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 LI E. R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 L92<S«* 
 
 V.I
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF FIRST LOVE. 
 
 IX THREE VOLUME; 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 BULL AND CHURTON, HOLLES STREET. 
 
 1833.
 
 Digitized by the Internet Arcinive 
 
 in. 2009 witii funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/dilemmasofpride01dih
 
 ^^3 
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The immense extent and beautiful irregularity 
 of the grounds, tlie unfathomable depth of the 
 woods, the picturesque ramifications of some of 
 the most conspicuously situated of the very old 
 trees, the hour, for it was almost midnight, the 
 numerous bonfires scattered in all directions, 
 the innumerable tenantry gathered round them, 
 the crowd of moving forms extending as far as 
 the eye could penetrate into the darkness ; and, 
 quite in the fore-ground, the figure of a blind old 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 man who had been bom in the family, and grown 
 grey in its service, playing, with the most ex- 
 travagant demonstrations of delight, on a rude 
 harp, that instrument so surrounded with poetic 
 associations; seated too beneath a spreading 
 cedar, the trunk and undermost branches of 
 which, together with his countenance and white 
 hair, v/ere strongly illuminated by an adjacent 
 heap of blazing pine, — all gave to Arden Park 
 a demesne of such unlimited magnificence, that 
 it formed in itself a sort of sylvan empire, a 
 powerful resemblance, at the moment of which 
 we speak, to what our imaginatibns are prone to 
 figure of the feasts of Shells, as described by 
 that poet of ancient bards and burning oaks, the 
 venerable Ossian. 
 
 On an abrupt and rocky eminence, at some 
 distance, but still within the park, stood the 
 picturesque remains of Arden Castle, once the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. d 
 
 residence of the ancestors of the family. Its 
 round towers of different dimensions, some still 
 perfect, its perpendicular site, the trees and turn 
 of the river at its base, were all rendered con- 
 spicuous by the clear light of the moon now 
 about to set behind the ruins. 
 
 In all the ancient deeds the landed property 
 derived its designation from this castle, and it was 
 still customary for the heir to take formal pos- 
 session of the roofless walls, ere he was con- 
 sidered true Lord of the Manor; a ceremony 
 which had in the course of the day just passed, 
 been duly performed. 
 
 A little removed from the old castle, emerging 
 from the trees, appeared the square turret of 
 another ruin, called the Grey Friary, once the 
 residence of monks, to w hom at that time a por- 
 tion of the lands appertained, while along the 
 verge of the horizon, the spires of several churches 
 B 2
 
 4 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 were just visible, breaking the dark line formed 
 by seemingly interminable woods. 
 
 The modem house, a magnificent structure, 
 standing on a commanding eminence, the 
 approach to which was gradual in the midst of 
 a park and woodlands comprising above thirty 
 thousand acres, now poured from every door 
 and window streams of cheerful light. 
 
 Figures were discernible within, some moving 
 in the merry dance, others thronging to and from 
 halls dedicated to hospitable cheer. 
 
 We have already said it was near midnight : 
 the day had been spent in festivities, held to 
 celebrate the coming of age of Sir Willoughby 
 Arden, now (his father having been sometime 
 dead,) the head of the ancient family to whom 
 the property belonged. 
 
 The rejoicings, not only those going forward 
 beneath the sheltering roof of the mansion but
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. O 
 
 those also out of doors, were kept up thus late 
 in compliment to Alfred Arden, the twin brother 
 of the heir. The elder twin had been born about 
 nine in the evening, the younger not till after 
 twelve at night. To unite, therefore, the two 
 distinct birthdays in the one festival, and thus 
 preserve unsevered the more than brotherly tie, 
 it had been resolved that no guest, of whatever 
 denomination, should depart till the hour of 
 midnight had been ushered in with every possible 
 demonstration of joy. 
 
 The county-town, though not above a quarter 
 of a mile removed, was quite planted out : the 
 spires already noticed, and which were highly 
 ornamental to the landscape, being all pertaining 
 of city scenery, which w^as visible over the tops 
 of the trees. 
 
 The clocks of some of the churches now be^an 
 to strike. A spell at the instant seemed to fall
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 upon all : the music ceased, the voices of reveliy 
 were hushed, and that peculiar stillness prevailed 
 which seemed to indicate that eveiy individual in 
 the crowd was occupied in counting the solemn 
 chimes. The nearest and loudest bell took 
 the lead, and was quite distinct from the rest, 
 while the others followed, like answering echoes, 
 in the distance. A second after the number 
 twelve was completed, one universal shout rent 
 the air ! The health of Alfred Arden was drank 
 within the mansion, and arms, might be seen 
 waving above the heads of the guests : after 
 which, Sir Willoughby, leading his brother for- 
 ward, issued from the open door, and stood on 
 the centre of the steps. 
 
 Servants held up lighted flambeaux on either 
 side, and the old butler, with hair as white as 
 the harper's, presented a goblet of wine. Sir 
 Willoughby announced his brother with enthu-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. ¥ 
 
 siasm, and then drank to the health of Alfred Ar- 
 den. A simultaneous movement among the 
 groups around the bonfires indicated that they 
 were following his good example, and the next 
 moment three times three resounded from the 
 crowd. 
 
 In about an hour after this all was still, 
 save the solitary voice of a distant waterfall. 
 Every light was quenched, and dying embers, 
 which from time to time as they fell together 
 flashed for an instant, were all that remained of 
 the scattered bonfires. The merry crowd had 
 sought their respective homes, and the inhabit- 
 ants of the mansion had retired to rest, with 
 the exception of Lady Arden, who sat at an 
 open window, taking leave as it were cf familiar 
 scenes which, when the light of morning next 
 dawned upon them, would no longer be her 
 home.
 
 8 DILCMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 In manying the late Sir Alfred, the then 
 head of the family, in obedience to the wishes 
 of her parents, she had sacrificed an early attach- 
 ment to his youngest brother. 
 
 Sii Alfred had, however, proved a very polite 
 husband, and she had for years been the mis- 
 tress, nay, the very princess of a princely man- 
 sion, a splendid establishment, and a magnificent 
 demesne; she had possessed every luxuiy that art 
 and wealth could procure, and at the same time 
 had been surrounded by all the beauties of nature 
 on the most extensive scale. 
 
 All had now passed away ! It was to her 
 son, 'tis true, and he was dutiful and affectionate, 
 and would always, she had no doubt, make her 
 welcome, but of course as a visiter ; and when- 
 ever her son should marry (which she certainly 
 wished him to do), a stranger would be mistress 
 of all ; and to the courtesy of that stranger she
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 9 
 
 must owe peraiission to cross the threshold of 
 her long accustomed home. 
 
 She did not mean absolutely to murmur ; but 
 there was something pensive, at least, if not me- 
 lancholy in such thoughts. 
 
 While her son was a minor, Arden Park had 
 still been hers, at least the right of hving there ; 
 but to-morrow she was to set out for town ; she 
 was to take her daughters from under the shel- 
 ter of their father's roof, to become wanderers 
 as it were, on the world''6 wide wilderness. She 
 would have a house in town, 'tis true : a short 
 season of each year would be spent there, and 
 the remainder in temporary and probably agree- 
 able homes in the various watering-places. 
 But she felt a painful conciousness, that, of the 
 adventitious rank which the mere prejudices of 
 society bestow, herself and daughters would 
 now lose many steps ; and that the latter must, 
 b3
 
 10 BILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 whenever she should die, if they were not 
 married, lose many more; nay, be probably 
 reduced, at last, by the insufficiency of their 
 portions as younger children, to the state of poor 
 aunt Dorothea, whom she had herself often held 
 up to them as a warning of the miseries attend- 
 ant on remaining single. 
 
 Aunt Dorothea''s afflictions were not always 
 of the tragic order, and the remembrance of some 
 of them called up, at the moment, despite her 
 solemn reflections, a faint smile on the counte- 
 nance of Lady Arden ; followed, however, by a 
 sigh, for the subject now came home to her 
 feelings in a manner it had never done before. 
 
 So absorbing had been her reflections, that 
 she had not noticed the gathering clouds which 
 had gradually extinguished every star, and dar- 
 kened the heavens, till all on which she still 
 looked out had become one black and formless
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. H 
 
 mass. At the instant, a vivid flash of Hghtning 
 gave to her view, with the most minute distinct- 
 ness of outline, not only the grand features of 
 the landscape generally, but, prominent above 
 all, the ruins of the castle, the rocky eminence 
 on which they stood, the rivei- at its foot, and 
 the trees that surrounded its base. Thunder 
 and violent rain followed, and the wind rose to 
 a hurricane. There existed a superstitious be- 
 lief among the country people 'that a tremen- 
 dous tempest always preceded or accompanied 
 any event fatal to a member of the Arden family. 
 A remembrance of this crossed the mind of Lady 
 Arden at the moment, but was of course re- 
 jected as silly to a degree. Besides, she added 
 mentally, if an idea so absurd required refuta- 
 tion, the present occasion being one of rejoicing, 
 would be quite sufficient to satisfy any reason- 
 able mind. She retired to rest, however, with
 
 12 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 saddened feelings, while the castle, crowning its 
 rocky site, as already described, floated before her 
 eyes, even after their lids were closed ; and when 
 she slept, the vision still blended with her 
 dreams, as did the forms of the Baron and his 
 two sons, described in the legend of the 
 castle, and all strangely mixed up with the 
 festivities of the previous day, and the forms of 
 her own happy blooming family. 
 
 The legend alluded to, and which had given 
 rise to the superstition we have mentioned, ran 
 thus. 
 
 Some centuries ago, the Baron had two sons, 
 w^ho, when boys, had climbed, one day, during 
 a fearful thunder storm to the topmost turret of 
 the castle, which w^ls at the time enveloped in 
 clouds 
 
 When, however, the storm was over, their 
 bodies were found, locked in each other's arms.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 13 
 
 laying in the river at the foot of the rock on 
 which the castle stands. The old Baron died 
 of grief, and the property went to a distant re- 
 lative, who, it was vaguely hinted, had followed 
 the youths unseen, and while they stood gazing 
 at the storm, had treacherously drawn the coping- 
 stone from beneath their feet ; others maintained 
 the only grounds for this foul suspicion to be, 
 that the said stone was certainly foimd on the 
 inner side the parapet, while the bodies of the 
 youths lay below.
 
 14 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 When Lady Arden arose in the morning all 
 was calm and sunshine. 
 
 The storm of the night might have seemed a 
 dream but for the still visible traces of its 
 ravages. The river v^as greatly swollen, and se- 
 veral of the largest and finest of a range of 
 magnificent old trees which had grown on the 
 brow of a sloping bank, forming a beautiful 
 feature in the landscape, now lay on the ground, 
 literally uprooted by the violence of the tem- 
 pest. Their fate, however, was soon forgotten 
 in»that of two young oaks, which had been
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 15 
 
 planted beside each other on tlie lawn, on the 
 joint birth-day of her two sons. The lightning 
 had shattered both : Lady Arden viewed them 
 for the moment with a shuddering sensation 
 of superstitious dread, the influence of which it 
 required all her good sense to resist. 
 
 Geoffery Arden, the only nephew of the late Sir 
 Alfred, was standing on the grass, w ith his arms 
 folded, and looking rather askance than directly 
 at the remains of the blasted trees, while his 
 eyebrows were drawn up contemptuously, and 
 a somewhat scomfid smile curled his Up, as he 
 marked blind Lewin the Harper, his counte- 
 nance full of woe, feeling, with visibly trembling 
 hands, each shattered branch of the uprooted 
 oaks, while the large tears were falling from his 
 sightless eyes. 
 
 The brothers Willoughby and Alfred, and 
 their three sisters, all seemingly attracted by
 
 16 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 the same object, issued one by one, from the 
 open glass door of the breakfast room, and ga- 
 thered round the spot ; each looked playfully 
 dismal for a moment, and the next uttered 
 some laughing remark. They were soon joined 
 by their mother ; and the group would have 
 formed a striking family picture. Lady Arden 
 was still a vei*y fine woman : from her mild temper 
 the sweetness of her countenance was yet unim- 
 paired, while the expression of maternal ten- 
 derness, — and this from the late tenor of her 
 thoughts was unconsciously mingled with some- 
 thing of solicitude, — with which she viewed her 
 children, her sons now especially, and Alfred in 
 particular, her favourite son, gave additional 
 interest to her appearance. 
 
 Alfred's sparkling eye and blooming cheek 
 did not, however, seem to justify much anxiety 
 on his account ; his brother too, though he had
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 17 
 
 always been more delicate, seemed at present 
 in excellent health and sphits, while the three 
 sisters were young, handsome, and happy look- 
 ing. Geoffer}" Arden still stood apart, as though 
 there were but little fellowship of feeling be- 
 tween him and the rest of the group. 
 
 He w^as a lad of eighteen or nineteen 
 before the mamag^e of his uncle, the late Sir 
 Alfred ; and from a child had been in the 
 habit of hearing his father and mother, and 
 such of their particular friends as sought to 
 flatter their secret wishes, speculate on the pos- 
 sibility of his uncle's never manning, and his 
 being consequently heir to the Arden estates, 
 which were strictly entailed in the male line. 
 Nay, his veiy nursemaid's usual threat was, that 
 if he cried when his face was being washed, he 
 should never be Sir Geofftry. At school, all the 
 boys at play hours had somehow.or other ac-
 
 18 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 quired the habit of calling him Sir Geoffery ; and 
 at] college his companions, particularly those who 
 wished to flatter him into idle extravagance, 
 constantly joked and complimented him about 
 his great expectations. Thus had those expec- 
 tations, unjustly founded as they were, grown 
 with his growth and strengthened with his 
 strength ; till, when his uncle did marry, he 
 could scarcely help thinking himself an injured, 
 robbed, and very ill-treated person. Hope how- 
 ever revived a little, on the first three children 
 chancing to be daughters, and his mother be- 
 gan again to say, he might have the Arden es- 
 tates yet: — stranger things had happened. " And 
 you might marry one of the girls, you know, 
 Geoffery," she would continue, — " it would be, 
 some compensation to poor Sir Alfied for having 
 no son." 
 
 " Indeed I should do no such thing," he
 
 DILEMMAS OF PBIDE. 19 
 
 would reply. '^ I should just please myself. 
 It's not to oblige me, I suppose, that my uncle 
 has no son." 
 
 The birth of the twin brothers, immediately 
 after this, put an end to all further speculations 
 on the subject; except, indeed, that Mrs. Arden 
 could not help observing that, " after all, the 
 lives of two weakly infants, as twins of course 
 must be, with the measles, hooping-cough, and 
 all other infantile diseases before them, were 
 not worth much." 
 
 Geoffery became sulky under his disappoint- 
 ment, and said very little ; but silently he hated 
 the twins for having been born. Of what use 
 were they, he thought ; for what purpose had 
 they been brought into the world, except indeed 
 to ruin his prospects. 
 
 Had they never been bom, they w^ould not 
 have wanted the property, and he might have
 
 20 
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 enjoyed it. Now he must go and drudge at a 
 profession, the very idea of which, after his 
 imagination had been so long dazzled by false 
 hopes, he absolutely loathed. 
 
 He had been educated for the Bar, but had 
 neglected his studies. He had been dissipated 
 without gaiety of heart, and a gambler from 
 avarice. His hopes had made him proud, while 
 his fears had made him gloomy. In short, he 
 had contrived to extract the evil from every 
 thing, while he had avoided all that was good. 
 As to his legal studies, he had never read any 
 portion with interest or attention but the law of 
 male entail. 
 
 He was a batchelor, and likely to remain 
 such : for he could not afford to marry, unless 
 he obtained a much larger fortune than he was 
 entitled to expect. 
 
 There was nothing he could exactly dare to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 21 
 
 do to injure his cousins; but he hated them 
 both, and kept an evil eye upon them. As for 
 bis female cousins, he did not take the trouble 
 of actively hating them, he merely despised them 
 as beings shut out from all possibility of inhe- 
 riting the property. Beautiful and high bora as 
 they were, he would not have accepted the 
 hand of any one of them had it been offered to 
 him. 
 
 Sir Willoughby was goodnaturedly weak, and 
 very vain; — his was a vanity however which, 
 when it happened to be gratified, made him ex- 
 tremely happy, by keeping him in the highest 
 good humour with himself. From him Geoffery 
 won large sums at billiards, by flattering him on 
 liis play, 'till he induced him to give him, 
 habitually, such odds as amounted, in point of 
 fact, to giving him the game, or, in other words, 
 the sum staked upon it.
 
 22 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Lady Arden often endeavoured to dissuade 
 her son from acquiring so bad a habit as that 
 of gambhng, but in vain ; for Willoughby, Hke 
 all weak men, w^as obstinate to excess : he had 
 besides a marvellous respect for the salique law, 
 and that jealousy of being guided, which un- 
 happily always forms a leading feature in the 
 characters of those who stand most in need of 
 guidance. Yet he was fondly attached to his 
 mother ; his greatest delight was to devise some- 
 thing for her pleasure or her accommodation ; he 
 was always ready to make her munificent presents ; 
 in short, he would do any thing to oblige her, 
 with the exception of following her suggestions. 
 
 Not that he always ungraciously refused re- 
 quests that contained in them nothing prohibi- 
 tory 5 he had no particular objection sometimes to 
 do a thing he was asked to do ; but a thing 
 he was asked not to do, he was always sure to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 23 
 
 do! And if it happened to be a thing which 
 GeofFery Arden wished should be done, he could 
 always decide the point, by artfully compli- 
 menting his cousin on the firmness of his cha- 
 racter. 
 
 Of Alfred, GeofFery could make nothing. 
 He was frank, kind, and open-hearted ; yet 
 clear-seeing and decided. With him his mo- 
 ther's slightest wish but guessed at was a law : 
 his sisters, too, could always coax him out 
 of any plan of pleasure of his own, and get 
 him to go with them. Not so those for whom 
 he had no particular affection; he had never 
 yet been known, in any one instance, to sa- 
 crifice his opinion of what was right, respect- 
 able, or amiable, to the persuasions of idle 
 companions ; so that he was already respected 
 as well as regarded by thinking and discerning 
 men much older than himself; some of them
 
 24 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 too, men who had bought their experience dearly 
 enough and who were surprised into involun- 
 tary admiration of so young a person, who 
 seemed to have his intuitively. 
 
 His brother loved him in the most enthusias- 
 tic manner ; more than he did his mother, or 
 any one else in the world ; yet, strange to say, 
 such was Willoughby's dread of being governed, 
 that even the brother whom he loved so much, 
 had not the slightest influence over him ; nay, 
 Alfred was afraid to use persuasion of any 
 kind, lest it should have a contrary effect; and 
 yet, if he ever let it appear that he was in the 
 slightest degree hurt or offended by this un- 
 meaning and dogged obstinacy on the part of his 
 brother, Willoughby's despair would sometimes, 
 though but for a moment or two, manifest itself in 
 a way perfectly terrifying; he would rush towards 
 a window, or a river side, and threaten to fling
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 25 
 
 himself out or in ; so that Alfred, though he 
 knew himself to be his brother's sole confidant, 
 and the first object of his affections, was obliged, 
 with great pain of course, to see him led away 
 by designing people, especially his cousin Geof- 
 fery, into many practices far from prudent, yet 
 not interfere ; and even be thankful, when by 
 refraining from so doing, he could avoid the re- 
 currence of the distressing scenes alluded to. 
 Willoughby had received a blow on the head 
 when a child, which had not then exhibited any 
 serious consequences ; whether this circumstance 
 had any connection with the occasional strange- 
 ness of his temper or not, it was impossible to 
 say, but Alfred sometimes secretly feared it 
 had. It was a thought, however, which he did 
 not communicate even to his mother. Such was 
 the family, which on the morning we have de- 
 scribed, quitted Arden Park for London. 
 
 VOL. 1. C
 
 26 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 While the Arden family are on their way to 
 town, we shall take a peep at the High-street in 
 Cheltenham. Strings of carriages were driving 
 backward and forward, from turnpike to turn- 
 pike, while the open barouches, filled with bon- 
 nets of every colour in the rainbow, flaunting 
 and waving to and fro, looked like so many 
 moving beds of full blown tulips. Foot-pas- 
 sengers too of all classes thronged the flagways. 
 
 Among these was distinguishable a tall, large, 
 and still handsome woman, apparently upwards
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 27- 
 
 of fifty. There was something aristocratic about 
 both her countenance and carriage, although 
 she was closely followed by a trollopy looking 
 maid-servant, who carried a bandbox under each 
 arm, a dressing-box in one hand, and a work- 
 box in the other. 
 
 Mistress and maid entered the private door 
 or genteel separate ingress, appropriated to 
 lodgers, of a music-shop ; and having the door 
 at the further end of the passage opened, for the 
 purpose of throwing light on the subject, stum- 
 bled up a still dark and very narrow staircase, 
 at the top of which they turned abruptly into 
 a small sunny drawing-room, furnished with 
 chints hangings, lined and draperied with faded 
 pink calico. The carpet was a stamped cloth, 
 of 'a showy pattern. It was a recent purchase, 
 and therefore not yet faded ; so that it secured 
 c2
 
 28 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 to these lodgings, as being superiorly furnished, 
 a great preference over their competitors. In 
 the centre of the room stood a table covered 
 with a very dingy green baize, and round the 
 walls were ranged some half dozen small mock 
 rosewood chairs, accommodated with little square 
 inclined planes, covered with pink calico, and 
 called cushions. Either for want of strings a 
 the back, or in consequence of such strings 
 being out of repair, these said inclined planes, 
 whenever you attempted to help yourself or any 
 one else to a chair, flew off, either into the mid- 
 dle of the floor, or if it was the fire you had 
 wished to approach, perchance under the grate. 
 Over the mantelpiece was placed what the land- 
 lady considered a very handsome chimney-glass, 
 a foot and half high, and about three wide ; 
 its gilt frame carefully covered with transparent
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 29 
 
 yellow gauze. On the mantelpiece stood two 
 bronze chimney lights, with cutglass drops, 
 only it must be confessed there were but three 
 of the drops remaining on one, and the other 
 wanted two. The woman of the house, how- 
 ever, had promised faithfully to find the rest 
 of the drops, and so restore to these embel- 
 lishers of her establishment the whole of their 
 pendant honours. 
 
 '* I would'nt give much for their promises," 
 answered Sarah, the maid, when, in reply to 
 a comment of hers on the subject, she was told 
 so by Mrs. Dorothea Arden, her mistress. 
 
 " And here's no sofa, ma'am," she continued ; 
 *' how are you to be sitting, the length of an 
 evening, stuck upright on one of these here 
 ricketty bits of chairs, Fd be glad to know." 
 
 " Why, it will not be very comfortable, to be
 
 so DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 sure," answered Mrs. Dorothea, '' so long as it 
 lasts ; but she has promised faithfully, that as 
 soon as the sick lady goes away, which will be 
 in about a week, she will let me have the sofa 
 out of the next drawing-room." 
 
 '' A bird in the hand's worth two in the bush !" 
 replied Sarah. " I dare say if the truth was 
 known, they're not worth a sofaj or, if they are, 
 they'll keep it in the next room, when it is vacant, 
 to be a decoy-duck to another lodger. They're 
 not going to let you have it, I promise you, now 
 that they have got you fast for a month certain." 
 
 "Well, if they don't, I can't help it," said 
 Mrs. Dorothea; "one can't have every thing 
 you know; and the new cai-pet certainly gives 
 the room a very respectable appearance. And 
 then there is a chiffonier ; that's a great comfort 
 to put one's gTOceries in ; or a few biskets; or a
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 31 
 
 bottle of wine, if one should be obliged to open 
 one. The doors, to be sure, are lined with blue 
 and they should have been pink." 
 
 '* And here's no key," said Sarah, examining 
 the chiffonier j " and I declare if the lock ante 
 broke/' 
 
 " That is provoking," said Mrs. Dorothea, 
 " she must get me a lock." 
 
 Sarah was now dispatched with her band- 
 boxes, and ordered to hurry the dinner and un- 
 pack the things. 
 
 In about half an hour, Aunt Dorothea becom- 
 ing hungry and impatient, rang her belL Sarah 
 reappeared, with a comitenance of the utmost 
 discontent, declaiing she was never in such a 
 place in her life ; that there was no getting any 
 thing done, and that as to unpacking, there was 
 no use in attempting it, in a place where they
 
 32 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 should never be able to stop. When the dinner 
 was asked for, she replied, that she beheved it 
 had been done some time, but that she supposed 
 there was no one to bring it up, for all they 
 had engaged to do the waiting. " But there's 
 sixteen of themselves, shop boys and all ; and 
 they gets their own tea the while your dinner's 
 a cooking it seems.'' 
 
 When the dinner did come up, it was cold, and 
 consisted of mutton-chops, which had evidently 
 been upset into the ashes. Poor Aunt Doro- 
 thea consequently made but a slender repast. 
 
 The next day, while engaged in the labours 
 of the toilet, she thus addressed Sarah; for 
 people who hve quite alone, are too apt to get 
 into a way of gossiping with their servants. 
 
 " It's a very long time since the Salters 
 have called ; is it not, Sarah ?"
 
 DILEMMAS OF PEIDE. 33 
 
 " A very long time indeed ma'am," replied 
 the abigail, " they was a saying to their own 
 maid the other day (they don't know I suppose 
 as she is a friend of mine), for they\vas a saying, 
 as I said, that they didn't think as they should 
 call any more ; for that nobody never knew 
 where to find you, as you was always a chang- 
 ing your lodgings ; and that as to your ha\dng 
 a sister that was a lady, they didn't believe a 
 word of it; for though you was always a talk- 
 ing of Lady Arden coming, she never come." 
 
 " What impertinence ! Well, Lady Arden 
 will be here this season to a certainty. She is 
 to come direct from London ; and I'll take care 
 they shall not be introduced to her. Was there 
 ever such ingratitude ! People that had not a 
 creature to speak to, till I introduced them to 
 every one they know. I even made so particu- 
 c3
 
 34 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 lar a request of my friends that they would call 
 on them, that I quite laid myself under obliga- 
 tions to people. They could find out my lodg- 
 ings fast enough, when they w^ere coining to my 
 little sociable parties five nights out of the 
 seven ; declaring they did not know wha 
 was to become of them, were it not for my 
 kindness; and that the more they saw how 
 differently others behaved to them, the more 
 were they obliged to me ; and then making such 
 a vulgar noise about the number of invitations 
 they were in my debt and their grief at not 
 having it in their power as yet to make any re- 
 turn." 
 
 " Then I can tell you ma'am," said Sarah, 
 '' they are to have a grand party this very night 
 
 at the rooms, and never had the manners to ask 
 you."
 
 DILEMMAS OF PEIDE. 35 
 
 " I know their cards have been out for some 
 time. And who are they to have, did you 
 hear?" 
 
 ^* Oh, titles without end, they say ; and ge- 
 nerals and baronets, and all sorts of fine people. 
 Mrs. Johnson sais, as the young ladies should 
 say, they were determined as their party should 
 exist extirely of excuses." 
 
 " Exclusives you mean, I suppose ; but did 
 you hear any of the names V 
 
 ** Why yes ma'am ; they are to have Sir 
 Matthias and Lady Whale worthy." 
 
 "Sir Matthias indeed !" repeated Mrs. Doro- 
 thea, "an alderaian cheesemonger, knighted 
 only the other day ; and as for his poor good- 
 natured, vulgar wife, she has been fattened on 
 whey, I suppose, till no reasonable door can 
 admit her."
 
 36 DILEMMAS OF PKIDE. 
 
 ''Well to be sure!" exclaimed the abigail, 
 " and then they are to have Sir Henry and Lady 
 Shawbridge." 
 
 " Sir Henry, poor man/' said Mrs. Dorothea, 
 " was only knighted by mistake. I don't know 
 what he was himself, but they say he had just 
 married his cook-maid; and her ladyship cer- 
 tainly has all the fiery-faced fierceness of that 
 order about her." 
 
 " A cook-maid, ma'am ! why I am a step 
 above that myself. And let me see, who else — 
 oh, there's to be Lady Flamborough." 
 
 " She is a woman of rank certainly, or rather 
 the widow of a man of rank ; for she is of very 
 low birth herself; and what is much worse, she 
 is a woman of bad character, which of course 
 prevents her being visited, so that she is glad to 
 go any where. And who else pray ?"
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 37 
 
 "Sir William Orm, that Mrs. Jolmson sais 
 is such a fine gentleman.*" 
 
 "Sir William Orm," repeated Mrs. Dorothea, 
 "he is a known black-leg ; a man shut out from 
 all good society; he may do very well for the 
 Salters, however, if he can endure their vul- 
 garity." 
 
 "There is another title," said Sarah, " let me 
 see— Sir — Sir — Sir Francis Beerton, or Brierton, 
 I think." 
 
 " Poor little man," said Mrs. Dorothea, " there 
 is no particular harm in him ; but his \vife is so 
 sanctified, that she will neither go any where, 
 nor see any one at home ; so that he is glad of 
 any thing for variety. Strange notions some 
 people have of duty ! in my opinion, if a woman 
 will not make a man's home comfortable and 
 agreeable to him, she becomes accountable for
 
 38 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 all the sins he may commit abroad, although she 
 should be praying for his conversion the whole 
 time. Well, who comes next on your list ?" 
 
 " I don't think as I remember any more, ex- 
 cepting General Powel." 
 
 " He, poor old man, is mere lumber ; neither 
 useful nor ornamental, nobody will be troubled 
 with him who can get anybody else to fill up 
 their rooms ; so that I should suppose he is not 
 incumbered with many invitations." 
 
 " Well who would a thought of their being 
 such a despisable set; and so many titles 
 among them too; why to have heard Mrs. 
 Johnson talk o' them, you'd supposed they had 
 been so many kings and queens." 
 
 '* It was a set I should not have joined cer- 
 tainly ; but quite good enough for the Salters, 
 whom I should never have visited, had the friend
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 39 
 
 who wrote to me about them been sufficiently 
 
 exphcit as to who and what they were. The 
 daughters, I suppose, would be excessively in- 
 dignant if they thought it was known that their 
 father had made his fortune somewhere in De- 
 vonshire, by a contract for supplying the navy 
 with beef." 
 
 *' Supplying beef, ma'am ! Why isn't that all 
 as one as being a butcher ?" 
 *'Not unlike it, certainly,'' replied Mrs. Dorothea, 
 "Well, who would have thought, and they 
 so proud: but it's always them there up- 
 startish sort that's the impudentst and most 
 unbearable." 
 
 '^ It is in general the way those sort of people 
 betray themselves. If they behaved in a modest 
 unpretending manner, very possible no questions 
 might be asked. After their ingratitude and
 
 40 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 impertinence to me, I for one shall make no 
 secret of the circumstance. And the very young 
 men that eat Mr. Salter's roast beef now, washed 
 down too with his champaign and his claret, will 
 not be the less ready to jeer at the time he sold 
 the same commodity raw. When my sister, 
 Lady Arden, comes, and her three beautiful 
 daughters, they will of course have all the 
 young men in Cheltenham about them ; so that 
 I shall be acquainted with them all ; and I shall 
 take care they shall not be in the dark about 
 the Misses Salter, who shall find that I am not 
 to be insulted with impunity." 
 
 " And I shall have some fun with our butcher 
 about it," said Sarah ; " I shall tell liim to be 
 particular what sort of meat he sends to such 
 a good judge as Mr. Salter. Perhaps you could 
 spare me for a couple of hours this evening,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 41 
 
 ma'am?*' she added, when her mistress was 
 attired. 
 
 "What for, Sarah? you are always asking 
 leave to go out. I must say you are very idly 
 inclined. How are my summer things ever to 
 be ready at this rate. This mulberry silk has 
 been looking quite out of season, ever since the 
 sunny weather came in." 
 
 " I am sure, ma'am, there is not a young 
 person in Cheltenham sits as close to their 
 needle as what I do ; but this evening Mrs. 
 Johnson has, of course, the privilege of the 
 music-gallery, and she has offered me a place. 
 I thought you might like, perhaps, to hear how 
 the party went off?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly I should !" replied Mrs. Do- 
 rothea. " Well, Sarah, you may go, and mind 
 you have all your eyes about you, and bring
 
 42 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 me a full account of every thing. And notice 
 if there is any body there that I know — and 
 how the people are dressed — and how often the 
 refreshment trays come in — and whether they 
 attempt a supper — and who begins the dancing. 
 The Miss S alters will get partners for once in 
 their lives, I suppose ! And I dare say they will 
 contrive to have a tolerably full room ; for I 
 hear they have been getting all their acquaint- 
 ance to give away cards, right and left ; Lady 
 Matthias alone boasts that she has disposed of 
 three dozen." 
 
 ^ Sarah promised strict compliance with all the 
 directions she had received, and disappeared in 
 great haste, to pin new bows in her bonnet, and 
 slip stiffeners into the large sleeves of her best 
 silk dress; determining to complete her cos- 
 tume for the occasion, by lending herself her
 
 DILEMMAS OF PKIDE. 43 
 
 mistress's pea-green china crape shawl and 
 black lace veil/' 
 
 Mrs. Dorothea Arden, as soon as she w^as 
 alone^ sighed unconsciously; for visions of her 
 early days presented themselves suddenly and 
 imbidden, forming a \-iolent contrast with the 
 whole class of petty and degrading thoughts and 
 interests, to which circumstances had gradually 
 habituated, at least, if not reconciled her. 
 
 Ere she had quitted the pedestal of her youth- 
 ful pride, beneath the shelter of her father's 
 roof, with what appalling horror would she have 
 thought of the chance-collected mob, about 
 whose movements she was now capable of feel- 
 ing an idle curiosity. 
 
 Vague recollections, too, passed with the 
 quickness of a momentary glance, through her 
 mind, of eligible establishments rejected with
 
 44 -DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 scorn, of comfort and respectability cast away, 
 for dreams of ambition it had never been her 
 fate to realize. 
 
 She paused, and some seconds were given to 
 a remembrance apart from every other, which, 
 though now but faintly seen amid the haze of 
 distance, still seemed a little illumined speck, 
 on which a sunbeam, piercing some aperture in 
 a cloudy sky had chanced to fall. 
 
 But it was too late, quite too late for such 
 thoughts, so she went out to pay some morning 
 visits, to send in a veal cutlet for her dinner, 
 and find out, more particularly, who were to be 
 at the Salter's party.
 
 45 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Mr. Salter and his two daughters, the for- 
 mer equipped in a new wig, the latter in two new 
 dresses, expressly for the occasion, were parading 
 up and down the yet vacant public ball-room. 
 
 The lights were burning, the waiters in at- 
 tendance, and the orchestra playing; while, 
 peeping over the shoulder of the double bass, 
 appeared a particularly smart bonnet, deco- 
 rated with numerous bows of quite new rib- 
 bon, and further graced by a very handsome 
 black lace veil.
 
 46 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 "What can all the people be thinking of?*' 
 said Mr. Salter at last ; " I have a mind to order 
 the lights to be put out, and go away home to 
 my bed. It would be just a proper punishment 
 for them all. And pray," he added, looking 
 at his daughters' dresses, " what are these gig- 
 meries to cost ?" At this crisis resounded the 
 welcome sounds, *' Sir Matthias and Lady 
 Whaleworthy:" with quickened steps and de- 
 lighted countenances, our trio hastened towards 
 the bottom of the room, to receive their guests, 
 now, as by magic, flowing in altogether. 
 
 Introductions were endless; every leading 
 bird was followed by a flock, which neither host 
 nor hostess had ever seen before ; while, from 
 time to time, the promised titles, those stars 
 which were to give brilliancy to the night, made 
 their appearance, sprinkling the common herd
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. ^ 
 
 with consequence. Lady Flamborough ! Sir 
 William Orai ! Sir Henry and Lady Shaw- 
 bridge ! Xext appeared poor old General Powel 
 and half blind Sir Francis Brierton, poking his 
 little sharp nose into everybody's face, and 
 smirking his recognition, when by so doing: he 
 had discovered who they were ; and though last 
 not least, Sir James Lindsey; least in conse- 
 quence we mean, for he was a very little, very 
 ugly man, the express image of the knave of 
 spades. He was, however, a vastly important 
 personage, a bachelor baronet, with fifteen thou- 
 sand a year, and a man of good family too, so 
 that there was no objection whatever to him, 
 except that he was a fool, and that when he 
 danced he so capered and kicked up behind, 
 and rounded his elbows, and, in short, made 
 himself so completely the butt and laughing-
 
 48 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 stock of the whole room, it was with difficiilty 
 that even his fifteen thousand per annum could 
 procure him a partner. 
 
 We rather suspect, however, that there were 
 ladies who, though they shrank from sharing 
 with Sir James the unprofitable ridicule of the 
 hour, would have had no objection to share 
 with him for life his fifteen thousand a-year, 
 for, in that case, they could afford to be laughed 
 at. 
 
 Sir James had a brother, a very fine young 
 man, remarkably handsome and equally cle- 
 ver; perhaps a little too hot-headed, but 
 warm-hearted withal ; an enthusiast in beauty, 
 painting, music, scenery, every thing in short 
 at which a glowing imagination takes fire ; 
 the very material for a frantic lover, yet con- 
 demned by his circumstances, either to lead
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 49 
 
 a single life, or possibly at least contract a mar- 
 riage with the purse of some old rich widow, 
 fitter to be his mother than his wife. For 
 Henry Lindsey was one of the many living sa- 
 crifices hourly immolated on the altars of pride, 
 and how many a holocaust has been offered up 
 upon those altars ! 
 
 How often have we heard persons, who could 
 argue rationally enough on other subjects, gravely 
 assert, in reply to every argument which good 
 feeling or justice could urge, " A family must 
 have a head." 
 
 In this particular instance the head, or j) ride 
 of the family, had proved its disgrace, yet stand- 
 ing laws and previously made settlements could 
 not be altered. Fifteen thousand per annum, 
 therefore, must be melted down, to make a 
 golden image of poor little silly Sir James, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 W DILEMMAS OF PItlDE. 
 
 while Henry, with the pittance which as a 
 younger child was his portion, was obliged to 
 purchase the privilege of being shot at ; for the 
 younger brother of an old baronet could not dis- 
 grace his family by doing any thing likely to 
 provide comfortably for himself 
 
 Thus do the prejudices of society seem to have 
 been invented for the express purpose of hunting 
 down and crushing those whom its laws have 
 robbed and oppressed. 
 
 Children of the same parents must be de- 
 frauded of the birthright, by natural justice 
 theirs, to heap all on one brother ! And for 
 what purpose? That he may keep alive, by 
 being its living representative, that pride, that 
 curse, which forbids to those so defrauded, the 
 use of honest means for earning honest bread ! 
 
 If, instead of this, all property which had
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 51 
 
 been a father's, were, at his death, equally di- 
 yided among his offspring, without revolution or 
 confiscation, extravagant disparity of station 
 would gradually disappear, and with it pride, 
 that destroys the happiness, with its whole array 
 of prejudices, waging eternal warfare against 
 rational contentment. 
 
 How many are there who might still, even as 
 the world now is, dwell within a very garden of 
 Eden, of peaceful and natural delights, and yet 
 who virtually turn themselves out of the same ; 
 and, at the mere mandate of some prejudice of so- 
 ciety — some hy-law of pride, become wanderers 
 through the thistle-grown wildernesses of dis- 
 content, or weary pilgiims amid the thorny 
 paths of petty mortification. 
 
 But to return to our ball : by this time so 
 fair a proportion of the company had arrived, 
 d2 
 
 .^TV Of \tLV»^^
 
 52 BILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 that it was thought advisable to commence 
 dancing. For this purpose Mr. Salter, with 
 a feeling of exultation which made him forget, 
 for the time, w^hat the whole entertainment was 
 likely to cost, led Lady Flamborough to the 
 head of the room. Her ladyship had evidently 
 been pretty in her youth; but though the re- 
 mains of a fine woman may sometimes be 
 viewed with a blending of admiration with our 
 veneration, mere prettiness seldom grows old 
 gTacefuUy. In Lady Flamborough's case it cer- 
 tainly did not. Her once nicely rounded little fi- 
 gure had now outgrown all bounds, not excepting 
 those of the drapery which ought to have con- 
 cealed its exuberance. Her once infantine fea- 
 tures were now nearly lost in the midst of a 
 countenance disproportionally increased in its 
 general dimensions ; while in manner she still
 
 DILEMMAS OF PEIDE. 53 
 
 played off numberless once becoming, but now 
 disgusting, airs of artless innocence ; languish- 
 ing, lisping, and rolling her eyes ; and childishly 
 twisting her fingers through the linglets of her 
 hair, while looking up in her partner's face, and 
 saying silly things. 
 
 Had it been possible to have checked coquetiy 
 in Lady Flamborough, the sight of the senseless 
 bloated countenance on which she was thus 
 casting away those interesting appeals of her 
 visual orbs, one would have thought might have 
 done so. 
 
 Mr. Salter's head was in shape something 
 like a sugar loaf: the region denominated fore- 
 head, and appropriated by phrenologists to the 
 intellectual faculties, being so confined, that it 
 nearly came to a point, while the descent 
 widened as it approached the organs of gusta-
 
 54 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 tiveness, and all that called itself face, concluded 
 without any distinct hne of demarcation, in a 
 jole, much resembling that of a cod-fish. 
 
 The eyes were colourless, and owed all the 
 brilliancy they possessed to an inflammation of 
 the lids, which never forsook them. The eflforts 
 of their owner, on the present occasion, to give 
 them a languishing roll, that should correspond 
 with that of her ladyship's, was truly ludicrous. 
 As to his mouth, it bisected his counte- 
 nance from ear to ear, which rendered his 
 endeavours to spread it wider by that bland 
 movement designated a smile, nearly abortive. 
 
 A few additional lines of circular or spherical 
 trigonometry were conspicuously marked upon 
 cheeks that yielded in carnation hue to nought 
 save the nose ; while this rallying point of the 
 vital powers, like certain well-known altars of
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 55 
 
 the ancients, never allowed the flame to go 
 out. 
 
 Mr. Salter was exceedingly proud of his legs, 
 (not that he had seen them himself for the last 
 ten years), and though short for his body, which 
 by-the-by had precisely the appearance of a 
 Brobdignag melon on castors, the legs them- 
 selves, when you were distant enough to have a 
 view of them beneath the inflated balloon that 
 otherwise concealed them, were certainly 
 formed according to the rules of beauty ; that is 
 to say, they had very large calves, and very small 
 ankles. 
 
 We suppose it must have been the combined 
 efiect of the personal charms and the elevated 
 rank of his partner, which raised jNIr. Salter's 
 spirits to £0 inconvenient a degree, as to produce 
 in his mind a most frisky longing to behold.
 
 56 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 once more, this long remembered attraction of 
 his own — his said handsome legs. Accordingly, 
 while setting to the lady, he made several kicks 
 out in front, with accompanying jerks forward 
 of the head, in the vain hope of catching a 
 glimpse ; but, alas, in one unfortunate effort 
 more strenuous than the rest, he lost his balance ; 
 out flew his feet, and down he came on his back, 
 so much to the amusement of the whole room 
 that no one for a time had the presence of mind 
 to pick him up : while there he lay, sprawling 
 and puffing, his own endeavours to rise being 
 quite as fruitless as those of a beetle usually are, 
 when placed in the same reversed position by 
 a mischievous school-boy. Neither was the 
 evening by any means one of unmixed delight 
 to the Misses Salter. It was but too evident 
 that even on the present occasion, when, if ever
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 57 
 
 compliment was due to them, that the gentlemen 
 evinced any thing but impatience to secure the 
 felicity of being their partners. On the con- 
 trary, it was generally when a quadrille was 
 nearly made up, and the last added couple 
 were in great distress for a vis-d-vis, that some 
 one who had previously made up his mind not to 
 dance, was pressed into the service, and given a 
 hint that one of the Miss Salters was sitting down. 
 
 Even Sir James, though he did dance a set 
 with each sister, did not do so till he had been 
 shaken off by nearly every other woman in the 
 room. 
 
 The Scotch proverb says, '' It's a lucky lass 
 that's like her father,'^ 
 
 But we must confess, we never could discover 
 that it was any advantage to Miss Salter to be 
 so strikingly like her father as she certainly was. 
 D 3
 
 5B DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Miss Grace Salter was altogether of a dif- 
 ferent style ; she was under-sized, pitiably thin, 
 and extremely dark, with an expression of coun- 
 tenance as if she had just swallowed something 
 unseasonably bitter, and was making a face at 
 its disagreeable flavour. The set with Sir James 
 could not much sooth the vanity of either sister, 
 for no sooner did he commence operations, 
 then a ring was immediately formed for the 
 avowed purpose of laughing at him ; while he, 
 mistaking the general attention he drew for 
 admiration, seemed gratefully determined to 
 spare no pains to give the greatest possible sa- 
 tisfaction to his numerous spectators. 
 
 The Misses Salter had also another source 
 of uneasiness this evening. At all times their 
 greatest earthly apprehension, next to that of 
 not getting husbands themselves, was, lest their
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 59 
 
 father should marry, and cut them out of a 
 small sum, which not having been swallowed 
 up in the purchase of the estate for John, 
 he had promised to divide between them unless 
 indeed he married again. His doing so seemed 
 this evening more probable than ever it had 
 done before. The roll of his eye, while looking 
 at Lady Flamborough, had become quite omi- 
 nous, while her ladyship's air of condescension 
 was truly alarming. 
 
 ''Now it would be too bad, would it not?" 
 said Miss Salter to Miss Grace Salter, as they 
 were undressing, " if after all, tliis ball that we 
 have been so long teazing at my father to give, 
 and that he thinks so much about the expense of, 
 should turn out to be our own min in the end." 
 
 " Why, I am afraid, to be sure," replied her 
 sister, **if he marries he won't leave us the
 
 60 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 money, or else it would be a giand connection ! 
 would 'nt it ? We'd be sure to be visited by every 
 body then.'' 
 
 " That we should, no doubt, " said Miss 
 Salter, " but what of that, we should'nt have 
 a shilling in the world, comparatively speaking, 
 when my father dies — and as for Jolm — " 
 
 " He would'nt give us a shilling if we were 
 staining !" observed Miss Grace. 
 
 By John, they meant their brother. And, by- 
 the-by, one of the reasons, in addition to their 
 want of beauty, why these ladies were paid so 
 little attention to by the gentlemen, was, that it 
 was well known, Mr. Salter had a cub of a 
 son, on whom he meant, in imitation of his 
 betters, to heap the earnings and savings of his 
 life, for the purpose, as he himself expressed it, 
 of making a family : and, for that matter he
 
 DILEMMAS or PRIDE. 61 
 
 didn't see why a man might'nt be prouder of 
 being the first of his name to do so, than if he 
 was come of a famUy ready made to his hand 
 a thousand years ago ! for sure, they must all 
 have had a beginning one time or other. 
 
 But as to being the fii-st of his name to have 
 a rise in the world, he was not so clear of that 
 neither : he had often heard talk of a Lord Salter 
 or Salisbur}', or something begnnning with an S ; 
 and he might become a lord, one time or 
 other, for any thing he knew to the 
 contrary. 
 
 But be that as it mav, " he was'nt ooiiio- 
 to have his money, that he had been a lifetime 
 scraping together, squandered by idle fellows 
 that were nothing at all akin to him, but would 
 just come and marry his daughters to get hold 
 of the cash."
 
 62 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " But supposing, Sir, we should'^nt get mar- 
 ried at all," said Miss Salter one day. 
 
 "Nothing more likely,'' replied her father. 
 **^ As for Grace, she is certainly as plain a girl 
 as Fd desire to see any day. And I don't know 
 how it is, you're not very handsome neither, tho' 
 you're thought so like me." 
 
 These observations of Mr. Salter's about 
 being the first of his family were, by the par- 
 ticular desire of his daughters, strictly confined 
 to his own fireside. There was no occasion, 
 they argued, to make any such confession in a 
 place like Cheltenham, where nobody knew any- 
 thing about people, but what they choose to 
 say of themselves. Accordingly, they made 
 family their constant theme ; and inquired with 
 the most consequential airs about the con- 
 nections of every one they heard named ; always
 
 BILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 63 
 
 winding up their harangue by observing, that 
 of course it was very natural for a man like their 
 father, of such an ancient and highly respectable 
 family, to be very particular about who they 
 visited, particularly in those sorts of places 
 where people of every description congregated. 
 
 " It's no harm, you know," said Miss Salter 
 to her sister, " to have the name of being par- 
 ticular, it makes people of consequence ; at 
 the same time I'd have us get acquainted 
 with every creature we can, and go every- 
 where; there's no knowing where one might 
 find one's luck." 
 
 " Talking of luck," answered Grace, " I read 
 in one of the new novels the other day, that 
 * luck knocks once at every one's door ;' I wish 
 it would knock once at mine, I know, and it 
 shouldn't have to knock again,"
 
 64 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " And, by-the-by, was it quite prudent of us, 
 on your plan, to cut Mrs. Dorothea Arden as we 
 have done ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; what's the use of an old maid, 
 she can have no sons, you know ; besides, we 
 did'nt cut her till Lady Whaleworthy, and 
 Lady Flamborough, and Lady Shaw-bridge, 
 and all of them, had called ; and then I thought 
 we could spare such old lumber as Mrs. Doro- 
 thea." 
 
 " Why, to be sure, as you say, she can have 
 no sons ; indeed I never even heard her speak 
 of a brother or a nephew ; and as to her ex- 
 pecting this Lady Arden that she is always 
 talking about, I am sure its nothing but a 
 boast." 
 
 " Nothing more you may be certain ! And 
 then I was afraid my father would haVe taken
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 63 
 
 2L fancy to her at last, for he was always saying, 
 she was a fine woman for her years." 
 
 " She was very useful however at first," said 
 Grace. 
 
 " Oh yes she was, certainly," replied Miss 
 Salter, " but now you know we don't want her."
 
 66 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Lady Arden, leaning on her son Alfred, her 
 eldest daughter on the other side, her two 
 younger following, had just entered the ball- 
 room at Almacks. 
 
 The sisters, we have already said, were beau- 
 tiful. They were all above the middle height, 
 and finely formed; remarkably fair, with bril- 
 liant complexions, and very beautiful light 
 brown hair. 
 
 Jane, the eldest, had her mother"'s amiable,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 67 
 
 mild, regular features, and soft, modest, hazel 
 eyes, 
 
 Louisa, the second, much resembled her sis- 
 ter in the form of her features, except that her 
 mouth was a very little larger, the lips fuller, 
 and of a more vivid red, and the smile more 
 conscious. Her eyes were of a gray colour, 
 clear and sparkling; but in their expression 
 there was too much of triumph, while her very- 
 blush had something in it of the same character ; 
 you felt, you knew not why, that it did not arise 
 altogether from timidity. 
 
 Her beauty, however, was perfectly exquisite ; 
 there was a rich luxuriance, a beaming lustre 
 about her whole appearance, which seemed to 
 gain by contrast with others, whom, while viewed 
 separately, you had thought as handsome. It 
 was like the undefinable distinction between the
 
 68 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 brilliant and its best imitation;?, most clearly 
 seen when subjected to the ordeal of comparison. 
 
 Madeline, the youngest, had a rounder face 
 than her sisters, the features not quite so fine, 
 yet lovely in their own perfectly innocent joy- 
 ousness ; while beautifying dimples accompa- 
 nied her smiles, and fairy cupids danced in her 
 laughing eyes. 
 
 The sisters always dressed alike : on the pre- 
 sent occasion, they all wore white lace over 
 white satin ; the lighter or outer drapery looped 
 up on one side with a bunch of white roses, 
 mixed with lilies of the valley : and a few of the 
 same flowers in the hair on the contrary side. 
 A set of diamonds each, unusually costly for 
 girls, but which, by a whim of their maternal 
 grandfather, they happened to possess, were their 
 only ornaments.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 69 
 
 Lady Arden had never, since her widowhood, 
 returned to colours ; her invariable costume was 
 black velvet; her diamonds, however, yielded 
 in magnificence to those of royalty only. So 
 that, what with the faces being quite new, and 
 the appearance of the group altogether, not for- 
 getting the handsome Alfred, was such as to ex- 
 cite considerable attention, even amid an assem- 
 bly like the present, where youth, beauty, 
 fashion, and splendour, habitually congregate. 
 ^ Willoughby was too important a personage 
 to. form one of the family picture. He was in 
 the room, however, having just arrived in attend- 
 ance on a party with whom he had dined. 
 
 A young lady of remarkable beauty was lean- 
 ing on his arm. He addressed her from time 
 to time w^ith great animation; while she appeared 
 to listen with the most languid indifference.
 
 70 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Young Lord Nelthorpe, one of their nearest 
 neighbours at Arden, now approached our party. 
 Jane had noticed him for some time, and, on 
 first doing so, had coloured deeply. They had 
 not met before since their arrival in town. He 
 came up to our party, was very polite, and even 
 friendly, but not quite as cordial as might have 
 been expected. He conversed with Lady Arden 
 for a little time. Music commenced, he made 
 a slight bow, and moving quickly towards a 
 lady at a little distance, led her to the 
 quadrille. Jane had been so perfectly certain 
 that he intended to dance with her, that when 
 the music began, she had instinctively drawn 
 her arm half way from within her mother's. 
 Her disappointment was bitter, and arose from 
 a feeling much deeper than the mere loss of a 
 partner for the dance could have excited.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 71 
 
 From her earliest childhood she had been in 
 the habit of hearing her own. family speak of 
 Lord Kelthorpe as a very suitable match. 
 As children together, they had been quite 
 little lovers. Pubhc schools and colleges 
 had broken off this famiUarity of intercourse. 
 He had, however, since arriving at the age of 
 manhood, often paid her a good deal of attention 
 in the country, where he had nothing else to do .j 
 and in some of the summer evening walks of the 
 young people, a declaration had more than once 
 seemed to tremble on his lips ; still nothing de- 
 cided had passed ; and poor Jane's heart had 
 been given away, some couple of years before she 
 had begun to doubt the sincerity of his attach- 
 ment, or the certainty of their future union. 
 And why was Jane mistaken? Because, society 
 being artificially constituted, the language of
 
 72 DILEMMAS GF PRIDE. 
 
 nature cannot explain the motives which govern 
 its members ; nor our own feelings, till we too 
 become sophisticated, teach us to calculate upon 
 those of others. 
 
 The attention of Alfred was just at this mo- 
 ment attracted by the appearance of the younger 
 of two ladies, who were standing at a little dis- 
 tance. They were evidently, from their striking 
 resemblance, mother and daughter. The sta- 
 ture of both was rather above the middle height ; 
 that of the elder, from its queen-like carriage, 
 and its being a little disposed to embonpoint, 
 had a strikingly imposing and majestic effect ; 
 while that of the younger, though perfectly 
 formed and beautifully rounded, w^as so delicate 
 in its proportions, and so timid in its air, 
 as to require comparison to convince the eye 
 that the actual elevation was the same. The
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 73 
 
 features of both were so regular, that it would 
 be impossible for the scrutiny of the nicest artist, 
 to discover a defect ; but those of the elder were 
 of a lustrous, conspicuous white, as though 
 chiseled in Parian marble ; those of the younger 
 of a stainless transparency, as if modelled in the 
 purest wax; the lips only of both were of a 
 lively red ; those of the elder, perhaps, a little 
 too thin, but boasting the glossy scarlet of the 
 coral ; while those of the younger, full and be- 
 witching in their expression, were of the tender 
 tint of the rose's ambrosial centre. The hair, 
 eye-brows, and eye-lashes of both were absolute 
 jet; but while the firm braiding of the elder 
 lady's tresses betrayed the usual defect of black 
 hair — strength of texture — the raven ringlets of 
 the younger rivalled the flaxen locks of child- 
 hood in their silken softness. The line of her 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 74 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 eye-brow, too, was the most delicately penciled, 
 and her eye-lashes the longest, or they seemed 
 so, her eyes being cast down; while those of 
 the elder lady were raised and fully visible. 
 They were dark, large, and briUiant; but the 
 supercilious vanity with which they moved 
 slowly round, courting the universal admiration 
 they drew towards them, without once shrinking 
 from its glare, made it impossible for their 
 lustre, splendid as it was, to reach any heart. 
 
 Alfred observed an elderly gentleman with 
 whom he was acquainted join the two ladies, 
 and converse for a time with the air of an old 
 intimate of the elder. As soon as he quitted 
 them Alfred joined him ; and with as much cir- 
 cumlocution, preparation, and management, as 
 thouo;h he had in view nothinof less than the 
 place of prime minister, demanded if he could
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 75 
 
 venture to introduce him to his fair friends, as a 
 candidate for the hand of the younger lady for the 
 next quadrille. Nothing could be easier : Lord 
 Darlingford was intimate with the parties; 
 accordingly, he presented our hero to Lady 
 Palliser and her daughter. Lady Caroline Mon- 
 tague. 
 
 The eyes of the latter were, at the moment of 
 introduction, of necessity lifted to Alfred's face. 
 In colour, size, and liquid lustre they resembled 
 her mother's ; but oh, how unlike were they in 
 their mild, beseeching expression; and in the 
 tremulous movement of the lids ; which, as if 
 weighed down by their sable veil of silken lashes, 
 hastened again to overshadow them. The trans- 
 parent cheek too, at the same instant that the 
 eyes were raised, had been visited by a deep 
 blush ; gifting, though but for a fleeting instant, 
 b2
 
 76 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 this beautiful, this almost too unearthly being 
 with the warm glow of life. 
 
 The effect on Alfred of the momentary vision 
 was decisive of his fate. 
 
 During the dance, to which this introduction 
 led, the snatches of most exquisite pleasure ex- 
 perienced by our hero were when, by directly 
 addressing his partner, he could again induce 
 her to look up. On each such occasion, the 
 beseeching expression already described, ex 
 cited, despite the cooler suggestions of reason, a 
 feeling as though the gentle appeal were ad- 
 dressed to him in particular. What was there 
 so entreated that he would not have undertaken ? 
 The most difficult feats of ancient chivalry, nay, 
 the impossibilities of necromancy itself, would 
 have seemed tasks of easy performance in such 
 a cause ! His beautiful partner said very little ;
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 77 
 
 yet, from her general demeanour, and the flut- 
 tering frequency with which her changing colour 
 came and went, it might be inferred that her 
 reserve was neither that of haughtiness, nor of cold 
 calculation, but rather an excess of almost painful 
 timidity. Thi s reserve, however, did not affect her 
 performance of the quadrille, which was perfect ; 
 it was the harmony of motion realized. The 
 absolute accordance was such that it seemed to 
 be the influence of the musical sounds on the 
 undulating air, which wafted the light form, 
 " hke the thistle-down floating on the breeze," 
 througjh each evolution of the dance. Or when 
 called upon to quit her original position in the 
 quadrille for a few seconds and again return to 
 it, such was the quiet grace with which she exe- 
 cuted the task, that it seemed as though the deli- 
 cate vision, fading away like Scott's White Lady
 
 78 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 of the Mist, had but ceased for a moment to be 
 visible, and, in a moment more, again became 
 palpable to sight. 
 
 From time to time she looked at Lady Palli- 
 ser ; not, however, as though it were there she 
 sought a refuge ; for, on the contrary, there was 
 an indescribable something in the manner of the 
 glance, which conveyed the idea that her lady- 
 ship was the principal object of her daughter's 
 fears. Yet again, the moment the quadrille 
 was concluded, Lady Caroline expressed a 
 wish to rejoin her mother. Lady PaUiser re- 
 ceived our hero with a coldness that very soon 
 made him feel obliged to take himself off. At 
 once captivated and mortified, he felt disinclined 
 to dance any more, and rather disposed to in- 
 dulge in reveries, while pursuing with his eyes 
 the form of his new acquaintance through the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 79 
 
 moving crowd. Instead, however, of reclining 
 indolently on a sofa, or lounging about with 
 other men, he devoted himself, in the most 
 amiable mamier possible, to his mother and sis- 
 ters for the remainder of the evening ; and though 
 they found him somewhat deaf, performed, when 
 they did make him hear, any little service they 
 required of him with great alacrity. Notwith- 
 standing which, ere the evening was over, each 
 of his sisters had severally informed him that he 
 was already in love. Such secrets are generally 
 discovered by others before they are known to 
 the parties themselves. 
 
 A friend of Lady Arden's, forgetful that her 
 ladyship objected on principle to all younger 
 Bons, except her owji, had introduced Henry 
 Lindsey to Louisa. Her exquisite beauty daz- 
 zled and deUghted him, while her gratified
 
 80 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 vanity, at the enthusiasm of his admiration, 
 made her manner so encouraging, that he be- 
 lieyed himself well received, and gave himself 
 up to hopes and feelings destined to cost him 
 many a bitter pang. 
 
 Lord Darlingford, though a widower and a 
 man, by his own account upwards of fifty, was 
 much disposed, on the strength of his rank, to 
 be a serious admirer of Jane Arden. This 
 evening he found himself better received than 
 usual ; he did not deem it necessary to make a 
 fool of himself by dancing, but was sitting 
 apart with the lady, conversing very earnestly, 
 and was just beginning to weigh the propriety 
 of availing himself of so favourable an oppor- 
 tunity for making her an offer of marriage, 
 when Lord Nelthorpe came up and asked her 
 to dance. The moment before she had deter-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 81 
 
 mined, if he did do so at this late period of the 
 evening, to reject his offer. As soon, however, 
 as he approached, and preferred his request, her 
 spirited resolve vanished : with one of her 
 sweetest smiles she rose and took his arm, and 
 in the flurry of her spirits, forgetting to make 
 even a parting bow to poor Lord Darhngford, 
 left him sitting alone, looking what he was, 
 quite forsaken^ and cursing himself for an old 
 fool. 
 
 Lord Nelthorpe now took pains to be parti- 
 cularly agreeable, and either from vanity or 
 lingering attachment, was evidently anxious to 
 discover if he still retained the power he knew 
 he had long possessed over the feelings of his 
 fair partner. He made allusions to lier late 
 companion, and half jest, half earnest, ventured 
 several whispered comments, almost amount- 
 e3
 
 82 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 ing to tender reproaches, watching her coun- 
 tenance while he did so. As he handed her 
 into the carriage, he secretly wished, with 
 something like a sigh, that he had no brothers 
 and sisters to pay off. She went home in high 
 spirits. 
 
 " I wish, Jane," said Lady Arden, as they 
 drove from the door, " you would make up your 
 mind to marry Lord Darlingford." 
 
 Jane made no reply.
 
 83 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The next morning Willoughby confided to 
 his brother the determination he had come to on 
 the last evening, of proposing for Lady Anne 
 Armadale, the daughter of Lord Selby. 
 
 He described with great exultation how much 
 attached the lady had been to a gentleman of 
 whom her friends disapproved, and whom she 
 was notwithstanding determined to marry up to 
 the time he had become his rival ; but that he 
 had not been long in driving the former lover
 
 84 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 from the field, and securing the preference of 
 the lady. 
 
 Alfred, in his anxiety for his brother's happi- 
 ness, forgot for the moment his usual dread of 
 offering advice. 
 
 " For heaven sake," he said, " Willoughby^ 
 pause ! Be quite certain that you have secured 
 her real preference !" 
 
 " I am quite certain," said Willoughby, taking 
 up his hat impatiently. 
 
 " Nay, do not be hasty either with the lady 
 or with me." 
 
 " You think it is impossible for any woman to 
 prefer me, T suppose. I have, I confess, no 
 pretensions to be an Adonis," he added with a 
 sneer, for he knew that Alfred was considered 
 remarkably handsome; " at the same time all 
 people''s taste are fortunately not alike !"
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 85 
 
 " Nay, my dear Willoughby, do not be child- 
 ish ? Is it not wiser to use a httle caution ? 
 Have you no fear of finding yourself, when too 
 late, the husband of a woman capable of sacri- 
 ficing her feelings to her interest ? ^ 
 
 Willoughby abruptly quitted the room. He 
 went directly to Lord Selby's, and in less than an 
 hour had proposed for, and been accepted by 
 Lady Anne Annadale. 
 
 Unhappily for Willoughby, the slender share 
 of sense he possessed was not only at all times 
 hoodwinked by vanity, but in general super- 
 ceded in its operations by temper. For if any 
 friend happened to offer him the slightest ad- 
 vice, so jealous was he of having it supposed 
 his judgment required assistance, that, with- 
 out waiting to consider if any offence was 
 intended, he would feel perhaps but a momen-
 
 S6 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 tary resentment, yet, while under its dominion, 
 as the readiest and most appropriate revenge, 
 would resolve hastily on an opposite hne of con* 
 duct to that suggested by his adviser ; and hav- 
 ing once so resolved, obstinacy would put its 
 seal on a determination which in fact had ne- 
 ver been examined by his understanding, while 
 had there been no interference, he would at 
 least have considered the subject, and might, 
 possibly, have come to a just conclusion. 
 
 A man of a decidedly superior mind, on the 
 contrary, having no private misgivings respect- 
 ing his own capacity, is always well pleased to 
 take under consideration any new views of a 
 subject, which the suggestions of a friend, or 
 indeed of any one, may present. It is of course 
 his own judgment which finally decides, but 
 hke a just judge, after first hearing every wit-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 87 
 
 ness, that is to say every argument which can 
 be brought to bear upon the subject. Acute- 
 ness in prejudging is the boast of the fool. 
 Discrimination to give its due weight to every 
 part of the evidence, the privilege of the man 
 of sense. The fool is always telling you he can 
 see with half an eye. We would request such 
 persons to employ in future the whole of both 
 orbs, and possibly with a vision so extraordi- 
 nary, they might be enabled to pierce even to 
 the bottom of that far-famed ^vell, in which it is 
 gaid that truth has hitherto lain hid from the re- 
 gearches of mankind. 
 
 Certainly no claim to merit or distinction can 
 be more absurd than that which is founded on 
 the wilfully limited means employed for pro- 
 ducins: the desired end. 
 
 Excellence, to challenge admiration, should
 
 88 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 be excellence in the abstract; while he who 
 would be even a respectable candidate for the 
 prize, should use every power that Providence 
 has given to man, avail himself of every ray of 
 light that the experience of past ages has eli- 
 cited, and bringing all to a focus, pour the con- 
 centrated beam on the path to be explored. 
 
 Thus only can each generation hope to gain 
 some step on the road towards perfection unat- 
 tained by its predecessor.
 
 89 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Gloucester Villa, the residence of Mr. 
 Salter, at Cheltenham, was in a state of high 
 preparation for a dinner to be given to Lady 
 Flamborough. 
 
 Mrs. Johnson had no leisure to assist the 
 young ladies to dress, they were therefore left 
 to perform that office for each other. 
 
 " By-the-by, I have been so much hurried, 
 I forgot to tell you," said Grace, *' but Lady 
 Arden is now really coming : Mrs. Dorothea's 
 maid has been telling Johnson all about it."
 
 90 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " Oh, I dare say it's just talk as usual," said 
 Miss Salter. 
 
 " No, no, it's quite certain now," persisted 
 her sister, " for Violet Bank is taken for her 
 ladyship for six months certain, and the adjoin- 
 ing villa. Jessamine Bower, for another titled 
 lady; and I daresay they'll be acquainted, so 
 you see what we've lost !" 
 
 " Well, that is really provoking !" exclaimed 
 Miss Salter. ** I wonder would there be any 
 use in sending her an invitation for this even- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Sending who an invitation?" said Grace. 
 " Mrs. Dorothea do you mean? Oh, quite ridi- 
 culous at this late hour; and after leaving her 
 out ofthe ball too!" 
 
 . " I know all that," replied Miss Salter; 
 " but let me see, I'll write her a long apology
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 91 
 
 about having sent a card for our ball to her old 
 lodging in mistake ! and for the short notice Til 
 gay, that I know she likes friendly invitations 
 better than formal ones, and that our party 
 this evening is to be so particularly select, 
 just what I know she likes; and then I'll 
 give a list of the titles, and that I think will 
 decide her, even if she does see through the 
 excuses." 
 
 Accordingly Miss Salter, in great triumph at 
 her own diplomatic abilities, wrote and dis- 
 patched her note. 
 
 " After all," she added, as she resumed her 
 toilette, " these are sorrowful rejoicings for us, 
 for I suppose with this fine lady coming to din- 
 ner, and being so gracious, and all that, she 
 means to marry my father; and if slie does, 
 though to be sure it 'ill bring fine acquaintance.
 
 92 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 I suppose, but will it bring us husbands ? — on 
 the contrary, if it gets abroad that we're not to 
 have a shilling — '* 
 
 " We'll have but a poor chance, I'm afraid," 
 interrupted Grace. 
 
 " But ril tell you what I have done to en- 
 deavour to obviate that," said her sister ; *^ I 
 have been telling Johnson, and I have told her 
 too that she may tell it w^here she pleases, 
 for it's no harm that the truth should be 
 known, that our mother's fortune was a hun- 
 dred thousand pounds, and was so settled 
 upon us that my father can't keep it from us ; 
 and she has begun already with Sir William 
 Orm's man, and he has told his master, and Sir 
 William is full of it ; so we shall see how he 
 behaves to-day." 
 
 " But what a shocking lie !" said Grace,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 93 
 
 " Lie ! Nonsense !" replied her sister, "Who 
 tells the truth, Fd be glad to know?" 
 
 Here the answer to the note interrupted the 
 conversation. It was of course a formal apo- 
 logy. Mrs. Dorothea had not been at a loss 
 to see through the motives of her friends tlie 
 Salters. 
 
 The young ladies now descended to the draw- 
 ing-room, where Mr. Salter was already stand- 
 ing at a window, in high dress ; with the bright 
 wliite, angular points of a fresh put on collar, 
 contrasting finely with the shining ruby of his 
 cheeks. A carriage with a coronet drove up 
 to the door ; bless me, how fine ! thought the 
 Misses Salter ; it was almost enough to recon- 
 cile their father's marr^nng again. 
 
 Lady Flamborough was aimounced. Her 
 ladyship entered j her round, fat, rosy face,
 
 94 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 smiling in a round wreath of red roses. Her 
 dress, a colour de rose satin, her ornaments, 
 necklace and earings of pink topaz. 
 
 The broad daylight, or rather sunshine, of 
 the first day in May, in weather unusually fine, 
 and even hot for the season, in a three win- 
 dowed, south-west drawing room, at six o'clock, 
 did ample justice to the glow of her ladyship's 
 appearance, which nothing less than the en- 
 trance, immediately after, of Lady Whaleworthy, 
 in a crimson velvet, could have at all subdued. 
 
 Lady Shawbridge arrived next. Her dress was 
 a gold coloured velvet, and gold tissue turban, 
 the wide circumference of which displayed the 
 fiery countenance hinted at by Mrs. Dorothea 
 to great advantage. Indeed the whole as- 
 sembly was of a fiery order ; although being, as 
 we have said, hot weather, there was no oc-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 95 
 
 casion for fire. But the very furniture of the 
 room, unluckily for the day and aspect, was 
 crimson, while in addition to the red and reddish 
 countenances already enumerated. Miss Salter's 
 face, on all warm occasions like the present, was 
 much too apt to emulate the glow of her father''s. 
 While even poor Miss Grace, though in general, 
 from hardness and thinness, a chilly object, was 
 subject with peculiar provocation, to a dullish 
 red knob, like a \\inter cherry, just at the end 
 of her nose. 
 
 The rest of the party having arrived, and 
 among them Sir William Orm, Sir James Lind-» 
 sey. Sir Francis Brierton, and the general, dinner 
 was announced. Mr. Salter gave his arm to 
 Lady Flamborough, and leading the way, was 
 followed by the rest of the company, to the 
 dining-room ; which, having thie same aspect
 
 96 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 as the drawing-room, and being, besides 
 over the kitchen, was by no means calculated 
 to cool the already heated guests. The two 
 turtles, we mean Mr. Salter and Lady Flam- 
 borough, every way so well entitled to the title, 
 being in their forms turtles, and in their present 
 dispositions towards each other turtle doves, 
 took their loving seats side by side, opposite 
 to the turtle-soup, at the head of the table. 
 (Men who have no wives of course head their 
 own tables.) 
 
 The dinner having been entirely provided at 
 so much a-head, by a pastrycook, who w as to 
 remove its remains, was of course only too good, 
 we mean too fine, too much ornamented, too 
 technical ; in fact the display of each course re- 
 sembled more a confectioner's counter than a 
 gentleman''s table. Everything, in short, was
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 97 
 
 SO befrosted, and so beglazed, that if one had 
 been at all absent, one might have put one's 
 hand in one's pocket, and asked what was to pay. 
 It is an acknowledged fact, that to act the 
 gentleman is impossible. It is equally impos- 
 sible for people, though possessed of the purse 
 of Fortunatus, to ape successfully, on special 
 occasions, a style of living not habitual to 
 them. 
 
 We hope we have not cooled the turtle-soup 
 by our digression. Poor Mr. Salter, instead of 
 quietly conveying ladles of soup to soup-plates, 
 till the demand ceased, was most unnecessarily 
 prolonging his own labours, and delaying the 
 progress of the feast, by deliberately inquiring 
 of every several member of the assembly by 
 name, if they chose turtle-soup, and poising the 
 while, his insignia of office over the tureen, 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 till their ear caught the question and his the 
 reply. 
 
 By the time similar rites had been performed 
 over every steaming remove, it may be believed 
 that the coutenance of our host had lost nothing 
 of its brilliancy. During the dessert he had 
 more leisure to turn its lustre, adorned vi^itli 
 smiles, on his fair companion; whose uplifted 
 eyes languishingly met his, till there w^anted but 
 the pipe to make the pair an excellent study for 
 a painter of the Dutch school. The attitude too, 
 leaning back at their ease in their chairs, so 
 favourably displayed their forms, that the couple 
 in this particular very much resembled a pair 
 of globes ; though we must confess that, except 
 in courtesy to the lady, we should not have been 
 disposed to designate either the celestial. 
 
 Sir William Orm, who had handed in Miss
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 99 
 
 Salter, was descanting with much feeHng on 
 the interested motives which governed the ma- 
 trimonial views of but too many men in the 
 world, and declaring that such must ever be 
 secondary considerations with him. Miss Salter 
 confessed that amiable sentiments like his were 
 very rare now a days, and consequently the 
 more to be admired. On the opposite side, Sir 
 James Lindsey was giggling with silly self- 
 satisfaction, as he sat receiving the assiduous 
 attentions and pointed compliments of IMiss 
 Grace. While Lady Shawbridge was remarking 
 aside to Sir Matthias Whale worthy, that Lady 
 Flamborough's youthful airs were quite dis- 
 gusting ; and Sir Matthias in return, made some 
 comments on Mr. Salter's dancing, which 
 sounded very ungrateful, proceeding from hps 
 f2
 
 100 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 which had just finished a second plate of the 
 man's turtle-soup. 
 
 Lady Whaleworthy, good soul, was telhng 
 Sir Henry Shawbridge one of the long stories 
 about herself, her father and mother, brothers 
 and sisters, husband, children, and servants, 
 which she inflicted on all who had the misfor- 
 tune to sit near, and the patience to listen to 
 her. 
 
 Ere the ladies left the dining-room, the now 
 completely enamoured Mr. Salter had deter- 
 mined, that in the course of the evening he would 
 take a sly opportunity of making Lady Flam- 
 borough an offer of his heart and hand. Alas ! 
 how vain are human resolves, when we know 
 not what an hour or at most an hour and 
 a half may bring forth; for it could not have
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 101 
 
 exceeded that time, when the gentlemen followed 
 the ladies to the drawing-room, and yet Mr. 
 Salter's visual organs by some process, possibly 
 connected with a certain series of toasts, which 
 despite of fashion, he might have felt it his 
 duty to propose, had in that short period under- 
 gone such an extraordinary change, that when 
 he approached what ought to have been the 
 sole object of his affections, he beheld as it were 
 two Lady Flamboroughs, sitting, or rather at- 
 tempting to sit, on the same chair ! He gazed 
 in utter amazement, and strove to concentrate 
 the powers of sight : for a second the mysterious 
 vision amalgamated, and was but one ! again, 
 however, it glided asunder, and became two! 
 nor did this happen but once, so as to leave any 
 room for doubt or mistake, on the contrary, while 
 our astonished host still stood staring:, the ex-
 
 102 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 traordinary process was frequently repeated. 
 Nay, once, as lured by the smiles of the fair 
 shadow nearest him, he ventured to address 
 some complimentary remark to its ear in par- 
 ticular, it slid away as if for refuge behind its 
 representative, and immediately after popped in 
 view on the other side ! 
 
 Whether it is that supernatural appearances 
 have a tendency to awe the passions into stillness, 
 or whether this glaring infringement on the 
 classical laws of unity, by dividing, destroyed 
 the interest ; or whether possibly, some vague 
 dread of being betrayed unconsciously into the 
 sin of bigamy, might have presented itself to 
 the imagination of Mr. Salter, we have not 
 philosophical lore nor critical acumen sufficient 
 to decide; we can only speak to the effect, 
 which was, that Mr. Salter, instead of finding
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 103 
 
 with this double provocation a double share of 
 love inundating his heart and overflowing his 
 lips, was struck perfectly mute, and continued 
 so for the remainder of the evening. 
 
 So much for lovers continuing their libations 
 at Bacchus' shrine until they see double.
 
 104 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ''Well, there is nothing like getting into 
 select society after all ! "" said Miss Salter to her 
 sister, when they had retired for the night. 
 '' Who would have thought, six months ago, of 
 both of us having baronets for lovers ? I dare 
 say you are right, Grace, and that this marriage 
 of my father's (for I suppose now it will take 
 place), is the best thing that could have hap- 
 pened for us. And I know. Via determined 
 when I'm married to Sir William Orm (and he 
 has gone great lengths, I assure you), that I will
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 105 
 
 visit none but titled people. And tell me, how 
 did \ou and Sir James oet on ?" 
 
 " Oh, dehghtfully ! " answered her sister, ^^he 
 asked me if I thought him ver^^ handsome : and of 
 course I said I did ; and then he laughed so. And 
 then he asked me if I thouo-ht the silk of his 
 waistcoat a pretty pattern ; and I said I did ; 
 and he told me a lady chose it for him. And 
 he asked me if I was inclined to be jealous ; and 
 I said if I thought he had any regard for me, I'd 
 be jealous of every lady that looked at him ; and 
 he said, Svould you indeed ?' and laughed again. 
 And he asked me if I admired his dancins: as 
 much as most people did, for that he was thought 
 a first rate dancer ; and I said that nobody could 
 help admiring his dancing. And he asked me 
 if I could think what in the world it was that 
 made so many young ladies refuse to dance 
 f3
 
 106 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 with him ; and I said it was, to be sure, because 
 he danced so well that they were afraid it would 
 make their own bad dancing the more noticed. 
 'And do you really think so?' said he, laughing 
 again. And so, at last, only think ! he asked 
 me if I'd like veiy much to be my lady! and I 
 said I should of all things. And so then he 
 laughed, and said he could make any body a 
 lady he chose." 
 
 " And I hope you said you wished he'd make 
 you one," intermpted her sister. 
 
 '' Why I thought of it,'' replied Miss Grace, 
 '^but I was afraid people would hear me ; if we 
 had been quite by ourselves, I would have 
 said it." 
 
 '* What nonsense ! " exclaimed Miss Salter. 
 *' If you can get to be my lady, and have fifteen 
 thousand a-year at your command, I think you
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 107 
 
 can afford to defy people's comments about how 
 you came by it ! You said, the other day, that 
 if luck knocked once at your door, it shouldn't 
 have to knock twice. Fm sure it knocked then, 
 with a vengeance, and such a knock as comes 
 to the doors of but few, I can tell you ; and you 
 the fool not to answer it. It's such as you'll 
 never hear again, with your little ugly black-a- 
 moor face. And when you had the good fortune 
 to get hold of a fool that didn't know the dif- 
 ference, if you dosed his draught \^^th flattery 
 enough, you should have said or done anything 
 to please him, blockhead that you are." 
 
 " You needn't be so abusive, Eliza," said poor 
 Grace, almost whimpering, " I'm sure I thought 
 I was barefaced enough, this time, to please you." 
 
 " Such stuff, with your mock modesty," inter- 
 rupted Miss Salter.
 
 108 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " And as for a black face, it's as good as a 
 red one, any day/' continued Grace, " and ra- 
 ther genteeler for that matter," she added, " since 
 you're grown so mighty fond of gentihty." 
 
 Miss Salter's rage now knew no bounds, and 
 consequently became so coarse and disgusting 
 in its manifestation, that we shall forbear any 
 further representation of the scene. 
 
 Vulgar people are bad enough in good humour. 
 Propitious fate deliver us from them when they 
 are out of temper ! 
 
 Before proceeding further with our history, 
 we may as well take the present opportunity of 
 sketching slightly the origin of this same titled 
 personage, by a connection with whom the 
 Misses Salter expected to gain so much conse- 
 quence. Lady Flamborough was the only child 
 of an hotel-keeper, who, in his hospitable calling,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PllIDE. 109 
 
 had amassed enormous wealth. He had not 
 always, however, been the great man, even in 
 his own line, which he ultimately became. His 
 daughter, therefore, to the age of five or six, 
 was brought up, hterally running about in a 
 very minor estabhshment, little better, in short, 
 than a road-side posting-house; and, being a 
 pretty, rosy, fat child, had, up to that age, been 
 the pet and plaything, not only of her father, 
 (she had no mother living), but of every waiter 
 and hostler in and about the house. And often 
 had she sat on her father's knee, while he drank 
 his ale in the bar, and, when the jest and the 
 tale went round, which were, as yet, to the ear 
 of the cliild, a foreign tongue, laughed merrily 
 for very glee at seeing others laugh. But alas ! 
 amid the sounds and sights of scenes like these, 
 native delicacy, even at this early age, was lost.
 
 110 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 For callousness is not so much a wrong bias 
 given, as a class of feelings, out of which some 
 of the most valuable traits of character are here- 
 after to be formed, destroyed; and if the mate- 
 rial be gone, how can the superstructure be 
 raised ? 
 
 The child was, after this, sent to expensive 
 boarding-schools, and as her father's fortunes 
 rose, given every possible accomplishment. In 
 these, and her being very pretty, Mr. # * # #, 
 afterwards Lord Flamborough, but then a 
 younger brother, and of course poor, found some 
 apology for overlooking the lady's want of birth, 
 and appropriating her immense wealth, which 
 was his true object. 
 
 Soon after his marriage, his brother died, and 
 he succeeded to the title and estates ; and now, 
 bitterly repenting his ill-assorted union, behaved
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. Ill 
 
 with neglect, and even contempt, towards his 
 wife. Upon which the lady, partly out of re- 
 venge, and partly out of levity, gave a favour- 
 able reception to the addresses of a lover in no 
 very exalted sphere of life. 
 
 Proceedings were immediately instituted to 
 obtain legal redress ; but before the divorce had 
 passed the house, liis lordship, who had pre- 
 viously been in a bad state of health, chanced 
 to die. 
 
 Lady Flamborough, therefore, though of 
 course banished all tolerable society, still conti- 
 nued to be Lady Flamborough, and to enjoy a 
 handsome jointure. On her total expulsion 
 from the set among whom her marriage had, for 
 a time, given her a place, she descended till she 
 found her level among that, mtionally speak- 
 ing, only disreputable class, made up of those
 
 1j2 dilemmas of pride. 
 
 who have lost caste by their own wilful depar- 
 tures from principle, and those who are con- 
 temptible enough to be willing to associate with 
 vice, for the love of the tarnished tinsel which 
 once was rank ; forgetful that titles and honors 
 were first invented as badges of the virtuous or 
 heroic deeds of those on whom they were be- 
 stowed ; that only as such they have any mean- 
 ing ; and that, when borne by the vicious, they 
 become, in a peculiar degree, objects for the 
 finger of scorn to point at, and seem to claim, 
 as their especial privilege, the contempt and 
 derision of mankind. 
 
 "'Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great. '* 
 
 Titles are attainted for high treason, why 
 should they not be so for every treason against 
 good morals ? Are not good morals as essential
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 113 
 
 to the well-being of the community as good 
 Government ? 
 
 Nay, what is Government? Power to enforce 
 moral order. ^Why then should not a sin 
 against the end be visited as severely as a sin 
 against the means ? 
 
 Are men, whose vices invade the peace of the 
 domestic hearth, and sunder the sacred ties of 
 life, — or men who court luxury in foreign climes, 
 while evading the payment of their just debts 
 at home ; consigning the while industrious 
 tradesmen and their helpless families to ruin ; — 
 are men, in short, who are no longer men of 
 honour, to be still misnamed yioble men ? Is it 
 not the natural tendency of such misnomers to 
 bring nobility into contempt? And is not this 
 an injustice to the truly noble ?
 
 114 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Are the vicious to be allowed to sully honors 
 till the honourable cannot wear them ? 
 
 Nobility would indeed be beautiful were it a 
 guarantee of virtue ! titles would indeed be 
 honours, if the men who bore them must be 
 pure ! And if the certainty that those titles for 
 ages had existed in that family, were thus an 
 assurance that morality for centuries had not 
 been sinned against in that house, then indeed, 
 would rank be nobility. Let us not be mis- 
 understood : let us not be supposed to mean 
 that men of rank are more likely to offend 
 against the laws of morality than other men ; on 
 the contrary, education and circumstances ought 
 to render them less so : we simply assert, that 
 when they do so offend, such offence ought to 
 deo^rade them from their rank as noble men.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 115 
 
 How glorious would be that land that first 
 enacted such a law ! how worthy its monarch 
 of that greatest of his titles, " Defender of the 
 Faith !" For what is this faith ? Religion ! 
 and the author of Rehgion has defined it thus : 
 
 *' True religion and undefiled, before God and 
 the Father is this: to visit the fatherless and 
 widows in their afiliction, and keep himself un- 
 spotted from the world."
 
 116 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Mrs. Dorothea had been so busy all day, 
 chano;ino; her lodo-ino-s again, that she had 
 hardly had time to ask Sarah a word about the 
 Salters' dinner-party. 
 
 On this occasion, however, we must remark, 
 that she had moved to a furnished house, not to 
 a mere lodging ; for she w^as determined to make 
 an exertion, while the Ardens were in Chelten- 
 ham, live how she might the rest of the year, 
 having a great horror of living like a poor 
 relation.
 
 DILEMMAS Of PRIDE. 117 
 
 Most people have a particular objection to 
 seeming to be what they really are. 
 
 Indeed Lady Arden had written most kindly 
 to Mrs. Dorothea, inviting her to spend the 
 time they should be at Cheltenham with them. 
 Had the expense of a house or lodging been no 
 object to Aunt Dorothea, she would gladly have 
 availed herself of this invitation for the pleasure 
 of the thing ; but the aiTangement would have 
 been so very convenient, that her pride took the 
 alarm, and would not suffer her to accept the 
 offer. In her father's life time, as a daughter of 
 the then head of the family, she had acquired 
 notions of her ovra consequence, which became 
 a painful incumbrance from the moment her cir- 
 cumstances underwent that violent revolution 
 to which those of the daughters of the proudest 
 and most ancient families are peculiarly liable.
 
 118 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Pride in any situation is a moral disease, 
 which it would be highly desirable to see for 
 ever banished from the world ! but pride, when 
 complicated with poverty, is apt to render the 
 unhappy sufferer not only always very uncom- 
 fortable, but often very ridiculous. Added to 
 which, it must ever be impossible for the heart 
 that harbours pride to know contentment. 
 
 At present, however, Mrs. Dorothea was quite 
 delighted. The house she had taken for six 
 months certain for Lady Arden, though de- 
 signated by the rural title of Violet Bank, was a 
 splendid mansion. The one she had taken for 
 herself for the same period, was both pretty and 
 agreeably situated ; it was accommodated with a 
 cook, or maid of all work, who was taken with 
 it as a part of the furniture. Mrs. Dorothea had 
 also hired a footman for the great occasion, and
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 119 
 
 put him into livery ; so that with Sarah, her own 
 maid, she had now, for a single lady, quite a re- 
 spectable httle establishment, and could look 
 forward to retumino; the evenmo; entertain- 
 ments, at least of her relations, on something of 
 an independent footing. Dinners of course she 
 could not give, nor need she accept them ; she 
 did not care what she eat. She certainly liked 
 the best society, and that she should now have, 
 without la}dng herself under obligations to any 
 one. For, much as she liked Lady Arden, (one 
 whom no one could help liking, she was so truly 
 amiable,) she could not forget that her ladyship 
 was a stranger in blood, from whom, conse- 
 quently, an Arden could not receive even a 
 courtesy without requital. 
 
 Mrs. Dorothea was so glad too, as she told 
 Sarah, while she stood in the centre of her new
 
 120 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 drawing-room, looking round her, to get out of 
 that horrid place where she had been for the 
 last two months, sitting every evening on those 
 tiresome little chairs, for, as Sarah had prophe- 
 sied, her landlady had never given her the sofa, 
 nor put the drops to the chimney-light, nor even 
 got a key for the chiffonier. Then, the woman 
 of the house could not or would not afford a 
 decent servant, so that the cooking was shock- 
 in »•, and the attendance wretched ; and then the 
 oven of the bakehouse next door she found out 
 at last was just on the other side of the one 
 brick thin wall, against which her bed stood, so 
 that she had been nearly baked to death, and 
 had been losing her health without knowing 
 why. To be sure the carpet looked respecta- 
 ble, but then the lodging had no other re- 
 commendation, as in addition to its many dis-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 121 
 
 comforts, it had proved one way or other very 
 expensive j for mistaking the heat and restless- 
 ness she felt at nights for the consequences of 
 the lassitude and want of appetite of which they 
 were in fact the cause ; she had got frightened 
 about herself, and had called in doctor after 
 doctor, and taken ever so much medicine in 
 vain, till at last happening to go in next door to 
 correct an error in her baker's bill, in which she 
 had been charged with all the bread supplied to 
 her landlady, she became acquainted with the 
 geography of the premises, and so discovered 
 the whole mystery. Then being without a key 
 to the chiffonier too, made a great difference in 
 the groceries, though having no proof of the 
 fact, it would not do to say so. This might 
 have brought down the lawyers upon her; then 
 indeed would the cup of her afflictions have 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 been full. Poor Aunt Dorothea felt almost re- 
 stored to the days of her youth by the compara- 
 tive comforts which now surrounded her. She 
 moved into her regular dining-room when her 
 dinner was ready, and was there decently and 
 respectfully attended by her own footman in 
 livery. There was a sideboard, and her few 
 articles of plate were arranged upon it, and 
 things looked orderly and comfortable ; it was 
 enough to give one an appetite, and made her 
 boiled chicken and quarter of a hundred of 
 asparagus seem a dinner for an emperor. In 
 stead of dining in the comfortless scramble she 
 used to do, in her haste to send the tray out of 
 the drawing-room lest some one should come 
 in, she now eat as slowly as possible to prolong 
 the gratifying sense of dignity which accompa- 
 nied the ceremony.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 123 
 
 The very next day the Misses Salter had the 
 impudence to call, and the new footman not 
 being in the family secrets, admitted them. 
 
 On their entrance Aunt Dorothea looked her 
 astonishment with great dignity. 
 
 *^What a sweet situation," exclaimed Miss 
 Salter. 
 
 " What a charming house,*' said Miss Grace. 
 Mrs. Dorothea bowed. 
 
 " How fortunate we were in finding you at 
 home," said Miss Salter. 
 
 " Oh, yes, very fortunate indeed !" added Miss 
 Grace. Mrs. Dorothea bowed again, 
 
 " How sorry we were you could not come to 
 us last night," said Miss Salter, ^' we had such 
 a select party, just what you would have liked.'* 
 
 " Yes, just what you would have liked," 
 echoed Miss Grace. 
 
 g2
 
 124 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " I hope we shall be more fortunate the next 
 time," said Miss Salter. "We shall have a 
 great many of those agreeable select parties just 
 now. Owx particular friend J Lady Flamborough, 
 you see, and our particular friend, Lady Whale- 
 worthy, and our particular friend. Lady Shaw- 
 bridge, and all that pleasant set being here just 
 now, naturally induces one to see a great deal 
 of company. Then there are such delightful 
 young men here at present, and that you know 
 always makes parties pleasant, there's our friend, 
 Sir William Orm, sush an elegant fashionable 
 young man." 
 
 "And Sir James Lindsey," observed Miss 
 Grace, " an old baronet, with fifteen thousand 
 a-year.'' 
 
 " Yes," said Miss Salter, " such an agreeable 
 good tempered httle man, so affable and unas-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 125 
 
 suming. And there is General Powel too, in 
 short we quite abound in nice young men. And 
 I hope," added Miss Salter, with an air of great 
 friendship, " that we shall soon and often have 
 the pleasure of seeing you, Mrs. Arden." 
 
 " You are very obliging," replied Mrs. Do- 
 rothea, bowing gravely, " but my arrangements 
 will for some considerable time be controlled 
 entirely by those of my sister. Lady Arden, and 
 her family, w4th whom I 'shall consider myself 
 engaged, either at home or abroad, every day 
 during their stay." 
 
 " So you expect Lady Arden," said Miss 
 Salter, with well affected surprise. " Dear me, 
 Tm sure we should be most happy to pay atten- 
 tion to any friend of yours." 
 
 " You are ver}^ obliging, " observed Mrs. 
 Dorothea, with if possible increasing stiffness,
 
 126 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE^ 
 
 " but Lady Arden does not mean to extend her 
 acquaintance." 
 
 The discomforted Misses Salter finding lin- 
 gering and last words useless, at length took 
 their departure. 
 
 The Ardens dined on the road, but arrived 
 in time to take tea with Aunt Dorothea. The 
 weather was beautiful; the rural appearance 
 of the little villa, situated among the plantations 
 and pleasure grounds of the public walks, its 
 own miniature lawn and veranda, adorned with 
 flowers and flowering shrubs, and garlanded 
 with roses as if for a festival, the fine trees of 
 the Old- Well- Walk in view, and bands of music, 
 as if hid in every grove, sending forth on each 
 breeze some strain of melody, all seemed de- 
 lightful and refreshing to people just escaped 
 from the heat and fatigue of London. While
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 127 
 
 the large and joyous looking family party, some 
 seated within the open glass door; some stand- 
 ing in the veranda, some straying on the fresh 
 mown turf of the little lawn, formed a picture 
 of social felicity quite delightful to the usually 
 sohtary Aunt Dorothea ; to whom the idea of 
 the party being not only her near relatives, 
 but also her guests, was altogether so pleasing 
 that she had not been as happy for many years. 
 To her kind heart must be ascribed the chief of 
 the pleasure she experienced ; if, however, there 
 was a slight admixture of gmtified vanity we 
 cannot be surprised, when we consider that a 
 pretty comfortable house of her own, in which 
 to receive her fnends, was to her so great a 
 novelty.
 
 128 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 So fond is youth of novelty, that Alfred and 
 his sisters, though fresh from all the gaieties a 
 London season has to offer, were quite impatient, 
 the very morning after their arrival, to visit the 
 public walks, of which they had had peeps the 
 evening before from Aunt Dorothea's veranda. 
 They had been told that about seven was the 
 hour. Accordingly, as it was a fine sunny morn- 
 ing, the girls were all up soon after six. They 
 had been told too, that notwithstanding the 
 hour, it was usual to be extremely fine ; but for
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 129 
 
 this their habits of good taste were too in- 
 veterate; they equipped themselves therefore 
 in quite close bonnets, and having roused and 
 enlisted the goodnatured Alfred, set off for 
 Mrs. Dorothea's, Lady Arden having by an ar- 
 rangement of the evening before, committed 
 the young people to the charge of their aunt, 
 knowing that she should be too much fatigued 
 herself after her journey to lise so early. 
 
 Aunt Dorothea was quite ready. She was 
 too happy in feehng herself necessary to her 
 nieces, too happy in having the charge of them, 
 too justly proud of them, proud of their beauty, 
 and all their many attractions and recommen- 
 dations, to feel anything like laziness, this first 
 morning that she was to show, not only the 
 walks to them, but them to the walks. 
 
 Thither then they proceeded immediately, 
 g3
 
 130 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 guided through each shady maze, as in the play 
 called Magic Music, in which the sounds be- 
 come louder to denote nearness to the object of 
 pursuit. So did the swelling notes of the band 
 grow on the ear as they approached the im- 
 mediate spot, which it is fashion's whim to 
 throng as closely as any crowded assembly- 
 room, while all around is comparative solitude. 
 Here all-kind Aunt Dorothea's proud anti- 
 cipations were fully answered by the sensation 
 her nieces produced ,• every eye was turned to- 
 wards them, and in ten minutes [after their first 
 appearance all the company who sat on the 
 benches on either side the walk had asked each 
 other who they were ; the mammas who had 
 daughters, and the young ladies who were not 
 youngs decided that they were not the style of 
 beauty they admired, while the veiy young girls
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 131 
 
 and all the men, had pronounced them the love- 
 liest creatures they had ever beheld. As for 
 the mothers who had sons, they prudently sus- 
 pended their judgments till they should hear 
 what fortunes the Miss Ardens were likely to 
 have. 
 
 Our party were joined instantly by Henry 
 Lindsey. He had ascertained their movements 
 from themselves, and quitted towTi when they 
 did to be in Cheltenham before them. He was 
 at Louisa's side in a moment, and was received 
 with a blush and a smile which, though pro- 
 duced in part at least by gratified vanity, seemed 
 to his generous nature all he could desire of 
 encouragement. He was of course introduced 
 to Aunt Dorothea, who, until she found out 
 tliat he was a younger brother, was quite de- 
 lighted with him.
 
 132 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 The Arden party now took advantage of 
 vacant seats which presented themselves, and 
 for a time became in their turn spectators of 
 the moving crowd. 
 
 Soon after which, annomiced by noise, and 
 with many coloured streamers flying, the fleet 
 oi' the Salters, and their select friends hove in 
 sight. 
 
 There was in the first place Mr. Salter, with 
 a white hat on, which duly set off by contrast, 
 that true secret for producing effect, a coun- 
 tenance, the hue of which we flatter ourselves 
 we need not again describe. Lady Flamborough 
 embellished his arm; her head thrown back, 
 and adorned by a pink crape hat and feathers, 
 her eyes raised, and practising their most be- 
 coming roll, her complexion heightened by the 
 heat of the weather and the long walk up
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 133 
 
 through the Sherbourn. Not that her dress was 
 oppressive, on the contrar}-, it was light enough 
 in all conscience, consisting of the softest India 
 muslin, trimmed with superfine Mechlin lace, 
 and ornamented at the neck, and at the wrists 
 round the top, and round the bottom, down the 
 sleeves, and down the front, with ties, bows, and 
 ends innumerable, of pink ribbon, while a broad 
 long sash of the same encircled the waist, tied 
 behind in dancing-school fashion. The dress 
 was made nearly as low round the bust as a 
 dinner costume, while what shelter there was 
 to compensate for this was deiived from the 
 long pendant white gauze-ribbon strings, and 
 deep blond-lace edge of the hat, with merely a 
 slight pink gauze- scarf, scarcely wider or longer 
 than the said strings. 
 
 The next in the line (as it approached cross-
 
 134 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 ing the walk abreast), was Lady Whaleworthy, 
 defying hot weather and sunshine in a crimson 
 velvet pehsse. It was a thing which, as she 
 told her own maid when putting it on, had cost 
 too much money to be ever either out of season 
 or out of fashion: it was only your dabs of 
 things w^hich every body could have that were 
 sure to go out again before you could turn your- 
 self round in them, so that there was no saving 
 in the end. " I always tells Sir Matthias that 
 a right good article, cost what it will at the 
 first, is sure to be the cheapest in the long 
 mn." 
 
 Poor Lady Whalewoithy ! a crimson-velvet 
 pelisse had been the dream of her youth when 
 she did not think she should ever possess such 
 a treasure ! and still such the hold of early im- 
 pressions in a crimson-velvet pelisse was con-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 135 
 
 centrated her ladyship's notions of the ne plus 
 ultra of magnificence. Next came little Sir 
 James, fantastically fine, with a lilac figured silk 
 waistcoat, as many gold chains as a lady, and a 
 glaring brooch, the gift of Miss Grace Salter, 
 aiid taken for the purpose of being so bestowed 
 from her own dress, and with her own brown 
 hands transferred to the breast of his open- 
 work-fronted and diamond buttoned inner gar- 
 ment; while the little man, during the whole 
 performance of the flattering operation, had 
 laughed almost hysterically. 
 
 Three titles were very well to muster for a 
 morning walk ; so next came the Misses Salter 
 themselves. They never dressed alike, having 
 each their own notion of the colours that be- 
 came them. In shape, however, both their hats 
 had been made by the same pattern, borrowed
 
 136 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 for the purpose from LadyFlamborough's. Miss 
 Salter's was of yellow crape, Sir William Orm 
 having been his own jockey at a late race, and 
 rode in a yellow jacket; while Miss Grace's, in 
 compliment to Sir James''s waistcoat was lilac ; 
 both, of course, flaunted with feathers, blond, 
 and streaming strings, and had artificial flowers 
 stuck in the inside. Nor had such a show of 
 beauty and fashion been a mere lucky hit; the 
 Misses Salter, on quitting Mrs. Dorethea's, had 
 fully weighed the subject, and resolved to show 
 the Ardens, who might else be prejudiced against 
 them, that they were not people to be looked 
 down upon ; they had gone to infinite pains in 
 makins: their arran cements. 
 
 Alas', little did they think that this very morn- 
 ing was marked in the book of fate to cost them 
 both their lovers : they, too, who had none to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 137 
 
 spare. But unhappily ladies so situated are so 
 fond of showing off a supposed conquest — so 
 
 fond of being suspected of being about to be 
 married, that in their haste to be congratulated, 
 they too often cast away all cause for gratula- 
 tion ; and by the noise they raise themselves, put 
 a r^ian on his guard before he is above half 
 caught, whom they might perhaps have secured, 
 had they been satisfied to delay their triumph, 
 and keep him nodding at the home fireside till 
 they had quietly netted him round. We speak of 
 course only of ladies in distress, like the Misses 
 Salter. The lovely sisters of Arden, on the con- 
 trary, so far from being under the necessity of 
 laying snares for lovers, found them at their feet 
 wherever they went ; the only difficulty was to 
 select from among them such as might both 
 please themselves, and come up to their mamma's
 
 138 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 and brother's ideas of matches suitable to their 
 family consequence. We left our party seated 
 on one of the benches, which, as we have already 
 stated, w^ere ranged on either side this favourite 
 portion of the walk. The eye of Sir James, as 
 he passed with the Salters, was instantly caught 
 by the extreme loveliness of the beautiful sisters. 
 For the poor little man, though he had neither 
 sense nor judgment to direct him in the forma- 
 tion of any thing approaching to an opinion, was 
 not without some of the natural elements of 
 taste, and was especially a great admirer of 
 beauty: it dazzled and delighted him, as new and 
 splendid toys would a child ; and it was much 
 that he had been taught to say, like the good 
 child, " I'll only look !" for he would often stand 
 with liis hands behind his back, as if the atti- 
 tude were intended to keep them out of the way
 
 DILEMMAS OF PEIDE. 139 
 
 of temptation, and to stare at strangers whose 
 appearance happened to strike him, till people 
 would be first offended, and finally guess the 
 truth, that poor Sir James was silly. 
 
 On the present occasion, seeing his brother 
 with the party which had drawn his attention, 
 he joined him instantly; and even while speak- 
 ing to him, as well as for some time after, eagerly 
 passed his eyes again and again along the row 
 of ladies, till they were finally fixed by the pecu- 
 liar lustre of Louisa's beauty. 
 
 Henry now introduced his brotlier, and the 
 party rose to renew their walk. Sir James at- 
 tached himself to them entirely, and contrived, 
 too, to make a good position next to Louisa, 
 whose appetite for admiration was so insatiable, 
 that even his was acceptable. While the whole 
 party were so goodnatured, so agreeable, and so
 
 140 ; DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 much amused ; yet so much too well bred to 
 show it in the rude and flagrant manner in- 
 dulged in by too many towards those labouring 
 under natural infirmities, that poor Sir James 
 was perfectly delighted, and felt as if he was 
 among the most charming, kind, agreeable 
 people in the whole world. 
 
 The Misses Salter had in the mean time 
 made several attempts to bow to Mrs. Dorothea ; 
 but that lady always took care to be so much oc- 
 cupied with other people, as to make it impossible 
 for them to catch her eye. She however no- 
 ticed their proceedings ; and observing that some 
 time after the desertion of Sir James, SirWilUam 
 Oral arrived and joined them, she laid her plans 
 accordingly. Sir WiUiam would not do to in- 
 troduce to her nieces, but he should neverthe- 
 less desert Miss Salter^
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 141 
 
 The walk now began to thin ; on which the 
 Arden party, having invited Sir James and 
 Heni-y Lindsey home with them to breakfast, 
 an invitation very usual on the Cheltenham pro 
 menade, took the path which led to their own 
 villa.
 
 142 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 When breakfast was over, and the gentlemen 
 had taken their departure, Louisa was amaz- 
 ingly laughed at by her sisters about her new 
 lover. 
 
 He was mimicked and ridiculed in eveiy pos- 
 sible way ; walk, air, manner, voice, modes of ex- 
 pression, ways of looking, &c. &;c. ; till the girls 
 had perfectly fatigued themselves with laughing. 
 
 We have heard it said, that it was a service 
 of danger for any man to become the admirer of
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 143 
 
 one of a large family ; for that, let him be ever 
 so successful in talking the lady of his choice 
 into love, she was sure the moment he absented 
 himself to be laughed out of it again by her sis- 
 ters. It is no wonder, then, that poor Sir James 
 did not escape. Lady Arden, however, and Mrs. 
 Dorothea came from time to time to the rescue 
 of the little baronet's memory. 
 
 ''Heedless creatures !'' said Aunt Dorothea, 
 " how little thought you give to the future l^ 
 
 " I only hope he may be serious, and really 
 propose for Louisa," said Lady Arden ; " and if 
 he should, I trust she will have the sense to 
 pause before she rejects so advantageous an 
 offer." 
 
 " But then, mamma, is he not a fool V asked 
 Louisa. 
 
 " Why no, my dear, not exactly that. In-
 
 144 
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 deed, I know a great many ill-tempered, re- 
 served sort of men, without a grain more sense, 
 who pass for Solomons ! He is a vain little 
 man, certainly; and perhaps too goodnatured. 
 But then, only consider what a vastly eligible 
 establishment it would he : you would have rank 
 yourself, and be at once restored to the wealth 
 and station lost to you all by the death of your 
 father ; and what, my dear, is still more impor- 
 tant, you would be rescued in time from the 
 comparative poverty, and consequent obscurity 
 into which you must ultimately sink, if you sur- 
 vive me unmarried." 
 
 What dilemmas so humiliating as those to 
 which Pride reduces its votaries ! 
 
 Lady Arden, by nature amiable, affectionate, 
 and high-minded ; but by education tainted with 
 false pride, thus stooped to the very depth of
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 145 
 
 meanness, unconscious of degradation; and sa- 
 crificed her purest feelings to the supposed ne- 
 cessity of securing to her daughters that arti- 
 ficial station in life which a system of unjust 
 monopoly had for a time given them, and of 
 which the same system had again deprived them. 
 Artificial positions in society, hke unnatural 
 attitudes of the body, cannot be long persisted 
 in without pain and weariness. Where is tlie 
 dignity of human nature ? Forgotten ! for were 
 it remembered, the beggar, when educated, might 
 share it with us ; and at this false pride takes 
 alarm ! And, therefore, do we leave man out 
 of the account, and worship idols of silver and 
 idols of gold, and titles made of the breath of 
 our own lips. 
 
 " From Pride our very reasoning springs." 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Louisa had nothing to say against such un- 
 answerable arguments as those Lady Arden had 
 used ; but she thought of Henry Lindsey, and 
 could not help wishing that he had been the 
 elder brother, or, at least, that the fortune had 
 been divided : even seven thousand five hundred 
 with him would have been better, she could not 
 help thinking, than the whole fifteen thousand 
 with Sir James. 
 
 " It is always desirable,'* continued Lady 
 Arden, " that a girl should marry in the same 
 station as her father ; but it is not always prac- 
 ticable, particularly if she is a daughter of the 
 elder branch ; for no family can have more than 
 one elder son, while many may have half a dozen 
 daughters, no one of whom ought, in common 
 prudence, to marry a younger brother ! !" 
 
 " Nay," said Alfred, " is not this sufficient to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 147 
 
 show how absurdly society is constituted ? What 
 is to become, then, of five out of every six daugh- 
 ters, and all the younger sons in the world ? 
 What is to become of my hapless self, for in- 
 stance?" 
 
 " We must hope, my dear, that you may be 
 fortunate, and meet with an heiress/' 
 
 " But consider, ma'am, how few heiresses 
 there are. Parliament ought to make a new 
 batch every session. It would, however, be of 
 no use to me if they did," he added, despond- 
 ingly, " for heiresses, of course, consider them- 
 selves entitled to marry, not only elder sons, but 
 noblemen. I have often thoug-ht what is to be- 
 come of me, if I should ever have the misfortune 
 to fall in love." 
 
 " You did, I think, fall half in love one even- 
 ing in town,'^ said Jane. 
 h2
 
 148 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 "And, by-the-by/* observed Lady Arden, 
 
 " Lady Caroline Montague is an heiress." 
 Alfred coloured, and rising, sauntered towards 
 
 a window as he replied, " And, therefore, very 
 unlikely to be allowed to cast away a thought 
 
 on an unfor " Here he broke off, and after 
 
 gazing for a time from the window, exclaimed, 
 " That was certainly she — I had but a momen- 
 tary view, but I am quite sure it was she I saw 
 pluck a rose in that next garden, and run into 
 the house again. Can they be living in the ad- 
 joining villa to us?'* 
 
 The grass gardens or little lawns of these twin 
 villas were separated only by wire palings, along 
 which sweet briar and flowering shrubs were 
 trained.
 
 149 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The family party, with the addition of Lord 
 Darhngford, Sir James Lindsey, and his brother, 
 were assembled round the luncheon-table at 
 Lady Arden's. 
 
 Henry Lindsey had been amazingly piqued 
 that morning by Louisa's reception of Sir 
 James. The little baronet was now seated next 
 to her, and making, if possible, a greater fool of 
 himself than usual ; while, in consequence of 
 the lesson she had received, she was yielding 
 him her attention with marked complacency.
 
 150 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Henry sat opposite, and trembled with a 
 mingling of agitation and indignation. He 
 thought he could already foresee that he was 
 to be deliberately immolated to avarice; yet, 
 so thoroughly was he the slave of Louisa's 
 beauty and his own passion, that no worthless- 
 ness on her part could have set him free. He 
 felt, that were she already the wife of his 
 brother, her image might drive him mad, but 
 that he could not banish it from his imagination. 
 
 The hardship of Henry Lindsey's case as a 
 younger brother was conspicuous, and dis- 
 played in a striking manner the evils conse- 
 quent upon sacrificing justice to 2?nWe. 
 
 From a boy he had felt much on this sub- 
 ject ; but being of a generous, warm-hearted, 
 liberal nature, he did not long brood over his 
 own individual wrongs ; his mind, however.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 151 
 
 following the impulse thus received, though in 
 the first instance from a selfish feeling, gave it- 
 self to the contemplation and discussion of na- 
 tural rights generally, till it became enamoured 
 of abstract justice, and learned to apply its 
 searching test to every subject, especially the 
 all absorbing topic of the day — PoUtical 
 Economy; while, with his characteristic en- 
 thusiasm, despising the sophisms of expediency, 
 he embraced, without perhaps sufficient caution, 
 theories which soon caused him to be con- 
 sidered by his friends a reformer, by his enemies 
 almost a revolutionist, and by himself the warm 
 advocate of the rights, not of younger brothers 
 only, but of those whom he emphatically termed 
 Hie step-children of the laws — The People. 
 
 Such w^ere at all times his opinions, while 
 the irritable state of his mind, at the moment
 
 152 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 of which we are speaking, added asperity to his 
 manner of expressing himself, and caused him, 
 in answer to some jesting remark of Alfred *s 
 on the old topic of younger brothers, to give 
 vent to his feelings in a long, and almost angry 
 political discussion. He objected, he said, to 
 the law of primogeniture on the ground of its 
 being a wretched system of monopoly, which 
 placed in the hands of a simple individual what, 
 if divided, would suffice to restore thousands of 
 his degraded and oppressed fellow-creatures to 
 the rank of humanity. The times were gone 
 by when communities, formed for the general 
 weal, would wilfully sacrifice prospeiity to 
 'pride, and not only parcel out the whole land 
 to, comparatively speaking, a few families, but 
 the succession to those lands being limited to 
 the elder branches, allow all place, preferment.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 153 
 
 and emolument, to be confined to the younger 
 sons of the same famihes, because the land 
 had given them influence; and the mass of 
 the people to be thus reduced to do the work 
 of the ass and the mule, and because they 
 cannot also eat their food, the grass and the 
 thistle, be often in danger of starvation. 
 
 The old feudal system itself was better than 
 this : the ancient baron was at least bound to 
 feed not only his relations but his vassals, and 
 he did so in his own hall, at his own table. 
 While, now-a-days, a man, as soon as his 
 father's funeral is over, turns his brothers 
 and sisters out of doors, to exist as they may, 
 on a pitiful portion, the principal of which is 
 in general infinitely less than one year''s 
 income of the property, on the scale of which 
 they have been accustomed to live in their 
 h3
 
 154 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 father's time; while the new master permits 
 his servants to collect their wages by showing 
 the empty baronial hall to strangers at so much 
 per head, by which creditable means he is 
 himself enabled to reserve all his rents to stake 
 at hazard in London, or at roz/ge et noir in Paris. 
 When parliament is sitting, he must of course 
 attend, to vote against any infringement on 
 his monopoly, which the enHghtened spirit of 
 the times may chance to propose. Thanks, 
 however, to the Reform Bill, the holders of 
 the monopolies are no longer our sole law- 
 givers; we have now some chance of justice one 
 time or another, 
 
 '* Besides," he added, " to return to the 
 ancient baron, he was not only bound to 
 feed his retainers, but in time of war to pro- 
 vide the government with a certain number of
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 155 
 
 them, fitly clothed and armed ; which was vir- 
 tually bearing the burdens of the state. The 
 baron was, in point of fact, but the trustee to a 
 certain property, which property was to feed a 
 certain number of the population, and to con- 
 tribute its due proportion to the defence of the 
 commmiity. Instead of this, when the feudal 
 system becomes dangerous to government the 
 barons are forbidden to arm, and exonei-ated from 
 feeding their retainers; yd, the trust-property 
 left in their hands for pocket-monei/ , while their 
 late followers are not only turned out on the 
 wide world to starve, but the taxes necessary 
 to maintain the army which the barons are 
 forbid to provide, are levied on the hare palms 
 of the hands of the thus turned out and starv- 
 ing vassals ; and not satisfied with this injustice, 
 those who thus keep possession of the trust-
 
 156 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 lands, have arrived at literally billeting their 
 younger sons on those said vassals, thus turned 
 out and starving." 
 
 '' Explain ! explain !" cried Lord Darling- 
 ford, " How can you make that out?'* 
 
 " Are not," replied Henry, " the salaries and 
 pensions of all the posts and sinecures they 
 hold paid by means of taxes, a great pro- 
 portion of which are levied on industry ? Is 
 this as it should be ? If the pride of the great 
 demand that their properties shall be inherited 
 by their elder sons, and the offspring of that 
 pride — i^ false necessity^ require that places and 
 sinecures be provided for their younger sons, 
 should not the rich co-operate in raising a fund 
 for the payment of the salaries of such, and not 
 grind their thousands by pittances from the 
 real necessities of the poor V
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 157 
 
 " What then is your panacea for so many- 
 crying ills?" asked Lord Darhngford, " Do 
 you call on us to render up our trusts and pro- 
 claim an Agrarian law ?" 
 
 " No ; those whose motives are honest dare 
 not go such lengths. This would be to resolve 
 society into its mere elements, to open the flood- 
 gates of anarchy, and awake the savage spirit 
 of wanton plunder. Many large landed pro- 
 perties too have been purchased with the wages 
 of industry ; so that besides the horrible con- 
 vulsions attendant upon the dissolution of the 
 social system, there would be no such thing as 
 drawing the line ; to avoid, therefore, worse 
 evils, I would allow the ^ frightful disparities,' 
 as an able writer of the day terms them, to exist 
 till industry, imchecked, unladen, could work 
 out for itself a gradual emancipation from the
 
 158 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 bondage of want. But I would not add to 
 evils I dare not too suddenly remedy ! I would 
 not require the children of Israel to make 
 bricks without straw ! I would not lay the 
 burdens of the state on shoulders already 
 w^eighed dawn by nature's demand for daily 
 bread. I would exempt from the whole weight 
 of taxation the labourer, whether of brain or 
 limb ; he has no stake in the stabihty of the 
 state -J he can carry his head or his hand where- 
 ever he goes. He who keeps back the hire of 
 the labourer is denounced in holy writ : I would 
 not be worse than such, and rob the labourer of 
 his hire. I would, therefore, repeal every tax 
 direct and indirect j which now exists, and sub- 
 stitute for all a graduated property- tax, on 
 independent property only, trifling in amount, say 
 one per cent., where the property was small ; and
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 159 
 
 doubling, trebling, nay, quadrupling, if necessary, 
 as it rises. What, if a man with thirty thousand 
 per annum, pay twenty thousand, can he not 
 live on ten ? or if the man with two hundred 
 thousand per annum, pay one hundred and fifty 
 thousand, can he not live on fifty ? This, 
 some people are not ashamed to answer me 
 would be robbing the rich ; while they talk as 
 loudly as vaguely of the sacredness of property 
 and vested rights. But I would answer such, 
 that starvation in the midst of plenty, on the 
 plea of the sacredness of justice, is a practical 
 blasphemy ! What, therefore, relief from tax- 
 ation did not effect for the absolutely destitute, 
 1 would complete by an amended system of 
 poor-laws ; — such assessments, however, to be 
 levied on independent property only." 
 
 " Poor-laws are bad things," interrupted Sir
 
 160 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 James, who having finished his luncheon, was 
 now lolling on a sofa, " they make the common 
 people so lazy." 
 
 " As long as industry is not taxed in support 
 of idleness," answered Henry, " the lazy rich 
 man is entitled to no commiseration for being 
 compelled to assist his brother, the lazy poor 
 man ! Poor-laws," he added, turning to Lord 
 Darlingford, " as far at least as food goes, I 
 consider the most sacred of vested rights. 
 God said, ' Behold, I have given you eveiy 
 herb bearing seed which is upon the face of all 
 the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit 
 of a tree yielding seed, to you it shall be for 
 meat.' " 
 
 " But you allow," said his lordship, '^ that 
 many of the great landed properties you would 
 tax thus heavily are purchased with the pro-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. J 61 
 
 duce of the owner's own exertions ; state your 
 reasons for giving immunity to present industry 
 and not to past ?" 
 
 " Because," replied Henry, " when once a 
 man has realized property he has acquired a 
 stake in the country, a stake in the stability of 
 the government ; his property requires pro- 
 tection, w^hether from the foreign enemv or the 
 home depredator; and, therefore, he should 
 pay for such protection. If a man desires a 
 wall round his garden, who pays for building 
 the wall? The man who owns the garden! 
 If a man wishes to insure his premises against 
 fire, who pays the insurance ? The man whose 
 premises are gumnteed. Would either of these 
 persons dream of caUing a parish meeting to 
 demand of their neighbours as a right, that they 
 should suscribe towards the expense so incurred ;
 
 162 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 nay, that every pauper subsisting on some shil- 
 ling or two per week, should be compelled to 
 pay two-pence for his penny loaf until the sum 
 was made up ; yet, such is the spirit of every 
 tax, direct or indirect, levied on any thing but 
 independent property. The machinery of go- 
 vernment is the garden-wall of the landed 
 interest, the insurance office of the fund-holder. 
 Any tax, therefore, levied on those who have 
 neither land nor money is a crying injustice, 
 except, indeed," he added with bitter irony, 
 " we admit of a small pole-tax to keep down 
 burking. It is, no doubt, the houseless, name- 
 less, friendless wretch, who has no one to ask 
 what is become of him ; the poor creature, who 
 has nothing to be protected but the limbs and 
 sinews he was bom with, who runs the greatest risk 
 of contributing these to the promotion of science."
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 163 
 
 " But," observed Lord Darlingford, " it is not 
 the very destitute who pay taxes.'' 
 
 " I beg your pardon/' said Henry, " indirect 
 ones they do. If the beggar in the street suc- 
 ceeds in exciting the compassion of the pas- 
 senger, and receives one penny, ere he can ap- 
 pease his hunger with a mouthful of bread, do 
 not the com laws, by doubling the price of the 
 loaf, exact from him one half of the penny so 
 obtained ? And is not his mite, thus cast into 
 the treasury, like that of the poor widow in the 
 Gospel, taken from his want; and, therefore, 
 more than all they {the rich) did cast in of their 
 abundance?" 
 
 " Oh, it is all but too true !" said Lady Arden, 
 feelingly. " I do think your scheme of taxation 
 would be but justice. Willoughby would cer- 
 tainly have a great deal to pay ; but he can
 
 164 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 surely afford it better than poor creatures who 
 have nothing but what they earn, or what they 
 beg. I see the subject now in quite a new 
 hght. I have always been in the habit of think- 
 ing people pooj' who had but one or two thou- 
 sands a-year ; and I never took the trouble of 
 considering that there was any difference be- 
 tween hundreds a-year and nothing." 
 
 " How would you apportion this property-tax 
 of yours ?"" asked Lord Darlingford ; " and how 
 ensure its being sufficient for the exigencies of 
 the state ?'** 
 
 " On a graduated scale, as I have already 
 said," replied Henry, "from justice to indi- 
 viduals : let those who have the largest property 
 to ensure, pay, as at all other insurance offices, 
 the most ; but, as to details and calculations, I 
 leave those to Mr. Hume, or some of the multi-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 165 
 
 plication table people ; I only advocate the prin- 
 ciple. Indeed, one of the great recommendations 
 of this plan is, that the principle once established, 
 the work is done: when those who tie up the bur- 
 dens have to carry them, they may be trusted to 
 find scales of sufficient nicety in which to weigh 
 them : we need, in that case, no longer call for 
 estimates, or petition against sinecures ; nay, we 
 may give the very voting of the subsidies to the 
 Lords themselves ! — many of whom, I make no 
 doubt, would forthwith become immortalised by 
 the economical or ' twopeimij halfpenny' inge- 
 nuity, developed in the devising of future 
 budgets. ^ Twopence halfpenni/y 1 would have 
 the noble lords to know, though no object to 
 them, is a sum which many of their destitute 
 fellows-creatures w^ould, at this moment, receive 
 with joy of heart ! Then, remember, in further
 
 166 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 recommendation of this scheme, the millions a- 
 year of unprofitable expense that would be saved 
 to the nation, by having but one instead of in- 
 numerable taxes to levy.'* 
 
 " I don't think," said Sir James, looking as if 
 he had made a discovery, " that the people with 
 large fortunes will like this law of yours, Hemy." 
 
 " Many people, too," replied Henry, contemp- 
 tuously, " don't like paying their Christmas 
 bills." 
 
 Alfred, who had been looking over a morning 
 paper near a window, and from time to time 
 lending a share of his attention to the disput- 
 ants, now joined them. 
 
 "We cannot, I think," he said, "blame any 
 particular government, or set of men, for the 
 ills of which you complain. The fault is in 
 human nature ; and the remedy, if there be one,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDK. 167 
 
 is only to be found in laying step by step the 
 wisest general restrictions we can on individual 
 selfishness. The advance of civilization has 
 already placed a salutary check on plunder by 
 force ; it remains for the march of intellect to 
 discover one for plunder by stratagem. But we 
 must be cautious ; in desiring the higher steps 
 of the ladder of wisdom and virtue, we must not 
 undervalue those we have attained, and m our 
 headlong haste, stumble ; and, like our neigh- 
 bours of the continent, fall back on the frightful 
 abyss of anarchy that lays below ! Tis well to 
 rise in excellence ; I hate the cant of dreading 
 all chance : but, to keep to the simile of the lad- 
 der, let us take care that the lifting foot be 
 firmly placed on the step above, ere the standing 
 one be removed from the step below.*' 
 
 " Is there not some danger,'" said Lord Dar-
 
 168 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 lingford, " of a property-tax sending capital out 
 of the kingdom V 
 
 " It must be very easy/' replied Henry, " for 
 the inventors of all sorts of protecting duties to 
 devise a means of meeting that difficulty, by 
 some ingeniously arranged tax on the exporta- 
 tion of property, whether income or capital, with 
 a tremendously deterring fine on any attempt at 
 imposition ; and minor exactments, to hunt eva- 
 sion through all its windings. There might, 
 also," he added, " be an alien tax, to prevent 
 the foreign artizan from sharing the immunity 
 from taxation, purchased by our own rich for 
 our own poor." 
 
 " Is there not some danger," said Lady Arden, 
 " that the deteriorated incomes of the great, by 
 obliging them to lessen their establishments and 
 expenditure, would throw many people out of
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 169 
 
 employment, and so increase the numbers of the 
 poor ?" 
 
 " I should think not," answered Henry ; " re- 
 collect there would be the same property in the 
 kingdom, only in more general and more equal 
 circulation. The servants dismissed, and the 
 luxuries foregone by the few, would in all pro- 
 bability be more than compensated by the 
 increased establishments and more numerous 
 comforts of the many, though each only in a 
 small degree. The standard of splendour might 
 be lowered, but that of comfort would be raised. 
 The change, too, is likely to be in favour of 
 home productions : the overflow of inordinate 
 wealth, the too much of the few, is frequently 
 squandered on luxuries obtained from abroad ; 
 while the fertilizing sufficiency, the enough of 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 DILEMMAS OF PllIDE. 
 
 the many, would probably be expended on com- 
 forts produced at home. 
 
 ''I do not, however," he added, "mean to 
 assume the character of a prophet, or even to 
 argue the point of future consequences ; I take 
 higher ground, and end every such discussion 
 with the same appeal to duty : 
 
 '^ Let each generation do what is clearly jus- 
 tice in their own day, and leave the future to the 
 All-wise Disposer of events. 
 
 " If there were, indeed, a theory through the 
 mazes of which moral rectitude knew no path, 
 we might be excusable in taking calculation for 
 our guide ; but when our road lies before us, in- 
 dicated by duty's steadily pointing finger, we are 
 not entitled to [balance ere we proceed, even 
 though it should be where four frequented 
 highways meet.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 171 
 
 Mrs. Dorothea, the sisters, and Sir James, had 
 got tired of politics, and wandered into the gar- 
 den. Henry, perceiving that Sir James was still 
 in attendance on Louisa, became impatient, 
 broke off the conversation abruptly, and follow- 
 ing them, joined her, saying, " Lord Darlingford 
 is too prudent a politician for me. I hate pru- 
 dence and calculation, and worldly mindedness," 
 he added, with impetuosity, and a provoked 
 and mortified tone of voice, which Louisa was 
 at no loss to comprehend. " The present arti- 
 ficial state of society," he proceeded, " has ba- 
 nished into the poet's dream every thing worth 
 livins: for ! — there alone all thino;s deservino: 
 the ambition of an intellectual being now hold 
 their unreal existence ! Beauty has become a 
 snare — feeling a folly, or a curse ! — love a farce, 
 and lovely woman, *' nature's most cunning 
 i2
 
 172 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 workmanship, a toy, a trinket, which the rich 
 man may draw out his purse and purchase ! ! ! — 
 heart and all !'' he subjoined, in an under and 
 somewhat softened voice, for Louisa had looked 
 round, and their eyes had met for a moment. 
 " Is it so ?" he continued ; " or are the beautiful 
 looking deceptions now made to suit the market 
 for which they are intended, ivithout hearts ?"
 
 173 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Whether Alfred's study was pamphlet, 
 newspaper, or magazine, he could never contrive 
 to discern the print by any light but that of the 
 window-, or rather glass door, at which we left 
 him standing on the morning on which he first 
 discerned the fleeting semblance of a fair vision 
 in the adjoining garden^ The glass door was 
 generally half open, a mushn blind drawn half 
 down across it, and the eyes of the student, like 
 those of the naughty child in the pictures of 
 bold Harry, just visible over the top of his book.
 
 174 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 On such occasions one of his sisters would 
 often ghde behind him, and starthng him with a 
 loud burlesque sigh, exclaim, " She is not there 
 to-day." " Nonsense !" Alfred would say, 
 rising. " This is a very well written thing," 
 he added one morning, throwing his book on a 
 table. 
 
 " What is it about, Alfred V asked Madeline 
 archly. He took up the book again to examine 
 it before he could answer the question ; '' I de- 
 clare he can't tell," she cried, " without looking 
 at the top of the pagej" a geneml burst of 
 laughter followed, from which Alfred escaped 
 into the garden. He had long since made it his 
 business to ascertain that Lady Palliser and her 
 daughter inhabited the next villa ; but few, very 
 few indeed, and '^ far between," had been the 
 glimpses of his beauteous enslaver which his late
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 175 
 
 studious habits and love of good light had pro» 
 cured for him. 
 
 Lady Caroline appeared to be conscious that 
 the garden was exposed to the \dew of their 
 neighbours, and was therefore timid about en- 
 tering it; or, when she did so, as on the first 
 occasion noticed, it was only to pluck a flower, 
 for she seemed fearful of remaining in it for 
 a moment. This morning, however, both mother 
 and daughter had appeared on the lawn and 
 with bomiets on, which, combined vriih the 
 early hour, had caused Alfred to suspect 
 them of an intention of visiting the walks; 
 and his consequent anticipations of a possible 
 meeting, had, we must confess, made him rather 
 absent. 
 
 He now called in at the window to his sisters 
 to know if they were not yet ready, assuring
 
 176 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 them that the band had played several tunes, 
 and that they would be late. 
 
 " Don't you know that the Duke of Gloucester 
 has arrived ?" he continued, " did you not hear 
 the joy bells yesterday evening ? He is so punc- 
 tual to seven, that the fashionables are always 
 early when he is here." 
 
 This remonstrance had the desired effect; 
 final arrangements were quickly completed and 
 the party set forth. 
 
 On entering the Montpelier walk, Alfred be- 
 held, quite near and coming towards them, Lady 
 Paliiser and her daughter, in company with the 
 duke, and attended by two or three of his 
 grace's aides-de-camp. 
 
 Alfred saw that Lady Caroline perceived and 
 recognized him, for she coloured instantly, but 
 looked as if she did not know whether she
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 177 
 
 ought to acknowledge him or not ; while he was 
 so much startled and confounded, that he had 
 not presence of mind to look for a recognition. 
 Lady Palliser happened to be conversing "with 
 his grace, and did not see him. He passed, 
 therefore, unacknowledged by either lady. 
 
 The next turn, the next and the next again, 
 he was determined to manage matters better, 
 and accordingly kept a regular look out for 
 the duke's party, but they were nowhere to be 
 seen ; it was evident they had been going oft" 
 the w^alk at the time he met them. 
 
 How dull the whole gay scene became the 
 moment this conviction reached him ! How irk- 
 some the frivolity of every body's manner ; 
 while all the world, seeming to have made the 
 discovery simultaneously with himself, kept 
 telling each other as they passed that the duke 
 i3
 
 178 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 was gone, just as if it was done on purpose to 
 torment him. 
 
 In vain did Miss Salter, every time he en- 
 countered the party, address Lady Flamborough 
 by her title, in an unnecessarily loud tone, to 
 endeavour to draw his attention by showing him 
 what exalted company she was in. Every effort 
 was thrown away upon him, as well as all the 
 extra finery sported this day on purpose for the 
 duke. Little did his grace think how many 
 husbands and fathers he had caused to grumble. 
 As for poor Lady Whaleworthy, in her loyal zeal 
 to make herself fit company for royalty, she 
 actually crowned herself with the gold tissue 
 turban which she wore at Mr. Salter's dinner; so 
 that with this and her everlasting crimson velvet 
 pelisse, to which she had added a gold waist- 
 band for the occasion, she was altogether as
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDEe 179 
 
 fine as the hammer cloth of a lord mayor's 
 coach. 
 
 Lady Flamborough trusted more to her na- 
 tural attractions ; these she displayed for the 
 great occasion with a liberality which certanily 
 did succeed in calhng forth a remark from his 
 grace, though by no means a complimentary 
 one. 
 
 The new bonnets sported this morning would 
 require the calculating boy to comit them ; and 
 as for shoes, many a simple-hearted girl fresh 
 from the country, submitted to hours of actual 
 torture, in order that the Duke of Gloucester 
 might go back to London convinced that she 
 had very small feet.
 
 180 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The next morning Alfred was on his guard, 
 and watched the first approaches of the duke's 
 party with a palpitating heart. 
 
 But, alas ! Lady Palliser, as before, was oc- 
 cupied and saw him not ; while, what was much 
 worse, it was evident that Lady Caroline did see 
 him at a distance, and from that moment kept 
 her eyes fixed on the ground. They passed each 
 other, and he could discern the glow of con- 
 sciousness steal over her cheek as they did so. 
 Again and again they passed — still \\ithout
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 181 
 
 recognition ; till at length he scarcely ventured 
 to look that way. Lord Daiiingford now ap- 
 peared. He attached himself to Lady Arden*s 
 party — Jane in particular. After a turn or two, 
 he apologised for quitting them, saying he must 
 go and speak to Lady Palliser. Alfred, forming 
 a sudden and desperate resolve, at which he 
 often afterwards looked back with astonishment, 
 took his lordship's arm, and accompanied liim. 
 The duke had just quitted the walk, and Lady 
 Palliser, quite dtsceuvree, happened at the 
 moment to be in what she called a humour 
 for being spoken to. She received, therefore, 
 not only Lord Darlingford but Alfred \^-ith the 
 utmost graciousness. Caroline, after a timid 
 glance at her mother's countenance, looked round 
 and recooiiised our hero with a smile that 
 seemed to open to him in an instant the gates
 
 182 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 of Paradise, JN^ay, the Montpelier walk itself 
 became, as by a sudden revelation, the very gar- 
 den of Eden to his delighted eyes. He was 
 walking next to Caroline — ^he did not know how 
 he had got there ! He was speaking to her — ^he 
 did not know what he was saying ! Her coun- 
 tenance was turned towards him to reply, while 
 the close bonnet which, while it was so turned, 
 hid its loveliness from every eye. It was a slight 
 summer one of simple snowy sarcenet, and though 
 it warded off the glare of the out-door sun-beam, 
 it admitted through its half transparent texture a 
 heavenly kind of light, which at once accurately 
 defined, and seemed a fitting shrine for the per- 
 fectly angelic features around which it dwelt : 
 the pure lively red of the lovely moving lip, 
 where all else was so white ; the smile of enchant- 
 ment, exposing to view the pearly teeth ; the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PPvIDE. 183 
 
 delicately pencilled brow ; the large dark eyes, 
 which yet were so soft, so modestly raised, so 
 meek in. their expression, that their very lustre 
 seemed that of compassion's tear ere it o'ei*flows 
 the lid ! Yet did their mild beams make such 
 an unmerciful jumble of all Alfred's ideas, that 
 he was quite sure he must be talking nonsense. 
 But there was no help for it ; if he spoke not, he 
 saw but the fluted outside of the white sarcenet 
 bonnet; it was necessary to make ceaseless ap- 
 peals to Caroline's attention, or the graceful 
 head would not be turned towards him ; the 
 lovely eyes would not be raised to his, the 
 beauteous lips, fresh as rose leaves moist with 
 morning dew, would not be parted in reply ; to 
 purchase dehghts such as these he was com- 
 pelled to risk his reputation as a sage, and go on 
 without an effort to think. At length, however
 
 184 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 he came to an unlucky pause, and instead of 
 j umping over it, unfortunately began to weigh 
 what subject he should next propound. But, 
 alas ! the precious moments flew past in rapid 
 succession, and, one after another, became ab- 
 sorbed in the gulph of eternity, while our poor 
 hero was still at a stand. 
 
 And now strange uneasy sensations began to 
 blend with the dream-like felicity he had hitherto 
 enjoyed, though he was not yet awake to the 
 cause, wliich was simply this : the band was 
 playing that well known note of dismissal — ^the 
 national anthem — and anticipations of approach- 
 ing separation began to steal over his senses. 
 To his surprise and infinite delight, however, 
 Lady Palliser suddenly asked Lord Darlingford 
 and himself, with the prettiest and most peti- 
 tioning manner possible, to go home with her
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 185 
 
 party to breakfast. We need scarcely say that 
 Alfred consented; so did Lord Darlingford, 
 though not quite so willingly, for he had in- 
 tended to return to Lady Arden's party. 
 
 After this morning, Alfred not only joined his 
 new friends whenever they appeared, but be 
 came in a short time almost a daily visitor at 
 Jessamine bower; and apparently with the entire 
 approbation of Lady Palliser, Indeed, it was 
 in general some message or some commission of 
 her ladyship's, or some allusion to the morrow 
 made at parting, almost amounting to an appoint- 
 ment, which furnished him with an excuse for 
 calling. He, poor fellow, was flattered, de- 
 lighted, filled with hope and joy! But, alas! 
 he was not sufficiently acquainted with the 
 character of Lady Palliser to understand his 
 own position. Her ladyship was a being with-
 
 186 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 out affections and without occupation ; who in 
 her intercourse with others, and from total heart- 
 lessness, cared not whose best feelings were 
 the springs of the puppet-show, so the move- 
 ments of the puppets amused her — and he hap- 
 pened to be the whim of the hour ; — to order 
 him about, to see him perfectly at her disposal, 
 chanced to be what, just then, afforded a species 
 of excitement to her restless idleness and morbid 
 selfishness.
 
 187 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Meanwhile much of Caroline's excessive 
 reserve, or rather fearfulness of maimer wore 
 off. In her mother's immediate presence in- 
 deed she was ever the same ; but if Lady Pal- 
 liser quitted the room for a moment, or was 
 occupied conversing with some other visitor, 
 Caroline's countenance would brighten, and her 
 manner become comparatively easy and happy. 
 Fully, however, to comprehend our heroine, it 
 will be necessary to cast a retrospective glance 
 over the manner of her education.
 
 188 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 The most painful silence of the heart and all 
 its best affections had from infancy been ha- 
 bitual to Carohne. She was an only child, and 
 had no recollection of her father; while her 
 mother's strange, unfeeling character, had made 
 her from the very first shrink within herself. 
 When arrived at an age at which young people, 
 not self-opinionated, naturally wish to ask those 
 older than themselves what they ought to do on 
 various little occasions, which seem to them 
 important from their novelty, poor Caroline 
 would sometimes, in what she deemed a 
 case of urgency, make a great effort and apply 
 to her mother, on which Lady Palliser would 
 treat her simplicity as the best of good jokes, 
 laugh to excess, then rally her for blushing, 
 and next perhaps for shedding tears; and, 
 finally, either leave her question without reply,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 189 
 
 or give one turning the subject into abso- 
 lute ridicule ; till at last Caroline learned to 
 feel a terror surpassing description of ha\-ing 
 any one thought, feeling, or opinion even 
 guessed at by her mother. Yet her mother was 
 her only companion. There was also a strange 
 inconsistency in the character and conduct of 
 Lady Palliser ; for while she never condescended 
 to advise, she was tyrannical in her commands, 
 exacting implicit, unquestioned, instantaneous 
 obedience to every whim. 
 
 Either there was something in the thorough 
 kindliness of Alfred's disposition which ap- 
 peared in his manner, and secretly won the 
 confidence of our heroine; or fate had or- 
 dained that they were to love each other. 
 Whatever the cause, the consequence was, 
 that Caroline, after the intimacy we have
 
 190 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 described had subsisted for some weeks, no 
 longer felt alone in the world — she was no 
 longer without thoughts that gave her pleasure ; 
 while those thoughts, though for their ostensible 
 object they had a walk, a song, a book, or a 
 flower, were always associated with the idea of 
 Alfred — of something that he had said — or some 
 little kind service he had performed — or, per- 
 haps, some chance encounter of his eye— or the 
 consciousness of his fixed gaze, felt without daring 
 to look up, and which, though it had produced 
 strange confusion of ideas at the time, was re- 
 membered with delight. Neither was she any 
 longer without hope, though but a hope that 
 they might meet on the walks, or that he 
 might come in about something she had heard 
 her mother mention to him. 
 
 It may be asked why should Caroline not al-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 191 
 
 ways have had the hopes with which most 
 young people enter life ; merely because the 
 buoyancy of youth had been pressed down, and 
 the elasticity of its spirits destroyed, by the un- 
 natural restraint under which every thought and 
 feeling had been held during the period that her 
 earliest affections had, as is generally the case, 
 endeavoured to fix themselves on her parent. 
 
 As for Alfred, he had misgivings certainly, 
 respecting his being a younger brother, and his 
 consequent want of fortune. At the same time, 
 when he felt that he was i ustified in harbourino- 
 
 J o 
 
 the restless, delightful hope, that he was already 
 not quite indifferent to Caroline, and that he 
 received such decided encouragement as he 
 did from her mother, what could he think, 
 but that he was the most fortunate fellow in ex- 
 istence, and that he had met with the most
 
 192 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 generous, liberal minded, delightful people in 
 the whole world ! 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, he would take a fastidious 
 fit, and murmur a little in his heart against fate, 
 for compelling him to be the one to receive, 
 and denying him the pride and pleasure of be- 
 stowing ; but so absorbing was his passion 
 for Caroline, that he soon closed his eyes 
 against this objection, almost as absolutely as 
 he would have done against the contrary had it 
 existed. He was incapable, in short, at the time, 
 of weighing any subject deliberately: a look, a 
 smile, or the unbidden brightening of Caroline's 
 countenance when they met, would have been 
 sufficient to have upset the firmest resolves, had 
 he even been visited by a lucid interval in which 
 to have formed them ; but on the contrary, from 
 the first morning he had been so unexpectedly
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 193 
 
 invited home by Lady Palliser, his head had 
 become giddy with rapture ; the pulsations of his 
 heart had never settled down to their steady 
 original pace, nor had any one thought or feel- 
 ing ever once been summoned before the bar of 
 reason. That it must be a faii-y tale — a dream — 
 too much happiness to be true, would sometimes 
 cross his imagination for a moment, and strike 
 his heart with a sort of panic ; but such 
 thoughts not being agreeable enough to meet 
 with a w^elcome within, were therefore quickly 
 dismissed. 
 
 Whenever he was neither at Ladv Palliser's 
 nor at his old post at the window, he w^as wan- 
 dering in some unfrequented walk, or reclining 
 listlessly on a remote sofa in a deep reverie, 
 calling to mind looks, smiles, or half uttered re- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 plies, from which, while they said nothing, every 
 thing might be inferred. 
 
 He studied and learned to comprehend as a 
 language hitherto unknown, the timid, shrink- 
 ing, as yet undeveloped character of Caroline. 
 To him her very silence now conveyed more than 
 the eloquence of others ; and however long he 
 watched the downcast lid, if it was raised at 
 last but for a second, he was amply rewarded. 
 
 And when he repaired to Jessamine Bower, 
 to pay his now daily morning visit, and on en- 
 tering addressed Lady Palliser first, as he made 
 a point of doing, he literally trembled with con- 
 cealed emotion as he noted the slight tinge, 
 faint as the reflection from a rose leaf, steal over 
 Caroline's delicate cheek, while she continued 
 to bend over her employment, whatever it might 
 be, and acting her part unnecessarily well, en-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 195 
 
 deavoured to betray no consciousness of his pre- 
 sence, till her attention was absolutely claimed 
 by some such formal address as — 
 
 "How is Lady Caroline this morning?" 
 Formal as were the words, the tone of the voice 
 was sufficient. The faint tinge would increase 
 to a deep blush, ere the equally formed reply 
 was articulated. On many occasions, Alfred 
 would continue to converse with Lady Palliser, 
 or perform any of her frivolous and whimsical 
 commands, and nothing more apparently would 
 pass between the young people ; yet would he, 
 the while, trace in shght vacations of counte- 
 nance, imperceptible to any other eye, all that 
 Caroline thought or felt with regard to what was 
 said. Sometimes Lady Palhser herself would 
 suddenly fling down her netting or knotting, or 
 k2
 
 196 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 whatever nonsense she was about, with an ex- 
 pression of disgust, declare she was sick of it, 
 and ordering Alfred to look for her pet book of 
 Itahan Trios, and Caroline to put away her draw- 
 ing and join them^ seat herself at the instrument. 
 This to Caroline and Alfred was a wonderful 
 improvement of position. Standing together 
 behind Lady Palliser's chair, their voices 
 united in the thrilling harmonies of the music, 
 and sometimes in the utterance of words ex- 
 pressive of thoughts, which else one at least of 
 the voices had never dared to pronounce. On 
 one of these favourable occasions a circumstance 
 occurred, trivial in the extreme, yet which for- 
 warded Alfred's cause amazingly, and indeed 
 conveyed to both a tacit conviction of each 
 other's attachment.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 197 
 
 A hand of each while they sang rested on the 
 back of Lady PaHiser's chair, and after a simul- 
 taneous attempt to turn over the leaf of the 
 music-book, accidentally came in contact as they 
 returned to their former position. It had been 
 long ere a modest younger brother, like our poor 
 hero, had found courage to possess himself 
 by [any direct means of the fair, soft, taper 
 fingered, rosy palmed, little hand, of the 
 great heiress, the beautiful Lady Caroline 
 Montague ; but an occasion like this was not 
 to be resisted ; Alfred's tremblino; fin2;ers closed 
 upon the fond treasure ; while a hasty but faint 
 effort of Caroline's to withdraw it, was met by 
 a beseeching look that seemed to have the de- 
 sired effect ; for, though covered with blushes, 
 she did not immediately succeed in disengaging 
 the hand, while the little scene was at the
 
 198 
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 moment supplied by the duet with appropriate 
 words 
 
 ^E^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 m 
 
 ■■^^ 
 
 fcttzt 
 
 #-*- 
 
 fH*-^- 
 
 Langue il mio c o- re per te d'a-mo-re. 
 
 Sang Alfred, while Caroline in faltering notes 
 replied 
 
 ^— ^- 
 
 m—^- 
 
 f—P 
 
 ^ 
 
 IVii^ 
 
 -5^!-^ 
 
 Non Eo re - sis - te - re. 
 
 "When our hero had taken his departure 
 Caroline hastened to her own apartment. She 
 felt unfit for any society, particularly her 
 mother's. 
 
 Her pure unpractised delicacy of mind caused
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 199 
 
 her to look back on the incident which had 
 just passed as an event of the utmost im- 
 portance; as, in short, not only a proposal, 
 but also an acceptance. Nay, had she 
 wished it, she would no longer have thought 
 herself at hberty to retract; for she knew 
 that she would not have allowed a man 
 who was indifferent to her to have retained 
 her hand in his for a single second. That she 
 had permitted Alfred then to do so, she felt 
 amounted to a confession of preference ! Deep 
 was the blush which accompanied this 
 thought. 
 
 At other times Lady Palliser would be ex- 
 travagantly late in the morning ; and, if con- 
 sequently not in the drawing-room when our 
 hero called, she would send word that Mr, 
 Arden was not to go away till she came down ;
 
 200 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 and then so whimsical were all her movements, 
 not perhaps make her appearance for an hour, 
 or possibly two. Those were the occasions on 
 which Alfred best succeeded in drawing Caroline 
 into easy and familiar conversation, and thus 
 inducing in her a feeling of confidence towards 
 himself, which a young creature who had been 
 blessed with any friend in her own family, 
 would not have thought of mingling with her 
 love for a lover : but the affection poor Caroline 
 was beginning to feel towards Alfred was not 
 only her First Love, but it was also the first 
 friendship her heart had ever been encouraged 
 to know. Thus it was, that to a being hitherto 
 so totally alone in the world, he became in so 
 short a time eveiy thing. While the idea, 
 however vaguely entertained, of being at some 
 period of the future of existence protected by
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 201 
 
 his affection from every harshness — sheltered by 
 his tenderness from every sorrow, had almost 
 unconsciously became the hope, the home, the 
 resting place of all her anticipations. 
 
 k3
 
 202 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ''But how are you to ask us to the wedding, 
 Alfred, considering we don't even visit?" said 
 Louisa one morning to her brother, who stood 
 as usual at the window, but now without even 
 the pretext of a book. 
 
 '' Nonsense, Louisa !" he replied. " Wedding, 
 indeed ! I wish it were come to that ! and it 
 would be easy to arrange the visiting. By-the- 
 by, ma'am," he added, turning to his mother, 
 "independent of Louisa's jesting, I wish we did 
 visit."
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 203 
 
 "So do I, my dear/' replied Lady Arden, 
 but Lady Palliser, of the two, was here rather 
 before I was ; besides she is a person of the 
 highest rank, so that I think the first advances 
 ought to come from her. They say too, her 
 ladyship is going to give a great fancy ball, and 
 it would look as if I wanted to have the o'irls 
 asked. However, I should suppose we must 
 visit soon, one way or other; for Louisa's jesting 
 as you call it, appears to me to go on in as 
 serious a manner as you could desire." 
 
 '^ Oh — I — a — don't know, ma'am," said Al- 
 fred, colouring, and pulling off and on an un- 
 fortunate glove, which seemed destined to be 
 martyred in the cause. 
 
 "Why certainly," persisted Lady Arden, 
 " neither Lady Caroline, nor her mother for her, 
 would be justified in receiving either your public
 
 204 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 attentions or your daily visits in the manner they 
 do, if they meant to make the only objection 
 wliich could be made to you — ^your being a 
 younger son." 
 
 *^ Well — I hope you may be right, ma'am ; " 
 said Alfred, laughing, and escaping into the 
 garden to hide his confusion. 
 
 " He will be a fortunate young man if he 
 gets Lady Caroline Montague," said Aunt 
 Dorothea. 
 
 *^ Not more fortunate than he deserves, Mrs. 
 Dorothea," replied Lady Arden, " for he is the 
 best creature in the world, as well as the hand- 
 somest and the most agreeable." 
 
 " No one can be more sensible of my nephew's 
 merits than I am," said Mrs. Dorothea; "but I 
 still maintain that few, even of the few who de- 
 serve- as well, are as fortunate. Lady Caroline
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 205 
 
 Montague, I understand, inherits the whole of 
 the family estates, and her son, should she have 
 one, will I suppose have the title." 
 
 " Why, no doubt she could command any 
 match," replied Lady Arden ; " 'tis however a 
 most fortimate circumstance that Lady Palliser 
 has the good sense to see the advantage of her 
 daughter marr^dng so thoroughly amiable a 
 young man, who will make her so truly 
 happy." 
 
 " Talking of happiness," said Mrs. Dorothea, 
 *'l hope poor Jane may be happy with Lord 
 Darlingford." 
 
 " I trust she will," replied Lady Arden, with 
 a half suppressed sigh ; " and in point both of 
 rank and fortune you know it is a most desirable 
 match." 
 
 "Xo doubt of it," rejoined Mrs. Dorothea,
 
 206 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 *' and people are very foolish who neglect such 
 serious considerations, and allow their time to 
 glide by them. Were I, at this moment, as I 
 might have been but for my own folly. Countess 
 Dowager of Ravenscroft ;" and here Mrs. Do- 
 rothea drew up her head with great stiffness, 
 " such people as the Salters would never have 
 had it in their power to insult me ; nor should I 
 have been in danger of losing my life by being 
 baked to death in that horrid lodging. To be 
 sure the carpet looked respectable, and that was 
 all it had to recommend it.'' 
 
 " By-the-by," said her ladyship, *^ I have 
 often wondered, Mrs. Arden, how you, who have 
 in general a very proper sense of your own 
 dignity, came to make the acquaintance of 
 such people as those Salts, was it you called 
 them?"
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 207 
 
 *'Your ladyship's remark is very just," re- 
 plied Mrs. Dorothea, " but the old fiiend from 
 whom they brought me a letter, is a highly re- 
 spectable' and gentlemanly man, and I was not 
 aware till lately that he had only made their 
 acquaintance himself casually at a boarding- 
 house, where it seems they persecuted him with 
 attentions, and then worried him for a letter to 
 some one at Cheltenham, where they said they 
 were going perfect strangers. He was afraid to 
 enter into those particulars in the note he sent 
 by them, lest they should contrive to open and 
 read it : and the letter he since wrote me to 
 say how little he himself knew of them, and to 
 apologize for the liberty he had taken, by ex- 
 plaining that they made such a point of his 
 giving them a line to some friend, that he did 
 not know how to refuse, was unfortunately de-
 
 208 
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 layed, waiting for a frank (he knows I don't like 
 postages), till with my usual silly goodnature 
 I had taken a great deal of trouble about those 
 worthless people. Their vulgarity too disgusted 
 me all the time ; yet they so overwhelmed me 
 with their thanks, their gratitude, as they called 
 it, that I literally did not know how to shake 
 them off." 
 
 "Really my dear madam," said Lady Arden, 
 " you are quite too goodnatured." 
 
 " That has always been my weak point,'** re- 
 plied Mrs. Dorothea : " when I see that it is in 
 my power to serve people, I am fool enough 
 to fancy that alone gives them a claim upon 
 me." 
 
 And such was really the case, for poor Mrs. 
 Dorothea, though she had been all her life 
 threatening to grow wise, in other words selfish.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 209 
 
 had never yet attained to any degree of pro- 
 ficiency in this art of self-defence^ if we may so 
 term it. Too o-reat 2:oodnature ^Yas indeed her 
 only apology for bemg still at fifty-five^ what 
 people of the world emphatically call young ! 
 For she had not been all her days blinded by 
 the dazzling sunshine of unclouded prosperity ; 
 on the contraiy, her horizon had been frequently 
 overshadowed by those unfavourable changes, 
 from wliich, as variableness of weather teaches 
 the sailor seamanship, knowledge of the world is 
 in general collected. 
 
 " But we were speaking of Jane/' proceeded 
 Mrs. Dorothea, " I have not the least doubt of 
 my niece's good sense. Indeed Jane is a sweet 
 girl, as amiable as sensible. I was only afraid 
 that Lord Darlingford had rather a jealous 
 temper."
 
 210 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 "I hope not!" lier ladyship replied, again 
 sighing, " and you know, my dear Mrs. Arden, 
 the impossibility of having every thing one's own 
 way in this w^orld. The connection, establish- 
 ment, and all that, are in the highest degree 
 desirable. And then between ourselves, Lord 
 Nelthorpe has not behaved very well to poor 
 Jane." 
 
 " In that respect, it is so far fortunate," said 
 Mrs. Dorothea, " that she is now making a still 
 higher connection. And then Sir James, with 
 his fifteen thousand per annum, will certainly be 
 a splendid match for Louisa ; but she must mind 
 what she is about, and not laugh at him as she 
 liow does after they are married." 
 
 "Of course she will have too much good sense 
 for that," replied Lady Arden; but her eyes 
 filled with silent tears as she thought of the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 211 
 
 infinite sacrifice Louisa would makC; if she did 
 indeed marry Sir James. 
 
 The three sisters had followed Alfred into the 
 garden, and were collectiug flowers to supply 
 the vases in the drawing-room, and laughing in 
 their usual light-hearted way, if but a blossom 
 fell to the ground instead of into the basket 
 held out to catch it. Caroline the while was 
 standing in her mother's drawing-room, behind 
 a Venetian blind, through which unseen she was 
 observing their movements, and envying their 
 happiness, which to her a}:)peared to be satisfac- 
 torily accounted for by Alfred's being their 
 brother. How fervently did she \\ish at the 
 moment that she too were his sister, were it but 
 that she might be privileged to go out and join 
 the cheerful gTOup, on which she thus \^-istfully 
 gazed.
 
 212 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 With her sohtary musing, however, a thrill 
 pleasure mingled, when from time to time she 
 saw Alfred steal a glance of interest at the very- 
 window where she stood ; and which, from the 
 blind being down, he suspected was occupied by 
 Caroline. 
 
 The Arden girls, at the moment, were all oc- 
 cupied plucking blossoms from various parts of 
 a long trailing branch of woodbine, which as 
 it hung from above their heads, it cost them an 
 effort to reach. 
 
 "Look, look ! Caroline," cried Lady Palliser, 
 who was standing at another w^indow, "how like 
 they are to the drawings of the graces. I must 
 go and see Lady Arden directly, and send them 
 all cards; for I am determined to have those 
 three nice girls to do the graces at my fancy 
 bail."
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Out of this mere whim of Lady PaUiser's 
 arose a visiting acquaintance with the Ardens. 
 
 Alfred and Caroline were, therefore, more 
 than ever together, a consequence which Lady 
 Palliser made no effort w^hatever to prevent. 
 The fact w^as that her ladyship was in the habit 
 of considering Caroline, who was but seventeen, 
 a mere child ; while her own excessive vanity, 
 and Alfred's unremitting efforts to make himself 
 agreeable to her for Caroline's sake, had com- 
 pletely deceived her into a belief that he v;as 
 under the dominion of one of those absurd boy 
 passions, which veiy young men sometimes con- 
 ceive for women much older than themselves ; 
 particularly if they happened to be, as her lady- 
 ship well knew she was, still extremely beauti- 
 ful. And though Lady Palliser was too proud 
 and too cold to have the most remote idea of
 
 214 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 making a fool of herself, she looked forward to 
 seeing our hero in despair at her feet as to the 
 denouement of an excellent jest ; while in the 
 meantime she amused herself by drawing him 
 on to commit eveiy absurdity she could devise. 
 And such, no doubt, if meant as attentions to her- 
 self, would have been many humble assiduities, 
 which, for Caroline's sake, he willingly paid her 
 ladyship. 
 
 During the progress of this amiable proceed- 
 ing, the honest-hearted Alfred received every 
 symptom of kindliness of manner, as an indica- 
 tion of maternal feeling, and as a proof that 
 Lady Palliser already considered him her future 
 son-in-law. 
 
 One evening they happened to be alone, when 
 he was about to take his departure ; her ladyship, 
 on bidding him good night, held towards him
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 215 
 
 her beautiful white hand in a very coquettish, 
 but, as he thought, in the most frank, obliging 
 manner possible. The idea struck him, that 
 considering his comparative want of fortune, it 
 might be more honourable in him to make some 
 disclosure of the state of his feelings to Lady 
 Palhser, previously to addressing Caroline herself ; 
 accordingly, in a paroxysm of grateful and duti- 
 ful affection, he seized her ladyship's proffered 
 hand, respectfully pressed it to his lips, and be- 
 gan to murmur something about his own unwor- 
 thiness. Lady Palliser, snatching her hand 
 away, laughed and said, " Go, you foolish child." 
 Alfred, thus discouraged for the moment, took 
 his departure in silence, with some idea that 
 Lady Palhser, however kindly and liberally 
 -disposed towards his humble pretensions, 
 ver}^ possibly thought both Caroline and
 
 216. DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 himself too young at present. What else could 
 she mean by calUng him a foolish child ? Little 
 did he dream of the construction put on his man- 
 ner by his intended mother-in-law. 
 
 As little had he suspected on former occasions, 
 that her ladyship had believed him to be making 
 a complete fool of himself, and had been in pro- 
 portion well amused, when, in conversation with 
 her, while every word was intended for the ear of 
 our heroine, who sat silently by at her drawing, 
 he had ventured on topics, which when alone with 
 Caroline he dared not introduce ; and eloquently 
 painted his idea of an ardent, genuine, and wor- 
 thy attachment, and the devotion of a whole 
 life consequent upon it till he had became 
 breathless with agitation: yet, seeing that 
 Lady Palliser only smiled at the uncon- 
 trollable warmth which quite carried him
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 217 
 
 away, he believed that he was tacitly approved 
 of, and so thoroughly understood, that explana- 
 tion, whenever the proper time for it should 
 arrive, would be merely matter of form. 
 
 VOL, I.
 
 21S 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 The triumphs of Aunt Dorothea over all 
 her enemies, particularly the Salters, were so 
 numerous, that to avoid prolixity we have not 
 recounted them. As for Miss Salter, she had 
 brought on a most inconvenient pain in the 
 back of her neck by the reiterated bows with 
 which she had again and again, morning after 
 morning, vainly endeavoured to draw the at- 
 tention of Mrs. Dorothea Arden. 
 
 One day, however, when that lady was driv- 
 ing up and down the High-street, seated at her
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 219 
 
 ease in her sister, Lady Arden's peculiarly 
 splendid open barouche, she beheld, trudging 
 along the flag-way and coming towards her, 
 Mr. and the Misses Salter, with countenances 
 which betrayed that they were not insensible 
 to the heat of the weather; and shoes so 
 assimilated by dust to the dust on which 
 
 they trod, as to be nearly invisible. Mrs. 
 Dorothea was not aware that the S alters had 
 ever before seen her in this elegant carriage: 
 so anxious w^as she therefore that they should 
 do so now, that on the impulse of the moment, 
 in defiance of havins; long^ since o:iyen them the 
 cut direct, she made an almost involuntary^ yet 
 very conspicuous bow. Electrified and delighted, 
 the whole party stopped short and performed no 
 less than three bows each in return ; while 
 Miss Salter, who had by much the greatest 
 l2
 
 220 JDILEMMAS OF PRIDE; 
 
 portion of moral courage of the whole trio, 
 added even a kiss of the hand. 
 
 Miss Dorothea had not been long returned 
 home when she received a card of invitation 
 from the Misses Salter to a quadrille party, 
 accompanied by a long servile note, to say 
 that they were much concerned at not having 
 
 had earlier it in their power to offer some 
 attention to her friends, Lady Arden and 
 family, and also to her friend Lady Palliser, 
 ?ind begging to know if their waiting upon, 
 and sending cards of invitation to these respec- 
 tive ladies would be agreeable. 
 
 To this was added a hint, that indeed the 
 party was in a great measure made for her 
 friends and would be very select. 
 
 To the invitation for herself, Mrs. Dorothea 
 sent a formal rejection, without assigning any
 
 J)ILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 221 
 
 reason. Of the absurd and forward proffer 
 of attention to h^v friends she took no notice. 
 
 Nor were those dignified proceedings the 
 sole mode of vengeance practised by Mrs. 
 Dorothea against her pitiful foes; for much 
 as she was herself engaged at present with 
 more agreeable occupations, she had placed 
 the affair from the commencement in such 
 able hands, namely, those of her prime minister, 
 Sarah, that no circumstance, however minute, 
 had been lost sight of. 
 
 The origin of the Salters, by its coarsest 
 appellation, had been diligently disseminated 
 in every servant's hall, and thence arisen to 
 the respective dining and drawing-rooms, till 
 it had reached the ears of many, who else had 
 never known that there were such people in 
 existence as the Salters.
 
 222 DILEMMAS OF PKIDE. 
 
 What was if possible worse. Sir William 
 Orm's servant in particular had been put on 
 his guard about the deception practised on him 
 by Mrs. Johnson-, respecting the young ladies' 
 fortunes; on which Sir William had without 
 the slightest ceremony cut the connexion al- 
 together. He never called or even left a card ; 
 he never joined them any where, and as to the 
 bows he gave them in return for those they 
 made to him from a mile off, they were really> 
 except to persons in desperate circumstances, 
 not worth having. 
 
 Sir James, it may be remembered, had de- 
 serted on the very first morning he had en- 
 countered Louisa Arden; so that disconsolate 
 indeed were now the pair who had so lately 
 congratulated themselves on having two 
 baronets for their lovers.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 223 
 
 Their select acquaintance too, the Shaw- 
 bridges and Whaleworthys, began ^to play 
 fine ; for in a watering place a title is a title, 
 whether got by accident or^^heese, and though 
 both beef and cheese, like all other necessaries, 
 are sad vulgar things, experience had taught 
 even the innocent hearted Lady Whaleworthy, 
 that with a certain class, and she poor woman 
 dreamed of no better, a title could cover a 
 multitude of cheeses. 
 
 Not so, alas, with the Misses Salter's family 
 secret, which seemed for the present to have 
 abolished all variety of diet, for (crying in- 
 justice!) while scarcely any body would visit 
 Mr. Salter, iMr. Salter's beef was, to quote 
 Sarah's polite pmi, " in eveiy body's mouth !" 
 
 People could not even propound the flatter- 
 ing probability of his having amassed a large
 
 224 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 fortune without some one more witty than 
 elegant adding the characteristic remark, that 
 while salting his beef it was supposed he had 
 taken care to save his bacon. 
 
 To complete the unfortunate position of the 
 family, Mr. Salter had unluckily found it 
 necessary of late, in consequence of an aggra- 
 vation of his old complaint of the eyelids, to 
 wear, protruding from beneath the brim of his 
 white hat, a green silk shade, which gave oc- 
 casion to the idlers on the Mountpelier-walk, 
 green being the well known colour of disap- 
 pointment, to assert that he had done so in 
 consequence of the cruel desertion of Lady 
 Flamborough, who had, simultaneously with 
 the appearance of the said badge of despair, 
 jilted him for a half-pay lieutenant; a gen- 
 tleman who having received a hint to retire
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 225 
 
 from the service of his Majesty, for reasons 
 best known to himself and his brother officers, 
 had come to Cheltenham to devote himself to 
 the service of the ladies. 
 
 Nor had poor Mr. Salter, while dragged 
 every day to the walks by his daughters, who 
 now had no one else to walk with, a chance 
 of forgetting his fair deceiver ; for there she 
 was to be seen morning and evening as gaily 
 undressed as ever, flaunting away and smiling 
 and lano-uishino; as usual : her white ostrich 
 feathers too, at the highly improper instigation 
 of the breezes, min2:lino; from time to time with 
 the bright red whiskers of the ci-devant 
 lieutenant; while she, ungrateful woman, had 
 the barbarity to pass poor Mr. Salter again 
 and again, without so much as a recognition. 
 "And that after," as he himself remarked, 
 L 3
 
 226 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " having had the face to eat his good dinners -^ 
 the remembrance of the cost of which now 
 added bitterness to the thoughts of slighted 
 love. 
 
 This was the morning too of the very day, 
 or rather evening, fixed for Lady Palliser^s 
 fancy ball, with the expectation of which the 
 whole town was ringing. Even the walks 
 were thinned by its prospective influence, or 
 rather pickeH of fashionables ; for those who 
 were to be there, were keeping themselves up, 
 that they might be quite fresh for an occasion 
 to which the very capriciousness of her lady- 
 ship's character had lent, in anticipation at 
 least, a more than common interest. 
 
 The Misses Salter, after weighmg for two or 
 three turns the poor chance which sad experience 
 had taught them there was of their picking up a
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 227 
 
 beau of any kind, against the certain disgrace 
 of showing by their wretchedness of fatigue 
 that they were not to be among the tUte of the 
 evening, decided on going home to their 
 breakfast, which social meal commenced in a 
 sulk and ended in a storm. 
 
 Miss Grace began again about the improvi- 
 dence of cutting iMrs. Dorothea in the pre- 
 mature manner they had done. ^' And it was 
 all your fault, Eliza," she continued, " that in- 
 solent temper of yours is always longing so for 
 an opportunity to break out ; and yet there is 
 nobody that can sneak and cringe in the mean 
 fawning manner that you can when you think 
 there is any thing to be got by a person. If 
 my advice had been taken, we would have been 
 acquainted with all these genteel people, and
 
 228 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 going to this ball to-night, no doubt. To do 
 Mrs. Dorothea justice, she was quite in- 
 defatigable in her kindness, and in getting 
 people to call on us and invite us as long as we 
 showed her any kind of gratitude ; so we have 
 ourselves to thank, or rather you for it all." 
 
 " Your advice indeed, you fool !" was all 
 Miss Salter could find to say; having, as she 
 could not help knowing, the worst of the 
 argument. 
 
 "It all comes of pride, and upstartishness, 
 and nonsense," said Mr. Salter. " Grace, the 
 girl, however, is so far right ; Mrs. Dorothea 
 Arden is a very worthy gentlewoman, and 
 showed us a great deal more civility than in 
 our station of life we had any right to look 
 for ; and it certainly was our place to be very
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 229 
 
 grateful for it, and if we have not been so it 
 is no fault of mine ; I knew nothing of the 
 carryings on of you Misses with your boarding- 
 school breeding forsooth/'
 
 230 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 In consequence of the expected ball in the 
 evening, neither the Palliser nor Arden party had 
 been at the walks in the morning. But soon 
 after breakfast Alfred called at Lady Palliser 's 
 with his usual offering of sweets, 
 
 Caroline had just entered the drawing-room, 
 and was proceeding towards a conservatory at 
 its further extremity, when the appearance of 
 Alfred an-ested her steps. 
 
 He assisted her in arranging the flowers he 
 had brought, and in selecting from them the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 231 
 
 favoured few she was to wear herself. This 
 task drew from liim some playful remark, more 
 love-like than rational, on the good fortune of 
 the happy blossoms thus chosen. 
 
 Lady Palliser had been particularly harsh 
 that morning about some trifle, and Caroline 
 was consequently in very bad spirits. 
 
 " Why should it be good fortune to be chosen 
 
 by me,'' she said, '' when I am myself the most 
 
 unfortunate of beings ? The poor flowers that 
 
 I choose," she added with a famt eflfort to laugh, 
 
 fearful she had said too much, ^^ will be the 
 
 first to fade away," quoting iNIoore's little 
 
 song. 
 
 " Or the young gazelle, with its soft black eye. 
 If it loved you well would he sure to die,^ ^ 
 
 proceeded Alfred, humming the air and conti- 
 nuing the quotation ; then in a half playful, half
 
 232 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 tender whisper, he subjomed, " The death- 
 warrant of many of whom your ladyship httle 
 thinks would be already signed and sealed were 
 this the case." But perceiving while he spoke 
 that though Caroline tried to smile her lip trem- 
 bled, he checked himself, and with an altered 
 tone exclaimed, " I beg a thousand pardons ! 
 You are — you seem — what can have — " 
 
 " Oh, nothing," she replied, " only other 
 young people are light-hearted and cheerful 
 together; there are your sisters for instance, 
 how happy they always seem to be ; and how 
 kind to you all — how indulgent, how affec- 
 tionate, Lady Arden appears. While I have 
 neither sister, nor brother, and yet my mother*" — 
 here checking herself, she added hesitatingly, 
 " I dare say — it must be my own fault — I sup- 
 pose 1 don't deserve to be loved — but I am
 
 DILEMMAS OF TRIDE. 233, 
 
 quite sure that— that — my mother does not love 
 me — and oh, if you knew how miserable the 
 thought makes me !" 
 
 " You cannot be serious," he said. 
 
 " I am indeed !" she repUed, looking up 
 with innocent earnestness, while her eyes swam 
 in tears. 
 
 x\lfred caught her hand, pressed it to his lips, 
 talked incoherently about the impossibility of 
 knowino; without lovino; her, then of his own 
 unworthiness, his presumption, his poverty, his 
 insignificance, See. See. ; his being in short a 
 younger son; and at length wound up all by 
 making, notwithstanding, a passionate declara- 
 tion of his love. If affection the most devoted, 
 the most unalterable, had any value in her eyes, 
 affection that would study her every wish, 
 affection such as he was convinced no lover had
 
 234 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE* 
 
 ever felt before ; if such affection could in any 
 degree compensate for the absence of every 
 other pretension^ such, unable longer to suppress 
 his feeling, he now ventured to lay at her feet. 
 
 Caroline trembled and remained silent. He 
 entreated her to speak, to relieve him from 
 the fear that he had offended her past forgive- 
 ness by the very mention of his perhaps too 
 daring suit. 
 
 " Does — my mother — know ?" she whispered 
 at last, " because — if not — I fear — ^" 
 
 " Lady Palliser I think,'' he replied, " must 
 know, must understand ; nay, I have ventured 
 to allude slightly to the subject, and have even 
 been presumptuous enough to translate her 
 ladyship's kindly and indulgent admission of 
 my constant visits as, however liberal on her 
 part, a tacit consent to my addresses/'
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 235 
 
 '' Oh, I hope you are right !" exclaimed Caro- 
 line, with an inadvertent earnestness which called 
 forth from Alfred gratitude the most profuse, ex- 
 pressed, not indeed loudly, but in whispers so ten- 
 der, so eloquent, that for some moments, Caro- 
 line, forgetting every thing but their import, felt 
 a happiness she had never known before. New 
 and delightful prospects of futurity seemed 
 opening before her youthful imagination, hi- 
 therto so cruelly depressed. Her countenance, 
 though covered with blushes, and studiously 
 turned away to hide them, so far indicated what 
 was passing within, as to encourage Alfred in 
 adding, 
 
 " To-morrow, then, when Lady Palliser may 
 possibly be at home, may I venture to speak to 
 her ladyship on this subject ?"
 
 236 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 After a short silence, Caroline replied with 
 hesitation, 
 
 " Yes — I — suppose — you had better." 
 
 But she sighed heavily as she said so, for she 
 dreaded the strange and whimsical temper of 
 Lady Palliser ; yet she now found that a feel- 
 ing of consolation accompanied what had hi- 
 therto been her greatest sorrow, the sense of her 
 mother's want of affectimi ; for perhaps, she 
 thought, she may not care enough about me 
 to mind what I do ! Here all her efforts at self- 
 possession gave way, and she yielded to a pas- 
 sion of tears. 
 
 Alfred had been holding her hand, and anx- 
 iously watching her countenance; he became 
 alarmed, and began to suspect, that perhaps 
 she was herself undecided. " What can this
 
 JDILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 237 
 
 mean ?" he cried. " You do not repent of the 
 permission "you have given me ? Carohne ! 
 say you do not ! Say I am wrong in this !"" 
 
 She raised her eyes and moved her hps to 
 reply, when a loud electrifying knock was heard 
 at the hall door. The look however had so far 
 reassured Alfred, that he again pressed her 
 hand to his lips, and repeated with an inquiring 
 tone, " To-morrow, then?" Footsteps were heard 
 in the hall ; the drawdng-room door opened, and 
 Alfred hastily disappeared, while a servant en- 
 tering, laid cards on the table and retired. 
 
 Caroline was hasteninof towards the conser- 
 vatory to take refuge there till her agitation 
 should subside, when the Venetian blind which 
 hung over its entrance was moved aside, and her 
 mother appeared before her, scorn and rage de- 
 picted in her countenance.
 
 238 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 Our heroine, her footsteps thus unexpectedly 
 arrested, stopped short in the centre of the 
 apartment, and stood trembhng from head to 
 foot. 
 
 From behind the Venetian blind, Lady Pal- 
 liser had witnessed the whole of the interview 
 between the lovers. 
 
 She was not herself previously aware that the 
 heartless coquetry in which she had been in- 
 dulging had taken so strong a hold even of her 
 bad feelings ; but disappointed vanity was per- 
 haps a mortification she had never known be- 
 fore. She therefore scarcely herself understood 
 the species of rage with which she was now 
 animated; the almost hatred with which she 
 now looked on the perfect loveliness of her 
 blushing, trembling child. Of course, on pru- 
 dential considerations she would have disap-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 239 
 
 proved of the match at any rate ; and of this 
 she now made an excuse to herself. 
 
 She stepped forward, and when close before 
 Caroline, stamped her foot, uttered an ironical, 
 hysterical laugh, and almost gasping for breath, 
 stood some moments ere she could well articu- 
 late. 
 
 " You piece of premature impudence !" were 
 the first words she at length pronounced. After 
 pausing again for a moment, she recommenced 
 with a sneer, " So you have made your arrange- 
 ment. I must congratulate you on Mr. Arden's 
 obliging acceptance of your liberal offer, of 
 heart, hand, and fortune !'* 
 
 Caroline looked the most innocent astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "You really do not understand me," pro- 
 ceeded her ladyship, in the same tone of mock-
 
 240 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 ery. " Are you then not aware that I have been 
 a witness to the scene which has just passed ? 
 and have, of course, heard your modest lady- 
 ship stating to Mr. Arden how much at a loss 
 you were for some one to love you, forsooth ! 
 Barefaced enough, certainly ! Upon which the 
 young man could not in common politeness do 
 less than offer his services. Besides, it was 
 much too good a thing to be rejected; few 
 younger brothers, and therefore beggars, would 
 refuse the hand of an heiress of your rank and 
 fortune. Go ! you disgrace to your family and 
 sex ; go to your room, and remain there till you 
 have my permission to leave it. As for Mr. 
 Arden, I shall give orders that he is never again 
 admitted beneath this roof. Should you here- 
 after meet him in society do not dare to recog- 
 nise him. Go !"
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 241 
 
 Caroline was moving towards the door, with- 
 out attempting a reply, well aware that remon- 
 strance or entreaty would be perfectly vain. 
 
 " Stay ! — I have changed my mind/' recom- 
 menced her ladyship. " Mr. Arden comes to- 
 morrow, it seems — let him come — I shall not 
 see him. Receive him yourself, reject him your- 
 self, now and for ever ! Tell him that on reflec- 
 tion you have repented of your folly ; and that 
 the subject must not be even mentioned to me. 
 Let the interview take place in this room — 
 let your rejection be distinct, and let him sup- 
 pose it comes from yourself. I shall be again 
 in the conservatory — I shall hear and see all 
 that passes ; and on your peril, by word or look, 
 sa^' more or less than I have commanded." 
 
 Caroline flung herself on her knees, and with 
 clasped hands and streaming eyes looked up in 
 
 VOL. I, M
 
 242 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 her mother's face. " Oh, do not, do not," she 
 exclaimed, " ask me to see him, and in all else 
 I will submit !** 
 
 Lady Palliser laughed out with malicious 
 irony, saying, " So you offer conditional obe- 
 dience. Do," she proceeded, frowning fiercely, 
 and extending her clenched hand in the at- 
 titude of a fury, "precisely as I have com- 
 manded !" 
 
 " This evening," continued her ladyship, with 
 affected composure, looking contemptuously 
 down on Caroline, who was sobbing ready to 
 break her heart, " this evening, deport yourself 
 as though nothing had happened : dance as 
 much as usual ; and do not dare to have red 
 eyes, or to show the slightest depression of man- 
 ner. Should Mr. Arden make any allusion to 
 what has occurred this morning, merely tell
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 243 
 
 him to say nothing more on the subject till to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Here Lady Palliser quitted the apartment, 
 while Caroline remained on her knees, over- 
 whelmed by utter despair, and shedding, with 
 all the innocent vehemence of childhood, the 
 large pure tears, which like summer showers fall 
 so abundantly from the eyes of the young in 
 their first soitow. 
 
 The alternative of daring to disobey her harsh 
 and heartless mother never once presented itself 
 to her mind as possible. 
 
 m2
 
 244 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 It was night — arrivals had commenced — the 
 lights, the music, the decorations, the sight and 
 scent of the flowers, all added to the aching of 
 Caroline's temples and the confusion of her 
 ideas, as she stood in a sort of waking dream, 
 conscious only of wretchedness, near the door 
 of the first of the reception rooms, courtesying 
 Vvith a mechanical smile to each new group that 
 appeared. She would have given the world to 
 have been any where else, but this was the post 
 her mother had commanded her to fill.
 
 J)ILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 245 
 
 When the ladies of the Arden party entered, 
 she felt a childish impulse to fling herself into 
 the bosom of Lady Arden, and drawing all the 
 daughters round her, entreat them to hide her 
 from her cruel mother. 
 
 Alfred next appeared, accompanied by Sir 
 Willoughby and Mr. Geoffery Arden, The 
 two latter named gentlemen had been expected 
 for some days, but had amved only about two 
 hours before. 
 
 Alfred presented both, and some unmeaning 
 conversation passed about the heat of London, 
 how long they had been on the road, &c. Our 
 hero, the moment he came in, missed the flowers 
 Caroline had promised to wear, and felt dis- 
 appointed. If she had forgotten them in the 
 hurry of dressing it was no very flattering token 
 of her regard. If, on the other hand, Lady
 
 246 DILEMMAS GF PRIDE. 
 
 Palliser had noticed and forbid her wearing 
 them, it was a bad symptom of his ultimate 
 success. He longed for an opportunity of ven- 
 turing some playful reproach which might lead 
 to an explanation. When his companions moved 
 on a step or two he drew very near, and asked 
 in an emphatic whisper, if the chosen blossoms 
 had faded already. A rush of colour, which the 
 peculiar fairness of Carohne's complexion al- 
 ready described made the more remarkable, 
 covered her cheeks in a moment ; but she at- 
 tempted no reply. After a short and somewhat 
 anxious pause Alfred asked her to dance ; she 
 looked up suddenly but vacantly, as if scarcely 
 comprehending what he had said, but still spoke 
 not. He was just about to repeat his words, 
 when Willoughby, who had been conversing 
 with Lady Palliser, turned round and made the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 247 
 
 same request. Caroline, glancing towards her 
 mother, and seeing her eye upon her, started, 
 assented quickly, took Willoughby's arm, and 
 walked to the quadrille. 
 
 Lady Palliser noted the chagrin of our hero 
 with secret triumph, and suddenly forming one 
 of her usually whimsical and tyrannical resolves, 
 determined, as an appropriate punishment for 
 the lovers, to many her daughter to Sir Wil- 
 loughby, whose match in town she had heard 
 it confidently reported was off. Though he 
 was but a baronet, his immense property made 
 it at least an ehgible marriage ; and such, little 
 as she cared about Caroline, she had always 
 considered it a necessary part of etiquette some 
 time or other to pro\ade. 
 
 That Alfred, however, might ascribe Caro- 
 line's change to her own caprice, and be the
 
 248 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 more mortified, Lady Palliser took his arm, 
 walked about with him for a considerable time, 
 and treated him with more than her usual 
 cordiality. 
 
 It had the desired effect, it threw him into 
 complete despair; he could not now even con- 
 sole himself with the thought that Caroline was 
 acting under the influence of her mother. 
 
 When the dancing had ceased, and CaroHne 
 was seated with her evidently delighted partner 
 on a distant sofa, Lady Palliser led our hero up 
 to her, and said, " Come, Caroline, I have no 
 notion of giving up old friends for new ones 
 altogether : you must dance one set with poor 
 Alfred ; do see how forlorn he looks.'' 
 
 Caroline was utterly confounded: had her 
 
 mother forgiven them — was she going to relent. 
 
 Such happy thoughts, however, were soon
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 249 
 
 scattered, for Lady Palliser, on pretext of ar- 
 ranging a stray ringlet, drawing very near, 
 whispered, with a menacing frown, " Take care 
 how you behave, and what you say.'' The 
 frown and whisper destroying as they did the 
 momentary hope, caused Carohne, on taking 
 Alfred's arm, to look so much disappointed that 
 it was impossible not to infer that she would 
 rather have remained on the sofa. Yet Alfred 
 could not bring himself to believe this ! he was 
 miserable, however, and did not know what to 
 think ; while he was so much occupied forming 
 painful conjectures, that he himself behaved 
 strangely and coldly. 
 
 Caroline thought with intense agony of the 
 
 task she had to perform in the morning, while 
 
 with a feehng allied to terror she stole from 
 
 time to time a momentary glance at the features 
 
 m3
 
 250 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 of him she must so soon mortally offend ; to 
 whom she must so soon give apparently just 
 cause to view her henceforward with hatred 
 and contempt. She even fancied that his coun- 
 tenance wore already a severity of expression 
 she had never seen in it before. She bewilder- 
 ed herself too with the thought, that if she 
 could get an opportunity and venture j ust to 
 whisper, " Mr. Arden, don't mmd any thing 
 I am obliged to say to you in the morning," it 
 might prevent his thinking so very very ill of 
 her as he must otherwise do. This sentence 
 she repeated to herself above an hundred times 
 during the quadrille, yet whenever she was 
 going to address it to Alfred, and more than 
 once she moved her lips to begin, she either 
 caught her mother's eye turned upon her, or 
 she fancied it might be, and dared not look to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 251 
 
 see lest it should give her a conscious and 
 guilty appearance ; or the impression that Al- 
 fred was already displeased became so strong 
 as to deprive her of the courage to speak to 
 him ; besides all which, her heart at each 
 abortive attempt she made to articulate, leaped 
 up into her tliroat, and by its excessive flutter- 
 ing quite choked her utterance, till the con- 
 venient moment was gone by. On the music 
 ceasing, Lady Palliser came up and took her 
 away, as if in great haste to make some ar- 
 rangement, yet, in so obnging a manner, and 
 with so many pretty excuses, that Alfred 
 thought her ladyship at least was unchanged. 
 
 And so must Caroline, he told himself again 
 and again ; ^' it can be but fancy on my part, or 
 rather, all that seems strange and altered in 
 her manner must proceed from her extreme
 
 252 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 delicacy, her excessive timidity, her conscious- 
 ness that we now perfectly understand each 
 other's thoughts makes her fearful to meet my 
 eye, at least with others present; makes her 
 afraid that all the world will know the moment 
 they see us together w^hat is passing in our hearts. 
 I can Avell imagine one so gentle, so young, so 
 fearful, feeling the newness of her situation, 
 almost as though she were already a bride; 
 having listened but this very morning, for the 
 first time in her life, I should suppose favour- 
 ably, to the accent of a lover." 
 
 Alfred had wandered into the conservatory, 
 where, amid the intoxicating odours of ten thou- 
 sand exotics — pursuing this train of thought — 
 he luxuriated for a time in dream-hke medita- 
 tions on the delicacy, the devotion, the exclu- 
 sive tenderness, which must necessarily charac-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 25$ 
 
 terise the attachment of a being so pure, so 
 innocent, so unpractised in the world's ways 
 as Caroline — his Caroline ! Yes, he was now- 
 entitled to combine with her idea this endearing 
 epithet. 
 
 He was standing^ the while with his arms 
 folded and his eyes unconsciously uplifted to a 
 brilliant lamp, as if lost in contemplation of 
 its brightness. 
 
 A change in the music broke his reverie; 
 when his discerning vision passing along a 
 vista of orange trees, found its way nito the 
 drawing-room, and fell on a group preparing to 
 waltz. Among these, and occupying the very 
 spot hallowed to memory by the interview of 
 the morning, he beheld Caroline standing with 
 the arm of Willoughby round her slender waist, 
 and her hand resting on his shoulder — a mo-
 
 254 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 ment after the couple had launched amid the 
 tide of changing forms ; but Alfred's eye still 
 traced them as they floated round and round 
 the prescribed circle, till, what with the moving 
 scene, and his own thoughts of agony, his brain 
 went round also. He had never been able to pre- 
 vail with Caroline to waltz, her plea of refusal 
 had always been that she did not waltz. Was 
 she then changed in every sentiment — in every 
 opinion — in every feeling! Had she become 
 hardened to the world — lost to personal deli- 
 cacy — lost to affection — lost to him ! What had 
 she — what had she not become ! and all withm 
 a few short hours.
 
 255 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 In vain had our heroine, when Sir Willonghby 
 had asked her to waltz, pkaded the same ex- 
 cuse alluded to in our last chapter. Lady Pal- 
 liser, who was near, and heard SirWilloughby's 
 request, interfered, and commanded compliance ; 
 while poor Caroline, who seems to have been 
 born but to be the victim of her mother's ca- 
 prices, was led away to join the gay circle, 
 trembling and broken-hearted. 
 
 The report that Willougby's marriage had been 
 broken off was quite true : he had written the
 
 256 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 account to Alfred a day or two before. The 
 lady had the very day previous to that fixed for 
 the wedding eloped with her former lover ; while 
 Sir Willoughby had found himself, his prepara- 
 tions being all made, in rather an absurd situa- 
 tion. 
 
 The newspapers, too, had taken unw^arrant- 
 able liberties with his name, and made some 
 witty comments on the superior personal attrac- 
 tions of his rival. 
 
 His vanity it was which had in the first in- 
 stance been gratified — his vanity now suffered 
 proportionately. And so irritable was his tem- 
 per and so depressed his spirits, on his arrival in 
 Cheltenham, that Alfred, who had but just re- 
 turned from his interview with Caroline, felt 
 that it would be mistimed to mention her, or 
 allude at all at present to his own happier pros-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 257 
 
 pects. He limited the confidential conversa- 
 tion, therefore, to kind condolence with his 
 brother, being too delicate to remind Willoughby 
 that he might have escaped this mortification 
 had he taken his advice. 
 
 Thus was the foundation unintentionally laid 
 of a concealment which finally led to many dis- 
 astrous consequences. 
 
 The moment Willoughby was introduced to 
 Caroline he was captivated by her beauty. After 
 they had danced together, when our heroine 
 was so unexpectedly desired by her mother to 
 dance with x41fred, Geoffery Arden, who maybe 
 termed Willoughby's e\'il genius, took posses- 
 sion of the seat beside him on the sofa, which 
 had been just vacated by Caroline ; and well 
 knowing his cousin's weak point, said, *' Well, 
 that is one of the most pointed things I ever saw."
 
 258 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " To what do you allude ?" asked Willoughby, 
 
 " Did you not see how mortified her ladyship 
 looked at having her flirtation with you dis- 
 turbed." 
 
 " Flirtation, indeed !" repeated Willoughby, 
 laughing ; " the acquaintance is rather short for 
 that, I should think.'' 
 
 " Nay, we hear of love at first sight ; and it 
 was certainly something very like it. You were 
 not many minutes in the room when you asked 
 Lady Caroline to dance; and I don't know 
 whether you noticed it, but a moment or two 
 before Alfred, who has been so long acquainted, 
 had made the same request ; the lady pretended 
 not to hear: she heard, however, when you 
 spoke, and consented with marked alacrity." 
 
 Willoughby's vanity, which had been so lately 
 wounded, gladly welcomed suggestions so flat-
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 269 
 
 tering. To woo and win the young, the beau- 
 tiful, the rich Lady Caroline Montague, might 
 well silence the jeers of those who were dis- 
 posed to make impertinent comments on his late 
 disappointment. 
 
 As for Geoffery Arden's motive for offering 
 the incense of flatteiy to Willoughby, it was the 
 same which in most cases governs most men — 
 self-interest. It was by the gTossest flattery 
 that he had long since made himself necessary 
 to his cousin ; and by the same means he still 
 sought to retain an influence over him, which, 
 in a pecuniary point of new, was particularly 
 convenient to himself. On the present occasion 
 also, he had seen with half a glance sufficient 
 to make him suspect, at least, that Lady Caro- 
 line Montague was an object of interest to 
 Alfred. If he was right in his conjecture, the
 
 260 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 circumstance might afford a favourable oppor- 
 tunity for sowing the seeds of dissension be- 
 tween the brothers, an object of which he never 
 lost sight, well knowing that his own influence 
 and that of Alfred could never gohand in hand — 
 the one being for evil, the other for good. 
 
 Added to this, it was always more or less an 
 object with him to throw obstacles in the way 
 of any love affair of either of the brothers ; for 
 though he was not so romantic as to expect by 
 such means to succeed in preserving them both 
 old bachelors, should they reach old age — 
 for such a chance could not be very important 
 to him, who was so much their senior — it 
 was just as well to keep the book of fate 
 open as long as possible. There was no use 
 in increasing the chances against himself. 
 The fewer names, in short, above his own
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 261 
 
 on the list of even improbable advantages the 
 better. 
 
 While the cousins continued to occupy their 
 sofa, and observe the dancers, Geoffery was elo- 
 quent in the praises of Caroline's beauty ; quot- 
 ing, as he well might, many high authorities for 
 lier being the acknowledged belle of the late 
 season in town. He knew that weak men, with 
 all their obstinate devotion to their own opinions, 
 unconsciously see with the eyes, hear with the 
 ears, and even speak in the language of others ; 
 and that their love most especially is a mere 
 reflection ! 
 
 Indeed, to gain an entire ascendency over 
 weak people only requires a little management ; 
 but unfortunately it is of that uncandid sort 
 which their best friends are the least likely to 
 adopt.
 
 262 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 If you say to an ill-governed child, " My 
 dear, you have eaten enough of that cake, give 
 it me, and take this pretty toy to play with." 
 The child says, " No, I won't ; it's not a pretty 
 toy," and eats faster than before. But lay 
 down the toy carelessly within his sight, and if 
 he has eaten sufficiently, he will drop his cake 
 on the floor, and fly to seize the toy. 
 
 Men and women of weak minds are but chil- 
 dren of a larger growth. 
 
 When the company had all retired. Lady 
 Palliser thus addressed her daughter: "Your 
 avoiding to dance with Mr. Arden was quite 
 unnecessary. I have no desire that your man- 
 ners towards him in society should be at all 
 altered: such conduct would draw down re- 
 marks which I do not choose should be made. 
 As for to-morrow," continued her ladyship,
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 263 
 
 " remember that I shall witness the scene ; 
 therefore let your obedience be perfect ! Also, 
 if you have any regard to decency left, take 
 care that no folly on your part gives Mr. Arden 
 an opportunity of boasting that Lady Caroline 
 Montague, in despite of the impropriety of the 
 alliance, was indelicately ready to fling her- 
 self into his arms, if Lady Palliser had not in- 
 terfered." 
 
 Her ladyship here quitted the room; and 
 Caroline, her ideas confused by this new view 
 of the subject, stood transfixed to the spot, 
 till aroused from her reverie by the entrance of 
 servants to extinguish the lights. 
 
 She retired, but it may be believed not to 
 rest. She fluno- herself on her bed without un- 
 dressing, and wept away the early morning, the 
 brightness of which entering freely through the
 
 264 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 shutterless windows of a Cheltenham bed-room, 
 shone with incongruous lustre alike on her glit- 
 tering ornaments and her falling tears. We 
 speak of morning, because the night, of course, 
 had been over before the ball concluded.
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Alfred had no opportunity for private con- 
 versation with his brother before he went to 
 his appointment at Lady Palliser's ; nor indeed 
 did he now desire it till he should have come 
 to some explanation with Caroline. 
 
 In strange perplexity of spirits, trying in 
 vain to persuade himself that he had every thing 
 to hope and nothing to fear, he repaired to Jes- 
 samine Bower. 
 
 On entering the drawing-room he perceived 
 Caroline, seated and alone. When he was an- 
 
 VOL. 1. N
 
 255 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 nounced, she did not move. He approached; 
 her eyes still remained fixed on the ground, 
 while the paleness of her complexion was 
 even more remarkable than usual, and a 
 very slight but universal tremor pervaded her 
 whole frame. He stood before her, and as he 
 did so, trembled himself with undefined appre- 
 hension. 
 
 * '' Good heavens, Caroline !" he exclaimed, 
 sinking on one knee, and attempting to take her 
 hand. She withdrew it hastily, and her cheeks 
 crimsoned while she cast one involuntary glance 
 in the direction of the conservatory. Alfred 
 rose, folded his arms, and stood for a moment 
 silent, tTien said — " If I have been presump- 
 tuous. Lady Caroline, I have much to plead in 
 jny excuse, and the interview of yesterday in 
 particular; I was certainly led to hope for a
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE* 267 
 
 more favourable reception, however little I may- 
 be deserving of it." 
 
 " I was — ^to blame/' said Caroline, in a voice 
 scarcely articulate, and still without looking up. 
 '' Is it possible ! Do I interpret you right ? 
 Were those hopes, to me so full of joy, altoge- 
 ther fallacious ? But no, Caroline, I will not, 
 I cannot believe it ! Lady Palliser objects, and 
 you deem it your duty to submit: even this 
 thought would be happiness, compared with 
 that of your indifference ! Or — or — "" 
 
 " My caprice!" said Caroline, looking up al- 
 most wildly for a moment, " Yes, think it my 
 caprice !" 
 
 *' I cannot believe it," he repHed. 
 There was a considerable pause, during which 
 he anxiously observed Caroline, and perceived 
 that silent tears were stealing down her cheeks. 
 n2
 
 268 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " Those tears are not caused by caprice/' he 
 said in a tone of tenderness ; " in compassion 
 say/^ he added with sudden and vehement ear- 
 nestness, " that you are acting in obedience to 
 Lady Paniser''s commands, and I too will sub- 
 mit." While speaking again he sank on his knee 
 before her, and tried to take both her hands. 
 The terror however with which she resisted, has- 
 tily rising as she did so — the more effectually to 
 avoid him — so much for the moment resembled 
 aversion, that he rose as hastily, and looking his 
 amazement, said with a hysterical intonation of 
 voice, *' If it is indeed so, I have a thousand 
 apologies to offer to Lady Caroline Montague 
 for my impertinent intrusiveness. To retire, 
 however, and offend no more, will perhaps be 
 better than entering further into the subject/' 
 He was about to depart, when pausing he said,
 
 PILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 269 
 
 " I will ask one question — Am I rejected ? Do 
 you finally withdraw the hopes you yesterday 
 bestowed ?'' 
 
 " I do," she replied. 
 
 He stood for a few moments to master his 
 emotion, then pronouncing a haughty good morn- 
 ing, hastily quitted the room and the house. 
 In a few moments after, he was pacing, with- 
 out plan or intention, one of the many shady 
 and usually quite solitary walks, which branch 
 off in every direction from the general scene 
 of gaiety, and near to which both -villas stood. 
 
 His pride, as well as eveiy tenderer and wor- 
 thier feeling, was wounded beyond description. 
 He now appeared, even to himself, in the light 
 of one who had indelicately, unfeelingly, and 
 presumptuously sought a match of worldly ad- 
 vantage, to which he had no pretension ; and
 
 270 DILEMMAS OF PEIDE, 
 
 though he could acquit himself of interested 
 views in so doing, he felt that it would be a ro- 
 mance and absurdity to expect so candid an in- 
 terpretation from any one else. The one conti- 
 nued dream, which had made up his whole 
 existence for many weeks past, was now dissi- 
 pated in an instant. Nay, he sought in vain 
 among his own meditations for the apologies, 
 even to himself, which had before seemed 
 sufficient. Caroline, so silent, so fearful at 
 the commencement of their acquaintance, had 
 seemed to derive a new existence from his 
 growing attentions, while Lady Palliser, in- 
 stead of checking those attentions, and showing 
 alarm at the visible pleasure with which her 
 daughter received them, had herself given him 
 what he then considered the most unequivocal 
 encouragement, being always the first to make
 
 JJILEMMAS OF PRIDE*: 27 J 
 
 intercourse easy to both, by desiring the always 
 timid Caroline to dance with him, walk with 
 him, and sing with him. And then the silent 
 glow of secret pleasure with which the welcome 
 command was obeyed, confirmed sometimes 
 perhaps by a momentaiy expression caught 
 when the eyes accidentally met, or at other 
 times merely by an alacrity of movement, or 
 cheerfulness of tone in obeying or replying, 
 which, notwithstanding, betrayed volumes in a 
 character too fearful and gentle to let itself be 
 regularly read aloud, yet too artless, too un- 
 practised, to know how utterly to seal its 
 pages. 
 
 While such things had been, the prejudices 
 of society had faded from his mind ; he had 
 beheved it not impossible that where an only 
 child already possessed inamense estates, a pa-
 
 272 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 rent might prefer the happiness of that child to 
 the unnecessary addition of other estates. Now 
 all the artificial estimates of life and manners, 
 taught by early education, returned in their 
 fullest force, and he thought himself a mad- 
 man ever to have entertained such an opinion* 
 
 He now believed that every one who knew 
 he had had the presumption to pay his ad- 
 dresses to Lady Caroline Montague, would re- 
 probate him and say, that because he was a 
 younger brother, and of course a beggar, he 
 wanted to make his fortune by marrying an 
 heiress. How bitterly did he now regret that 
 he had ever had the rash folly to confess his 
 passion. Yet, so thoroughly disinterested had 
 that passion been/ that he had even for the 
 time lost sight of the possibility of being sus- 
 pected by others of motives of which he was
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 273 
 
 himself incapable : all that through the happy 
 intoxication of his feelings had presented itself 
 respecting fortune, was a vaguely delightful 
 remembrance that his poverty could never en 
 tail any privations on Caroline. What was 
 now to be done? The wretched state of his 
 feelings would have induced him to quit 
 Cheltenham immediately, but wounded piide 
 prompted him to remain; he wished to let 
 Lady Caroline Montague see that her caprices 
 should not govern his conduct ; that he could 
 behave with composure in her society — with 
 polite self-possession even towards herself. 
 But in this first moment of just resentment, 
 he knew not the difficulty of the task he courted. 
 He resolved to conceal the whole affair from 
 Willoughby, and if his mother and sisters per- 
 sisted in making allusion to the subject of his 
 n3
 
 274 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE» 
 
 admiration of Lady Caroline Montague, to as- 
 sure them gravely that he never meant, in 
 his circumstances, to subject himself to the sus- 
 picion of seeking an heiress because she was an 
 heiress. 
 
 Having come to so dignified a resolve, he 
 flattered himself for the moment that he was 
 almost composed. Scarcely however had he 
 arrived at this conclusion, than fond memory, 
 more at leisure than it had been during the late 
 angry burst of disappointed passion, began re- 
 tracing scenes, recalling looks, repeating words, 
 recounting circumstances, till his mind again 
 became a troubled sea, from amidst the breakers 
 of which he beheld, but now with all the 
 aggravated feelings of one sent adrift in a bark 
 without rudder or oar, tantalizing views, but 
 too distant to admit a hope of reaching a smiling
 
 DILEMMAS or PRIDE, 275 
 
 happy shore- a haven of bliss to fancy's eye, 
 which appeared the more perfect now that it 
 was unattainable. 
 
 At one time he stopped short, and stood for 
 about ten minutes like an absolute statue, quite 
 unconscious of any outward object. He was 
 asking himself, if it were not still possible that 
 Caroline was acting under the influence of Lady 
 Palliser and if there might not come a time when 
 that influence would cease ?
 
 276 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 No language can paint the utter desolation of 
 poor Caroline's mind ; for she was too young, 
 too inexperienced, too much accustomed from 
 infancy, to be the unmurmuring slave of her 
 mother's capricious tyranny to have any thing 
 like a just estimate of her ovi^n situation. 
 
 Had she ventured to think, which she had 
 never yet done, that when of age she should be 
 her own mistress, she v/ould, as very young 
 people do when they look forward three or four 
 years, have thought the period so remote as to
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 277 
 
 be scarcely an object of hope ; while she would 
 still have trembled at the thought of venturing 
 at any time, however distant, to disobey her 
 mother, unless indeed she could be quite sure 
 of never seeing her again. 
 
 Lady Palliser's plan of government when 
 Caroline was a mere infant, had been a system 
 of terror ; nor had any thing in her subsequent 
 conduct tended to soften that first impression. 
 Frowns and menacing attitudes had been used 
 towards the baby before it could understand 
 words, if when occasionally brought into its 
 mother's presence it had happened to stretch 
 its little hand towards any attractive object. 
 Hours of sohtary imprisonment in a dark room 
 had been inflicted on the child, for but a fan- 
 cied dilatoriness of movement in the execution 
 of a command, till poor Caroline had learned;
 
 278 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 to start with nervous alarm, and fly with the 
 alacrity of terror at the very sound of her mo- 
 ther's voice ; while it w^as melancholy to see, 
 during the seemingly willing movement the 
 little innocent face of the child filled with the 
 contradictory expressions of anxiety and dread. 
 
 Thus had early associations followed up by 
 constant tyranny, imposed at the dictates of a 
 temper unreasonable, capricious, and unfeeling, 
 taught CaroUne to view with a sinking of the 
 heart the very smiles of her mother's counten- 
 ance, as played off in company ; none of them 
 she knew were intended for her, even when 
 tlieir light, perchance, was turned upon her. 
 
 Overweening, all-engrossing vanity, was Lady 
 Palliser's ruling passion ; society therefore in 
 which she could be the object of universal ad- 
 miration was her only element. Not that she
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 279 
 
 was what is commonly called a flirt : — she was 
 too haughty — too exacting of general adoration 
 for such a condescension towards any indi- 
 vidual in particular ; while yet within her 
 hidden thoughts, concealed beneath an appear- 
 ance of statue-like coldness, she had a secret 
 delight in imagining every man with v. hom she 
 was acquainted, as much in love with her as he 
 dared to be, and withheld from a declaration of his 
 passion only by her owii haughty reserve : nay, 
 so far did she carry this dream of vanity, that 
 she felt more or less of resentment towards every 
 man of her acquaintance who married or at- 
 tached himself to any other woman. 
 
 Such was the person with whom poor 
 Caroline had hitherto spent eveiy domestic 
 hour she could remember. Her home, which 
 had thus never been a happy one, now by con-
 
 280 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 trast with the vague hopes in which she had 
 latterly ventured to indulge, presented to her 
 imagination a long perspective of tenfold dreari- 
 ness. The frowns in private, the artificial 
 smiles in public of her unkind parent, were 
 all that she anticipated in future. Her very- 
 youth seemed an aggravation of her misery, 
 for the grave itself, which, in her present 
 exaggerated and hopeless state of feeling, 
 was she believed, the only refuge to which 
 she could look forward, appeared at an im- 
 measurable distance, the path to it stretching 
 before her mind's eye an interminable pilgrimage 
 of weariness. 
 
 We do not mean to support these views of 
 the subject as rational or just ; but CaroHne 
 in exj^erience and knowledge of the world, as 
 well as in chancery phraseology, was still an
 
 PILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 281 
 
 infant ; even her love had at present something 
 in it of the feeHngs of the child turning to the 
 kind and gentle, as a refuge from the harsh- 
 ness of the more severe ; and with the idea of 
 Alfred was blended thoughts of hi^ sisters and 
 of Lady Arden, and of their happy home — that 
 scene of cheerfulness and oeneral goodwill, 
 which she had latterly enjoyed the privilege of 
 enterins: without ceremonv, and which she had 
 never quitted without regret. 
 
 The most severe, however, of all her suffer- 
 ings was the thought that Alfred must now 
 hate and despise her. 
 
 She was shut up in her own apartment 
 weeping bitterly and giving way to a succession 
 of dreary reflections, when she received a sum- 
 mons from her mother to appear in the draw- 
 inof-room. So much was she accustomed to
 
 282 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 
 
 obey-implicitly that she did not dare to excuse 
 herself. 
 
 On descending, she found with Lady Pal- 
 liser, Sir Willoughby Arden and his cousin 
 Geoffery. Willoughby was turning over new 
 songs and professing himself a great admirer 
 of music ; the true secret of which was that 
 he sang remarkably well himself. After some 
 trivial conversation, he discovered several duets 
 in which he had often taken a part with his 
 sisters, and intreated that Caroline would try 
 one of them. She excused herself on the plea 
 of a headache caused by the music, lights, 
 and late hours of the previous evening; but 
 Lady Palliser interfering, she was compelled to 
 make a wretched attempt ; the manner spirit- 
 less, the voice tremulous and even out of tune. 
 Willoughby*s performance, however, was really
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 283 
 
 good; he was therefore quite delighted. As 
 the song was being concluded, Lady and the 
 Misses Arden came in, and the latter being 
 prevailed on to assist Willoughby with some 
 more of his favourite duets, the visit was pro- 
 longed into quite a morning concert. 
 
 When the Ai'dens were about to take 
 their departure for the avowed purpose of a 
 walk, Lady Palliser insisted on Caroline's ac- 
 companying them, sapng that the air would 
 take away her headache. Caroline made a 
 faint effort to excuse herself, but in this, as in 
 eveiy thing, was obliged to submit. 
 
 They soon met and were joined by Lord 
 Darlingford and Sir James Lindsey; and it 
 not being an hour at which any part of the 
 walks was particularly crowded, they wandered
 
 284 PILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 on to where the shade by its coolness was 
 inviting, 
 
 Willoughby attached himself entirely to our 
 heroine, with whom he already fancied himself 
 in love. Lord Darlingford walked soberly 
 beside Jane, who after many relapses of a 
 hope, fainter at each return, had resigned her 
 early dream of first and mutual love, and was 
 now quietly receiving his serious addresses. 
 She had at length brought her mind to an- 
 ticipate, with a placid sort of happiness, the hope 
 of obtaining for life the companionship and 
 protection of a friend whom she could respect ; 
 together with the certainty of securing a perfectly 
 eligible establishment, and thus escaping all 
 those miseries inflicted by the unfeeling world*s 
 scorn on the poor and the unprotected ; — miseries
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 28o 
 
 against which her mother and her aunt had so 
 often warned her. . 
 
 Louisa was attended by Sir James, her ex- 
 pected marriage with whom was now the 
 universal theme. She had herself, however, 
 by no means made up her mind ; she could not 
 even approach a decision, her meditations on 
 the subject always ending in a fruitless wish 
 that Heniy were the elder brother. 
 
 Madeline, who did not happen to have a 
 lover present walked and talked with her cousin 
 Geoffery. 
 
 Mrs. Dorothea had been called for as they 
 passed her door; she was the companion of 
 Lady Arden. 
 
 Arranged in the order we have described, 
 our party came suddenly upon Alfred, standing
 
 28^ DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 where we last left him, and having just brought 
 his solitary musings to the final summing 
 up with which we concluded the last 
 chapter.
 
 287 
 
 CHAPTER XXIir. 
 
 Alfred could not without an appearance of 
 great singularity avoid joining the party; he 
 turned, therefore, and making his salutation to 
 Carohne, and what other recognitions were neces- 
 sary, in as hurried a manner as possible, took the 
 unoccupied side of Madeline. Geoffery saw a 
 good deal, and suspected more. "Where have 
 you been all the morning, Alfred ?" he said. "We 
 have had some delightful music at Lady Palliser's." 
 
 " Indeed ! " replied our hero. 
 
 " Yes," added Willoughby, " Lady Caroline 
 
 -Ibtfai^
 
 288 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 was SO obliging as to try one or two charming 
 duets, in which her ladyship permitted me to 
 attempt a part." 
 
 Alfred could scarcely credit that he heard 
 aright — was it possible ! — could Caroline indeed 
 be so utterly devoid of feeling ? What, but a 
 few moments after having driven him froui her 
 presence, overwhelmed with despair by her ca- 
 pricious perfidy ? However strangely changed, 
 however indifferent she had herself become, had 
 she not even the grace to compassionate the suf- 
 ferings she had wilfully inflicted ? Could she with- 
 in the very same half hour be in such exuberant 
 spirits that it was necessary to exhaust them by 
 singfino: for the amusement of her mornino; 
 visiters ? Or was it indeed possible, that young 
 as she was, she had already learned worldly 
 wisdom suJB&cient to prefer the possessor of the
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE, 289 
 
 Arden estates to his landless younger brother ? 
 So indeed it would appear. Had she not last night 
 danced with Willoughby in preference to him- 
 self ? — Had she not afterwards departed from her 
 usual line of conduct to waltz with him also ? — 
 This morning, had not every thought and feeling 
 undergone an evident and sudden revolution. 
 That prudential considerations had been strongly 
 represented to Caroline he made no doubt ; it 
 was highly improbable that such views had 
 arisen spontaneously in her own mind ; but 
 of what value could the merely fanciful ' - 
 ference be that could 1^'^ 
 To believe Ca" 
 cruel pa* 
 wr
 
 290 PILJIMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 and parted from Lord Darlingford and Sir 
 James at the door, the sisters began as usual 
 to banter Alfred about his love; and Lady 
 Arden observed laughingly, " But you seem to 
 have quite resigned your post to Willoughby." 
 Alfred made a strong effort to treat the subject 
 with seeming carelessness, and replied generally, 
 that younger brothers had no pretensions. 
 
 " That is," replied his mother, "as the lady 
 may think. And I am sure Willoughby would 
 be very sorry to interfere with your prospects ; 
 i^^ii-^ss ran be no object to him. 
 
 " nzed. Alfred begged 
 
 subject with 
 
 -'-ed his
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 291 
 
 line Montague, nor the slightest reason to sup- 
 pose that if he were guilty of so silly a presump- 
 tion, his forwardness would not meet with the 
 repulse it should deserve. 
 
 " I don't know that," said Geoffery ; " it must 
 depend on the share of encouragement a lady 
 pleases to give.'* 
 
 " Lady Caroline Montague," observed Wil- 
 loughby, " is certainly much to be admired ; at 
 the same time," he added, with evident pique, 
 " I should be sorry, were I ever to enter the 
 lists among her ladyship's adorers, to owe my 
 success to being an elder brother, as my mother 
 would infer ! " 
 
 The girls persisted in laughing, and declaring 
 there must have been a lover's quarrel ; for 
 that Alfred did not speak of Lady Caroline 
 
 in the least hke the way he used to do. 
 o2
 
 292 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " There is certainly a great change/' said 
 Mrs. Dorothea ; " every thing appeared to be 
 going on just as Alfred's best friends could 
 have wished." 
 
 " How busy people make themselves," thought 
 Willoughby, " but they shall not influence my 
 conduct," 
 
 To avoid the painful topic, Alfred sauntered 
 into the lawn by one of the open French 
 windows. He was almost instantly followed 
 by Willoughby, who took his arm and walked 
 for some time up and down in silence. 
 
 " I wish Alfred you would be candid with 
 me," said Willoughby at last, " I certainly ad- 
 mire Lady Caroline Montague, but mine is the 
 admiration — the acquaintance of a day — an 
 hour. If you are seriously attached, still more, 
 if the attachment is, as my mother and sisters
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 293 
 
 seem to think, mutual, tell me so honestly, 
 and I am sure you will do me the justice to 
 believe, that had I the vanity to suppose I 
 could succeed in such an attempt, I would be 
 the last being in existence to wish to interfere 
 with your happiness; so far from it, that if 
 fortune is the obstacle, say so, and I will make 
 a settlement on you so splendid, as to leave no 
 room for objection on that head." 
 
 Alfred, quite overcome by his brother's ge- 
 nerosity, was unable to articulate; he drew 
 Willoughby's arm closer to his side in token of 
 his gratitude, and they walked on a little, till 
 finding themselves sheltered from the imme- 
 diate view of the windows by a drooping 
 acacia-tree, they paused by a sort of mutual 
 consent, and Alfied, making an efibrt to master 
 bis emotion, said — " I feel Willoughby, if pos- 
 o3
 
 294 DILEMMAS OF TRIDE. 
 
 sible, more gratitude than if I were about to 
 accept arid be made happy by your noble offer. 
 I feel too," he added, hesitating, " that I — owe 
 it to your generous nature to make a confession, 
 which else I had gladly avoided. I — I have 
 been already rejected — rejected not by Lady 
 PaUiser on the plea of want of fortune, but 
 by Lady Caroline Montague herself. You are, 
 therefore, of course — free — to — to — " but he 
 could not bring himself to give the palpable 
 form of words to the remainder of the inference. 
 " Rejected already ! and by Lady Caroline 
 herself!" repeated Willoughby. "Thank hea- 
 ven then, my interference at least can never 
 be alleged. What occurred before my arrival 
 cannot be laid to my charge. This, under 
 whatever circumstances may arise, will be an 
 infinite consolation to my mind.
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 295 
 
 Alfred did not judge it necessary to correct 
 the slight error in chronology which his brother 
 had made, and a protracted silence followed ; at 
 length Willoughby said, '^ Do you think it pro- 
 bable, Alfred, that you will be induced to renew 
 your addresses ?'" 
 
 " Certainly not !" replied Alfred. 
 
 " In that case," said Willoughby, again break- 
 ing the silence, " who may or who may not ulti- 
 mately succeed in making themselves accept- 
 able to Lady Caroline ^Montague can in no wise 
 affect your happiness?" 
 
 " My happiness,'* replied Alfred, in a strange 
 hurried manner, " is quite irrelevant to the pre- 
 sent subject : but I am not, I trust, so selfish 
 as to feel any desire to condemn a ladv to a 
 life of celibacy, merely because — but let us lay 
 aside this painful subject; I shall endeavour as
 
 296 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 quickly as possible to forget all things con- 
 nected with it, except, indeed, the feelings of 
 heartfelt gratitude so justly due to you, my dear 
 Willoughby." 
 
 While this conversation was passing in the 
 lawn, Geoffery, whom we left in the drawing- 
 room with the ladies of the family, addressed 
 Mrs. Dorothea Arden thus : 
 
 " So you really think it will be a match 
 between Alfred and Lady Caroline Monta- 
 gue V 
 
 " I should think so, certainly,'' repUed Mrs. 
 Dorothea ; " his attentions have been very 
 marked, and have been received with decided 
 approbation, both by mother and daughter ; and 
 I am sure that he is, poor fellow, very sincerely 
 attached." 
 
 " We all thought it quite settled/* said 
 
 S
 
 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 297 
 
 Jane. Her sisters echoed nearly the same sen- 
 timent. 
 
 " There can be no doubt," observed Lady 
 Arden, " that Alfred would have a right to 
 consider himself very ill treated, if any objection 
 to his pretensions were started at this late pe- 
 riod." 
 
 " There was a great difference, however, last 
 night,'* said Louisa, " in Lady Caroline's man- 
 ner.'' 
 
 " And a still greater this morning," added 
 Madehne." 
 
 " Your ladyship thinks Alfred attached to 
 Lady Carohne?" asked Geoffrey. 
 
 " L^nquestionably !" replied Lady Arden, 
 "If the affair should not go on, it will be a 
 veiy serious disappointment to him, I am con- 
 vinced." 
 
 ^
 
 298 DILEMMAS OF PRIDE. 
 
 " And her ladyship received him well up to 
 last night?" persisted Geoffrey. 
 
 " I should certainly say so," Lady Arden 
 replied. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. 
 
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