and all such minor consolations as fall to the lot 
 of the single on such occasions. But no one's cup, 
 however it may froth and mantle, is ever full, even 
 to the overflowing. Miss BelFs certainly seemed 
 to foam to the very top, but it could still have 
 held a little more. Many were the wedding pre- 
 sents she had received from kindred and friends, 
 according to their various means, till her chamber 
 might have vied with the shrine of .some patron 
 saint. But amidst all the votive offerings, there 
 was none from uncle Adam, although she had 
 settled in her own mind, that uncle Adam could 
 not possibly avoid presenting her with something 
 very handsome, whether in plate, jewels, or spe- 
 cie, and her only doubt was, which of the three 
 she would prefer. However, time wore on, and 
 uncle Adam was only to be seen in his usual atti- 
 tude, with his hands in his pockets, as if strictly 
 guarding his money, and with a face of the most 
 hopeless sourness. Miss Bell, notwithstanding, 
 still kept up under the expectation that uncle 
 Adam would surprise her in his own rough queer
 
 CHAPTER XX\III. 319 
 
 way some day, when she was not thinking of it. 
 When that day would be, it would have been 
 difficult to say, as there was no day in which she 
 was not fully prepared for the surprise.
 
 3^ THE INHEJUTANOE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come 
 in to dinner. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 The day previous to the marriage, the bustle 
 that reigned in and around Bellevue was increas- 
 ed to that intense degree, which attends all great 
 events as they approach towards their consumma- 
 tion. Uncle Adam, Miss Black, and Mr and Mrs 
 Fairbairn, were expected at dinner, and, during 
 the whole day, the steam of the soups, pies, pas- 
 ties, &c. &c. which issued from Mrs Black's 
 kitchen, and penetrated to the very interior of the 
 drawing-room, might (as some one has parodied 
 it) have created a stomach beneath the ribs of 
 death. To Gertrude, the comnwtion caused by 
 what is called giving a dinner, was something 
 new. The total bouleversement of all orders of 
 the community, where much was to be done with-
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. S2X. 
 
 out the proper means — where a sumptuous banquet 
 was to be prepared by the common drudges of the 
 kitchen, and where every servant had double their 
 usual portion of work to perform, besides being 
 thrown out of their own natural sphere of action. 
 Then there was the running backwards and for- 
 wards — the flying up stairs and the rushing down 
 stairs — the opening and shutting of doors, or ra- 
 ther I should say the opening of doors, as the 
 shutting is an evil seldom to be complained of 
 upon any occasion, unless, indeed, when the call 
 of " shut the door" is answered with a slam, 
 which shakes the house to its foundation. Added 
 to all this, was the losing of Mrs Black's keys, 
 with the customary suspicions attached to every 
 individual, of having somehow or other got them 
 about them — suspicions only to be removed by re- 
 peated raisings and shakings of the party suspect- 
 ed, and even then not completely effaced, till the 
 keys were found as usual in some place, where some- 
 body must surely have put them, and where nobo- 
 dy would ever have thought of looking for them. 
 Then the nursery-maid was transformed into 
 the cook's assistant, and the children were com- 
 mitted to a girl who could not manage them, and 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 ^22 Tllli: IN'HEUITANCK. 
 
 they broke loose, and overran the house, and re- 
 sisted all authority. But doubtless many of my 
 readers must have witnessed similar scenes, and 
 endured similar persecutions, pending the prepa- 
 rations for a dinner, which, like worthy Mrs 
 Black's, was to be about three times as large and 
 as elaborate as was necessary. But many are the 
 paths to the temple of Fame, and hard it is to 
 climb by any of them ! Mrs Black was chiefly 
 emulous of a character for her dinners, and pro- 
 bably laboured infinitely harder to stuff a dozen 
 dull bodies, than the Author of Waverley does 
 to amuse the whole world. It was for this 
 she thought by night and toiled by day, but, 
 strange to say, she had an enjoyment in it too, 
 though, when that was, it would have been diffi- 
 cult to determine — for the anticipation was care 
 and fatigue — the reality was ceremony and anxie- 
 ty — the retrospect was disappointment and provo- 
 cation. 
 
 Uncle Adam was the first of the guests who 
 arrived, and Miss St Clair was the only one of 
 the family ready to receive him. She was in the 
 drawing-room when he entered, and the habitual 
 vinegar expression of his long triangular visage
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 323 
 
 relaxed into something like a smile at sight of her 
 — he even seated himself by her side, and entered 
 into conversation with a degree of complacency 
 very unusual with him. 
 
 Emboldened by his good humour, Gertrude 
 ventured to admire a very fine Camellia Japonica, 
 which, together with a piece of his favourite south- 
 ernwood, decorated the breast of his coat. 
 
 " I ken naething aboot the things myser,'"* said 
 he, hastily tearing it out of the button-hole, as if 
 ashamed of wearing any thing to be admired — 
 then stuffing it into her hand — '* Ha''e, tak it, my 
 dear — it cam' frae that place up bye" — pointing 
 in the direction of Bloom-Park. — " I'm sure they 
 need nae ha'e sent it to me. — What ca' ye it P" 
 
 Gertrude repeated the name. 
 
 " It's a senseless-like thing, without ony smell," 
 — applying the southernwood to his nose as he 
 spoke ; — " but I daresay there's plenty o' them, 
 and I've nae use for them, so you may gang up 
 bye when you like, and tak what you hke." 
 
 Gertrude thanked him, and as she adjusted 
 the japonica in her dress, the old garnet brooch, 
 now her only ornament, fell out, and in his gal- 
 lantry, the old man stooped to pick it up. But
 
 324 THE INHEIUTANCE. 
 
 no sooner had he taken it in his hand, than he 
 uttered an exclamation of astonishment, and turn- 
 ing it over and over, examined it with the deep- 
 est interest. 
 
 " Wha's aught this ?**' inquired he. 
 
 " It is mine,'' replied Gertrude in some surprise. 
 
 ^' Yours !" repeated he ; "yours ! and whar did 
 ye get it ? tell me the truth, whar did ye get it ?''' 
 
 " I got it from my nurse ; she gave it to me 
 when she was dying, and I have kept it for her 
 sake.'' 
 
 " And did she no tell you whar she had got it ?" 
 
 " I think she said she had got it from her mo- 
 ther." 
 
 " From her mother ! it was ance my mother's, 
 —it was mine, and I gi'ed it to Lizzie wi' my ain 
 hands whan last we parted, and she promised to 
 keep it till her dying day — there's our initials" — 
 pointing to the back — " and the very year we 
 
 parted." Then, after a long pause — " What 
 
 was the name o' your nurse, and whar did she 
 come frae .^" 
 
 " Her own name was Marianne Lamotte — her 
 husband's Jacob Lewiston, and she came from 
 America ; her father was French ; but, I believe,
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 325 
 
 her mother was Scotch, for she used to sing me 
 many an old Scotch song, which she said she had 
 learned from her." 
 
 " I canna mak it oot,'' said ^Vlr Ramsay thought- 
 fully — " but it disna signify, though I could, it 
 wadna bring back life and time ;" and with a sigh 
 he tendered the brooch. 
 
 " Pray keep it,"' said Gertrude ; '' it seems you 
 have a better right to it than I have. I valued it 
 merely for the sake of my nurse ; but it is a still 
 dearer memorial to you, and, therefore, I willing- 
 ly part with it." 
 
 " No, no," said he, rejecting the hand that 
 offered it ; " what wad I do wi't ? At your age, you 
 may please yourseP wi' thae kind o' dead toys, but 
 I'm owV auld noo to ha'e ony enjoyment in sic 
 things ; the young may tak pleasure in thae ro- 
 mantic gew-gaws ; ye Hke to look back whan ye 
 ha'e nae far to cast your eye — but at threescore 
 and ten it's a dreigh sight to see the lang and 
 weary road we ha'e wandered — No, no, there's nae 
 pleasure to the aged in sic mementos ; they canna 
 bring back youthfu' days and youthfu' hearts, and 
 they are the only jewels o' life."
 
 326 THE INHEllTTANCK. 
 
 Gertrude could not urge it, but from a feeling 
 of delicacy towards her uncle'^s painful reminiscen- 
 ces, she put aside the trinket, and resolved never 
 again to wear it in his presence. 
 
 It is rarely that feelings raised above the or- 
 dinary pitch can be long indulged in this strange 
 world, where the most opposite emotions are 
 constantly coming in contact, and where the mind 
 is for ever in a state of ebb and flow. Mr 
 Ramsay'^s nature had been softened, and all its 
 best ingredients called forth, at sight of the love- 
 token of his early days, and the mournful associa- 
 tions which followed in its train ; but the gentler 
 current of his soul was speedily checked by the 
 entrance of the various members of the family, 
 as they came severally dropping in fi-esh from 
 their toilettes, and last, if not least, uncle Adam's 
 
 antipathy. Miss Bell. 
 
 Squeezing herself on the little sofa between 
 
 Miss St Clair and him, she exclaimed, " What 
 
 a beautiful flower that is, cousin I — where did you 
 
 get it .^'' 
 
 " Mr Ramsay was so good as to give it to me," 
 
 answered she. 
 
 " Indeed ! I suppose then it is from Bloom-
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 327 
 
 Park, uncle ? You have charming greenhouses 
 there, I understand — that is what I regret so 
 much at Thornbank. You know the ^lajor has 
 taken that in the meantime ; but I don't think it 
 will answer, as there are no hot-houses, and the 
 Major has been accustomed to such charming 
 fruits in India, that I'm afraid he will miss his 
 pines sadly." 
 
 " I suppose there will be plenty o' gude neeps," 
 said Mr Ramsay ; *' neeps like succur — he can 
 take ane o' them when he's dry." 
 
 Miss Bell reddened, but affecting not to hear, 
 returned to the charge. 
 
 " Thornbank is no great distance from Bloom- 
 Park, uncle, quite an easy walk, I should think." 
 
 " I never measured it," was the laconic reply. 
 
 Finding it was not by way of Bloom-Park she 
 was likely to arrive at uncle Adam's pocket, Miss 
 Bell now went more directly to the point. 
 
 " Do you know, imcle, I could be almost jea- 
 lous of my cousin for ha\4ng got that beautiful 
 japonica from you, while poor I have not so 
 much as a single leaf from you by way of keep- 
 sake." 
 
 Mr Ramsay, with a bow and a sardonic smile.
 
 328 THE II^HERITANCK. 
 
 here presented her with the piece of southern- 
 wood he held in his hand. 
 
 " Well, uncle, I assure you, I shall value this 
 very much, and lay it up with the rest of my 
 wedding presents — and by-the-bye, I have never 
 showed you all the fine things my kind friends 
 have presented to me. Good old Mrs Waddell 
 of Waddell Mains has presented me with a most 
 beautiful antique silver cup, which, it seems, was 
 the Major's christening bowl." 
 
 "It will be ancient enough then, nae doot," 
 observed uncle Adam. 
 
 " My excellent aunts have sent me a very 
 handsome tea-pot, and—-" 
 
 "A fool and his money's soon parted; they had 
 very little to do to send ony such thing."" 
 
 " Why surely, uncle, you know it is the cus- 
 tom, all the world over, for persons in my situa- 
 tion to receive presents, and " 
 
 " Miss Bell Black, I've seen something mair 
 o' the world than you've done ; and I can tell ye 
 some o' its customs that ye maybe dinna ken yet 
 — in Russia, for instance, the present to persons 
 in your situation is " 
 
 " O ! for Heaven's sake !" — interrupted Miss
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 329 
 
 Bell, with an instinctive dread of the knout — 
 " don't set up these bears as models for us — the 
 customs of our own country surely ought to guide 
 us on these occasions.'"* 
 
 c ■ '' It's a very senseless custom, in my opinion,'' 
 said Mr Ramsay. '' It's like casting pearls before 
 swine to be lavishing presents on a woman that's 
 at the very pinnacle o' human happiness and 
 grandeur — it's you that should mak presents to 
 puir single folk that ha'enae Major WaddeUs to 
 set them up wi' Ingee shawls, and carbuncles, and 
 
 fans — and oo, I can compare ye to naething 
 
 but a goddess the noo — let me see, which o' them 
 is't ? A Juno ? na, I'm thinkin' it'U rather be a 
 
 Here uncle Adam was to tickled with his own 
 jeu de mot, that he laughed till the tears ran down 
 his cheeks. The insult was too broad, even for 
 Miss Bell, who walked away in silent indignation ; 
 then, recovering himself, he pointed after her to 
 Gertrude, and said — 
 
 " That creature's folly's just like dust — drive 
 it out o' ae thing, and it just flees to anither." 
 
 Miss Black was the next of the party who ar- 
 rived, and Gertrude, attracted by her mildness and 
 
 <fl^
 
 630 THE INHElilTANCi:. 
 
 good sense, would fain have exchanged the gall 
 and vinegar of uncle Adam for her more pleasing 
 converse. But the obstreperous mirth of the 
 children, and the noisy tattle of Bob and Davy, 
 effectually precluded any interchange of speech 
 beyond the ordinary salutations of meeting. 
 
 The Fairbairn family (including the Major) 
 were now waited for with outward impatience by 
 Mr Black, with inward anxiety by Mrs Black ; — 
 Mr Black openly avowed his hunger — Mrs Black 
 vainly endeavoured to disguise her apprehensions 
 that the beef would be roasted to a cinder (a thing 
 Mr Black could not endure) — and that the rice 
 (which the Major was so particular about) would 
 be all in a lump, instead of being — as well boiled 
 rice ought to be — each and every particular grain 
 separate by itself. All this, and much more, 
 poor Mrs Black revolved in her own mind, as she 
 sat, like a second Mrs Blue Beard, ever and anon 
 calling to the children to look out, and see if they 
 saw any body coming. 
 
 At length the Fairbairn coach was descried, and 
 loudly proclaimed. The bell was rung — the din- 
 ner was ordered. Bob and Davy were ordered 
 out of two arm-chairs they had taken possession
 
 CHAPTER XXIX, 3S1 
 
 of. Mrs Black smoothed her gown, and put on 
 a ceremonious face, while Mr Black hastened to 
 the door to be ready to receive Mrs Fairbairn 
 with due respect. But no Mrs Fairbairn was 
 there — ^in her stead, however, was Miss Becky 
 Duguid, her cousin ; and the cause of Mrs Fair- 
 bairn's absence was accounted for by reason of poor 
 little Charlotte having been very cross all day, and 
 her mama thinking there was a tooth coming ; 
 and she would not leave her mama, and her 
 mama could not leave her, &c. &c. &c. All this 
 was duly set forth by Mr Fairbairn on one hand, 
 while Miss Becky was making her own personal 
 apologies on the other. She was really such a 
 figure, she was quite ashamed to appear ; but she 
 had no idea of coming, for it had been all settled 
 that she was to stay with Charlotte, while Mrs 
 Fairbairn was away ; and at one time Charlotte 
 had agreed to let her mama go ; and her mama 
 had dressed herself, and was all ready to set out ; 
 and then she took a crying fit when the carriage 
 was at the door, and so her mama was obliged to 
 give up the point, and stay at home ; and then 
 i\Ir Fairbairn had insisted on her coming in Mrs 
 Fairbairn's place just as she was. ]\Iiss Becky's
 
 332 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 apologies were of course met with protestations, 
 that there was no occasion for any — that she was 
 perfectly well dressed — that it was merely a fami- 
 ly dinner — an easy party — none but friends, and 
 so forth. But, to tell the truth, Miss Becky's 
 dress did require an apology, for the marks of 
 children's fingers were upon her gown — her cap 
 looked as if it had been sat upon, and her shawl 
 even bore symptoms of having served to play at 
 bo-peep ! In short. Miss Becky had the tout en- 
 semble of a poor elderly maiden aunt ; and such, 
 indeed, was her history and character, as it is, 
 alas ! of many others ; but a slight sketch may 
 serve to describe the genus, and give a tolerably 
 faithful picture of Juntimony.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 3 S3 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 How happy is the blameless rental's lot ! 
 
 Pope. 
 
 Miss Betty Duguid, as a single woman, had 
 vainly expected to escape the cares and anxieties 
 of the married state. She had heard and seen 
 much of the indifference or the ill humour of 
 husbands — of the troubles and vexations of chil- 
 dren — and she thought from these e^'ils I am at 
 least free ; — I can go where I like, do what I like, 
 and live as I like. But poor Miss Becky soon 
 found her mistake. Brothers and sisters mar- 
 ried ; — nephews and nieces sprung up on all 
 hands, each and all expecting to be distinguished 
 by Aunt Becky's bount)*, while every parent le- 
 vied the most unconscionable taxes upon her time 
 and capabilities. 
 
 '* Aunt Becky will give me this,'' said one ; 
 " you know she has no use for money.*' 
 
 " Aunt Becky will do that," said another ; 
 " for she has always plenty of time."
 
 334 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " Aunt Becky will go there," cried a third ; 
 " she likes a long walk." 
 
 But even the labours imposed upon her by her 
 own relations were nothing compared to the 
 constant demands made upon her by the world 
 in general, i. e. by the whole circle of her ac- 
 quaintances ; — all under the idea, that, as a single 
 woman, she could have nothing to do but oblige 
 her friends. When in town, her life was de- 
 voted to executing commissions from the coun- 
 try — inquiring the character of servants — hiring 
 governesses and grooms — finding situations for 
 wet nurses — getting patterns of pelisse cloths from 
 every shop in town — trying to get old silks match- 
 ed with new — gowns made — gauzes dyed — fea- 
 thers cleaned — fans mended, parcels booked, &c. 
 &c. &c. The letters always beginning, " As I 
 know you do not grudge your trouble, and will be 
 walking about at any rate, I must beg the favour, 
 when you are quite at leisure," and so and so ; 
 and ending with, '' As I find I am really in want 
 of the things, and the carrier leaves town on 
 Thursday, I trust you will contrive to have every 
 thing ready by that time." But one of the letters, 
 dropped by Miss Becky in the course of her per-
 
 (HAPTEE XXX. 335 
 
 ambulations, will best illustrate this part of her 
 personal narrative. 
 
 " My Dear Miss Becky, 
 
 " I take this opportunity of letting you know 
 we are all tolerably well at present, and trust you 
 continue to enjoy your usual good health. I 
 return the tea you sent last, as we all think it very 
 inferior to that you sent formerly ; and as there 
 has been rather a fall upon the price of teas, 
 there can be no reason for such a falling off in 
 the quality ; and unless Candytuft can give some- 
 thing very superior at the same price, I would 
 just return it, and try some other shop, and have 
 nothing more to do with Candytuft. Eliza and 
 Jane, with their best love, take this opportunity 
 of sending in their old black velvet pelisses, 
 which they wish you to consult Yellowleys the 
 dyer about ; they have been told that black vel- 
 vet can be dyed either grass green, or bright 
 crimson, and if Yellowleys can ic arrant their 
 standing, they would prefer haWng them done 
 a good rich crimson ; but if not, they must just 
 put up with a full green, as much on the grass, 
 and o^the bottle, as possible. 
 
 " I am sorry to tell you your protegee^ Jenny
 
 336 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 Snodgrass, has turned out very ill. I find her 
 lazy and idle, dirty, disobliging, and insolent, and 
 not at all the person I was led to expect from 
 your character of her. I must, therefore, trouble 
 you to be on the look-out for another. You 
 know it is not much I require of my servants ; 
 but there are some things it is impossible to dis- 
 pense with, and which I must make a point of. 
 Of course, she must be perfectly sober, honest, 
 conscientious, and trust-worthy, and in every re- 
 spect unexceptionable in her morals. She must 
 be stout, active, cleanly, civil, obliging, quiet, or- 
 derly, good-tempered, neat-handed, and particu- 
 larly tidy in her person. All that I require of 
 her is to be an excellent worker at her needle, a 
 thorough washer and ironer, and a generally use- 
 ful and accommodating servant. For such a 
 servant I shall not grudge fifty shillings for the 
 first half year, (tea included;) and, if she gives per- 
 fect satisfaction in every respect, I shall not stand 
 with her for ten shillings more for the next term. 
 Margaret sends her affectionate remembrance, 
 and when you are at leisure, requests you will or- 
 der a pair of stays for her from Brisbane's as soon 
 as possible, as she is in great want. She sends a 
 pair of old ones for a pattern, but they don't fit ;
 
 CHAPTtK XXX. 33T 
 
 you must tell him, they are both too tight and 
 too short, and the shoulder-straps too narrow by 
 B.fuU straw-breadth. The old busk, she thinks, 
 may do, or if it should be too short, perhaps you 
 may be able to get it exchanged for one longer. 
 As Flint the gun-smith's is no great distance 
 from Brisbane's, John would be much obliged to 
 you when you are there, if you would step to him, 
 and tell him that he is going to send his gun to 
 have the lock mended, and to be sure to have it 
 done in the most complete manner, and as soon 
 as he possibly can, as the shooting-season is com- 
 ing on. When done, he may send it to you, 
 with a couple of pounds of gunpowder, and a bag 
 of small shot. No. 5. As the holiday time is com- 
 ing on, we may look for the boys some of these 
 days, and, (if it is not putting you to any incon- 
 venience,) as the coach stops, you know, at the 
 Blue Boar, perhaps you will have the goodness 
 to have your Nanny waiting at the office for 
 them ; and if you can manage to keep them till 
 Monday, it will be adding to the favour ; but they 
 will require constant watching, as you know what 
 romps they are, and, for any sake, contrive to 
 keep them out of the way of the gimpowder. I 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 338 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 do not expect to be confined before the 29th at 
 soonest ; so if you can manage to come to us be- 
 twixt and the 20th, it will be very agreeable to 
 us all, I assure you. I was in hopes I should 
 not have had any more to trouble you with at 
 present, but upon hearing that I was writing to 
 you, Tom begs me to say, that he wishes very 
 much to get some good fly-hooks for trout-fish- 
 ing, four red cocks'* hackle-body, four black green 
 plover's-tuft, with a light starling's-wing body, 
 and four broicn woodcocks'-wing, and hareV 
 foot-body. I hope you will be able to read this, 
 as I assure you it has cost me some labour to 
 write it from Tom's diction. He desires me to 
 add, you will get them best at Phin's, fishing-rod- 
 maker, at the east end of the High Street, Jifth 
 door up the second stair on the left hand ; you 
 will easily find it, as there is a large pasteboard 
 trout hanging from the end of a fishing-rod for a 
 sign. He also wants a pirn of fishing-line, and 
 a few good stout long-shayiked bait-hook^. If 
 you happen to see your friend Miss Aiken, you 
 may tell her the turban you ordered for me is the 
 very same of one she made for me tivo years ago, 
 and which I never liked. I have only worn it
 
 CHAPTEll XXX. 339 
 
 once^ or twice at most, so, perhaps, she will have 
 no objections to take it back, and make me a neat^ 
 fashiojiahle cap instead. I am afraid you will 
 think us very troublesome, but I know you do 
 not grudge a little trouble to oblige your friends. 
 Mr Goodwilly and the young people unite with 
 me in best wishes ; and I remain, my dear Miss 
 Duguid, 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Grace Goodwtlly/"' 
 
 " P. S. — Eliza and Jane beg you will send 
 them some patterns of summer-silks, neither too 
 light nor too dark, both figured and plain, with 
 the different widths and i:>rices, and also that you 
 would inquire what is the lowest price of the hand- 
 somest ostrich feathers that can be had ; and if 
 you happen to see any very pretty wreaths, you 
 might price them at the same time, as they are 
 divided between feathers and flowers ; those you 
 sent from Trashbag's were quite soiled, and look- 
 ed as if they had been worn. Mr Goodwilly 
 takes this opportunity of sending in a couple of 
 razors, which he begs you will send to Steele the 
 cutler's at the back of the Old Kirk Stile, to be
 
 i340 THE INHEKITANCE. 
 
 sharpened immediately, as that is a thing he can- 
 not want. Margaret bids me tell you to desire 
 Brisbane not to put magic laces to her stays, and 
 to be sure that the stitching is stout axidjlrm. 
 Any day that you happen to be passing Seaton 
 the saddler's, Mr Goodwilly begs you will have 
 the goodness to inquire what would be the lowest 
 price of new stuffing the side-saddles, and new 
 lackering the carriage-harness. I think it as well 
 to send in my turban, that you may try Miss Ai- 
 ken, and I shall think her extremely disobliging 
 if she refuses to take it back, as it will be money 
 thrown into the Jli^e if she does not, for it shall 
 never go upon my head. 
 
 " Yours with much regard, 
 
 " G. G." 
 
 " P. S. — I find it will be necessary to send Je- 
 mima in to Bain the dentist, to get some of her 
 teeth taken out, as her mouth is getting very 
 crowded. I would take her myself, but cannot 
 stand these things ; so must beg the favour of 
 you to go with her, and see it done. I fear it will 
 be a sad business, poor soul ! as there are at least 
 three that must come out, and great tusks they
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 341 
 
 are ! of course, it is not every one I would trust 
 her with for such an operation ; but I know I can 
 rely upon your doing every thing that can he 
 done. If Miss Aiken agrees to exchange the 
 turban for a cap, (as I have no doubt she will,) 
 be so good as tell her to keep it rather more on 
 the forehead, and not quite so much off the ears, 
 as the last one she made for me — which I never 
 liked. Will you ask that good-for-nothing crea- 
 ture. Heelpiece, if the children's shoes are ever 
 to be sent home ? 
 
 " Yours, in haste." 
 
 Sometimes Miss Becky betook herself to the 
 country, but though she often found retirement, 
 there was seldom rest. Whenever a gay husband 
 was leaving home. Miss Becky was in requisition 
 to keep his dull sickly wife company in his absence 
 —or, vice versa, when a young wife wished to 
 amuse herself abroad, " that good creature, Becky 
 Duguid,'" was sent for, to play backgammon with 
 her old ill-natured husband ; and, when both man 
 and wife were leaving home, then Becky Duguid 
 was called upon to nurse the children and mji- 
 nage the servants in their absence. Invitations
 
 342 THE INHEIUTANCE.. 
 
 abounded, but all to disagreeable scenes or dull 
 parties. She was expected to attend all accouche- 
 7nents, christenings, deaths, chestings, and bu- 
 rials — but she was seldom asked to a marriage, 
 and never to any party of pleasure. " O, Miss 
 Becky doesn't care for these things ; she would 
 like better to come to us when we're in a quiet way 
 by ourselves,'' was always the come off. "I don't 
 know what the cares of the married life are," Miss 
 Becky would sometimes say, and oftener think ; 
 " but I'm sure I know what the troubles of the 
 single state are to a stout, healthy, easy-temper- 
 ed woman like me : — What is it to be the wife of 
 one crabbed old man, to ha\dng to divert all the 
 crabbed old men in the country ? And what is it 
 to be the mother of one family of children, to 
 having to look after the children of all my rela- 
 tions and acquaintances ?'"' 
 
 But Miss Becky's reflections (like most people's 
 reflections) came too late to benefit herself She 
 was completely involved in the toils of celibacy 
 before she was at all aware of her danger, and 
 vain now would have been the attempt to extricate 
 herself. Such was Miss Becky Duguid, walking 
 in the vain show of liberty, but, in reality, fetter^
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 343 
 
 ed hand and foot by all the tender charities of life. 
 As such, it may be guessed, she formed no very 
 brilliant addition to the Bellevue party. Indeed, 
 such is the force of habit, she now felt quite out 
 of her element, when seated at her ease, without 
 any immediate caU on her time and attention ; for 
 even her little doings carried their sense of import- 
 ance along with them ; and, perhaps, Mrs Fry 
 never felt more inward satisfaction at the turning 
 of a soul from darkness to light, than did poor 
 Miss Becky when she had triumphantly dispatch- 
 ed a box fiill of well-executed commissions. 
 
 Dinner passed off uncommonly well — every 
 thing was excellent. — Uncle Adam behaved with 
 tolerable civility — the Major's black servant did 
 wonders — the room was hot — the party was large 
 — the dishes were savoury — the atmosphere was 
 one ambrosial cloud of mingled steams — the la- 
 dies' complexions got high ; — but, at length, 
 toasts having gone round, the signal was made, 
 and all was over I
 
 344 'nil-: inheritance. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bride, 
 Busk ye, busk ye, my wintome marrow ; 
 Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny bride. 
 And let us to the Braes of Yarrow. 
 
 There will we sport and gather dew. 
 Dancing while lav'rocks sing in the morning ; 
 There learn frae turtles to prove true ; 
 O ! Bell, ne'er vex me with thy scorning ! 
 
 Allan Ramsay. 
 
 Bright shone the morning of Miss Bell's nup- 
 tials, and all things looked auspicious. The col- 
 lation stood ready, for Mrs Black, like Lady Ca- 
 pulet on a similar, though less happy occasion, 
 had been astir from the second crowing of the 
 cock. 
 
 The guests were assembled — the clergyman had 
 arrived — the family were all in full dress — the 
 Major, in his catVeye brooch and London coat, 
 (the envy of Bob and Davy,) looked the gay
 
 C HArTblR XXXT, 345 
 
 bridegroom from top to toe. Nothing was want- 
 ing but the beauteous bride, and, at the proper 
 moment, decked in India muslin — a full dressed 
 head, done up with a profusion of beads, and 
 braids, and bands, and bows — a pocket-handker- 
 chief at her face, Miss Bell was led in. 
 
 The solemnity deepened — the clergyman clear- 
 ed his voice — the children were admonished by a 
 reproving look, that it was time to put on their 
 grave faces — the clatter of Bob and Davy was 
 hushed, and all the little disjointed groupes were 
 broken up, till at length the whole company was 
 regularly formed into one large formal, silent, so- 
 lemn circle. Miss Bell was now on the verge of 
 becoming Mrs Major Waddell — a metamorphosis 
 which could not be expected to take place with- 
 out some commotion. 
 
 Persons of fine feelings naturally shed tears up- 
 on these momentous occasions, and persons of or- 
 dinary feelings think they ought to do so too. In 
 short, the thing is always done, or appears to be 
 done, and not to be outdone — Miss Bell sobbed 
 aloud, and had even the vulgarity to blow her nose 
 — although, as Bob and Davy afterwards declar- 
 ed, that was all in the eye.
 
 346 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 Dr Johnson has remarked of the Episcopal mar- 
 riage service, that it is too refined — that it is cal- 
 culated only for the best kind of marriages — 
 whereas there ought to be a form for matches of 
 an inferior description, probably such as that 
 which now took place betwixt Major Andrew 
 Waddell and Miss Isabella Black. That objec- 
 tion certainly does not apply to the Presbyterian 
 form, which depends entirely upon the officiating 
 clergyman ; and, accordingly, is susceptible of all 
 the varieties of which the mind and manners of 
 man are capable — from the holy meekness and 
 simplicity of the Evangelical pastor, to the hum- 
 drum slipshod exhortations of the lukewarm mi- 
 nister, or the dull dogmas of the worldly-wise 
 doctor. It was a person of the latter description 
 who now performed the ceremony in a manner 
 which even Dr Johnson would scarcely have deem- 
 ed too good for the parties. 
 
 Mrs iNIajor Waddell having received the 
 congratulations of the company, withdrew, ac- 
 cording to etiquette, to change her nuptial-robe 
 for a travelling habit, and speedily re-entered, ar- 
 rayed in a navy-blue riding-habit, (the Major's 
 favourite colour,) allowed to sit uncommonly
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 347 
 
 well — a black beaver hat and feathers — yellow 
 boots — gold watch, and brooch containing the 
 Majors hair, set round with pearls. Altogether, 
 Mrs Major Waddell looked remarkably well, and 
 bore her new honours with a happy mixture of 
 dignity and affability. 
 
 The company were now conducted to the ban- 
 quet, which, though neither breakfast, dinner, or 
 supper, was a happy combination of all. There 
 was, of course, much cutting, and carving, and 
 helping, and asking, and refusing, and even some 
 pressing, and Will the foot-boy broke a decan- 
 ter, and Black Caesar spilt a very elaborate trifle, 
 but, upon the whole, every thing went on pro- 
 sperously. Mrs St Clair took care to seat herself 
 by the Major, and, aware that when people are 
 very happy, they are commonly very weak, she 
 seized her opportunity, and easily cajoled liim out 
 of his vote. 
 
 And now the tramphng of steeds, and crush of 
 wheels, annoiuiced the bridal equipage ; and the 
 Major, his lady, and Miss Lilly, who was to ac- 
 company them, prepared to depart. The lady, ac- 
 cording to custom, was hurried, or appeared to be 
 hurried, into the smart carriage-and-four that 
 
 10
 
 3^ THE INHKRITANCK. 
 
 awaited her. Miss Lilly followed ; but as she took 
 leave of Miss St Clair, she whispered, " I should 
 
 like very much to correspond with you, if ^ 
 
 but here Lilly was dragged away by her father, 
 with a reproof for keeping the young people wait- 
 ing. The happy party were now seated — the 
 door was shut — the smiles, and bows, and kissing 
 of hands, was renewed — the Major's black servant 
 skipped on the dicky — " Go on," was pronounced 
 — the drivers cracked their whips — the carriage 
 set off with a bound, and was soon rattling through 
 the streets of Barnford, — where many a gazing 
 eye and outstretched neck hailed it as it passed. 
 
 A great philosopher has asserted, that, " upon 
 all such joyous occasions, our satisfaction, though 
 not so durable, is often as lively as that of the 
 persons principally concerned;" but, upon the 
 present occasion, there certainly was little sympa- 
 thy in Mrs Major WaddelFs feelings, and those 
 of her friends and acquaintances. While she 
 rolled on, supremely blest, they solaced them- 
 selves with commiserating her hapless fate. 
 " Quite a mercenary marriage^ — poor thing — a 
 sad sacrifice — a man old enough to be her grand- 
 father — has met with seventeen refusals — fortune
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 349 
 
 come in of the telling — liver like a plumb-pud- 
 ding — false teeth — dreadful temper," &c. &c. 
 were buzzed from one end of the town to the 
 other ; but, happily, none of their stings penetrat- 
 ed the ear of the bride, who sat in all the bliss of 
 pompous ignorance. 
 
 Though births, marriages, and deaths, occur 
 every day, still they continue to excite an interest 
 beyond the ordinary events of life. The former 
 and the latter, indeed, though apparently more 
 important occurrences, certainly do not engage 
 the attention or occupy the minds of the great 
 mass of mankind (or, at least, of womankind) so 
 much as the less solemn act of marriage. Whe- 
 ther these being performed without our own con- 
 sent asked or obtained, afford less scope for ani- 
 madversion, or that marriage is a state in which 
 all are inclined to sympathize — the married from 
 fellow-feeling — the single from feelings which the 
 moralist or the metaphysician may declare, but 
 which it is no part of my business to investigate, 
 I shall, therefore, leave the point to be discussed 
 by those who are more competent, and return to 
 the company. 
 
 It is no easy matter for a party in full dress 
 11
 
 350 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 to pass away the morning when the business 
 for which they assembled is over — and where 
 tliere is nothing to gratify any one of the five 
 senses, it is then people feel, in their fullest ex- 
 tent, the pains and penalties of idleness. As soon 
 as their respective carriages drew up, the guests, 
 therefore, dropt off, and, as the last of them 
 wheeled out of sight, Mrs Black thanked her stars 
 she had seen all their backs.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 351 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 Thou wilt be like a lover presently, 
 And tire the hearer with a book of words. 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 It was with pleasure Gertrude hailed the state- 
 ly turrets of Rossville, as she beheld them rising 
 above the rich masses of wood which surrounded 
 them — and again her heart bounded with delight 
 as she thought — '' All this will one day be mine 
 — mine to bestow " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence even to herself, 
 but the image of Colonel Delmour rose to her 
 view, and she felt, that even the brilliant destiny 
 that awaited her would be poor and joyless, un- 
 less he were to partake of it. On alighting, Mrs 
 St Clair hastened to Lord Rossville to report to 
 him the success of her canvass, and Gertrude soon 
 found herself, she knew not how, strolling by the
 
 352 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 banks of the riyer with Colonel Delmour by her 
 side. 
 
 It is universally allowed, that, though no- 
 thing can be more interesting in itself than the 
 conversation of two lovers, yet nothing can be 
 more insipid in detail — just as the heavenly frag- 
 rance of the rose becomes vapid and sickly under 
 all the attempts made to retain and embody its 
 exquisite odour. Colonel Delmour certainly was 
 in love — as much so as it was in his nature to be 
 — but, as has been truly said, how many noxious 
 ingredients enter into the composition of what is 
 sometimes called love ! Pride — vanity — ambi- 
 tion — self-interest, all these had their share in 
 the admiration, which Colonel Delmour accorded 
 to the beauties and the graces of Miss St Clair. 
 In any situation of life, his taste would have led 
 him to admire her — but it was only as the heir- 
 ess of Rossville his pride would have permitted 
 him to have loved her. But he was aware of the 
 obstacles that stood in the way of his wishes, and 
 deemed it most prudent not to oppose himself 
 openly to them at present. He was conscious of 
 the odium he would incur, were he to enter the 
 lists as the rival of his brother, knowing, as he
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 353 
 
 had all along done, that that brother was the des- 
 tined husband of the heiress of Ross\'ille. His 
 aim, therefore, was to secure her affections in a 
 clandestine manner — leaving it to his brother to 
 make his proposals openly, and when they had 
 been rejected, he would then come forward and 
 prefer his suit. This manceiure would, to be 
 sure, expose Gertrude to the whole weight of her 
 uncle's displeasure, and, probably, bring much 
 persecution upon her, but with a character such 
 as hers, that would only tend to strengthen her 
 attachment, and Colonel Delmour was too selfish 
 to prize the happiness, even of the woman he 
 loved, beyond his own ; or rather, like many others 
 of the same nature, he wished that her happiness 
 should be of a reflected natiu-e, emanating sclely 
 from himself Ha\dng bewailed the necessity he 
 was under of leaving Rossville the following day, 
 he then gave way to the most vehement expres- 
 sions of despair, at the thoughts of leaving one a 
 thousand times dearer to him than life, and that, 
 too, without the only solace that could soften the 
 anguish of separation, the belief that his feelings 
 were understood — the hope that they might one 
 day be mutual. 
 
 VOL. I. Z
 
 o 
 
 354 THE INHEIHTAXCE. 
 
 Gertrude remained silent — but there was a deep 
 struggle in her breast — her mothers prejudice — 
 her uncle's plans — made her feel the dangers and 
 difficulties of their attachment, while they, at the 
 same time, served to heighten it. Colonel Del- 
 mour saw what was passing in her mind, and that 
 he must' now bring the matter to a decision. 
 
 With all the impassioned sophistry of which 
 he was master, he contrived to draw from Ger- 
 trude an indirect acknowledgment that he was not 
 indifferent to her, and he then urged the necessity 
 there was for carefully concealing their attach- 
 ment for the present. 
 
 " Can this be right ?'' thought Gertrude — and 
 her conscience told her — No — but averse as she 
 was to every species of dissimulation and deceit, 
 she was equally a stranger to the meanness of sus- 
 picion, and to suspect the man she loved was not 
 in her nature — love and suspicion were the very 
 antipodes of her mind. She therefore quickly 
 banished the slight doubt that had arisen, 
 though she could not so easily reconcile to her- 
 self the idea that she was acting a clandestine 
 part in thus deceiving, by not disclosing to her 
 mother what had passed. But Colonel Delmour
 
 CHAPTER xxxir. 355 
 
 besought her ^.vith so much earnestness to with- 
 hold the communication for the present, and she 
 dreaded so much to encounter her mother's vio- 
 lence and prejudice, that perhaps, on the whole, 
 she was not sorry for an excuse to indulge undis- 
 turbed yet a while in " Love's young dream.*' 
 Had Mrs St Clair ever been the friend of her 
 daughter, Gertrude would not have acted thus ; 
 for her nature was open and ingenuous, and she 
 would have disdained every species of concealment 
 and duplicity. But the whirlwind and the tem- 
 pest are not more baleful in their effects on the 
 material world, than tyranny and violence are de- 
 structive of all the finer qualities of the mind with 
 which they come in contact. They must either 
 irritate or deaden all those free-born affections of 
 the soul, which, like the first vernal shoots, pos- 
 sess a charm in their freshness alone, which art 
 and culture would in vain seek to impart. 
 
 When the lovers reached the Castle, it was 
 within a few minutes of the dinner hour, and Ger- 
 trude flew to her room, where she found her mo- 
 ther waiting for her. 
 
 " Where have you been, child r"" cried she, in 
 no very complacent tone. " Lord Rossville has
 
 356 THE INHEraTANCE. 
 
 been asking for you at least a dozen times, and 
 no one could give any account of you." 
 
 " I have been walking by tlie river, mama," re- 
 plied her daughter in some confusion. 
 
 " I wish you would leave off these idle rambles 
 of yours. — I am quite of the EarFs opinion, that 
 the less young ladies indulge in solitary rambles 
 the better.'' 
 
 " Mama, I was not — " alone, Gertrude would 
 have added, though in some little trepidation, but 
 Mrs St Clair interrupted her. 
 
 " Come — come, there is no time to waste in ex- 
 cuses — you will be late as it is, so make haste — 
 you ought to have remembered there was to be 
 company here to-day, to whom Lord Rossville 
 wished to present you in due pomp — perhaps to 
 serve some little political purpose ; but no matter 
 — he is a generous noble-minded man in spite of 
 his little peculiarities. He was anxious to have 
 seen you to-day for two purposes, which I am com- 
 missioned to fulfil ; the first is, that you are to be- 
 stow your attention ea^clusivelywpon Mr Delmour; 
 the next is, to decorate you with a splendid gift 
 for the occasion — luckily you are in looks to do 
 credit to my work— see, here is what your kind ge-
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 357 
 
 nerous uncle presents you with ;"' and opening a 
 jewel-case, she displayed a set of costly pearls. 
 A pang shot through Gertrude's heart as she 
 thought, " Would he have bestowed these upon 
 me, if he had known that T am acting in opposi- 
 tion to his wishes ? — Oh ! why am I compelled 
 thus to play the hypocrite ?" And she sighed, 
 and shrunk back, as her mother would have deck- 
 ed her in oriental magnificence. Mrs St Clair 
 looked at her with astonishment. 
 
 " What is the matter, Gertrude ? — this is a 
 strange time to sigh, when adorning with jewels 
 which even the future Countess of Rossville might 
 be proud to wear." 
 
 Gertrude passively extended her arm to have 
 the costly bracelets clasped on it; but Mrs St 
 Clair knew not that to those who had just been 
 plighting hearts, even Golconda's mines would 
 have seemed poor and dim — at that moment Ger- 
 trude felt that wealth and honoui's were but as 
 " painted clay."
 
 358 THE iNiiKiaTAxci: 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Is there place to write above one lover's name, 
 With honour in her heart ? 
 
 Old Play^ 
 
 Meaxwhile the carriages were beginning to 
 draw up in rapid succession, and Lord Rossville, 
 though fretting inwardly at his niece's delay, yet 
 received the company with much outward sereni- 
 ty. He felt that he was master of his own per- 
 son and manners, and all the dignity and urbani- 
 ty for which he flattered himself he was so cele- 
 brated, had now full scope in the absence of 
 Miss Pratt. His step was firmer — his chest was 
 broader — his nose was higher — his language was 
 finer — his sentences were longer — his periods 
 were rounder — in short, Richard was himself 
 again. 
 
 Already he had uttered many sensible, and
 
 CHArTEIl XXXllI. 3o9 
 
 even some witty sayings, to sucli of his guests as 
 had arrived ; while his mind was busy concoct- 
 ing a pun to be applied to Sir Peter Wellwood, 
 when he should appear. But, alas ! for the inse- 
 curity of the best laid schemes of human wisdom I 
 Sir Peter and Lady Wellwood were announced ; 
 and — horror of horrors I who should enter wdth 
 them but Miss Pratt I AVho can paint the Earl 
 as he stood, " pierced with severe amazement?'' 
 Not Celadon, when he beheld his Amelia struck 
 a blackened corse, gazed with more marble aspect 
 than did his Lordship at sight of the breathing 
 form of Miss Pratt. The half formed pun died 
 on his lips — a faint and indistinct notion of it 
 floated through his bewildered brain ; — it was to 
 have been something about a Well and a Wood, 
 or a Wood and a Well; but the EarFs wits were 
 in a wood ; and he could certainly have wished 
 Miss Pratt in a well. In vain did he even at- 
 tempt to say something of Wellcome ; — the words 
 clove to the roof of his mouth, and his looks did 
 not make up for the deficiencies of his tongue. 
 But ]\Iiss Pnitt had not been looked at for fifty 
 years to be disconcerted, at that time of life, by
 
 360 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 the looks of any man living, and she therefore 
 accosted him in her usual manner. 
 
 " Well, my Lord, you see IVe been better 
 than my word; I daresay you didn't think of 
 seeing me to-day, and, to tell you the truth, I 
 didn't think of it myself; but Sir Peter and 
 Lady Wellwood happened to call, en passant, at 
 Lady M'Caw's, and as they were so good as of- 
 fer me a seat in their carriage, I thought I 
 couldn't do better than just come and make out 
 the rest of my visit to you. Lady Betty, Lady 
 Millbank, Lady Restall, &c. &c. &c.; and in a 
 moment Miss Pratt was buzzing all round the 
 room. 
 
 At sound of the gong, Mrs St Clair had has- 
 tily put the last finish to her daughter's dress, 
 and hiuried her to the drawing-room. As they 
 entered, all eyes were turned towards them. 
 Lord Rossville was struck with the surpassing 
 Ijeauty of his niece, and attributing it entirely to 
 the effect of his pearls, he advanced from the cir- 
 cle in which he was standing, and taking her 
 hand with an air of gratified pride, led her to- 
 wards the company. He was in the act of pre-
 
 CHAPTER XXX] II. 361 
 
 senting her to a Dowager- jNIarchioness, for whom 
 he entertained a high veneration, when, at that 
 moment, Mr Lyndsay entered from the opposite 
 side of the room. Their eyes met for the first 
 time since that eventful midnight scene in the 
 wood — a slight suffusion crossed his face, but in 
 an instant the colour mounted to her very tem- 
 ples, and in answer to the Marchioness's introduc- 
 tory remarks, she stammered out she knew not 
 what. The consciousness of her confusion only 
 served to increase it — she was aware that the eyes 
 of the company were upon her, but she f elf only 
 the influence of Colonel Delmour's. 
 
 Lord Rossville, attributing his niece's embar- 
 rassment solely to awe and respect for himself 
 and his guests, was beginning to reassure and 
 encourage her in a manner to increase her con- 
 fusion tenfold, when fortunately dinner was an- 
 nounced. Amid the usual bustle of fixing the 
 order of procession, with ail the accompanyino- 
 
 ceremonies necessary to be observed in walkino- 
 
 o 
 
 from one room to another, Gertrude was recover- 
 ing her presence of mind, when, as Miss Pratt 
 passed, leaning on the arm of her ally. Sir Peter,
 
 362 THE IXHERITAXCE. 
 
 she whispered, " Aye ! these are pearls of great 
 price, indeed ! So, so — somebody has come good 
 speed. Love, like light, will not hide, ah, ha !"" 
 and with an intolerable tap of her fan, and a sig- 
 nificant chuckle, on she pattered, while again 
 Gertrude's cheeks were dyed with blushes. At 
 that moment Colonel Delmour, who had heard 
 Miss Pratt's remarks, accidentally trod upon her 
 gown in such a manner as almost to tear away the 
 skirt from the body. 
 
 " Was there ever the like of this f^'' cried she, 
 reddening with anger. " My good Plowman's 
 gauze ! Colonel Delmour, do you see what you've 
 done .^" But Colonel Delmour, without deign- 
 ing to take the least notice of the injury he had 
 inflicted, passed on to offer his arm to one of the 
 Miss Millbanks. 
 
 IVIiss Pratt's only solace, therefore, was the 
 sympathy of Sir Peter, to whom she detailed all 
 the mischief Colonel Delmour had done her, first 
 and last, concluding with a remark, which, though 
 in an affected whisper, was intended to reach his 
 ear — that indeed it was no wonder he came such 
 bad speed at the courting— she had need to be both
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 363 
 
 i\ bold woman and a rich one, who wovild choose 
 such a rough wooer. This disaster, however, liad 
 the effect of a quietus upon Miss Pratt for some 
 time, and Lord Rossville got leave to expand to 
 his utmost dimensions, unchecked by any inter- 
 ruptions from her. 
 
 None of the company, now assembled, seemed 
 to have any particular part to play in the great 
 drama of life ; they were all common-place, well- 
 bred, eating and drinking elderly lords and la- 
 dies, or well-dressed, talking, smiling, flirting, 
 masters and misses. Gertrude was as usual 
 appropriated by Mr Delmour, who paid her 
 much attention, and some very pretty compli- 
 ments in a gentlemanly but somewhat business- 
 like manner. Colonel Delmour sat, on the other 
 hand, silent, thoughtful, and displeased, neglect- 
 ing even the common attentions which politeness 
 required. 
 
 Mr Lyndsay w^as on the opposite side of the 
 table, and upon his asking Miss St Clair to drink 
 wine with him. Colonel Delmour turned his eye 
 quickly upon her, and again a deep blush man- 
 tled her checks, — something, perhaps, of wound-
 
 364 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ed pride at the suspicion implied in his glance, 
 or it may be of that shame natural to the inge- 
 nuous mind at the sense of mystery and conceal- 
 ment. Whatever its cause, its effect was suffi- 
 ciently visible on Colonel Delmour; he turned 
 pale with suppressed anger — bit his lip — nor ad- 
 dressed a single word to her during the whole of 
 dinner. 
 
 There is only this difference between a summer 
 and a winter party, that in winter the company 
 form into one large cluster round the fire, and in 
 summer they fall into little detached groupes, and 
 are scattered all over the apartment. Upon 
 entering the drawing-room, Gertrude had un- 
 consciously seated herself apart from every body 
 at an open window, where she thought she was 
 contemplating the beams of the setting sun as 
 they glowed upon the hills, and glittered through 
 the rich green foliage of some intervening elms. 
 But, in fact, she was ruminating on the various 
 occurrences of the day, and the awkward predica- 
 ment in which she found herself placed with Mr 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 She was roused from her reverie by some one 
 
 4
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 365 
 
 putting their hands before her eyes, and present- 
 ly the dreaded accents of Pratt smote her ear, as 
 she struck up, " As pensive I thought of my 
 love, eh ?"' Then, drawing in a chair, she seated 
 herself close by Miss St Clair, and taking her 
 hand with an air of friendly sympathy and per- 
 fect security, she began — ' 
 
 " I'm sure it must be a relief to you to have 
 got away from the dinner-table to-day. I really 
 felt for you, for I know by experience what my 
 gentleman is, when he is in his tantrams ; did you 
 see how he was like to tear me in pieces to-day 
 for nothing but because I happened to see how 
 the land lay between a certain person and you ? 
 Just look at my good Plowman's gauze,'' turning 
 round. " I assure you, my dear, I was very much 
 afraid, at one time, that you would have been 
 taken in by him ; for I saw that he made a dead 
 set at you from the first, and he can be very agree- 
 able when he chooses ; but, take my word for it, 
 he's a very impertinent, ill-bred, ill-tempered man 
 for aU that." 
 
 Colouring with confusion and indignation, Ger- 
 trude had sat silently enduring the obloquy la-
 
 3GG Tin: INIIEIJITAXCE. 
 
 vished on her lover, from utter inability to inter- 
 rupt her ; but at this climax she made a move- 
 ment to extricate herself, which, however, was in 
 vain. 
 
 Miss Pratt again seized the hand which had 
 
 been withdrawn, and with a significant squeeze, 
 
 resumed — " You needn't be afraid of me, my 
 
 dear, your secret's safe with me ; and to tell you 
 
 the truth, IVe suspected the thing for some time. 
 
 I onlv wish you had looked about you a little ; 
 
 there's Anthony Whyte has never so much as 
 
 seen you yet ; if he would but make up his mind 
 
 to marry, what a husband he would make ! very 
 
 different from our friend the Colonel, to be sure ; 
 
 many's the sore heart his wife will have, and 
 
 many a sore heart he has given already with his 
 
 flirtations, for he's never happy but when he's 
 
 making love to somebody or other, married or 
 
 single, it's all the same to him." 
 
 " Miss Pratt," cried Gertrude, in great emo- 
 tion, as she again tried to disengage herself from 
 
 her, " I cannot listen to " 
 
 " Well, my dear, it's very good of you to stand 
 up for him," with a pat on the shoulder ; " for
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. SGT 
 
 it's seldom ladies take such a lift of their cast lo- 
 vers ; but it's as well you should know all youVe 
 escaped"' — then lowering her voice to a mysteri- 
 ous whisper, " Just to give you one single trait 
 of him, which I know to be a fact — what do 
 you think of his owing Edward Lyndsay seven 
 thousand pound for his game debts ? — That 
 I can pledge myself for — I was staying"^ in the 
 house with them both at the time. I was up- 
 on a visit to Lady Augusta in London, and I 
 had good access to see what went on ; and I saw 
 rather more too than what they thought of. — 
 Edward Lyndsay was just of age then ; and he 
 was invited there to be presented and introduced 
 by the Delmours, — I suspect there was a scheme 
 for getting EdT\ ard to one of the misses — but it 
 wouldn't do. Well, the Colonel was by way of 
 introducing him into the fashionable circles, and 
 he soon landed him to the gaming-table, where he 
 lost some money ; but what do ye think of his 
 having to pay seven thousand jiound and upwards 
 for the Colonel ? — seven thousand pound gambled 
 away in one night, and not a shilling to pay it ! The 
 consequence was, he must have sold out, and been
 
 368 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 ruined for ever, if Edward Lyndsay had not ad- 
 vanced the money ; and, to this day, I'll be bound 
 for it, he has never touched one hal^ienny of prin- 
 cipal or interest. Where was it to come from ? He 
 lives far beyond his income — anybody may see 
 that, — with his curricle and his fine horses, and 
 his groom and his valet ; while there's the person 
 that he owes all that money to, keeps no carriage, 
 and rides all over the country without so much as 
 a servant after him ; and my gentleman can't go 
 to a neighbour's house without carrying a retinue 
 like a prince along with him. But the provoking 
 thing is, there's Lord Rossville and many other 
 people crying out upon Edward for his extravagance 
 and folly in having muddled away his money, and 
 not living as he should do, and making no figure 
 in the world — when I know that he's just pinch- 
 ing and saving to make up the money and clear 
 his estate from the debt he contracted upon it for 
 his pretty cousin there ! I once gave Lord Ross- 
 ville a hint of how matters stood, but he's so infatu- 
 ated with these Delmours, I thought he woidd have 
 worried me — not that he's very fond of the Colo- 
 nel, or likes his company — but he's proud of him,
 
 CHAPTKR XXXIII. 369 
 
 because he's the fashion, and has made a figure — 
 and so he goes on telling every body what great 
 characters the Delmours are. I assure you, it's 
 all I can do to keep my tongue within my teeth 
 sometimes ; — but Colonel Delmour's a man I 
 wouldn't like to provoke. — "What do you think of 
 his having the impertinence to tell me, that, if he 
 found me meddling in his affairs, he would pull 
 Anthony Whyte's nose for him ! I should like 
 to see him offer to lay a finger on Anthony 
 Whyte ! But that's just a specimen of him — 
 O ! he's an insolent, extravagant, selfish puppy ! 
 —But, are you well enough, my dear .^" 
 
 Gertrude had made many ineffectual attempts 
 to stop the torrent of Miss Pratt's invective ; but 
 that lady was no more to be stopped in her career 
 than a ship in full speed, or a racer on the course. 
 At length uttering an exclamation, she abruptly 
 extricated herself from her grasp, and quitted the 
 room. 
 
 There was commonly a mixture of truth and 
 falsehood in all ^liss Pratt's narrations ; but it 
 must be owned the present formed an exception 
 — perhaps a solitary one, to her ordinary prac- 
 tice. She had for once told a round unvarnished 
 
 VOL. I. A a
 
 37^ THE I?;HE11ITANCE. 
 
 tale, with merely a little exaggeration as to the 
 sum, and from once she had spoken from actual 
 knowledge, not from mere conjecture. Miss 
 Pratt had, by some means or other, best known 
 to herself, contrived to lay her hands upon a let- 
 ter of Colonel Delmour's, which had led her into 
 the secret of the money transaction — a transac- 
 tion which, from honour and delicacy on the one 
 side — pride and shame on the other, would other- 
 wise have been for ever confined to the parties 
 themselves. 
 
 In vain did Gertrude strive to still the tumult 
 of her mind in the silence of her own chamber — 
 in vain did she repeat a thousand times to herself 
 — " Why should I for an instant give ear to 
 the paltry gossip of a person I despise ? — How is 
 it that I can be guilty of injuring the man I love 
 ]:)y yielding the shadow of belief to the calumnies 
 of a Miss Pratt ? — No, no, I do not — I will not 
 believe them. — Shame to me for even listening to 
 them ! — False — fickle — mercenary — a gamester 
 — impossible !""* 
 
 Alas ! Gertrude believed it was impossible, 
 because she loved — because all the affections of a 
 warm, generous, confiding heart, were lavished on
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 371 
 
 this idol of her imagination, which she had deck- 
 ed in all the attributes of perfection. And yet, 
 such is the delusion of passion, that, could she 
 even have beheld him bereft of all those virtues 
 and graces with which her young romantic heart 
 had so hberally invested him — even then she 
 would not have ceased to love. Ah ! what wiU 
 not the heart endure, ere it will voluntarily sur- 
 render the hoarded treasure of its love to the cold 
 dictates of reason, or the stern voice of duty !
 
 372 Tin: ixheiiitan^ce. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 O ! how hast thou with jealousy infected 
 The sweetness of affiance ! 
 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 It was so long ere Gertrude could compose 
 herself sufficiently to return to the drawing-room, 
 that, when she did, she found the gentlemen had 
 already joined the party. In some confusion she 
 took the first seat that offered, which happened 
 to be part of a sofa on which one of the Miss Mill- 
 banks was lounging, and on the back of which 
 Mr Lyndsay was leaning. But it was not till she 
 had seated herself that she was aware of his vici- 
 nity. To add to her embarrassment. Miss Pratt 
 crossed from the opposite side of the room, and 
 took her seat along side of her. 
 
 " I was just going to look for you, my dear,'' 
 said she, in one of her loud, all-pervading whis- 
 pers ; " I was afraid you wasn't very well ; but
 
 CHAITER XXX IV. 373 
 
 upon saying that to Mrs St Clair, she said, she 
 daresay'd you were just taking an evening ramble, 
 for that you're a great moonlight stroller, like 
 some other people," with a significant smile at Mr 
 Lyndsay, and again Gertrude felt the colour 
 moimt to her cheeks. She raised her eyes, but 
 met his fixed on her with such an expression of 
 deep and thoughtful inquiry, as redoubled her 
 confusion ; and, scarcely knowing what she said, 
 she uttered an exclamation at the heat of the 
 room. 
 
 " Are you too hot, my dear .?" cried her tor- 
 mentor, taking a fan out of her pocket, and rising 
 as she spoke ; " then here's work for you, Mr Ed- 
 ward ; sit you down there and fan Miss St 
 Clair — not that I want to make a coolness be- 
 tween ye," added she, in a half whisper, loud 
 enough to reach Colonel Delmour, who stood by 
 the fire sipping his coffee ; " but I really don't 
 think the room's hot ; it must just be coming in 
 from the cold air that makes you feel the room 
 warm. — You would do well, Mr Edward, to give 
 this fair lady a lecture on her moonhght ram- 
 bles. I " 
 
 " It is insupportable !" cried Gertrude, starting
 
 374 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 up, unable longer to endure Miss Pratt*'s maUa^ 
 propos observations. 
 
 " It is very hot," said Lyndsay, scarcely less 
 embarrassed than herself. " Shall we seek a little 
 fresh air at the window?'^ And offering his 
 arm, he led her towards one, and threw it open. 
 Gertrude's agitation rather increased than dimi- 
 nished. 
 
 " Oh ! — what must you think of me !" at 
 length she exclaimed, in a low voice of repressed 
 anguish. 
 
 " Were I to tell you," replied Mr Lyndsay in 
 some emotion — " I fear you would think me very 
 presumptuous." 
 
 " Impossible !" said Gertrude, with increasing 
 agitation as she advanced on this perilous subject 
 
 — " I feel that I must ever " She stopped— 
 
 her mother's caution, her own promises, recurred 
 to her, and she felt that her impetuosity was hur- 
 rying her beyond the bounds prescribed. Both 
 remained silent, but Lyndsay still held her hand, 
 and looked upon her with an expression of no com- 
 mon interest. He was, however, recalled to other 
 considerations by the approach of Mr Delmour 
 when, relinquishing her hand, he made some re-
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. Sj5 
 
 mark on the heat of the room having been too 
 much for Miss St Clair. 
 
 " It is only in the sphere of my fair cousin her- 
 self," said Mr Delmour, with a bow and a smile ; 
 " the fire of her eyes seldom fails to kindle a flame 
 wherever their influence is felt." 
 
 Gertrude scarcely heard this flat, hackneyed 
 compliment ; but she felt the taunt implied, when 
 Colonel Delmour, who was always hovering near 
 her, said with asperity — 
 
 " Such fires, however, are sometimes mere ig- 
 nesfatui, which shine only to deceive." 
 
 " A cruel aspersion upon glow-worms, and la- 
 dies'* eyes," said Mr Lyndsay — " since both may, 
 and certainly do, sometimes shine without any 
 such wicked intention." 
 
 " Were it not that the thing must be," said 
 Mr Delmour, with a bow to Miss St Clair — " I 
 should imagine it would be difl^icult to overheat 
 this room ; it is large, not less, I take it, than 
 forty by thirty, lofty, prodigious walls, and a north- 
 west exposure ; if it were well lighted, indeed, 
 that might have some effect, but at present, it is 
 rather deficient ; there ought to be, at least, a 
 dozen lamps instead of those pale ineffectual
 
 376 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 wax candies ; but, in fact, it is not every one who 
 knows how to light a room ; — in a well-lit room, 
 there ought not to be a vestige of shade, while 
 here, for instance, where we are standing, it is ab- 
 solute darkness visible." 
 
 " Yes, it is a sort of a Pandemonium light," 
 said Colonel Delmour, scornfully. 
 
 " The mind is its own place, you know, Del- 
 
 mour," said Mr Lyndsay ; " and in itself " 
 
 he stopped and smiled. 
 
 " Go on," cried Colonel Delmour, in a voice 
 of suppressed anger ; " pray, don't be afraid to 
 finish your quotation." 
 
 Mr Lyndsay repeated, — *' can make a heaven 
 of hell, a hell of heaven." 
 
 Colonel Delmour seemed on the point of giving 
 way to his passion ; but he checked himself, and 
 affected to laugh, while he said — " A flattering 
 compliment implied, no doubt, but if I am the 
 Lucifer you insinuate, I can boast of possessing 
 his best attributes also, for I too bear a mind not 
 to be changed by place or time, and in my creed, 
 constancy still ranks as a virtue." He looked at 
 Gertrude as he pronounced these words in an em- 
 phatic manner.
 
 CHAPTER XXX IV. [if ( 
 
 " What are you all doing in this dark corner ?'"' 
 asked Lady Betty, as she advanced with Flora 
 under her arm. 
 
 " We came here to be cool,"' answered Mr 
 Lyndsay, " and we are all getting very warm.^'' 
 
 " That is most extraordinary," said her Lady- 
 ship — " but did any of you lift the third volume 
 of The ^Midnight Wanderer ?"" 
 
 " We'll thank you to pull down that win- 
 dow,"' cried Miss Pratt. " I wonder what you're 
 all made of, for we are perfectly starving here 
 —sit a little more this way, Sir Peter — your 
 moonlight days and mine are both over. — In- 
 deed, as Anthony Whyte says, I never see any 
 thing but a swelled face and a flannel lappet 
 in the moon." Then going to Mr Lyndsay, she 
 touched his elbow, and beckoned him a little 
 apart. 
 
 " So — I wish you joy — the cat's out of the 
 bag — but take care what you're about, for a cer- 
 tain person," pointing to Colonel Delmour, " will 
 be ready to bite your nose off — Ton my word, 
 you quiet people always play your cards best af- 
 ter all ;" — and with a friendly pat on the back, 
 Miss Pratt whisked away, and the next minute
 
 378 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 was bustling about a whist party with Lord Ross- 
 ville and Sir Peter. 
 
 The arrangement of their table was always a 
 work of delicacy and difficulty — the Earl was fond 
 of whist, and so was Miss Pratt ; — and for upwards 
 of thirty years they had been in the occasional ha- 
 bit of playing together in the most discordant man- 
 ner imaginable. Miss Pratt played like lightning 
 — the Earl pondered every card, as though life de- 
 pended on the cast. Every card — every spot of a 
 card, out or in, was registered in Pratt's memory, 
 ready at a call. The Earl was a little confused, 
 and sometimes committed blunders, which were 
 invariably pointed out, and animadverted upon by 
 Miss Pratt, whether as his antagonist or his part- 
 ner. Then she had the impertinence to shake her 
 head, and hem, sigh, and even groan at times ; 
 and to sum up the whole, when they played to- 
 gether, she had the assurance to insist upon tak- 
 ing the tricks, which was an usurpation of power 
 beyond all endurance. 
 
 While the seniors of the company were arrang- 
 ing themselves at their several card parties, the 
 younger part repaired to the music-room, where 
 Gertrude was urged to sing by all present, ex- 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTEll XXXIV. 379 
 
 cept Colonel Delmour, who preserved a moody si- 
 lence. Teazed into compliance, she at length 
 seated herself at the harp, and began to prelude. 
 
 " You accompany Miss St Clair, Frederick ?" 
 said Mr Delmour to his brother, in a tone of in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " Miss St Clair has found out, that I am a 
 bad accompaniment," answered he in a manner 
 which only Gertrude could understand. " To one 
 who sings so true, so perfectly free from all fal- 
 setto, it must be a severe penance to find herself 
 clogged with me, who am a perfect novice in that 
 art, as in every other.*" 
 
 " I prefer singing alone," said Gertrude, vain- 
 ly trying to conceal her agitation at this insult- 
 ing speech. 
 
 '' It is extremely mortifying," said Mr Lynd- 
 say, instantly attracting the attention to himself, 
 " that I am seldom or never asked to sing — it is 
 difficult to account for this insensibility on the 
 part of my friends in particular — of the world in 
 general ; but I am resolved to remain no longer 
 silent under such contumely. Miss St Clair will 
 take me under her patronage — my wrongs shall 
 be heard in full bravura this very night — where
 
 SHO THE INilLlUTANCE. 
 
 shall I find words vast enough to express my 
 feelings P'** And he turned over the music, while 
 he hummed Guarini's " Bring me a hundred 
 reeds of decent growth to form a pipe," &c. — then 
 selecting the beautiful arietta — 
 
 lo t'ameroj fin che sapra di Flora, 
 Coi baci i fiori accarezzar el monte 
 E sul mattin la rugia rosa Aurora, 
 Vedi molte stille, fecondar le piante, 
 lo t'amero, io t'araero, io t'amero ! 
 
 he placed it before Miss St Clair, saying, " Will 
 the mistress allow her protege to choose for her- 
 self and him ?" 
 
 Gertrude, though in some degree restored to 
 self-possession, could only bow her acquiescence ; 
 but the state of her feelings was such, as pre- 
 vented her doing justice either to herself or her 
 accompaniment. She was scarcely sensible of 
 the beauty of his style of singing. Neither was it 
 then she was struck with the singularity of hav- 
 ing lived so long under the same roof, without 
 being aware that he possessed a knowledge of 
 music which, with most people, would have form- 
 ed a prominent feature in their character, and 
 which they would long ere then have found an
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 381 
 
 opportunity of displaying. But Lyndsay did 
 nothing for display, and now his talents were mere- 
 ly brought out when they could be of service to 
 another. Gertrude, however, saw nothing of all 
 this — she saw nothing but that Colonel Delraour 
 had disappeared, upon Mr Lyndsay taking his sta- 
 tion by her. The song ended, she hastily relinquish- 
 ed her seat to another lady, and it was occupied in 
 rotation till carriages were announced, and the par- 
 ty broke up. Gertrude availed herself of the bustle 
 of departures to make her escape to her own 
 chamber ; but as she passed through the suite of 
 apartments, she found Colonel Delmour in one 
 of the most remote, pacing up and down with 
 every mark of disquiet. She would have retreat- 
 ed, but quickly advancing, he seized her hand ; 
 then, in the same cold ironical manner he had 
 hitherto practised, he requested that Miss St 
 Clair would honour him so far as to endure his 
 presence for a few moments. 
 
 " I know nothing Colonel Delmour can have 
 to say to me," answered Gertrude, roused to 
 something like indignation ; " unle ss, indeed,"to 
 apologize for his behaviour." 
 
 " Apologize !" repeated he with vehemence.
 
 382 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 " No, that certainly is not my purpose — unless 
 Miss St Clair will first deign to account for 
 lier's ; but the thing is impossible ; however I 
 might distrust others, I cannot disbelieve the 
 evidence of my own senses '' 
 
 " I am ignorant of your meaning ; — I cannot 
 
 listen to such frantic expressions " and she 
 
 sought to withdraw her hand from him. 
 
 " Frantic ! Yes, I am frantic to seek that 
 explanation from you which I have a right to 
 demand — and ivill demand from another quar- 
 ter." 
 
 *^ For mercy's sake ! tell me what is the mean- 
 ing of this .^" cried Gertrude, in great emotion. 
 " Why am I subjected to hear such violent — 
 such insulting language — and from you !" And 
 the tears burst from her eyes. 
 
 Colonel Delmour gazed upon her for a few 
 minutes in silence, then in a somewhat calmer 
 tone, and heaving a deep sigh, he proceeded — 
 
 " But a few hours ago, and tears from your 
 eyes would have been as blood from my own 
 heart — and even yet, deceived and injured as I 
 
 am ■'■* he stopped in much agitation ; then 
 
 again giving way to his passion — " But you
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 383 
 
 ask me why you are subjected to such language ? 
 — your own heart might have spared you that 
 question.'"' 
 
 " I have not deserved this — I will not endure 
 it ;"' and Miss St Clair again sought to leave the 
 room. 
 
 " Then why have / deserved — why must /en- 
 dure to be mocked and deluded with hopes you 
 never meant to realize ? — Yes — that cold-blooded 
 systematic puritan Lyndsay dares to love you — 
 and you but he shall answer for this to me." 
 
 For a moment Gertrude regarded him with a 
 look of the most unfeigned astonishment, which 
 only gave way to the deep blush that dyed her 
 cheeks — but it was not the blush of shame or con- 
 fusion, but the glow of indignation, and, with an 
 air of offended dignity, she said — 
 
 " Since you believe me capable, after what 
 passed to-day, of loving another, you might well 
 treat me as you have done ; but what am I to 
 think of one who could, for a single instant, sus- 
 pect me of such base — such monstrous duplici- 
 ty r 
 
 " Gertrude,'' cried Colonel Dehnour, in great 
 agitation, '' Gertrude, I am a wretch if you
 
 384 THE INIIEIUTANCE. 
 
 but why those blushes — that confusion at sight of 
 him ? — Why that air of intelligence that attends 
 your intercourse, and Did I not hear you my- 
 self, when you withdrew with him to the window, 
 ask, with all the solicitude of the most heart-felt 
 
 interest, what he must think of you ? he ! — 
 
 What would his thoughts signify to you if your 
 affections were mine ?" 
 
 Gertrude felt almost despair as she thought of 
 the impossibility of clearing herself from suspi- 
 cions, which she was aware there was but too 
 much reason to attach to her — and she remained 
 silent, while Colonel Delmour's eyes were fixed 
 upon her with an expression of the most intense 
 anxiety. At length, with a deep sigh, she said — 
 
 " That there exists a mutual cause of embar- 
 rassment betwixt Mr Lyndsay and me, I do not 
 deny ; but it is one which involves the interest of 
 a third person, and I dare not divulge it even to 
 you — that^ and that only, is the cause of the con- 
 cision you witnessed, and of the words you over- 
 heard — More I cannot — dare not say — I am 
 pledged to silence/' 
 
 " By him ?'' demanded Colonel Delmour im- 
 petuously. 
 
 11
 
 CHAPTEIl XXXIV. 385 
 
 ** No— by another-— but that other I may not 
 name.'' 
 
 Colonel Delmour still looked doubtingly. 
 
 ** And how long is this mysterious connection 
 to continue ?" 
 
 " Heaven only knows .'-—but do not — do not 
 ask me farther." 
 
 And as she bent her head dejectedly forward, 
 the string of pearls which hung from her neck at- 
 tracted her lover's eye, and again his wavering 
 suspicions were roused, as he remembered the con- 
 versation repeated by Miss Pratt. 
 
 " And these precious baubles !" cried he, point- 
 ing contemptuously to them — '' Do they form 
 part of the mysterious chain which links your 
 fate so indissolubly with that of Mr Lyndsay ?'' 
 
 " I see I am doubted — disbelieved — it is de- 
 grading to be thus interrogated I" and with an 
 air of displeasure, foreign to her natural charac- 
 ter, she rose to quit the room. 
 
 " Gertrude," cried Colonel Delmour, detaining 
 her, " you know not — you cannot conceive how 
 my heart is racked and tortured. — I will— I must 
 have my doubts ended one way or other ere we 
 
 VOL. T. B b
 
 386 THE INHERITANCE. 
 
 part — perhaps for ever : — tell me then— are not 
 these the gift of that of Edward Lyndsay ?" 
 
 " The gift of Edward Lyndsay !" repeated 
 Gertrude, in the utmost amazement. " What 
 an idea !" and she almost smiled in scorn. " The 
 pearls are a present I received not many hours 
 since from Lord Rossville — I thought little of 
 them," added she, with a simple tenderness, which 
 carried conviction even to Colonel Delmour, " for 
 I had just then parted from you." 
 
 " Gertrude, dearest Gertrude, can you forgive 
 me ?" and he poured forth the most vehement re- 
 proaches on himself, mingled with such expres- 
 sions of love towards her as failed not to obtain 
 pardon. He related to her what had passed with 
 Miss Pratt relative to the pearls, and in so doing 
 served a double purpose, by clearing himself from 
 the charges that had been brought against him 
 by that lady. This trait of her served to show 
 Gertrude how little dependence ought to be plac- 
 ed on her report, and she felt as though she too 
 had been guilty of injustice towards her lover, in 
 even listening to her malicious insinuations. 
 
 Though somewhat pained, yet, on the whole, 
 she was not displeased at what had passed. Like
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 387 
 
 many others, she cherished that fatal mistake — 
 that jealousy is the offspring of love, rather than 
 the infirmity of temper, and, as such, its excesses 
 were easily forgiven. In short, this was a lovers' 
 quarrel — 2^ first quarrel too, and, consequently, 
 served rather to heighten than diminish the mu- 
 tual attachment. 
 
 Delmour was to set off early the following 
 morning ; and Gertrude, too much agitated to re- 
 turn to the company, took leave of him, and 
 hastened to her own apartment, to hide her part- 
 ing tears. 
 
 END or VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 rniNTED IJY JOHX STATIK.
 
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