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 \
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " EMILY." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 M.DCCC.XLI.
 
 ?X3 
 
 nrt\\3t 
 
 V '\ 
 
 '^ TO 
 
 ^ THE HONOURABLE MRS. PRITTIE 
 
 \jj ®i^is aaorfe is BcBicatcti 
 
 HER AFFECTIONATE DAUGHTER, 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 KATE CHARLOTTE MA BE ELY. 
 
 jONDON, April 1841.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 *^ I WISH, Lady Brandon, you would take an 
 early opportunity of speaking to Florence 
 about Lord Saville. He has been here quite 
 lonsf enouo-h for her to know whether she 
 likes him or not, and it will not do for her 
 to go on day after day, avoiding every thing 
 like an explanation with him, as I see she 
 does." 
 
 *^ I will speak to her, if you wish it. Sir 
 William ; but indeed I think it will be much 
 better to leave her to herself: it will only 
 agitate the poor girl to talk to her upon the 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE LOVE-MATCH, 
 
 subject. And besides, would it not be as 
 well to wait until Lord Saville proposes to 
 her?" 
 
 *■ I fancy you will have to wait a long time 
 for that, unless Florence alters her conduct.'' 
 
 " Why, what would you have her do, Sir 
 William? I cannot imagine any thing more 
 gentle or more charming than Florence's 
 manner is to him and to every one," said 
 Lady Brandon, looking very much hurt at 
 Bny imputation being cast upon her favourite 
 daughter. 
 
 " My dear Lady Brandon, you quite mis- 
 take my meaning. I merely intended to say, 
 that as long as Florence shews such a marked 
 disinclination for Lord Saville's society, we can- 
 not expect him to propose to her ; and you will 
 allow, that even with her beauty, and the right 
 she has to expect to marry well, such a match as 
 Lord Saville is not to be met with every day. 
 His rank and fortune are the least of his ad- 
 vantages; the high character he bears, and
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. O 
 
 his noble lineage, are, in my eyes, far beyond 
 wealth or title. It would be a marriage after 
 my own heart/' continued Sir WiUiam, with 
 a look of pride ; '^ to see the houses of Saville 
 and Brandon united is my dearest wish.'* 
 
 " It certainly would be, in every way, a 
 splendid marriage for her, I own ; and I 
 should be much disappointed if any thing 
 should occur to prevent its taking place. 
 Still I do not see why there need be any hurry 
 about the matter. It is quite evident Lord 
 Saville thinks of nothing but her. What else 
 could make him remain here so long? We 
 only invited him for a few days to meet Mr. 
 De Grey, and yet here they have both stayed 
 for weeks, and every day or two find some 
 fresh excuse for prolonging their visit. Of 
 course, it is all Lord Saville's doino^; and that 
 Florence is the cause of it, I have not the least 
 <loubt." 
 
 *' I do not doubt it, either," replied Sir 
 William, '^ but I must own I should like to
 
 4 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 have something settled about it ; and- 1 should 
 also be just as well pleased if Mr. De Grey- 
 would set out upon the tour he is always 
 talking of, instead of staying here for no 
 other purpose, it seems to me, than to sing 
 duets with Florence all the evening. He 
 occupies all her time and attention. If he 
 would go away, she would then contrive to 
 talk to Lord Saville a little more than she does 
 at present." 
 
 ^' I am sure I do not see what harm poor 
 Gerald De Grey does to Lord Saville; he 
 seems extremely fond/ of him: and as to his 
 singing, lie does not sing a bit more with 
 Florence now than he did last year, v/hen 
 there was no one else here. Remember, she 
 has known Gerald ever since she was a child, 
 and she feels more at ease with him than with 
 a stranger — particularly as he never had any 
 thoughts of marrying her — you know Gerald 
 is not a marrying man." 
 
 ^* I did not suppose he was ; he has taken
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. O 
 
 care to leave himself scarcely the means of 
 marrying. But still I know what I say. 
 Lady Brandon; and, depend upon it, if you 
 want Florence to be Lady Saville, the sooner 
 you can persuade Mr. De Grey to leave his 
 friend to his own guidance, the better." 
 
 *' Why you do not think he would prevent 
 his proposing to her? On the contrary, he 
 has often told me how delighted he would be 
 if she married Lord Saville — I am quite sure 
 Gerald would do nothing to prevent it." 
 
 ''I dare say he would not, purposely; but 
 his being here at all may prevent it. I am not 
 generally very observant upon such matters, 
 but I should like to know how a man can ever 
 have an opportunity of making himself agree- 
 able to a girl if another is always at her side! 
 Whether Florence rides, walks, or sits at 
 home, it is always the same thing. I do not 
 say that De Grey pays her any particular 
 attention, but merely that his being so much 
 here is a very injudicious arrangement. It is
 
 6 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 impossible for me to say a word to him on the 
 subject: but you, vvlio are so fond of him, 
 might very easily give him a little hint, which 
 I am sure he would not take unkindly. Women 
 manaoe these thing-s so much better than we- 
 do. Consider, my love, we have two other 
 dauohters, and it will be the sfreatest ad- 
 vantage to them when they come out, to have 
 their elder sister so well married, and es- 
 tablished in the world." 
 
 *' Certainly it would be of very great use ta 
 them, and would save my going to town, which 
 I particularly dislike the thoughts of. But 
 they are so young still — Louisa is not fifteen, 
 and Mary a year younger. We have abun- 
 dance of time to think about them ; and I 
 cannot bear the thoughts of worrying poor 
 Florence about her marriage. She is not 
 seventeen yet — it is very young to marry," 
 said Lady Brandon, with a sigh. 
 
 *^You did not think so, my dear," said 
 Sir William, in a softer tone ; *' you were
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 7 
 
 not older than Florence when we were married, 
 and you have never repented marrying so 
 young, I think, Mary ? " 
 
 '* Oh, no, indeed ; I should be too ungrateful,, 
 if I could say so," replied Lady Brandon, her 
 soft eyes filling with tears, as she spoke. '* But 
 then, perhaps, Florence, may not feel exactly 
 the same for Lord Saville as I did for you. Do 
 you think she likes him ? '^ 
 
 *' She cannot possibly dislike him, he is one 
 of the best-looking men I ever saw; — gentle- 
 manhke and well-educated. What more can 
 any woman want?" 
 
 ** He is certainly very good-looking. I have 
 no reason for imaginino; that Florence does not 
 like him j on the contrary, she always speaks 
 very highly of him. But I confess he is a 
 man I should not like." 
 
 ** IN'ow pray. Lady Brandon, do not put that 
 into Florence's head, or you will just make her 
 refuse him ; and if she once does so, there will 
 be no chance of making her change her de-
 
 "8 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 termination. A high-spirited girl like Flo- 
 vence is much more difficult to mana^fe than 
 one of a soft, retiring nature, like Louisa j she 
 would do exactly as she was desired ; but 
 Florence is more likely to do things in her 
 own way — she has always had too much of 
 it, in my opinion." 
 
 '^ My dear Sir William, how can you say 
 so? I am sure no one is so little spoiled as 
 Florence ; you do not know what an angel 
 that girl is — so generous, so warm-hearted ; and 
 then only consider how clever and beautiful 
 she is ! Though she is my own child, I cer- 
 tainly never saw any girl that could be com- 
 pared to her; and she is so affectionate, it 
 would be impossible not to doat upon her;" 
 and Lady Brandon's voice trembled, as she 
 spoke of her daughter. 
 
 '^ She is certainly all that you say, Mary ; 
 but it is her very superiority over other women 
 that makes me so anxious to see her well 
 married. Florence is fitted for a very high
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 9 
 
 station; no other would suit her; and, were 
 she to marry a poor man, she would very soon 
 find it out, when it was too late. Though 
 no one has better sense, yet she is full of en- 
 thusiasm, and disinterested to a degree that 
 is scarcely credible. Hers is just the dis- 
 position to lead a woman into some act of 
 folly, from a mistaken feeling of generosity. 
 If I did not think so, can you suppose that I 
 should wish her to marry so young? My poor 
 Florence — it will be a sad day when she leaves 
 us. But I should not feel that I had done my 
 duty towards her, had I not at least recom- 
 mended that she should not throw away so 
 good an opportunity of making a great match, 
 merely from some foolish fancy." 
 
 Sir William Brandon paused for a few 
 moments, as if undecided whether to say 
 more, or not ; but having taken two or three 
 turns up and down the library, he seated 
 himself by Lady Brandon, and continued in 
 a still more confidential tone than before, — 
 b2
 
 10 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 '^ Besides, my dear Mary, I have another 
 reason for being anxious that Lord Saville 
 should not be discouraged at this moment : — 
 Have you not observed any thing in the man- 
 ner of Julia Manvers when he is present?" 
 
 "Julia! no. I dislike her so much, that 
 though she is your niece I very seldom attend 
 to what she says or does." 
 
 ** I know^ Mary, that you do not like her ; 
 I cannot say that I approve of the manner in 
 which she has been brought up ; my sister's 
 ideas of education are very different from 
 yours ; and I always fancy that the life Julia 
 has led is the cause of her being so little like 
 our girls." 
 
 *' But what have you remarked about her?'* 
 said Lady Brandon. 
 
 "Why, that if Florence does not take care 
 what she is about^ Julia will manage to be 
 Lady Saville instead of her, that is all, my 
 dear Mary." 
 
 ''Impossible!" answered the simple Lady
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 11 
 
 Brandon ; " you remember it was only a year 
 ago that Lady Marwood was in such a state 
 about Gerald De Grey ; she fancied that Julia 
 was attached to him ; and she told me nothing 
 should ever induce her to consent to the mar- 
 riage. But I have not heard any thing of it 
 lately. However, I am sure she cannot care 
 for Lord Saville. You know she never saw him 
 till she came here, and they have only been, 
 in the house a fortnight." 
 
 *' I know all that, Mary, but I also am pretty 
 sure that the very reason they came here at all 
 Avas to make Lord Saville's acquaintance. You 
 know how both Julia and her mother detest 
 the country, and how often we have asked 
 them to come here, and yet they hardly ever 
 came, and when they did, they stayed one day 
 or two at the most; but now they suddenly 
 invite themselves : they have been here for 
 some time, and seem to have no more idea of 
 moving than Lord Saville and Mr. De Grey. 
 I know them too well to ima2:ine that it is for
 
 12 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 the pleasure of our society they prolong their 
 visit in this manner." 
 
 *^ Certainly it is rather odd, now that I think 
 of it J but still I am sure Lord Saville does not 
 admire Julia in the least : how could he do so 
 when Florence is in the room?" said Lady 
 Brandon, with a look of pride. 
 
 " I do not think he does admire her; but if 
 she is always at hand to pay him attention, to 
 admire him and applaud every thing he says, 
 while Florence always avoids him,- he certainly 
 is very likely to end in bestowing his attentions 
 •where he sees they are the most acceptable.*' 
 
 '^ Julia Manvers has nothing to recommend 
 her but her family," observed Lady Brandon, 
 musingly. 
 
 " And believe me, Mary, that is no slight 
 recommendation ; the Mar woods are one of the 
 most ancient families in Scotland ; '' — and Sir 
 William left the library with a very stately step 
 and a look even more dignified than usual. 
 
 Upon no point was he so tenacious as upon
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 13 
 
 that of birth. He was one of the oldest 
 baronets, and could boast of a long line of 
 ancestry untainted by one alliance which could 
 lower the dignity of the name, unsullied by one 
 act which had brought dishonour upon it. 
 
 Sir William Brandon was justly proud of his 
 family, and looked with a smile of scorn upon 
 all newly-acquired rank, unless where the dis- 
 tinction had been conferred as the reward of 
 some brilliant achievement, or offered up at 
 the shrine of superior genius and talent. 
 Those so honoured, he justly felt, were placed 
 but where, they ought to be. As for himself, 
 his sole ambition was to live as his ancestors 
 had done — at his own home, in all the splen- 
 dour and comfort of a wealthy country gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 Wandesford Park was as celebrated for the 
 romantic beauty of its grounds as for the 
 kindness and hospitality which vv^ere ever 
 met with in its halls. Sir WiUiam seldom 
 quitted it. Once a -year he would make a 
 short visit to town, for the purpose of
 
 14 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 attending a levee ; and Lady Brandon, though 
 much against her inclination, appeared at the 
 next drawing-room in all the splendour of 
 the family diamonds. She, as well as her 
 husband, considered it an imperative duty 
 to present themselves, at least once in the 
 year, before their sovereign ; but the gaieties 
 of town had no charm for them. They had 
 a constant succession of society when in tlie 
 country, and much preferred returning home 
 to enjoy the beauty and delights of the 
 summer, to passing the most delicious months 
 of the year in an atmosphere 'composed of 
 smoke, dust, and vapour, for the sake of 
 standing in a crowd at a party until nearly 
 suffocated, or attending a variety of dinners 
 for the most part dull and uninteresting. 
 
 Lady Brandon was a quiet, unpretending 
 woman, who hated all bustle and excitements 
 Gentle, ladylike, and retiring, she was always 
 happiest at home ; her heart was devoted to 
 her husband and children ; she lived only for 
 them, and treated her daughters rather with
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 15 
 
 the frankness and affection of an elder sister 
 than with the authority of a mother. She 
 had three daughters ; but the eldest, Florence^ 
 was her especial favourite. Though too kind 
 and affectionate to make apparent any dif- 
 ference of feeling that she might entertain 
 towards her other children, Lady Brandon 
 could not help owning to herself that Florence 
 was dearer to her than any thing upon earth. 
 She actually looked up to her beautiful child 
 as she would have done to a superior being; 
 her reliance upon her was as touching as it was 
 unusual to behold. She could enjoy nothing 
 without her daughter — nothing was perfect 
 in her eyes unless Florence thought it so — 
 nothing was so well done as what Florence 
 did. In short. Lady Brandon seemed totally 
 to depend upon the will and opinion of this 
 idolized girl, and she could not bear to hear 
 a word whispered against her in any one way, 
 or permit that she should ever be thwarted or 
 disappointed even in her slightest wish.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Lady Brandon had not listened to the con- 
 versation of her husband without having 
 experienced considerable uneasiness. The 
 very idea of Florence being married was in 
 itself painful to her. Though her affection 
 for her child was of too disinterested a nature 
 to allow her for a moment to dwell upon 
 the hope, that the day was far distant when 
 she should be called upon to resign her 
 to another, — yet when that day came, that 
 she would be deprived of the society of her 
 precious child — that she would see her borne 
 to the home of a stranger, away from all 
 who from her cradle had nursed her with 
 the utmost tenderness — away from all whom
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 17 
 
 %\\e was accustomed to see — all whom she 
 had ever regarded with coufidence and affec- 
 tion — Lady Brandon felt that, when that 
 day came, she must be most wretched, and 
 she thought of the trial with a deep sigh. 
 
 But she was too sensible a woman not 
 to be aware that sooner or later this hour 
 must come ; and though latterly she had 
 endeavoured as much as possible to banish the 
 idea, yet there were moments when she could 
 not blind herself to the fact that in all proba- 
 bility the time was approaching but too fast. 
 The admiration of Lord Saville for Florence 
 was not to be mistaken, and it was in every 
 way so desirable a marriage, that Lady Bran- 
 don could not for an instant hesitate as to 
 the propriety of her accepting his proposals 
 so soon as he should make them. 
 
 She did not imagine that Florence did not 
 like Lord Saville, though, as she had said to 
 her husband, she could never have liked him 
 herself. She merely fancied that her datighter
 
 18 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 was shy and nervous. It was the first time 
 she had ever been called upon to think on 
 this subject, and Lady Brandon remembered 
 the state of alarm into which she Iierself 
 had been thrown by the first mention of 
 a proposal from Sir William. 
 
 At all events, she determined to avoid 
 every thing like appearing to wish that 
 Lord Saville should find a favourable oppor- 
 tunity of declaring his sentiments to her 
 daughter. That he only waited for such an 
 opportunity, to do so, Lady Brandon was- 
 fully convinced. Until this morning, no 
 doubt had ever arisen in her mind as to his 
 ultimate intentions ; but the hint of Sir Wil- 
 liam Brandon with regard to Lady Juha 
 Manvers, had awakened whatever feelings of 
 pride and ambition could exist in the gentle 
 and truly amiable disposition of his wife. 
 Kind-hearted and benevolent to all, Lady 
 Brandon could not have hated her most 
 bitter enemy ; but if there were two people-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH, 19 
 
 \vhom she disliked and despised, it was Lady 
 Marwood and her daughter. 
 
 Lady Marwood was the only sister of Sir 
 William Brandon. She was several years his 
 senior, and had continued, or endeavoured 
 to continue, the same dictatorial manner 
 towards her brother as she had been accus- 
 tomed to exercise over him when they were 
 children together. But Sir William was not 
 to be persuaded out of his own ways and 
 opinions by his fine lady sister. He persisted 
 in remaining in his own country, and at his 
 own place, instead of taking his daughters to 
 Paris for their education, or keeping open 
 house in London for the convenience and 
 amusement of Lady Marwood. 
 
 This latter was the point which Lady Mar- 
 wood most wished to carrj', as it would have 
 been by far the most beneficial to herself. 
 She certainly would have preferred, that when 
 the three Miss Brandons came out, they 
 should have .been distinguished by the per-
 
 20 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 feet grace and touniure which her own 
 daughter possessed ; it would have flattered 
 her vanity to have acknowledged them as 
 her nieces. But this was but a secondary 
 consideration with Lady Marwood. Her first 
 was money. To obtain that, she would have 
 done anything — sacrificed anything. 
 
 Lady Marwood had now been for many 
 years a widow, and her jointure was much 
 too inconsiderable to support the continual 
 routine of extravagance in which she in- 
 dulged, and which rendered her generally 
 half the year a pensioner on the bounty of 
 her only son, Lord Marwood, or of Sir Wil- 
 liam Brandon. Proud and haughty when in 
 prosperity, the moment that she found herself 
 in distress, the mean and mercenary feelings 
 of her nature became apparent, and she 
 scrupled not to cringe and to fawn upon all 
 who could be of any service to her. 
 
 The character of Lady Julia Manvers w'as 
 exactly what might have been expected in the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 21 
 
 daughter of such a mother; but in coldness of 
 heart and depth of design, Lady JuHa far sur- 
 passed her. She was not pretty, and she was 
 perfectly aware of it. Every aid that could be 
 borrowed from dress, manner, and affectatioq^ 
 was called into requisition to make up for 
 the want of beauty ; and more than once 
 even the loveliest had found themselves neg- 
 lected and deserted, when Julia Manvers was 
 present. 
 
 She had arrived at that time of life, when 
 every season ending in disappointment, ren- 
 ders a middle-aged young lady either more 
 sour or more desperate ; and the experience 
 of many years of indefatigable exertion, 
 though hitherto it had failed in securing the 
 grand object of her wishes, gave her a de- 
 cided advantage over those, who, with minds 
 as yet pure and undimmed as their personal 
 loveliness, had but just made their appearance 
 in the world, and entered upon the career of 
 matrimonial speculation.
 
 90 
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Julia 3Ianvers was two-aiid-thirty ; and 
 though she scarcely looked a day older 
 than when she first came out, yet it was, 
 to her, a melancholy truth, that for four- 
 teen long years she had been unsuccess- 
 ful in her constant endeavours to effect any 
 marriage which at all coincided with her 
 ideas of a good match. It is true, that more 
 than once, some luckless individual had been 
 deceived by her manoeuvres into a belief that 
 she was artless and unsophisticated, as she 
 pretended to be. But this had always been 
 followed by an avowal, that his true and 
 heartfelt affection was very nearly all that 
 was in his power to offer; and Lady Julia, 
 though professing principles of ultra disin- 
 terestedness, had always deemed it prudent 
 to decline a proposal of this sort. 
 
 !N"ot being encumbered with any stability 
 of character, or any fixed principle of religion, 
 Julia Manvers could be every thing in turn, 
 and contrived always to adapt herself to the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 23 
 
 disposition of those with whom she happened 
 at the moment to be associated, and whose 
 good opinion slie imagined might be of some 
 advantage towards the furtherance of her 
 worldly views. Two of the best years of her 
 life had been thrown away in the vain hope 
 of having inspired with a lasting attachment 
 Sir Henry iNIelville, a rich young baronet, 
 who was her neighbour in Scotland, and. 
 who was supposed to be of a very serious 
 turn of mind. Lady Julia immediately be- 
 came serious ; visited every Sunday, charity, 
 or inf\\nt school, within her reach ; attended 
 missionary meetings ; established clothing 
 funds ; went to church three times every 
 Sunday; and in short, did a great deal of 
 good ; — but alas ! from no higher motive 
 than the laudable desire of becoming Lady 
 Julia Melville. 
 
 In this hope, Lady Julia continued for 
 some time. One London season had already 
 been sacrificed, that she might have the
 
 24 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 better opportunity of bringing her designs 
 to maturity, by remaining in the country, 
 where Sir Henry had determined to spend 
 the summer. All their neighbours had gone 
 to town. Lady Marwood grumbled exceed- 
 ingly ; for any thing but a London life was 
 detestable to her. But her daughter's re- 
 monstrances prevailed, and she consented to 
 remain during the three most beautiful 
 months in the year at INIarwood Castle, 
 where, during the minority of her only son, 
 she had the privilege of residing. 
 
 Lady Julia thought herself sure of her 
 prey; and day after day, new acts of charity 
 were performed — new excursions arranged — 
 all with the ostensible object of discovering 
 and alleviating some case of distress, during 
 which she might contrive to display the 
 amiable and generous traits of disposition 
 which she imagined most likely to fix the 
 wavering affections of Sir Henry. She never 
 allowed her victim to escape from her vigi-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 25 
 
 lance even for a few hours. Their mutual 
 pursuit was an invaluable pretext for constant 
 correspondence; and endless were the notes 
 and letters daily received by Sir Henry from 
 the fair hands of Lady Julia Manvers. 
 
 All this, however, was destined to come to 
 an end. One evening, towards the middle 
 of June, Lady Julia, in the most becoming 
 demi-toilette, was sitting at the open window 
 of the drawing-room, which looked towards 
 a lawn bounded by beautiful shrubberies, 
 when Sir Henry, who had walked across the 
 fields from his own house, suddenly stood 
 before her. Her joy was unbounded ; the 
 evening glided rapidly away ; and just as 
 the moon had appeared, and clothed every 
 thing in that beautiful soft and silvery light 
 which is said to be so favourable to the de- 
 clarations of lovers. Sir Henry proposed a walk. 
 
 Lady Julia instantly acceded : they wan- 
 dered to a most lovely and romantic spot, and 
 there, seated beneath a bower of jessamine, Sir 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Henry, with many expressions of gratitude for 
 the friendship with which she had always 
 honoured him, and professing the utmost con- 
 fidence in lier discretion, proceeded to inform 
 her that he was irrevocably, though hopelessly^ 
 attached to another — one, too, by whom he 
 Lad once fancied himself beloved, but during 
 his absence abroad she had married, and, 
 having taken a very serious turn of mind, now 
 refused to receive his visits; and he ended by 
 entreating Lady Julia's advice and assistance 
 in endeavouring to soften the severity of the 
 sentence of banishment which had been pro- 
 nounced against him. 
 
 Nothing could equal the dismay of Lady 
 Julia, except, indeed, the rage which swelled 
 her bosom almost to bursting. With the 
 greatest difficulty she contrived to dissemble,, 
 and once more was the aid of religion called in 
 to veil an unworthy purpose. She affected the 
 utmost horror at the heinousness of the sin, and 
 indignation at the supposition that she could
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 27 
 
 for a moment lend herself to the furtherance of 
 such wickedness. 
 
 In fact. Lady Julia was upon the point of 
 quarrelling with Sir Henry Melville, but an 
 instant's reflection altered her purpose. She 
 resolved to make one last effort : and from that 
 day she employed every moment in endeavour- 
 ing to wean him from the affection which he 
 declared had so long occupied his whole soul. 
 
 At the expiration of a month Lady Julia 
 was convinced her efforts would be useless, 
 and she therefore unhesitatingly dismissed the 
 infatuated young man from her presence, de- 
 claring herself insulted by having been made 
 the confidant of such an unholy passion. 
 
 Sir Henry, humbled and abashed, quietly took 
 his leave, and Lady Julia remained with no- 
 thing- to console her but the consciousness 
 (which was but a poor comfort to her) of having 
 performed acts of charity and self-denial suffi-^ 
 cient to entitle her to being canonized as a 
 saint.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Enraged by her disappointment, Lady Julia 
 determined not to throw away any more of her 
 time upon serious young gentlemen. She gave 
 up attending her schools ; threw by all the 
 tracts and religious books which had latterly 
 been her sole study ; replaced them by an 
 importation of the newest French novels; and 
 immediately turned her attention towards com- 
 pletely remodelling her dress, so as to make a 
 proper appearance at some of the foreign water- 
 ing places, where she had, after no little trou- 
 ble, persuaded Lady Marwood to spend the 
 autumn. 
 
 Lady Julia now looked with contempt upon 
 the modest, quaker-like simplicity of her ward-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 29 
 
 robe, and the only sensation approaching to joy 
 that she could at that moment experience, was 
 the prospect of re-assuming her usual style of 
 dress, and re-appearing in the gay world, the 
 scenes and intricacies of which were much more 
 congenial to her taste and habits than the 
 exercise of the duties of charity and benevo- 
 lence. These she had only assumed as a mask, 
 and unfortunately they were as easily thrown 
 aside, and having made no impression upon her 
 wayward and unprincipled nature, Lady Julia, 
 after two years of scrupulous obsm'vance of 
 every outward form of goodness, awoke from 
 her delusion with regard to Sir Henry Mel- 
 ville, with a heart full of bitterness, and became 
 more designing and hypocritical than before. 
 
 Years passed on, and still all her plans 
 seemed invariably destined to end in disappoint- 
 ment, until, as a last resource, she persuaded 
 her mother to pass a winter at Naples. Very 
 soon after they had established themselves in 
 their new abode in that city. Lady Julia con-
 
 30 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 trived to form an acquaintance with Mr. De 
 Grey, a young Englishman of high birth, and, 
 it was said, of great expectations. Such a 
 prize was not to be neglected, and Lady JuHa 
 had no sooner ascertained that he was the Mr. 
 Be Grey whose father lived at that beautiful 
 old place near her uncle's. Sir William Bran- 
 don, than she decided in her own mind that 
 she would return to England as the wife of 
 Gerald De Grey. 
 
 For a short — a very short period, all looked 
 well. Mr. De Grey passed almost the whole 
 ef his time at Lady Marwood's house, and his 
 attentions to Lady Julia appeared to her well- 
 practised eye to be more voluntary than was 
 usually the case with her admirers. Then for 
 the first time did she discover that she had a 
 Jteart, if any feeling of so deceitful and cal- 
 culating a coquette can be supposed to pro- 
 ceed from such a source. Be this as it may. 
 Lady Julia became in a short time passionately 
 attached to Mr. De Grey. But alas ! no pro-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 31 
 
 posal of marriage followed ; at least none was 
 ever announced to the world. As the lady's 
 manner became more subdued, almost more 
 respectful, the gentleman might have been, 
 observed to be less attentive, and more dif- 
 ficult to amuse or interest than in former 
 da3's ; until one evening, in his usual grace- 
 ful manner, Mr. De Grey took leave of Lady 
 Marvvood, and begged to know if she had any 
 comm.ands for England, as he was to start 
 upon his journey homewards on the following 
 morning. 
 
 Lady Marwood, with three other dowagers, 
 was busily engaged in a rubber of whist at the 
 moment this astounding communication reached 
 her ear. She laid down her cards, and turned 
 uneasily in her chair towards the corner where 
 her daughter usually sat in the evening. 
 
 '' Julia, my dear—" began Lady Marwood; 
 but Julia was not to be seen, and before she 
 could recover from her surprise, Mr. De Grey 
 also had vanished.
 
 32 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Lady Marwood finished her rubber as fast a& 
 her usual dignified manner would permit, and 
 hastened to her daughter's room. Lady Julia 
 probably had gone to bed, for the door was 
 bolted, and Lady Marwood received no answer 
 to her repeated entreaties for admission. The 
 next morning all her maternal anxieties were 
 dispelled by her daughter's assurance " that 
 she must have been quite mistaken if she had 
 ever imagined there was any thing real between 
 her and Mr. De Grey; that she liked him very 
 well as a friend, but w^as not in the least 
 anxious to see him again." 
 
 Lady Marwood was satisfied, and Lady 
 Julia, with a shade more of rouge on her 
 cheeks than usual, began at that evening's ball 
 one of those harmless flirtations with an un- 
 fledged attacht which she so well knew how to 
 manage — better, perhaps, than with a clever 
 man of the world like Gerald De Grey. 
 
 No one said much about the matter after- 
 wards. One sagacious old maid did indeed
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 33 
 
 hint to her next neighbour at the tea-table, that 
 she thought Mr. De Grey ought to have proposed 
 to Lady Julia Manvers ; but it went no farther. 
 
 Lady Juha was always very careful of her 
 reputation. She merely wanted to use it as 
 she had done her religion, as a mask ; for she 
 knew too much of the world not to be aware 
 how often it is made a cloak for guilt — a shield 
 from beneath the protection of which the dart 
 of slander may be safely hurled against others, 
 whose only crime, perhaps, has been that of 
 imprudently attracting remark while ignorant 
 of the malice of the world. Lady Julia was 
 very careful of appearances, and therefore 
 though she was continually engaged in dis- 
 graceful manoeuvres, less was said about her 
 than about most people. 
 
 She remained for some time at Naples, and 
 when, in the following year, she and Gerald De 
 Grey met at dinner at the house of a mutual 
 acquaintance, no pique was visible in her man- 
 ner, and no awkwardness in his. 
 c2
 
 34 . THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 It was two years from this time, when Lady 
 Juha, having latterly contented herself with 
 aspiring to more moderate establishments than 
 she had for the first few years of her life con- 
 t€mplated, resolved to make one last grand 
 attempt upon the greatest parti of the day — 
 the young and handsome Lord Saville, who had 
 Bot very long come of age and into possession 
 €^f unbounded wealth. To effect this, she had 
 seized upon the opportunity of his going to 
 Wandesford with Mr. De Grey, of which she 
 had been duly apprized by the latter; who, 
 provided he himself was not to be the person, 
 was very ready to assist Lady Julia in any 
 way that he could towards the attainment of 
 a husband. 
 
 Lady Julia disliked Sir William and Lady 
 Brandon, and all their daughters, but most 
 particularly she hated Florence, who, besides 
 feeing very beautiful, was the only one who 
 was old enough to be at all in her way. Any 
 one with a mind loss vicious than that of Lady
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 35 
 
 Julia, would have found it impossible to regard 
 such a being as Florence Brandon with other 
 feelings than those of admiration and interest. 
 But Lady Julia, completely occupied with her 
 own worldly and selfish views, only looked 
 upon her beautiful cousin as a rival, and the 
 artless affection which this warm-hearted girl al- 
 ways displayed towards herself, excited no other 
 feeling in her breast, than the cruel hope that 
 if she could not by any other means remove 
 this hated rival from her path, she might, at 
 least, through the very attachment that Flo- 
 rence felt for her, obtain that complete ascend- 
 ancy over her which was necessary to her 
 present plans. 
 
 In this hope Lady Julia contrived to re- 
 press every symptom of jealousy ; and from 
 the hour of her arrival at Wandesford, her 
 attentions to Florence resembled more the over- 
 affectionate solicitude of an elder sister, than 
 the dislike and suspicion of a jealous rival. 
 Lady Julia possessed no small share of accom-
 
 36 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 plishments, but far from endeavouring to 
 exhibit her own acquirements, she seemed 
 always ready to consign them to obscurity, so 
 as to leave full scope for the display of the" 
 varied talent of her cousin. Though she cared 
 very little about music, she would hang upon 
 each note breathed by the beautiful lips of 
 Florence, with an attention seemingly as rapt 
 as that of Lord Saville himself; nor were her 
 expressions of admiration less enthusiastic, 
 when Florence sung alone, than when the rich 
 tones of Gerald De Grey were heard to mingle 
 in the strain. That voice which had once been 
 to her a sound sweeter than the imaginings of 
 heavenly music, now fell coldly upon her ear. 
 Once, how it had thrilled through her; with 
 ■what delight had she once gazed upon the 
 speaking beauty of his countenance, and si- 
 lently drunk in delicious draughts of love, as 
 the peculiar charm of his manner fascinated 
 her every sense ! 
 
 But it was not either safe, or pleasant, ta
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 37 
 
 think upon by-gone days; so Lady Julia de- 
 termined to devote all her energies to the 
 present moment. It chanced that on the 
 evening of the very day when Sir WilHani had 
 called Lady Brandon's attention to the ma- 
 noeuvres of Lady Julia, the latter was, as usual, 
 seated as near as possible to Lord Saville, 
 while Florence continued to sing (as she now 
 generally did) sometimes alone, but more often 
 with Mr. De Grey, the whole evening. 
 
 Lady Brandon was not naturally a very 
 observant person ; but now that her attention 
 had been aroused, she certainly, as she sat 
 quietly before her work-table, did decide in her 
 own mind that, unless Lord Saville intended 
 to propose to Florence by proxy, things did 
 not look as if there was any probability of their 
 coming to a speedy conclusion. She looked 
 back to the last few evenings, and recollected 
 that the employment of each individual of the 
 party seemed to have been always the same : 
 Lady Marwood at the card-table ; Lady Julia
 
 38 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 whispering to Lord Saville, whose eyes were 
 fixed upon Florence ; and the latter either 
 singing or listening to the conversation of 
 Gerald De Grey, which was carried on in too 
 low a tone for her mother to be able to judge 
 of its import. Lady Brandon determined this 
 should not last ; and on the party breaking 
 up for the night, she followed her daughter to 
 her dressino-room. 
 
 o 
 
 *' Florence, my love," she began, as soon as 
 they were alone, *' I want very much to speak 
 to you." 
 
 " Dear mamma, I am ready to hear all you 
 have to say." 
 
 *' What I have to say makes me feel very 
 sad, my child. - I cannot contemplate the 
 possibility of losing you without being 
 wretched;" and Lady Brandon's voice 
 trembled with emotion, which she vainly- 
 endeavoured to conceal. 
 
 " Losing me ! Dear mamma, what can 
 you mean?"
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 39 
 
 " it is of Lord Saville I would speak. You 
 must know, Florence, how much he admires 
 you — you must see it ; and yet you never give 
 him an opportunity of speaking to you. Even 
 to-day at dinner it was the same thing. You 
 come down late every day now, and then the 
 only place vacant at the table is one by Gerald 
 De Grey, by whom you cannot particularly 
 wish to sit ; and your father says he is always 
 in the way." 
 
 Florence had turned away her face as her 
 mother continued to speak, and the only part 
 of it that was visible was the edge of a cheek 
 that was tinged with crimson. Twice she tried 
 to turn round, but it seemed as if she could 
 not. At last she did, and with a sudden burst 
 of tears threw herself into her mother's arms. 
 
 *' Dear, dear mamma ! " she exclaimed, 
 though her voice was broken by her sobs, 
 " you do not want me to go away from you — 
 you do not want to get rid of your poor 
 Florence ! "
 
 40 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Lady Brandon was almost overcome by the 
 violence of her emotion, but she struggled to 
 reply with calmness. 
 
 '* You know, Florence, that the bare idea of 
 losing you is dreadful to me ; but still I should 
 not do my duty to you, my child, if I did not 
 tell you that the affection of such a man as 
 Lord Saville ought not to be trifled with. 
 But, perhaps, you dislike him. Tell me, my 
 child, and if it is so, God forbid that I 
 should ever say another word to you upon 
 the subject." 
 
 *' Indeed, mamma, I do not dislike Lord 
 Saville ; but that is very different from >" 
 
 " From what, dear Florence ? " inquired 
 Lady Brandon, looking inexpressibly relieved. 
 Florence did not answer, and Lady Brandon 
 continued in a calmer tone, — 
 
 *' You know that if I did not think well of 
 Lord Saville, nothing would tempt me to speak 
 to you in his favour. But besides his high 
 rank and fine fortune, be is, though very
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 41 
 
 young, looked up to and respected by all who 
 know him." 
 
 "I dare say he is very good — and he is 
 very rich, I believe," replied Florence, who 
 felt she ought to say something in his favour. 
 
 *' Yes. His family is one of the oldest, and 
 his fortune one of the largest, in England ; 
 and, believe me, Florence, that is not to be 
 disregarded. You have been brought up in 
 luxury — you have no idea of privation, or of 
 the trial it is to a woman." 
 
 ^' I do not think I should mind it in the 
 least, dear mamma," said Florence, with 
 sudden animation. 
 
 " That is because you have never tried it, 
 my love. You would not make a good wife 
 for a poor man," said Lady Brandon, fondly 
 caressing the beautiful head of Florence as 
 she bent it towards her, and looked up again 
 with a smile of such excessive sweetness, 
 that it gleamed brighter than the tears that 
 still hung upon her long, dark eyelashes.
 
 42 THE LOVE-MATCFT. 
 
 '' I assure you, dear mamma," persisted 
 Florence, " you are quite mistaken. I could 
 do without so many things — almost every 
 thing — if it was to please a person that I 
 loved — hked, I mean;" and Florence blushed 
 deeply as she corrected herself. 
 
 " I have no doubt you would do all you 
 could. But there are some people less fitted 
 to struggle with poverty than others ; and I 
 think you are one of those. But vve will not 
 debate the point now. You will promise me, 
 then, to be more civil to Lord Saville, since 
 you do not dislike him?" 
 
 '• Oh, yes ! I will take pains to be very 
 civil to him ; but oh, mamma, do not ask me 
 to think about marrying him !" said Florence, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 '' It will be time enough to talk about that 
 when he proposes to you, my child. I am 
 satisfied with your promise ; for, indeed, your 
 constantly avoiding him is but an ungracious 
 return for his attentions."
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 43 
 
 "I do not want his attentions; and, be- 
 sides, mamma, I do think you mistake a little 
 about him, for he is just as attentive to Julia 
 — he likes just as well to talk to her as to 
 me." 
 
 This was the most unlucky remark Florence 
 could have made. All Lady Brandon's mater- 
 nal pride was roused in a moment. She could 
 not bear the thought of Lady Julia's ma- 
 noeuvres being crowned with such resplendent 
 success. 
 
 " My dear Florence, you must be very blind 
 if you do not see that the whole time he is 
 talking to Lady Julia he is looking at you. 
 I am quite sure you are his only object.'* 
 
 Lady Brandon had fixed her eyes upon her 
 daughter as she spoke, but no smile of gratified 
 vanity — no look of triumph at the thought of 
 eclipsing her cousin, was visible upon the beau- 
 tiful countenance of Florence. She looked 
 harassed and irresolute, as if several times on
 
 44 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 the point of saying something to her mother, 
 but still she did not speak. At last, Lady 
 Brandon, fearing to sny too much, bid her 
 good night, and contented herself with re- 
 peating, as she kissed her forehead, — 
 
 '* Well then, Florence, remember you will 
 promise to be in time for dinner to-morrow. 
 I am sure I wish Gerald De Grey would go 
 to his father's or somewhere. Your father 
 says that his being here occupies all your 
 attention." 
 
 Lady Brandon had turned to the dressing- 
 table, and was lighting her candle as she said 
 these words. She therefore did not remark 
 the crimson blush that overspread the coun- 
 tenance of Florence : cheek, forehead, and 
 bosom, were alike suffused by its burning 
 hue ; and it was not for several minutes after 
 Lady Brandon had quitted the room, that it 
 faded away ; when, as Florence mentally re- 
 peated her mother's words, ^' I wish Gerald
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 45 
 
 De Grey would go away," a shudder seemed 
 to creep over her, that blanclied even her hps 
 with its deadly chill. 
 
 " If he icas to go away !" said Florence, half 
 aloud, and she clasped her hands with an 
 expression of passionate earnestness that would 
 have left little doubt on the mind of the be- 
 holder what the state of her feelings would 
 be should such an event occur. 
 
 For some time Florence was absorbed in 
 reflection. Her mind wandered back to the 
 many years of her acquaintance with Gerald. 
 She remembered him from the days of her 
 childhood ; for though several years younger 
 than he wa.s, from the circumstance of their 
 parents having been always on terms of in- 
 timacy, WandesfoM had been considered by 
 Gerald almost as his home. Whenever he 
 had been in the country, his time had been 
 pretty equally divided between his father's 
 house and Sir William Brandon's; and dur- 
 ing the last few months in particular, he
 
 46 THE LOA'E-MATCH. 
 
 had been almost a constant resident at 
 Wandesford. 
 
 Florence passed slightly over the early day& 
 of their friendship. It was on the last few 
 weeks that her thoughts finally settled, and 
 more especially on the last few days. What 
 a multitude of hitherto unknown, undreamt 
 of feelings had they not discovered to her ? 
 She could recollect the day when his arrival 
 had been comparatively a matter of indiffer- 
 ence to her ; but now, it was so no longer ; 
 now, if she only heard his voice — even his 
 coming step — it was with a sensation almost 
 amountino; to faintness, so intense was the 
 delight it created ; and Florence felt her cheek 
 glow, and her heart throb wildly beneath the 
 little hand that was pressed upon it as if to 
 still its beatings, at the certainty that his 
 feelings partook very much of the nature cf 
 her own. 
 
 *' He will not go — he cannot go away!" 
 she exclaimed.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 47 
 
 And yet, why should he not go ? He had 
 said nothing — not a word — not a syllable — 
 that could bind him to remain where he was 
 • — not a word that could have been questioned 
 had it been spoken by a mere casual acquaint- 
 ance. Day after day, she had had full 
 opportunities of seeing him, alone as well as 
 in the society of others ; he had never said 
 that he loved her — that he regarded her with 
 feelings different from those excited by her 
 sisters, who were almost children. And yet 
 Florence thought that she was beloved. 
 Hitherto the bliss of that conviction had been 
 sufficient for her ; but now she had been sud- 
 denly awakened from the happy dream in 
 which her senses had been wrapped for so 
 long a time, and was recalled to the realities of 
 life by her mother's conversation. 
 
 The character of Florence Brandon was by 
 no means a perfect one. Her faults were 
 few, and of a nature that might have 
 been corrected by the constant vigilance
 
 48 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of an acute observer, and the lofty steadiness 
 of a superior mind. Unfortunately these ad- 
 vantages had been denied to Florence. Lady 
 Brandon, though full of excellence, was not 
 a person of quick perception ; and though at 
 her age experience might have been expected 
 to supply the place of information, she was 
 almost as ignorant of the ways of the world 
 as when at seventeen she had left the school- 
 room to marry Sir William Brandon, the only 
 young; man with whom she had ever been 
 acquainted. 
 
 Simple and contented, Lady Brandon never 
 imagined that the same feelings might not per- 
 vade the bosom of every other woman of her 
 acquaintance. She herself required nothing 
 beyond her usual circle, with its ease and 
 affluence, and never imagined tlie possibility 
 of a similar fate presenting itself to any woman, 
 without its being gratefully accepted. In the 
 full measure of her own contentment, she 
 forgot that others might not have been en-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 49 
 
 dowed with the same placid feelings and 
 unambitious mind. 
 
 Florence was essentially different in dispo- 
 sition from either of her sisters, yet Lady 
 Brandon treated them all alike, managed 
 them all by the same rules, and expected 
 that, through the medium of the excessive 
 tenderness towards herself which they all 
 equally evinced, she should, whenever it waS" 
 requisite to exact it, receive the same passive 
 obedience from the ardent and somewhat im- 
 petuous Florence as from the shy and dove- 
 like Louisa and Mary, who were the exact 
 counterparts of herself. 
 
 Sir William Brandon was not more suc- 
 cessful in his management of his daughter^ 
 though infinitely superior to his wife in 
 worldly knowledge, as well as in the appre- 
 ciation of character. He did not at all 
 confound Florence with her more retiring 
 sisters. He saw at once the superiority of 
 her character and talents ; but, alas ! he saw 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 it chiefly through the prism of that pride, 
 which was more than ever aroused by the 
 admiration his daughter excited. 
 
 The excessive pride with which Sir William 
 Brandon was afflicted had almost constantly 
 the effect of neutralizing his other good quali- 
 ties. This feeling acquired tenfold strength 
 where his own family was concerned. The 
 honour of the Brandons, — their unsullied name, 
 — their vast possessions and ancient lineage, 
 were the constant theme of his conversation, 
 and still more of his thoughts. He looked 
 upon his beautiful daughter as one thing more 
 of which to be proud ; and though his affec- 
 tion for his children was unbounded, yet how 
 much might that affection have been increased, 
 had he regarded them with a more humble 
 feeling of gratitude to heaven for the blessing 
 which in them had been bestowed upon him, 
 and thought a little less of their worldly posi- 
 tion and grandeur! 
 
 Pride carried to this excess becomes a little-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 51 
 
 ness ; and the intelligence of Florence soon 
 detected the existence of this weakness in her 
 father's character, and prevented her from re- 
 posing that unlimited confidence in his opinion 
 which she might otherwise have felt ; for in 
 other respects Sir William Brandon was a 
 sensible man. To a disposition like that of 
 Florence, unrestrained interchange of thought 
 with a man of fair understanding would have 
 been more congenial, and the effects more 
 beneficial, than the most implicit confidence 
 reposed in any woman whose intellect was of 
 an inferior cast to her own. 
 
 Lady Brandon merely sought to govern her 
 daughter through her affections, instead of 
 endeavouring to impress her with an innate 
 sense of the beauty of goodness springing from 
 a higher motive and more sound principle. 
 She herself was constitutionally good. She 
 had no disposition to be otherwise. She had 
 never been tempted, never been tried, and 
 never imagined the possibility of Florence
 
 52 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 being differently situated, or the necessity of 
 strengthening her mind, or implanting a fixed 
 principle of religious conduct in her heart that 
 might be a sure and sufficient guide in the hour 
 of temptation. Like many other excellent 
 people, Lady Brandon was good by nature — 
 by accident — by temperament ; she could 
 scarcely help being good. 
 
 Florence (though, perhaps, she had never 
 actually thought of defining them) was per- 
 fectly aware of the main points of character in 
 both her parents ; and this, though it was no 
 excuse for her first departure from the im- 
 perative duty of a daughter, was the cause 
 that, from the moment in which she became, as 
 it were, instinctively aware that some guidance 
 besides that of her own feelings was particu- 
 larly necessary to her, she grew more and more 
 reserved in her communications upon every 
 subject which might have led to the discovery 
 of those feelings. From the moment in which 
 she first knew that she had any thing to tell^
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 53 
 
 she had shut up her secret in her own heart. 
 She was afraid^ of her father's implacable pride 
 and love of station, and she equally dreaded 
 her mother's passive obedience to his will and 
 pleasure ; and thus Florence, who was idol- 
 ized by both parents, and who in return 
 bestowed upon them the full warmth of her 
 young affections, would not confide in either 
 of them. She would not tell them that while 
 they were anxious for what they believed to 
 be for her happiness, and were fondly antici- 
 pating the moment when they should see her 
 make an alliance in every way desirable, she 
 was irrevocably attached to another, — to one, 
 who (though ignorant of his exact position) 
 she was perfectly aware would not be con- 
 sidered by them as a suitable husband 
 for her. 
 
 Florence knew that Gerald De Grey was 
 not rich ; she had often heard him say so ; 
 but her heart misgave her that this was not
 
 54 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 all. She had never been accustomed, as many- 
 girls are, to discuss the various merits of gen- 
 tlemen, their habits, and their mode of life. 
 Of Gerald's character in the world she knew 
 nothing. She had always seen him in her 
 father's house -as a friend — as a neighbour. 
 His manners were charming, and his talent 
 and accomplishments made him a most de- 
 lightful acquisition any where. Until lately, 
 this was all that Florence had thought about 
 him. But, latterly, she recollected, on several 
 occasions, a sort of nervous oppression which 
 had seized her after listening to the conver- 
 sation between him and her father, or his 
 friend Lord Saville. There had sometimes 
 been *a sort of difference of opinion, more im- 
 plied than expressed, which startled her. She 
 could not tell vvhat it meant, but the impres- 
 sion which remained upon her mind was 
 harassing and distressing, for with it came 
 the intuitive conviction that her father would
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 55 
 
 never sanction her affection for a man of whom 
 he seemed, for some reason unknown to her, 
 inwardly to disapprove. 
 
 Florence at one time thought of consulting 
 her cousin, Lady Julia, as to what line of con- 
 duct she should pursue with regard to the 
 attentions of Lord Saville, which she began to 
 feel she could not always avoid with the dex- 
 terity she had hitherto displayed. For some 
 days this idea had been uppermost in her 
 mind, and it is possible that, hurried away by 
 her feelings, she might have opened her heart 
 to the artful Lady Julia, had not the conver- 
 sation between Lady Brandon and herself 
 given a totally different current to her thoughts. 
 One little word from her mother might have 
 extracted a full confession from Florence, but 
 Lady Brandon had not spoken that word. She 
 had appeared so secure in the idea that the 
 affections of her daughter were unfettered, 
 that Florence, at the moment, had not courage 
 to court any further inquiry with regard to
 
 56 . THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 them ; and it was only her mother's words at 
 parting that had awakened her to the unhappy 
 and difficult position in which her want of 
 candour and confidence in her parents had 
 already placed her.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The next morning Florence awoke from a 
 troubled sleep with an indistinct recollection 
 of the events of the preceding evening. At 
 first she was merely oppressed by that most 
 disagreeable of all sensations, the conviction 
 that the last feeling of her mind had been that 
 of pain and perplexity. 
 
 It is misery to awake thus ; and Florence 
 laid her head down again upon her pillow, and 
 felt only the desire to remain where she was, 
 as if by so doing she could escape from her 
 own thoughts, as well as from all communi- 
 cation with others which was likely to revive 
 the recollection she vainly endeavoured to shut 
 
 out. But all her efforts were unsuccessful, 
 d2
 
 58 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 and, one by one, every word of her mother's 
 conversation seemed to fall again upon her 
 ear ; and her own duplicity in having con- 
 cealed the state of her feelings, and listened, 
 as it must have appeared, with an intention of 
 obedience to that excellent mother's advice 
 and entreaty, struck upon her heart, and 
 aroused her to the full consciousness of the 
 sin she had already committed, and the still 
 greater one she was about to commit if she 
 persisted in her silence. 
 
 Florence shuddered at the thougth of the 
 vexation and disappointment it would occa- 
 sion to her parents should she refuse to marry 
 Lord Saville ; but her heart sunk, and a dark 
 blank seemed rapidly to overspread the future, 
 as she pictured to herself her own misery, if, 
 as her mother had said, *' Gerald should go 
 away." She could not bear to dwell upon the 
 thought, and she rose and began slowly to 
 dress, while thousands of contending emotions 
 were struggling for mastery in her bosom.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 59 
 
 At last she was dressed, and she went down 
 stairs to the breakfast-room without having in 
 the least decided what she was to do or to say. 
 On entering she found, to her great relief, 
 that Gerald was not present. Lady Brandon, 
 Lady Julia Manvers, and Lord Saville, were 
 seated at the breakfast-table. Florence stood 
 for one moment irresolute, but the soft voice 
 of her mother, and the gentle look of entreaty 
 which beamed in her eyes, as she addressed her 
 daughter, touched the heart of the latter, and 
 with a bitter pang of remorse she went round 
 to the opposite side of the table to that at 
 which she usually sat, and timidly took the 
 chair next to Lord Saville. 
 
 Somewhat surprised at this sudden conde- 
 scension on the part of Florence, Lord Saville 
 ceased to give his attention to a long story 
 with which Lady Julia had been entertaining 
 him, and looked delightedly at her cousin. 
 By degrees Florence recovered some degree of 
 composure, and encouraged by her gracious-
 
 60 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ness, which, though small, was more than he 
 ever yet had managed to obtain. Lord Saville 
 ventured to entreat that she would that morn- 
 ing try one of his horses which he was very- 
 anxious she should ride ; a request with which 
 she had several times promised to comply, but 
 the performance of which she had hitherto 
 contrived to elude. 
 
 Florence, who shrunk from doing any thing 
 of which Lord Saville seemed to make a point, 
 was just going to refuse, but she looked at 
 her mother, and the same soft, entreating 
 glance met hers, she had not courage to speak 
 the word which she knew would be the cause 
 of vexation to her she so dearly loved, and, 
 turning to Lord Saville, she gave a brief and 
 hurried consent to his proposal. 
 
 His exclamation of delight was not more 
 fervent than that of Lady Julia, who instantly 
 bestowed a panegyric upon the skill of Flo- 
 rence in riding, and it was soon arranged that 
 they were to make an expedition to a beautiful
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 61 
 
 old ruin, which was one of the most pictu- 
 resque spots in the country. 
 
 Scarcely had this arrangement been con- 
 cluded, when Mr. De Grey made his appear- 
 ance. As with one rapid glance he surveyed 
 the arrangements of the breakfast- table, he 
 looked (or Florence fancied he looked) dis- 
 pleased and disappointed, and her heart smote 
 her for having, as she imagined, given him pain. 
 
 "We have just settled a delightful excur- 
 sion for to-day, — will you join us, De Grey ?" 
 exclaimed Lord Saville, with eyes sparkling 
 with such unusual joy, that Gerald instantly 
 saw that his hopes had suddenly revived. 
 
 " I shall be dehghted," replied he ; '' but as 
 it is all settled, it is clear that you did not 
 particularly want me ! " 
 
 Florence bent her head lower over her 
 plate, but Gerald saw that he was understood. 
 
 " That is always your way,'' interposed Lady- 
 Julia, " because you know that we always 
 want you. Though we settled our ride with-
 
 62 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 out you, we took it for granted that you would 
 come." 
 
 *' That makes the matter a great deal worse, 
 Lady Julia. One does not like to be thought 
 of as a matter of course," replied Gerald,, 
 laughing ; *' it makes one feel quite old, — 
 quite passe,'* 
 
 *' Florence is going to try Lord Saviile's 
 Arab, Saracen : I think he will carry her 
 beautifully/' observed Lady Julia, who did not 
 quite like the tone of Mr. De Grey's last remark. 
 
 '' Oh, indeed ! I did not know you were 
 going to ride ? '^ said he, turning to Florence, 
 who sat with her face half- averted. 
 
 '' I have promised so often — " she began, 
 as if feeling the necessity of saying something ; 
 but as she spoke she raised her eyes and en- 
 countered those of Gerald, which were fixed 
 upon her with an expression that instantly 
 deprived her of all further power of speech. 
 
 Lady Julia, however, upon whom nothing 
 was lost, instantly came to her relief.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. ' 63 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Florence, you have promised 
 so often, and always disappointed us of a ride, 
 which I am sure will be deli2;htful. You must 
 not be lazy to-day, but put on your best looka 
 to do honour to Saracen." 
 
 ** I feel dreadfully nervous about riding a 
 strange horse," said Florence, literally gasp- 
 ing for breath. She could not recover from 
 that one look of Gerald's. 
 
 " Oh ! it will go off when once you have 
 quite made up your mind to it," replied Mr. 
 De Grey. 
 
 *^And Saracen is so gentle, Miss Brandon, 
 I am sure you will not be long afraid of him," 
 observed Lord Saville. 
 
 Florence made a great effort, and replied 
 gaily to Lord Saville ; and the conversation 
 soon taking a different turn, she was enabled 
 to escape further observation, and to leave the 
 breakfast-room on the first opportunity that 
 presented itself. 
 
 She did not do so, however, before Lady Julia,
 
 64 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 too deeply interested to be a passive spectator, 
 had made herself acquainted with the real 
 state of affairs. Of the exact cause of the 
 change in the manner of Florence, she could 
 not of course be aware ; but that there was 
 a change was but too evident ; and to coun- 
 teract the effect it might produce upon Lord 
 Saville was her first object. She instantly 
 determined that the projected excursion should 
 not take place. She knew that Floi'ence never 
 rode without the company of another lady, 
 cr of her father. She, therefore, waited 
 quietly until Sir William Brandon had left 
 the house on some business at the neighbour- 
 ing town, and then, retiring to her room, 
 despatched a note to Florence, announcing 
 her sudden indisposition, and her deep regret 
 at not being able to join the party. 
 
 Such an escape was too pleasant not to be 
 seized upon with avidity by Florence ; and 
 the disappointed Lord Saville was obliged to 
 submit .with the best grace he might to see
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 65 
 
 Saracen led back again to his stable without 
 ever having had one look bestowed upon him by 
 her whom his owner was so desirous of pleasing. 
 
 Very much out of humour he and Mr. De 
 Grey went out to take a long ride, and 
 Florence was freed from all further impor- 
 tunity for the moment. 
 
 The day passed heavily to Florence. In 
 vain she attempted to rouse herself; she could 
 not shake off the consciousness of duplicity 
 which oppressed her. More than once she 
 was upon the point of throwing herself upon 
 her mother's breast, and laying before her 
 every inmost thought of her own ; but then 
 the pleading look of that dear mother's coun- 
 tenance rose again to her view, and she could 
 not endure the idea of giving her pain. Still 
 more dreadful was the conviction that the 
 disclosure of her own feelings might be the 
 signal for the banishment of one who was 
 already dearer to her than life ; for, away from
 
 66 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 him, she trembled to think what her future 
 ]ot must be. 
 
 Florence resolved to endure any thing 
 
 — every thing, rather than hasten, by any 
 act of her own, the moment when the dreaded 
 explanation must take place. Once she 
 thought of appealing to Lord Saville himself, 
 or at least of entreatiug Lady Julia's inter- 
 vention, to persuade him that his attentions 
 would never be crowned with success ; but 
 then she recollected the double indelicacy 
 there must be, in refusing beforehand the 
 affection of a man who had never made any 
 positive declaration of it, merely upon the sup- 
 position that she was beloved by another, who, 
 though so long upon terms of the greatest inti- 
 macy with her, had always been equally guarded. 
 
 Florence now felt, for the first time, that 
 it was possible she might have been mistaken 
 
 — that Gerald did not care for her; and 
 though, had this been the true state of the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 67 
 
 case, it would have freed her at once from 
 all difficulties, yet she felt her heart sink at 
 the mere supposition of his indifference. She 
 remembered his manner at breakfast, when 
 he found she had not, as she usually did, 
 waited to consult him on the subject of their 
 daily ride. Certainly he had not appeared 
 pleased ; and, as she recollected the expres- 
 sion of disappointment and reproach which 
 had filled his beautiful eyes as he turned them 
 towards her, Florence felt her heart beat wildly 
 at the conviction that such a look, if it did 
 not bespeak approval, certainly did not con- 
 vey the idea of indifference. 
 
 The whole day was thus passed in fruitless 
 endeavours to bring her mind to a state of 
 tranquillity. She wandered about, alone and 
 unhappy, and it was not till the sound of the 
 dressing-bell awakened her from the state of 
 agitation in which she had passed the day, 
 that she recollected her promise to her mother ; 
 and she hastened to dress and make her ap-
 
 68 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 pearance in the drawing-room, which she soon 
 did ; and this time all went right, when they 
 placed themselves at dinner. Lady Julia, 
 as usual, was on one side of Lord Saville, 
 and on the other sat poor Florence, looking 
 more like a culprit than an admired and 
 blattered beauty. 
 
 But in the kind voice of her father, and the 
 gentle tones of her beloved mother, as she 
 addressed her, Florence too plainly felt that 
 her ready obedience was appreciated, and a 
 thrill of agony shot through her heart as she 
 raised her eyes to Gerald, who sat exactly 
 opposite to her. It met with no answering" 
 glance, though his look was turned upon her, 
 and in the slight smile that lit up for a 
 moment his handsome countenance, a calm 
 observer might have detected more of gratified 
 vanity than tenderness for the beautiful being 
 whose every thought was read by him as ac- 
 curately as if her own hand had traced it upon 
 paper.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 69-. 
 
 It was a relief to Florence when, at last, slie 
 could escape from her harassing position, and 
 she took refuge in the evening as near as 
 possible to her mother's side ; for it was there 
 alone that she could gather sufficient courage 
 to endure the torture that such a course of 
 dissimulation inflicted upon her. Lady Bran- 
 don said nothing, but as she tenderly pressed 
 her daughter's hand, Florence, who was ever 
 inclined to act upon the impulse of the moment, 
 felt that she was capable of almost any sacrifice 
 that could ensure the happiness of her dearly 
 loved mother. But, in a few minutes after- 
 wards, Gerald was at her side, and again she 
 listened to his voice, and her newly acquired 
 resolution gave way beneath the charm that 
 it exercised over her. 
 
 " I thought you had promised to try that, 
 new duet this evening," observed Mr. De 
 Grey, in answer to the repeated refusal of 
 Florence to sing. But she was determined 
 not to move from her place during the evening.
 
 70 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 '^ I believe I did ; but I really am not well. 
 I cannot sing this evening." 
 
 '* Lady Julia appears to have quite recovered 
 her illness of this morning," said Mr. De 
 Grey. " This seems to have been a day of 
 broken promises. You are determined that 
 at all events I shall not be more lucky than 
 Saville." 
 
 Florence turned away from the meaning 
 ^mile With, which these words were accom- 
 panied. 
 
 '^ Perhaps you have no great regard for a 
 promise/' continued he. 
 
 " I assure you, you are quite mistaken if 
 you suppose so," replied Florence, rather 
 gravely. 
 
 "Then, why will you not keep yours, and 
 let me hear you sing that song? I have been 
 looking forward to it all the day." 
 
 '' I did not know that I had quite promised it." 
 
 " And is no promise binding but that which 
 is made in words?"
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 71 
 
 ' Not exactly, I think," replied Florence, 
 not knowing what to say ; for she felt rather 
 than saw the searching look that was bent 
 upon her. 
 
 " For my part," continued Gerald, '* I 
 should trust as implicitly when I had been 
 given to understand a thing by looks or 
 actions, as if I had been told it in plain 
 words. But some people are so very matter- 
 of-fact," he added, in a gayer tone ; for the 
 speaking countenance of Florence betrayed 
 rather more of emotion than he particularly 
 wished should be displayed before the as- 
 sembled party. 
 
 " If you wish it very much, — if you are 
 really anxious to hear the song, I will try 
 and sing it," said Florence, after a short 
 pause. 
 
 " Well, that is very kind of you. I should 
 like to hear it, as I think it will suit your 
 voice particularly well ; and, perhaps, I may 
 not have another opportunity of hearing it."
 
 72 THE LOYE-MATCH. 
 
 " You are not going away ? " involuntarily- 
 exclaimed Florence. 
 
 Gerald paused before he replied. Though 
 Florence had bent her head very low over 
 the work she held in her hand, it could not 
 hide the quivering of her lip, or the sudden 
 heave of that beautiful bosom which seemed 
 ready to burst the white muslin robe vv'hich 
 veiled it. 
 
 For one instant a shade of sorrow might have 
 been observed on the countenance of Gerald, 
 but it quickly vanished, and was succeeded by 
 that same half smile of gratification it had 
 worn in the morning, and which had some- 
 thing too cold and cutting in its expression 
 to be of a wholly pleasing nature. 
 
 '' I must go to my father's for a day or 
 two ; but I shall not be long away." 
 
 Florence did not answ^er ; but the deep 
 sigh that reached the ear of Gerald told him 
 what a relief to her feelings these few words 
 had been ; and, fearful of her not being able
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 73 
 
 to control the emotion under which she was 
 h\bouring, sufficiently to escape observation, 
 he left the place he had hitherto occupied 
 near her, and entering into conversation witli 
 Sir William Brandon, carelessly adverted to 
 the necessity he was under of going home 
 for a few days before he w^ent abroad. 
 
 The look of satisfaction with w^hich this 
 communication was involuntarily received by 
 Sir William Brandon confirmed Gerald in 
 his opinion. He saw that he had read the 
 family -history perfectly aright. He con- 
 tinued for some time talking to Sir William, 
 and having thoroughly satisfied himself that 
 no idea of any attachment on his part towards 
 Florence existed in the mind of her father, 
 he turned his attention towards Lady Brandon. 
 
 Though sitting very near her daughter. 
 Lady Brandon had not heard a word of. her 
 conversation with Mr. De Grey : and she 
 received the announcement of his sudden dc- 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE LOVE-MATCH, 
 
 parture with no little surprise. Lady Bran- 
 don, being quite incapable of seeing through 
 the intricacies of his character, was excessively 
 attached to Gerald. She could see nothing 
 n him but what was amiable, and having 
 no son, was very nearly as fond of him as of 
 her own children. She had been accustomed 
 to see him in her house from the first year 
 of her marriage, when he used to spend more 
 than half of his holydays at Wandesford, 
 and she looked upon him as one of the family. 
 The idea of there being any danger for her 
 daughter, in the constant society of the ac- 
 complished man of the world who had nearly 
 reached his thirtieth year, more than there 
 would have been in the wild schoolboy of 
 thirteen, never occurred to Lady Brandon. 
 She was really sorry when she found he still 
 persevered in his intention of going abroad 
 for some time, though at the moment she 
 would not have regretted a temporary absence,
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 75 
 
 as Sir William had so strongly expressed 
 his opinion of his presence being the cause 
 of Lord Saville's silence. 
 
 Lady Brandon continued for some time 
 talking of Gerald's tour, and giving him advice 
 with the most maternal solicitude. Gerald had 
 taken the chair which Florence had just quitted^ 
 and while appearing submissively to listen to 
 Lady Brandon's numerous fears and anxieties 
 concerning the danger of travelling abroad, was 
 attentively examining the countenance of Flo- 
 rence, who had been at last prevailed upon to 
 sing, by the importunities of Lady Julia and 
 Lord Saville. 
 
 The latter, wrapped in attention, was standing 
 close to the piano-forte ; but though even the 
 least note of the voice of Florence was beautiful, 
 yet now, that voice was weak and tremulous, 
 and more than once she cast an anxious glance 
 towards the place she had j ust left. She would^ 
 in fact, have given worlds to have known what 
 Gerald and her mother were talking about.
 
 76 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 But of this she was destined to remain in 
 ignorance, for Gemld stayed quietly where he 
 was, until the moment when the whole party 
 was about to separate for the night. He then 
 approached the piano-forte, where Florence 
 was apparently engaged in arranging some 
 music. 
 
 '' After all, you have not sung that song." 
 
 '* I did not think you would have heard it," 
 replied Florence, endeavouring to look very in- 
 different. 
 
 ^' I have been watching for it the whole 
 evening. There is another promise broken I 
 This has been an unlucky day. I hope to-mor- 
 row you will be more disposed to recollect your 
 promises, Florence." 
 
 ''To-morrow! why to-morrow?" said Flo- 
 rence, with a look of alarm. 
 
 *' You know it is my last day ! Will you let 
 me see you for a few minutes before I go ?" 
 
 '* Then you are really going away," replied 
 Florence, unable to repress the utterance of the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 77 
 
 idea that, ever since her mother's conversation 
 with her, had haunted her imagination. 
 
 '* Yes, I believe I must go to-monow ; but it 
 will not be for long/' added he, anxiously. 
 
 Florence looked up with a sweet, sad smile,, 
 and said, — 
 
 *' We shall miss you very much. I had no 
 idea you were going home so soon." 
 
 " I am obliged to go, but promise me you 
 will take a little walk with me. Any hour after 
 breakfast, shall I find you in the garden — your 
 own httle garden? — it will be the most quiet. 
 I cannot endure Lady Julia's incessant chat- 
 tering so early in the day. Will you promise 
 me?" added he, seeing that Florence looked 
 irresolute. 
 
 ** Yes, if I can," answered she, hurriedly. 
 
 *' If you can, Florence !" said Gerald, ten- 
 derly. 
 
 " I will then, certainly." 
 
 ** Thank you very much," replied Gerald, 
 and with a look of the deepest affection, he
 
 78 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 gently pressed the beautiful hand of Florence, 
 who turned from him to hide the emotion by 
 which she was agitated, but not before a deep 
 sigh from Gerald had reached the very inmost 
 recesses of her heart.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The first moment that Florence could manage 
 to do so without being observed, she hastened 
 to leave the drawing-room. The sudden depar- 
 ture of Mr. De Grey, it appeared, had now be- 
 come known to each individual of the party, 
 and during the few minutes she had been forced 
 to remain in the room after her conversation 
 with him, Florence heard nothing but the 
 remarks that it naturally called forth. The 
 departure of one person, where a small family 
 circle has been for some time assembled in the 
 country, becomes necessarily an object of great 
 ^inportance. 
 
 At the same hour on the previous evening, 
 tlie certainty that the hours were numbered
 
 80 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 during which Gerald was to remain an inmate 
 of her father's house, would have been one of 
 intolerable sorrow to Florence ; but now her 
 ideas had undergone a total change. She could 
 listen calmly to the words that before would 
 have pierced her heart. She longed to be alone, 
 and at last made her escape to her room, there 
 to hold unrestrained communion with her own 
 thoughts. 
 
 Amidst the mazes of their tortuous chain, there 
 was one which seemed as if instantaneously to 
 disentangle itself from tlie others, and fill the 
 whole mind and being of Florence with such 
 overpowering ecstasy, that for some time she 
 made no effort to put it aside, even for a moment, 
 but yielded blindly to the happiness it inspired, 
 which was almost too great to allow her to dwell 
 upon the consequences that might arise from it. 
 She felt assured of Gerald's affection. ISo 
 doubt now existed in her mind upon the sub- 
 ject. She would not have admitted it, even had 
 the slightest of the trembling fears which had so
 
 THE LOVE -MATCH. 81 
 
 long agitated her now attempted to obtrude 
 itself. But he had told her that he loved her, 
 though not in words ; yet had he not himself 
 taught her to hold as sacred a promise, merely 
 implied ? She could not now be mistaken ; and 
 the sensation of happiness, and relief from the 
 uncertainty in which she had so long existed^ 
 was so overpowering, that Florence wept, with 
 tears of love and gratitude towards him who 
 was the cause of that delicious change of feel- 
 ing which she now enjoyed. 
 
 By degrees, as she grew calmer, she began to 
 consider her actual position, and then, it did 
 not appear quite so free from difficulty as in the 
 first tumult of feeling she had imagined. 
 
 The certainty of Gerald's love might be all in 
 all to her, but would it go far to reconcile her pa- 
 rents towards abandoning the idea of a marriage 
 which she knew their anxiety to promote? Flo- 
 rence felt that it would not ; but still she looked 
 forward with delight to the moment when they 
 should become at last possessed of her secret. 
 e2
 
 82 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 The nature of Florence revolted from dupli- 
 city. Open and generous, upon no other sub- 
 ject could she have concealed a thought; but 
 upon this one, she had from the first been cul- 
 pably silent toward those who ought to have 
 possessed her confidence; and, by degrees, as 
 the feelino^ gained in strength, so did Florence, 
 day by day, find it more difHcult to struggle 
 with it, and the sin of concealment, if not less 
 torturing, grew at last more habitual to her. 
 Still it was with a feeling of deep joy, that she 
 now contemplated the near approach of the mo- 
 ment when there should no longer be a secret 
 between her and her parents. With the support 
 of Gerald's love, she felt she could endure 
 any thing, and she did not entertain the slight- 
 est doubt that he would be the first to advise — 
 nay, even to insist upon their sanction to his 
 addresses being obtained. She knew that there 
 would be difficulties — probably very serious 
 objections raised, as to her becoming his wife. 
 But this was a point upon which Florence
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 83 
 
 could not bear to dwell, and she therefore 
 determined to leave nothing undone to overcome 
 every obstacle that might be raised between 
 her and the object of her devoted attachment. 
 
 What joy it was to Florence, to think that by 
 her constancy and fixedness of purpose all diffi- 
 culties would at length give way. Even if years 
 should intervene, she felt in the deep devotion 
 of her soul, that the reward of Gerald's love 
 could sustain her through the most lengthened 
 or the severest trial. Relieved from the misery 
 which she had occasionally suffered, as a suspi- 
 cion of indifference on his part had crossed her 
 mind, Florence knew that she was capable of 
 any sacrifice or any privation that his circum- 
 stances might require, and that to devote herself 
 entirely to his happiness would be but to secure 
 her own. 
 
 Full of these happy thoughts of love and con^ 
 fidence, Florence arose the next morning. The 
 weight of concealment, which had so long op- 
 pressed her mind, now seemed upon the point
 
 84 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of being removed ; and, though upon this point 
 the reflections of Florence were not less self-ac- 
 cusing than before, yet, like many others, she 
 fancied that a full confession of her fault would 
 in a great measure efface the recollection of it. 
 
 Florence was not particularly accustomed to 
 sound reasoning. This was not so much the 
 fault of intellect, as the consequence of the 
 education she had received. The deeper powers 
 of her mind had never been brought into action. 
 Full of natural talent, which had been cultivated 
 to the utmost, she was brilHantly accomplished, 
 but she was more prone to feel than to think. 
 Impulse, and not reflection, was the general 
 spring of her actions. That these had always 
 been, hitherto, of the best and most noble 
 nature, she was indebted to the happy accident 
 of having been gifted with qualities of a lofty 
 and superior order, added to the most affection- 
 ate heart and endearing disposition. 
 
 But in the very warmth and ardour of her 
 nature lay the greatest danger for Florence.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 85 
 
 Religion had been taught her more as an 
 acquirement than as a guiding principle; yet 
 Florence was, what the world calls, very reli- 
 gious ; but it was a religion of outward forms, 
 blindly acceded to by a guileless heart and un- 
 thinking mind ; and not the strong and endur- 
 ing faith, founded upon mature reflection, and a 
 heartfelt conviction that, without its support^ 
 as the rule and guide of our lives, and the innate 
 consciousness, that of ourselves we can do 
 nothing, when the hour of temptation comes 
 we must surely fall. 
 
 The hour of temptation Jiad come for Flo- 
 rence, and how had she supported it? — how 
 resisted it ? It was the first temptation that, 
 in her girl's life, she had been exposed to ; and 
 had she paused, and turned to her own heart, 
 to ask, " Is this right ?" She had not done so 
 — she had yielded, not perhaps without many a 
 severe struo-o-le with herself and her better 
 feelings ; but she had yielded to the infatuation 
 of her senses, until remorse became deadened,
 
 •S6 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 in some degree, by the absorbing nature of her 
 passion. And now, hurried on by the same 
 feeling, she stood upon the brink of an abyss, 
 ready to rush blindly upon a fate, of which she 
 knew nothing — to trust herself to one, who 
 was to her, only what he chose to appear — one 
 so deeply skilled in the world's ways and its 
 vices, that she was in her simplicity but as a 
 puppet in his hands. She had asked no coun- 
 sel but from her own heart — implored no sup- 
 port from above, and no sanction from a 
 parent's love. In secret, had the warm affec- 
 tions of her young heart been bestowed — in 
 secret, had the feeling been nourished, until 
 reason and duty alike became powerless when 
 opposed to its violence ; and now in secret, was 
 she about to receive the assurance of that love, 
 for which she had already made so great a 
 moral sacrifice. 
 
 Florence had, however, felt too deeply her 
 deviation from the path of rectitude, not to have 
 suffered considerably in mind, before the event-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 87 
 
 ful day arrived, which was to bring a termina- 
 tion to her sorrows. Now that it was come, 
 she would not allow herself to dwell upon them, 
 but looked forward to her interview with Gerald 
 with the trustfulness of true affection. She 
 longed for the moment, when she should feel 
 that she had a right to ask his advice, and had 
 gradually persuaded herself into the belief that, 
 after a little time, her parents would not regret 
 her determination, when they found how deeply 
 it involved her happiness, as well as that of 
 Gerald . 
 
 The recollection of Lord Saville was very 
 painful to Florence ; but that, too, faded away, 
 as she considered the support and countenance 
 that the open declaration of Gerald's affection 
 would be to her; and she would not hesitate 
 then, to entreat the kind services of Lady Julia, 
 who could easily (as she thought) find some 
 means of softening the disappointment which 
 she knew too well Lord Saville would experi- 
 ence on hearing of her engagement.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 With a trembling and uncertain step Florence 
 left the house immediately after breakfast, to 
 seek the retirement of her own little garden, 
 where it had been arranged that the all-im- 
 portant interview with Gerald was to take 
 place. During the whole of the sleepless 
 night she had passed, slie had vainly en- 
 deavoured to stifle the voice of conscience. 
 Her heart told her that she w^as wrong, even 
 while its own weakness urged a continuance 
 in the path of error. A thousand times had 
 she repeated to herself, that she was *' only 
 going to take a w^alk Vv'ith Gerald;" she 
 could not at once reconcile herself to the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 89 
 
 idea of a clandestine meeting with him ; and 
 it was with a bitter sense of degradation that 
 she left the house to keep her appointment. 
 
 Florence had hurried over her breakfast so 
 quickly, that Mr. De Grey had only just 
 entered the room before she contrived to 
 escape from it; but one brief look had assured 
 her that the anxiety under which she laboured 
 was not confined to her own breast. She 
 was sure that he must understand, and enter 
 into her sufferings; that he must know how 
 foreign to her nature was concealment and 
 duplicity. *' He will love me more when he 
 knows all that I have undergone for his 
 sake/' was her mental exclamation ; and her 
 heart felt lightened of its sorrow. 
 
 The space that had been allotted to Flo- 
 rence and her sisters for their own garden 
 was at the end of a beautiful pleasure-ground, 
 extending for some distance from the house. 
 It was bounded by a shrubbery, which, open- 
 ing here and there, gave to view the fine
 
 "00 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 wild hills of the park beyond, while a shallow, 
 hut rapid mountain-stream ran almost round 
 the garden, and gave it the appearance of an 
 •enchanted island, being only connected with 
 the walk from the shrubbery, by a light rustic 
 bridge, that was nearly concealed by the 
 woodbine with which it was covered. 
 
 There could not be a more beautiful spot 
 than the one selected by the tenderness of 
 their mother, for the particular enjoyment 
 of her three darling children. Every thing 
 that good taste or ingenuity could devise had 
 been done to contribute to its ornament. The 
 choicest iQowers bloomed around, the most 
 beautiful evergreens had been judiciously 
 planted, so that even in winter it should never 
 have a desolate appearance, and the dark ivy- 
 leaf shewed itself, more than once, through 
 the veil of creepers and summer flowers that 
 had been thrown around it. 
 
 There was a fairy bower for each fair girl. 
 A mother's love had reared them — a mother's
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 91 
 
 hand had twined the woodbine and sweet 
 clematis, which now reached the very highest 
 branches of some beautiful old thorns which 
 grew around. It had been her happy task 
 while yet they were almost children ; and 
 as they grew up each seemed to vie with the 
 other, as to whose portion of this precious 
 spot should appear to have been most care- 
 fully tended. 
 
 Florence particularly loved that garden. 
 To her imaginative mind there was an inex- 
 pressible charm in the seclusion of the spot 
 and the wildness of the surrounding scenery. 
 Often had she spent whole hours alone in that 
 her bright and fairy land ; sometimes engaged 
 in reading, sometimes in watching the timid 
 deer as they raised their stately heads among 
 the fern, or bounded away through the glades, 
 which were only divided from the place where 
 she sat by the old park-palings. And some- 
 times, w^hen the sun came too brightly near 
 her bower, she would leave it, and seat herself
 
 92 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 by the water's edge, and ask no other music 
 than the soft ripple of the stream — no other 
 study than to watch the bright summer flies, 
 as they chased each other through the sun- 
 beams, or danced upon the mimic waves 
 beneath her feet. 
 
 And in those days was not Florence happy? 
 The same recollections now rushed upon her 
 mind, — the same question suggested itself, 
 as she paused for a moment on the bridge, 
 before entering her garden. It seemed as if 
 one more step w^ould separate for ever the 
 present from the past ; and she acknowledged 
 with a deep sigh, how very, very happy she 
 had been. 
 
 Florence moved onwards, and as she sat 
 alone in her bower, and looked around upon 
 all that she had once considered so dear, a 
 vague sense of regret, mingled with the con- 
 sciousness that such pure and simple joys 
 had now lost their charms for her. From 
 the hour that the tumult of love had entered
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 93 
 
 into her breast, all other feehngs had faded, 
 till even the recollection of them, at times, 
 seemed dim and shadowy, so absorbed was 
 every faculty in the one deep passion of her 
 soul ! 
 
 Florence sat for some minutes apparently 
 lost in reflection ; but soon a coming step 
 roused her to consciousness, and in another 
 moment Gerald stood before her. She half 
 rose to meet him, but she dared not lift her 
 eyes to his face. Had she been collected 
 enough to have examined his countenance, 
 she might have found some little difficulty 
 in defining its expression ; but she was not 
 left long in suspense, with regard to his inten- 
 tions J for, seating himself coolly by her side, 
 be said, — 
 
 *' I have not kept you waiting, I hope V 
 
 " Oh, no !" replied Florence, hurriedly; " I 
 am only just come." 
 
 " It was very good of you to be so exact.
 
 94 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 But, can you not guess what I was so anxious 
 to speak to you about ? " 
 
 '' Yes — no — not exactly ! " said Florence, 
 with a burning blush. 
 
 "You must know it, dear Florence. — You 
 must know the|deep anxiety I must ever feel 
 for you;" and Gerald took the hand which 
 rested on the table, and pressed it tenderly 
 within his ow^n. 
 
 Florence made an effort to speak, but 
 she could not, for the loud beatings of her 
 heart deprived her of the pov>er^of utterance. 
 
 *' You know," continued he, " how w^e have 
 lived together from the days of your infancy. 
 You cannot doubt my affection for you, Fio- 
 rence." 
 
 Gerald thought that he ^^\i the sudden 
 pressure of the trembling hand which he 
 still held. He paused for a moment, for 
 Florence did not answer, and her face was- 
 turned from him.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 95 
 
 '• Florence, will you not sjoeak to me ? Can 
 you think I should advise you to do any thing 
 that would not be for your own advantage 
 and happiness?" 
 
 ''Oh, no! I am sure you would not, 
 Gerald," said Florence, turning suddenly- 
 round, and the look of happy confidence with 
 which she raised her beautiful eyes seemed 
 somewhat to annoy him to whom it was 
 addressed ; yet still his voice was calm as he 
 proceeded, though there was a shade more 
 of seriousness in his manner than at first. 
 
 '* It is the conviction of this that now 
 urges me to speak to you in the manner 
 that I do. You will listen to me upon a 
 subject, to address you upon which no other 
 man would venture. Tell me, Florence, is it 
 not so?" 
 
 " Yes, Gerald, you know you are my only 
 friend, except my parents. You know I will 
 listen to any thing you say;" and Florence^
 
 96 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 overcome with sliame and emotion, at having 
 spoken so boldly, turned lier face away to 
 conceal the blushes with which it \vas covered. 
 
 ** Thank you, dear Florence! Then I was 
 not wrong in thinking that my opinion has 
 some weight with you. You know how I 
 have always loved you, and you have confi- 
 dence in me — have you not, Florence T' 
 
 ''Yes! the greatest confidence," said Flo- 
 rence, timidly. 
 
 A flash of triumph passed rapidly across 
 the countenance of Gerald, and he drew the 
 trembling^ form of Florence nearer to his side. 
 
 Agitated and half alarmed, she could no 
 longer endeavour to conceal her emotion ; and 
 the deep affection which beamed from her beau- 
 tiful eyes, as she raised them to Gerald, with 
 a look of supplicating tenderness, appeared as 
 though it would have wrought some change 
 in the fixedness of purpose he had hitiierto 
 displayed. He paused for a moment; and.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 97 
 
 as he gazed upon the lovely face before him, 
 a half sigh escaped him, and then, suddenly- 
 collecting himself, he exclaimed, — 
 
 *' Florence ! will you do what I ask you ?" 
 ''Any thing that I can do," said Florence, 
 hurriedly. 
 
 " Promise me — say you will not refuse." 
 "I will promise you," replied Florence; 
 and, as she spoke, she involuntarily clasped 
 the hand of Gerald in both of hers. 
 ^'' Then you will marry Lord Saville ! " 
 '•Gerald!" exclaimed Florence, as with a 
 look of terror she suddenly started from his 
 side. 
 
 '' Yes," repeated he, deliberately, '^ Flo- 
 rence, you ought, and you must marry him !" 
 
 Florence did not answer. For an instant 
 there was a struggle, as if she still hoped for 
 mastery over herself, but the effort was beyond 
 her power, and, with a sharp cry of agony, 
 she fell senseless at Gerald's h^i. 
 
 Few men were more experienced in the 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 various ways and character of women than 
 was Gerald De Grey ; few could have known 
 better how to distinguish the true from the 
 false — the affectation of sentiment from the 
 reality of feeling, and yet this practised 
 reader of woman's heart was totally unpre- 
 pared for the electrifying effect his own words, 
 and his own insidious conduct, had now pro- 
 duced. He expected to have been met with 
 tears, remonstrances, perhaps even with re- 
 proach j but he did not expect to find that 
 the love which he knew to be his own — the 
 affections which he knew he had, by a long 
 course of cautious and systematic attack^ 
 tlioroughly undermined, were of so violent 
 and overpowering a nature. Accustomed to 
 associate with women of his own stamp — the 
 Lady Julias of society — he knew but little of 
 the innocence and entire purity of heart and 
 purpose of such a being as Florence. And 
 he now gazed upon the inanimate form be- 
 fore him, almost with a look of fear.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 99 
 
 And yet, at this moment — a moment in 
 ■which even the sternest, who would have 
 condemned, must also have pitied — the chief 
 thought, the chief fear of Gerald — the man 
 of the world, was for himself. But a man or 
 woman of the world, in the sense in which it 
 is here applied, is a being totally devoid of 
 pity, or remorse, or any one of the kinder 
 or better feelings of our nature. Their whole 
 thought is self. The whole object of theif 
 existence, the gratification of selfish pursuits 
 or desires; and to the attainment of these, 
 whether their inclination leads them to seek 
 for the advancement of t])eir position or for- 
 tune, or the unbridled indulgence of other 
 passions, all is alike unscrupulously sacrificed. 
 
 Of this school was Gerald De Grey; and 
 as he beheld the consequences of his artful 
 and unmanly conduct, the pang of regret 
 which shot through his heart, instead of 
 having its source in the suggestions of his 
 conscience, simply arose from the fear that
 
 100 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 it might be the means of placing him in a very 
 awkward and dangerous position. He trembled 
 lest the shock might have been too great for 
 the physical strength of the poor girl, whose 
 mental sufferings he had never deemed it 
 necessary to consider, and which, to his cold 
 and bad heart, were a matter of perfect in- 
 difference. But he felt it would be most dis- 
 agreeable to himself, should tlie sufferings of 
 Florence betray the real state of her affections 
 to her family; and, with a smothered impre- 
 cation therefore on his own unskilfulness, he 
 hastily raised her insensible form in his arms. 
 
 Though at some distance from the house, 
 that part of the grounds was constantly 
 frequented: and Gerald's heart, which could 
 remain unmoved by the bitterness of sorrow 
 which could banish all sign of life from the 
 trusting creature who lay upon his breast, 
 beat quicker than even he could have believed 
 it possible, from the cowardly fear of detection. 
 At one instant he actually thought of abandon-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 101 
 
 ing her to her fate, and of leaving Wandes- 
 ford before the possibility of her recovery; but, 
 on reflection, he decided that it was far better 
 to ascertain exactly the state of mind in which 
 his victim might awake from her insensibility,, 
 and to be guided accordingly. 
 
 Where his interest was concerned, no one 
 could be more zealous than Gerald De Grey ; 
 and no mother watching over her child could 
 display more gentleness, more affectionate 
 solicitude, than did now this dark -minded 
 man towards the unhappy Florence. He 
 hung over her with the deepest anxiety 
 painted on his countenance, chafed her hands 
 and her temples, and endeavoured, by the 
 most soothing words and endearing caresses, 
 to warm back the life which, at one time, 
 seemed flown for ever. 
 
 By degrees, returning animation appeared. 
 The colour came back to her lips and cheek, 
 and, with a struggling sigh, Florence half 
 opened her eyes.
 
 102 THE LOVE MATCH. 
 
 *' Florence — dear Florence ! — Look up — 
 tell me you are better," said Gerald, in a 
 voice sweeter than the softest music. But, 
 low as it was, it seemed to reach the heart 
 of Florence, and she instantly raised her 
 head, and with a languid look, turned her 
 eyes towards his face. But in another 
 instant, the full recollection of all that had 
 passed seemed to rush back to her mind, 
 and, with a thrill of horror, she suddenly 
 started from Gerald's side, and totterino; a 
 few steps from him, pressed her hands upon 
 her brow as if to still the beatings of her 
 brain. 
 
 '^ My dear Florence, I entreat of you to be 
 more calm — try and compose yourself." 
 
 A sigh, so deep that it almost amounted 
 to a groan, was the only answer he re- 
 ceived. 
 
 '^ Indeed, you have taken too seriously what 
 I said. I did not — could not mean to hurt 
 your feelings : you know I would rather die
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 103 
 
 than do so !" And Gerald sighed, as if he was 
 very wretched. 
 
 ** You know, Florence, that I could have no 
 object but your own advantage. You are fool- 
 ishly throwing away an opportunity of forming 
 an alliance that, even for you, would be one of 
 great splendour. Lord Saville is my friend ; 
 and you, dear Florence — you know that I have 
 ever regarded you with the affection of — a 
 brother" (Florence burst into tears) ; *^ and 
 you will forgive me if I have spoken to you 
 more abruptly than I might have done, but 
 my anxiety for you both must plead my ex- 
 cuse. I never can forgive myself for having 
 caused you so much agitation. Forgive me, 
 Florence — before I go, say that you forgive 
 me I " said Gerald, in a tone of earnest 
 entreaty.. 
 
 During the course of this speech, Florence 
 appeared to have partially recovered her 
 senses ; and at its conclusion a slight ex- 
 pression of contempt passed over her coun-
 
 104 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 tenance. She turned towards Gerald, and 
 though the large tears fell fast over her pale 
 cheeks, her manner was more composed, and 
 her voice more firm than might have been 
 expected from the violence of the emotion 
 from which she had suffered. 
 
 ''Gerald, I do forgive you! I am grateful 
 — very grateful for the interest you express 
 for my future fate. What may be that fate 
 I cannot at this moment bear to dwell upon ; 
 but promise me that, under any circumstances, 
 you never will allude to what has passed this 
 day. Not only towards me must you pre- 
 serve silence, but my mother — my father — 
 they must never know of it. Will you pro- 
 mise this ? " 
 
 " Can you doubt it for a moment ?" exclaimed 
 Gerald, relieved from his worst fears by these 
 unexpected words. ''.Dear — dear Florence! 
 — what is there you could ask that I would 
 not promise ? " And Gerald advanced towards 
 her, and attempted to take her hand ; but
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 105 
 
 Florence, with a somewhat stately air, hastily 
 withdrew it, and turning from him, she drew 
 her veil closely over her face, and with one 
 hurried *' Farewell," which was scarcely 
 audible to Gerald, left the bower, and was 
 out of sight before he could recover from 
 the astonishment with which the sudden 
 change in her manner, and the decision of 
 her words, had filled him. 
 
 f2
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 When Florence left her bower, she did not, 
 as Gerald imagined, return home. With 
 rapid step, she had disappeared from his 
 sight, and urged on by the terrible excitement 
 of feeling under which she was suffering, she 
 rather flew than walked until she had reached 
 a more , sequestered part of the grounds. 
 Then, for the first time, she paused, and 
 endeavoured to compose her mind. But 
 every efTort was useless. The torture under 
 which she actually writhed was so intense 
 that the power of intellect seemed paralyzed 
 by it. Shame, remorse, and despair, by turns 
 took possession of her mind, and it was long
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 107 
 
 before she could overcome the grief with 
 which she was filled sufficiently to look 
 back upon the events which had reduced 
 her to this state of misery. One burning 
 thought alone seemed to sear her very brain. 
 She loved Gerald — loved him with all the 
 fervour of her passionate heart. She had 
 been hurried almost into an avowal of that 
 love, and he — he had rejected it — scorned 
 it — he had met her almost declaration of that 
 affection with an assurance, *' that he loved 
 her as a brother," with an earnest entreaty 
 that she would give herself to another ! 
 
 Florence wept till she could no longer 
 weep, from the bitter sense of degradation 
 which, keen as it must ever be to the heart 
 of a well-thinking woman, comes with tenfold 
 increase of anguish when inflicted by the hand 
 of those we love. 
 
 The coolness and deliberate manner of 
 Gerald in speaking to her drove Florence 
 almost to madness as she reflected upon it.
 
 108 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Inexperienced as she was, she could not but 
 be aware that, for some time, his manner had 
 not been to her what formerly it was ; and a 
 feeling of consciousness told her that, with 
 regard to herself, he was probably under the 
 same impression. And yet, until this day, 
 had he not sought, by every indirect means 
 in his power, to intimate that love which he 
 never openly expressed ? And for what pur- 
 pose ? This was a point upon which Florence 
 could not come to any decision ; but as she 
 reflected upon the endless trifles which made 
 up the sum of her belief in the existence of a 
 corresponding affection in the heart of Gerald, 
 so many things, so many acts and words of his 
 occurred to her recollection, which her usually 
 clear sense pointed out to her as at least having 
 been intended to convey and sustain that im- 
 pression upon her mind, that at last her grief 
 began in some measure to give way to the 
 sense of ill-usage that forced itself upon her. 
 But did this bring comfort to the wounded
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. " 109 
 
 spirit of Florence t Alas, no ! If there is one 
 idea more maddening than another, it is the 
 feeling of being obliged to despise one who 
 has hitherto appeared little short of perfection 
 to a trusting heart. The conviction that 
 Gerald was in some degree unworthy of the 
 love with which she had regarded him — the 
 bare suspicion that he had acted with baseness 
 towards her, drove Florence to desperation ; 
 and, excited beyond all power of self-control, 
 she hastily left the place of her retreat, and 
 paused not for an instant until she came 
 within sight of the house. 
 
 Before the door stood Gerald's horses. He 
 had then kept to his determination of leaving 
 Wandesford that day. The sight seemed but 
 to add swiftness to her movements, and hurry- 
 ing on, in another moment slie reached her 
 mother's room, and threw herself, breathless 
 and almost exhausted, into her arms. 
 
 "What has happened?" exclaimed Lady 
 Brandon, seriously alarmed by the agitation
 
 110 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of Florence. " My child, speak to me ! What 
 means this hurry, and these disordered looks ? 
 Surely something has happened." 
 
 " No, nothing !" at last replied Florence. 
 
 '* You are in a fever — your poor cheek is 
 burning," said Lady Brandon, fondly caressing 
 the head which still rested on her bosom. 
 
 " I have been walking. The sun was very 
 powerful, and I have walked fast," said Flo- 
 rence evasively, as she concealed the still 
 deeper crimson with which this want of truth 
 had dyed her cheek. " I am come to you, 
 mamma," slie continued hurriedly, as if to 
 prevent further question or remark, — " I am 
 come to tell you, that I have quite changed 
 my mind about Lord Saville. I will certainly 
 accept his proposals the moment he chooses 
 to make them. I aui ready to marry him." 
 
 Nothing could equal the delight of Lady 
 Brandon at these words ; and she clasped 
 her daughter still closer to her breast. 
 
 "My own Florence — my darling! I knew
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. Ill 
 
 you would not refuse me. Oh ! you have 
 made me so happy, and it will give such 
 true pleasure to your father. Dear — dear 
 Florence, what an angel of goodness and 
 obedience you are !'* 
 
 Lady Brandon did not hear the sigh of 
 agony which seemed to rend the bosom of 
 Florence. She could not see the look of 
 utter despair which filled the beautiful eyes 
 of her beloved child as she made this declara- 
 tion, for Florence had turned away her head. 
 
 *'When do you think he will propose?" 
 she suddenly asked, with a gesture of impa- 
 tience. 
 
 '^ I cannot tell, my love. But I am quite 
 sure he has long been waiting for an opportu- 
 nity of speaking to you ; but it would have 
 been difficult to find one between your cold- 
 ness and Lady Julia's attentions." 
 
 '' But I will not be cold any longer, mamma. 
 I will go to the drawing-room, and ask him to
 
 112 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ride with me. I will offer to ride Saracen, that 
 I am sure will please him." 
 
 *' What a sudden change !" exclaimed Lady 
 Brandon, smiling. *' I think you have taken 
 a lesson from Julia. She certainly will not be 
 much delighted at the progress you have made, 
 if it is the cause of her being obliged to give 
 up her persecution of Lord Saville. I never 
 saw any thing more indelicate than her con- 
 duct — forcing herself upon a man who does 
 not care for her. It must, however, disgust 
 him with her in the end." 
 
 " Oh ! do you think it must?" said Florence, 
 in a tone of such sadness that even Lady Bran- 
 don was struck by it, and she paused in the 
 midst of the elation with which the idea of 
 Lady Julia's discomfiture filled her in spite of 
 her natural kind feelings. She dreaded v/hat 
 she called *' the romance" of the nature of 
 Florence. If she was once impressed with 
 the idea that she was the cause of sorrow or
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 113 
 
 disappointment to her cousin, all her late 
 good resolutions stood but little chance of 
 being carried into effect. Lady Brandon 
 hastened to efface tlie recollection of what 
 she had said. 
 
 "Oh! of course, I do not mean that she 
 seriously imagines that Lord Saville would 
 marry her, she is so many years older than 
 he is. But she always finds some man to 
 persecute. I hear she did just the same at 
 Naples with Gerald De Grey, and of course 
 no one ever thought of marrying him." 
 
 What would not Florence have given at this 
 moment to have been able to articulate the 
 smallest question, as to why she should never 
 have contemplated marrying him ? But it was 
 impossible. Her tongue seemed to cleave to 
 her mouth, and her heart died within her as 
 she recollected that, but a few hours before^ 
 that thought had been her dearest — her only 
 one — the thread of her life — the mainspring of 
 all her actions ; and that now it was gone for
 
 ] 14 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ever — broken — snapped asunder, and by his 
 own band. Tlie hand to which she had looked 
 with the fullest confidence of support had 
 rudely cast her from him, and the fairy wreath 
 which her trusting love had twined, he had 
 torn and trampled upon, till nothing but the 
 withered fragments lay beneath her feet. Its 
 brightness had faded — its fragrance was gone. 
 The blooming flowers of hope had drooped as 
 the chill blast of indifference reached them, 
 they had shrunk from its blighting touch, 
 and, trembUng, had perished.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 •*' Where did you leave Florence?" asked 
 Lady Julia, as Mr. De Grey passed hastily 
 through the hall where she was standino. 
 
 *' She is walking still, I believe," replied 
 Gerald, with a searching look at the counte- 
 nance of his interrogator. 
 
 *^ Your interview with her does not appear 
 to have had the effect that at least one of the 
 party could have wished. I see by your horses 
 being ordered so early you persist in going 
 away this morning." 
 
 " I do not see what there is particularly well 
 worth staying for, unless, indeed, to watch the
 
 IIG THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 progress of your tuition of Lord Saville : a 
 propos, as you did not seem to be getting on, I 
 have been advising Florence to marry him." 
 
 '' You have not dared to do so ! " exclaimed 
 Lady Julia, in a fury. 
 
 '' Yes, certainly I have," answered Gerald, 
 with a most insulting smile. *' Pray why is 
 she not to have a chance?" 
 
 *' She shall not succeed, I am fully deter- 
 mined she never shall : and even you, Gerald, — 
 you dare not recommend her to marry another !'* 
 
 *' It is much the wisest thing she can do," 
 replied he, without appearing to notice the 
 warning her last words conveyed. 
 
 '^ It may be according to your ideas," said 
 Lady Julia contemptuously, " but you might 
 remember that it v/ould not be very beneficial 
 to my interests." 
 
 " As to that I dare say your present under- 
 taking will end in nothing. It is all very well, 
 while you have got him safely down here all to 
 yourself, but Saville is a mere boy, and your
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 117 
 
 being a relation of Florence's is quite enough 
 for him at this moment." 
 
 *' You are certainly very complimentary this 
 morning," said Lady Julia, with a look of mor- 
 tification she vainly endeavoured to conceal. 
 
 " Oh ! you know we are old friends, Julia. 
 I have witnessed the rise and fall of too many 
 of these sentiments of yours not to be pretty 
 well au fait as to what chance there is of any 
 success. So if you cannot manage him, for 
 Heaven's sake why stand in Florence's way?" 
 
 *' Because I would rather die than that she 
 should succeed — because I hate and detest 
 her!" 
 
 *' I know you do," said Gerald, coolly. 
 
 '^ And you think that I would stand by and 
 see her bear off the prize? — a mere child !" 
 
 " You certainly have the advantage of her 
 there," observed Gerald, with just sufficient of 
 sarcasm infused into his voice and smile to call 
 up a blush on Lady Julia's cheek, deep enough
 
 118 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 to be distinctly visible throngh the rouge with 
 which it was covered. 
 
 " She never shall be Lady Saville ! I will 
 never live to be trampled upon by her ! I hate 
 all these Brandons with their insufferable 
 pride !" 
 
 " You might forgive them a family failing, 
 being lucky enough to have escaped its infec- 
 tion." 
 
 Lady Julia's eyes flashed fire as she replied, 
 *' Perhaps their pride is more endurable than 
 their excessive stupidity, for that is a very con- 
 venient quality sometimes in a family!" 
 
 *' You have found it so, probably," observed 
 Gerald, whose temper not being of the calmest 
 nature, was becoming somewhat irritable from 
 the manner of Lady Julia: " I have great re- 
 spect for an observation founded on experience." 
 
 ^' Then it is a pity you do not profit by it, 
 my dear Gerald," said Lady Julia, endeavour- 
 ing to moderate her tone.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. \19 
 
 Perfectly aware that she did not dare to 
 affront Gerald — a conviction he never scrupled 
 to impress upon her by either words or manner 
 — Lady Julia's wisest plan, she knew, would be 
 to conciliate him. His friendship (or rather 
 connivance) she trembled to lose, for without it 
 she would often have found a great deal of 
 difficulty in carrying on the various schemes 
 and manoeuvres in which she was always more 
 or less involved. Affecting suddenly a tone of 
 kindness and confidence, she proceeded, — 
 
 *' You must be aware, Gerald, it is a posi- 
 tive miracle that all that has been going on so 
 long should have totally escaped the observation 
 of Sir William and Lady Brandon.'* 
 
 '* You think, then, positively, that they have 
 no suspicion?" asked Gerald, who knowing he 
 could not deceive the penetration of Lady Julia, 
 thought it better to accept the friendly terms 
 she seemed inclined to propose to him. 
 
 *' I am quite sure they have not. A few 
 days ago, I imagined »Sir William looked un-
 
 120 THE LOVE-MATCH. » 
 
 easily towards the piano-forte in the evenings ; 
 but I think last night they were quite satisfied 
 when you announced your departure." 
 
 '' Ah ! I thought so — a day later, and it 
 might not have been so easy — you women never 
 can keep your own secrets." 
 
 Something like a sigh escaped from Lady 
 Julia as she replied, " Your censure is very 
 sweeping, but I know your horror of getting 
 into a scrape. You have had a very narrow 
 escape here I can tell you." 
 
 *' Few women are so clever as you, Julia. 
 But tell me, how does Saville go on? Have 
 you really any hopes of him ? If not, why 
 should you lose any more time ? it would be 
 much better to give it up at once." 
 
 *' And leave the way open to Florence ? No, 
 Gerald, if you want my friendship or assistance 
 in this matter, do not interfere on this point. 
 You know if I can be a firm friend, T can also 
 be a bitter enemy." 
 
 No one knew this better than Mr. De Grey,
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 121 
 
 and after a few words more, in which each 
 contrived to shew the other how completely a 
 good understanding was necessary between 
 them, these worthy accomplices parted, and 
 Gerald mounted his horse and rode slowly 
 homewards. 
 
 Cleaveden Abbey, the home of Gerald De 
 Grey, was one of those favoured spots upon 
 which, not only the eye delights to dwell, but 
 where the mind seems to repose with a hal- 
 lowed feeling of content and thankfulness. 
 It had that air of independent comfort of being 
 sufficient to itself, which is so peculiarly Eng- 
 lish. The fortune of the De Greys had never 
 been on that scale of splendour, which some- 
 times, in the necessity for show and ostentation 
 which it entails, serves in some degree to 
 banish the feeling of quiet and simplicity, 
 which is inseparable from the full enjoyment 
 of domestic retirement in the country. Still it 
 was sufficiently ample to afford to its owners 
 the means of supporting with dignity a position 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 which, in the minds of many, is often to be 
 preferred to the gaudy trappings of rank and 
 wealth, — that of an old country gentleman's 
 family. 
 
 The house took its name from a beautiful old 
 tibbey, the ruins of which, seen at a little dis- 
 tance from the windows of the drawing-room, 
 added much to the effect of the rich view of 
 the adjacent scenery. It was a fine house, but 
 only sufficiently large to insure the comforts 
 of its inmates ; and if Cleaveden was not mag- 
 nificent enough to attract the notice of passing 
 strangers, at all events every thing that presented 
 itself to the eye, confirmed the assurance that 
 the first glance had given, of its being a hand- 
 some and independent property. If there were 
 no public days, which are a source of perpetual 
 annoyance ; no open house kept, which is a 
 material injury to any fortune; and no state 
 rooms, which always have a cold and comfort- 
 less feeling, at least Cleaveden Abbey could 
 boast of its handsome and well-filled library, its
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 123 
 
 cheerful breakfast - room and study, which 
 opened into two lofty and well-furnished draw- 
 ing-rooms, not too fine to be useful. And 
 then, if its owners did not delight in filling 
 every corner of their house with company, until 
 they had not a spare bed, yet they were always 
 glad to enter into all the best society the neigh- 
 bouring country afforded, and no one was 
 more famed for hospitality or cordiality of 
 reception at his own house than was Mr. De 
 Grey. 
 
 The present owner of Cleaveden was Gerald's 
 father, and was not only a true specimen of a 
 country gentleman, but also a man of very con- 
 siderable attainments. A good deal of his time 
 was now devoted to study, with which and the 
 important cares of his estate, added to the 
 delight he took in closely inspecting the culti- 
 vation of a very well-managed farm, Mr. De 
 Grey found very little leisure to regret the want 
 of the excitement of society, and except for the 
 purpose of paying visits to his friends, scarcely
 
 124 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ever left his home. He had married early m 
 life the daughter of a neighbouring baronet — • 
 a lady whose tastes and habits of life perfectly 
 coincided with his own, and whose amiable and 
 affectionate temper promised ample security for 
 the enjoyment of that first of Heaven's bless- 
 ings — domestic happiness. 
 
 Gerald was their only child, and at first the 
 delight of gazing upon his beauty, and watch- 
 ing the developement of a somewhat precocious 
 intellect, left no wish or hope ungratified to the 
 fond parents. But as years advanced, more 
 than once had they been taught by the very 
 source from which their chief joy had sprung, 
 that few of the greatest blessings which we 
 here enjoy, are totally unmixed with grief. 
 The temper and disposition of their darling 
 child, while it filled them with present sorrow^ 
 oppressed their hearts with serious alarm as to 
 its future consequences. Wayward and petu- 
 lant when unrestrained ; if once annoyed or 
 thwarted in his wishes, the boy would betray a
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 125 
 
 sullenness of disposition over which no kindness 
 or entreaty could exercise the least control ; 
 wasteful and reckless of expenditure where his 
 own pleasure was concerned, there was little 
 inclination to generosity towards others ever 
 displayed by him. As he grew up, these faults 
 did not in reality decrease, though a naturally 
 quick insight into character, and a worldly 
 tact which very early shewed itself, had con- 
 vinced him, that even to appear good and 
 amiable was a good thing ; and he therefore 
 studiously endeavoured to conceal from the eye 
 of the world what he knew would mihtate 
 against his success in it. 
 
 Perhaps it was this habit, from being adopted 
 so early, that gave to Gerald De Grey that 
 systematic caution and habit of always keep- 
 ing back his real sentiments and opinions upon 
 every subject, which became inseparable from 
 his character in after life. 
 
 It must not be supposed, because Mr. De 
 Grey himself had always found his chief happi-
 
 126 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ness ill retirement and a country life, that 
 either he or Mrs. De Grey ever contemplated 
 for a moment the possibility of their son's in- 
 heriting their love of quiet and seclusion. 
 Though, perhaps, the fond mother in secret shed 
 many tears over the anticipated moment of her 
 only child's 'departure from his home, vet she 
 never by any ill-judged tenderness sought to 
 alter or control the will of a husband whose 
 judgment she so fully respected, with regard 
 to the management of their son. Gerald had, 
 therefore, the full advantage of the very best 
 education. No trouble or expense was spared 
 to cultivate to the utmost his great natural 
 talents, and in due time he was sent to finish 
 this hitherto carefully conducted system of 
 education at Oxford. 
 
 It was during his residence there, that for 
 the first time any very serious altercation had 
 arisen between him and his doating parents* 
 No sooner did he find himself free from even 
 that slight control which their affectionate soli-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 127 
 
 citude had latterly exercised over him, than he 
 plunged at once into the midst of riot and ex- 
 travagance, and many a weary hour did he 
 cause to those who had so fondly watched 
 over his childhood. Having quitted the 
 University without any other benefit than a 
 thorough initiation into all the arts of vice, he 
 set out upon his travels abroad, in the vain 
 hope, as his weeping mother expressed it, 
 " that seeing more of the world would make 
 him a better man, and that he would be satis- 
 fied, when he came back, to live quietly at 
 home." 
 
 But alas! never was that hope destined to 
 be realized. Gerald went abroad, and returned 
 home again, but only to drain his father of 
 more and more money, in order to extricate him- 
 self from the endless difficulties in which his 
 reckless course of life continually involved him. 
 By degrees, this continued perseverance in evil 
 ways created a breach between him and the 
 affections of his parents. It was impossible to
 
 128 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 feel the same love for one, who, however the 
 world may gloss over such practices with con- 
 ventional names and disguises, always appeared 
 to their right-seeing and religious minds, as 
 steeped to the Ups in disgrace and infamy. 
 
 Still from his mother's lips no word of re- 
 proach ever reached the ear of Gerald. Though 
 sinking unxier the weight of grief which his 
 conduct continually caused her, a word of soft 
 and piteous entreaty, while the burning tears 
 coursed each other down her cheeks, had been 
 the all of reproof or bitterness with which this 
 gentle and excellent mother had ever striven to 
 reclaim her thoughtless and profligate son. 
 
 It is hardly in the nature of woman to enter- 
 tain a harsh thought or feeling against the 
 child she has brought into the world — the 
 precious one she has nourished at her breast, 
 and who has been for so many years of his 
 guileless infancy, the sunlight of all her joy, 
 the soother of all her sorrows. Recollections 
 of his childhood will force themselves upon her
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 129 
 
 even when youth's first freshness has ripened 
 into manhood, or when manhood has faded 
 into age. To a mother's heart the remem- 
 brance of the happy day when the smile of 
 that now perhaps guilty being was as light to 
 her eyes; when the sound of his voice went 
 through her heart with a thrill of gladness ; 
 when to see him, hear him, know that he was 
 there, that he was her own — her child — is ever 
 cherished and dwelt upon with delight. Come 
 what may in after life, the ecstasy of bliss 
 which the first innocence of his childish days 
 imparted to her, is unforgotten by a mother's 
 heart, and in spite of the dictates of reason 
 and conviction of mature judgment, will rise 
 up, and, as it were, plead for the offender, at 
 the very moment when that heart is wrung, 
 even to breaking, by the deep sorrow some 
 fresh fault, or oft -repeated transgression has 
 inflicted upon her. 
 
 What is there on earth so holy as the love of 
 a mother for her child ? Contrasted with it, all 
 g2
 
 130 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 other feelings appear weak, and all that bears 
 the name of love, of a selfishness nearly ap- 
 proaching to sin. The affection of a child 
 towards a parent is the only one that can bear 
 a comparison with its entire purity, and yet 
 even that is tinged by the existence of an almost 
 unconscious sense of dependence, of gratitude, 
 of imperative duty, which, from the first mo- 
 ment, is impressed upon us. As soon as reason 
 dawns upon its infant mind, a child is taught 
 to obey. But a mother's heart asks not to be 
 taught to love, to foster, to watch over the most 
 precious gift of God. It is the spontaneous 
 effusion of her whole soul. Her nature is 
 elevated and ennobled by it. Sacrifice and 
 self-denial are but visionary evils if their prac- 
 tice can conduce to the happiness of her child, 
 and in the exercise of this most heavenly and 
 unselfish feeling, all other cares seem light, and 
 all worldly anxieties full of vanity and hollow- 
 ness. 
 
 Such a love as this was the love of Mrs. De
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 131 
 
 Grey for her only child. And yet the anguish 
 his erring course of life had inflicted upon this 
 excellent parent, had caused little or no change 
 in the habits of Gerald. He imagined that he 
 loved his mother, and often her bleeding heart 
 was soothed by the assurance of it ; but Gerald 
 did not, and could not love any one but him- 
 self. Endowed with great personal beauty, and 
 a manner full of grace and sweetness, be did 
 but use these precious gifts as a veil to cover 
 the hollowness of his heart. He was a man 
 without affection ; given up to the gratification 
 of his passions, and as in the pursuit of the 
 means of such gratification, any scruples of 
 conscience, honour, or virtue would have been; 
 extremely inconvenient, he had from the mo- 
 ment he commenced his career of profligacy 
 and self-indulgence, utterly discarded even the 
 appearance of submission to any other dictates 
 beside those of his own vicious inclinations. 
 
 Once removed from his parent's eye, Gerald 
 imagined himself free from all vigilance, and
 
 132 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 forgot, or chose not to remember that All- 
 seeing One, to whom even his inmost thoughts 
 were clearly discernible. 
 
 It was a fearful and melancholy study to 
 his parents, to mark the progress of their son 
 in iniquity ; but year after year rolled on, 
 and, to the sorrow of their hearts, brought 
 no amendment. For some time past it ap- 
 peared as if a sort of tacit agreement existed 
 between them and Gerald, that other days 
 and other scenes should be as little referred 
 to as possible. How sad were the hours then, 
 how comfortless the evenings, which ought 
 to have been passed in the delights of social 
 and open-hearted confidence! A tone of 
 sorrow and reproof seemed ever to pervade the 
 conversation of Mr. De Grey, while his poor 
 mother appeared almost afraid to talk to 
 Gerald, lest some of her strict and religious 
 notions should jar against the more modern 
 and convenient creed of the man of the world. 
 
 But Gerald, however he might spurn, and
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 133 
 
 scoff at the pious and upright sentiments of 
 his parents, at least never indulged in any 
 open defiance of them by words. If he had 
 any higher motive in this, the effect might 
 have beeen perceivable in an altered course 
 of life. But Gerald was merely too well-bred 
 to contradict others, or to advance opinions, 
 in their presence, which he knew would be 
 distasteful to them. He contented himself, 
 whenever he was displeased, by infusing into 
 his usually fascinating manner a certain por- 
 tion of biting sarcasm, which generally had 
 the effect of preventing any further remarks 
 being addressed to him, and it cost him but 
 little to look with unmoved eye upon the sor- 
 rowful expression which had now become habi- 
 tual to a mother whose whole life had been one 
 long thought of love for him. Corrupted by 
 the world, he could look calmly on, and feel no 
 remorse at seeing that mother, in her old age, 
 deprived of many luxuries and comforts which, 
 from constant custom, had become as neces-
 
 134 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 saries to her. He could know that such was 
 the case, and yet never pause one moment in his 
 career of vice ; and at each return to his home 
 could bring with him fresh demands, which 
 he knew must entail still greater sacrifices 
 and privations upon those whose declining- 
 days he should have brightened and watched 
 over with tenderness. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding all this, his poor 
 mother, while she feared, loved him with 
 unfading love, and never, during the long 
 long years of trial he had brought upon her, 
 did she breathe to mortal ear the cause of 
 that sorrow which had changed to coldest 
 winter the summer of her days, or utter his 
 name, save in tones of love, or unaccompanied 
 by the expression of that deep-seated affection 
 which still glowed in her sorrowing heart.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Having satisfied herself that Mr. De Grey 
 had really quitted Wandesford, Lady Julia 
 Manvers bent her stejDS -towards the drawing- 
 room. It was deserted, and she seated herself 
 by a window which overlooked the terrace, 
 and determined to arrange her plan of pro- 
 ceeding at once. The departure of Gerald 
 was a source of the greatest annoyance to her. 
 She could now no longer hope to find an 
 occupation for her beautiful cousin, which 
 would effectually keep her at a distance, 
 while she herself monopolized Lord Saville, 
 and maintained almost a tete-a-tete conver- 
 sation with him durino- the whole evening.
 
 136 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 She knew too well that Florence would not 
 continue to sing, from the moment that the 
 gentlemen appeared in the drawing-room, now 
 that Gerald was no longer there to take his 
 part in a duet, or turn over the leaves of her 
 music-book while she sung. There was an 
 «nd, therefore, of diverting her attention in 
 that manner, and of all the comfort of their 
 quiet evenings. 
 
 Lady Julia certainly could not reproach 
 herself with having thrown away a single 
 moment of her time. Upon that point no 
 conscience could be more clear than hers 
 generally was. She could not recollect, during 
 her long experience, ever having lost an op- 
 portunity of at least endeavouring to ingratiate 
 herself with every man who could possibly 
 have been converted into a husband. No 
 pains had ever been spared by her to bring 
 about an acquaintance with such as either she 
 did not know, or who were in the habit of 
 standing rather aloof from her advances. She
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 137 
 
 had hitherto been very unlucky. She was 
 decidedly more clever than most people, and 
 yet had never had the address to succeed in 
 catching any one of the many gilded simple- 
 tons who infest society. Her Ufe was like 
 the doom of Sisyphus, always rolling the stone 
 to the top of the hill, merely to see it roll 
 down again ; and as, assuredly, this was 
 neither an agreeable nor a profitable way of 
 passing her days, an increased irritability of 
 temper was always the consequence of each 
 new disappointment. 
 
 jS^othing can equal the weariness and dis- 
 gust with which an impartial observer is filled, 
 while studying the life of one of these inde- 
 fatigable young ladies. The tact they some- 
 times display, and the patience with which 
 they almost always attend upon the move- 
 ments of the objects of their pursuit, would 
 be worthy of a better cause. There are few 
 women who do not wish, or, at some period 
 of their life, have not wished, to be married.
 
 138 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 It is the natural aim of a woman ; an idea im- 
 planted in her mind, as well by education as 
 by nature. To study to improve herself — to 
 learn what is useful, as well as what is orna- 
 mental, *' that she may make a good and 
 sensible wifej'' is frequently held out to a 
 woman as an incentive to application and good 
 conduct. Nor can such advice be deemed 
 injudicious. The person who is intended for 
 the future head of a family for the guide and 
 guardianship of children, cannot be too strongly 
 impressed with the importance of the trust 
 committed to her charge, and of the sacred 
 nature of the varied duties she ought to fulfil 
 whenever she shall be placed in that position. 
 No blame can be attached to women for wish- 
 ing to marry well, provided the means they 
 employ to effect their purpose are such as 
 they ought to be, and that they neither seek 
 to interfere with, or destroy the happiness of 
 others, or compromise at once their own, and 
 the dignity of the whole sex to which they
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 139 
 
 belong, by overstepping the bounds of modesty 
 and decorum. 
 
 Few men are so devoid of judgment and 
 penetration, as not to see through the cha- 
 racter of the advances that are made to them. 
 The undisguised admiration of a well-practised 
 coquette, bent on securing what she supposes 
 to be an advantageous alliance, is as different 
 from the sentiments of approval expressed or 
 exhibited by a modest and retiring woman, as 
 light is from darkness. In their anxiety to 
 attain their object, women often forget how 
 unlikely it is that they should be the first who 
 have had an opportunity of making a similar 
 attack ; and if it should not happen to have 
 been directed against the parties themselves, 
 that the intended victims may have silently wit- 
 nessed the same sort of siege going on against 
 some of their friends. There are many more 
 observers than actors in society ; and if any 
 thing can fill up the measure of disgust in a 
 high-minded and well-judging person, it is^
 
 140 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 to see, day after day, and year after year, the 
 same expedients resorted to, the same old 
 tricks played off, to attract and engage the 
 attention of one, that have been so often tried, 
 and been found wanting when applied to 
 others. 
 
 Who could believe that any word, look, or 
 feeling of such as resort to means like this 
 can be genuine or true? It certainly does 
 happen that sometimes after a long and 
 tedious succession of hopes and fears, such ma- 
 noeuvres are crowned with success. Whether 
 happiness is the result of success, the world 
 seldom troubles itself to inquire, though the 
 means by which it has been attained are never 
 forgotten, and the woman who has what is 
 called *• taken in a man" will be accompanied 
 by the stigma of it to her dying day. None 
 will ever dwell upon her history without 
 quoting the circumstances which led to her 
 marriage, and to the last it will ever be more 
 or less a slight upon her name.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 141 
 
 No such ideas, however, interposed them- 
 selves between Lady Julia Manvers and her 
 constant endeavours at success. That there 
 was a possibihty of it was quite enough for 
 her. Upon the whole, she was very well 
 satisfied with the progress she had made with 
 Lord Saville. He certainly appeared as if he 
 could not do without her, and generally, when 
 he entered the room where she was, he im- 
 mediately took the place by her side. She 
 forgot to calculate how much oftener she had 
 unhesitatingly, upon every possible oppor- 
 tunity, seated herself by him. 
 
 At this moment, however, Lady Julia had 
 not time to burden her mind with many recol- 
 lections of days gone by. The present was 
 of much more importance. The sudden de- 
 parture of Mr. De Grey had deranged all her 
 plans, and entirely broken up that sort of 
 quiet family-party which had been so favour- 
 able to her views. Whatever was to be done 
 must be decided upon at once. Nothing but
 
 142 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 some very clever coup-de-main could now 
 have the effect of keeping the party nearly in 
 the same state. Not one of the underhand 
 manoeuvres of Gerald had escaped her notice. 
 From the moment of her arrival at Wandes- 
 ford she had seen exactly the situation of all 
 parties, and, with the delight of a fiend, had 
 she watched the progress of an attachment 
 which, on the part of Florence, she knew was 
 sincere ; and which, she was well aware, could 
 never be productive of aught but misery to 
 the unhappy girl. But upon this idea she 
 dwelt with delight. Her hatred to her cousin 
 was a feeling so intense in its nature that she 
 scarcely would have paused in the execution 
 of any scheme which might involve her in 
 sorrow or disgrace, even should a part of it 
 have been her own portion, so consoling 
 would have been the delight of what she 
 called '^ humbling her." 
 
 For this violence of ill-will and hatred she 
 had no grounds. It was one of those feelings
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 143 
 
 which grow out of innate badness of heart — • 
 conceived by spite, born of envy, and nou- 
 rished by the gnawing consciousness of infe- 
 riority. The real foundation of jealousy lies 
 in this galling sense of another's superiority. 
 Little-minded people are always the most jea- 
 lous. It is not so much that they are in- 
 capable of appreciating the more brilHant 
 endowments of others, as that they are unable, 
 from the narrov/ness of their ignoble nature, to 
 endure the discovery of their own deficiencies 
 should a comparison be instituted between 
 themselves and the objects of their dislike. 
 But when the superiority is so prominent 
 that its existence cannot possibly be denied, 
 whether the distinction consists in talent, 
 beauty, acquirement, or in loftiness of intel- 
 lect, which lifts the fortunate possessor above 
 the commonplace characters of the world ; 
 then is every shaft which malice can feather, 
 and jealousy envenom, hurled with unsparing 
 hand against the unhappy mortal who, from
 
 144 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 the height of his greatness, unconsciously 
 points out to the grovelhng natures beneath, 
 the distance between themselves and him. 
 Then is slander busy with his name. Then 
 comes detraction, with her thousand tongues, 
 eager to pull down the edifice reared by the 
 towering mind, and supported by. public opi- 
 nion ; and, worst of all, clothed in the garb 
 of professed approval, comes the vile and das- 
 tardly insinuated doubt, creeping and winding 
 with stealthy step and cautious turn, in the 
 hope of secretly undermining the strength it 
 dares not openly to attack. 
 
 All this has its source in the meanest and 
 most abasing feelings of the human breast, 
 mortified vanity and self-love, of so virulent 
 a nature, that the wound continues to rankle 
 from the moment of its infliction, and only 
 obtains rehef in expressions of revengeful 
 bitterness. 
 
 Such was the case with Lady Julia Manvers. 
 Her bitter hatred of her cousin arose entirely
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 145 
 
 from her own envious feelings. She could not 
 forgive the superiority which she was much too 
 intelligent not to perceive. She could not en- 
 dure the contrast to herself that the presence 
 of Florence continually offered. Florence, in 
 the first bloom of youth and surpassing beauty, 
 was just entering upon life with every advan- 
 tage that position and fortune could bestow; 
 while Lady Julia could not help acknowledg- 
 ing to herself, that every day placed her 
 chance of success in effecting some brilliant 
 alliance farther back in the perspective of 
 her picture of delight, and that if something 
 fortunate did not soon occur, it would be 
 altogether lost. Day after day she marked 
 with dismay and trembling the ravages which 
 so many years of the exciting life which she 
 had led had made upon the little freshness of 
 which she had ever been able to boast. Rouj^e 
 became every day more necessary, and the 
 careful adjusting of a figure which had always 
 been too thin, more indispensable. Lady Julia 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 in her peignoir in the morning, before she was 
 made up for the day, was a very different per- 
 son from the sparkling and piquante brunette 
 she contrived to appear in the evening. The 
 hollow eye, sallow cheek, and occasionally red 
 nose, were well concealed by cand-lelight. 
 
 Aware of her deficiency in point of complex- 
 ion. Lady JuHa most heartily disliked all morn- 
 ing expeditions, and seldom appeared out of 
 doors without her veil of Brussels lace care- 
 fully drawn over her face, and it would have 
 been difficult for any one to say that they 
 ever remembered to have seen it thrown 
 back. Lady Julia had the misfortune of 
 looking older than she really was ; and the 
 fresh and delicate tint upon the cheek of Flo- 
 rence was a source of perpetual misery to 
 her. 
 
 No two people ever offered a more complete 
 contrast than did the two cousins as they sat 
 together in the breakfast-room in the full blaze 
 of the morning light. The appearance of Flo-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 147 
 
 rence was like that of a moss-rosebud newly 
 gathered. The most lovely hue of health 
 bloomed upon her cheek, and looks of love 
 and happiness beamed from her large, dark, 
 hazel eyes, while the rich hair of a sunny 
 brown fell round her face in a profusion of na- 
 tural ringlets. She was tall, but so beautifully 
 formed and proportioned, that her step was like 
 the noble tread of the deer, at once light and 
 stately. Lady Julia was undersized, but from 
 being extremely well dressed, contrived to 
 give some effect to a very moderate figure ; 
 while the studied graces and the mannerism 
 in which she always indulged, hoping it might 
 throw an air of childish glee over her coun- 
 tenance, differed widely from the natural and 
 easy gaiety of Florence, which won its way 
 irresistibly to every heart. When Florence 
 was in high spirits, it was like the gladsome 
 note of some sweet singing bird. It was im- 
 possible not to rejoice when she rejoiced ; and 
 none could feel a care when that beautiful
 
 148 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 creature, with her bounding step and beaming 
 eye, came lightly across the path that before, 
 perhaps, they were treading in weariness or 
 in sorrow. 
 
 For some time past, the countenance of 
 Florence might have been observed to vary 
 from its usual expression of contented happi- 
 ness. The fluctuations of hope, the timidity 
 of love, came mingling there, with a shade 
 of sorrow, and sometimes even with one of 
 fear, in a manner that shewed too plainly 
 that the spirit within no longer slept the 
 calm sleep of untroubled peace. 
 
 No one was better skilled than was Lady 
 Julia in reading the mind of this artless and 
 unsuspecting girl. Every emotion of he 
 fluttering heart was portrayed upon her 
 face, and hailed with delight by the wicked 
 Lady JuHa as a proof of the existence of that 
 passion which, she rightly guessed, would be 
 a feeling of no little strength or duration in 
 such a character as that of Florence Brandon.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 For some time Lady Julia remained alone in 
 the drawing-room. Lady Marwood was writing 
 letters in her own room, and Lady Brandon 
 almost always sat in the library. Lady Julia, 
 therefore, calculated upon having a good op- 
 portunity of carrying into effect the determina- 
 tion she had come to with regard to Lord 
 Saville. To lose any more time might be 
 dangerous ; and she resolved at once to excite 
 a suspicion in his mind that might put an end 
 to his attentions to Florence, which were be- 
 coming every hour more and more odious to her. 
 Full of impatience, she continued to watch 
 for every sound in hope it might be the ap-
 
 150 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 proach of the person she so much longed to 
 see ; but Lord Saville did not appear ; and 
 after a tedious hour had at length elapsed, 
 Florence entered the room, and advancino^ 
 towards her, exclaimed, — 
 
 *' Dear Julia, you will do me the greatest 
 favour if you will tell Lord Saville I want to 
 ride Saracen to-day!" 
 
 '^ Certainly, if you wish it. But I thought 
 you were afraid of him. What has given you 
 more courage than usual?" said Lady JuHa, 
 with a scrutinizing look that brought the 
 deepest blush to the cheek of Florence. 
 
 ** I am not much afraid. At all events, I 
 wish particularly to ride him. Will you ask 
 him for me ?" 
 
 *' I think you might as well ask it yourself," 
 replied Julia, who was excessively annoyed at 
 the proposal. 
 
 '' Well, perhaps it would be better," replied 
 Florence, with a look of determination that 
 positively alarmed her hearer, though the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 151 
 
 bright-red spot which seemed burning upon 
 each cheek, told the agitation she was 
 sufFering. 
 
 *' My dear Florence," said Lady Julia, 
 kindly taking her hand, *' you do not seem 
 well to-day. What is the matter?" 
 
 *' Nothing," sighed Florence, with a look 
 of intense suffering. 
 
 *' I hope not ; but indeed I am very un- 
 happy about you. Your poor hand is burn- 
 ing. Tell me what is the matter ? You 
 cannot imagine how it grieves me to think 
 you are unhappy.'^ 
 
 The look and tone of kindness with which 
 these artful words were spoken, were more 
 than poor Florence could bear. Miserable 
 and excited at the same moment, the voice 
 of sympathy found its way instantly to her 
 heart, and, overcome by her feelings, she burst 
 into tears. 
 
 With the most malicious delight, Lady Julia 
 gazed upon her sorrow ; but the moment was
 
 152 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 not yet come when she wished to possess her 
 whole confidence. On the contrary, had Flo- 
 rence trusted her with her secret, it would 
 have been very embarrassing, as she still had 
 appearances to preserve. She therefore con- 
 tinued to soothe and comfort the poor girl by 
 every endearment in her power, and by degrees 
 Florence regained her self-possession. 
 
 ** You are so nervous to-day, dear Florence, 
 that I think a ride will do you good. Suppose 
 we join Lord Saville on the terrace and pro- 
 pose it." 
 
 Florence eagerly assented ; and they pro- 
 ceeded to the terrace. Lady Julia had for 
 some time perceived that Lord Saville con- 
 tinued to walk up and down before the 
 windows, his arms folded, and to all appear- 
 ance wrapped in deep meditation. The least 
 appearance of change in his manner filled her 
 with uneasiness, and she hastened to make 
 the proposal for their ride as she had promised. 
 It was soon arrano;ed ; and in due course of
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 153 
 
 time, they set out upon the long -projected 
 excursion to visit the old ruin. 
 
 Lady Julia exerted herself to the utmost. 
 The day was beautiful, and Saracen acquitted 
 himself to the full satisfaction of his master ; 
 and yet nothing could impart the slightest 
 appearance of gaiety to the little party. Lady 
 Julia's lively nonsense remained frequently un- 
 answered ; and when Florence did try to talk, 
 her words were incoherent, and her manner so 
 wild, that Lady Julia was in an agony of fear 
 lest she should not be able to control her 
 feelings sufficiently to escape observation. 
 Every instant she trembled for the prize 
 she fancied was within her grasp could she 
 but manage to prevent any explanation be- 
 tween Lord Saville and Florence. 
 
 As it was almost impossible to calculate 
 upon the effect which her state of excited 
 feeling might produce. Lady Julia determined 
 not to lose sight of her cousin for a moment ; 
 and during the ride she kept close to her side, 
 h2
 
 154 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 and carefully noted down every word that was 
 spoken. She saw the effort it was to her even 
 to attempt any thing like conversation, and 
 more than once, with consummate tact, con- 
 trived to engage the whole of Lord Saville's 
 attention, when distracted by the apprehension 
 that the tears which gathered fast in the eyes 
 of Florence could no longer be repressed. 
 
 But in thus bestowing so much attention 
 upon one point, Lady Julia committed a fault 
 which is very common to those whose own 
 minds are made up of design and cunning, 
 — that of thinking every one but themselves 
 deficient in the power of observation. 
 Anxious as she was to ingratiate herself 
 with Lord Saville, and, if possible, to gain 
 possession of his affections, she had but a 
 poor opinion of his intellectual qualities. 
 She did not give him credit for one-half of 
 the sense or discrimination which he in reality 
 possessed. 
 
 Lord Saville was one of those persons whose
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 155 
 
 real character it is not very easy to discover 
 upon a short acquaintance. His manner was 
 cold, even to haughtiness, with strangers; hut 
 this was less from pride than from a reserve 
 which was natural to him. Though very 
 young, he was not quite so unskilled in 
 reading the human heart as Lady Julia ima- 
 gined. From the moment in which he had 
 first beheld Florence Brandon, his sole wish 
 and object had been to make her his wife. 
 But to obtain her hand alone was not suffi- 
 cient ; and though dazzled by her excessive 
 beauty, and charmed by the many fine qua- 
 lities and accomplishments she possessed, Lord 
 Saville still retained sufficient control over his 
 inclinations to make them subservient to the 
 decision of his better judgment. He had been 
 long enougrh in the world to have been made 
 fully sensible of his own advantages. He had 
 mixed much in society abroad ; and already 
 more than one scheming mother and ambitious 
 daughter had been disappointed in their en-
 
 156 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 deavours to ensnare the young heir, who, upon 
 attaining his majority, would be the possessor 
 of immense wealth. 
 
 Fortunately for himself, Lord Saville was 
 gifted with a very considerable share of plain 
 good sense. He knew himself to be an object of 
 speculation, and without falling into the usual 
 error of those so situated, and imagining that 
 every woman who sought his acquaintance was 
 actuated by some designing motive, he was 
 perfectly able to distinguish whether such was 
 the case or not. His vanity was not flattered 
 by attentions or professions whose depth he 
 could so easily fathom ; and his habits and 
 pursuits were not of a nature to reduce him 
 to the necessity of seeking society which did 
 not particularly interest him merely for the 
 purpose of passing his time. His own mind 
 was too full of resource to allow of his aban- 
 doning himself to idleness. Though fond of 
 society, he could amuse himself very well 
 without it ; and being independent of it, was
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 157 
 
 enabled to take a much more calm and clear 
 view of the variety of character which consti- 
 tute its component parts. Courted and ca- 
 ressed on all sides, he estimated the attention 
 he received at its proper value — his intellect 
 was not deceived by professions, nor his senses 
 intoxicated by flattery. 
 
 On the subject of matrimony, Lord Saville's 
 perceptions were equally lucid ; and vain were 
 all the attempts to entrap him. Many a well- 
 devised moonlight walk or midday excursion, 
 when some fair being had rashly deemed her- 
 self almost secure of having created an interest 
 in his heart, had begun in hope and ended in 
 disappointment. Lord Saville willingly joined 
 the endless parties of this sort to which he was 
 invited, and scrambled up rocks to look at 
 views, and down precipices to listen to tor- 
 rents ; and explored ruins, and lingered in 
 picture-galleries, and, in short, entered into 
 all the plans of his various tormentors with
 
 158 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 graceful readiness and civility, but it went 
 no farther ; and when, after several years 
 residence abroad, he at length returned to 
 England to take possession of his property, 
 it was reserved for him to meet with the only 
 woman he had ever seen for whom he felt that 
 he could experience a very decided preference. 
 It was through his friendship with Mr. De 
 Grey that Lord Saville had made the acquaint- 
 ance of Sir William Brandon. Gerald had 
 been his intimate friend for some time ; and 
 though, in many respects, their opinions and 
 habits diflfered widely, yet sufficient pursuits 
 remained common to both to prevent their 
 feeling that disunion upon some points 
 was an insuperable bar to their friendship. 
 Though Lord Saville very much disapproved 
 of Mr. De Grey's habits of life, yet he 
 found his society agreeable ; and even at 
 the moment that he deplored the misuse of 
 so much talent, he could not but admire the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 169 
 
 high cultivation of his intellect, his brilliant 
 conversational powers, and intimate knowledge 
 of the world. 
 
 Lord Saville felt conscious that his friend far 
 excelled him in the qualities that enable men 
 to shine in society. That easy lightness of 
 conversation which flows on without an effort 
 — that happy sparkling of wit which never 
 wounds or degenerates into flippancy — and 
 that ready perception which enables the mas- 
 ter mind to dive into the recesses of others' 
 thoughts, and seize and bring to light what- 
 ever may be best and brightest there, and 
 which otherwise might have lain dormant, 
 entangled in a web of confused ideas, or 
 crushed by the weight of a natural timidity — 
 all this belonged as it were exclusively to 
 Gerald De Grey. It was a peculiar subject 
 of admiration to Lord Saville, whose own 
 endowments were more of the solid than the 
 brilliant order. 
 
 Strange to say, no jealousy ever mingled
 
 160 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 with the feeling of his friend's superiority in 
 this respect. Upon all such points he looked 
 up to him as to a master in the art ; and partly 
 from this reason, and perhaps a little from the 
 difference in their age, there was a certain 
 degree of deference in his manner towards Mr. 
 De Grey which impressed the latter with an 
 idea of having much more control over him 
 than he really possessed. 
 
 The undisguised admiration of Lord Saville 
 for Florence had been a plausible excuse for 
 his unusually protracted visit to Wandesford. 
 Every day Gerald De Grey assured him he 
 need not be in any hurry to go away, and 
 directly or indirectly encouraged the continu- 
 ance of his attentions to her, and yet daily and 
 hourly did Gerald himself contrive to occupy 
 her attention almost exclusively. 
 
 For some time this had not forcibly attracted 
 any suspicion ; but, latterly, Lord Saville had 
 not been so inattentive an observer. The sud- 
 den change in the manner of Florence towards
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 161 
 
 himself, if at the moment it had filled him 
 with delight, had ever since been a subject of 
 painful and deep meditation. Notwithstand- 
 ing the happiness that the bare idea of her 
 preference conveyed, he felt that this sudden 
 display of it was not only unnatural, but par- 
 ticularly foreign to the ways and habits of 
 Florence. 
 
 Of Lady Julia Lord Saville had never thought 
 at all. The idea of proposing to her would 
 have appeared to him preposterous ; but her 
 incessant talking afforded him a convenient 
 shelter, from beneath which he could safely 
 listen to, afid gaze upon, the object which filled 
 his whole mind. Added to this. Lady Julia's 
 artifices had so far succeeded as to make him 
 believe her to be a firm and devoted friend to 
 her cousin ; and for these reasons alone, had 
 he endured with so much patience the perse- 
 cution which, from not being abruptly re- 
 pulsed (as had sometimes been the case), led 
 Lady Julia to hope that, by time and perse-
 
 162 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 verance, her efforts might at last be crowned 
 with success. 
 
 But upon the intentions and movements of 
 Gerald, Lord Saville could come t# no positive 
 decision. He had too frequently heard him 
 declare his aversion to marriage, to suppose 
 that he could contemplate taking a step so 
 directly in opposition to his avowed tenets ; 
 and yet, what other motive could prompt his 
 attentions to one so situated as Florence ? 
 Every thing appeared so contradictory, that 
 the more he dwelt upon it, the less could he 
 understand it. But the result of his observa- 
 tions was any thing but favourable towards his 
 growing passion for Florence. 
 
 Lord Saville's ideas on the subject of female 
 purity were of the nicest and most rigid order. 
 He could not endure the thought that she 
 whom he would gladly have chosen as the 
 companion of his life should have ever been 
 tainted by the intimate society of such a man 
 as Gerald De Grey. He knew too well the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 163 
 
 total want of principle, either moral or reli- 
 gious, with which the character of his friend 
 was imbued, — to imagine that one with whom 
 he was evidently on terms of friendship, more 
 than brotherly, should have totally escaped 
 contamination. Simplicity of thought, and 
 ignorance of evil, were to him inexpressible 
 charms. It was an essential point with him 
 that his wife should be pure in mind as well as 
 in person ; and he well knew that no woman 
 could long preserve that guileless innocence 
 which he so highly valued who was the inti- 
 mate companion of a libertine, — of one who 
 held in utter disregard every law, whether 
 human or divine, which might possibly operate 
 as a bar to his inclinations, or a check to his 
 passions. 
 
 Long before Lord Saville had entertained 
 any suspicion of the affections of Florence not 
 being free, he had determined never to make 
 her his wife while the slightest doubt remained 
 upon his mind as to the unsullied purity of
 
 164 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 her opinions. Deeply interested as he had 
 from the first moment of his acquaintance felt 
 for her, he resolved not to be led away by his 
 admiration of her beauty, but to obtain if 
 possible a clearer insight into her character. 
 
 It required no little determination on his 
 part to adhere to the resolution he had formed ; 
 but Lord Saville possessed no ordinary degree 
 of self-control, and more than once had it 
 been tried to the uttermost when he had ima- 
 gined that Florence spoke more kindly than 
 usual, or seemed more disposed to appreciate 
 his attentions. Lady Brandon's idea that he 
 did not propose to Florence because there was 
 no opportunity of doing so, was as erroneous 
 as might have been expected from one who 
 was as deficient in the commonest knowledge 
 of the world as she was blind to the variety 
 of shades in the character of those by whom 
 she was every day surrounded. There are 
 always abundance of opportunities. Where 
 people wish to understand each other a long
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 165 
 
 formal declaration is unnecessary. A look 
 that may be unseen by all others is sufficient 
 for the one whose heart silently responds, 
 while it garners up the remembrance of that 
 precious glance as its best-loved treasure. A 
 word that may seem careless or unmeaning to 
 the indifferent, will fill the longing ear with 
 rapture, and bind the soul of the listener more 
 firmly than a thousand formal professions of 
 love. All this may occur in the midst of a 
 crowd, — among the busy, or the idle, the 
 anxious, or those who are merely impelled by 
 curiosity to watch the movements of others ; 
 and yet all may remain in utter ignorance that 
 any thing particular has happened, nor dream 
 that one heart in the midst of them has silently 
 given up its Hberty for ever. 
 
 A man is never deterred from proposing to 
 a woman he likes by any such foolish reason 
 as the mere want of opportunity ; and if, after 
 having excited hopes that such is his inten- 
 tion, he takes his leave without any further
 
 166 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 communication upon the subject, the lady- 
 may be quite certain that some other more 
 rational cause existed for his silence. 
 
 Lady Brandon, however, was not of this 
 opinion, and she hailed with delight the de- 
 parture of Mr. De Grey, simply because it 
 would give Lord Saville more opportunity of 
 being alone with Florence. But the opinions 
 of Lord Saville had taken, within the last 
 few hours, a very different turn from what 
 even Florence herself imagined. He alone, 
 of all the party (always excepting Lady Julia), 
 had read aright the contending eviiotions of 
 Florence. He was now ,convinced that she 
 was not indifferent to Gerald. His mind was 
 too full of thoughts of her, his heart was too 
 anxious to allow him to be deceived. 
 
 Bitter and distressing as the discovery had 
 been to Lord Saville, with regard to his own 
 wishes, his honest and upright mind trembled 
 for the fate of the poor girl around whom the 
 deadly coils of the serpent were, he feared,
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 167 
 
 but too surely entwined. He dared not think 
 of what her future fate might be ; but his 
 heart was wrung as he looked upon the sur- 
 passing loveliness of the creature over whom 
 a man of Gerald's character seemed to exer- 
 cise unlimited control. 
 
 In the change of her manner towards him- 
 self Lord Saville merely saw an artifice, the 
 motive of which, at the moment, he could 
 not accurately determine. Florence was too 
 ingenuous, too noble to act a part which 
 Lady Julia would have managed to perfection ; 
 whether it was from pique, or from obedience 
 to her parents, or from a false idea of being 
 able to subdue one passion by trying to force 
 another in its place, he could not decide, but 
 the result was the same, even though the 
 cause might remain hidden. He saw that 
 Florence could never be to him what he had 
 once hoped that she might be, and he instantly 
 determined to fly from a presence so fascinat- 
 iijg, that in spite of his reason he felt it might
 
 168 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 be impossible to resist the temptation. The 
 sudden departure of Gerald, the subsequent 
 agitation of Florence, were so many more con- 
 vincing proofs to him, that he had not been 
 mistaken, and he determined to leave Wan- 
 desford with as little delay as possible.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 When Florence returned from her ride, she 
 found Lady Brandon ready to receive her in 
 lier dressing-room. Gladly would poor Flo- 
 rence have dispensed with even her fond 
 mother's attendance : she longed to be alone. 
 The agony of mind she endured was so violent 
 that she scarcely knew what was passing be- 
 fore her. Of one thing only she was too 
 deeply conscious : the part she was playing 
 with regard to Lord Saville, was odious to her. 
 Urged on, in the first moment of irritation, 
 against Gerald, for the cruelty with which 
 he had treated her, she had declared herself 
 willing and anxious to marry another ; but 
 
 VOL. 1. I
 
 170 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 now, that some hours had elapsed, that other 
 thoughts and other feehngs had taken the 
 place of anger and wounded pride, the natural 
 goodness of her heart, and her lofty sentiments 
 of honour and justice, resumed their accus- 
 tomed sway. She loathed herself for the arti- 
 fice of which she had been guilty, in appear- 
 ing to wish for the ride from which she had 
 just returned. In the excitement of feeling 
 she had determined upon it, but long before 
 its completion, how bitterly had she repented 
 of the meanness with which she was acting ! 
 
 Florence was too much engrossed with the 
 sorrow that weighed down her own heart to 
 observe minutely whether the manner of Lord 
 Saville was exactly what it had hitherto been. 
 Had she been more calm she might have seen 
 that in addressing her, and bestowing those 
 attentions which the circumstance of the mo- 
 ment called for, it was more that of a respect- 
 ful acquaintance than of an anxious and de- 
 voted lover. But Florence saw nothing of
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 171 
 
 all this. She only saw in him the man she 
 was endeavouring, in the most perfidious and 
 cruel manner, to deceive; and, as she rode by 
 his side, and listened to the justness of his 
 remarks, the quiet gentlemanlike tone of his 
 conversation, and the goodness which seemed 
 to pervade all his thoughts and direct his 
 actions, her heart smote her still more deeply 
 than before. Because she herself was suffer- 
 ing, why was she deliberately to endeavour to 
 involve another in her misfortune ? What 
 alleviation of her own sorrow could it be to 
 cause the unhappiness of a man who had 
 never injured her; who, on the contrary, was 
 ready to sacrifice all he was possessed of to 
 ensure her happiness? And what a return 
 was she about to make ! 
 
 The heart of Florence recoiled from such 
 a step as she silently put these questions to 
 herself. At one moment so impressed was 
 she by the unworthiness of her conduct that 
 she felt tempted to avow the whole truth to
 
 172 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Lord Saville. Too ready to act upon the im- 
 pulse of the moment, especially when im- 
 pelled by a noble or generous motive, it is 
 more than probable that had Florence been 
 alone with him she would have thrown her- 
 self at his feet, and confessed all. But the 
 ever-watchful Lady Julia was at hand to pre- 
 vent any such indiscretion, and Florence was 
 restrained from making a declaration which 
 might have had a most material influence 
 upon her after life. 
 
 Lady Julia, who knew more of the real 
 disposition of her cousin than any other per- 
 son, suffered no little alarm from being aware 
 of the possibility of such an event occurring, 
 and during the ride she never for a moment 
 relaxed in her vigilant observation of Florence ; 
 but no feeling of security entered into her 
 mind, until, having accompanied her to the 
 door of her room, she found, to her delight, 
 that Lady Brandon was waiting for her. 
 Lady Juha then hastened to change her dress
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 173 
 
 SO as to be able to resume her post of obser- 
 vation in the drawing-room, before Florence 
 should have returned to it. 
 
 But Florence was in no hurry to do so. Dis- 
 tracted by her grief, she could scarcely reply to 
 the questions addressed to her by her mother. 
 Lady Brandon perceived her agitation, but 
 no thought of questioning her as to its cause 
 occurred to her. She believed herself to be 
 thoroughly informed upon that point, and 
 forbore to add to the discomfort of her child 
 by alluding to it. She, therefore, made no 
 observation upon the altered looks of Flo- 
 rence, but talked of the ride, of the horse, 
 of the ruin, and of every thing which would 
 naturally have induced the mention of Lord 
 Saville's name. But Florence replied only 
 by monosyllables, and at length Lady Brandon 
 desisted from her inquiries, satisfied that if 
 any thing decisive had been said, Florence 
 was not able at that moment to communicate 
 it. She, therefore, busied herself in perform-
 
 174 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ing all the otBces of a waiting-maid to her 
 beloved child. She took off her riding-habit, 
 and wrapping her in her peignoir placed her 
 on the sofa, and prepared to disentangle the 
 beautiful ringlets which the ride had dis- 
 ordered. With the fondest care she smoothed 
 down the glossy hair of her child, and looked 
 with pride upon the excessive beauty that 
 was more than ever displayed by this simple 
 and negligent attire. 
 
 There could not be a more lovely creature 
 than Florence Brandon ; and more than once 
 on this very evening did the happy mother 
 repeat this to herself. After she had bestowed 
 endless little attentions which none but an 
 anxious mother would think of, she poured 
 out a cup of tea which she had prepared 
 for her darling, and brought it to the sofa 
 where she sat. 
 
 Florence, who had passively submitted to 
 all her mother's acts of fond care, now raised 
 her head as Lady Brandon stood before her.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 175 
 
 She took the cup from lier hand, and endea- 
 voured to swallow some of its contents, but 
 she could not; she felt a choking sensation in 
 her throat, and she hastily replaced the cup 
 in her mother's hand, and buried her face in 
 the cushions of the sofa. 
 
 Lady Brandon, alarmed, sat down by her 
 daughter, and endeavoured, by every endear- 
 ing expression, to restore her to calmness. 
 Florence did not weep, but heavy sighs burst 
 from her bosom as she listened to her mother's 
 words. She pressed the dear hand that so 
 fondly clasped hers ; but any other answer was 
 beyond her strength ; until Lady Brandon, 
 touched by her evident suffering, exclaimed, — 
 
 ** Dear Florence, if the idea of this marriage 
 is so painful to you, it shall not proceed 
 further — at least not at present. My darling 
 child, I cannot bear to see you suffer. I will 
 speak to your father about it." 
 
 ''Thank you, dear mamma," was all that 
 Florence could say.
 
 176 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ** It will be a great disappointment to him," 
 said Lady Brandon, with a sigh. 
 
 "Was he, then, so very anxious for it?" 
 asked Florence, in a low voice. 
 
 *'Yes, indeed, he was. I never remember 
 to have seen him so anxious about any thing. 
 He thinks very highly of Lord Saville in e^i.ery 
 way. It is a great pity that you do not like 
 him, Florence." 
 
 *' I do not dislike him — no one could dis- 
 like him. Oh ! he is much — much too good 
 for me !" exclaimed Florence, wildly. 
 
 '* Too good ! Oh, no, my child ! — there is 
 nothing too good, or good enough, for you in 
 the world ;" and, as she spoke. Lady Brandon 
 pressed her daughter's head upon her breast, 
 and covered it with kisses. 
 
 " Mamma, do not talk so if you love me !" 
 said Florence, clasping her mother's hand con- 
 vulsively between her own. 
 
 " Why should I not say so? Have you not 
 always been the dearest, best, most angel
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 177 
 
 child that ever woman was blessed with ? I 
 am too grateful to Heaven for having given 
 you to me, ray Florence, not to own it with 
 delight." 
 
 Lady Brandon's eyes filled with tears as she 
 spoke. She did not hear the stifled groan 
 which was the only answer of her unhappy 
 child. 
 
 *'Tell me honestly, Florence — is it your 
 wish that this marriage should go on ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! — no — I do not know, mamma, 
 what to do. " 
 
 "But has Lord Saville proposed to you?" 
 at last Lady Brandon ventured to ask. 
 
 "No," replied Florence; "and I fervently 
 hope he never may ! " 
 
 " And yet you own you do not dislike him. 
 Why this contradiction, Florence? If it is 
 only sorrow for leaving your home," said Lady 
 Brandon, in a trembling voice, "recollect, 
 my child, we cannot live as long as I hope 
 i2
 
 178 
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 and trust you may — you will not always have 
 a father's house to live in, and you ought to 
 marry and have a home of your own." 
 
 "Oh, mamma, I know it! but not yet! — 
 oh, not yet! — do not force me to marry yet; 
 perhaps the time may come, — but not so 
 soon," said Florence, with a shudder. 
 
 *' My own Florence," said Lady Brandon, 
 satisfied with this half admission, as she fan- 
 cied it, ''it shall be as you like. You know 
 we could not wish to hurry you. Thank you, 
 darling, for telling me exactly what you 
 wished. You are so good — so honest always 
 with me — you would not hide a thought from 
 your poor mother, who doats so upon you." 
 
 Whatever may have been the guilt into 
 which a person has been, by the weakness of 
 human nature, betrayed ; while a keen sense 
 of the hideousness of sin remains, the heart 
 still retains much of its original purity, and 
 no pang is more terribly bitter than that which
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 179 
 
 pierces it at the least word of unmerited 
 praise. A smile of approval, a word of com- 
 mendation, where conscience tells us it is not 
 deserved, is the most cruel punishment such 
 a heart can receive. 
 
 Poor Florence felt this to the uttermost. 
 Her mother's words pierced her soul with 
 anguish, and almost with a shriek she threw 
 herself upon her bosom, and clasping her 
 hands round her neck, entreated of her to 
 spare her, for that she was undeserving of her 
 kindness. 
 
 Lady Brandon hesitated. Alarmed by her 
 daughter's manner, which was so unusual to 
 her, she longed to question her still further, 
 but fear of giving her unnecessary pain pre- 
 vailed, and she returned no more to the sub- 
 ject which filled her mind. 
 
 One other prayer — one word more — and, 
 perhaps, Florence could no longer have con- 
 tained herself, and the secret of her sorrow 
 would have been confided, as it ought to have
 
 180 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 been at the first moment, to her mother*s 
 breast. But Lady Brandon, gentle and unsus- 
 pecting, did not speak that word, and only 
 entreatinor of her daughter to lie down and 
 try to take some repose before dinner-time, 
 she carefully drew the curtains so as to shut 
 out the still remaining daylight, and left the 
 room with a quick and noiseless step.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 In the meantime Lady Julia had not been idle. 
 She had, in an incredibly short space of time, 
 disencumbered herself of her riding-dress, and 
 taken her place by the fireside in the drawing- 
 room, when, to her great delight, a moment 
 afterwards. Lord Saville entered, and seated 
 himself near her. 
 
 Their conversation naturally turned, at first, 
 upon the circumstances of their ride ; but Lord 
 Saville, who, though his mind was fully made 
 up as to what his future course should be, 
 could not divest himself immediately of the 
 mournful interest he took in the fate of Flo- 
 rence, inquired of Lady Julia whether she
 
 182 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 was acquainted with the real reason of Gerald 
 De Grey's abrupt departure on that morning. 
 
 " Mr. De Grey did not think proper to in- 
 form me of all that has happened, but there 
 cannot be much difficulty in discovering the 
 reason, I fancy," replied Lady Julia. 
 
 ''Poor Gerald! I hope he is not in any 
 fresh difficulty as to money," observed Lord 
 Saville, in a tone of kindness. 
 
 *' I am afraid there is not much chance of 
 his ever being free from difficulties on that 
 score. There is a spirit of extravagance in 
 his nature that will always prevent his being 
 rich or even comfortable. That is the prin- 
 cipal reason why Sir William Brandon is so 
 averse to the marriage. His pride could never 
 bear to see his daughter the wife of a poor 
 man." 
 
 " His daughter ! What can you mean, 
 Lady Julia?" 
 
 " Is it possible that you should not have 
 perceived what is going on?" exclaimed Lady
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 183 
 
 Julia, in a well -feigned tone of amazement. 
 " But," added she, assuming an air of mystery, 
 '' I depend, dear Lord Saville, on your not 
 mentioning that I ever spoke to you upon 
 the subject. I always cautiously avoid family 
 quarrels." 
 
 " Certainly ; I shall feel bound in honour 
 never to mention your name. — But do you 
 speak of Miss Brandon ? '* asked Lord Saville, 
 with some agitation ; for the idea of having 
 been duped and deceived is never very agreeable. 
 
 ^' Of course it is Florence that I allude to. 
 I thought you must have been aware of the 
 attachment between her and Gerald De Grey, 
 as you are his intimate friend." 
 
 Lord Saville actually writhed under these 
 cutting words ; but Lady Julia having now 
 entered upon her long projected scheme, con- 
 tinued without seeming to observe his dis- 
 composure, — 
 
 ** It has been an attachment on her side
 
 184 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ever since she was a child. I do not think it 
 is quite so devoted on his part, which makes 
 me very unhappy, for she is such a sweet 
 creature, I cannot bear the thoughts of her not 
 being appreciated as she deserves to be. It 
 makes me quite wretched when I think 
 of it." 
 
 Here Julia put her handkerchief to her eyes ; 
 but Lord Saville, without appearing to remark 
 it, said, — '' I am surprised, if such is the case, 
 that Sir William Brandon does not put an end 
 to the engagement at once, that is, if he is 
 aware of it." 
 
 *' Oh, he must be aware of it. But Sir 
 William is one of those persons who think 
 themselves, and every thing belonging to them, 
 as of a distinct species. The same laws or 
 rules never could have been intended for the 
 Brandons that were destined to control the 
 rest of the universe ; they are a people by 
 themselves ; and, therefore, Sir William never
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 185 
 
 could imagine that any evil could befal a 
 daughter guarded by his name." 
 
 *' And Lady Brandon ? in what light does 
 she view this long engagement ? " 
 
 *^ Lady Brandon is a fool !" replied Julia, 
 with more asperity in her manner than was 
 prudent ; but she was instantly recalled to her 
 usual watchfulness by the sudden look of sur- 
 prise with which Lord Saville regarded her. 
 
 •' Lady Brandon, I should rather say, was 
 one of those persons who only see through 
 their affections. So devoted is she to Florence, 
 that the will of her daughter is her law. She 
 can see no fault, no imperfection in her 
 favourite child, and would not hear of contra- 
 dicting her in any wish she might form." 
 
 ^' She is, indeed, a most perfect creature," 
 continued Lord Saville, with a deep sigh, 
 which made the spirit of hatred burn with a 
 fiercer flame in the breast of Lady Julia. 
 
 " Florence is very charming," she replied, in 
 a calm tone ; '* and, for so young a person, has
 
 186 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 a great deal of decision in her character ; she 
 will not easily give up any point upon which 
 she has once come to a determination." 
 
 " There is nothing I admire more than that 
 sort of character," said Lord Saville, to the 
 consternation of his hearer. " Women are 
 not famed for stability of purpose, which I 
 have always thought was a libel on your sex. 
 I believe you are much more constant than we 
 are, and certainly much more persevering." 
 
 Lady Julia did not quite like this remark ; 
 but Lord Saville was not thinking of her, and 
 without waiting for an answer he continued, — 
 
 *^ A woman who really loves is such an en- 
 dearing creature : how beautiful is her patience, 
 her trustingness, her silent sacrifice of self! 
 It is hard that this should be so often under- 
 valued, — that such a treasure as woman's love 
 should be sought but to be cast away as worth- 
 less, after the first bloom of novelty is past. 
 What must the sufferings of a high-minded 
 sensitive woman be who has been thus treated ?
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 187 
 
 How dreadful must be her feelings, when she 
 finds their very warmth and fervour turned 
 back to feed upon the heart which, full of 
 devotion, only sought to form the happiness of 
 the beloved one, — when she finds that the 
 love, which she fancied was as her own, has 
 fleeted away like the brightness of a summer's 
 day, and that all now is dark and cheerless ! 
 There can be no misery like that. Tell me if 
 you think Florence would feel all this. Would 
 she be able to endure it? " 
 
 The stroncr emotion with which Lord Saville 
 had rapidly uttered these words, proved very 
 plainly to Lady Julia u[)on whom his thoughts 
 rested. The true character of Gerald De Grey 
 was no secret to either of them ; but Lady Julia 
 did not deem it prudent to enter into any dis- 
 cussion upon it. The bitterest jealousy rankled 
 in her heart at this new proof of the deep inter- 
 est Lord Saville seemed to take in the welfare of 
 the hated Florence. She knew the doom that 
 must certainly be her portion who leaned her
 
 188 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 faith upon such a broken reed as the affection 
 of Gerald ; and could a word have saved the 
 innocent and lovely Florence from it, Lady 
 Julia would have died before she would have 
 uttered it. 
 
 " Oh ! I do not think," she replied, with a 
 laugh, ** that Florence's devotion would go 
 quite as far as that. Perhaps she may be 
 cured of her foolish fancy in time ; but, at 
 present, any opposition would only make her 
 more determined. She is to go out in Town 
 next spring, as Sir William fancies she will 
 soon change her mind when she has seen more 
 of the world." 
 
 " I devoutly hope she may,'' replied Lord 
 Saville, with an air of solemnity, which would 
 have been very amusing to Lady Julia at any 
 other time; but just at that moment she was 
 particularly out of temper. 
 
 Expert as Lady Julia fancied herself at 
 reading the thoughts of others, she could not 
 come to any satisfactory conclusion as to what
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 189 
 
 impression her intelligence had made upon 
 Lord Saville. He had expressed but little 
 surprise, and had not shewn any resentment. 
 She expected he would have been overwhelmed 
 with both. Her sagacity was completely at 
 fault for the moment ; but the dressing-bell 
 having summoned her to other cares, after a 
 few words of unimportant conversation, she 
 retired to her own room with feelings of ex- 
 treme dissatisfaction. 
 
 Lord Saville, though he had been sufficiently 
 guarded in his manner to leave Lady Julia in a 
 complete state of mystification, was actually 
 stunned by the sudden communication thus 
 made to him. His only feeling towards Lady 
 Julia was one of extreme disgust at the open 
 manner in which she had divulged the secret 
 of an unsuspecting girl. He thought it coarse 
 and unfeeling thus to place her in the power of 
 one who was almost a stranger to her ; and 
 though all thought of a dearer tie between 
 himself and Florence was forbidden by the
 
 190 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 certainty of what he had before suspected ; 
 yet he was too deeply touched by all that con- 
 cerned her, not to grieve over the idea that in 
 the path she had chosen for herself, sorrow 
 probably awaited her ; and he quite hated 
 Lady Julia for the careless way in which she 
 had talked of her attachment, and of the 
 foibles of her family. The bitterness, too, with 
 which she had spoken of an aunt and uncle, 
 who appeared to treat her with the greatest 
 kindness, did not increase his feelings in her 
 favour; and never since her first acquaintance 
 with him had Lady Julia appeared in so un- 
 attractive a light as she did at this moment. 
 
 With what altered feelings did the whole 
 party meet at dinner on that day ! Florence, 
 who the evening before had been comparatively 
 happy, now sat the picture of woe, the bright 
 flush of fever now and then lighting up her 
 fine eyes, as she forced herself to attempt to 
 take a part in the conversation ; while her poor 
 mother, with her heart filled with sorrow,
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 191 
 
 looked first at her, and then at Lord Saville, 
 and sighed to think, that without the sacrifice 
 of her child's happiness, those hopes could not 
 be realised, which she knew were uppermost in 
 the mind of a husband she tenderly loved. 
 
 Lady Brandon grieved more for the disap- 
 pointment which she knew the decision of 
 Florence would cause to her father, than for 
 her own vexation. As yet. Sir William knew 
 nothing that could make him anxious. He 
 had more than once expressed his delight at 
 Gerald's well-timed departure, and fondly ima- 
 gined that now all would go on rightly. The 
 agitation of Florence had not escaped his obser- 
 vation ; but he merely ascribed it to a very 
 natural feeling of shyness, and had rather a 
 malicious pleasure in observing that Lady Julia 
 was not quite in her accustomed spirits ; though 
 as usual, she had contrived to place herself 
 close to Lord Saville. 
 
 The latter was seated exactly opposite to 
 Florence, and though suffering deeply, contrived
 
 192 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 to apj3ear calm. His kind and pitying heart 
 ached as he contemplated the lovely being be- 
 fore him, and he would at that moment have 
 risked his life, could he have snatched her from 
 the impending danger ; but the means were not 
 in his power. Once he thought of speaking to 
 her, of endeavouring to warn her of the precipice 
 upon which she stood. But it was impossible 
 — how could he tell the timid, shrinking crea- 
 ture, who blushed at every word her young lips 
 uttered, that he was in possession of her secret? 
 How could he, a man so little older than herself, 
 presume to give advice to one, whose father and 
 mother only appeared to disapproveof her wishes 
 in a worldly point of view ? It could not be, 
 and he must bear the agony of seeing her whom 
 he could have loved with his whole heart and 
 soul, drawn in among the eddies of the whirl- 
 pool, and perish miserably before his eyes, and 
 yet know that, had he but stretched forth his 
 hand in time, she might have been saved from 
 destruction. The customs of the world, the con-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 193 
 
 ventions of society, forbade his interference, and 
 crushed, as they often do, the noble use that 
 might have been made of the purest and most 
 generous impulses of the human heart. 
 
 Deeply did Lord Saville feel this, and though 
 from education, from habit, from deference to 
 the opinion of others, he felt himself bound 
 to submit in silence ; yet much of that bitter 
 scorn of the world, which afterwards formed a 
 leading feature in his character, took its rise 
 from this incident; and a deep-rooted hatred 
 seated itself in his heart against the artificial 
 tone of that society which seems studiously to 
 repel and deride every effusion of noble and 
 lofty feeling, while it pampers and applauds 
 the open display and dexterous use of the most 
 contemptible vices of our nature, and listens, 
 with an approving smile, to the tale of scandal 
 and the by- word of defamation. 
 
 Young, generous, and enthusiastic, Lord 
 Saville was, as yet, untainted by the world ; 
 and his was a character that was never 
 
 YOL. I. K
 
 194 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 likely to be much deteriorated by intercourse 
 with it. 
 
 As he sat before Florence, his heart was filled 
 with sorrow, and the thought of his own disap- 
 pointment was but light when compared to his 
 anxiety for her. 
 
 For one moment a gleam of hope seemed 'to 
 brighten up Lord Saville's whole being. It 
 might not be true. The story of Lady Julia 
 might have been a fabrication to serve some 
 purpose of her ow n ; for he now hated her so 
 much, that he was ready to believe every thing 
 against her. This supposition, though in exact 
 contradiction to the result of his own observ- 
 ations, was so consoling to the anxious heart of 
 Lord Saville, that he could not help for some 
 little time indulging in it. But even this last 
 hope, which, though reason declared it to be un- 
 founded, was still something to cling to, was soon 
 swept away by the conversation which ensued. 
 
 Lady Marwood, whose whole soul was wrap- 
 ped up in her rubber of whist, and the thoughts
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 195 
 
 of how and where she could obtain money, or 
 devise means by which she could make her three 
 thousand a-year answer the purposes of six, had 
 never been informed of the event which had been 
 of such importance to more than one of the as- 
 sembled party — the unexpected departure of Mr. 
 De Grey from Wandesford. But, on looking 
 round the table, she suddenly perceived that he 
 was not in his usual place. 
 
 " What has become of Mr. De Grey ? " she 
 inquired. 
 
 The question was addressed to a very tall, 
 thin man, who sat next to Florence, with a long 
 nose, and inquisitive grey eyes. He was a Mr, 
 Dickson, a near neighbour of Sir William Bran- 
 don's, and the greatest gossip in the country. 
 
 " I do not know where he may be at this 
 moment," Mr. Dickson replied, " but I fancy he 
 must be near town, if he travels at the same 
 rate he did this morning." 
 
 " Town ! why I had no idea he was going to 
 town. I wish I had known it, I had a parcel
 
 196 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 to send. Pray, Mr. Dickson, are you sure he 
 was going to town ? " 
 
 ** I cannot say for certain," replied the thin 
 man ; ''but I am pretty sure I was not mistaken 
 in the person I took for Mr. De Grey." 
 
 " Sir William, did you know Gerald De 
 Grey was going to London?" inquired Lady 
 Marwood, who could not yet get over the annoy- 
 ance of having missed an opportunity of saving 
 a few pence, by sending her parcel privately ; — 
 *' If so, I wish you had mentioned it.*' 
 
 *' I did not ask him any questions," said Sir 
 WilHam : ** he merely told me that he had some 
 business at Cleaveden Abbey, which must be 
 settled before he went abroad." 
 
 " Well, it's very strange!" said Mr. Dickson, 
 and he turned his inquisitive eyes from Sir Wil- 
 liam to Lady Marwood, and then glanced to- 
 wards Lord Saville. " I certainly think it was 
 his britzska that passed me on the road. I fan- 
 cied Mrs. De Grey might be going to town, 
 when I saw the De Grey crest and a lady in
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 197 
 
 the carriage, but her head was turned the other 
 side, so I could not see her face." 
 
 " I dare say it was his mother," hastily ob- 
 served Lord Saville, shocked at the ghastly 
 paleness that overspread the countenance of 
 Florence. 
 
 *' Well, I should have thought so ; but then 
 I did not see Mrs. Humphreys behind. I 
 looked to see if she was there, for you know 
 Mrs. De Grey never travelled in her life without 
 Mrs. Humphreys." 
 
 " Mr. Dickson, will you do me the honour to 
 drink a glass of wine ? " exclaimed Lord Saville, 
 in so loud a tone, that it made the inquisitive 
 man sit bolt upright upon his chair, before he 
 could answer the question. 
 
 " With pleasure, my lord," obsequiously re- 
 plied the gossip, who was particularly fond of 
 great people. '' Perhaps your lordship can tell 
 us where Mr. De Grey is gone? I know you 
 were once fellow-travellers, for I remember once 
 when Mr. De Grey got into that scrape at *'
 
 198 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Dickson," inter- 
 rupted Lord Saville, *' but I have got cham- 
 pagne instead of sherry. I think you said 
 sherry, I am afraid you have not got vi^hat you 
 like!" 
 
 '* Thank you — thank you, my lord ; this will do 
 very well. But as I was going to observe " 
 
 But Lord Saville had turned away his head, 
 and, by a well-timed observation to Sir William 
 Brandon, contrived to divert the attention of 
 the company towards a new subject, and in a 
 few moments Gerald and his movements were 
 forgotten — forgotten by all but one; but 
 Lord Saville, without seeming to observe, beheld 
 the anguish which these careless words had 
 added to the already wounded spirit of the un- 
 happy Florence. 
 
 In stating what he had done, Mr. Dickson, 
 the collector of country gossip for miles around, 
 had stated nothing but the truth, and what, in 
 his coarse vulgarity, he imagined to be a very 
 good joke. But the suffering which his words
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 19^ 
 
 had inflicted fell not upon the heart of Florence 
 alone; it filled the kind and feeling breast of 
 Lord Saville with the most poignant sorrow, 
 and he resolved that he would not remain 
 another day exposed to the temptation which 
 so fiercely assailed him, in the hope of warding 
 off the blow which he knew must sooner or 
 later fall upon the head of poor Florence. He 
 determined, however, that, strange as it might 
 appear, he would not mention his departure to 
 any one except Sir William Brandon. 
 
 Immediately after the ladies had quitted the 
 dining-room, Lord Saville sent for his servant, 
 and ordered every thing to be ready so as to 
 start by daylight on the following morning. 
 He then determined to yield himself up to the 
 sad pleasure of beholding for the last time the 
 woman who, while he could not but disapprove 
 of the feelings which she entertained for an 
 object unworthy of her, still had the power to 
 interest him so deeply, that all other cares
 
 200 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 seemed light when compared to his anxiety for 
 her fate. 
 
 The evening passed heavily. Lady Julia, as 
 usual, talked enough for the whole party, but 
 still nothing could dispel the gloom which 
 appeared to hangover most of those assembled. 
 There was no music, for Florence had peremp- 
 torily refused her cousin's entreaty that she 
 would sing ; and it was only when Lord Saville 
 perceived that she meditated retiring sooner 
 than the rest of the party, that he had courage 
 to seat himself beside her. But his heart was 
 too full for the commonplace phrases that he 
 would have forced himself to utter, and after a 
 few words to which Florence replied kindly, 
 though in a subdued tone, both relapsed into 
 total silence. 
 
 And yet at no moment of her acquaintance 
 with him, had Florence felt so well disposed 
 towards Lord Saville as she did at the instant 
 when she sat beside him for the last time.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 201 
 
 There is a magic power in sympathy that re- 
 quires no earthly aid to reveal. Florence knew 
 that she was understood ; that she was pitied ; 
 and her generous heart turned with gratitude 
 towards the kind and unselfish being who, even 
 if he condemned, could also feel for her suffer- 
 ings. There was a seriousness in his manner 
 that deeply affected her, and every moment she 
 more and more reproached herself for having, 
 even at the persuasion of others, trifled with 
 feelings which she knew to be worthy of 
 respect. She felt that his affections once 
 given would be deep and lasting, for she mea- 
 sured them by her own, and the idea of having 
 attempted to deceive one of whom she thought 
 so highly increased the measure of her regret 
 and self-reproach. As she rose to leave the 
 room she held out her hand to him, and the 
 low and humble words " Forgive me" fell upon 
 his ear. 
 
 " God bless and protect you!" he fervently 
 k2
 
 202 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 exclaimed. *' If you should ever want one, 
 think of me as your firmest and best friend." 
 
 " I will, — indeed I will," replied Florence, 
 almost suffocated by emotion, and she warmly 
 pressed the hand which held hers. She turned 
 from him, and as she passed away from his 
 sight, his boding heart foretold, that never 
 again should he and Florence Brandon meet 
 on earth, even with what little degree of hap- 
 piness they had parted that night.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " What do you think has happened, mamma T* 
 exclaimed Lady Julia Manvers, as with every 
 feature distorted with rage she burst into Lady 
 Marwood's dressing-room at an unusually early 
 hour the following morning. 
 
 *' How can I tell, dear Julia? you are so 
 sudden in your movements, you really distract 
 my nerves," replied Lady Marwood, who, 
 having been startled exactly when engaged in 
 the operation of putting on her rouge, had 
 pressed the cotton she held with a jerk against 
 her face, and now sat with one cheek like the 
 side of a very ripe apple, while the other dis- 
 played only its usual cadaverous hue. 
 
 '* Why only that Lord Saville has gone off
 
 204 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 this morning no one knows where, without 
 taking leave of a soul in the house." 
 
 " Well, that is extraordinary, and yesterday 
 Gerald De Grey. I think they are all in a 
 great hurry to get away. Thank goodness I did 
 not depend on any of them for my rubber ! I 
 am always sure of Mr. Dickson and Mrs. Lin- 
 wood, and there is Doctor Martin too if we were 
 in distress, — but he only plays half-crowns." 
 
 " How can you think of that vile whist at 
 such a moment? What is to be done?" 
 
 *' I am sure I do not see what we can do," 
 observed Lady Marwood. " If he is gone, it is 
 a clear proof he 3id not want to stay." 
 
 " Yes, that is very clear," said Lady Julia, 
 pertly. 
 
 " Well, my dear, I cannot help his going 
 away. It is impossible to account for the 
 fancies of young gentlemen," observed Lady 
 Marwood as she industriously applied herself 
 to the task of endeavouring to transplant the 
 rouge from one cheek to the other.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 205 
 
 *' Really, mamma, you speak so unfeelingly 
 about the matter, just as if you had no interest 
 in it, when you know such a match as Lord 
 Saville would be, is not to be picked up every 
 day." 
 
 *' Why to tell you the honest truth, JuUa, I 
 never thought you had much chance of it, but 
 to please you 1 came here, and it seems to very 
 little purpose, if he has taken flight in this 
 sudden manner. However, I have got my 
 rubber pretty regularly, which is more than one 
 can manage in all country places. I had a 
 very good night last night. I left off a winner 
 of five-and- twenty points, and considering that 
 Mrs. Linwood and I cut together almost every 
 time, that was a great deal ; as it was, she 
 trumped my best card three times." 
 
 " Oh, that odious whist!" exclaimed Lady 
 Julia contemptuously ; '' you really think of 
 nothing else." 
 
 " Why it is the best thing I can think of. 
 I have made several hundreds a year of it for a
 
 206 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 good many years. I assure you it is no con- 
 temptible thing if you manage well ; but few 
 people know how to manage the game really 
 well. Recollect, Julia, if ever you play, leave 
 off a winner, if it is only a pound. Remember 
 a pound a night is three hundred a year even if 
 you do not include Sundays, and allowing a few 
 days for being ill, or not being able to make 
 up a rubber. Another invariable rule you 
 should attend to is, never to be over-anxious 
 to pay when you have lost — wait till you are 
 asked, or else let the score run up till the end 
 of the evening, then after fifteen or sixteen 
 rubbers, very often people forget how the first 
 went — you have no idea how much may be 
 saved in this way." 
 
 *' Mamma, you will positively drive me mad 
 if you go on with your detestable lectures about 
 cards. You know I do not mean to have any 
 thing to say to them till every other hope has 
 failed. Then, I flatter myself I shall be able 
 to take my part without your directions; but
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 207 
 
 when once you begin about them you never will 
 stop till you have worried me nearly out of my 
 senses." 
 
 ** Well, well, Julia, I did not mean to annoy 
 you ; but what can I do about Lord Saville ? 
 I was going to ask him to Marwood Castle, 
 but you desired me to wait. I never know 
 what to do." 
 
 *' Of course I intended to have asked him," 
 said Lady Julia ; " but I thought it would be 
 better to wait till the last moment, and then to 
 have settled the time. Who could have 
 thought of his going off in this abrupt manner? 
 I never heard of any thing so impertinent, but 
 I suppose that detestable Florence has had 
 something to do with it — she is always in the 
 way. 
 
 *' Julia, take care," said Lady Marwood, 
 softly. " For Heaven's sake do not let any one 
 hear you say such a thing. Recollect that it 
 would be most impolitic to quarrel with the 
 Brandons just now — remember that without
 
 208 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Sir William's assistance I never can manage 
 next season in town, and there will be a year 
 lost." 
 
 '* I should not care for any thing if I could 
 once get that odious girl out of my way. I 
 never will rest until I have done so, you may 
 depend upon it," replied Julia, whose ill temper 
 and hatred of her cousin were fast getting the 
 better of her reason. 
 
 '^ Julia, I insist that you do nothing violent. 
 You know what a favourite Florence is at 
 home. If you are uncivil or unkind to her, it 
 will be the surest way of offending her father 
 and mother, and that is exactly what I wish to 
 avoid." 
 
 " Dear mamma, you quite mistake me if you 
 suppose that I should condescend to appear 
 annoyed at any thing she could do." 
 
 ** I always told you Lord Saville admirecl 
 her, but you would insist upon it that you 
 could take him away from her. Dear me, 
 what shall I do with this cheek? I never shall
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 209 
 
 get the rouge off, just give me that box of 
 white powder." 
 
 " Oh! wash it off at once/* exclaimed Lady 
 Julia, pettishly. " I want you to come down 
 with me to breakfast, as you can ask Sir Wil- 
 liam so many more questions than I can about 
 all this business." 
 
 "Wash my face!" answered Lady Mar- 
 wood, with a look of consternation ; *' my dear, 
 I have not washed my face these forty years ! 
 Thank Heaven I know better how to take care 
 of my complexion than you young ladies, who 
 wash and scrub your faces just like all the 
 housemaids and dairymaids in the country. 
 No," continued the dowager, with a look of 
 satisfaction, " I shall certainly keep to the 
 good old ways of my own time." 
 
 *' Mamma," said Lady Julia, after a silence 
 of some minutes, " we cannot stay here. I 
 shall be moped to death in this abominable 
 place now there is nothing to be done here." 
 
 " It is very easy to say we cannot stay, but
 
 210 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 pray where are we to go ? I have made up my 
 mind on one point, I will not live at my own 
 expense as long as I possibly can do otherwise." 
 
 " What can expense signify when one has 
 an object to gain?" replied Lady Julia, with a 
 look of ineffable contempt. 
 
 '* It signifies so much, that if we do not 
 economise this winter, it will be quite impos- 
 sible for us to live in our usual way next year 
 in town, and I tell you fairly, Julia, that I will 
 not give up my opera box or my guinea whist 
 for any of your mad schemes and speculations, 
 which always end in nothing. I wonder you 
 are not tired of them. You had much better 
 learn to play at cards. Then you would really 
 have a permanent interest in life, and not 
 undergo half the disappointments you now do ; 
 except, to be sure, if you had a run of bad luck 
 such as I had this year, but that does not 
 often happen. Six hundred points, and with- 
 out a bet, it really seems incredible, but thank 
 Heaven I have nearly pulled up now, and with
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 211 
 
 care and my system I expect a good winter, 
 especially if we stay in the country — people are 
 not half so sharp here. As to Mrs. Linwood 
 she never counts the points. She is a perfect 
 treasure for an adversary." 
 
 Lady Julia did not condescend to take the 
 slightest notice of all that her mother had been 
 saying. Once aware that she had got upon 
 the subject of whist, she knew it would be 
 some time before her thoughts returned to their 
 usual course; she therefore had leisure to 
 reflect upon the very disagreeable position in 
 which her affairs then stood. Even her in- 
 genuity was baffled for the moment, and she 
 could not devise any scheme whereby she might 
 regain what she feared was lost to her for ever. 
 So unexpected had been the departure of Lord 
 Saville, that she had never invited him to visit 
 them at Marwood. She intended to have 
 reserved this especial mark of favour until more 
 assured as to his future intentions ; but the 
 bird had flown while she was too carefully pre-
 
 212 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 paring her snare, and now it would be more 
 difficult than ever to effect his re-capture. 
 
 At the moment it was scarcely any compen- 
 sation to Lady Julia to remember the disap- 
 pointment that this event would entail upon 
 Sir William and Lady Brandon. To Florence 
 she well knew it would be a relief, but Lady 
 Julia's chief thought was for herself. All her 
 hopes of splendour had vanished in a moment, 
 or at least had retreated to a most discourag- 
 ing distance. It was but a weary prospect to 
 look forward to beginning the same thing over 
 again, particularly as at that moment she had 
 no victim in view ; and the approaching winter 
 with its dark days and long evenings — how 
 could she get through it? Her mother's deter- 
 mination, she knew, was not easily shaken 
 where her interest was concerned, and it would 
 require a good deal of management to be able 
 to persuade her to move from where she was. 
 Still of that Lady Julia did not despair; and in 
 other points Lady Marwood was very manage-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 213 
 
 able, as from not caring in the least about any- 
 thing but herself, she generally said and did 
 exactly what her daughter desired when it did 
 not interfere with her own interests. 
 
 But though Lady Marwood constantly lent 
 herself to her daughter's schemes, she did not 
 in the least indulge in any sanguine expecta- 
 tion of their success. For a great many years 
 it had been no little consolation to observe 
 their repeated failure. The last thing that she 
 wished was, that her daughter should marry. 
 Perhaps if it had taken place upon her first 
 coming out, she might have rejoiced at it, but 
 now it was exactly the reverse. She could not 
 bear the idea of being left alone. Lady Julia 
 was admired, sought for, and made a most 
 agreeable addition to society, which Lady Mar- 
 wood knew was a certain degree of attraction 
 to her house, and she piqued herself on having 
 her parties reckoned lively and entertaining. 
 Her daughter's presence, to a certain degree, 
 enabled her to escape from the reception of
 
 214 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 company, and thereby to devote more of her 
 attention to her cards. All this would not 
 have been so well arranged had Lady Julia 
 married, and for these weighty reasons her 
 mother fervently hoped that she might never 
 do so. 
 
 Lady Marwood had beheld with great indif- 
 ference her daughter's violent attack upon Lord 
 Saville ; for she was quite shrewd enough to per- 
 ceive that Lord Saville's thoughts were fully 
 occupied by Florence ; and it certainly required 
 the courage and perseverance of a Lady Julia 
 to attempt the conquest of a man at the very 
 moment when his heart appeared devoted to 
 another. But Lady Julia, if she wanted attrac- 
 tion, certainly did not want assurance, to enable 
 Jier to carry her point. She had heard of such 
 things having been effected by others, and 
 always hoped it might come to her turn. 
 
 She now sat in her mother's dressingr-room 
 the very picture of discontent and ill-temper. 
 The contracted lip and sullen brow did not
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 215 
 
 enhance the charms of a countenance whose 
 only attraction lay in the ready smile and look 
 of vivacity with which it was continually 
 lighted up when she had an object in view. 
 
 ^* Julia, my dear, how cross you look!" 
 observed Lady Marwood, who was never very 
 tender in the treatment of her daughter's feel- 
 ings. *' It is not very becoming I can tell you. 
 I insist on your not looking out of spirits at 
 breakfast." 
 
 *' Of course I shall not : I know very well 
 how I ought to look. But, mamma," she con- 
 tinued, brightening up, '* mind you find out 
 exactly where Lord Saville is gone, and why he 
 went in such a hurry. You must leave no- 
 thing undone to find it all out exactly." 
 
 " I will do all I can, my dear; but you know 
 Sir William is not particularly communicative, 
 and I am not going to annoy him about such 
 nonsense when I intend to stay here for the 
 next two months, and then ask him for some 
 money." 
 
 ** I am sure T would give you a good deal if
 
 216 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 I had it to get away from this abominable 
 place. I do hate all their grandeur and parade, 
 and their state rooms and nonsense. They 
 seem to consider no one but themselves worth 
 thinking about." 
 
 *' The Brandons were always rather proud," 
 replied Lady Marwood, drawing herself up, 
 " and the house is certainly splendid." 
 
 '' Oh! it would do very well if it was full of 
 company, but by oneself it is wretched. Those 
 great galleries and staircases I am afraid to 
 walk through them at night." . 
 
 " Well, I own it is not very lively, and 
 now Mr. De Grey is gone I suppose there 
 will be no music. I do not dislike music 
 when I am at whist, if it is not too near. It 
 does to talk about between the deals, and 
 people constantly forget to mark the game 
 while it is going on. Mrs. Linwood regularly 
 does." 
 
 " Mind, mamma, that on no account you 
 mention any thing about Mr. De Grey's travel- 
 lino; vvith that vile Frenchwoman.'*
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 217 
 
 « ** What Frenchwoman, my dear ? I never 
 heard of any." 
 
 " Oh! only some opera-dancer he brought 
 over ; but I do not want them to know any 
 thing about it here." 
 
 •* Of course not; but how do you know any 
 thing of such a person, Juha? It is very dis- 
 gusting: really young ladies nowadays know 
 so many things they ought to be ignorant of! 
 In my day they were not quite so well in- 
 formed;" and Lady Marvvood, who conceived 
 herself to have been always a pattern of pro- 
 priety, drew herself up with a very dignified air. 
 
 ** Nonsense ! " exclaimed Lady Julia ; *' why 
 every one must have heard it yesterday at din- 
 ner. Did you not hear Mr. Dickson saying 
 that he met them on the road, — only Sir William 
 and Lady Brandon never hear or see any 
 thing; ?" 
 
 " I do not want to know any thing more 
 about it," said Lady Marwood, giving the final 
 touch to her cheeks: '* how do you think this 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 cap sits ? I am not quite sure that red lilac is 
 becoming in ribands, though it is the only 
 shade that looks well at night." 
 
 '* Oh ! it will do very well," said Julia, in 
 the most disrespectful tone ; '' do finish dress- 
 ing and come down, — I have been waiting this 
 hour for you." 
 
 Lady Marwood most obediently hastened to 
 conclude her toilet, and the two ladies de- 
 scended to the breakfast-room.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " I FORGOT to tell you, mamma, to be sure to 
 find out whether Lord Saville said any thing to 
 Florence in the shape of a proposal," whispered 
 Lady Julia to her mother as she paused with 
 her hand on the lock of the breakfast-room 
 door. 
 
 " Dear me! how tiresome you are Julia with 
 your directions, at least do let me get some 
 breakfast;" and Lady Marwood,in no very placid 
 mood, made her way into the room. But to 
 their great surprise it was empty, and the table 
 bore no traces of any one's presence that morn- 
 ing. Breakfast was not at Wandesford the 
 happy, independent proceeding it now is.
 
 220 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 People did not breakfast by accident at any 
 moment from ten till two, but exactly as the 
 first-mentioned hour struck, Sir William Bran- 
 don, who was exceedingly tenacious upon such 
 points, made his appearance, and expected that 
 all his family should do the same. 
 
 In vain had Lady Julia, who hated every 
 thing that her uncle liked, endeavoured to 
 upset this long-established rule. In vain had 
 she come down late day after day, and at other 
 times insisted upon breakfasting in her own 
 room, the only result she obtained, was being 
 secure of a solitary or a half-cold breakfast, 
 for Sir William did not deign to take the least 
 notice of her airs, much less to alter any of 
 his arrangements to suit her taste. 
 
 This day, from the protracted conversation 
 in Lady Marwood's dressing-room, the two 
 ladies did not appear till much beyond the 
 usual time, and their astonishment knew no 
 bounds when they perceived the wonderful
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 221 
 
 innovation that appeared to have taken place 
 in Sir William's favourite arrangement. 
 
 ** Why, it looks as if Lord Saville had taken 
 away the whole of the family with him!*' ex- 
 claimed Lady Marwood. *' Julia, pray ring 
 the bell, and let us find out the cause of this 
 wonder !" 
 
 But before Lady Julia could obey, Lady 
 Brandon entered the room, and even Lady 
 Marwood was shocked at the visible suffering 
 portrayed upon her countenance. 
 
 *^ Good heavens! what is the matter?" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " My child 1 — my poor child ! " was the only 
 answer poor Lady Brandon could make ; and it 
 was not till after a violent burst of tears had 
 somewhat relieved her, that she could gain 
 sufficient strength to inform Lady Marwood of 
 the sudden and dangerous illness with which 
 Florence had been seized. She had been 
 attacked, shortly after retiring for the night,
 
 222 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 with violent shivering fits, and the physician 
 who was called in pronounced her in a most 
 alarming state of fever. 
 
 The word " fever" had no sooner escaped 
 the lips of the unhappy mother, than Lady 
 Marwood, who, though very indifferent to the 
 sufferings of others, was peculiarly sensitive at 
 the approach even of imaginary danger to her- 
 self, exclaimed, — 
 
 " Good heavens ! Fever ! what sort of 
 fever? — Typhus — scarlet fever? Oh! what 
 shall I do? I shall certainly catch it!" 
 
 '* It may not be catching, mamma," observed 
 Lady Julia, who was ashamed, less of her 
 mother's want of feeling than of so glaring a 
 display of it. 
 
 " Oh, yes it is! all fevers are catching — 
 there is nothing I am so afraid of. What shall 
 I do ? we must go away directly ! " 
 
 Lady Brandon made no answer — over- 
 whelmed by her sorrow, she scarcely heard
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH, 223 
 
 what the cruel woman of the world imagined to 
 be most important at the moment ; and it was 
 not until Lady Julia, whose alarm was more 
 moderate on the score of infection, recollected 
 the necessity of saying something proper on the 
 occasion, that Lady Brandon was enabled to 
 give the particulars of the illness of Florence, 
 and she hastened to entreat they would dis- 
 pense with her presence at the breakfast- table. 
 
 '* Oh ! certainly, my dear : but you are not 
 going back into the sick room, are you?" ex- * 
 claimed Lady Marwood. 
 
 *' Yes, I cannot bear to be away from her for 
 a moment." 
 
 ** Then for heaven's sake do not come near 
 me again, my dear Mary. I declare I feel quite 
 cold and shivering myself. I hope it is not in 
 the air of the house. Send me down some 
 camphor directly, but do not touch it yourself, 
 or let any one touch it that has been in the 
 room. Julia, my dear, ring the bell, I have
 
 224 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 some pastilles in my dressing-room ! Good 
 heavens, if I should catch the fever!" 
 
 '* I declare, mamma, you are quite ridicu- 
 lous," exclaimed Lady Julia, as poor Lady 
 Brandon glided from the room ; " people do 
 not catch fevers so easily." 
 
 ** I shall certainly not run the risk of it. 
 One would be such a figure : it completely took 
 off Lady Malcolm's eye-brows last year, and as 
 to complexion that never recovers from a long 
 fever; only look at Mrs. Oakley, who had the 
 finest complexion in the world, — just see what a 
 colour her face is now !" 
 
 " Then where do you intend to go, mamma?" 
 asked Lady Julia, not sorry that any thing 
 should afford a pretext for escape from the 
 dulness which she foresaw would be her por- 
 tion if she remained at Wandesford. 
 
 ** I am sure I don't know. There never was 
 such an unlucky time for that girl to be ill. I 
 wish she had chosen to wait another month or
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 225 
 
 two. I had settled to stay here, and now at 
 the moment we have no invitations that would 
 suit us. The Scotts don't expect us till 
 Christmas ; the Wyndhams are not at home." 
 
 *' Why should we not go to Brighton or to 
 Paris?'* asked Lady Julia. 
 
 " Quite impossible, my dear; I will neither 
 live at my own expense, nor go where I am 
 not sure of my whist. Now if there v/as 
 any place in this neighbourhood that I could 
 manage to get into for a fortnight or three 
 weeks, when the infection was over we could 
 come back here. If she don't die in a week or 
 ten days, most likely she will get well, and 
 infection is all over in about three weeks." 
 
 *' There is no house in this country fit to go 
 to/' said Lady Julia, sullenly. 
 
 " No house, my dear, I dare say that you 
 
 would find agreeable, but if it suits me, that is 
 
 the chief thing. People must not be so selfish. 
 
 In my days young ladies did not think so much 
 
 l2
 
 226 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of themselves and their amusement as they do 
 now. Let me see, there are the Watts, and 
 Groves, and Barnards, all within an hour's drive 
 of each other : but they are on the wrong side 
 of the country. I must be near Mr. Dickson 
 and Mrs. Linwood, or I never should be sure 
 of my rubber. Who else is there, Julia? — can't 
 you speak?" 
 
 " No one that I know of," rephed Julia, 
 coldly. She was determined not to give any 
 assistance towards Lady Marwood's plan of 
 migration to some neighbour's place. 
 
 "Oh! Pembury, the Perkins's! — the very 
 people that will suit me. How could I pass 
 them over ? really my poor head is bewildered !" 
 
 " What, Lady Perkins? the woman to whom 
 you were so abominably rude last year ? I 
 wonder you could think of such a thing, 
 mamma." 
 
 '* That does not signify in the least. I will 
 be very civil to her now, which will make up
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 227 
 
 for it. Order the carriage directly, Julia, that 
 I may be sure of finding her at home." 
 
 '' Surely you do not seriously think of in- 
 viting yourself there ?" said, Julia, with a look 
 of alarm. 
 
 '* Certainly I mean to do so. It will exactly 
 suit me in every way. Mrs. Linwood's place is 
 quite close to Pembury, and so is Mr. Dick- 
 son's, — at least not more than two miles I should 
 think. He can ride over to tea every evening, 
 even if they don't ask him to dinner. And 
 then we shall be near enough to hear every 
 day how Florence goes on, and even if she does 
 die I can still come back here. My own 
 brother's house is quite a different thing from a 
 
 stranger's." 
 
 " Oh ! I dare say she will not die," said 
 Lady Julia, spitefully. 
 
 ** I hope not, for I have just finished all my 
 mourning. I gave away even my old black 
 satin. I wish I had kept it in case of acci- 
 dents, for trimmed up with crape it would have
 
 228 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 done very well for a niece, and really I have 
 not a farthing to spare. People always con- 
 trive to die at some inconvenient time." 
 
 While these affectionate relations were thus 
 coolly occupied in discussions in which the life 
 or death of the beautiful creature who, had 
 either of them been ill, would have tended the 
 sufferer with the most devoted affection, ap- 
 peared the least important point, — the uncon- 
 scious cause of their discomposure lay but a 
 few steps distant in all the agony of delirium. 
 Though hitherto she had been blessed with 
 uninterrupted good health, Florence had not 
 naturally a very strong constitution, and the 
 extreme sensitivenessof her nature rendered her 
 liable to suffer deeply from any violent excite- 
 ment of feeling. The events of the preceding 
 days had been too much for h-er, and the effort 
 she had made to conceal the misery occasioned 
 by her interview with Mr. De Grey had only 
 rendered her sufferings doubly acute. 
 
 From the moment that Lady Brandon had
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 229 
 
 been hastily summoned to her daughter's bed- 
 side, she had hung over her in an agony of 
 grief. Every thing that kindness or the skill 
 of the medical attendants who were within 
 rea,ch in the country could devise, was done to 
 alleviate the sufferings of this idolized being, 
 but every hour seemed only to increase the 
 violence of the illness; and when the physician 
 who had been sent for from town arrived, he 
 pronounced the symptoms to be decidedly those 
 of a brain-fever. 
 
 Night closed, and another day arose; and 
 another and another followed, and yet no hope 
 of amendment was given ; but, at length, the 
 youth of the poor sufferer triumphed, and the 
 afflicted and almost despairing parents were 
 told that their child was spared to them, they 
 knelt, with grateful hearts, by the bedside of 
 that dearly loved one, and poured forth their 
 fervent thanks to Him who, in his mercy, had 
 looked down upon their sorrow, and made it
 
 230 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 light enough for them to bear, at the moment 
 that they were ready to sink beneath its weight. 
 And now, as they gazed upon the wan and 
 haggard, though still lovely features of their 
 precious child, though neither of those doating 
 parents spoke a word, how deeply each felt that 
 all their late anxiety for the temporal advantage 
 of her who lay before them was but vanity, and 
 the fear that the knowledge of it might have 
 preyed upon her mind, filled their hearts with 
 the bitter torment of self-reproach. Each mu- 
 tually resolved that the subject should never 
 again be mentioned, and if a pang of regret did 
 sometimes remind them that all feeling-s of this 
 world were not yet dead within their breasts, 
 they soon looked with horror on what was but 
 a selfish feeling, and in the ecstasy of bliss 
 with which they wept over the lovely being 
 who seemed restored to them, they acknow- 
 ledged, in meekness and humility, that their 
 happiness was far beyond their deserts.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 231 
 
 It was, indeed, a happy day when the word of 
 hope was spoken. For several hours no one of 
 the many who wept in silence in that chamber 
 of grief dared even to question their own hearts. 
 The afflicted parents, with their hands clasped 
 in each other's, bowed their h#ads, as if awaiting 
 the blow which was impending over them ; 
 while Louisa and Mary Brandon sat on each 
 side of their sister's bed, looking, in their beau- 
 tiful freshness, like two young spirits from 
 above, watching the moment when the fleeting 
 breath should exhale its last soft sigh, to bear it 
 gently up to realms of peace and joy. 
 
 Deep had be#n the anguish of the mourners; 
 but deeper still was the fervour of their gratitude 
 to Heaven, when, once more, the parent's heart 
 was gladdened, and the sister's love rejoiced in 
 the feeble sound of that beloved voice which 
 for some time had seemed as if hushed for ever. 
 The ravings of fever were past : the shriek of 
 delirium no more echoed through the breaking
 
 232 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 hearts of the listeners : the solemn silence, and 
 the stillness, as of death, which follows when 
 exhausted nature sinks beneath the fierceness of 
 her own imaginings, — all had passed away: 
 the heavy wing of the destroying Angel no 
 longer hovered above ; and the first words of the 
 gentle sufferer were those of thanksgiving to 
 Heaven ; the next of affection and gratitude to 
 those dear ones, whose sweet looks of love 
 hailed the return of the nearly lost to their 
 arms, with tears of joy and gladness.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Meantime, firm to her deteraiination, Lady 
 Marwood, turning a deaf ear to all her daugh- 
 ter's objections, set off to negotiate an arrange- 
 ment by which she could manage to escape 
 from the danger with which fancy threatened 
 her at Wandesford ; and still remain near 
 enough to resume her place in her brother's 
 house, whenever it should be convenient. 
 
 The family of the persons she was about to 
 invade consisted of four individuals, — Sir Jo- 
 seph and Lady Perkins, and their two daugh- 
 ters, Mary and Priscilla. Sir Joseph had once 
 attained to the dignity of being mayor of a neigh- 
 bouring town, and, on being appointed to pre- 
 sent some address at court, had been knighted.
 
 234 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Certainly, this distinction could scarcely have 
 been conferred upon him, had grace of manner 
 or comeliness of appearance been requisite qua- 
 lifications for the honour ; for no human being 
 ever presented a much less engaging exterior to 
 the eye of royalty than did Joseph Perkins. 
 He was a very diminutive thin man, with a 
 small pale face and a red nose, he stooped 
 slightly, and the sound of his voice suited well 
 with the delicacy of his appearance. 
 
 Lady Perkins bore one of those striking 
 resemblances to her husband that sometimes 
 fill the mind of the beholder with astonishment : 
 as if, from constantly living in his society, Lady 
 Perkins seemed every year to grow more and 
 more like Sir Joseph. There was the same 
 spare, dried-up look, the same little red end to 
 her nose, that looked as if the blood confined 
 its circulation to that favoured spot ; the same 
 habit of stooping, and almost inaudible tone of 
 voice ; and when these two little people ap-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 235 
 
 peared, which they almost always did, together, 
 they looked like two field-mice, creeping side 
 by side, for protection. 
 
 But their peculiarity of appearance was the 
 only fault of Sir Joseph and Lady Perkins, or 
 rather all that could throw a shade of ridicule 
 over them ; for there did not exist two more 
 well-meaning, innocent-minded creatures on 
 the earth. The circumstance which had led to 
 Sir Joseph's elevation to the honours of knight- 
 hood, was almost the only one which had ever 
 compelled him to emerge from the retirement of 
 his own house ; and once released from the ar- 
 duous cares of office, he had hastened to seek 
 repose in the obscurity of his own home. In 
 that home had his tranquil and happy life been 
 spent. He had bought the little property on 
 which the house stood on their marriage ; and 
 ever since, it had been his delight and that of 
 his wife to improve and embellish it by every 
 means in their power. There, had their children
 
 236 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 been born ; and there, they had lived in peace 
 and contentment, till the moment when, unfor- 
 tunately for them, Lady Marwood found it 
 convenient to recollect their existence. 
 
 Neither Sir Joseph nor Lady Perkins cared 
 the least about great people. Simple and un- 
 pretending, if their society was sought for by 
 others, they were perfectly ready to take in 
 good part the overtures that were made to 
 them, and their old friends were always received 
 at Pembury with the most true and honest cor- 
 diality ; but they never toiled after new ac- 
 quaintances, or attempted to vie with their 
 neighbours in point of establishment or equi- 
 page. Contented and unassuming, they kept 
 the even tenor of their way ; and being totally 
 free from pretension, never could be accused of 
 vulgarity. 
 
 It may be imagined with what astonishment 
 these quiet little people beheld the showy equi- 
 page of Lady Marwood approaching the door of
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 237 
 
 their house ; and when, without waiting to ask 
 any questions, the lady whom it contained bus- 
 tled into the drawing-room, followed by Lady 
 Julia, whose countenance exhibited unequivocal 
 signs of ill-temper. 
 
 ** My dear Lady Perkins, how very happy I 
 am to have found you at home ! I am so glad 
 to see you again — and Sir Joseph, how well he 
 is looking!" was the first exclamation of Lady 
 Marwood, as she seized a hand of each of the 
 small people, and stood looking from one to the 
 other, not the least abashed by observing that 
 there were certainly no very visible signs of 
 pleasure on the countenance of either. 
 
 The only acquaintance which Lady Marwood 
 could boast of with the lady of whose house 
 she thus unceremoniously intended taking pos- 
 session, was, having met them the year before 
 at Wandesford Park, at dinner, when having 
 ascertained that they could be no acquisition 
 to her whist- party (the only redeeming quality
 
 238 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 she could see in country people), she had not 
 failed to be as rude as she possibly could 
 manage to be in the course of one evening, and 
 even openly quizzed the singularity of their ap- 
 pearance to her daughter. Of this, however, 
 they were not in the least aware. It would 
 have taken some time to initiate them into the 
 mysteries of that art which enables a proficient 
 in it to be as unladylike, unkind, and uncivil 
 as possible, without speaking a word which can 
 afford any tangible ground of offence. 
 
 But when the kind and formal Lady Perkins 
 thought it necessary to explain to Lady Mar- 
 wood, that she would make it a point to drive 
 over to Wandesford the next morning to call 
 upon her; and when, heedless of her ladyship's 
 uncourteous reply '' that she never visited in the 
 country," Lady Perkins really did make her ap- 
 pearance, only to be denied the pleasure of 
 seeing Lady Marwood, after sitting a quarter 
 of an hour waiting for her, a visit which she
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 239 
 
 took care never to return ; then certainly, the 
 spirit of Lady Perkins awoke, and she did 
 express to her husband and daughters her sense 
 of the rudeness which had been offered to her. 
 
 And this was the person of whom Lady 
 Marwood intended asking the small favour of 
 being taken into her house, herself, her daugh- 
 ter, and servants, for a period which was to be 
 regulated entirely by her own caprice. The 
 selfishness and meanness of a fine lady knows 
 no bounds. 
 
 It was a strange contrast the meeting of these 
 people. The showy, bustling, weli-dressed 
 Lady Marwood, talking excessively loud, as if 
 to bear down all opposition to her will, and 
 the timid, shrinking, Quakerlike-looking pair, 
 whom she continued to overwhelm by her pro- 
 fession of interest. 
 
 * ' I am come to you, dear Lady Perkins, with 
 a little petition. The most shocking thing has 
 happened. My poor niece, Florence, has been
 
 240 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 attacked with a terribly infectious fever. I am 
 very subject to fever, and Sir William has in- 
 sisted on my not staying in the house ; but as 
 I cannot tear myself from the neighbourhood 
 wbile the dear girl continues so ill, I have fol- 
 lowed my brother's advice, and come to throw 
 myself at your feet, and entreat a night's lodg- 
 ing for myself and Julia. Will you take pity 
 on two poor outcasts ?" 
 
 The well-timed mention of Sir William Bran- 
 don's name operated like a charm upon Sir Jo- 
 seph and Lady Perkins, and the news of the 
 illness of their favourite Florence was of too 
 distressing a nature to allow of their dwelling at 
 that moment upon any unpleasant reflections 
 which the abrupt appearance of Lady Marwood 
 had undoubtedly revived. With much kind- 
 ness of manner they hastened to assure their 
 visitor that their house was at her disposal ; and 
 in a very short time, Lady Marwood took care 
 that their words should be verified. Having
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 241 
 
 despatched her servants to inform Sir William 
 Brandon of her movements, and to return in- 
 stantly with every thing belonging to her, she 
 then proceeded to examine the local arrange- 
 ments, so as best to ensure the ease and com- 
 fort which were always her principal study. 
 
 " My dear Lady Perkins, do not let me put 
 you out of your way, I beg. I want so little ; — 
 no one requires so little attendance as I do, 
 fortunately. The only thing I request particu- 
 larly, is, that you will put me on this floor, if 
 possible. I cannot bear going up and down 
 stairs." 
 
 ^' I am afraid,'' said Lady Perkins, hesi^ 
 tatingly, " you will not find this floor very 
 comfortable." 
 
 '' Oh yes, I am quite sure I shall. I want 
 so little. But perhaps I can see the rooms," 
 and without waiting for an answer. Lady Mar- 
 wood proceeded to the inspection of the apart- 
 ments, exactly as if she was in an hotel. 
 
 TOL. I. M
 
 242 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 '' Oh, this will do beautifully !" she exclaimed, 
 having penetrated into a very pretty little room, 
 which, from its well-arranged book-shelves, ap- 
 peared as if modestly intending to represent a 
 library. 
 
 Lady Perkins, who glided after her stately 
 visitor in timid silence, looked aghast at the 
 idea of sacrificing what happened to be her 
 favourite morning room; but it appeared she 
 was not to have a voice upon the subject, for 
 Lady Marwood, who saw her advantage, and 
 was determined to have all the arrangements 
 made exactly to suit herself, continued : — 
 
 '' Yes, this will do very w^ell. It is rather 
 small to be sure, and there is no dressing-room ; 
 but I can manage to do without that, I think. 
 Perhaps, you will have the goodness to desire 
 that the bed may be put up on this side of the 
 window. I dare say there is a draught; there 
 is always a draught from every window, but I 
 can move that screen. Morison, my maid, will
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 243 
 
 see that it is all comfortable, and save you any 
 trouble : so pray, dear Lady Perkins, do not 
 worry yourself with directions. Come, we will 
 go back to the drawing-room." 
 
 So saying, Lady Marwood returned to the 
 room which she had just quitted, and taking 
 off her shawl, established herself very comfort- 
 ably in the best arm-chair in the room. 
 
 So far, every thing had succeeded according 
 to the wishes of Lady Marwood ; and for the 
 first day, she was contented to remain quietly 
 in the position she had forcibly taken up. But 
 the next morning, having ascertained that the 
 accounts of Florence were of a still more unfa- 
 vourable nature than the last, she began to 
 meditate how she could possibly manage her 
 indispensable evening amusement, a rubber of 
 whist. As she had effected her entrance by 
 storm, she thought it would have a better ap- 
 pearance to obtain the next object by stratagem. 
 She, therefore, immediately set about the task
 
 244 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of talking over Lady Perkins; and had the 
 important matter been entirely in that lady's 
 power, probably Lady Marwood would have 
 carried that point as easily as she had done the 
 others. But, unfortunately, Lady Perkins had 
 never considered it an addition to her own dig- 
 nity to make her husband a cipher in his 
 house, by not appearing to deem it necessary 
 that he should be made acquainted with any of 
 her arrangements. Lady Perkins, being an 
 old-fashioned person, was considerate and sub- 
 missive; two qualities now unknown. She al- 
 ways consulted Sir Joseph as to whom he 
 wished to see in his own house; and, unfortu- 
 nately, when at Lady Marwood's suggestion, 
 she mentioned Mr. Dickson and Mrs. Lin wood, 
 she was met (as regarded the former) with a 
 positive refusal. If there was any one upon 
 earth whom Sir Joseph detested, it was Mr. 
 Dickson : they had not been on visiting, or 
 even on speaking terms, for many years; and
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 245 
 
 nothing could induce him to renew the ac- 
 quaintance. Lady Perkins knew that when 
 Sir Joseph spoke so positively, there was not 
 any chance of his changing his determination; 
 and with a degree of timidity, therefore, which 
 she would not have acknowledged to herself, 
 she ventured to inform Lady Marwood of the 
 ill-success of her undertaking. 
 
 The anger of this selfish, calculating woman, 
 knew no bounds, and it was with difficulty she 
 could refrain from expressing her sensations in 
 words which might have compelled her to with- 
 draw herself from the roof of the kind and hos- 
 pitable people who had received her. Lady 
 Perkins perceived her annoyance, and, scaicely 
 understanding its cause, ventured to remark — 
 '' that she fancied, perhaps. Lady Marwood 
 would be as well pleased not to have any com- 
 pany just at that moment, as her niece was in 
 such imminent danger." 
 
 A flush of disdain actually gave a deeper 
 shade to the rouge on Lady Marwood's cheek,
 
 246 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 as she listened to this antediluvian idea. To 
 imagine that she ought to seclude herself be- 
 cause her brother's child happened to be dy- 
 ing! — It was too ridiculous. But the wither- 
 ing look of contempt she cast upon poor Lady 
 Perkins failed to make any impression upon 
 her. She was not aware of having said any 
 thing extraordinary. 
 
 Lady Marwood could not recover from her 
 disappointment. ' It was so unexpected. It 
 never had occurred to her to think of the possi- 
 biUty of such an event. ^' Those sort of people 
 always know each other," had been her an- 
 swer to Lady Julia, when, in despair of finding 
 a chance of escape from the visit to Pembury, 
 she had suggested that it might be as well just 
 to ascertain whether Lady Marwood's whist 
 friends were on terms of intimacy with the 
 Perkinses. Now, however, it had proved but 
 too possible, and Lady Marwood found herself 
 quite at a loss how to proceed. 
 
 The prospect was dreadful, if the first evening
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 247 
 
 might be taken as a sample of what she was to 
 expect. They had dined at six, and drunk tea 
 at nine ; after which, nothing more lively had 
 occurred than what might have been expected 
 from Sir Joseph and Lady Perkins, sitting very 
 erect upon their chairs, at a formal distance 
 from Lady Marwood. Lady Julia leaned back 
 upon a sofa, looking wretchedly out of humour, 
 while the two Misses Perkins scarcely raised 
 their eyes from the work they intently pursued. 
 
 The only other individual of the party was 
 Mr. Whitmore, the curate of the parish ; a tall, 
 shy young man, with straight light hair and a 
 hectic complexion, who now and then ventured 
 to pick up Miss Priscilla's scissors, but very 
 seldom made a remark. 
 
 The following day was still more trying, the 
 rain fell incessantly, and the patience of Lady 
 Marwood was tried to the utmost by the simple, 
 well-meaning endeavours of poor Lady Perkins 
 to render herself agreeable. The accounts of
 
 S48 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Florence did not improve, and the indefinite 
 term of penance to which Lady Marwood 
 appeared to have condemned herself and her 
 daughter, irritated the latter beyond all degree 
 of forbearance. She could not endure the so- 
 ciety of those with whom she found herself im- 
 mured, and still less could her own vacancy of 
 mind allow her to pass the day alone, or endea- 
 vour to employ herself in any rational pursuit. 
 
 There are few situations in which we may be 
 placed, which to a sensible and inquiring mind 
 are totally devoid of interest, or unproductive of 
 improvement; and there are very few people 
 among the many with whom the chances of life 
 bring us unexpectedly into contact, from whom 
 we may not learn something; or in whose cha- 
 racters, however commonplace or repulsive 
 they may have at first appeared, may not be 
 found some one redeeming quality, some trait 
 of goodness, some spark of talent, some touch- 
 ing resignation under trials we knew not of at
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 249 
 
 first, which often makes us feel how utterly in- 
 ferior we are, with all our boasted superiority, 
 to those we had so hastily condemned. 
 
 Before she had been half an hour at Pem- 
 bury, Lady Julia Manvers had declared '* the 
 whole thing detestable;" including all its in- 
 mates in the sweeping censure. And yet, had 
 she paused to examine, or been endowed with 
 sufficient goodness of feeling to appreciate it, 
 there was much beneath that roof to love and to 
 admire. But Sir Joseph and Lady Perkins were 
 pronounced most intolerable bores; and their 
 daughters, one a saint, and the other a blue. 
 
 The only amusement which Lady Julia could 
 possibly devise for herself was the hope of quizz- 
 ing these inoffensive people, and as she lounged 
 upon the sofa after dinner, and beheld both 
 sisters sitting exactly in the same places, and 
 occupied with the same pieces of work as on 
 the preceding evening, with the meek, con- 
 sumptive-looking curate in attendance, she 
 M 2
 
 250 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 could, with' difficulty, restrain the expression of 
 the supreme contempt with which her bosom 
 was filled towards them and their occupations. 
 
 " May I ask, Miss Perkins, what you are 
 making all those children's caps for? I could 
 almost fancy myself in a lying-in hospital, in- 
 stead of the fairy bower of two spinsters." 
 
 " They are for a poor woman who is in very 
 great distress," replied Mary, without appearing 
 disturbed by the manner in which the question 
 had been put. 
 
 " Then I am sure she can't do better than 
 employ herself. I dare say it is all idleness. 
 If you gave her one for a pattern, it would be 
 quite enough." 
 
 " I do not think so, Lady Julia. She is a 
 very great invalid ; and those to whom God has 
 given health and strength should be thankful 
 for the blessing, and endeavour to assist the 
 less fortunate.'' 
 
 *' Dear me, I am sure one never was intended
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 251 
 
 to make caps for all the dirty beggar children. 
 But, thank God, I am not such a saint as you 
 are. I like to enjoy my life.'' 
 
 " I do not know what you mean by a 
 saint, Lady Julia ; and as for enjoyment, I 
 do not believe there is any one who more 
 thoroughly enjoys life than I do." 
 
 ** Then you must be very easily pleased if 
 all that preaching and praying satisfies you.'* 
 
 '* I never preach, and I pray no more than 
 what I trust every Christian wishes to do." 
 
 *' Oh ! I know exactly what that means. — 
 You spend all the mornings at meetings, and 
 in the evening call together the elect, to have 
 an opportunity of proving to them all your 
 anxiety for * the saving of souls.*" 
 
 A deep sigh was the only answer Lady 
 Julia received to this speech ; but, in nowise 
 daunted, she continued : — 
 
 " And as for us, poor sinners, all we like is 
 most inexorably condemned. All our balls,
 
 252 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 parties, operas, are ' temptings of the evil one ;* 
 * Satan's devices to catch souls/ and so on : — 
 you would not be seen in one of them for the 
 world." 
 
 " You quite mistake me, Lady Julia," said 
 Mary. '' If I do not myself enter into those 
 amusements, it is because I do not think they 
 would afford me any pleasure. My age, my 
 habits of life, unfit me for that style of society ; 
 but I do not condemn others whose taste may 
 be different from mine. It can be no offence 
 if I wish to be allowed to be happy my own 
 way ; '* and as she looked up, the pale, gentle 
 face of Mary beamed with a deprecating smile, 
 which even moderated the flippant ill temper 
 of Lady Julia's tone. 
 
 " Well, you are very different from any saint 
 that I ever heard of. There is the famous 
 Lady Arkwright, who turned devout because 
 her lover, the Count de Reale, had fallen in 
 love with a nun ; and then there was that
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 253 
 
 beautiful Mrs. Cornwallis, who caught the 
 small-pox and lost one eye — she was the most 
 violent saint I ever knew ; and neither of them 
 would hear of ever going out. We knew them 
 abroad, and they would not even come with us 
 into the galleries. I wonder if you think there's 
 any harm in looking at pictures and statues?" 
 
 *' Not in the least, Lady Julia," exclaimed 
 Priscilla. " Mary is excessively fond of them, 
 nearly as much so as I am, though we have 
 never had an opportunity of seeing any of the 
 finest.*' 
 
 " Well, you surprise me," said Lady Julia, 
 with a pretended look of astonishment. 
 
 '^ A taste for the beautiful is natural to every 
 pure and well-directed mind," exclaimed Mr. 
 Whitmore, catching a spark from Priscilla's 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 Lady Julia was silent from amazement. 
 That Priscilla should venture to have an opin- 
 ion of her own, appeared to her the very
 
 254 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 climax of audacity. But that the shy and 
 awkward Mr. Whitmore, a country curate, 
 should dare to applaud or confirm Priscilla's 
 words, was still more extraordinary. She 
 instantly decided that an attachment existed 
 between him and the ^' blue Priscilla," and as 
 instantly determined to thwart and under- 
 mine it. 
 
 '* I do not know — I am sure, I cannot pre- 
 tend to enter into any disquisitions on the 
 subject," she rephed, languidly, leaning her 
 head upon her hand ; " you are so very learned, 
 I hear." 
 
 *' I wish I was," said Priscilla, humbly. 
 
 " Oh, I am quite afraid of you," replied 
 Lady Julia, affectedly. " There is nothing I 
 am so much afraid of as a learned lady. I 
 don't mind a man, but a woman who is always 
 poring over books is so tremendous. I wonder 
 if you ever condescend to think of the same 
 things we ignorant people do ? Is it pleasant
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 255 
 
 to be so very clever? What does it feel 
 
 like r 
 
 '* I have no pretensions to any thing of the 
 kind," said Priscilla, coldly. 
 
 " Oh ! that is only affectation of modesty, — 
 I know you are so very blue. When you write 
 a book, pray don't put any thing about me in 
 it, — remember I acknowledge my utter igno- 
 rance of any one single subject under heaven." 
 
 *' There is no chance of my writing a book : 
 I wish I could do so ; but you would be in no 
 danger, Lady Julia," continued Priscilla, with 
 a good-humoured smile : " for if I did, I should 
 not pay my friends so bad a compliment, or 
 bestow so much attention on my enemies, as 
 to give either one or the other a place in it.** 
 
 '* But Mr. Whitmore told me you wrote so 
 beautifully," observed Lady Julia. ''What 
 did he mean?'* 
 
 " Did he say so?" asked Priscilla, bending 
 her head over her work.
 
 256 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 " Oh, yes, indeed she does," exclaimed Mr. 
 Whitmore ; *' shq has written some beautiful 
 little poems.*' 
 
 "Indeed!" said Lady Julia, with a super- 
 cilious air. '' Poetry and moonlight — how 
 very sentimental! One must be in love to 
 write poetry I should think. I never tried 
 myself. — I should die of the horror of seeing 
 my own name in print, still more my own 
 words, exposed to the comments of all sorts of 
 vulgar people." 
 
 *' If all people thought so, then there would 
 be no books; and what a loss, what an irrepar- 
 able loss, would they not be to us ! " 
 
 " Oh ! most of them could very well be 
 spared," said Lady Julia. 
 
 '' O Lady Julia, do not say so; if you cannot 
 create, surely you can admire the creations of 
 others' genius; surely you can feel what a 
 Heaven-born gift it is to be able to soar above 
 the common, paltry, every-day concerns of this
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 257 
 
 life, and dwell in a world, peopled by Imagina- 
 tion, and decked and endowed by the bright 
 hues of Fancy." 
 
 '* Dear me, I cannot understand all that," 
 said Lady Julia, with a sneer and a look of 
 spite, as she beheld Mr. Whitmore gazing with 
 delight on the glowing countenance of Pris- 
 cilla. '* It is much too deep for me ; I told 
 you I was not the least clever." 
 
 There is nothing more disheartening, nothing 
 that fills the mind with more disgust towards 
 the world, than the chill which enthusiasm, 
 however indifferently it may have been ex- 
 pressed, is sure to meet from those who are 
 incapable of the same feeling. It seems, at the 
 moment, that it really is not worth while to in- 
 habit a world where such unimpassioned, soul- 
 less beings vegetate. It would be absurd to 
 expect that all should excel : but, though all 
 may not have been equally gifted by nature, 
 most people are supposed to have a certain de-
 
 258 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 gree of sense and feeling ; and yet, how many 
 are there who do not, or will not, admire ; who 
 withhold their homage from that to which they 
 should bow, who scoff where they should re- 
 vere ; and, not satisfied with endeavouring to 
 ridicule what is beyond their comprehension, 
 use all their influence to lead others in the same 
 course, and smarting under the consciousness 
 of their ignorance, would gladly see the world 
 reduced to their own level ! Their anxiety to 
 deprecate what they cannot attain is evident, 
 •even when veiled beneath an attempt at ridi- 
 cule, or the insidious underminings of faint and 
 qualified praise. 
 
 An extremely clever person is seldom a popu- 
 lar one ; especially, if he happens to unite the 
 rare combination of superior excellence in any 
 one particular acquirement with general worldly 
 cleverness and a deep insight into human na- 
 ture. In proportion as his scrutiny is dreaded, 
 so are his accomplishments decried. The
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 259 
 
 littleness of the shallow and common-minded 
 people who form so large a proportion of the 
 world might forgive the possession of some one 
 talent tb others, but such persons cannot endure 
 that superiority of intellect which gives the 
 possessor power as it were over them and their 
 inmost thoughts. They do not like to be found 
 out ; they shrink from the mind which can 
 penetrate the motive of their actions. It is a 
 common expression with them *' that they are 
 afraid of very clever people." It would be 
 much nearer the truth if they said '' that they 
 were ashamed of themselves."
 
 CHAPTER XV'I. 
 
 *' Mamma, would you believe it?" exclaimed 
 Lady Julia Manvers. *' Miss Perkins has just 
 been at Wandesford, and she has seen Florence 
 every day since we came here!" 
 
 '' Good Heavens ! Miss Perkins, how could 
 you think of doing such a thing? Julia, my 
 dear, where is my scent bottle? I declare I 
 have forgotten my camphor-bag. My dear 
 Lady Perkins, perhaps you have some aromatic 
 vinegar in the house ? Pray let me have some." 
 
 And Lady Marwood hastily left the spot 
 where the gentle Mary Perkins sat, pursuing 
 her charitable occupation of making caps for 
 the poor woman's child, and retreated to the 
 farthest corner of the room. 
 
 '•You need not be the least alarmed/ Lady
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 261 
 
 Marvvood : there never was any infection in the 
 fever," rephed Mary. 
 
 '* Miss Perkins, there is always infection. I 
 think it extremely wicked to go into it, for my 
 part. Sick people should be left to themselves ; 
 quiet is good for them, and people have no bu- 
 siness to spread infection all over the world by 
 going near them." 
 
 *' INIy dear Lady Marwood, if you could only 
 know to how much you are daily exposed, 
 without ever going into a sick room, you would 
 never go out at all. Only consider ; in every 
 shop, in every theatre or exhibition, even at 
 church, there are many who probably have 
 either friends or relations suffering from illness." 
 
 *' Ah, church ! that is the most unwholesome 
 place in the whole world," said Lady Marwood ; 
 " that is the reason I go so seldom. It is al- 
 ways too hot or too cold ; one is sure to catch 
 cold in church : and where there are church- 
 yards, it is horribly dangerous." 
 
 '^ One might say the same of any place
 
 262 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 where a large body of persons is assembled ; and 
 if there really is so much danger daily and 
 hourly hovering round our steps, I think the 
 moment when one who is dear to us is lying in 
 pain, and those who are watching around are 
 perhaps too much overcome by their sorrow to 
 be as useful as they might otherwise have been, 
 is the least fitting to be chosen for any extra 
 display of carefulness to avoid infection. Sym- 
 pathy with the unfortunate is very often all 
 that is in our power to give." 
 
 '* I hate unfortunate people," replied Lady 
 Marvvood, holding her smelling bottle to her 
 nose ; '* and I must say, Miss Perkins, I think 
 it quite unjustifiable your going to Wandesford 
 every day. Florence has plenty of people to 
 take care of her." 
 
 " Yes, fortunately she has," said Mary ; ^' and 
 I fervently hope and trust that to-day there is 
 some hope. Her sufferin^gs and those of her 
 family have been dreadful." 
 
 *' I dare say the other girls will catch the
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 263 
 
 fever, and keep up the infection for months!" 
 observed Lady Marvvood. 
 
 " I do not think there is any danger of that. 
 — A brain fever is not catching." 
 
 *' How can you possibly tell v\^hat sort of fever 
 it really is, Mjss Perkins? Doctors call every 
 thing brain fever, in hopes people may stay in 
 the house and catch it, just that they may make 
 something by it." 
 
 '' Oh, Lady Marwood!" said Mary, looking 
 much shocked ; " is this a charitable conclu- 
 sion ? I am sure if you knew the kindness and 
 anxiety that physicians shew not only to patients 
 themselves, but to their families, you would not 
 say so. I wish you could see Dr. Mason, who 
 is attending Florence. He has never left her 
 bedside for an hour, since she was taken ill. 
 If she was his own child, he could not have suf- 
 fered more than he has done upon her account." 
 
 ** Then why does he not cure her ? " said 
 Lady Marwood, peevishly.
 
 264 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 " The gift of life belongs to a far higher 
 power," replied Mary, gravely ; " but all that 
 human skill and kindness can effect has been 
 done for poor Florence, and until to-day with- 
 out avail." 
 
 ** These long fevers are very tiresome,'* said 
 Lady Marwood. 
 
 ** They are indeed dreadful. Most trying 
 to the sufferer and the anxious ones who watch 
 around.*' 
 
 The voice of the good and gentle Mary 
 trembled as she spoke, for she recalled to her 
 mind the scene of anguish she had daily or 
 nightly witnessed in the sick room of poor 
 Florence. Miss Perkins was deeply attached 
 to Lady Brandon, as well as to the lovely 
 girl over whom they had for so many days 
 mourned as lost to them for ever. Aware 
 that her presence would be a source of com- 
 fort to the distracted family, Mary had spent 
 the greatest part of every night at Wandesford ;
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 265 
 
 and the approach of her gentle step was hailed 
 by the unhappy mother as a messenger of 
 peace and hope. But where was the spot 
 where this excellent and amiable girl was not 
 welcome ? It is true that, perhaps, in those 
 haunts of worldliness and frivolity which are 
 the usual resort of such persons as Lady 
 Marwood and her daughter, the plain and 
 unpretending appearance of Mary Perkins 
 might have provoked ridicule. She would 
 probably have been denominated a bore or a 
 quiz, and each of the noble-minded individuals 
 of which such society is composed, would have 
 hastened to declare their utter ignorance as to 
 who such a person could be, fearful even of 
 incurring a suspicion of being her friend. 
 
 There are few things more amusing to be- 
 hold, though, at the same time, there is 
 nothing which so effectually debases society 
 in the eyes of the well-judging and right- 
 minded, as the excessive fear that is con- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 tinually betrayed of being mixed up with any one 
 who is unknown or undistinguished. A quiet, 
 unpresuming person appears in society to 
 which he may have every right in point of 
 birth and education, but unless he happens 
 to be surrounded by the glare and tinsel of 
 the world, he is deemed of no importance. 
 In vain he looks around for sympathy or for 
 kindness. There is no answering spirit to 
 his own. His acquaintances keep aloof until 
 they have ascertained '' what is thought of 
 him." Their own consciousness of his good 
 qualities is nothing until he obtain the fiat 
 of approbation from their frivolous associates. 
 His exterior is unfashionable, his name has 
 been hitherto unknown in their world, and 
 they cannot commit themselves by appear- 
 ing to take his part. Should he afterwards 
 succeed, notwithstanding his primitive ap- 
 pearance, then, when no longer in need of 
 comfort or cordiality of reception, people be-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCff. 267 
 
 gin to be less afraid of appearing to know , 
 something of him. But by that time, if not 
 before, he has become perfectly aware of the 
 cause of that treatment which at first had 
 filled his mind with astonishment, and his 
 heart with sorrow. He knows the false light 
 through which every thing is viewed by such 
 persons, and hurls back, with contempt, their 
 proffered services. Now that his footing is 
 secure, many a hand is stretched out, as if 
 in kindness; but the remembrance of the day 
 when, helpless and strange, he had stood as 
 if upon trial, and seen every eye averted until 
 it was known *' what would be thought of 
 him,'' is not so easily effaced ; and being at 
 once initiated into the secrets of the world 
 in which he moves, he passes on his way, 
 filled with a dark and bitter scorn for those 
 who can stoop to so heartless and unworthy 
 a meanness. It is difficult to think well of 
 a world where genuine worth seems so little
 
 268 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 . appreciated, and where all natural good feel- 
 ing must be either veiled beneath a conven- 
 tional disguise, or altogether kept out of 
 sight.
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 Nothing could, in Lady Marwood's opinion, 
 exceed the tediousness of the days she was 
 obliged to pass at Pembury. Restless and 
 unoccupied, the chief pleasure of her existence 
 lay between the eternal bustle of society and 
 the excitement of the card-table. At Pembury 
 both were denied her; and the consolation of 
 reflecting that she was living at another per- 
 son's expense scarcely made up for the ex- 
 cessive etinui she endured during the long 
 mornings. In the evening she generally went 
 to sleep, but the mornings were dreadful. 
 The simple mind of Lady Perkins could nei- 
 ther be subdued nor dazzled. In vain did
 
 270 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Lady Marwood, at one moment, endeavour to 
 irritate her by her numerous caprices, and by 
 indulging in a variety of imaginary wants 
 and wishes hitherto unheard of within the 
 walls of quiet Pembury ; or, at another, at- 
 tempt to overwhelm her by maliciously ex- 
 patiating upon the grandeur of the circle in 
 which she was accustomed to move, and con- 
 trasting it with Lady Perkins's actual position 
 in terms in which, if not expressed, the most 
 cutting rudeness was implied. Lady Perkins 
 remained unmoved. Her little formal ways 
 were unchanged ; and the fretful words and 
 manner of Lady Marwood had no effect, ex- 
 cept that of exciting a certain degree of pity 
 in her breast. She did not like Lady Mar- 
 wood ; but for the sake of her brother she 
 did all that was possible to make her com- 
 fortable and happy, and she could not un- 
 derstand why a person who was continually 
 boasting of her peculiar advantages in life
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 271 
 
 should appear eternally dissatisfied with every- 
 thing. 
 
 Occupied with her own discomfort, Lady 
 Marwood had not perceived that within the 
 last few days Lady Julia appeared to have 
 become suddenly reconciled to her position. 
 At first she had loudly exclaimed against re- 
 maining at Pembury, and the rudeness of her 
 manner had been most marked. But now 
 she was quite an altered creature. No one 
 could have recognised in the sparkling, 
 gracious, and entertaining Lady Julia, the 
 discontented, flippant, and disagreeable person 
 who had at first appeared amongst them. 
 Her whole aim seemed directed to please, 
 and to shew how much she was pleased 
 with their simple efforts to afford her amuse- 
 ment. Her time was patiently bestowed in 
 the endeavour to teach the Miss Perkins's a 
 variety of new works. She had left off her 
 habit of endeavouring to deride every opinion 
 they advanced, and her conversation, though
 
 272 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 of the highest and most amusing kind, she 
 took care should always harmonise with their 
 ideas, instead of offending any prejudice they 
 might happen to entertain. 
 
 In the evening Lady Julia was always ready 
 to sing ; and after having, with the most ex- 
 emplary patience, repeated over and over the 
 prettiest of her ballads and romances, Lady- 
 Julia appeared quite satisfied to finish the 
 evening by a quiet game of chess with the 
 gawky, consumptive-looking curate, whom 
 she had initiated into its mysteries. And 
 as at her desire he arranged the little table 
 at some distance from the rest of the party, 
 and proceeded with his long, awkward, un- 
 steady fingers, to place the chess-men upon 
 the board, Lady Julia was amply rewarded for 
 the penance she was forced to undergo, by 
 observing the look of sorrow and mortification 
 which overspread the usually placid coun- 
 tenance of Priscilla Perkins. 
 
 The delight of a wricked mind is to give
 
 THB LOVE-MATCH. 273 
 
 pain to others; and this science was one in 
 which the vicious disposition of Lady Julia 
 peculiarly fitted her to excel. She had early 
 detected the growing affection between Mr. 
 Whitmore and Priscilla, and burning with 
 dislike towards every body who appeared 
 nearer to the attainment of their wishes 
 than she did herself, she had had recourse 
 to every artifice within her power to estrange 
 these humble, inoffensive persons from each 
 other, and to fix the attentions of Mr. Whit- 
 more upon herself. What at another time 
 she would have scorned as totally beneath 
 her notice, she now condescended, to invite, 
 when conscious that it would be the means 
 of inflicting sorrow upon another woman. She 
 was enchanted to revenge upon the unhappy 
 Priscilla, both the annoyance and fatigue her 
 abode at Pembury had been to her, and every 
 moment of her time was devoted to the ac- 
 comphshment of her object. With a refine- 
 n2
 
 274 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 ment of cruelty, of which none but the bad- 
 hearted are capable, she caressed her victim 
 at the very instant she meditated its cruel 
 sacrifice ; and while all her arts were em- 
 ployed to wound the tender and susceptible 
 heart of the poor girl, she professed the warm- 
 est affection for her, and effectually silenced 
 any remonstrance that might possibly have 
 been made, by the endearing expressions of 
 interest she continually addressed to her in 
 pubhc. 
 
 But though Priscilla was silenced, she was 
 not deceived. The arts of Lady Julia were 
 plainly discernible to one who was so deeply 
 interested. For some time Priscilla had not 
 endeavoured to conceal from herself her prefer- 
 ence of Mr. Whitmore, and, until Lady Julia 
 appeared, she had certainly believed that his 
 sentiments corresponded with her own ; but, 
 as he had never made any positive declaration 
 of them, she felt it to be quite impossible to
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 275 
 
 Speak to any one upon the subject, and she 
 was therefore doomed to sit by in silence, 
 day after day, watching the effect which the 
 allurements and artifices of Lady Julia pro- 
 duced upon him whose affection she would 
 have valued so highly. 
 
 Poor Priscillal it was her first and only 
 conquest. Though her countenance was full of 
 intelligence, and her mind very superior to any 
 of those with whom she was daily in the habit of 
 associating, yet her attainments were few, and 
 her powers of conversation limited and feeble. 
 Partly from shyness, and partly from the se- 
 cluded manner in which she had passed her 
 life, her manner was reserved and unattractive ; 
 and, though infinitely superior in every good 
 quality and soundness of intellect, the poor 
 country girl could not for a moment enter into 
 competition with the lively, accomplished, 
 though superficial. Lady Julia. She saw her- 
 self eclipsed, and suffered the double mortifica-
 
 276 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 tion of constantly being made painfully aware 
 of the fact, and of observing that it was by one 
 who was in every way thoroughly unworthy of 
 respect or affection. 
 
 As to the unfortunate object of Lady Julia's 
 manoeuvres, he appeared in a state of perfect 
 bewilderment. Until that moment, he never 
 had beheld any woman at all approaching to 
 the enchanting being Lady Julia seemed to be 
 to him. He had scarcely ventured to raise his 
 eyes to Priscilla Perkins, so inferior even to 
 her had he deemed himself to be. Formerly 
 he had looked upon her as perfection, and her 
 accomplishments of working worsted work and 
 making penwipers and twisted allumettes, he 
 had fancied of the highest order. She was 
 also a musician ; and in other days how his 
 heart had beat as he listened to the soft tones 
 of her voice in singing some plaintive old 
 ballad ; but now he looked back upon all these 
 things with disgust, and wondered, not only
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 277 
 
 how he could have admired, but actually how 
 it had been possible to endure, them. He 
 contrasted all this with Lady Julia's accom- 
 plishments, and sickened at his former vul- 
 garity of taste. Here was a woman who 
 actually appeared as if she could do every 
 thing : at one moment, talking or singing 
 in several different languages, with the most 
 perfect ease, playing on the guitar, the harp, 
 or the piano-forte ; at another, gravely dis- 
 coursing upon literature and cutting up the 
 works of even the most celebrated authors, 
 in a manner which proved to him she could 
 have written the books so very much better 
 herself. Then again her knowledge of other 
 subjects even in his own line, schools, chari- 
 ties, and even sermons, and all this from the 
 lips of a most fascinating woman, with a figure 
 like a sylph, always dressed in the most 
 beautiful satin or velvet, while Priscilla's 
 best gown was only a pale-blue English
 
 278 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 merino, trimmed with imitation swanVdown. 
 It could not be longer endured To see that 
 this angel of perfection condescended to single 
 him out from the whole creation, to lavish 
 upon him the innumerable talents and charms 
 with which she had been endowed, was more 
 than the philosophy of poor Mr. Whitmore 
 could enable him to endure. 
 
 After many days, during which his head 
 was in such a state of confusion that he could 
 not positively come to any decision as to his 
 future course, he was suddenly alarmed by a 
 well-timed hint which the object of his adora- 
 tion threw out, as to the probability of her 
 speedy departure from Pembury ; and he 
 immediately came to the magnanimous resolu- 
 tion of offering himself and his seventy-five 
 pounds a-year to her acceptance. 
 
 The next question was the manner in which 
 the proposal would be made. He was too well 
 aware of his own deficiencies in conversational
 
 THB LOVE-MATCH. 279 
 
 powers to trust his cause to words, and as he 
 had always flattered himself that whatever 
 little talent he possessed consisted in writing, 
 he was enchanted with the idea of at once 
 effecting his purpose, and exhibiting himself 
 in what he considered a most favourable point 
 of view, by an elaborate composition. 
 
 The whole day was spent in the arrange- 
 ment of this epistle ; and, supported by the 
 consciousness of having surpassed even his 
 most sanguine expectations in the style and 
 delicacy of the expressions, Mr. Whitmore 
 dressed for dinner, and having carefully de- 
 posited the important note in one pocket, 
 while his thin shoes wrapped up in an old 
 newspaper occupied the other, he left his two 
 very small apartments over the second-best 
 linendraper's shop in the village, and proceeded 
 to pick his steps with more than usual care 
 along the muddy lane which led to Sir Joseph 
 Perkins's house.
 
 280 THE LOVE-MATCH, 
 
 Luckily for Mr. Whitmore, it did not occur 
 to him during his walk, that the beautiful little 
 satin shoes he had so often admired upon the 
 feet of his future wife would not be exactly- 
 suited to the sort of foot-paths with which the 
 neighbourhood of Pembury abounded ; he 
 thought only of the moment when he should 
 be able to call that enchanting creature his 
 own. Presently, however, he happened to 
 recollect with dismay, that the next day would 
 be Friday, and that he had not yet thought of 
 preparing his sermon for the afternoon service 
 of the following Sunday. How provoking ! 
 for he doubted not he should be obliged to 
 spend the whole of the following mornings 
 at Pembury, so certain did he feel of the 
 success of his suit. He determined to look 
 out for some sermon of the year before, and 
 having carefully changed his shoes in the hall, 
 and seen that the note was safe in his pocket, 
 he entered the drawing-room.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 281 
 
 No opportunity occurred during the early 
 part of the evening, of which Mr. Whitmore 
 could avail himself to present his note secretly ; 
 but, when at length the music ceased, and 
 Lady Julia, as usual, proposed chess, he 
 was released from the unhappy state of irri- 
 tation to which so much anxious watching 
 had reduced him, and took his accustomed 
 place at the little table with even more alacrity 
 than usual. 
 
 Lady Julia was all smiles, and her honeyed 
 words of flattery sunk deep into the too sen- 
 sitive heart of the Pembury curate. He could 
 not doubt that he was beloved : how was 
 it possible? Even if he had felt nervous for 
 a moment, could he imagine otherwise, when 
 the fascinating creature who filled his very 
 thought allowed her small and jewelled 
 fingers to rest contentedly upon the clumsy 
 trembling hand which had met hers in their 
 mutual anxiety to restore a fallen bishop to
 
 282 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 his place ? It was a fact of which he could 
 not doubt : and as she raised her dark eyes 
 to his, with a look which he might have 
 called *' peculiarly French," only he never 
 had happened to see a Frenchwoman, he 
 could no longer restrain his impatience, and 
 drawing the little hand closely within his own, 
 he placed the note in it, and, in the softest 
 accents, whispered, " Let me have your answer 
 to-morrow/' 
 
 Lady Julia, having- looked at the address, 
 deposited the note in her bag, and feeling 
 tolerably secure of its contents, perceived at 
 once that her object was gained, and scarcely 
 could she preserve the appearance of civility 
 in her manner during the short time the game 
 in which she was engaged must last. It was 
 soon over, and hastily rising, she seated 
 herself by the work-table and began very 
 coolly to decipher the quantity of small writ- 
 ing the note contained.
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 283 
 
 Agonized by this public manner of pro- 
 ceeding, the susceptible curate could no 
 longer bear his position, he rose hastily, 
 and without saying a word, rushed from the 
 house, and totally forgetting to change his 
 shoes, never paused until he found himself 
 safe in his lodging over the linendraper's 
 shop. 
 
 Lady Julia had no sooner finished the note, 
 than, without the smallest scruple, she dis- 
 closed the whole of its contents. Her triumph 
 without this would have been incomplete. 
 Every epithet that scorn could devise was 
 hurled by her against the unhappy writer, 
 and it was not until she proceeded in her 
 usual unfeeling manner to criticize and pull 
 to pieces the expressions of the note, that her 
 volubility was checked by the stern manner 
 of an observation from Priscilla upon the 
 dishonour of such conduct. 
 
 Lady Julia, humbled for a moment, de-
 
 284 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 sisted from the indelicacy she was committing, 
 but her wicked heart rejoiced as she perceived 
 the anguish depicted upon the poor girl's 
 face. She had taken from her her all; and 
 yet she could not rest satisfied unless she 
 publicly taunted her with the loss. She 
 had come to their peaceful home, and, like 
 the blast of the dread simoon, had brought 
 desolation in her course. Her wicked spirit 
 loved to pause and gloat upon the misery 
 she had caused, and she continued in so 
 loud a strain to inveigh against the imperti- 
 nence which had been offered to her, and 
 the impossibility of her remaining where a 
 repetition of such a thing might occur, that 
 at length Lady Marwood, who began to grow 
 ashamed of the scene which her daughter 
 was making, consented to return to Wandes- 
 ford, should the physician who attended 
 Florence give her a solemn assurance that 
 all danger of infection was past.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The recovery of Florence was very slow. For 
 many days after all real danger had passed 
 away, she had continued in a most distressing 
 state of weakness, and even when she was able 
 to leave her room, while her bodily strength 
 slowly returned, her spirits appeared to sink 
 still more than when her sufferings had been 
 greater. She would remain for hours in the 
 same position, her eyes closed and her figure 
 motionless. No entreaty could prevail upon 
 her to enter the drawing-room. Every morn- 
 ing she would creep, with feeble step, to her 
 mother's dressing-room, and there, in silence 
 and in sadness, did she spend the weary hours,
 
 286 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 till night once more released her from the effort 
 of assuming the appearance of tranquillity. 
 
 Lady Brandon attended her daughter with 
 the most unremitting care. She cautiously 
 avoided any allusion to events which had 
 taken place before the illness of Florence, and 
 endeavoured by every means in her power to 
 shew that neither she nor Sir William Brandon 
 had any wish that Lord Saville should be 
 remembered by her, in any other light than 
 that of a mere acquaintance. 
 
 All her mother's kindness was deeply felt by 
 Florence, but the more affectionate was the 
 mother's solicitude, the more painful were the 
 recollections entertained by the daughter. 
 And yet Florence never contemplated the pos- 
 sibility of finding any relief from the sorrow 
 which oppressed her by confiding the cause of 
 it to her mother. Having erred in the first 
 instance, she appeared determined to persevere 
 in her fault ; and to stifle the voice of her own 
 heart, which prompted a different line of pro-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 287 
 
 ceeding, she had recourse to the usual false 
 reasoning of those whose judgment condemns 
 what their passions dictate. She endeavoured 
 to persuade herself that it was better not to 
 add to the unhappiness her parents experienced 
 upon her account, by confessing her fault; 
 while, in reality, a mingled sense of shame and 
 mortification was the chief cause of her silence. 
 Florence trembled too, lest the anger of her 
 father should fall upon Gerald, and she had 
 never ventured to pronounce his name, much 
 as she longed to know if any tidings of him 
 had been received during her illness. She re- 
 collected, with anguish, the last time she had 
 heard him mentioned, and though momentarily, 
 she repeated to herself, that ''whom he tra- 
 velled with or where he went could be nothing 
 to her," yet she would have given worlds to 
 have only known the place of his destination, 
 and to have heard the report contradicted, 
 which lay like a heavy weight upon her heart.
 
 288 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 In vain Florence's pride was aroused by the 
 recollection of Gerald's manner to her; in vain 
 she struggled against the thoughts of other 
 days. They crowded thick and fast upon her 
 mind, and even at the moment when she knew 
 such recollections to be culpable, she felt that 
 to forget him she had loved was impossible. 
 
 Thus it is with any one who has really loved. 
 It is possible to forgive even the most cruel 
 unkindness. The trusting heart that bleeds 
 while it pardons, may live on in the hope that 
 such harshness arose not from a desire to 
 wound ; or resoltition may sever the tie which 
 binds the loving to the faithless, and drag on a 
 weary existence, supported by pride and indig- 
 nant feeling. But to forget the loved one is 
 utterly impossible. We cannot bury the recol- 
 lection of all that once made our life bright as 
 a summer's day, and bid it sleep as in a tomb. 
 It will burst its bonds and stand before us 
 unbidden. It will even haunt our path, and
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 289 
 
 the spectre of lost happiness in its shadowy 
 form, will be dearer — far dearer than all that 
 the brightness of the world's favour can after- 
 wards give us. Even though unworthy, the 
 truly loved one is ever unforgotten ; and the 
 mournful consciousness of misplaced affection 
 cannot efface the recollection of the idol which 
 our hope and fancy have created. 
 
 Florence had been for some time in this 
 state of despondency before she would consent 
 to receive any visits except from her parents 
 or her sisters. Most of her time had been 
 passed alone, until at last, yielding to the 
 entreaties of her cousin, Lady Julia, she 
 admitted her to her presence. 
 
 From that moment she ap])eared to revive, 
 and very soon, from a short daily visit, the 
 interview of the two cousins increased to hours 
 of quiet and uninterrupted conversation. 
 
 The natural dislike of Lady Brandon to her 
 niece had by no means abated. Lady Mar- 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 wood's unfeeling desertion of her, at the mo- 
 ment of the imminent danger of Florence, 
 would, no doubt, have made a deep impression 
 upon her mind, had she not been so much 
 overwhelmed by grief as scarcely to be aware 
 of her absence ; and the plausibility of her 
 speeches since her return from Pembury had 
 completely succeeded in dispelling any un- 
 pleasant recollection there might have been in 
 the mind of Sir William upon the subject. 
 
 Lady Brandon, who had seen, with despair, 
 the continued depression of Florence, was 
 delighted at the improvement which had lately 
 taken place, and her kind heart warmed to- 
 wards Lady Julia, when she perceived that her 
 unremitting attentions really appeared most 
 acceptable to her daughter. 
 
 And yet, during these long conversations of 
 the cousins, the name that was ever upon the 
 lips of Florence had never been uttered by her, 
 and Lady Julia did not appear to recollect
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 291 
 
 that such a person as Gerald De Grey was 
 in existence. It was not, therefore, for the 
 pleasure of talking of him that Florence hailed 
 with gladness the time that brought her 
 cousin to her side ; it was the mystic power of 
 an implied sympathy, upon which Lady Julia 
 had safely calculated for bringing her victim 
 more completely into her hands. 
 
 Lady Julia did not venture to alarm Florence 
 by indiscreetly forcing herself upon her confi- 
 dence. As far as words went, Florence might 
 safely have imagined that her secret was un- 
 suspected by her cousin. But how unnecessary 
 are words to convey the full force of a truth 
 to a susceptible imagination ! Lady Julia, an 
 adept in artifice and all the petty stratagems 
 which can so effectually mislead a young and 
 inexperienced mind, took care never to confine 
 herself to any one particular point of attack, where 
 the plain good sense of Florence might have 
 met her, and at once pointed out the fallacy of
 
 292 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 lier arguments. Her words were most carefully 
 guarded, her advice clothed in the most plau- 
 sible language, her consolations tendered with 
 affectionate simplicity, as if the tranquillity and 
 happiness of Florence were her only thought ; 
 and yet she uttered not a word, however con- 
 cealed by the minings and counterminings of 
 deceit, that did not directly tend to the fur- 
 therance of her object, the strengthening of 
 every feeling which the heart and mind of 
 Florence condemned, even while yielding to 
 them, and a blind submission to the will and 
 guidance of her who had marked her as her 
 own. 
 
 The hatred of Lady Julia towards her cousin 
 had increased tenfold since the abrupt termi- 
 nation of her hopes with regard to Lord Saville. 
 Even her sanguine disposition could not but 
 admit that every chance in that quarter was 
 lost for ever. She had made herself acquainted 
 with the manner of his departure from Wandes-
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 293 
 
 ford, and saw too plainly that the coldness of 
 Florence had been the real cause of his sudden 
 determination. 
 
 Frantic from the certainty that Florence had 
 been the means of overturning her long -che- 
 rished scheme, Lady Julia resolved to devote 
 herself solely to the luxury of revenge. Her 
 hatred of the whole family was unbounded, and 
 to humble and distress them was now her dearest 
 hope. The means, if used with dexterity, she 
 knew to be within her power; and she resolved 
 that no time or patience should be wanting on 
 her part to accomplish her object. Her mind 
 revelled in the sorrow of others. Wickedness, 
 and treachery in its blackest form, was her 
 delight. An evil spirit seemed to walk upon 
 the earth embodied in her form ; and the 
 talent and quickness with which she had been 
 gifted, only served as a disguise under wliich 
 her vicious nature might effectually conceal 
 itself. Without one redeeming qualit}^, she 
 o2
 
 294 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 appeared destined to cause the misery of all 
 who came within her reach ; and as, even in 
 this world, such a character could not remain 
 unpunished, her own life seemed to have been 
 marked out with retributive justice, from the 
 constant succession it had always afforded of 
 mortification and failure. 
 
 The danger of allowing so great an intimacy 
 to exist between a girl of the age of Florence 
 and a woman of Lady Julia's character, must 
 have been evident, even to the extreme sim- 
 plicity of a mind like Lady Brandon's, had she 
 been at all aware of the real nature of her 
 niece's disposition : but of this she was totally 
 ignorant. Lady Julia was too well practised in 
 dissimulation to allow her motives to be dis- 
 covered. Lady Brandon thought her vain, fri- 
 volous, and discontented, but the darker shades 
 of her nature remained concealed j and, as her 
 faults were of a description which did not 
 threaten any danger to Florence, Lady Brandon
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 295 
 
 continued to encourage a friendship which ap- 
 peared to give pleasure to her child, little ima- 
 gining that she was only hastening the moment 
 when the deadly coils of the serpent should be 
 entwined so firmly around her victim as to 
 leave no chance of her escape. 
 
 The mind of Florence, tortured by regret, 
 and subdued by bodily weakness, had already 
 undergone some little change from the assi- 
 duous endeavours of Lady Julia to pervert in- 
 directly the principles and opinions she did not 
 dare openly to attack. Dissatisfied with her- 
 self, Florence in the absence of her cousin 
 never enjoyed a moment of tranquiUity. When 
 in the society of her mother, the excessive fond- 
 ness which Lady Brandon always testified for 
 her, was an eternal reproach to the sensitive 
 nature of Florence ; and when her sisters came 
 with their sweet caressing ways, and innocent 
 words of love, to cheer and comfort her, she 
 would shudder and disengage herself from their
 
 296 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 embrace, as though some secret thought re- 
 vealed to her that she was no longer pure 
 enough for a love like theirs. It was only when 
 Lady Julia sat beside her, that she felt, as it 
 were, justified in what she was doing, and, 
 deceived by her specious reasoning, she persisted 
 in cherishing in secret a remembrance which 
 she did not dare to confess. 
 
 Lady Julia was amply rewarded for the in- 
 defatioable manner in which she had devoted 
 herself to her purpose, by perceiving how com- 
 pletely she had succeeded in obtaining an 
 ascendancy over the very superior intellect of 
 Florence. She knew well that at her age, when 
 the affections have taken so strong a hold, it is 
 a very difficult task to displace them, and the 
 efforts of cold and calculatingr reason are little 
 likely to be called into requisition. 
 
 Some time had now elapsed since Florence 
 had been sufficiently recovered to leave the 
 house. Her daily rides and drives had been
 
 THE LOVE-MATCH. 297 
 
 resumed, and every thing went on as usual at 
 Wandesford. Lady Marwood managed to have 
 her whist every evening, and had quite re- 
 covered from the penance of her visit to Pem- 
 bury. She did not appear to have the least 
 intention of quitting her brother's house ; and 
 as Lady Julia seemed equally well satisfied to 
 remain, she would probably have protracted 
 her visit to a very unusual length, had she not, 
 most unexpectedly, received a letter from Lord 
 Marwood, her only son, announcing his imme- 
 diate return to England. 
 
 Lord Marwood had been travelling abroad 
 for some time, but as he was to attain his 
 majority the following month, he had, it ap- 
 peared, determined to return home, and cele- 
 brate the joyful event at Marwood Castle. He 
 wrote to entreat that his mother and sister 
 would be at the Castle to receive him, and that 
 they would order all necessary preparations to
 
 298 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 be made for a grand f^te to the tenantry, and 
 all customary rejoicings in the good old Scottish 
 style. 
 
 Lady Marwood was enchanted. There was 
 nothingin which she so much delighted as bustle 
 and display; and as all was of course to be 
 ordered in her son*s name, she was satisfied 
 that no part of the expense could fall upon her, 
 and she resolved that every thing should be as 
 well done as possible. 
 
 No time was to be lost ; the letter had been 
 delayed upon the road, and there was little 
 more than a fortnight before the birth-day of 
 Lord Marwood, which left only just time 
 enough for the necessary announcements and 
 preparations. Marwood Castle was situated in 
 Scotland and but a short distance from the 
 English border, but as Lady Marwood disliked 
 travelling fast, she determined to set off with- 
 out any delay.
 
 . THE LOVE-MATCH. 299 
 
 The startling announcement of the sudden 
 departure of her cousin was any thing but 
 agreeable to Florence. She had become so 
 accustomed to her society, that a feeling of 
 loneliness came over her as she contemplated 
 the future, and the many long days which she 
 must spend alone. But a little time back, 
 and Florence had not a thought, not a wish, 
 beyond the happiness her own home contained 
 for her. But now she was not so happy, and 
 she expressed herself in such affectionate terms 
 of regret to her cousin upon hearing of their 
 intended journey, that Lady Julia suddenly 
 conceived the idea of taking her with them to 
 Marwood. 
 
 Florence did not object, and Lady Marwood, 
 who did not care much what happened when it 
 did not in any way affect her personal comfort, 
 made no opposition to their scheme. There 
 was plenty of room in the coach, and Florence 
 would look very handsome at the fete, so Lady
 
 300 THE LOVE-MATCH. 
 
 Marwood smilingly seconded her daughter's 
 invitations; and it was agreed, that if Lady 
 Brandon did not object, Florence should ac- 
 company them next day ^o Marwood Castle. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY MOYES AND BARCLAY, CASTLE STREET, 
 
 LEICESTER SQUARE.
 
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