^3 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^
 
 a I E) R.ARY 
 
 OF THE 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 &2S 
 
 v.l
 
 c 
 
 U:^/ 
 
 ^/^^
 
 THE 
 
 SECOND WIFE 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 O Low much more doth beauty beauteous seem 
 By that sweet ornament which Truth doth give! 
 
 The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem. 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 
 SHAXSFJEAa^'S SONIf£TS. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HUEST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN. 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 1857.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
 
 
 
 CO 
 
 S THE SECOND WIFE, 
 
 CO 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 \ " So, Mainwaring, the fiat is gone forth ! 
 '^ and this seemingly interminable parliament 
 > ceases to exist on the seventeenth of next 
 month !" said Clarence Egerton, as, having 
 ^ achieved the ascent to the first floor of No. 3, 
 :> Albany, he entered his friend's apartments un- 
 ^ announced. '* And now, my dear fellow, to 
 
 Alringham as fast as you can !" 
 
 ^ "I have decided to go down into — shire 
 
 next week," quietly returned the party addressed, 
 
 raising his eyes from an intent perusal of the 
 
 :' " Times " leading article, and his person from 
 
 ;.the recesses of an unexceptionable lounging 
 
 ^ chair, to meet Egerton's proffered greeting. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 '' It would be asking too much of you, 
 Clarence, I suppose, to suggest your accom- 
 panying me to share the dull delights of a 
 county canvass, in the very zenith of the 
 season ?" 
 
 Without noticing the latter remark, Egerton 
 replied with quickness : " You have decided ! 
 Why ! my good friend, are you a clairvoyant P 
 The dissolution was only fixed last night, or 
 rather this morning, after a Cabinet dinner in 
 Jermyn Street. I had it from Compton, with 
 whom I breakfasted very early, at the Carlton. 
 You know my matinal habits. But the fact 
 was, we returned so late from Ascot, that, as I 
 was on duty this morning, at eight, it was not 
 worth while going to bed at all. Well ! thank 
 your luck, Mainwaring, which has sent you an 
 active, business-like friend, who watches for you 
 the aspect of the political world, whilst you 
 speculate with authors, dream with antiquaries, 
 lounge v^ith artists, flirt with countesses, and 
 are found with an untouched breakfast at twelve 
 o'clock in the day 1" 
 
 Ernest Mainwaring smiled. And there w^as 
 something so winning in his smile that you
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 3 
 
 seemed to wish for no other answer than that 
 which it conveyed. The dark brown eyes, the 
 finely-cut mouth, and curved nostril, the open 
 brow — in short, the whole countenance contri- 
 buted to form that smile. And its charm was 
 not dispelled when you listened to the tone of 
 the finely-organized voice. 
 
 " I plead guilty, Egerton ! and have nothing 
 to adduce in palliation of my laziness but Lord 
 Algernon Vere's clever paper in the * Quar- 
 terly,' which led me into an investigation that 
 abridged the first full half of ray night's rest. 
 But, on this occasion, though I have no pre- 
 tence to clairvoyance, the 'Times,' as usual, 
 has," and he pointed to the before-mentioned 
 postscript. " Your intelligence, however, brings 
 * confirmation strong.' iVnd now, since you 
 breakfasted with the lark, perhaps you may be 
 ready to make a second dejeuner with the 
 future member for — shire." 
 
 *' Why — no ! I think not," said Egerton, 
 " The fact is, I expect to make my next de- 
 jeuner on the lovely banks of the Thames, as I 
 have the misfortune to be enlisted for Lady 
 Armadale's pic-nic, where broils will be plenti- 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 ful. Alas ! for the fair complexions under this 
 Indian sun ! By the bj^e, Ernest, you, of course, 
 are among the * fashionable and distinguished ' 
 crowd to whom her ladyship proposes to do the 
 honours of Richmond Park! What time do 
 you leave here ?" 
 
 " I shall not be of the party," was the short 
 reply. 
 
 " You will not ! and why not ? — that is, if 
 you have no objection to naming your reason," 
 and Clarence bent a curious look upon his 
 friend's countenance. 
 
 "None in the world. It is simply that I 
 have a dinner engagement at Mivart's, to the 
 Bloomfields, neighbours of mine in — shire." 
 
 "The Bloomfields! Why, Mainwaring, I 
 have been raving to you of Miss Bloomfield 
 these ten days, yet you never told me you knew 
 her !" 
 
 " Indeed, Egerton. I never heard you men- 
 tion her name." 
 
 " And you never discovered by intuition that 
 she is the propitious little heiress who is to en- 
 dow the 'junior branch' (as the Peerages call 
 us) of the Egertons, with that wealth and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. D 
 
 affluence for which nature and habit has so 
 eminently fitted him !" 
 
 " Nonsense, Egerton ! No man on earth so 
 unlikely to marry from such a motive ! The 
 fastidious Clarence Egerton, forsooth — who cri- 
 ticises alike the blushes of the rose, and the 
 paleness of the lily — to find his beau ideal in 
 Georgy Bloomfield !" 
 
 " Amiable friend ! And so you count for 
 nothing my admiration of youthful innocence, 
 rural naivete — and so forth — that charm so 
 speedily destroyed by the artificial atmosphere 
 of this metropolitan concatenation of glaze, and 
 perfume, and wax-lights." 
 
 " Artificial indeed !" warmly reiterated Ernest. 
 " And I agree with you that there is nothing so 
 refreshing as to turn from the heartless Aa&i^wee^ 
 of the London world, to the refined association 
 of a mind untainted by the false standards of 
 society, and a heart whose native delicacy has 
 not been the sport of even- selfish coxcomb. 
 Seriously, though, Egerton, let me beg you, as a 
 favour, not to add to the evil in the case of my 
 neighbour, Miss Bloomfield ; for your wonted 
 charming nothings may turn her little vain
 
 6 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 head, though they fall scatheless on the well- 
 cased organs of our elegantes of Almack's." 
 
 " Seriously, Mainwaring, never trouble your 
 excellent head and heart as to the fatal effects 
 of a man's attentions who has nothing but his 
 commission in the Guards. Were I to propose 
 to Miss Bloomfield (who is, I can tell you, just 
 as much of a coquette as the rest of her sex), 
 her emotions would be strictly confined to the 
 pleasure of announcing to her friends in the 
 country that she had refused one of the most 
 fashionable men about town ! And trust me, 
 my good fellow ! — no disparagement to your 
 well-known captivations — fourteen thousand a 
 year, and Alringham, are not altogether distaste- 
 ful to the gentle hearts whose every aspiration 
 turns towards Ernest Mainwaring." 
 
 His companion coloured. " No such case 
 exists, as you must well know, Egerton !" Er- 
 nest spoke the truth, as he beheved, but, like 
 many men in his position, he was mistaken. 
 " But you misjudge women, if you think — " 
 he was continuing, when at the moment the 
 door opened, and his servant announced Sir 
 Perceval Grant,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 7 
 
 The gentleman who now entered was a tall 
 and very spare man, of an age, perhaps, some- 
 what beyond sixty. His face had a wan and 
 faded look, but his pale blue eyes, deeply sunk 
 in their sockets, wore the blandest of expres- 
 sions, and the soft grey hair, parted on his brow, 
 added to the benignity of his aspect. There 
 was a certain supple elegance in his figure, 
 which seemed on the model of the days gone 
 bye. And had an artist chosen where to place 
 the portrait of Sir Perceval Grant, he would 
 have pictured him amongst a group of courtiers 
 at Versailles or Marly, or as the accomplished 
 host of a lordly palace in the Faubourg St. Ger- 
 main. 
 
 Sir Perceval extended a hand with much cor- 
 diality to each of the young men ; then quietly 
 gliding into Sifauteuil, he addressed Mainwaring, 
 on whom he fixed his grey eyes with a steady, 
 mouse-like stillness. 
 
 " How charmed I am, my dear fellow, to 
 offer my congratulations on your approaching 
 felicity 1 You really are one of the luckiest men 
 in the world !" 
 
 *'l! and for what?" said his astonished auditor.
 
 8 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " For what ! when the whole town is talking 
 of you ! Come, Mainwaring, this is too much. 
 And when is the happy event to come off ?" 
 
 Ernest looked at Egerton, and Egerton looked 
 at Ernest. 
 
 *' On my soul, I don't understand a word of 
 it/' was Clarence's cool reply to his friend's 
 unspoken inquiry. 
 
 Sir Perceval smiled complacently. " Ha ! 
 you don't understand. Well, really, our friend 
 Mainwaring's composure affords an admirable 
 exemplification of the motto of my excellent 
 friend Courtenay, ' Quod verum tutum.' Per- 
 haps, Egerton, you have not seen the * Post ' 
 this morning. Is it here ?" 
 
 " No ! Mainwaring reads the ' Times ' chez 
 luij^ said Clarence. 
 
 " Ah — true. I happen, however, to have a 
 copy of the ' Post ' in my pocket." Sir Per- 
 ceval had provided for the emergency. " And 
 I am sure, Captain Egerton, on the perusal of this 
 paragraph, you will add your felicitations to mine." 
 
 He drew the journal from the pocket of his 
 loose morning coat, and, presenting it to Eger- 
 ton, pointed to the following passage :
 
 the second wife. 9 
 
 " Approaching Marriage in High Life. — 
 We have authority for announcing that the 
 beautiful and richly-dowered Countess of Arma- 
 dale, widow of Robert, fifth Earl of Armadale, is 
 about to bestow her hand on !Mr. Mainwarins:, 
 the distinguished and talented proprietor of the 
 Alringham estates in — shire, and of Claverton 
 Court in — shire. For the representation of the 
 former of these counties, report says that this 
 gentleman intends to become a candidate at the 
 ensuing election." 
 
 Clarence Egerton read the paragraph ; then, 
 without comment, handed it over to Ernest. 
 With a very slight smile, Mainwaring glanced 
 his eye over it, and laid down the paper. But 
 something seemed to have caught his attention, 
 and he took it up again. His eyes were, how- 
 ever, directed to a different column. 
 
 Both his companions were watching his coun- 
 tenance, though with different degrees of inte- 
 rest. At length, seeing him altogether absorbed 
 by the present subject of his cogitations, and 
 quite in despair of his offering any spontaneous 
 remark, Clarence's patience gave way.
 
 10 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Pray, Mainwaring, do you discover in the 
 obituary corner there, any reason to suppose 
 that Robert, fifth Earl of Armadale, has come to 
 life again ? — or has some envious heir appeared 
 to dispute the Countess's dowry, that you turn 
 a deaf ear to the claims of friendship, and the 
 laws of courtesy ? Here are Sir Perceval and 
 myself dying to exhaust Chesterfield upon the 
 occasion, and you coolly lay aside the paragraph, 
 as rather beneath your notice than otherwise, 
 while you bend those dangerous eyes of yours 
 on the list of births, deaths, and marriages so 
 earnestly, that one would think you w^ere looking 
 for a legacy, or losing nfiancee.^' 
 
 " ' Honi soit — ' " said Ernest, and he laid 
 dow^n the paper. " T was merely reading the 
 announcement of Sir Reginald Estcourte's mar- 
 riage. As to the absurd report you speak of, I 
 have not the honour of confirming it ; and you 
 will oblige me, both, by meeting it with a direct 
 contradiction, on my authority, should any of 
 my friends think it worth their while to 
 repeat it." 
 
 Sir Perceval noted the decision of the voice 
 and manner, and was satisfied. His point was
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 11 
 
 gained, and, with perfect tact, he pursued it no 
 further. 
 
 " Sir Reginald Estcourte is a friend of 
 yours V" he said, interrogatively. " I well re- 
 member meeting him and the late Lady Emily, 
 some few years ago, at the Duke of Hamp- 
 shire's. A charming person, she was. Did 
 she leave a son ?" 
 
 " Only two daughters," responded Ernest. 
 
 *' Ah ! then, naturally. Sir Reginald wishes 
 for an heir. And are his daughters as lovely 
 and fascinating as their mother ?" 
 
 " One of them is a child. Yes ! I think 
 Miss Estcourte is considered rather pretty." 
 And Ernest again took up the invaluable 
 " Morning Post." 
 
 " You have not yet told us who is Sir Regi- 
 nald's second choice. She will have to stand a 
 hard test in the comparison with her predeces- 
 sor," said the persevering querist. 
 
 Mainwaring read the announcement. 
 
 " Yesterday, at St. Ives, by the venerable the 
 
 Dean of , Sir Reginald Estcourte, Bart., 
 
 of Charnwood Priory, county of , to Edith,
 
 12 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 second daughter of the very reverend Archibald 
 Sydney, D.D., Bishop of the Diocese." 
 
 " Really ! upon my word ! one of the Syd- 
 neys — a delightful family, and old friends of 
 mine. A strange adventure poor George Syd- 
 ney and I had one night at a ball at the Tuile- 
 ries. Louis Phihppe, who, you know, was 
 always partial to English literature — " 
 
 But Ernest was not fated to know in what 
 manner on that particular evening the ex-king's 
 Anglican predilection had been developed. For 
 Egerton, who had, during the foregoing conver- 
 sation, walked towards the vdndow, and amused 
 himself by perusing his letters, which, in the 
 unusual despatch of the morning, had been un- 
 ceremoniously thrust into his pocket, here sud- 
 denly burst forth with : 
 
 " On my life, Mainwaring, here's a tornado 
 in petto !" 
 
 Sir Perceval and Ernest turned to him in- 
 quiringly. He continued : 
 
 " Here's my cousin, St. Ormonde, who writes, 
 that having heard that, in the event of an elec- 
 tion, Mr. Mainwaring of Alringham has an-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 13 
 
 nounced his intention of standing for the repre- 
 sentation of south — shire, he, Lord St. Or- 
 monde, disapproving of Mr. Mainwaring's prin- 
 ciples, considers it to be his duty to give his 
 support to a candidate whose opinions on na- 
 tional policy, and, above all, on Church govern- 
 ment, shall coincide with his own. In short, 
 since no one comes forward, and St. Ormonde 
 can find no cousin more available, he begs your 
 humble servant to transport himself without 
 loss of time into — shire, and, armed with the 
 St. Ormonde interest, &c. — to contest the county 
 with Ernest Mainwaring. Now, what do you 
 think of that, my good friend ?" 
 
 " I think that I am far too much your friend 
 to quarrel with you upon politics, Egerton, if 
 you think proper to accept Lord St. Ormonde's 
 proposal. But how is it you never told me 
 he was your cousin ?" 
 
 " Why, to say the truth, I almost forgot it 
 myself. For, when I saw him last, a schoolboy 
 at Eton, he was a puny, spiritless lad. But he 
 seems to have come on wonderfully. Really, 
 Mainwaring, this young generation will quite 
 push us off the boards ' If you know St. Or-
 
 14 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 monde, I must come to you for information. 
 He can hardly be twenty-one, I think ?'* 
 
 "Yes, he was of age last autumn," said 
 Mainwaring. " But, poor fellow ! his health is 
 so delicate that he is advised to pass the winters 
 in the south, in order to avert, if possible, that 
 fatal disease which deprived him so early of his 
 father; and, I believe, the late Countess also 
 fell a victim to it. So that he is but little at 
 the Abbey. I heard of him last winter at Rome." 
 
 " Ah !" interrupted Sir Perceval, " and that 
 reminds me that Onslow has just reappeared 
 from classic land, and he tells me marvels of the 
 sensation created by La belle Helene. When do 
 you expect your sister in England ?" 
 
 " I hope she will join me shortly at Airing- 
 ham," replied Ernest. " She had reached 
 Brussels when I heard from her last. Well, 
 Egerton, and what do you intend to do ?" 
 
 " The thing is altogether out of my line. But 
 I may, perhaps, take it into consideration for 
 your sake." 
 
 " For my sake 1" reiterated Mainwaring. 
 
 " Yes, certainly — for whose else ? St. Or- 
 monde has evidently got up some boyish
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 15 
 
 quackery, which he wants to thrust down the 
 throats of the good people of — shire. Now 
 if he meets with some other unfledged prac- 
 titioner as unskilled as himself, they may do 
 mischief; while I flatter myself that in my 
 experienced hands those poisonous drugs will 
 come out so entirely diluted, so exquisitely per- 
 fumed, and so delicately flavoured, that the dose 
 will have lost its efficacy. Besides, Ernestj^^I 
 should be sorry to deprive you of 
 
 * That sharp joy which clansmen feel 
 In foemen worthy of their steel.' " 
 
 " On the same principle that you used to 
 fight your best friends at Eton," interposed 
 Mainwaring. 
 
 " Exactly. I shall therefore answer my young 
 Lord by stating, in the first place, my regret 
 that the present depressed state of the British 
 army puts it altogether out of the power of a 
 gentleman, receiving only the pay of a captain 
 in Her Majesty's — th Regiment of Foot Guards, 
 to contest a county on his ow-n resources — and 
 that, on entering parliament, one of my first 
 eflforts shall be to remedy this evil. That, being
 
 16 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 no politician, and not possessing a foot of land 
 within the United Kingdoms, I am quite ready 
 to reform until we get a government with which 
 nobody finds fault — or to pay off the National 
 Debt. That, being no theologian, I never yet 
 was able to discover that any church was in 
 any danger, but am ready to constitute myself 
 an ecclesiastical Don Quixote on a moment's 
 notice. In short, that having neither property, 
 politics, nor principles, I am entirely and alto- 
 gether at his lordship's disposal." 
 
 " Bravo ! Captain Egerton," said Sir Per- 
 ceval. " Your oratorical powers, at least, you 
 need not disclaim." 
 
 " And do you intend to indulge your con- 
 stituents with the like sentiments ?" 
 
 " By no means. I shall gravely descant to 
 those ' worthy and independent gentlemen ' on 
 the crisis in my country's fate which has led me 
 to the resolution of combining the sterner duties 
 of a soldier with the more laborious, and even 
 more responsible position of a legislator. Then 
 I shall touch with pathos upon the peculiar 
 position in which I find myself placed, called 
 upon by my principles to sacrifice the most
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 17 
 
 valued claims of friendship, and the dearest 
 ties of social feeling, in my opposition to the 
 rival candidate — with a graceful allusion to the 
 elder Brutus (it was Brutus, I think, !Main- 
 waring — but you will be there to prompt me in 
 my classics), and a grave doubt whether the 
 friendship of those Greek gentlemen, whose 
 names I really forget — but one of them, you 
 know, Mainwanng, killed the queen-mother ?" 
 
 " Orestes," said Ernest, laughing. 
 
 " Exactly so — whether the friendship of 
 Orestes and Pylades would have stood a con- 
 tested election, I shall draw largely upon public 
 sympathy for the magnanimity with which, in 
 case of my friend's success, I shall forget that 
 we were opponents, and regret but the failure 
 of the glorious cause 1" 
 
 " Really," remarked Ernest, " we shall enact 
 a new comedy of ' The Rivals.' But 1 advise 
 you, as a friend, not to dwell too much upon 
 failure. You know the spirit of electioneering 
 tactics is confidence." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, I wish you joy of your 
 fraternal contest," said Sir Perceval, " and 
 perhaps I may look in upon you for the 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 curiosity of the thing. When do you take the 
 field ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I shall leave all the canvassing and 
 hard fighting to my allies on the spot," returned 
 Clarence, " and when Mainwaring is ready to 
 quit the field, I shall come up, and walk over 
 the ground like the Prussians at Waterloo." 
 
 " You will not leave town before the High- 
 land fete ? And, a-propos of that — of course 
 I meet you both this afternoon at Lady Arma- 
 dale's dejeuner .?" 
 
 And without waiting for an answer to either 
 interrogatory, though both were uttered in a 
 tone of deep interest and empressement. Sir 
 Perceval resumed possession of his cane : and, 
 adding, as he replaced his hat with the most 
 complacent of smiles, " Au revoir" he passed 
 from the room. We say " passed," for the 
 transit was accomplished so noiselessly, that it 
 might have been his shadow. 
 
 Sir Perceval w^as a person of considerable 
 importance to " the w^orld," for he humoured 
 its prejudices, flattered its pride, expended his 
 compliments on the ladies, his anecdotes on the 
 gentlemen, and his inexhaustible wealth in
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 19 
 
 bringing them agreeably together — and it must 
 be added — for he was not wanting in good 
 nature — his best efforts in serving a friend's 
 interest when it did not interfere with his own. 
 And, " the world" on the other hand, was of 
 considerable importance to Sir Perceval ; it 
 admired his wit, it courted his patronage, it 
 stooped from its high places to adorn his fetes, 
 and was all gratitude in its mediocre ones for 
 being admitted to them. And Sir Perceval 
 and " the world" were on the very best 
 terms. 
 
 Nevertheless, like his fellow men, Sir Perce- 
 val had his point to gain. He was, with one 
 solitary exception, alone in the world : and the 
 exception, to a man of his temperament, was 
 far from a consolatory one. He had, early in 
 life, married a foreign lady of considerable rank, 
 the widow of an Italian nobleman, and fifteen 
 years his senior. But she was a stepping stone 
 to his ambition, which his position at the time 
 rendered expedient. And, as the Marchesa 
 spent her days in the dole e far niente of a luxu- 
 rious apartment, half boudoir, half conservatory, 
 which her Italian taste had added to their house 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 in Carlton Gardens, varying her graceful indo- 
 lence by occasional caresses to their httle boy, 
 and her evenings at the Opera, the connubial 
 felicity of Sir Perceval and his wife was never 
 seriously interrupted. 
 
 She had had the good taste, too, to make 
 Sir Perceval the happy father of one fine bloom- 
 ing boy, and no more. The baronet was proud 
 of his son ; and, as he saw the beautiful, pictu- 
 resque lad, in tartan and trewes, with Highland 
 cap and feather, riding by his side, the admira- 
 tion of the whole park. Sir Perceval might be 
 said to love his son. And when, some ten 
 years subsequently, the young Archibald having 
 become an elegant and accomplished youth, 
 the Marchesa died, just as her son was entering 
 at Oxford, Sir Perceval considered that she had 
 performed her part very well indeed. 
 
 As the university terms revolved. Sir Perce- 
 val's hopes clustered yet more thickly and fondly 
 around his heir. Archibald was talented, and 
 persevering also ; he was equally brilliant and 
 profound. He took all the honours of his 
 year ; and when he announced to his father his 
 splendid degree, Sir Perceval laid down the
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 21 
 
 letter a few minutes before finishing it, to con- 
 sider what alliance within the comprehensive 
 circle of his acquaintance would be distinguished 
 enough for a young man of such attainments, 
 and with such prospects. 
 
 He took up the letter again, and read the 
 next paragraph. It contained a modest, but 
 perfectly cool announcement that Archibald, 
 his heir— the intended suitor of the Lady 
 Augusta Plantagenet — was married — and — 
 to the daughter of his Oxford tailor ! 
 
 Alas for Sir Perceval ! was it pride or affec- 
 tion that suffered now ? Perhaps the former I 
 perhaps both ! The hlase man of the world had 
 one vulnerable point, and through that he was 
 wounded ; but not mortally. 
 
 He wrote to his son in terms which we leave 
 to the reader's imagination. In conclusion, 
 he laid his commands upon his degraded idol 
 — for still he was his idol — that in case the 
 union were irrevocable, he should proceed at 
 once with his wife to the continent, and delay 
 the announcement until the marriage had been 
 again celebrated at such a distance as to veil, 
 ia some degree, the mesalliance. Sir Perceval
 
 22 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 held out hopes, in case of strict obedience, that 
 Archibald and his roturiere bride, after a suit- 
 able period of exile had elapsed to allow public 
 curiosity to find other channels, might possibly 
 be readmitted to the sunshine of the paternal 
 countenance, and — what seemed to him even 
 more enviable — the delights of the London beau 
 monde. 
 
 The conflict had been severe, and the conces- 
 sion bitter. But Sir Perceval's letter met with 
 instant acquiescence; and a distant, though 
 clouded hope, once more encircled his son's 
 image in his mental vision as time wore on. 
 Scarcely a year had elapsed, and he received 
 a third letter from his son ; the second had 
 merely conveyed an announcement of the repe- 
 tition of the marriage ceremony at Nice. This 
 was dated from Rome, and conveyed to Sir 
 Perceval a detailed account of his public profes- 
 sion of the Roman Catholic faith, long, as he 
 said, his own, in the Jesuit College of the Pro- 
 paganda. He had, moreover, been ordained 
 to holy orders, involving a separation from the 
 woman for whom he had sacrificed so much. 
 And the forsaken wife, for whom he deliberately
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 23 
 
 begged his father's protection, was, as he 
 informed him, on her way to England. 
 
 Sir Perceval uttered one deep curse on his 
 son — one on his wife's memory — and swore to 
 disown his only child for ever. And he kept 
 his word. From that hour, however, might be 
 dated the sunken eye, and the deeply lined 
 brow, which sometimes impressed observers 
 with the idea that even Sir Perceval had a heart. 
 
 If he had not, he was, at least, not savage 
 in his nature ; and when he saw the pale, deso- 
 late, widowed wife of his son, praying at his 
 feet for protection, and almost for subsistence, 
 he could not find in himself the requisite stern- 
 ness to deny her the shelter of his house, or 
 the countenance of his name. 
 
 It was, then, to this uncongenial inmate that 
 Sir Perceval's domestic sympathies were con- 
 fined. And, as years wore on, and the world 
 had helped to heal the wound which it had been 
 the means, at first, of deepening, so that nothing 
 but the scar remained, Mrs. Grant and her 
 father-in-law saw less and less of each other. 
 Unnoticed in his circle, and rarely visible even 
 at his home, she wore away a passive and
 
 24 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 apparently objectless existence — and few were 
 even conscious of the nature cf her claims upon 
 the owner of the mansion. 
 
 But the world told the gay and fascinating Sir 
 Perceval that his house wanted a mistress — and 
 he thought so too. And amid the glittering 
 crowds of fair aspirans, Sir Perceval could find 
 none so likely to add to the dignity, prestige, 
 and eclat, both of himself and of his house, as 
 the beautiful and wealthy Countess of Arma- 
 dale. 
 
 It was, therefore, natural that he should lose 
 no time in ascertaining the truth of the impor- 
 tant paragraph in the ' Morning Post,' to which 
 we have directed the reader's attention. And, 
 as Ernest Main waring, besides being a manly 
 and handsome fellow, quaHties to which report 
 said Lady Armadale was not insensible, pos- 
 sessed all the advantages of eight and twenty 
 over sixty, Sir Perceval's alarm was certainly not 
 ill founded. 
 
 We have seen how completely his fears were 
 dissipated by Mainwaring's prompt disavowal of 
 the whole affair, and with what entirely restored 
 complacency he resumed his place in his
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 25 
 
 brougham, and issued orders to his coachman 
 to drive to Carlton Gardens. (Sir Perceval had 
 some slight alterations to make in his toilette pre- 
 viously to joining the countess's privileged few in 
 Belgrave Square.) It occurred to him, however, 
 as he emptied a bottle of "jasmin" upon his 
 handkerchief, to wonder how that lying news- 
 paper dared to claim " authority " for the 
 obnoxious paragraph. 
 
 Sir Perceval's departure from Mainwaring's 
 rooms had apparently reminded Clarence Eger- 
 ton that time was, in like manner, gliding away, 
 for he started up, exclaiming : 
 
 " By the way, I have to run into the Arcade 
 for a pair of gloves — then off to Covent Garden 
 for a bouquet for the fair Georgina. I told you 
 she was to be at the breakfast, I think ? No ! 
 — Well she is to be. What did you say was 
 the name of her place in — shire ?" 
 
 " I do not remember even alluding to it," 
 said Ernest ; " but Miss Bloomfield lives with 
 her mother at Marwood." 
 
 " Where, of course, my little Lady Paramount 
 rules supreme ?" asked Egerton. 
 
 " Why, yes. Lady Selina is too gentle to offer
 
 26 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 much opposition to any one, and is, moreover, a 
 malade imaginaire" 
 
 " Very good ! And now, my dear fellow, I 
 wish you joy of your tete-a-tete dinner with the 
 elder lady, to whom you shall talk philosophy, 
 and prescribe tonics, while I propitiate the fair 
 heiress with a choice bouquet of myrtle and 
 roses, followed up judiciously throughout the 
 day by delicate attentions, as wind and tide may 
 vary, in the shape of Eau-de-cologne, Cham- 
 pagne, and otto. Ernest, my good fellow ! before 
 we come in sight of the Whitehall Stairs, I 
 will command every vote on the Marw^ood 
 estate !"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A long minority, Eton, Oxford, and the 
 grand tour, Melton Mowbray, Almacks, and the 
 Nile, had, each separately, and all conjointly, 
 failed in rendering Ernest Mainwaring a martinet, 
 a virtuoso, a jockey, or a coxcomb. He had 
 never deemed it necessary to evince his manli- 
 ness by rejecting the influence of an excellent 
 mother, and the love of a young sister — nor his 
 spirit by riding steeple chases — nor his inde- 
 pendence, by squandering upon vice and folly 
 the ample inheritance committed to his charge 
 by a bountiful Providence, for the welfare of 
 thousands — nor his taste and good breeding by 
 mixing in the society of disengaged young ladies
 
 28 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 very much with the spirit and air of a Pasha at 
 a Circassian fair. 
 
 But to turn from what he was not to what he 
 was — we will only add for the present that the 
 world in general admired his good looks, his 
 distinguished air and manners, and his fifteen 
 thousand a year — and, may be, slightly, his 
 talents and high character. What further claim 
 he possessed to the suffrages of his friends, we 
 must leave to the reader to decide, according to 
 his or her idea of merit. 
 
 On his mother's decease, which had occurred 
 a few years before the opening of our tale, 
 Ernest had found himself, by her justly discern- 
 ing judgment, constituted the. sole guardian of 
 his sister. Helen was several years younger 
 than her brother, and, when deprived of her 
 only surviving parent, her education was not what 
 is termed, finished. Since it was impossible to 
 continue a menage under the circumstances 
 which would have rendered practicable its 
 completion at Alringham, the brother and sister 
 were obliged to separate for a time : and Helen 
 partook of the advantages enjoyed by her cou- 
 sins at Claverton Court, occupied at that time
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 29 
 
 by a brother of her late mother. She subse- 
 quently accompanied them during a two years' 
 residence abroad ; and Alringham had, in con- 
 sequence, been of late almost deserted. Ernest, 
 indeed, occasionally visited the place, but his 
 residence had been short, and chiefly devoted to 
 business, until the autumn preceding the period 
 of our tale, when he had made a more prolonged 
 stay, and had renewed his intercourse and inter- 
 ests in the surrounding neighbourhood. 
 
 It was tosvards Alringham and its vicinities 
 that Mainwaring's thoughts were directed, when 
 he mounted his horse on the afternoon succeed- 
 ing his interview with Clarence Egerton and Sir 
 Perceval, and, by the mere force of habit, turned 
 its head in the direction of the park. Bright 
 equipages swept past him, and fair forms bent 
 gracefully tow-ards him: and he bowed, and 
 lifted his hat, and replaced it, mechanically. For 
 he was in that musing mood, in w^iich external 
 objects affect the faculties much after the fashion 
 of a moving panorama. 
 
 In truth, the morning's conversation had left 
 him subject for reflection. He had long been 
 anxious to enter in earnest upon the business of
 
 30 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 life, by representing his native county in parlia- 
 ment: and in qualifying himself to discharge 
 conscientiously the duties of such a position, he 
 had employed much personal observation, study, 
 and research. Until to day not the slightest 
 intimation had reached him that the object of 
 his desires would meet with any opposition : and 
 now he was equally surprised at the fact itself, 
 and at the quarter from which it originated, the 
 St. Ormonde family and his own having at all 
 times held a strict accordance on political affairs. 
 At present, however, it seemed evident, that even 
 if Egerton persevered not in his whimsical resolu- 
 tion, another candidate would be found. And, 
 although nothing doubting the result, Ernest 
 could not conceal from himself that the hostility 
 of the St. Ormonde interest would ensure a sharp 
 and vigorous contest. 
 
 And, as naturally as might be, he proceeded 
 to pass in review the many sources of support 
 on which he might confidently rely. And why 
 did he first think of Sir Reginald Estcourte ? 
 and why — instead of considering Sir Reginald's 
 opinion on Reforms and Papal Hierarchies, did 
 our hero principally dwell upon the fact which he
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 31 
 
 had learned that morning — that Sir Reginald 
 had just married a second wife, and that the event 
 might affect the happiness of 
 
 " Heigho ! Mr, Mainwaring," exclaimed a 
 voice beside him. " I thought you were at Lady 
 Armadale's fete. I declare I thought every body 
 was there — but you of all the world." 
 
 Mainwaring looked round, and became aware 
 of the presence of a fair aquaintance in the per- 
 son of a young lady, habited a VAmazoney even 
 beyond the extent to which custom permits the 
 less worthy gender, when assuming the cavalier, 
 to entrench upon the costume of the more 
 worthy. Her stiff cravat, and the prononce cut 
 of her habic the less became her, that the young 
 lady was decidedly short, w4th a figure that 
 might have passed indifferently well in feminine 
 attire, but of which the proportions were not of 
 Stultz's models. Her complexion was so blonde 
 as to be almost transparent. 
 
 "If I w^ere inclined to dispute that very 
 sweeping proposition," rephed Ernest, " I 
 should consider it sufficient argument on my 
 side, that I have the pleasure of meeting Miss 
 Louisa Butler here to-day."
 
 32 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Oh ! one cannot be everywhere — -and I have 
 always fifty engagements for every minute, have 
 I not, Major Aubrey ?" simpered the fair Louisa, 
 appealing to the companion, who rode on the 
 other side. "But take my word for it, Mr. 
 Main waring, the countess will never forgive your 
 absence — I am sure I would not. I once knew a 
 lady who dismissed her lover because he fell from 
 his horse and broke his arm when she was ex- 
 pecting him. She said she liked punctuality, and I 
 think she was quite right to show^ so much spirit." 
 
 And as she spoke, the fair asserter of her sex's 
 dignity cast another glance upon her military 
 cavalier, as if to convey the lesson home. 
 Whether he Hstened to the conversation remains 
 doubtful, but Ernest became sensible of two im- 
 pressions. The one was, that if he, as was 
 actually the case, had forgotten the morning's 
 paragraph with regard to his engagement to 
 Lady Armadale, the rest of the world had not — 
 and the other was, that Miss Butler's friend, 
 Major Aul)rey, despite certain pretentions to 
 handsome features and imposing carriage, was a 
 remarkably disagreeable looking man indeed. 
 
 But he had not time to dwell long on either of
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 33 
 
 these interesting topics, for they had ah'eady 
 reached the gardens. And as it happened to he 
 a band day, and the Royal Horse Guards Blue 
 were in the act of performing the march in 
 Norma, the riders mingled with the throng, and 
 conversation ceased. 
 
 When Mainwaring cast his eyes over the 
 gay crowd within the gardens, the first object 
 which encountered them was Clarence Egerton, 
 who, apparently obhvious of pic-nics or of 
 heiresses, was quietly perambulating the broa 
 walk at Kensington, in attendance upon a 
 party of ladies, to whom he was talking in his 
 usual style of grave persiflage. 
 
 As constancy of purpose was by no means 
 one of the qaahfications which had gained 
 Clarence a place in Mainwaring's esteem, for 
 all explanation Ernest was content to wait; 
 and his eye wandered over the brilliant moving 
 mass of human beings before him, assembled 
 there with one avowed object — the music — 
 that object being, perhaps, of all the various 
 motives which actuated that gay throng, the 
 very one which had brought the fewest there. 
 
 The beauty of the season took her one, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 or at most, two turns on the soft grass alongside 
 of the promenade, in all the elegant simplicity 
 of modest cottage bonnet, and muslin bespotted 
 with infantine sprigs. If she listened to " that 
 lovely air" of " Di piacer" it must have been 
 at the expense of losing then and for ever the 
 amusement and instruction to be derived from 
 the remarks of his Serene Highness the Prince 
 of Fiirstenburg, and of that " delightful oddity" 
 Timon Trelawny, and of — many more. 
 
 And alas ! for the ill-omened matron who 
 expected to enjoy the music, or anything else, 
 stationed in the midst of her promising group 
 of incipient belles, still in short frocks and 
 trousers, with huge hats and plumes; with 
 their gracious brothers in velvet and broad 
 sashes. The engaging Httle creatures, plunging 
 on their own responsibility into the thickest of 
 the crowd, or rushing wildly to the very 
 extremity of the parterres, fretted the maternal 
 bosom into utter oblivion of "■ II Diavolo." 
 
 Then, as to the Lords of the Creation — a 
 sudden rush and a great sensation amongst the 
 crowd announced that Ibrahim Roodja Shishak 
 Khan, the Ispahanese, was in the gardens, and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 35 
 
 the Lion of the season appeared, in all the 
 glories of each mere and paste — and beauties 
 and exquisites, nobles and citizens, accompanied 
 that " splendid creature," in his transit through 
 them ; and the band of the Royal Horse Guards 
 Blue, was quite deserted. 
 
 Very fortunately for the remBinrng pretendans^ 
 the magnificent Ispahanese did not stop to hear 
 the music, and so the members of the Guards 
 Club had the field to themselves again, very 
 nearly. And, arm in arm they paced the 
 avenue, with a kind of *' none but the brave 
 deserve the fair" air. While now and then an 
 M.P. arriving in breathless haste, was heard 
 to address his party with, " I've this moment 
 got away from the house I" in a tone so pitched 
 that it was at the greatest possible stretch of 
 self-denial, and in painful deference to the 
 forms of society, if everybody within hearing 
 did not stand still to know whether the ministers 
 had resigned, or the enemy had landed — or 
 whether a new gunpowder plot had rendered 
 the escape of that individual member on that 
 fatal evening a very providential escape indeed. 
 
 But the National Anthem sounded, and the 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 universal throng to the entrance might have 
 led a stranger to suppose that this motley 
 crowd had been kept there for the last hour 
 entirely against their will. Ernest was turning 
 his horse's head, but a conversation between his 
 fair neighbour and her cavalier caught his 
 ear; and involuntarily he remained stationary. 
 
 " Oh ! it is no use denying it, Major Aubrey, 
 you are quite in low spirits to-day," (he was, 
 for he had experienced considerable losses at 
 Ascot,) " and I am sure you were in love with 
 her. Now were you not ? confess it !" and a 
 little coquettish laugh concluded the speech. 
 
 " In love with Edith Sidney ! * Angels and 
 ministers of grace defend us !' Upon my soul, 
 I am quite relieved to see she has taken up 
 with the baronet : a dernier ressort, I suppose :" 
 and the Major raised his ungloved hand 
 towards his face, and, wnth the forefinger and 
 thumb thereof, gently caressed his moustaches. 
 
 *' You men are so deceitful, I never believe a 
 word you say," (another laugh) " and I have 
 heard a great deal, I can tell you, about Miss 
 Sidney and yourself." 
 
 " She was always an inveterate flirt, but as
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 37 
 
 for my admiring anything so passee it really is 
 diverting. You may satisfy yourself the belle 
 passion, if there was one, was not on wy 
 side." 
 
 Ernest Mainwaring longed to horsewhip the 
 speaker. But as he fortunately recollected 
 that, having never even seen Lady Estcourte, 
 he had but insufficient grounds on which to 
 constitute himself her champion ; and, moreover, 
 that under any circumstances, his relations with 
 her were not such as to warrant his interference 
 on her behalf, he satisfied himself with turning 
 and bending upon Aubrey a look which the 
 other saw and understood. 
 
 So Ernest bowed to Miss Butler, and was in 
 a few minutes alongside of Clarence Egerton, 
 asking the very natural question of how he 
 came to be there. 
 
 " Oh ! I changed my mind, that was all. 
 I thought on your account I would Mive to 
 fight another day,' which, you see, 1 could not 
 have done if I had suffered myself to be 
 dissolved before the parliament. Fahrenheit 
 stands at eighty, you know, and there are 
 bounds to human endurance."
 
 38 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 The truth was that Egerton, who was Hot 
 quite so devoid of feeling or principle as he 
 delighted in representing himself, had on 
 reflecting, arrived at the conclusion that he had 
 been a little particular in his attentions to the 
 fair Georgina. And as he had not the slightest 
 intention of laying his heart and hopes at her 
 feet, and the abrupt withdrawal of his assiduities, 
 when spending a day in her society, might be 
 genant to him, not to say her, he thought it 
 might be more honourable on the whole, not to 
 go to the very verge of a declaration, and to 
 stay away from the dejeuner altogether. And 
 Miss Bloomfield's departure for the country on 
 the following day, would put the most natural 
 conclusion in the world to the whole thing. 
 
 And in his conduct on this occasion, Clarence 
 Egerton acted according to his own and the 
 world's most rigid code of honour. 
 
 "Who is that handsome fellow who was 
 walking just now with the O'Brien girls ?" 
 asked Mainwaring. " I saw you speaking to 
 him, but he is a stranger to me." 
 
 '^ A stranger ! — ' not to know him, argues' 
 — but I spare you. He arrived only yesterday
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 39 
 
 from abroad, and seems like Don Antonio, ' in 
 a devil of a hurry' to 'go back again.'" 
 
 " You have not yet told me who he is," 
 remarked Ernest. 
 
 " He is — that explorer of Assyrian hierogly- 
 phics, of Egyptian magic, of Roman miracles, 
 of Turkish ethics, of German mystics, and of 
 French antics — Lord Algernon Vere," replied 
 Clarence, " and he is going to start immediately 
 — St. Patrick help him ! — on a tour in Ireland. 
 Doubtless, he was commencing his study of the 
 national character just now, and has made up his 
 mind, ere this, whether the Celt or the Phenician 
 predominates in Lucy and Charlotte O'Brien." 
 
 Mainwaring laughed at the sally, but was 
 silent for a few seconds. " Now I think of it, 
 Ernest," resumed Egerton, " Lord Algernon 
 was speaking of you, but what led either him or 
 myself to so interesting a topic, I cannot tell." 
 
 " Nor I," responded Mainwaring, " for the 
 critique I wrote on his * Suggestions,' was ano- 
 nymous." 
 
 " Don't flatter yourself, my dear fellow, that 
 he ever read it — at least, 1 am quite confident 
 I never did ; so am innocent of having made 
 any allusion to that subject. But there is
 
 40 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Lady Ida, bowing to me," and Egerton galloped 
 off to the side of the carriage. 
 
 Ernest Mainwaring, who had been much 
 attracted by Lord Algernon's style, felt disposed 
 to take an early opportunity of making his ac- 
 quaintance. For Clarence's tirade on the 
 subject of his travels, though exaggerated, 
 afforded a fair sample of the degree to which 
 report had exalted the attainments of this young 
 nobleman's genius, science, and taste. With 
 such a resolution resulting from his ride, he 
 returned to the Albany to dress, and, after a 
 remarkably stale and flat evening, employed in 
 efforts to sustain the fame of Clarke and Brodie 
 against Lady Selina's pro tempore favourite 
 quack, he sought the relief of a Hanover Square 
 rehearsal. On returning to his apartments, his 
 eyes were greeted by the sight of a billet- do ux, 
 all redolent of sandal wood, and most delicately 
 penned. He began to fear that Lady Selina 
 had discovered his need of Doctor Nimmervohl's 
 last recipe. But it contained these words : 
 
 " Lady Armadale presents her compliments 
 to Mr. Mainwaring, and feels that she need 
 offer no apology for requesting him to afford
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 41 
 
 her a few moments of his valuable time to- 
 morrow morning, since the subject on which she 
 wishes to communicate with Mr. Mainwaring, 
 is one which she is aware possesses, for him, 
 considerable interest. Lady Armadale will be 
 visible until luncheon time. 
 
 "Belgrave Square, June 21, 185 — ." 
 
 No preux chevalier could have resisted so 
 alluring a summons ; and, in due obedience, on 
 the following morning, as the bell of St. Paul's, 
 Knightsbridge, gave notice of the daily service, 
 Ernest Mainwaring, turned the corner of 
 Lowndes Street, and in a few moments, his 
 hand was on the Countess's knocker. 
 
 To say that our hero never felt more at his 
 ease in his life, would be claiming for him more 
 sang-froid, or rather impudence, than we think 
 either graceful or becoming in a gentleman, who 
 had, the day previously, seen his name coupled 
 in the interesting manner above related, in a 
 public print of general circulation, with that of 
 the lady whom he was going to visit. Nor can we 
 altogether acquit him of a degree of unpleasant 
 consciousness — which would force itself upon
 
 42 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 him, and which had caused his absence from 
 the fete on the day preceding — that the lovely 
 Countess herself was not likely to discountenance 
 the report. 
 
 But whatever slight embarrassment he might 
 feel, was not visible in his manner as he entered 
 Lady Armadale's drawing-room, and, advancing 
 towards its fair occupant, held out his hand 
 with his accustomed frank and manly air. In his 
 style of addressing her, there was friendhness 
 and ease, and that tone of courteous deference 
 which Ernest never laid aside when speaking to 
 any woman — but nothing more. 
 
 The Countess was reclining on an embroi- 
 dered satin fauteuil, which, like all the other 
 moveables of the room, seemed formed to 
 present luxury in her most seductive attitude. 
 A vista of fairy-like apartments, shaded with 
 light draperies, and greatly lengthened in 
 effect by artfully arranged mirrors, extended 
 backwards from the room in which she sate, 
 *' small by degrees, and beautifully less," until 
 they terminated in a sort of alcove, fitted up a 
 la Chinoise, and, from the more voluminous 
 texture of its hangings, shaded with a deeper
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 43 
 
 mystery than the intermediate rooms. All 
 spoke of sweet seclusion, while, from some in- 
 visible source, sounded the refreshing ripple of 
 a perpetually flowing fountain. Masses of 
 bright flowers reposed in the white marble 
 sarcophagi^ or crowned the rich Sevres vases, 
 or drooped over the delicate petals of German 
 glass aviums, or graceful cornucopice. And, 
 from the balcony without, the gentle breeze 
 through the open windows, brought perfumes of 
 Cape jessamine, and heliotrope, and mignionette ; 
 and brilliant geraniums, and rich carnations, and 
 sweet roses, peeped into the room with every 
 wave of the muslin jalousies. And, in short, 
 within and without, all combined to charm the 
 senses into forgetfulness, that it was sultry 
 midsummer, and Belgrave Square. 
 
 The dress of the Countess herself presented 
 something of a contrast to the lavish richness 
 of all that surrounded her. She wore a peig- 
 noir of snowy India muslin, (she had heard 
 Ernest say he admired simplicity), varied only 
 by an occasional under current of delicate pink, 
 which confined it at the waist and throat — and 
 embroidered profusely. Not a bracelet nor a
 
 44 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 ring adorned her fair hands and arms ; nor had 
 she any ornament, unless the tiniest of hair 
 chains which encircled her throat, and which 
 was clasped in front into a knot of dehcate work- 
 manship, from which hung two large brilliants 
 — could be termed such. The rich brown hair 
 was parted in bands across her white brow, 
 and on the back of her head, there rested the 
 very slightest apology for a cap, in exquisitely 
 delicate point. Her whole toilette bore the 
 negligee character, which, perhaps, when artfully 
 assumed, is of all styles the most carefully soignee. 
 Lady Armadale was, of course, very beautiful, 
 or w^ould she be thus attired ? Her face was 
 of the perfect oval, and her features approached 
 nearly to the artistic standard of perfection. 
 Large, almond shaped eyes of soft blue, were 
 overshadowed by deep lashes, and the arched 
 brows mocked the efforts of the pencil to 
 represent anything more perfect in form or 
 colour. Her nose and mouth were regular, the 
 rosy under lip projecting a little, and her com- 
 plexion, which was fair, rather inclined to paleness. 
 Her figure was full, and well developed ; and, as 
 she rose from her chair to welcome Ernest, and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 45 
 
 the soft folds of her robe fell in amplitude around 
 her, she presented a picture, rare, even in 
 England, of perfect majesty and grace. 
 
 And Mainwaring was sensible, as she 
 intended he should be, of the beauty of the 
 tableau ; and on it his eyes dwelt for a moment 
 before he turned to offer his greetings to her 
 companion — for Lady Armadale was not alone. 
 
 If the Countess had sought the world through, 
 she could not have encountered a better foil 
 for her own attractions, than was presented by 
 Mrs. Grant. A complexion of unearthy pale- 
 ness, sallow in hue, but unvarying as marble, 
 served as the setting for a pair of coal black 
 eyes, dull and expressionless, and without depth. 
 Her lips were thin and colourless, her features 
 totally devoid of refinement or character. Her 
 very coarse and abundant black hair was gathered 
 carelessly into a knot at the back of the head ; 
 and her figure had that shrunken, flat, reduced 
 air which afforded an admirable contrast to 
 Lady Armadale's full, and undulating form. 
 She received Ernest's address with frigid impas- 
 sibiHty, fixing her cold, dark eyes upon him for 
 an instant — then resumed her low seat and her
 
 46 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 occupation : Lady Armadale proceeding, as if 
 oblivious of her presence ; for it was ** only Mrs. 
 Grant." 
 
 Mainwaring was, perhaps, a little surprised 
 at finding the two ladies in a position which 
 indicated such intimate association ; but, attri- 
 buting the fact to a movement of kindness on 
 the countess's part, towards one whom he 
 himself had always regarded with sympathy and 
 compassion, he proceeded to express his hope 
 that Lady Armadale had not suffered from the 
 fatigues of the previous day. 
 
 She sighed. " We had a charming fete, 
 Mr. Mainwaring ! Le petit Charles sang delight- 
 fully, and the nightingale was in her glory. Sir 
 Perceval too, dear, was in his most fascinating 
 mood," said she, turning to Mrs. Grant. 
 
 That young lady raised her eyes for a second, 
 sullenly or inanimately, as you might like to 
 understand them, to the Countess's face. Then, 
 as if they were much too heavy to be sustained 
 in that position, they suddenly dropped. 
 
 She took no further notice of Lady Arma- 
 dale's remark, unless a slight twitch across the 
 lips could be called so.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 47 
 
 " When Lady Armadale presides," said Main- 
 waring, " we are quite satisfied that every charm 
 of art and nature will be brought into play." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Mainwaring ! spare me, I entreat 
 you. It really was not to angle for compli- 
 ments that I ventured to request a call from 
 you. But I understand that you have at heart 
 
 your election for South shire. Am I 
 
 rightly informed ?" 
 
 " Quite rightly," returned Ernest. " Etpuis .?" 
 
 " E^ puis,^' rejoined the Countess,/'! am 
 sorry to announce to you — " and she lowered 
 her voice to a confidential tone, though ' only 
 Mrs. Grant' was sitting by, "that I have 
 ascertained you are likely to meet with an 
 alarming opposition." 
 
 " From Captain Egerton ?" said Mainwaring, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " You were aware of it then ! But 
 you men really take things so coolly ! You 
 are absolutely impenetrable ! In my simplicity, 
 I supposed that the defection of half the 
 county, through Lord St. Ormonde's interest, 
 which 1 hear of as a certain thing, would not 
 be a matter of indifference to you ! Now I envy
 
 48 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 you your philosophical insouciance /" and the 
 countess again sighed. 
 
 " Allow me to defend myself, by pleading, 
 * not guilty,' on both counts,'' gaily replied 
 Ernest. *' In answer to the first charge, per- 
 mit me to assure you that I desire nothing 
 more than that your penetration should discover 
 my gratitude for the friendly interest you are 
 good enough to evince as to my election. For 
 my indifference as to success I am not so 
 apathetic as to feel it, or so affected as to feign 
 it; but Lord St. Ormonde's friends may be 
 mistaken !" 
 
 Once more those Stygian eyes were raised, 
 and they rolled across our hero's countenance. 
 " Mrs. Grant, I see, agrees with me," added he, 
 good naturedly endeavouring to win her to a 
 participation in the subject. " Mrs. Grant will 
 give me a little encouragement, will she not ?" 
 
 This w^as a direct appeal, and a look of blank 
 astonishment w^as not sufficient reply. So the 
 lady was proceeding to add thereto in a drawl- 
 ing, insipid tone. 
 
 '^ I — I'm sure I don't," when Lady Armadale 
 came to her relief.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 49 
 
 " By the way, Mr. Mainwaring, when is that 
 charming, sweet Helen of yours coming home ? 
 I so long to see her again." 
 
 " She will not join me in town, I fear. But 
 
 she promises to be in shire before many 
 
 weeks are over," said Ernest. His manner 
 always became interested when speaking of his 
 sister. 
 
 *' Many weeks ! You will not have left 
 town by that 'time ; and I shall be enchanted 
 if dear Helen will allow me to present her at the 
 next drawing-room !" (The Countess's ac- 
 quaintance with Miss Mainwaring went just to 
 the extent of one evening's occupation of the 
 same opera box.) 
 
 " Thank you ! for my sister and myself. 
 But I have the vanity to believe that even your 
 attractive proposal will hardly detain Helen 
 from Alringham — where I go next week." 
 
 Lady Armadale raised her beautiful eyes 
 rather suddenly to Mainwaring's countenance, at 
 this announcement. She was too much a 
 woman of the world to start, or betray her sur- 
 prise, save by this involuntary movement. As 
 the dark eyes by her side were raised also, it is 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 probable that Ernest felt conscious of a slight 
 embarrassment ; for he laid his hand upon the 
 newspaper which lay upon the table of exquisite 
 yietra dura by the Countess's chair. But 
 this ruse only increased his difficulties ; for at 
 the first glance he saw it was the "Morning Post" 
 of the day before. He laid down the paper 
 abruptly. 
 
 The Countess watched the movement. 
 
 " Mr. Mainwaring is too deep a politician 
 for the ' Post'. But is it possible," she added, 
 glancing slightly at the journal, " that Wilson 
 can have been so careless as to leave yesterday's 
 paper here. You well might find it out of date." 
 
 And Lady Armadale took up a small bell 
 of ormolu profusely set wdtli jewels, and 
 having succeeded in procuring the attendance 
 of her butler, she despatched the offending 
 journal to the lower regions with all the eclat 
 and publicity possible. 
 
 Nothins: better was wanted to restore Ernest's 
 self-possession. And he was speedily engaged 
 in an animated discussion of the Countess's 
 portrait by Grant, then exhibiting in Trafalgar 
 Square — and subsequently on the possibilities
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 51 
 
 and probabilities attending the public surmises 
 as to the anonymous author cf the last new 
 novel. 
 
 There was a raciness, an originality, and 
 freshness, in all that Ernest said, even on the 
 commonest subjects. Whether the charm lay 
 in the manner or the matter of his conversation, 
 the result was, that he hardly ever failed to 
 interest his auditors. And the blasee woman 
 of fashion was, perhaps, never more sincere 
 than when she said to him as he rose to make 
 his adieu. 
 
 " You are a most unpitying tyrant, Mr. 
 Mainwaring ! You rouse our interests on your 
 behalf, and carry them away with you; no 
 matter how desoles the friends you leave 
 behind." 
 
 " Say, rather, I myself am the slave of cir- 
 cumstances," returned he, gaily. " A banished 
 man for the rest of the season." 
 
 " Your banishment is self-imposed. Our 
 loss in your desertion of us," and Lady Arma- 
 dale's beautiful eye-lashes drooped for a moment, 
 as she added with a slight sigh, " our loss is 
 compulsory." 
 
 E 2 UBRAWf 
 
 uNivERsmr Of »«««*
 
 52 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 "Now shall I steel my vanity against so 
 flattering a speech !" said Ernest, " especially as 
 you have just interdicted me from paying com- 
 pliments in return. But Mrs. Grant will per- 
 haps find some means to keep my organ of 
 self-esteem within due bounds ; and, meantime, 
 may I ask if she has any commissions for 
 shire?" 
 
 " I ? — no 1" said the owner of the coal black 
 orbs. 
 
 " But you have friends in that county, I 
 think ?" asked Ernest. 
 
 " No," again burst from the pale lips. 
 
 "Am I mistaken in thinking you were 
 making inquiries the other day about the — the 
 Escourtes ?" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 It was useless to talk to Mrs. Grant. It 
 was like walking at midnight in December. 
 You might stumble into a pitfall, and at 
 best you encountered but darkness and a be- 
 numbing chill. So Ernest turned to answer 
 his fair hostess's inquiries as to whether, 
 after his election, it was his intention to 
 proceed to Baden. And, having satisfied her
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 53 
 
 on that point, he wished the ladies good 
 morning. 
 
 " Has he seen the paragraph, or not, Mrs. 
 Grant V^ hastily asked the countess. 
 
 " Yes/' 
 
 " Does he suspect at all whence it came V' 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why should he leave London? How 
 absurd ! — for a paltry election ! What heart- 
 less monsters men are !" 
 
 The dark eyes were raised, and there was 
 little faint, joyless, laugh — but no reply.
 
 54 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Charnwood Priory was — what few places are 
 — exactly what its name indicated. If, therefore, 
 the imaginative reader will figure to himself a 
 really ancient mansion, of style ecclesiastical, 
 though mixed, situated on an upland which 
 commanded an extensive view over a landscape 
 of both hill and valley, the foreground consisting 
 of an undulating deer park, and rich woods 
 which abounded in traditions and alleged 
 vestiges of Robin Hood and Friar Tuck — he 
 will spare us a lengthened description, and 
 probably fill up the picture more to his satisfac- 
 tion by the pencil of fancy, than could we by 
 the pen of minute detail. 
 
 But we must be allowed to circumscribe the
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 55 
 
 flights of imagination with regard to one part of 
 the mansion, and we shall claim the reader's 
 indulgence, whilst we describe to him what the 
 drawings-room at Charnwood reallv was. For 
 though wood, and lake, and mountain, charm 
 the imagination and entrance the fanc}^ it is 
 probable that those emotions of the heart, on 
 which the incidents of life depend, generally take 
 their rise within narrower hmits. And the 
 shape of a room may have affected individual 
 destiny, more than the sweep of a forest. 
 
 The drawing-room, then, at Charnwood Priory, 
 was a spacious and lofty apartment, the door 
 being situated at one end ; (for the room was 
 long) and nearly the whole of the opposite end 
 of the room forming an oriel window, which 
 opened upon a broad stone balcony, filled with 
 flowering plants. Through this broad oriel, 
 which gave to the south, a rich flood of sun- 
 shine generally poured into the bright, gay, 
 room, enriched by gilded paper hangings, and 
 ibundantly furnished with luxurious divans of 
 blue satin damask, which were favourably con- 
 trasted by table covers of the glowing Beauvais 
 tapestry. Buhl clocks, India cabinets, and a
 
 56 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 few exquisite old paintings, supplied that luxury 
 to the taste, which to a refined nature is almost 
 as essential in its surroundings, as the mere 
 physical comforts of soft Axminster carpets and 
 deep cushioned fauteuils. 
 
 At the end next the oriel, there projected 
 from this most cheerful apartment a deep 
 recess or small room, lined with books ; and 
 called, in consequence of its being accommo- 
 dated to the form of the external architecture, 
 the turret chamber. 
 
 Though quite open to the larger apartment, 
 the seclusion of this recess was complete ; as its 
 position, and its depth, prevented any who were 
 in it from being visible to the occupants of the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 In this retreat, lighted by an antique window, 
 and gaily diversified by cabinet pictures, books, 
 and flowers, there sat on the morning on w^hich 
 our tale commences, a fair young girl, busily 
 occupied in drawing a white rose — not one of 
 the many which bloomed in the various bouquets 
 around her, and perfumed the air of the cham- 
 ber, but, apparently, a fancy sketch. And to 
 judge by the deepening flush of her cheek, and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 57 
 
 the eager interest of her bright eyes, as she 
 loaded the beautiful buds with rich moss, you 
 might have guessed that, in her opinion, at least, 
 the subject of her work had been a model far 
 surpassing any of that mornings' gathering. 
 
 And imagination might have suggested a 
 comparison between the young girl and the 
 subject of her pencil. She looked so fresh and 
 pure as she sat there alone, the one conscious 
 thing in the large, void room ! so untouched by 
 the world and its influences. The sunbeams 
 danced across her fair bright locks, w^hen she 
 bent her head to pursue her occupation; and 
 now and then they touched her cheek, or 
 lighted up a smile as it glanced over her varying 
 countenance. But, in the dehcate transparency 
 of her complexion, her quick changes of colour, 
 and the very fineness of her silky hair, there 
 was an appearance of sensitiveness, which justi- 
 fied the comparison of her youthful beauty, with 
 that of the fragile flower upon her paper ; and 
 seemed to mark her out as one especially in- 
 tended by nature to be enveloped in the mossy 
 mantle of maternal love. But Blanche Est- 
 courte had long been motherless.
 
 58 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Philosophers say there is a principle of com- 
 pensation throughout the universe, moral and 
 physical. So in those natures which reject the 
 influences of what is commonly termed " the 
 world," there is generally a peculiar suscepti- 
 bility to influences from other sources, more 
 interesting, more ennobling, perhaps ; but still 
 alas ! of the earth — earthly. 
 
 A bold, sharp thorn had just appeared upon 
 the stem of the white rose ; and Blanche was con- 
 sidering whether, on her original model, any such 
 formidable weapon had existed, and, as she did 
 so, a conscious smile was stealing over her features 
 — when the servant entered with the post bag. 
 
 The young girl seized it eagerly ; and with 
 some haste and trepidation she tore open a letter 
 in her father's handwriting. It contained only 
 a few lines, conveying the dreaded, though ex- 
 pected, announcement of his marriage on the 
 previous day with Edith Sidney. 
 
 It was natural that Blanche's tears should 
 flow, and they fell for some time unrestrainedly. 
 Perhaps there is no position among the many 
 anomalous ones of this world, where human 
 beings, acting in accordance with the just and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 59 
 
 natural dictates of the heart, and without the 
 violation of any precept, human or divine, are 
 placed respectively in a relation which does more 
 violence to natural sympathies, than that which 
 is afforded by the first association of a step- 
 mother with the children of a previous marriage. 
 
 Strangers — yet domesticated on the same 
 hearth — connected by a relationship which 
 should be all love and confidence- — yet more 
 ignorant of each other's characters, than of 
 that of their most distant acquaintance. The 
 difficulties increased, too, by a feeling towards 
 the dead, almost holy in a child, which shocks 
 the survivor at the idea of seeing a parent's 
 place supplied by another. All these — not to 
 mention casual and frequent prejudices — render 
 a more than ordinary self-abnegation, and a 
 generous tone of feeling beyond the common, 
 most essential on both sides. 
 
 As Blanche had, however, been fully prepared 
 for the event announced in her father's letter, 
 and had, moreover, remained absent from its 
 celebration at her own request, the grief she felt 
 was no new wound, but only that natural out- 
 pouring of feehng, which we all experience
 
 60 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 when hope and fear alike are ended, by sharp, 
 pitiless, certainty. She had never seen the 
 woman whom her father had selected to form, 
 for the future, so considerable a part of her 
 world — as the Sidneys resided in a distant 
 country. And, for the same reason, little had 
 transpired respecting her in the neighbourhood 
 of Charnwood ; the engagement having been 
 but recently announced. From Sir Reginald, 
 indeed, Blanche had received a few kind words 
 at parting, with regard to the future relations of 
 his affianced wife and his child. But Sir Re- 
 ginald was the very reverse of communicative, 
 and his observations contributed but little to 
 Blanche's enlightenment. 
 
 After a time her pencil was resumed, and by 
 its skill, a sparkling drop of dew made its 
 appearance upon the cup of the white rose. 
 And Blanche was smiling to think how her mood 
 of the morning had added a thorn and a tear to 
 that bright, sunshiny flower, when she heard 
 the drawing-room door opened, and her little 
 sister Flora ran the length of the room towards 
 the turret chamber. 
 
 " Here — dear Blanche ! is a letter for you !'*
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 61 
 
 " For me ! Flo ! where could you pick it up ?" 
 
 " I did not pick it up. Mademoiselle and I 
 were walking, and we met a groom in the park, 
 in the St. Ormonde livery, who was bringing it 
 here. Mademoiselle asked him whether it required 
 an answer, and, as he said he was not to wait for 
 one, Mademoiselle offered to spare him the trou- 
 ble of dehvering it, and took charge of it herself." 
 
 By this time, the governess, who had followed 
 her pupil into the room, had advanced as far as 
 the recess. Blanche was therefore prevented 
 from uttering the comment which rose to her 
 lips, on the needless trouble which Mademoiselle 
 had given herself in making enquiries as to the 
 errand of the groom at all. 
 
 Mademoiselle Adele Rochard was a person of 
 considerable weight and importance in every 
 respect. Her height was something below the 
 ordinary standard, but in breadth and circum- 
 ference she had few rivals. Owing to this it 
 was, that she looked much older than she really 
 was ; though her face was somewhat redeemed 
 by good eyes, of dark grey, and well arranged hair. 
 Her manner towards her pupils, if not dictatorial, 
 was, at least, peremptory : and there was a re-
 
 62 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 solution in her whole deportment, which, even 
 when she stooped to suavity, gave a force to 
 every word and action. 
 
 She listened with an unmoved countenance, 
 to Flora's explanation of her proceedings with 
 regard to the letter ; contemplating with a fixed 
 look the countenance of Blanche, still marked 
 with the traces of her recent tears. Something 
 like a smile, though far from an encouraging 
 one, passed across her lips as Blanche laid aside 
 the letter which had been conveyed to her, say- 
 ing in a tone of indifference : 
 
 " It will keep, I suppose. An invitation, pro- 
 bably, or some stupid country business to be for- 
 warded to papa. Flo ! my darling ! do you 
 know that you and I have a new mamma ?" 
 
 Blanche passed her arm round the child, and 
 drew her towards herself — then, laying her head 
 on Flora's shoulder, she burst into another fit of 
 tears. 
 
 The little girl coloured — but she did not weep. 
 
 " Blanche !" she said " do not cry. I don't 
 care about them at all ; you know we ought never 
 to care about bad people." 
 
 *'But Flora, dear, you must not call Lady
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 63 
 
 Estcourte bad, because just now she is the cause 
 of our unhappiness." 
 
 The child looked in a puzzled way at her 
 governess. But Mademoiselle evidently thought 
 it better to withhold or defer her observations ; 
 for having during the foregoing little scene, em- 
 ployed herself in a minute scrutiny of all that lay 
 upon the table — she asked Blanche's permission 
 to open the newspaper, which until then, had 
 been suffered to lie neglected. Without waiting 
 for the ready assent, she tore oif the cover, and 
 ran her eye over its contents. 
 
 Presently she exclaimed, quite abruptly : 
 
 " Mais ! mon Dieu ! — that charming Mr. 
 Mainwaring is going to be married l" 
 
 For a few seconds no one answered ; but 
 Blanche turned suddenly pale as marble. Slightly 
 recovering herself, she held out her hand for the 
 journal, saying as she did so — " What do you 
 mean, Mademoiselle ? show me — " 
 
 The governess placed the paper within her 
 trembling fingers and pointed to the paragraph, 
 which had, on that day, already caused so much 
 sensation in the London world. 
 
 The paper quivered in Blanche's grasp, and
 
 64 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 soon she laid it down, her every movement 
 closely watched by Mademoiselle Rochard. 
 
 " We shall have a new neighbour, it seems — 
 Flora, dearest, I thought this was your hour for 
 walking ?" 
 
 " La petite shall make her promenade at the 
 proper time. Mademoiselle has not yet opened 
 the letter from Greystone Abbey," said the 
 governess, handing to Blanche the letter of which 
 she had so officiously undertaken the delivery — 
 " it may require an answer." 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle," said Flora, " you know 
 the servant said there was to be no answer." 
 
 Mademoiselle Rochard bent a stern scowl 
 upon her pupil, and seizing the child's hand, 
 she left the room. She had seen enough ; or 
 was convinced that, for the present, nothing 
 more was to be seen. 
 
 And what was Blanche's first impulse when 
 left, as she so longed to be left, alone ? 
 
 It was to seize the drawing on which she had 
 lavished so much taste and skill on that morning, 
 and to bury it in the deep recesses of a huge 
 portfolio. Then again she wept ; but this time 
 far more bitterly — far more hopelessly.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 65 
 
 That fair rose had been given to her by Ernest 
 Mainwaring, when, during the previous autumn, 
 they had met as guests for a few days at Mar- 
 wood. On his suggestion she had sketched the 
 flower, and something which passed then, left on 
 Blanche's mind the full conviction that Ernest 
 was prepared to assert a kind of claim to the 
 possession of this subject of his own choosing, 
 whenever they should meet again. And, as she 
 had deepened shadows, and brought out lights, 
 till the rose appeared upon her paper in all its 
 exquisite transparency, how often those few 
 treasured words had recurred to her ; bringing 
 a brighter glow to her cheek, and animating her 
 efforts with more than even her ow^n natural love 
 of the art inspired. But what was the drawing 
 worth now ! Ernest had evidently forgotten 
 those passages — for her so fraught with interest 
 — had deceived her — perhaps, even then had 
 been engaged to another. 
 
 She read the paragraph until every syllable 
 was engraven on her memory. Then, stepping 
 out upon the balcony, from the oriel, she laid her 
 throbbing head upon the stone parapet, and 
 yielded herself without restraint to the entire 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 despondency which she believed her situation, 
 in every respect, calculated to elicit. She was 
 presently roused by the sound of distant 
 carriage wheels ; and, looking up, she saw a 
 huge old fashioned barouche advancing along 
 one of the further approaches of the park. 
 
 " Old Lady Bouverie, with her everlasting 
 greys ! Oh ! what shall I do ?" 
 
 Poor Blanche ! she thought her cup of 
 misery was now quite full ; for she was not in 
 a state of mind to analyse events. If she had 
 been, she might perhaps have agreed with us 
 that nothing could possibly be more seasonable 
 than this visit; as perhaps no means are so 
 effectual for stopping the current of morbid 
 sensibility, as a little common-place, matter-of- 
 fact, annoyance. 
 
 And certainly, in Lady Bouverie's society, 
 people were made welcome to as large a share 
 of this as they pleased ; for the old lady (a 
 widow w^ith an ample jointure, and a family 
 established in the world) though very apt to 
 blunder in everything else, always succeeded to 
 perfection in saying the most disagreeable things 
 possible, to everybody individually, and all 
 collectively.
 
 THE SECOND \YIFE. 67 
 
 Not that Lady Bouverie was really malicious, 
 or intentionally unkind. On the contrary, she 
 believed herself to be an excellent neighbour, 
 and a good friend ; and she was quite capable 
 of rendering great services. But her nature 
 was hard, and she totally disbelieved in feel- 
 ing; her variations w^ere of the temper, not 
 of the heart ; and she knew not how words 
 wound. 
 
 " Well — my dear !" she said, as steering her 
 portly person with its multitudinous wrappings 
 aloncr the brig-ht drawings-room, she took the 
 extended hand of Blanche, who had advanced 
 to meet her : *' I thought I would come over 
 to see you to-day, for I may not have another 
 opportunity. I suppose you will very soon be 
 turned out now — as mistress of the house I 
 mean — at any rate." 
 
 " Thank you," said Blanche, languidly, " I — I 
 know nothing at all of Lady Estcourte." 
 
 " You'll know enough presently, child ! but 
 why did not Sir Reginald take you to the 
 wedding ? I suppose he thought of ' funeral 
 baked meats,' and all that sort of thing. Do 
 you remember your mother ?" 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 *' Oh yes !" said Blanche, bursting into tears, 
 " I think you knew her ?" 
 
 "To be sure ! of course 1 did — when I've 
 lived within five miles of Charnwood for the 
 last fifty years. But make the best of it, child : 
 we've all had mothers in our lives, and we've 
 all lost them." (Lady Bouverie had been 
 herself a grandmother for twenty years.) 
 
 '' Have you ever met my father's present 
 wife?" asked Blanche. 
 
 " No ! never, but I hear she's a rank Metho- 
 dist, quite a Puseyite ! I daresay she'll try to 
 introduce prayer-meetings, and love feasts, and 
 field-preaching amongst us ; for she's dreadfully 
 High Church. I suppose it's because she's a 
 bishop's daughter." 
 
 Any other time Blanche must have burst 
 into a hearty fit of laughter, and even in her 
 present mood, Lady Bouverie's divinity did her 
 good. The old lady proceeded — 
 
 *' How dreadfully hot you keep your rooms ! 
 Really, I can hardly breathe here. My dear, do 
 open the window." 
 
 Blanche proceeded to unfasten the only 
 c npartment of the oriel which was not already
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 69 
 
 wide open. Then turning to Lady Bouverie, 
 she said timidly, 
 
 " Would you not like to take off some of 
 your cloaks, whilst you remain in doors ?" 
 
 " Well, yes ! Til take off my boa, (it was 
 one of the hottest days in June) and these fur 
 cuffs also, you may put down. I beg pardon 
 for giving you so much trouble, child ! but it's 
 as well you should get into the way, you know, 
 of obeying orders. But, dear me ! why should 
 it be worse for you than for other people ? Vm 
 sure when I was your age, I dared not even put 
 down my sampler without permission. A 
 good severe step-mother will be the best thing 
 in the world for you, my dear." 
 
 Blanche made a faint attempt at a smile, 
 and thought of Job's comforters. 
 
 " And so pale and sickly, and woe-begone as 
 you look ! the young people of the present day 
 have no constitutions. YouVe quite lost your 
 good looks, my dear. By the bye, I hear your 
 old beau, Mr. Mainw^aring, of Alringham, is 
 going to be married." 
 
 "Yes," said Blanche, speaking very hastily,and, 
 as she thought, very firmly, "to Lady Armadale."
 
 70 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 *' Or to the Countess's jointure — just the way 
 with men. If he wanted a fortune, why should 
 he not marry Georgy Bloomfield, I wonder ! 
 Tve no patience with men, wandering away 
 from their own counties. You know, my dear, 
 you are no longer an heiress." 
 
 " Fm sure I am very glad of it," said Blanche, 
 bitterly, writhing under the insinuation which 
 Lady Bouverie's words conveyed. 
 
 " Oh, well ! if you are glad, it's all right, 
 child ; and no doubt you will have the pleasure 
 of nursing and educating hosts of young 
 brothers and sisters. — By the bye, where is 
 Flora r 
 
 " She is out walking with Mademoiselle at 
 present," answered Blanche, perfectly worn out. 
 
 *' I don't approve of that French woman, 
 not at all, child. She looks at me with such a 
 bold, impudent stare ; I suspect she's a Socialist, 
 or a Roman CathoHc, or a Red Republican, or 
 some of those new fangled Paris notions. See 
 if Lady Estcourte does not get rid of her in no 
 time — your step-mother is a Sydney, you know, 
 and the Sydneys have always been Church and 
 King to the backbone — ever since their ancestor,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 71 
 
 Algernon Sydney, blew up the Spanish Ar- 
 mada." 
 
 Blanche bit her hp ; but ventured to remark 
 that IMademoiselle had been recommended to her 
 father as a good Protestant, by his sister-in-law, 
 Lady Selina Bloomfield. " And," she added, 
 " in addition to my aunt's judgment, I know 
 that Mr. Vivian has the highest opinion of 
 her." 
 
 " Mr. Vivian ! what you mean Lord St. 
 Ormonde's tutor, or chaplain, or whatever he 
 may choose to call himself. I know nothing 
 about him, I'm sure, except that he is covering 
 Greystone Park with school houses, till it looks 
 like the Great Exhibition — no, I didn't mean 
 that — I meant the new town in California. 
 Don't let him turn your head, child — for I hear 
 all the young ladies are in love with him." 
 
 "No," said Blanche, with a faint, joyless 
 smile. " But will you not take some luncheon ?" 
 
 Lady Bouverie assented to the proposal, and 
 accompanied Blanche to the dining-room. 
 There they found Flora and her governess 
 already established at the table. 
 
 "Well! little girl, how do you do? you've
 
 72 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 too many curls — no matter — your new mamma 
 will have them all cut off, I daresay. Miss — 
 Miss — what's your name? I hope you're well." 
 And Lady Bouverie, as she passed, drew her 
 fingers through Flora's bright, glossy hair, 
 which fell in masses down her back and 
 shoulders. 
 
 The governess made a slight move, and 
 offered a little tight compressed bow, in 
 acknowledgment of Lady Bouverie's enquiry. 
 But she might have saved herself the trouble, 
 for the old lady was already engaged, without 
 waiting for it, in directing Blanche's attention 
 to the peculiar viands she had selected for that 
 day's luncheon. 
 
 " There, my dear ! give me some pigeon pie. 
 No ! none of your fricandillas and kickshaws, 
 I hate everything French. Flora, child, I hope 
 you'll not forget your mother-tongue, but just 
 remember enough to be able to talk to an old 
 woman like me, without saying ' w^e — we,' or 
 ' mercy — mercy,' every time you speak." 
 
 If eyes could kill, those of Mademoiselle Ro- 
 chard, would have been fatal to Lady Bouverie. 
 For an instant their expression of hatred was
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 73 
 
 fearful. But in another she had adopted both 
 in look and manner an expression of the most 
 patient gentleness. 
 
 " Madame has been abroad ?" enquired she, 
 sweetly. 
 
 "No, Miss ! I forget your name — I have not. 
 And I wish all the people abroad w^ould fol- 
 low my example, and not come here." 
 
 " Miss Estcourte !" And Lady Bouverie 
 turned abruptly away from the governess, as 
 if to put it out of her power to address them 
 again. "Blanche! how is it that you eat no 
 luncheon ?" 
 
 Blanche evaded the enquiry ; and seeing that 
 Lady Bouverie had finished her repast, she rose 
 to leave the table. 
 
 " Now, my dear, just ring for them to put 
 the horses to. I have to drive in to Tilverton 
 to-day, for my stupid lout of a coachman is 
 going to leave me, and I must make enquiries 
 about another. I want a maid, too, and a 
 footman. The servants now-a-days are all be- 
 witched, I think." 
 
 Lady Bouverie was not remarkable for keep- 
 ing her servants long.
 
 74 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Relieved of the task of entertaining her 
 visitor, Blanche relapsed into reverie ; but the 
 diversion had been useful. Though Lady Bou- 
 verie's remarks had certainly not had the ten- 
 dency to place her situation in a more favour- 
 able light, their hard worldliness had afforded 
 her a fev^ minor causes for indignation ; and 
 had checked, in some degree, the powerful 
 current of romantic feeling, which solitude 
 deepens and widens. She wandered out in the 
 warm, summer afternoon ; and taking the path 
 towards a beautiful beech wood, soon entered 
 under the shade of its wavy foliage. An irre- 
 gular, but well-defined path led through the 
 trees, commanding at intervals through a break 
 in their gracefully interlaced branches, a noble 
 view of the country beyond ; for the wood hung 
 upon the side of a hill. On a seat commanding 
 one of these picturesque prospects, Blanche 
 threw herself ; and w4th the saddest of faces, 
 and the most melancholy of attitudes, resigned 
 herself to the contemplation of the past and 
 future. 
 
 All nature w^ore that dreamy, drowsy, re- 
 pose, which leaves to the buzzing myriads that
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 75 
 
 pervade the atmosphere, the task of averting 
 total stillness. The cattle stood knee-deep in 
 the brooks ; the deer were closely herded in 
 groups under the broad-spreading, umbrageous 
 oaks, which interposed here and there between 
 the glaring sunshine, and the sickly turf. The 
 very hay- makers, in many a field around, were 
 driven to an bourns repose ; the birds took shel- 
 ter under cool leaves, and there awaited the 
 evening breeze for a renewal of their song. 
 
 And Blanche herself, spent with the morn- 
 ing's intense emotions, and the rigid self-com- 
 mand she had forced herself to maintain, was 
 suffering the consequent reaction in the approach 
 of something like sleep, when she was roused 
 suddenly by the sound of quick steps along the 
 hard, pebbly path ; and, starting up, she saw 
 the advancing figure of Lord St. Ormonde. 
 
 " Miss Estcourte ! I hope I have not disturbed 
 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, no !" said Blanche, holding out her 
 hand with perfect composure, " I am very 
 glad to see you ; but how could you ride so far 
 this sultry day !" 
 
 The pale face of the young nobleman was
 
 76 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 suddenly suffused with a bright colour, and as 
 suddenly it vanished. His dark hazel eyes were 
 fixed with a gaze of glass like brilliancy upon 
 Blanche as she kindly and calmly welconaed him. 
 
 Lord St. Ormonde was below the middle 
 height, and his figure was slight almost to fra- 
 gility. The extreme boyishness of his appear- 
 ance was heightened by the transparent pale- 
 ness of a complexion — on which the colour 
 went and came like a girl's — and by the abun- 
 dance of his rich dark brown hair. His man- 
 ners were not calculated to counteract the 
 impression of extreme juvenihty conveyed by 
 his appearance, for they were impulsive and 
 variable, easily excited into enthusiasm, or irri- 
 tated into disgust. 
 
 He answered Blanche's friendly enquiry by 
 an impassioned exclamation. 
 
 " Miss Estcourte ! how can you ask me ? 
 Could I rest till I had your answer? Why 
 did you not write to me ?" 
 
 For the first time Blanche recollected that 
 Lord St. Ormonde's letter of the morning lay 
 upon the table in the turret room, unopened, 
 forgotten !
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 77 
 
 " Oh ! St. Ormonde ! I beg your pardon — I 
 am very sorry ! but what was there to answer ? 
 I — I — was very much engaged this morning — 
 Lady Bouverie came." 
 
 " You have not opened my letter ? Oh ! 
 Blanche I" 
 
 " I really am so sorry. But was it any thing 
 important ? Will it make any difference if you 
 tell me the contents now ?" replied Blanche, in 
 the most unembarrassed tone imaginable. 
 
 " Difference ! how cold-hearted you are, 
 Blanche ! You might have known long ago — 
 you must know now — what the contents of 
 that letter were." 
 
 Blanche raised her soft blue eyes with an 
 expression of awakened curiosity towards Lord 
 St. Ormonde's face. Accustomed as she w^as 
 to his occasionally impetuous manner, she saw 
 that something had excited him more than usual. 
 
 " You remind me now of the days when we 
 used to play together, and you always called 
 me unfeeling when I refused to do Rebecca to 
 your Ivanhoe — " 
 
 Blanche stopped short, and in an instant her 
 face was crimsoned with blushes. She had 
 found it out.
 
 78 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Not Rebecca, Blanche ! no ! be my Ro- 
 wena ! my own sweet wife ! I have loved you 
 ever since the time you speak of. You must, 
 and shall, be mine." 
 
 The young man grasped Blanche's hand 
 with his long, thin, delicate fingers ; and pressed 
 it passionately to his lips. She gently, but 
 firmly, withdrew it. 
 
 " I cannot, Lord St. Ormonde." 
 
 " Why not ? what should prevent you ? Sir 
 Reginald will not oppose ; he has now another 
 object of interest, and can live without you. 
 You will never be happy at Charnwood, with a 
 harsh, unkind step-mother. Why should you 
 not come to the home of one who would lay 
 down his life this moment to make you happy !" 
 
 Blanche's eyes were moistened. 
 
 " Because — forgive me — but I — I do not 
 love you." 
 
 " But you would love me — you could not 
 help it. I should be so devoted to your every 
 wish. You would be my idol — my oracle ! 
 Oh ! Blanche — try ! For pity's sake, try to 
 love me !" 
 
 In his strong emotion he threw himself on 
 the grass at Blanche's feet, and once more
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 79 
 
 seized her hand. Meantime, the sun had 
 clouded over ; large drops of rain were beginning 
 to fall, and a distant growl of thunder betokened 
 the coming storm. 
 
 Blanche started from her seat. 
 
 " We must go towards the house," she 
 said. 
 
 " Never !" exclaimed Lord St. Ormonde, 
 " I will never enter The Priory again, if you 
 reject me. The rain may drench me, and the 
 lightning may strike me, here ! They will all 
 be less cruel than you." 
 
 And the young nobleman stretched himself 
 upon the bank as if to await the coming tem- 
 pest. 
 
 Blanche expostulated. 
 
 " Do be calm. Lord St. Ormonde, and hear 
 reason." Blanche might have been a philoso- 
 pher. We are always so wise when the folly 
 is all on the other side. " You know I have 
 always liked you, and we have been such 
 good friends. Why should we not remain so ? 
 Pray do not risk your health by exposing 
 yourself to this pitiless deluge." 
 
 Well she might say so. For now the plash-
 
 80 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 ing rain came down in torrents, the large drops 
 licking up the dust, or rebounding from the 
 dry, parched ground. The fallen leaves and 
 blossoms danced along the earth before the 
 newly awakened breeze. The pebbly path 
 amongst the trees was soon a channel of foam- 
 ing, gushing w^ater. The near thunder made 
 the ground vibrate beneath the feet : while over 
 the dark far off landscape the lightning danced 
 luridly. Yet Lord St. Ormonde lay upon the 
 boiling earth, pale v^ith the intense excitement, 
 not of the awful elements without, but of the 
 far more terrible, more wasting^ storm within. 
 Blanche had not the heart to leave him. 
 
 '* Friends ! Miss Estcourte ! you dare to talk 
 to me of friendship ; heartless — cold — merci- 
 less deceiver that you have been ! Why did 
 you say you were glad to see me ? And now 
 affect anxiety about my health ! If I die, it 
 will be you, and not the storm, that has 
 killed me !" 
 
 A hollow, deep cough interrupted his further 
 speech. Blanche, now deeply alarmed, spoke 
 to him earnestly, and even affectionately. 
 
 " St. Ormonde, you distress me beyond ex-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 81 
 
 pression. I never deceived you. I never could 
 have done ; for till this hour I have not sus- 
 pected your feelings. See ! we are both drip- 
 ping with wet, and much exposed on this hill. 
 If not for your o\mi sake, do turn towards a 
 shelter for mine — do, dear St. Ormonde !" 
 
 In an instant the young nobleman sprang to 
 his feet. 
 
 " Selfish brute that I am !" he said, " to for- 
 get that you, too, might suffer. Blanche — 
 Blanche ! forgive me. You do not know what 
 it is to be wretched." 
 
 With a sudden impulse he tore off the light 
 riding coat w^hich he wore, and wrapped it 
 round Blanche, insisting upon supporting her 
 towards the house. Expostulation, entreaty, 
 were of no avail ; and Blanche was compelled to 
 accept the support of the thin, muscular arm, 
 which quivered still with the emotions of the 
 weak frame, and to listen to the language, 
 alternately of love and bitter accusation, which, 
 for. very pity, she could not at that moment 
 check. At length, they came within sight of 
 the house. 
 
 " Farewell, Blanche ! — farewell, for ever !" 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " You will come in, Lord St. Ormonde — you 
 will change your dress, surely ! I will not allow 
 YOU to bid me farewell, so solemnly " said 
 Blanche, shocked at his tone. 
 
 " No ! — I will ride directly home. But 
 Blanche, three days hence, I will see you again, 
 and, if then, you repeat this cruel sentence, it is 
 for the last time that we meet — for ever !" 
 
 He left her abruptly; and Blanche entered 
 the mansion. 
 
 " Has Mademoiselle been with you, Blanche ?" 
 said her little sister ; who, frightened at the 
 lightning, had been traversing the house in search 
 of a refuge, " she has been out all the afternoon." 
 
 " No, dear Flo ! not with me !" answered 
 Blanche, turning, as she spoke, towards the 
 windows. At that instant, the lighting struck a 
 splendid flowering chesnut, rich in its plumy 
 blossoms, at some distance upon the lawn. The 
 split, and blackened trunk fell prostrate on the 
 earth. 
 
 " Fit conclusion for such a day 1" murmured 
 Blanche. 
 
 The governess appeared, as she spoke, from 
 the beech avenue.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 83 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 It appeared to Blanche very singular that, 
 let people view her case from what point they 
 might, all seemed to take it for granted that 
 her step-mother was to be selfish, hard-hearted, 
 and unkind ; her own position, oppressed and 
 wretched. Since no one is altogether exempt 
 from the influence of general opinion, and 
 Blanche^s inexperience rendered her peculiarly 
 susceptible of its sway, she began to take the 
 impression she received on all sides as a matter 
 of course ; though she could not, on reflection, 
 remember one distinct accusation which had 
 been brought against Lady Estcourte. 
 
 Such anticipations were not calculated to 
 dispel the dark cloud of despondency which had 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 gathered round her heart, and for some days 
 her lonely rambles and solitary musings were 
 uncheered by one bright vision. Flora was 
 too young for confidence and sympathy ; and 
 from Mademoiselle Rochard, Blanche felt a 
 degree of alienation which she could not explain 
 to herself, but it effectually prevented her from 
 seeking her society or companionship. Perhaps 
 the feeling was increased, since Mademoiselle's 
 announcement of the fatal paragraph ! We feel 
 instinctively, from what quarter pain is con- 
 sciously and intentionally inflicted on us : well 
 would it be if we could bear the truth when 
 the wound is reluctantly dealt by the hand of 
 sympathizing affection ! 
 
 It was, therefore, with some sensation of 
 relief, that one morning, a few days subsequent 
 to the events of the foregoing chapter, Blanche 
 beheld the approach of an elegant little phaeton, 
 drawn by a pair of beautiful cream-coloured 
 ponies, and guided by the hands of her cousin, 
 and frequent companion, Georgina Bloomfield. 
 
 They had not met for a considerable time, 
 owing to Miss Bloomfield's absence in London ; 
 and Blanche would once have hailed her cousin s
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 85 
 
 return with unmixed delight. Now, however, 
 the current of thought and feeling had worked 
 itself into a deeper channel, and even from 
 Georgina, she felt that all which interested her, 
 must be withheld. Had her cousin been of a 
 more sympathizing nature, this might not have 
 been the case ; but the familiar intercourse of 
 light, unquenched spirits is not the friendship of 
 congenial hearts and minds, though the world 
 often calls it so. Time, alone, proves the true 
 touchstone. 
 
 Miss Bloomfield was rather little, but her 
 gait and carriage conveyed a certain sense of 
 dignity and importance, which would have been 
 more imposing, if her deportment had not been 
 also the least in the world bustling and em- 
 presse. Her well rounded figure was generally 
 attired in the richest materials, and after the 
 most distinguished modes, with less reference to 
 what might be becoming to Georgina Bloomfield, 
 than what might be suitable to the heiress of 
 Marwood. Her face, which was round, good- 
 humoured, blooming, and blue-eyed, was never 
 meant for a Lady Patroness ; and the half- 
 roguish smile which now and then peeped from
 
 86 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 under the shadow of her dignity, gave room for 
 the hope that nature had not quite resigned her 
 sway over the young heiress. 
 
 This morning, on arriving at the Priory, she 
 threw the reins to her attendant, then beckoning 
 her groom, (for Miss Bloomfield never stirred 
 without an outrider,) she gave him some elabo- 
 rate directions with regard to a small parcel with 
 which she had been entrusted, for Mademoiselle 
 Rochard, by a friend in London, In fact, it 
 was no secret, the parcel had been placed in her 
 charge by Mrs. Grant. 
 
 This done, the young lady descended from her 
 phaeton, and advanced with a somewhat stately 
 air to meet her cousin, who was strolling on the 
 lawn when she arrived. 
 
 " Ah ! Blanche, dear !'' and the cousins 
 embraced. " I could not rest, until I had seen 
 you. I have made a point of coming the very 
 first thing.'^ 
 
 " Dear Georgy 1 I am so glad to see you." 
 
 ** I am sure you must be, dear. Really I 
 considered it a positive duty to look to you a 
 little under present circumstances, or I should 
 probably have prolonged my stay in town.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 87 
 
 When do my uncle and Lady Estcourte reach 
 home ?" 
 
 "To-night. I have just had a letter from 
 papa. He desires that dinner may be ordered 
 for half-past six." Blanche was much agitated. 
 
 Without noticing this, her cousin proceeded, 
 " I am, then, only just arrived in time. I 
 assure you, Blanche, I left half London au 
 desespoir, in order to be with you at this trying 
 period." 
 
 " How kind of you ! But 1 am very sorry, 
 if my — my troubles have interrupted your 
 pleasures," said Blanche. 
 
 " Oh ! never mind, dear ! I could not allow 
 you to be alone, to encounter all that is before 
 you." 
 
 " But Georgy ! have you heard anything so 
 very — so very — dreadful of Lady Estcourte, 
 that you speak in this tone ?" demanded Blanche, 
 looking very pale. 
 
 " Oh ! you can have no idea, child, what 
 things are said about her. In fact, I was posi- 
 tively assured by a gentleman who knew her 
 well, an officer in the — th Lancers, that she 
 is a notorious flirt, and that she had actually 
 
 %
 
 88 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 proposed to him. He believed she was in the 
 habit of doing so to almost every gentleman she 
 met. Then I know from the best authority," 
 (and here Miss Bloomfield lowered her voice, 
 and looked very grave, and asked Blanche to 
 walk with her towards the flower garden, as if 
 to secure herself from being overheard) " I 
 know that she is almost a Roman Catholic — 
 has the sternest of dispositions, and the worst 
 of tempers. And, besides, she is exceedingly 
 parsimonious, and tyrannical in the extreme." 
 
 The whole of the strictly confidential part of 
 this information. Miss Bloomfield had obtained 
 from her maid, Henriette, who appeared to be 
 plentifully furnished, from some private source^ 
 with particulars of the birth, parentage, and 
 education of Edith, Lady Estcourte. The 
 former part of her communication, the fair 
 Georgina had elicited from Major Aubrey, over a 
 strawberry ice at Chiswick. 
 
 Poor Blanche ! 
 
 " I hear, too, dear, that Lady Estcourte 
 dresses atrociously. You know, by the bye, 
 that no one wears anything now, but these 
 Imperatrice bonnets. How do you like mine ?"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 89 
 
 Thus called upon for an opinion, Blanche 
 was obliged to commence the survey of her 
 cousin's toilet, which she saw was expected of 
 her. And when she noticed, for the first time, 
 the elegantly drooping plumes upon Miss 
 Bloomfield's bonnet, and the deep, lustrous folds 
 of the watered and brocaded tabinet, which gave 
 a sharp brush along the gravel at every step, 
 surmounted, in its turn, by the falls of Brussels 
 lace which garnished the mantelet, Blanche 
 really felt surprised that such a sumptuous little 
 figure, accompanying her along the shady walks 
 which led to the flower garden, should have 
 escaped her attention so long. 
 
 Not that Miss Estcourte, in her person, exhi- 
 bited any indifference about dress. Her simple 
 and becoming toilette gave evidence of habitual 
 taste and care. But, as she walked by her cousin's 
 side, her light muslin floating about her slight, 
 girlish figure, there was such a total absence of 
 all consciousness on the subject, such an evident 
 absorption in matters quite foreign to self, that 
 the cousins formed a striking contrast. In her 
 youthful simplicity and her maiden pensiveness, 
 Blanche seemed more of the child, and yet also
 
 90 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 more of the woman, than her lively and gossip- 
 ing companion. 
 
 In spite of her abstraction, however, she com- 
 manded her attention so far, as to pay the 
 expected compliments to the Imperatrice bonnet, 
 and subsequently to listen with the proper 
 degree of interest to a recital of the " styles" of 
 wreath and coiffure, collar and Polonaise, which 
 had been, were, or were likely to be " worn," 
 in that especial Anno Domini, 185 — . 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Blanche ! if you had seen the 
 exquisite lilies I wore at the Caledonian ball ! 
 Major Aubrey said — but no matter what he 
 said — he is very agreeable, but not altogether 
 my style — poor man ! I wore my most becom- 
 ing dress at Lady Armadale's fete — so delightful 
 it would have been if — if — well — to be honest, 
 if Captain Egerton had been there. He is 
 desperately epris, Blanche !" 
 
 " With you, dear Georgy ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear ! with whom else ? And curiously 
 enough, he is a friend of Mr. Mainwaring's. 
 How devoted you are to those verbenas, Blanche ! 
 There ! I am sure you have gathered plenty — 
 you have stooped till you are almost as scarlet
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 91 
 
 as they are. Our wise friend, Ernest Mainwa- 
 ring, little thought how he was ruining his own 
 chance in extolling his charming rival to me." 
 
 " Did — did Mr. Mainwaring propose to you, 
 Georgy ? I thought he was engaged to Lady 
 Armadale," said Blanche, again stooping to add 
 some mignionette to her bouquet. The mig- 
 nionette was entangled amongst scarlet gera- 
 niums, and Miss Estcourte was determined to 
 have none but the best and finest sprigs, and 
 altogether, it w^as so difficult to extricate them, 
 that the affair occupied Blanche the whole time 
 of her cousin's reply. 
 
 ** Propose ! no, not exactly. I decidedly dis- 
 couraged his attentions. In fact, I should not 
 have bestowed even as much time upon him as 
 I did, but for the sake of hearing a little of his 
 irresistible friend. \Yith him, the case was quite 
 different. He thought of every subject likely to 
 interest me, and left no means untried to engage 
 my attention. He even talked to infinity about 
 you, Blanche, because you were my cousin." 
 
 The mignionette would not be gathered — 
 never was such obstinate mignionette ! And, 
 considering that she had just snapped the stem
 
 92 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 of a splendid branch of geranium, it was no 
 wonder that Blanche was provoked, and that she 
 answered her cousin negligently. 
 
 " Mr. Mainwaring was extremely kind. But 
 all this was very odd if he was engaged to Lady 
 Armadale." 
 
 " Ah ! Blanche ! You do not know the 
 world." (Miss Bloomfield was exactly a year 
 and a half older than her cousin) " When you 
 have seen as much of life as I have, dear, 
 you will find that people flirt just the same, 
 whether they are engaged or not — witness, in- 
 deed, Lady Armadale herself — how she did go 
 on with that old Sir Perceval Grant at her fete ! 
 However, I must do Mr. Mainwaring the justice 
 to say that I believe my positive rejection of his 
 advances drove him to the side of the Countess. 
 All the world says he is marrying her for her 
 jointure." 
 
 " It is quite certain that they are engaged, 
 then ?" murmured a low, faint voice, from the 
 flower beds. 
 
 " Quite certain. It is in everybody's mouth. 
 He stayed away from her party to avoid the 
 gossip — and the thing was understood as a/azY
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 93 
 
 accompli. The countess herself allows it ; that 
 is she does not deny it. Lovely creature she is — 
 beautiful as the day — and she dresses exqui- 
 sitely — and she sings like an angel. He is 
 coming down to Alringham to prepare for her, 
 and the marriage is to take place immediately." 
 
 Blanche slowly arose. But she had not 
 stooped long enough to flush herself this time. 
 Her cheeks and lips were white as the jessamine, 
 she had just torn from its stem ; and she tot- 
 tered for an instant before resuming her walk. 
 She heard nothing more. Only there was a 
 constant tingling in her ears, in which one note 
 seemed incessantly to be rung. And, under the 
 sound of operas, reviews, and balls, varied in 
 every possible phase, Blanche's broken spirit took 
 its desperate resolve. 
 
 When Clarence Egerton declared that Miss 
 Bloomfield sought but to gratify her vanity by a 
 flirtation with himself, he did our little heiress 
 less than justice. She had been really touched 
 by his attentions ; and, contrarily to her usual 
 spirit of self-complacency, had sincerely doubted 
 in her own inmost mind, whether he was not too 
 superior to her to be sincere in them. We know
 
 94 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 not what peculiar organ is distinguished by 
 phrenologists as the counterpoise to a preponde- 
 rating self-esteem ; but of this we are quite 
 sure, that egotistical or vain as the individual 
 may be, if true love once can touch the heart, 
 self- depreciation is sure to follow : and the idol 
 self is soon dethroned, to be replaced, alas 1 by 
 another — still an idol. 
 
 Once upon the subject to which she had been 
 longing to bring the conversation, the young 
 heiress was simple and earnest. And, if Blanche 
 had comprehended a syllable of her conversation, 
 she would have entered warmly into the interest 
 excited by every invaluable word which had 
 dropped from Captain Egerton's lips, and every 
 smile which his countenance had graciously 
 condescended to wear. Above all, she might 
 have heard — what now she missed — that he 
 was about to become Lord St. Ormonde's guest, 
 and to contest South — shire with Ernest Main- 
 waring. 
 
 " I shall certainly give Mr. Egerton my in- 
 terest," continued Georgina, in a loftier tone, 
 and with an air of deep national responsibility. 
 " I consider his political principles sound ; and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 95 
 
 have already directed Dalton to prepare my 
 tenants for the election. By the bye, we really 
 shall have a charming neighbourhood . this year. 
 The — th Lancers are ordered to Tilverton, and 
 some of the officers are delightful — Major Au- 
 brey, for instance. I must, of course, notice 
 them. Then G — is coming down to take my 
 portrait. He is charming ; and I was told by 
 a gentleman — by Captain Egerton, in fact — that 
 he made the most graceful pictures of any artist 
 of the day. So, you see, Blanche, I have done 
 my utmost to get up a little amusement for 
 you.'' 
 
 Miss Bloomfield made a pause : and Blanche, 
 feeling that it was strictly her turn to speak, 
 turned her wan face to her cousin, and began. 
 " Oh, yes, Georgy — indeed ! I am sure — I — " 
 " As I live, here is Mr. Vivian !" exclaimed 
 Georgina, pointing to the path which led from 
 the house. From under the shadow of the 
 trees appeared, as she spoke, the figure of that 
 gentleman ; advancing with a deliberation and 
 composure all his own, and, with the air of one 
 expected to the meeting with the two young 
 ladies.
 
 96 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 The Reverend Theobald Vivian was an indivi- 
 dual of no common mould, and, once seen, not 
 likely to be forgottoii. In person, he was tall, 
 and graceful as Apollo : and his countenance, if 
 not strictly handsome, might perhaps more 
 appropriately be called beautiful. It wore an 
 expression of self subdued — of purity, and faith, 
 and deep devotion. His cheeks were pale as 
 statuary marble, save when at rare intervals a 
 transient flush passed across them: yet his 
 brow, from which thick clustering masses of 
 bright auburn hair were pushed back, seemed 
 paler still. And the large blue eyes, soft and 
 serious, and solemn, always seeing, yet never 
 watching, finished the contour of a countenance 
 which Raphael would have coveted for his model 
 of a St. John. 
 
 Mr. Vivian spoke little ; but when he did 
 speak, his words never fell to the ground. His 
 manner was so perfect a combination of humi- 
 lity and confidence, that, whilst it never wound- 
 ed the vanity of others, it rivetted their attention 
 and respect. Though his judgments were 
 generally confined to a few simple expressions, 
 it was astonishing how eagerly his opinion was
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 97 
 
 desired before it was given — how influential 
 when given. And, if a doubtful subject was 
 canvassed in his presence, by some extraordinary 
 influence, his countenance — which, perhaps, in 
 its expression, was one of the most unvarying 
 in the world — was watched for an indication of 
 the bias of his sentiments — an indication which 
 never appeared there. 
 
 To account, in some measure, for the moral 
 power he possessed, we must say that his senti- 
 ments, when expressed, were generally just and 
 true ; his character pious and excellent ; his 
 actions benevolent and charitable. Add to this, 
 that his manners bore the indisputable stamp of 
 high breeding ; his every movement was dignified 
 and graceful ; and we may find some reasons to 
 justify his popularity. But our strongest point 
 remains behind. What brought the world to 
 his feet, was precisely that quaHty in which the 
 world could not, or would not, imitate him ; so 
 satisfied its conscience with shaking its head, and 
 admiring, and wondering. It was his unflinch- 
 ing, invariable, rigid, and uncompromising, self- 
 denial. 
 
 Of all victories, military, political, or social, 
 
 VOL. I, H
 
 98 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 none gives one tithe of the power of a victory over 
 self. It places the conqueror beyond the power 
 of others — for rivalship cannot supplant him — 
 envy cannot reach him. And the human 
 mind bows before a force utterly independent of 
 its homage. 
 
 When Mr. Vivian met the cousins, he fixed 
 his mild eyes for a moment upon the pallid 
 countenance of Blanche, to w^hom he silently 
 presented his hand. Then, without taking fur- 
 ther notice, he placidly turned towards Miss 
 Bloomfield, and made the usual inquiries, politely 
 but briefly, for her mother's health and her own. 
 
 Georgina was the least in the world 
 afraid of Mr. Vivian; for the very obvious 
 reason that he was impervious to all her small 
 artillery. What was the use of being a beauty, 
 to a man who never w^as know^n to flirt ! or a 
 genius to a man who never appeared to listen ! or 
 an heiress to a man who considered poverty a 
 virtue ! So there was nothing left for it but to 
 be all humility, and to submit most engagingly 
 to be set right whenever Mr. Vivian thought it 
 w'orth his while to consider her wrong. And, 
 in truth, if that gentleman's manner could ever
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 99 
 
 be termed in the least degree dictatorial, it was 
 when addressing Miss Bloomfield. With her, 
 he was, to say the least, always very dignified. 
 
 " Oh ! thank you !" she said, in her most 
 propitiating tone, and with an emphasis which 
 bespoke unbounded gratitude. " Dear mamma 
 is, I hope, much better for Dr. Nimmervohl's 
 kind care. She will be delighted to see you at 
 Marwood, whenever you can spare an hour of 
 your valuable time." 
 
 Mr. Vivian made a slight bow ; and some 
 vague sound escaped his hps which we believe to 
 to have been an acknowledgment of the invita- 
 tion. 
 
 " And I really have so many plans about 
 which I am longing to consult you !" 
 
 " Indeed !" replied her auditor, in a tone of 
 slight surprise. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! the new school, you know. I 
 have brought down hosts of models and plans, 
 and engaged P — as the architect. But I will 
 not have a stone laid until I have your taste on 
 the subject." 
 
 " Mr. P — has great experience. I have no 
 doubt he will give you satisfaction." 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " I am so glad you think highly of him. But 
 the question is — shall it be early English or 
 Florid?" 
 
 The clergyman replied to this appeal, which 
 seemed made to his very heart and conscience, 
 by simply enquiring : 
 
 " Have you made up your mind to build a 
 school. Miss Bloomfield ?" 
 
 " Ah ! Flora, dear ! how are you ?" exclaimed 
 Georgina, turning to the little girl, who came 
 bounding across the lawn towards them. " How 
 you are grown ! is she not ? Mr. Vivian ! I know 
 Flora is a great pet of yours." 
 
 But the most serious questions appeared fated 
 on this morning to receive no answers, or merely 
 to be replied to by others. 
 
 Mr. Vivian took no notice of Miss Bloom- 
 field's interesting query ; but, gently taking the 
 child's hand, asked her why she was in such 
 haste this morning. 
 
 " Oh I because — because some one is wait- 
 ing to see Blanche : and she is to go into the 
 house as fast as she can — into the library." 
 
 Mr. Vivian's quiet gaze was in a moment 
 transferred to Miss Estcourte's countenance.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 10 i 
 
 She answered, with indifference amounting 
 almost to apathy : 
 
 " Who want's me, Flora ?" 
 
 " Some one. I was not to tell you who," 
 said Flora, great in all the importance of having 
 a secret to keep, before such an audience. 
 
 A hectic flush passed across Blanche's cheek 
 — something like a smile across Mr. Vivian's 
 lips. And Georgina, quite out of her element 
 when not the heroine of the piece, exclaimed : 
 
 " Upon my word, quite a well got up mystery ! 
 Would you like me to accompany you, dear ? 
 It is so very improper that Blanche should 
 encounter this stranger alone, you know," con- 
 tinued her patronising cousin, addressing herself 
 to Mr. Vivian, as to one who, like her, knew the 
 world, and, like her, was a self-constituted guar- 
 dian of poor, infantine Blanche. 
 
 But nothing more could be elicited from the 
 lips of the clergyman than a quiet : 
 
 ** Miss Estcourte is the best judge." 
 
 Blanche Estcourte did not speak a syllable ; 
 but rose from the garden chair on which they 
 had been seated, and, without directing look or 
 comment towards the party she was leaving, 
 proceeded to walk along the path leading to the
 
 102 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 house. Her step had a constrained firmness ; 
 her face and form an unnatural rigidity. And, 
 by any who had encountered her in her progress, 
 she might have been mistaken for a sleep- 
 walker. 
 
 " What do you think he will do to her, 
 Georgy ?" said Flora, whose apprehensions had 
 been greatly excited by the ominous tone of 
 Georgina's speech ; and who began to fear that, 
 after all, her confidential mission might bring 
 her sister into danger. 
 
 " He ! who ? It is a gentleman, then !" 
 said Miss Bloomfield. The child coloured; 
 and Mr. Vivian, coming to her relief, put his 
 arm round her, and drew her towards him, 
 inquiring where she had left Mademoiselle. 
 
 " She is walking towards the lodge," replied 
 the httle girl, " and she told me I might say so 
 to any one who asked me, and — " 
 
 " The charge was quite needless when such a 
 little chatterer was concerned," said Mr. Vivian, 
 as with inimitable grace, he stooped to kiss the 
 child, and thus stopped her further utterance. 
 At the same moment he drew out his watch, 
 and expressing surprise at the lateness of the 
 hour, presented his hand to Miss Bloomfield.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 103 
 
 • " I have an appointment, and must bid you 
 good morning. Stay with your cousin, Flora, 
 to entertain her until your sister's return." 
 
 And having, as usual, mildly settled every 
 thing according to his own will, unopposed, Mr. 
 Vivian left the pleasure grounds by an adjoining 
 gate, and traversed the park ; never, for an 
 instant, losing the demeanour of one whose 
 inner life was independent of the world around 
 him — who was in it, but not of it — impervious 
 to its taste and sympathies — unaffected by its 
 joys and sorrows. 
 
 But his courtesy never slept. In crossing the 
 park homewards, he overtook Mademoiselle 
 Rochard ; and, it was remarked by the lodge- 
 keepers, (who like most of the poor, considered 
 him a very free, pleasant gentleman indeed) 
 that if Mademoiselle had been my Lady herself, 
 Mr. Vivian could not have hastened towards 
 her more promptly, nor talked to her more 
 earnestly, than he did to the salaried governess 
 whom the servants at the Hall were apt to 
 speak of sometimes as only *' hired" like them- 
 selves. 
 , When the clergyman and Mademoiselle
 
 104 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Adele parted, the latter turned towards home 
 with greatly accelerated speed, and the luncheon 
 hell sounded when she was yet at some distance 
 from the house. On hearing it, she almost flew 
 towards the mansion, and, entering the hall, 
 threw off her bonnet and cloak, and, with 
 all a Frenchwoman's confidence in her own 
 toilette, joined the party in the dining-room. 
 
 If Miss Bloomfield and Flora had obeyed Mr. 
 Vivian to the letter, and awaited the return of 
 Blanche, they might have remained in the 
 flower-garden until the shades of evening closed 
 over them. Their patience was soon exhausted, 
 however, and the child, actuated by an un- 
 defined anxiety for her sister, begged Georgina 
 to return to the house. 
 
 " I conclude. Miss Flo, that when there, I 
 am not to be honoured by adm.ission to this 
 mysterious conference in the library," said 
 Georgina, rather pettishly ; for she felt that the 
 part assigned to her was unsuitable to the 
 dignity of the heiress of Marwood. 
 
 As they approached, a gentleman on horse- 
 back left the Priory. But owing to the dis- 
 tance, he eluded the scrutinizing gaze of Miss
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 105 
 
 Bloomfield as to a discovery of his identity. It 
 was provoking, however, to have lost so ready 
 an opportunity of satisfying her curiosity ; still 
 more so, to find the drawing-room untenanted, 
 and to receive a message from Blanche begging 
 her to proceed alone to the luncheon, as, in 
 consequence of a severe headache, Miss 
 Estcourte had retired to her own chamber to 
 lie down for an hour or tw^o before her father's 
 arrival, and entreated that she might not be 
 disturbed. 
 
 It would be difficult to say whether Miss 
 Bloomfield or Mademoiselle Rochard were the 
 most out of temper that day at luncheon ; but, 
 as few w^ords passed between them, neither dis- 
 covered that the cause of her own annoyance, 
 was irritating the other. And Flora, relieved 
 of her fears of some bodily harm to Blanche, 
 only was sensible of a general feeling that she 
 never was so happy when her sister was away. 
 
 The unconscious cause of all this bafiled 
 espionage was seated in her own apartment, 
 on a low ottoman near the chimney piece, 
 her head resting against its pillars — her lips, 
 cheeks, and whole complexion as white as the
 
 106 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 marble against which she leaned. Now and 
 then a convulsive shudder came across her 
 frame, and a low moan passed her breath ; but 
 for the most part, she remained fixed, immobile, 
 and tearless; a picture of utter hopelessness. 
 
 And this was the young girl who had, an 
 hour before, silently yielded her maiden faith to 
 the first match of the county ! this was the 
 future peeress, who was to be envied, courted, 
 caressed, as the happy, the adored wife of — 
 the man she did not love. 
 
 The world must judge by externals. But let 
 none envy a woman's destiny, however brilliant, 
 if they have no other grounds whereon to judge 
 than its outward seeming. Lord St. Ormonde's 
 affianced bride was a \ready alive to the fact, 
 that, in yielding to the despairing impulse of a 
 disappointed heart, as well as to the despondency 
 resulting from the apparent circumstances of 
 her home, and allowing the young nobleman 
 to take his suit for granted, she had augmented, 
 rather than lightened, the load of a crushed spirit. 
 
 For some unexplained reason, Lord St. 
 Ormonde had requested that what had passed 
 should, for the present, remain a secret between
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 10? 
 
 the two. And to this Blanche had readily 
 assented, caring not to question a matter which 
 seemed to her comparatively indifferent. 
 
 Had there been a faithful friend near her at 
 this crisis, to understand and sympathize, and 
 by patient interest to win her confidence, 
 Blanche might have been spared the fearful 
 disciphne which overtakes every heart when it 
 would put an end to its own anguish by a 
 moral suicide. 
 
 But the day wore on — five — six o'clock 
 sounded on the alarum. And Blanche was 
 aware that she should be expected, as w^as 
 natural, to be present on her father's arrival, 
 and to offer some sort of welcome to his dreaded 
 companion. She rose from the posture in 
 which she had remained the whole afternoon, 
 and made a careless and hasty toilette. There 
 were no traces of tears to obliterate ; for she 
 had shed none. Her grief was cold and dry, 
 and exhibited itself by no sign save the hue of 
 her countenance, which rivalled the whiteness 
 of her snowy dress. In her young despair, she 
 believed that she had already met the worst, 
 and that even Lady Estcourte herself could now 
 add nothing to her misery. Yet a slight flutter
 
 108 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 played round her heart as she descended the 
 staircase, and, reaching the hall, heard Sir 
 Reginald's carriage suddenly stop at the portico. 
 In the drawing-room Georgina was already 
 established, buried alike in the cushions of a 
 luxurious fauteuil, and in the pages of a 
 fashionable novel. Much piqued, and perhaps 
 justly, at Blanche's desertion of her, with so 
 little of explanation or apology, Georgina had 
 made no further attempt to join her cousin, and, 
 but for her curiosity to see Lady Estcourte on 
 her arrival, would probably have returned to 
 Marwood. As it was, she summoned her maid, 
 and, without absolutely relating to her the 
 events of the morning, made her sentiments so 
 very visible, that Henriette hastened to satisfy 
 her curiosity on one point, which was the 
 identitv of Blanche's visitor with Lord St. 
 Ormonde, a fact, of course, perfectly well known 
 to the servants. This information only puz- 
 zled Miss Bloomfield the more ; but, far from 
 suspecting the truth, she attributed the circum- 
 stance of his visit to information he had to give, 
 in some way connected with the coming 
 election. It was a remarkable fact that 
 Georgina — and it is a remarkable fact that
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 109 
 
 almost all vain and egotistical persons — never 
 seem for an instant to suppose another capable 
 of inspiring that passion with which they 
 imagine all who approach themselves to be 
 immediately transfixed. 
 
 On the same assumption, and in order that 
 Lady Estcomte should receive a suitable im- 
 pression of her niece, Miss Bloomfield arrayed 
 herself in the most elaborate demi-toilette 
 which her own and Henriette's taste conjoined 
 could select ; thus offering a tacit homage to 
 the coming lady of the mansion which their 
 accompanying observations — made on the pait 
 of the young lady from folly and vanity, on the 
 part of her maid from design — did their utmost 
 to disavow. Having declared her intention to 
 intimate to her new aunt by the coolness of her 
 reception, that she " had her eye upon her," 
 Georgina descended to the drawing-room ; 
 placed herself in an elegantly negligent attitude, 
 and never bethought herself, till the carriage 
 drove to the door, and Blanche entered too late 
 for explanations, how odd her presence there, on 
 such an occasion, uninvited, must appear to her 
 uncle !
 
 110 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Before the cousins could exchange a word, 
 the door was again opened, and Sir Reginald and 
 Lady Estcourte entered the room. 
 
 " Blanche ! my love !" said her father. 
 
 The appeal was needful. Blanche was stand- 
 ing by the table, for she had not had time to 
 seat herself; and, as Sir Reginald entered with 
 his bride, she turned her pale, sad face towards 
 them in seeming unconsciousness. The ex- 
 pression startled her father, but he was not of 
 the mould to betray his emotions. And, attribut- 
 ing her pallid look to the peculiar agitation of 
 the moment, he advanced towards her, kissed 
 her, and taking her hand, said : 
 
 " My dear child ! this is your mother."
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. Ill 
 
 Blanche felt herself clasped in a warm em- 
 brace, and a sweet voice said agitatedly, " Let me 
 be such to you, dear girl !" And, for the first 
 time, Blanche raised her eyes to examine the 
 countenance of her step-mother. 
 
 Lady Estcourte was still young, though pro- 
 bably fifteen years older than Blanche. The 
 beauty of her face, for there certainly was beauty, 
 consisted so much in expression, that years had 
 contributed to increase, rather than diminish, its 
 interest. Her complexion and hair were in- 
 clining to fair, but her eyes were very dark, and 
 her cheeks tinged with a bright bloom. At the 
 present moment, united to the man she loved, 
 and excited by the meeting with his child, her 
 countenance was radiant with happiness and 
 womanly tenderness. 
 
 She saw Blanche's look, and kissed her pale 
 cheek again, in answer to it. 
 
 This was too much. Blanche could have 
 withstood coldness — indifference — neglect. She 
 had strung herself to meet them; and acted, 
 alas 1 on the conviction that they would be offered 
 to her. But to be asked to accept a mother's 
 love — to be able to read in that truthful counte-
 
 112 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 nance that she might have it, if she would ! 
 Alas ! what had she done 1 The flood-gates were 
 opened, and she burst into an agony of tears. 
 
 Sir Reginald, unaccustomed to any display of 
 feeling on the part of his daughter, looked dis- 
 tressed, and silently turned away. His wife 
 instinctively comprehended Blanche's emotion, 
 and, retaining her hand within her own, said 
 quietly, as soon as the first gush had subsided : 
 
 " And your little sister, dear Blanche ! I hope 
 she is well?" 
 
 Sir Reginald caught the words, and turned 
 quickly round — -"Yes ! where is Flora? I thought 
 she would be here to meet us." 
 
 As he gave a hasty glance around, his eye 
 rested on his niece, who, having remained en- 
 tirely unnoticed during the foregoing scene, 
 thought that it was time her presence should be 
 recognized. And rising from her pose plastiquey 
 so lamentably thrown away, she was preparing 
 to introduce herself to her Aunt. 
 
 "You here, Georgina l" Sir Reginald ex- 
 claimed ; and the tone was certainly not one of 
 cordial welcome. " My niece, Miss Bloomfield 
 — Ladv Estcourte."
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 113 
 
 Edith turned her mild, but penetrating eyes 
 upon Georgina for a second or two ; then ad- 
 vancing towards her, with a slight apology for 
 not having seen her before, she held out her 
 hand — and, with much grace, but with all the 
 dignity of the lady of the mansion, she expressed 
 her pleasure at welcoming Miss Bloomfield. 
 
 What had become of Georgina's intended cool 
 reception of Lady Estcourte ! She was deter- 
 mined, however, to make one effort at being 
 disagreeable. 
 
 " Thank you !" she said. " You are very 
 good. The Priory has hitherto been my second 
 home." 
 
 Lady Estcourte smiled, and turned towards 
 her husband, who was caressing Flora. The 
 child had appeared, on his inquiring after her, 
 with a celerity which would have given reason for 
 the supposition that she was within hearing of 
 it. However that might be, her governess 
 modestly remained at the door of the apartment 
 when Flora sprang forward to her father's em- 
 brace. 
 
 "And now you must kiss your Mamma, my 
 darling," said Sir Reginald. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 He led her towards Lady Estcourte, but the 
 child resisted a little, and hung back, fixing her 
 eyes steadfastly on Edith's countenance. " You 
 know you are not my Mamma," she said, colour- 
 ing violently, '' and you have made Blanche cry." 
 
 " Oh ! Flora !" said Blanche. And there was 
 something in her sister's tone, which caused the 
 little girl to relax her opposition, and to suffer 
 herself to be quietly placed on Lady Estcourte's 
 knee. 
 
 " She is taller than I expected," said Edith, 
 looking at her husband, without noticing the 
 child's remarks. He was beginning to answer, 
 but was interrupted by Flora. 
 
 " Shall you cut off all my hair ?" exclaimed 
 she, looking earnestly at her step-mother, from 
 whose countenance she had never once withdrawn 
 her eyes. 
 
 There was something irresistibly ludicrous in 
 Flora's tone of apprehension. Lady Estcourte 
 laughed outright — Georgina laughed — Sir Regi- 
 nald — even Blanche was entirely overcome. 
 The question was a relief to the whole party. 
 
 " What could put such a thing into your head, 
 Flora?" said Edith.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 115 
 
 " Lady Bouverie said you would," answered 
 the child, quite seriously. 
 
 "Lady Bouverie was joking, I suppose," said 
 Edith, inwardly vexed, however, to find that such 
 means had been taken to create in the child's 
 mind an antipathy towards her. 
 
 Then drawing her fingers through the 
 luxuriant, bright tresses, she said, with a smile 
 which rather reassured Flora, " Perhaps some of 
 these days you will give me a lock of your hair 
 yourself. But now you must introduce me to 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 The governess approached : and, in a more 
 conciliatory manner than she was wont to assume, 
 expressed her joy at seeing Madame. She was 
 " ravie " — " enchantee " — she hoped that Ma- 
 dame was not " trop fatiguee^' — she was sure 
 Madame must want to rest, and '^ s'arranger 
 un peu." Should she show Madame her apart- 
 ment? Decidedly Lady Estcourte's warmest 
 reception was from Adele. 
 
 Lady Estcourte bowed her acknowledgments, 
 and politely declined Mademoiselle's assistance. 
 The gov^erness was forced to consider herself 
 dismissed. 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Dear Blanche !'' said Edith, passing her arm 
 through that of her step-daughter. " Will you 
 kindly make me at home here ?" 
 
 The shadow of a smile came across Blanche's 
 lips, and she complied with a quiet grace. They 
 ascended the broad oak staircase, with its soft 
 covering of velvet pile, and approached along the 
 gallery to the apartments prepared for Lady 
 Estcourte. So ignorant had Blanche been of 
 the orders which her father had given, and so 
 unobservant of the arrangements made for his 
 reception, that she was at a loss as to which of 
 the apartments had been prepared as a dressing- 
 room for Lady Estcourte. She now opened, on 
 the chance, the room which had been formerly 
 occupied by her own mother, and into that she 
 introduced her father's second wife. 
 
 There were few signs of preparation for a 
 lady's toilet therein. The furniture was solid 
 and handsome, but there was a total absence of 
 that air of luxurious refinement which at the 
 present time pervades the dressing-room, or 
 boudoir, of almost every lady accustomed to the 
 habits of a certain class of society. No softly 
 draperied toilet, nor inlaid cabinet — no rich glass
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 117 
 
 jUacon, nor antique watch-stand was there 
 awaiting the dainty touch of the lady of the 
 mansion. But without bestowing much atten- 
 tion on the room, with its stands of white 
 marble, and solid writing-table of dark green 
 morocco, Lady Estcourte turned to a picture 
 which hung over the chimney-piece ; and, turn- 
 ing to Blanche, she asked who was the subject 
 of the portrait. 
 
 Blanche looked up, and started. Colouring 
 violently she said, " that — that is poor Mamma. 
 I think 1 must have made a mistake. I sup- 
 pose — " she stopped short. 
 
 For a few minutes there was silence. Edith's 
 eyes were rivetted on the picture, and Blanche, 
 much distressed, was regarding her. Bitterly 
 did the young girl then regret that, in yielding 
 to the impulse of her feelings, and avoiding all 
 co-operation in the arrangements for her step- 
 mother's reception, she had lost the opportunity- 
 of going beforehand with those trifling attentions 
 and kindnesses which make so great a part of 
 the sum of human enjoyment, and, in the 
 distribution of which, feminine care and refine- 
 ment can invariably be detected — as well as
 
 118 THE SECOND WIPE. 
 
 subjected her father's present wife to the trj'ing- 
 test of being presented, immediately on entering 
 his house, to the portrait of his former one. 
 
 When Lady Estcourte had apparently satisfied 
 her curiosity by a lengthened survey of the 
 portrait, she turned and looked at Blanche. 
 Once more the young girl attempted to utter an 
 apology. 
 
 " I am very sorry. Lady Estcourte ! But I 
 thought this picture was in papa's dressing- 
 room. It used to be." 
 
 "Do not be sorry, love. I have only seen 
 at once what I must have seen ere long; and 
 for your sake and your dear father^s, shall 
 always regard with interest. Blanche ! your 
 mother was beautiful, and her countenance 
 confirms all I have heard of her goodness — 
 and — had it pleased God to spare her, doubtless 
 she would have made you happier than I can 
 .do. She was taken from "you, however ; and 
 now, Blanche, you will not deny to me the love 
 which she would have urged you to give to one 
 who will feel towards your father's children 
 truly the affection of a mother ! And, with 
 God's help, she will act towards them, as looking
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 119 
 
 on that sweet picture, she can faithfully and 
 earnestly believe its original would herself have 
 acted. Do you believe me, Blanche ?" 
 
 Lady Estcourte spoke solemnly, and with 
 deep emotion. Her words went to Blanche^s 
 heart, and she longed to throw herself into the 
 arms of the speaker, and to echo those sen- 
 timents of love, and confidence, and trust. But 
 she was held back by the recollection that she 
 could no longer tell Lady Estcourte all — that in 
 fact she was no longer mistress of her own 
 confidence. Her secret belonged to another, 
 and on the point of vital interest she was under 
 an obligation to dissimulate. 
 
 Sadly, therefore, and with an appearance of 
 hesitation, she prepared to reply to Edith's 
 appeal. As she took Lady Estcourte's hand, 
 and was raising it to her lips, to the surprise of 
 both ladies, the door was suddenly opened, and 
 Sir Reginald himself entered the apartment. 
 
 A w^ord, in passing, of Sir Reginald Estcourte. 
 His character was not an easy one to describe, 
 being considered by most people, a very difficult 
 one to discover, and his actions, rather than 
 his words, spoke his sentiments. In person he
 
 120 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 was slight and somewhat below the middle size, 
 but so perfectly proportioned, and with an air 
 so eminently thorough-bred, that you never 
 wished him taller. There was dignity in the 
 high aristocratic brow, from which the soft fine 
 hair retreated a good deal. And the coun- 
 tenance, if not handsome, was inexpressibly 
 interesting. In the clear, mild, grey eye was 
 combined a singularly reflective cast with that 
 rapid, furtive glance which sees everything. 
 The mouth, delicate, refined, and perfectly 
 formed, betrayed more than the eyes the sen- 
 timents of its possessor. In the voice there 
 was that china-like tone and frequent inflexion 
 which indicate a more than ordinarily sensitive 
 organization. The whole being looked, moved, 
 and spoke, the perfect gentleman. 
 
 By the few who really knew Sir Reginald, 
 he was deeply loved ; and it was a fact that he 
 had succeeded, at an interval of twenty years, in 
 engaging the almost idolizing aff'ection of the two 
 women whom he had successively married. 
 
 With his daughter the case was somewhat 
 different. When she had ceased to be a child, 
 he distrusted bis own capability of comprehend-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 121 
 
 ing her character and feelings, and was fearful 
 of wounding her delicacy, in claiming her 
 confidence. Blanche's shyness, the womanly 
 counterpart of his reserve, increased the distance 
 between them ; and, in truth, the father and 
 daughter were too much alike to assimilate. 
 The death of Lady Emily had severed the link 
 through which they might have been brought 
 into closer contact ; and, from that time, tender 
 as was the affection w^hich Sir Reginald bore 
 to his elder daughter, it was the common 
 understanding in the household, that, if any 
 formidable truth was to be told, or request to 
 be made, Miss Flora, " Papa's pet," was to be 
 the person entrusted with the commission. 
 
 Flora was proud of her supposed influence, 
 and fancied herself a person of great importance 
 with her Papa — a feeling which was not 
 moderated by any judicious management on the 
 part of her governess. But it was rather an 
 unexpected blow to her consequence, not to say, 
 also to that of Adele, when Sir Reginald, after 
 a lengthened absence from home, wrote a few 
 affectionate lines to Blanche, informing her that 
 he hoped to increase the happiness of both
 
 122 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 herself and his " darling Flo," by supplying 
 the place of the dearly beloved parent of whom 
 they had been deprived ; and nmerely sending " a 
 dozen kisses," to his little girl. 
 
 From that time Flora contrived, from some 
 source inexplicable to Blanche, constantly to 
 gather particulars respecting the appearance, 
 manners, and qualities of her expected step- 
 mother, by no means flattering to their object. 
 And, as she in no degree partook of Blanche's 
 timidity, there was but little chance of her 
 keeping her sentiments concealed. 
 
 But Sir Reginald had been too much 
 engrossed by other matters during the short 
 period he spent at the Priory previous to his 
 marriage, to notice certain childish petulancies 
 which Flora had uttered ; and, in truth, it was 
 wonderful how few of these escaped her in the 
 presence of her father. He had been a little 
 hurt at Blanche's silence on the subject nearest 
 the hearts of both; and, when he proposed 
 to her to accompany him on leaving the Priory, 
 and to be present at the marriage, he made the 
 suggestion with so much apparent indifference, 
 that Blanche, mistaking his wishes, and much
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 123 
 
 overcome, stammered out something like a 
 desire to be left behind. 
 
 It required nothing more to decide Sir 
 Reginald. He left the next morning, alone. 
 And, amidst the happiness which he felt in 
 once more clasping to his heart a partaker of 
 his every sorrow and every joy, and one whose 
 character, as he believed, rendered her so 
 adapted to fill that vacant place towards his 
 young daughters, for which he found himself so 
 incompetent, there came at times a sudden chill 
 upon his spirits, when he thought of Blanche, 
 and her unexplained silence. 
 
 Her wretched and downcast looks on his 
 arrival were not calculated to reassure him. 
 And with these impressions painfully at work 
 in his mind, his feelings may be better imagined 
 than described, when, on retiring, he opened 
 the door of his dressing-room, and found Edith 
 and Blanche standing, silent, and much agi- 
 tated, before Lady Emily's picture. Blanche 
 turned towards him with a startled, almost 
 a terrified look. 
 
 "Oh! Papa!" 
 
 "Well, Blanche 1" and Sir Reginald's coun-
 
 124 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 tenance assumed a grave and serious expression 
 beyond its wont. 
 
 " I thought that this was — " Blanche hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 *' My dressing-room," interposed Lady Est- 
 courte, " and by all appearances, dear Reginald 
 it seems to be yours. The mistake will soon be 
 rectified." 
 
 " Mistake ! Is it possible you did not know, 
 Blanche, the orders I had given ?" 
 
 But Blanche precipitately left the room the 
 moment the truth flashed upon her mind, as if 
 her presence there were an intrusion. There 
 was bitterness in the tone in which Sir Reginald 
 spoke to his wife. 
 
 " A somewhat cold welcome for you, my 
 Edith !" 
 
 "Dearest Reginald!" and Lady Estcourte laid 
 her hand upon her husband's shoulder, and gently 
 drawing him towards the picture, stood by his 
 side, gazing upon it — " One look of ^^affection 
 from you is all the welcome I want anywhere. 
 Do not think that the sight of that portrait, or 
 its position here can be unpleasing to me ! 1 
 honour you for loving her memory, and in time
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 125 
 
 I shall learn from you to love it too. In that 
 feeling, as in ever\- other you have, I would be 
 your partner, Reginald. Meantime, you must 
 leave Blanche and me to understand each other, 
 in our own way. I have no fear but that with 
 time, we shall succeed." 
 
 Sir Reginald smiled, and pressed his wife to 
 his bosom. 
 
 When they met again in the drawing-room, 
 the cloud had passed from his brow, and his 
 manner was gay and cheerful. 
 
 Lady Estcourte had looked very prepossessing 
 "when under the disadvantages of a travel-worn 
 dress, and of a sensation of fatigue and exhaustion. 
 Now, that she entered the drawing-room in a 
 fresh looking demi-toilette of pale blue, her 
 blight hair laid in bands upon her white, ex- 
 pansive forehead, her fair throat and arms re- 
 vealed in all their rounded beauty, even Georgina 
 was obliged inwardly to confess that, after all, 
 her dress was not atrocious, though rather simi- 
 ple and unexpensive. 
 
 Sir Reginald was standing with his niece at 
 an open window, watching Flora, who was on 
 the lawn, chasing a fine St. Bernard dog, or
 
 126 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 being chased by him, as the case might be ; and, 
 any way, succeeding fully to her satisfaction in 
 being frequently rolled upon the turf. Her 
 shouts of laughter had brought a corresponding 
 expression into her father's countenance. No 
 sooner, however, did the little girl perceive that 
 Lady Estcourte had joined the party, than the 
 colour mounted to her face, and she ceased to 
 gambol with the dog ; and with stealthy looks 
 towards the open window of the drawing-room, 
 she retreated, like a culprit caught in the fact. 
 
 No remark was made by any of the party 
 present — but the bright gleam passed from Sir 
 Reginald's brow. At that moment, dinner was 
 announced. 
 
 " Let Miss Estcourte know !" said her father. 
 
 " I am here, dear Papa. I beg your pardon,'* 
 said Blanche, entering, with a voice which she 
 intended should be cheerful. But, unfortunately 
 her eyes told a different tale. Sir Reginald 
 looked at her, and stood for a second or two : 
 then, offering his arm to his wife, he turned 
 towards his niece. 
 
 " Excuse me, Georgina ! but to-day I must 
 show Lady Estcourte the way to the dining-room."
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 1*27 
 
 " Pray do not mention it, dear Uncle ! I 
 assure you that both Blanche and myself shall 
 feel ecah other's company far the most natural 
 and—" 
 
 Miss Bloomfield stopped short — for Lady 
 Estcourte's calm, penetrating eyes were fixed 
 upon her. The word which was intended so 
 politely to finish her sentence never came to 
 light ; for there flashed upon Georgina something 
 like a conviction that rudeness would contribute 
 but little towards enhancing her dignity with 
 her new Aunt. So, drawing Blanche's arm 
 \\ithin her own, she followed Sir Reginald and 
 his bride in silence. 
 
 But the spirit in which she had undertaken to 
 act the protectress towards her cousin on this 
 most important occasion, was not to be so easily 
 subdued. As they placed themselves at table 
 she affected surprise. 
 
 " Dear Blanche ! you have changed your place ! 
 Oh ! excuse me. How absurd of me, to be sure, 
 not to remember that you are no longer the head 
 of the establishment." 
 
 Blanche coloured. '' 1 am sure I was unfit 
 to be so, Georgina."
 
 128 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " I am much mistaken in Blanche/' said 
 Lady Estcourte, " if she will not thank me very 
 much for relieving her from this part of her 
 duties, at any rate. Is it not so, Blanche ?" 
 
 "Indeed you are not mistaken, Lady 
 Estcourte," quietly returned Blanche, who felt 
 that her father's eyes were fixed upon her. He 
 took up the conversation on her reply. 
 
 " Well ! confess, Blanche, that I have not been 
 very hard upon you, in putting to the test your 
 qualities of hostess. We have received but few 
 friends of late. And, by the way, young ladies, 
 have you nothing to tell us of our neighbours? 
 How have you been amusing yourself, Blanche ? 
 Has any one taken pity on your solitude ?" 
 
 " Lady Bouverie has been here," said Blanche, 
 " and some of the Butlers, and Mr. Vivian fre- 
 quently calls, and — " 
 
 " And Lord St. Ormonde," said Georgina, " if 
 I may guess by the number of his cards that 
 meet one at every turn." 
 
 Blanche did not speak. 
 
 " He is probably making interest just now 
 with his neighbours," said Sir Reginald, " as I 
 hear that he is foolish enough to intend bringing
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 129 
 
 forward a cousin of his to oppose Mainwaring at 
 the election." 
 
 " Foolish, Uncle ! why should you caU Lord 
 St. Ormonde foolish in bringing forward a candi- 
 date to represent his own principles and opinions ? 
 I think him quite right." 
 
 " Do you, Georgy ? I did not know you were 
 such a politician. St. Ormonde seems to have 
 made a successful canvass with you," rejoined 
 Sir Reginald, avec intention, 
 
 " Indeed, Lord St. Ormonde has never can- 
 vassed at all. Still I intend, on principle, to give 
 Captain Egerton my interest," said Georgina, 
 with considerable dignity. 
 
 A quiet smile played about Sir Reginald's lips. 
 And Blanche, suddenly raising her eyes to those 
 of her cousin, said, with some surprise : 
 
 " Oh ! Georgy ! is it Captain Egerton, then, 
 who is going to oppose Mr. — Mainwaring ?" 
 
 The last name came out faintly and hesita- 
 tingly — but Blanche was determined to pro- 
 nounce it. What was Ernest Mainwaring 
 henceforth to her ! Lady Estcourte gave one of 
 her quiet glances at Blanche's countenance. 
 
 "Why, I was telling you all about it this 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 morning ! have you forgotten already, dear ?" 
 said Georgina. "First I gave you the history 
 of Mr. Mainwaring's conquest of Lady Arnaadale, 
 and next of his probable defeat by Captain 
 Egerton." 
 
 " Both facts of very questionable authen- 
 ticity, I should think," remarked Sir Reginald. 
 
 " Oh ! I have it from the party himself in 
 the one case ; and, as to the other, all the world 
 believes it, and Lady Armadale's maid assured 
 Henriette that it was true." 
 
 " Really ! your authority is unexceptionable. 
 And so Captain Egerton actually told you himself 
 that he should win the election !" said Sir Reginald. 
 
 Georgina had a lurking fear of her uncle ; 
 as she could not hide from herself that there 
 was occasionally in his manner towards her a 
 certain dry irony, which checked her flippancy 
 more than the most studied retort. On this 
 occasion she was, however, determined to stand 
 her ground. 
 
 " Yes !" she said, in most emphatic style, 
 " we have had many conversations on the sub- 
 ject." But the colour would mount to her 
 cheeks, in spite of herself.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 131 
 
 Edith smiled. 
 
 " Do take one of these cutlets, Miss Bloom- 
 field. You are really dining upon nothing. And 
 1 think Blanche is following your example." 
 
 Sir Reginald glanced anxiously at Blanche, 
 then at her almost untouched plate, and called 
 to the servant to hand the wine. 
 
 " I believe, Lady Estcourte," said Georgina, 
 after acknowledging the offer of the cutlets, 
 " that I had the pleasure in town of frequently 
 meeting a friend of yours. You are acquainted 
 with Major Aubrey, I think ?" 
 
 Georgina looked fixedly at Lady Estcourte 
 as she said this. A deep glow passed over 
 Edith's cheeks and forehead, and her deep blue 
 eyes in an instant met her husband's. There 
 was that in his which immediately restored her 
 self-possession, and she rephed, unhesitatingly, 
 
 " Yes ! I have known Major Aubrey for 
 some years. Did he represent himself to you 
 as a friend of mine ?" 
 
 " Or had you it from Henriette ?" added Sir 
 Reginald. 
 
 Miss Bloomfield writhed under this last 
 insinuation ; and mentally resolved never again 
 
 K 2
 
 132 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 to mention her maid in her Uncle's hearing. 
 Appearing, however, not to have noticed his 
 question, she continued to address herself to 
 Lady Estcourte. 
 
 " Yes. He spoke as if he were, or had 
 been so, certainly. And, on that account, I 
 thought you would be glad to hear that his 
 regiment is ordered to Tilverton, close bye ; and 
 we shall all enjoy much of his society, no 
 doubt." 
 
 " Probably," said Edith. *' Dear Reginald, 
 I am wondering who is the original of the por- 
 trait which hangs at your back — so resembling 
 you — yet not you. I am sure it is a likeness, 
 be the subject who he may." 
 
 " Yes. It is poor Edw^ard, my brother, who 
 died in the Punjaub. I was telling you the 
 story of his widow the other day." 
 
 " Of her having embraced the Roman Catho- 
 lic faith. And she was his wife, then ! Did 
 you ever see her, Blanche !" 
 
 *' Oh, yes ! She was my godmother. And, 
 before my Uncle Edward w^ent to India, they 
 spent a great part of their tim.e here. But Papa 
 does not wish me to correspond with her now. '
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 133 
 
 " You said she had a son, I think ?" enquired 
 Edith, of her husband. 
 
 " She has — a very fine boy. But she is, of 
 course, bringing him up in her own persuasion. 
 And, in order to avoid all interference through 
 my right of guardianship, she has withdrawn 
 with him from England." 
 
 " Have you heard from my Aunt Emily 
 lately. Papa ?" said Blanche. 
 
 " No ; and I am ignorant of her address, 
 since she left Florence ; I am, therefore, unable 
 to announce to her the change in our fa- 
 mily." 
 
 During this conversation the dessert had 
 been placed upon the table ; and Flora, as her 
 manner was, and as is the manner of most 
 young ladies of her age, entered the room to 
 take her place with the party. As the door 
 was necessarily open for the servants to remove 
 the dinner, Edith observed that Mademoiselle 
 Rochard, when she had conducted her charge 
 to the dining-room, remained some time on the 
 outside arranging her cloak, as it appeared, for 
 an evening stroll. 
 
 " Come here, Flora !" said Lady Estcourte, 
 '^ I have prepared some strawberries for you,"
 
 134 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 The child, in defiance of the summons, turned 
 aside towards Sir Reginald. Receiving from 
 him no notice or encouragement, in look, word, 
 or manner, she resumed her course very slowly, 
 and apparently with great effort, towards the 
 head of the table. 
 
 '* Aunt Selina always lets me sit by Papa, 
 Lady Estcourte," said Flora, " and Aunt Seli- 
 na is very pretty, and very good, too — and so 
 does Aunt Emily." 
 
 A look by no means flattering to Lady Est- 
 courte, as compared with those two relatives, 
 accompanied this speech. 
 
 " You must not call me, Lady Estcourte, 
 my love. You must call me, Mam^ma," said 
 Edith, placing the fruit before the child. 
 
 " I cannot call you Mamma," said the little 
 girl, boldly. 
 
 " Yes, you can," returned Lady Estcourte, 
 perfectly unruffled. 
 
 Flora, astonished, looked up suddenly into the 
 face of her step-mother. She saw nothing to 
 encourage a hope of victory in a struggle, 
 though the expression was perfectly mild. 
 
 " Why can I ?" she said in a tone a little 
 less confident.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 135 
 
 " Because your Papa and I wish it, love. 
 And because it is right that you should obey us." 
 
 " Is Blanche to call you Manama, too ?" said 
 the child. 
 
 Lady Estcourte coloured a little. 
 
 " Blanche is grown up, and is able to judge 
 for herself of what is right, which you are not, 
 because you are a little girl. I trust, however," 
 and Lady Estcourte turned her eyes tenderly 
 upon Blanche, " that independently of other 
 considerations, it will not be long before your 
 sister gives me both that dear title and the 
 dearer feeling which should accompany it." 
 
 Blanche's eyes glistened as they met Lady 
 Estcourte's. And the compact was tacitly sealed. 
 
 Sir Reginald had watched the little scene in 
 silence, convinced that his interference would 
 tend to weaken, rather than to fortify, the 
 influence which his wife's strength of character 
 was fully equal to establishing. And it was 
 true that this first skirmish decided the contest ; 
 for Flora never again made an effort at direct 
 disobedience. Children measure their weapons 
 against those of their antagonists with unerring 
 precision. 
 
 The evening passed uninterestingly enough :
 
 136 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 for the party assembled had as yet but little 
 in common as one family, yet were all too lite- 
 rally at home to assume the task of entertaining 
 each other. Georgina retired with her after- 
 noon's novel into the recess of the turret cham- 
 ber. Blanche, at Lady Estcourte's request, 
 exhibited some of her drawings ; and Sir Regi- 
 nald took up the paper. x\nd so ended the 
 first day of Edith's residence at Charnwood 
 Priory. 
 
 What were her reflections that night, when, 
 after the dismissal of her maid, she reclined for 
 some time in her dressing-room, and recalled 
 the events of the day ? 
 
 She had encountered some discouragements, 
 several annoyances, even during the short time 
 which had elapsed since her arrival at the 
 Priory. And she saw that there was hostility 
 to be encountered, and misrepresentation to be 
 supplanted. But she was conscious of an inte- 
 grity of purpose which gave her courage and 
 firmness, for it was built upon the Rock of 
 Ages. And, strengthened by a Higher aid, 
 and cheered by her husband's precious love, she 
 felt that, let the trial be what it might, she 
 could live it out.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 13/ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Well, Blanche ! how do you like it all ?" 
 said Georgina, as she entered her cousin's room 
 on the following morning at an hour, for her, 
 unusually early, " I thought you would be 
 anxious to see me for a few minutes alone, as I 
 am going away after breakfast." 
 
 " Indeed ! but why do you leave so soon ?" 
 
 " Oh ! my dear child ! it is so intolerably 
 dull. I never could get through another day, 
 on the tack of last evening. I pity you 
 sincerely." 
 
 Blanche sighed. " I did not think it was so 
 dull." she said. 
 
 " Then, I suppose, Blanche, you admire this 
 very cool and, I should say, rather common- 
 place * Mamma/ who is about to decide every
 
 138 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 thing that is, or is not, to be, thought, said, or 
 done at Charnwood Priory," said Georgina. 
 
 " I admire her ; and long to love her," 
 returned Blanche. 
 
 " Oh ! you will be permitted to do both — at 
 an humble distance — no doubt," said Georgina, 
 laughing. " But seriously, Blanche, what can you 
 find to charm you so much in Lady Estcourte ? 
 She is not pretty." 
 
 " I think her so ; but her countenance has some- 
 thing in it beyond beauty — something so noble, 
 and kind, and ingenuous !" returned Blanche. 
 
 " So my Uncle thinks : for he seems to read 
 her every look. But upon my word, dear, I 
 cannot discover that she is at aU clever; and 
 she has little or no feeling." 
 
 " Are you sure you quite understand her ?" 
 said Blanche. 
 
 " I might retort the question, as our oppor- 
 tunities of judging have so far been equal. 
 What a very odd idea of yours, Blanche — that 
 I, who have met such numbers of distinguished 
 characters of every class, should not be able to 
 understand an ordinary person like Lady 
 Estcourte !"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 139 
 
 " Ordinary ! Georgie ! I think her so remark- 
 ably distinguished in appearance, manners — and 
 ' — in spite of what you say — in character !" 
 
 " That is because you have not been intro- 
 duced, dear ! at least, in the world, by which I 
 mean something beyond a country neighbour- 
 hood. Just contrast your model of distinction 
 with Lady Ai'madale (Mr. Mainwaring's Lady 
 Armadale, I mean), ^^e, indeed, is distinguee 
 — a perfect woman of the world." 
 
 "If so, 1 wonder that he — " Blanche 
 stopped and coloured. 
 
 " What do you mean, Blanche '?" said her 
 cousin. 
 
 " Nothins:. Onlv I once heard Mr. Main- 
 waring say to papa that it was the misfortune of 
 many men, in the conscientious performance of 
 their social duties, to be styled from their ^ 
 capability, men of the world ; but that the 
 appellation of a zcoman of the world was 
 generally a true one — not the consequence of 
 position — but of character. And then he said 
 more which con\dnced me it was not the 
 character he admired." 
 
 " Oh, my dear ! men never know their own
 
 140 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 minds. If they praise one thing, they are sure 
 to betake themselves to the exact reverse ; and 
 if they pay attention to one woman, you may 
 generally take it for granted they have made up 
 their minds to marry another." 
 
 Blanche's countenance fell. 
 
 " I believe you are right Georgie ; but I never 
 thought so till now." 
 
 Then after a pause she said : 
 
 " Do you think it possible, that Captain 
 Egerton is engaged elsewhere ?" 
 
 " Captain Egerton ! oh no ! he could not be 
 so very base, so very dishonourable !" said 
 Georgina, warmly. 
 
 " And yet he paid you great attention — and 
 
 has not sought an engagement with you — 
 
 therefore, I fear lest he should merit to be in- 
 
 ^ eluded in your rule. Oh ! dear Georgie ! take 
 
 care how you believe in any one !" 
 
 Georgina looked grave for a moment — then, 
 shakins: off the doubt, she resumed her usual 
 tone. 
 
 " How seriously you take things, Blanche ! 
 One would think you were a grandmother, 
 instead of a girl who has never yet even had a
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 141 
 
 flirtation ; of course, when I made that remark 
 I did not mean to include all men without 
 exception. When once you know Captain 
 Egerton, you will see that he is quite incapable 
 of deceiving." 
 
 *' I have thought so before — and been mis- 
 taken," said Blanche. 
 
 ** You ! dear ! — why — whom can you mean ? 
 You know I gave no encouragement to any one 
 w^hom you have known !" 
 
 " Oh, nothing — no one — only my absurd 
 fancy. Shall we go down to breakfast ?'' 
 
 " Certainly ; but your dress is yet only half 
 fastened, and you have forgotten your band ; 
 so I shall leave you to complete your toilet, 
 whilst T make a visit en passant to Flora, and 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 Georgina flew from the room, and passed 
 rapidly along the broad gallery, from which 
 issued various corridors leading to the sleeping 
 apartments. Down one of these she darted, 
 and suddenly opening a door, at the end of it, 
 seemed somewhat startled by what met her view 
 in the light and pleasant apartment which she 
 had thus invaded.
 
 142 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Mademoiselle Rochard was seated at a table, 
 ostensibly engaged in writing, and indeed there 
 lay before her a sheet of paper very nearly filled, 
 a second already folded and addressed. But her 
 attention was, at the moment of Georgina's 
 entrance, given to another object. With her 
 back to the door, and stooping down towards 
 Mademoiselle, in close and earnest colloquy, 
 stood a person who did not perceive Georgina's 
 intrusion, and who continued volubly to address 
 the governess in her native tongue. Georgina 
 thought she could distinguish through her vehe- 
 ment enunciation, the names of Major Aubrey 
 and of Captain Egerton ; and great was her 
 surprise, when, on advancing into the room with 
 sufficient noise to attract attention, the French- 
 woman, on turning, proved to be her own maid 
 Henriette. 
 
 Miss Bloomfield was not entitled to expect 
 in her maid a discretion and reserve, of which 
 she did not always set her the highest example. 
 Nevertheless, her cheeks crimsoned with indig- 
 nation as she became conscious, from what she 
 heard, that the communications which seemed 
 to be forming the common gossip of the depend-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 143 
 
 ents, were such, as by their nature, must include 
 her in their details. 
 
 '* You here ? Henriette ! I ordered you to 
 pack my things immediately." 
 
 Like the generality of people who admit their 
 dependents at times to undue famiharity, 
 Georgina was, when the fit took her, particularly 
 dictatorial. 
 
 " Ah — oui f Mademoiselle's things shall be 
 ready on the instant. I only brought this 
 charming sachet to shovv to Miss Flora." 
 
 And the abigail snatched from the table the 
 magnificently embroidered sachet, which was 
 one of Miss Bloomfield's recent purchases. 
 There was a kind of crackling sound, as it 
 yielded to the touch, very unhke the bending of 
 cambric and lawn. But Georgina recollected in 
 a moment, that in dressing one evening for the 
 Opera, she had, in her haste, thrust into her 
 sachet, a note from Major Aubrey, appointing 
 to meet her at a certain time, at the house of the 
 lady who was her chaperone, and to act as their 
 escort for that evening. It was not worth 
 stopping Henriette to take possession of this 
 unimportant note — and when afterwards, she
 
 144 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 looked into her sachet, it had been lost out of 
 it. Henriette took charge also of the letter 
 which lay upon the table, sealed and directed. 
 It was addressed to Mrs. Grant, as a casual 
 glance had told Georgina ; but since she herself 
 had conveyed a parcel from that lady to Made- 
 moiselle Rochard, what could be more natural 
 than that the governess should acknowledge it? 
 
 Adele hastily closed her writing-case, and 
 with one of her sweetest smiles, complimented 
 Georgina upon her appearance. " The town has 
 really improved your complexion. Mademoiselle ! 
 and your figure looks charming in that exqui- 
 site glacee. How much the beauty of a Monde 
 depends on her toilette !" 
 
 Georgina had a lurking consciousness that 
 she was not, in point of fact, a beauty ; though, 
 with the mental reservation that some people 
 might think her so. Charity required that she 
 should include Mademoiselle Rochard amongst 
 the latter class ; so, without any fruitless essay 
 to counteract such a delusion, she replied, very 
 graciously, 
 
 " Talking of beauty. Mademoiselle, what do 
 you think of Lady Estcourte ?"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 145 
 
 " Madame est tres-hien — a little too tall, and 
 she wants vivacity. Mais cependant, she has 
 fine hair and complexion, and very tolerable 
 presence.'' 
 
 " Oh — yes ! of course, all that. But do you 
 think with my cousin, that, on the whole, she is 
 lovely r 
 
 " C'est selon le gout, I do not find her very 
 beautiful, and she has not the tournure of 
 Mademoiselle !" 
 
 To be praised by a Frenchwoman on her 
 toilette, and complimented on her tournure, 
 w^as too much for Georgina's vanity. Without 
 having ever set foot on a foreign shore, she had 
 already adapted the role of looking " very 
 French !" and of assuming all that she could 
 attain, at second-hand, of foreign manners. 
 And this little conversation, as, perhaps, it was 
 intended to do, served to confirm, rather than to 
 diminish this w^eakness. Flora entered at this 
 moment, bearing in her arms an invalid dove, 
 to which she was about to apply remedies innu- 
 merable ; but something in her governess's face, 
 shewed her the intrusion was unwelcome, for 
 she said, 
 
 VOL. I. * L
 
 146 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Mr. Vivian told me I might bring it, Made- 
 moiselle." 
 
 " Mr. Vivian here l" exclaimed Georgina. 
 '' So early !" 
 
 Mademoiselle did not exclaim, nor look sur- 
 prised, but the reproachful expression left her 
 countenance, and she began to examine the 
 lame bird with interest, and apparent solici- 
 tude. 
 
 " I shall be late for prayers," said Georgina. 
 
 And suddenly turning away, she swept the 
 galleries with her rich glacee, as her swift step 
 sent it flying in folds right and left. The 
 governess and Flora followed more deliberately, 
 and entered the library, where the family w^ere 
 accustomed to assemble for morning prayer. 
 
 Georgina was not too late. Sir Reginald had 
 not, as yet, made his appearance. Soon he 
 entered, accompanied by Mr. Vivian, whom he 
 presented to Lady Estcourte. 
 
 " A friend, dear Edith ! — come just in time 
 to relieve me from the duties of chaplain this 
 morning." 
 
 Lady Estcourte was about to offer her hand 
 to a visitor who appeared to be on such intimate
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 14? 
 
 terms in her husband's house ; but, percei\ang 
 no sign of a corresponding movement on the 
 part of Mr. Vivian, she contented herself with 
 an expression of welcome. Attributing his 
 backwardness to a shy feehng towards a stran- 
 ger, she was about to add some remark ; but, 
 on raising her eyes to his countenance, she 
 met a glance fixed upon her own, so clear, so 
 calm, so impervious to scrutiny, yet so bent on 
 scrutinizing, that the colour mounted to her 
 cheeks : and she turned away with the con^^c- 
 tion that her good breeding would never be 
 taxed to sustain Mr. Vivian's self-possession. 
 
 He proceeded to exchange salutations with 
 the rest of the party. An averted glance ac- 
 companied his inquiries after Blanche's health. 
 A slight nod to Georgina — a deliberate " good 
 morning " to Mademoiselle — and to Flora, the 
 taking of her hand, and, leading her to the 
 table, where she remained by his side during 
 the time that he read the morning's prayer, 
 according to Sir Reginald's request. 
 
 ^Vhile thus employed, his countenance always 
 striking, grew more and more like the Raphael 
 — his voice and manner became almost un- 
 
 L 2
 
 148 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 earthly. A painter would have represented such 
 a face and expression with a glory round the 
 head. But it was the glory of a martyr. 
 
 Lady Estcourte was puzzled. And when, at 
 her courteous invitation, Mr. Vivian joined the 
 party at breakfast, she found herself still baffled 
 in all her attempts at turning the conversation 
 into channels which might elicit the character 
 and sentiments of her guest. To direct, not to 
 follow, appeared to be Mr. Vivian's forte in con- 
 versation : and the dry and uninterested man- 
 ner in which he reciprocated Lady Estcourte's 
 attempts at a discussion of the natural topics of 
 the day — as literature or public events — replying 
 merely by a question or an occasional assent — 
 threw the whole onus of making remarks upon 
 her — thus converting her efforts at drawing out 
 his character into a necessary development of 
 her own. 
 
 From the conversation of his hostess, he 
 turned, somewhat abruptly, though without 
 rudeness, to Georgina ; and enquired had she 
 heard that the county was about to be contested 
 by a cousin of Lord St. Ormonde's. 
 
 Th9 quick blush betrayed all Georgina wished
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 149 
 
 to conceal, and it was fortunate for the dignity on 
 which the heiress prided herself, that, attention 
 was diverted from her possible answer, to the post 
 bag, which was at that instant brought in. 
 
 There were letters for Edith — from a dear 
 home, now no longer her^s — and Sir Reginald 
 had his share — and there was a letter for 
 Blanche, too ! How her cheek paled and her 
 hands trembled as she opened it ! Was Mr. 
 Vivian's look at her one of intelligence ? Could 
 he know that hand across the table ? And had 
 not Lord St. Ormonde's alleged reason for 
 secrecy been, his fear that his chaplain should 
 exercise a coercion over him w4:iich he had 
 already began to feel as a restraint, and which he 
 instinctively knew w^ould be directed against 
 his engagement with Blanche. True, Lord St. 
 Ormonde w^as of age, and independent of con- 
 trol, as far as outward circumstances were con- 
 cerned. But Mr. Vivian had been his tutor, 
 and in his case the moral influence so generally 
 acquired by that gentleman, had been deepened 
 and strengthened by habit, and by a conviction 
 experimentally acquired, that whatever his chap- 
 lain willed to accomplish or to prevent, he had
 
 150 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 the strange power of compassing. Without 
 sufficient force of character to free himself 
 openly from an influence which he half-dreaded, 
 half-courted, the young nobleman had lately 
 followed the dictates of his own feelings in 
 several instances, which he had carefully con- 
 cealed from his friend. 
 
 Amongst these was his invitation to his 
 cousin, Clarence Egerton, to become his guest 
 and representative at the approaching contest. 
 For though Mr. Vivian had originated the 
 idea of bringing forward an opposing candidate, 
 he had selected a different individual. When, 
 however, Lord St. Ormonde announced to his 
 Chaplain, Captain Egerton's compliance with 
 his proposal, Mr. Vivian's manner produced on 
 his mind the impression that by some means 
 he had known it all along. 
 
 But his engagement with Blanche, was a 
 still more overt act of defiance of the strong 
 will which ruled him ; and Lord St. Ormonde 
 believed himself secure of her only as long as 
 the secret remained their own. His letter 
 reiterated in the strongest terms his entreaties 
 that she would keep her too hastily given pro-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 151 
 
 mise of concealment. Blanche slowly refolded 
 the paper — little moved, alas ! by the emotion 
 with which a newly mdide fiancee should receive 
 the first few lines of devotion and love traced 
 by the hand so lately pledged to hers. 
 
 She was roused, by the offer of some 
 coffee — into hearing her father exclaim, 
 
 " We shall have visitors, Edith, next week ! 
 Here is a letter from Sir Perceval Grant, 
 announcing his intention of spending a few 
 days with us on his way to the north." 
 
 " Does he come alone ?" enquired Lady 
 Estcourte. 
 
 *' No, I think not — let me see ! No — he 
 mentions that a daughter-in-law of his — though 
 I never knew^ Sir Perceval had a son — a Mrs. 
 Grant, is to accompany him. Vivian ! you are 
 taking r^othing — try these kidneys. You look 
 as pale as if you had been watching the stars 
 out, instead of breathing the fresh morning 
 air. Yes, Mrs. Grant is to be your guest, 
 Edith." 
 
 " I shall be very glad to see her. But, I 
 conclude, as you were not aware of her existence, 
 nor of her husband's, that Sir Perceval is not
 
 15*2 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 included amongst your chosen and select band 
 of intimates." 
 
 " Oh, no ! merely an acquaintance. I met 
 him some time since — on a visit — and he is 
 kind enough to remember me. You will find 
 him agreeable and anecdotical." 
 
 *'And he gives delightful parties," added 
 Georgina, energetically. " I think him charm- 
 ing ; but that odious Mrs. Grant is a damper 
 to everything. Why should he bring her 
 here?" 
 
 " Simply because she is his inmate and his 
 daughter, I should conclude," replied Sir 
 Reginald. " Is she a widow ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! Did you never hear the story of 
 her atrocious husband? and his desertion of 
 her ? and his turning Papist ? and her being 
 nobody at all ?" enquired Georgina. 
 
 "That circumstance, which comes the last 
 in your description, stood first, I presume, in 
 order of events," said Sir Reginald, smiling at 
 Miss Bloomfield's arrangement of her story — 
 " for, at present, if I understand you right, she is 
 Mr. Grant's wife. What has become of him ?" 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Uncle, nobody knows what
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 153 
 
 has happened to that vilest of his species. He 
 broke his father's heart, you know ; and turned 
 his wife out of doors ; and I dare say he is 
 meditating in some cell of some dark monastery 
 what enormity he shall perpetrate next." 
 
 " Charity might suggest," interposed Mr. 
 Vivian, in a tone so grave as to approach to 
 sternness, " that in sacrificing a father's affection 
 and a wife's society, the gentleman of whom 
 you speak must have been actuated by principles 
 which, if they do not conciliate our approbation, 
 must still command our respect." 
 
 " Or perhaps excite our pity," rejoined Lady 
 Estcourte. 
 
 Georgina had felt rebuked by the tone of 
 piety and Christian charity w^hich pervaded 
 Mr. Vivian's remark. Accustomed to his 
 infallibility, she was surprised to hear from her 
 Aunt the first attempt ever made in her presence 
 to dissent from any opinion or maxim by him 
 expressed. Perhaps the novelty of the case 
 surprised him too — for a singular, but quickly 
 mastered expression, like a spasm, crossed his 
 features. There was a pause for a few minutes. 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Grant ! how miserable she must
 
 154 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 be," said Blanche, at length, with a sigh. " I 
 feel sure I shall like her." 
 
 Edith looked at her step-daughter with a 
 snaile. Sir Reginald said, gaily, 
 
 " Well, Lancey ! then, to gain your affections, it 
 appears we must all be miserable. But, perhaps, 
 you except old friends from this test, and only 
 require new ones to pass through the ordeal." 
 
 Blanche thought her father was sporting with 
 her feelings, or did not understand her. Per- 
 haps something of this appeared on her coun- 
 tenance, for he added, 
 
 " At any rate, I hope my little girl greets a 
 sorrowful heart, on the principle of liking a 
 contrast to her own." 
 
 *' Oh ! yes. Papa," said Blanche, touched by 
 this speech, and feeling that silence would be 
 remarkable. But there was something so unreal, 
 so hollow in her manner of uttering the words, 
 that Sir Reginald would rather she had remained 
 silent. 
 
 " I have many acknowledgments to make to 
 you, Vivian," he said, turning to the other side 
 of the table, ** on Flora's account. Really, the 
 progress she makes in Latin, under your kind
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 155 
 
 tuition, is remarkable. She tells me she is 
 reading Csesar." 
 
 " Some of the easier parts — not the Com- 
 mentaries," said the clergyman, with a smile ; 
 " but I hope to introduce her to other, and 
 more profitable authors, presently. All thanks 
 to me are needless ; for these little studies are 
 amongst my pleasantest recreations." 
 
 " You are very good to say so : and I am too 
 sensible of the advantages of a moderate know- 
 ledge of Latin, even in female education, not to 
 avail myself joyfully of your penchant in the 
 way of recreation. I confess, that to myself, 
 far from being a pleasure, teaching is the se- 
 verest task." 
 
 Mr. Vivian made no reply ; but that almost 
 painful smile crossed his countenance, which 
 spoke volumes of inclinations chastened, of 
 hopes renounced — of the severe discipline of 
 self, which admitted no recreation, save in duty. 
 Lady Escourte saw, and read the look, and her 
 kindly nature was aroused. 
 
 *' You are fatigued with your early walk this 
 morning," she said, " and since you persist in 
 taking no breakfast, you must allow me to beg
 
 156 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 a holiday for Flora, to-day, and to advise you 
 to rest until luncheon. I am afraid you are 
 feeling much exhausted — is there any thing we 
 can do for you ?" 
 
 The attention of all was called to Mr. Vivian's 
 countenance, which did, indeed, at that moment, 
 exhibit more than its usual degree of pallor, and 
 wanness. He hastily placed his hand to his 
 side, rose from the table, and saying that the 
 fresh air would restore him, he stepped out 
 upon the lawn. No one followed him, for it 
 was evidently his wish to avoid observation, and 
 he took the direction of the beech-walk. There, 
 one of the gardeners remarked that, for some 
 time he paced the avenue, his hands occasion- 
 ally clasped together, occasionally strained upon 
 his side, as if in severe mental and bodily 
 conflict. There was a struggle for composure — 
 a painfully enforced calmness, at length — but 
 Flora's lesson was not neglected. 
 
 Miss Bloomfield took her departure after 
 breakfast: and Blanche, willing to make some 
 atonement, where she felt she had been defec- 
 tive, asked Lady Estcourte, should she be her 
 cicerone, in a view of the park and gardens.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 157 
 
 Edith had longed to be introduced by her 
 husband to all the interests of his home. But 
 she called to mind the rule of action she had 
 laid down for herself, which was to sacrifice all 
 personal objects, not absolutely essential, in 
 consideration of the claims and feelings of those 
 whose happiness was committed to her charge; 
 and she thought that it was better to begin at 
 once. So, wnth a ready compliance she thanked 
 her step-daughter, and, drawing her arm within 
 her own, was rewarded by the cheered expres- 
 sion which lighted Blanche's countenance. 
 
 During their walk, the sadness which had 
 seemed habitual since their arrival, entirely dis- 
 appeared from the young girl's tone and manner : 
 and, for a while forgetting her reserve in the 
 interest w^hich she saw she excited in Lady 
 Estcourte, Blanche became the light-hearted, 
 confiding child, which Lady Emily's death had 
 left her. Edith was invited successively to 
 admire the fountain, " made according to a 
 sketch of poor Mamma's" — to lament that the 
 flower-garden, " was not so exquisite as it used 
 to be when Papa and Mamma took so much 
 interest in it," to notice the araucaria and the
 
 158 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 beech planted by her parents respectively at the 
 bh'th of their eldest child — to accept a sprig 
 from Lady Emily's cherished myrtle — and, in 
 short, to go through gardens, conservatories, 
 hermitage, and grotto, as their mistress, accom- 
 panied by the young girl who read in every object 
 some remembrance of her predecessor ; and who 
 for the first time was £ible to pour out the over- 
 flowings of her heart to one whose sympathy 
 banished her reserve — forgetting that that 
 newly-found friend was her father's wife. 
 
 Lady Estcourte was not sorry that it should 
 be so. The very forgetfulness proved Blanche's 
 o-rowino; confidence, and innocence of all 
 suspicion that the subject could be an annoying 
 one ; and, in consequence, it really was not so. 
 So she encouraged her step-daughter to speak 
 of all that had been m.ost dear to her; and 
 Blanche found herself talking with an eagerness 
 and interest which would have been incredible to 
 herself twenty -four hours before. 
 
 " You will visit the dairy ?" enquired she. 
 
 Lady Estcourte gave her assent, and they 
 passed through a gate giving on an avenue 
 which led to the spot in question. This dairy,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 159 
 
 which was built in the Swiss form, surrounded 
 by beds of roses, had been an object of especial 
 interest with Lady Emily; and the dairy- maid, 
 a robust, hearty, countrywoman, had been much 
 attached to her mistress, and was disposed to 
 look upon the new possessor of her dignities 
 and honours with less complacency than the 
 more politic or less prejudiced servants at the 
 hall. 
 
 " Good morning, Margaret !" said Blanche, 
 on entering. " Lady Estcourte has come to pay 
 you a visit." 
 
 " Very glad to see you, Miss Blanche ! 
 Your servant, my Lady !" (The last words were 
 uttered in a resigned tone). The dairy-maid's 
 knees relaxed in the slightest degree from the 
 perpendicular, and she crossed her hands over 
 her apron strings, and stood, the victim of un- 
 merited persecution, before her visitors. 
 
 " How pretty this place is !" said Lady 
 Estcourte, entering the porch. " You must 
 show me the interior of the dairy, if you please, 
 Margaret." 
 
 " My poor Lady that was, used to be partial 
 to it, ma'am," said the dairy-maid, plaintively,
 
 160 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 as she led the way into the dairy de facto, 
 " Miss Blanche, you mind your poor Mamnma's 
 cup. No one has had that to their lips since 
 she was took away 1" 
 
 Margaret pointed to a pretty Dresden coffee- 
 cup, formerly used hy Lady Emily when inclined 
 to test the virtues of the respective milk-pans ; 
 and she hoped she had fully succeeded in 
 securing that, at any rate, from Lady Estcourte's 
 predatory incursions. 
 
 Edith and Blanche looked at each other. A 
 dimness had come over Blanche's eyes, and a 
 shade over Edith's countenance. Blanche 
 perceived instantly on the lips of another, 
 the error she had herself heen committing, 
 though in a different spirit. She walked up 
 to the shelf, took down the cup, and requested 
 Margaret to fill it with milk. 
 
 " Aye, sure. Miss Blanche ! you shall have 
 some out of this pan. It's Cowslip's milk. It 
 handn't ought to be nobody but you as should 
 drink out of that cup." 
 
 " I am not going to drink out of it, Mar- 
 garet." 
 
 " Oh, then, you'll be taking a drop o' new
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 161 
 
 milk for Miss Flora, poor thing ! She was here 
 yesterday, for Miss Mamzel said she should 
 come to see her poor mother's favourite place 
 once more." 
 
 " Once more !" said Blanche, with surprise. 
 " What do you mean, Margaret ? I hope 
 Flora will come constantly. Why should she 
 not ?" 
 
 " I can't say. Miss. Folks as was wiser 
 nor me seemed to be afraid as there'd be 
 changes," said the woman, glancing at Edith. 
 
 Blanche saw the state of the case. She 
 recalled Flora's prejudices against Lady Est- 
 courte, instilled, as she herself could not help 
 sometimes thinking, by Mademoiselle. And 
 the influence had been at work here too ! 
 Strange that so gracious a nature as her new 
 step-mother's should already have so many 
 enemies ! Georgina — Henriette — Mademoiselle 
 — Flora — even honest Margaret — to say nothing 
 of Lady Bouverie, who made it a rule to speak 
 as if she were the enemy of every one. Even in 
 Mr. Vivian's manner, the good, the charitable, 
 the holy, there was something which implied 
 less cordiality than even Mr. Vivian's manner 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 usually did. Blanche looked at Lady Est- 
 courte. She was musing too, and, as Blanche 
 thought, rather mournfully. Smitten with a 
 quick sense of injustice, she followed the im- 
 pulse of her feelings, and advanced towards her 
 father's wife. 
 
 " Dear Mamma !" she said, " will you taste 
 the produce of our dairy ?" 
 
 Mamma ! it was the first time Blanche had 
 bestowed this endearing epithet on her step- 
 mother. The dairy-maid stood petrified with 
 astonishment, hardly believing her eyes and 
 ears. Lady Estcourte started, coloured, and 
 throwing her arms round Blanche, fondly kissed 
 her. 
 
 " Oh ! Blanche, Blanche ! bless you for those 
 words 1 Cleopatra's pearl is within that cup. 
 Give it to me, dearest." 
 
 Lady Estcourte drank some of the milk, 
 then, returning the cup to the bewildered 
 dairy-maid, she said : 
 
 "Thank you, Margaret: your Cowslip's milk 
 does her great credit. Now show me your 
 cheese, for Miss Estcourte says you make
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 163 
 
 With a manner entirely changed, Margaret 
 led the way to the cheese department, where she 
 plunged into the mysteries of vats and presses, 
 of new and old milk cheeses, and of the pounds 
 of butter sent daily to " the Hall," together 
 with infinite other varieties of dairy gossip. 
 Perceiving that Lady Estcourte encouraged and 
 understood her, Margaret came to the opinion 
 which she afterwards expressed emphatically to 
 the w^oman at the lodge, that " my Lady 
 w^as very free and haifable like," (though Lady 
 Estcourte had scarcely opened her lips) " and 
 seems to take kindly to our young lady — and 
 no wonder, poor lamb ! And what's more, 
 d'ye know? — She's a very good notion how 
 many meals should go to one of them big 
 cheeses." 
 
 One thing Lady Estcourte knew — and she 
 had learned it from a Higher source than a Ches- 
 terfield or a Rochefoucault — that in encouraging 
 the interest of others in their own legitimate 
 and natural callings, she so far fortified the good 
 and weakened the evil in the heart of each. 
 Nothing so chases away hard thoughts and 
 sinister reflections from the mind, as an honest 
 
 M 2
 
 164 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 and earnest purpose, proportioned to the 
 capabilities and suited to the position of the 
 individual. Make people happy ! give them an 
 object ! and you take the first step towards 
 making them good. For each created being 
 has an object in life, could he but discover it. 
 Something to do or to suffer. Passion and 
 self-love frequently obscure our mental vision, 
 and cause us to mistake the Creator's object for 
 ourselves. But, in the case of others, we are 
 rarely thus blinded. And to direct, to encou- 
 rage, to cheer on, all within our influence, in the 
 course indicated by Providence as theirs, 
 whether it point to the destinies of an empire, 
 or to the economy of a cabin — not forgetting that 
 
 *' They also seiTe who only stand and wait," 
 
 is the Christian's duty, and the stateman's 
 policy. 
 
 From that day forwards, Margaret turned a 
 deaf ear to Mademoiselle's vaguely hinted fears 
 of Lady Estcourte. 
 
 She was an honest woman at heart: and 
 though Edith never preached to her, and 
 limited her conversation to subjects connected
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 165 
 
 with her own employments, Margaret felt that her 
 lady's good opinion was worth gaining, and only 
 to be gained by a simple fulfilment of her duty. 
 
 As Lady Estcourte and Blanche returned to 
 the house, they saw at a distance the governess 
 and Flora, with whom was Mr. Vivian. He sepa- 
 rated from his companions, however, and advanced 
 in the direction of the ladies, the little girl and 
 Mademoiselle taking an opposite path. Edith 
 was surprised at the sudden change which took 
 place in Blanche's manner. From a frank, and 
 even Hvely, conversation, she suddenly relapsed 
 into the timid and nervous silence which Lady 
 Estcourte had hoped to be dissipated for ever 
 by their intercourse of that morning. But she 
 now saw that something still remained unex- 
 plained, though Blanche's reserve arose from a 
 cause evidently not connected with herself. She 
 said quietly, 
 
 " Mr. Vivian is not, I think, the Rector of 
 Charnwood ?" 
 
 ** Oh no !" said Blanche, " he is, you know, 
 chaplain to Lord — to Lord St. Ormonde." 
 
 " Has he, then, long been intimate with 
 you ?" enquired Lady Estcourte.
 
 166 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 *' Not SO very long. He. was a great friend 
 of Aunt Emily's ; and she wished Papa to be 
 very kind to him." 
 
 *' And he had not sufficient influence to 
 prevent your poor Aunt from yielding to the 
 delusions of Popery ?" said Edith. 
 
 " No one had — it was impossible to move 
 her. Yet he tried every means, and they were 
 constantly in conference on the subject. It 
 was very odd ; for I never knew him fail in 
 anything else.'^ 
 
 Blanche sighed in conclusion, and Lady 
 Estcourte looked into her face. But she saw 
 there no pleasure, no triumph in Mr. Vivian's 
 superiority, just asserted. Only an expression 
 of anxiety and perplexity. 
 
 " You have told me nothing of your cousin 
 Edward ! Does he enter into his mother's 
 views, or is he still too much of a boy to reflect 
 at all," she said. 
 
 " Edward is about sixteen, and a fine, noble 
 fellow. Papa was always very fond of him, 
 and he wished, you know, to educate him to be 
 our clergyman at Charnwood, but — " 
 
 Blanche's communication was cut short by
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 167 
 
 the near approach of Mr. Vivian, whose 
 presence seemed to operate as a spell upon her 
 powers of speech. Lady Estcourte felt the 
 awkwardness of this abrupt termination, and 
 addressed the Clergyman. 
 
 " We were speaking of Mrs. Estcourte and 
 her son," she said, " and Blanche describes her 
 cousin as very promising." 
 
 " A mere boy !" replied Mr. Vivian " quite 
 unformed." 
 
 " Perhaps that is in his favour," rejoined 
 Lady Estcourte. " May we not hope to save 
 him yet from his mother's errors ?" 
 
 " He is, I believe, under her guardianship," 
 answered the Clergyman, in that impassive 
 tone in which he always replied to Lady 
 Estcourte ; and which conveys, as you like to 
 take it, deference to, or contempt of, the party 
 addressed. 
 
 To Lady Estcourte's ears it sounded like the 
 latter. But, determined to overcome the evil 
 with good, she said, " It is indeed to be 
 regretted. But I cannot allow you to say 
 good morning, as I see you are prepared to do, 
 until after luncheon."
 
 168 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 *'I am on my way to Greystone," was the 
 reply. 
 
 " You shall resume it in an hour, if you 
 please," said she, " but first, make the amende 
 for having eaten no breakfast." 
 
 And, for once in his Hfe, Mr. Vivian turned 
 from his course at Lady Estcourte's bidding.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 169 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 The party were seated in the drawing-room. 
 Sir Reginald was leaning over his wife's chair 
 devouring a passage in the book she held in 
 her hand, to which she had called his attention. 
 Blanche had retreated to the turret chamber, 
 where she, at least, appeared to be drawing. 
 And Mr. Vivian, who had risen apparently to 
 take his leave, was standing, in deep abstraction, 
 close to the chair on which he had been seated. 
 The door opened — and the servant announced 
 Mr. Mainwaring. 
 
 Vivian started from his reverie — Sir Reginald 
 uttered an expression of pleasure, and advanced 
 with eagerness to shake hands with his visitor.
 
 170 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Main waring ! How well 
 you look ! You know Vivian, I think — Lady 
 Estcourte !" 
 
 Ernest Mainwaring and Lady Estcourte 
 perused each other for an instant — but an 
 instant — then simultaneously they held out 
 their hands, which were shaken on both sides, 
 cordially. 
 
 *' I am very happy in making Lady Est- 
 courte's acquaintance/' said Ernest, in that rich, 
 manly voice which reveals so much of character. 
 And in the bow and smile which acknowledged 
 his remark, he also read a volume. 
 
 " How are you, Vivian ?'* he said, turning 
 to the Clergyman, his eyes at the same time 
 wandering round the room as if in search of 
 something. 
 
 Lady Estcourte saw the movement. 
 " Blanche T' she said, raising her voice so as to 
 be heard in the recess, " your Papa wants your 
 opinion of this sketch of Flora." 
 
 It was impossible for Blanche any longer to 
 remain concealed. Trembling throughout her 
 frame so that her steps seemed to herself 
 quite unsteady, she advanced into the larger
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 171 
 
 apartment. She was as white as the snowy 
 muslin about her throat. 
 
 Ernest hastily walked forward to meet her 
 with his frank, glad smile ; took her hand, and 
 was beginning to speak, but on feeling its cold 
 and trembling touch, suddenly became silent. 
 Neither uttered a word. Blanche sank into the 
 nearest chair. 
 
 It was a great relief that, at this moment, 
 Mr. Vivian recollected that the walk to Grey- 
 stone was so lono^ that he must wish Sir 
 Reginald good morning. 
 
 And Ernest Mainwaring was soon engaged 
 in an animated conversation with Lady Est- 
 courte, upon the merits of the book she was 
 reading. Edith objected to some traits in the 
 female characters as unnatural, and the whole 
 description evidently written by a man. Ernest 
 thouo^ht them at least verv charmino:, but 
 considered that the respective heroes very little 
 merited their good luck. Edith thought the 
 author very indifferent to creed. Ernest re- 
 minded her that the aim of the book was the 
 representation of a period and state of society — ^ 
 not an exposition of the author's opinions.
 
 172 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Edith shook her head, and expressed her belief 
 that every description of every period must take 
 its colour from the author's mind and princi- 
 ples ; since two writers, telling the same tale, 
 but viewing identical facts through a different 
 medium, would leave quite opposite impressions 
 on the reader's mind. Ernest conceded this. 
 
 " And to any but an universal sceptic," he 
 said, " a book must be more acceptable which 
 conveys the impression that an honest conviction 
 exists in the mind of the writer on the subject 
 on which he treats, whether that conviction 
 be our own or not — than one, which professing 
 strict impartiality, leaves the apparent result of 
 the author's researches to be — that truth is no 
 where to be found. I respect honest pre- 
 judices." 
 
 *'Take care how you say that on the 
 hustings next month, my good friend !" said 
 Sir Reginald, with piquancy. 
 
 Ernest smiled. " I understand you, Mr. 
 Mainwaring," said Lady Estcourte, " and I 
 agree with you that in this age of enlightenment, 
 an honest prejudice has in it something poetical 
 and venerable. It is like an ancient landmark
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 173 
 
 which for ages has saved multitudes from going 
 astray ; and though briars and weeds may have 
 overgrown it, which need removing, or the 
 changes of time may have superseded its use 
 and necessity, it still remains, an interesting 
 record of the past, and a basis on which to 
 ground the allotments of the future; But there 
 are some subjects surely which should be treated 
 with strict impartiality — history, for instance." 
 
 " As to facts, certainly. I would have every 
 authority given without reserve or mutilation, 
 and no circumstance omitted which could influ- 
 ence the conclusions of the reader on either 
 side of a disputed question. But this alone 
 would be but annals. It has been well said 
 that ' the impartiality of history is not that of a 
 mirror, which merely reflects objects ; it should 
 be that of a judge, who sees, listens, and 
 decides.' A book, like a state, should have a 
 conscience. And if the historian, in summing 
 up his arguments, attempts to influence the 
 judgment of his readers according to his own 
 earnest conviction of right and wrong, is this a 
 blameable prejudice ?" 
 
 " I should rather call it a conscientious
 
 174 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 opinion," said Edith, "because the result of 
 knowledge. We are accustomed to associate 
 prejudice with ignorance." 
 
 " We are. But what are all opinions but 
 prejudices, founded with more or less reason, 
 at an earlier or later period of our lives — gene- 
 rally, the former ? How few have either the 
 time or the ability to examine controverted 
 questions for themselves ! How much fewer, 
 even of those who have, bring to the examination 
 a mind totally unprejudiced — that is to say, 
 totally uninfluenced by habit, circumstances, 
 early association, or feeling — or all these ! To 
 say that we are entirely unprejudiced, is to say 
 that we have neither thought nor felt up to the 
 present hour." 
 
 " According to you, then, Mr. Mainwaring," 
 said Edith, laughing, " an impartial writer 
 must spring up from the earth, like Minerva 
 from Jupiter's brain, ready armed, as far as 
 judgment and maturity of intellect are concern- 
 ed, but never having heard one word of the 
 concerns of our globe until he set foot upon it." 
 
 " Yes, strictly speaking, your stranger genius 
 would be the only unprejudiced person. I
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 176 
 
 would rather, though, that he came down to the 
 earth, than sprang up from it, in order that his 
 previous habits might induce him to look upon 
 things from above, rather than from beneath — 
 which I take to be the great distinction between 
 two orders of thinkers. But let that pass. 
 I hope I have convinced you. Lady Estcourte, 
 that all the world adopts a prejudice, sooner or 
 later ; and that wath the generaUty of mankind 
 the only way to save them from the evil is to 
 lose no means of instilling into them the good." 
 
 Lady Estcourte smiled at his earnestness, and 
 thought of — her dairy maid. " Practically I 
 know you are right," she said, " though perhaps 
 I have recognised your principles under different 
 names." And she took up her embroidery, 
 which lay on the table. 
 
 Sir Reginald had been listening in quiet 
 amusement to the difference between masculine 
 and feminine criticisms, and modes of viewing a 
 subject. Gradually his eyes had settled upon 
 Blanche, and he remarked, for the first time, her 
 ashy paleness. That it could be in any way 
 connected with Mainwaring's visit never occurred 
 to him, he having been as blind to her emotion
 
 176 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 at meeting him as fathers in general are, and 
 as mothers, in general, are not. He could, 
 therefore, only connect her evident indisposition 
 with her reserve and melancholy of the previous 
 evening — a melancholy he had not yet seen 
 dissipated since his return home, though, had he 
 been the companion of her morning's walk with 
 Edith, he would have beheld the glowing cheek 
 and sparkhng eye he longed to see once again. 
 As it was, however, he naturally connected 
 Blanche's despondency with his own marriage, 
 and the reception of her step-mother. So he 
 forbore to utter the expressions of anxious and 
 tender affection which hung upon his lips. 
 
 And Blanche ! — what was she thinking as 
 she sat there, mute and tremulous, her hands 
 clasped tightly together — her ears sensitively 
 ahve to every word which was uttered ? She 
 was thinking — "What do men call principle? 
 — what truth ? — what feeling ? He talks of 
 truth ! Is there truth in shewing love for one, 
 when he is engaged to another? — Is there 
 feeling in trifling with mine ? Are those 
 * earnest convictions of right and wrong' to have 
 no influence over actions like these? Are
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 177 
 
 honour and conscience, on such things, to he 
 mere empty words ? Yet, alas ! what have / 
 done—?" 
 
 Just at this moment, Ernest Mainwaring 
 turned quickly round, and, with a suddenly 
 heightened colour, asked Blanche : 
 
 " Have you read this book, Miss Estcourte ?" 
 
 " I ? no— I think not. What is it ?" 
 
 If Blanche had been pale hitherto, she was 
 so no longer. Brow, face, and neck were 
 suffused with crimson. But it was only for a 
 few moments ; and then her delicate complexion 
 reappeared yet whiter than before. Ernest 
 mentioned the name of the book. 
 
 " No, no !" said Sir Reginald, " Blanche has 
 not seen it. We brought it with us to read 
 en route.'' 
 
 " Do you not think, Reginald," rejoined 
 his wife, maliciously, " that there exists a bare 
 possibility that other copies besides our own 
 may be found in the world ?" 
 
 Sir Reginald laughed his little low, amused 
 laugh, and turned to his daughter. 
 
 " You must answer for yourself, Blanche, 
 you see ; for your — for my wife — will not 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 allow me to take the subject out of your 
 hands." 
 
 Blanche had recovered her self-command, 
 for which Lady Estcourte's httle diversion 
 had been purposely made to give her time. 
 She answered her father quite calmly ; but her 
 voice was dead and spiritless. 
 
 " I have not seen it before, Papa. It is in 
 the society ; but I have been too much — 
 engaged — to read it." 
 
 " Perhaps you have been occupied in draw- 
 ing," said Mainwaring. 
 
 " Not — so very much," was the reply. 
 
 " May I see what you are doing at present ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing at all." 
 
 " Well, then, what you finished last." 
 
 " I did not finish it ;" and the colour played 
 a^ain about the cheeks and brow. 
 
 Lady Estcourte rose, went to the turret 
 chamber, and returned with Blanche's portfolio. 
 
 " Here is a head of St. Cecilia which I must 
 show to you, Mr. Mainwaring. It is, I think, 
 exquisite." 
 
 Ernest bent over the drawing. 
 
 " Oh, I see. It is from the Guido at Grey-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 179 
 
 stone. Lord St. Ormonde must have lent you 
 this," he said : and his blight, dark eyes, were 
 fixed on Blanche's countenance. 
 
 " Yes ; at least Mr. Vivian borrowed it for 
 me," she replied, quite unmoved. But a deeper 
 thoughtfulness came over her as she remembered 
 how she had accepted the eagerly proffered 
 loan of that picture, innocent and ignorant of 
 the feelings which prompted the young noble- 
 man to urge it upon her ; and how laughingly 
 she had received the compliment, when he had 
 told her that the beautiful, heavenly countenance 
 bore some resemblance to her own. She 
 remembered, too, Mr. Vivian's very different 
 style of commenting upon the subject of the 
 picture, when he brought it to her, though 
 still in the way of comparison with herself. 
 Lord St. Ormonde had, in fact, only wished that 
 she should be occupied with something be- 
 longing to him. !Mr. Vivian, perhaps, hoped 
 she might learn a deeper lesson, even from the 
 picture. She had delineated it faithfully," and 
 every delicate shade of the original appeared on 
 the copy ; the pure, sweet, unearthly expression 
 pervading aU. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 There was certainly a likeness to Blanche; 
 more particularly at the present moment, when 
 the suffering of repressed feeling gave to her 
 whole air and expression something unnatural 
 to her — something more akin to the martyr 
 than to the bright, child-like girl she had been 
 when she drew it. 
 
 Blanche, too, was quickly verging into the 
 woman. The last few weeks had done the work of 
 years at her heart ; and the transformation passed, 
 as it ever does, into the countenance. Each 
 change had brought her nearer to the picture. 
 
 Perhaps some such thoughts as these 
 passed through the mind of Ernest Mainwaring 
 as he sate, his head leaning upon his hands, 
 silently contemplating the head. His mo- 
 mentary suspicion of Lord St. Ormonde had 
 vanished almost as soon as formed ; for not the 
 most jealous lover could have desired a colder 
 or more indifferent tone than that in which 
 Blanche had answered his question regarding 
 him. But there still remained a misgiving, an 
 uneasiness for which he could not account to 
 himself. And, forgetting that it w^ould have 
 been but courteous to make some remark to
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 181 
 
 Lady Estcourte, who had taken the trouble to 
 exhibit the drawing to him, and who was really 
 rather disappointed at his expressing no admi- 
 ration of it, he said, suddenly, to Blanche. 
 
 " You were engaged, I think, some time ago, 
 upon a beautiful white moss-rose. I do not 
 see it here." x\nd he rapidly turned over the 
 drawings in the same compartment of the 
 portfolio. 
 
 " It is not finished," said Blanche, in a tone 
 which she meant should be very composed. 
 
 " Oh ! that is not finished, is it ?" 
 
 ''■ No." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 Lady Estcourte looked from the one to the 
 other. Sir Reginald joined the group. 
 
 " I like my little girl's roses very much," he 
 said, laying his hand on Blanche's shoulder; 
 " but, considering the number there are here, it 
 is very hard you should take her to task for the 
 one that is missing. And with your artistical 
 eye, Mainwaring, I should really have thought 
 you would prefer this head, which is a very fair 
 copy of a very good painting, to any of Lancey's 
 simple flowers."
 
 182 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Sir Reginald said this with such perfect 
 naivete^ it recalled Mainwaring to himself. 
 
 " I admire it exceedingly ; is it possible not 
 to do so ? It is, indeed, a most beautiful and 
 highly-finished picture ; and the style of colouring 
 is perfectly attained ; so much so, that I could 
 hardly distinguish it from the original." 
 
 Ernest's panegyric sounded rather different 
 from his usual tone of speaking. There was 
 more of effort, and less of frankness. 
 
 " The first glance convinced me of that," 
 remarked Lady Estcourte ; " though I have not 
 seen the original. But, I am quite astonished 
 that you have no other remark to offer ; and 
 you too, Reginald." 
 
 *' 1 1 Both of us ! What can we say ? You 
 are too exigeante, Edith. We must save some of 
 our eulogies for the pendant — when it comes." 
 
 " And you really see no likeness in this 
 picture ?" 
 
 *' Likeness ! — c'est une autre chose — " and 
 Sir Reginald regarded it attentively. " It is like 
 some one certainly. I should say it might be 
 Blanche herself, only she is a child, and this is 
 a woman. Do you see it, Mainwaring ?"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 183 
 
 " Not the least in the world," replied the 
 young man. 
 
 Sir Reginald had spoken the truth. So long 
 accustomed to consider his daughter a mere 
 child, he had not noted the gradual ripening of 
 face and form, of which the result was suffi- 
 ciently obvious to his wife, who now saw her for 
 the first time. He, therefore, considered it 
 unreasonable to compare her to the St. 
 CeciUa. But did Ernest speak the truth ? 
 Alas ! for our hero ! — but we never said he was 
 faultless. Struck at the first glance with the 
 likeness — somewhat, though very unreasonably, 
 offended that Blanche should have copied Lord 
 St. Ormonde's picture — really, and perhaps, 
 more rationally, hurt that she had neglected to 
 fulfil a promise made to him ; — above all, indig- 
 nant that Lord St. Ormonde should have 
 hanging constantly before his eyes, a speaking 
 likeness of Blanche — Ernest had been labour- 
 ing to convince himself that the resemblance 
 was a mere delusion. Of course it was ! The 
 eyes were deeper set, the nose more aquiline, 
 the forehead lower, it was nonsense to think of 
 such a thing at all. And he was prepared to
 
 184 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 counteract any such impression by positive 
 assertion to the contrary. Lady Estcourte's 
 observation, accordingly, furnished him with an 
 opportunity for his first essay in attempting to 
 prove the fact, that the said picture could not, 
 and should not be like Blanche. 
 
 " By the bye, when do you expect your 
 sister ?" said Sir Reginald. 
 
 " Next week, 1 believe. I am going to meet 
 her at Dover, unless — " 
 
 " Mrs. and the Miss Butlers !" announced 
 the oracular voice of the servant, as he flung the 
 door wide open, and admitted three ladies. 
 
 There are many ways of entering a room : 
 and a practised observer can detect character in 
 this mere introductory movement. There is 
 the stately and the familiar, the boisterous and 
 the shy, the studied entree and the well-bred, 
 easy air of self-forgetfulness — and many more. 
 
 Mrs. Butler and her daughters exemplified 
 several of these varieties. With Miss Louisa 
 Butler the reader is already acquainted : and, as 
 she entered last, her demeanour was less obvious 
 than that of her mother and sister. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was a comfortable looking
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 185 
 
 woman, on rather a large scale, both as to 
 height and breadth ; very well dressed, but 
 looking as if she were hardly on the terms of 
 familiarity with her fine clothes, necessary to 
 their perfect adaptation. Her face was not 
 unpleasing, though the features were a little 
 coarse, with piercing dark eyes, and an 
 expression which denoted ineffable satisfaction 
 with all she contemplated, herself included. 
 Having nothing better to do with her hands, she 
 flapped her parasol gently against her dress with 
 one of them, as she walked up the room in the 
 sailing style : the other maintained a very firm 
 grasp upon a most elaborately embroidered and 
 laced pocket handkerchief. She looked so 
 contented, so approving, so certain that her 
 arrival had been the very thing Lady Estcourte 
 had been wishing and waiting for, that nobody 
 would have had the heart, if they had possessed 
 the power, to undeceive her. 
 
 Mrs. Butler was one of those persons with 
 whom the application of the little pronoun 
 " m?/" has the power of a Midas' touch. To 
 suppose that her house, her husband, her 
 children, or her arrangements, were in the
 
 186 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 minutest degree capable of improvement, was to 
 write yourself mad in her eyes- She was 
 always talking about them, not exactly praising 
 them, for she considered them far above any 
 praise of hers ; but detailing their achievements, 
 pursuits, and intentions, as being naturally the 
 most interesting subject to her hearers. Mrs. 
 Butler was not, however, a selfish woman, far 
 from it. She had sympathy ready for every 
 body, and active assistance too. And, what was 
 more remarkable, she always knew your case by 
 intuition. She could account for every thing. 
 You might fancy before talking to Mrs. Butler, 
 that you had some little idea what your feel- 
 ings, or symptoms, had been at any given 
 period — but you quickly found that she had 
 been ahead of you all along ; and that what you 
 had considered to be a tooth-ache she had always 
 known to be chronic rheumatism. To argue 
 the case was useless. She was never angry, 
 but shook her head indulgently at your delusion 
 till she made you so. Other people occasionally 
 throw out conjectures — Mrs. Butler never stated 
 any thing but positive facts. And, as she had 
 enormous ideality,' and defective memory, her
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 187 
 
 facts, or assertions often diametrically contra- 
 dicted each other within an incredibly short 
 space of time. As for her anecdotes, which 
 were numerous, you never could recognize in 
 them yourself or your friends, until you knew 
 Mrs Butler. 
 
 Her eldest daughter, who walked, or rather 
 marched, into the room after her, losing 
 nothing of a more than ordinary height from 
 the want of upright carriage, produced a less 
 favourable impression than her mother, inas- 
 much as an artificial manner pleases us less 
 than a natural one — partly, perhaps, because it 
 insults our discernment — and Miss Butler's was 
 certainly an artificial manner. Dressed, as was 
 her sister (for they made a principle of never 
 differing even to the colour of their gloves), in 
 the most outre style of fashion, they still had 
 not that peculiar gift, to which various circum- 
 stances contribute, of wearing their things 
 fashionably. Taste, good society, an artistical 
 eye for form and colour, habits of elegance in 
 the toilet, perfect ease, and the habit of consider- 
 ing the dress made to shew off the wearer, not 
 the wearer the dress — each and all go to this. 
 The Miss Butlers were furnished from Carson
 
 188 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 and Alexandrine — every bow was rightly adjust- 
 ed — every ruche correctly placed. They might 
 have been models for a Belle Assemblee — they 
 w^ere not what they longed, and indeed believed 
 themselves, to be — distinguished and fashionable 
 young ladies. 
 
 Miss Butler drew herself up as she passed 
 the threshhold, and looked down from her 
 height upon the party whom she was honouring 
 with a visit. She had a long, thin face, with a 
 brown complexion, and bands of black hair, 
 which grew low upon her forehead. Some 
 people called her stylish, and her family 
 considered her intellectual, and in justice it 
 must be conceded that she did her best to merit 
 both epithets. She had written a tale, entitled 
 " Euphemia — or Mind" which had puzzled all 
 the readers of a certain periodical; and from 
 that time forward she held herself entitled to 
 take her place amongst the literary pretendans 
 of the day. To say that she had not yet 
 succeeded in doing so, is only to repeat the old 
 adage as to unrewarded merit. Having the 
 reputation of intellect, she willingly yielded the 
 palm of beauty to her sister, of whom she 
 vras constantly expressing admiration. Some
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 189 
 
 persons, however, preferred her style to that of 
 Miss Louisa, whom we have already described. 
 Between the two there seemed to be an alliance, 
 offensive and defensive ; and though they were 
 occasionally shocked at some little homeliness 
 of their mother's, they were beautiful models of 
 sisterly affection towards each other. 
 
 " How do ? Sir Reginald ! How do ? Lady 
 Estcourte ! Quite w^ell, I hope ?" said Mrs* 
 Butler, as, without waiting for any introduction, 
 she held out her pocket-handkerchief hand to 
 Edith, nodding familiarly to Sir Reginald. 
 
 " My daughters — Bell and Louy." (The young 
 ladies made a stiff bow which said as distinctly 
 as words " at least we know^ our position — you 
 have probably heard of us — now you see us !") 
 " Ah Blanche !" continued their mother, " are 
 you there too ? this hot weather don't suit you, I 
 see. You should give her tonics. Lady Estcourte. 
 Here are the girls come to see you — but you 
 will have your own talk, I suppose, and will 
 not want me. How do, Mr. Mainwaring ? can- 
 vassing already ? Mr. Butler and my son 
 Augustus are ready for you, I promise you: 
 — and Arthur says you shall be Member for 
 the County, if he has any interest. My boy
 
 190 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Arthur;" (to Lady Estcourte,) " was named after 
 the poor Duke, you know : and he said to me the 
 other day ' Mother !' he said, ' I've christened 
 my horse, Copenhagen.' (Arthur has the most 
 beautiful hunter in the county.) — ' Odd, is'nt it ?' 
 he said, ' that my name should be Arthur, and 
 my horse's name Copenhagen ?' ' Yes, my 
 dear,' I said, ' but those things will happen 
 sometimes. You were born on the Duke of 
 Wellington's birthday, you know." 
 
 " Here is a chair. Miss Butler," said Sir Regi- 
 nald, who remarked that the young ladies, having 
 exchanged greetings with the company present, 
 during their mother's oration, appeared to wait, 
 in awful stateliness, an invitation to be seated. 
 Ernest provided similarly for Miss Louisa, who 
 immediately took posession of himself, in addition. 
 
 " Bella is looking a little pale to-day," said 
 Mrs. Butler ; " she has been over- studying 
 herself, I believe. I intend to get her to the 
 sea-side before long." 
 
 " You are fond of reading ?" asked Lady 
 Estcourte of the young lady referred to. 
 
 " Literature is the atmosphere in which I 
 breathe," returned Miss Butler. 
 
 " Ah !" said Sir Reginald, coming to his
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 191 
 
 wife's assistance, " in that case, I fear the sea air 
 will be lost upon you. But what have been the 
 subjects of these studies of which Mrs. Butler 
 complains ?" 
 
 " Various works — chiefly scientific." 
 
 " And what is your opinion of table turning ?" 
 
 *' I consider it decidedly the effect of electricity 
 and magnetism." 
 
 This w-as utteied in a tone which left nothing 
 further to be said upon the question. 
 
 "Really!" said Sir Reginald. "Then you 
 discard all idea of supernatural agency ?" 
 
 " T despise superstition as the greatest proof 
 of ignorance," enunciated Miss Butler. 
 
 " Well, my dear Bell !" interposed her mother, 
 " you know Louy always says she is sure there's 
 a ghost in the table ; and, though you say it 
 is all eccentricity, you may take my v;ord for 
 it, there's a httle of both. Mr. Butler says 
 he don't, for his part, see the wit of a set of 
 people sitting round a table, and twirling it 
 round, and then plaguing other folks to know 
 why it don't stand still. Let them leave it 
 alone, and it will stand still." 
 
 " True," said Sir Reginald, gravely.
 
 192 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Lady Estcourte, Blanche, and Ernest Main- 
 waring took advantage of the implied wit of Mr. 
 Butler's remark to indulge in a laugh, no longer 
 repressible. Quickly recovering herself, Edith 
 enquired of Miss Butler, had she read the book 
 already spoken of, which she and Ernest had 
 been discussing, and which lay by her on the table. 
 
 Miss Butler glanced at the cover. " No — I 
 have not. I rarely peruse novels." 
 
 " It is certainly called a novel," returned 
 Edith. " But if depth of thought, brilliancy 
 of description, broad outlines and delicate 
 touches of character — a knowledge of men, 
 countries, and things almost universal — with a 
 tendency towards religious and moral good 
 throughout — can giv^e a book a title to be 
 read, I know not on what ground this can be 
 rejected." 
 
 '* It is making a great noise in the world," 
 said Ernest. " You really must read it, Miss 
 Butler." 
 
 " Since you recommend it so much, I will 
 endeavour to find time for the perusal. But 
 what is the style of the work, and who is the 
 author ?"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. Ir93 
 
 " The book is anonymous, and the author- 
 ship, as yet, not even surmised. And for the 
 style, I can only describe it by telling you that 
 it is the author's own style, and no one else's. 
 His rare learning, and vast amount of in- 
 formation he shares with others, but his style 
 he could neither acquire nor impart. It is his 
 idiosyncracy. The Lamp of Genius hung 
 afresh, so that old objects come out in new 
 lights as seen by it — the modulations of a Lind 
 upon an ancient melody — in fact, whatever you 
 can think of the most original, and the most 
 familiar." 
 
 " How charming !" lisped Miss Louisa. 
 " No wonder it is the fashion." 
 
 " I must endeavour to ascertain who is the 
 author," rejoined the fair Isabella, emphatically, 
 quite satisfied at finding herself engaged in a 
 literary conversation with Ernest. " Pray, Mr. 
 Mainwaring, have you read Burke on the 
 Subhme and Beautiful ?" 
 
 Ernest looked down for an instant ; and there 
 was a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth. 
 
 " I — yes — I rather think I did look into it 
 some time ago. Very clever indeed." 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 ** I always call Isabella, the Sublime," in- 
 terposed Louisa. 
 
 " And — par consequence — " 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Mainwaring, you are quizzing. 
 You know you are. I never thought of such a 
 thing, I am sure," and the fair Louisa coloured 
 and looked down. 
 
 " Excuse me, if I drew a wrong inference — 
 but it was so warranted by facts, you know. 
 When did you leave town ?" 
 
 **0h! not till I was obliged, you may be 
 sure. And then I cried all the way down. 
 Dear London!" and the young lady sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 " Oh ! by the bye, now I recollect the last 
 time I saw you was in the park — riding, I 
 think, with Major Aubrey ?" 
 
 *' Alas ! yes," answered Louisa, in a tone of 
 deep sentiment. Then, with a sudden change 
 of manner, she added, 
 
 "Major Aubrey is a friend of yours, I think, 
 Lady Estcourte. He told me a great deal about 
 you." 
 
 This iil-brcd address did not shake Edith's 
 self-possession, excepting that her colour became,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 195 
 
 perhaps, a shade deeper. Ernest reddened, for 
 he remembered the conversation, and knew all 
 that Miss Louisa's speech was intended to imply. 
 With the unerring instinct of a gentleman, he 
 turned the shaft aside. 
 
 " No wonder he should be proud to claim 
 Lady Estcourte's acquaintance. I am afraid 
 she would find her list of friends rather 
 inconveniently large, if she permitted as many 
 of us to call ourselves so, as might aspire to 
 that honour. And this reminds me that I have 
 already trespassed too long upon her indulgence 
 this morning, and must take my leave." 
 
 And in the Httle stir and diversion consequent 
 upon Ernest's departure, Major Aubrey was 
 quite forgotten. 
 
 How was it that Lady Estcourte intuitively 
 felt that such had been his design ? She had 
 never seen Ernest before that day, was not 
 aware that he had ever heard her name, still 
 less that he had known it in conjunction with 
 that of Major Aubrey. Yet, in little more than 
 an hour they had read each other's characters — 
 could guess each other's motives — could form 
 a tolerably accurate conjecture as to the course 
 
 o 2
 
 196 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 of action either would pursue, under any given 
 circumstances — in a word, could depend upon 
 each other. Why was this ? 
 
 Chiefly it w^as, because on the brow of both 
 was written in legible letters that golden word 
 " Truth ;" — a word visible, indeed, to all, but 
 only read in its full distinctness by him who 
 bears its counterpart. It is one of the curses 
 of falsehood, in its every degree, that it cannot 
 yield a full behef to the existence of its 
 opposite — and, accustomed to the alloy, ever 
 suspects the genuine coin a counterfeit. But 
 to him who has the bright image inscribed on 
 the heart, there is no mistaking the outward 
 stamp. It beams from the eyes — it sounds in 
 the voice — it sits upon the brow — it brings 
 trust and confidence, and an indefinable kind 
 of joy. 
 
 But this was not the only reason why 
 Lady Estcourte and Ernest Mainwaring 
 so quickly understood each other. Sir 
 Reginald w^as truth itself, yet it may be ques- 
 tioned whether his wife perfectly comprehended 
 him. Perhaps she would not have loved him 
 so devotedly if she had, for a little illusion
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 197 
 
 ever mixes with love ; and a woman, especially, 
 delights to imagine unfathomed depths of 
 wisdom and goodness in the man to whom she 
 looks up. Blanche, too, like her father, was the 
 very personification of truth, yet even he never 
 understood her; and during this morning her 
 emotions had been a paradox to all who sur- 
 rounded her — so vivid and so evident, yet so 
 puzzling as to their cause. 
 
 The fact is, that some characters require a 
 second to bring them out — others appear at 
 once in their own individuality. Sir Reginald 
 was manly, talented, and capable of great things ; 
 yet he was silent, laconic, and generally unappre- 
 ciated. His sensibility was so delicate, that it 
 shunned contact with the common air; and, 
 unless it could expand and blossom in the warm 
 atmosphere of affection, it took refuge under 
 the cold shelter of reserve. In the generous and 
 unselfish nature of Edith, he found precisely 
 what was necessary to him. With her the 
 judgment and feelings were more nicely balanced, 
 and she was seldom quite uninfluenced by either 
 the one or the other. This gave a strength to 
 her character, of which she was herself quite
 
 198 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 unconscious, but of which she recognised the 
 counterpart in Ernest Mainwaring. 
 
 From the beginning of their acquaintance, Sir 
 Reginald had felt himself peculiarly and advanta- 
 geously drawn out in his intercourse with Edith. 
 Her habits of forgetting herself — of studying 
 the characters of those around her — that re- 
 markable tact, the tact of a refined mind, by 
 which she avoided every subject which could 
 wound or embarrass those with whom she spoke 
 — her womanly manner of expressing great 
 thoughts — all these had led him to repose upon 
 her character in a way which, to an unusual 
 degree, developed his own. And she revered 
 his feelings, prized his heart, could understand 
 him when a speech was half uttered, could 
 even read his silence — knew exactly when and 
 where to appeal to him — caught in a moment 
 the veiled irony which many lost ; — and, in short, 
 Sir Reginald felt supremely — what all who knew 
 Lady Estcourte felt in some degree — that she 
 had the rare faculty of eliciting whatever was 
 good, or great, or lovely, in every character with 
 which she came in contact. 
 
 But to return to the party whom, like Ernest
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 199 
 
 Mainwaring, we left in the drawing-room at the 
 Priory. Scarcely had that gentleman left the 
 room, when Mrs. Butler exclaimed : 
 
 " Dear me ! I never congratulated Mr. Main- 
 waring on the wedding that is to be. He went 
 off so suddenly, somehow, that it put it out of 
 my head. I hope he will not feel hurt, poor 
 young man ! I always say to Mr. Butler, ' he is 
 a very promising young man, is that young 
 Mainwaring :' and I assure you Augustus thinks 
 him quite a good fellow. We shall have a 
 wonderful stir, I expect, when he brings down 
 his fashionable Countess." 
 
 Sir Reginald's lips and eyes gave tokens of 
 certain saucy comments, but they proceeded no 
 further. Edith listened for Blanche's breath- 
 ing, for she dared not look at her. She said, 
 quietly : 
 
 " J dare say Mr. Mainwaring would be glad 
 to be spared congratulations, particularly if the 
 engagement is not actually concluded." 
 
 " Is it possible. Lady Estcourte," exclaimed 
 Miss Butler, "that you can doubt it for a 
 moment ?" 
 
 " Oh ! it has been in all the papers," vocifer-
 
 200 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 ated Louisa, almost simultaneously. " And we 
 can tell vou all about it, for we know her — 
 charming creature !" 
 
 " The marriage is to take place, I believe, 
 immediately after the election," continued their 
 mother, with the air with which the first Minis- 
 ter of the Crown might decide a dispute about 
 the Treasury. Satisfied with the dignity of her 
 announcement, Mrs. Butler settled her bonnet 
 strings, and said no more. 
 
 Lady Estcourte smiled, and said : 
 
 ''Really." 
 
 She did not express doubt, because she was 
 afraid of exciting hopes in Blanche's mind which 
 might, after all, prove illusory. Totally unable 
 as she had been to account for the excess of 
 Blanche's emotion on meeting Ernest, she had 
 seen sufficient to convince her that on neither 
 side was there indifi'erence ; and it now occurred 
 to her that Mainwaring's reported engagement 
 might possibly have been the cause of Blanche's 
 manner. She determined to make it her busi- 
 ness to ascertain the truth. And she did not 
 express conviction, because the asseverations of 
 the Butler party had still left a doubt with
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 201 
 
 herself, of which she wished to give Blanche 
 the benefit. 
 
 But this little innocent word " really," seemed 
 to give great offence to the young ladies, who, 
 perhaps, detected the slight incredulity of the 
 tone. So they revenged themselves, as they 
 thought, by dilating on the charms of the 
 Countess — upon the fact of her being " a posi- 
 tive idol," in London — upon the certainty that 
 nothing equal to her had ever yet appeared in their 
 neighbourhood — an especial cut at Lady Est- 
 courte — and upon the hope that she would im- 
 prove the society when she came to Alringham. 
 Having, as they supposed, wound up Edith's jea- 
 lousy to the highest pitch, they rose to depart. 
 
 Whilst Mrs. Butler was intensely occupied in 
 informing Sir Reginald how she must not keep 
 her horses standing, because one of them, which 
 had cost Mr. Butler one hundred and twenty 
 pounds, had a cough — and how the said horse 
 had taken a mash that morning, made of beans 
 and oats, which she could assure Sir Reginald 
 was the best sort of mash for a cough, the 
 young ladies approached Blanche, whom they 
 had hardly noticed before, but who now appeared
 
 202 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 to be the object of their deepest commiseration ; 
 and whom they accosted in the tone which two 
 dames (Thonneur of the Aulian Court might 
 have assumed in addressing Iphigenia. 
 
 " Farewell ! poor dear V' said Isabella. 
 
 " Sweet one ! we are so sorry to leave you," 
 said Louisa. 
 
 "You are very kind," answered Blanche, 
 astonished, and looking as if she expected some 
 explanation. 
 
 " Believe me, we feel for you deeply," said 
 the elder. 
 
 " And, love, you look so pale," said the 
 younger. 
 
 " Feel for me ! — pale I" thought Blanche, 
 " Surely they cannot know — " No — a moment's 
 reflection convinced her that the condolence of 
 her visitors pointed at her supposed calamity in 
 receiving her step-mother. The nobleness of 
 Blanche's nature rose, and gave her courage. 
 It was not before such characters that her firm- 
 ness yielded. 
 
 "I am a little fatigued with my walk this 
 morning," she said, *' but if you think that I 
 am unhappy — I mean, if you do not congratu-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 203 
 
 late, instead of pitying me, upon the change 
 here, you are quite mistaken in my feelings." 
 
 And the pure minded girl thought that if 
 they had known all, they might indeed have 
 pitied her. Pitied ! — they would have thought 
 her the most fortunate, happy, enviable indi- 
 \'idual that ever breathed ! Pity the fiancee of 
 an Earl ! Pity the future possessor of Grey- 
 stone ! Absurd ! In all the complicated phrase- 
 ology which the Miss Butlers sometimes used, 
 they could not find words to express such ideas. 
 
 The party vanished, with looks of cold 
 disdain on the countenances of the young 
 ladies, and of ineffable contentment on that of 
 their mother, who went on telling Sir Reginald 
 aU the way down stairs, how many eggs she had 
 had per week from her Cochin China fowls. 
 She had just finished counting her chickens as 
 she reached the last step of the carriage, and 
 was proceeding to give her attentive auditor 
 all the benefit of her experience on Cochin 
 China diet, when the carriage door was closed 
 with that portentous clang which coachmen and 
 horses so well understand — and the driver, less 
 polite than Sir Reginald, cut short his mistress's 
 oration just at boiled potatoes.
 
 204 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It was time to prepare the letters for the post. 
 Sir Reginald betook himself to the library, and 
 Blanche flew to her own apartment. Edith's 
 correspondence, though deeply interesting to 
 those for whom it was intended, would perhaps 
 be less so to our readers, since it conveyed much 
 already known to them, to the fond and anxious 
 parents whom she had left. We shall therefore 
 betake ourselves to Blanche's chamber, and 
 watch her sitting at her writing table in deep 
 and painful thought — taking sheet after sheet 
 of paper and commencing her task — shaking 
 her head as she read it over, and tearing it 
 into fragments — getting flushed and weary — 
 and compelling herself at length to continue one 
 of her attempts until it assumed the following 
 form.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 205 
 
 " Dear Lord St. Ormonde, 
 
 " You have done me the greatest 
 honour that man can do to woman, and I am 
 about to repay you in a way which must seem 
 to you ungrateful and unkind. But better now 
 than later. Only forgive me for the pain I 
 cause. I told you, St. Ormonde, when first 
 you spoke to me on this (to me) sad subject, 
 that I did not love you ; circumstances, which 
 have occurred since we met, have convinced me 
 more decidedly than ever that I never can do so. 
 You say you have my promise. Not my pro- 
 mise, St. Ormonde — I never could have uttered 
 that — but perhaps my silence, and apparent 
 acquiescence, gave you the right to assume it. 
 If so, oh ! release me from that implied 
 engagement ! It was in a feeling of despair 
 from which I soon awoke, that I yielded to what 
 you told me, and my own bhndness believed, 
 was my destiny. I do not seek to excuse my- 
 self — all I ask of you is to forgive, and to forget, 
 that hour. This secret crushes me. In pity 
 for me — in pity for yourself, release me ! You 
 would not wish for a wife whose heart was not 
 yours. You would weary of me, St. Ormonde,
 
 206 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 very soon. There are so many that would love 
 you. Believe how sincerely I desire your happi- 
 ness ! Once again, forgive me ! and be assured 
 that, though not your wife, I shall never be 
 
 another's. 
 
 "Blanche Estcourte." 
 
 "Chamwood Priory, July — , ]85— ." 
 
 Again and again did poor Blanche peruse 
 this letter. She erased, she added. Sometimes 
 she thought it hard and unfeeling, and remem- 
 bered Lord St. Ormonde's delicate and excitable 
 temperament: — sometimes she feared she had 
 still left a corner for hope, and then a more 
 decided word appeared upon her paper. At 
 last it was folded, and only waited to be sealed. 
 The gong sounded, and she found that the post 
 bad gone out. She was too late for that day. 
 
 But even if she had not been, how to convey 
 her letter to the post ! This difficulty had not 
 occurred to her. To send it in the Priory letter- 
 bag was a virtual proclaiming of their secret. 
 To trust to a servant to carry it to the village 
 — her high sense of honour and rectitude could 
 not stoop to that. In her moments of utmost
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 207 
 
 solitude, Blanche had never adopted the re- 
 source of so many young ladies, and made a 
 confidante and companion of her maid. She 
 was easily, too easily, led by those to whom she 
 looked up. But with her inferiors, except by 
 acts of kindness and courtesy, she was reserved 
 and shy — totally unaffected by flattery, and 
 inaccessible to influence. Her extreme refine- 
 ment armed her against the one, and her depen- 
 dent disposition itself rendered her impervious 
 to the other. She wanted protection from her 
 idols. They must be powerful, strong, unfailing 
 in her sight — able to guide her. It was curious 
 how this disposition extended itself to all her 
 favourites, animate and inanimate. Her greatest 
 pet was the huge St. Bernard dog. Bayard, who 
 had, on the other hand attached himself singu- 
 larly to her. He was the companion of her 
 walks — he lay across the threshold of her cham- 
 ber at nights, and crouched at her feet by day. 
 The gentle girl felt a security in the power of 
 her mute favourite. Next in favour to Bayard 
 was Ariel, her horse : and those who knew little 
 of Blanche's character, except her timidity, were 
 often surprised at seeing the perfect confidence
 
 208 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 with which she mounted and guided him, the 
 complete understanding which appeared to be 
 established between them, and the complacency 
 with which she received his rude caresses when dis- 
 mounted, Blanche's shoulder being the frequent 
 repository for Ariel's nose as he followed her 
 across the park or field. 
 
 Flora petted kittens, birds, chickens. Like 
 most children, she loved power. She delighted 
 in the smallest of flowers, the weakest of sap- 
 lings, for she could bend them. Blanche loved 
 ihe strong, thorny rose ; the rich, minaretted 
 hollyoak, the sheltering, venerable oak. 
 
 With the poor, Blanche was, as we have said, 
 rather shy. It was not from want of sympathy, 
 but from fear of intrusion. Afraid of taking 
 a liberty, by inquiring too much, she did in- 
 justice alike to her own feehngs of interest, 
 and to theirs of confidence, and her diffi- 
 dence was liable to be mistaken for pride. 
 Her many deeds of charity and kindness, 
 however, won her the esteem of the village, 
 and if she was not thoroughly understood, 
 the case was the same on both sides. 
 
 Such a character was not likely to seek an ally
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 209 
 
 in an emergency like the present, amongst her de- 
 pendents. She soon came to the resolution that 
 her only mode of conveying her . letter to the 
 post would be to carry it there herself. But 
 when ? Not that day, certainly, for her absence 
 in the evening would be remarked. It must 
 be the next morning, very early — so early that 
 she should have returned before the time of 
 prayers. She placed the letter in her dressing 
 case, intending to read it once again that night, 
 and turned the key, but in her haste, did not 
 take it out. And then she joined the party at 
 dinner, more cheerful, and with a mind relieved 
 by the afternoon's labours. 
 
 On reaching her apartment in the evening, she 
 met Mile. Rochard at the door, coming from it. 
 
 " Ah ! mon Dieu /" said the Frenchwoman, 
 who always took refuge in her mother tongue 
 when thrown off her guard, " Je vous cherchais," 
 Bayard gave a subdued growl. 
 
 " Well, Mademoiselle !" 
 
 " Oh ! it is that la petite desires to read a 
 little story which you have there in your 
 bibliotheque. Will you do her the grace to 
 lend it?" 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Certainly. Which is it ?" 
 
 " I do not know. I have forgotten the title. 
 C'est precisement ce que je cherchais" 
 
 Blanche advanced towards her book-case, 
 which was filled with a choice collection of 
 the best authors, poetry and history predo- 
 minating. She opened the door of it, saying, 
 
 " You will perhaps be able to recognize 
 the title if you see it here." 
 
 Suddenly she turned — there was a little 
 noise at the other end of the room, where 
 stood her toilet. It was the clinking of the 
 keys against the dressing-case. 
 
 Bayard was very busy sniffing amongst the 
 torn papers which lay upon the hearth — then 
 he went to the toilet — thence to Adele — thence 
 back again to the fragments. Blanche thought 
 they looked much more neatly piled than when 
 she, in her hurry, had flung them there. 
 
 " Have you found it. Mademoiselle ?" she said. 
 
 '' Ahl oui. C'est celui ci,'' and the governess 
 drew from the book-case a volume of Prescott'^ 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, which, from its title, 
 she took to be an amusing tale, and held it up 
 to Blanche.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 211 
 
 " What a very odd choice for Flora !" remark- 
 ed her sister. 
 
 " Ah I oui /" and Mademoiselle gave a signifi- 
 cant shrug. " Cette petite — elle aime toujours 
 lire les hetises" 
 
 " Betises ! Ferdinand and Isabella !" exclaim- 
 ed Blanche. The governess perceived she had 
 made a mistake ; but she was accustomed 
 to dogmatise, so persisted in her confident 
 tone, as the best mode of extricating herself. 
 
 " Tons les romans sont des hetises, Mademoi- 
 selle Aistcourte, a mon avis /" she said, sharply 
 and severely. She now stood her ground firmly, 
 considering that this very comprehensive and 
 moral maxim must have met every difficulty of 
 the case. 
 
 " But you know," said Blanche, modestly, for 
 she was ashamed to expose her companion's 
 ignorance, " Ferdinand and Isabella is not 
 a novel." 
 
 The governess burst into a noisy fit of 
 laughter. " Oh ! la naive enfant /" she exclaim- 
 ed, " comme si je ne savais pas que c'etait une 
 drame — et de votre Shaks — quelque chose." 
 And whether under Mademoiselle's skilful 
 
 p 2
 
 212 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 handling, the book in question might afterwards 
 have become an epic poem, a treatise, or a 
 homily, can never now be ascertained — as she 
 rushed from the room laughing, just as Miss 
 Estcourte's maid was entering it, bearing away 
 the volume in her hands. And in her heart 
 she carried an additional motive for malevolence 
 to the many she had already conceived against 
 Blanche, in the consciousness that she must 
 have degraded herself in her eyes. 
 
 Blanche was astonished. To hear her fa- 
 vourite book called a hetise — a novel — and a 
 drama had surprised her a little. And if, she 
 thought, that perhaps a Frenchwoman's ignorance 
 of English literature might be palliated, though 
 it certainly told against her competency to the 
 education of an English girl — yet the subject 
 of the book in question was one of world-wide 
 notoriety, and its title sufficiently proclaimed it 
 to foreign as well as to English ears. Blanche 
 had, however, on previous occasions, felt some 
 misgivings as to Mademoiselle Adele's qualifica- 
 tions for the office of teacher^ whatever she 
 might possess to those of ruler. 
 
 But why should she seek a story which she
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 213 
 
 said Flora had described to her, and take a 
 history ? — had Flora mentioned a book at all ? 
 She would ask her. 
 
 Then Blanche's attention was recalled to the 
 subject of the keys, rattling against the dressing- 
 case, and of Bayard's uneasiness, and awakened 
 scent. She became nervous and apprehensive. 
 After reading and seahng her letter, she lay 
 down to rest : but her sleep was so broken that, 
 when, at an early hour in the morning she arose 
 for her walk, she was jaded and worn, and in 
 no spirits to accomplish the task which lay 
 before her. 
 
 She set out. Whenever we would do a 
 thing a little out of the common way, especially 
 if with a purpose of concealment, it is astonishing 
 how observation will obtrude itself upon us — 
 how obstacles 2z;z7Z force themselves into our path. 
 
 " Surely," thought Blanche, " I am doing 
 nothing so very extraordinary in taking an early 
 walk in the grounds if I like it. Every day I 
 do the same thing at a different hour. Yet 
 every one seems so surprised ! If I were in- 
 different to observation, they would probably 
 take no notice."
 
 214 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Blanche reasoned wrongly. If she had had 
 no object in sallying forth, but the enjoyment of 
 the fresh morning air, her maid would have 
 looked equally aghast at her early summons ; 
 one servant would have equally run against her 
 in the hall, and started back with surprise to 
 find that it was " the young lady," and another 
 would have watched her from the windows. 
 All this would have happened, because she was 
 doing something contrary to her usual habits. 
 But it is only when we have a secret that we 
 begin to imagine others on the watch ; and she 
 would have passed lightly bye, unconscious or 
 perhaps amused — and her free step, now so 
 business-like and errand-bound, would have 
 bespoken the loiterer of the fragrant summer 
 morning. 
 
 Such it was. The dew was thick upon the 
 grass and trees, fringing the bright blades with 
 sparkUng drops, and coating every cobweb with 
 white spray, so that its otherwise invisible 
 drapery floated, a liquid gossamer, from bush to 
 bush. 
 
 The larks, soaring high, trilled their aerial 
 music to the ear, inaccessible to the sight ; and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 215 
 
 the thrushes warbled their sweet notes from the 
 topmost boughs of the leafy sycamore, and 
 neighbouring ash, answering each other. The 
 cuckoos murmured from the distant woods. 
 The air was full of perfumes, exhaled from the 
 waking leaves and blossoms. 
 
 The flower garden, through which Blanche 
 took her way, as the most private path to the 
 lodge, teemed with fresh and luxuriant beauties. 
 There were showers of the white gum Cistus, 
 reposing on its dark foliage, as light as the foam 
 upon the waters, and almost as transient. Yet 
 unstained by sun or wind, the fair flowers, 
 proud of their rich golden setting, and the dark 
 gems which studded their every petal, turned 
 their broad surface towards the risen sun. 
 Beneath — upon the turf — w^aved beds of that 
 beautiful lily called the Ferraria Tigradia, in 
 all the 'glories of its long scarlet pendants, and 
 leopard spotted centre of scarlet and gold. And 
 the blue eyes of the Nemophila w^ere opened 
 wide from their nightly closing, and looked up 
 to the sky in kindred masses of bright azure. 
 And the starlike iEnotheras beamed again, in 
 glittering ranks, from their dark polished stem.
 
 216 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 And here and there festoons of Convolvolus, 
 violet, pink, white or blue — that lovely flower, 
 called par excellence the Morning Glory, gar- 
 landed the trellace on the arch. While carpets 
 of rich rock Cistus, sparkling with all bright 
 tints, filled up every nook, and seemed to woo 
 the tread of the morning wanderer. 
 
 The Verbenas, dimmed by moisture, refused 
 to dry their tears, and waited for the noon-day 
 sun. The Rose cups drooped, weighed down 
 by liquid fragrance. The heavy Stocks bowed 
 under their dewy cargo. The proud Carnation 
 threatened to snap its dehcate stem under the 
 burden imposed upon it. The soft green leaves 
 of the scarlet Geranium had lost their velvet 
 texture, as aU velvet will when wetted. And 
 in general, it might be observable that the more 
 permanent inhabitants of the garden left to 
 their more evanescent associates, the full glories 
 of the early morning. For God never made 
 flowers, nor human creatures, to interfere with 
 each other. Each has its place in the world, 
 an earlier or a later hour, a longer or a shorter 
 time, to bloom. One discloses its beauty and 
 its odour in the full, broad sunshine — another
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 217 
 
 in the mild, tempered shade — and there are 
 some that expand but in the black, chilling 
 midnight. 
 
 Blanche's feelings, harrassed and excited, 
 owned the influence of this sweet scene. Flowers, 
 to those who love them really, have a voice and 
 a language, and Blanche rejoiced in their 
 companionship. Every flower to her suggested 
 an idea. And she had a tenderness for them 
 which would be inexplicable to those who regard 
 them but as drawing-room appendages — or as 
 the fashion of the day. 
 
 Let those who would expunge from life all 
 which has no other use than its own loveliness 
 look into the flower garden ! Why are those 
 riches so profusely lavished there ? They serve 
 neither for food nor raiment. They even require 
 culture, and time, and care. Yet God in His 
 bounty gives them to us. And through them 
 he has clearly declared that they who labour in 
 His service, honour Him no less when thank- 
 fully, richly, they enjoy, 
 
 Blanche had passed the gate leading into the 
 park, which she was traversing, when she met 
 the train of cows on their way to the dairy.
 
 218 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 She fancied each cow eyed her with peculiar 
 suspicion that morning. 
 
 After saturating her shoes in the dewy grass, 
 she at length arrived at the lodge. No one as 
 yet had passed that way, and the key was 
 mislaid. The lodge-keeper thought her husband 
 must have put it into his pocket by mistake, 
 but he was at work not far off, she would run 
 and ask him. Blanche stood waiting : — at 
 length, she heard a voice behind her. 
 
 " Blanche !" 
 
 " Oh, Papa ! is it you ?" 
 
 " Yes ! Margaret told me she saw you walk 
 this way, so I followed. But surely you are 
 not going out. I did not know you took such 
 early walks." 
 
 " No, Papa, not often — but — " 
 
 " Well ! do not blush about it, Lancey. It 
 is, after all, a very innocent fancy. But which 
 way shall we go now ?" 
 
 Blanche saw it was all over for that morning : 
 so she turned with her father, and recrossed the 
 park. He talked to her kindly, and she would 
 have enjoyed that walk, but for the secret which 
 pressed upon her heart and conscience. Oh !
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 219 
 
 once rid of it, she would never have another. 
 And her letter ! when should she be able to 
 post it ? 
 
 Well she might say so. A violent cold, from 
 neghgence of her damp feet, confined her to the 
 house some days. At length, nearly a week 
 from the time of her first attempt, after many 
 failures, she succeeded in accompHshing her 
 lonely walk to the village, during the absence of 
 Sir Reginald and Lady Estcourte to pay a 
 visit on which she had declined accompanying 
 them. She reached the post office, and dropped 
 in the fated letter. She started and changed 
 colour as she listened to its hollow rattle, as it 
 glided down into the box.
 
 220 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On a morning, about the third after the 
 events which concluded our last chapter, the 
 sun shone brightly on a fair domain, which 
 English eyes might love to look upon. In the 
 centre of a spacious park, thickly studded with 
 timber trees, such as we look for in vain on the 
 other side of the British channel, there stood, 
 on a gentle eminence, an ancient and magni- 
 ficient mansion, built in the truly English style 
 of Elizabeth's time, with gables and attic eleva- 
 tions. The structure was of brown stone, and 
 the centre compartment, which was remarkably 
 rich, displayed a fine grotesque open work para- 
 pet containing a clock. The windows and large 
 projecting bays were divided with stone muUionsj
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 221 
 
 and between each window of the upper story, 
 there was a recess containing a figure in the 
 ancient costume. The whole was surmounted 
 with balustrades and pinnacles. Over the portico 
 in the centre were sculptured the arms of the 
 family. 
 
 The large bay windows of the principal apart- 
 ments opened upon a broad stone terrace, which 
 commanded a fine view of the country. This 
 noble terrace was adorned by pedestals, support- 
 ing vases, in which bloomed luxuriant plants 
 of the large scarlet geranium, alternately with 
 orange trees. And below the terrace, attained 
 by a flight of broad steps, lay a spacious court, 
 laid out in lawns, with straight walks and flower 
 beds, and surrounded by a boundary of balus- 
 trades. 
 
 In the deep bay of one of the projecting 
 mullioned windows, which was open, stood a 
 pair who well became the scene they contem- 
 plated. The lady was young, though perfectly 
 formed in countenance and figure. She was 
 rather above the middle height, and slenderly 
 made, but possessing that exquisite symmetry 
 of form which perplexes the observer as to
 
 222 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 considerations of short or tall. What struck 
 you on the first glance was the beautiful shape 
 of the head, and the manner in which it was 
 set upon the slender throat and neck, giving an 
 air of dignity, and perhaps a slight shadow of 
 haughtiness, to the possessor, which latter indi- 
 cation, at least, the expression of the countenance 
 did not confirm. 
 
 But, though there was no pride in that face, 
 there were traces of the character to which 
 pride eventually bows. The eyes, of so deep a 
 blue as to have the efi'ect of black, were soft 
 and womanly, rather comtemplative than bril- 
 liant. The nose, slightly aquiline, was delicately 
 chiselled, and relieved by the curved and open 
 nostril. The lips were fine and exquisitively 
 cut, and they chiefiy conveyed the expression — 
 that is to say, the active expression — for the 
 passive one, which was of calm, thoughtful, 
 steadfastness resided in the brow, from which 
 retreated the shining bands of black hair, plainly 
 gathered together at the back of th^ head. 
 
 The severe simplicity of the coiffure pervaded 
 also the costume, and w^as equally in that in- 
 stance adapted to the wearer. Altogether,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 223 
 
 that beautiful and graceful vision was the image 
 for a poet's dream. 
 
 And he who stood by her side was worthy to 
 be there. But what was he to her ? His arm 
 was resting fondly upon her waist — yet surely 
 they were not lovers ! No blush, no emotion, 
 no quick changes of countenance shewed that 
 her heart was beating faster than ordinary. 
 She was placid and self-possessed, as she turned 
 and spoke to him, yet earnest and interested, 
 and her smile revealed the beauty of the fair 
 teeth, till then concealed. 
 
 Neither could she be his wife — for there was 
 in his m.anner to her a homage, all affectionate 
 as it was, and a deference, which the close con- 
 jugal tie scarcely admits. 
 
 The mansion was Alringham : and the pair 
 were Helen and Ernest Mainwaring. 
 
 " So poor old Alringham has not lost all its 
 charms for you, Helen ?" said her brother. 
 
 " I love it more than ever, Ernest. Is it not 
 my home ? How much there is in that word — 
 home 1" 
 
 " There is, to English ears. May it be a 
 happy home to you, dear Helen ! You must not 
 run away again at present."
 
 224 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I have had wandering enough. 
 Very delightful it was, though, and I wanted 
 nothing bat your presence to make me at times 
 supremely happy." 
 
 " At times ! why not always, Helen ?" 
 
 " Is it possible, do you think," said Helen, 
 musingly, " to continue long undisturbed in that 
 state w^hich we call supremely happy ?" 
 
 " No," replied her brother, in the same tone, 
 his look fixed abstractedly upon the distant 
 landscape. " I do not think it is. Only mo- 
 ments now and then seem to flash upon us to 
 shew us what it would be like." 
 
 "And hours, and days, and months," said 
 Helen, laughing, " seem to lower upon us to 
 shew us what it would not be like. So the less 
 we think about it the better, Ernest ! * Act, 
 act, in the living present.' " 
 
 And Helen laid her hand caressingly upon 
 her brother's shoulder, and looked up into 
 his face. Ernest smiled. 
 
 "Well, Helen, how are you prepared to begin ?" 
 
 " By gathering a bouquet, I think," she said, 
 as she stepped lightly out upon the terrace. 
 Her brother stood for a few minutes, watching 
 the graceful, fawn-like movements with which
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 225 
 
 she traversed the lawn and parterre, and occasion- 
 alty bent over the flower beds. She looked back 
 and beckoned to him. He was soon at her side. 
 
 " Dear Ernest !'* she said, and she passed her 
 arm through his ; " you asked me just now a 
 question which it is very difficult to answer- 
 how I was prepared to begin my new life here. 
 You must help me to the reply yourself." 
 
 " How 1 I help you, Helen ! If you cannot 
 answer for yourself, I know not who can." 
 
 " But I must first know what is required of 
 me." 
 
 " Required of you !" 
 
 " Yes. I mean that I wish to discover what 
 is the object of my life — what is the work 
 appointed for me to do," said Helen. " x\nd 
 you alone can point this out to me, for you have 
 tested the position, which is new to me." 
 
 " The circumstances of each day develope 
 our duties," said Ernest ; " if we are prepared 
 to go half way to meet them, they will generally 
 advance the other half. Still I agree with you 
 that it is well to attempt, by a careful considera- 
 tion of our position, characters and capa- 
 cities, to deduce some conclusion as to what may 
 
 VOL. T. Q
 
 226 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 be the purpose indicated by a wise Providence 
 in our existence. So much presumption, upon 
 fair grounds, as this gives firmness to our en- 
 deavours, and prevents us from being the sport 
 of every surrounding influence. But it must 
 not be carried too far, or we lose the end in the 
 means. But how is it possible, Helen, that you 
 can call this position new ? Surely, old home 
 remembrances are not quite obliterated !" 
 
 " Obliterated ! Oh ! no ! — they have grown 
 dearer in proportion as they have become but 
 remembrances. But when our bereavement 
 obliged me to leave home, I was but a child, 
 you know, and our parents' love had made 
 obedience my easy and only duty. I return to 
 take another place — a far more responsible one. 
 In future I have to direct, rather than to follow — 
 to think for others, rather than to be the object 
 of solicitude and care. I wish to do this rightly, 
 Ernest. Let me be the associate in your efforts 
 to do the work of life faithfully." 
 
 Mainwaring turned and looked at her. 
 " Why Helen ! not only in person and feature 
 have you become a woman — and, such a 
 woman — but your mind has matured so that
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 227 
 
 1 hardly know my little quiet sister of days gone 
 bye. And here have I been writing to you 
 sage and parental counsels, and playing the 
 Mentor most scrupulously, while, as it appears, 
 you were far more qualified to administer advice 
 to me." 
 
 " Yet continue to do so," said Helen, with 
 a fond pressure of his arm, " for I love your 
 counsels, my Brother !" 
 
 He looked at her affectionately, and both 
 were silent for some minutes. Then, in his 
 accustomed tone, he resumed more lightly, 
 
 " One of my hints I see you thought worth 
 notice, for you have not followed the general 
 example by bringing home a French maid in 
 your train." 
 
 " I hardly required your hint in that par- 
 ticular case, certainly," she replied, " for my 
 experience of foreign servants was not such as 
 to tempt me very strongly to carry their services 
 out of their own countries, where they must be 
 tolerated." 
 
 " I am glad you agree with me, Helen. The 
 system of employing aliens to our nation, and 
 probably to our faith, in so many capacities of 
 
 Q 2
 
 228 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 trust, is, in my opinion, not only foolish, but 
 dangerous ; and I have determined to admit no 
 foreigners of the class to which w^e allude, 
 unless for some most cogent reason, into my 
 household." 
 
 " That is, into your service" 
 
 "Most judiciously qualified. One of your 
 labours in life, you see, must be the teaching 
 me to express myself with accuracy — particularly 
 as I am about to become a senator." 
 
 *' Yes ! we must talk of that. Are you so 
 sure, dear Ernest ! that you shall succeed ?" 
 
 " Main waring !" cried a voice from the 
 terrace. The brother and sister turned, but 
 Helen who was screened by an arhorvitcB, did 
 not catch a view of the speaker. " Main- 
 waring ! how are you, old fellow ?" 
 
 Ernest walked rapidly forward, and shook 
 hands with Clarence Egerton. " You are come 
 just in time to answer my sister's question," he 
 said. 
 
 " Your sister !" exclaimed Clarence, who 
 had not seen Helen. But at that moment they 
 reached the spot where she stood, and Ernest 
 presented his friend to her. Helen bowed, and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 229 
 
 again might be observed the stately carriage of 
 the head and neck, which had disappeared in 
 her intercourse with her brother. 
 
 Clarence Egerton had been slightly abashed 
 that any lady should have witnessed his free and 
 easy greeting — but when he fixed his eye on 
 Helen, his annoyance was complete. There she 
 stood, so calm, so dignified, so perfectly un- 
 ruffled by the abruptness of the meeting ; yet, 
 withal, so evidently commanding the most 
 chivalrous respect, that the Guardsman actually 
 coloured. 
 
 "And now, Helen," said her brother, "if 
 you will repeat to Captain Egerton the enquiry 
 you have just made of me, he will be, perhaps, 
 the more competent of the two to give you a 
 satisfactory reply." 
 
 " I was asking my brother," said Helen 
 somewhat coldly, " what are his chances of 
 return in the ensuing election ?" 
 
 "Miss Mainwaring," replied Egerton, with 
 an air of profound gravity, " I believe the 
 English law requires no man to criminate 
 himself; and, since Mainwaring, if defeated, 
 would I am afraid have no one to accuse but
 
 230 THE SECOND WIFE, 
 
 me, you must allow me to stand excused from 
 giving an opinion." 
 
 "You! Mr. Egerton!" said Miss Main- 
 waring, with surprise ; and she turned to Ernest 
 for explanation. 
 
 " It is perfectly true, Helen," quietly remarked 
 her brother. "You see before you the rival 
 candidate." 
 
 " I am that unfortunate individual, Miss 
 Mainwaring," said Clarence, with a ludicrously 
 dejected air. " But if it can in any degree 
 mollify your just indignation to be informed of 
 the fact, know that I intend to leave nothing 
 undone to secure your brother's return." 
 
 " Then — for what possible reason can you 
 be opposing him ?" continued Helen, quite 
 bewildered. 
 
 " Partly to save him from a more seriously 
 hostile opponent — partly for the fun of the 
 thing. For any and every reason, Miss Main- 
 waring, except that of a wish to become a 
 member of the British Paiiiament, for which 
 your superior penetration has, I see, already 
 pronounced me unfit." 
 
 A quiet smile stole over Helen's features, and
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 231 
 
 her colour deepened a little. " But how will 
 you be able, even in jest, to advocate a cause 
 which you believe to be the wrong one ?" 
 
 " Believe to be the wrong one 1 I believe 
 nothing. I hardly know as yet which part I 
 am expected to take, but it will all come out 
 in good time. Depend upon it, Miss Main- 
 waring, politics are a mere farce ! and, now you 
 have got two of the principal actors behind the 
 scenes, Richard and Richmond take off their 
 tinsel, and laugh at York and Lancaster." 
 
 Helen looked grave. Ernest smiled. 
 
 " Have I forfeited all chance of your good 
 opinion for ever, Miss Mainwaring?" asked 
 Clarence. 
 
 " Helen does not understand you, Egerton, 
 though I think I do,'* said Ernest. 
 
 " My meaning is very simple, Mainwaring. 
 It is only this — that, let the contest end as it 
 may, you and I are to forget, the moment we 
 leave the hustings, the parts we there enacted. 
 I mean as regards our opposition to each 
 other." 
 
 " I hope nothing will occur that we shall 
 either of us wish to forget," said Ernest. " And,
 
 232 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 for the rest, you need not doubt my friendship, 
 Egerton/' 
 
 " Right ! and like yourself ! and the more 
 credit to you, because, after all, I am afraid you 
 are reallv bitten with the disease called Public 
 Principle. Yes ! Miss Mainwaring ! I do indeed 
 confess that I believe your brother is foolish 
 enough to be in earnest." 
 
 Helen smiled a complacent smile, and Cla- 
 rence thought he never saw any thing so 
 beautiful. He stooped to pick up a flower 
 which she had dropped from her bouquet, 
 and presented it to her as if she had been 
 a princess. 
 
 " Have you been at Marwood ?" asked Ernest, 
 maliciously. 
 
 The question seemed to annoy him. " No ! 
 — not yet," he said, " I only came down yester- 
 day. By the way, though, I did a little 
 canvassing as I came hither, with my old 
 friends, the Miss Butlers." 
 
 " And how did you speed ?" said Ernest. 
 
 " Oh ! a merveille. I insinuated myself so 
 far into the fair Isabella's good graces, that she 
 confided to me several family anecdotes. She
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 233 
 
 informed me that an ancestor of hers had been 
 Lord-Lieutenant of L'eland, and that, if every 
 one had their rights, her father would have 
 inherited the title." 
 
 "For shame! Clarence! And what did 
 you say ?" 
 
 " I asked her whether the Lord-Lieutenancy 
 had descended in any other hne." 
 
 In spite of themselves, Helen and Ernest 
 laughed. " And she said it had not," continued 
 he composedly, " for the last possessor of the 
 family honours was trampled under his horse's 
 feet at the battle of Trafalgar." 
 
 '' Pure invention ! Captain Egerton !" said 
 Helen, as soon as she had recovered herself 
 sufficiently to speak. " I will not stay to hear 
 another word of such abominable slander." 
 And with an air of condemnation, half real, 
 half assumed, Helen swept across the lawn, and 
 disappeared at the open window. 
 
 " Why, Mainwaring ! your sister is a Queen !" 
 said Egerton. A proud smile crossed the 
 brother's features. " I am afraid she must 
 have thought me very rude on my arrival," 
 added his friend.
 
 234 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " You, Egerton ! Helen think you rude ! 
 Oh no ! I am sure she would not," said Ernest, 
 with that total unconsciousness which brothers 
 generally display of sisters' impressions. 
 
 " Well ! you must make the best of the 
 case for me." He thrust his arm through 
 Ernest's. " To tell you the truth, Mainwaring, 
 I am half mad about this election. St. 
 Ormonde and that fellow, Vivian, are frightfully 
 in earnest." 
 
 " Is Mr. Vivian so zealous a politician ?" 
 asked Ernest, somewhat surprised. " I thought 
 him quite engrossed with the duties of his 
 profession." 
 
 '' But he makes this contest one of the duties 
 of his profession," said Egerton, emphatically. 
 " He is w^orking incessantly, quietly, and, I 
 suppose, conscientiously, to carry his point. He 
 shewed me last night a list with every vote in the 
 county noted and commented on. Those are 
 the men to carry all before them. Ernest ! 
 I protest to you, if 1 were in your place, there 
 is not a man in — shire whose influence I should 
 dread hke that of yonder self-denying, world- 
 renouncing, clergyman !"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 235 
 
 "And Lord St. Ormonde himself?" said 
 Ernest, interrogatively. 
 
 *' Has evidently been instigated by his chaplain 
 to get up an opposition, but he enters into the 
 thing with sufficient spirit at times. Poor fellow ! 
 we must keep him out of the way of excitement 
 as much as possible, for nothing can be more 
 ruinous to a constitution like his." 
 
 "I thought him looking ill when I paid 
 him a visit the other day," said Mainwaring. 
 
 " Aye — by the bye — and he was so touched 
 at the generosity of your friendly visit under 
 the circumstances (for St. Ormonde is strangely 
 romantic) that he commissioned me to make 
 a request to you, which, but for your mention 
 of the fact, I should have forgotten." 
 
 " I am all curiosity to hear it." 
 
 " A strange fancy ! Nothing more nor less 
 than that, in order to prove the absence of 
 personal hostility in this contest, however it 
 may terminate, defeaters and defeatec? shall all 
 meet at a ball at Greystone Abbey on the evening 
 of the day of election !" 
 
 Ernest smiled. 
 
 '' I will consider myself engaged to Greystone
 
 236 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 for that evening," he said, " and pray tell Lord 
 St. Ormonde so, with my compliments." 
 
 "And your sister?" hesitatingly enquired 
 Egerton. 
 
 " My sister will, I have no doubt, on the 
 receipt of the proper invitation, have pleasure in 
 accompanying me." 
 
 " Bravo !" exclaimed Clarence. " That will 
 be something to look forward to after the 
 toil and danger of the day. And now nothing 
 remains to be done to shew our decided una- 
 nimity, bi t that you should nominate me, and 
 I you." 
 
 " What a wild fellow you are, Egerton ! But 
 who is to be your nominator?" 
 
 " I don't know. Vivian must provide one, as 
 he stands godfather to the whole aifair. I heard 
 him proposing Sir Perceval Grant." 
 
 *' Sir Perceval Grant ! — I did not know he 
 was in the county." 
 
 "Nor I either. But Vivian knows every 
 thing, and he says he came down yesterday." 
 
 " Where is he staying ?" 
 
 "At a place called Charnwood Priory, I un- 
 derstand."
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 237 
 
 " At the Estcourte's ?" 
 
 " Precisely, that was the name." 
 
 " Why ! Sir Reginald Estcourte is to nominate 
 me!" 
 
 " Nothing can be more fair, then, than that 
 his guest should nominate me." 
 
 Ernest was silent for a few minutes. 
 
 " Is Mrs. Grant with Sir Perceval ?" he said, 
 at length. 
 
 His friend must have detected a chano^e of 
 tone, for he looked at him. 
 
 " I never enquired," he said. " If I had 
 known you would shew such a sudden interest in 
 Sir Perceval's movements, I wuald have made it 
 my business to ascertain." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Come in and take some lun- 
 cheon." 
 
 "Too tempting an offer to be resisted. 
 Though I promised the fair Georgina to lunch 
 at Marwood the very first day after my arrival 
 in this neighbourhood." 
 
 " You did so ! Then, Egerton, I withdraw 
 my invitation. Can you hesitate ?" 
 
 " I believe you are right, sternest of casuists !
 
 238 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 But I will have my revenge, and come another 
 
 day. Farewell !" 
 
 ^ ^ ^ ^ 
 
 " How do you like my friend Egerton ?" said 
 Mainwaring, as he and his sister sat turning 
 over some prints which Helen had brought from 
 Italy, during the afternoon of the same day. 
 
 " I should never have expected him to be 
 your friend, Ernest," she replied, in a somewhat 
 propitiatory tone. 
 
 "He is certainly more brilliant than I am," 
 said her brother ; " but friendship does not re- 
 quire equality of gifts, or similarity of characters." 
 
 " No ! On the contrary," said Helen, " it 
 more frequently seeks a contrast. But, dearest 
 Ernest, is it possible you do not understand that 
 if I mean to infer an inferiority on either side, 
 it certainly is not on yours ?" 
 
 *' He is a great favourite with every body, I 
 assure you, Helen ! A most popular fellow !" 
 said her brother, rather consideringly. It is 
 astonishing how httle men know how to appre- 
 ciate each other — or, perhaps, to speak more 
 correctly, how little they guess at the quahties
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 239 
 
 which render them valued by women. " Why 
 do you not like Egerton ?" added he. 
 
 " I did not say I disliked him." 
 
 " He has the kindest heart ! the most gene- 
 rous nature ! And believe me, Helen 1 I have not 
 a warmer fiiend in the world. You do not know 
 half his good qualities." 
 
 " I can readily believe that. But good quali- 
 ties should be directed to good purposes." 
 
 " And how do you know that Egerton's are 
 not ?" 
 
 " My dear Ernest !^ — to say nothing at present 
 of the lightness with which he undertakes to 
 oppose his friend in a matter of deep interest ; — 
 could any one hear his conversation of this 
 morning, and not conclude that he is allowing 
 himself to be made the representative of the 
 most important principles and opinions, without 
 a single conviction of right or wrong ?" 
 
 " You are severe. Poor Clarence shews the 
 worst of himself. You must let me read you 
 a passage out of my favourite author for your 
 edification on this subject." 
 
 Mainwaring reached down the volume, and 
 read, as follows :
 
 240 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " ^ Leaves are light, and useless, and idle, and 
 wavering, and changeable : they even dance : 
 yet God has made them part of the oak. In so 
 doing He has given us a lesson not to deny the 
 stout-hearted ness within, because we see the 
 lightsomeness without.' " 
 
 Ernest looked up, and met Helen's exquisite 
 smile, as she dwelt musingly, for a few moments 
 after he had ceased, on the words he had read. 
 She crossed the room to the spot where he sate, 
 and bending her pliant figure over the back of 
 his chair, lightly pressed her lips upon his fore- 
 head. 
 
 '* Thank you ! my dear Brother ! for that 
 beautiful extract. I love the passage, and 1 
 love you for reading it. And I will not say 
 another word about Mr. Egerton." 
 
 " I wonder whether she is convinced !" thought 
 Ernest. But, before he could shape the question 
 into some presentable form, a servant entered, 
 with a note for Helen, saying that the messenger 
 waited for an answer, and retired. 
 
 Helen read the note — looked puzzled — read 
 it over again — then, putting it into her brother's 
 hand, said.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 241 
 
 « 
 
 " Perhaps, Ernest, you can throw some light 
 upon this subject ; and also tell me how to 
 answer the note ?" 
 
 Mainwaring took the paper from her hands, 
 and looked first at the subscription. Utterin 
 an exclamation of surprise, he perused the rest. 
 The contents were as follows : 
 
 " Dearest Helen ! 
 " En route for the * bonny braes' of Scotland, I 
 found myself, quite unexpectedly, in this Httle 
 pet village of iUringham. The moment its 
 name was announced to me, I recalled to me- 
 mory the lovely partner of my box on the night 
 of Mario's benefit, and countermanded my horses, 
 resolved not to lose the opportunity of seeing 
 her once again. Sweet Helen ! send me a line 
 to the ' Mainwaring Arms,' where I await your 
 reply. And, if you have no better engagement 
 — me void! Meantime believe me touts a vous, 
 " Caroline Henrietta Armadale." 
 
 A look of intense amusement darted from 
 
 Ernest's eyes, and played round his lips as he 
 
 read this note. But, schooling his countenance 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 into a seriousness which the rebel glance still 
 belied, he raised his eyes, and met Helen's steady 
 enquiring gaze, with one equally unmoved. 
 They looked at each other for a few moments. 
 " The Countess does you great honour, Helen !" 
 he remarked, still keeping his eyes fixed upon her. 
 " Not to me, for I hardly know her," she replied. 
 
 " You were in her box at the opera about 
 three years ago," rejoined he, still watching her. 
 
 " And should not now recognise her," she said. 
 
 '* Well ! what answer do you intend to return 
 to her proposal ?" 
 
 " That depends on yourself, Ernest." 
 
 " On me ! You see she does not deign even 
 to mention me. But 1 do not see how you can 
 decline the visit." 
 
 " Tell me, Ernest ! — does she come totally 
 without invitation ?" 
 
 "Totally." 
 
 " And quite unexpectedly ?" 
 
 « Quite." 
 
 " Yet you think this mode of introducing 
 herself consistent with delicacy and good breed- 
 ing?" 
 
 " Helen ! — you were made for an advocate.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 243 
 
 I did not say so — I only said T did not see how 
 you could refuse to receive Lady Armadale's 
 proffered visit." 
 
 Helen reflected for a few minutes. 
 
 " Dear Ernest ! I wish you would dictate to 
 me the terms in which I shall accept it." 
 
 During those few minutes, the countenance of 
 Mainwaring had lost its expression of suppressed 
 mirth, and had become thoughtful, and even 
 disturbed. His voice, too, to the sister's ear, 
 betrayed the disquiet of his mind as he 
 answered her. 
 
 " Oh ! anything will do, Helen. Just say 
 that we — that is you — will be happy to see her." 
 And Ernest rose impatiently, and began to pace 
 the room. 
 
 Why should he be so moved by this occur- 
 rence? At first apparently diverted by the 
 Countess's arrival, and now exhibiting feelings 
 so Hke annoyance? Helen sat down to the 
 writing table, opened the case, and took up her 
 pen — then once more she watched her brother's 
 perambulations. 
 
 She rose and stood before him, laying her 
 hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 R ^
 
 244 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " Forgive me, Ernest !" she said, " if 1 seem 
 to ask a delicate question ; but is there any 
 ground upon which Lady Armadale can rest a 
 claim to be welcomed here at will ?" 
 
 There was that in Helen's voice and manner, 
 which unconsciously to herself, commanded 
 respect. The very force which she exercised 
 over herself, whenever a duty — painful or 
 irksome as it might be — was to be performed, 
 reacted on others also. A character which never 
 shrinks from difficulty, speedily gains power. 
 
 Her brother looked upon her fine person, and 
 beautiful, earnest countenance raised to his, with 
 admiration and pride. His manner was a little 
 excited as he spoke. 
 
 " Helen ! is it possible you can think for a 
 moment that a woman who could act as — as 
 Lady Armadale is doing in this instance alone 
 — can have any claims upon your brother, 
 beyond those of the most casual acquaintance ?" 
 
 " No ! Ernest, I did not think so. Why not 
 then view her visit with indifference ?" 
 
 " Because there are other reasons which 
 make it the very last thing I should desire. 
 My name has been (most groundlessly) asso-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 245 
 
 ciated with hers in a public print, and, deny it 
 as you will, a visit like this confirms such a 
 report. Again, my darling Sister ! she is not 
 the companion I should have chosen for you, on 
 this your reappearance in our little world of 
 — shire." 
 
 " Never mind me, dear Ernest ! The event is 
 * untoward:' but, such as it is, we must meet 
 it, and conquer it." 
 
 Helen did not know all her brother's reasons 
 for deprecating the appearance of a liaison with 
 Lady Armadale, in his own county. She sat 
 down immediately, and wrote the note, which 
 met with Ernest's approval, and was forthwith 
 dispatched to the Mainwaring Arms. 
 
 " I have been wondering how the Countess 
 knew you were here," said Ernest. 
 
 " Has she any friends in this neighbour- 
 hood ?" asked his sister. " Though even that 
 supposition would not account for her intelli- 
 gence, as I have yet seen no one but Mr. 
 Egerton." 
 
 "You have it, Helen. Egerton says Mrs. 
 Grant is staying at the Priory — and she is a 
 kind of familiar of Lady Armadale's."
 
 246 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " But Mrs. Grant came down only yesterday. 
 And how should she become acquainted with 
 the movements of so insignificant a person as 
 myself?" 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Mainwaring ! you are not 
 insignificant. Even the * potent, grave, and 
 reverend ' Vivian, condescended to ask me the 
 other day, when you were expected." 
 
 Helen laughed. " I have some curiosity to 
 see poor Mrs. Grant," she said, " I heard so 
 much of her story at Rome." 
 
 The Countess of Armadale was announced ! 
 
 In all the elegance of the most recherche 
 travelling costume, veiled with Brussels lace, 
 and wrapped in Indian Cachmere, the beauti- 
 ful Countess presented herself. The multitu- 
 dinous folds of her simple baptiste swept the 
 ground. Her left arm, with its dehcately 
 gloved hand, was clasped round something 
 which, at first sight, looked hke a muff; but 
 which, upon further examination, proved to be 
 the tiniest of spaniels of the Alpine breed. 
 This charming little animal, regardless of the 
 entreaties of his mistress, persisted in his resolu- 
 tion of starting from her arms immediately on
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 247 
 
 her entrance into the room, and making a furious 
 onset, with his sharp shrill voice, on everybody 
 and everything therein. Nothing discomposed, 
 though declaring herself deafened, the Countess 
 advanced in the most engaging and caressante 
 manner, to embrace Helen. 
 
 But Lady Armadale was not prepared for 
 the queenly stateliness of the figure, which rose 
 from the ottoman, and went forward to meet 
 her ; and her intended endearments would have 
 been out of taste, (a thing she could not endure), 
 as a return for the cold and dignified, though 
 eminently polished, greeting of her hostess. 
 The woman of the world saw at a glance that 
 she had mistaken her ground. This was not 
 the childish, inexperienced young girl whom she 
 had expected to dazzle and flatter into subser- 
 vience to her views. With a sudden change of 
 tactics, and simultaneous wave of all her dra- 
 peries, which filled the room with an overpower- 
 ing odour of otto of rose, the Countess turned 
 towards Ernest. 
 
 " Mr. Mainwaring !" she said — and her tone 
 was irresistible — " pray present me to this mag- 
 nificent sister of yours ! Fido, why will you dis- 
 tract me ?'*
 
 248 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Ernest advanced. " Pardon me, Lady Arma- 
 dale ! for having been so negligent. I thought 
 you and Helen were acquainted." And he 
 shook hands with his guest, and looked at his 
 sister. 
 
 " Certainly !" said Helen, as she and the 
 Countess repeated the ceremony, " I have not 
 forgotten that I am indebted to Lady Arma- 
 dale for a very agreeable evening's amusement." 
 
 " Ah ! you are too good to remember such a 
 thing ! Come here ! will you, Fido ! The next 
 time I have the honour of chaperoning the 
 beautiful Miss Mainwaring, I shall have half 
 London in my box during the evening." 
 
 Helen coloured ; for a compliment upon her 
 beauty, even from one of her own sex, rather 
 discomposed her. She immediately changed 
 the subject, by enquiring if Lady Armadale 
 had travelled far — and whether she was fatigued. 
 
 By this time the Countess had sunk into a 
 fauteuil, and coaxed the rebellious Fido to take 
 refuge on her cachmere. She declared herself, 
 in answer to Helen's enquiry, to be " quite 
 dead." 
 
 " Shall I order you refreshments here ?" said 
 Miss Mainwaring, on this appalling announce-
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 249 
 
 ment, " or would you prefer taking them in 
 your own apartment ?" 
 
 " Oh ! not any, thank you." Ernest rang the 
 bell. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Mainwaring ! you are as perverse 
 as ever, I see ! What shall I do to punish you ?" 
 Here Fido sprang from her lap, and made an 
 uproarious attack upon the servant who obeyed 
 the summons, so that it was not without some 
 efforts that Ernest could make his orders 
 heard. 
 
 The refreshments were brought ; and Lady 
 Armadale was, with much difficulty, prevailed 
 upon by Mainwaring to drink a glass of wine ; 
 Fido being, with equal difficulty, prevailed upon 
 by her to take a few crumbs of the cake which 
 she scattered, for his benefit, all over the carpet. 
 
 " You really quite spoil me 1" she said, " but 
 you shall have your own way. No wonder I 
 was unable to withstand the attractions of 
 Alringham." 
 
 " With Lady Armadale as an inmate, 1 am 
 sure they will be irresistible," said Mainwaring, 
 in that conventional tone of galanterie which 
 most unequivocally declares indifference.
 
 250 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " And what a charming place ! fait a ravir / 
 — my heau ideal of a really English home ! Ah 1 
 you know of old, Mr. Mainwaring, my weakness 
 for the habits and manners, and even the 
 absurdities, of dear old John Bull." 
 
 Lady Armadale forgot that her upholsterer, 
 milliner, and maid, were Parisian ; and that she 
 hardly ever opened her lips without adopting 
 French phrases. 
 
 " Yes, I have heard you express something 
 of the kind, and I am delighted that you admire 
 Alringham : my sister and I are much attached 
 to it." Helen had left the room a few minutes 
 before. 
 
 " Your Sister ! Ah ! dear Mr. Mainwaring, 
 but you must not keep her buried here ! What 
 a splendid creature she is ! a beauty a faire 
 fureur at Almacks." 
 
 Ernest smiled inwardly at the Countess's 
 horror of Helen's being " buried" in her " heau 
 ideal of a home." But, conciliated by the 
 admiration which she expressed for his sister, 
 he said, in a tone more like his own, 
 
 " Yes ! Helen is very beautiful — but that is 
 the least of her attractions. And if she par-
 
 THE SECOND T\'IFE. 251 
 
 ticipate but very moderatly in public amusements, 
 I can assure you it shall be by her own choice." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! as a Brother, you can only 
 advise, of course. And I so envy her that 
 firmness and strength of character which she 
 seems to possess — quite able, I daresay, to 
 decide for herself on any thing. I am such a 
 poor, dependent, feminine creature myself: you 
 can hardly suppose how I suffer from extreme 
 delicacy and sensitiveness ; so that I perfectly 
 venerate her confidence and aplomb.'' 
 
 And Mainwaring was again amused as he 
 imagined his " confident," and " strong minded" 
 sister, taking the bold step which the " sensitive 
 and delicate" Countess was carrying through 
 with so much coolness and self-possession. 
 
 At this moment Helen re-entered. 
 
 " We were talking of you, dear !" said the 
 Countess, " and your Brother gives me such an 
 imposing idea of your superiority, that really I 
 feel quite afraid of you. You must be my 
 oracle, and allow me to look up to you." 
 
 This was said in a most bewitching tone of 
 naivete ; and Helen, surprised, looked towards 
 her brother. His eyes answered hers ; and she
 
 252 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 proceeded accordingly, in her own straight- 
 forward manner, to address the countess exactly 
 as she had been prepared to do, on entering. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to be introduced to 
 your apartments. Lady Armadale : I am sure 
 you must require a Httle rest before dinner." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! I really had forgotten such a 
 thing as dinner existed. But I put myself 
 under your guidance with pleasure, dear Miss 
 Mainwaring !" And with an intensely confiding 
 air, the Countess inserted her arm within Helen's, 
 as she rose to quit the room. 
 
 At this moment a portentous crash resounded 
 from the neighbourhood of one of the bay 
 windows. All t urned to the spot, and there 
 on the floor, shivered into fragments, lay a 
 lovely Maltese vase, placed by Helen that very 
 morning on its picturesque stand, in great 
 triumph that it had escaped without injury 
 through perils by land and water, custom-house, 
 and packer's fingers. There it lay — graceful 
 forms of birds, and flowers, and tendrilled 
 vines — all scattered in beautiful ruin on the 
 soft Axminster. And on the pedestal couched 
 — Fido !
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 253 
 
 The three stood for an instant. Helen 
 spoke first. 
 
 " It is only the Maltese vase," she said, 
 gathering up some of the fragments. 
 
 " Poor Helen !" ejaculated Ernest, very low. 
 The Countess Sviized the dog from his pictu- 
 resquely chosen station, and, imprisoning him 
 once more in her arms, commenced a pathetic 
 remonstrance. 
 
 " Ah ! ungrateful, wicked, petit chien ! you 
 shall never make your escape again — never ! 
 never ! Alas ! Miss Mainwaring, how will you 
 ever forgive me ? I am au desespoir ! what 
 shall I do to prove to you my perfect WTetched- 
 ness ? That exquisite vase !" 
 
 Lady Armadale herself possessed its coun- 
 terpart — and a less refined person would have 
 insisted upon its being accepted in place of the 
 other ; but the Countess had too much real 
 breeding to think of offering a substitute. 
 
 She looked so sincerely distressed that both 
 Helen and Ernest became anxious to comfort 
 her. The accident was, perhaps, the luckiest 
 thing which could have happened to her, as it 
 threw into their manner a cordiality and warmth
 
 254 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 which they had not previously testified. Helen 
 replied to her appeal. 
 
 " I am afraid I should be barbarous enough 
 to laugh if you could make yourself wretched, 
 Lady Armadale, only about my poor vase. 
 But I think I hear the dressing bell." 
 
 " You must think me so gauche r sighed 
 the Countess. This, in her opinion, was one 
 of the most serious charges extant. 
 
 " You !" said Ernest, in his own frank tone. 
 " Why, I think you were at the other end of 
 the room, talking to my sister, and I, who 
 ought to have been watching the little dog, was 
 listening to you. And now, do not let this 
 little accident detain you from the rest you so 
 much need.'* 
 
 And he opened the door for her with his 
 wonted deference and courtesy. She glided 
 from the room with a deep sigh. 
 
 When Lady Armadale left the drawing-room, 
 her goods and chattels were distributed as 
 follows. The cachmere fell in folds over the 
 back of the large chair which she had first 
 occupied. One glove was on the table — the 
 other upon the carpet. Her curious Indian
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 255 
 
 sac de voyage reposed on an ottoman, and the 
 mdisswe Jiacon ofEau de Cologne lay stopperless, 
 pouring out its sweets , upon a footstool. A 
 parasol had found its way to the antique cabinet, 
 and a veil was dipping its elegant sprigs into 
 the inkstand. The Countess's maid, Angelique, 
 collected her mistress's possessions, as a matter 
 of course, a few minutes afterwards. 
 
 This w^as not affectation. Lady Armadale 
 was too unquestionably a lady to act the fine 
 lady. But it was something worse. It w^as 
 the mainspring of character acting in little 
 things. An habitual disregard for the con- 
 venience and feelings of others — a principle of 
 casting all before the Juggernaut, self — evidenced 
 itself throughout the Countess's conduct ; and 
 she was never half an hour in company, without 
 demonstrating — though in the merest trifles, 
 perhaps — that the idol retained its sway.
 
 256 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The town of Tilverton was one of those 
 unsatisfactory, mean-looking localities, which 
 have missed the rustic beauty of a modest 
 country village, without attaining to the yet very 
 limited pretensions of a respectable country 
 town. When you first gained a view of it from 
 the railway, you fancied that you were really 
 coming to a place of some importance ; but this 
 was because your eye was caught by the massive 
 and handsome tower of the venerable old church 
 — one of the most beautiful of the monu- 
 ments which still exist of the zeal and skill of 
 our forefathers in ecclesiastical architecture. 
 
 You were willing to believe that in the neigh- 
 bourhood of such an edifice, other relics of the
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 257 
 
 mighty past might still be found. But it required 
 but a five minutes' walk into Tilverton to con- 
 vince you of your error. 
 
 There was a market-place of triangular form, 
 surrounded on two sides by high, narrow, 
 houses of dusky brick, of which the lower 
 stories, for the most part, exhibited blue boards 
 with yellow letters, setting forth the name 
 and calling of the occupant. Amongst these 
 shops, two were dignified by bow windows — the 
 grocer's, resplendent with green cannisters, 
 painted all over with make-believe Chinese — 
 bottles of S oyer's sauce, as bright as scarlet 
 sealing-wax and blue paper could make them — 
 and some glass jars of sickly looking raspberries 
 and cadaverous gooseberries, hermetically sealed, 
 and likely, by all appearances, to remain so. The 
 haberdasher owned the other bow window ; and 
 there were exposed to view, in prominent dis- 
 play, the latest fashions of brilliant cotton 
 handkerchiefs — some stamped with foxes' heads, 
 or hounds in full run, for the pockets of the 
 " gentlemen of the hunt " — others inscribed 
 with passages from Watts's Hymns, or illustra- 
 tions of sacred subjects, for " good children." 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 That there were not many such in TilvertoHy 
 the perpetual uproar of the streets, and the 
 unceasing reproaches of the elder population, 
 seemed to indicate. In fact, Tilverton was a 
 manufacturing town, and you read " Insubordi- 
 nation " upon every face you met there. 
 
 The third side of the market-place was occu- 
 pied by the Bank, the banker's house, and the 
 Mechanics* Institute. They all so closely re- 
 sembled each other, in the shabby, worn out 
 look which red brick assumes with time in all 
 but the grandest edifices, that a particular des- 
 cription is unnecessary. There was something 
 like a colonnade, however, attempted, to dis- 
 tinguish the Bank, and six iron posts of about a 
 span in thickness, painted the colour of stone, 
 supported a roof of plaister. 
 
 Besides these buildings, the town contained 
 a large Roman Catholic chapel, two or three 
 Dissenting Meeting Houses, a high walled build- 
 ing called a seminary, containing an association, 
 or order of sisters, bound by vows, and wearing 
 a conventual dress — and last, not least, very 
 extensive, and more than ordinarily desolate 
 looking barracks.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 259 
 
 The aristocracy of Tilverton were neither 
 very numerous nor very dignified. The banker, 
 also a brewer, who lived in the large red house 
 with the ancient yellow blinds always drawn 
 down, naight be said to be at the head of it. 
 But, like all posts of honour, his was also the 
 post of danger. The Tilvertonians had, on one 
 occasion, enforced their demand for increased 
 wages over his money sills ; and, at all times 
 of high prices, they threatened his ale vats. 
 The banker was, therefore, mortally afraid of the 
 Tilvertonians. 
 
 Rather less so, perhaps, though quite as 
 obsequious to them, was his neighbour who 
 lived in one of the tall slips opposite, distin- 
 guished from the rest by the absence of the 
 blue board with yellow letters, and the presence 
 of a broad, mouse-coloured door, with a huge 
 brass plate upon it, on which was engraved 
 " Blenkinsop, Surgeon." These parties, with 
 the haberdasher, the grocer, and the editor of a 
 weekly unstamped publication, which gained 
 him great literary renown (in Tilverton) as also, 
 occasionally, some of the ministers of the several 
 sectarian congregations — formed the elite of 
 
 s 2
 
 260 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Tilverton. As for the Rector, he was hardly in 
 their line. 
 
 Doctor Stanley had succeeded to the large 
 and richly endowed living of Tilverton, in right 
 of his fellowship, when arrived at the period of 
 middle life. He had not, however, spent the 
 previous years in the comparative repose of 
 academical pursuits, but had laboured hard in 
 his pastoral vocation in various scenes and situa- 
 tions, from the time of his being ordained to it. 
 So that now he entered upon his parish, not 
 only the erudite and learned scholar, but the 
 experienced and practical parish Priest. Indeed, 
 he soon found that the latter qualifications were 
 the only ones likely to be of much use to him at 
 Tilverton. His beautiful church was falling to 
 decay — his congregation had wandered away to 
 other folds — his sacred office was the favourite 
 subject for Til vert onian wit, and the theme of 
 some of the most brilliant effusions in the un- 
 stamped weekly publication. As for schools, 
 they existed but in name. Great neglect or 
 weakness it was evident there had been on one 
 side, and the Ucence on the other might rather 
 be a subject of pity than of blame. But that
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 261 
 
 was not the question now. What was to be done? 
 Doctor Stanley saw all his difficulties. He 
 knew that the Church might be repaired — the 
 services restored — the schools re-established— 
 money would do that. But how to gain for 
 God's holy ordinances the respect of a people 
 who seemed to respect nothing ! who lent their 
 ears only to the teachers who ministered to 
 their vanity and self-love ; or the Priests who 
 gave them material bodily comforts, and mira- 
 culous spiritual ones. The case seemed almost 
 hopeless. 
 
 The Rector was not too sanguine ; but neither 
 was he the man whom any amount of difficulty 
 could discourage. And there was something 
 about Doctor Stanley which produced an im- 
 pression analogous to that with which we regard 
 a great General, whose bearing stamps him the 
 soldier. Doctor Stanley was, every inch, the 
 clergyman. See him where you would, when 
 you would, there was no mistaking him — he 
 was identical with his profession. His duties 
 seemed to require no effort, or painful self-denial ; 
 — they were a part of himself — the routine — 
 the necessity — the delight — of his life.
 
 26*2 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 As for his difSculties, they were so many 
 insurgent foes to be conquered — with as little 
 fighting and as little bloodshed as possible — 
 yet, coolly, unhesitatingly, to be conquered. 
 He knew his forces, and had calculated the odds 
 against him; still confident, he marched on. 
 Something of this appeared in his bearing ; and, 
 as his strong, athletic figure, and firm step 
 passed along the streets of Tilvertoh, his parish- 
 ioners, if not awed into respect, became at least 
 impressed as to the uselessness of intimidation ; 
 and diminished something of the familiarity 
 of manner with which they had, at first, accosted 
 hira. 
 
 Meantime, he effected gradual, but not 
 astounding changes. The Church was restored 
 and beautified, with such interior arrangements 
 that want of accommodation could no longer be 
 alleged as the obstacle to attendance. The 
 services were performed as they can be per- 
 formed only where the minister's whole heart is 
 in his office — the sermons combined the elo- 
 quence and authority of one who taught, with the 
 simplicity and humility of one who persuaded. 
 The music was subsidiary, confined to the lan^
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 263 
 
 guage of praise — but there, good and elevating. 
 The dissenters pronounced his strict adherence 
 to the ritual of the Church, Papistical — the 
 Romanists sneered at it as a concession. But, 
 regardless of remarks to the right or to the 
 left, Doctor Stanley worked on. 
 
 There was no exaggeration in his style, no 
 view to effect in his manner. He celebrated 
 the Christian seasons earnestly as they passed ; 
 and applied them as subjects for the reproof, 
 or profit, or comfort, of his flock ; not as occa- 
 sions of excitement. 
 
 With regard to those who differed from him, 
 he never forgot to make large allowance for 
 antecedent circumstances and influences : and, 
 warring only with principles, to persons of 
 whatever sect or party he was kind, courteous 
 and benevolent. His visits to the poor were 
 persevering, though for a length of time received 
 with a rude indifference which would have been 
 insolence but for that something in Doctor 
 Stanley's manner, which, inexplicably to them- 
 selves, overruled their very licence. Tolerant of 
 prejudices, and indulgent to ignorance, the 
 Doctor could be stern and severe on moral eviL
 
 264 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Fearlessly and unflinchingly he executed his 
 task. He threw in the seed abundantly, and in 
 patience awaited the harvest. 
 
 It was long before it came. Curiosity 
 attracted a few to the newly restored Church ; 
 but other influences soon drew them back. 
 Doctor Stanley's liberally bestowed charities 
 furnished another motive ; but he disdained to 
 bribe, and bestowed indiscriminately on all who 
 stood in need, recollecting that the whole of 
 Tilverton was his parish. Sometimes it did 
 occur to the suspicious operatives, to w^onder why 
 the parson was at so much trouble and cost ; 
 but they concluded that such unaccountable 
 conduct had some sinister motive connected with 
 the destruction of their independence. His 
 cheerfulness, and the unvarying urbanity of his 
 manner, never gave the idea that he was doing 
 anything disagreeable to himself. Nor was he \ 
 — for through every disappointment and dis- 
 couragement, he felt his High calling, and 
 rejoiced to be doing his Master's work. 
 
 Unfortunately Doctor Stanley was not mar- 
 ried. By this he lost the advantage of those 
 family links, which so often bring a clergyman
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 265 
 
 into nearer contact with parts of his flock. And, 
 after what we have said of the society of 
 Tilverton, it w411 readily be seen that social 
 intercourse was not to be found there for one 
 of his stamp. Not that he avoided the society 
 of the Tilvertonian magnates — on the contrary, 
 he was to be found wherever his presence could 
 be of use, or could confer comfort. But for his 
 own enjoyment, of course he sought society else- 
 where. Amongst his chosen friends were 
 Ernest and Helen Mainwaring, whose early 
 religious education he had, in a manner, superin- 
 tended, having held the curacy of Aliingham 
 during their early youth. And often in those 
 moments of dejection, which overtake at times 
 even the finest natures, he thought with a glow 
 of satisfaction of those first fruits of his labours. 
 On leaving Doctor Stanley's house, which 
 was close to the Church, you passed along the 
 dead wall, overhung with masses of ivy, which 
 bounded the Rectory garden ; and then through 
 a narrow thoroughfare, formed by weavers' 
 cottages, the sign of the Fox and Dack, and 
 a shop displaying for sale, candles, barley sugar 
 drops, cotton, and red herrings. Here the street
 
 266 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 was crossed by another alley of the same 
 description, and you came upon a long dead 
 wall, much higher than that of the Rectory, and 
 quite bare, and looking as nearly like a white- 
 washed wall as the Tilvertonian atmosphere 
 would allow it to do. The enclosure was 
 evidently a very large one, for the interior build- 
 ings did not approach the walls, except in one 
 part, where a kind of lodge formed the entrance. 
 There was, also, on the other side (the building 
 forming the angle of the intersecting streets), a 
 low door in the wall. From this portal, one 
 morning about this time, two men issued. 
 
 The first had a tall, slight, figure, which was all 
 that could be seen, since he immediately turned 
 away, and dashed round the corner of the inter- 
 secting street, which led out into the country. 
 His companion was of a different mould. Short 
 and supple in person, his slouching gait and 
 the peculiar cut of his attire suggested the idea 
 of a foreigner ; and the pale, yellowish face, with 
 its coal black eyes, and few stray locks of jetty 
 darkness, indicated the South as the probable 
 region of his birth. He looked young at the 
 first glance ; but every survey of his countenance
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 267 
 
 tended to increase your estimation of the number 
 of his years. He followed the course of the 
 Httle street, until it merged into the market 
 place ; and thence he proceeded, crossing the 
 open space, to thread his way through several 
 corresponding alleys in the opposite direction, 
 until he had nearly cleared the town. By this 
 time he had arrived opposite to the barracks, 
 the object, apparently, of his destination. He 
 enquired of a soldier v.'ho was busy rubbing 
 down his horse, whether he could see the com- 
 manding Officer. 
 
 The barracks were in a state of great con- 
 fusion, even for barracks, owing to the change 
 of troops which had occurred on the preceding 
 day ; and the open windows displayed a more 
 than ordinary quantity of the ragged parapher- 
 nalia of the wardrobe — of bright harness and 
 trappings, and of broken crockery. Scarlet 
 jackets leaned out here and there, engaged in 
 the noble occupation of watching the torments 
 of a Httle dog, which, unfortunately for itself, 
 had entered the area below. Dirty caps flitted 
 across the interiors — shrill voices sounded — bad 
 tobacco fumed through the air — and, on the
 
 268 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 whole, her Majesty*s — lancers seemed little 
 likely to improve the society of Tilverton. 
 
 The soldier addressed looked up at the 
 enquirer. And, apparently, very little satisfied 
 by his scrutiny as to the point at issue, namely, 
 the quality of the individual who addressed him 
 — (and it might have puzzled a wiser man than 
 the soldier), he answered, in a doubtful tone, 
 
 " Why, yes ! I shouldn't wonder if perhaps 
 you might." 
 
 The dark man proceeded to the officer's 
 quarters. He gained admission, and found 
 himself returning the somewhat supercilious bow 
 of Major Aubrey. 
 
 The Major was preparing for a ride — his 
 horse was already at the door, and his tight 
 fitting kids had clasped respectively the hat and 
 the riding whip. It was extremely provoking 
 that, at the moment of his visitor's stealthy, 
 cat-like entrance, the Major was engaged in a 
 profound study of his own person and attitudes 
 in a large dull looking-glass opposite. The 
 other had advanced some paces into the room 
 before the looking-glass betrayed him. Hastily 
 the Officer turned round, and, surveying the
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 269 
 
 intruder, made the supercilious acknowledgment 
 of his presence, aforesaid. 
 
 " Major Aubrey, I believe !" said the soft voice 
 of the visitor, with a foreign accent. 
 
 The Officer bowed an assent. 
 
 " You have the advantage of me ; I did not 
 see your card." 
 
 " No ! I did not send one," responded the 
 other, quietly. 
 
 " Perhaps, Sir, you will have the goodness to 
 state as soon as you can, what may be your 
 business with me !" said Major Aubrey in a 
 petulant tone, irritated by what he considered 
 the insolence of an inferior. 
 
 " Willingly ! but you seem in a hurry," 
 answered the same soft voice. 
 
 " I am prepared for riding, and have a long 
 distance to go." 
 
 " To Marwood ?" 
 
 The Major started. " Sir ! permit to ask how 
 my movements can be any concern of yours ?" 
 
 " Merely the interest of a friend," returned 
 the other. 
 
 " A friend ! I beg your pardon, Sir ! But 
 really this exceeds — "
 
 270 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Aubrey stopped short, expecting to see his 
 companion overwhelmed by his majestic 
 repulse. The foreigner, however, only smiled, 
 and said, 
 
 " You do not recollect me — and no wonder ! 
 but we have met before." 
 
 " Where ? when ? what do you mean ?" ex- 
 claimed the Officer. 
 
 " Do you wish me to tell you?" 
 
 " Of course ! And a truce to all this foolery !" 
 
 The stranger approached and whispered a 
 word in the Major's ear. " At — " 
 
 Aubrey turned deadly pale ; and the expres- 
 sion which left his lips was not fit for ears 
 polite. 
 
 The Italian, for such he was, stood with his 
 dark eyes fixed upon his victim, and once more 
 smiled that terrible smile. The other looked 
 up, and met his glance with one of hatred 
 and fear. 
 
 " Villain ! you want to ruin me !" 
 
 " Far from it. I am willing to aid your 
 plans." 
 
 " Aid ! — what plans ?" and again some terrible 
 apprehension seemed to seize the Officer.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 271 
 
 *' You are deeply and irrecoverably — " 
 
 " Hush ! — for Heaven's sake ! — Suppose it — 
 weU !" 
 
 " And Miss Bloomfield's fortune would save 
 you." 
 
 The Officer did not reply. Some little linger- 
 ing feeling of the gentleman restrained him from 
 laying bare before such eyes his own ignoble 
 motives, and of coupling the mention of a 
 lady whom he intended to honour by his 
 addresses, with transactions which he shrank 
 from naming. 
 
 He laid down his riding whip. 
 
 *' I will not detain you long from your visit," 
 said the Itahan, as he watched the motion. 
 " To judge by your general reputation for 
 success with the ladies, your suit must prosper." 
 
 The acute foreigner had touched the spring 
 that unlocked the Major's confidence. His 
 vanity could not resist the appeal. 
 
 " Why, certainly, in that respect, I have no 
 reason to complain. Few men less, I believe." 
 
 " Then you have made the conquest of the 
 heiress ?" 
 
 "Oh!— as to that — it is impossible to say.
 
 272 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 She is a little flirt, and too much in love with 
 herself to be in love with any body else." 
 
 " Then you will not disdain my assistance ?" 
 
 " Yours !" and Aubrey's countenance assumed 
 a look of disgust that was irrepressible. 
 
 " Mine, SIgnor 1 I can help you." The 
 Italian appeared unconscious of the look, and 
 his manner was smooth and courteous. " I 
 have influence with the heiress." 
 
 ^' Impossible I" said Major Aubrey, with a 
 kind of shudder. "You cannot have been 
 admitted into her society." 
 
 " You are polite, Signor ! — and your pene- 
 tration does you honour. Perhaps what you 
 say is true. Nevertheless, I have the ear of 
 Miss Bloomfield. I have but to say the word, 
 and your suit is hopeless." 
 
 The Major pondered for a few minutes. 
 Then his countenance assumed a bitter and 
 scornful smile. "And what terms do you 
 propose, as the price of your interest ? — for that, 
 I conclude, is your errand here." 
 
 " Oh ! we will talk of that another time. 
 But, be cautious, on this occasion ! A man 
 of your gallantry should never be thought to
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 273 
 
 fail — and, a second rejection would be fatal 
 to you." 
 
 " What can you possibly mean ?" said the 
 Major, superciliously. 
 
 "I allude to what all the world knows. The 
 refusal which Lady Estcourte accorded to a 
 former suit of yours." 
 
 "It is false ! she never refused a suit of mine. 
 — I have letters which prove that I never made 
 one." 
 
 *' Ah ! Signor ! — that signifies little. The 
 world believes you her rejected lover. And, 
 doubtless, Miss Bloomfield believes it too." 
 
 "I could have had Edith Sidney for the 
 asking. Does she dare to countenance such a 
 report ?" 
 
 " Lady Estcourte, I believe, has not denied 
 it." 
 
 "I will pay her when we meet'" said the 
 Officer, completely thrown off his guard. — "I 
 will shew her and the world, that there is httle 
 of the disappointed suitor in my feelings." 
 
 " Yoa will do well to resume an air of easy 
 intimacy. But these letters — are they hers or 
 yours ?" 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Major Aubrey went to a side table, and 
 unlocked a leather writing-case. He took out 
 a roll of papers which he held firmly between 
 his fingers. 
 
 " Chiefly mine. — I demanded and received 
 them back when — our acquaintance ceased. I 
 never dreamed of making a proposal of marriage, 
 but seeing that my intentions were misunder- 
 stood, I thought proper to terminate the 
 correspondence." 
 
 The dark eyes of his visitor fastened greedily 
 upon the papers : the unblushing assurance 
 with which Major Aubrey referred to them 
 seemed to have enhanced their value in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Those letters would make the fortune of 
 a friend of mine," placidly observed the 
 foreigner. 
 
 " Pray speak to the purpose, Sir ! — how are 
 they to serve mine?" impatiently answered 
 Aubrey. 
 
 " I have a friend, Signor — a gentleman who 
 made a large bet — (gentlemen, you know, 
 occasionally do such things) — and this bet is, on 
 what subject, do you think ? — The fact of your
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 275 
 
 rejection by Lady Estcourte, against which my 
 friend, for reasons of his own, has taken great 
 odds. The sight of those letters would be gold 
 to him." 
 
 " I cannot let them go out of my hands." 
 
 " They should be returned, of course. And, 
 now I think of it, I should require no other 
 recompense for the service I propose to render 
 yourself, than this slight favour to my friend," 
 
 Degraded as Major Aubrey felt himself, 
 some sense of honour remained, still. The 
 struggle was violent, humiliating, terrible. 
 
 " I cannot, as a gentleman, consent to this ;" 
 he said at length, with bitterness. 
 
 Another sarcastic smile crossed the Italian's 
 lips. " Retain them, if you please, Signor ! 
 My friend will lose his wager, and his adversary 
 will have the triumph of reporting at the clubs, 
 that the gallant Major Aubrey has received a 
 second dismissal." 
 
 The tempter had reserved his strongest 
 Veapon till last, and the master-passion con- 
 quered. Avarice, w^orldly interest, resentment, 
 had fought in vain against his lingering honour. 
 Vanity prevailed. 
 
 T 2
 
 276 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 "If I lend you the letters, how can they 
 prove the gentleman's right to his wager?" 
 said he, suddenly struck with the futility of the 
 pretext for borrowing them, yet loosing his hold 
 upon them. 
 
 " They will prove all we want, Signer — all — " 
 and the Itahan advanced to finger the coveted 
 prize. He named a day for restoring the papers, 
 and whilst the Major yet hesitated, his hands 
 were upon them. 
 
 " Your name, and address ? I must have that 
 first 1" said Aubrey. 
 
 At the same instant, a card was laid upon 
 the table by the Officer's servant. He was too 
 much engrossed to take it up. And, thus 
 unannounced. Doctor Stanley entered the room. 
 
 He had heard the concluding words : — there 
 was nothing in them to excite suspicion : — they 
 were of the most perfect common place. But 
 not so was the rush of blood which overspread 
 the Officer's countenance as he became conscious 
 of the entrance of a third person — nor ther 
 incoherency of his manner towards a gentleman 
 who was merely paying him a visit of etiquette. 
 
 After the first compliments, Doctor Stanley
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 277 
 
 turned and eyed the Italian. There was more 
 in his look than mere curiosity. Like all 
 Doctor Stanley's looks, words, and actions, it 
 seemed to spring from a motive. He saw the 
 roll of papers which, in the confusion of his 
 entrance, had been finally yielded to the 
 foreigner's grasp. He saw his dark eyes fixed 
 upon himself; and noted something like a little 
 curve of triumph about his lips. 
 
 " Signor !" said the man, " I will call again 
 when you are at liberty." He buttoned his 
 vest over the papers and glided from the room, 
 as he said this, with his peculiar, noiseless gait, 
 makins: the slightest obeisance in the world 
 to the Officer. 
 
 Major Aubrey was stunned. He was gone, 
 — and without leaving the means of trace or 
 recognition. Yet to pursue him — to retain the 
 papers — was to betray himself to Doctor 
 Stanley. He had been the dupe of a master- 
 spirit of intrigue. All that remained was to 
 put a face upon it. 
 
 "A crazy Italian ballad monger," he said, 
 " who wanted me to buy his doggrel songs." 
 
 Dr. Stanley was too entirely a gentleman
 
 278 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 not to accept the Major's explanation as he 
 chose to give it ; and at once he turned to other 
 subjects. But, owing to the state of perturbation 
 of his inner man, Aubrey was less agreeable 
 than his wont that morning. And, in less than 
 half an hour he found himself at liberty to pay 
 his proposed visit at Marwood»
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 279 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The ladies had exchanged morning visits, 
 as in duty bound. Helen Mainwaring had 
 seen Mrs. Grant ; and wondered that she should 
 have been able to create so general an interest, 
 as, from Helen's intercourse with Italian society, 
 she was aware had existed, for the forsaken 
 wife, on the scene of her husband's final 
 abandonment. And Blanche Estcourte had seen 
 Lady Armadale ; and no longer wondered that 
 she should have been able to captivate the taste, 
 and win the heart, of the man whom Blanche 
 loved well enough to justify his preference for 
 another. It was so natural, she said to herself, 
 that Ernest should yield to those charms of 
 grace and beauty, which his own refined nature
 
 280 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 taught him more particularly to appreciate. 
 And oh ! how happy Lady Armadale must be. 
 Blanche thought even her languor becoming, as 
 an evidence of the deep sentiment that reigned 
 within her heart, and of the subdued sense of 
 happiness consequent upon her position. 
 
 Love is a great magnifier of a rival's charms : 
 and an imaginative nature succumbs to the 
 influences of grace and beauty, in whatever form 
 they come. This was peculiarly exemplified 
 by the different estimation in which Helen 
 Mainwaring and Blanche Estcourte held the 
 Countess. Helen was conscious of her attrac- 
 tions, — admired them as she would those of a 
 picture, — valued them at just as much as they 
 were worth, and no more. Blanche, on the 
 contrary, w^as fascinated and dazzled — never once 
 suspected that the enchanting smile could cover 
 heartlessness, — that the caressing manner could 
 cloak a selfish nature — that the woman was 
 after all, a vapid, mindless, exquisitely finished 
 machine. Reality drew the picture in sharp 
 outlines for Helen — Romance shaded and blend- 
 ed it, and touched it into expression, for 
 Blanche.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 281 
 
 As to the two girls themselves, they made 
 little progress in intimacy. Helen was, strange 
 to say, much more captivated by Blanche, than 
 Blanche by her. Miss Estcourte felt a little 
 chilled by Helen's somewhat undemonstrative 
 manner ; and, w^hile struck with admiration of 
 her, she believed, with her usual humility, that 
 a character of so high a standard could have no 
 sympathy with her own. Helen, on the other 
 hand, accustomed to occupy herself more with 
 things than persons, had not that quick, intuitive 
 perception of the lights and shades w^hich 
 constitute human individuality, that so eminently 
 distinguished Lady Estcourte. And, in con- 
 sequence, while longing for Blanche's regard, 
 she missed for a time the means by which the 
 confidence of one so gentle could be won. 
 
 As for Lady Estcourte, she had read the 
 character of the Countess of Armadale with a 
 glance. But she also knew Ernest Mainwaring. 
 And — in spite of the now universally received 
 conviction of the neighbourhood, confirmed by 
 the Countess's presence at Alringham, as to the 
 engagement of the two — in spite of confirmation 
 afiPorded by Mrs. Grant, who, as Lady Armadale's
 
 282 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 friend and confidante^ appeared competent to 
 give some authority to the report — in spite of 
 her own observation that very sensible and 
 superior men often marry very frivolous and 
 silly women — Lady Estcourte continued to doubt. 
 
 There was to be a large dinner party at 
 Alringham, in which the inmates of the Priory 
 were included. On the morning of the day on 
 which it was to take place, Lady Estcourte had 
 proposed, for the amusement of Sir Perceval and 
 Mrs. Grant, an excursion to some distant point 
 of interest, which Sir Reginald had recommended 
 as worth the drive. Sir Perceval was enchanted 
 with the proposal — Mrs. Grant gave an abrupt 
 assent — and Blanche, who was looking very 
 pale, acquiesced in her own quiet way. Lady 
 Estcourte looked at her. 
 
 " My fear is, Blanche ! that the fatigue may 
 be too great for you." 
 
 " If so, dear Mamma ! you know I can stay at 
 home this evening." 
 
 " Oh no !" exclaimed Sir Perceval, ^^ pardon ! 
 but I must protest against that ! Let us rather 
 give up the drive altogether ! The ladies might 
 thank us this evening for leaving so much
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 283 
 
 beauty behind, but I can answer for it the 
 gentlemen would give us but a sorry welcome 
 if we made our appearance without the fair rose 
 of Charnwood — though we should still furnish 
 an ample quota of elegance and beauty to the 
 circle," and Sir Perceval made a slight inclination 
 towards Lady Estcourte. 
 
 Blanche coloured deeply. Edith smiled. 
 
 The truth was that Blanche, whose pallid 
 looks testified to the nervous fears she felt of 
 the evening, had been seeking for a pretext 
 to excuse her accompanying the party to Airing- 
 ham. She hoped Lady Estcourte's proposal 
 would save her — but her father interfered. 
 
 " Quite right, Sir Perceval ! We will not go 
 without our fair rose, as you are pleased to call 
 her. But, since she is a very white rose at 
 present, we must settle the difficulty by leaving 
 her at home this morning. She has often seen 
 the rocks, and will have no loss but that of our 
 society. Will that arrangement suit you, 
 Lancey ?" 
 
 "Thank you, papa ! You are very kind," and 
 Blanche's hopes vanished. 
 
 " We only are the losers by the arrangement," 
 said Sir Perceval.
 
 284 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 And when he had added a few more words 
 of regret and remonstrance, the affair was 
 settled. The party started, after some arrange- 
 ment of details, taking Flora in her sister's 
 place. And Blanche was, as she believed, left 
 at home alone. 
 
 She did not witness their departure. But, 
 some hours afterwards, she was summoned from 
 the hermitage, w^here she had been quietly and 
 happily reading the much talked of bookj by 
 the announcement that Lord St. Ormonde was 
 in the drawing-room, and had enquired for her. 
 
 Blanche had not seen him since the posting 
 of that long delayed and fated letter — she had not 
 even heard from him. It was now more than 
 a week since. She had begun to cherish hopes 
 that the letter had done its work. This visit 
 alarmed her. But, after all, he might only wish 
 to terminate their foolish engagement by a 
 friendly interview. She would assume as much, 
 and try to meet him fearlessly. 
 
 She entered the room. Lord St. Ormonde 
 was standing on the hearth rug, engaged in 
 vigorously pulling a rose to pieces. He heard 
 the first click of the door as she opened it, and, 
 in an instant, was by her side.
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 285 
 
 *' Blanche !" 
 
 " I hope you are better, Lord St. Ormonde !'* 
 said the young girl, kindly, but not tenderly. 
 She held out her hand as she spoke, and felt 
 the convulsive clasp of those nervous, attenuated, 
 fingers, upon her own. His hand trembled 
 violently as it grasped hers. He began to speak, 
 — but a low cough checked his articulation for 
 some moments. 
 
 " Will you not sit down ?" said she, hoping 
 that the change might relieve him. And she 
 attempted to withdraw her hand, but he retained 
 it firmly, and, seating himself on a sofa, placed 
 her beside him. 
 
 " Blanche !" he said again, and the tone 
 thrilled to her heart — " how could you write that 
 letter ?" 
 
 He fixed his bright, glass-like eyes upon her, 
 and the young girl's fell beneath that look. 
 
 " I did what I thought was right, St. Or- 
 monde ! I told the truth." 
 
 " The truth !— Blanche ! It cannot be. Re- 
 nounce it ! — now ! — instantly ! Recal what you 
 said ! Say you do not hate me. Say — oh ! say 
 — you will be mine !"
 
 286 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 " 1 do not hate you. But oh ! Lord St. 
 Ormonde, if you knew my suffering, you would 
 in pity set me free ! I have acted wrongly, 
 foolishly — I know it. But be generous ! — for- 
 give that one moment of weakness, and release 
 me!" 
 
 " You do hate me, then ! It is false to say 
 you do not ! — cruel, cold-hearted girl !" And 
 the young nobleman passionately flung her hand 
 away from him. "And I — and I — oh, Blanche! 
 — Blanche ! — I love you more than my very 
 heart's blood \" 
 
 He buried his face in the cushions, and big, 
 heavy, sobs shook his frame. 
 
 Blanche rose from the sofa, and placed her- 
 self kneeling at his feet. 
 
 " St. Ormonde, for Heaven's sake be calm ! 
 St. Ormonde ! your very life may depend upon 
 it. Hear me ! I will not — dare not — take my 
 promise back unless you give it. You think 
 me unkind — but oh ! St. Ormonde, I know too 
 well what you are feeling — and from my heart 
 I pity you. But with men these emotions pass 
 away in time. You have the power of making 
 me your most grateful friend to my hfe's end,
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 287 
 
 or of insisting upon my becoming your reluctant, 
 though I trust, dutiful, wife. Take your choice ! 
 But for the last time, I ask you — by the me- 
 mory of our childish play-hours — ^by our friend- 
 ship of years — by your own sense of honour — 
 by the love you say you bear me — I entreat — I 
 beseech you ! — on my knees, I conjure you ! — not 
 to condemn me to a life where duty and feeling 
 must ever be at variance !" 
 
 Lord St. Ormonde had raised his head from 
 the pillows. He had contemplated the pale, 
 earnest, supplicating figure at his feet, with an 
 expression of blank dismay, and a countenance 
 wan as her own. Suddenly the brilliant hectic 
 rushed back to the cheek — the dazzling lustre 
 to the eye. He rose, quivering with passion. 
 
 " I see — I see it all ! False hypocrite ! You 
 love another !" 
 
 In an instant the accusation told. Face, brow, 
 neck, and even lingers, were suffused w^ith deep 
 crimson. For a moment Blanche knelt there, 
 looking the guilty thing convicted. The next, 
 she rose, and silently resumed her place upon 
 the sofa. 
 
 Then the storm of indignation burst forth.
 
 288 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 Lord St. Ormonde paced the room with hasty 
 strides, gathering passion as he moved. Vows 
 of hatred and revenge came strangely mixed 
 with sudden gushes of tenderness. The hot 
 tears, which would force themselves, were dashed 
 away in scorn ; and only the deep, hollow cough 
 occasionally arrested the wild, reckless torrent of 
 bitterness. Blanche sat, paralysed with terror, 
 less for herself then for him. 
 
 " I might have known — I might have seen 
 — how it would end ! Women are all alike ! — 
 heartless, perfidious, ungrateful, gloating on the 
 misery they inflict — incapable of truth or ho- 
 nour ! — And she has loved another ! She has let 
 him hear from her lips those words which I 
 would have given worlds to listen to ! Blanche! 
 you shall not be his wife ! I claim your pro- 
 mise ! — I claim your faith ! — If I drag you to the 
 altar you shall be mine ! Oh ! Blanche ! 
 Blanche ! he does not — cannot — love you as I 
 do ! He can live without you — he will neglect, 
 despise you — and my death will be avenged ! — 
 for I will not live to see you another man's wife ! 
 Do you hear me ? Blanche ! will you be my 
 murderess ?"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 289 
 
 He stopped before her as he said this, and 
 fixed his eyes upon her with an expression which 
 was fearful to behold. His face was flushed, 
 and his whole frame trembled. Almost stunned 
 by the violence of his words and manner, 
 Blanche made an effort to turn the tide of 
 frenzy. 
 
 " I told you in my letter, St. Ormonde ! — and 
 I tell you once again ! — that you will never see 
 me the wife of another ! More I cannot say." 
 
 He seized both her hands, and pressed them 
 to his heart. The dark flush left his cheeks, 
 and the flickering hectic went and canae. He 
 sank upon the sofa, panting and exhausted. 
 
 Blanche quickly fetched water. She gave 
 him other restoratives. In a short time, 
 apparently soothed by Jher attentions, the 
 young nobleman revived : and nature was 
 relieved by a burst of soft, genial tears. 
 
 He looked up into Blanche's agitated coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " I have distressed you ! I have been a 
 savage ! Can you ever forgive me, Blanche ? — 
 Yes ! you will ! for you have been like an angel 
 tending me all this time. Oh ! Blanche ! how 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 happy we might be if it were always so ! If you 
 were near me, I should be well and strong, and 
 this foolish, troublesome, cough would soon be 
 frightened away. It is a mere nothing, and I 
 should forget it, if I had you to make a heaven 
 on earth for me. Do not look so serious, 
 Blanche ! — nor sigh ! I only mean that we may 
 be so happy ! — so very happy ! — since you do 
 not love another." 
 
 And with all the delusive sanguineness of his 
 insidious malady, the young nobleman passed on 
 to glowing anticipations of an interminable 
 future. 
 
 It was useless, perhaps dangerous, to attempt 
 to stem the torrent. And Blanche herself 
 had been too much terrified to venture upon 
 another effort. She saw that she was misun- 
 derstood, yet she dared not to remonstrate. 
 Every struggle which she had made against the 
 fierce waves of her destiny, seemed but to have 
 plunged her deeper into the abyss. 
 
 Lord St. Ormonde was perusing her coun- 
 tenance. " Blanche 1" he suddenly exclaimed, 
 " do you know what you look like now ? you 
 are the living counterpart of my St. Cecilia !"
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 291 
 
 " Do you know her history, St. Ormonde?" 
 
 " How should I ? * What's Hecuba to me ?— 
 &c' I never looked at the picture till you copied 
 it — never valued it — as to-day." 
 
 " Mr. Vivian could give you an account of 
 her." 
 
 " Vivian ! Yes, I daresay. He knows every 
 thing except — except our secret. For the love 
 of Heaven, Blanche ! keep that from him till it 
 is beyond his power. I would rather have all 
 the furies hissing at me than endure Vivian's 
 cold, stern, look whenever I pronounce your 
 name !" 
 
 " From him, yes ! But oh ! St. Ormonde — 
 not from my dear father ! — not from my kind — 
 my father's wife !" 
 
 " From them ! — from all ! — if you would not 
 kill me !" and again Lord St. Ormonde was 
 growing excited. He rose suddenly, as if to 
 avoid further importunity, seized her hand, and 
 pressed his burning lips upon it — then mur- 
 mured low, 
 
 " My life is in your hands. — Farewell !" 
 
 Before she could reply, he had left the room. 
 
 For some minutes Blanche sat like one 
 
 u 2
 
 292 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 bewildered, endeavouring to recover composure 
 after this strange scene, and inwardly praying 
 for strength to bear her bitter trial. She 
 longed for counsel, for support. She had acted 
 according to her own view of right, and she 
 had failed. Had she, then, been right? Oh ! 
 for some one to decide for her ! 
 
 In her want of self-reliance, she had almost 
 been persuaded, as she witnessed Lord St. 
 Ormonde's anguish, that she had been the 
 culprit, — that he owed his suffering to her, and 
 that, at whatever cost, she must sacrifice herself 
 to make reparation. His parting words sounded 
 ominous, — they echoed all her worst fears. 
 
 Had her step-mother, or Helen Mainwaring 
 been her confidante, she would have stript the 
 case of its specious, though false covering of 
 duty, remorse and pity, and led her to the 
 conviction that self-immolation is not, except 
 in those cases which admit of no doubt, an 
 acceptable offering to the Creator. But 
 Blanche's first error had left her without the 
 solace of confidential friendship; and in this, 
 her hour of weakness, the tempter was at hand. 
 
 She bethought herself of a book which had
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 293 
 
 often furnished her mind with a resting place. 
 She went towards the oriel to look for it. On 
 a sudden she stood still, petrified, astounded ! 
 Something like a cry escaped her lips. There, — 
 in the wdndow of the recess, — occupied in the 
 knitting which seemed a part of herself — still, 
 motionless, passive — sat Mrs. Grant ! 
 
 Before the arrival of Sir Perceval and his 
 daughter-in-law, Blanche had been, as we saw, 
 much affected by Mrs. Grant's story, and 
 disposed to offer to her all the interest and 
 sympathy of which her tender nature was so 
 capable. But when they met. Miss Estcourte 
 felt that somehow Mrs. Grant did not answer 
 to her vision of the poor, heart-broken wife, 
 patient in suffering — exalted by sorrow. Mrs. 
 Grant was melancholy enough, certainly, for her 
 wan, haggard face never, by any chance, relaxed 
 into a smile ; her voice never lost the tone of 
 discontent and repining. Yet there seemed in 
 her melancholy some tinge of moroseness and of 
 selfishness. She never gave that proof of a 
 heart chastened by suffering — she never pitied 
 others. No calamity, no sorrow, drew from her 
 any expression of sympathy — nothing but the
 
 294 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 slight, mocking laugh, in which neither joy nor 
 grief had any share. It was true that she 
 seemed dead to all the interests of life, reserved 
 and taciturn, avoiding conversation, and never 
 proffering a remark. But even in sorrow the 
 eye will occasionally betray intelligence — the 
 countenance will light up with expression. 
 Mrs. Grant's features never varied. She either 
 did not hear, or did not comprehend, the sub- 
 jects which were canvassed in her presence. 
 
 Fearful of w^ounding her feelings, Blanche 
 had hardly ventured to approach the theme of 
 her relations with her husband, — but Mrs. 
 Grant's manner soon dispelled her scruples. A 
 few deep and passionate words shewed that 
 indeed love existed still, and with the intensity 
 of a smouldering fire. But there was 
 something in her manner of speaking of him, 
 and in the circumstances on w^hich she dw^elt, 
 which wounded Blanche's sense of delicacy. 
 And she, at last, awoke to the consciousness, 
 which Lady Estcourte had acquired by ten 
 minutes' intercourse, that the much pitied Mrs. 
 Grant was a woman of coarse and vulgar mind. 
 
 Still she luas to be pitied — for she loved and 
 
 !
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 295 
 
 was forsaken. And it was not in the nature 
 of either Lady Estcourte or her step-daughter to 
 resist such a claim upon their sympathy and 
 kindness. They had accordingly used every 
 effect to soothe and divert her. But it must 
 he very evident to the reader, that Mrs Grant 
 would have been the last person whom Blanche 
 would have selected as the confidante of her 
 engagement with Lord St. Ormonde. 
 
 " You are not gone to Hadleigh !" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " But, Mrs. Grant ! how could you ?" — 
 Blanche stopped short, and recollected that 
 Mrs. Grant was a guest. — " I mean" she said, 
 " that I was not aware that you were in the 
 turret room." 
 
 " No. I suppose not." 
 
 " Mrs. Grant !" — and Blanche coloured 
 violently — "you have heard what was not 
 intended for your ears, and you know w4iat I 
 never should have told you ! All that you can 
 do is to promise me secrecy." 
 
 The httle laugh came. " What are your
 
 296 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 secrets to me, child? Do you think I care 
 about your lovers ?" 
 
 " It matters not. Give me the promise !" 
 
 " Oh, readily ! And do you mean to marry 
 that mad lover of yours ?" 
 
 *^What can T do?" and it must be con- 
 fessed that Blanche was almost glad to profit 
 by even Mrs. Grant's casuistry — though so 
 entirely unsought. 
 
 " I could easily tell you." 
 
 "Do you mean that you could tell me how 
 to avoid becoming St. Ormonde's wife ?" 
 
 " Of course !" 
 
 " But without sinning against conscience and 
 right feeling?" 
 
 *' Oh ! yes 1" and again the little laugh 
 resounded. 
 
 " Mrs. Grant ! — for Heaven's sake, tell me 
 what you mean !" 
 
 " No — not now." 
 
 " Why will you not explain yourself ? Ypu 
 know how miserable this entanglement makes 
 me ; and you have heard how fruitless are all 
 my efforts to free myself."
 
 THE SECOND WIFE. 297 
 
 " Yes ! I heard. But the time is not vet 
 
 come." 
 
 "When wiUitbe?" 
 
 For the first time the pale, sallow, woman 
 Hfted up her large black eyes, and fixed them 
 upon Blanche. " When you cannot bear your 
 misery a m.oir.ent longer — then come to me, 
 and I will tell you how to escape." 
 
 Blanche looked at her with perplexity. 
 " You ! — who have suffered so much yourself ! — 
 is it possible you can have no feeling for 
 me ?" 
 
 Once again sounded that unnatural, revoking 
 laugh. " Feeling I — what should I feel for ! Is 
 it so dreadful to be engaged to marry a 
 Lord ?" 
 
 Blanche turned away. She was sorry that, 
 confiding in the sympathy of woman for woman, 
 she had committed herself thus far in conver- 
 sation with one who could not understand her. 
 The confidence had, however, been forced upon 
 her : and as Blanche reflected on the meanness 
 which had made Mrs. Grant a silent listener 
 to a scene in which she yet professed herself 
 totally uninterested, she was more and more 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 298 THE SECOND WIFE. 
 
 perplexed as to the character of her visitor. 
 Her vague and yet confident proposal of a 
 means by which she could extricate Blanche 
 from her present position, added to the mystery 
 which surrounded all that Mrs. Grant said 
 and did. Miss Estcourte began almost to fear 
 her. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.