\ 
 
ROSINA, 9- 
 
 THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. ^ 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
LIBRARY 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 

 ROSIN A 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID: 
 
 BEING 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 THE MARCHIONESS OE REMINGTON. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF, 
 
 TO WARN HEE OWN SEX BY SHOWING THE DANGEES 
 ATTENDING STJPEEIOE BEAUTY IN FEMALES OF 
 HUMBLE BANK, AND THE SECUEITY AND HAPPINESS 
 IMPAETED BY VIETUE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 WILLIAM NICHOLSON AND SONS, 
 
 20, WARWICK SQUARE, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 
 
 -CO- 
 
Oc^y/ 
 
 (^ 73 / ' 
 
 Hth ; 
 
 ADDRESS. 
 
 T HE life of every human being, if faithfully re- 
 lated, would be interesting ; for the actions of 
 rational beings, in the common relations of life, 
 demonstrate irresistibly the mischievous conse- 
 quences of vice and folly. In the same manner, 
 the attractive graces of virtue are displayed in the 
 most beautiful colours. Biography is pregnant 
 with instruction and amusement of the highest 
 order ; but the life of a person circumstanced like 
 the Marchioness of Lemington must be peculiarly 
 interesting. It exhibits the most trying temptations 
 to which a female can be exposed, and shows how 
 the most heroic virtue may be combined with deli- 
 cacy and feeling. The amiable motives that ac- 
 tuated her ladyship, it* giving these memoirs to the 
 world, will be best explained by the following let- 
 ter, which she wrote a few months before her 
 decease : — 
 
 ‘TO JAMES WOODHALL. ESQ.. 
 
 ‘ Florence , April 15, 1816. 
 
 * My dear Sir, 
 
 4 After spending the winter at Naples, I have just 
 returned to this fine city. The pure, delicious air of 
 Italy cannot impart immortality to mortals. The motion 
 of this wonderful machine is gradually becoming weaker 
 and more irregular : and I feel as if I would soon sink 
 tranquilly into my last, long sleep. But I have lived 
 happily, — hope divine beams upon my soul,— my best 
 beloved friends have departed in peace, — and why should 
 I be reluctant to follow them ? 
 
 I I 50428 
 
6 
 
 ADDRESS. 
 
 4 About fifty-five years ago I left my humble paternal 
 roof, and underwent such a series of trials and sufferings 
 as very few have been destined to experience ; but which 
 terminated in as complete a state of happiness as per- 
 haps a poor mortal is capable of enjoying. The tongues 
 that flattered me are now mouldering into dust,— my en- 
 vied beauty has decayed, and my youthful vivacity has 
 been succeeded by matronal gravity ; but the grand 
 maxim of my conduct remains unchanged. That ‘ the 
 paths of virtue are the paths of happiness ’ is a truth as 
 permanent as the everlasting mountains. Oh : that I 
 could keep the eyes of my sex steadily fixed on this grand 
 polar star through the voyage of life : then, even at their 
 last hbur, the pillow of peace would kiss their cheek. 
 
 ‘ In order to contribute my share in effecting this de- 
 sirable object, I desire that you will preserve the accom- 
 panying little packet until after my decease, when I ear- 
 nestly hope you will put it into the hands of some one 
 who can give its contents the widest circulation. I do 
 not wish that my Memoirs should be published in an 
 expensive, splendid form, as I do not design them so 
 much for the drawing-room as the cottage. The daugh- 
 ters of the rich have many instructors, guardians, 
 friends ; but the poor country girl is too often exposed to 
 the most seductive temptations, and left to struggle alone 
 in the midst of the severest trials. For the use of such I 
 have written what I have written. 
 
 ‘When printed, have the goodness to send a copy to 
 my dear niece, the Baroness Carillo, of Milan : — she will 
 get it translated into Italian ; and the work may be also 
 of use here. Receive, my dear sir, my blessing ; and, 
 believe, me, I shall never forget your stern and manly 
 
 virtues. 
 
 Remington. 
 
ROSIN A; 
 
 OR, THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 §[tf^IRTUE alone imparts merit. From my 
 pJi Jra earliest infancy this truth has been deeply 
 impressed upon my mind; yet I cannot, 
 
 ? even now, without extreme reluctance, own 
 my extraction. I suppose that this vanity 
 arises from the fear of being lowered in the 
 estimation of persons of rank, whose preju- 
 dices it is improper to flatter. But I sometimes 
 forget that the present opulent and dignified Mar- 
 chioness of Lemington, was originally no other than 
 Rosina, daughter of John Hawkins, wood-cutter in 
 Sherwood Forest. 
 
 To this humble person I owe my origin. My 
 mother was lady’s maid to Viscountess Neville, near 
 whose castle stands the cottage in which I first 
 drew breath. My father was gardener to the vis- 
 count when my mother fell in love with him ; and 
 her passion overpowering the lady’s remonstrances, 
 whe destined her a better provision, she married. 
 My father, who was a stout, handsome man, felt 
 affronted at the opposition to his marriage, and left 
 his place. This act prevented him from getting 
 another situation : he was obliged to relinquish his 
 profession, and to become wood-cutter in the ad- 
 joining forest. I was the first-fruit of their mar- 
 riage; and as their mutual affection triumphed 
 over their poverty, my birth seemed to indicate 
 happier days. 
 
8 
 
 kosina; oe. 
 
 My mother having been a confidant of the vis- 
 countess, prevented a total separation. Nay, she was 
 soon taken into favour again, was allowed a cottage 
 and small garden rent-free, received many useful 
 presents, and the viscountess did her the honour to 
 name me, and to stand godmother, and prevailed 
 on the Earl of Glenford, who was at the castle on 
 a visit, to become godfather. 
 
 My mother, who had lived a few years with the 
 viscountess in London, had acquired some experi- 
 ence of the world, which was of great service in 
 my education. She was very shrewd, could discri- 
 minate characters with nicety, and had an excel- 
 lent memory. Often have I listened with breath- 
 less attention to the numerous and interesting 
 anecdotes which she related concerning people in 
 high rank, and which were intended to imbue my 
 mind with sentiments of virtue and discretion. She 
 tried to impress religious feelings upon my mind ; 
 and she earnestly directed my love and confidence 
 towards the beneficent Father of the universe. 
 
 Our family increased : a brother, a sister, and 
 myself, spent our childhood in doing my father little 
 services in his business. The delicate health of my 
 mother hindered her from attending my father to 
 the forest, whither my brother and sister went 
 every day. I generally stayed at home with my 
 mother, and I had to carry their dinner. This my 
 brother and sister considered as my mother’s par- 
 tiality to me, and their ill-natured complaints were 
 often seconded by my father. Want and hard 
 labour tend to depress the mind ; while my father, 
 perhaps, secretly repented of having chosen a wo- 
 man whose delicate health and refined notions ren- 
 dered her an unfit helpmate for a hardy woodman. 
 
 To avoid bitter reproach, I often wandered 
 amongst the sublime recesses of the forest. My 
 youthful imagination was always captivated, in a 
 still evening, by the silent and sacred charm which 
 at that period pervades the forest glades. Often, 
 also, at night, have I sat on the camomile seat in 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 
 
 9 
 
 oar little garden, contemplating the silver radiance 
 of the moon, and the sparkling brightness of the 
 stars. Yet I knew nothing of poetry, or of culti- 
 vated taste. 
 
 At the age of fourteen I began to set some value 
 on my own little person. I was sent one day with 
 honey to her ladyship at the castle. She presented 
 me, as her god-daughter, to a gentleman richly 
 dressed. He appeared surprised, and exclaimed, 
 ‘ Heavens ! how handsome she is ; She will prove 
 a beauty : — what eyes, madam, when enlivened 
 with love !’ — •* Take care what you say,’ replied the 
 viscountess ; ‘ she will too soon become acquainted 
 with things of this nature. Go, Rosina, don’t mind 
 him : he says as much to every one he meets.’ I 
 blushed and gladly withdrew. 
 
 My head ran very much upon what the fine gen- 
 tleman had said. ‘ What can he mean,’ thought 1 
 to myself, * by saying my eyes will be, I know not 
 what, when enlivened with love V This love per- 
 plexed me. I fain would have met with it, to try 
 its effect on my eyes. Neither simplicity of man- 
 ners, nor tenderness of age, are proof against vanity : 
 girls are ever apt to think themselves handsome ; 
 and whoever praised my beauty was sure to please 
 roe. 
 
 Returning from the wood one day, I perceived a 
 company of horsemen coming towards me. Hear- 
 ing that the king was in the neighbourhood,-! hoped 
 now to see him. The viscountess had been at his 
 majesty’s coronation a few months before ; and 
 her ladyship’s maid had drawn such an enchanting 
 picture of the king’s person, his superb robes, and 
 splendid court, that I was much excited. His 
 majesty, I thought could be easily distinguished 
 from his attendants. When the horsemen ap- 
 proached, I looked in vain for the king, whom I 
 imagined must be covered with gold from head to 
 foot. When they were nearly past, I ran up to one 
 of the company, and anxiously begged he would 
 show me the king, whom I never had seen in my 
 
10 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 life. £ With all my heart, pretty maid,’ answered 
 the nobleman. ‘ That is he.’ — ‘ Which, sir ?’ cried 
 I. — ‘ Give me your hand,’ said the nobleman ; then, 
 pointing with it, * That is he who makes so grand 
 an appearance on the white horse.’ — ‘ Yes, yes, it 
 is the king !’ I cried out, transported, ‘ Good God ! 
 how handsome he is ! How happy I should be if 
 he did not go so fast ! Oh dear ! he is gone already !’ 
 The nobleman smiled, and viewing me with atten- 
 tion, said, ‘ She is a lovely creature.’ Then ad- 
 dressing me, he continued, ‘ Where do you live, my 
 pretty dear P’ — ‘ In yonder village,’ answered I, 
 pointing to it. — ‘ Will you give me leave to come 
 and see you ?’ — ‘ If it depended upon me, sir,’ an- 
 swered I, ‘ your visit would not be disagreeable to 
 me; but I am not my own mistress.’ ‘Let me 
 contrive it,’ replied he ; ‘ you shall have no blame.’ 
 Just at this moment, one of the company came gal- 
 loping back, calling out, ‘ The king waits for you, 
 my lord.’ Then, eyeing me, he exclaimed, ‘Oh! 
 what a fine girl !’ and offered me his hand ; but, in- 
 timidated at the boldness of his manner, I pretend- 
 ed to take no notice of him, when he prepared to 
 alight. This put me in such a consternation, that 
 I took to my heels towards the village. ‘ Stay, stay, 
 my pretty girl,’ cried the gentleman, ‘ nobody de- 
 signs you any harm.’ My mother perceived that 
 something had occurred, and she would be acquaint- 
 ed with it, and I told her all. 
 
 ‘ I am willing to excuse your curiosity,’ said she, 
 ‘ for his sake who caused it : another time be more 
 upon your guard : for the future, mind that you 
 are never dazzled with empty show and the dis- 
 course of men. Ah! Rosina, you have given your 
 eyes too much liberty ; whereas in regard of men 
 you ought not to have any. Their praises are just- 
 ly to be suspected, as they always tend to promote 
 their designs. Remember this.’ 
 
 A neighbour happening to come in upon us, pre- 
 vented my making a reply, which increased my un- 
 easiness, and caused many reflections. I resolved 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 11 
 
 to be more reserved with my mother. Great cau- 
 tion should be used in the education of youth, lest 
 in giving instructions they be taught those things 
 to which they cannot be too great strangers, as it 
 happened in this very case. I thought slightly of 
 the compliments passed upon me by the courtiers ; 
 but my mother’s admonitions renewed those be- 
 witching ideas, and a new pleasure arose on recall- 
 ing them to mind. 
 
 I had great perplexity of mind, my usual amuse- 
 ments became insipid, and nothing occupied my 
 thoughts but the gaudy appearance of the court : 
 our clownish neighbours created a loathing, though 
 they had been agreeable enough ; particularly a 
 wood-monger’s son, who had made some advances 
 towards gainingmy affections. Robert Danbywas 
 6trong and athletic, remarkably neat in his dress, 
 and had good manners. He neglected no opportu- 
 nity of showing his respect ; and as I was fond of 
 flowers, he often presented me with nosegays ; but 
 I had no sooner seen the nobleman in the forest, 
 than farewell Robert. 
 
 The nobleman’s expressions were never out of 
 my mind. Young as I was, I entertained them 
 with a secret satisfaction : I even repeated to my- 
 self his words. Now four days were elapsed since 
 my agitating adventure, when, being at church, I 
 heard some horses stop at the door. Looking back, 
 heavens ! who should I see but my flatterer him- 
 self, entering so gracefully as quite charmed me, 
 and drew the attention of the whole assembly on 
 him. He presently discovered me, though in the 
 midst of the crowd. It was evident he was a per- 
 son of great distinction ; for the vicar bowed to 
 him. My eyes were rivetted on the stranger, and 
 I felt transported with the deference paid to his 
 quality. 
 
 On retiring after service, the nobleman whisper- 
 ed something to his valet. Then raising his voice, 
 ‘ Stay in the village,’ said he, ‘ till my retinue comes 
 up: — I intend to dine at the castle.’ His groom 
 
12 ROSINA; or, 
 
 was leading his horse before the church. He vault- 
 ed into the saddle, and rode off in a gallop. The 
 girls, as we tripped homewards, descanted on the 
 fine manners and gracefulness of courtiers. But I 
 was silent, my mind being filled with jealous fear3 
 of the young ladies who might be that day dining 
 at the castle. While my careless companions were 
 chatting, the valet came up and joined our party. 
 He soon gained the confidence of the girls, by tell- 
 ing them that he had been brought up a country 
 lad, had worked hard in his youth, and owed his 
 advancement entirely to the goodness of his master. 
 He had a paper in his hand, which by a sign he 
 made, I saw was intended for me, and he gave it 
 unperceived by the company. I was no soonei 
 withdrawn, than I found myself at a loss upon 
 opening the letter ; my mother, it is true, taught 
 me to read; but I was a stranger to writing. At 
 first I thought of applying to the schoolmaster of 
 the village; but this was running too great a 
 hazard. There was but one expedient I could de- 
 vise. It was to apply to Bobert, who could both 
 read and write. 
 
 I soon met Bobert hastening along with a pres- 
 ent of flowers, which I accepted with a trembling 
 emotion that heightened the beauty of my features. 
 * Oh ! you are handsome to-day, my lovely Bosnia,’ 
 said poor Bobert ; ‘ faith ! you beat all the girls 
 hollow. It is no wonder that your shape haunts 
 me, go wherever I will. Aye, it is a fine one,’ tak- 
 ing me about the waist. — ‘ Bobert, be quiet,’ I cried ; 
 4 can’t you speak but your hands must be employed ?' 
 — ‘ Odzooks ! I am to blame,’ answered Bobert. — 
 ‘ Bobert, you must do me a kindness.’ — ‘ I’ll do you 
 fifty,’ exclaimed he ; ‘ what is it P’ — ■* Let us first 
 get behind yon copse,’ replied I, ‘ that we may talk 
 without being observed.’ — ‘ What a happy fellow I 
 am !’ said Bobert : ‘ Ah ! Bosina, how I love you ! 
 and now I see you begin to make some return. It’s 
 true you have not a groat ; but what of that ? It 
 is not money that makes people happy. You are 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 13 
 
 pretty and good- tempered, and that is fortune 
 enough. 4 Will you promise me to keep a secret, 
 and do not be curious?’ — 4 Well,’ answered Robert, 
 
 4 1 would give you my bond, if my word was not as 
 good. 4 Yesterday I catch’ d Matthews wife and 
 great George in a corner : she made me promise 
 not to tell her husband. Adsniggers ! there would 
 be fine work if I could not keep a secret.’ — 4 1 must 
 acquaint you that a friend of mind has received a 
 letter ; but as she cannot read, she has employed 
 me to know of you the contents.’— 4 Let’s see,’ said 
 Robert, taking it out of my hand, 4 that is soon 
 done. Is it not from the gentleman who walked 
 from church this morning with the lasses 
 4 Right,’ answered I, glad to find him on a wrong 
 scent. — 4 1 am glad of it. I was a little ruffled to 
 see him so busy. I began to think he might have 
 a design upon you.’— 4 There you would have been 
 quite out,’ answered I, 4 for he never so much as 
 spoke a single word to me.’ — 4 That I am sensible 
 of,’ replied Robert, 4 for I took care not to be far off. 
 But I wish him well since it is so ; otherwise, for 
 all his finery, I would have made him know what 
 is to tread upon people’s heels. Saying this, he 
 read as follows : — 
 
 *To R. H. 
 
 * This is the only method left me to acquaint you, my 
 charming creature, with the deep impression you made 
 on my heart the first moment we met. I was in hopes 
 of seeing you again at the same place, and have been 
 continually on horseback in quest of that happiness. 
 At last, I thought of your parish church, where I might 
 possibly see you. I shall not speak to you at present, 
 but will order matters so as to do it without being ob- 
 served. Be not wanting, my dear girl, on your part, to 
 assist in what I shall contrive hereafter for your service. 
 It is impossible to express how much I love you. ' L.* 
 
 I listened to what Robert read with the greatest 
 attention ; I even made him repeat it several times, 
 and felt a satisfaction I never experienced before. 
 To be beloved by so noble a person was a bewitch- 
 ing thing for a country girl. Robert, who easily 
 
14 
 
 ROSINA J OR, 
 
 observed me, cried out, 1 Why, Bosina, this letter 
 makes you thoughtful. Gad ! if it should be really 
 
 go, I would tear it ’ ‘O ! I am thinking,’ said 
 
 I, ‘ of my friend ; she must be very happy to have 
 such a person in love with her.’ — ‘ And who is this 
 B. H. that is so charming a creature ?’ asked Bo- 
 bert . — i Why, Bebecca Hewit, to be sure,’ said I, 
 with sharpness . — 1 Aye, the girl’s well enough : but 
 who is L ?' — £ Now, Bobert,’ I replied, ‘ you are 
 going to break your promise, and be too curious. 
 How should I know anything about L ? If great 
 folks will not spell their names out, what have we 
 to do with it ‘ Very true,’ replied Bobert : ‘ why, 
 as Becky has been so lucky as to catch a gentleman, 
 I would advise her not to stand so shilly shally , and 
 be too coy. 
 
 ‘ Now, Bobert, I must go and tell my friend the 
 contents of her letter, and know what answer she 
 will give. I will be with you presently, and bring 
 pen and ink for you to write the answer. Will 
 you, Bobert ?’ ‘ There’s no need for such a hurry/ 
 said he. — ‘ Well, well, Bobert/ I replied, ‘ we shall 
 have opportunities enough. Adieu. I am under 
 a promise ; and a maid, you know, must keep her 
 word.’ 
 
 I rose and went to a warren, which had a retired 
 place in one corner, I there threw myself on the 
 grass, and run over the letter in my mind. Vanity 
 had found the way into my breast, and betrayed 
 itself on many occasions. My clothes were supe- 
 rior to any girl’s in the village, and yet I often 
 stayed at home under pretended indisposition, 
 when there was any new piece of finery wanting 
 to complete my dress. I found in myself an ele- 
 vation of mind, and I could not stoop to a clownish 
 life. My soul was on fire at the name of London ; 
 and when my mother gave me the history of any 
 country girl who had there made her fortune, I 
 imagined that I should be equally successful. Let 
 any one judge, then, what an impression such a 
 letter must make. I determined to answer it, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 15 
 
 though the shame of owning I could not write vex- 
 ed me ; and yet I resolved to do it, that I might not 
 he obliged to employ Robert any more, lest he 
 should discover my affair. Besides he was become 
 disagreeable to me since I fancied myself beloved 
 by the fine nobleman. I had the precaution to 
 furnish myself with the necessary implements for 
 writing ; and returned to Robert. 
 
 When he saw me coming, he ran to meet me. 
 ‘Dear Rose,’ said he, ‘you have made haste.’ — 
 ‘ Yes,’ I replied, ‘ I met Becky in the warren; she 
 was in a great hurry to be gone after we had talk- 
 ed together, for fear of being discovered.’ — ‘ Ah, 
 cunning baggage,’ cried Robert, ‘ if ever she mar- 
 ries, she will be one too many for her husband,’ — 
 He took the paper, and, making a desk of the crown 
 of his hat, ‘ Now,’ said he, ‘what must I write to 
 this fine spark ?’ — ‘ Why, she would have you tell 
 him,’ answered I, ‘ that she has not so good an 
 opinion of herself as to imagine he can be so much 
 in love as he seems to say : that, notwithstanding 
 her mean education, she knows the duty she owes 
 herself well enough to be sensible of the unsuitable- 
 ness of the passion he aims to create: that she 
 could wish he were sincere in what he says : that 
 she cannot write, and is obliged to have recourse 
 to another to answer his letter ; but she will not 
 
 run the same hazard any more, for fear ’ ‘ Thank 
 
 you for nothing,’ said Robert, ‘ I’ll write no such 
 thing.’ ‘ Why so ?’ said I. — ‘ That is only to have 
 done with me,’ replied he, ‘ when you have no fur- 
 ther occasion. No, no, the devil take me if I write 
 it.’ — ‘ Come, come, Robert,’ answered I, ‘ let us have 
 no more words ; we may be surprised before we 
 make an end.’ He complied at last, muttering 
 something to himself ; and my letter ended with 
 grateful acknowledgments of kindness. 
 
 As soon as the letter was finished, I put it up and 
 returned home, Robert accompanying me, which I 
 was pleased with, lest my mother should take me 
 to task. She approved of our connexion and 
 
1G ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 would gladly have had his father in the same way 
 of thinking, there being considerable matters to be 
 expected. 
 
 When I reached home, it was time to go to the 
 afternoon service, whither I was followed by the 
 valet, who placed himself close behind me. I easily 
 understood that he waited for my answer. My 
 prayer-book was the best conveyance for giving 
 the letter, and which, by his dexterity, succeeded. 
 Soon after, I retired, and saw no more of him. 
 
 We were sitting down to supper, when who 
 should come in but the valet, followed by the curate 
 of the parish. I no sooner saw them, than I had a 
 fit of trembling and blushing. The stranger in- 
 quired of my father if one of his daughters did not 
 sometimes carry provisions to workmen in the 
 forest. ‘ Yes, sir,’ answered my father ; ‘ that is 
 she. Come hither,’ said he, speaking to me, ‘ how 
 have you contrived to bring all this good company 
 hither ?’ ‘ Do not be frightened, pretty maid/ 
 cried the valet, seeing me in so much confusion ; 
 ‘ these gentlemen and I intend you no harm ; and 
 though it is by his majesty’s orders, which my 
 Lord Lemington has received, we shall say nothing 
 to Miss but what is very agreeable.’ — ‘ Her name is 
 Bosina, at your service/ cried my father, interrupt- 
 ing him ; ‘ we have no Miss here.’— ‘ If she has not 
 had that title yet/ replied the curate, ‘ she may 
 hereafter. This gentleman has something to say 
 to you, and deserves your thanks for the pains he 
 has taken to find out your lovely daughter. 
 The first we inquired of was John Taplin, 
 your cousin, then of James Eoughhead, and 
 after that we were with Thomas Katcliffe ; never 
 dreaming of you, being of so little note. However, 
 it is all come out, and I am not sorry for it.’ 
 
 ‘ Mjr lord/ said the valet, ‘ has ordered me to 
 make inquiry after a girl who was in the adjoining 
 road leading to the forest last Wednesday, when 
 the king passed by. He gave his majesty an ac- 
 count of the surprise with which she was seized at 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 17 
 
 his presence. The king was so well pleased with 
 her youthful enthusiasm, that he has sent a gra- 
 tuity by him. And since you are the person, Miss, 
 I will go and acquaint my lord.’ 
 
 ‘ My lord,’ said he, 4 is intrusted with the execu- 
 tion of the king’s orders, and to my knowledge 
 will not be wanting in the least tittle. I will ac- 
 quaint him with my good success, which will be 
 very acceptable, as he is a man that very much de- 
 lights in acts of generosity.’ He gave me a tap on 
 the cheek, bidding me ‘ be a good girl, and God 
 would bless me.’ 
 
 The adventure affected my father very much ; 
 and, as he did not want sense, he began to see 
 through the little ill offices that had been done me. 
 4 Good luck attends her,’ said he, speaking to the 
 neighbours that were present, 4 and did so at her 
 birth. She is good-natured enough; and with 
 God’s grace, and the parson’s good advice, she may 
 come to something.’ 
 
 My thoughts were not idle. Simple as I was, I 
 could so far unravel this adventure, as to see that it 
 • was owing to my letter, and that the story about 
 his majesty’s bounty was no more than a pretext 
 for an opportunity of seeing me without giving 
 umbrage. 4 What a happy meeting !’ said I to my- 
 self : 4 who knows but my fortune is made, and I 
 may one day bid adieu to the village ?’ But I was 
 not without fears. 4 Possibly this nobleman,’ 
 thought I, 4 with all his protestations of love, may 
 only design my ruin!’ The adventure of a young 
 woman who resided in our neighbourhood, which 
 happened but a few years before, and with which 
 I was acquainted, raised this suspicion, which per- 
 haps would never have entered my head. 
 
 THE STORY OF CHARLOTTE DOUGLAS. 
 
 Alexander Douglas was a plain, industrious, Scotch 
 gamener, who had lived some years in the service of a 
 nobleman about three miles from our village. My 
 father and he were very intimate ; but Douglas being 
 enterprisiug, he resigned his situation, and took the lease 
 B 
 
 ‘ 
 
18 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 of some gardens which had been attached to a gentle- 
 man’s old hall, near Wycombe. His only child, Char- 
 lotte, was handsome, well shaped, and of so sweet a tem- 
 per, as endeared her to all her acquaintances. Though 
 her circumstances were mean, yet she had very advan- 
 tageous matches proposed to her, the least of which was 
 a very sufficient provision for life. But, through inexper- 
 ience, she overlooked such favourable prospects. Her 
 father, who judged better, pressed her very much to 
 come to a resolution, and by a proper choice to advance 
 herself in the world ; but the amiable temper of his 
 daughter was an invincible charm, to hinder him from 
 laying an absolute command, in opposition to the dislike 
 she had taken to matrimony. 
 
 Going one day to sell fruit at Windsor, she heard some- 
 body call to her from the window of a grand-looking 
 house, and, on obeying the call, was met at the door by 
 a servant, who showed her into an apartment very 
 sumptuously furnished. She found a young gentleman 
 sitting there in a rich night-gown. As soon as he saw 
 her, ‘Come in, sweetheart,’ said he, ‘let me see your 
 fruit ; it should be good.’ She readily uncovered the 
 basket, and assured him no better could be bought. The 
 young gentleman considered her very attentively. 
 
 Lord Fenton, the person who was talking with Char- 
 lotte, was now in the twenty fifth year of his age, and 
 being much addicted to unlawful pleasures, dedicated a 
 certain part of his large income to the gratification of 
 his passions. He was a handsome, dark-coloured man, 
 and his eyes were lively beyond description. The 
 treachery and baseness so necessary in betraying inno- 
 cence, he attributed to Whitfield his valet, the purveyor 
 to his passions ; and thus, after ruining many simple 
 &irls, he still boasted that h s honour was unstained! 
 
 Charlotte's beauty, neatness, and simplicity, enrap- 
 tured his lordship. ‘ There is nothing about you,’ said 
 he, ‘ but what is charming. Your basket of fruit is what 
 I take the 'east notice of.’ — ‘ Your goodness, sir,’ said 
 she, ‘ is pleased to think so ; but, from a country girl, 
 you must not expect a suitable reply to such compli- 
 ments.’ ‘ How!’ said his lordship, interrupting her, * I see 
 you do not know me. My sincerity was never questioned, 
 for I sQorn to say one thing and mean another; but since 
 you are pleased to be of a contrary opinion, I have done,’ 
 — ‘ [ do not pretend,’ replied she, ‘that you said any thing 
 1 can take amiss, or that you had any such intention.’ — 
 ‘ No, certainly,’ continued his lordship, unwilling to 
 frighten her from coming again ; * we will say no more of 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 19 
 
 that ; I wish to lmy your fruit, that is the business ; I 
 shall be glad to have more an other time.' Saying this, 
 lie made her a genteel bow, and retired to his closet, 
 after he had ordered Whitfield to take care of her. ‘ Show 
 her,’ said he, ‘ the larder, that she may breakfast ; and 
 let her be paid.’ A glance of his eye informed his valet 
 how to behave He treated Charlotte with great respect, 
 paid her double the worth of her fruit, and, under pre- 
 tence of enquiring where it grew, learnt her place of 
 abode. He insisted on her promising to call again and 
 assured her his lordship would take her fruit as often us 
 she came to town. 
 
 Her father was pleased with the profitable customer 
 his daughter had procured, and, in a few days, sent her 
 with another basketful of his best fruit. He was a 
 shrewd man, and not ignorant of the vices so common in 
 high life ; but then he had the utmost confidence in his 
 daughter’s prudence and piety. 
 
 The third time Charlotte called at Lord Fenton’s house, 
 his lordship himself opened the door. He was richly 
 dressed, and was a handsome man. ‘ You seem surpris- 
 ed, my pretty maid,’ said he, ‘ to see me come to the 
 door myself. I think my servants are all lost. But they 
 often serve me thus : they know my good nature, and 
 are apt to abuse it. Come in ; they will be here soon ; 
 we can chat in the mean time.’ Upon this, he led her 
 into a parlour fitted up in the most elegant taste. ‘ Dear 
 me,’ cried Charlotte, ‘ what a fine place !’ — ‘ Yes, my 
 pretty one,’ replied he * it is so whilst you are in it. Sit 
 down, my angel : lay aside your basket. Come, come/ 
 continued he, seeing her hesitate, ‘ sit down, I say ; you 
 are at home here ; use no ceremony.’ At last she was 
 prevailed with to sit. 
 
 ‘ My valet informs me,’ continued Lord Fenton, * that 
 you live near Wycombe. As I go sometimes that way, I 
 will call and eat some cream with you. I am fond of it ; 
 but from your hand it will be delicious ; for, to be plain 
 with you, Charlotte, the first moment I beheld you, my 
 heart was dedicated to your service. Why do you not 
 speak ?’ taking her hand : ‘ why this silence? It puts me 
 on the rack.’ — ‘ Why my lord,’ said Charlotte, ‘your very 
 strange talk covers me with confusion. I know not what 
 to say. Your rank and breeding are too much for my 
 simplicity.’ — ‘ That adorable simplicity,’ cried his lord- 
 ship, in a transport, ‘is one of your greatest charms 1 
 How much more preferable would the whole sex be, if 
 adorned with that, as well as with your other ravishing 
 graces i All this while he grasped her hand, kissed and 
 
20 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 bathed it with tears, atid acted the part of a man over- 
 whelmed with affliction. Charlotte was naturally tender; 
 these gestures and expressions, different from what she 
 had ever been acquainted with— the handsome person of 
 her admirer— her young heart— all perplexed her exceed- 
 ingly. ‘ I am much concerned,’ said she, ‘ that I should 
 be the cause of you thus giving way to affliction. Had I 
 foreseen it, I would never have come near the house.’ — 
 * On the contrary, the sight of you can only afford me 
 relief : those eyes must pronounce me happy or miser- 
 able. What would I not give, that you could view the 
 inmost thoughts of my soul ? You would see how you 
 triumph there !’ Saying this, he attempted to take her 
 in his arms ; but she was too discreet to suffer this, so, 
 rising up, told him with a blush she saw it was time for 
 her to be gone. Walking towards the door, she was in- 
 tercepted by his lordship, who exclaimed, ‘ Stay, my 
 angel, you are mistress here, and having nothing to fear. 
 Stay, I will do whatever you require. I will settle you 
 handsomely in the world.’ — ‘ I am too young.’ she replied, 
 ‘ to make any answer to such things. In the name of 
 goodness let me go.' Saying this, she wept bitterly. 
 Lord Fenton, convinced that he only lost his labour, en- 
 deavoured to pacify her, and with great difficulty suc- 
 ceeded. Nevertheless, she returned home with an un- 
 quiet mind. The scene she had beheld had its effect ; 
 her heart was entangled ; and, in a few days, she longed 
 as much to see his lordship as she was before desirous to 
 avoid him, She grew very pale, lost her appetite, and 
 sought solitude. 
 
 A month after, Lord Fenton unexpectedly entered her 
 father’s garden. Here he loitered for some time, tasting 
 the fruit, and chatting to the unsuspecting old man. 
 During this time, Whitfield was in the gardener’s house, 
 exerting all his eloquence to seduce Charlotte. He spoke 
 at great length of his master’s birth, wealth, and person ; 
 he laid before her the great advantages that might be 
 made of such an amour ; but all to no purpose. He pro- 
 posed the making her Lady Fenton, which he assured her 
 should soon be brought about, if she would come into 
 his measures. He told her that such an opportunity of 
 aggrandizing herself was not to be neglected for an imagi- 
 nary punctilio. Here her resolution began to fail her, 
 love and ambiton prevailed so far, that she promised to 
 come the next day to Windsor, to see, as he had express- 
 ed it, whether there was any design of imposing upon 
 her. Next day, therefore, she dressed herself with care, 
 and walked to Windsor, without her father’s knowledge. 
 
TTIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 21 
 
 Whitfield was overjoyed when he saw her, and treated 
 her with great kindness. He persuaded Charlotte, when 
 introduced to his lordship, not to insist upon any thing ; 
 assuring her that nothing could secure his master’s affec- 
 tions more than an entire confidence in his honour. 
 
 ‘ Your compliance,’ said he, ‘ with his request, will in a 
 few days make you Lady Fenton.’ And to satisfy her, he 
 reckoned up several examples, ‘which make the thing,’ 
 said he. ‘ evident beyond dispute.’ Charlotte, incapable 
 of deceiving others, could not see through the artifices by 
 which this villain at last drew her into the snare. Yet 
 she resolved not to remain without her father’s consent. 
 — Whitfield readily undertook to manage this business. 
 He wrote, in the name of his lordship s mother, an apol- 
 ogy for Charlotte’s abrupt departure, attributed it to her 
 fear of being denied the liberty of accepting her invita- 
 tion, and that she had conceived a fondness for his 
 daughter, and begging that she might be allowed to re- 
 main a few weeks at Windsor under her care. This 
 letter lulled the poor father’s suspicion, and he answered, 
 that he conceived himself much honoured by her ladyship’s 
 kindness. 
 
 Charlotte was treated with seeming delicacy and re- 
 spect. Rich dress, with ease and pleasure, she began to 
 consider as the only ingredients of happiness. She felt 
 an increased tenderness for his lordship, and became con- 
 fident of his honour and sincerity. In this state of feel- 
 ing, she one evening faltered, and her ruin was com- 
 pleted. For a short time she experienced his lordship’s 
 tenderness, and she conceived herself the most happy of 
 mortals. At length, she began to reflect that he himself 
 had never directly assured her of his intentions respecting 
 marriage ; and as she found herself with child, and heard 
 that his lordship was about setting off to London, she 
 demanded of his lordship when he intended to acknow- 
 ledge her as Lady Fenton. His lordship feigned to be con- 
 founded with surprise. ‘ He had never thought,’ he said, 
 'of such an impossibility. She must surely have been 
 listening to some of his valet’s nonsense !’ She fell into 
 .a violent paroxysm of rage. She next wept, tore her 
 hair, and appeared almost frantic. Lord Fenton retired 
 without emotion ; his passion was sated ; and he threw 
 himself carelessly into his carriage, ordered Whitfield to 
 get rid of the young fool , and drove off to London, to at- 
 tend parliament, and devise laws for the suppression of 
 vice and the promotion of morality ! 
 
 Charlotte appeared so determined on having her wrone.s 
 avenged, that the valet became seriously alarmed, and 
 
22 rosin a; or, 
 
 wrote to his master an account of her unappeasable 
 raue. Lord Fenton also feared the cousequences, and 
 directed- Whitfield to offer her a thousand pounds to pro- 
 cure herself a suitable husband. Charlotte, alter reflect- 
 ing a few days on her irretrievable ruin and unprotected 
 situation, accepted the money. She sent her father, 
 who was almost broken-hearted, two hundred pouuds to 
 pay his debts, and one hundred pounds more to assist 
 him^in his business, reserving the rest for her own sup- 
 port. For some time she was confined at Windsor by a 
 severe illness, caused by excessive grief and vexation. 
 She refused to see her father or any of her friends. Her 
 child died on seeing the light ; and when she was a little 
 recovered, she took up her abode in a small neat cottage, 
 about half a mile from our village. Here she lived, with 
 an old widow woman, in a state of complete seclusion. 
 She never stepped over the threshold of her door until 
 nature was veiled in the darkness of night. 
 
 This sad tale occurring to me with redoubled 
 force, I resolved to be more wary than the unhappy 
 Charlotte. In vain did my inclinations side with 
 my noble admirer, and set him off in the most fa- 
 vourable light. I determined never to swerve from 
 virtue, and, as often as my heart should give occa 
 sion, to call it to my assistance. From that mo- 
 ment I have constantly adhered to this maxim, and 
 have just reason to look upon it as the foundation 
 of all my good fortune. 
 
 While thus thinking, my mother announced the 
 approach of the noble stranger and the Viscountess 
 Neville. A few other lpdies and gentlemen, who 
 were at the castle, attended them from motives of 
 curiosity. As they drew near, the viscountess 
 sweetly called out, ‘ Come hither, my dear Rosina, 
 I am overjoyed that you begin so early to taste the 
 sweets of your good fortune. Do not be afraid ; 
 we know your education has been such as a village 
 affords. How do you like my god-daughter, my 
 lord ‘ Indeed, madam,’ replied the earl, ‘ your 
 ladyship must pardon me ; I think this pretty crea- 
 ture very well behaved : she wants but little im- 
 provement to be as you would have her.'— ‘Do 
 you know,’ replied the viscountess, ‘ that Rosina 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATO. 
 
 23 
 
 has the honour of having your uncle, the Earl of 
 Glenford, for a godfather r — ‘ I did not,’ said the 
 earl. The company busied themselves in com- 
 mending me ; one extolled my beauty, and fancy 
 in my country attire; another praised my com- 
 plexion ; in a word, every one contributed some- 
 thing to increase the perplexity I was in. 
 
 When the first volley of compliments were over, 
 the earl, addressing me with great respect, said, 4 I 
 have the pleasure of presenting you with this purse, 
 containing twenty guineas, from his majesty, which 
 you owe to the lively satisfaction you expressed at 
 seeing his person. I am glad that I mentioned the 
 circumstance to my royal master, as I now find 
 that, at your christening, you were taken under 
 the care of my honoured friend, the Viscountess 
 Neville, and of my uncle, the Earl of Glenford. — 
 4 That you may assure yourself of,’ said the vis- 
 countess : 4 but, Rosina, what do you say to his 
 lordship? You must thank him for the pains he 
 has taken/ I made him a curtsey, and acknow- 
 ledged the favour, in a low voice, 4 Come, Rosina,* 
 said the viscountess, 4 tell us what you will do with 
 your money. How will you lay it out ?’ — 4 Since 
 you are pleased, madam, to command me,’ answer- 
 ed I, 4 the best use I can put his majesty’s bounty 
 to, is to give it to my mother. 4 How !’ said the 
 earl, 4 will you not keep some for your own use ?’ 
 — 4 Indeed, my lord,’ I replied, not daring to look 
 him in the face, 4 I do not want any thing. I shall 
 only beg of her to have me taught to write .’ He 
 was charmed with my answer, which he understood 
 by my letter. 4 Ah ! madam,’ cried he, turning to 
 the viscountess, 4 how commendable is this desire 
 of improvement ! It would be barbarous not to 
 second it.’ — 4 It is not my design,’ replied the vis- 
 countess, 4 to be guilty of any such thing. Rosina,’ 
 said she, 4 1 will take you home with me this even- 
 ing if you choose. Are you willing to go ?’ I said 
 to my mother, 4 You are the properest person, dear 
 mamma, 4 to consider what answer we ought to re- 
 
ROSINA ; OR 
 
 24 
 
 turn to my godmother’s great goodness.’ But my 
 father saved her the trouble, telling her ladyship 
 he thought himself much honoured by such a fa- 
 vour. The viscountess, turning to the earl, told 
 him she undertook the charge of me, and would 
 make me deserving of the honours I had received. 
 ‘ Take your leave, Rosina,’ said she to me, turning 
 about and followed by the company. I embraced 
 my mother and the rest of the family with tears in 
 my eyes. I gave the purse to my mother, who told 
 me in a whisper she would not fail to buy me some 
 new clothes fit to appear in. Having taken my 
 leave, I followed the company. My mother charg- 
 ed me to be always good, and never to forget that 
 no true happiness could be expected without recti- 
 tude of conduct. 
 
 The earl often looked back. Coming up to me, 
 ‘ How happy, dearest Rosina, am I,’ said he, ‘ to 
 have it in my power to see you ! and from time to 
 time to renew such a delightful satisfaction ! I 
 wish I could make you comprehend how dear so 
 long an absence has cost me.’ — ‘ I am very sensible, 
 my lord,’ answered I, ‘ how much I am indebted to 
 your generosity. I hope you will accept of the ac- 
 knowledgements I make, though they are far short 
 of what they ought to be. You must attribute this 
 to my limited capacity, and the company I have 
 been used to, who were no better than myself ; and 
 it could not be expected but that I should be much 
 confused on such occasions. Perhaps when I have 
 been some time with my godmother, I may learn 
 more breeding.’ — ‘Your good sense charms me,’ 
 replied the earl : ‘ it wants only a little improve- 
 ment. But you must learn to distinguish your 
 friends. And give me leave, my dear Rosina, not 
 to lose this opportunity ; to speak as the sincerest 
 friend you have. You are beautiful, and will every 
 day be more so: the viscountess sees much com- 
 pany, and consequently it cannot be long before 
 addresses will be made to you. But remember, few 
 young gentlemen are of the same way of thinking 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 25 
 
 with myself ; they carry danger with them, and 
 will leave no way untried to deceive you : if you 
 listen to them, you must give me over for lost. In 
 the mean time, endear yourself to your godmo- 
 ther, who is a good woman. I ought to ask your 
 pardon for taking upon me to give you lessons ; 
 but the great share I must bear in everything that 
 concerns you, makes me thus look forward into 
 your affairs. Her ladyship has a daughter, who, 
 as she is much your inferior in point of beauty, will 
 be jealous of you. Her brother is a handsome 
 young gentleman, and I have reason to think will 
 be as little able to resist your charms as myself.’ 
 This gives me some uneasiness. 
 
 ‘I do not know,’ answered I, ‘what love is. I 
 have hitherto lived very happy, unacquainted with 
 any uneasiness but what arose from seeing my mo 
 ther in affliction. There is nothing but your gen 
 erous behaviour towards ’ ‘ No more of gen- 
 
 erosity,’ replied he : ‘I am in pain when you 
 bestow that name on such trifling marks of my 
 friendship. I shall ever be happy in showing how 
 tenderly I love you.’ — ‘ Lord !’ said I, smiling, ‘ you 
 are always talking of love : let it rest till I know 
 what it is. — ‘I will teach you what it is,’ replied he. 
 ‘No, my lord,’ I cried; ‘my mother has often 
 charged me never to listen to men, since all they 
 say only tends to impose upon us.’ — ‘Take care,’ 
 replied the earl, ‘ that you never mention to her my 
 passion. She is of a jealous temper.’ — ‘ Nay then,’ 
 added I, ‘ there must be harm in it, since you are 
 afraid to let it be known.’ — -‘ No, my dearest Ro* 
 sina,’ said he, ‘ there is none ; have abetter opinion 
 of me.’ I was about to reply : I found a facility in 
 doing it that surprised me. The viscountess, turn- 
 ing about, called to me, and said, ‘ How now ?’ said 
 she to me : ‘ are you listening to the earl ? What 
 subject has he been upon? Love, to be sure. Re-? 
 member, Rosina, it is poison, and oftentimes fatal.’ 
 — ‘ I know nothing of the matter, madam,’ answer? 
 ed I : ‘ my lord has been enquiring after our coun? 
 
26 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 try amusements, and I have given him the best 
 account I can.’ — ‘ It is true,’ said he. 
 
 The viscountess, on entering her apartment, 
 called for Miss Moore, her ladyship’s maid, but 
 who now acted as a sub-governess. She was about 
 fifty years of age — lean and wrinkled — and very 
 snappish ; but all her passions were ruled by avar- 
 ice. To this antiquated piece of formality I was 
 given in charge. ‘ I recommend,’ said the viscoun- 
 tess, ‘ my god- daughter to your care for improve- 
 ment. She is rather clever and good-tempered, 
 and will make rapid progress under your direction. 
 I am her friend. How will you dispose of her, 
 Miss Moore ?’ — 1 1 Why, in my own chamber,’ an- 
 swered she, ‘where can she be better — ‘ Very 
 true,’ said the viscountess : ‘ see that she be first 
 instructed in writing and accounts ; and your ser- 
 vices shall be rewarded.’ During this conversa- 
 tion, my heart misgave me ; I dreaded my present 
 situation. 
 
 The earl stayed some time at the castle, and con- 
 tinually tried to speak with me. But this was dif- 
 ficult, as I was always with my governess, or in 
 the viscountess’ apartment learning to embroider, 
 I saw how disagreeable this restraint was to him. 
 While he stayed, nothing affected me but the en- 
 dearing reflection of being beloved by him : I ap- 
 prehended no harm in amusing myself with this 
 idea. Gratitude, methought, required it of me. 
 Frivolous pretext ! fatal mistake ! 
 
 Lady Lambe, the viscountess’ daughter, was 
 about sixteen years of age ; of a fair complexion, 
 her eyes were large and dull, but she did not want 
 wit. Her countenance was deceptive, being good- 
 natured and engaging, whereas she was envious 
 and sullen. My little experience did not prevent 
 my discerning the uneasiness my arrival at the 
 castle had created in her. She did not conceal her 
 coldness, or her envy. All my attempts to concili- 
 ate her good opinion were repulsed with haughti- 
 ness. Her brother, the Honourable Thomas Henry 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAIT>. 27 
 
 Lambe, who had just been promoted to the com- 
 mand of his majesty’s sloop of war, the Viper, from 
 the moment of my entering the castle, he showed 
 me the most marked attention. He considered me 
 an agreeable amusement during his short stay at 
 home, while my innocent and unaffected carriage, 
 flattered him with an easy conquest. He was tall 
 and well-shaped ; he was very passionate, and, like 
 his sister, haughty. Where he wanted to please, 
 he would artfully disguise those ill qualities ; but 
 if his efforts were unsuccessful, he was sure to em- 
 ploy both artifice and force. I had leisure enough 
 to study both their characters ; and the treatment 
 I met with from them taught me never to form an 
 opinion of any one from first impressions. 
 
 The earl had the dexterity, the day before he left 
 the castle, to get an opportunity of speaking with 
 me. He addressed me thus : — ‘ How happy am I, 
 my dearest Rosina, in this opportunity of talking 
 with you ! What would I hot give to enjoy it 
 every day ! May I not inquire, before I depart, 
 what place I have in your affections p Speak, my 
 angel, do not refuse me this satisfaction. Life is a 
 burthen to me without, at least, the hopes of gain- 
 ing your affections. It is uncertain when I shall 
 see you again ; and yet that is the only comfort 
 left, in the situation in which my passion for you 
 has placed me.’ He spoke with so much tender- 
 ness, that I could not forbear looking at him, deep- 
 ly sighing. ‘ What means that sigh, my charmer ?* 
 said he, most affectionately : ‘ Am I so happy as 
 to move your compassion ?’ — 4 Ah ! my lord,’ re- 
 plied I, ‘ leave me, I beseech you. Whenever you 
 are near to speak to me, I am not myself. Why 
 do you pursue a young creature of my low condi- 
 tion ? I know very well my distance ; yet I fear 
 not to say, that, great as you are, if your designs 
 are dishonourable, they shall never succeed.’ — ‘ God 
 forbid,’ cried he, ‘ that I should have such a 
 thought ! All I desire is to love you, and to obtain 
 your favour.’ — ‘ Alas ! to what purpose ?’ answered 
 
rs ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 I : 4 why does every gentleman say the same ? I 
 never heard so much of love as within the eight 
 days I have been here/ — ‘How!’ said the earl, in 
 amazement, 4 this is the first time I have had an 
 opportunity of making my addresses to you.’ — 4 As 
 if you were the only one !’ answered I, innocently : 
 ‘ all the other gentlemen are ever on the same 
 strain ; but the viscountess’ son never suffers me to 
 have a moment's quiet. ’— 4 Heavens !’ said the earl, 
 4 surely he is not in love with you.’— 4 I cannot tell 
 what it is to be in love,’ replied I ; ‘ but if every 
 one is in love that says so, he certainly is.’-— 1 4 And 
 what answer do you make him ?’ cried the earl. 4 I 
 take so little notice of what he says,’ answered I, 
 4 that I can give you no account.’ ‘ But, my dear 
 Bosina, do not you find a pleasure in hearing him ?* 
 — 4 Ah ! not in the least,’ answered I ; 4 so far from 
 it, that one word of yours makes a much greater 
 impression on me than a hundred of his.’— ‘ How 
 
 f ou charm me !’ cried the earl. 4 How happy should 
 be if I were convinced of what you say I I would 
 not change my condition with any thing the world 
 affords. You restore me to life : my happiness de* 
 pends upon that acknowledgment.’ — ‘Heavens! 
 w T hat have I said ?’ replied I, astonished to see him 
 thus transported. ‘ Perhaps I may have done amiss 
 without knowing it.’— 4 No, no,’ said he, ‘ never 
 think of acting otherwise. If your heart has ex- 
 plained itself, do not contradict it.’ — ‘ My heart has 
 said nothing,’ answered I ; 4 if I have let drop any 
 words without knowing their meaning, you ought 
 not to take any advantage from thence.’— 4 What ! 
 am I to depart, then r” replied the earl, overwhelm* 
 ed with vexation. 4 Your heart says nothing ! To 
 another it may possibly speak. Farewell, then, 
 since I have incurred your hatred.’ I felt sorry 
 and perplexed. 4 Good God !’ I cried, 4 what a mis- 
 fortune is it not to know how T to express ourselves ! 
 That is the reason I am thought to say one thing 
 when I mean another. Why should you afflict 
 yourself in this manner? It was far from my 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 29 
 
 intention.’ ‘ This moment you were ready to cry ; 
 and now I have made some blunder, you are laugh- 
 ing at me. It is high time for me to hold my 
 tongue.’ I spoke this with some warmth, and fell 
 to my work, without taking the least notice of pas- 
 sionate expressions. 
 
 I thought he was gone, I looked up hastily, and 
 was much out of countenance to find him looking 
 steadfastly on me. ‘ You certainly design my 
 death,’ said he, ‘ since you will not vouchsafe me 
 so much as a look. I go then with a heavy heart. 
 Cruel creature ! farewell for ever.’ This roused 
 me : ‘ No, my lord,’ answered I, with warmth, ‘ my 
 behaviour deserves no such names. I am not, nor 
 ever was, cruel to any thing ; so far from it, I can- 
 not see a lamb killed without crying. Even when 
 my brother and sister have beat me, I would not 
 defend myself, for fear of hurting them. Judge 
 then if I deserve to be called cruel.’ ‘ I ask your 
 pardon, my dearest Kosina,’ said he, ‘ if I have of- 
 fended you. The word cruel does not mean ill-na- 
 tured : however, had you persisted in not answering 
 me, you would have deserved to be called so. But 
 now you have restored me to life, and I will not 
 use that word again. I design to send Villers, my 
 valet, twice a month, under a pretended compli- 
 ment to the viscountess, that I may hear from you. 
 I shall take all opportunities to wait on you, so as 
 not to be observed. At present, I shall not press 
 to know what place I have in your affections, as 
 you seem so averse to the subject ; but I shall be 
 able to form some judgment of it by your earnest- 
 ness to learn to write, and I flatter myself I shall 
 then find I am not altogether disagreeable to you.* 
 My governess came to us with joy in her counten- 
 ance. She had won four guineas, and was bring- 
 ing the earl his share. ‘ Pray, madam,’ said he, 
 
 ‘ keep them yourself ; they may be lucky to you 
 another time. When I return to London, I intend 
 to play for you there, and see whether the same 
 fortune attends you in deep play. The only return 
 
30 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 I desire is, that you would be careful of this child : 
 you may possibly find your account in it hereafter.* 
 ‘ You need say no more, my lord,’ she replied ; ‘ let 
 me alone : I will take the same care of her as if she 
 were my own daughter. Our young master is very 
 fond of her ; but I shall watch him narrowly ; and 
 I think he will not venture to take any liberties 
 there.’ I was now left alone with Miss Moore, and 
 soon found the effects of the earl’s civilities.’ 
 
 The eager attentions of Captain Lambe were 
 soon discovered by his mother, who reprimanded 
 him severely. This rendered him more circumspect 
 in his behaviour ; but I soon found what terrible 
 effects may be expected from restraint, where the 
 heart is not guided by a principle of virtue. I con- 
 tinued to feel much vexation from the haughty be- 
 haviour of the viscountess’ daughter. 
 
 What a friend to solitude is love ! I soon became 
 acquainted with it. Its revenge was severe, mak- 
 ing me feel the full extent of its power and vio- 
 lence. I lost my complexion and strength. My 
 rest heretofore was undisturbed, but now I seldom 
 enjoyed rest. I was willing to hide my feelings 
 from myself ; and, instead of blaming my affections, 
 I attributed what I suffered to my absence from 
 my mother : but I was soon convinced of my error. 
 The viscountess imagining the sight of my parents 
 would be of service to me, in the condition to 
 which she saw me reduced. They were sent for, 
 and afforded me some relief ; but I received much 
 more from the arrival of Villars. He gave me an 
 account of his master, and how much he was con- 
 cerned at his absence. 
 
 Though my health continued delicate, yet I 
 zealously applied myself to my studies. The old 
 master who had long attended the family taught 
 me to write, to spell, and to cast up accounts. I 
 was delighted with my new acquirements, and took 
 a cldldish pleasure in scrawling over whole pages, 
 which I adroitly gave to Villars for his master. I 
 contracted a friendship with Catherine, my gover- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 31 
 
 ness’ niece. She had received a genteel education, 
 had a most affectionate heart, and was endowed 
 with good principles. She was a girl of a superior 
 order. I have great reason to love her, as she was 
 the first that polished the coarse breeding I had 
 contracted at home. Her age and experience were 
 superior to mine ; but we were inseparable com- 
 panions. One Sunday, after church time, her aunt 
 walked with us into a neighbouring wood. Our 
 conversation turning upon the viscountess, she in- 
 formed me that the viscount and his lady had been 
 upon very indifferent terms ; that since the vis- 
 count had been sent on an embassy to the court of 
 Dresden, she had never seen him ; and that, even 
 when at home, they seldom met, he generally com- 
 ing down to the country when she returned to 
 town. ‘ Good God !’ said I, ‘ is it possible for mar- 
 ried people to live at a distance from each other P 
 We never hear of any such thing in our village. 
 What can be the cause of it ?’ — ‘ Love on the one 
 side, and jealousy on the other,’ answered Cather- 
 ine : ‘ the husband dislikes his lady’s admirers, and 
 the lady cannot prevail upon herself to discard 
 them.’ — ‘What!’ said I, ‘do people think of ad- 
 mirers after they are married P’ — ‘ Yes, my dear 
 Rosina,’ replied she : ‘ it is very wrong ; yet nothing 
 is more frequent in London. Interest, not affec- 
 tion, commonly makes the first match, and a 
 wretched custom takes place of reason. The gen- 
 tleman has his mistresses, the lady her intrigues, 
 they live in the same house, and seldom see the 
 face of each other. It has happened to some, that 
 their complaisant indifference for each other has 
 brought about a reconciliation. But the viscount 
 is not so accommodating ; and his lady, who is a 
 woman of spirit, will not submit. She affects the 
 air of a coquet, loves to be thought amiable, and 
 more to be told so. For the last three months, she 
 has been, to her insupportable mortification, with- 
 out an admirer. It is but since the arrival of the 
 Earl of Lemington at the castle, that she has put 
 
3*2 
 
 tiosina ; on, 
 
 on an air of sprightliness ; and I do not wonder at 
 her satisfaction, for the earl is the most amiable 
 gentleman I ever saw ; he appears to be deeply- 
 enamoured with her ladyship, who retains many of 
 her attractions.’ These last words went to my 
 heart ; I felt sick, and sunk insensible upon the 
 grass. In a short time I recovered my recollection, 
 and found myself in Catherine’s arms. She attri- 
 buted my illness to the indifferent state of my 
 health, and, leading me home, put me to bed, as- 
 suring me that a few honrs’ sleep would set me to 
 rights. 
 
 ‘ Ah, wretched creature !’ cried I, bursting into 
 tears, ‘ where is that tranquillity of mind I once 
 possessed P What has thus reduced me of late to 
 this forlorn condition P Why thus altered since the 
 earl’s absence P What is it to me if he be wicked 
 — if he does court the viscountess ? Why am I so 
 concerned in this affair ? Barbarous man ! how 
 could you say you loved me P Why should you thus 
 deceive me ? Why should you take an advantage 
 of my too great credulity ? What will become of 
 me ? Ah, Charlotte ! Charlotte ! I feel too plainly 
 what you must have endured when abandoned by 
 one you loved so well. I but judge of you by my- 
 self.’ 
 
 I was going out of my chamber, but was prevent- 
 ed by Captain Lamb, who had just returned from 
 London. ‘ I am told,’ said he, ‘ you were indisposed 
 last evening, and yet I think you look pretty well.' 
 — ‘ Likely enough, answered I ; ‘ but it must be 
 owing to sleep, for I am not perfectly recovered.’ — 
 
 * I am sorry for that,’ replied he ; ‘ I will engage to 
 cure you if you will permit me to be your physi- 
 cian ; I can do more than all the doctors put toge- 
 ther.’ — ‘ Oh, sir,’ answered I, ‘ let me alone. I de- 
 test the whole sex of men.’ — ‘ They are not so con- 
 temptible either ; at least those of a certain turn,’ 
 said he. This was spoken with such an air of com- 
 placency in his own dear self, as plainly intimated 
 he thought he was one of the number. ‘ No, no, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 33 
 
 my dearest, you will not always be so hard-hearted.’ 
 Then he attempted to catch me in his arms ; and 
 I cried out for help. This brought my governess to 
 my assistance, who seized him as he was pursuing, 
 and, after upbraiding him with the little respect he 
 paid to his mother’s commands, and assuring him 
 that she at least should insist upon a different be- 
 haviour, shut him out, while fury and indignation 
 flashed from his eyes. 
 
 ‘ What would this fool be at here ?’ said she to 
 me. ‘ I do not know,’ replied I ; he endeavoured 
 to take me in his arms.’— 4 You were in the right,’ 
 said she, ‘ to call out ; he will not come this way 
 again in haste. It is really a pity he should behave 
 in this manner ; he does not want sense, if he would 
 but govern himself.’ 
 
 After this we went to her ladyship’s apartment, 
 where I unexpectedly saw the earl. On entering, 
 his lordship advancing, said, ‘ How do you do, my 
 charming Rosina ? Good God !’ cried he, seeing 
 me nearer, ‘ how she is altered ! What can be the 
 meaning of this, my dear ? What has befallen you 
 since I was here ? He took my hand ; but I 
 snatched it away with indignation. ‘ Madam,’ 
 said he, turning to the viscountess, ‘ depend upon 
 it the child is ill : she must be taken care of.’ — ‘ It 
 will go off,’ replied her ladyship. ‘ Come hither, 
 Rosina, let me feel your pulse. You are right ; she 
 is in a fever. Send for Doctor Morris,’ speaking 
 to Miss Moore, ‘ put her to bed, and let somebody 
 attend her.’ When I reached my chamber, I was 
 put to bed ; but the melancholy reflections that 
 crowded upon my mind produced such a violent 
 effect, that the fever increased, and in the morning 
 I was delirious. 
 
 The viscountess was much alarmed. Her appre- 
 hensions of the sick were most extravagant, and 
 she had seldom approached her own children in 
 sickness. As soon as the earl heard of the danger, 
 he flew to my chamber, and, by his grief, discover- 
 ed his passion to my watchful governess. He saw 
 0 
 
34 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 that he was in her power ; but he soon secured her 
 interest by his generosity. ‘ It is m vain for me,’ 
 said he, 4 to hide any longer from you the cause of 
 my grief. My life depends upon this child’s reco- 
 very.’ Saying this, he presented Miss Moore with 
 a fifty pound note. ‘Accept this,’ he continued, 
 ‘ as a small acknowledgment for your attentions to 
 her ; but if you can save her life, you will have 
 much greater claims upon me. And as for you,’ 
 said he, to Catherince, ‘ take this diamond brooch 
 as a reward for your concern. I know you love 
 Rosina, and that is enough to make you dear to me. 
 I have a particular view in regard to this lovely 
 young creature, whom I adore, and from whose life 
 my own is inseparable. Ah, Rosina ! Rosina !’ 
 bursting into tears, ‘ you hear me not. Look up, 
 my angel, and see your poor lover. Good God ! 
 whence comes this illness ?* He then fell into an 
 agony of grief, and even Miss Moore shed tears. 
 She also advised him to leave the castle next day, 
 to prevent discovery. ‘ Her ladyship,’ said she, ‘ is 
 jealous and quick of apprehension. Should she 
 discover your passion, it is impossible to anticipate 
 the effects of her resentment. Your presence here 
 is of no use. Go, then, and make yourself easy. 
 His lordship, after kissing my hand, retired, and 
 the next day left the castle. 
 
 When I was nearly recovered, I confessed to 
 Catherine the cause of my illness, and which she 
 communicated to her aunt. They both condemned 
 my jealousy, and said that the earl’s partiality for 
 the viscountess, who was old enough to be his mo- 
 ther, was a mere expedient, whereby he purposed 
 to serve me. I replied, that I could not approve 
 of such wicked-like disguises, and that his vices 
 would make me very cautious. My governess said 
 I was a good girl, and that she should always 
 assist me in resisting attempts upon my virtue. I 
 received a long letter from his lordship, full of ex- 
 pressions of ardent affection, and of solemn pro- 
 testations of innocence* as regarded his connection 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 35 
 
 with the viscountess. I was filled with delight on 
 reading this letter, which contained, I thought, the 
 most beautiful language that a mortal could invent. 
 Nothing now molested me but the frequent intru- 
 sions of Captain Lambe, for which there was no 
 remedy, as I could not affront him in his mother’s 
 house. When I again went down stairs, the vis- 
 countess lavished much kindness upon me. Even 
 the captain’s attention became more distant and 
 respectful. 
 
 While at dinner one day at the viscountess’ table, 
 Miss Moore proposed a walk in the cool of the even- 
 ing. Captain Lambe was present, and behaved 
 with such propriety, that I concluded he had con- 
 quered his folly, and paid him all the deference due 
 to the son of my benefactress. When we were prepar- 
 ing for our walk, Catherine whispered that it was a 
 contrivance of her aunt’s, in order to meet the earl, 
 who was impatient to see me. The evening was 
 beautiful, and we strolled through the fields until 
 we were two miles distant from the castle. Miss 
 Moore now proposed to rest a little. We had not 
 remained long before we heard a whistle. I was 
 startled ; but my governess said I need not be un- 
 der any apprehension. But in a little time a second 
 signal seemed to answer the first ; immediately we 
 heard a noise just by ; and four men, disguised 
 with masks, rushed upon us, and in an instant 
 thrust handkerchiefs in our mouths. They bound 
 Miss Moore and her niece, and then led us about 
 fifty yards from thence, to a by-place surrounded 
 with a thick coppice, where they left them tied to 
 two trees. I was carried farther off, where three 
 of the men retired, leaving me alone with the 
 fourth, who, throwing off his mask, to my surprise 
 discovered himself to be Captain Lambe. ‘ Since 
 nothing but force,’ said he, will prevail with you, 
 it is fitting you should be treated according to youi 
 taste.’ He then began to offer violence. I strug- 
 gled very hard, and the hankerchief falling off my 
 face, I screamed so that the forest rang again. 1 
 
86 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 was upon the point of falling a victim to the 
 wretch’s brutality ; but heaven had compassion on 
 me. I heard the noise of a horse’s feet galloping 
 towards us. The villain started at the sound, and 
 immediately desisted. When he saw a person com- 
 ing to my reseue, he uttered bitter imprecations, 
 running to his pistols that were in the holsters of 
 his saddle. I instantly ran away as fast as I was 
 able. In a moment, the noise of their fighting 
 reached me ; the report of their pistols, echoing 
 back from all parts of the wood, was very terrible. 
 I swooned away at the foot of a tree 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 T HE night had approached when I came to my- 
 self. A cold sweat hung upon my face, and 
 with difficulty I arose from the ground. The still- 
 ness and darkness of the night struck a terror into 
 me. ‘ Where am I ?’ said I. ‘ How shall I es- 
 cape the fate that pursues me ?’ Trembling and 
 doubtful of the road, I wandered I knew not 
 where. Every breath of air rustling in the leaves 
 startled me, and made me start for fear. The least 
 object I could discern became an apparition. In 
 going along, an owl brushed me with its wing ; I 
 gave myself over for lost, and redoubled my speed. 
 The stump of a tree caught my gown ; I cried out, 
 thinking somebody had seized me. I proceeded 
 through the gloom of the forest, without being able 
 to discover any thing like a path. Some animal 
 bounded past me ; I started to one side, the ground 
 give way under me, and I found myself at the 
 bottom of a pit in a sitting posture, and without 
 receiving any hurt. Terrified and exhausted, I 
 gathered myself up, and, covered with my gown, 
 poured out a torrent of tears. Soft sleep at last re- 
 lieved my cares. 
 
 The dawn of the day began to pierce the thickets, 
 and the warblers of the wood welcomed the return- 
 ing light. I began to review the horrors of the pre- 
 ceding evening, and to reflect on my present state. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 37 
 
 I looked upon my misfortunes as the just punish- 
 ment of my pride, in aspiring to a connection so 
 far above the condition in which I was placed by 
 providence. I vowed, if I escaped the present 
 danger, never again to indulge any hopes of being 
 the wife of the Earl of Lemington. I thought I 
 heard a rustling in the thicket above my head, and, 
 looking up, saw a man with a gun presented to- 
 wards the spot where I was sitting, and near me 
 was a fox. This instantly aroused me, and I cried 
 out, 4 For God’s sake, spare me ! spare me !’ — 
 4 What have we here ?’ said the man. 4 Wounds ! I 
 had like to have made a fine kettle of fish on’t, 
 truly. What do you here, my lass ? How came 
 that rascal of a fox and you into company ?’— 4 In 
 the name of goodness,’ I exclaimed, 4 save me, de- 
 liver me, and I will tell you all.’ — 4 With all my 
 heart,’ he replied ; 4 but you must have patience 
 till I get help. I’ll be back in a minute.’ In a 
 short time he returned with another person, who 
 lowered himself down the pit, and raising me up, 
 the other took me by the hands, and drew me out 
 of my prison. My unfortunate companion also 
 made an effort to escape ; but one of my deliverers 
 sent a ball through his head. When they returned, 
 one of the men cried out, 4 Good God ! what do I 
 see ? What, Rosina— why this is a happiness !’ On 
 recognizing Robert Danbv, my old lover, I was sur- 
 prised ; and all the pleasing associations of youth 
 rushing into my mind, I screamed out, 4 What is 
 that you, Robert p’— 4 Aye, Rosina,’ replied he: 
 4 this is odd. How did you get into that ugly hole ?* 
 I briefly said, that, flying from some ruffians in the 
 wood, I had lost my way, and in the dark stumbled 
 into the gravel-pit. 
 
 Robert scratched his head, and replied, 4 Why, 
 Rosina, I am glad you escaped so well. But, 
 plague on’t ! you living at the castle sticks in my 
 gizzard ; for they say some shabby hanger-on at 
 court, with a bit of a title, is in love with you. 
 Now, the very Sunday I wrote the letter for you, I 
 
38 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 got my father’s consent to marry you ; he yielding 
 when he heard you had got a great purse full of 
 gold, and were a favourite with a king. But since 
 that blessed day I have never seen you. The saucy 
 lace-coated gentry always denied you, or pretended 
 you were ill. And I heard this morning that people 
 are in search of you on all sides. ’Tis said the cap- 
 tain, who has not returned to the castle, has car- 
 ried you off. I’m pleased, however, that he wing- 
 ed that cur of a lord ; for what right had he to 
 come between me and home ?’ — ‘ What do you 
 mean by being winged?’ said I. — ‘ Ho ! ho !’ cried 
 he, 4 you are mighty uneasy methinks. Does this 
 give you pain ? Why, if that be the case, I will be 
 merciful, and tell you no more.’ — 4 Keep your se- 
 cret, then, to yourself,’ replied I, nettled at what he 
 had said : 4 Jack Green here will be more polite.’ — 
 ‘ No, I thank you,’ answered the clown; 4 I’m on 
 Robin’s side, and I think you’re right served if we 
 pay you in your own coin.’ — 4 So much the better,’ 
 replied I, fiercely, and overjoyed at having a pre- 
 text for quarrelling with Robert ; 4 1 am not so 
 mightily taken with his person and his wit as you 
 imagine. So good day — I know my way to the 
 castle.’ 
 
 Robert, who was really fond of me, was surprised 
 at the sharpness of my reply. 4 Stay, Rosina,’ said 
 he, ‘I’ll show you the way myself. Good God! 
 why should you take thus upon you ?’ — ‘ No, no,’ 
 continued I, 4 you shall not be at the trouble of de- 
 nying any more requests of mine ; I shall learn 
 what has passed without being beholden to you.* 
 Saying this I offered to go, but was prevented by 
 their laying hold of me. 4 Ah ! naughty girl,’ cried 
 Robert, 4 1 should not appear so contemptible in 
 your eye, if you did not meet with encouragement 
 elsewhere; but you would do well to remembef 
 Charlotte.’ 
 
 4 1 should be very sorry,’ said I, 4 to fall into the 
 circumstances you hint at, and much more to be at 
 your disposal. Let me hear no more of such dis- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 39 
 
 course, continued I, sharply, * and do not pretend 
 to stop me. whom you have no right to detain.’ — 
 
 ‘ O hut I have,’ cried Robert ; ‘ I have your father 
 and mother’s promise, and that is sufficient ; and, 
 Miss, you shall go home to your parents. You are 
 very much altered by your quality conversation ; 
 but a little of our village air will take down your 
 pride.’ Upon this, making a sign to Jack Green, 
 they seized each of them an arm, and dragged me 
 along. 
 
 I was forced to follow, though with tears in my 
 eyes. ‘ Look, Jack,’ cried Robert, ‘ how she takes 
 on : I could pity her, but that I know the cause of 
 her sorrow ; it is because she is like to lose her dear 
 lord. Were they mistaken who said there was a 
 good understanding between them? Her beha- 
 viour makes it as plain as the nose on a man’s face. 
 And besides, let me tell ye, the viscountess has 
 spoke her mind ; she says she will have no more to 
 do with you after what has happened ; this makes 
 a great deal of noise in the neighbourhood.’ 
 
 This piece of news stung me to the quick. I 
 valued my reputation, and the thoughts of our re- 
 turning to our village under an infamous character 
 put me upon the rack. The tenderness with which 
 I loved my mother staggered my resolution. ‘I 
 shall be ill used at home,’ thought I ; * my father’s 
 look, and the malice of my sister and brother, 
 would kill me ; and I shall not dare go abroad, to 
 be the mark of every pointing finger. Who knows 
 but that the miscreant, the captain, will lay wait 
 for me, and take an opportunity of effecting his 
 designs ? What resistance can we make ?’ These 
 reflections determined me to make my escape as 
 soon as possible, and shelter myself in London. 
 
 J ust then there appeared in the road a man on 
 horseback. As he rode so fast, he soon came up 
 with us. ‘ Did you see,’ said he, as he drew near, 
 
 ‘ a young ’ ‘ Ah ! what do I see ?’ cried he, on 
 
 discovering me; ‘ it is herself. Is that you, Miss 
 Hawkins? What a happiness to find you again! 
 
40 
 
 ROSIJSTI ; OR, 
 
 what a satisfaction this will be to my master !* 
 How great was my joy to find that it was Villars, 
 the earl’s valet ! Villars took my hand, in order 
 to kiss it ; but .Robert interposed, and thrust him * 
 aside, crying out, ‘ Not so fast, friend ; no kissing 
 here. I know you well enough, for all you pretend 
 to be surprised.’ — ‘ Is this any of your relations ?* 
 said the valet to me.’ — ‘No,’ answered I. — ‘Why 
 what would the fool be at ?’ continued Villars, still 
 holding my hand. — ‘ Not so fast, I tell you, friend,’ 
 added Robert: ‘we are not afraid of your laced 
 hat ; and we bid you defiance.’ — ‘ Oh ho !’ cried 
 Villars, ‘ what are you for being obstreperous ?’ 
 
 ‘ Wounds!’ replied Robert, in a passion ; ‘ as if we 
 did not know who you are.’ He seized Jack 
 Green’s gun, and stepping back, ‘ Udsbudikins !’ 
 said he, ‘ go, or I’ll turn you up as I would a hare.’ 
 Villars was a man of courage, and had been in the 
 army, so that this threat did not daunt him ; but 
 putting the muzzle of the gun aside, he laid hold 
 of Robert. Jack, seeing his companion overpower- 
 ed, let go his hold of me, to assist him. Finding 
 myself at liberty, I fled from them as fast as I 
 could, and crossed the fields until I reached the 
 highway. I walked smartly forward, determined 
 to proceed to London, and, when settled, to give 
 my mother the reasons for not returning home. 
 
 I overtook a decent looking woman, driving an ass. 
 She noticed my disordered dress, and very kindly 
 asked me what was the matter. I told her that I 
 had run away from my master, who would have 
 me comply with what was not proper. ‘ I approve 
 of your discretion,’ said she, ‘ and will interest my- 
 self in your behalf. If you want a place, follow 
 me : I have a daughter in London, to whom I will 
 recommend you ; as she is in a good place, she may 
 be serviceable to you. These are her clothes I am 
 carrying to Newark, to meet with the London wag- 
 gon. You may, if you will, take the same convey- 
 ance.’ 
 
 Lgladly accepted this offer. I was pleased with 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 41 
 
 the idea of residing near to where the earl gener- 
 ally lived. ‘ I am much obliged to you,’ said I to 
 her, ‘for your kind offer, and accept of it very 
 willingly.’ — ‘Well,’ said she, ‘I will speak to the 
 carrier ; and if you cannot pay the fare, I will lay 
 down the money, and you may repay it to my 
 daughter when you are able.’ 
 
 When my mother came to the castle, she had 
 given me about fifteen shillings, to buy some little 
 things which girls need. I had the money about 
 me, and told the woman I had what would bear 
 my charges. 
 
 We had walked about two miles, talking in 
 this manner, when my guide proposed to take 
 breakfast. I was overjoyed to hear of eating, 
 being almost famished. She pulled some bacon 
 and bread out of a wallet, and we seated ourselves 
 under the shade of some willows, on the bank of a 
 clear rivulet ; while the ass readily stopped to graze, 
 I enjoyed the meal very much. 
 
 While we refreshed ourselves, the good woman 
 looked at me earnestly, and the tears trickled down 
 apace. * Alas ! goody,’ I cried, ‘ what is the mat- 
 ter F You seem troubled.’ — ‘ Ah !’ said she, wiping 
 her eyes, ‘you put me so much in mind of my 
 daughter Phillis, that’s dead and gone ! When 
 about your age, she was very like you. Would to 
 God she had been less handsome, for it was her 
 beauty that brought her to the grave. Poor girl ! 
 she was no less amiable for her virtue. X will tell 
 you her whole history as we go along. 
 
 STORY OP PHILLIS NEWTON. 
 
 Breakfast being over, we went forwards. My new 
 friend begun thus ‘ Be attentive, Mary (for I had taken 
 tbis name when I joined her) to my relation : it may be 
 of advantage to you. Young women are often courted ; 
 and yet how few have proper discretion : for nothing can 
 be an equivalent for their virtue. I mourn every day for 
 the loss of Phillis ; but I had much rather think her 
 happy in heaven, than see her covered with infamy on 
 earth. Where honour is the only thing a person can 
 value herself upon, she cannot be too careful to secure it. 
 
42 
 
 rosini; OR, 
 
 ‘ In these sentiments I trained my daughter ; and the 
 good effect they produced, as she grew up, gave me great 
 comfort. My husband was an excise officer, and after 
 our marriage, was ordered to Bath. Here we lived hap- 
 pily during two years ; when my husband, whose name 
 was William Newton, died. I had been tenderly brought 
 up, and now found myself cast destitute on the world, and 
 pregnant of my third daughter. Necessity, however, 
 roused me from my usual state of indolence. ' I collected 
 my energies, felt confidence in myself, and entered into 
 business as a confectioner My industry was rewarded, 
 and I was enabled to bring up my children decently. My 
 poor Phillis was soon admired for her beauty, and a cer- 
 tain air of ease and elegance much above her rank. As 
 she approached to womanhood, I seldom permitted her 
 to attend to my shop: so many gay young gentlemen 
 calling in and loitering about. 
 
 ‘ When Phillis was nineteen years of age, I began to 
 perceive that she was consuming by some hidden grief, 
 and had strong symptoms of decline. She was very dear 
 to me, and her pining in this manner overwhelmed me 
 with grief. As for myself, I thought I had no ways con- 
 tributed towards it, being ready even to anticipate her 
 wishes in every thing I knew was agreeable to her ; and 
 as her fondness for dress was no secret to me, I supplied 
 her plentifully with means to indulge herself in it, so 
 that few young women made a better appearance. But 
 melancholy still prevailed. I often pressed her to tell 
 me the cause ; but she pretended to be ignorant of it her- 
 self, till at last she was so ill as to take to her bed, and I 
 left the shop, that I might not be interrupted in attend- 
 ing upon her. Physicians were sent for ; but they could 
 not find out her distemper. In a word, my heart was 
 ready to break when I saw her thus reduced. 
 
 ‘ One day, finding herself something better than usual, 
 I pressed her so earnestly to acquaint me with the cause 
 of her illness, that, fetching a deep sigh, she spoke in the 
 following manner : — ‘ Your tenderness, dear mother, lays 
 me under an obligation of satisfying you on this subject. 
 It cannot be deferred any longer. I must shortly give an 
 account of my whole life to the Almighty, and I should 
 think it an addition to my guilt not to acknowledge to 
 you my weakness. Can there be a greater than to fall in 
 love with a man, and then inform him of it ? The vio- 
 lence of my passion has brought me to this condition. 
 Oh ! mother, do not blush for me : the grave will expiate 
 this involuntary offence.’ 
 
 * 4 No, my dear child, no,’ said I to her, moved to com- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 43 
 
 passion with the fear of losing her ; ‘ God will preserve 
 you, and pardon your weakness. He will second your 
 virtuous education. I will prevail upon heaven by my 
 earnest prayers to restore you to me. Dear child ! I can 
 never outlive thee.’ — ‘Your sincere piety,’ replied she, 
 
 * will enable you to bear our separation. For my sake, dear 
 mother, dry up your tears : they pierce me to the heart.’ 
 
 * She cried too, dear girl ! Ah ! Mary, how I was moved I 
 Methought the tears I shed on that occasion were the 
 forerunners of those that would bewail her death. My 
 daughter then said, ‘You may remember, dear mother, 
 the evening when a severe bleeding at the nose compell- 
 ed you to retire up stairs ; and I took your place in the 
 shop. Being alone, I took up a book to amuse myself. 
 The passage I chanced to dip into affected me so much 
 as to draw tears from my eyes ; it was the Sorrows of 
 Werter. Fatal day ! Dangerous book for young per- 
 sons leaving the mind susceptible of the softest impres- 
 sions ! Just at that moment two young gentlemen came 
 into the shop, one of whom was beauty itself. They call- 
 ed for some lemonade ; and the person I just now de- 
 scribed behaved and spoke with such inimitable grace, as 
 both charmed and troubled me at once. He pereeived 1 
 had been crying ; and having informed himself of the 
 cause, ‘ How amiable you appear,’ said he to me, ‘ when 
 to such enchanting beauty is added a tenderness capable 
 of moving you thus at the misfortunes of others ! You 
 weep then for Werter? Happy man! who would not 
 envy him on this occasion? Learn from hence, if any 
 one should be so much enamoured with you as he was 
 with Charlotte, not to make him wretched. The young 
 gentleman’s friend went out, promising to call upon him 
 as soon as the affair was despatched. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Thus was I left alone with the gentleman. I know 
 not whether he expressed himself in a better manner 
 than those who had hitherto made their addresses ; or 
 that my heart, softened by the fatal passage I had just 
 been reading, was in that situation in which the assaults 
 of love find the least resistance. Whatever was the cause, 
 it received the impression, even before he declared his 
 passion, and could not disguise my feelings. His trans- 
 port was so great, that he threw himself at my feet, kiss- 
 ed m.v hand, and gave many respectful marks of his love. 
 I blush to think I could be so weak as to suffer it, and 
 feel from thence an unworthy satisfaction. Ah ! mother, 
 why did you leave me alone ? 
 
 ‘‘It grew late. The shop was still open. I was for 
 taking leave of the young gentleman ; but the ingrate 
 
44 rosini; or, 
 
 seemed to be so troubled, that I was moved. One quar- 
 ter of an hour I could not refuse : his life, he said, de- 
 pended upon it. This unhappy complaisance, which 
 every young woman ought to banish, he improved to his 
 advantage, by giving fresh tokens of his love. His soft 
 voice, his lively expression, his languishing eyes, infected 
 my mind. 4 Alas ! you love me, sir,’ said I to him, with 
 great simplicity ; ‘ and I cannot refrain from letting you 
 know you are the first I ever suffered to address me thus. 
 In all appearance, your condition is far superior to mine : 
 what effect, then, can be expected from our mutual affec- 
 tion, or to what purpose will you have conquered my in- 
 clinations? Oh ! leave me: I blame myself for having 
 listened to you so long.’— ‘ How !’ replied he, with an air 
 of melancholy, ‘ do you think me capable of abusing so 
 much goodness? No, my charming Phillis, could my 
 breast harbour so vile a thought, this hand, at the expense 
 of my life, should avenge your cause. To you I vow an 
 eternal constancy. Neither is my condition so much 
 above yours as you seem to imagine. I am the son of Mr. 
 Thornhill, a Bristol merchant, and have a fair prospect 
 of making my fortune shortly ; and such as it proves, I 
 am ready to share it with you.’ These sentiments gave 
 me new courage ; a young woman is never startled at 
 love when founded on a principle of virtue and esteem ; 
 yet how delicate a point is it to listen to its suggestions ! 
 How frequently do villains abuse this honourable pre- 
 text to the ruin of young creatures ! 
 
 * * We parted with regret, and this first interview con- 
 firmed to him an eternal fidelity on my side. I went to 
 bed full of what had passed, and composed myself to rest 
 with a satisfaction and serenity of mind I had never be- 
 fore experienced. Pardon me, dear mother, for carrying 
 on so privately this intrigue for six months. My lover 
 gave me to understand, that as yet it was not convenient 
 to disclose the secret to you, that his affairs were on the 
 point of being concluded, and insisted on having the satis- 
 faction of informing you himself. The reasons he gave for 
 his conduct appeared so satisfactory, that I even contrived 
 opportunities for his seeing me, and keeping the affair 
 from your knowledge. I waited with great tranquillity 
 for the happy moment in which so tender an amour was 
 to be crowned with success. I relied entirely on his hon- 
 our ! Vain confidence I as if men were capable of any such 
 thing ! 
 
 * * One night, about ten o’clock, Henry, my lover, came 
 tome. ‘My lovely Phillis,’ said he, ‘I am obliged to 
 leave you ; and my absence from you will certainly 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 45 
 
 bring me to the grave. Restore my heart to its usual 
 tranquillity. Yes,’ continued he, throwing himself at my 
 feet, and bathing my hand with his tears, ‘ I am the most 
 forlorn of mankind if you deny me the favour I am going 
 to ask. The restraint I have laid on myself, and my re- 
 spect for you, have made me undergo more than tongue 
 can express for the last six months ; and can you let me 
 go without securing to me my only happiness?’ * I need 
 not inform you,’ replied I, affected at his distress, * that I 
 love you more than life : nevertheless, what do you ask ?’ 
 — * Alas ! Phillis,’ replied he, ‘ my desires know no other 
 measure than that of my love of you !’ — 4 Of yourself,' re- 
 plied I ; ‘ the indulging your own appetites ; without re- 
 flecting that it must be at the expense of all that is most 
 dear to me in the world— my honour, my reputation, my 
 peace.’ — ‘ What is it you mean ?’ cried he, lifting his eyes 
 to heaven : ‘to whom are all these dearer than to me? 
 Do you know me, and yet use these expressions? No, 
 Phillis, injure me not so cruelly as to think me capable of 
 so black a crime. Your heart long since has declared it- 
 self in my behalf: that is security enough for the up- 
 rightness of my intentions. It is your consent to marry 
 me I ask. To-morrow must make me yours, or, by all that 
 is sacred, I am gone forever.’ 
 
 * ‘ I trembled to hear so solemn a protestation. How 
 weak are we when entangled in love ! I sighed : he urged 
 his request, and at last gained my consent to marry him 
 privately. The reasons he alleged were of great conse- 
 quence ; his ruin was inevitable, he said, should his mas- 
 ter discover that he designed to marry, he having a pri- 
 vate object in view that related to his own daughter. 
 ‘ Let us, then, secure the main point,’ said he, * and I will 
 work through the rest. If he should find out that we are 
 married I shall, at least, be the better able to stand by you, 
 and have a sufficient excuse for abandoning his service.’ 
 
 ‘ * Do not you remember, dear mother, that I asked 
 your leave to visit an old school-fellow about six miles 
 off? It was under that pretext that I was to go to be 
 married. Every thing was prepared, and we parted in 
 tnat expectation. I had never loved him so much be- 
 fore, nor ever given him such convincing proofs. Hea- 
 vens ! that in one moment so fair a prospect should 
 vanish, and the blackest of treasons come to light ! 
 
 “As my lover went out of the shop, two young gentle- 
 men, exceedingly well dressed, met him at the door, He 
 was no sooner gone, than one said to the other, ‘ Was not 
 that Colonel Brookes who passed us?’ — ‘Yes,’ answer- 
 ed the other ; ‘ but do not speak so loud. He squeezed 
 
46 
 
 rosina; or 
 
 me by the hand, which indicates there is some mystery 
 carrying on : I suppose he makes love to Phillis here.’ I 
 no sooner heard this, than I stood close to the partition 
 between the shop and the closet, the place we used to 
 meet in. I could hear all that passed, and ordered the 
 maid to serve them, bidding her say I was gone to bed 
 if any one asked for me. I placed myself so conveniently 
 as not to lose one word of their discourse. 
 
 * ‘ I should easily believe it,’ said one of the gentlemen, 
 in answer to something that had passed between them ; 
 
 * but Phillis is as discreet as beautiful, and I cannot think 
 she has granted him the last favour.’ — ‘ So 1’ replied the 
 other, ‘ are you weak enough to imagine he would ac- 
 cept her No f Why, of twenty girls of her rank, are not 
 nineteen caught in our nets? Your over favourable 
 opinion imposes upon you. I am surprised at it.’ — ‘ You 
 may banter as you please,’ answered the first : ‘ I will 
 allow you to be right as to the generality of them ; but 
 as to the girl we are speaking of, I know to a demon- 
 stration she is really modest. A person of rank offered 
 her very considerably, and even proposed to settle a 
 handsome annuity upon her ; but to no purpose ' — ‘ It 
 may be,’ replied the other ; ‘ but can you imagine she 
 would refuse a person of rank who should propose mar- 
 riage to her? How can she avoid that snare? And the 
 colonel, in conducting an affair of this nature, sets so 
 many engines to work, that he seldom fails of success/ 
 
 ‘ ‘ Imagine, dear mother, my surprise and indigna- 
 tion ! ‘ Ah | villain !’ I cried out, not reflecting where I 
 was.— ‘ We are overheard,' said one of the gentlemen, 
 ‘ and by Phillis herself.’—' I am very sorry for it,’ replied 
 the other ; ‘we must prevail upon her not to speak of 
 of what she has heard.’ Up< n this they rushed into the 
 closet, where they found me n f ears. 
 
 ‘ ‘ They used their utmost < nd savours to comfort me ; 
 but I was ashamed to look them in the face, as if what I 
 had heard had made me guilty. They urged me very 
 earnestly to inform them what terms I was upon with the 
 colonel ; and as they appeared very much like gentlemen, 
 in consideration of the invaluable service they had done, 
 by giving me so much light into the affair, I related to 
 them the whole of my adventure. They pretended, at 
 least, to credit what I said. From them I learned that 
 Henry Thornhill was, in reality, the notorious Colonel 
 Sir Thomas Brookes. Before they left me, I was obliged 
 to promise not to give them up as the authors of my in- 
 formation ; and I was as good as my word. When they 
 retired, I threw myself into bed, in an agony not to be 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 47 
 
 expressed. I spent the night in contriving means of ab- 
 senting myself from the place appointed. In vain did 
 love plead for a perfidious man ; my resolution was never 
 to see him more ; a dear bought victory ! The struggles 
 I that night underwent were so violent as to throw me 
 into a fit of sickness. 
 
 ‘ The day following, our maid, whom he had bribed, 
 brought me a letter from the wretch ! I sent it back un- 
 opened ; and as I thought this a fresh attempt upon my 
 honour, I ordered him to be told I would hear no more 
 of him. A second letter came, and I behaved as I did 
 with respect to the first. The villain, finding he lost his 
 labour that way, sent me word by the maid, that he had 
 things of the last consequence to impart, very much to 
 my advantage ; and begged I would not condemn him 
 unheard. I was so provoked at the servant’s insolence, 
 having before reprimanded her severely on account of the 
 letters, that I prevailed with jou, under some other pre- 
 tence, to turn her away, as you may remember. 
 
 * ‘ A very few days after this, I was terribly surprised 
 one morning when I awoke to find my perfidious lover 
 kneeling at my bedside, and bathing one of my hands 
 with his guilty tears. I snatched it away with too much 
 confusion not to discover the ascendant he still had over 
 my affections. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Well then, charming Phillis, you no longer love me ?’ 
 said he with an air the most moving ; ‘ you refuse to see 
 or hear me ; you banish those who might inform you of 
 my faithful ardour. What is my crime ? Is it the con- 
 cealing my real name? If so, I own myself to be Sit 
 Thomas Brookes. I should not have denied it. What a 
 misfortune to have a more exquisite taste than the gen- 
 erality of mankind ! This has torn from me all that was 
 dear in the world. Who is to blame, Phillis or I ? Why 
 did she not keep her word? Why did she not come to 
 the place appointed ? There she might have discovered 
 whether it was the colonel, or his servant, that would 
 have married her. Ah ! lovely Phillis, why did you de- 
 prive me of the uncommon pleasure of so agreeably un- 
 deceiving you, by presenting a husband worthy of so 
 much merit ? I had proposed to be personally beloved, 
 and not beholden for the mighty gift to rank or fortune. 
 Such is my crime. I have done Pronounce my doom. 
 This justification I owed myself, and now have paid my 
 debt. Placed as I am on the brink of destruction I will 
 not survive the cruel misfortune of having been sus- 
 pected.’ 
 
 ‘ How weak are we when entangled with love 1 His 
 
48 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 words made an impression on me : they were plausible ; 
 and my heart, through prepossession, pleaded in behalf 
 of the traitor. But reason came to my assistance : X 
 could not forget the discourse I had overheard : the 
 speakers had no interest in the affair, being neither his 
 enemies nor rivals. This last reflection carried it, and I 
 would hear no more. The ingrate committed number- 
 less extravagances : he offered to kill himself, and actu- 
 ally put me in apprehension for his life. As much an 
 impostor as I thought him, I could not overcome my 
 fears. Somebody very luckily entering my room, he re- 
 tired, and convinced I was not to be deluded by his for- 
 geries. never more annoyed me with his presence. 
 
 ‘ ‘ When he was gone I blamed my too great severity. 
 The specious pretence under which he veiled his wicked 
 designs presented itself again ‘ what a wretch am I if 
 I have wronged him ! Perhaps he really loves me. Per- 
 haps he tells the truth. Stay, charmer ; I will clear these 
 frightful doubts.’ I thought of a thousand ways, to lay 
 open this interesting mystery ; but, alas ! what I had heard 
 proved but too true. I chanced shortly after, to meet 
 with a case of his too successful villainy ; and she con- 
 vinced me I had placed my affections on a monster. I 
 often blushed to think of my narrow escape, but still 
 loved him to excess, and suffered cruelly on that ac- 
 count. 
 
 * For so lately it was that an officer, in a handsome 
 military undress, entered my chamber, while you were 
 occupied below, and enquired if I was Miss Newton. I 
 said, ‘ Yes.’ Then he exclaimed, ‘I think, my dear, from 
 your countenance, you deserve a better fate. My colo- 
 nel and friend, Sir Thomas Brookes, is about being mar- 
 ried to the only daughter of the Earl of Roscommon ; but 
 the young lady demurs, in consequence of the informa- 
 tion she has received of the colonel’s gallantries. Amongst 
 other things, she has been told, that he has conversed 
 with you as his wife, and that some kind of a private 
 marriage has taken place between you. Notwithstand- 
 ing the colonel’s most solemn protestations, she refuses 
 to allow the preparations for marriage to proceed until 
 convinced of his innocence. The colonel is in great con- 
 sternation, but hopes that your goodness will promptly 
 extricate him from this difficulty. Should you, however, 
 refuse to him this kindness, I am instructed to say that 
 
 he is prepared to punish your obstinacy in a ’ * Go, 
 
 go, sir,’ replied I, interrupting him, and provoked at such 
 menaces ; * tell him who has honoured you with such a 
 notable commission, I scorn him too much to concern 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 49 
 
 myself with his new engagements. But I could not have 
 imagined that, after having been guilty of so many im- 
 postures, he should crown the work with a shameful 
 threatening message to a young person he has offered to 
 marry. Saying this, I turned my back upon the gentle- 
 man, who went away much astonished at my haughty 
 behaviour. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Vain haughtiness ! useless outside appearance ! A 
 thousand times have I been torn to pieces with bitter re- 
 gret, too plainly convincing me of the excess of my pas- 
 sion. My lover gone f ever, and I am even sacrificed 
 to a rival ; nay, insulted by his ungenerous menaces ! 
 This it is, dear mother, which preys upon me, and has 
 reduced me to such a woeful condition. What is the 
 whole world to me ? The colonel is married, and all is 
 over V Her tears put an end to this melancholy relation. 
 I tried to comfort and restore her to health ; but the ill- 
 ness increasing, about a month afterwards she spoke to 
 me in the following manner : — 
 
 ‘ ‘My hour approaches,’ said she, 'and we must part: 
 I have not long to live. Comfort yourself, my dear mo- 
 ther, and do not oppress me with your sorrow. Nature 
 is too apt to shrink in this conflict : add not your tender- 
 ness to increase the struggle ; but, if you love me, refrain 
 from giving me so many marks of it. They shake the 
 steadiness which I now stand in need of more than ever. 
 Have recourse to God, and beseech him in my behalf. In 
 his mercy I place my trust. Above all, thank him for 
 having preserved my chastity through so many dangers. 
 What a comfort ! That treasure, at least, I shall carry 
 to the next life. Leave me to myself during those 
 precious moments he is pleased to allow me, that I may 
 employ them wholly in the great affair of salvation. Re- 
 ceive this last kiss, and pardon the uneasiness I give you. 
 Farewell, dear mother ; you move me too much.’ Say- 
 ing this, she turned her head away, and would not be 
 disturbed afterwards. She died as she had lived, that is, 
 in such sentiments of piety as afforded me a singular 
 consolation. After some time I submittel to Divine Pro- 
 vidence. Alas ! it cost me dear, and does still every day 
 of my life. Nor did our Christian neighbours at Bath by 
 their charity and kindness alleviate my grief. A mali- 
 cious report was circulated and believed, injurious to the 
 memory of my dear Phillis. It was said that she had 
 freely surrendered herself to her unprincipled lover, and 
 that she had died in child-bed. These unkind blows 
 fillel me with grief and indignation, and determined me 
 to leave a place where even the purest virtue afforded 
 
 D 
 
50 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 no protection. I therefore sold all my "oods, and return- 
 ed to my native place in Nottinghamshire, where I and 
 my youngest daughter gain our livelihood as dyers and 
 clear-starchers.’ ’ 
 
 Phillis’ mother wept bitterly, and I was much 
 moved, and cried very heartily. The favourable 
 opinion she had conceived of me was increased by 
 seeing such marks of an affectionate heart. Re- 
 flections naturally succeeded, which confirmed me 
 more and more in a steady adherence to virtue. I 
 believe this relation was designed as a preservative 
 against the dangers awaiting me in London. 
 
 We reached Newark just as the London waggon 
 was ready to set off. Mrs. Newton agreed for my 
 fare, and charged the waggoner to be very careful 
 of me. We then embraced each other with recip- 
 rocal feelings of regard, promising a mutual cor- 
 respondence in future. 
 
 As I rode, I had a thousand melancholy reflec- 
 tions. ; Oh !’ said I to myself, ‘ what am I doing ? 
 What will become of me F What will my mother 
 say P What ! can I leave a mother, bewailing my 
 absence at this very instant p No, no, I will go no 
 further,’ said I. ‘ I had better undergo the re- 
 proaches I so much dread, than expose myself 
 again to those very dangers I have so happily es- 
 caped. Yes, dear mother, had I never left you, I 
 should not now be involved in so many difficulties.’ 
 
 I resolved to return to the village. I was going 
 to bid the waggoner set me down, when I saw a 
 man riding full speed after us. My mind misgave 
 me ; but how great was my surprise, when I could 
 distinguish the face and uniform of Captain 
 Lambe ! Trembling with fear, I hid myself under 
 the coverlet of the waggon, where I lay for some 
 time quite motionless. At length, hearing no noise, 
 and growing impatient, I ventured gently to lift 
 the coverlet, and there was the captain, walking 
 his horse after the waggon, and conversing with 
 the driver, whom I had no doubt he was bribing to 
 assist in his designs. I knew not what to do — my 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATD. 
 
 51 
 
 ruin seemed inevitable. In a few minutes, I saw 
 another gentleman galloping along the road ; but, 
 on his approach, to my utter dismay he called out 
 to the captain, ‘ The bird’s flown, and I cannot 
 trace its flight.’ The villain Lambe significantly 
 pointed to the waggon. He then said, in an under- 
 tone, ‘ We have her now — but she suspects some- 
 thing — see how she hides herself.’ 
 
 * In the midst of my agonizing feelings, the 
 thought struck me, ‘ Surely God will never forsake 
 the innocent ;*■ and I felt more confident and col- 
 lected. The waggon now drove along a bad part 
 of the road, overshadowed with trees. ‘ This,’ 
 thought I, i is a fit place for perpetrating deeds of 
 darkness,’ and my fears returned with redoubled 
 violence. The narrow road and deep ruts had, 
 however, compelled the two vultures that were 
 hovering over me to strike into a by-path, which 
 at a short distance rejoined the high road. I eag- 
 erly seized the opportunity to rise up, and to look 
 around for some way of escape ; when, with a sud- 
 den impulse, I caught the overhanging branch of a 
 tree, and allowed the waggon to drive from under 
 me. By a vigorous spring I secured a foot-hold, 
 and climbed up into the thickest part of the tree, 
 where I sat pretty well secured from observation. 
 I soon saw the horsemen rejoin the waggon, and 
 the driver retired to a short distance. One of the 
 gentlemen dismounted, got upon the waggon, and 
 lifted the coverlet. He remounted his horse, and, 
 speaking to his companion, they rode off in different 
 directions. I returned thanks for my deliverance. 
 
 In about two hours, I unexpectedly heard a voice 
 below me say, ‘ ’Tis of no use to search at such a 
 distance. Here we lost her, and she must still be 
 hid somewhere hereabouts. Look you through this 
 wood, and I'll go to yon rising ground, where I 
 can see its outskirts. We’ll have her, my boy.’ I 
 was thankful for this information, as I had nearly 
 ventured down, when I should have fallen into their 
 clutches. 
 
52 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 Night now approached. My strength and pa- 
 tience were nearly exhausted, and ray heart began 
 to sink within me. I tearfully mourned the cruel- 
 ty of my situation ; when a chariot, accompanied 
 by two horsemen, appeared, and in which I per- 
 ceived a lady and a little girl. My resolution was 
 now taken ; but, in my haste to descend, my gown 
 got entangled amongst the branches, and, losing 
 my footing, I was left dangling in the air. My 
 screams brought the two horsemen to my assist- 
 ance, and I was presently disengaged. ‘ Good 
 God !’ said one of them, ‘ you must be very fond of 
 bird-nesting, pretty maid, to expose yourself to 
 such dangers.’ But I made no reply — no time was 
 to be lost, for I saw my pursuer galloping down 
 the hill ; while the chariot, which my screams had 
 stopped, was about to proceed. I ran forwards, 
 exclaiming, in extreme agony, ‘ Save me, madam — 
 for God’s sake, save me— a villain offers me vio- 
 lence !’ and I dropped on my knees before the car- 
 riage door. The lady looked upon my youthful, 
 and agitated countenance, with surprise and com- 
 passion. ‘Poor child!’ said she, 4 help her in; it 
 were a pity any mischief should befall her.’ In a 
 moment the chariot drove on. My protectress ask- 
 ed me the cause of my alarm, when I told her of 
 the persecutions I suffered from Captain Lambe. 
 4 This, indeed,’ said she, ‘ is wickedness, and a de- 
 fiance of law. But you are safe here. None of 
 the Lambe family dare disturb you while under my 
 protection.’ Soon the captain drew up by the side 
 of the carriage. I screamed ; when the lady, 
 raising her voice, said, ‘ This is bravely done, noble 
 captain. Well, I shall have despatches now for 
 Dresden, and my congratulations for the viscountess 
 for such a hopeful heir.’ The captain reddened — bit 
 his lip — and rode away without making any reply. 
 ‘ Well, child,’ said the lady, ‘ make yourself easy. 
 That valiant hero, who disgraces his country’s uni- 
 form, will disturb us no more.’ 
 
 I blessed God for this happy change in mv con- 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 63 
 
 dition. My kind friend, I found, was the lady of 
 Sir William Beckford, a merchant and banker in 
 London, of the highest eminence. She was return- 
 ing with her daughter from a visit to Thoresby 
 Park. She was about forty years of age, very 
 handsome, and the sweetness of her temper was 
 most admirable. I strove to render myself agree* 
 able ; and I gained her affections. 
 
 The first night we slept at an inn in Grantham, 
 and next morning went to Cambridge, where we 
 dined at the house of an amiable young lady, who 
 had just married a barrister, then absent on a 
 visit to the Hardwicke family, to which he was re- 
 lated. The following day we reached the metropo- 
 lis, and were set down at the elegant house of Sir 
 William Beckford. The number of the servants, 
 and the magnificence of the furniture, proclaimed 
 the opulence of its owner. Sir William was over 
 fifty years of age, was very plain in his dress, and 
 unassuming in his manner. 
 
 The day after our arrival, Lady Beckford wrote 
 concerning me to the viscountess. Confident in the 
 uprightness and innocency of my conduct, I await- 
 ed the issue with calmness. The daughter of my 
 benefactress was an only child, and became much 
 attached to me. Though only twelve years of age, 
 she was very accomplished, and was constantly at- 
 tended by the best masters, who instructed her in 
 French, music, drawing, dancing, &c. When the 
 good lady observed the intense interest I took in 
 her daughter’s lessons, she requested the masters to 
 give me instructions also. Having naturally a 
 sweet-toned voice, the singing-master paid me great 
 attention ; and the whole complimented me on the 
 rapid progress I made. I had now got rid of my 
 fears, and at the same time forgot my resolution to 
 expel the earl from my thoughts. Whenever I 
 executed a task well, I immediately said to my- 
 self, ‘How pleased his lordship will be when he 
 observes the wonderful improvements I have 
 made !’ 
 
ROSINA ; OR. 
 
 u 
 
 One morning, whilst I was studying, a footman 
 came and told me that I was wanted by her lady- 
 ship. On entering the room, she said, ‘ Sit down, 
 Bosina ; I have received some letters concerning 
 you.’ I listened with fear and trembling. ‘ This,’ 
 said she, ‘ is from your god-mother, the vis- 
 countess. She speaks well of you ; but she informs 
 me of some things which it is better you neither 
 hear nor know of.’ ‘ The other,’ she proceeded, ‘ is 
 from her daughter. She gives you a very equivo- 
 cal character. She affirms that you are vain, de- 
 ceitful, and malicious. By much cunning, she says 
 you gained the affection of the Earl of Lemington, 
 whom her brother, the honourable captain, detect- 
 ed in carrying you off from his mother’s castle ; and 
 that this insult to the viscountess, and base return 
 for her hospitality, so enraged him, that he pun- 
 ished the earl on the spot. The Earl of Glenford, 
 the wounded young nobleman’s uncle, is enraged 
 at your vile, seductive arts, by which the life of his 
 heir has been endangered.’ 
 
 I burst into tears. ‘ These tears,’ said Lady 
 Beckford, ‘ convince me that one part of this letter 
 is true. The prejudice and hatred with which the 
 second part is dictated renders it unworthy of 
 credit. I know not why this young lady has con- 
 ceived such an antipathy against you, for you ap- 
 pear to be kind, open, and sweet-tempered.’ At 
 these words I shed a torrent of tears. ‘ Compose 
 yourself,’ said she, ‘ I did not send for you to give 
 you uneasiness. Behave yourself discreetly, and 
 I’ll take care of you.’ It appears that you have 
 been writing to your mother ; and yesterday I had a 
 letter, wherein your father and mother express a 
 wish that you should return home. But you may 
 go or stay.’—- 4 Ah ! madam,’ said I, much as I love 
 
 them ’ ‘ Well, well,’ said this amiable lady, 
 
 ‘I see you have some reasons for not complying 
 with their requests. Make yourself easy ; you 
 shall stay here while you are happy.’ 
 
 I retired, overwhelmed with so much goodness, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 55 
 
 and was proceeding to my own apartment, when 
 Sir William met me. ‘ What is the matter, my 
 pretty girl ?’ said he ; ‘ has any one been taking 
 you to task ? I shall be angry with Lady Beck- 
 ford ; for, except her, nobody jfiere dares to use you 
 ill. But be comforted ; I have been thinking of 
 making your fortune.’ — ‘ I am much obliged to 
 you, sir,’ answered I ; ‘ your lady’s kindness de- 
 mands a greater return than I can make. I never 
 experienced so much goodness.’ — ‘Pshaw! I can- 
 not believe that,’ said he ; you would scarce cry 
 for nothing. Some other time I shall enquire fur- 
 ther into this matter. Adieu. Saying this, he 
 squeezed my hand, and went to his lady. 
 
 I perceived that Sir William had conceived a 
 fondness for me. This alarmed me much. I had 
 contracted a large debt of gratitude to his excellent 
 lady, I felt comfortable and happy under her pro- 
 tection, and I trembled at the desperate acts which 
 I perceived men would commit in order to indulge 
 their appetites. 
 
 I longed to know what had happened to the 
 earl ; and as this temptation continually haunted 
 me, I was often induced to examine the outside of 
 the drawer in which it was locked up ; but all my 
 attempts to open it, proved unavailing. The Sun- 
 day following, I completed my design whilst the 
 lady was at church ; for having overstaid the time, 
 she forgot her keys in the hurry. Opening the 
 drawer, I found the letters, which I read very 
 hastily. 
 
 The first was that from the honourable Miss 
 Lambe. I ran it over very slightly. That of the 
 viscountess was of greater consequence ; I read it 
 several times. She spoke of me in very favourable 
 terms, but had a suspicion of a clandestine under- 
 standing between the earl and me. She said her 
 son had wounded him dangerously with a pistol 
 bullet ; that several reports had been spread con- 
 cerning the affair ; but that she had unravelled the 
 whole, by means of an old servant, whom she had 
 
66 rosina; or, 
 
 entrusted with the care of my education ; that his 
 lordship’s distress at not knowing what had become 
 of me plainly discovered the violence of his pas- 
 sion ; that she was under an indispensable obliga- 
 tion of cautioning his lordship’s uncle, her particu- 
 lar friend, to provid*e, in case his nephew should 
 recover, against the consequences of such an amour. 
 The letter concluded with advising my being sent 
 back to my parents ; that my charms might in time 
 occasion much mischief ; and that, if she thought 
 of keeping me with her, it would be absolutely 
 necessary to prevent my ever seeing the earl. 
 
 I folded up the letters, and carried them back in 
 a great hurry. Sir William coming in, just as I 
 was leaving his lady’s apartment. 
 
 ‘Oh! you are here, are you?’ said he. ‘Well, 
 pretty Rosina, is there any thing troubles you now ?’ 
 That air of assurance some women are fond of, is 
 not always a charm ; and I have heard gentlemen 
 acknowledge, that however fond they may be of 
 the sex, they are easier subdued by a modest car- 
 riage, than forward free behaviour. Sir William 
 Beckford was then an instance of this remark, by 
 extolling me beyond bounds. ‘ But,’ said he, ‘ you 
 make me no answer. Do you stand in awe of me ? 
 I am more your friend than you imagine ; for it is 
 owing to me that Lady Beckford shows you so 
 great a regard.’ Soon after I came thither, I had 
 a satin gown given me. The lady’s women were 
 very fond of me ; they taught me how to behave, 
 and their instructions were not lost. ‘ What say 
 you, Rosina ? Shall I reckon you in the number of 
 my friends ?’ — ‘ I could not wish for anything bet- 
 ter, sir,' I replied, without knowing the extent of 
 that word. — ‘ Ay, now you speak ; you are love it- 
 self. Upon this condition, you shall be as happy 
 as a queen. Adieu ! I fear Lady Beckford is com- 
 ing. As she is apt to be jealous, this would be suf- 
 ficient to make her run mad.’ 
 
 This language overwhelmed me with confusion— 
 I stood like a statue — I felt like a guilty criminal. 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 57 
 
 Just then Lady Beckford entered. ‘ What has 
 happened here ?’ said she. ‘ Sir William went 
 from hence hut now ; what has he been saying to 
 you ? Methinks you are thoughtful ; there is 
 something more than ordinary in it. Come, tell 
 me what has passed. My husband is amorous ; I 
 will lay a wager he is in love with you.’ — ‘ With 
 me, madam !’ replied I. ‘ Do not tell me any lies/ 
 said she ; 4 1 am not angry with you ; but if you 
 conceal anything, we shall be no longer friends.’ I 
 replied, 4 It is true Sir William has said some oblig- 
 ing things to me ; but it was only in consequence 
 of the favours for which I am beholden to you.’ — 
 4 Mighty well/ cried the lady, 4 that is to say, he 
 will love you for my sake. Tell me what he said/ 
 Upon this, I repeated his whole discourse. The 
 more I hesitated, the more her curiosity was raised. 
 4 Well, and what answer did you make?’ said she. 
 I repeated my words. 4 And what did he say to 
 that ?’ continued she. — 4 Ah ! madam, what very 
 much surprised me/ answered I, 4 and convinced 
 me I did not rightly understand the expression he 
 had used/ I related the rest of his discourse, and 
 she mused upon it a little. 
 
 4 Your tender years plead a pardon for your an- 
 swer/ said she; ‘but do you know to what you 
 have obliged yourself ? By virtue of what you 
 said, my husband will secure your person ; you are 
 his ; and, in that case, honour, reputation, and all 
 is gone/ — 4 God forbid !’ cried I, alarmed at what I 
 heard, 4 my heart would break to think I had given 
 the least cause for any such thing.’-— 4 1 believe it/ 
 replied the lady, 4 and you have done very well in 
 giving me this detail ; otherwise you might have 
 been fatally engaged, without suspecting any ill till 
 it had been too late to prevent it/ 
 
 The observations of my benefactress made a deep 
 impression on my mind. I resolved to trust to so 
 good and skilful a guide. I now condemned my- 
 self as a vile, unprincipled person, for reading let- 
 ters that did not belong to me. I resolved, as some 
 
58 rosina; or, 
 
 atonement for my offence, to throw myself upon 
 my knees — to confess my crime— and to pray for 
 forgiveness ; but shame and fear restrained me. 
 These feelings appeared in my troubled counte- 
 nance, which Lady Beckford attributed to my con- 
 fusion for having conversed so unguardedly with 
 her husband. 
 
 About a month after this, one of the lady’s 
 women, whom I much esteemed, came to my cham- 
 ber. ‘What, in bed still, lazy one!’ said she: 
 ‘ come, rise and dress yourself. I am going out, 
 and you must go with me. — ‘ With all my heart,’ 
 answered I, getting up ; ‘if you had given me the 
 least notice over night, I should have been ready 
 before this.’ 
 
 This servant was about sixty years of age, forty 
 of which she had passed in the family, and was 
 much respected. I made my court to her from the 
 beginning, for she had great authority in the house, 
 and that nothing was transacted without her ap- 
 probation. I had the greater reason to be fond of 
 her, having one day overheard her speak much in 
 my behalf to her lady. 
 
 We went in a hackney-coach to a silk mercer’s 
 in Bond street. She consulted me upon some 
 damask. I gave my opinion of what I liked, and 
 she fixed upon the piece I had fancied. She called 
 for some robes fit for autumn and spring ; I was 
 consulted, and expressed my mind as before. She 
 bought three dresses, and a morning-gown. Then 
 we drove to a sempstress, where she bought a 
 dozen fine laced shifts, and a dozen plain ones, 
 with other linen. Frem thence we went to Cran- 
 bourne Alley ; and here she bought head-dresses, 
 tippets, ribbons, and other like attire. We went to 
 other shops for stockings, gloves, &c. At last we 
 alighted at King’s street, St. James’, and were con- 
 ducted to an apartment nobly furnished. The old 
 servant I mentioned brought table-linen ; and a 
 footman, who by the livery I knew belonged to Sir 
 William Beckford* came in, laid the cloth and then 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 59 
 
 retired. I believed I was with a person of some 
 consideration, and looked upon her as a second 
 mistress. 
 
 My directress opened out our purchases, and, 
 taking one of the dress-robes, said, ‘ Come, let us 
 see how this will fit you.’ I put off my gown, and 
 tried it on. It fitted admirably ; and, on looking 
 into the glass, I thought I looked attractive. My 
 old companion perceived my vanity, and said, * You 
 are not mistaken, Rosina, for you are not only 
 handsome, you are really lovely. Now let me have 
 the pleasure of dressing your head according to my 
 fancy.’ She fell to curling my hair, and then put 
 me on one of the fine head-dresses. We have now 
 only to adorn these pretty ears a little better. Upon 
 this, she pulled out her purse, which was none of 
 the lightest, from whence she took a paper con- 
 taining a pair of brilliant ear-rings. ‘ What do 
 you think of them ?’ — ‘ Very fine,’ said I. — ‘ Well, 
 then, let us see if they become you as well as the 
 rest.’ I viewed myself : the alteration was so 
 great, that through surprise I was not able to 
 speak. And, indeed, Rosina was no more: a well- 
 made young lady, killingly handsome, had taken 
 her place ; the red gave new lustre to my eyes ; 
 and I thought myself transcendantly charming. 
 
 Just then a dress-maker came in. ‘Come, Miss,’ 
 said my directress, ‘ put off that robe for a little, 
 that your measure may be taken. You must have 
 some fashionable dresses. Mrs. Andrews is, I 
 think, the cleverest hand in London for setting off 
 a fine shape.’ These expressions in a moment 
 opened my eyes. I instantly saw clearly into the 
 whole affair. This old demure-looking domestic 
 was evidently a wicked woman, the betrayer of in- 
 nocence, and a base traitor to her own mistress, for 
 whom I thought all this finery had been intended. 
 ‘ O heavens !’ said I to myself, ‘ am I never to be 
 secured from the arts of the vile and unprincipled ?’ 
 
 In a short time the dress-maker was employed in 
 taking my measure. I stole a look at her face. 1 
 
60 rosina; or, 
 
 liked it much. Honour and honesty seemed to he 
 combined with sorrow and compassion. This was 
 some relief ; but then how could she save me from 
 the threatened mischief F A thought struck me, 
 and I expressed a desire to be left alone. My 
 wicked directress laughed, and said there was none 
 present with whom I might not make free. But I 
 appeared so ashamed, that she cried out, * Let her 
 have her own way ; she is a mere child, and every 
 trifle startles her : in a little time she will know 
 better.’ When they had left the room, I snatched 
 up a scrap of paper, and with my pencil wrote the 
 following note : — 
 
 * Dear madam, — Rosina is undone, unless you snatch 
 her from the precipice on whose brink she stands. The 
 bearer will tell you where I am.’ 
 
 This I directed to ‘ Lady Beckford, Grosvenor 
 Square.’ I determined to give it open to Mrs. An- 
 drews, the dress-maker. I was confident she was 
 a virtuous woman, for she had often sighed when 
 she looked at me. Whilst she was folding up the 
 things, I approached her under some pretence, and, 
 slipping the note into the parcel, said, in an em- 
 phatic whisper, ‘ God will reward you.' 
 
 Scarcely had these words escaped my lips, when 
 Sir William Beckford entered. I was thunder- 
 struck at his appearance, and looked like death it- 
 self. ‘ What a charming creature !’ cried he, not 
 observing my perplexity : ‘ I was not mistaken ; is 
 there any thing can surpass this ?’ He approach- 
 ed and viewed me on all sides (the others had left 
 the room.) ‘ Well, my charmer, you are not dis- 
 pleased with your condition I hope ? Is not the 
 master’s service as good as the mistress’s ? But all 
 this is nothing in comparison of what has to come. 
 The first moment I saw you, I pronounced you 
 happy. Come, my pretty creature, why will you 
 not talk with me ? You are melancholy : what is 
 the matter F Do you fancy any thing? Some 
 jewel P perhaps a ring P accept of this ; it is yours.’ 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 61 
 
 Saying this, he took a fine diamond from his fin- 
 ger, and presented it ; but I thrust it aside. ‘ Let 
 me alone, sir,’ said I ; ‘ keep your presents to your- 
 self ; they are infectious. Little did I expect such 
 favours, and much less an adventure of this sort. 
 God knows my heart, I never intended to give you 
 the least encouragement.’ — ‘ How !’ cried he, grave- 
 ly ; ‘ I have misunderstood you certainly ; or what 
 is it you mean ? When I offered to provide for 
 you, did not you give your consent ?’ — ‘ Not in the 
 least, sir,’ answered I ; ‘ I am unacquainted with 
 your manner of expressing things, and we did not 
 understand one another.’ — ‘ Why, what did you 
 understand then ?’ said he, interrupting me. — ‘ That 
 you make an offer of your friendship,’ replied I. — 
 4 But nevertheless,’ continued he, ‘ you have 
 
 brought yourself into ’ ‘ Ah ! not at all, sir,* 
 
 answered I, in tears ; 4 you are too much of a gen- 
 tleman to use violence.’ — ‘How!’ said he, inter- 
 rupting me very calmly, ‘ you do not know me 
 surely. I love you too well to give you the least 
 uneasiness ; and nothing shall be enacted that is 
 incompatible with your tranquillity. Dry up your 
 tears, my lovely Bosnia; reign sole mistress of 
 yourself and me ; nobody shall control you ; inde- 
 pendent of all about you, their only study shall be 
 to obey your orders. The return you may here- 
 after think fit to make for all this, lies entirely in 
 your own breast. This apartment is yours, and 
 whatever else you can fancy shall be provided 
 without delay.’ 
 
 All this was so far from allaying my apprehen- 
 sions, that it only served to increase them. ‘ How 
 unhappy am I,’ cried I, ‘ that you should entertain 
 so ill an opinion of me ! Better far to be in my 
 grave than to accept of such presents.’ Good God ! 
 what obligations must I lie under!' — ‘ None at all,* 
 replied he : ‘ I will not influence your affections ; 
 dispose of them as you shall judge proper. The 
 liberty of seeing you from time to time, and oblig- 
 ing you in every thing, is all I ask ; a sufficient re- 
 
G2 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 compence for the greatest services I am able to 
 perform. No, Bosina, I give you my word, I look 
 for no return. Your niceness in this affair, far 
 from giving the least disgust, charms me infinitely, 
 and raises my esteem to an equal pitch with my 
 love ; and whatsoever my passion may be, you 
 shall never have any reason to complain. 
 
 The candour and kindness with which Sir William 
 expressed himself carried conviction to my mind. 
 When experience is wanted, appearances will al- 
 ways be trusted. I therefore felt confident of his 
 virtue and honour. I even blamed myself for 
 having suspected so good a man; nor was I in this 
 instance mistaken, for, from that moment, the con- 
 duct of Sir William proved that he was capable of 
 putting in practice the generous maxims he had 
 laid down. As I was alone, I consulted the glass 
 upon those beauties I had heard so often extolled ; 
 I examined my several features, and applauded 
 my own charms ! the stuffs were rich. ‘ Were I in 
 such clothes,’ said I to myself, ‘ and seen by the 
 earl, I might not for the future, perhaps, be so long 
 without hearing from him. But where is the harm,’ 
 continued I, ‘in accepting of these fine things ? I 
 am not obliged to make any return.’ But then I 
 reflected that I must now be in some improper 
 place ; that even if Lady Beckford did not receive 
 my note, yet I was bound in honour and gratitude 
 to return ; and that it would be mean to live at the 
 expense of a gentleman to whom I could never 
 think of making the return he expected. At last, 
 I put off all the finery in which I had been decked. 
 
 The old waiting-woman now returned. ‘ How 
 now, pretty Bose,’ said she ; ‘ you have let my 
 master go away. He seemed much disturbed. 
 Sure you would not say any thing disagreeable to 
 him.’ — ‘ No,’ answered I ; ‘ though at first I thought 
 he seemed to drive at something improper.’ — ‘ He !’ 
 cried the waiting- woman, ‘ alack ! you know little 
 of him : a very moderate compliance will purchase 
 presents without end from him. Go, he deserves 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 
 
 63 
 
 yon should be a little more complaisant. Few wo- 
 men in London would scruple to — ’ ‘Very fine ! 
 very fine indeed !’ cried Lady Beckford, who at 
 that moment had entered the room ; ‘ a pious ex- 
 hortation truly to a young girl ! Wicked wretch, 
 I am glad I know thee. Heavens ! who would 
 have thought that I should be so long imposed 
 upon by thy hypocrisy ! Begone, vile dissembler; 
 begone this instant. See my face no more ; for, 
 depend upon it, if ever thou again enterest into my 
 presence, thou shalt feel the effects of an injured 
 woman’s indignation. Good God!’ continued she, 
 throwing herself exhausted into an easy chair, 
 
 ‘ that ever I should employ such a creature !’ But 
 the wretch did not stay to hear all this out, the first 
 apostrophe being sufficient to pack her off. 
 
 The lady, recovering herself, and looking on me 
 with great kindness, ‘ Your discretion I shall never 
 forget,’ said she ; ‘ the note you sent was brought 
 in great haste by the honest creature, who took a 
 coach and drove to my house instantly. Do not 
 fear Sir William. Occasionally he has betrayed 
 weakness by improper connexions ; but such errors 
 have always been soon abandoned, for he has too 
 much honour to persevere in vice. Your modest 
 behaviour must have made a deep impression upon 
 his mind; and, having ascertained your real char- 
 acter, he will be the first man to encourage you for 
 having done your duty. It is that wicked woman 
 that has prompted my husband to this conduct. 
 Looking on the table at the things provided for me, 
 ‘ Poor child !’ she said, beholding my head-dress 
 and paint ; ‘ seducing allurements, so often fatal to 
 youth !’ This detail shamed me very much ; I 
 snatched up a napkin, and demolished my patches 
 and paint. ‘ Embrace me, my dear Rosina,’ said 
 the good lady ; ‘ I am charmed with your virtuous 
 indignation ; now you are fit to appear. We must 
 order up the master or mistress of the house : I 
 would fain know in whose name these lodgings 
 have been taken.* 
 
64 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 The mistress of the house said that Sir William 
 hired the lodgings and furnished them ; that she 
 did not know my name, but the gentleman had as- 
 sured her I was a married woman, and come to 
 London in order to sue for a separate maintenance, 
 my husband squandering away his effects in con- 
 tinued debaucheries; and that he had received 
 great recommendation in my behalf, being related 
 to the best families in Lincolnshire. ‘ The story is 
 well contrived,’ replied the lady ; ‘ but I can assure 
 you that it is all a fiction. Adieu,’ continued she ; 
 ‘ another time be more circumspect who you take 
 into your house.’ Saying this, she locked up every 
 thing, we got into the coach, and returned home. 
 
 A few minutes after our arrival, a note was re- 
 ceived from Sir William’s cashier, stating that his 
 master had been obliged to go into the country on 
 business. It turned out that the old domestic, 
 when detected by her ladyship, had hastened to 
 inform Sir William, at his office in Gracechurch 
 Street. 
 
 As soon as Sir William arrived at his seat, he 
 wrote to beg pardon of his Lady for what was past, 
 assuring her she should have no reason to complain 
 of his future conduct ; and, as a proof of his sin- 
 cerity, he was willing I should be sent home. The 
 lady read me his letter, and her answer to it. She 
 told him he was to blame ; that perhaps it is im- 
 possible at all times to command the inclinations, 
 and if his always ended so innocently, it would be 
 very well ; that she herself had a particular regard 
 for me ; and that she had no thoughts of sending 
 me away, being very secure in my discretion. The 
 letter concluded with assurances of the tenderest 
 affection. Did every wife behave in this manner, 
 as often as the nuptial state lies under a cloud, di- 
 vorces would not be much in vogue. 
 
 Lady Beckford was so fond of me as to make no 
 distinction between her daughter and me. Under 
 the masters who attended her, I had sung with so 
 much judgment as to gain the applause of all visi- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 65 
 
 tors. Miss Beckford also, far from resembling the 
 Honourable Miss Lambe, loved me very tenderly, 
 and was never easy in my absence. Sir William’s 
 love-fit was mellowed into a paternal affection of 
 which he soon gave me very convincing proofs. 
 
 Several of the gentlemen that visited at Sir Wil- 
 liam’s paid me much attention ; but the most im- 
 portunate was Adam Fleming, Esq., a stock-broker. 
 When a youth, he had left Scotland very poor ; but 
 by frugality and skilful management, he had be- 
 come immensely rich. Such was his penetration 
 and knowledge of the funds, that his opinion, or 
 his buying or selling freely, always affected the 
 market at the Stock Exchange, and much defer- 
 ence was paid to his opinion. 
 
 But though I saw that Mr. Fleming was the con- 
 stant object of respect, yet I could not help think- 
 ing that he was very disagreeable. Yet being the 
 friend of Sir William, and apparently sincere in 
 his endeavours to please me, some regard was cer- 
 tainly his due. Lady Beckford once said that she 
 would feel herself happy could she form a match 
 between us. I was in hopes that my mean birth 
 would prove a sufficient obstacle. But Mr. Flem- 
 ing came from nothing himself, and he looked upon 
 extraction as no more than a lucky hit, and conse- 
 quently did not feed upon such illustrious chimeras. 
 
 His person was not prepossessing ; on the other 
 hand, it was forbidding, his leaning form, and his 
 facial appearance, very unattractive. His mouth 
 was very large, and the upper lip projected over, 
 and completely hid the under one from observa- 
 tion ; but when he laughed, his prodigious odd 
 tusks gave him a most carnivorous appearance. 
 His forehead was sloping rather monkeyfied. He 
 was round-shouldered ; his feet displeased me most. 
 They were enormously large ; his heels projected a 
 good way behind, and his toes seemed to lie quite 
 parallel in a straight line. 
 
 This gallant loved me as much as he could. 
 Every day, when business was finished, he visited 
 
 E 
 
66 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 me ; and being highly esteemed by both Sir Wil- 
 liam and his lady, I dared not to aifront him. But 
 I extracted much amusement from his droll figure 
 and humorous conversation ; for I still thought 
 such a being could not be capable of love like other 
 men. 
 
 One day, he entered while I was sitting alone at 
 work. He appeared more awkward than I had 
 ever before observed him. He walked to the fire, 
 handled the ornaments on the mantel-piece, and 
 then, turning suddenly around, he said very ab- 
 ruptly, ‘ Lay by that useless task ; will you never 
 be tired with embroidering?’ — ‘ Why so?’ answer- 
 ed I.— ‘ Ah ! ah !’ continued he, ‘ I have something 
 very important to say to you.’ 
 
 ‘ Do you know that for these eight months, six 
 days, and four hours, I have been in love with 
 you ? You laugh, but this is not a trifle to be 
 jested with. The deuce ! a Fleming in love ! why 
 there never was such a thing known in our family 
 before. Till now I never looked at a woman but 
 through the wrong end of the perspective ; the 
 miracle was reserved for you ! Before I knew you, 
 I had not time to eat, or sleep, being so taken up 
 with business ; at present, I eat, sleep, and now 
 and then spend a penny ; wonderful effects of my 
 passion ! 
 
 Mr. Fleming embellished his declaration with all 
 the oratory peculiar to a stock-broker. What I re- 
 member is, that he compared me to a large sum, 
 the procuring of which was to be his concern ; and 
 he concluded with saying that he foresaw the price 
 would be enhanced upon him, through the number 
 of bidders ; but that he was resolved to carry his 
 point at the sale. Sir William argued very strong- 
 ly in favour of the match, and his lady was bent 
 upon it. 
 
 I was no sooner apprised that the affair was in a 
 manner concluded upon, than I yielded to fear. I 
 called to mind all that ever the earl had said and 
 vowed to me. ‘ Heavens !’ cried I to myself, ‘ is it 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 67 
 
 possible he should forget it at all ? and in so long a 
 time, never once to let me hear from him ! And 
 yet how much did I confide in it ! False deceitful 
 men !’ A torrent of tears succeeded. 
 
 One morning, while I was overwhelmed with 
 such reflections Biddy came dancing into my room, 
 crying, 4 What will you give me for my good news?* 
 I had wiped my eyes on hearing her come ; but she 
 saw the marks. 4 What ails you P’ said she, 4 you 
 have been crying ; something troubles you which is 
 kept secret from me. At present let me tell you, 
 your mother is in the house, and is now coming up 
 stairs/ 
 
 This news surprised and overjoyed me. What 
 an endearing comfort to see a mother after so long 
 an absence ! I ran to throw myself into her arms, 
 and she embraced me with great affection. What 
 a happiness ! My sister accompanied her. By 
 turns I gave them the most ardent marks of the 
 transports I felt, and then conducted them to my 
 chamber. Our discourse at first was desultory. By 
 degrees I became acquainted with our family af- 
 fairs. My father was in good health, and on his 
 way hither. Robert Danby had married my sister 
 out of pure spite. I was pleased at this news for 
 my sister’s sake ; the young fellow had a good dis- 
 position, and could make her easy in her circum- 
 stances. 
 
 The steward, hearing my relatives were come, 
 sent breakfast into my chamber; and I exerted 
 myself in doing the honours of the house, finding 
 great satisfaction in it. My sister stared at me 
 with astonishment. 4 Look, mother,’ said she, 4 she 
 is no longer our Rose : this is a fine Lady. How 
 she is dressed ! what linen !’ I had on a morning- 
 gown, nothing extraordinary, yet was much pleased 
 with being taken notice of. 
 
 4 Do you know, Rosina,’ said my mother, after 
 breakfast, 4 what has brought me hither ? — To see 
 you married.’ That word made me turn pale. To 
 whom P I could think of nobody but Mr. Fleming. 
 
68 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 My mother saw my uneasiness. ‘ Is it joy or grief 
 that moves you thus ?’ said she ; ‘You cannot sure 
 have so far forgotten the education I gave you as 
 to set your heart rashly upon any one ?’ — ‘ No, 
 dear mother,’ answered I ; ‘ only I did not expect 
 any such tidings.’ 
 
 ‘ You are very happy, after all that has passed, 
 to have fallen into this lady’s hands. She has left 
 nothing unsaid to your godmother in your praise ; 
 but her last letter has crowned the work. The 
 Viscountess Neville sent for me, and ordered me 
 hither in all haste, telling me that Lady Beckford 
 had provided a husband for you, who would heap 
 wealth and honour upon the family.’ Just as my 
 mother had done speaking, a footman came to let 
 her know that his lady must speak with her. She 
 went immediately. 
 
 My sister now told me how the family did at the 
 castle. ‘ The viscountess,’ said she, ‘ is much the 
 same ; she comes soon to London with her daugh- 
 ter, who has been courted for some time by Mr. 
 O’Connor. The captain has been rarely seen since 
 that alfair. It has made much noise, and is va- 
 riously related. Oh, how pleased was I to hear 
 you were so well placed ! You acted in the dis- 
 creetest manner possible not to return with Robert. 
 To this hour, scarce four words are spoken in which 
 your name is not mentioned.’ 
 
 ‘ Dear sister,’ said I, ‘ tell me on what grounds I 
 am censured, and then I will satisfy you how far 
 they are just.’ — ‘ You cannot be ignorant,’ replied 
 she, ‘ what one must expect in such little places. 
 Every trifle is magnified into an affair of conse- 
 quence. The report is that the earl, Miss Moore, 
 and you, laid a design for your being carried off. 
 They add that Captain Lambe, being in love with 
 you, guided by jealousy, discovered the plot. You 
 are blamed for being the cause of the duel your 
 two admirers fought, by giving them both encour- 
 agement at the same time. But these surmises, 
 through my mother’s discretion, soon lost ground* 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. ( )0 
 
 The inquisitive were put on a wrong scent. Robert 
 told folks how vainly he had tried to bring you 
 home, that your head was turned, by listening to 
 the nonsensical discourse of the fine gentlemen ; 
 that, nevertheless, he had compassed his design, if 
 the earl’s cursed valet had not interposed. He 
 was so enraged that he talked more against you 
 than any one, and said he did not doubt but the 
 earl had you in some house in the neighbourhood. 
 
 * The same day that Robert came home, the cap- 
 tain arrived. When he was informed of what had 
 passed, he called upon Robert. We saw him go 
 away foaming like a madman, swearing he would 
 take up Robert’s quarrel, and teach Villars to abuse 
 his tenants. The earl sent constantly twice a week 
 to know if you had been found. As soon as he was 
 able to go abroad, the captain disappeared, which 
 caused much talk. For some time it has not been 
 known what has become of him. Yet you are still 
 beloved by every one except the Honourable Miss 
 Lambe. As soon as she heard where you were, she 
 told several that you are a sly baggage, and are not 
 at London for nothing as she has good reason to 
 suspect.’ 
 
 1 Good God !’ cried I, i what have I done to de- 
 serve her hatred in this manner ?’ — ‘ We know well 
 enough,’ continued my sister : ‘ She is secretly in 
 love with the earl herself ; and he is quite indiffer- 
 ent on his side, having no great opinion of her 
 beauty. She has discovered that it is owing to 
 you ’ ‘ To me ! she is much in the wrong,’ re- 
 
 plied I, overjoyed to put my sister on the subject ; 
 1 1 never could perceive there was any ground to 
 think the Earl of Remington so fond of me as peo- 
 ple imagine. From the time I left the castle, I 
 have not so much as heard him mentioned.’— Had 
 he been so indifferent,’ replied my sister, ‘ he would 
 not have sent so often to inquire after you. But 
 he lost his labour, for the viscountess expressly 
 charged us not to give him any account of you. 
 Whether he was acquainted with this order, I cau- 
 
70 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 not say ; but we have heard nothing of him lately.’ 
 
 This account revived my tender sentiments for 
 the earl. A deep sigh forced its way. ‘ Ah ! Rosi- 
 na, I see you are in love with the earl,’ said my sis- 
 ter : ‘ I cannot blame you ; his merit deserves no 
 less. But have a care how you indulge your 
 passion ; the settlement now proposed will he in 
 danger of miscarrying. You cannot but see the 
 inequality between the earl and yourself. On the 
 other hand, you are about being married advan- 
 tageously, unless your indiscretion in favour of 
 your young admirer overturns the whole affair.’ — 
 * I thank you,’ replied I, ‘ for this good advice ; I 
 shall endeavour to put it in practice, and make a 
 sacrifice of myself.’ This was followed by a tor- 
 rent of tears. ‘ Here,’ said she ; I cannot bear to 
 see you in trouble. I deferred telling you I had a 
 letter to give you. Miss Moore put it into my hand 
 the night before we came from home ; she is still 
 fond of you, and, if I am not much mistaken, has 
 sent very acceptable tidings. Villars often sees 
 her, as I have discovered, though it is very pri- 
 vately. 
 
 I opened the letter with great precipitation. The 
 address was in a woman’s hand ; but, oh ! the 
 agreeable surprise, when I discovered the earl’s 
 writing. 
 
 * Where are you, my charming Rosina ? Will this mark 
 of my tender love and fidelity ever come to your hands ? 
 Oh ! what anguish do I suffer from the cruel uncertainty 
 of your situation ? Death itself cannot be compared with 
 it. What has befallen you? Where are you? I would 
 have gone to the farthest corner of the earth, on the least 
 prospect of finding you ; but something tells me I am 
 not far from you. still I live in hopes of a favourable 
 hour ; it must not be long in coming ; my patience is at 
 an end. I conjure you by all that is dear, if this comes 
 safe, to let me hear from you. Nothing else can possibly 
 save a life long since devoted to you alone. 
 
 ‘ Lemington.’ 
 
 I had only just time to read the letter when 
 my sister, who stood upon the watch, came 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 71 
 
 running to tell me she heard somebody on the 
 stairs. I was sent for by Lady Beckford, and went 
 with a heavy heart. 
 
 ‘ I am overjoyed, Rosina,’ said the lady, 4 that I 
 have it in my power to make you amends for what, 
 through your virtue, you declined. The proof you 
 then gave me of your discretion is not forgotten ; 
 and, from that time, Sir William and I were deter- 
 mined on making your fortune. Knowing the shy- 
 ness and inexperience of youth, we have ventured 
 to save you from all the embarrassments and diffi- 
 culties of arranging the match ; and we sent for 
 your parents to rejoice with you on the occasion. 
 Mr. Fleming having declared his passion for you, 
 which he says was received with proper respect and 
 modesty, we lost no time in the matter. Whatever 
 his appearance may be, he has a good heart ; and I 
 can assure you, he is only just turned of fifty years 
 of age. His riches are very great, and he has 
 agreed to give you a jointure of forty-five thousand 
 pounds, which is more than I myself have, and to 
 spend something handsome on your parents. 
 
 4 You make me no answer, Rosina. That blush 
 is a mark of your modesty.’ — 4 Very true,’ said my 
 mother ; 4 but that ought not to hinder her from 
 throwing herself at your feet, madam, and thank- 
 ing you for all your favours.’ I did so immediately, 
 kissing her hand. 4 Rise, my dear,’ said she ; 4 1 
 look upon you as my own, and will be at the ex- 
 pense of the wedding, at our country seat. My 
 husband is there already ; his present consists m 
 some things you have seen before. Georgian a (her 
 daughter), to whom you are very dear, insists upon 
 your accepting of her pearl necklace.’ 
 
 The day following, my father came. Such an 
 alteration in his daughter was a great surprise to 
 him ; my sister told me he cried for joy. The 
 Tuesday following, or in three days, was appointed 
 for the wedding. It was not possible for me to 
 prevent it. It was a marriage that gratified the 
 ambition and completed the happiness of our fa- 
 
72 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 mily. I heard nothing else talked of. It was only 
 at night that I could vent my sighs and bewail my 
 condition. 
 
 The fatal hour approached. On the day before, 
 Mr. Fleming sent me jewels to the value of two 
 thousand pounds. Then we repaired to Sir Wil- 
 liam’s seat near Uxbridge, where our nuptials were 
 to be celebrated. Next day, I was decked out in 
 all my finery, like a victim about to be led to the 
 sacrifice. All was gaiety around me, while my 
 heart was ready to burst. My dejected appearance 
 was attributed to the fear usual with young women 
 on the approach of marriage. Alas I my thoughts 
 were far otherwise employed. 
 
 Two days before this, love prompted me to ac- 
 quaint the earl. I knew how to direct to him ; the 
 thing was feasible. 4 If he really loves me,’ thought 
 I, 4 and has honourable designs, it would not be 
 difficult for him to break off this fatal match. On 
 the other hand, decency disclaimed such conduct as 
 too forward to become a young woman well edu- 
 cated ; it was running after a husband. No sooner 
 did I resolve one way, than immediately I found 
 myself inclined to the other. 
 
 This state of tormenting uncertainty continued 
 unabated. I could neither eat nor sleep. I regret- 
 ted that Lady Beckford and her husband had been 
 so kind. I wished to be free, and to snap the fet- 
 ters I then wore ; but all their actions had been 
 dictated by kindness. I wished for death. At 
 length I was led to the altar ; there a kind of mist 
 covered my eyes — I felt as if I would expire gently 
 — Fleming had pronounced the fatal words 4 1 will,' 
 when a voice from the church-door startled us with 
 the cry, 4 Hold ! hold /’ The curate was at a stand, 
 when a tall, raw-boned, sandy-haired woman made 
 her way through the crowd, and making a curtsey 
 to the curate, in a broad Scottish accent desired to 
 speak with him. He took her into the vestry, with 
 Mr. Fleming and Lady Beckford. 
 
 The eyes of the crowd were fixed upon me. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 73 
 
 Some said it was a pity such an ugly old miser 
 should get such a fine lass. A country esquire, 
 who stood behind me, exclaimed, ‘ The girl, al- 
 though she has not a farthing, shall not go out of 
 the church unmarried, if she will but allow me to 
 get a license.’ Sir William gave the young spark 
 a forbidding look. 
 
 At length, we were called into the vestry, and the 
 door was shut. ‘ Your wedding is put off for the 
 present, my dear Rosina,’ said Lady Beckford, ‘ till 
 Mr. Fleming removes a difficulty which has just 
 occurred.’ 
 
 ‘ I am extremely afflicted, miss, at what has hap- 
 pened,’ said Mr. Fleming, who looked shockingly 
 ill. — ‘Youth has its follies,’ he continued; ‘in a 
 frolic I acknowledged this woman as my wife, which 
 by the laws of Scotland, is a kind of marriage. But 
 it was all nonsense ; and Jenny will hear reason.’— 
 ‘Nonsense!’ she screamed out: ‘Oh ! you false, de- 
 ceitful man ! What do you think will become o’ your 
 poor soul F An ye ca’ sin a frolic — a bonny frolic, 
 troth ! But it hes gar’d me mourn in 'sackcloth an’ 
 ashes — it hes made me the song o' drunkards — it 
 hes humbl’d me to the dust. Now I’ll hae justice ; 
 you shall marry me, and naebody else— you shall 
 heal your broken vows to thy handmaid, or, I tak 
 
 God to witness, I’ll •’ ‘ Whisht, Jenny,’ said 
 
 Mr. Fleming, in a soothing tone ; ‘ this is not a 
 place for such talk. Come, step into my coach.’ 
 Saying which he bowed to us, and walked off with 
 his old acquaintance. 
 
 We returned home in silence. My father and 
 mother were mortified, while my concern was to 
 hide my joy, I felt my bosom swell with confi- 
 dence in, and gratitude to heaven, on recalling to 
 mind the many instances in which I had been saved 
 from impending evils. Mr. Fleming returned the 
 next morning very gay. He had moved the ob- 
 stacle. He had been obliged to come down smart- 
 ly. My father and mother were elated, and my 
 fears returned with double force. The day was 
 
74 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 once more fixed for the wedding, and my fate seem- 
 ed to be sealed. 
 
 The evening before we were to be married, the 
 company strolled into the park. Mr. Fleming was 
 continually at ny side. I thought I would disco- 
 ver my real sentiments to Fleming, throw myself 
 upon his generosity, and submit to the imputation of 
 folly and ingratitude from Sir William and his 
 lady. To give myself up to the embraces of a man 
 whom I could not love, whatever the inducements 
 might be, appeared to me like prostitution. I con- 
 demned myself for the want of spirit to maintain 
 the dignity of virtue. Coming to a high terrace, 
 which commanded a view of the turnpike road, I 
 saw a party of horsemen pass, with a pack of 
 hounds. When they had passed, I turned, and saw 
 a gentleman with a scarlet hunting-coat coming 
 gently along a by-way in the park. He appeared 
 to be in profound contemplation. My heart began 
 to beat, for, on viewing his features, methought J 
 knew him. It was the Earl of Lemington. Hi? 
 image was too deeply engraven on my heart to mis- 
 take. As he approached the terrace, he looked up 
 and took off his hunting-cap. This gave me a full 
 view of his fine expressive eyes and ample forehead. 
 The impression was so powerful that I shrieked 
 out : while the earl exclaimed, ‘ G-ood G-od ! ’tis 
 she !’ and, clapping spurs to his horse, was out of 
 sight in a moment. 
 
 Every one ran to my assistance, while my eyes 
 followed the dear object of my emotion. Mr. 
 Fleming and my father led me home, and laid me 
 upon a couch ; but as my agitation arose entirely 
 from surprise, mixed with joy, it produced no ill 
 consequences. Lady Beckford inquired who the 
 gentleman was that had saluted Bosnia. My fa- 
 ther’s common sense caused him to hold his tongue 
 on the subject ; but my mother said, ‘ Yes, indeed, 
 we know him well enough ; it is the Earl of Lem- 
 ington, who spoke of the bride to the king, as has 
 often been told. — ‘Oh!’ replied Lady Beckford, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 75 
 
 ‘ I thought the maid did not change colour for 
 nothing.’ — 4 Colour or no colour,’ said my father, 
 ‘ the marriage shall go on. I’ll be bound, madam, 
 for the performance. We are not to be fooled by 
 girlish whims. The earl is not a fit husband for 
 my daughter.’ — 4 Well,’ replied her ladyship, 4 there 
 may be some truth in what you say. It is, how- 
 ever well that Mr. Fleming is ignorant of this part 
 of the business. All this I heard distinctly. Then 
 a servant came and announced to Lady Beckford 
 that a gentleman of highly respectable appearance, 
 desired to speak to her. I guessed who the stran- 
 ger was, and my heart fluttered exceedingly. Mr. 
 Fleming, who had j ust entered, on the delivery of 
 the message observed, 4 the gentleman is welcome, 
 and must honour us with his company at supper.’ 
 
 Then I was sent for. I arose and went with 
 trembling steps. 4 Come hither, my dear child,’ 
 said Lady Beckford ; 4 you have influence over this 
 nobleman to assert your own independence. He 
 vehemently opposes your marriage, und talks ex- 
 travagantly, that I cannot understand him.’ The 
 earl exclaimed most passionately, 4 Ah ! my Rosina, 
 have I merited this, to be made the most miserable 
 of mankind ?’ 
 
 Tears flowed from my eyes. 6 What do you re- 
 quire ?’ said I ; 4 You know I am not my own mis- 
 tress. O then, leave me. You cannot be benefi- 
 ted by my distress.’ — 4 Must I go P’ replied he. 4 Ah ! 
 is this the reception you afford, after a long ab- 
 sence, to one that adores you ? Does money appear 
 the only valuable thing in your eyes ? However,’ 
 he added, 4 1 perhaps deserve all this. An ungo- 
 vernable passion has induced me to supplicate the 
 compassion of one who seems to despise me. All my 
 letters to you have been answered in terms of con- 
 tempt ; and, after the insulting letter I received from 
 you yesterday, I had no right to expect a different 
 reception.’ — 4 Hold, sir,’ I cried : 4 1 do not deserve 
 your reproaches. Since I left the Viscountess Ne- 
 ville, I have never had any communication with you 
 
76 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 either directly or indirectly. Your accusation is 
 therefore unfounded.’ — ‘ Heavens !’ he replied, ‘am 
 I also to be treated as an impostor ? and by Ro- 
 sina P Saying this, he pulled out a letter, and said, 
 ‘ Pray look at that, madam when what should I 
 discover but a letter with my signature, in the 
 handwriting of the Honourable Miss Lamb. This 
 I showed to Lady Beckford, who also knew the 
 hand, and assured the earl that it was not my pro- 
 duction. ‘Ah! madam,’ said he, ‘you restore me 
 to life. Charming Rosina, you will not only for- 
 give me, but complete my happiness, by rejecting 
 a man who cannot feel — who cannot love — like 
 your first and sincerest admirer.’ — ‘ As if that,’ said 
 I, ‘ depended on me ? Am I to withstand a father 
 and mother P Ought I to frustrate the good inten- 
 tions of my best benefactress ? Heaven knows how 
 little either affection or interest influences me in 
 going to the altar ; but my doom is fixed.’ 
 
 ‘ Then you are determined to sacrifice your own 
 happiness and my life,’ said the earl. ‘ Your life !’ 
 I exclaimed, in a fright, ‘ G-od forbid ! it is too dear 
 to me.’ No sooner had I uttered these self-betray- 
 ing words, than I was covered with blushes. ‘ It 
 is enough !' cried his lordship, in a transport of joy : 
 ‘ my charming Rosina is and must be mine. You 
 see, madam,’ addressing Lady Beckford, ‘ that Ro- 
 sina’ s heart acknowledges me. Why then, dear 
 madam, would you insist on dragging this lovely 
 innocent to the altar ?’ 
 
 ‘ You perplex me, my lord,’ answered her lady- 
 ship. ‘ What can I do ? Mr. Fleming is your in- 
 ferior in point of birth ; but he is rich and respect- 
 able, and our friend. How could we interfere 
 between him and his happiness ? Rosina is truly 
 dear to me : I know her worth, but others cannot 
 know it. I believe in your honour, and I will delay 
 the wedding for one week, during which time 
 means may be devised for securing Rosina’ s hap- 
 piness. I did not suspect that you had made such 
 a progress in her affections.’ 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 77 
 
 The earl then said, ‘ Can you abandon me to des- 
 pair ?’ — ‘ Good heaven !’ replied I, ‘ what can I do ? 
 What answer would you have me make to the rea- 
 son you just now heard alleged ?’ — ‘ That you slight 
 them all for my sake,’ said he, ‘ and de’clare against 
 this detested match. I am ready to marry you. I 
 call heaven to witness, I will marry none but you ! 
 This has always been my design. I have an uncle, 
 it is true, that has much in his power ; but if you 
 will consent to make me so happy, we may be mar- 
 ried without his knowledge. He is advanced in 
 years, and I am unwilling to excite his wrath. If 
 you love me — ‘ I do love you,’ said I. ‘ But, 
 my lord, I will not consent to a private marriage. 
 I love you. Do you ask a proof ? I will disobey 
 my parents if it be necessary. Yes,’ continued I, 
 ‘ I will set every one against me ; but that is all 
 you must expect.’ — ‘What!’ cried the earl, with 
 great emotion, ‘ will you refuse me ? Do you sus- 
 pect my protestation ? — ‘ No, no,’ replied I, ‘I have 
 entire confidence in you. and am fully convinced of 
 the honourable sentiments you are pleased to en- 
 tertain respecting me ; but, by conquering my 
 weaknesses my passion inspires me with, I will, in 
 some measure, deserve them. My honour is all I 
 possess; do not seek its ruin, nor tarnish it by such 
 proposals.’ I had no sooner said this, than I ran 
 away as fast as possible. Lady Beckford, who had 
 remained in the passage, had overheard us. She 
 stopped me, and said, ‘ Come into this room ; I 
 have something of the greatest importance to im- 
 part to you.’ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I " ADY BECKFORD addressed me thus : — ‘ I 
 J shall never forget, dear Rosina, the new proof 
 I have just had of your sense and discretion. Oh ! 
 it is delightful to behold virtue triumphing over 
 the allurements of love. Persevere, then, in your 
 noble resolution, and never swerve from the straight 
 path. You have conquered many dangers, and I 
 
78 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 fear that your warfare is not ended. I have heard 
 strange news to-day. My footman has discovered 
 a party lurking about our grounds ; and, from his 
 description, I think the leader must be Captain 
 Lambe. I know not what his intentions are. 
 Surely he will not attempt to insult Sir William. 
 Yet he is a desperate man, and I cannot conquer 
 my fears.’ 
 
 ‘Ah, madam!’ said I, ‘your worst conjectures 
 are well grounded. That wretch will stop at 
 nothing to gratify his brutal appetites. His designs 
 must be very daring ; for last night the house-dog 
 never ceased barking, and I durst not sleep for 
 terror, as some persons were whispering near my 
 chamber- window.’ Lady Beckford said, ‘ Surely 
 the captain could not design to carry you off by 
 force, while under my roof.’ — ‘ I care not,’ replied 
 I, ‘ what his purposes are. I feel too well armed 
 with indignation and courage to fear him. I may 
 die in his hand, but never shall he conquer me. It 
 is for the earl I tremble. Heavens! what might be 
 the consequences were these two rivals to meet 
 again !’ 
 
 ‘Well,’ replied Lady Beckford, ‘I must try to 
 save your lover, and you also for his sake. But 
 flight only can ensure success. Were Sir William 
 to learn that the captain was skulking about his 
 house with an improper design, I know his spirit 
 would lead him to resent the affront ; and this 
 might render the affair tragical indeed. Besides, 
 if you continue here, perhaps Mr. Fleming would 
 not agree to have his wedding again postponed. 
 He is very fond of you, and his habits of punctu- 
 ality might render him determined to fulfil his con- 
 tract. Your parents too might upbraid you for 
 your fickleness. So safety, I repeat, can be obtain- 
 ed only by flight.’ 
 
 ‘ My dear madam,’ I sobbed out, ‘ you are my 
 refuge, my protector, my more than parent. O 
 point out whither I shall flee — dispose of me as you 
 will — I am ready to execute your pleasure.’ — ‘ I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 79 
 
 know it,’ said Lady Beckford, taking me in her 
 arms ; and believe me, that in parting with you I 
 make a great sacrifice. But I hope only for a time. 
 I purpose to consign you to the care of an old 
 friend. I lost a good mother early in life. She 
 was the daughter of an Irish Catholic nobleman, 
 mid, previous to her death, advised my father to 
 /send me to a monastry at Amiens in France, where 
 she herself had lived for some time, to finish my 
 education. Though he was a Protestant, yet re- 
 spect for my mother induced him to comply. There 
 I lived happily, acquired many accomplishments, 
 learned the French and Italian languages, and be- 
 came familiar with good order and sober reflection. 
 The abbess I know well, and she will treat you 
 kindly for my sake. Your stay there shall be short, 
 and you shall be as free as the rules of the house 
 will admit. I will soon visit Paris, and will call 
 for you.’ 
 
 On hearing this kind proposal, I fell upon her 
 neck and wept. The good lady raised me gently, 
 and said, ‘ Come, B-osina, collect yourself* Sum- 
 mon up the courage you were boasting of a minute 
 ago, and act your part as becomes you. To-night, 
 at twelve o’clock, you depart. Adieu, my dear 
 girl.’ Saying this, she kissed me affectionately, 
 and disappeared in a moment.’ 
 
 I dropped down on the sofa behind me, and tried 
 to collect my thoughts so as to obtain a clear view 
 of my state. But my reflections were soon inter- 
 rupted ; for when I looked up, the earl stood before 
 me. Apprehensions for this dear man’s life again 
 rushed into my mind, and determined me to act 
 with decision. Looking at him with a dissembled 
 anger, I said, ‘ Now, my lord, if you really love me 
 ’ ‘ If I love you !’ exclaimed he ; ‘ Ungrate- 
 ful creature ! is this the first time ? Surely you 
 
 ought to be convinced. — What I have suffered ’ 
 
 ‘ I ask it as a favour,’ continued I, ‘ that you would 
 hear me patiently, and, since I may depend on 
 your affection for a punctual compliance with what 
 
8Cf rosina; or, 
 
 I propose, I shall look upon such a deference as a 
 convincing proof of what you have so often vowed. 
 Call reason to your aid ; without it love is but 
 folly. I should be unworthy of the regard you ex- 
 press for me, and what you seem to propose, did I 
 blindly follow the dictates of your passion. I know 
 you love me, the greatness of which honour I am 
 fully sensible of. She is no longer Rosina, the sim- 
 ple country lass, who speaks to you, but a person 
 actuated by principles of honour and virtue : and 
 she reserves herself for you by such methods as 
 you will one day approve of, and, through a disin- 
 terestedness not very common, sacrifices to you 
 a present establishment for an uncertain one to 
 come. I am engaged to Mr. Fleming, and to-mor- 
 row I must receive him for a husband. Retreat is 
 the only means left me to prove how entirely I am 
 yours. Can you be so unreasonable as to oppose a 
 project entirely formed to oblige you alone P I 
 solemnly declare,’ continued I, ‘ if you will not 
 agree to such a method as I see necessary to adopt, 
 and retire from hence this moment, I am resolved 
 to marry Mr. Fleming, and never see your face 
 more.’ 
 
 Saying this, I turned my head aside, lest his 
 lordship should discover my emotion ; but he, seiz- 
 ing my hand, bathed it with his tears. I felt my 
 resolutions waver, and my heart melting into ten- 
 derness. Therefore, snatching away my hand, I 
 darted out of the room, and shut myself into my 
 own chamber. I began to collect my little neces- 
 saries, and to arrange my trunk. I continued to 
 pack up until I heard the clock strike eleven, whea, 
 locking my trunk, I sat down, and listened to every 
 footstep. Soon I heard a tap at my door, when a 
 respectable old gentleman, book-keeper to Sir Wil- 
 liam, entered. He smiled, took up my trunk, and 
 departed without speaking. In a few minutes he 
 returned in his travelling cap, with a man’s hat in 
 his hand, which he put upon my head, and, taking 
 off his great coat, threw it over me. Then whis- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 81 
 
 pering, ‘ Fear nothing,’ we descended to the back 
 of the hall, where a chaise was standing, into which 
 we entered and drove off. 
 
 My venerable companion informed me, that, by 
 Lady Beckford’e desire, he was to see me safe into 
 France ; that he had the necessary letters of intro- 
 duction; and that he was instructed to regulate 
 the journey according to my wishes and conve- 
 nience. 
 
 In a short time we reached London ! and, at the 
 inn, I was surprised to see Mrs. Morton, a widow 
 lady, who lived at our town’s house. She was dis- 
 tantly related to Lady Beckford, into whose family 
 she had been invited after the death of her hus- 
 band, a lieutenant in the navy, but died at the Ha- 
 vannah during the preceding war. I was rejoiced 
 to meet my friend, but much more so when she in- 
 formed me that she was to accompany me to my 
 destination. It appears that my good and sensible 
 benefactress had despatched her footman to Lon- 
 don, as soon as she had planned the mode of my 
 retreat, in order to prepare this lady for the jour- 
 ney, and to procure the necessary passports. 
 
 We proceeded to Dover, and found the packet 
 ready for sea. Our passage was tedious, and it 
 was next morning before we reached Calais. Here 
 Mrs. Morton and I took leave of Mr. Evans, who 
 declined landing, and went ashore. After obtain- 
 ing some refreshment, we procured a great rum- 
 bling machine, which they called a chaise, in which 
 we set off for the good city of Amiens. 
 
 When we entered within the gate of the monas- 
 try, and I looked upon the lofty walls overgrown 
 with ivy, the narrow grated windows, and the 
 death -like silence that reigned throughout, my 
 heart sunk within me. We were shewn into a lit- 
 tle dark parlour, when Mrs. Morton gave the at- 
 tendant Lady Beckford’s letter and a note from 
 herself. My new situation resembled an imprison- 
 ment. I then began to blame myself for submit- 
 ting so tamely to Lady Beckford’s directions. 
 
82 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 4 Why,’ said I to myself, 4 I am not such an imbe- 
 cile as to be incapable of directing my own actions. 
 Is it necessary, then, that I should be locked up ? 
 and in a foreign country too ? Why should I fly 
 
 so cowardly, and ’ But a sense of the crime 
 
 of ingratitude deranged my heroic reveries. My 
 conscience asked, 4 Has not Lady Beckford, in a 
 thousand instances, evinced the most disinterested 
 friendship for you ? Has she not incurred great 
 expense, trouble and vexation on your account P 
 Has she not hurried you ofl to save you both from 
 the ferocious captain and the ugly Fleming P Was 
 it not to preserve you for the Earl of Lemington, 
 and save his life for your sake ?’ 
 
 Then the abbess entered, and saluted Mrs. Mor- 
 ton, with whom I saw she was acquainted. She 
 observed that she should undertake the education 
 of Lady Beckford’ s protegee with pleasure, and 
 that she should feel happy to obtain her ladyship’s 
 approbation. Mrs. Morton turning to me, said, 
 4 Bosina, my dear, why do you not salute your 
 worthy superior ?’ I rose, advanced to the abbess, 
 and kissed her hand. She embraced me, bidding 
 me not to cry. 4 She never was among religious 
 people before,’ said she, 4 1 perceive ; she is fright- 
 ened, but use will make it easy.’ — 4 Pardon me, 
 madam,’ I cried, thinking she meant that I had no 
 religion, 4 1 love God with all my heart.’ — 4 1 do not 
 doubt it,’ answered the abbess, 4 1 believe you are 
 very virtuous.’ — 4 She is a very good girl,* observed 
 Mrs. Morton. — 4 The air of a convent,’ added the 
 abbess, 4 is not agreeable at first. There are many 
 things which require patience ; but more of that 
 hereafter. Saying this, she winked upon me. 
 
 Being fatigued, I desired rest. I was conducted 
 to a neat little chamber, and soon went to bed. The 
 greater part of the night I suffered cruelly. The 
 earl, present to my imagination, seemed still to 
 lament himself at my feet ; I comforted him in a 
 language, alas ! far different from what I mention- 
 ed before. I blamed myself for not giving him the 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 83 
 
 tenderest proofs of my affection. Methought the 
 earl, overpowered by the furious captain, with his 
 last breath protested his love. O heavens ! I was 
 seized by the conqueror ! This dream was so live- 
 ly, that I started out of my sleep with a loud shriek. 
 
 The sun already shone into my cell. A large 
 wooden crucifix, with a death’s head at its foot, 
 made me shudder. A devout reflection terrified 
 me ; methought a crucified Saviour, whose suffer- 
 ings I there saw represented, reproached me with 
 my weakness. Alas ! what could I address to him 
 but my tears? and they were very plentiful. I 
 threw myself at the foot of the crucifix, and called 
 upon God, and found my affliction abate. Jesus 
 spoke, teaching me that patience of which he show- 
 ed himself so perfect an example. 
 
 While thinking, the chamber-door opened. 1 Ave ,* 
 said an ancient nun coming in : * Dear miss, how 
 have you rested ? Mrs. Moreton is below in the 
 abbess’s parlour, who has sent for you. Put on 
 your clothes ; but be sure to say your prayers be- 
 fore you leave your chamber. Somebody will come 
 for you in a quarter of an hour.’ 
 
 I jumped out of bed very hastily, saying my 
 prayers and dressing myself all at once, to save 
 time ; when another nun, with a beautiful counte- 
 nance, came into my chamber, saying in English, 
 that she was come for me. ‘ Good God !’ said she, 
 ‘ you have been crying. I am concerned for you : 
 I am apt to think you do not relish a monastry. 
 Alas ! you are not the only one.’ I looked earnest- 
 ly at her, finding a comfort in what she said ; but 
 she seemed vexed with herself for having spoken 
 her mind so freely. 
 
 On entering the abbess’s parlour, I saluted her 
 with great respect. I found her engaged in a con- 
 fidential conversation with Mrs. Morton, and which 
 related to all the little animosities on foot in the 
 convent. She gave her a long detail of the various 
 humours and different interests among them. 
 
 This conversation was fortunately interrupted 
 
84 
 
 HOSIN' A ; OR, 
 
 by a nun coming in with her veil over her face. At 
 her entrance she bowed to the ground, and then 
 kissed the abbess’s hands, who very devoutly em- 
 braced her head, telling her to put up her veil, for 
 there were no men present. ‘ What would you 
 have with me, dear daughter ?’ continued the ab- 
 bess. The nun began to whisper in her ear ; but 
 she certainly thought we were deaf, for she spoke 
 so loud that I heard every word. ‘ Mighty well,’ 
 replied the abbess, 4 1 am coming ; stay for me on 
 the stairs. Would you believe, said she, address- 
 ing Mrs. Morton, 4 what they are doing ? There is 
 another cabal on foot. I am told three of the an- 
 cients and the good father director are now plotting 
 against me in the Trinity Parlour : there is a pri- 
 vate place from whence I can overhear them, un- 
 less my continual coughing should spoil all. But 
 heaven will support me. Adieu. 
 
 When she retired, Mrs. Morton said who was 
 vexed at the weakness which the lady abbess had 
 betrayed. 4 My good girl, she said, observing my 
 glance, 4 perfection is not to be obtained in this 
 world. The best saints are the most exposed to the 
 buffetings of Satan. However, you will, I am sure, 
 find many agreeable and highly amiable ladies in 
 this house, the character of which justly stands 
 high in France. Keep up pour spirits — the storm 
 will soon pass over ; and our dear Lady Beckford, 
 will restore you to the world.’ We were then sum- 
 moned to breakfast. 
 
 After we rose up from the table, Mrs. Morton 
 retired to take leave of the lady abbess. On her 
 return, she tried to comfort me. 4 Think yourself 
 happy,’ she observed, 4 that you are in a safe place. 
 That captain is a sad man, and will never die in his 
 bed. I wish the poor earl may escape his fangs, 
 and that my dream last night may prove false. I 
 became rather superstitious, for the mention of a 
 night vision similar to my own appeared like the 
 indications of Providence. This completely over- 
 came me, and I fainted away. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 85 
 
 On recovering, I found myself in the arms of 
 the beautiful nun that had conducted me down 
 stairs in the merning. ‘ Take courage, my child,' 
 said St. Agnes, ‘ I sincerely pity you. Endeavour 
 to bear up, and let us get to a convenient place. 
 Pluck up a good heart ; I will set you an example. 
 In me you shall find a true friend/ She then con- 
 ducted me to my chamber, where she obliged me to 
 go to bed. I lay a long time without uttering a 
 word, or making any other answer than squeezing 
 her most tenderly by the hand. ‘ Well,’ said she, 
 
 * my good girl, how do you find yourself ?’ — 4 Alas?' 
 replied I, shedding tears, ‘ the unhappiest of crea- 
 tures ! Fatal destiny attends my actions : the most 
 cruel events succeed one after another. Certainly, 
 never wretch was so overwhelmed with so many 
 misfortunes/ 
 
 4 1 sympathize with you,’ replied St. Agnes, fold- 
 ing me in her arms. 4 Behold, my dear child, be- 
 hold in me the most unfortunate of persons. Were 
 even your afflictions greater than they are, they 
 could not be compared to mine. You, at least, are 
 at liberty ; but I am doubly engaged. Under this 
 veil I carry a wounded heart, pierced with a thou- 
 sand darts. Deplorable victim of caprice, I drag 
 on a life of great wretchedness. I have not yet had 
 the comfort of a friend to whom I might unbosom 
 my secrets and troubles. You are the only one to 
 whom I have said so much, and for whom I have 
 so tender a concern. Let us blend our misfortunes : 
 make me your confidant; you are mine already. 
 We shall reap equal benefit from our mutual afflic- 
 tions. Shall it be so, my dear Rosina ?’— 4 Ah !’ re- 
 plied I, with great ardency, ‘ What comfort it is 
 for me, in my present condition, to find so much 
 compassion in a place that is so disagreeable !’ — 
 1 How kindly I take your sentiments,’ said St. Ag- 
 nes ; 4 your aversion to the cloistor is conformable 
 to mine. You deserve, on that title alone, to be let 
 into the secret of my affairs.’ 
 
$6 rosina; or, 
 
 THE NARRATIVE OP ST. AGNES. 
 
 My mai ilen -name is Elizabeth Mackintosh. My father, 
 Who had been an officer in the Austrian service, returned 
 to Scotland on the death of his eldest brother, to whose 
 estates he succeeded. He shortly after married a lady, 
 who possessed a good fortune, and was very handsome ; 
 but within two years after his marriage, Prince Charles, 
 the Pretender, landed in Scotland, when he raised his 
 tenantry, and marched to join the ranks of the rebels. 
 When the hopes of the House of Stuart were blasted upon 
 the field of Culloden, my father effected his escape to the 
 continent, whither my mother followed him. But pre- 
 vious to her departure, while living in concealment, I 
 was born, and consigned to the care of a poor farmer and 
 his wife, who had formerly served in her father’s family ; 
 and here I was brought up, under the notion of being the 
 orphan child of a poor relation of the farmer, who had 
 died at Perth, about seven or eight miles distant. 
 
 ‘ The first years of my life were spent in mean employ- 
 ments. I very early discovered a taste for reading, and 
 my supposed mother forwarded my improvement. This 
 partiality excited the jealousy of her two daughters. At 
 length I was so annoyed with their hatred, that I was 
 out of mere pity, sent to the moor to tend a small flock 
 of sheep. The time which this occupation afforded me 
 for reading the books that I borrowed from our neigh- 
 bours, rendered it very supportable, and I rejoiced at the 
 alteration. 
 
 ‘The landlord of the estate of which our farm formed a 
 part was the Lord Advocate of Scotland. He visited his 
 estate every year during the vacation, always accom- 
 panied by his son, who was pursuing his studies at the 
 college in Edinburgh. This young gentleman was very 
 handsome, well-shaped, and rather grave. He spent part 
 of his leisure in reading. He loved to walk in the fields 
 near the village in the cool of the evening. I met him 
 almost every day, with a book in his hand. As often as 
 he passed by me he bowed. At that time 1 was near six- 
 teen, lively, and liked young Forbes extremely. 
 
 ‘ One day, when I had driven my sheep near a dell a 
 little way from Methven, I espied young Forbes asleep on 
 the grass, under a beech tree. My heart had long wished 
 to gaze on him without bringing my modesty in question. 
 
 ‘ This favourable opportunity encouraged me I was 
 all alone — he fast asleep. I advanced towards him step 
 by step. With a stick I moved the leaves, to try if his 
 Bleep was sound : it was needless, for lie appeared in a 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 
 
 87 
 
 most profound repose. I drew near him, though with 
 fear. Forbes is of a brown complexion, charming eyes, 
 Bweet countenance, very fine hair, curled. In the atti- 
 tude in which he lay, his face was entirely seen, on which 
 there sat so much serenity and comeliness, that one 
 could not behold it without delight. My tender heart 
 was taken captive by this rash scrutiny. 
 
 ‘A book lay on the ground near. I was curious to 
 know what subject he was studying, and advanced to ex- 
 amine it. Though I could not read Latin, yet I gathered 
 from the title that the book was Virgil. I had heard 
 eulogiums on this ancient genius, and my respect for 
 Master Forbes was increased when I found that he culti- 
 vated acquaintance with such noble worthies. Ijjesolved 
 to retire ; but the fine features I gazed upon were as a 
 loadstone from which I could not separate. At length 
 he began to stir, as if he was going to awake, when a 
 wasp settled on his face. I stooped to drive it off; but, 
 in my eagerness, I gave him a slap on the face. On a 
 sudden he bounce l up, when I tried to run away ; but he 
 snatched hold of my gown, and said, with a smile, ‘ Tell 
 me, my pretty maid, what it is you want.’— ‘Alas ! sir,’ 
 replied I, in confusion, ‘I ask your pardon. I did not 
 intend to hurt you— but, seeking for a stray sheep, I hap- 
 pened to pass by, when I saw a wasp just going to sting 
 you : I ran up to prevent it and the hurry I was in made 
 me disturb you.’ The youth examined me with great at- 
 tention ; and I perceived, with secret joy, that he was 
 enamoured with my figure. I had had several admirers, 
 though yet a girl ; but they always disgusted me with 
 their rude behaviour. Now I beheld a youth whose eyes 
 beamed with intelligence, and whose attitude indicated 
 a noble and firm spirit. He threw his arms about my 
 neck, to thank me, as he said, for the service I had done 
 him. 
 
 ‘ Covered with blushes, I avoided such kindness. ‘Dear 
 creature,’ he cried, ‘ be not angry : can you be displeased 
 with the sallies of my gratitude? 0 stay ; I will be more 
 reserved, if you think me to blame for yielding to the 
 transports your charms have raised in my breast. You 
 are the first that has been able to inspire them.’ — Taking 
 me by the hand, ‘My dear girl,’ said he, ‘you are hand- 
 some, and the only one to whom I ever said so much 
 before.’ 
 
 ‘I pretended not to understand this discourse ; but 
 young as I was, I easily comprehended that it savoured 
 too much of flattery; and I retired. ‘Ah' do not run 
 away,’ cried Forbes, enueavouring to stop me ; * the sun is 
 
88 ROSIN A; OR, 
 
 not yet set ; why then will you deprive me of the pleasure 
 of your company ? Cruel creature !’ continued he, seeing 
 me determined, * better for me to have been stung by 
 the wasp !’ 
 
 ‘ Whilst he was thus talking, I came up to my flock. 
 Forbes followed me ; but when I saw him coming one 
 way, I went another, under pretence of keeping my 
 flock together. He soon discovered my roguery, and 
 stood still with his arms across, looking on me with an 
 expressive air. I seemed not to mind him, and went on 
 to the village, but could not avoid often looking back. 
 Thus I brought home an impression that stfl-l lives in my 
 mind. 
 
 * Young Forbes had a tender, honest heart ; and I soon 
 owned to him the progress he had made in my affections. 
 He was overjoyed at it ; and, in spite of my humble birth 
 he vowed to be mine for ever. Oh, what flattering joys I 
 what happy days ? But the vacation was expired, and he 
 must go away. Bathed in tears, we bid each other fare- 
 well, without any other comfort, on my part, but the 
 hopes of seeing him again. I was inconsolable for three 
 months. 
 
 ‘Returning home one evening, my supposed cousin 
 met me. * Ah l Bessey,’ she exclaimed, ‘ what will you 
 gie me for my good news? You need not he surprised if 
 somebody has come you’ll be glad to see.’ At this S 
 blushed, thinking it was young Forbes she meant, and 
 confounded to find that our amour was discovered. ‘ Sure 
 you hae very little curiosity/ observed she ; * but of late 
 you have seemed indifferent to every thing. Weel, to 
 punish you, I have a great mind to tell you that a fine 
 lady, wi’ a bonny coach, is come to our house, and she 
 has been shut up a great while wi’ my mither. I listen- 
 ed and heard a’. But I’ll no tell ye that the fine lady is 
 Bessey’s ain mother. Na, na, our Bess is proud enough 
 already, so I’ll no tell her that.’ I was struck with this 
 discovery, but only said, *-Well, cousin, I’m sorry you 
 have come out of your way to play off such poor wit upon 
 me.’ — ‘ Wit !' raid she, ‘ aye, there’s good solid wit in this 
 story, for I heard more money counted on our table than 
 has e’er been on it since Andrew the joiner made it/ 
 
 ‘ Just at this moment I passed the turn into the vil- 
 lage, when, sure enough, I saw a fine coach standing at 
 our door, surrounded by women and children. My other 
 cousin ran to me, saying that I must make haste home. 
 I obeyed, and, on entering the house, encountered the 
 keen, scrutinizing glances of an elegant middle-aged lady. 
 My supposed aunt immediately took o ti my handkerchief, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 89 
 
 and showed the lady a mark I have on my neck. The 
 lady smiled, and said, ‘ Oh ! it is very evident ; but her 
 face alone is sufficient.' Then she said, ‘ My dear child, 
 will you come and live with me? Your aunt is an old 
 servant of mine, whom I still respect. She has given her 
 consent. I will take care of you, and it will ease your 
 poor relations.’— ‘ Your ladyship,’ replied the farmer’s 
 wife, ‘ is too good. Bessey will be proud to gang wi’ ye ; 
 an’ she’s a good-natured lassie.’ I was ordered to put on 
 my best Sunday-gown in all haste, with my new stock- 
 ings and shoes, 
 
 ‘ I was dejected while dressing, and at last burst into 
 tears. * Alas 1’ thought I, ‘never shall I again see my 
 dear shepherd (for so I called Forbes at our endearing in- 
 terviews); he will forget me, and I shall be for ever 
 miserable.' I embraced, with the utmost tenderness, 
 the two worthy friends I was going to leave, who parted 
 from me with tears. Even my old enemies, their daugh- 
 ters. were moved. 
 
 ‘ When we had entered the coach, and began to roll 
 along, my delight, in finding myself seated in such a fine, 
 easy vehicle, was lost in the hopes and fears that agitated 
 my bosom. The lady seemed thoughtful and abstracted, 
 and did not act so as to prove the truth of what my cou- 
 sin, had told me. ‘ Surely,’ thought I, ‘ if this were my 
 mother, now we are alone, she could not refrain from em- 
 bracing me as her daughter.' I thought with secret 
 pride of my slender form and handsome face, and infer- 
 red that no lady ought to be ashamed to acknowledge 
 one who had been the toast of the parish, and upon whose 
 blue eyes a song had been written. 
 
 ‘ Having gone about twenty miles, a genteel; military 
 looking man, on horseback, joined us. He saluted the 
 lady in a very familiar manner, and surveyed me with 
 great attention. In a short time, we alighted at an old 
 castle at the foot of the Highland hills. The adjoining 
 grounds were beautiful, and contrasted with the heaths 
 and rocks that surrounded them, the place looked like a 
 grand oasis in the midst of a desert. It was a fine moom* 
 light evening in autumn f and the whole scene was beau- 
 tifully serene. 
 
 ‘ On entering a room brilliantly lighted up, supper was 
 ready on the table. When seated, the eyes of both the 
 lady and gentleman were continually fixed upon me : and 
 there was something that made me find pleasure in look- 
 ing at them in return. The lady observed that I would 
 be no slovenly girl when properly dressed, in which 
 opinion the gentleman coincided. He also made mo 
 
90 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 stand up to examine my shape, and had the curiosity even 
 to look at the mark on my neck. I was ashamed at this, 
 and hesitated to allow such a liberty ; but the lady said, 
 * There is no harm intended, Bessey; and you need not be 
 reserved with that gentleman.’ 
 
 * An elderly woman entered the room, whom they call- 
 ed Mrs. Burnett, and who was ordered to conduct me in- 
 to a small closet, adjoining the room. She bid me go to 
 bed, helped to undress me, and caressed me very much. 
 I was too much disturbed to fall asleep immediately. I 
 could not help thinking of what my cousin had told me, 
 and of the stratagem she used to satisfy her curiosity. 
 One is more inclined to follow bad example than good. 
 Accordingly, I got up as softly as possible, in order to 
 hearken. The gentleman and lady were still at the table; 
 but they spoke so low that I could scarcely hear what 
 they said. The waiting- worn an seemed to be of the con- 
 sultation.’ 
 
 ‘I was just going to creep into bed, when I observed 
 that the lady had raised her voice. I heard her say, 
 ‘Your reasoning is bad. You have now recovered your 
 estates, and are reconciled to the government. Had you 
 been doomed to subsist on your small pay as an officer in 
 a foreign land, why it might have been proper to conceal 
 from your daughter the secret of her birth. The case is 
 now different. You are rich, and the addition of this 
 poor girl to your family must increase our pleasures with- 
 out injuring our fortunes.’— ‘Bless me, madam,’ replied 
 my father (for 1 believed he was so), ‘ how foolishly you 
 talk. Have you forgotten that the Marquis of Yitry le 
 Francoise married our eldest daughter, Maria, under the 
 impression that she was our only child ? Did Lnot assure 
 him of the fact ? Is not my honour, therefore, implicated 
 in the affair? Besides, it was through our son-in-law’s 
 influences with the ministry that I regained my estates. 
 These estates I am engaged to sell, and to place the pur- 
 chase money in the funds, and which, on our decease, be- 
 comes his property. Were we, therefore, to produce 
 another daughter, he would consider it as a trick to de- 
 fraud him ; our dear Maria would be rendered miserable; 
 and we should experience the vengeance of a powerful 
 man.’ — ‘ Ho !’ said my mother, in a passion, * the meaning 
 of this fine speech is, that a poor infant, your own daugh- 
 ter, must be sacrificed to a point of honour, and to the 
 avarice of a greedy man. Where now is the courage of 
 Mackintosh, from whom both Turks and Christians have 
 fled, when he dares not protect an orphan ‘ I allow,’ 
 said my father, ‘ that her situation is unhappy ; times 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 91 
 
 may alter ; but at present how can we reconcile these 
 matters ?’— ‘ There is no great difficulty in that,’ said Mrs. 
 Burnett, ‘ miss is young ; she takes herself to he far 
 different from what she really is clap her into a con* 
 vent, and make a nun of her. Truly she may think her- 
 self well off so. When she is professed, let her know that 
 she is your daughter. Pray, what can your son-in-law 
 object to that V — * The advice is not amiss,’ answered my 
 father ; * I will think of it.’ My mother. said not a word; 
 but it was easy to know, by the manner in which she sat 
 musing, that she did not much like the scheme. 
 
 * Our family are all Catholics, and suffered severely 
 under the gallant Montrose, in the rebellion in 1715, and 
 in the last attempt to replace the Stuarts on the throne. 
 These circumstances, it seems had determined my 
 father to return to France, to enter into the service of 
 the Bourbons, and to renounce Scotland for ever. 
 
 * Next morning Mrs. Burnett came to call me. She 
 tried on several gowns that had been my sisters ; some 
 of them fitted me well, and I was dressed to breakfast 
 very neatly. After we had breakfasted, my mother said, 
 * Your aunt was a faithful servant of mine ; and knowing 
 her poverty, I could not but admire her goodness in tak* 
 ing you, an orphan, into her family. I therefore resolved 
 to share in this charitable work, and, as my only child is 
 just married, to take you into my family. Affairs will oblige 
 us in a short time to go abroad again, when I intend you 
 to pass for my niece. Just now we must provide you 
 with clothes and instructions, to qualify you to appear 
 without disgracing the sainted name which I intend you 
 to bear. Mrs. Burnett is a tried and respected friend, and 
 you must treat her with proper deference. She is now 
 preparing to take you to Edinburgh.’ 
 
 ‘ Whilst my mother was thus talking to me, I could not 
 help being moved. I burst into a flood of tears. There 
 is no getting the better of nature ; it will recur on all 
 occasions. My mother was an example of this ; she ca- 
 ressed me with the utmost affection. Had not Mrs. Bur- 
 nett come in, she would have betrayed all. ‘ What are 
 you about, madam?’ said the housekeeper as she entered 
 the room; ‘my master ought to be present. — ‘Prithee 
 take her away,’ said my mother : I cannot bear it any 
 longer.’ We entered a chaise, and went away.’ 
 
 ‘Mrs. Burnett could not make me speak. My heart 
 was too full ; and at Perth, where we dined, I could 
 scarcely eat a mouthful. We reached Edinburgh in safe- 
 ty. We drove to an inn in the Canongate, where Mrs. 
 Burnett engaged two rooms. Next morning she went 
 
92 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 into the city on business, and locked me up in my room. 
 I went to the window, where I stood musing on the strange 
 things that had lately happened, while a sigh escaped 
 when I thought on my poor shepherd. By and by, I cast 
 my eyes upon a young gentleman that was passing, and 
 imagine my astonishment when I recognized young 
 Forbes himself I Clapping my hands for joy, I called out 
 to him. He looked up, and, notwithstanding my fine 
 clothes, immediately knew me. * Bless me !’ he cried, 
 ‘it’s my own clear Bessy 1* and darting up the stairs, was 
 at my door in an instant. Finding it locked, he whisper- 
 ed through the key-hole, * Open the door.— What trans- 
 port ! what joy 1 How came you here ? Open, be quick, 
 open !' I told him I was locked up by a person who pos- 
 sessed great power, and that I had a hundred wonderful 
 things to tell him. We agreed that we should try to 
 meet when my keeper returned, 
 
 ‘ In a few minutes Mrs. Burnett came in, and seeing 
 me so cheerful was much pleased. ‘ There is my good 
 girl,’ said she ; I love to see you so pleasant ; it makes 
 you look as pretty again. And when you are favoured by 
 such kind friends as my master and mistress, you will but 
 show your gratitude by being cheerful.* I then took up 
 a book, which I pretended to read. Two or three of Mrs. 
 Burnett’s relations called, when I retired into the adjoin- 
 ing room, and was pleased to hear her shut the door, that 
 I had left open. Seeing the coast was clear, I coughed. 
 Forbes instantly appeared at the foot of the stairs, and, 
 pointing to a room, I stole down and joined him. 
 
 ‘ Our conversation was very affectionate— an account of 
 all that had happened to me, my birth, and the private 
 project of my parents. * The alteration that has happen- 
 ed in your affairs, Bessy, does not in the least augment 
 the respect I have for you. I delighted myself with the 
 thoughts of one day making my shepherdess' fortune; and 
 may I depend upon her loving her shepherd as well as 
 she did before ?’ I encouraged him as much as I could. 
 But when Forbes heard where I was going, and the de- 
 signs they had against me, he burst into sorrowful com- 
 plaints. ‘Alas! how wretched am I,’ said he, ‘ not to be 
 my own master ! I would frustrate all these proceedings. 
 Must you go then, dear Bessy? Shall I never see you 
 again? He seemed suffocated with grief. ‘Alas I’ an- 
 swered I, pierced to the soul, I cannot cease loving you. 
 Young, dependent, and obliged to silence, tears and sor- 
 rows are all I have to defend myself with/ 
 
 This mournful entertainment was interrupted by Mi s. 
 Burnett calling me. I had but just time to squeeze poor 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 93 
 
 Fcrbes by the hand, and ran up stairs with great precipi- 
 tation, wiping my eyes. ‘You have been crying,’ said 
 Mrs. Burnett : and what have you been doing out of your 
 apartment ‘ Oh !’ I replied, ‘ I wished to walk in the 
 pretty garden I saw out of our bed-room window 7 ; and 
 as I was coming back, a poor man was telling such a 
 mournful story in a room below, that I could not help 
 crying. — * You are a simpleton,’ said Mrs. Burnett, ‘ or 
 you would not go into a room among strangers, probably 
 bad people. Though this is a very respectable house, 
 and kept by my second cousin, yet innkeepers cannot 
 always choose the company that enter their house. Now 
 keep to your own room in future, and there is a good 
 book which will both instruct and amuse you.’ Saying 
 this, she gave me the Lives of the Saints. I sat down, 
 opened the book, and began to read the life of a female 
 martyr. 
 
 We now went to dinner, and then I called to mind 
 all that Forbes had said to me. The more I thought 
 of him, the greater aversion I had to a monastry. I could 
 not but wish that things would take such a turn as to 
 make me happy with my shepherd. 
 
 * Here we remained a few days, during which time I 
 was presented with a variety of dresses. When decked 
 out in my fashionable clothes, I found even my manner 
 of thinking altered. A great deal of my past life, that re- 
 curred to me, appeared contemptible. Only once was I per- 
 mitted to walk out with Mrs. Burnett to see this famous 
 city ; and then I scarcely observed the buildings, as I was 
 always looking out for my dear Forbes. On the morning 
 of the fifth day, I was surprised to see the chaise waiting 
 for us. In a few minutes we drove off. I looked round 
 for Forbes, and was truly mortified not to discover him. 
 4 Surely,’ I thought, ‘ he must be confined to a sick cham- 
 ber, or he never would have allowed four days to elapse 
 without attempting to see me.’ 
 
 ‘ About a week after we had returned home, my pa- 
 rents set off for London on business, and left me under 
 the care of Mrs. Burnett, under great restraint to prepare 
 me, as she said, for the mode of life to which I was des- 
 tined. Here I passed three months in solitude ; and my 
 situation would have been painful, had I not been busily 
 employed in learning some useful art or accomplishment 
 under Mrs. Burnett, who was certainly a very clever wo- 
 man. 
 
 * One clear, fine, frosty morning, at Christmas, Mrs. 
 Burnett and I walked out along the margin of a lough, on 
 which some of the neighbouring youths were skating. 
 
94 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 We met a poor young man. with a contracted knee, lean- 
 ing upon a crutch, and holding out a parcel of ballads 
 and histories. He was muffled up in a plaid, with a 
 slouching highland bonnet, that nearly covered his eyes. 
 But I instantly recognized my dear shepherd, and with 
 difficulty repressed the rising scream. He addressed my 
 companion in the bad English of a native Highlander, by 
 the flattering appellation of ‘ My bonny, sweet lady.’ 
 She smiled and walked on ; but I stopped’ and took his 
 ballads into my hand, amongst which I perceived a letter, 
 which I conveyed into my pocket. Our eyes now met, 
 and expressed the most unutterable things. Mrs. Bur- 
 nett called, and I durst not remain ; so, taking a ballad, 
 I heaved a long, deep sigh, and followed her. ‘ Why were 
 you stopping with that idle rogue ?’ said she.— Only to 
 buy the beautiful ballad called M’Gregor’s Lament.’ 
 
 ‘ When we returned home, I flew to my chamber to 
 peruse the letter. Alas ! the dear youth had suffered 
 much on my account. Our interview in Edinburgh had 
 affected him much : he had been confined to his bed. On 
 the third day he was better, when his father proposed to 
 take him to the castle of Glamas, to spend a few weeks ; 
 but the fear of being dragged from the place of my resi- 
 dence induced him to feign a continuance of his illness, 
 and before his father left, we had quitted the city. He 
 promised to remain in the neighbourhood a few days, 
 during which he expected I would convey a letter to him. 
 I kissed this sweet epistle a hundred times, and pressed 
 it to my bosom. I wept for joy that my shepherd was 
 faithful and so near to me. 
 
 ‘After supper, the cup of pleasure was dashed from my 
 lips. ‘My dear,’ said Mrs. Burnett, ‘early to-morrow 
 morning we quit this place for ever, and at Leith embark 
 in a vessel for Dieppe in France, from whence we proceed 
 to Versailles, where we shall join Colonel Mackintosh/ 
 When permitted, I retired to my bed-room, where I 
 wrote two hasty scrawls ; one to my foster-mother, and 
 the other to my shepherd, who lodged in a miserable 
 public house across the moor. I then crept slowly down 
 stairs, and gave the letters to an old female domestic, 
 who I thought would deliver them with care and des- 
 patch. But judge my vexation, when, turning round, I 
 saw Mrs. Burnett standing behind me, who said, in an 
 angry tone, ‘ Miss, retire to your bed,’ and ordered 
 old Madge to deliver up the letter, I walked slowly up 
 stairs, when I flung myself upon the bed, and spent the 
 night in tears and vain regrets. 
 
 • Next morning we set off before day-light. I was much 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 95 
 
 offended. To be kept like a prisoner, to have my letters 
 intercepted, and to be carried to any place that pleased 
 others, appeared to me the height of cruelty and injustice. 
 But the next day I regained my wonted cheerfulness. At 
 Leith we embarked in a small vessel, and on the follow- 
 ing day set sail. After being driven about for six weeks 
 with contrary winds, during which I suffered severely 
 from sea-sickness, we reached Dieppe. We proceeded to 
 %n inn, and rested two days. 
 
 ‘ On the third day, we commenced our journey to Ver- 
 sailles, when, coming into a narrow road, I saw a pilgrim 
 walking by the side of the chaise, who often fixed his eyes 
 on me. Mrs. Burnett bid me mind him. ‘ Look, Bessey,’ 
 said she, ‘ at this poor young man. He has something 
 very agreeable in his face : perhaps the perfections of his 
 mind may answer those of his body. I was looking at 
 the pilgrim while she was thus talking to me. Imagine 
 my surprise : it was Forbes. I started at the sight. It 
 was very lucky for me that Mrs. Burnett, who had taken 
 a liking to my lover, put her head out to bid him take 
 care of the wheel, or she would have discovered my con- 
 fusion. He seemed very cheerful, and fell into discourse 
 with Mrs. Burnett. He said he had been performing a 
 pilgrimage, had just landed at Dieppe, and that he was 
 two hundred leagues from home. She told him he ought 
 to rest himself. Forbes, who saw he had gained her good 
 will, tried to please her. For this purpose he told her 
 extraordinary stories, with which she seemed enchanted. 
 We were now come to the place where we were to dine. 
 Mrs. Burnett made the pilgrim sit down to the table 
 with us ; telling me I should never be haughty to the 
 poor. 
 
 ‘ If ever you have been in love, Rosina, judge of the 
 pleasure I felt in the enjoyment of my lover’s company, 
 who gave me such evident marks of his devotedness. All 
 my cares ceased. How great soever my shepherd’s joy 
 might be, he possessed himself very well, and with great 
 address. Mrs. Burnett carried her affection for the hand- 
 some pilgrim so far, as to propose to him to ride behind 
 our chaise, lest he should fatigue himself with walking. 
 
 ‘ Whilst Mrs. Burnett went out to settle a dispute with 
 the postmaster, Forbes said a hundred endearing things. 
 Old Madge had faithfully delivered my letter, telling him 
 of my destined voyage. The one that Mrs. Burnett got 
 was that intended for my foster-mother. This intelli- 
 gence delighted me. He said that he resolved to follow 
 us to Leith, and to carry me off in spite of all the old 
 lady’s precautions ; but that, before he could reach tha 
 
96 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 port, we had sailed. He wrote a hasty excuse to his fa- 
 ther, and took the mail for London, thence to Ports- 
 mouth, where he obtained a vessel for Dieppe. There he 
 watched our arrival for two weeks. He had learned the 
 time we intended to proceed on our journey from our 
 postillion. 
 
 ‘ I am sensible,’ I observed, * of the marks you give me 
 of your passion. But, dear shepherd, tell me what all 
 this signifies ? We must part ; had we not better do it 
 now ?’ — ‘ Ah ! charmng Bessey,’ said Forbes, in a sorrow- 
 ful tone 4 must I then die ? Do you not know that my life 
 depends on the happiness of seeing you, and that I value 
 nothing so much in the whole world ? To bid me leave 
 you ! You no longer love me !’ Tears came into his eyes. 
 4 Hide your tears, said I, stifling my own ; ‘ alas .' I love 
 you ; but if I am dear to you, and you will leave me. take 
 care that Mrs. Burnett perceive nothing of this ; if she 
 does, we are lost. Try to please her; her interest is great. 
 She seems prejudiced in your favour. I do assure you, 
 my dear shepherd,’ continued I, giving him my hand, 
 4 that thought is not at all disagreeable.’ Mrs. Burnett 
 came in, to tell me we must depart. 
 
 4 We now proceeded to Rouen. It was Mrs. Burnett’s 
 pleasure to stay a day in this city ; and when she went 
 to mass, I remained, under pretext of having a head- 
 ache. Forbes and I enjoyed the opportunity with ex- 
 treme and ardent delight. There was something so bold, 
 so ardent, so romantic, in my shepherd’s love, that he 
 was exalted in my eyes beyond exception. We reached 
 Versailles in safety. My mother, who was living in an 
 elegant hotel, received me very affectionately. I was in- 
 structed to call her aunt, and which I never could do 
 with a good grace. However, under this appelation, she 
 behaved to me with the utmost tenderness. She request- 
 ed me to assume the name of Agnes, as this was in affec- 
 tionate remembrance of my grandmother. 
 
 ‘ After some interviews with Mrs. Burnett, she obtain- 
 ed for Forbes the situation of steward in our family. All 
 were highly pleased with this arrangement. Mrs. Burnett 
 was forty-five, and looked vvell for her age. Her eyes were 
 blue, her eyebrows but thinly sown ; her mouth was well 
 enough, had it not been for a wart upon her upper lip, 
 which was well covered with down ; she had a peaked 
 chin ; flat cheeks, raised up by two strutting bones near 
 the eyes ; and her forehead was so little, that her head- 
 dress, always ruffled, hung over her eyebrows. 
 
 4 Her temper was agreeable, and she had been remark- 
 able from her childhood for a tender heart ; but the in- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 97 
 
 fidelity of several lovers had given her a disgust to the 
 conjugal state. The engaging behaviour of Forbes, re- 
 moved these disgusts, and rekindled her dying flames, 
 and her heart became captivated. Being always frugal, 
 she had amassed a large sum of money, with which she 
 intended to make Forbes’ fortune. However disagree- 
 able the deception might be, he was obliged to continue 
 it. 
 
 * At the end of about five weeks, my father, who was 
 always called Colonel in the family, returned from Brus- 
 sels. His arrival decided my lot ; and Mrs. Burnett com- 
 municated to me, that in eight days I was to go to a 
 monastry. Forbes and I soon met, and bewailed the 
 hard fate that was going to part us. 
 
 “Dear Bessey,’ said he to mein the garden, ‘I adore 
 you, you cannot doubt it. Though they conceal your 
 birth, it is not the less certain. You know mine ; so that 
 things are pretty equal, and can be no obstacle to our 
 union. In the mean time, they are sacrificing you ; and 
 you cannot be ignorant that they design to oblige you to 
 take the vows. Then you would languish all your life. 
 Take courage — the time presses — let us take this interval 
 to secure our felicity.— ‘ What do you mean?’ said I in 
 amazement : ‘ Let us beware that nobody suspects our 
 correspondence, for that would ruin us. ‘ I know that,’ 
 replied Forbes ; ‘but if once you go into the convent, I 
 shall never see you again, you will be compelled to be a 
 nun.’ — ‘Alas!’ cried I, ‘how shall I prevent it?’— ‘Dare 
 but to do what I tell you,’ said Forbes ; ‘ Mrs. Burnett 
 has been pressing me this fortnight to marry her. At 
 first I opposed it ; but I have since thought I could take 
 that opportunity to unite us.’— ‘ What ! ungrateful man,' 
 cried I, misunderstanding what he said, ‘ can you forget 
 your oaths, and thus betray me?’ — ‘ Ah ! why do you re- 
 proach me ?’ said my lover : ‘ is it to forget you to seek 
 the means of uniting us for ever ? Adieu. I will give you 
 an account of my project as soon as I can.’ 
 
 ‘ Two days passed, when I met him coming up an alley 
 in the garden, and singing. ‘ You are very happy,’ said 
 I, ‘ to rejoice whilst I weep. I believe you intend it me 
 as a favour, that I may leave the world with the less re- 
 gret.’ — ‘ Fie ! charming Bessey,’ said he, ‘ how cruel is 
 your reproach, and how little do you know me ! If I have 
 appeared easy, it is because it depends on you to unite us 
 with indissoluble bonds. The day is fixed, and the priest 
 is ready. Mrs. Burnett has engaged him, and he will do 
 every thing she desires. She will have the ceremony per- 
 formed in the night, and will keep it secret for some time. 
 
 G 
 
98 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 The priest is to he here to-night : he knows me, as I have 
 seen him on this affair. Instead of performing the cere- 
 mony at two o’clock, you and I will be in the chapel at 
 twelve. The bad light, and the head-dress you must put 
 on covering your face, will befriend the project.’ 
 
 * The stratagem is practicable,’ replied I ; * but where 
 would be the use of it, if it did succeed? And I 
 plainly perceive that such a marriage is not according to 
 form. But suppose it should be, since I shall be forced to 
 hide it, shall I go the less to the convent? for my de- 
 parture is unalterably fixed.’— 4 It is for this reason,’ re- 
 plied Forbes, ‘ that we must lay hold of this opportunity. 
 We will fly ; the wide world is before us. Are you not 
 sensible of their cruelty, and the shameful sacrifice they 
 are going to make of your liberty, your birth-right, and 
 your fortune, of which they will frustrate you under the 
 most frivolous pretences ? If you once enter the cloister, 
 who can rescue you from thence ?’ 
 
 ‘ Pray how do you propose to come off with Mrs. Bur- 
 nett ? I suppose you intend to marry her at last.’ I could 
 not help laughing at these last words ; my lover did so 
 too. * Good God ! my dear Bessey,’ said he, ‘ you are 
 mighty prudent : you overwhelm me with difficulties 
 that I did not foresee.’ — ‘ It is what we must think of, for 
 all that,’ said I : * All I can say to you is, that I will suf- 
 fer the last extremity before I become a nun. I have an 
 invincible repugnance to it ; and I will lay any thing in 
 the world that you are the cause of it.’— ‘ Oh ! very well/ 
 said Forbes ; ‘I stand then to my first proposal. But be 
 sure you hold yourself in readiness : I will come and 
 fetch you when it is time.’ 
 
 ‘I returned to my mother’s apartment in a terrible 
 agitation, but did not let her perceive it. She said, 
 ‘Draw near the fire, niece,’ said she, ‘ I want to speak to 
 you.’ In this discourse, all the objections I had formed 
 against the project of the night vanished, and to which I 
 fyad, before this, a very strong repugnance. 
 
 ‘You know very well, Agnes,’ said my mother, ‘who 
 you are. From the time I first saw you I had compas- 
 sion on your condition. It is on that account I have pre- 
 ferred you. You kept sheep— you were at all times ex- 
 posed to the extremity of heats and colds. In order that 
 you might be the more considered, I have taken you to 
 my house, where you pass for my niece. You deserve 
 my regard, and I must try to complete my happiness. I 
 am sending you to a nunnery : pray to the Lord to keep 
 you there. The world is full of trouble. Those who are 
 born to be the happiest in it, groan under its disappoint- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 99 
 
 ments. Marriage is a source of troubles ; not to mention 
 tbe risk of falling into bad hands, besides the usual mis- 
 fortunes that attend it. the detail of which is shocking. 
 Look, therefore, on the cloister, as a safe port against all the 
 storms of this life. If the grate has a frightful aspect, cus- 
 tom will render it pleasant. It is in retirement we truly 
 enjoy ourselves. You will not resemble those religious 
 persons, detached from the world indeed, yet who carry 
 the remembrance of it in their heart, and regret having 
 embraced that state of life. For your part, dear Agnes, it 
 will not be your case. Taken up with the thoughts of 
 your salvation, you will pass away jour days in peace of 
 mind. I will come sometimes to partake your happiness.' 
 
 ‘ These last words seemed so soften my mother. Her 
 eyes were full, and she strove to hide her tears by turn- 
 ing away and covering her face. I was too much moved 
 to dispute any part of nature’s right over me. * Ah ! dear 
 mother,’ cried I, throwing myself at her feet, * what have 
 I done that you should make me a sacrifice ?’ She em- 
 braced me. My mother understood but half the import 
 of these w r ords. The time was favourable. Ah ! why did 
 I not embrace it ? Quite impressed with my ignorance 
 on this subject, she began again. ‘ You are in the right, 
 my dear Agnes, to call me a mother. You will know 
 one day, when you are a nun, that I am really so.’ The 
 word Nun pierced my heart, and suspended the senti- 
 ments I had for my mother. I thought how I should 
 snatch myself from the state they designed for me. 
 
 ‘ Company coming in, I went to find Forbes. I went 
 backwards and forwards, but my inquiry was in vain. 
 My heart trembled ; it presaged something. I went out 
 of the hotel, and came into a lane. I thought at the end 
 of that lane I should find my lover. Ah ! what do I see? 
 Forgive my tears. A chaise, and four men seize Forbes 1 
 — he sees me he cries out !— he resists ! Vain efforts 1 
 he is now at a great distance ! 
 
 * This sight so startled me that I stood immovable. As 
 long as the chaise was in sight, I stood and wept bitterly. 
 I came back like one distracted. Supper was ready, and 
 they were looking for me. Mrs. Burnett had a joy in her 
 face that soon vanished when I told her what had hap- 
 pened. ‘ Oh, heaven !’ she cried, quite furious, ‘ what is 
 it you say ? I am in despair. Go down to supper, and I 
 will run and know what is the matter. No, stay ; you 
 are all in tears, poor child ! Good-natured thing : Away 
 she ran to the coffee-house where this scene was trans- 
 acted. They respected Mrs. Burnett, and they gave us 
 this account. 
 
100 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 * In the morning,’ said the landlord, ‘four men arrived 
 at my house. Three were dressed like gentlemen : the 
 fourth appeared like an English livery servant. About 
 half an hour ago, one of them said to another, ‘ Go and 
 tell that young man whom you see coming out of that 
 house, that I want to speak a word with him. St. Gene- 
 val (his French name) came. Before he entered my 
 house, the gentleman whispered in my ear, ‘lama police 
 officer, landlord, You will see a little bustle. Can you 
 guess who that young man is that I have sent for ‘ No, 
 truly,’ answered I. ‘ I know that he does business for 
 Colonel Mackintosh, and every body gives him a good 
 word. We all love him.’ — ‘I believe you,’ said he, ‘and 
 it is because he is beloved elsewhere that we are going to 
 take him away. I give you warning, in case he should 
 resist, to be quiet. The young man entered. He in- 
 stantly knew the English servant, and turned as pale as 
 death. ‘ Come, sir,’ said the officer, ‘ take courage ; no 
 harm is intended you. I am glad we have found you. 
 You must go along with us; your father expects you.' 
 During this discourse, St. Geneval would have escaped ; 
 but finding himself collared, he fought like a dragon, 
 though the number overpowered him, and put him into 
 a chaise ready for the purpose.’ 
 
 ‘ Mrs. Burnett was so astonished, that she went away 
 without answering a word. As soon as we were alone, 
 she squeezed me by the hand, and began to weep bitter- 
 ly, in which I joined her very sincerely. The poor wo- 
 man embraced me with affection, imagining my tears to 
 be the effect of my compassion. 
 
 'Two days after this cruel accident, spent in tears, my 
 mother brought me hither. During the journey, she rode 
 in a separate chaise. She durst not witness the grief I 
 displayed. I was very kindly received. No artifice was 
 left untried to induce me to take the veil. The sorrowful 
 air I had not yet laid aside, into the cause of which they 
 did not penetrate, gave room, without doubt, to think I 
 had no relish for the cloister. This was too contrary to 
 the interests of the house, by reason of the portion they 
 expected with me, not to excite their utmost efforts to 
 make me change my mind. 
 
 ‘ One day, as I was walking by myself in the garden 
 with a book, the nun who waited at the turn came and 
 told me that there was a gentleman, who called himself 
 my relation, waiting for me in the parlour. This news 
 startted me : I did not know who this could be, unless it 
 were somebody who came from my lover. I flew to the 
 parlour. Scarcely was I entered, when the sound of 4 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 
 
 101 
 
 well-known and ranch-loved voice, swift as lightning, 
 reached ray heart. ‘ Is it you, then ?’ said I to him ; ‘ is 
 
 it you ? I had not power to say any more. Drawing 
 
 near, I gave him my hand through the grate : he took it, 
 he moistened it with his tears, he knelt down, he cried, 
 he talked, and all this without my being at all sensible 
 of the matter.’ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A S soon as I was recovered from the agitation into 
 which the sight of my lover had thrown me, I wanted 
 to know how he had made his escape. ‘ Could you doubt 
 for one moment.’ cried he, ‘ so much in love as I am, that 
 I should not find an opportunity of returning to you. 
 Nothing can ever shake my constancy. If you continue 
 in the same sentiments ’ ‘ Can you doubt it, ungrate- 
 
 ful man?’ said I : ‘the tears I have shed in your absence, 
 and the alteration you may easily perceive in me, are but 
 too sure proofs.’ Forbes, transported with this acknow- 
 ledgment, expressed his sentiments for me in the ten- 
 derest manner. I imparted to him the present situation 
 of my affairs. ‘ We shall put an end io them,’ replied he, 
 ‘ if you will enter into the lawful measures that I shall 
 propose to you. But I will give you an exact detail of all 
 that has happened to me since I saw you.’ 
 
 ‘ ' You have little idea, lovely Bessey,’ said Forbes, ‘ of 
 the anguish that seized me when I found myself taken. I 
 wearied all those that carried me off. Our old servant 
 cursed his commission, and had it not been for the force 
 and precaution of the police, I should have abandoned 
 myself to all the excess of my passion. I arrived at Paris, 
 and was immediately conveyed to a hotel where my fa- 
 ther lodgod. Some person had recognized me at Ver- 
 sailles, and informed my father of the situation I held in 
 Colonel Mackintosh’s house. He was enraged beyond 
 measure, and, leaving his duties in parliament, hastened 
 to Paris, and obtained an order from the minister of the 
 police to convey me thither. These men related all my 
 extravagancies, and my father thought that I was in- 
 sane, and my refusing to take any sustenance confirmed 
 him in his opinion, and he therefore treated me with 
 great lenity ; but there is no consolation for a person 
 truly in love. I was determined not to eat till I was at 
 liberty, and I persevered in this frenzy ; and, after lying 
 four days in continual transports of passion, on the seventh 
 I was seized with a fever. 
 
 * * When my father found matters to be serious, he came 
 to me, the better to clear up his doubts. My condition 
 
102 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 startled him extremely : nothing less than my life was at 
 stake, and he was very sensibly affected. Taking me by 
 the hand, he awoke me from the dosing into which my 
 illness had thrown me, and gave me his word of honour, 
 that, if I would admit of some assistance for the re-estab- 
 lishment of my health, I might go where I pleased. I 
 could depend upon his word ; and his favourable pro- 
 mises induced me to become all obedience. In order to 
 give him proofs of it, I took some broth before him. The 
 servants were overjoyed at this change in me. My mo- 
 ther, who had followed to shield me from my father’s 
 wrath, ceased to weep. She came to my bedside, and 
 embraced me with the most lively transports, confirming 
 to me what my father had said, and adding on her side 
 all that could contribute to my entire satisfation. The 
 many days I had been without food had so inflamed my 
 stomach, that it would retain nothing, and Hay two days 
 in a most melancholy condition. My mother never went 
 from my bed-side. But through their great care and as- 
 siduity, I recovered by degrees ; and a fortnight after 
 they judged me out of danger. 
 
 ‘ ‘ When I was able to talk, my mother, who behaved in 
 such a manner as to gain my confidence, was made ac- 
 quainted with the situation of my heart ; and dear Bessy, 
 that could not be without betraying your secret, for 
 which I ask you pardon. My mother heard your history 
 with astonishment. She went directly, and told it to my 
 father, whose surprise was still greater. I also made him 
 master of the whole affair you had imparted to me. He 
 said you had equity on your side, and if there could be 
 proof of your birth, he gave his consent to our union, 
 and promised to afford me his assistance for the accom- 
 plishment of all my designs. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Imagine my joy, adorable Bessy, upon this promise, 
 coming from such a worthy father, whose weight, autho- 
 rity, and knowledge of the law, were sure warrants of its 
 success. I would have thrown myself at his feet, but he 
 withheld me, and prevented it. The ardent desire I had 
 of seeing you again, and bringing you these good tidings, 
 soon restored me to a perfect state of health. 
 
 ‘ ‘ My father did not permit me to languish. He told 
 me that the law was on your side ; that the proofs which 
 I had alleged were sufficient for you to be proclaimed the 
 daughter of Mackintosh ; and that all we had to tear was, 
 that, being in the power of your parents, nobody would 
 care to espouse your interest. He said that were he in 
 my place, he should pursue it with the utmost rigour. 
 
 ‘ ‘ These words were so many oracles to me and I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 103 
 
 knew how to expound them. My dear father returned 
 to London, promising to collect in Scotland the proofs 
 necessary to establish your rights, while I hastened back 
 to Versailles ; but judge of my despair, when I found you 
 were gone. I kept closely incog, and contrived to obtain 
 an interview with Mrs. Burnett.’ But it required all my 
 address to extract the place of retreat from the cautious 
 old dame, who, I believe, began to suspect the truth. 
 But I cared not for her jealousies ; for, the minute I 
 heard you were at Amiens, I took horse, with my father’s 
 butler, and have ridden day and night to behold you once 
 again. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Now, my dear Bessy, if you love me sincerely, make 
 your escape, and go with me. You shall plight your faith 
 to me, and I will do the same to you. I will conduct you 
 to my mother, who has agreed to wait for us near Paris. 
 There you will find a second mother more affectionate 
 and more indulgent than her who has abandoned you to 
 your ill stars.’ 
 
 * Here Forbes stopped, and fixed his eyes tenderly on 
 me, expecting my answer. I was in extreme perplexity. 
 I was doubtful, and could not come to a determination, 
 my lover saw my incertitude, and continued to lay be- 
 fore me the most moving and powerful reasons. He re- 
 called to my remembrance the situation in which I was 
 placed by the slender regard of my parents, so different 
 from what my birth and the ties of blood required. He 
 said that I was sacrificed to a sordid interest ; in short, 
 that I was lost if I did not take a vigorous resolution, 
 that I should be obliged very shortly to take the veil, and 
 that then there was no longer any hopes. He said a 
 great deal more, equally convincing, making me clearly 
 see the harbarity there was in rendering me unhappy for 
 the sake of a sister, who ought to be no dearer than my- 
 salf. This determined me. ‘ Retire, my shepherd,’ said 
 I to him ; ‘ I fear they will mistrust so long a conversa- 
 tion. Be here again to-morrow at this time. I promise 
 you an answer, and I fancy you will not be dissatisfied 
 with it.’ 
 
 • The aversion I had to the cloister inclined me to em- 
 brace the means proposed to me for quitting it ; yet I 
 judged the step so dangerous, that I could not come to a 
 resolution. Then again I thought it was wrong to quit a 
 convent to follow a young man, blinded perhaps by his 
 passion. The remainder of that day, and the night fol- 
 lowing were passed in cruel anxiety and doubts. At last, 
 love and the hatred of a convent carried the day. I be- 
 lieved myself excusable, since my parents not only dis- 
 
104 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR 
 
 claimed me as their daughter, but- treated me with un- 
 paralleled severity ; while the advantages that were pro- 
 posed appeared to me to be solid. Therefore I entirely 
 delivered myself up to these pleasing ideas, and thought 
 of nothing but by what means I could get out of the fatal 
 convent with the greatest privacy. 
 
 ‘ What cannot love effect ? Difficult as it was to make 
 my escape without being discovered, an expedient occur- 
 red presently, which seemed to promise success. I had 
 taken a fancy to the portress. She was merry and good- 
 natured, and her employment engaged her in various 
 affairs. I sometimes answered for the portress, and 
 opened the gates. The keys wefe hung up in the parlour, 
 the grate opened upon the outward portress’s roon>, it 
 often happened that I was alone at the door, I was well 
 acquainted with all the passages about the house. 
 
 * Forbes was punctual to his appointment, and I com- 
 municated my thoughts to him. He hesitated from his 
 fear of my being surprised in the execution of my design, 
 in which case we should never have another opportunity. 
 In his opinion, it was better to make the attempt in the 
 night. But it was impossible ; for, as soon as night came, 
 the portress brought the keys of the inclosure into the 
 superior’s chamber. I bid him be of good courage, and 
 showed him, that, provided he had his chaise in readi- 
 ness at some distance from the convent gate, and he 
 could depend upon his horses, it would be easy for me to 
 jump into the vehicle, and there would be no danger of 
 being stopped, although they were to see me in the very 
 instant of my flight ; that the only critical moment was 
 the opening of the gate. Forbes agreed with me in the 
 feasibility of this enterprize, and *hat it should be exe- 
 cuted on the fourth morning, to avoid suspicions that 
 might arise from these two visits. 
 
 ‘ I passed the three intervening nights in the most 
 racking anxiety of mind. My comfort was, that I was 
 not suspected. At last the important morning arrived ; 
 and I was resolved to execute my design whilst the nuns 
 were at matins. Mother Portress never missed ; and it 
 was her practice, before she went, to put the key of the 
 first door into the turn that belonged to the outward por- 
 tress, that they might be able to do the business of the 
 house. I left the door of my cell partly open, by which 
 Mother Portress was obliged to pass. I waited till she 
 was gone to choir, and then I ran to the parlour. Great 
 was my joy when I espied the keys. I seized them, and 
 opened the door of the enclosure. I shut it after me, 
 and carried away the keys, that I might have time to 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 105 
 
 join my lover, having reason to fear being discovered by 
 an old portress, who twice asked, ‘ Who is there,’ and 
 rang her bell, uneasy at not hearing any body answer. 
 
 4 My locking the door saved me ; otherwise I should 
 have been brodght back, as I was so long before I could 
 open the street door, which had a very difficult lock. The 
 nuns had run up to a window, saw my design, and cried 
 out for assistance. Forbes, who was upon the watch, ran 
 up with his servant to the door, and used all his efforts 
 to force it open. Seeing him so near, I recovered my 
 spirits ; and, having bethougt myself of making use of 
 another key, it opened at once. I screamed for joy, and 
 threw myself into Forbes’ arms, but not without trem- 
 bling. The nuns, desperately enraged at my flight, con- 
 tinued their cries ; but we were soon out of sight. We 
 went by post, by a bye-road, that whole day, without 
 stopping, to a village where we were out of danger of 
 being taken. Here Forbes had engaged a chaplain, who 
 gave notice to the curate that he intended to say mass 
 the next morning at break of day. Under this pretext he 
 married us, in the presence of four peasants, who were 
 witnesses, and signed a marriage certificate (ready for 
 that purpose), not suspecting the least contrivance. Af- 
 ter this, we set out with mutual satisfaction. 
 
 ‘We arrived without interruption, and in high spirits, 
 at my mother-in-law’s residence near Paris. She received 
 me with the utmost kindness and affection, and I had all 
 the reason imaginable to bless my happy lot. Here I 
 lived during a month in a state of happiness not to be 
 described ; when, in consequence of a letter from my 
 husband’s father, we prepared to leave France for Lon- 
 don. But, alas ! how cruel are the turns of fortune ! 
 
 ‘My father-in-law, the Lord Advocate, had commenced 
 his inquiries respecting my birth. One of my father’s 
 friends soon informed him of the circumstance, and he 
 sent an agent into Scotland, to defeat any attempt to es- 
 tablish my claims. My flight from the convent with 
 Forbes’ son. unravelled the whole design to my father, 
 and filled him with rage, which his connexion with the 
 French court enabled him to gratify. 
 
 * At night, as we lay quietly asleep, we were awakened 
 by our servants rushing into our chamber all in tears. 
 ‘Ah ! said they, ‘ with what misfortunes are we threat- 
 ened ! The house is filled with armed men, and he that 
 heads them says he is come in the king’s name.’ Then 
 two Exempts appeared, who signified their orders to us. 
 My dear husband would have defended himself ; but, 
 alas! what could he do against twenty men? X did 
 
106 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 nothing but scream most dreadfully ; but nothing could 
 mollify these barbarians. They forced us asunder, and 
 I know not what they did with my husband. They 
 brought me hither with great expedition, where the first 
 thing I saw was my father and mother ; rage in his coun- 
 tenance, and her eyes drowned in tears. ‘ Well, hussy, 
 said the colonel (for I cannot call him father) ‘does it be- 
 come you to conspire against those who have raised you 
 from nothing? — to have recourse to calumny, for setting 
 yourself at liberty and getting a husband ? You have but 
 two things to resolve on, sorry wretch ; either to take 
 the habit to-morrow, or perish.’ He held up his hand at 
 me. ‘ Mind what I say to you ; if in two days you do not 
 ask to be received as a nun, expect no longer to find in me 
 a protector, but an executioner.’ With these words he 
 led me to the door of the inclosure, whispered the abbess, 
 and retired. 
 
 ‘I will not repeat to you all the reproaches that I had 
 to suffer from the superior. Enraged at me for the trick 
 I had played her, she was incessantly tormenting me, 
 and saying that the best thing for me was implicit obedi- 
 ence ; that Colonel Mackintosh had no mercy ; and that, 
 as soon as I had taken the veil, it behoved me to forget 
 my former life. I passed that night and the day follow- 
 ing in affliction, and on the third I entered into my 
 noviceship, 
 
 ‘ I cannot tell, my dear Miss, what is become of Forbes. 
 Has rage, grief, or disappointment killed him ? Has he 
 been immured in the dungeons of the Bastile? Has he 
 returned to his own country ? and is he trying to effect 
 my deliverance? These doubts continually haunt my 
 mind. 
 
 ‘ At the expiration of a year, the stern Colonel Mackin- 
 tosh came, and sent for me, and said, with a tone and 
 manner, the remembrance of which made me shudder, 
 that if I did not make my profession the next day, he 
 would remove me, and inflict upon me a punishment suit- 
 ed to my disobedience. The cruel sacrifice was made. 
 The awful ceremony of taking the veil appears to me like 
 a horrific dream. I was more dead than alive. 
 
 * Since that time they use me with more kindness, be- 
 cause they think all is over. But what satisfaction is 
 that to me? Though I hide it from them. I bear in my 
 heart my first engagement. On uttering these words St. 
 Agnes wept most bitterly. ‘Spouse of my heart!’ she 
 cried, ‘ still let me pronounce that name, so solemnly ac- 
 quired at the foot of the altar ! Ah ! nothing shall ever 
 efface thy dear image from my soul 1’ 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 107 
 
 Sighs interrupted her speech. I was most sensi- 
 bly struck with this narrative. The circumstances 
 I was then in made it affect me the more, and to 
 participate in her feelings. I did my utmost to 
 comfort her. 
 
 When I related my own adventures and suffer- 
 ings, St. Agnes alw'ays comforted me. ‘ Your pros- 
 pects,’ she would say, ‘are bright: you have the 
 pleasure of hope left you still. That is not my case 
 in my present situation ; all is lost in this world for 
 me. Death, that puts an end to other people’s 
 troubles, opens to me the door to everlasting pun- 
 ishments. Which duty must I comply with ? Am 
 I a wife, or a religious woman ? I am both at the 
 same time !’ — ‘ Why did not you,’ said I, ‘ plead 
 your marriage to William Forbes, when the colonel 
 would oblige you to become a nun ?’ — ‘ Did I not V 
 she replied : ‘ he knew it very well.’ 
 
 I endeavoured, by a close application to my 
 studies, to render myself a worthy companion to 
 my noble lover, to gratify my excellent patroness, 
 and to forget the difficulties of my situation. Our 
 convent contained thirty women ; and it would be 
 difficult to describe their modest, and devout man- 
 ners. At meals, all sat in silence. When the supe- 
 rior rang a bell, every body rose from table, and 
 grace was said. St. Agnes and I usually retired 
 together. Several weeks passed in this manner. I 
 felt myself as if banished from the busy world. 
 But while sitting alone one morning, the abbess 
 sent me a letter, 'which I opened, and read as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 * My dear Rosin a, 
 
 * I have delayed writing until I could give you some clear 
 account of the strange occurrences since your departure. 
 Surely heaven watches over the virtuous, and directs 
 their actions : for had you refused to accept the safe and 
 holy retreat which I proposed, the consequences might 
 have been most tragical. Now you can sleep tranquilly, 
 until the fiery spirit of your lovers subsides. The night 
 you left Uxbridge, the Earl of Lemington supped with us. 
 He seized an opportunity of imploring me to explain to 
 
108 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 him your intentions, and the place of your intended re- 
 treat. This I told him was, at the present time, impos- 
 sible, I being bound to secrecy ; but that he should know 
 every thing as soon as the communication could be made 
 with propriety. 
 
 ‘ Mr. Fleming, who was very gay at supper, pressed the 
 earl to witness the celebration of his nuptials in the 
 morning; but his lordship pleaded a previous engage- 
 ment. X felt very uneasy at the boyish playfulness of our 
 old friend, as it would render the impending blow more 
 heavy. Poor Fleming rose early, and dressed himself in 
 the gayest manner. He was scented with every variety 
 of perfumes. When his toilet finished, one of his ser- 
 vants ran to inform him that his bride had fled during 
 the night. He instantly rushed into Sir William’s room, 
 almost suffocated with rage. He swore furiously against 
 the earl, with whom he concluded you had run off. He 
 threatened to arrest you for the jewels he had presented 
 to you. I did not see him. for he set off to London, to 
 apply to the lord mayor, as he said, for a warrant to ap- 
 prehend you. I laughed outright. His jew-like habits 
 predominated ; and he regretted the loss of his jewels 
 more than the loss of your person. But I despatched a 
 servant after him with the jewels, which you had sealed 
 up and directed to him. 
 
 ‘ The news of your flight soon reached Captain Lambe, 
 who was living at an inn in Uxbridge, under an assumed 
 name. He instantly joined in the pursuit, and soon 
 overtook poor Fleming. Knowing the chaise of the old 
 Scotch broker, he directed his postillions to overturn it. 
 This trick was executed, as the fellows said when after- 
 wards apprehended, in grand style ; and Fleming, with 
 hfs chaise, were left in a ditch. The captain from London 
 set off to France, with the avowed determination of pun- 
 ishing the earl for his audacity in carrying you off. 
 
 ‘After my return to town, the Earl of Lemington called 
 upon me. I was surprised to see him look so pale and 
 debilitated, and expressed as much. He smiled, and said 
 that he had been confined for a few days by a severe cold. 
 Sir William, who was present, observed that he heard the 
 captain had gone upon the continent. ‘ Yes,’ replied his 
 lordship, ‘ and he compels me to follow him.’— ‘May I 
 ask for what purpose?’ said I. — ‘To vindicate my hon- 
 our,’ said he. ‘and to protect one who is dearer to me 
 than life, and who I am afraid will need protection.’ — ‘ If,’ 
 said I, ‘you allude to my young friend, I assure you that 
 she is perfectly secure from the attacks or insults of the 
 captain, even were he to discover her retreat.’ — ‘ How !' 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 109 
 
 exclaimed he, ‘ do you doubt my honour ? Do you ques- 
 tion my sincerity ?’— * No,’ no,’ I replied ; * but things must 
 remain as they are at present for some time. I will not 
 violate my promise to you, if you are a good boy.' But 
 your lordship alarms me. Here you rush out of a sick- 
 chamber, at the risk of your life, because madcap Lambe 
 rambles over the continent. As to Rosina, she is perfect- 
 ly safe. Rest, then, upon this assurance ; return home 
 and take care of your health. 
 
 “But the captain has used expressions injurious to 
 my honour. He thinks that I accompanied Rosina in 
 her flight, and says he will punish me. Is this to be en- 
 dured? No,’ he continued with animation, and lifting 
 up his fine eyes to heaven, * I do most solemnly swear, 
 that, in such a case, I would pursue the braggart to the 
 farthest verge of Siberia, to defend my honour.’ 
 
 * When he found I was bent on concealing your place 
 of residence, he retired with Sir William, who is his 
 banker. I was condemning his folly at dinner ; but my 
 husband defended him stoutly, said he was a noble fel- 
 low, and that if he had a son who acted so, he would ap- 
 plaud his spirit. 
 
 ‘ The day after you left us, your parents returned home, 
 much chagrined. I had much difficulty in appeasing the 
 wrath of your father. I gave him your dutiful letter ; 
 but he thrust it into the fire, in a passion, without read- 
 ing a line. He next demanded to see Mr. Fleming, 
 whom he said he would accompany in tracing you out ; 
 but when he found that his intended son-in-law was 
 gone to London, he appeared still more enraged. He re- 
 fused all my offers of kindness, and upbraided me for allow- 
 ing you to escape. Yourmotherwasin tears. Ongoingaway 
 she gave me a look that compensated for your father’s 
 rudeness. Now, my dear girl, I am not angry with your 
 father. The disappointment he experienced was very 
 vexatious, and his want of education rendered him un- 
 able to express his feelings in polite terms. He gave way 
 to his natural feelings, and scorned any thing like decep- 
 tion or hypocrisy. 
 
 ‘Your young friend Georgiana sends her best love. 
 Poor girl 1 her health, since your departure, has been 
 very bad. Her appetite is quite gone ; yet she never 
 complains, and pursues her studies with undiminished 
 ardour. Her physicians have ordered her to take an air- 
 ing in the park every day. I always accompany her. Do 
 write to her, and cheer up her spirits. As soon as she is 
 better, I will see you on my way to Paris. I remain, 
 
 ‘ Your sincere friend, Mary Ann Beckfoed.’ 
 
110 rosina; or, 
 
 This letter afforded me great uneasiness. I trem- 
 bled for the safety of the earl, and wished, for his 
 sake, that I had continued hid in the obscurity of 
 my native village. I confess that I felt more vex- 
 ation than grief at my father’s conduct. I pitied 
 my affectionate mother, and often dropped a tear 
 at the remembrance of my amiable friend Georgi- 
 ana. St. Agnes used her utmost efforts to dissipate 
 my fears, and to comfort me. A month was pass- 
 ed in this manner, when, one day, a boarder, called 
 Mademoiselle de E-enneville, came running into my 
 chamber. 4 Ah !’ she exclaimed, ‘ I have good news 
 for you. A sweet-looking young lady from Eng- 
 land has just been overturned in her coach at the 
 gate of our convent.’ — ‘ And do you rejoice,’ asked 
 I, ‘ that a young lady has had a misfortune ?’ — ‘ No, 
 you know better. I was going to tell you that our 
 lady abbess has received the stranger very courte- 
 ously, and has invited her to stop until her coach 
 be repaired. 
 
 Scarcely had she given me this information, 
 when we were summoned to dinner. O heavens ! 
 what a shock I received, when, on entering the re- 
 fectory, I saw my inveterate enemy, the Honour- 
 able Miss Lambe. I uttered an involuntary scream. 
 St. Agnes caught me in her arms, and led me back 
 to my chamber. I apprehended that the captain 
 was killed, and that his sister had come to upbraid 
 me as the cause of her brother’s death ; or it was 
 possible the earl had fallen, and that she intended 
 to laugh at my calamity. She showed her resent- 
 ment against me with great severity. She gave 
 them my history, my poor parentage, and repre- 
 sented every circumstance of my life in the blackest 
 colours. The abbess, piqued at being imposed 
 upon, assured Miss Lambe, that since I was a per- 
 son of such a dangerous description, and of such 
 mean extraction, she would soon expel me from the 
 house. 
 
 The amiable St. Agnes, terrified at my continual 
 faintings, employed all the care the tenderest 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 Ill 
 
 friendship oould devise on my behalf. ‘Take 
 courage, my dear,’ said she ; ‘ you will one day sur- 
 mount these difficulties. If you suffer yourself to 
 be thus cast down, the whole monastry will believe 
 all that the wicked creature has advanced. Still 
 you have this comfort, that you are generally be- 
 loved, and consequently she will find very little 
 credit.’ — ‘ Ah ! my dear friend,’ replied I, ‘ calumny 
 bears a great sway, and easily leaves a mark. And 
 her malignity may have injured me in the opinion 
 of my best friend, Lady Beckford. She has an- 
 swered none of my letters. ‘ Yes,’ continued I, 
 bursting into tears, ‘ and I shall perhaps be torn 
 from you. This very monastry, once so hateful, is 
 become the dearest object of my wishes, through 
 the friendship with which you honour me.’ 
 
 St. Agnes shed tears and was deeply affected 
 with what I said ; and just then the abbess sent 
 for me. I followed the nun who came for me. The 
 abbess was surrounded by several nuns, who talk- 
 ed to her with great vehemence. ‘ Come hither, 
 miss,’ said the abbess, ‘ pray inform me what rea- 
 son Lady Beckford could have for deceiving me, 
 and passing you upon me for her relation. Had 
 she thought fit to have trusted me with a secret, it 
 might have been of service to you ; especially as I 
 am sensible of the obligations I have to that lady. 
 You seem to be much in her favour : her admitting 
 a country girl into her confidence is certainly a 
 proof. You seem a little confounded : but take 
 courage ; you come too well recommended to have 
 the least reason to fear any ill usage from me. Tell 
 the truth; for that alone can entitle you to an 
 abode here.’ 
 
 This harangue lasted a considerable time, through 
 her want of breath. I had an opportunity to re- 
 flect how I should behave ; and I determined not 
 to explain myself till I heard from Lady Beckford. 
 I answered, that my dear patroness, Lady Beck- 
 ford, was too honourable to impose upon any one ; 
 that I knew Miss Lambe, and the little favour I 
 
112 rosina; or, 
 
 could expect at her hands ; but as to the character 
 she had bestowed on me, it was a mystery I could 
 not unravel ; that I had nothing more to say, but 
 was ready to return, if it should be required. The 
 abbess, surprised to see me so resolute, then made 
 a sign for me to retire, which I did, and repaired to 
 my cell, where I found St. Agnes waiting for me. 
 She was in tears, and it was my turn to comfort 
 her. The fear that I should be sent away, and the 
 fear of losing so intimate a friend, alarmed her 
 cruelly. 
 
 In a few days, the lady abbess received a letter 
 from Lady Beckford, containing explanations which 
 she said were perfectly satisfactory. I received 
 also a short note, in which her ladyship assured me 
 of her continued friendship and protection, express- 
 ed her pity of the spiteful Miss Lambe, and con- 
 cluded by merely stating that Georgiana was no 
 better. After this, I appeared amongst the aged nuns 
 with more confidence ; but still some of them treated 
 me with a certain haughtiness. St. Agnes was my 
 counsellor and friend ; and the innocent and lively 
 De Renneville was always at my side, cheering my 
 spirits by her wit and vivacity. 
 
 About a fortnight passed without any thing par- 
 ticular ; when one evening, while I was finishing a 
 drawing, a nun came to inform me that some 
 friends of mine were at the grate. Agitated and 
 surprised. I ran down to the abbess’s parlour, 
 when, to my infinite joy, I found myself in the 
 arms of Lady Beckford, and of my young friend 
 Georgiana. I could not speak— I could only weep. 
 Poor Georgiana never appeared so beautiful. Her 
 fine black eyes, her white transparent skin, and the 
 delicate vermillion that shaded her cheek, produced 
 an enchanting effect. But, alas! these flattering 
 appearances were only the signs of an insidious 
 disease, which had baffled the skill of the first phy- 
 sicians in England, and who had recommended 
 their patient to try the mild air of Italy. 
 
 Oh! how delighted I was when Lady Beckford 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 113 
 
 -said, * My good Rosina, you must prepare to ac- 
 company us to Paris.’ My heart bounded with 
 ioy, and I felt unable to express my thanks. The 
 lady abbess apologized for the alarm which the de- 
 clamations of the Honourable Miss Lambe had 
 caused, and said that she believed I would justify 
 the honour which her ladyship had done me. Lady 
 Beckford received all this with a cold, and rather 
 haughty air, merely observing that she was not 
 obliged to explain the motives of her conduct to 
 every busy body that chose to meddle with what 
 did not concern them. At last, the signal was 
 given, when the abbess conducted Lady Beckford 
 into the refectory, while I led G-eorgiana by the 
 hand. 
 
 I was pleased to observe the deep respect with 
 which my benefactress was received. Her large 
 aquiline nose imparted a kind of dignity to her 
 visage ; while her graceful carriage and polished 
 manners mingled love with respect. She ^treated 
 me with marked attention, in order to efface the 
 impressions which my enemy might have left upon 
 their minds. Early next morning, I took leave of 
 my friends, from whom I could not part without 
 regret. I promised to exert myself to the utmost 
 in order to restore St. Agnes to liberty. This dear 
 friend held me in her arms, and wept upon my 
 bosom. 
 
 When on the road, Lady Beckford told me that 
 my old lover, Mr. Fleming, could not be easy and 
 attend to his business as formerly. By some means, 
 he fell into the toils of Miss Fanny Honeyman, who 
 once figured on the boards of the King’s Theatre, 
 and afterwards lived under the protection of seve- 
 ral titled and rich noblemen. Fleming never once 
 suspected her virtue. After marriage, they retired 
 into the country; and Mrs. Fleming’s character 
 might have remained a secret, had not her un- 
 guarded conduct awakened him to a sense of his 
 wretched destiny. In his first transports, he raved 
 like a madman, beat her, and confined her, as he 
 
 H 
 
114 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 said, for life. However, his anger abated, and in 
 a short time he set her at liberty — quite another 
 woman. 
 
 Lady Beckford purposed to remain at Paris un- 
 til Sir William could join her. This short journey 
 had revived G-eorgiana, who appeared much better. 
 Yet I could not suppress a sigh when I thought of 
 the earl. Lady Beckford knew nothing of him. 
 He had last drawn upon Sir William at Turin. I 
 indulged the hope that he had returned to France ; 
 and my eyes, in all the theatres and places of pub- 
 lic exhibitions, were always wandering in search of 
 the dear object of my solitude. At last, I became 
 impatient at the delay of Sir William. I expected 
 that when he reached Paris, something would tran- 
 spire respecting the earl. 
 
 One evening, after supper, a carriage drove into 
 our yard, and a message was brought to Lady Beck- 
 ford, who requested the stranger to be conducted 
 up stairs. But guess my astonishment, when my 
 old friend Catharine entered, who was violently 
 torn from me by Captain Lambe. I read the con- 
 tents of a letter which she brought, directed to me. 
 It was from my old patroness, the Viscountess Ne- 
 ville, and dated from Ambert Castle, about seven 
 leagues from Paris. It informed me that strange 
 things had happened ; that her son was at the point 
 of death; and concluded by conjuring me to join 
 her immediately. Lady Beckford also received a 
 note, imploring her to permit me to accompany her 
 maid Catharine to Ambert Castle. 
 
 Lady Beckford, after a pause, rang the bell, and 
 ordered refreshments for Catharine. She then 
 rose, and beckoned me to follow her. She asked 
 me how I intended to act. 4 Alas ! madam/ I ex- 
 claimed, 4 1 am lost without your protection. This 
 is one of Captain Lambe’ s wicked inventions. He 
 only wants to have me in his power, to triumph in 
 my misery.’ — 4 Ah !’ replied Lady Beckford, 4 1 
 know more of this matter than you suppose. The 
 captain is in no condition at present to injure you, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 
 
 115 
 
 If lie were, the viscountess is too honourable to 
 second a scheme founded on treachery and base- 
 ness. She is in heart-breaking distress. Your 
 presence, she thinks, will be useful ; and I do not 
 see how you can refuse the request of your earliest 
 friend.’ — ‘ Say no more, my dear madam,’ said I, 
 interrupting her ; ‘ I obey.’ — ‘ Not me, I hope,’ she 
 observed, ‘but the dictates of your own heart. Go, 
 my good child, I will not lose sight of you, nor 
 withdraw my friendship and protection from you.’ 
 
 We immediately returned. My travelling trunk 
 was soon arranged ; and, after taking leave of Lady 
 Beckford, and the amiable Georgiana, I entered the 
 coach with Catherine. My heart would have died 
 within me, had I not been supported by Lady Beck- 
 ford’s assurance of my perfect safety, arising from 
 some particular intelligence which she had received. 
 Catherine appeared pleased at seeing me again. 
 
 When we had got into the open country, I turned 
 to my companion, and said, ‘ Catherine, we were 
 once friends, and I know of nothing that should 
 have diminished this feeling.’ — ‘ Nor I,’ replied she, 
 ‘ though you have grown so much like a fine lady, 
 that I dare not use my former freedom with you.* 
 ‘ Nonsense,’ said I, ‘ my appearance may have been 
 altered a little, but my heart remains the same ; 
 and I know that Catherine will not be so cruel as 
 to conceal from me what has happened.’ — ‘Alas!’ 
 replied she, ‘ I wish I had nothing to tell you ; but 
 I love you too well, dear Rosina, to hide any thing 
 from you. I’ll lay you a wager, you cannot guess 
 on whose account you were sent for.’ — ‘ Why, I am 
 going to Ambert Castle,’ said I, ‘ in consequence of 
 the invitation of the Viscountess Neville.’ — ‘ Aye, 
 but her ladyship made this request,’ said Catherine, 
 ‘ because of the earnest prayers of the Honourable 
 William Lambe. He lies dangerously ill, and a 
 sincere penitent. Nothing will content him but a 
 sight of you, whom he confesses to have injured; 
 but knowing the aversion his sister has against you, 
 he has made her promise to receive you kindly.’ — 
 
116 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 4 Oh ! I know her well,’ replied 1 : 1 but what am I 
 required to do ? Could not the sick man have 
 written his sentiments ? Is there some new sacri- 
 fice required of me ?’— ■ ‘ You overwhelm me with 
 questions,’ said Catherine, ‘ to which I can give no 
 satisfactory answers without mentioning somebody 
 that I am strictly enjoined not to name. Saying 
 this, she peeped into my face and smiled. ‘ Well, 
 well,’ she continued, ‘ I must trust to your discre- 
 tion, for I cannot withhold that which I know will 
 increase your happiness. 
 
 ‘ When the mad captain pursued you to the con- 
 tinent, he wrote from Brussels to his mother, that 
 he had most solemnly sworn by his honour to have 
 you, and that neither bankers, nor lords, nor priests, 
 nor convent-walls, should protect you. Fortun- 
 ately his information was incorrect, and he ram- 
 bled through Germany ; while the earl proceeded 
 to the south of France, where he understood the cap- 
 tain had gone. At last, Miss Larnbe discovered 
 the place of your retreat, and immediately inform- 
 ed her brother of the name of your convent. 
 
 4 The captain drove furiously into Luneville, just 
 as the postmaster was directing horses to be put 
 into two carriages ; but our young master, mad 
 with liquor, forbade the servants to obey, and in- 
 sisted that the horses should be put into his car- 
 riage, which the post-master refused. An elderly 
 gentleman from the window observed, that he had 
 ordered the horses, and that no person should im- 
 pose upon him. A few hasty words passed, when 
 the old gentleman and his servants appeared to 
 support the post-master. A riot instantly ensued. 
 Lambe’s servants drove all before them ; while he 
 himself with one blow of his fist, felled the old 
 gentleman to the ground. Then a voice exclaim- 
 ed, 4 Coward !— villain ! — draw!’ and, on looking 
 round, the Earl of Lemington stood before him 
 with his sword drawn. The captain’s sword flew 
 out of the scabbard. They fought.’ Here I shud- 
 dered, and uttered a low involuntary scream. Ca 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID# 117 
 
 therine caught me in her arms, saying, 4 Do not 
 fear. The earl is alive and well. He will soon tell 
 you of this adventure himself. 
 
 4 It appears that the Earl of Glenf ord had called 
 upon Sir William Beckford, and expressed his dis- 
 pleasure at his nephew’s conduct in such strong 
 terms, that Sir William thought it his duty to in- 
 form this young nobleman of the great risk he had 
 incurred. He also informed him that you were 
 well, and safe in the north of France. When this 
 letter reached the earl, he was descending the 
 Bhine, in search of Captain Lambe. At Barr, he 
 Was informed by an English merchant, that the 
 captain had passed, on his road to France, about 
 two hours before that time. The earl immediately 
 pursued, and overtook him at the critical moment 
 which I have just described. 
 
 4 Next morning, the officers attended to investi- 
 gate this affair in the captain’s room, as he was too 
 ill to be removed. But, O what a scene occurred 
 here ! The old gentleman, on entering the room, 
 burst into tears, exclaiming, in broken accents, 
 ‘ And is it you, William, my son?’ The captain 
 started up, stared wildly upon the stranger, uttered 
 a groan, and sunk again upon his pillow. It was 
 his excellency the Viscount Neville, who had quit- 
 ted Dresden, and was then on his road to England. 
 The earl supported the viscount to a chair, and 
 handed him a glass.of water. He had three ribs 
 broken, and a severe cut on his head, by the fall 
 he received. As for the earl, he was wounded 
 very slightly in three places. 
 
 ‘After a short pause, the viscount approached 
 his unfortunate son, when a most touching scene 
 took place. The captain confessed and lamented 
 his madness and folly ; he shuddered at the horrid 
 crime he had nearly committed; he condemned 
 himself for deserting his duty to his king and 
 country, in order to pursue a defenceless and inno- 
 cent girl ; he earnestly begged the earl’s pardon for 
 the injury he had done him. 
 
118 ROSIN A \ OR, 
 
 ‘ When the officers learned the names and dignity 
 of their prisoners, they liberated them all, on an 
 assurance from the earl that he would satisfy the 
 post-master. Here this kind, good-hearted young 
 nobleman remained nine days, nursing his late in- 
 veterate enemy, whose wounds, and the fever that 
 ensued, rendered his life very precarious. When 
 his mother, the viscountess, heard of what had hap- 
 pened, she immediately left London to see her un- 
 fortunate son. 
 
 ‘ In the mean time, Captain Lambe was removed 
 by his father to Ambert Castle, which belongs to a 
 very particular friend of his. As soon as the vis- 
 countess arrived, her husband and the earl set off 
 for Paris, on particular business as it is said. I 
 know nothing of the nature of this business, except 
 it be to endeavour to get poor Mr. Lambe restored 
 to his rank ; for his mother brought intelligence 
 that bis name had been struck off the list of cap- 
 tains of the navy. 
 
 ‘ The Honourable Miss Lambe, on her first inter- 
 view with her brother, not knowing the revolution 
 that had taken place in his mind, told him exult- 
 iugly how she had ruined your credit and charac- 
 ter in your convent. After this, he never ceased 
 to beg that you might be sent for, that in every 
 way in his power he might do justice to you. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A S we approached the Castle ’of Ambert, I tried 
 to summon courage to perform my part with 
 propriety in the scenes I anticipated. Early in the 
 morning, the postillion soon whirled us into the 
 inner court of the castle. I was led into the vis- 
 countess closet. Here I waited with such an op- 
 pression of spirits, as is not to be expressed. 
 
 ‘ You are come then, my poor Rosina,’ said her 
 ladyship ; ‘ in truth your lot is very unfortunate. I 
 wish, with all my heart, I had never known you. 
 I know you are a good girl, and have neither de- 
 served what you have suffered, nor conduced to the 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 119 
 
 Unhappy adventures that have occurred ; but still 
 misfortunes seemed to attend all those who have 
 concerned themselves with your fortune.’ I an- 
 swered with tears, in which her ladyship joined. I 
 said, ‘ Ah ! madam, I am unworthy of all your 
 kindness. Abandon me to my fate. Permit me to 
 retire to my native village, and hide myself from 
 the world.’ — ‘We will think of it,’ said the vis- 
 countess ; ‘ stay here. I will inquire of my son 
 when he is disposed to see you. His sister, as per- 
 haps Catherine informed you, opposed your intro- 
 duction here. There exists some ill-will between 
 you, the cause of which I do not understand. She 
 loves her brother tenderly, and his will prevailed. 
 She has asked his pardon with tears, so you may be 
 certain of her civility and kindness. 
 
 Miss Lambe now appeared. On seeing me, she 
 grew pale ; but she had more courage than I, and 
 advanced first. ‘ Can you forgive me, my dear Ito- 
 sina,’ said she embracing me, all the trouble I have 
 caused you ? But I know you are too good to har- 
 bour resentment in your breast. The fear of what 
 has now occurred gave rise to my dislike to you ; 
 but the noble sentiments expressed by my excellent 
 brother have extinguished it. Come then, your 
 presence may perhaps contribute to his recovery.’ 
 
 Miss Lambe’ s behaviour moved me to compas 
 sion. I followed her to her brother’s apartment. 
 On entering, she said, ‘Here is our dear friend Ro- 
 sina.’ A faint voice replied, ‘ is she P Let me see 
 her, and obtain her forgiveness, and I die content.’ 
 Drawing near to him, though not without fear, he 
 stretched out his hand, and clasped mine. His 
 agonizing voice and death-like countenance affect- 
 ed me deeply. 
 
 ‘ Can you forgive me,’ said he, ‘ for my criminal 
 passion towards you, and for all the vexations I 
 have caused you ? Can you look without horror 
 upon one who had impiously sworn to violate your 
 chastity? Can you endure the frantic man who 
 was determined to drive out of the world one of the 
 
120 rosin a; or, 
 
 noblest fellows living, because he loved you T * 0? 
 yes !’ I sobbed out, ‘ I can — I do pardon you, and 
 will fervently pray for you.’— 4 Enough,’ he said, 
 1 you are an angel of light. I can now die content ; 
 but if it should please God to restore me to health, 
 be assured that in me you have a tender friend., 
 My dear sister,’ looking at Miss Lambe, 4 endea- 
 vour to make Kosina happy.’ — 4 Never fear,’ replied 
 she, 4 Kosina is too good to feel unhappy ;* on 
 which she kissed me. He gently squeezed my 
 hand, and then embraced his sister, who was bathed 
 in tears. 
 
 Next morning, the fever having left him, the 
 Honourable Mr. Lambe was declared out of dan- 
 ger. This news was received with joy, in which I 
 participated. His sister showed me the warmest 
 friendship, and at dinner openly declared, that, if 
 her brother recovered, she should be obliged to me 
 alone, after God, for his life. The viscountess also 
 treated me as a daughter ;• and I felt uncommonly 
 pleased and cheerful. Mr. Lambe recovered sur- 
 prisingly, professing the highest sentiments of hon- 
 our and probity. He showed himself entirely free 
 from the passion he had conceived for me ; but 
 there hung upon him a deep melancholy, and he 
 seemed full of some important design. I could not 
 help being struck at his serious air, and began to 
 fear that he was meditating some new enterprise. 
 
 One day, while I was writing to my friend St. 
 Agnes, Miss Lambe bolted into the room like a mad 
 woman, crying out that I was the cause of all the 
 misfortunes of her family, but that she would be 
 revenged. The viscountess followed her and said, 
 ‘ You had better use these expressions in your bro-- 
 ther’s presence.’ The young lady was immediately 
 softened ; she reflected for a while, then came and 
 asked my pardon, excusing her violence by the agi- 
 tation caused by her brother’s strange conduct, 
 who had refused a valuable office which had just 
 been offered him by a relative in the ministry. 
 
 Two days after this, I received a letter from 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 121 
 
 Lady Beckford. She informed me that Sir Wil- 
 liam had arrived, and that they would set out for 
 Italy immediately. She begged me to accompany 
 them to Italy, for Georgiana would be inconsolable 
 if I did not join them. She directed me to take a 
 seat in the Diligence to Dijon, where, on a certain 
 day she named, they also would arrive. The vis- 
 countess came in the evening, when I presented 
 her with Lady Beckford’ s note, and my own letter 
 open. On returning my letter, she said, ‘ Well, my 
 dear, you are at your own disposal;’ and then 
 quitted the room, to inform her son as 1 supposed. 
 
 In the mornin g, we breakfasted together in si- 
 lence. Then the Honourable Mr. Lambe said, ‘ I 
 am to lose, it seems, my charming and tender 
 nurse.’ I felt uneasy at this expression, blushed, 
 and hung down my head. He added, ‘ Wherever 
 you go, may the choicest blessings of heaven attend 
 you !’ And presenting me with a sealed packet, he 
 said, ‘This contains a transfer of two thousand 
 pounds stock in the five per cents. It will, at least, 
 be a means of preserving you from want, or it will 
 enable you to do some good. It is part of a legacy 
 left me by a relation, and therefore cannot injure 
 my family.’ Seeing me hesitate to accept of it, he 
 said with energy, ‘ Nay, if you refuse, you will ren- 
 der me wretched. I shall conclude that you still 
 hate and dread me. You will also incur the dis- 
 pleasure of your godmother, [the viscountess nod- 
 ded assent,] and of my sister here, who approves 
 of my conduct in this instance, and who has pro- 
 mised to add to this present, so unequal to your 
 merits. Is not that true, dear sister ?’ cried he, 
 stretching forth his hand. She kissed it, saying, 
 ‘ You know, my dear William, that I cannot but 
 love what you love.’ 
 
 The servant came to say the Diligence was ready 
 to start, when I took my farewell of this family. 
 The viscountess touched my cheek slightly, with 
 that mixture of dignity and condescension that ex- 
 pressed ihe value of the favour she bestowed. Hei 
 
122 rosinaj or, 
 
 daughter kissed me with ardour ; but Mr, Lambe, 
 without lifting his eyes, took hold of my hand, 
 touched it with his warm lips, and, dropping a 
 single tear, instantly stepped back, as if afraid to 
 commit himself. 
 
 There can be no company found in any country 
 so agreeable in travelling as in France. The beauty 
 and fertility of the country greatly pleased me. 
 
 As night advanced, I wrapped my garment 
 around me, and asked myself, ‘ Where is the earl ? 
 He must have known that Lady Beckford had ar- 
 rived in Paris. Why, then, did he not wait upon 
 her ? Why has he never written ? But I have 
 done nothing to forfeit his esteem, nor will I do 
 any thing to regain what I ought not to have lost.’ 
 
 On arriving at Dijon, I found Sir William Beck- 
 ford’s footman waiting to conduct me to his mas- 
 ter’s residence. I was received in the kindest man- 
 ner, and felt myself secure and happy. After 
 dinner, I related all the strange circumstances that 
 had occurred at Ambert Castle. ‘ His excellency 
 the viscount and the Earl of Lemington,’ I said, 
 ‘ left Ambert Castle for Paris yesterday after the 
 viscountess’ arrival.’ — ‘ Yes,’ observed Sir William, 
 ‘ and proceeded without delay to England.’ This 
 sentence contained all the information that I could 
 procure respecting his lordship for a considerable 
 time. 
 
 Next day we proceeded to Lyons. On ascending 
 the high hills on the north, an extensive, varied, 
 and beautiful prospect of hills, valleys, and vine- 
 yards, opened to the view, and presented one con- 
 tinued scene of richness and beauty. The city it- 
 self is most beautifully picturesque, and the sur- 
 rounding houses and chateaux, interspersed with 
 gardens, impart a great degree of magnificence to 
 the view, which is not easily to be paralleled. We 
 set out for Turin in high spirits. The lofty ridges 
 of Savoy present a combination of what is most 
 terrific and beautiful in nature : — precipices, rocks, 
 cascades, forests, vineyards, all appear as if thrown 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 123 
 
 into wild disorder by some mighty convulsion of na- 
 ture. In crossing Mount Cenis, we suffered severely 
 from the cold ; but the delight and enthusiasm 
 which the amiable Georgiana cherished for the sub- 
 lime in nature, gave her spirits and courage to de- 
 spise the fatigue and dangers we experienced. 
 
 Our journey along the plain from Rivoli to Tu- 
 rin was most delightful. We did not remain long 
 in the capital of Sardinia. The air felt humid and 
 unwholesome. We therefore continued our route 
 to Genoa. Sir William drove to the house of the 
 English consul, under whose hospitable roof we re- 
 mained two months ; when a vessel being ready to 
 sail for Leghorn, Sir William chose that mode of 
 entering Italy, as the least dangerous and fatiguing. 
 
 After a short and pleasant voyage, we landed at 
 Leghorn. From this gay and bustling city, we pro- 
 ceeded by way of Pisa to Rome. The clear sky, 
 the balmy air, the beautiful hills, and the delicious 
 fruits of Italy, gave rise to such feelings of gratifi- 
 cation, that I resolved, if ever I had a retreat to 
 seek from the turbulent scenes of this life, this 
 should be my country. It was impossible to avoid 
 reflections of the most interesting and melancholy 
 description, on entering a place which had been 
 the scene of such glories, and such crimes. We oc- 
 cupied a residence in the suburbs. Here we took 
 possession of a fine palace, which our English ser- 
 vants contrived to clean, and to render comfort- 
 able. 
 
 We examined the monuments of antiquity, the 
 fine pictures that abound, and the modern buildings 
 that evince such depravity of taste ; I read the im- 
 mortal works of the ancient Roman philosophers, 
 historians, and poets ; and the expansion of mind 
 which I received influenced my future ideas and 
 conduct. 
 
 We next visited the fine city of Naples. Sir 
 William cherished contempt for the Italians. Their 
 noise, frivolity, and nasty habits, confirmed his dis- 
 like. He had also a contemptible idea of their 
 
124 rosina;or, 
 
 courage, and imagined that the very name of as 
 Englishman imparted terror and respect. 
 
 We proceeded from Rome on the Appian way, 
 and drove along the Pomptine marshes with great 
 rapidity. ‘ These postillions,’ observed Sir William, 
 ‘drive like devils. We have had no such lively 
 fellows since we landed on the continent. But the 
 dogs know they have an English Signor to deal 
 with.* Scarcely had he uttered these words-, before 
 a gun was fired. A loud scream followed, and 
 which was accompanied by a kind of running fire. 
 The night was dark ; but the moon was' just rising. 
 Sir William leaped out of the carriage, with a pistol 
 in each hand. 
 
 On looking forward, I saw the flashing of fire- 
 arms, and heard the clashing of swords, with loud 
 and terrific shouts ; but in a moment I was seized 
 by two ruffians, who lifted me from the ground, 
 and hurried me along. Yet I did not scream— I 
 did not struggle— for I was petrified with fear and 
 horror, and had lost all power of motion. My eyes 
 were open, but I saw nothing— a kind of stupor 
 prevailed over all my faculties — and when I re- 
 gained my senses, I was lying on the ground, and 
 the two robbers conversing in an under tone with 
 great earnestness. 
 
 When I had recovered, they signed to me to arise. 
 I obeyed, and was conducted up the country. 1 
 had now time to examine my companions, who 
 were half naked, but hung about with the instru- 
 ments of destruction. We continued our journey 
 over a very uneven country for about five English 
 miles, when we came to the foot of some rocks, 
 amongst which we winded our way with great dif- 
 ficulty. About the break of day, we landed upon 
 a small terrace, over which hung a high projecting 
 rock. I was pushed forward, and found myself in 
 an instant inclosed in darkness. I retreated a few 
 steps, when I came in contact with a door. I tried 
 in vain to open it, until at length the sound of foot- 
 steps induced me to desist, and to step aside. As 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 125 
 
 no person entered, I stretched my eyes to explore 
 this horrid place, but could only discover at some 
 distance the remains of a fire. 
 
 In a short time, the rays of light darted through 
 the chinks of the roof ; and with the refreshing 
 breeze of the morning, I felt my courage revive. I 
 then perceived something near me, that I was con- 
 vinced was a man. Terror almost stopped my 
 breath. I listened with anxiety; and the door 
 near me flew open, and a band of armed men rush- 
 ed in. These were followed by two men, with 
 drawn swords, leading in a fine tall young man, 
 who walked erect, and seemed, by his looks, to defy 
 the malice of his guards. Sir William, his lady, 
 and Georgiana followed ; when, with a scream of 
 delight, I rushed into the arms of my young friend, 
 whom her father was supporting. 
 
 We were ordered to the further end of the hovel, 
 which appeared to be a temporary erection. I 
 counted twenty-five men in this place, whose 
 scowling features and singular dress gave a fero- 
 city of appearance. A smart-looking man, with a 
 military air, now entered this cavern. His hat 
 was decorated with a plume, he wore a silk sash 
 across his shoulders, his belt contained two pistols 
 and a stiletto, and in his hand he carried a carbine. 
 
 Sir William darted upon the leader of the band a 
 look of stern defiance. ‘ I should have expected 
 more prudence,’ said the robber, ‘ from a man o£ 
 your years ; espcially as you had ladies under your 
 protection.’ — ‘ I do not regret my conduct,’ said Sir 
 William; ‘and, if the other fellows had supported 
 this young gentleman and me like men, we would 
 have beaten your whole troop.’ — ‘ What!’ said the 
 robber, ‘ are we cowards P Are we women ? Shall 
 a troop of forty free Italians, whose very name 
 carries terror into the centre of Rome and Naples, 
 fly at the sight of two Englishmen ?’ — ‘ Big talk to 
 prisoners,’ said the strange gentleman, in a distinct 
 tone of voice. The robber’s eyes flashed fire, and 
 he muttered between his teeth, ‘Silence! or ’ 
 
126 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 He said to Sir William, • I have lost five brave 
 fellows. Your ransom ought therefore to have 
 been five thousand pounds ; but I have sent to your 
 banker in Borne an offer to release you for one 
 thousand pounds. If the money be not paid within 
 an hour after sunrise, your doom is sealed. The 
 other knows his fate. The word of Giordano is 
 not idle wind.’ 
 
 I learned, that just as we were approaching 
 Terre del Tre Ponti, our postillion was shot ; and, 
 in a second after, one of the dragoons fell, when 
 the other three galloped off. The robbers now 
 jumped out of a trench, and ran towards the car- 
 riages. Sir William fired upon, and shot the first 
 one that approached; but, while presenting his 
 pistol at another, the captain felled him by a blow 
 on the head. The butler and footman resisted 
 manfully ; and, as the latter could not reach his 
 pistols in time, he fought with his fists. The car- 
 riages were cut into pieces in searching for hidden 
 treasures ; after which, the whole party marched 
 off. The chief expressed his disappointment at 
 finding so little spoil, in angry terms to Sir Wil- 
 liam ; and concluded by assuring him that his pre- 
 cautions were of no avail, for, before they parted, 
 his men should be satisfied. 
 
 A short time after the chief had departed, a gen- 
 teel, delicate looking man, of low stature, but 
 smartly dressed and well armed, entered the shed 
 in which we were confined, and ordered Captain 
 Boss to follow him. The captain had been slightly 
 wounded in the arm, which I had dressed, and was 
 then tying a ribbon around it. He therefore wait- 
 ed patiently until I had completed, what the rob- 
 ber called, my ‘ work of charity when the captain 
 thanked me, and walked out with his conductor. 
 We saw him no more. About twenty minutes af- 
 terwards, the same man reappeared, bringing with 
 him bread, milk, and some excellent fruit, and in a 
 polite manner invited us to eat. I gave him an 
 inquiring look, which he understood, and said, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 127 
 
 ‘ Oh ! fear not : your countryman is safe and un- 
 hurt.’ 
 
 As the day advanced, we were left nearly alone ; 
 hut could see, through a hole in the wall, the rob- 
 bers lying about amongst the thickets. Sir Wil- 
 liam felt deeply ; but he struggled to conceal his 
 apprehensions from his wife and daughter. Lady 
 Beckford merely expressed a wish to die with her 
 husband, and her resolution not to be torn from 
 him. 
 
 A little after noon, the lieutenant returned, bring- 
 ing refreshments. While we ate, he lay on the 
 ground, and chatted freely. I asked him how a 
 person of his benevolent appearance could embrace 
 so cruel a profession. 4 Ah ! fair lady,’ said he, ‘ I 
 am controlled by fate — not directed by will. A 
 Neapolitan nobleman robbed me of my patrimony, 
 and ravished from me the delight of my eyes. The 
 knot that bound me to society being thus rudely 
 cut, I devoted myself to revenge. It does not be- 
 come a man, when insulted and robbed, to skulk 
 quietly into the grave. It is more honourable to 
 hurl back defiance upon them.’ — ‘But the law is 
 open,’ I said.— ‘The law!’ he exclaimed with a 
 laugh, ‘ the law is a mere engine of oppression, set 
 up by the rich and powerful, and which, to dis- 
 cerning eyes, only renders their robberies more in- 
 tolerable.’ — ‘ I am sorry,’ continued I, ‘ that you 
 have been ill used ; but we are strangers, and never 
 harmed you.’ — ‘ That may be,’ said the robber, ‘for 
 wherever the social contract is violated, the inno- 
 cent are sure to suffer with the guilty. We have 
 all wrongs to revenge. Our captain, like myself, 
 was chased from the haunts of men ; and here we 
 have been hunted like wild beasts. Formerly, 
 every lady whom we captured became a prize 
 which was disposed of by lot. The man who pro- 
 cured the lot enjoyed her person until her life was 
 ransomed. Your fate, however, has been softened 
 into mercy and gentleness. Now seeing that this 
 officer was becoming indelicate, bold, and confi- 
 
128 rosina ; or, 
 
 dent, I checked myself, and refused to reply to his 
 interrogations. 
 
 We spent the night in the greatest agony. The 
 awful sentence of death, pronounced by the cap- 
 tain upon Sir William, if his ransom was not paid 
 at the stipulated time — the certainty that we should 
 also become the prey of the ruffian crew — were re- 
 flections sufficient to torture our minds into mad- 
 ness. At length, the day appeared, and a robber 
 entering, desired us to follow him. We did so.. 
 G-eorgiana and I kissed each other, and then em- 
 braced Lady Beckford, who, taking Sir William’s 
 arm, walked out before us. 
 
 When we stepped without the door, the first ob- 
 ject I beheld was a man, uttering the most piercing 
 screams, and struggling while two stout fellows 
 were dragging him along. ‘Take him from the 
 sight of the ladies,’ said the captain ; and turning 
 to the lieutenant, he added, ‘ Do your duty.’ This 
 was answered by a nod and a smile ; and I saw 
 this man walk off to commit murder with a sang 
 froid that made me shudder. A few seconds only 
 passed, when I heard a shot, and the piercing cries 
 of the poor sufferer instantly ceased. I grew sick 
 and giddy, and looked around for support. Lady 
 Beckford, without speaking, took my arm, and 
 prevented me from falling. The lieutenant imme- 
 diately returned with an unconcerned air. ‘ And 
 this,’ said I to myself, ‘ is the man whose benevo- 
 lent countenance interested me. How little ought 
 we to judge from appearances ?’ 
 
 ‘Your ransom has been paid, Signor,’ said the 
 captain, ‘ and you are free.’ Oh ! how the life- 
 giving words thrilled through my heart ! I looked 
 around, and Lady Beckford held her husband in 
 her arms, while G-eorgiana kissed his hand. I now 
 breathed freely, and inwardly ejaculated a prayer 
 of thanksgiving for our deliverance. 
 
 We were conducted down the difficult and dan- 
 gerous passes of this rocky eminence by two tall, 
 military-like men, who conversed freely with Sir 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 129 
 
 William. They observed that the lieutenant, 
 though brave, was the cruellest fellow in the troop ; 
 I remembered his keen looks — his self-confident 
 advances — his indelicate motions — his apparent 
 readiness to seize and carry me off. I had then 
 felt a strong presentiment of my danger. 
 
 We asked who the man was who had just been 
 murdered, and what crime he had committed. 4 Oh !’ 
 said one of our guides, 4 it was only a Jew dog be- 
 longing to Naples, who preferred his money to his 
 life. We asked but two thousand crowns, which 
 his wife either refused to send, or else our messen- 
 ger has been intercepted.’ — 4 What a horrid coun- 
 try !’ I muttered to myself : 4 What can have ren- 
 dered the government of this beautiful land so 
 weak or so wicked as to permit of such atrocious 
 acts being committed ?’ 
 
 After approaching within a mile of Torre del Tre 
 Ponti, the robbers took their leave, and we entered 
 the place alone. Here we were surprised to find 
 both our butler and footman. The robbers, who 
 knew they were servants, ordered them to return, 
 and not to look behind them. They obeyed, and 
 carried tidings of the robbery before the courier who 
 carried the demand for ransom money arrived. 
 The governor of Rome exprsssed great indignation 
 at the outrage, and threatened to exterminate the 
 offenders. Our servants hired carriages and set off 
 to meet us. After taking some refreshment, we 
 again set off on our way to Naples. 
 
 Georgiana never expected that her father’s life 
 would have been spared by the barbarians, but she 
 had resolved not to survive him ; and, as she fear- 
 ed violation, she had kept her pen-knife ready, with 
 which she was determined to destroy, if possible, 
 both her brutal ravisher and herself. But now 
 that we were again secure from danger, this high 
 tone of mind relaxed, and she became alarmingly 
 
 We occupied a pleasant house that overlooked 
 the beautiful bay of Naples ; and we were congra- 
 
 I 
 
1 3!) hosina; or, 
 
 tulated on our safe arrival by several English ladies 
 and gentlemen. We declined all the kind invita- 
 tions we received from many distinguished families, 
 never went abroad, but attended the sick-chamber 
 of Georgiana, who declined rapidly. 
 
 At length, the best physicians in Naples gave up 
 all hopes of Georgiana’s recovery. She was op- 
 pressed by the sulphureous air of this place ; but 
 she was too weak to be removed. But her sweet- 
 ness of temper and cheerfulness inspired us with 
 hope. One fine morning, she beckoned to me, and 
 she said, ‘ Sit down, my dear, beside me, and read 
 the sublime opening of Milton’s poem of Paradise 
 Lost. I began to read in a low tone of voice, while 
 she grasped my hand, to express her feeling of the 
 beauties of the different passages. Finding her 
 grasp relaxing, and her hand growing cold, I look- 
 ed in her face; a smile of complacency played 
 about her lips, but her eyes were fixed. I started 
 up, my heart palpitated with affright, I stared 
 wildly upon Sir William and his lady, who ran to 
 the bed, and beheld their amiable and accomplish- 
 ed daughter a corpse ! 
 
 I shall pass over the scenes of sorrow and intense 
 grief that followed. After the funeral, my worthy 
 friends showed me, if possible, still more kindness and 
 attention. They insisted upon my visiting the princi- 
 pal churches, the king’s garden, delightfully seated 
 near sea, and the chief theatre, said to be the most 
 magnificent in Europe. But I could enj oy nothing in 
 a place where I had lost such an inestimable friend ; 
 while the half naked, ragged, nasty Lazaroni ; the 
 ugly and bold women, with their frizzed bundles 
 of hair; and the lazy, noisy inhabitants, which 
 were continually before our eyes, quite disgusted 
 me. Here I have seen the gayest ladies, with offi- 
 cers dressed in the most magnificent manner, driv- 
 ing in gilded carnages along the Strada Toledo, 
 whose coachmen and postillions exhibited the ex- 
 treme of wretchedness ; and these degraded crea- 
 tures, when their vehicle stopped, were sure to em- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 131 
 
 ploy their time in attacking the vermin that occu- 
 pied their rags ! Altogether I felt disgusted with 
 the incomparable city of Naples, and left it, and 
 arrived safely in Borne. 
 
 The attractions of this city detained ns for some 
 weeks. Sir William, who had a taste for the fine 
 arts, felt a strong interest in visiting the studies and 
 exhibitions of the best artists ; and Lady Beckford, 
 in order to divert his melancholy, encouraged this 
 disposition. 
 
 At last, we quitted this interesting city ; and pro- 
 ceeded along the Adriatic to Bimini. A t this place, 
 and at Bologna and Padua, we halted for a few 
 days. After a very pleasant journey, we entered 
 the far-famed Venice. When we first perceived 
 the numerous turrets, towers, and steeples of this 
 city, tipped with the golden rays of the setting sun, 
 I promised myself a new and pleasing sight ; and 
 the result exceeded my highest anticipations. 
 
 Then we removed to Milan, where I enjoyed the 
 most lively and intelligent company, and formed 
 friendly connexions that have continued to the 
 present day. I will not detail all the dangers we 
 experienced in passing the Simplon, as so many 
 have described the grandeur and horrors of the 
 snowy regions of the Alps. But we arrived safely 
 at Geneva, from whence we looked back upon the 
 tremendous scenes we had safely passed. I went 
 one evening in the carriage to view the shelving 
 rocks, high mountains, and picturesque villages, 
 that environ the lake. The footman foolishly 
 mounted the coach-box, and took the reins from 
 the driver. In a few minutes, I saw that he was 
 passing along the extreme edge of a very deep 
 sloping bank. In rising to speak to the coachman, 
 I felt the coach going over, when I instantly sunk 
 to the bottom, gathered myself in a heap, and lay 
 until I became insensible. When I was recovered, 
 I found myself on the ground, supported by a 
 countryman, at the foot of the precipice, and close 
 to the water. He asked me if I was hurt ; but I 
 
132 rosina; or, 
 
 could make no reply. I felt stunned and amazed, 
 and some time elapsed before I could recollect my- 
 self. I then looked round, and saw the shattered 
 carriage lying beside me. * Oh ! where are the 
 servants ?’ I exclaimed. — ‘ Very safe,’ said the man, 
 
 ‘ for your driver has been taken with the horses, 
 seemingly unhurt by the fall, up to the road ; one 
 fell — but the other jumped nimbly down, and is 
 now sitting, I see, on the top of the bank.’ 
 
 The footman had jumped off the coach -box when 
 he found the coach going over, in doing which he 
 had broken his leg, and was sitting moaning with 
 pain. I engaged some men to carry him home, 
 while another was despatched for a surgeon. 
 
 Sir William and his lady expressed the greatest 
 joy at my fortunate escape, which appeared to be 
 almost miraculous. Lady Beckford appeared, when 
 at dinner, very much agitated. ‘I have just now 
 been pained,’ said she, ‘beyond expression; and 
 my feelings of compassion for the poor wretch that 
 lies up stairs in agony.’ — ‘ What — who do you 
 mean ?’ asked Sir William. ‘ Do you allude to Thomas, 
 our footman ?’ — ‘ The same,’ she said ; ‘ O how 
 can such wickedness dwell in the human breast P I 
 can scarcely believe that mine ears have heard the 
 shocking, the horrid, the inconceivable confession 
 of that bad man.’ — ‘ You distress me, my dear,’ said 
 Sir William ; ‘ pray be composed, and relate what 
 has happened.’ — ‘ Well,’ said she, ‘ I will try to re- 
 late what I have been told.’ 
 
 ‘ When the surgeon’s apprentice brought Thomas 
 some medicine this morning, he entreated the 
 young man to inform him what was thought of his 
 case. The lad told him that it was a very bad one ; 
 and that he feared a mortification had taken place, 
 which would soon terminate his existence. The 
 terrified wretch received this information with fear 
 and trembling ; and when the lad was gone, his 
 cries and groans were so loud and appalling, that I 
 went up to his chamber to inquire what had hap- 
 pened. As soon as I had entered his room, he hid 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 133 
 
 his head under the bed-clothes. I advanced to his 
 bedside, and inquired if he felt worse. 4 Oh !’ said 
 he, ‘ I am dying, nor do I deserve to live. I have 
 most cruelly injured you, my good mistress; and I 
 have, I fear, committed murder : for perhaps Miss 
 Beckford might yet have lived, had I not shortened 
 her days. As for Bosina, I have twice attempted 
 to murder her.’ He proceeded with great vehe- 
 mence to execrate both himself and Lady Lambe, 
 as he called her. When he had become more com- 
 posed, he stated that he had long ago been receiv- 
 ing presents from the Honourable Miss Lambe, 
 whom he informed of every transaction that hap- 
 pened in the family, especially what concerned Bo- 
 sina. He said that, the day before we quitted Paris, 
 he went in disguise to Ambert Castle, when Miss 
 Lambe gave him thirty guineas, with a promise of 
 fifty more, if he succeeded in putting Bosina out of 
 her way ! At Borne, he got acquainted with the 
 lieutenant of the banditti that robbed us, who did 
 him some favours, and to whom, in return, he gave 
 the information he wanted, and at the same time 
 presented him with ten louis d’ors, on promising 
 that Bosina should never be permitted to leave the 
 mountains. By putting the butler’s pistols out of 
 the way, and loading his own with powder only, 
 he facilitated the robbery. Baffled in his wicked 
 schemes in Italy, he had therefore contrived to over- 
 turn the coach, thinking it impossible that Bosina 
 could escape with her life. Finding his end ap- 
 proaching, he could not die, he said, without con- 
 fessing his wickedness, and warning Bosina to 
 beware of her implacable enemy, Miss Lambe.’ 
 
 I trembled at this narrative. Miss Lambe’ s kind- 
 ness to me, while she was plotting my destruction, 
 made her wickedness appear to me in the blackest 
 colours. 
 
 The surgeon declared that his patient was in no 
 danger ; and when we left Geneva, he was doing 
 well. Sir William presented him with a sum of 
 money above his wages, but threatened that if evex 
 
134 ROSINA; OPv, 
 
 he returned to England, he would cause him to he 
 tried for his wicked conspiracy. 
 
 Sir William Beckford, with his usual benevolence, 
 had taken a strong interest in the fate of St. Agnes ; 
 hut his exertions in her favour were interrupted by 
 our journey into Italy. But he had to meet a gen- 
 tleman that succeeded to his business at Brussels, 
 he determined to take Amiens in his way, and to 
 have a personal interview with the unhappy St. 
 Agnes. 
 
 Having stayed late one night with Lady Beck- 
 ford, I went to my chamber very uneasy, which 
 was not usual. Not knowing how to account for 
 my want of sleep, I bega'n to read, hoping that 
 might soothe me. But I was not able to close my 
 eyes, or change my posture : I was no sooner set- 
 tled on one side, than I tossed to the other. I re- 
 solved to rise, and was just getting up, when I 
 heard a knock at my door. I started up through 
 fright : It was then but dawn of day. My door 
 was strongly bolted, for I was very exact in these 
 precautions. But they redoubled their blows ; 
 and I asked what they wanted. Lady Beckford 
 answered, and bade me open the door. I 
 thought she was not alone, and that a man was 
 talking with her. I then unbolted the door, and 
 glided again into bed. 
 
 Lady Beckford carried in her hand a candle, by 
 the light of which I perceived a tall gentleman, 
 muffled up in a cloak. ‘ Really, madam,’ said he 
 to me, ‘ I am sorry to be obliged to disturb so lovely 
 a lady; but his majesty’s orders must be obeyed, 
 in whose name I arrest you. Bear not any cruel or 
 unmanly conduct : you are in good hands. Lady 
 Beckford threw herself upon my bed in a terrible 
 fright. 1 Ah ! Rosina,’ said she, ‘ how unhappy I 
 am that I cannot save you. But keep up your 
 spirits : Sir William will be back in two days, and 
 then it will be seen whether there be justice in 
 France. Our ambassador will surely inquire if the 
 French government intend to sport with the liberty 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 135 
 
 of every English person that enters this kingdom.’ 
 4 People of all nations,’ replied the gentleman coolly, 
 4 are amenable to the laws of the country which 
 they inhabit. All that the British ambassador can 
 reasonably request are, the grounds upon which 
 this Lettre de Cachet has been granted.’ — 4 Oh ! I 
 see the finger of Miss Lambe in this,’ I observed. 
 
 Her ladyship, taking me in her arms, protested 
 she would never abandon me, adding, 4 You are to be 
 sent to a convent, this officer says ; but all the cun- 
 ning of your enemies shall not hide you from my 
 eyes. This gentleman, I believe, will treat you 
 with tenderness, wherefore, my dear girl, take 
 courage, submit to necessity, and behave yourself 
 always with prudence. God will bless you, and 
 will make you triumphant.’ 4 Besides, Bosnia,’ 
 continued she, 4 consider that the more you suffer, 
 the more you will endear yourself to your lover. I 
 say no more ; you understand me. We must wait 
 God’s pleasure to accomplish the rest.’ 
 
 4 Yes,’ said I, 4 my conduct shall never make him 
 blush at the good opinion of me which he was once 
 pleased to express.’ I then began to prepare for 
 my departure. 
 
 When the officer re-appeared, he seemed sur- 
 prised at the serenity of my countenance. All 
 being ready, I embraced my dear protectress with 
 the greatest fondness, and tears attested the grief 
 that attended our separation. In giving me the 
 last adieu, Lady Beckford slipped her purse into 
 my hand. 
 
 When we were on the road, I observed my com- 
 panion looking at me very earnestly ; and, as the 
 sun rose, he put off the large cloak in which he had 
 been enveloped. I was struck with his appear- 
 ance. I was sure that I had seen his face before, 
 but when or where I could not recollect ; and I 
 was certain that he must know me. However, as 
 I was placed in a situation so peculiar and delicate, 
 I determined to be reserved and silent. 
 
 After breakfasting and changing horses, we re- 
 
138 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 entered the carriage, when the officer said, ‘ You 
 lately sent a parcel of letters, by a foreign gentle- 
 man, to a nun named St. Agnes, in a convent at 
 Amiens.’ — ‘ I did, sir,’ answered!, ‘ and what harm 
 could there be in corresponding with an old friend ?* 
 — 4 An improper correspondence,’ he observed, 4 is 
 always dangerous. The letters were sent by the 
 abbess to the police of Paris, and they contain 
 proof that you were conspiring to assist a nun in 
 violating her vows.’ 
 
 i The Honourable Captain Lambe,’ he continued, 
 1 an English naval officer, was by your cunning, led 
 into the most criminal excesses, and dismissed the 
 service ; by your artful caresses, he was persuaded 
 to give up to you all the property he possessed at 
 his own disposal. He has now taken holy orders, 
 in which he behaves like a foolish enthusiast, to 
 the great disgrace of his family, and to the high 
 displeasure of the gentleman in his parish. His 
 sister, who could not bear to witness his follies, has 
 returned to Paris. She is intimately acquainted 
 with the lieutenant of police, who has had his eye 
 over you ever since you entered within his juris- 
 diction. An English nobleman of great power and 
 influence, the Earl of Glenford, is now at Paris. He 
 has a nephew, the Earl of Lemington, [I started and 
 turned pale,] heir to his vast estates, and over whom 
 you also exercise the most despotic sway. His 
 lordship is immensely rich ; and he has sworn to 
 assist the Honourable Miss Lambe to remove you 
 from the busy theatre of the world, where your 
 beauty and your arts do so much mischief. Lady 
 Beckford talks nonsense, Sir William may have 
 powerful reasons for trying to recover you [I red- 
 dened with indignation at this vile insinuation] ; 
 but all his attempts will be defeated. You will be 
 placed beyond the knowledge and control even of 
 the French government and he hinted that Spain 
 was the place of my destination. 
 
 He continued : — ‘ I am not an Exempt , as you 
 suppose. I arrived in Paris but two days ago. J 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID, 137 
 
 found my noble relative, the Earl of Glenford, and 
 my young friend, the Honourable Miss Lambe, 
 highly exasperated against you ; and I was present 
 when they consulted with the lieutenant of police 
 on the best means of removing you. Being on my 
 way to join my brother at Montpellier, I obtained 
 leave to conduct you as far as that place, to deliver 
 you up to a French officer of justice. I have now 
 explained your present situation, and you see that 
 you are entirely at my disposal/ 
 
 He said I might bid an adieu to the pleasures of 
 life ; for I should be compelled, by fair or other 
 means, to become a nun. Still I remained silent ; 
 when he assumed a very familiar air, but was much 
 surprised to find himself taken up with a resolution 
 and politeness he little expected. 
 
 I desired, with an air which put him out of coun* 
 tenance, that he would not trouble me with any 
 more discourse of such a nature, but content him* 
 self with executing the commission he had under* 
 taken; for that I might be assured neither the 
 misfortunes with which I was threatened, nor the 
 deluding baits set before me, should ever prevail 
 upon me to deviate from a steady adherence to the 
 principles of virtue and honour. My companion 
 rallied me upon the oddness of my behaviour, dis- 
 played, though to no purpose, a more modish sys* 
 tern of morality ; and several times seemed in* 
 dined to be very free with me. I defeated his at* 
 tacks, and made him sensible how unworthy a part 
 he acted for a well-bred man, in trying by the 
 authority chance had put into his hands, to seduce 
 a young creature, left without any defence but the 
 resources her own mind could afford. Virtue sup* 
 plied me with so much eloquence on the occasion, 
 that this young gentleman, dangerous as he was, 
 and who that very evening could not prevail on 
 himself to leave my bedchamber, at last retired, 
 covered with confusion for having drawn upon him- . 
 self so many remonstrances, the solidity of which 
 he could not but acknowledge, and begging of m© 
 
138 rosina; or, 
 
 to forget tlie vexation he had caused, for which he 
 promised to make an ample satisfaction by a far 
 different conduct for the future. The next day, 
 my conductor became quite another man, and be- 
 haved with strict politeness, in which I thought 
 proper not to be behind-hand. He took up several 
 amusing subjects to divert me, as he said, upon my 
 journey. He seemed surprised at the knowledge 
 which I displayed, and once hinted that he expect- 
 ed to have found me a mere country girl, only 
 spoilt by affectation. In the afternoon, he viewed 
 me frequently with satisfaction, which often ended 
 with a sigh. I feared lest he should fall in love, 
 and prove another Captain Lambe. I turned pale 
 at the very thought. 
 
 My conductor perceived my uneasiness. ‘ Have 
 you a desire to halt, Rosina ?’ said he. 4 By your 
 countenance, I am afraid you are ill. Hoes the 
 journey fatigue you too much ? You seem buried 
 in thought, and under some uneasiness. I hope 
 you do not remember what passed when I had the 
 misfortune to incur your displeasure F Let me in- 
 treat it as a favour, that you deal sincerely with 
 one who is ready to do every thing that can possi- 
 bly contribute to make you easy, and will seek all 
 occasions of making amends for the affronts he 
 offered. 
 
 This apology, the cruel reflections which then 
 perplexed me, and the new convent with which I 
 was threatened, melted me into tears. ‘ This is too 
 much,’ cried my guard, ‘ your grief overwhelms me ; 
 I cannot bear it any longer. Notwithstanding a 
 thousand reasons for the contrary, a prevail- 
 ing motive attaches me, miss, to your interest; 
 so far, even, as not to comply with the injunc- 
 tions, which first brought us acquainted. Make 
 yourself easy ; whatever may be expected from me, 
 I cannot bear to do any thing which forces tears 
 from the finest eyes I ever beheld. You shall be 
 convinced how great an effect your charms have 
 on all those who approach you. Ho not blush at 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 139 
 
 the acknowledgement I make : it pleads an excuse 
 for my cousin’s passion, whose happiness I envy. 
 
 Nevertheless, whatever injustice you may show 
 in my regard, or treatment I may receive at your 
 hands, I must not regret my having undertaken 
 this commission, since it furnishes me with an op- 
 portunity of serving you. You shall know, my 
 pretty Rosina,’ continued he, ‘ that to say and to do 
 is the same thing with me.’ Saying this, he put 
 his head out of the window, and ordered the pos- 
 tillion to take the first road to the right. 
 
 This counter-order surprised me. I knew we 
 were within a short distance of the city of Tours ; 
 hut to where the road led that branched off to the 
 right I was entirely ignorant. But I resolved to 
 act throughout with firmness and caution, and not 
 to be seduced by the arts and kindness of my mys- 
 terious companion. 
 
 The gentleman then said, ‘ You don’t know me, 
 miss ?’ — ‘ I have not that honour,’ I replied.— 
 
 ‘ Have you no recollection of having seen this face 
 before ?’ I replied, ‘ I have a strong impression 
 upon my mind that I have seen you before, but 
 have no recollection of the time and place.’ — ‘ You 
 cannot have forgotten the Neapolitan banditti ?’ 
 he observed with a smile. — ‘ Good God !’I exclaim- 
 ed, ‘ you are the English officer that was torn from 
 our party, for the purpose of being murdered, as 
 we suspected. How glad I am that you escaped ! 
 Yes, I now remember you well.’ 
 
 ‘ My name is Ross,’ said he, ‘ and I bear a cap- 
 tain’s commission in his majesty’s service, A near 
 relation, a merchant at Leghorn, having died, I 
 became heir to his property, and had been in that 
 city eight months, disposing of his effects. Hav- 
 ing finished, I resolved to see Naples, and had 
 overtaken Sir William Beckford’s carriage about 
 ten minutes before the attack was made. Sir 
 William is a brave old fellow, and fought by my 
 side like a man. The captain of the band was a 
 man of honour in his profession, and I owe my life 
 
140 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 to his generosity. Without stopping at Naples, I 
 joined a friend who was going to Messina in Sicily, 
 from which place I embarked for England. I knew 
 Sir William, though I did not make myself known 
 to him, and was also acquainted with your history. 
 Your beauty made a strong impression upon me, 
 which even the powerful prejudices that X had im- 
 bibed against you could not overcome. I pitied 
 my poor cousin, the Earl of Lem:! ngton, as X con- 
 sidered you a very dangerous person.’ 
 
 ‘ Pray, Captain Ross,’ said I, ‘ what am I accused 
 of ? What have I done, that I should appear, in 
 the eyes of a stranger, in so monstrous a light ?’•— 
 ‘ Ah ! my dear girl,’ replied he, ‘ spare me the pain- 
 ful recital. I am now convinced that your accusers 
 are unjust, or have been imposed upon.’ 
 
 ‘We have both undeservedly received blows from 
 the same quarter,’ said I : ‘they will not, I hope, 
 fall again upon your head.’ I then related to him 
 the confession of Sir William’s servant at Geneva, 
 by which it appeared that even the Italian robbers 
 were instruments of vengeance in the hands of the 
 Honourable Miss Lambe. I also recapitulated all 
 the cruel persecutions I had suffered from this vin- 
 dictive lady, and hinted at the motives of her re- 
 venge. 
 
 Captain Ross upbraided himself for becoming an 
 agent to a wicked and artful woman. He begged 
 pardon for his rudeness to me, and said, ‘ My fu- 
 ture conduct shall prove the sincerity of my re- 
 pentance. We will proceed direct to Granville, 
 where we may obtain the means of quitting France. 
 I will not leave you until I see you comfortably 
 lodged in London, when you shall be left at liberty 
 to do as you please.’ 
 
 On entering the village where we were to dine, 
 we saw a crowd of people gathered about a young 
 female pilgrim, carrying an enormous cross, ‘ Good 
 God !’ cried I, ‘ how I pity that young creature, 
 and commiserate her unhappy condition ! Can you 
 inform me,’ said I to the landlady, ‘ what can be 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 141 
 
 the strict obligation this pilgrim must be under to 
 travel thus ?’ — 4 It is what nobody can account for/ 
 replied the person I spoke to : 4 all I know of the 
 matter is, that several of the inhabitants having 
 given her charity, she immediately distributed it to 
 the poor about her, which caused the acclamations 
 you still hear. 
 
 I now began to breathe freely ; and I anticipa- 
 ted with delight the pleasure I should feel on tread- 
 ing English ground, where the dread of convents 
 and Exempts could no longer torment me. But, 
 further, I was going to London, the abode of the 
 earl, and where I might very possibly see him. 
 How easily do the hopes of lovers revive! The 
 heart catches eagerly at the most remote hope that 
 has any connection with the object beloved. After 
 feasting my imagination on the most delicious 
 dreams, I recollected the purse that Lady Beckford 
 had given me, and which I now for the first time 
 examined. I was ashamed to observe the extent of 
 her bounty ; but I determined to conceal this, as it 
 might be wanted before I reached England. I also 
 found in the purse a small miniature picture of 
 Lady Beckford. This I pressed with transport to 
 my breast : and at this moment, whilst I am writ- 
 ing these Memoirs, my heart is moved at the re- 
 membrance of what then passed. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 L ADY BECKFORD’ S picture was still in my 
 hand, with my eyes and heart fixed upon it, when 
 I was surprised by Captain Ross leading in the pil- 
 grim. 4 Here, miss,’ said he, 4 is the lovely person 
 whose condition excited your curiosity and compas- 
 sion. I have told her that, though young, you also 
 have experienced many trials, and that you have 
 lived some time in a French convent. She has, 
 therefore, been pleased to permit me to have the 
 happiness of introducing her to you. 
 
 I had risen from my seat when the beautiful pil- 
 grim entered the room, and had embraced her very 
 
142 kOSINA^; OR, 
 
 tenderly; but what the captain related redoubled 
 my civilities to her, which she returned in a polite 
 manner, becoming a well-bred person. When din- 
 ner-time came, she was about to retire ; but I 
 pressed her so earnestly to dine with us, that she 
 consented to it, on condition of being left entirely 
 to her own management in point of eating. 
 
 While the captain was speaking to the pilgrim, I 
 examined with great attention her whole person. 
 She was a smart, brown woman, about twenty-two, 
 with large lively black eyes, and an engaging as- 
 pect. She had on a waistcoat of very fine cotton, 
 and a coarse red mantlet over her shoulders, adorn- 
 ed with shells. A rush hat, cocked boatways, and 
 lined with taffety, seemed more designed to set her 
 off than for use. She was tall and well made, -with 
 an easy carriage. The tan on her face showed she 
 had been for some time exposed to the inclemencies 
 of the weather ; but when her gloves were off, the 
 fineness of her complexion was very conspicuous. 
 
 Dinner was now brought in, and we sat down to 
 table ; when we saw, to our great surprise, some 
 coarse bread and water placed before the pilgrim. 
 This made us very pressing to engage her to eat 
 some soup with us, but in vain, she desiring to be 
 excused, on account that if she complied with our 
 request, her penance, by a law she had imposed on 
 herself, must last forty days longer ; otherwise, the 
 current day was the last, being on the morrow to 
 change her way of life to something more conform- 
 able to the rest of the world. When dinner was 
 done, the beautiful pilgrim and I resumed our con- 
 versation. 
 
 Captain Ross withdrew, having letters of import- 
 ance to write. Being thus left alone, our conver- 
 sation became more confidential ; and the fair pil- 
 grim favoured me with her history, as follows : — 
 THE BEAUTIFUL PILGRIM. 
 
 * I am the daughter of a very rich physician of Bour- 
 deaux, whose reputation was so great, that he was sent 
 for to all the towns round, and sometimes attended con- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 143 
 
 saltations in the capital. Being an only daughter, I re- 
 ceived an education suitable to the fortune designed for 
 me. The best masters were employed. The facility with 
 which I took my learning caused a favourable opinion of 
 my parts ; and the charms people fancied they saw in me, 
 soon attracted a crowd of ardent admirers. 
 
 * The desire my father had to see me married, and 
 which he often expressed when we were amongst our- 
 selves, caused my being continually importuned to make 
 a choice ; but the antipathy I had to matrimony was so 
 great, that I could not bear to hear it mentioned. The 
 prejudice was so strongly fixed in my mind, that one 
 day I declared to my father, who was using all his autho- 
 rity with me to accept of one whose pretensions he fa- 
 voured, and if he persisted in constraining my inclina- 
 tions, either a monastry or death itself should free me 
 from such importunities. This protestation was followed 
 by a torrent of tears ; and, as he doated on me, he pro- 
 mised that I should be left entirely at my own disposal. 
 
 * I was now turned nineteen, and had made a consider- 
 able progress in the arts, and in physic, which my father 
 taught me with pleasure, for he was charmed with the 
 disposition I had for it, and the ease with which I sur- 
 mounted all the difficulties of that science, he set no 
 bounds to his lectures ; my mernory, like a fruitful field, 
 yielded a plentiful harvest of whatever was sown in it ; 
 anatomy, botany, osteology, all were displayed and un- 
 derstood ; in fine, at twenty I was so far advanced in the 
 mysteries of Esculapius, that I wrote a treatise on physic 
 in Latin, which I dedicated to my father. The reputa- 
 tion I acquired by this work reached the most distant 
 countries, and filled my father with pride and joy. My 
 father received a letter from a learned professor of physic 
 at Oporto, stating the admiration he felt for the mind 
 that could produce a work so scientific and argumenta- 
 tive. He attributed my superior skill to the judicious 
 instructions of my father ; and therefore thought him the 
 properest person in the world to form an only son of his. 
 He begged earnestly he would undertake his medical edu- 
 cation. 
 
 ‘ My father was still anxious to see me married. He 
 concluded that by taking this boarder his design might be 
 effected. Under the pretext of leaving the care of his 
 studies to me, on account of his own age and infirmities, 
 the youth might have an opportunity of gaining my affec- 
 tions. Acting under this impression, he wrote to the 
 Oporto physician, accepting the offer of his son. 
 
 ‘ In a few weeks’ time he had the pleasure of a letter 
 
144 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 from the physician, with an account of his son being on 
 his journey. My father acquainted my mother and me 
 of his coming, but in an artful manner. In order to sur- 
 prise me, he told my mother, pretending not to see I 
 overheard him, that what he disliked was the young 
 man’s being very deformed and ugly ; he enlarged upon 
 the disgust which must necessarily arise from living with 
 such people, and that he would have gladly excused him- 
 self, but the person in question was so earnestly recom- 
 mended by those for whom he had the greatest respect 
 and consideration, that he chose rather to undergo the 
 mortification, than disoblige so many of his best friends. 
 
 4 The aversion I cherished against the male sex, made 
 me very little attentive to what my father said : it only 
 served to form in my mind an exceeding disagreeable idea 
 of our future boarder. But, how was I surprised when, 
 one night at supper, there entered the room a young man, 
 beautiful beyond expression, who was the boarder ex- 
 pected from Oporto. My father received him with open 
 arms, overjoyed to find he was not imposed on, and per- 
 suaded he had hit upon the right method of compassing 
 his designs. 
 
 ‘ To expect to see a deformed person and find him very 
 handsome, must deeply impress a young heart. I could 
 not refrain from viewing him, in hopes of discovering 
 some defects, but found it was in vain. His hair, which 
 was of an ashen colour, fell carelessly in ringlets on his 
 shoulders ; and his air had something so imposing in it, 
 that after a long scrutiny I could not possibly dislike 
 him. 
 
 ‘ In a few days, the young man’s presence disarmed the 
 haughtiness of my heart. In order to succeed in their 
 design, it was resolved that I should read a course of 
 physic to the boarder. I piqued myself on complying on 
 this occasion, and hiding from Alberto, the boarder, the 
 pleasure his company afforded ; but how weak are we 
 when in love, and how difficult is it to gain such victories 
 without hazarding the most dangerous resolutions. 
 
 ‘ Alberto from the first secretly admired me ; but per- 
 ceiving the loftiness and independency of my carriage, 
 he was so overbearing that I was capriciously led to 
 blame him. I thought that he was too cool, or that I 
 was so indifferent to him that he could disguise his feel- 
 ings without an effort. But when I fell sick, the great- 
 ness of his grief left me in no doubt respecting the strength 
 of his passion. My father, who had a high esteem for 
 the young gentleman, pitied his sorrow, and, in order to 
 rouse him from the dejection he suffered, promised that 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 145 
 
 if I recovered, and he could gain my consent, he would 
 be happy to join our hands. 
 
 ‘ The timorous Alberto dared not approach my cham- 
 ber without my leave, and was usually accompanied by 
 one of the family. His presence always revived me, and 
 his constancy and love were a precious balm that tended 
 to revive my senses. I soon discovered, through my art- 
 ful mind, that my father had given him reason to hope ; 
 and I began to re-argue with myself the prudence of sur- 
 rendering my liberty, and of becoming a slave to the 
 whims of another, merely to gratify a kind of sensual 
 passion inherent in our nature. So I often reasoned ; but 
 a sight of Alberto always destroyed my wise resolutions, 
 I found that I really loved him ; but yet I did not betray 
 the secret. 
 
 ‘ After I had gathered strength, my father resolved to 
 accelerate my recovery, by sending me to a delightful 
 villa, twenty miles from Bourdeaux, where the air was 
 peculiarly salubrious. I agreed to this arrangement, 
 though I would rather have remained at home. When 
 the landeau was at the door, and my father had taken up 
 his hat to accompany me, an express galloped up to the 
 door, requesting his immediate attendance on the Count 
 Limoges, mayor of the city, who had been attacked by a 
 fit of apoplexy. My father seemed perplexed at this mes- 
 sage ; but I assured him that I should think nothing of 
 the disappointment, and that I could go any day that 
 was most convenient. ‘ No, my dear,’ said he, * the mild 
 autumn is rapidly passing away, and the winter will soon 
 approach. You must lose no time in recruiting your 
 health : and, though I must obey the summons which I 
 have just received, yet I am sure Alberto will see you 
 safe to your destination.’ He gave me no time to reply, 
 but ringing the bell, ordered his horse, and then saluting 
 me most affectionately, he left the room. 
 
 ‘ In a few seconds Alberto appeared, and I thought he 
 never looked so interesting. His eyes sparkled with de- 
 light, a blush overspread his manly cheeks, while a 
 modest diffidence regulated every motion. He bowed, 
 and in a voice scarcely articulate, muttered, * Mademois- 
 elle, I obey you.’ — ‘ Sir, I thank you,’ was my laconic re- 
 ply ; on which I walked down stairs, and at the carriage 
 I affected not to see him, but, giving my hand to the ser- 
 vant in attendance, I sprung up to my seat. In a mo- 
 ment Alberto was seated at my side, and the carriage 
 drove on. 
 
 ‘ The day was excessively hot and sultry ; and, as our 
 carriage was open, the rays of the sun darted directly 
 
 J 
 
148 
 
 Rosier a : or 
 
 upon us. Alberto was anxious to screen me from the 
 heat, and I felt his arm upon my shoulder with sensa- 
 tions that were to me quite new. Our knees also touch- 
 ed, and once or twice his hand fell accidentally upon 
 mine. He felt feverish and agitated ; I was afraid lest 
 he should be unwell, and would fain have asked him how 
 he felt, but neither of us seemed able to speak. 
 
 ‘ The villa to which we drove was kept by an old 
 maiden' lady, a distant relation of my father’s, who had 
 furnished it at his own expense. The situation was of 
 the most luxuriant, romantic, and sequestered descrip- 
 tion, being surrounded by small hills that were covered 
 by fruit-trees of various kinds. When we arrived, the 
 evening was remarkably close ; and I felt exhausted with 
 the heat. Alberto received me in his arms, and carried 
 me into the house. I was set down in a neat chamber, 
 resembling a green-house. The golden rays of the setting 
 sun, gilded the tops of the trees, and a refreshing breeze 
 gently agitated the beautiful flowers in the garden. I 
 was enchanted with the richness of the scenery, and the 
 tasteful correspondence observable in the furniture of 
 the chamber. A neat servant girl appeared, and apolo- 
 gized for the absence of her mistress, who had gone to a 
 neighbouring village to place her daughter at school, but 
 had promised to return that night. The servant girl 
 brought some wine, and the most delicious fruit that I 
 had ever tasted. Heated and wearied as I was, I drunk 
 freely of the goblet which he presented to me, and expe- 
 rienced a sudden and pleasant revival of strength and 
 spirits. 
 
 ‘ Alberto gradually came nearer and nearer. He even 
 ventured to raise my hand to his lips, and seemed trans- 
 ported that I did not resent the freedom. He drunk 
 what he called heavenly nectar, and begged me to pledge 
 him. He talked, or rather whispered, the tenderest 
 things imaginable ; he seemed inspired ; his head rested 
 on my bosom, and was supported by my arm. My senses 
 were intoxicated ; my heart beat and fluttered ; volup- 
 tuous visions passed in succession in my imagination ; I 
 experienced sensations the most seductive ; dreams of 
 wild delight transported me out of myself ; my good angel 
 fled in disgust,— and— I was undone. 
 
 ‘ After a sleep of deep forgetfulness, I awoke feverish. 
 I looked up, and the light of the moon shone in at my 
 window. I found myself alone, but carefully covered 
 with a rich silk coverlet. I tried to recollect where I 
 was, and what had happened ; when the awful fact dart- 
 ed upon my mind, that the crown of glory and of purity 
 
THE VIHTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 147 
 
 had fallen from my head. I rose up in an indescribable 
 agony of grief and indignation. ‘ The vile wretch,’ I ex- 
 claimed, ‘ has practised upon my weakness ! He enticed 
 me to swallow the stupifying draught, and then robbed 
 me of my innocency. He has cruelly robbed me of my 
 peace and of my self-esteem, and rendered me a loath- 
 some wretch to myself. Just God !’ I cried, dropping 
 upon my knees, ‘hear my vow, and punish me in thine 
 anger, if I ever again take this traitor to my breast.’ 
 
 * I remained in the house all day, under the most pain- 
 ful impressions of shame. I scarcely ate or drank for 
 three days, but lay lamenting my own infatuation, and 
 the brutal victory that had been achieved over me. At 
 last, religion and philosophy roused me from my stupor. 
 I reflected that I owed a great debt of gratitude to my 
 parents ; and I resolved to act with ^uch scorn and dig- 
 nity towards Alberto. 
 
 ‘ In the evening of the seventh day after my arrival, I 
 yielded to the entreaties of Maria, and agreed to take a 
 short ride upon a fine pony belonging to the mistress of 
 the villa, accompanied by my maid on foot. The sky was 
 beautiful, and I loitered on the road, allowing the ani- 
 mal to walk as slowly as it pleased, when, at a turn of 
 the road, Maria uttered a sudden ejaculation. I turned, 
 and, lo ! Alberto stood before me, in a melancholy atti- 
 tude. I was thunderstruck. He beckoned my maid, 
 with an air of authority, to proceed.; and then said, k Ah ! 
 lovely Lindamine, forgive the violence of a passion which 
 is irresistible and unextinguishable. Above twelve 
 months it has been devouring me. You witnessed the 
 agony of my soul, yet you would not pity— you would not 
 relieve me. Often have I thought to pierce my heart, 
 and to die at your feet ; for surely never was there love 
 like my love. Your mother pitied me— your father con- 
 soled me— even my dog moaned on witnessing the mis- 
 eries I endured ; but you refused even to grant a smile, 
 though that smile was to me more valuable than all the 
 glories and riches upon earth. I knew you loved me, 
 even though you feigned aversion. It was necessary 
 for the happiness of us both that all restraint should be 
 
 banished. An opportunity offered. Providence * ‘Ah? 
 
 wretch,’ I interrupted him, ‘profane not holy names. 
 Me thou hast humbled and polluted, but do not add to 
 thy wickedness by attempting to make God a party to 
 thy crime !’ — ‘No, no, my charming Lindamine,’ he said 
 with fervour, ‘ my dearest wife, I am not the criminal 
 you suppose. Be just to yourself. It is not sinful to 
 love. Our love towards each other is eternal. Let ua 
 
148 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 therefore join in making this declaration before the al- 
 tar : let us receive the blessing of your parents— and then 
 where is our criminality ‘ Away, thou deceiver!’ I 
 cried. ‘ Lindamine is not to be won either by force or by 
 trickery. Begone, or I shall curse thee. Saying this, I 
 pushed forward the pony, and galloped home without 
 casting a glance behind me. 
 
 I went to bed, but not to rest. I reflected on the scene 
 that had passed. Sometimes I felt inclined to pity Al- 
 berto, and pictured to myself the happiness he would de- 
 rive from being taken into favour : but then the insulting 
 mode that he had adopted to secure my person roused 
 my anger anew — I was degraded. 
 
 In two or three days my father visited me. He appeared 
 much hurt at my sickly appearance. I remarked that it 
 was owing to my devotedness to study, and added that 
 perhaps a journey to Paris would impart both health and 
 spirits. The good man took up the hint eagerly, and in- 
 sisted that I should return with him, but I declined this 
 arrangement. 
 
 * Next morning, I and Maria were on our road to Paris. 
 I wished to avoid Alberto, and I expected that new scenes 
 would divert my mind from the melancholy which de- 
 voured me. I spent the winter in the capital, amidst 
 the most refined and intellectual society. Many worthy 
 and celebrated characters paid me attentions the most 
 kind and gratifying. I might have been happy ; but the 
 recollection of my weakness always occurred to my mind, 
 and overwhelmed me with anguish. 
 
 ‘ From the letters I received, I gathered that my mo- 
 ther’s health was declining. My father informed me that 
 Alberto had sailed for Oporto, his father being on the 
 point of death. He then lamented the low, nervous 
 state into which his young friend had fallen, and express- 
 ed his fears that Alberto would never return. He had 
 frequently written, but I always returned his letters un- 
 opened. 
 
 ‘ About three weeks after my return, my father re- 
 quested me to visit a young lady who was in a room be- 
 low, to report to him my opinion of the state of her in- 
 tellects. She was the daughter of a general of reputation, 
 but had carried on an intrigue with her father’s valet, 
 which being discovered, he was banished to Cayenne, and 
 she, after being delivered of a child, had lost her reason. 
 Her father intended to place her in a lunatic asylum at 
 Bourdeaux ; but had, as a preliminary, assembled the 
 first medical gentlemen in the city to consult on her case. 
 
 * I immediately waited on the beautiiul patient. It is 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATD 140 
 
 not necessary that I should detail the particulars of this 
 interview. I then retired to my chamber very ill. My 
 maid was alarmed, and rung the bell for my mother ; and 
 in less than two minutes the five physicians and sur- 
 geons, who were in an adjoining room with my father, 
 entered my bedchamber. I refused to answer any of 
 their interrogatories; but at last a skilful surgeon, who 
 was present, said, smiling and shrugging up his shoulders, 
 * Gentlemen, you will please to walk out of the chamber. 
 Leave mademoiselle to me, and I will soon relieve her/ I 
 burned with indignation at the levity of the surgeon. I 
 saw my father turn pale, and stagger towards the door. 
 At the same moment I felt severe bodily pangs. 
 
 ‘ In a few minutes the child was born ; but it being a 
 premature birth, it died immediately. My mother never 
 spoke, but her tears fell plentifully. I had intended to 
 have hidden my shame from my parents, and to have en- 
 trusted my secret and my child to the mistress of the 
 villa where I had lived ; but accident frustrated this ar- 
 rangement, and my weakness and my crime were now 
 proclaimed in the presence of my father’s professional 
 rivals. 
 
 * The surgeon took a bottle of laudanum, and was count- 
 ing a few drops into a tea-cup, when I sprung forward in 
 bed, and hastily snatched the bottle out of his hands ; 
 but he wrested it from me. when I sunk down in a faint- 
 ing fit. On recovering, the cup was given into my hand ; 
 but I dashed it against the wall. In short, the violence 
 of my feelings threw me into a fever, and for ten days my 
 life was despaired of. 
 
 ‘When my reason returned, I resolved to rise and see 
 what was become of my father, who never appeared. The 
 sorrow under which my mother and the servant seemed 
 to sink, disturbed me very much ; and their answers not 
 agreeing exactly together, I threw myself out of bed fully 
 resolved to penetrate into this mystery. ‘ Go to your bed 
 again, cruel child,’ said my mother, forcing me to com- 
 ply, and do not complete the number of your crimes in 
 too soon destroying my life by the loss of yours, which 
 cannot be far off, after the dishonour you have brought 
 upon yourself. Be satisfied with the bitter anguish with 
 which you have overwhelmed me, by bringing your father 
 to the grave through your vile behaviour, and do not add 
 to your further reproach/ — ‘ My father dead !’ I cried. — 
 ‘Yes, cruel creature,’ continued my mother, shedding a 
 torrent of tears, * your father paid the debt of nature two 
 days after that fatal one which you blackened by spread- 
 ing shame and confusion over the family.’—' My father 
 
150 rosina; or, 
 
 dead !’ I again exclaimed, and then fell into an alarming 
 hysteric fit. 
 
 ‘ When I had recovered my recollection I found myself 
 in my mother’s arms, who did her utmost to calm my 
 perturbed spirits. ‘Take courage,’ she said: ‘what is 
 past cannot be remedied. Your first step at present to- 
 wards an amendment is to implore the forgiveness of 
 heaven for your crimes ; and I will join with you in good 
 works, that we may obtain so great a mercy. The death 
 of a child and a parent can never be sufficiently atoned 
 for. Nevertheless, we ought not to despair,’ continued 
 she, seeing me almost choked with excess of grief ; ‘ the 
 Gospel assures us that a contrite heart opens the gates of 
 mercy. Should your fever relapse, it may be fatal. Hea- 
 ven forbid ! What would become of me, if I should lose 
 all that is left me in the world ?’ Dry up your tears ; the 
 cruel injury you have received shall be atoned for by 
 your marrying the person who found means to delude 
 you. 
 
 ‘ Above a month elapsed before my health was in a 
 tolerable degree established. So much did she respect 
 my feelings, and so strong was my aversion even to ah 
 lude to the subject, that the individual to whom we owed 
 our misfortunes was never mentioned. As I gathered 
 strength, my poor mother grew feebler. She had sup- 
 ported herself by a great effort ; but her dissolution drew 
 near. * Lindamine.’ said she, in a tremulous voice, ‘may 
 God forgive you 1 Your father and I wished to see you 
 honourably established in the world. You affected to 
 hate men, in order that you might carry on your secret 
 acts of wickedness. Had you repented, you would have 
 named your seducer to your only parent, who has sacri- 
 ficed her life to preserve yours.’ I seized her hand, and 
 bathed it with my tears. I felt a slight pressure ; when, 
 on looking up, my honoured mother had ceased to 
 breathe. Her death, under such circumstances, threw 
 me into the agonies of despair. The excess of my grief 
 at last rendered me quite frantic ; but the frequent ex- 
 hortations of a worthy clergyman brought me by degrees 
 to myself. He prevailed on me, after hearing all my mis- 
 fortunes, to have recourse to Almighty God. My sin- 
 cerity and innocence appeared to him indisputable ; re- 
 ligion had gained its ascendency over me, and I made my 
 confession with the disposition of a sincere penitent. Ho 
 comforted me by representing that I might reasonably 
 hope to find mercy at the sight of God ; but if I had per- 
 sisted in rebelling against his will, I should have excluded 
 myself from his holy grace. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 151 
 
 * Such exhortations, often repeated with great fervour, 
 had the effect the good curate proposed. After a spirit- 
 ual retreat of nine days, which he enjoined, an inspira- 
 tion from heaven induced me to make a vow of going in 
 pilgrimage to Luxemburg. This vow I have now fulfilled, 
 and am firmly determined at my return to become a nun, 
 bestowing one half of my estate on the poor, and dividing 
 the other among my relations, as their several wants may 
 require. I communicated my plan to my worthy direc- 
 tor. He congratulated me on such pious resolutions; 
 but he disapproved of the pilgrimage, as liable to great 
 inconveniences, to which, in so long a journey, a young 
 woman must unexpectedly be exposed ; but he found me 
 strongly bent on the performance. 
 
 * It is now a year and a day since I came from home in 
 this equipage. I have had the good fortune to execute 
 my design without any troublesome adventure, except 
 the temptations thrown in my way by two emissaries 
 sent by Alberto to dissuade me from my purpose. Thus, 
 mademoiselle, I have given you a brief and faithful his- 
 tory of my life, and which may teach you the necessity of 
 watchfulness. If a beautiful woman slumbers at her 
 post, the enemy is sure to surprise her.' 
 
 I wept during this recital, which was delivered 
 with much feeling. I sincerely condoled with the 
 pilgrim, and regretted that I had not the power to 
 express the interest with which she had inspired 
 me. After some further conversation, she begged 
 leave to withdraw. When I was left alone, I be- 
 gan to wonder at Captain Ross’s long absence, 
 which I attributed to his delicacy. 
 
 After finishing a letter to Lady Beckford, I walk- 
 ed backwards and forwards in my room. I felt a 
 desire to visit the interesting pilgrim. But on en- 
 tering her chamber, I was surprised to see at her 
 feet a very handsome gentleman, expressing him- 
 self with great emotion, and from whom the pretty 
 pilgrim was trying to free herself, with words fre- 
 quently interrupted by her tears. I was about re- 
 tiring, when Lindamine cried out, ‘ No, no, my dear 
 friend, come in and lend me your assistance to 
 guard my heart against the unworthy lover you 
 have heard me mention. Behold him, who alleges 
 the most outrageous injury as a proof of the ten- 
 
152 ROSIN A ; OB, 
 
 derest affection.’ — ‘ Yes, charming Lindamine,’ 
 cried Alberto, 1 may heaven punish me this instant, 
 if I had the least intention of offending you ! From 
 the first moment, my heart, captivated by your 
 charms, to the name of lover would fain have join- 
 ed that of husband ; for which I had your father’s 
 consent. I plead guilty, my charming Lindamine. 
 That you really love me is no secret ; why, there- 
 fore, will you make us both unhappy, my wife, my 
 dearest wife, as you are ?’ — ‘ Hold, barbarous man,’ 
 cried the pilgrim, all in tears, ‘ what odious title do 
 you give me ? What base means, O heavens, dare 
 
 you ’ ‘ Yes, you are my wife,’ replied Alberto, 
 
 eagerly grasping her hand : ‘ nothing but death 
 shall wrest from me the amiable name of husband. 
 Let this lady be judge,’ continued the wretched 
 lover, turning to me, ‘she shall decide.’ — ‘ I take 
 you at your word,’ replied Lindamine, casting a 
 look at me; ‘I am convinced her sentiments of 
 honour and religion are such, that I have no room 
 to doubt her passing sentence in my favour.’ 
 
 Alberto began with exaggerating his passion, 
 tenderness, and constancy. He set forth the most 
 spacious pretences, in excuse of his rashness and its 
 consequences ; and endeavoured to make me enter 
 into his opinion, which was, that since what had 
 happened could not be recalled, decency required 
 that marriage should supply the defects of his past 
 conduct ; alleging that, abstracted from his love, 
 probity obliged him to insist on the marriage. 
 
 I said, ‘ Since you are pleased, sir, to refer your 
 plea to my decision, give me leave to tell you that 
 my sentiments on this affair are very different from 
 yours. In my opinion, you are not only unworthy 
 of the favour to which you aspire, but even of being 
 received into the rank of those whose strict regard 
 for virtue gives them a just elevation of thought ; 
 since you have so outrageously trampled on the 
 dictates of honour and probity upon which you 
 seem to value yourself. Is it possible with your 
 education you should act so inconsistently with 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAII> 
 
 153 
 
 that duty you owe yourself ? In truth, I must say 
 it, your behaviour in this affair is properly an as- 
 sassination. You plead that your love prompted 
 you to this outrage. No, sir, real love never leads 
 to villany. Besides, it is not to be called love, 
 where the passion ultimately centres in itself. But 
 what obligation do you lay upon your mistress, 
 whom you admire because she is handsome — bears 
 a good character— is sweet tempered - has uncom- 
 mon talents — and is completely qualified to be a 
 companion for life ? Put the case, that this mis- 
 tress, in an unguarded hour, should be susceptible 
 of any frailty ; a man of worth, who purposes to 
 many her, would be the first to support her against 
 any such weakness, instead of taking the advan- 
 tage of such an inclination. 
 
 ‘ How slender soever my experience may be, I 
 think I have given you a faint sketch of the real 
 character of a man of worth, and an honourable 
 lover, to both which I think Mademoiselle Linda- 
 mineis justly entitled; and which, had she found 
 them in you, would have made her completely 
 happy, if she really has those favourable sentiments 
 in your behalf that you seem to assert. But, 
 through an unhappy contract, she is become the 
 most wretched of her sex. Reflect how. many cruel 
 evils have flowed from your rashness : she loses her 
 father, brings her mother to the grave, and is on 
 the point of plunging herself headlong into eter- 
 nity. To complete the whole, she lies under the 
 strictest obligations, both of honour and religion, 
 to make herself a sacrifice, and retire for the rest 
 of her life to a monastry, in order to appease a 
 guilty conscience. Let so generous an effort be 
 equalled on your side ; or if you cannot obtain so 
 noble a victory over yourself, at least give this last 
 proof of your love not to disturb her in the execu- 
 tion of what she proposes.’ 
 
 Naming a monastry Alberto threw himself again 
 at her feet, with such marks of a sincere repent- 
 ance, uttering the most moving speeches, that the 
 
154 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 pretty creature’s passion began to revive. Alberto, 
 as cunning as amorous, pursued his advantage so 
 warmly, that, with a deep sigh, followed by a 
 shower of tears, she owned her happiness insepar- 
 able from his, and that her vow was the only ob- 
 stacle left. In transports, Alberto told her that 
 such a vow was of little consequence, and that any 
 priest could grant a dispensation from it ; the ob- 
 taining of which would be attended with the less 
 difficulty, as there were cogent reasons for their 
 being married. Lindamine again mentioning her 
 vow and the monastry, Alberto in a violent trans- 
 port drew his sword, and would have thrown him- 
 self upon it. ‘ Hold, cruel man,’ cried Lindamine, 
 ‘ will you put the finishing stroke to all my mis- 
 fortunes? Put up your sword. I must yield. No, 
 you shall not die ; you are too dear to me. Hea- 
 vens ! what would become of me if I had this death 
 also to lament ? Do not, Alberto, do not thus ter- 
 rify me any more. Allow me this night to implore 
 the assistance of heaven, that I may be directed by 
 its inspirations. In the morning you shall have my 
 answer; — alas! too conformable perhaps to my in- 
 clinations/ 
 
 Lindamine returned to me, drying her tears, and 
 assured me that nothing should prevail on her to 
 alter the resolution she had taken. ‘ Ought I not 
 to blush,’ said she, ‘ when I look you in the face, 
 after betraying so much weakness ? But, dearest 
 Bosina, deprive me not of your esteem. 
 
 The pilgrim then ordered a chaise. ‘ I must con- 
 fess,’ said she, addressing me, ‘ that nothing but 
 flight can make my virtue triumph. A man who is 
 not disagreeable is a very dangerous enemy. 
 Nothing but divine grace could have preserved me 
 in this conflict. But the bitterness of death is now 
 past.’ Lindamine and I now parted with regret; 
 but she promised, when safely sheltered in a secure 
 haven, that I should hear from her. It was easy 
 to perceive, by her sorrow and her tears, how diffi- 
 cult it is to quit for ever a beloved admirer. At 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 155 
 
 last she stepped out, muffled up in a cloak. But 
 Alberto appeared on a sudden. ‘ Pardon my des- 
 pair, dear Lindamine,’ cried he, stopping our pas- 
 sage, ‘ I had rather suffer death than consent to 
 your unjust designs. Will you then leave me, and 
 withdraw yourself from the legitimate rights I have 
 over youP’ ‘ Rights !’ cried the pilgrim very reso- 
 lutely ; ‘ ah ! my God, of what nature are they ? 
 Ought you not to blush P Would you resemble 
 those who, arrogating a power to themselves which 
 they have not, think they need but speak, and the 
 matter is done ? As for my part, I am not of this 
 opinion,’ continued Lindamine : ‘ you will be so 
 good, if you please — ’ ‘ To return to your own 
 apartment,’ replied Alberto, growing calmer, and 
 lowering his voice : ‘ Ah ! I ask your pardon, young 
 lady, for thus opposing your designs ; but I will 
 perish before I let you go away without me.’ This 
 amiable young creature returned of her own ac- 
 cord, rather than suffer violence. ‘Ah! how 
 wretched am I,’ cried she, throwing herself into an 
 arm-chair ; ‘ those who ought to behave with re- 
 spect become my tyrants. I submit, O my God,’ 
 continued she, shedding tears ; ‘ in thee I place my 
 hope, founded on the purity of my intentions.’ ‘ I 
 leave you, mademoiselle,’ said Alberto in a respect- 
 ful voice : ‘ I am going to pray to that heaven 
 which you invoke, to free your mind from this 
 agitation. As soon as you give me any marks of 
 it, you shall find me resigned ; but, without that, I 
 swear solemnly I would rather suffer death than 
 you should engage in any rash enterprise. If love 
 has no greater sway in your heart, at least let hon- 
 our reign in its place.’ Lindamine, who was pretty 
 warm in her temper, poured out her soul in the 
 most cruel and bitter complaints, as soon as her 
 lover had left us. 
 
 Just then, a servant informed me that a gentle- 
 man below waited my pleasure. On entering my 
 room, I saw that it was Captain Ross. He bowed, 
 and apologized for his long absence, saying that he 
 
156 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 had got the business relating to his passport set- 
 tled, and that on returning to the inn, he had come 
 into contact with the young gentleman who was in 
 search of the pilgrim. He observed that he was a 
 fine accomplished youth, and that he had heard of 
 his love disappointment at Paris. ‘ I have taken 
 the liberty,’ he added, ‘ to invite him to sup with us, 
 and hope you will find him, if his agitation permit, 
 a most agreeable companion. He merits the sym- 
 pathy of every feeling mind.’ 
 
 Just then Alberto entered the room. He was re- 
 ceived by Captain Boss with great cordiality, and 
 by me by a cold civility. He seated himself with 
 a polite and dignified, but melancholy air. Supper 
 was immediately served up ; but I perceived that 
 he ate a little merely to avoid our importunities. 
 When the cloth was removed, he said, looking upon 
 me, ‘ How strange, that so cruel a heart can be 
 lodged in so beautiful a form I’ • Captain Boss dart- 
 ed a severe glance at Alberto. ‘ Yes, my dear sir/ 
 continued the latter, ‘this young lady has pro- 
 nounced my doom, and accompanied it with such 
 remerks as have pierced my soul. — ‘ The lady, I am 
 convinced/ said the captain, ‘ could neither do or 
 say what was unfeeling or unjust.’ — ‘Ah! sir, it 
 was justice unmixed with mercy ; but, oh ! it was 
 unkind to advise my own Lindamine to become the 
 lingering victim, through a long life of despair or 
 insanity of gloomy bigotry.’ 
 
 ‘ It does matter/ replied I, * that you act with 
 the spirit and the courage of a man and a Christian. 
 Poor Lindamine can find no peace of mind in so- 
 ciety, and is therefore wise in seeking a dignified 
 asylum ; and you, sir, ought to applaud the wisdom 
 
 Piety ! no, no, say barbarity ! Ba- 
 ther than suffer my wife to take the vows, I will 
 accompany her spirit into the unknown world.’ 
 Terrified at the energy with which he uttered this 
 dreadful resolution, I turned pale, and begged him 
 to be calm. 
 
 resolution.’ ‘ Wisdom !’ echoed 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 157 
 
 Early next morning, I was awaked by a great 
 noise and bustle in the house, and heard Captain 
 Ross ordering a horse. Alarmed, I junped out of 
 bed, and, dressing myself, descended to ask what 
 had happened. ‘ Alas !’ said the landlady, ‘ the pil- 
 grim has escaped, and the poor gentleman is al- 
 most distracted. I thought, when I saw her first, 
 that she was not right. Poor woman! what a pity 
 she should fly from her friends !’ 
 
 I returned to my chamber, admiring the courage 
 and determination of the pilgrim, whose personal 
 appearance indicated the height of feminine soft- 
 ness. In about two hours, Captain Ross returned. 
 He and Alberto had met a countryman, who had 
 conveyed Lindamine to a convent, near an adjoin- 
 ing town called Bauge. He confessed that he had 
 been well paid by the lady’s steward, who always 
 followed his mistress ; and that he had taken her 
 out of a window, at a quarter of an hour before 
 twelve o’clock at night. She then mounted a horse 
 which he was leading, and galloped off. Alberto, 
 after fruitless endeavours to see Lindamine, made 
 an attempt upon his own life, but was saved by the 
 care and friendship of a young lawyer, who lived 
 at Bauge, and who afterwards accompanied the dis- 
 appointed lover to Paris. Here he heard that his 
 mistress had taken the veil ; but his mind had now 
 gathered strength, and he frequented the gayest 
 and most intelligent parties. In a short time, he 
 married a beautiful and virtuous young lady, and 
 is now one of the most respectable physicians in 
 Paris. 
 
 About noon, we set forward on our journey, and 
 next day reached Granville, and sailed for Jersey, 
 and we had a pleasant sail along the French coast ; 
 and as the cabin was dirty, I lay all night upon 
 deck, wrapped up in a coat. On landing at Jersey, 
 we found that a ship would sail for Portsmouth in 
 two days, and in which Captain Ross engaged our 
 passage. 
 
 We had rather a squally voyage ; but at noon on 
 
158 rosina; or, 
 
 the third day, we arrived safely at Portsmouth. I 
 was so much exhausted on landing, that I begged 
 leave to be left alone at the hotel during the after- 
 noon. Having enjoyed a comfortable night’s rest, 
 I rose next morning, and dressed myself rather 
 smartly, being big with the expectations of what 
 would happen in London. 
 
 After breakfast, post-chaises were ordered, and 
 we posted through the country to Richmond. So 
 attentive was the captain to my feelings and char- 
 acter, that he rode in a separate chaise. We drove 
 to the principal inn, and were soon seated at din- 
 ner. My mind was occupied with the scenes of 
 former days, and with the hopes and fears so na- 
 tural to a person in my situation. The captain also 
 was remarkably grave and silent. 
 
 On his departure, I took up a book, and tried to 
 amuse myself ; but crowds of reflections caused me 
 to lay it down again. A long time elapsed, and the 
 captain never appeared. Once I thought of leaving 
 the inn, of going by the stage to London, and of 
 throwing myself into the arms of my parent : but 
 then the dread of the losing an opportunity of hear- 
 ing of the earl, and the exultation that Miss Lambe 
 would feel at my down-fall, banished this scheme 
 from my mind. I certainly did not experience 
 much satisfaction in my x^resent situation. Captain 
 Ross was evidently in love, though I had not en- 
 couraged him. Like a man of honour, he had de- 
 clared his passion, and left me perfectly at liberty 
 to act as I pleased. I had candidly informed him, 
 ■that my affections were engaged. He had behaved 
 towards me with the strictest propriety ; and I con- 
 cluded I ought not, by an affected behaviour, to 
 give him any reason of suspecting me of hypocrisy. 
 Finally, I resolved to accept his offer, and to allow 
 him to engage me apartments in London, which I 
 would pay for myself, until I could hear of my 
 long-lost lover, or procure the advice of Lady Beck- 
 ford. 
 
 Wearied with the day’s exercise, I reclined in my 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 159 
 
 chair, and fell fast asleep. Hearing voices, I start- 
 ed up, and saw two men standing over me. One 
 of them was advanced in years, and by his dress 
 was a person of quality. The other was a tall, pre- 
 cise-looking man, and seemed to be the servant of 
 the old gentleman. My alarm was visible. ‘ I 
 beg,’ said the old gentleman, ‘you will not be 
 frightened. We had no intention of intruding 
 upon the privacy of a lady, or of disturbing your 
 repose ; but mistook this for our apartment. Hav- 
 ing seen you, to retreat immediately was impossi- 
 ble ; for, old as I am, I could not deny myself the 
 pleasure of gazing a while. So many charms can- 
 not be destitute of sufficient sweetness of temper to 
 excuse what has happened, and I hope such an at- 
 tracting motive will plead my pardon.’ 
 
 This flattery somehow gratified my vanity, and I 
 returned those compliments in the politest manner. 
 The stranger was transported with the complais- 
 ance of my answer and behaviour. ‘ Is it possible,* 
 he said, ‘ that so much wit and beauty should be 
 united ? She has certainly been well educated. 
 Happy man, who is to possess such a treasure of 
 good sense ! Who would have imagined, Frazer,’ 
 continued he, turning his eyes to the tall man on 
 whose shoulder he leaned, ‘that at my years I 
 could have expected so favourable a reception ? A 
 great proof of the just way of thinking this young 
 lady possesses.’ — ‘Take care, sir,’ replied I, very 
 modestly, ‘lest your encomiums inspire a vanity 
 prejudicial to that merit you are pleased to extol. 
 But if, as you seem to say, there is any in over- 
 looking age and personal advantages, I must needs 
 own I have so much good sense, as to consider only 
 character and worth in men ; and were I to make 
 a choice, such qualifications would fix it, preferably 
 to those of a more alluring nature.’ 
 
 The old gentleman extolled my discrimination 
 with much ingenuity and felicity of expression. In 
 the beginning of this interview I had offered chairs; 
 but the stranger obliged me to be seated, while hia 
 
160 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 attendant brought an arm-chair. Fora short time 
 I enjoyed a lively and elegant conversation, until 
 the old gentleman began again to extol his good 
 fortune, in being so accidentally introduced t$) the 
 loveliest creature in creation. I blushed at the ex- 
 travagance of his compliments, but thought it now 
 prudent to put an end to the conversation. I there- 
 fore rose, saying, ‘ Gentlemen, permit me to ter* 
 fninate this interview* Your conversation has been 
 instructive and agreeable; but your compliments 
 are extravagant and misplaced.’ He replied, ‘ My 
 dear miss, do not despatch a visit so unceremoni* 
 ously, from which I have derived so much delight. 
 I could not refrain from admiring your unaffected 
 charms ; and if, in doing so, I have offended, you 
 will certainly forgive me.-‘ Considering my situa- 
 tion, and that you are a stranger,’ I replied, ‘ I can* 
 not accuse myself either of reserve or incivility.’ — 
 ‘ Oh ! no, madam,’ he exclaimed ; ‘ but if we must 
 depart, shall we not be permitted to repeat this 
 visit?’ — ‘I am travelling, sir,’ I answered, ‘and 
 when we accidentally meet again, I shall feel happy 
 to listen to your witty remarks ; always barring* 
 mind, the complimentary part.’ 
 
 Just as these gentlemen retired, ten o’clock 
 struck. I resumed my seat, — and eleven struck. 
 Still no tidings of Captain Ross. ‘ Surely,’ said I 
 to myself, ‘ he would never abandon me in this 
 strange manner. But I have no claims upon him, 
 and I ought to act as equally free. Just then a 
 waiter entered, and presented a letter to me. I sat 
 down and read as follows : 
 
 * Charming Rosina, 
 
 * A strange accident has happened. Looking through 
 the window while dinner was serving up, I saw -do not 
 start — I saw my cousin, the Earl of Lemington, pass on 
 the opposite side of the street ! I was astonished, as I 
 had, the moment before, read in the newspaper that he 
 had joined the regiment which he commands at Bristol. 
 During dinner my feelings were tortured with this disco- 
 very ; but at length I resolved to present myself before 
 him. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MA.TD. 1GI 
 
 'The earl seemed confused at my appearance. Onr 
 conversation was upon general subjects ; though lie was 
 twenty times on the point of speaking concerning you. 
 Had he ventured on this topic, I would have answered 
 him honourably. Alter supper, he inquired to what point 
 I was travelling. I answered to London, and immedi- 
 ately ordered a chaise, in which I departed. If you wish 
 to have an interview with the earl, a note will find him 
 at the King’s Head. I have no right to advise in a mat- 
 ter of this kind. Perhaps you may blame my want of 
 generosity to my worthy relative ; but then, dear Rosina, 
 your image was constantly before me, and — love is sel- 
 fish 
 
 * Should you continue your confidence in my honour 
 and disposition to serve you, I have left one of my ser- 
 vants, who will be at your disposal, and will protect you 
 to town. 
 
 * Adieu, my amiable friend, 
 
 ‘James Ross.’ 
 
 I retired to my chamber, while my heart beat 
 with joy. ‘ The earl then is alive and thinking of 
 me.’ This filled me with ecstasy. I was once very 
 happy! But how could I see the dear man ? Cap- 
 tain Boss hinted that I might send a note. But 
 how could I effect this with propriety and deli- 
 cacy P Then I reflected on the imprudence of re- 
 fusing the retreat which the captain had advised 
 me to accept. I saw he was actuated by love and 
 jealousy; yet who could have acted with more 
 generosity P My love for the earl was sufficient to 
 guard me against any temptations ; but ought I, 
 by accepting the services of the captain, to encour- 
 age his passion P Then, again, was it wise to sac- 
 rifice present advantages for doubtful prospects ? 
 The earl had for a long time made no effort to see 
 me. Perhaps, then, I might be displaced from his 
 affections by some new object ; and Captain Boss’s 
 notions of his continued love might have been 
 created by mere jealousy. 
 
 These reflections kept me awake most part of the 
 night. On coming down stairs, the landlord of the 
 inn saluted me by a low obeisance, saying, 1 Please 
 your ladyship, the gentleman who visited you last 
 
 K 
 
102 
 
 ROSTNA ; OR, 
 
 evening', and who are highly respectable, would 
 feel obliged if you would condescend to breakfast 
 with them, and do the honours of the tea-table.’ I 
 hesitated ; w'hen the tall gentleman, a Mr. Frazer, 
 appeared, and joined his entreaties w T ith those of 
 the landlord ; and I was led into the breakfast 
 room. 
 
 The old gentleman received me with dignity and 
 affability, avoiding flattering encomiums. I was 
 gratified to see respect substituted for flattery, and 
 resolved again always to resent that familiarity and 
 childish treatment by which some women suffer 
 themselves to be degraded. The old gentleman, 
 addressing me in the Italian language, repeated a 
 line from Petrarch, signifying that I appeared like 
 a new-blown rose. I shook my head, and he smiled. 
 Thinking that I did not understand him, he said, 
 in the same language, ‘Are you sure, Frazer, that 
 it was really our young rascal?’- ‘ Quite sure,’ re- 
 plied Frazer. — ‘ The blockhead ! he does not pos- 
 sess an atom of sense or spirit. Only think of a 
 handsome nobleman, of high birth, good education, 
 and influential connexions, despising all these 
 things, and running after an ignorant country girl 
 from a dunghill ? I too have felt the omnipotence 
 of love ; but I always sought for beauty and wit. 
 But — pshaw ! — I have no patience to think of it.’ 
 
 I now saw that this was the Earl of Glenford, 
 and that the discourse concerned myself ; and as 
 they supposed me ignorant of Italian, I resolved to 
 obtain information which, to me, was of import- 
 ance. 
 
 ‘ You are severe, my lord,’ said Frazer, ‘ but 
 I think the disobedience of Captain Ross deserves 
 your honours severest chastisement.’ — ‘Aye, Fra- 
 zer,’ replied his lordship, ‘ he has played me a trick 
 which he shall repent. He has been sent to Paris 
 by Remington, to bring him the girl, and bam- 
 boozle us. But I will be a marplot. After all, 
 Frazer, is it not laughable to think how that hypo- 
 crite Lambe, and her paramour, the lieutenant of 
 
TTTE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 163 
 
 police, would look, when they heard that their vic- 
 tim had escaped ?’ 
 
 ‘ Oh ! my lord,’ said Frazer , 1 you speak strangely 
 of the Honourable Miss Lam be. I thought that 
 your lordship honoured her with your esteem and 
 confidence.’ — 4 No, no, — you wily Scot, did you not 
 see that she wanted to make me an instrument of 
 her revenge? I hate her for the thought; and 
 were the girl as beautiful and accomplished as this 
 young lady, I would have protected her, just to 
 vex the venomous toad.’ 
 
 ‘But,’ said Frazer, ‘love is blind; and perhaps 
 Lemington may look upon this rustic girl as pos- 
 sessed of as many charms as this young lady ex- 
 hibits.’ — ‘Nonsense!’ replied his lordship, ‘even a 
 madman would see at a glimpse the difference be- 
 tween a lady like this, and the ignorant, proud, 
 cunning wench we speak of. I wonder how Lem- 
 ington could stoop to touch such a vulgar, coarse- 
 made, uneducated hussy.’ I felt vexed at being so 
 cruelly handled ; while I was ready to sink with 
 apprehension lest I should be discovered. 
 
 The earl inquired whether I continued my jour- 
 ney immediately. I answered in the affirmative. 
 
 ‘ Well,’ said he, ‘ I ought to have slept last night at 
 my country seat ; but my servants, not expecting 
 me until this morning, did not meet me with the 
 horses. But the disappointment I do not regret, 
 since it has procured me the pleasure of your ac- 
 quaintance ; and I shall be proud if you will ac- 
 cept a seat in my carriage.* 
 
 I thanked his lordship, but declined his offer. He 
 then presented me with his card, which I received 
 with a deep blush, caused by various sensations 
 that crowded upon me. ‘ Perhaps, miss, you travel 
 incognito ,’ said his lordship. I replied, ‘ I do.’ — ‘ I 
 am -sorry,’ he observed, ‘that the vision must be 
 closed in this manner. I shall think of this meet- 
 ing as of a scene of enchantment.’— ‘ You might 
 with safety,’ I said, ‘ leave these hyperbolical phra- 
 ses for the rising generation.’ — ‘ Oh ! no,’ his lord- 
 
1G4 
 
 ROSINA ; OH, 
 
 ship said, 4 the rising generation have no spirit or 
 taste. The court ladies, in the days of my youth, 
 were worshipped with an extatic fervour of devo- 
 tion ; but then they were lovely, attractive, and 
 seductive. Now our young gentlemen call them- 
 selves philosophers, and yet doat upon the most 
 vulgar sluts.’ 
 
 4 1 am sorry,’ said I, 4 to hear that the national 
 taste is degenerating ; but I hope your lordship’s 
 family is exempted from the general infatuation.* 
 — ' 4 Ah ! miss, I wish it were so,’ said his lordship ; 
 
 4 but I am j ust now going in pursuit of a near and 
 dear relation, who is madly intent upon his own 
 ruin and disgrace, being deluded by the affected 
 simplicity of a sly baggage, base in birth, ignorant 
 as a hottentot, and certainly not more beautiful 
 than one of these African ladies.’ 
 
 4 Perhaps,’ said I, 4 your lordship is wrong in at- 
 taching so much importance to this affair. I should 
 think that the friends of the country girl have most 
 cause to be alarmed at the connexion.’ — He replied, 
 4 Why, I believe you are right ; for I cannot think 
 that my nephew will marry the hussy, though he 
 values himself much on honour, constancy, and 
 such like fooleries.’ — 4 You will pardon me, my 
 lord,’ said I, 4 but I fear you may have been im- 
 posed upon. The girl must have some virtues, or 
 your nephew would not have been so deeply capti- 
 vated.’ — 4 Virtues !’ he echoed, 4 Oh ! yes, she has 
 many shining ones. She has lived in the family of 
 a married man, under very suspicious circumstan- 
 ces : — she bilked a respectable stock-broker abom- 
 inably : — she drove a gallant naval officer from the 
 service, to snivel in a church : — she has led my 
 nephew and heir into a variety of broils ; has bro- 
 ken my peace of mind ; and, in spite of the most 
 admirable schemes for securing and humbling her, 
 I would not wonder to see her driving about 
 amongst us with an air of insulting triumph.’ 
 
 4 Still, my lord,’ I rejoined, 4 1 charitably suppose 
 that the girl’s character has been misrepresented to 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 1G5 
 
 vour lordship.’ — ‘ Impossible ; I have heard it drawn 
 by a lady of rank.’ — ‘ Aye,’ I cried, ‘perhaps a ri- 
 val. Have a care, my lord — Love, who is at the 
 bottom of this affair, is a great leveller. The lady 
 who has prejudiced you against the country lass 
 perhaps is young ; your nephew is doubtless a very 
 amiable person ; where would be the wonder, then, 
 if she really has an affection for him ? Perhaps 
 not being able to bear a rival so much her inferior, 
 she has taken this opportunity of punishing her, 
 for pretending to a heart she is desirous of securing 
 to herself.’ 
 
 But Earl Glenford was too full of the subject; 
 and to convince me of the correctness of his judg- 
 ment, he continued his abuse of the unworthy Ro- 
 sina. I listened with feelings not the most envia- 
 ble ; when suddenly changing his manner, he said, 
 ‘ Had she been a person of merit, I could have par- 
 doned the fond youth. The charms inherent in 
 some objects are irresistable ; nor can they be gazed 
 upon with impunity. Indeed, I feel my own hap- 
 piness is now at stake; and you ’ ‘ Alas! my 
 
 lord,’ exclaimed I, 4 this language would be unbe- 
 coming in an amorous boy ; but to be thus flatter- 
 ed and abused in the same — — ’ Here I stopped 
 short, perceiving my indiscretion. I thanked his 
 lordship for his kind attentions, and, wishing him 
 a pleasant journey, said I must prepare for my 
 own. 
 
 ‘ My dear lady,’ said the earl, stepping between 
 me and the door, ‘ do not depart in anger. If I 
 have undesignedly affronted you, I am the most un- 
 fortunate of beings. Speak, thou angel, dost thus 
 forgive me ?’ — 4 My lord,’ said I, with some resolu- 
 tion, ‘ do not impede me. I assume no right either 
 to hear your confessions, or to grant you absolu- 
 tion. Saying which, I firmly stepped past him, 
 and walked to my room. 
 
 I now felt bound to inform the Earl of Leming- 
 ton that his uncle was in pursuit of him, which 
 would also reveal to him that I was in Richmond. 
 
13G 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 I therefore wrote a note ; and I determined to de- 
 liver it myself, to prevent accidents, and I went in 
 search of the inn where I expected to meet my 
 lover. As I drew near, the captain’s servant met 
 me. 4 Ah ! my lady,’ he cried, 4 how glad I am to 
 see you safe ! How lucky that the Earl of Glen- 
 ford has not discovered you !’ 4 And what if the 
 
 earl did discover me V I need not be afraid of 
 his lordship.’ — ‘No, madam; hut, though old, he is 
 so fond of pretty ladies, that he might prove very 
 troublesome. It is well that my master and the 
 earl are out of the way, or there might be sad work.’ 
 — ‘ Is the young earl off too?’--- 4 Oh ! yes. I told 
 his footman that the old General, as we call him, 
 was here ; and they were off in a crack.’ — 4 Well,’ 
 said I, 4 what must I do, John Why, madam, 
 just step into this house ; I will get you a coach in 
 a minute ; then off you whisk to London. I will 
 stop and pay the inn bill, get your trunk, and fol- 
 low in quick time.’— 4 Be it so, a I replied. 
 
 I stepped into a chaise, and, drawing up the 
 blinds, lest the old earl should see me, passed safely 
 out of the town. Both the earl and the landlord 
 were surprised at my mysterious flight. The earl 
 proposed to have my trunk opened ; but the land- 
 lord refused. In the afternoon, he and his train 
 set off for London ; when John appeared at the inn, 
 paid the bills, got the luggage, and followed to 
 town. 
 
 I ordered the cjhaise to drive to the house where 
 Captain Ross stayed, and whom I found walking 
 before the door. He flew to receive me and whis- 
 pered, 4 Ah! lovely Rosina, you have revived me. 
 [ was beginning to sink into despair. I was sus- 
 pecting that you had ceased to confide in me, and 
 could not well help envying the happiness of my 
 cousin.’ 4 1 have not seen your cousin,' said I, ‘but 
 [ found some difficulty in escaping from old Glen- 
 ford, who is the most importunate gallant I ever 
 met with.’ — 4 Good heavens ! Rosina, what do you 
 luean ? You have not been in company with rny 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 137 
 
 uncle?’ — ‘ Yes, but I have,’ replied I; ‘we break- 
 fasted together this morning, and he is peculiarly 
 anxious to be enrolled in the list of my admirers.’ 
 Captain Ross seemed much disturbed at this acci- 
 dent. 
 
 My travelling name was Mrs. Boyd. The cap- 
 tain had persuaded me to appear by that name in 
 London, and as the widow of an officer. This he 
 stated would procure me more respect, and permit 
 me to use my liberty without suspicion or interrup- 
 tion. It would, he also argued, save me from the 
 importunities of a crowd of idle fops, and I might 
 receive any visit as if consulting on business. 
 
 The captain informed me that he had hired apart- 
 ments for me at the west corner of Parliament 
 Street, and had also engaged a waiting woman and 
 a cook-maid. I remarked that two servants were 
 rather too much for my finances to support. I am 
 grateful for your kindness ; but do not attempt to 
 deprive me of my self-respect.’ He then said that 
 he had paid the lodgings for a month, and at the end 
 of that time I might leave or continue as I pleased ; 
 and that he would afterwards take back what he 
 had advanced on my account, should I insist upon 
 it. With this understanding I stepped into a 
 hackney-coach, and proceeded to my lodgings. 
 
 Captain Ross promised that he would give me 
 any information he could obtain respecting the earl. 
 ‘ I am so entirely devoted to you, — I love you with 
 that delicacy, that I am resolved to serve you against 
 my own interest. No more mistrust therefore, 
 lovely Rosina ; no longer look upon me as obstruct- 
 ing your secret inclinations. I vow, notwithstand- 
 ing the ardent affection I have for you, that I will 
 ever promote your happiness, as far as lies in my 
 power. All I ask in return for an esteem so disin- 
 terested, is, that you will never forbid me your 
 company. Unruly passions are strangers to my 
 breast. The virtue I profess to cultivate, will al- 
 ways check any thing improper on my part.’ 
 
 The landlady received me at the door in a very 
 
168 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 obliging manner. ‘Good God!’ said she to the 
 captain, ‘ how young this lady must have been mar- 
 ried ! She is yet only a very handsome infant.’ 
 This remark put me to the blush, but the captain, 
 presenting his hand, led me up a handsome stair- 
 case, to my apartment on the first floor. The re- 
 flection of the sun from the glasses and gilding,had 
 a most brilliant effect. The beauty and freshness 
 of the carpet, the elegance of the window hangings, 
 and the richness of the furniture, combined to afford 
 me delight. I muttered, ‘ Very beautiful indeed — 
 and very proper for a lady of fortune.’ 
 
 The maid hired to wait on me came up. She was 
 about fifty, and had an easy insinuating air. Her 
 name was Phillis ; and the landlady said she had 
 lately left a duchess’s service, by reason of a vio- 
 lent passion the secretary had for her, and which 
 might have endangered her innocence. I could not 
 forbear smiling at this acknowledgment. Her age 
 and plain face were a sufficient security against 
 any attacks of that nature. I soon discovered her 
 foible to be a foolish belief that she inspired love in 
 all the men who looked at her. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick, my landlady, next appeared. She 
 was tall, handsome, and well made ; and she knew 
 it too well. Mrs. Myrick was so very obliging, 
 that I made her very sincere returns, with too little 
 reserve. The event will show plainly, that young 
 persons ought to be very cautious with new ac- 
 quaintances. Her behaviour has taught me the 
 value of inculcating so necessary a lesson. 
 
 After a slight refreshment, I retired to my bed- 
 room, which was very elegant. Adjoining was a 
 closet, adorned with pannels of looking-glass. The 
 hangings, like those of the apartment, were crim- 
 son damask, bordered with gold fringe. Several 
 pictures, representing children playing together, 
 and beautiful landscapes, between the glasses, had 
 a charming effect. But what pleased me most, was 
 a book-case at the farther end, containing a great 
 choice of new music-books. The toilet was well 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 169 
 
 arranged ; and in the boxes were expensive trin- 
 kets, in a good taste. This I concluded was the 
 delicate plan which Captain Ross had adopted of 
 making me a present ; but I locked them up until 
 an opportunity occurred for returning them. 
 
 When I arose in the morning, I unlocked and 
 unbolted my chamber-door, and my waiting-wo- 
 man entered. ‘ Lord Umadam,’ said she, in a wheed- 
 ling tone, 4 you are very timorous, to barricade 
 yourself thus. I have been several times at the 
 door, to know if you wanted me ; but the fear of 
 disturbing you made me wait till now.’ I answer- 
 ed with great indifference. Her countenance did 
 not please me. Such antipathies are many times 
 involuntary ; and from my childheod I was liable 
 to prepossessions of this nature ; though they are 
 often groundless, and always argue a weakness in 
 our understanding. We ought to guard against 
 such follies ; as there are many who, by an unfor- 
 tunate cast in their aspect, promise nothing com- 
 mendable, and yet their real worth surpasses that 
 of others whose countenances are very taking at 
 first sight. 
 
 After breakfast, I played an hour on the harpsi- 
 chord, and then walked to the window. The day 
 was delightful, and the streets were filled with 
 well-dressed people. After being so long abroad, X 
 was charmed with the neatness and elegance of the 
 women’s dresses. 
 
 Whilst I was engaged in examining every one 
 that passed by, somebody clasped me fast in their 
 arms, without my perceiving who it was that took 
 that liberty with me. My colour came, and I turn- 
 ed about very hastily, struggling to free myself 
 from such an unexpected embrace. ‘ It would be 
 no easy matter to surprise you,’ said Mrs. Myrick, 
 laughing ; 4 you are so much upon your guard, and 
 are so strong, there would be nothing got by romp- 
 ing with you.’ Upon my asking her pardon with 
 a smile, for being so rough in disengaging myself, 
 ‘I will pardon you this once,’ replied she in a jest- 
 
170 rosina; or, 
 
 ing way ; ‘ but another time I shall not be so easily 
 prevailed upon ; and even now, it shall only be on 
 this condition, that you do us the honour of dining 
 with us.’ Mrs. Myrick had a particular talent for 
 criticising persons. Dress, — figure, — countenance, 
 — nothing escaped her. The women seldom found 
 mercy at her hands. Those who were handsome 
 rarely escaped the most satirical strokes. 
 
 ‘ What do you think of her,’ cried Mrs. Myrick, 
 
 1 who comes this way, with that flaunting gait, and 
 false air of beauty ? Her fine complexion is only 
 borrowed from the mysteries of the toilet, as her 
 carriage is from the information of a much consult- 
 ed looking-glass. For all her affectation, she is 
 very plain, as you will own when you see her 
 nearer. Her hair tricked up as it is with ribbons, 
 is none of her own ; for she is as bald as a coot. 
 Speak the truth : would you not guess, by her at- 
 tendants and dress, that "her husband belonged to 
 the exchequer ? Far from it : he is cook to the 
 
 Duke of . Though her mother sold fruit, her 
 
 vanity aimed at his steward ; but she is very well 
 off in marrying his cook, who must cheat his mas- 
 ter to maintain her extravagance, and yet, in re- 
 turn for his too great indulgence, has never had a 
 quiet moment.’ 
 
 ‘ See that other lady,’ continued she, 1 who is 
 coming down the street. By the airs she gives her- 
 self, you would not imagine her to be five and 
 twenty. And yet she is turned of fifty. But the 
 best of the joke is, that she cannot prevail on her- 
 self to marry a man who has made his addresses to 
 her, for fear, she says, of dying in childbed.’ 
 
 ‘ But what cause has drawn such crowds of peo- 
 ple together ?’ inquired I. — ‘ What! child,’ answer- 
 ed Mrs. Myrick, ‘ do you not know that the king 
 goes in state to open parliament to-day ? We shall 
 have a fine view as he passes. You have seen his 
 majesty ?’ she added. 1 blushed, and my heart be- 
 gan to flutter, while I recollected my first seeing 
 his majesty. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 17 1 
 
 Soon the bishops, lords, and members of the 
 lower house, began to pass. Our window was well 
 adapted for observing them, and for being ob- 
 served. I was so intent in marking the person- 
 ages that passed, that I quite forgot that I was in a 
 plain undress. Mrs. My rick was full dressed, and 
 did not give me the least hint of it. 
 
 ‘ Good God !’ cried Mrs. Myrick, with a mysteri- 
 ous air, but such as betrayed how well she was 
 satisfied with her own dear self, 1 these men were 
 turned fools surely : one cannot be at a window, 
 but they stare one through. See how they eye us.’ 
 In effect, many eyes were directed towards us. — 
 ‘ Oh !’ said she, ‘ I am so very well known, my 
 pretty lady, that you must not wonder at what you 
 see. The king himself is pleased often to favour 
 me with a look. Not that I would have you to 
 think,’ continued the vain thing, * that I attribute 
 this to anything very flattering in myself,’ 
 
 Soon after, the king approached with his retinue, 
 amidst the cheers of the multitude. He looked up 
 to our window, and bowed. Imagining I ought to 
 return the compliment, I made a low curtsey, while 
 the state carriage drove off. ‘ There ! I told you 
 so,’ exclaimed Mrs. Myrick ; ‘ the king certainly 
 remembers my face. For heaven’s sake, madam,’ 
 continued she in a childish tone, ‘ let us retire ; I 
 can stand it no longer.’ Then flinging herself on a 
 sofa, she cried out, ‘ Lord ! madam, how you have 
 killed me with confusion. Nobody salutes the king. 
 Why, we will be taken for mere country creatures.’ 
 I did not relish this cut at my manners. 
 
 My vain, cajoling landlady proposed going down 
 to her apartment ; dinner-time, as she said, was 
 drawing near. I replied that it would be proper 
 for me to put on some head dress, since she would 
 not allow me to dress. ‘Oh! by no means,’ cried 
 Mrs. Myrick, ‘ you are killingly handsome in the 
 dress you are in. We shall have frequent oppor- 
 tunities of seeing you dressed ; for this once let us 
 enjoy you in your native charms.’ This compli- 
 
172 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 ment was answered in a proper manner on my side, 
 not forgetting her beauty, with which she seemed 
 mightily taken. 4 It is justly said,’ cried she, beg- 
 ging pardon for taking me in her arms, ‘ that wo- 
 men of quality are always distinguishable by their 
 behaviour. I have ever been fond of their com- 
 pany, as their conversation is so instructing.’ What 
 does not prejudice effect! As long as she took me 
 for a lady of family, as Captain Ross had said I 
 was, this was always her style ; but, the moment she 
 discovered the truth, she thought me a counterfeit. 
 
 Mr. Myrick was a professor of music, and a com- 
 poser to the Opera House ; and he therefore ima- 
 gined himself company for any one. He was 
 handsome, tall, and weil made ; always in fashion, 
 and very full of himself ; had a ready wit, and was 
 so happy in his little sallies, that the spleen was 
 banished wherever he came, which made his con- 
 versation much coveted. His satirical vein Mrs. 
 Myrick had acquired, and was very ready at biting 
 expressions ; but then she wanted the fine turn of 
 wit in applying them, of which she was a perfect 
 master; insomuch that he would frequently lash 
 people to their faces with so much art, adapting his 
 voice and expression so justly, that every one pres- 
 ent, except the person concerned, immediately dis- 
 covered who was aimed at. Our dinner was per- 
 fectly neat and elegant, Mr. Myrick acquitted 
 himself exceedingly well in doing the honours of 
 his house. 
 
 A relation of Mr. Myrick’s, about fifty years of 
 age, was in the company. Her humour was gay 
 and airy. She amused us with abundance of plea- 
 santries, accompanied with so much wit as threw a 
 veil over her age, and the malicious turns she fre- 
 quently gave to things. But then her folly betray- 
 ed itself in saying that in her younger days she 
 stood unrivalled in point of beauty ; and her dis- 
 course ran upon the extravagancies princes and 
 noblemen had committed in making their addresses 
 to her. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 173 
 
 I soon perceived that the company was agi eed 
 upon making me talk, with a design to learn some- 
 thing of my affairs ; but I came off very well, by 
 the concise answers I gave. The only secret for 
 baffling curiosity is to say little. There is no 
 hazard in being cautious ; whereas giving a loose 
 to the tongue overburdens the memory, and en- 
 dangers the contradicting one’s self. 
 
 A servant came and whispered to Mrs. Myrick. 
 She immediately turned towards me, and told me 
 in my ear that a gentleman inquired for me. Ima- 
 gining that it must be Captain Ross, I ordered the 
 servant to conduct him to my apartment. The ser- 
 vant, hearing me name that gentleman, assured me 
 that it was not he, but that she guessed by his 
 livery that it must be the Duke of Beaufort. The 
 name surprised me ; and Mr. Myrich perceiving it, 
 asked me if I had any reason for not receiving the 
 visit, for in that case it was only saying that I did 
 not dine at home. My answer was, that I did not 
 desire to be seen, as the person was an utter stran- 
 ger. Mrs. Myrick rose from table at this, bidding 
 me make myself easy, for she would speak to the 
 duke herself ; adding, with a mysterious air, that 
 she partly guessed at his errand. 
 
 After half an hour’s stay, Mrs. Myrick returned, 
 laughing heartily. ‘ Did I not tell you,’ said she, 
 ‘ that we were examined very narrowly when at 
 the window P Without vanity, our charms make 
 some noise in the world.’— ‘ Who doubts that ?’ re- 
 plied the husband ; ‘ all the court envies my hap- 
 piness, in possessing so lovely a creature as Mrs. 
 Myrick.’— ‘ None of your jests,’ continued she, half 
 angry at this ironical tone. It is certain I have had a 
 thousand soft things said to me just now by a very 
 gallant spark; though I know very well,"’ added 
 she, pointing slily to me, ‘ that Mrs. Boyd has the 
 best title to the compliments.' I said, ‘ How can I 
 be in any way concerned ? I am but just arrived 
 from the other end of the kingdom, have no ac- 
 quaintance ’ ‘ Alas ! that is no reason,’ said 
 
174 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 Mr. Myrick ; 4 thousands will soon beg to worship 
 at your shrine.’ 
 
 The wife, thinking perhaps this was carrying 
 Wrings too far, like many other women, was piqued 
 hear another extolled ; or she might be a little 
 
 C ’ous. She corrected the transport her husband 
 been guilty of, by saying, that if I had not 
 really been so very handsome, novelty was of great 
 service in this country ; that, nevertheless, it must 
 be supported by something more lasting than 
 beauty ; that a toast might draw admirers for a 
 while ; but when that was over, the object was as 
 easily neglected as it had been eagerly pursued. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick brought an example in favour of 
 her opinion. ‘You all saw,’ said she, ‘ the famous 
 Irish beauty, so much talked of two years ago at 
 London. She was a3 fair as alabaster, had fine 
 features, a good shape, and an air of grandeur. 
 Yet I could see nothing extraordinary about her. 
 But she was followed by all the world. One even- 
 ing I was at Vauxhall, when the Irish beauty was 
 walking there. I inquired what could cause such 
 a crowd. ‘ Good God ! madam, where do you come 
 from,’ replied the person, 4 not to know that the 
 beautiful lady from Ireland is come to town, and is 
 walking in the gardens ?’ I resolved to see for my- 
 self. I made my way through the crowd, and at 
 last saw this extolled beauty. Whether through 
 prejudice, not being according to my taste, or not 
 so handsome as they pretended, she did not please 
 me at all. I pitied the stupidity of the public, 
 which often lavishes its praises on objects that, 
 upon a nearer view, are scarcely tolerable. 
 
 ‘ Some weeks after, I was again at Vauxhall, 
 when I met her ; but she was now scarcely noticed. 
 She was exactly the same ; and methought she was 
 even handsomer than at first.’ — 4 No wonder,’ re- 
 plied the kinswoman ; 4 you liked her the better, 
 because nobody admired her; and so envy had 
 nothing to work on. If she had become a reigning 
 toast, and been surrounded with a crowd of admi- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 175 
 
 rers, she would have appeared as plain as at first. 
 The thing speaks for itself.’ 
 
 From one of her character, a sharp reply might 
 have been expected ; but she had her reasons for 
 being moderate. Interest, which often rules, and 
 to which she was an absolute slave, prevailed on 
 her to stifle her resentment. 
 
 The discourse ran again upon the duke’s visit. 
 She told us, that all she could gather from what he 
 said was, that, in walking past her house, the sight 
 of a young lady had made such an impression on 
 him, that he came to inquire after her. She added 
 that all this was expressed in so polite a manner, 
 that though she was prepared to answer this gal- 
 lant preamble as it deserved, yet she could not 
 avoid replying with some portion of respect, and 
 letting him know who I really was. 
 
 ‘ I apprehended, from the confusion in which 
 this nobleman retired,’ continued my landlady, 
 ‘ that without doubt he took Mrs. Boyd for one who 
 had her fortune to make, and that he need only ap- 
 pear to be well received ; a foolish presumption men 
 are often guilty of, who think that in visiting a wo- 
 man they do her an honour.’ 
 
 As I noticed Mr. Myrick was inclined to loiter in 
 my apartment, I ordered Phillis to light him down, 
 and then shut my door, with a firm determination 
 to avoid, in future, as much as possible, so odd a 
 medley of company. When going to bed, I heard 
 knocking at the door ; and it then being very late, 
 I was curious to know what kind of visitors were 
 coming. To effect this, I requested the maid to 
 carry the candles into another room, and then went 
 to the window. By the light of the street lamp, I 
 discovered a tall man, wrapped up in a military 
 cloak, standing at the door ; and, on listening, I 
 heard him ask if a young lady had not come to lodge 
 there that day. Finding by the answer that he 
 was not mistaken, he inquired if she could be 
 spoken with ; but the maid who had heard of the 
 duke’s visit, answered, in an angry tone, that the 
 
17G rosina;ou ? 
 
 lady could not be spoke with, and so shut the door 
 upon him. 
 
 I now drew back, and retired to bed, without re- 
 flecting much on this circumstance, and slept sound- 
 ly until late the following morning. After break- 
 fast, I amused myself with reading and drawing ; 
 and, about three o’clock, was just sitting down to 
 dinner, when Captain Boss sent in his name. He 
 was elegantly dressed ; and, though deeply preju- 
 diced in favour of another, I could not but acknow- 
 ledge that he was an exceedingly handsome and 
 accomplished gentleman. His address was now 
 peculiarly respectful, and even timid; and while 
 my maid was present, he constantly applied the 
 word Madam, and only talked of general things. I 
 insisted on his sitting down to dinuer, with which 
 he complied. 
 
 When alone after dinner, he began to express his 
 apprehensions lest I should be dull and solitary. 
 Upon this I related to him the visit and familiarity 
 of my landlady, described the dinner scene down 
 stairs, and related the debate that ensued respect- 
 ing the duke’s intended visit. I concluded by ex- 
 pressing my suspicions and dislike of Mrs. My rick. 
 
 Captain Boss applauded my discernment, ex- 
 pressed his entire ignorance of the landlady’s char- 
 acter, and offered to look out for a more suitable 
 lodging. He did not seem to relish the duke’s visit ; 
 and the tall stranger, who wanted to be introduced 
 to me, also gave him some uneasiness. I assured 
 him that no attractions should again draw me to 
 the window ; but I declined a change of situation 
 at present, being unwilling to determine on any 
 thing until I received letters from Lady Beckford. 
 
 Besuming his usual tranquillity, Captain Boss 
 came at last to the point that concerned me most. 
 ‘ I have undergone, dear lady,’ said he, ‘ a keen, 
 severe, and unrelenting investigation by Lord 
 Glenford. At first, he was so enraged at my 
 treachery and duplicity, as he called it, that I never 
 attempted to speak until the whirlwind of his pas- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 177 
 
 sion was nearly exhausted. He thought that I had 
 acted in concert with Lord Lemington, and had 
 gone over to Paris merely to conduct you safely to 
 London. ‘ No, my lord,’ said I, ‘ you are mistaken. 
 I acted in concert with no one. I have conducted 
 the young lady safely to England : I acknowledge 
 and glory in it. But, so far from acting under the 
 influence of my cousin, I would have given the 
 whole world that he had never seen or loved the 
 amiable Rosina. To see her, and not to admire her 
 — to hear her, and not to respect her — to know her, 
 and not to love her, is impossible. I struggled vio- 
 lently with myself : but her beauty, sense, and vir- 
 tue completely vanquished me ; and now I love her 
 beyond expression, and would cheerfully die for 
 her. Yet my love is pure and angelic : I respect 
 her feelings, and I respect the rights of my honour- 
 ed cousin/ 
 
 ‘‘Very pretty! very pretty indeed!’ exclaimed 
 Lord Gldnford ; * why, sir, I wid have a commis- 
 sion of lunacy taken out against you, eh? But 
 where did you land with this inexpressibly bewitch- 
 ing angel, or devil ?’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ At Portsmouth, my lord,’ I replied. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Oh !’ said he, winking on Frazer, ‘ I believe we 
 know the cause of all this strange matter.’ 
 
 ‘ I immediately recollected your adventure at 
 Richmond, and perceived that his lordship suspect- 
 ed that you are the real Rosina. I therefore took 
 no notice of this remark; and I soon retired, 
 pleased with extricating myself so well out of this 
 ticklish affair. But on reflection, I have become 
 uneasy at the adroit, good-humoured manner in 
 which his lordship passed to another subject. He 
 is a crafty, persevering politician, and has some 
 deep-laid plot in his head. I tremble for the re- 
 sult ; but he will find me tracing his track with all 
 the keenness of a blood-hound.’ • 
 
 ‘ Really, Captain Ross,’ he remarked, ‘ you alarm 
 me by using such a wild simile ; but I hope I am 
 not to be hunted down. But, captain, I am more 
 
 L 
 
178 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 disturbed by your kindness and attentions than by 
 Lord Glenford’s intrigues.’ — ‘ Ah !’ cried he, ‘ your 
 bare remembering them is too great a return. I 
 beg we may say no more of such trifles.’ — ‘ I look 
 upon them in a far different light,’ replied I, ‘ but 
 still some melancholy reflections overpower my 
 gratitude, and give me alarm. I have already said 
 that all the grandeur of the world shall never draw 
 me from the rules I have prescribed to myself ; and 
 
 if your views ’ ‘Now, once for all,’ replied 
 
 Captain Boss, ‘ my word and honour are your se- 
 curity, which, assure yourself, I am not capable of 
 violating ; and I consent to be looked upon as the 
 basest of mankind, if ever any behaviour of mine 
 contradicts this protestation I have the honour of 
 making to you.’ — ‘ On these terms,’ replied I, ‘ I 
 shall take a pleasure in seeing you.’ 
 
 ‘ Alas !’ said the captain, ‘ let that be no hinder- 
 ance. On the contrary, charming Bosina, such a 
 confidence would afford me the greatest consola- 
 tion. How happy should I be to possess it ! The 
 effects of love are as various as the persons it influ- 
 ences, and in me widely different from what they 
 are in many others. I was always of opinion, that 
 to love for one’s own sake merited no return; for 
 it is properly self-love, when one’s own happiness 
 is the end pursued ; as it is self-interest, not that 
 of the object beloved, which is consulted. The 
 proof of a disinterested passion is, to promote the 
 happiness of the beloved, even in opposition to our 
 own desires. Judge, then, lovely creature, what 
 kind of passion I entertain in your regard. It is 
 your satisfaction, it is your own happiness I study. 
 Yes,’ continued the captain, seizing my hand, ‘ you 
 shall see me strive as eagerly to promote your union 
 •with him you love, as if my own happiness depend- 
 ed on it. In losing you I lose all that is dear to me 
 in life ; but I shall have the comfort of reflecting 
 that in point of disinterestedness and generosity, I 
 stand unrivalled.’ 
 
 Sentiments so delicate and so refined raised an 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 179 
 
 admiration in my youthful breast that silence alone 
 could express. 4 Ah ! can you doubt my sincerity ?’ 
 continued the captain. ‘ You make me no answer. 
 Will you exclude me from the confidence you men- 
 tioned, as one of the favours I may expect ? The 
 sentiments I have just now expressed, however 
 commendable in the theory, you perhaps imagine 
 to be impracticable. My former behaviour, my 
 late protestations, all betray some secret views. 
 Yes, such I have, too lovely Bosina. Shall I ac- 
 knowledge them ?’ continued he, rising up. 4 Will 
 you be convinced of what I have said, if I pour out 
 the secret emotions of my soul ?* — ‘ Well then,’ re- 
 plied I, terribly alarmed, 4 what is it you hope for?’ 
 
 4 Ah ! miss,’ cried he, interrupting me, 4 hear what 
 I have to say. Do not suspect that, under an ap- 
 parent probity, a villain lies hid. I love you— I 
 adore you — your charms have vanquished me — and 
 to preserve you, I would sacrifice rank and fortune 
 a thousand times over ; but I would owe this hap- 
 piness to your own choice, and not to any importu- 
 nity of mine. I am persuaded that, had not your 
 inclination for my cousin prevented, me, I might 
 one day have been so happy as to gain your favour ; 
 but my honour controls my passion, though it does 
 not extinguish my hope. 
 
 The captain’s last words were uttered with so 
 much tenderness, that I was affected. 4 You are 
 not mistaken,’ replied I, with emotion, and yield- 
 ing one of my hands, which he bathed with his 
 tears, 4 you are not mistaken in relying on my gra- 
 titude. I will say more : were not my affections 
 already engaged, I know no one but yourself that 
 could succeed in fixing them .’ — 4 For the present 
 thi£ suffices,’ cried the captain, throwing himself at 
 my feet ; 4 I am less wretched : this acknowledg- 
 ment transports me. How ! charming Bosina, may 
 I flatter myself — ’ 4 Perfidious creature !’ cried a 
 
 well-known voice from the door, which was then 
 opening, but in a moment dashed to with violence. 
 
 The sound of the voice — the cruel apostrophe — 
 
ISO 
 
 ROSIN a; or, 
 
 the sudden disappearing of the vision — the posture 
 of the captain when thus surprised - all combined 
 to strike me as if I had received an electric shock. 
 I started up, and the next moment sunk upon the 
 sofa, crying out, ‘Alas! I am undone.’ Captain 
 Ross seemed no less surprised than myself, though 
 he offered me assistance. ‘ Ah ! sir,’ i cried, ‘leave 
 me and follow the earl. I am lost — miserable — 
 sunk in despair.’ 
 
 Without hesitating a moment, the captain darted 
 out of the room, and ran down the stairs. Just 
 then, Phillis entered my room in a violent agitation. 
 
 ‘ O heavens!’ said she, ‘ what is to be done P Cap- 
 tain Ross has just gone out with another officer, 
 who seems in such a fury, and they were disputing 
 so angrily, that I believe a duel will ensue.’ This 
 alarming news roused me. ‘My God!’ exclaimed 
 X, in a frenzy of fear, ‘ what will become of me, if 
 I lose all that is dear to me in life ? Go, Phillis, 
 run, and do not leave them until they come back.’ 
 — ‘ God forbid !’ replied my maid, with an air of 
 disdain that reminded me how I had betrayed my- 
 self, ‘ it would be very fine truly, to see young wo- 
 men running after such sparks. If I had imagined 
 I was hired for such purposes, I would never have 
 darkened the doors.’ 
 
 I now paced the room in an agony of despair not 
 to be described. Though Mrs. Myrick was absent 
 during the occurrence, yet, on her return, my prude 
 of a maid would not fail to represent in high colours 
 what had happened ; and I knew that women of 
 my landlady’s character show no mercy on such 
 occasions. I knew not what to do. Sometimes I 
 relied upon the captain’s sincere attachment to me ; 
 and then again all hope vanished, when I saw him 
 stand before the jealous and infuriated earl. I felt 
 much hurt at the sudden manner in which the lat- 
 ter had condemned me as false and inconstant. 
 Sometimes I thought of the kindness of Captain 
 Ross, and contrasted it with the long neglect of the 
 earl ; but when I viewed him in imagination a 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 1ST 
 
 bloody corpse, I involuntarily screamed. Mrs. My- 
 rick bounced into my room, and demanded the 
 meaning of what she had heard ; adding, that she 
 would not for the world that any accident should 
 occur wherein her name should be coupled in the 
 newspapers with an indelicate aff air ; for her house, 
 she said, was not designed for such purposes, and 
 she took it very ill that Captain Boss should intro- 
 duce under her roof any person whose character 
 was suspicious. 
 
 I felt so indignant at these insinuations, and at 
 the difficulty I felt in explaining the affair, that I 
 answered not. Mrs. Myrick, taking my silence for 
 acknowledgment of guilt, continued her discourse 
 in so high a strain, with so many bitter taunts about 
 my early marriage, and my disregard for the me- 
 mory of major Boyd, that at last my patience was 
 quite exhausted, and I said, with a piercing look, 
 ‘Pray, madam, leave my room. When Captain 
 Boss returns, I shall acquaint him with the civili- 
 ties I have received in the apartments he engaged 
 for me, and where I had expected to be free from 
 insult.’ My resolute tone and manner subdued her 
 most effectually, and she durst not reply. I then 
 retired into my bed-room, throwing the door after 
 me. There I lost myself in a train of distressing 
 reflections. 
 
 I upbraided myself for accepting Captain Boss’s 
 services, and for suffering myself to assume a false 
 name. I thought I could discern, in the apparent 
 candour of my new friend, much danger and arti- 
 fice. At least, it was plain he had intended to se- 
 clude me from the world, by giving me an address 
 which I could not publicly acknowledge. I re- 
 membered the shame and alarm I felt when once 
 questioned respecting my late husband, Major 
 Boyd ; and how the thought then struck me, that 
 the captain intended, by calling me Mrs. Boyd, to 
 drive me from society, that he might have me to 
 himself. Again I regretted my weakness in enter- 
 ing into such expensive apartments. By doing so. I 
 
1-32 H0S1NA ; OR, 
 
 had incurred obligations, and diminished my inde- 
 pendence, Since I had occupied them, I had suf- 
 fered temptations, intrusions, and insults ; and my 
 prospects in life were ruined, and my peace of mind 
 lost. 4 For,’ said I to myself, 4 what will not my 
 lover think ? He finds me in a lodging far above 
 my means to support— he discovers that I am 
 known by a fictitious name— he beholds another at 
 my feet : these circumstances are sufficient to con- 
 demn me. No, he will never return.’ 
 
 Three hours were spent in this melancholy con- 
 dition. No account of what had happened was 
 brought. The undoubted affection of Captain Ross, 
 convinced me that, had he not fallen in the combat, 
 he would not have left me a prey to uncertainty. 
 Being unable to bear this state of painful suspense, 
 I rung my bell. 4 Where is Phillis ?’ said I to a 
 servant who came.— 4 Gone to the tabernacle, ma- 
 dam,’ said the girl with a simper, and then shut the 
 door and walked off. 
 
 4 This won’t do,’ said I to myself : 4 1 am not to 
 remain here, and passively suffer the vulgar inso- 
 lence of every one that approaches me, down to the 
 very scullion. No; I have money, I am not desti- 
 tute — I will therefore fly where I may appear with- 
 out suspicion. I Gould speak French and Italian 
 well, I understood music, and I could draw a little. 
 These qualifications fitted me for a teacher; but 
 who would employ me merely on my own recommen- 
 dation P Thus did I see my wretched condition, 
 and bewail it. 
 
 About ten at night, Phillis made her appearance. 
 I looked up in anger, and ejaculated, 4 Begone 1’ — 
 4 Oh ! that is what I wish, if you will pay me my 
 wages ; for I never thought of being let down so.’ 
 But, afraid of my reply, she hastened out. In a 
 few minutes, my cook-maid appeared, ‘Well/ 
 thought I, 4 now for another trial of patience : but 
 I will be calm ; and it is as well that my servants 
 go before me.’ This woman was about fifty years 
 of age, very plump, good-humoured, and fresh 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 183 
 
 complexioned. She had always been very civil and 
 attentive, and I had treated her with tenderness. 
 She looked me in the face with compassion, and 
 said, 4 Dear me P do people live here on air ? Why, 
 your supper has been ready two hours. Bless me ! 
 you are all in tears ! Can ladies at your age have 
 anything to trouble them ? Mercy on us ! what 
 will become of others, if such sweet babes take 
 things to heart ? My last two mistresses were al- 
 ways snarling and throwing things about ; and this 
 here cries like a child. But what makes you, my 
 sweet lady, to take on thus P You want for nothing ; 
 and as for youth and beauty, you need not go from 
 home. What need you care for that nasty, imper- 
 tinent slut, Phillis ? I w'ould send her off with a 
 flea in her ear, and let her burst with the spleen.’ 
 
 I told her to leave me, for I did not intend to eat. 
 4 Then I must fast too,’ replied she, 4 for it would 
 not be right in me to gormandize whilst my good 
 mistress is in affliction. Well, well, it won’t kill 
 me : if I go without supper to-night, I’ll eat two 
 to-morrow.’ Peggy was leaving me, but I called 
 her back, to order her to go to supper. 4 Come, 
 then, said she, ‘we’ll compound the matter: if 
 you’ll pick a bit of chicken, and take a glass of wine, 
 I’ll eat as much as any two cooks in the parish. I 
 never knew any one that could out-fast me, except 
 the curate that christened me. Poor fellow ! he 
 had his failings, or he would have been quite a 
 saint ; but I wonder who’s perfect.’ 
 
 I tried to send Peggy away, losing all patience 
 with her nonsense. 4 Well, madam, I am gone,’ 
 said she, without stirring an inch ; 4 1 see foul wea- 
 ther brewing, and you must be obeyed. How one 
 may be deceived ! Your face speaks nothing but 
 good nature ; but I fancy you can scold as well as 
 my former mistress, the Honourable Miss Lambe.’ 
 — 4 Miss Lambe !’ said I, 4 where is she ?’ — 4 Why, 
 are you acquainted with her ?’ inquired Peggy. — 
 4 No,’ said I, dissembling the truth, 4 but a friend 
 of mine knows her.’— 4 So much the better if you 
 
1S4 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 are not acquainted, for she is a smooth-faced hypo- 
 crite, that never did a good turn in her life. But 
 she is now going to be married, and our village 
 will have a good riddance of her, for every summer 
 she plagued us out of our lives. As a family, we 
 are poor folks, but honest, and we are unreproach- 
 able, except one of my nieces, who was always a 
 spoiled child, and who has made noise enough. She 
 is very clever, and will yet make her fortune.’ 
 
 On this she went away. Let any one imagine 
 my surprise, to find my cook-maid to be my own 
 aunt ; for, by what she said, I knew her to be my 
 father’s sister. Good-natured Peggy soon return- 
 ed ; and, to please her, I ate a few morsels, and 
 sipped a drop of wine, at which she appeared quite 
 overjoyed, declaring that I had pleased her better 
 than if I had given her twenty guineas. When 
 alone, I resumed the consideration of my projects. 
 I was for discovering myself to my aunt, and going 
 back with her to my native village. But the scheme 
 of taking private lodging for a short time was the 
 favourite one, and I resolved to adopt it. Then I 
 took my pen, and wrote a short, indignant note to 
 the Earl of Lemington, assuring him that, since he 
 had thought fit to suspect my conduct, he should 
 never see me more. I wrote a longer one to Cap- 
 tain Ross, thanking him for all his civilities, and 
 assuring him that they were engraven on the tablet 
 of my memory. 
 
 My design was in the morning to take a hackney 
 coach, and to drive straight to the office of Sir 
 William Beckford, where I expected to meet with 
 old Evans, who had accompanied me to Calais, and 
 in whose honesty I could confide. Whilst sealing 
 my letters, a gentle tap came to my door. ‘ Come 
 in, Peggy,’ said I. The door opened, and— oh ! 
 what a surprise ! —the earl was at my feet. He had 
 seized my hand ; but he could articulate nothing. 
 I was confounded, overjoyed, speechless, and wept. 
 
 Captain Ross also was silent. When the first 
 emotions had subsided, he said, ‘ I have brought 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 IS5 
 
 you back a faithful lover. Appearances imposed 
 upon him a moment ; but jealousy cannot dwell in 
 an honourable mind. My cousin has often blushed 
 for his rashness, and accident only prevented the 
 penitent from being at your feet some hours ago. 
 Adieu. You are worthy of each other.’ Saying 
 this, the generous man retired ; and I was so much 
 affected by the presence of a long-lost lover, that 
 I was scarcely able to return his bow. 
 
 I felt an inexpressible joy to find myself acquit- 
 ted by the earl, and wished to hear it confirmed. I 
 had been long sick at heart at his seeming neglect 
 and unexplained silence : I now flattered myself I 
 should receive proofs of his constancy and love. I 
 felt a sweet, pleasant, indescribable kind of melan- 
 choly, that soothed my whole soul, after the tortur- 
 ing agitations I had suffered. How delightful is 
 pleasure, when we look only for misfortune. This 
 period of my life I love to reflect upon. Being thus 
 transported at seeing a lover whom I had given up 
 as lost, I forgot the humble posture he occupied. 
 When I desired him to rise, he pressed my hand, 
 and exclaimed, ‘ No, charming Rosina, I will here 
 die at your feet, if you refuse to pardon the cruel 
 outrage I have committed. I dared to think your 
 pure mind capable of perfidy. I thought my cousin 
 had snatched from me the only prize I value upon 
 earth. Alas! what did I not think f I was mad— 
 I was criminal — I should have known you obiter.’ 
 
 How amiable, how graceful did the earl appear 
 in my eyes ! A heart of marble would have been 
 moved by his accents. The earl again asked me if 
 I forgave him. ‘ Yes, my lord,’ answered I, hiding 
 my face, ‘ I do. Perhaps I should not have per- 
 mitted your cousin to utter his feelings in my pres- 
 ence : but he saved me from perpetual imprison- 
 ment— he restored me to my native country— to 
 serve me, he ventured to incur the anger of the 
 Earl of G-lenf ord — and he has always acted towards 
 me with the tenderness and delicacy of a brother.’ 
 — ‘ I know it all, adorable Rosina,’ exclaimed the 
 
186 rosina; or, 
 
 earl : ‘ he is the most honourable of men. But for 
 his justice and courage, I would have lost you for 
 ever. He loved you ; but I cannot blame him.’ 
 ‘You ought to expect no such thing,’ said I : ‘ dif- 
 ferent men have different tastes. But if I am suit- 
 ed to your fancy, pray, my lord, why did you never 
 write to me during the long time that I was tra- 
 versing the continent of Europe ?’ 
 
 ‘ There, my dear,’ he replied, ‘ I feared lest my 
 apparent coldness had offended you, and destroyed 
 your partiality in my favour. After my rencontre 
 with the Honourable Captain Lambe in France, I 
 received a mandate from his majesty’s secretary of 
 state for the foreign department, requiring my im- 
 mediate attendance at court. I suspected that this 
 proceeded from the influence of the Earl of Glen- 
 iord. I durst not disobey ; but I obtained the as- 
 surance of my friend, Sir William Beckford, that 
 he would watch over your safety. I left Paris with 
 a heavy heart, knowing that it then contained all 
 the pleasure that I desired on earth. I soon reach- 
 ed London, and waited upon his majesty, who re- 
 ceived me graciously, and entrusted me with a 
 secret mission to the court of Denmark. Here I 
 remained miserable. I wrote to you twenty times, 
 hut no answer was returned. Still I believed in 
 your constancy, for my uncle was living at Paris, 
 and his influence with the unprincipled government 
 there was sufficient to get my letters intercepted. 
 When I closed my mission, I expected permission 
 to seek you upon the continent ; but I was ordered 
 to join my regiment at Bristol. But when the 
 grand review was over, I received leave of absence. 
 I was on the point of embarking, when my faith- 
 ful Villars told me that you had come to Richmond 
 with Captain Ross, and stranger still, that you were 
 on friendly terms with my uncle, the Earl of Glen- 
 ford, as informed by his footman. Tortured, I 
 hurried back to Richmond, and then came to town 
 in search of Captain Ross. I met him at our club- 
 house in St. James’ street. He saluted me with a 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 187 
 
 cold civility. I felt enraged with jealousy, and 
 immediately retired with a friend. I ordered Vil- 
 lars to watch him. He soon discovered his haunts, 
 and even got a glimpse of you. As soon as I heard 
 this, I came last night to see you, and to obtain an 
 explanation, but was told that you could not be 
 spoken with. An elderly, sober-looking woman 
 came to the door. She told me that you saw no- 
 body but Captain Boss, and that on the preceding 
 evening you had refused admittance to a grand 
 young nobleman. I insisted upon seeing you ; but 
 she replied, in a mysterious way, that the captain 
 and you were alone, and that she durst not disturb 
 you. Five guineas removed all obstacles. She 
 grew wondrous kind, and hinted that Captain Ross 
 was the present favourite, and was very attentive 
 in comforting you for the lose of a husband. ‘ A 
 husband !’ I exclaimed, ‘ why the lady I mean was 
 never married .’— 4 Perhaps not,’ said your maid, 
 significantly ; 4 nevertheless she calls herself Mrs. 
 Boyd. But come along, you shall judge for your- 
 self. I followed Phillis. I heard your voice, I 
 
 opened the door, and But you can forgive the 
 
 madness of love.* 
 
 Oh S how this explanation delighted me ! Here 
 was my noble lover restored to me, pure, faithful, 
 and devoted. I could not therefore help acknow- 
 ledging that I was satisfied and happy. However, 
 I repressed the ardour of my feelings so far as to 
 remind him that it was past twelve o’clock. Ever 
 complaisant, he took the hint, rose, and kissed my 
 hand. I thought I might allow him a kiss, and 
 turned my cheek to him, but with so much confu- 
 sion, that he easily perceived it was the first favour 
 I had ever bestowed on any man. 
 
 I had experienced such violent emotions during 
 this day, that when I retired to bed, I could not 
 sleep. Towards morning, I sunk into a profound 
 repose. About noon, Peggy, alarmed at my long 
 silence, rapped at my door, and awoke me. 
 
 I had just sat down to drink a cup of coffee, 
 
188 ROSINAJOR, 
 
 when Villars came in, and delivered me a note from 
 his master. It was tender and glowing, and I 
 could scarcely refrain from pressing it to my bo- 
 som. It informed me that he was obliged to attend 
 his majesty’s levee that day, but he would be dis- 
 engaged in the evening. I was pleased to see my 
 old friend Villars, whom I invited to be seated ; and 
 my mind being at ease, I asked him how he liked 
 Denmark. Copenhagen, he said, could neither pro- 
 duce horses, beef, beer, dogs, or girls, half so good 
 as those in England. He had been in America ; 
 and even the cleared country he thought more com- 
 fortable than the Danish isles. 
 
 4 What were you doing in America ?’ said I.— * 
 4 Fighting, madam.’ ‘ What made you leave the 
 army?’ ‘ It was my good fortune,’ he answered, 
 4 to be out one day in a reconnoitering party that 
 my master commanded ; when we were suddenly 
 attacked by one of the French advanced posts. 
 Our fellows were panic-struck, and ran away. 
 Only two men and myself stood by the earl, who 
 fought like a lion. At last, he fell beside our two 
 brave companions, who were killed. I resolved to 
 die also on the same spot ; but another- party of 
 our men, with the fugitives who had rallied, ap- 
 pearing, the enemy fled. The earl, who had only 
 been stunned, soon recovered ; but he still bears a 
 slight mark of the blow on his left temple.’ 
 
 ‘ Then you were glad,’ resumed I, ‘to revisit old 
 England ?’ — ‘ Surely we were ; and the pretty ladies 
 at Bristol did their utmost to amuse my master, 
 who has always been of a melancholy turn.’ I 
 asked Villars to give me a sketch of the society he 
 saw at Bristol. 
 
 4 There are,’ said he, 1 a great number *)f very 
 genteel ladies at Bristol ; and thev are not inferior 
 to those of London. Mrs. Russell is a widow lady 
 of great wealth and attractions. Her levee is 
 crowded with admirers ; but her partiality for my 
 master was very apparent ; and I have often heard 
 people wonder how the earl could remain so insen- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 1S9 
 
 sihle to her attractions. He dined often at the 
 table of Sir Nicholas Sutton, whose lady is a brown 
 beauty, of lively wit and elevated parts. He was 
 always well received by the late mayor, whose hos- 
 pitality did honour to the city. He has several ac- 
 complished daughters. 
 
 I had just risen from dinner, when the earl came 
 in. I thought him more amiable than ever. His 
 dress was peculiarly splendid, and set off his fine, 
 well-proportioned limbs to the best advantage. 
 Delight sparkled in his eyes ; and he commenced a 
 conversation at once lively, tender, and affecting. 
 How dear and fleeting are the moments spent with 
 those we love ! I never thought of the time, until 
 Peggy reminded me that tea had been ready long 
 ago. The earl apologized for deranging my affairs ; 
 but when I asked him, with a smile, if he would 
 partake with me, he gladly consented. 
 
 After tea, I related all my adventures in the con- 
 vent, in the viscountess’ family, in Switzerland, 
 and, lastly, with Captain Ross. When I had con- 
 cluded my narration, which he frequently inter- 
 rupted with exclamations of indignation against 
 the Honourable Miss Lambe, he asked a thousand 
 questions relative to Captain Ross; and I easily 
 discovered that the detail gave him pain. But he 
 did the captain justice so far as to assure me, that, 
 though he was his rival, yet he relied so much on 
 his honourable feelings, that, should circumstances 
 require it, he would not hesitate a moment to leave 
 me in his power. I answered, with a smile, that I 
 had a principle within that would never cease to be 
 a faithful guardian. 
 
 The earl then related his adventures in the fol- 
 lowing words : — ‘ On my return from Denmark, 
 his majesty showed me such marks of favour, as 
 were highly gratifying ; while the order to rejoin 
 my regiment was communicated with such unusual 
 official politeness, as, had you been here, would 
 have rendered me quite happy. On the contrary, 
 a profound melancholy seized me on my arrival at 
 
190 
 
 KOSINA ; OH, 
 
 Bristol. During some weeks, I never quitted my 
 chamber. My spirits, my appetite, and my strength 
 progressively decreased. My faithful Yillars be- 
 came alarmed, and prevailed upon an eminent phy- 
 sician to call upon me. When the doctor sent up 
 his name, I hesitated, and reprimanded Yillars se- 
 verely for his officiousness ; but common politeness 
 induced me to receive my unexpected visitor. The 
 physician was a little, merry, stout, round-faced 
 Welch gentleman. His jocose manners diverted 
 me. He said I wanted air and exercise, and insist- 
 ed on accompanying him to his country box, where, 
 he said, I should taste good wine, and see some 
 pretty women, the best remedies in hypochondriac 
 cases. This gentleman afterwards insisted on in- 
 troducing me to the most fashionable families in 
 town, and persuaded me to attend all parades, and 
 ter take the command on field-days. In short, this 
 friendly and judicious physician soon restored my 
 health, and gave me a relish for society. I attend- 
 ed the parties of several amiable and elegant ladies, 
 particularly at the house of the chief magistrate of 
 the city, who had a fine daughter, very much re- 
 sembling you, except in temper and height. 
 
 4 1 mentioned before that the mayor had several 
 daughters. The eldest was extremely handsome, 
 witty, and well educated; and her mother was 
 deeply offended, because I refused to do justice to 
 the merits of her darling child. A rich merchant, 
 whose father I knew at Edinburgh, had long sigh- 
 ed after this blooming maid, but was doomed to 
 sigh in vain. All at once, he was taken into fa- 
 vour, his suit was re lewed and accepted, and he 
 was put into possession of the happiness he sought. 
 The bride had always treated me with good humour 
 and politeness ; and as I knew Mr. Smith, I became 
 a frequent witness of their mutual happiness. 
 
 4 Scotchmen, I think, are inclined to jealousy : at 
 least, I have often seen them tormented with this 
 demon. I soon perceived that my friend Smith in- 
 dulged in injurious suspicions. I therefore man- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 191 
 
 aged my visits with discretion, and often refused 
 invitations under various pretences. My friend 
 was too sharp sighted not to suspect the real cause. 
 A short time after, he explained himself, and, with- 
 out allowing me to reply, compelled me to promise 
 to see him as often as formerly. I was satisfied, 
 and promised all he required, agreeably to the laws 
 of friendship. 
 
 ‘ Mr. Smith being very rich, and his wife very 
 gay, they entertained much company. One very 
 stormy morning, he called at my lodgings, and in- 
 sisted I should step into his carriage, and accom- 
 pany him to his house, where he expected a snug 
 party to dinner. I complied ; we dined, played at 
 chess, and spent the afternoon in the best humour 
 imaginable. Some more company joined, when it 
 was proposed to form a few whist-tables. I took 
 this opportunity to leave the room, and stepped 
 into a dressing-room to wash my hands, and to en- 
 j oy a little fresher air. Adj oining was a bed-room, 
 in which was a good fire ; and, as the weather was 
 very cold, I shut the door, and walked to the fire. 
 The bed-curtains were drawn, and the room was in 
 good order, being designed for a friend who had 
 arrived that day from Liverpool. 
 
 ‘ I was standing quietly with my back to the fire, 
 thinking of quite another thing than an affair of 
 gallantry, when I heard somebody groan, I asked 
 who was there. A voice, which 1 knew to be Mrs. 
 Smith’s, answered, ‘ Dear colonel, I am very ill — I 
 am like to faint.’ I instantly sprung forward to 
 her assistance, and, drawing aside the curtains, 
 found she had been supporting herself upon the 
 bed, from which she was sinking down upon the 
 floor. I snatched her in my arms, and at that in- 
 stant the door was thrown open, and Mr. Smith 
 entered. ‘ My God :’ he exclaimed, ‘ what is this ? 
 — I am betrayed — she is false — ah, heavens ! Vil- 
 lain,’ he continued, begone — fly from my presence 
 — and may the bitterest curse of an injured man 
 pursue you.’ I lost all presence of mind. I knew 
 
192 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 not how to appease him, or how to commence my 
 justification. This silence confirmed all his suspi- 
 cions. His jealousy blinded him — he would hear 
 nothing — he roared in a horrible manner, and load- 
 ed me with every vile epithet. 
 
 4 Under these cruel circumstances I retired and 
 found what I suspected to be the case, for all the 
 company in the drawing-room had heard his im- 
 precations. A gentleman asked me what was the 
 meaning of the outcries they had heard. I shrug- 
 ged up my shoulders, and answered, 4 Some family 
 dispute, I think.’ In a few minutes Mr. Smith 
 joined the company, and, in passing my chair, 
 whispered an order, in harsh terms, for me to leave 
 his house instantly. As a gallant admiral, with 
 whom I was conversing, overheard him, I deter- 
 mined not to comply. Nevertheless, as I did not 
 think proper to run the hazard of Smith’s frantic 
 passion, I stepped into another room for my sword. 
 Poor Mrs. Smith, on my return, showed me, by a 
 glance of her eye, how much she was concerned at 
 my presence ; but I was bound in honour not to 
 suffer myself to be intimidated by threats, when 
 denied the liberty to justify myself. The eyes of 
 the whole company were upon me ; but I sat down 
 to whist with all the coolness I could assume, 
 though internally I was suffering the cruellest agi- 
 tations. 
 
 4 After playing a rubber, to show I did not care 
 for the man’s fury, I left the house. Whilst I stay- 
 ed, he was to be pitied, as he gave sufficient proofs 
 of the greatest anguish of mind. I was grieved for 
 the accident, and knew not how to clear myself. 
 The next morning, the admiral, my friend, called 
 to inquire if I did not mean to challenge Mr. Smith. 
 4 No,’ said I ; 4 1 do not blame him : he is suffering 
 under a cruel delusion. On the contrary, I will al- 
 ways do justice to his good qualities.’ But I could 
 never prevail on this gentleman to believe me in- 
 nocent of a base crime, though he called it a good 
 joke. Mrs. Smith, in the meantime, suffered much 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 
 
 193 
 
 from her husband’s jealousy and bad temper. At 
 length, her friends interfered ; when, after she had 
 taken the most solemn oaths in proof of her inno- 
 cence, he agreed to live with her, provided she would 
 never see me more.’ 
 
 My lover related this affair with so much can- 
 dour, that I no longer suspected his fidelity. Our 
 conversation then turned upon other matters ; and, 
 after enjoying one of the happiest evenings of my 
 life he took his departure. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "VTEXT morning I arose, after spending a night 
 J_\ rendered pleasing by a series of the most deli- 
 cious dreams. My lover \fras never absent from 
 my imagination, and my hopes were exceedingly 
 buoyant. Notwithstanding the many obstacles 
 that existed to my final union with the earl, yet I 
 flattered myself with the bewitching chimera. 
 Every thing appears possible that is eagerly desired. 
 
 Just as I had entered my breakfast-room, the 
 earl appeared. He apologized for his early visit, 
 by saying that he felt a strong presentiment, that I 
 was not safe, and could not be easy till assured of 
 my happiness. I but felt gratified at this fresh 
 mark of my lover’s tenderness. I said, ‘ but seri- 
 ously, my dear lord, I am not so happy as I could 
 wish. Your kindness only renders my present 
 situation supportable. These apartments are too 
 expensive for my limited circumstances, and I am 
 afraid that Captain Ross will refuse to take back 
 the rent he has paid for them. I dislike such pecu- 
 niary obligations. Neither has my landlady beha- 
 ved to me with becoming decency and respect. I 
 should therefore prefer another situation, and 
 should be happy to hear your lordship’s opinion on 
 the subject.’ 
 
 The earl appeared thoughtful. At last, he said 
 that there was much prudence in what I said, and 
 that he would take a day or two to consider the 
 subject. He begged me to make myself easy, as 
 
 M 
 
104 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 his own happiness depended upon his consciousness 
 of mine. 
 
 When Peggy had removed the tea-hoard, the 
 earl remarked that she appeared a very decent per- 
 son. It is not easy to conceal any thing from those 
 we love ; so I informed his lordship that she was 
 my aunt, and how I had made the discovery. I 
 then represented to him the misfortunes of Mrs. 
 Forbes, who was shut up in the convent of Amiens, 
 and begged that he would use his influence with 
 the British ministry to obtain her liberation. He 
 promised every thing, and took his leave with re- 
 gret. Indeed, he acknowledged the difficulty he 
 felt in tearing himself from my presence. 
 
 I had taken up a little work to amuse myself, 
 when my landlady entered. I received her with 
 coldness ; when she began to excuse herself for the 
 unmannerly expressions she had employed, alleg- 
 ing that Phillis’s malicious insinuations had pro- 
 voked her. She added that accident had unfolded 
 to her the baseness of that woman’s character who 
 had had three base-born children by different fa- 
 thers. I replied dryly that neither my late maid’s 
 character nor her malice were matters of any con- 
 sequence to me. Mrs. Myrick, however, begged 
 my pardon with so much humility and apparent 
 sincerity, that I could not help being civil ; for I 
 am of a forgiving temper. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick now went to another extreme : she 
 invited me to dine with her, in ratification of her 
 pardon. I was not yet mistress of that faculty 
 that teaches us politely to get rid of troublesome 
 people, so I could not refuse her. Besides, I ex- 
 pected the earl shortly after dinner-time, which 
 would afford me an excuse for leaving the com- 
 pany. 
 
 When going down to dinner, Villars gave me a 
 note from his master, in which he stated that impe- 
 rious and unforeseen circumstances would preclude 
 him from the happiness of seeing me for at least 
 two days. I wrote a brief reply, lamenting the de- 
 
TI1E VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 1*5 
 
 privation of the pleasure I had anticipated in see- 
 ing hirn that evening, and assuring him I would 
 count the minutes until he again appeared. 
 
 Mr. Myrick entertained our little party with a 
 thousand diverting stories. He rallied me with 
 great pleasantry on my recluse mode of life, ob- 
 serving that I was qualifying myself for a nunnery. 
 He ended by proposing a party to the opera on the 
 following evening, and politely presented me with 
 a ticket. He said the house would be very brilli- 
 ant ; as the king and queen, who had not attended 
 the opera for two years, w T ere expected. I suffered 
 myself to be persuaded to go. Women were al- 
 ways inclined to attend assemblies where grand 
 displays of fashion were made. 
 
 Just as we had sat down to tea, Captain Boss 
 was announced. Mr. Myrick favoured us with 
 some sweet pieces of music on the violin, of which 
 instrument he was a perfect master : and two young 
 ladies, his pupils, sung a few most delightful airs. 
 After this, I retired to my own apartment. The 
 captain seemed very desirous to converse with me ; 
 but he was awkward and diffident. He knew my 
 nice sense of decorum ; and I must do him the jus- 
 tice to say, never was a lover more careful not to 
 offend. I wished him a good night with peculiar 
 cheerfulness, and with which he seemed so highly 
 satisfied, that I dare say he slept well upon it. 
 Lovers are very foolish: the least thing dejects, 
 and a mere nothing raises them again. 
 
 The next day, I rose extremely gay. How easily 
 we become acquainted with a life of pleasure ! I 
 enjoyed, in anticipation, the highest pleasure at 
 visiting the Opera House. Like a great many wo- 
 men, my looking-glass did not a little contribute to 
 my good humour ; for, in those days, it was a dan- 
 gerous flatterer. I had a mind to be fine that day, 
 though I cannot say that I had any particular wish 
 to please. 
 
 In the evening, when the ceremonies of my toilet 
 were over, I walked up and down my room, very 
 
1C6 BOSINA; OB, 
 
 well pleased with myself. I own my weakness, and 
 that in my own conceit I said it would be no mis- 
 fortune for the earl to have such a wife. In short, 
 I thought myself handsome ; and perhaps, to say 
 the truth, very few could surpass me. 
 
 When Mr. and Mrs. Myrick came into my apart- 
 ment, the husband highly extolled my charms ; but 
 his wife blamed the make of my gown, thought my 
 stays did not sit easy, and that my head-dress was 
 not sufficiently tasteful. She was a woman, and I 
 easily forgave her, and entered the coach that was 
 waiting in high spirits. 
 
 I was surprised at the crowds that surrounded 
 the Opera House, the noise and confusion amongst 
 the coachmen. At the stage-door we were joined 
 by a young gentleman of genteel appearance, be- 
 longing to the Bank of England, whom Mr. My- 
 rick had engaged to attend us, as he himself was 
 professionally engaged. This youth was about 
 nineteen or twenty years of age, about six feet four 
 inches in height, with a very boyish face. I felt 
 awkward with our young esquire, who stooped 
 down to listen to us as if we were children. 
 
 On entering the house, my eyes ran over the ob- 
 jects that surrounded me. The prospect was en- 
 chanting, and my whole attention was absorbed 
 with the scene. The sight, however, humbled my 
 vanity. Till that moment, I had considered myself 
 the prettiest and best organized woman in the 
 world, and flattered myself that I could have 
 scarcely any equals. I now recovered, with a sigh, 
 from this error. The beauty, taste, and magnifi- 
 cence that glittered in the boxes around me, struck 
 me with surprise ; *and I then turned my eyes upon 
 myself, in order to draw a parallel betwixt those 
 ladies and me. What disparity ! I discovered a 
 stiffness in my carriage very different from the easy, 
 charming manners of ladies of distinction. Though 
 I disapproved of the rouge on their cheeks, yet I 
 could not help acknowledging its astonishing effects 
 when seen with candle-light. I imagined that I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 107 
 
 must look rather pale, and excused a practice which 
 certainly rendered one more agreeable. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick now whispered, ‘ See, my dear, how 
 charming the Duke of Beaufort looks to-night. 
 You should not have rejected the visits of so charm- 
 ing a man.’ My curiosity was excited, and I said, 
 4 Where is he 4 Yonder,’ she replied, leaning 
 against the middle pillar.’ I directed my glass to- 
 wards the place, and perceived a fine, noble-look- 
 ing man, whose eyes were fixed on our box. He 
 blushed -when he perceived I was looking at him, 
 and I also blushed at my own boldness. I saw a 
 great number of glasses directed towards our box. 
 Unable to stand against such powerful artillery, I 
 rose up, and took my seat behind Mrs. Myrick, 
 who was much displeased at what she termed my 
 childishness. 
 
 I was highly gratified with the good taste, feel- 
 ing, and pathos displayed by one of the singers, 
 who, though an Englishman, pleased me much more 
 than any of the performers I had heard in Italy. 
 Mrs. Myrick said, 4 My dear, why do you not reply 
 to his tirace ?’ I looked up, and saw the Duke of 
 Beaufort standing beside me. ‘ Mrs. Myrick,’ said 
 he, with a respectful bow, ‘ has promised me the 
 honour of an introduction.’ I bowed and was 
 silent. ‘ How does the performance amuse you ?’ 
 he inquired — ‘ Very much,’ I answered. — ‘ What do 
 you think of that lady with the large white plume ?’ 
 he asked, on perceiving that I examined her atten- 
 tively.—* I think her very charming,’ I said ; 4 her 
 open, benevolent, cheerful countenance, pleases me 
 beyond expression.’ — * I am delighted with this just 
 and candid opinion,’ replied he : * few women do 
 justice to their own sex, particularly when there 
 exists any thing approaching to a rivalry in beauty. 
 You have expressed that lady’s real character in 
 very few words. Her history is peculiarly inter- 
 esting ; and, if an opportunity should occur, I will 
 relate it with the greatest pleasure.’ I thanked 
 him very briefly. His conversation and behaviour 
 
19$ ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 were respectful ; but he was a stranger, and I felt 
 no wish to extend my connexions or conquests. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick evinced the highest degree of pride 
 and exultation on seeing a peer at her side. She 
 flirted, simpered, laughed, and was very witty. I 
 was melted into tears at the grief and suffering of 
 Iphigenia. I compared her sentiments with those 
 I felt for the earl, and became moved, thoughtful, 
 and anxious. The duke, more inured to theatrical 
 exhibitions, or less attentive, smiled at the sincerity 
 of my sorrow. ‘How happy would be that lover,’ 
 he whispered, ‘ for whom you could shed such pre- 
 cious tears !’ — ‘ Really,’ I replied, ‘ your grace must 
 be very cruel to laugh at the best feelings of our 
 nature. But perhaps you are above all common 
 weaknesses.’ — ‘Ah ! no, madam,’ he rejoined, ‘ my 
 heart is not marble. I wish it were: then, most 
 charming angel, I should have escaped the tor- 
 ments I have suffered, and am yet doomed to suf- 
 fer, since I first saw the beaming light of those fine 
 eyes.’ Such compliments admitted of no reply, so 
 I again turned ipy eyes towards the stage. 
 
 At this moment a gentleman appeared at our 
 box-door, and beckoned to the duke, who immedi- 
 ately followed him. The next minute, I saw his 
 grace entering into his majesty’s box, whose eyes 
 seemed directed towards me. How weak are wo- 
 men ! How I was perplexed by the suggestions of 
 self-love ! I knew I was handsome and well dress- 
 ed : and how many conjectures did I draw from 
 having excited the notice of royalty. But my 
 vanity was soon punished ; for his grace presently 
 returned, when I found that the king had merely 
 asked my name. However, knowing that my name 
 was only a fictitious one, I stood this reverse of 
 self-love with great magnanimity. 
 
 The duke resumed his seat beside me, and said 
 the politest things imaginable.. And I candidly 
 confess that, though his discourse excited no emo- 
 tions in my heart, yet I received them with plea- 
 sure. The wisest of us all are not insensible to 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 109 
 
 flattery, when accompanied with taste and delicacy. 
 I could easily perceive that the eyes of several peo- 
 ple were directed towards us ; and I felt some 
 triumph in fixing the attentions of such a hand- 
 some and distinguished nobleman. But, O heavens ! 
 how was I startled when, looking above me, I saw 
 the Earl of Lemington leaning over the adjoining 
 box, as if observing us ; but the moment he catch- 
 ed my eye, he raised himself up with great stateli- 
 ness, and scornfully looked another way. His 
 grace, who saw me change colour, asked what was 
 the matter. 4 1 am subject,’ replied I, ‘to fits of 
 giddiness. I shall be worse, and must retire.’ 
 
 I arose in confusion. The duke presented me 
 his hand; and Mrs. Myrick followed, grumbling at 
 my indispositions, that had prevented her from 
 seeing the whole of the performance. Our tali 
 protector strided away to seek a coach; but his 
 grace pressed me so much to accept of his, while his 
 servants stood uncovered with the door open, and 
 Mrs. Myrick pinching me slyly for hesitating, that 
 at last I consented, and stepped up. 
 
 I intended to write an explanation to my lover 
 when I got home; but, on alighting, who should 
 receive me but the duke himself. We had driven 
 rapidly, and how he had contrived to precede us X 
 could not tell. He offered me his hand, with an air 
 of concern for my indisposition, which was visible 
 in my face. I made use of this pretext to get rid 
 of him, by saying that I found it necessary to re- 
 tire to my bed-chamber. He approved of this reso- 
 lution, and offered to send an eminent physician 
 for my relief. I declined his obliging offer with 
 thanks. 
 
 I now thought I should be quiet ; but I had Mrs. 
 Myrick’ s officiousness to endure still. The honour 
 and distinction I had procured her made her most 
 profuse in her compliments ; but I cut her as short 
 as possible, and told Peggy not to disturb me with 
 messages of any kind. As soon as they had with- 
 drawn, I bolted my chamber-door. 
 
200 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 Who can imagine my trouble and distress? In- 
 nocent and affectionate as I was, how many causes 
 of suspicion had I not furnished. The earl is as- 
 sured that I live in retirement, t lament his tem- 
 porary absence, and undertake to count the tedious 
 minutes until he returns. On the contrary, he 
 finds me at the opera, and in the company of a wo- 
 man of whom I had been complaining bitterly. He 
 sees me engaged with a young nobleman, and at- 
 tentive to his discourse. When discovered, I am 
 overwhelmed with the confusion of guilt : I fly 
 from his presence, but accompanied by my new ad- 
 mirer, whose carriage I accept. These circum- 
 stances were more than sufficient to enrage a man 
 who had already given proofs of his jealousy. Mine 
 was, therefore, a cruel case. From the time I first 
 knew myself, I had enjoyed nothing like perma- 
 nent happiness ; one accident continually followed 
 another ; I had not one moment’s rest ; my hopes 
 were always blasted ; and, at the present time, I 
 was surrounded by the elements of trouble. 
 
 In a short time, Peggy told me that a nobleman 
 desired to see me. ‘ Did I not tell you,’ said I, 
 ‘ that I will see nobody ? Do as I bid you ; fail 
 not on your peril.’ When she was gone, I wrote a 
 letter to my lover, detailing, in the most ingenuous 
 manner, all the circumstances that led me to the 
 opera, and caused the attentions of the duke. I 
 expressed the uneasiness I felt at the series of an- 
 noyances I suffered, and hinted my wish to retire 
 to the country. 
 
 After my letter was sealed, I began to reflect on 
 the importunate visitor that Peggy had spoken of. 
 ‘ The duke,’ I said to myself, would never think of 
 disturbing me by soliciting a personal interview. 
 It must therefore,’ thought I, ‘ have been the earl. 
 A little reflection has cured him of his jealousy ; 
 and, on seeing me going home indisposed, he has 
 fled to my house with concern, and has been impa- 
 tient to repair the injury that his cruelty and rash- 
 ness had inflicted.’ I then regretted the orders I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 201 
 
 had given ; as an interview with my lover would 
 have restored my peace, and perhaps sealed my 
 happiness. But perhaps the earl would pass a fa- 
 vourable judgment on his disappointment, and 
 would not condemn me in his heart. Pardon me, 
 
 0 best of husbands, the injustice of this apostro- 
 phe ! Often did I repeat it ; but I now retract it, 
 as far as it concerns the most generous of men. 
 
 I passed the night in great anxiety, and rose 
 early, expecting eveiy moment the appearance of 
 the earl, or of Villars, to whom I might give my 
 letter. Immediately after breakfast, Peggy in- 
 formed me of a visitor, and asked me if she was 
 still to deny me. I bid her show the gentleman 
 up stairs. But, instead of the earl, a strange gen- 
 tleman, of noble figure and prepossessing aspect, 
 appeared. He called himself Forbes, and said that 
 he waited upon me to attempt to express his feel- 
 ings for my generous exertions in behalf of his 
 wife, who looked upon me as her good angel, who 
 was destined to effect her deliverance. I received 
 the gentleman with great politeness. His person 
 and address justified the warm encomiums which 
 my friend St. Agnes had bestowed upon him. I 
 eagerly enquired after his mistress, and begged to 
 know whether his affairs were likely to terminate 
 favourably; when he offered to relate his tale, so 
 as to give me a correct idea of existing circum- 
 stances. 
 
 NARRATIVE OF ST. AGNES' HUSBAND. 
 
 ‘ It is to you, my dear madam,' said Mr. Forbes, * I owe 
 the hope which renders existence supportable. But for 
 you, the lovely and faithful woman whom I am proud to 
 call my spouse would never have heard of my love and 
 truth. Without your generous exertions, I would never 
 have discovered the place of her confinement. We would, 
 unknown to each other, have sunk into the cold tomb, 
 the victims of craft and of cruelty. 
 
 ‘ You know, miss, in what a sudden and cruel manner 
 
 1 was snatched from the embraces of a beloved wife. Her 
 cries w r ould have disarmed the ferocity of tigers ; and, 
 had my strength equalled my rage, I would certainly 
 
202 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 have annihilated the ministers of injustice and oppres- 
 sion. But my single arm could do nothing. I whs over- 
 powered, gagged, and thrown into a coach, which in a 
 short time conveyed me to the Bastile. I almost bade 
 farewell to hope, while I welcomed despair. 
 
 During the first day and night, no person entered into 
 my dark and narrow cell. I would have given kingdoms 
 for a drink of water. The fever in my blood, the internal 
 heat I felt, almost consumed me. I suffered a century of 
 torments in one night. But happily the powers of nature 
 are limited : man can support only a certain decree of 
 pain. In me, nature became exhausted, and I sunk into 
 a state of lethargy and forgetfulness. My skilful keepers 
 were experienced in human suffering. The turnkey 
 aroused me by the rattling of his keys, and the creaking 
 of the hinges of my door. He held a vessel with cold 
 water to my mouth ; and my teeth became fixed in the 
 pewter pot which touched my lips. But I revived, and 
 ate a small crust. No more was offered ; and the strug- 
 gles or convulsions of my deceased frame gradually de- 
 creased with my strength. 
 
 ‘Youth and a good constitution at last overcame the 
 severe shock. My strength gradually returned, but with 
 it an increased degree of anxiety and restlessness. Day 
 after day, and week after week, passed in this hapless 
 captivity. Often did I question my turnkey respecting 
 the intention of my persecutors ; — often did I demand 
 with vehemence to be confronted with my accusers? — 
 but he only shook his head, and advised me to be quiet. 
 Once a day only was I visited ; and though the gaoler 
 was apparently a brutish, morose, and ignorant fellow, 
 yet I watched with impatience the time of his arrival, 
 and always saw him enter with joy. So much are men 
 formed for society, that I dreaded, if my solitary confine- 
 ment was continued, that I should fall into a state of 
 idiotism. I conversed aloud with myself, that I might 
 not lose the use of speech ; and endeavoured to lighten 
 the burden of time, by indulging in reveries the most ab- 
 surd and extravagant. 
 
 • One day, after eating my coarse and scanty meal, I lay 
 down, and was soon wrapped in thought. I fancied I 
 heard chains rattling, and the locks of the distant doors 
 opening. I listened, and was satisfied that persons were 
 approaching. * Now, thought I, * my doom will be de- 
 cided.’ The keeper and an assistant presently entered, 
 and ordered me to follow them. I took up my chain, 
 and did so in silence, We passed through several vault- 
 ed passages ; when I was pushed into a small dark room. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2^3 
 
 and the door was immediately closed behind me. ‘ This, 
 then, is my tomb,’ thought I : ‘ here am I destined to 
 perish by hunger and madness. Never more shall I be- 
 hold the light of the sun, nor of the bright, expressive 
 eyes of my best beloved. Be it so : I die for maintaining 
 the rights of nature ; and the precious moments of ex- 
 tatic joy I have passed with Bessey are not too deariy pur- 
 chased, even by life. Still my case is one of the most 
 cruel and unjustifiable instances of oppression. But the 
 intellects of men are exceedingly dull ; and many vic- 
 tims must yet be sacrificed to superstition and arbitrary 
 power, before they are roused to an assertion of their 
 rights.’ 
 
 ‘ After spending two hours in such reflections, my pri- 
 son-doors were opened, and I was led into an adjoining 
 hall, hung with black. I perceived no windows ; and one 
 solitary lamp, suspended from the centre, added to the 
 horrific gloom of the place. By the glancing of swords, I 
 discovered that several armed men were ranged along 
 the walls. I was led up to a table, on which stood two 
 candles, and between them a huge crucifix. Three men, 
 with caps of a peculiar form, and covered with black 
 gowns, sat at the table ; and at one.end, a clerk, with a 
 small glimmering light beside him. On casting my eyes 
 on one side, I discovered that instrument of devilish in- 
 vention, the rack ; while another similar contrivance, 
 called the thumb-screw, was fixed to the table before me. 
 At this moment I remembered that I was a Scotsman, 
 that I belonged to a gallant nation, and that I was suf- 
 fering unjustly. These considerations infused confidence 
 into my soul, and I resolved to perish like a man. One 
 thing I had long and firmly determined upon that no 
 threats, racks, tortures, or allurements, should ever in- 
 duce me to sign a revocation of my marriage. 
 
 ‘ The president commenced his interrogations by ask- 
 ing me if, in such a month I did not lodge in a particu- 
 lar house in Paris. I answered in the affirmative. He 
 proceeded to ask me a great number of questions relative 
 to my connexion with two young Frenchmen and a Ger- 
 man, whom I knew but slightly, having only twice en- 
 joyed their company. The last time we met. we supped 
 and drank wine together in a coffee-house, and did not 
 separate until two o’clock in the morning. I answered 
 every inquify frankly and fully ; though I could not di- 
 vine what such trifling matters had to do with my crime 
 of taking a lady out of a convent. The three judges whis- 
 pered together ; when one of them signed to the turn- 
 key, who instantly removed me back to my old cell. 
 
204 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 1 Here I remained for another month, when I was again 
 led back to the judgment-hall. My keeper had look- 
 ed upon me, during the two preceding days, with a mix- 
 ture of horror and surprise ; but. as I knew he would 
 communicate nothing, I asked no questions. I was re- 
 ceived in the hall as before, and I think the same persons 
 presided. After a long pause, the president said, 1 Pri- 
 soner, you stand charged with having committed, in 
 company with other three wretches, who are in custody 
 and have confessed their guilt, a most wicked and un- 
 heard-of act of sacrilege, in stealing the holy wafers that 
 stood upon the altar of the church of St. Croix ; and, fur- 
 ther, in having most blasphemously, and rebelliously dis- 
 solved the thrice holy and blessed wafers in wine, anti 
 in having drank confusion to all kings and priests with 
 the same.’ A deep groan resounded throughout the 
 room. I was astonished and confounded. Whatever my 
 private opinions might be, I had always respected the 
 faith and establishments of every country. In short, I 
 was incapable of such an act. I therefore began, with 
 all the boldness and confidence of conscious innocence, 
 to justify myself; but the president prevented me, by 
 saying I would shortly undergo my final examination, 
 when I would be turned over to the proper court, where 
 my sentence would be pronounced. 
 
 ‘ I returned to my doleful cell much dejected. I knew 
 not but that the young gentleman, respecting whom I 
 was questioned, might have committed the crime alleged, 
 and that one of them might have been weak and wicked 
 enough to accuse me of participating in its commission. 
 I figured to myself the grief and horror which all my 
 friends would experience, were I to be tried in public for 
 such an offence an offence that would excite the indig- 
 nation and detestation of all Europe. The punishment 
 of being broken upon the wheel did not appear half so 
 terrific to my imagination, as the curses that the great 
 bulk of the people would shower upon my head. 
 
 * After the lapse of ten days, I was brought again into 
 the dark hall. The president began by expressing his 
 grief at seeing a young gentleman of such promising parts 
 in so painful a situation. He said the representative of 
 my nation had used all his exertions in my behalf, but 
 that, when my crime was known, it was impossible that 
 I could expect even the royal mercy. I had besides, he 
 observed, violated the laws of France, and the principles 
 of our holy religion, by seducing a lady from her convent, 
 and persuading her to agree jto a clandestine and illegal 
 marriage. Nevertheless, if I would cousent to the dis- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 205 
 
 annulment of this improper contract, means would be 
 found to conduce me out of the country, and to restore 
 me to my friends. 
 
 ‘ I instantly perceived the trap, and expressed, in the 
 most resolute tone, my determination never to surrender 
 the just claim I had to my lawful wife. ‘You may,’ I 
 continued, ‘prepare your racks — you may try your inge- 
 nuity in torturing— you may violate the right of nations 
 in my person— you may invent and charge me with atro- 
 cious crimes— in short, you may deprive me of life ; but 
 never — never shall you induce me to abandon the best of 
 women.’ I would have proceeded, now that I was roused ; 
 but they dragged me away, while I loudly expressed my 
 contempt of their cruelties and their acts of meanness. 
 
 ‘ In a few weeks I perceived that my keeper grew more 
 kind and communicative ; and, as I suffered much pain 
 from a wound in my leg, occasioned by the chain, he hu- 
 manely removed it to the other leg, and orderad the 
 smith at the same time to ease its pressure. But the 
 wound continued very troublesome, though the keeper 
 furnished me with a box of ointment. At last, he pro- 
 posed to introduce his wife, who, he said, was an excel- 
 lent doctress. He did so, and I found much ease from 
 the fomentations and poultices she applied. The sight 
 of a woman was cheering to me ; and though she was 
 neither beautiful nor very sensible, yet I was always g*ad 
 to see her. 
 
 ‘ The means of escaping, or of affecting my liberation 
 from confinement, continually occupied my thoughts. 
 One day, the turnkey’s wife seemed particularly compas- 
 sionate, and bewailed my fate. Perpetual confinement, 
 she thought was the most dreadful thing on earth. I 
 seized this opportunity to hint, that whoever assisted me 
 in escaping would be made happy and independent for 
 life. On this, the turnkey, who was always present with 
 his wife, said that he would allow no such conversation, 
 being determined to be faithful to his trust, and to avoid 
 the dreadful punishments that seldom failed to overtake 
 treacherous keepers. 
 
 ‘ After this, the woman was not permitted to return. I 
 remonstrated with the keeper, told him that I did not 
 wish to be assisted in escaping secretly, that all I aimed 
 at was the liberty of writing to my father, to obtain which 
 I would guarantee a handsome sum. This proposition 
 the keeper received with signs of anger and impatience ; 
 but, by repeating it frequently, he insensibly became ac- 
 customed to it ; and at last he yielded. He said his bro- 
 ther-in-law was then visiting him ; that he lived upon 
 
203 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 the coast, and supplied the English smugglers with 
 French lace ; and that he had undertaken to send my 
 letters to England, and to bring back answers, without 
 allowing them to pass through the post-office. 
 
 * I was delighted with this scheme ; and being supplied 
 with writing materials, I wrote a letter to my Bessy, 
 glowing with the warmest sentiments, and expressed 
 with the eloquence inspired by a refined passion. I as- 
 sured her of my eternal constancy. I begged of my father 
 to get this letter delivered, wherever she was. I told 
 him that I had been exposed to great sufferings and trials ; 
 but that I would always act in a manner becoming a 
 Christian, a Briton, and a man. After despatching this 
 packet, my employment consisted in calculating the time 
 that would probably be consumed in the conveyance of 
 my letters, and in bringing back the answers. Though 
 impatient, I was happier, as I was now again in commu- 
 nication with the world. 
 
 ‘ Being one night more impatient than ever, I could 
 not sleep. While lamenting my cruel lot, I heard an unu- 
 sual noise of bolts, which surprised me. It was an hour 
 in which I was never visited. When the turnkey enter- 
 ed, joy beamed in his countenance. I eagerly asked him 
 what had happened. He said nothing, but held out a 
 small packet of letters. * There,’ said he, ‘ be happy if 
 you can. As for myself, I tremble at the danger I have 
 incurred in serving you. My brother has just returned 
 from the coast, and my wife would not suffer me to rest 
 a minute until I had delivered my dangerous charge.’ I 
 was transported beyond measure. I blessed my keeper 
 for his courage and humanity, and presented him with 
 my diamond ring, as an earnest of what he might expect. 
 This he received with thankfulness, and, having trimmed 
 a small lamp, left me with an air of satisfaction. 
 
 ‘ With a palpitating heart, I opened my small packet. 
 It contained two letters ; the one from my father, and 
 the other from my wife. I kissed with rapture the latter, 
 as the testimony of a constant and ardent love. The warm 
 tear fell upon this precious document as I surveyed it, 
 and some time elapsed before my rapturous feelings were 
 subdued by curiosity. At last. I opened the letter with 
 trembling hands, and read as follows : 
 
 ‘ * Sir, 
 
 ‘ ‘ I could not well refuse to answer your letter. I am 
 sorry for your sufferings, but am glad to know that they 
 may be terminated whenever you please. Submit then 
 to reason and necessity ; and if I am any obstacle to your 
 liberation, I do hereby most freely release you from all 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 207 
 
 the engagements between us. I always felt some secret 
 scruples on this subject ; and am now fully convinced, 
 that obedieuce to parents, and a strict adherence to the 
 precepts of religion, are indispensable duties, to despise 
 which might endanger my salvation. I am now none 
 with the crimes of youth ; and all my affections are placed 
 upon one object, which both duty and inclination render 
 dear. Forget me : and do not again disturb my tran- 
 quillity by the carnal suggestions of the flesh. I am 
 happy; and, if you be wise, you will also endeavour to 
 be so. All depends on sense, resolution, and piety. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Elizabeth.’ 
 
 * This cruel letter overwhelmed me with grief. I felt 
 as if I would have fainted or died. My sensations were 
 new and exquisitely painful. Despair alone preserved 
 my senses. ‘ Perfidious wretch !’ I cried, throwing the 
 letter disdainfully away, ‘ could I have expected such a 
 barbarous return ? Did so much suffering, love, and con- 
 stancy, deserve a change of sentiment so odious and trea- 
 cherous? Were the vows we mutually plighted of no 
 consequence— of no strength ?’ During two hours, I was 
 in a frenzy of rage. I gnashed my teeth, and uttered a 
 thousand imprecations against my ungrateful wife, her 
 cruel parents, and the stern religion that protected them 
 in the commission of crimes against reason and against 
 nature. My lamp was going out before I could summon 
 patience to examine my father’s letter. 
 
 4 This communication was expressed with great kind- 
 ness He detailed the steps he had taken to obtain my 
 liberation, but hinted that my enemies were too power- 
 ful for his interest. He next complained of the perfidy of 
 my mistress. He had seen, through the kind offices of 
 the English ambassador at Paris, a dissolution of our 
 marriage in the ecclesiastical courts, signed by herself ; 
 but all his inquiries respecting her place of abode had 
 been fruitless, until about a month ago, that he heard 
 she was married to Count Destival. He advised me to 
 submit to circumstances, and expressed his impatience 
 to see me. 
 
 * 4 Married !’ I exclaimed, ‘ then farewell to happiness. 
 Let me die, for the world is filled with deceit and wicked- 
 ness.’ During the rest of the night, I paced up and down 
 in my cell ; and for three successive days I refused all 
 kinds of food. On the fourth, I became ashamed of my 
 folly. I thought my unfaithful wife was unworthy of my 
 concern, and I resolved never more to hear her named. 
 When I had explained myself to the keener, he com- 
 mended my prudence. He said the former accusation 
 
208 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 still hung over my head ; but that the government was 
 not inclined to push matters to an extremity against an 
 English subject. However, he observed, the church was 
 not so merciful ; that all the clergy were incensed against 
 me for violating the sanctity of a convent ; and that, un- 
 less I agreed to disclaim a marriage which was illegally 
 performed, there were but faint hopes of my liberation. I 
 expressed my readiness to grant the church all the satis- 
 faction it could require. Within two days, the necessary 
 documents were presented to me, which I signed ; and, 
 in scorn of my false spouse, made a bold flourish with the 
 pen after my signature. 
 
 ‘ I was not immediately set at liberty ; but was handed 
 over to an officer, who conducted me to the coast, and, 
 when I was on board the English packet, delivered me an 
 order never to appear again within the territory of 
 France. This I did not regret ; for, as soon as I landed 
 at Dover, I kissed the ground, and thanked God that I 
 was now in a country where no Bastiles, and no secret 
 tribunals were allowed to exist. 
 
 * On reaching London, I took a hackney coach, and 
 drove to the house which my father usually occupied 
 when in town. I ordered the coachman to ring, and in- 
 quire whether the lord advocate was at home. A servant 
 appeared : he was dressed in mourning. My mind fore- 
 boded some dreadful calamity, and I could scarcely ar- 
 ticulate, ‘ Oh Donald 1’ He advanced to the coach-door ; 
 and, when he recognized me, he actually shouted for joy, 
 ‘Ah ! my dear young master, and are you alive?— and do 
 I see you ?’ At any other time I should have been amused 
 at the poor fellow’s joy, and his mode of expressing it; 
 but his appearance indicated that death had been in the 
 family. ‘How is my father?’ inquired I, fearfully. — 
 * Dead,’ answered Donald, with solemnity : ‘ he died of 
 apoplexy a fortnight ago, when returning from the Par- 
 liament House, and his remains have been sent to the 
 family vault in Scotland ; but your mother was too ill to 
 be removed. Come in, master ; my poor mistress will 
 die for joy when she sees you.’ 
 
 * I pass over our meeting : it was sufficiently tender 
 and affecting. I found my mother just beginning to re- 
 cover from the shock she had received ; and I exerted 
 myself to soothe and comfort her. I was obliged to em- 
 ploy myself actively in arranging my father’s affairs, and 
 in carrying the provisions of his will into effect. This 
 tended to divert my mind from brooding over my own 
 misfortunes and disappointments. 
 
 ‘ About six weeks alter my return, I was supping with 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 509 
 
 some of my relations ; when the conversation turned 
 upon my confinement in the Bastile, and I related how I 
 had found means to write to my father. But my mother 
 assured me that they had never received any intelligence 
 from me, and that my father had not written, nor did he 
 know the place of my confinement. I then produced 
 the pretended letter. All the company allowed that his 
 hand had been successfully imitated ; but the more 
 closely it was examined the more deviations from his 
 style of writing were discovered. This forgery of the 
 French police gave me some uneasiness ; but the fact of 
 my wife’s marriage to a count at Dunkirk was confirmed 
 in such a variety of ways, that I had no doubt of her in- 
 fidelity. Still I could not forget my ungrateful Bessy. 
 Her dear image was too deeply impressed upon my heart 
 to be obliterated. Sometimes resentment gave me ease, 
 but that again soon vanished. I could not conquer a 
 profound melancholy that had seized me. I found my- 
 self the most unfortunate and most enamoured of man- 
 kind. 
 
 * My mother was distressed at the secret grief which 
 she saw was devouring me. To effect my cure, she did 
 violence to her own feelings, by frequenting gay parties 
 during the usual period of mourning ; but her aim was to 
 attach me to some other object, in order that I might 
 forget my late spouse. I clearly perqeived the policy of 
 her conduct, and internally thanked her for her kind at- 
 tentions ; but I looked upon the beauties of the metropo- 
 lis with the most perfect indifference. However, one 
 evening, at a private concert, I was accidentally seated 
 beside a young lady, who was just of age, brown com- 
 p ! exioned, with fine sparkling black eyes, that expressed 
 the emotions of an intelligent and benevolent soul. It 
 was impossible to look upon this amiable lady with indif- 
 ference ; and, as she evinced a strong partiality for my 
 conversation, we soon became intimate. I felt uneasy 
 when a day passed in which I had not seen her, and my 
 visits were always received with unaffected cheerfulness. 
 My mother, who narrowly watched the growth of this 
 fond partiality, consulted the young lady’s mother, and 
 then told me, that, if I could love Lydia, she should be 
 mine in a few days. I received the proposal, not with 
 joy, but with painful surprise. It was admiration of a 
 worthy woman, not love that affected me. My unex- 
 pected coldness filled my affectionate parent with trouble 
 and perplexity. 
 
 * I always hated disguise, and had no difficulty in un- 
 folding the real state of my mind to a sympathizing mo- 
 
 N 
 
210 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 ther. I told her that Lydia was indeed a lovely woman, 
 but that I should despise myself were I to impose upon 
 her sincerity, openness, and confiding disposition. She 
 merited the whole heart ; and this I could not pretend to 
 offer, for my faithless Bessy still reigned there. I be- 
 moaned my folly in preserving a constancy so ill deserved. 
 I hoped that time would effect a cure ; but that my pres 
 ent resolution was never again to place my happiness at 
 the disposal of any woman. 
 
 ‘ My mother’s reasoning displayed the most affecting 
 maternal tenderness ; but she concluded by promising to 
 break off the affair as delicately as possible, and recom- 
 mended, in consideration of Lydia’s feelings, that I 
 should immediately prepare to go down to Edinburgh. I 
 expressed my acknowledgements for so much goodness in 
 the most lively and respectful terms, and instantly vow- 
 ed to exert my energies in conquering a weakness of 
 which I ought to be ashamed. 
 
 ‘ With these feelings I arrived in Edinburgh; but the 
 change of scene affected little alteration in my mind. My 
 early and deep-rooted love seemed identified with my 
 very existence. But relief was at hand. I was invited to 
 dine with the lord provost and the other magistrates of 
 the city. On the road, accompanied by a friend, a young, 
 advocate, I met our postman, who put a small packet into 
 my hand, bearing the London post-mark. ‘ It is some 
 business matters,’ thought I, and, putting it into my 
 pocket, soon forgot the circumstance. We spent a plea- 
 sant evening in the merry, joyous way usual in Scotland ; 
 and I returned home rather late, and somewhat elevated 
 with wine. Recollecting the packet, I opened it ; but 
 when I beheld the hand-writing of my dear wife, I turn- 
 ed pale, and the paper dropped from my hands. My mo- 
 ther, who was sitting opposite, arose quite alarmed. I 
 could not speak, but pointed to the letter. She immedi- 
 ately picked it up, when I snatched it out of her hand, 
 kissed it with fervour, and, with a wildness of joy that 
 defies description, read over and over the melting proofs 
 of love and everlasting faithfulness that it contained. My 
 mother, participating in my feelings, wept for joy. There 
 was also a letter from Sir William Beckford, and one 
 from you, that gave me an exalted idea of human virtue. 
 
 ‘ Filled with hope and joy, we next day set off on our 
 return for London. The coldness and indifference with 
 which my late father’s colleagues received my represen- 
 tations and prayers, excited my indignation, but I was 
 obliged to conceal my resentment. Wearied with my 
 frui'itss endeavours, I proposed to my mother to go to 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 211 
 
 France, and procure an interview with my beloved. On 
 the first hint, she prepared for the journey ; and as I 
 durst not accompany her, I waited at Dover for her re- 
 turn. She soon came back, filled with admiration at the 
 love and magnanimity of my unparalleled Bessey. Still I 
 waited for the interference of government, and still I con- 
 tinued to experience only disappointment and vexation. 
 An experienced friend, at length, advised me to adopt 
 another course of proceeding. I did so. I addressed 
 myself to the minister’s favourite mistress : she was af- 
 fected by my misfortunes, and shocked at the indiffer- 
 ence and want of feeling shown by her lover. Though 
 unfortunate in her situation of life, yet she possessed 
 many amiable qualities. She never rested until a nego- 
 ciation was commenced on the subject, and she gener- 
 ously refused any gratuity for her services. Surely wo- 
 men excel us in those kindlier feelings that soften and 
 elevate the human character. 
 
 ‘ In consequence of the influence and activity of our 
 ambassador at Paris, a verbal process of my affair was 
 sent to Rome ; the holy father named commissioners to 
 examine it ; and, after a mature deliberation, it was de- 
 termined that the nuncio at Paris should determine it. 
 But here the influence of my enemies triumphed, and I 
 was plunged into a state of the deepest despair. 
 
 * I now bade farewell to happiness, and performed my 
 duties in society as I would have done an irksome task. 
 I seldom went into company ; and my love and regard 
 for the best of mothers was the only feeling that preserv- 
 ed me from adopting the most desperate resolutions. 
 Two days ago, a gentleman called upon me. I liked his 
 manly air and deportment. He announced himself the 
 Earl of Lemington ; and knowing his honour and virtue, 
 I received him with becoming cordiality. He appeared 
 impatient to serve me ; and I accompanied him in his 
 carriage to the minister for foreign affairs, where he as- 
 tonished and delighted me with the clearness, energy, 
 and almost superhuman eloquence, with which he advo- 
 cated my cause. This minister was a stranger to the 
 business, but he promised his good offices. The earl, 
 who knows the procrastinating habits of official people, 
 insisted that we should wait upon him the next day, 
 when he understood the French ambassador would at- 
 tend on some important business. 1 1 would be ashamed,' 
 he said with a smile, * to look my lovely Rosina in the 
 face, before I saw your affair put into a prosperous train.’ 
 
 ‘ I was now introduced to the French ambassador, who, 
 the earl informed me. was a liberal-minded philosopher, 
 
212 
 
 ROSIN a; or, 
 
 of the most obliging disposition, and a gentleman with 
 whom he had the honour to be well acquainted. He 
 promised every thing ; and, as the nuncio is his own bro- 
 ther, my success is now certain. Last night, the earl 
 brought my mother, whom you will acknowledge to be 
 an elegant old lady, to the opera. I, of course was also 
 invited ; but how delighted was I with the kindness of 
 my noble benefactor, when he introduced us to the 
 French ambassador, who expressed his confidence that 
 St. Agnes, as he called her, would soon be restored to my 
 arms. His lordship, towards the close of the perform- 
 ance, entered into an adjoining box ; but in a few min- 
 utes returned, and, in an hurried manner, took his leave. 
 I excused him ; for all the glare and glitter of the most 
 splendid assembly, and all the ingenious exhibitions of 
 art and genius, fall infinitely short of the pure delight 
 imparted by the object beloved. He had done much to 
 merit some new tokens of jour love ; and during the 
 whole of the last night, I never ceased to pray for your 
 mutual happiness. Had not my engagements with your 
 noble and inestimable admirer prevented me, I should 
 have flown to pour out the grateful effusions of my heart, 
 the moment that I was favoured with your address.’ 
 
 I was both pained and delighted with this reci- 
 tal. It pleased me much to see the husband of my 
 bosom friend ; I rejoiced in his brightened pros- 
 pects, and I felt gratified in being instrumental in 
 effecting so happy a revolution in his affairs : but 
 then I was distressed to think, that, while my lover 
 was labouring to please me— that when he was ex- 
 ulting in his success, and anticipating my tenderest 
 acknowledgments— that, at that very moment, I 
 should appear before him under such suspicious 
 circumstances. But I laboured to conceal my un- 
 easiness, and assured him that my credit should 
 always be cheerfully employed to obtain the liberty 
 and promote the happiness of my charming friend. 
 While thus conversing, the Duke of Beaufort was 
 announced. I received him in some confusion, 
 which he easily perceived; but he adroitly com- 
 menced a conversation with Mr. Forbes. This per- 
 mitted me to recover myself. I could not, in com- 
 mon decency and politeness, offend his grace ; but 
 I observed towards him a cold and distant civility. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 213 
 
 At length, they both departed together. I hesita- 
 ted to send the letter I had written to the earl. My 
 pride revolted at what I thought a mean submis- 
 sion. . 
 
 Mrs. Myrick entered my room, with an intention 
 of amusing me, as she said ; but I this time acted 
 the lady of fashion, by overpowering her with 
 thanks and compliments, and declined the honour 
 she intended, while I conducted her politely out of 
 the room. I then shut myself up in my bed-room, 
 and sat down to think and to cry ; but, notwith- 
 standing my grief, I soon fell fast asleep. When I 
 awoke, I went quietly to bed. 
 
 Next morning, when I awoke, a tender sadness 
 possessed my heart. Forbes’ tale of woe had af- 
 fected me much ; while I dwelt on the sorrows and 
 worth of dear St. Agnes. These feelings produced 
 emotions that softened and melted me. I surren- 
 dered myself to my feelings; and though Peggy 
 appeared with my breakfast, I scarcely noticed her. 
 When the poor creature spoke, the tremulous tone 
 of her voice aroused me. In sorrow and grief we 
 are easily moved by sympathy. I arose, looked 
 upon her, smiled, sat down and poured out my tea. 
 
 ‘ Will you accompany us to church ?’ inquired 
 Mr. Myrick, as he stood bowing at my door. ‘ An 
 excellent preacher has engaged to deliver a charity 
 sermon, for the Magdalen Hospital, at St. John’s 
 church. It will be crowded with beauty and fashion.’ 
 — ‘ Then I decline going,’ answered I.— ‘ Surely, 
 madam,’ he resumed, ‘ you are not afraid or disin- 
 clined to go to church. Besides, in this .case, it is 
 an act of charity, as well as of piety. I am sorry 
 to see you so melancholy and so unhappy. It may 
 do you good to attend divine service.’ You are 
 very kind, sir,’ I answered ; ‘ and perhaps I am 
 wrong. I will go.’ I was not altogether satisfied 
 with his wife’s company ; but he had always be- 
 haved very civilly and discreetly, and, as I had ac- 
 cepted his invitation to go to the theatre, I could 
 not decently refuse to go to church. 
 
214 rosina;or, 
 
 The church was filled to excess. We had met 
 several genteel persons returning disappointed ; 
 but Mrs. Myrick insisted, contrary to the opinion 
 of her husband, that we should proceed, and she 
 feared not of obtaining us admittance. Three or 
 four constables were stationed without the door, 
 and refused to permit us to pass, saying that the 
 church was conveniently crowded. Vexed at the 
 repulse she had experienced, Mrs. Myrick pushed 
 forward with resolution and rapped at the door, 
 which was instantly opened ; when two of the 
 stewards of the Magdalen Charity appeared, and 
 informed my conductress, in an authoritative tone, 
 that she could not be admitted t but one of them, 
 perceiviug me standing behind, cried out, * Pray 
 make room for this lady.’ I know not whether it 
 was my face or my dress, or both, that pleased 
 them ; but so it was. They led me in with great 
 politeness; and Mrs. Myrick was obliged to say 
 she was in company before they would permit her 
 to follow. I pitied her, on seeing her so humbled. 
 
 I was conducted to a seat. There was but one, 
 and Mrs. Myrick stood beside me. On casting my 
 eyes around the sacred edifice, I was struck with 
 the nobleness of the scene. Nothing but the glit- 
 tering of rich silks and exquisite lace, the nodding 
 of lofty plumes, and the sparkling of precious 
 stones. The gentlemen also appeared in the gayest 
 attire. ‘ Surely,’ said I, ‘ misery and crime must be 
 banished from a land where the inhabitants appear 
 possessed of every thing tending to sweeten human 
 existence.’ The preacher mounted the pulpit. I 
 was disappointed. His weak voice, his pale, un- 
 meaning countenance, his unmellowed youth, and 
 his dull eye, offended my taste ; but as he proceed- 
 ed, he gradually warmed, his manner became ani- 
 mated, his eyes sparkled with zeal, his cheeks were 
 flushed by a holy fervour, he appeared all mind — 
 all soul. I was moved — affected— enraptured, 
 while he poured forth his eloquent conceptions, of 
 which the following is a specimen : — 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 
 
 215 
 
 c In some places, the humbled girl is bred and 
 sold to her degrading profession. She saunters 
 along the paths of vice heedlessly, and without any 
 bitter feelings of remorse. She was not the seduced 
 nor the willing sinner. She had no share in deter- 
 mining her fate. She seldom regrets what could 
 not be avoided, and sustains her part as easily and 
 as cheerfully as she may. In England, it is very 
 different. There it may be that a few are bred 
 from the cradle amongst the profligate, and school- 
 ed for the brothel : yet there are very many, who 
 have been seduced from their happy virtuous homes 
 — from fond, indulging parents, — from the kind, 
 compassionate master,— from the motherly, sympa- 
 thizing mistress, — and the cheerful, plentiful 
 kitchen. They fall, alas ! to rise no more. With 
 strong minds, and warm domestic affections, they 
 feel their outcast fate most bitterly. They look 
 back to their state of innocence with desperate re- 
 gret, and they view the virtuous of their sex with 
 weeping envy. A prey to agony and remorse, they 
 drink desperately in the wu-etched brothel. The 
 hiccup and the oath mingle alike with their caresses 
 and their quarrels. They sing and cry convulsive- 
 ly over the intoxicating bowl ; and they alternate- 
 ly fondle, scoff at, scorn, and assault their visitors. 
 Thus goaded to madness, they seem wild, unfemi- 
 nine, and monstrous, to the modest and the pure ; 
 but being thus maddened with indignation, they 
 
 revel and rave, until they pine and die.’ I was 
 
 shocked to observe the indifference and levity that 
 prevailed, particularly amongst the female part of 
 th e audience. Some were fluttering the fan ; others 
 were darting the bold inviting glance at some amor- 
 ous looking gentleman ; while many were 'whisper- 
 ing, winking, and nodding in secret communication. 
 ‘ And this,’ thought I, ‘ is the devotion of the great. 
 True it must be, that not many such are called to 
 the kingdom of God.’ But the amount of the col- 
 lection that followed surprised me, and staggered 
 my conclusions. 
 
210 KOSINA ; OR, 
 
 I had twice offered my seat to Mrs. Myrick, who 
 haughtily refused it. I therefore wished to depart 
 as soon as possible, in order to free her from her 
 painful situation. When I arose, somebody took 
 my hand. I thought it was Mrs. Myrick ; but a 
 man’s voice made me start. I looked hastily around, 
 and, oh heavens ! who should X see but the Earl of 
 Glenford. I grew pale, trembled, and, as he held 
 my hand firmly, X articulated, ‘ My lord!’ and tried 
 to disengage myself. 
 
 ‘ Pardon me, madam/ said this old nobleman, ‘ if 
 I take the lucky opportunity for another sight of 
 vou. Features like yours are not easily forgotten. 
 Your abrupt departure from [Richmond deprived 
 me of the pleasure of expressing my sense of the 
 honour you did me. But what is the meaning of 
 this ?’ continued he, perceiving my confusion; ‘does 
 my presence cause pain and uneasiness ? Or have 
 you any private reasons ‘ The lady can have 
 none/ said Mrs. Myrick ; ‘ any one would be flat- 
 tered by the attentions of the Earl of Glenford. 
 His lordship bpwed. He said, ‘ I am much obliged 
 to you, madam. I wish this lady was of the same 
 opinion/ By this time, the church was nearly 
 empty, and 1 walked off. Fortunately, Mr. Myrick 
 appeared, and offered me his arm, which X gladly 
 accepted. His wife and the old nobleman follow- 
 ed, in close conversation. At the door, our pro- 
 gress was impeded by the crowd ; when the earl, 
 addressing me, said, ‘ Madam, may I beg leave to 
 pay my respects to you after dinner ?’ — I answered, 
 ‘ My lord, I am sensible of the honour you intend 
 me ; but at present I am living in retirement, and 
 cannot with propriety see strangers.’ — ‘I respect 
 your delicacy/ he said ; ‘ but surely my character 
 and my age would prevent a friendly visit from 
 being misinterpreted.’ I knew not how to reply ; 
 vet I wished to conciliate his good-will, for my 
 lover’s sake. I knew that he was violently opposed 
 to our union ; and I flattered myself that I could 
 disarm his resentment. I knew that his visit would 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 217 
 
 alarm and perplex my lover ; but then I thought 
 he was too wanting in policy. While these thoughts 
 crossed my mind, the earl considered my silence as 
 a tacit consent, and, mounting his chariot, drove 
 off with his brilliant equipage. 
 
 Mrs. Myrick thought that I was offended at her 
 conduct in church, and now judged it proper to 
 make some atonement. She evidently thought my 
 acquaintance was worth cultivating, as it obtained 
 her the notice of persons of the first quality. Her 
 motives were easily perceived. I answered her 
 apologies very dryly, and assured her that I felt no 
 offence. She pressed me to dine with her, in which 
 her husband joined ; but I excused myself, and re- 
 tired to my own apartment. 
 
 After dinner, Mrs. Myrick entered my room in 
 high spirits. ‘ Now,’ said she, * we will have a lit- 
 tle free chat. These men are dreadful bores ; they 
 are always so very precise, so jealous, so selfish, 
 there is absolutely no living with a husband. Would 
 you believe it ? my tyrant has been angry with me 
 for leaning upon Glenford’s arm. He said my 
 looks were not becoming. Only think of that, ma- 
 dam. My looks - aye, my looks did not please him. 
 What comical animals these husbands are! But it 
 is a mercy we can look as we please when alone. I 
 will tell you a secret. The Earl of Glenford was 
 an admirer of mine before I was engaged. Though 
 advanced in years, he was still dangerous ; and my 
 mother watched him as if he had been a fiery young 
 man. He to-day begged leave to renew his ac- 
 quaintance ; but that was only a pretence to gain 
 yours.’ — ‘ Madam,’ said I, ‘ you surprise me. Your 
 language is very improper. As for the nobleman 
 you allude to, if the purpose of his visit be in any 
 degree improper, he will find his insults repelled 
 with becoming indignation. At present, I am en- 
 gaged, and wish to be alone. I will therefore not 
 detain you.’ — ‘ Very well, madam,’ said Mrs. My- 
 rick, rising with anger, * this apartment is certainly 
 your own— I will not intrude upon your privacy.’ 
 
218 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 Immediately the Earl of Gdenford was announced. 
 I received him with a stately civility. His lord- 
 ship behaved with great respect. He reverted to 
 the topics we had discussed at the hotel in Rich- 
 mond, delicately complimented me on the clearness 
 and soundness of my views* lamented that I should 
 in the infancy of life’s enjoyments have been rudely 
 separated by death from my virgin love, and con- 
 cluded by asking me if he could in any way serve 
 me. I thanked his lordship for his kind offers, but 
 assured him that my income was equal to my 
 wishes. I told him that I had not been so unfor- 
 tunate as he supposed, for my name was merely 
 assumed for the short time business detained me in 
 town, where I wished to live secluded. He ex- 
 pressed great pleasure at this information, and 
 again offered his services. He then rose, saying, if 
 without offence he was permitted to call occasion- 
 ally to inquire after my health, he should consider 
 it as a favour, for he was often sick with the sophis- 
 tical manners of a court. I bowed assent and ac- 
 knowledgment ; the interview did not exceed ten 
 minutes. 
 
 ‘ This is strange,’ said I to myself ; 1 his lordship 
 has behaved with all the delicacy and feeling of a 
 brother. Can he mask any bad design under such 
 a kind, candid appearance ; or has Mrs. Myrick 
 warned him to be on his guard P Ought I not, 
 then, to inform my dear Remington that his uncle 
 has discovered my retreat ? If evil be designed, 
 he alone can avert it.’ I took up the pen, and 
 wrote a long circumstantial letter, and which I re- 
 solved to see delivered at his house next day. 
 
 I rose next morning, agitated between hope and 
 fear respecting the effects of my letter. I intended 
 to go in a hackney coach to the earl’s residence, 
 and to see the coachman deliver it. I was dressed 
 for this purpose, when Mr. Forbes came in. I was 
 glad, as I expected to hear some intelligence of my 
 lover. ‘ How does your affair prosper P and when 
 did you see the Earl of Remington r inquired I.— 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAtn. 
 
 219 
 
 * My affair will, I hope, terminate favourably,’ he 
 said : ‘ as for the earl, he was extremely gay when 
 I supped With him last night.’— ‘ G-ay I’ I repeated 
 to myself : ‘ the earl gay, while I suffer mental tor- 
 tures almost indescribable. 
 
 Mr. Forbes perceived my distress, and kindly in- 
 quired if I was well. Secrecy was useless, and I 
 related the cruel perplexities in which I was in- 
 volved, and spoke of my intention of sending the 
 earl an explanatory letter. Forbes approved of the 
 scheme, offered to deliver my letter in person, and 
 to bring me an answer within an hour. I was 
 glad at this, and thought that I perceived in Forbes 
 the worthy admirer of my affectionate friend St. 
 Agnes. 
 
 The hour expired ; but no Forbes appeared. 
 Then another — and another. Oh ! what a miser- 
 able day did I spend ! I looked through the win- 
 dow ! but I saw nothing. My thoughts were ab- 
 sorbed in reflecting on my own miserable condition. 
 At last, after suffering an age of sickening sorrow, 
 the sun set. Peggy brought the candles in, and 
 passed me with a groan, in order to draw the cur- 
 tains. I saw she intended to speak ; but, to pre- 
 vent her, I looked stern and displeased. 
 
 She had scarcely left the room, when she re- 
 opened the door, and the Earl of Glenford entered, 
 preceded by Mrs. Myrick. I took up my work, af- 
 fecting an air of great tranquillity : but my old 
 visitor perceived the constraint I was under ; and 
 politely expressed a hope that he had not come at 
 an improper time. I blushed at being thus detect- 
 ed, said I was slightly indisposed, and began to 
 sew. The old earl sat down in an easy, chit-chat 
 manner. He appeared quite at home ; and I was 
 insensibly diverted by his pleasant sallies of wit. 
 The only thing I disliked was his extravagant en- 
 comiums on my beauty. As I knew I was hand- 
 some, and as he behaved respectfully in other re- 
 spects, I permitted these expressions to pass. In 
 the mean time, Mrs. Myrick attempted to be very 
 
220 rosina;or, 
 
 familiar ; but I repressed her forwardness by a 
 serious air. When leaning over my work-table, 
 she maliciously removed the handkerchief that 
 covered my breast ; at which the earl laughed. I 
 gave them both so severe a look, that it was easy to 
 comprehend I was not of a temper to suffer such sort 
 of behaviour. This instantly checked his lordship, 
 who never again was wanting in respect to me. So 
 true it is, that a virtuous woman may secure a re- 
 spectful treatment if she pleases. Men endeavour 
 to amuse us, and, under that pretence, take too 
 great freedoms. Unhappy is that young woman 
 who defends herself in mirth ; she must lose ground. 
 Seriousness is the shield of virtue ; and those who 
 are wise know how to use it in a proper manner. 
 
 I now repented having admitted the visits of the 
 Earl of Glenford, who, I saw, acted in the charac- 
 ter of a lover. I feared that his cunning and influ- 
 ence would cause me trouble. While thinking how 
 to dismiss my old lover, Forbes, thinking me alone, 
 entered without sending in his name, with a letter 
 in his hand. I was so much confounded, that I 
 could scarcely rise to inform him. 
 
 The Earl of Glenford observing my trouble, rose 
 and received Mr. Forbes with great politeness. 
 They immediately began a discourse, with all the 
 ease and propriety of two well-bred men. But I 
 continued to think of the letter which Forbes had 
 put into his pocket ; and I wished to devise some 
 artifice to get rid of my troublesome visitor. My 
 simple aunt, who had forgotten her orders to let 
 nobody in without informing me when Mr. Forbes 
 entered, recollecting it now, and came to inform 
 me that a gentleman desired to see me. I blushed, 
 and, apologizing to the company, went out. It 
 was Captain Boss. ‘No, my dear friend,’ said I, 
 * you cannot enter : old Glenford is there.’— 4 Good 
 God !’ cried the captain, 4 how unfortunate ! I have 
 a thousand things to say ; but I must fly. Be you 
 upon your guard. He is a dangerous man.’ 
 
 In a few minutes, the Duke of Beaufort entered. 
 
TTIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 221 
 
 He joined in the conversation, and parried off the 
 old earl’s jokes with uncommon address. Indeed, 
 he appeared to great advantage in an intellectual 
 point of view ; and, had my mind been at ease, I 
 would have enjoyed the witty conversation. Mr. 
 Forbes said little. Ho seemed to know what was 
 passing in my breast ; and he had too much sym- 
 pathy and kindness to do any thing that might pro- 
 long the visit. At last, my patience being com- 
 pletely exhausted, I took courage, and begged to 
 be excused for a few minutes, as Mr. Forbes was 
 waiting for a letter which I had to write. The 
 two noblemen and Mrs. Myrick immediately took 
 their leave. 
 
 The moment Mr. Forbes and I were alone, I ask- 
 ed him for the earl’s letter. ‘ I really am afraid,’ 
 replied he, giving me the letter, ‘ you will not be 
 pleased with it ; and I think myself peculiarly un- 
 fortunate to be the messenger of evil tidings to one 
 so esteemed and so good.’ I read as follows : — 
 
 * I am surprised, miss, that you should take the trouble 
 of giving me an account of your actions and motives, 
 which I have no right to expect, and have no curiosity to 
 know. It would be presumptuous in me to disapprove of 
 the civilities which are undoubtedly due to the rank and 
 merit of the Duke of Beaufort. If he should have the 
 same designs as I had, the satisfaction of having put the 
 first hand to the making of your fortune is at least mine. 
 I sacrifice every thing to your interests, and have too 
 much pride to complain. You received tue duke’s visit, 
 he gallanted you to the opera, and accompanied you 
 home, where he remained to entertain you, while I was 
 denied admittance. Ail this depended upon your own 
 choice ; and tastes are not to be disputed. I wish you 
 every happiness, and do most solemnly assure you, that 
 I will never disturb your new engagements by intrusions, 
 disagreeable to you, and unprofitable to me. Farewell 
 for ever. 
 
 ‘ To Miss Hawkins * Lemington. 
 
 I was petrified by this cruel answer. ‘ Just hea- 
 vens!’ cried I, bursting into tears, ‘can any one be 
 so unjust? Ought a love so constant and so fer- 
 vent to be repaid with such ingratitude? But I 
 
222 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 have been deceived — my sincerity has been mock- 
 ed — I have never been beloved. Unhappy, miser- 
 able being ! I am now doomed to descend with 
 sorrow into the grave.’ 
 
 Forbes was deeply affected with the excess of my 
 grief. He sympathized with me — he whispered 
 kind consolation — he tried to infuse hope into my 
 soul. His manly tenderness, his noble sentiments 
 relieved me. I wept more freely. I squeezed his 
 hand as he departed; and, when alone, I prayed 
 most fervently for strength to withstand this cruel, 
 this unexpected stroke. 
 
 Next morning I was feverish— I was very ill. 
 Peggy had teased me to drink a basin of tea ; but 
 I could not eat. This affectionate servant came in 
 shortly after, saying that Captain Ross begged to 
 see me. By an effort I arose, and, dressed in my 
 morning-gown, went into the parlour. I knew 
 that I looked ill ; and the captain appeared alarm- 
 ed when he saw me. He led me to the sofa, look- 
 ed at me with inexpressible concern, and said, ‘Ah! 
 Rosina, you ought to mitigate your grief. Pardon 
 the author : his fault arises from the excess of his 
 passion.’ — ‘ No, sir,’ answered I, with energy, ‘ he 
 loves me not, nor ever did. He knew me not. He 
 doubts my constancy ; but I will give him a con- 
 vincing proof of it. I will now retire into humble 
 obscurity. Ah ! Lemington, was this blow reserved 
 for you to inflict ? I lose you — I am spurned as 
 base, as unworthy — you despise, you fly me, — your 
 revenge shall be ample ; regret shall end my life.’ 
 Captain Ross behaved with his usual generosity. 
 Instead of taking advantage of the existing differ- 
 ence in favour of his own passion, he exerted him- 
 self in favour of his friend, and endeavoured to 
 support my affection for him, of which my extreme 
 grief was a sufficient proof. I entreated him to 
 leave, to abandon me, as others had done ; declar- 
 ing I would in future seclude myself so carefully 
 from the notice of the fashionable world, that no 
 efforts should ever discover me. I had instructed 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 223 
 
 Lady Beckford to direct to me at my present lodg- 
 ings", and the fear of losing the expected letter had 
 been the chief cause of detaining me in a situation 
 where I was surrounded with perils and tempta- 
 tions. The captain hinted that he could secure my 
 letters, without detaining me where I was unhappy ; 
 but begged me to remain quiet for a few days, as 
 an unexpected revolution in affairs might take 
 place. I promised to do so, and returned to bed. 
 
 During the two following days, I was an object 
 of pity. I could scarcely bear the presence of 
 Peggy, who mourned over me, and wondered what 
 could render me so unhappy. I refused to see 
 either the duke or old Glenford ; even Captain Ross 
 was denied the liberty of approaching my chamber ; 
 and to Forbes I excused myself in the politest man- 
 ner I could. On the third morning, Forbes called, 
 and sent me in a small paner packet. I sat up in 
 bed, opened it, and was pleased to find that it con- 
 tained a letter from St. Agnes. Its contents were 
 as follow : — 
 
 * My dearest Rosina, 
 
 * Through the secret agents that Sir William Beckford 
 kindly engaged when at Amiens, I am occasionally en- 
 abled to communicate with the world ; but it is a privilege 
 that I very seldom exercise, lest detection should again 
 bring down the fury of the convent upon my head. Since 
 you left us, I have suffered very much ; but I dare not 
 yet reveal the secrets of my prison-house. The unabated 
 love, the unshaken constancy of my dear Forbes, has af- 
 forded me the most gratifying reflections, and yielded a 
 ray of hope to gladden my heart. 
 
 ‘ I have heard, though imperfectly, of your unwearied 
 exertions in my behalf ; and I learn that now they will, 
 very probably, be crowned with success. Ah! how 
 happy shall I be to embrace you in my native land ! — to 
 thank and to serve my generous friends and deliverers ! 
 — and to present to them one of the noblest of the sons 
 of men ! 
 
 ‘ I pray for you, my dear Rosina. Yes, I pray for you 
 both evening and morning ; and your image is distinctly 
 before me. I see your form, tall and majestic, yet femi- 
 nine. I behold your white rounded arm, of perfect pro- 
 portion i the graceful neck, rising stately from your fine. 
 
224 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 falling shoulders ; the transparent complexion, and ver- 
 milion-tinged cheek ; the delicately-marked prominence 
 of your nose ; the eyes dark, large, and lustrous, and yet 
 languid, veiled by white, blue-veined lids, and fringed 
 by such beautiful eye-lashes ; the ruby lip. sweetly open- 
 ing and discovering the pearly treasure ; the little, soft, 
 rounded chin ; and the long, thick, graceful tresses. 
 Thus do I see you, beauteous as you are ; and I tremble, 
 and pray for my amiable friend. Few, if any are so en- 
 chantingly beautiful ; yet how many are ruined by the 
 little charms they possess. Men — great, rich, titled, un- 
 feeling men, consider such women as their lawful prey. 
 They flatter, they fondle, they deceive, betray, and aban- 
 don. Many a heartless man seeks the possession of a 
 fine woman, as he would of a beautiful horse,— merely to 
 gratify his shallow vanity. 
 
 ‘You are, I am afraid, too tender, too exquisitely sen- 
 sible, to be very happy. I am sorry for this ; because I 
 fear your susceptibility may consign you a prey to 
 vain regrets, or hopeless despair. Guard against this 
 weakness in your nature. Remember you owe duties to 
 God, to your family, to society, to yourself; and that 
 these ought never to be sacrificed in order to cherish a 
 vain and hopeless passion. Wishing you all the happi- 
 ness your innocence and virtue merit, I remain your 
 loving friend, St. Agnes. 
 
 I read this letter twice. ‘ Surely/ thought I, 
 ‘ this is a voice from heaven ; and the sentiments 
 are so pure and true, that I ought to receive them 
 with thankfulness and confidence.’ Having- has- 
 tily dressed myself, I went to thank Mr. Forbes for 
 this acceptable communication. He was gratified 
 with the satisfaction I evinced, and said that as the 
 nuncio had gone to Vienna on a mission, an answer 
 to the representations sent could not be expected 
 for some days. He departed, promising to call 
 soon ; hut he never alluded to the Earl of Reming- 
 ton. I thought this rather strange. 
 
 I now tried to assume all the dignity of offended 
 virtue. I took up a newspaper to amuse myself ; 
 and the first paragraph I read was an account of 
 the Earl of Lemington having obtained the vacant 
 blue ribbon, with an account of the splendid cere- 
 mony when he was knighted. ‘ It is well,’ said I, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2*25 
 
 laying down the paper, ‘ he is honoured, and ha 
 merits it. I am too low for one so exalted ; and I 
 can show him that a just pride and delicacy can be 
 maintained in humble, as well as in high life. Just 
 then, the Earl of Glenford entered. I received his 
 compliments with a coldness, and a penetrating 
 look, that disconcerted even this adept in intrigue, 
 and he soon took his leave. After dinner, the Duke 
 of Beaufort called in to inquire after my health ; 
 when I explained myself with so much resolution 
 on the subject of his visits, that he stood before me 
 quite confounded. At last, he stammered out that 
 his intentions were honourable. ‘ Then,’ said I, 
 ‘ this furnishes me with sufficient reason for reject- 
 ing your attentions ; for were I even disengaged, 
 your birth and rank so far exceed mine, that I 
 would die rather than be the instrument of your 
 degradation.’ He replied that my reasonings were 
 so unexpected and important, that he would take 
 the liberty of explaining himself by letter. He 
 then withdrew, quite disheartened. I now felt my 
 own power, and resolved in future to exercise it. 
 
 One day after dinner, when I was sitting at my 
 work, Peggy burst into the room in a great flurry, 
 crying out, ‘ Madam, here is an impudent man who 
 insists you are his wife. He won’t be said nay, 
 and will come up stairs.’ — ‘ His wife, Peggy !’ I 
 exclaimed ; when in bounced two strange-looking 
 men. One was an aged, tall man, with a weather- 
 beaten face ; a black patch on his right eye, and 
 his left closed up. He was dressed in an old, greasy 
 suit of naval uniform, and advanced with one hand 
 on the shoulder of his attendant, and with the 
 other he guided his gold-headed cane. The old, 
 blunt seaman, that acted as his servant, had strong, 
 harsh features ; his man-of-war jacket hung loose, 
 and discovered a striped flannel under- jacket, 
 which was tied around his neck with a silk hand- 
 kerchief. His head was covered with a large 
 slouched hat; and he held a tremendous club under 
 his arm. They both entered with their hats on. 
 
 0 
 
226 rosina; or, 
 
 4 Oclsbobs !’ cried the first, ‘ she’s a nice tight fri- 
 gate, master ; but I’ll soon lay you alongside of her.’ 
 — ‘ Nancy !’ exclaimed the old gentleman, ‘my dear 
 Nancy, why do you not fly to your poor Jack ? 
 I’ve lost my stern-lights, d’ye see ; it was by orders 
 from the Commander aloft : but my heart is as 
 sound as a new biscuit. Why do ye hang astern, 
 my love P Though my old hull be shattered a little 
 or so, you would not cast an old friend overboard, 
 eh? Has she hoisted no signal, Tom?’— ‘No, 
 please your honour,’ replied Tom, ‘ she's shy.’ Then 
 scowling at me, he said, ‘ Harkee, lady, here stands 
 as brave an officer as ever trod the quarter-deck.* 
 I had now overcome the first emotions of surprise, 
 and politely inquired what they wanted. ‘ By 
 G-d ! it’s all right,’ shouted the old man: ‘that’s 
 her own sweet voice, I’ll swear. Oh ! my sweet 
 wife, come to the arms of your own long-lost J ack 
 Boyd ;’ and he stretched out his arms. His figure 
 was so grotesque, and the mistake so comical, that 
 I burst out into a loud laugh. ‘ Odds my life !’ 
 cried the officer, ‘ here’s a fine kettle of fish. After 
 weathering so many tough gales, have I come into 
 port to be bamboozled and laughed at ? — by my 
 own lawful wife too — bone of my bone, and flesh 
 of my flesh! Hussy, I heard ye were dodging 
 about with some fresh-water, wishy-washy land- 
 lubbers. But it won’t do, Tom, my boy. Here 
 we’ll cast anchor. A good mooring, Tom, eh ? and 
 let’s see who dares open a fire upon us.’ While he 
 was saying this, he seated himself on a chair, 
 cocked up his hat, and stamped his cane upon the 
 floor. 
 
 I now began to feel vexed ; and I told him, in a 
 peremptory tone, to begone, or I would send for a 
 constable. ‘ D — n your constables !’ said he ; ‘ I’m 
 a gentleman, and bear the king’s commission. I 
 have fought and bled for my country ; while you, 
 madam, have been roving about like a pleasure 
 galley. But it’s all over now, and you must love 
 Jack again ; or, by the spirit of my mother, I’ll put 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 227 
 
 you at a short allowance under hatches. Why a 
 bum-boat woman would have shown me more re- 
 spect. By the Lord, but I’ll make a clean ship. 
 Eh, ye may send for your bullies. Who’s afraid P 
 The skulking rascals ! they deserve to be keel- 
 hauled. Tom, bear a hand, and let’s have some 
 grog.’ 
 
 ‘ His honour wants the keys of the locker, lady,’ 
 said Tom, with a serious air, while he scratch- 
 ed his head. — ‘ I can bear this no longer,’ said I ; 
 
 ‘ the law cannot authorize any one to insult me so 
 in my own house.’ — ‘ Mayhap not,’ replied Tom, 
 with the greatest coolness ; ‘ howsomever, Lieuten- 
 ant Boyd must be obeyed, so here goes ; and he 
 struck violently against the door of a small elegant 
 press that stood near the book-case, with an inten- 
 tion to break it down. J ust at this moment Peggy, 
 who had gone to get assistance, came running back, 
 crying out, ‘ Oh ! madam, here is that old lord 
 coming.’ At another time, this visit would not 
 have been so very agreeable as it now proved. 
 
 His lordship, on entering, perceived Tom was 
 making the door of my closet fly into splinters. 
 ‘What is the matter?’ he inquired with evident 
 surprise.— 4 1 know not, my lord,’ said I; ‘but 
 these men have taken forcible possession of my 
 apartment, and are beginning to destroy the furni- 
 ture.’— 4 Why, you’re a gentleman, I hear,’ said my 
 would-be husband, ‘and will listen to reason. My 
 name is John Boyd, late lieutenant aboard of the 
 Arethusa. I lost my precious eye-sight by light- 
 ning in the Gulf of Mexico ; and, lookee, here I am 
 safe in port, and here is my own wife pretending 
 not to know my colours.’ His lordship immediate- 
 ly perceived the cause of the mistake, and appear- 
 ed much amused; but as Tom recommenced his 
 operations, he ordered him in an authoritative tone 
 to desist. ‘ Avast, there,’ vociferated Tom ; ‘ d — n 
 me if I receive orders from any fair-weather Jack 
 that comes across my bows, when my own proper 
 officer is here. And shall he not board his own 
 
22S rosina; or, 
 
 wife, though she be so finely rigged ? Why, d’ye 
 see, I minds a lord no more than a porpuss.’ — 
 
 ‘ Steady, Tom,’ cried the lieutenant ; ‘ a seaman 
 knows how to behave to superiors.’— ‘ I hope you 
 do, Mr. Boyd,’ said the earl. ‘Pray where were 
 you married ? and how long ago ‘ Why,’ said 
 the lieutenant, ‘ by my reckoning, I was married 
 fifteen years ago, come next Christmas, at St. Mar- 
 tin’s church.’ — ‘ Then, my friend, if this be your 
 wife, you must have married her when she was 
 only three or four years of age ; but you are evi- 
 dently mistaken.’ — ‘ Mistaken !’ re-echoed the lieu- 
 tenant indignantly, ‘ i’ faith I would be a chuckle- 
 headed lubber did I not know my own rib. Zounds ! 
 bring me a bible, and I’ll swear that’s her ; or, if 
 she thinks I’m not Jack because my dead-lights are 
 up, why let us just step into a room together, and 
 I’ll soon convince her, I warrant ye.’ — ‘ No,’ said his 
 lordship, ‘ I will permit no further intrusion. I am 
 the Earl of Glenford, one of the lords of the ad- 
 mirality ; and if you want further satisfaction, call 
 upon me to-morrow. Perhaps I may enable you 
 to discover your lost spouse.’ The old officer rose, 
 uncovered his head, and bowing, said, ‘ Well, well, 
 your lordship will excuse a poor seaman. My wife, 
 maybe, may think better on’t ; for its cursed cruel 
 to send her own lawful mate adrift. Odsheart ! if 
 she was a Christian, she would never have cast 
 away her poor Jack like a piece of old junk.’ Tom, 
 after jerking up his trowsers, and turning his large 
 tobacco-quid in his cheek, muttered out, ‘Well, 
 your honour, I guess we must put ship about, and 
 steer another course ;’ and giving me a terrible look, 
 he led his master out of the room. 
 
 I thanked his lordship for his services in this 
 awkward affair ; telling him that the first deviation 
 I had ever made from truth and sincerity, was suf- 
 fering myself to be persuaded to assume a false 
 name, and that the consequences had convinced me 
 that no happiness could accrue from a deviation from 
 propriety. His lordship argued with great plausi- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 229 
 
 bility against my opinion, and contended that ex- 
 pediency ought to rule our actions. His conversa- 
 tion evinced how well he was skilled in all the 
 sophistries of vice, and how dangerous such a man 
 was to youth and inexperience. 
 
 After his lordship had departed, I sent Peggy for 
 the newspaper, thinking that it might contain some 
 notice of my lover, Nor was I disappointed, as the 
 first paragraph of the day’s news ran thus ‘ Yes- 
 terday, the Earl of Lemington left town in great 
 haste. He proceeds direct to Falmouth, where the 
 Syren sloop-of-war is waiting to convey him to 
 New York. It is understood that he is entrusted 
 with important instructions to the governors of his 
 majesty’s colonies in North America.’ 
 
 I paced the ro >m with hurried steps. I cried — I 
 prayed — I held my burning forehead. Peggy 
 opened the door, and spoke ; but I answered not. 
 I knew not what she said ; when Captain Boss en- 
 tered. When I saw this generous friend, my tears 
 were redoubled. I breathed easier— and I held out 
 the newspaper. He knew all. When I became 
 calm, I said, ‘ Now, Captain Ross, you are the only 
 person in this world that I rely upon. May I flat- 
 ter myself I am not deceived ?’ — ‘ Can you question 
 my sincerity ?’ replied he : ‘ speak, charming Ro- 
 sina, for nothing appears impossible to the zeal I 
 have for your service. I have done my best ; but 
 would you have me to pursue the earl, and repeat 
 my remonstrances ?’ — ‘ No,’ answered I, ‘ your 
 friend’s eyes are opened. Love — no, not love, but 
 fondness that blinded him. He now sees the great 
 distance between us. He must blush at his own 
 weakness, and could only regain his own esteem by 
 abandoning me. He, however, is still dear to me; 
 and I blame him not, though his behaviour to me 
 has been harsh. I indulged flattering illusions, but 
 they must now be forgotten. I will now descend 
 from the dangerous eminence to which the parti- 
 ality of friends has raised me. I thank you— most 
 (sincerely, dear captain, for your kindness and mag- 
 
230 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 nanimity ; and the last and only favour I have to 
 ask is, that you inform your noble friend that I re- 
 pent my foolish passion, forgive him, and respect 
 even his severities ; and that, in obscurity and soli- 
 tude, I will ever worship his dear image at the al- 
 tar of my heart. I have now done with the world.’ 
 
 The sympathizing tone stole silently down the 
 captain’s manly cheeks ; hut instead of answering 
 me, he waited until the violence of my emotions 
 had subsided. He then said, 4 Alas ! my amiable 
 friend, 4 1 grieve for my friend, who insists on ren- 
 dering both you and himself miserable. But, dear 
 Bosina, you must not be too precipitate, Love 
 quarrels often end in the highest happiness ; though 
 oftentimes women will not wait for the ascendancy 
 of their good stars. Sometimes a lady plunges into 
 a wearisome solitude ; while another marries a rival, 
 for whom she has no partiality. And what is the 
 consequence ? The dark cloud vanishes ; she re- 
 covers her reason, and looks back with horror on 
 her conduct and engagements. Grief and tears 
 succeed, and death is invoked ; but to youth its ap- 
 proaches are slow.’ 
 
 In reply, I dwelt on the dangers and vexations I 
 had suffered in London. He said, 4 1 was to 
 blame to induce you to assume a widow’s name. 
 I know that Mrs. Myrick is not a very safe land- 
 lady, and that Glenford will never cease annoying 
 you while here. But where would you go ? Into 
 the country, where your history, and your actions, 
 would become the common topic of gossiping * 
 where you are sure to be traced out by the Hon* 
 ourable Miss Lambe, Glenford, and the duke also; 
 besides being attacked by all the rude, drunken, 
 fox-hunting squirearchy of the neighbourhood, 
 while no friend, no protector is nigh. Take decent 
 retired lodgings in London or the suburbs, where 
 you may live unnoticed and unmolested. The earl’s 
 mission need not detain him in America. In a 
 little time, he may discover his own injustice, and 
 fly to protest at your feet — 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 231 
 
 ‘ All ! no,’ cried I, ‘ though he should change his 
 mind and return, yet never will I again behold a 
 man capable of suspecting me. No, I do love him ; 
 but all his future protestations would be in vain. 
 I repeat it, nothing can alter my mind on this sub- 
 ject. My resolution is irrevocably fixed, and the 
 whole world shall not shake it. 
 
 Captain Ross tried to soothe my mind. 4 You do 
 not know yourself,’ said he. 4 Your imagination is 
 lively, and your heart tender. You cannot live in 
 a state of indifference. You are made to love, and 
 will always love. Would to heaven, in changing 
 its object, it may be remembered you have a steady, 
 sincere admirer.’ — 4 No more of this, Captain Ross,’ 
 said I ; ‘ respect my misfortunes.’ My friend bow- 
 ed, rose, and was about to take his leave ; but I 
 thought it cruel to dismiss him with a reproof, 
 so I asked him to take tea. He accepted the invi- 
 tation. 
 
 Next day, I expected Captain Ross returning , 
 and I did not wait long, as he called with a coach 
 just at the time appointed. He informed me that 
 he had engaged a genteel apartment, with a bed- 
 room and small dressing-room adjoining, and an 
 attic for a servant, at a very low rate. The house 
 stood, he said, in a retired situation in Stockwell 
 village, two miles from Westminster; and there 
 were very pleasant walks in the vicinity. He had 
 also he continued, given directions at the post- 
 office for my letters to be forwarded to this place. 
 I was pleased with this arrangement, and immedi- 
 ately called up 4 Peggy,’ and said, 4 1 am going to 
 leave this lodging immediately. If you choose to 
 accompany me, it is well ; if not, I will pay you 
 your wages, and you are at liberty.’ — 4 God bless 
 you, my sweet mistress ; I can never leave you, if 
 you do not turn me off ; and that would break my 
 heart, and you cannot surely kill me. I will go 
 
 wherever you go, and ’ 4 Very well, Peggy,* 
 
 said I, interrupting her, 4 go get ready in a minute.’ 
 I now sat down, and wrote a short note to Mr. 
 
BOSINA; OR 
 
 £32 
 
 Myrick, thanking him for all his polite attentions ; 
 and in a few minutes after, I was seated in the 
 coach, with the captain and my aunt. 
 
 Just as we were driving off, the Earl of Glen- 
 ford’s carriage passed at a rapid pace. His appear- 
 ance agitated me violently. At last, we arrived at 
 Stockwell ; and I was much gratified by the ele- 
 gant simplicity of my apartments. The house w T as 
 secluded ; and the prospect was rural, rich, and 
 beautiful. 
 
 My landlady entered to welcome me to her house. 
 She was a clean, old widow woman, and had evi- 
 dently seen better days. I asked her if the draw- 
 ing easel, pianoforte, and harp, belonged to the 
 apartment. She said that the gentleman who en- 
 gaged the lodging sent them about two hours ago. 
 Thinking that my question might cause injurious 
 suspicions, I replied, ‘ It’s all right, I was only 
 wondering how quickly those articles had been re- 
 moved.’ Next day, I received a large package of 
 the choicest books, in English, French, and Italian, 
 with a note from Captain Boss, hoping they would 
 amuse and instruct me in my solitude, and repeat- 
 ing his wishes to serve me. 
 
 ‘ Heading, working, and occasionally playing a 
 soothing air, occupied my time for three days. I 
 had been reading, when I mused on my situation, 
 ‘ I have all that I could desire,’ said I to myself; 
 ‘ yet I am like a forlorn outcast. I enjoy not the 
 kind smile — the cheerful chat— the joyous laugh. I 
 have fled from society, and prohibited the approach 
 of my kindest friend. This was foolish ; yet I can- 
 not invite him without raising hopes that ought not 
 to be cherished. But why sacrifice all to the love 
 of one who spurns me ? — and while my heart is 
 ready to burst, he is ‘ gay.’ The captain said I was 
 made for love : I feel it so. Then let me decide. 
 Here is one cruel and ungrateful ; and there is an- 
 other, tender, warm, and constant. Besides, the 
 latter has an agreeable person, an elegant air, and 
 a most generous, confiding disposition. His prin- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 233 
 
 ciples also are honourable. .Add to this, that he 
 
 has served ’ ‘ Beg pardon, mistress,’ said Peggy, 
 
 entering with a note in her hand. I took the note, 
 and read the following : — 
 
 * My dear friend, 
 
 * Forgive this infringement of your orders. I have 
 been driven by necessity to risk the chance of incurring 
 your displeasure. Do not punish me too severely for ap- 
 proaching your sanctuary without permission. Only 
 grant me a few moments’ conversation, and I will atone 
 for this oifence. 
 
 * Your unalterable friend, 
 
 ‘James Ross.* 
 
 1 Well,’ thought 1, ‘ this is a mark of real love. 
 He sighs for my presence ; yet he dares not violate 
 mv injunctions. Poor fellow! he deserves some 
 little encouragement for this.’ Peggy, desire Cap- 
 tain Ross to walk up stairs.’ I received him with 
 a kindness and cheerfulness that seemed to delight 
 him. He apologized for his intrusion ; but I in- 
 terrupted him by expressing the satisfaction I had 
 received in perusing some of the books. It led to 
 a long conversation on literary subjects, in which 
 the captain acquitted himself beneficially. Tima 
 flew unheeded ; but at length Peggy eptered, and 
 announced the hour. The captain, after express- 
 ing his pleasure at the very agreeable evening he 
 had spent, took advantage of my good humour, 
 and asked to stay supper ; a favour I could not 
 well refuse. 
 
 Captain Ross said, 1 Am I so unfortunate as to be 
 troublesome? or have you so little confidence in 
 me, as not to talk of what is agreeable ?’ These 
 questions puzzled me. He saw my perplexity, and 
 continued, having taken my hand, ‘ You are tran- 
 scendently amiable. Twice I have enjoyed your 
 conversation without hearing you mention Reming- 
 ton.’ He looked as if he would penetrate into my 
 very heart. I felt my heart palpitate. ‘ How bar* 
 barous you are,’ said I. ‘ How can you remind me 
 of a person I wish to forget ? What pleasure cam 
 
234 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 you find in replunging me into the cruelest reflec- 
 tions P And why should I speak or think of Rem- 
 ington ? He has rejected — insulted me.’ Alas ! it 
 may be she is rejoicing at my humiliation !— That 
 sigh— that alas] exclaimed the captain, 4 informs 
 me of what I wanted to know. Yes, Rosina, you 
 are deeper in love than you imagine. The earl will 
 be ever dear, and I will be wretched. You have 
 pronounced my doom — I submit —and before an- 
 other moon, he added, pointing to that luminary, 
 which shone into the room, 4 I will convince you, 
 by proofs, that my passion for you surpasses yours 
 for the earl, which is saying a great deal.’ 
 
 4 You speak in riddles,’ replied I. 4 What rela- 
 tion can your proofs have to the earl 4 Still more 
 marks of your deep-rooted love,’ said the penetra- 
 ting captain. 4 You would not have been so curi- 
 ous had my words regarded only myself. But un- 
 less you promise to remain here until the earl or I 
 return, I wilt not explain— 1 11 retain the secret.’ — 
 
 4 Ah ! dear Ross, do not delight in torturing me. 
 You have my esteem and friendship. Any thing 
 in mortal power I will do to oblige you. Do not, 
 then, leave me in a state of suspense.’ — 4 My duty 
 called me to Ireland some days ago ; but I could 
 not leave you in the midst of dangers and vexations. 
 To-morrow I must go : and at Cork, where my re- 
 giment lies, I will see Remington, for the vessel in 
 which he embarked has received damages, and put 
 into that port to refit. That is the secret ; and I 
 know your lover’s heart so well, that I dare ven- 
 ture to predict I shall be able to restore it to the 
 proper owner. 
 
 I was affected by such a noble act of generosity ; . 
 but the ruling passion of my soul prevaifed, and I 
 eagerly imbibed the agreeable illusion of gaining 
 Remington’s love. I was no longer uneasy at the 
 captain’s intended departure: I was only afraid 
 that he should be too long in reaching Cork to serve 
 me. He asked and obtained leave to correspond 
 with rue. Apparently satisfied with this privilege, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2T5 
 
 he took his leave, after repeated injunctions to take 
 care of myself. I exacted of him that he should 
 not make the least effort in my favour with regard 
 to Lemington. Notwithstanding my tenderness 
 for him, my little heart was nettled at the idea of 
 suing for his regard ; and I could not reflect on the 
 spirit of his farewell letter without resentment. I 
 therefore engaged the captain on his honour to in- 
 form me, with the sincerity of a gentleman of all 
 that passed respecting me. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 T HE departure of Captain Ross dejected me, in 
 spite of my efforts to maintain my serenity. My 
 only comfort was the hope of hearing from my 
 lover before he took his final departure for America. 
 Oh ! the delightful anticipation to receive again 
 the sincere protestations of his love — to hear his re- 
 grets — his grief for suspecting my fidelity ! Thus 
 doubting and perplexed, I walked backwards and 
 forwards., went to bed, rose again, and, relighting 
 my candle, sat down to read. But I could not ab- 
 stract my thoughts. 
 
 About ten in the morning, I was waked by a fe- 
 male voice, exceeding in sweetness what I had ever 
 heard. Methought at first it was the music of an- 
 gels, and I saw them fluttering with their brilliant 
 wings around my bed, and anon reclining on an 
 azure cloud, while a heavenly smile beamed on the 
 countenances of these celestial youths as they sere- 
 naded me. When I awoke, and still hearing the 
 eu chanting sound, I discovered that the person 
 having this delightful voice was a lady that occu- 
 pied apartments above mine. 
 
 On Sunday morning, at church, I saw that a 
 young gentleman eyed me with an intense iuterest 
 during the service/ I was veiled, seldom looked 
 up, and never in the direction where he was sit- 
 ting : but still I could easily see his motions. On 
 reaching home, I looked behind me, and saw him 
 following at a short distance. Nest day, I met 
 
•236 ROSIN a; or, 
 
 him on Clapham Common when walking; and I 
 could never go out but I found him watching me. 
 He never spoke to me but once ; when I turned 
 about, as if I had not heard him. He gave me 
 much uneasiness, and I was compelled to give up 
 my usual walks. 
 
 One day, after performing a new piece of music, 
 the maid of the lady who lived above me, came 
 with her mistress’s compliments, begging the loan 
 of the music she had just heard. I complied ; and 
 this led to an intimacy. She was the daughter of 
 an opulent gentleman at Exeter, who had articled 
 her to a professor of music in London. Her stipu- 
 lated time had expired : but not meeting with an 
 engagement to her mind, she had taken private 
 lodgings, in order to pursue her studies without in- 
 terruption. She was about twenty years of age, 
 had an inexhaustible fund of wit, and an enticing 
 sweetness of temper. 
 
 In a few days, an adventure befel me, that show- 
 ed how imprudent it is for a young woman to ad- 
 mit the familiarity of strangers. One evening, I 
 went to the window for the benefit of the air. I 
 was reflecting on the causes that could have pre- 
 vented Captain Boss from writing, when Miss Jen- 
 kinson, the lady I am speaking of, came into my 
 chamber, and asked me to honour her with my 
 company at supper. * I am extremely dull to-day,* 
 said she, ‘ and I know nobody but yourself that 
 can divert my melancholy. Let us sing and play a 
 little ; and have a good refreshment. It’s of no 
 use to be eternally pining and grieving.’ I agreed 
 to what she advanced. 
 
 At supper, she was very sprightly ; and her in- 
 genious turns of wit and drollery made me laugh 
 heartily. But I could not approve of some expres- 
 sions she let fall from time to time. When this 
 happened, I looked grave and displeased! but then 
 she mimicked my countenance, and laughed me out 
 of my preciseness. 4 Are we not alone ?’ said she : 
 * nobody hears us ; and may we not, as friends of 
 
THE VIRTUOtJS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 237 
 
 the same sex, make a little amends for the severe 
 restraints imposed upon us ? Believe me, my dear, 
 the prude is seldom the most virtuous.’ 
 
 After supper, she made some excellent wine-ne- 
 gus, which pleased me much, and I drank more 
 freely than usual. I grew so cheerful that I sang 
 a song, which I had never before done in company. 
 Miss Jenkinson pretended to be surprised and de- 
 lighted with the sweetness of my voice. ‘ Really, 
 Mrs. Boyd,’ said she, ‘ you are altogether a charm- 
 ing creature ; nor do I wonder at your having been 
 married so young, for you must have had a crowd 
 of ardent admirers. You are now in the right to 
 shun men’s company, or you would be eternally 
 persecuted by their importunities.’ I replied that 
 I was not insensible to the many attractions she 
 
 E ossessed. ‘ I frankly confess,’ said she, ‘ that I 
 ave been in danger by the intrigues of men of ad- 
 dress ; but I have studied them well, and I can now 
 laugh at them in security. No man should deceive 
 me now with his bows, humble kneelings, heart- 
 breakings, sighs, tears, and all the other artillery of 
 lovers. I once produced much merriment by act- 
 ing the lover; and now that I am a little maddish, 
 I will amuse you with an exhibition that perhaps 
 has been performed before you more than once ; 
 and I’ll bet a wager you confess that, had I not 
 warned you, you would not know me in my dis- 
 guise.’ 
 
 Just as I was speaking, somebody knocked at the 
 door. ‘ Who the duce is this,’ she cried, ‘ coming 
 to interrupt us? Go see,’ continued she to the 
 maid, ‘ I am not at home to any body but my friend 
 Miss Morgan. She is an amusing companion ; but 
 for any other, mum.’ But Miss Morgan was an- 
 nounced. ‘ Oh ! my dear friend,’ exclaimed Miss 
 Jenkinson, ‘ you have just come in time to see the 
 after-piece.’ Miss Morgan inquired very gravely 
 what she meant ; and being informed, ‘ You can't 
 imagine,’ said she to me joyfully, ‘ how diverting 
 she is in men’s clothes. But make haste,’ said she 
 
238 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 to her friend ; 1 it grows late, and I must not stay.’ 
 
 The gentleman soon made his appearance, wear- 
 ing a handsome mask ; a precaution I thought Miss 
 J enkinson had adopted to render the scene more 
 natural. The pantomine began by a variety of 
 extravagant gestures. When he approached, and 
 I tried to remove the mask, he pretended to resent 
 it, and to revenge himself by preferring Miss Mor- 
 gan to me. Hearing bim whisper a word into the 
 ear of the latter, I became suspicious: and noticing 
 his hands, I was convinced it was not Miss Jenkin- 
 son. 
 
 I rose intending to slip away ; but this was pre- 
 vented; But on alleging a necessity for withdraw- 
 ing, and speaking out without an appearance of 
 mistrust, the maid conducted me into another room, 
 ‘which had a door communicating with the stairs. I 
 darted through it, and swiftly ran down stairs, 
 thanking heaven for my preservation, and resolv- 
 ing to be more circumspect in making acquaint- 
 ances. 
 
 Miss Jenkinson begged me to open the door, to 
 which I made no answer ; and she returned morti- 
 fied at being the dupe of her own plot. I began to 
 muse on this adventure ; and hearing footsteps, I 
 looked through the key-hole, and I perceived Miss 
 Morgan pass, leaning on the arm of a gentleman, 
 whom I instantly recognized to be the same that I 
 had seen at church. 
 
 The next day, Miss Jenkinson came to see me, 
 but was refused admittance. She then wrote to 
 me; but I returned her note unopened. She talk- 
 ed with Peggy, and expressed her surprise that I 
 should quarrel with her a harmless frolic. 
 
 Just at this time, Peggy entered, and announced 
 the only stranger to whom I had never to be de- 
 nied — the husband of my friend St. Agnes. He 
 showed me the copy of a letter from the nuncio to 
 the English minister, wherein he expressed his con- 
 fidence in finally liberating St. Agnes from her 
 vows; but as the bishop of the diocese in which the 
 
TIIE, VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 239 
 
 convent was situated had started some unforeseen 
 doubts, he had been obliged to refer them to his 
 superiors at Rome. Poor Forbes had been in Scot- 
 land, and had hurried back to be ready to receive 
 his wife on landing, but was again doomed to ex- 
 perience the pangs of disappointment. He had an 
 air of sad melancholy, and I was obliged to cheer 
 him by all the arguments I could muster. He beg- 
 ged me to accompany him home, on a visit to his 
 mother, the Honourable Lady Forbes ; but at this 
 time I declined the invitation, not daring to appear 
 in town again. 
 
 My disconsolate friend had just retired, when the 
 postman brought me a letter. I paid the postage 
 with great agitation, as I knew it to be the hand- 
 writing of captain Ross. I trembled to open a let- 
 ter which might extinguish the few sparks of hope 
 that cheered my heart. At last, I read as follows : 
 
 * My amiable friend, 
 
 * Excuse me for the anxiety you must have suffered 
 since you had reason to expect my promised intelligence ; 
 but I must not pester you with what concerns myself, 
 while you are expiring with impatience to hear of ano- 
 ther. Lemington had gone to shoot on the moors for 
 three days on the morning of my arrival. I could not 
 learn to a certainty in what direction he had gone ; so I 
 thought it safer to watch his return in Cork, than to run 
 the risk of losing him in a wild chase. On the second 
 morning, while dressing, I accidentally looked through 
 my window towards the harbour, and saw the Syren un- 
 der weigh. I was distressed— I knew not what to do. I 
 had faithfully promised you what I had vowed as faith- 
 fully to perform ; and now I must be viewed by you as 
 wanting in zeal. The idea was insupportable ; so I ran 
 down to the harbour, and. jumping into a pilot-boat 
 which was just coming in, I promised the men a hand- 
 some reward to row me to the sloop of war then under 
 sail. They accepted the offer, and by great exertion we 
 reached the vessel. Lemington did not recognize me un- 
 til I had mounted the deck, when he expressed his sur- 
 prise by a sudden exclamation ; recoilecting himself, he 
 assumed a lofty port, and coldly remarked that he had 
 not anticipated the honour of such a visit. The captain 
 said that the repairs had not been completed, but that he 
 could finish what remained to be done with his own car- 
 
240 ROSIN A y OR, 
 
 penter ; and that, wishing to lose no time, he had sent an 
 express for his lordship, who had arrived but an hour be- 
 fore he sailed. 
 
 * I then turned to the earl, and asked him if he would 
 favour me with a few minutes conversation in the cabin. 
 He bowed assent. I began, • Remington, I am your rival.* 
 4 You were so,’ he hastily replied. — ‘ I am so, still,' I ob- 
 served. — ‘ Say no more,' exclaimed he, peevishly ; * I can- 
 not — I will not listen.’— ‘But you shall, my lord,’ con* 
 tinued I with all the energy I felt. * I know you well ; 
 you cannot tear the dear innate of the pure, the beauti- 
 ful Rosina from your heart. She still reigns there, and 
 she merits the honour. You have, my lord, very foolish- 
 ly committed suicide upon your own happiness. You 
 have, on the most groundless suspicions, planted a dag- 
 ger in one of the warmest hearts that ever did beat in a 
 human bosom ; yet, like an innocent and loving lamb, 
 she licks the hand raised to sacrifice her happiness. I too 
 love ; for who can avoid it ? I have used all my address 
 to detect the secret emotions of her soul, and I find her 
 heart is yours alone. Convinced of this, I resign all hope. 
 Never can I expect the heart of this charming creature. 
 Yet, from a proper feeling for her unmerited sufferings, 
 and from a wish to promote your happiness, I have come 
 hither to speak the truth. Your harshness has not di- 
 minished her love : therefore. I repeat it, do I no longer 
 hope. In this sense your lordship may be right ; I am no 
 longer your rival.* 
 
 4 I then recapitulated all the circumstances that had 
 given him offence, pointed out his errors and misconcep- 
 tions, drew a just picture of the distress you have suffer- 
 ed, and repeated the injunctions that your pride and 
 delicacy had extorted from me on my departure. I had 
 scarcely finished when the captain came below, and in- 
 formed me that the wind was rising, and that my safety 
 would be endangered if I stayed any longer. 
 
 * Remington never spoke. He seemed bewildered. — I 
 observed that he trembled and walked unsteadily, as he 
 followed me upon deck. I said, ‘ Adieu, Remington,' and 
 offered him my hand, which he grasped. The tears gush- 
 ed out of his eyes ; and, in a voice, choked with the vio- 
 lence of his emotions, he articulated, ‘ Rosina /’ I ac- 
 knowledged by a nod that I understood him, and in a 
 moment, we were separated. 
 
 ‘ Now. my charming friend, is it not as I predicted ? 
 You were never so intensely beloved by Remington, as 
 you are at this moment. You will be sufficiently reveng- 
 ed before he returns ; for he will undergo an eternity ol 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 541 
 
 the most delightful distress, if I may use such an expres- 
 sion. But I am sure that nothing but his duty to his 
 country prevented him from returning on shore, and has- 
 tening, like an humble penitent, to sue for mercy at your 
 feet. 
 
 ‘ I may add, that in jumping from the vessel’s side into 
 the boat, I dislocated my thumb, which for some days 
 has prevented me from writing ; and I durst not trust a 
 stranger with secrets so dear, so delicate and so valuable. 
 Be happy, Rosina, and in future look upon me as 
 
 * Your affectionate brother, 
 
 James Ross/ 
 
 I wept with joy and tenderness on perusing this 
 epistle. Sometimes I doubted Captain Ross’s dis- 
 cernment, as his friend had said nothing positive. 
 But these unpleasant suspicions I soon dismissed, 
 on reflecting on the singular penetration which the 
 captain had always displayed in reading the secrets 
 of the human heart. 
 
 But the joy I then experienced was soon check- 
 ed ; for Peggy entered to inform me that an elderly 
 gentleman wished to see me on particular business. 
 Glenford occurred to my imagination. I changed 
 colour and felt at a loss how to proceed. 4 Is it the 
 old lord ?’ asked I. — ‘ Oh, no,* replied Peggy : ‘it’s 
 a mere man, as thin as a lath, and who looks as if 
 he was always too late for dinner/ 4 But does he 
 look respectable T — 4 How can he,’ replied my aunt, 
 with his belly sticking to his back ?’ — 4 Bring him 
 up stairs/ Peggy obeyed. 
 
 As the stranger entered, I exclaimed, 4 Ah ! my 
 good friend, Mr. Evans, how glad I am to see 
 you !’ The old man, who was Sir William Beck- 
 ford’s confidential clerk, and who had conducted 
 me to Calais, started back, and said, 4 Can this be 
 my young favourite, Miss Hawkins ? I am the 
 messenger of bad tidings. But you must have 
 been familiar with sorrow — as you have been a 
 bride and a widow nearly together.’ I made no 
 answer ; but I handed him a chair. I knew well 
 his habits, and I determined to await the result 
 patiently and quietly. 
 
 P 
 
242 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 After spreading out his gloves upon the table, he) 
 placed his hat upon them, so as to prevent it from 
 receiving any dirt. He then drew forth his spec- 
 tacle-case, and his glasses were placed upon his 
 nose. Then he pulled out a large pocket-book, 
 from which he took a letter. He began, ‘ Miss, I 
 beg pardon — Mrs. Boyd, I have had much trouble 
 in finding you. Having received this letter, with a 
 request to see it properly delivered, I went to the 
 house in Parliament Street. When I asked for 
 Mrs. Boyd, the mistress of the house observed that 
 I was an old man to be a candidate for the favour 
 of so young a lady. But I told her that neither 
 my time nor my temper would permit me to enjoy 
 jests. ‘ My dear old man,’ said she, ‘ I cannot 
 direct you how to recover the lost lady. Such a 
 person could not be allowed to remain in so respect- 
 able a house. I could not remove her before the 
 term agreed upon was expired ; but I could remove 
 myself. So, being absent at Margate, my pretty 
 lodger packed up her scanty wardrobe, and fled 
 with her paramour ; but whither I neither can tell, 
 nor do I care. I wish you a good morning.’ Then 
 I inquired of a friend, who resided close by. He 
 said that he would not have known that a Mrs. Boyd 
 lived at Mr. Myrick’s, had he not seen so many of 
 the nobility frequent the house, who were visitors 
 of a lady of that name. I was just going to return 
 the letter, when Mr. Forbes called with one to in- 
 close in our packet, and to whom I related my dis- 
 appointment. He offered to bring you this letter; 
 but as I had been instructed to see it delivered in 
 person, I declined his offer ; and, having obtained 
 your address, I drove hither. Never did I suspect 
 that Mrs. Boyd was my sweet young lady, or I 
 should have affronted the bad woman who traduced 
 your character.’ ‘ Pray, my good Mr. Evans,’ said 
 I, ‘ do have the goodness to give me the letter.’ — 
 4 Oh ! aye, the letter. I am sorry that its contents 
 will wound your tender heart. But there is an ap- 
 pointed time for man to live; and death is the 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 243 
 
 por — ‘ Death !’ exclaimed I, ‘ who ? — what do 
 
 you mean — ‘ Do not sorrow like those without 
 hope, my dear lady,’ rejoined he. ‘ Sir William 
 Beckford was ’ ‘ Sir William Beckford !’ inter- 
 
 rupted I, ‘ Dead ! gone ! Oh ! the good, dear, gen- 
 erous man ! He is in heaven : but where is my 
 best of mothers? where is Lady Beckford?’ — 
 ‘ Bead,’ said Evens, putting the letter into my 
 hand. 
 
 I tried to read ; but the tears filled my eyes, and 
 I could not see. I went into my bed-chamber — I 
 gave scope to the feeling that oppressed me. In 
 time I read Lady Beckford’s long and affectionate 
 letter. From this I learned that the wicked Miss 
 Lambe had still been pursuing me. She got Lady 
 Beckford informed that I had jilted Lemington, 
 and, with an assumed name, lived under the pro- 
 tection of Captain Boss ; that I occupied splendid 
 lodgings, and was living in the most extravagant 
 style on the wages of iniquity. Beceiving, imme- 
 diately after, a letter from me, in which I highly 
 extolled Captain Boss, she was much surprised, and 
 wrote to a friend in London, who, on inquiry, 
 found that I did occupy magnificent apartments in 
 the house of a woman of very dubious character, 
 and that I did receive frequent visits from Captain 
 Boss. Lady Beckford declared, that nothing ex- 
 cept the death of her own daughter had ever 
 grieved her so much. Her ladyship detailed the 
 illness of her worthy husband, who was ordered to 
 try the waters at Spa in Germany. There he 
 rapidly declined in strength, and died with the ut- 
 most tranquillity. Previous to his death, he had 
 received a letter from the Earl of Lemington, filled 
 with the most ardent expressions of love for Bosina. 
 This had given them great pleasure, as it showed 
 the falsehood and malice of the reports circulated 
 to my prejudice. Excessive fatigue and constant 
 watching had injured her ladyship’s health ; but 
 still she expected soon to embrace me in London. 
 
 I felt the death of my excellent patron, as if I 
 
244 
 
 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 had lost a parent ; but I rejoiced at the prospect of 
 rejoining Lady Beckford, for I found that I could 
 not live alone without being exposed to the cruel- 
 lest suspicions, and endangered by the devices and 
 plots of unprincipled persons. The hope of being 
 able to soothe and lessen the griefs of Lady Beck- 
 ford, mixed up with the prospect of Lemington’s 
 speedy return, produced an undefined kind of quiet 
 melancholy, in which pain and pleasure was nearly 
 balanced. I prevailed upon Mr. Evans to take a 
 biscuit and a glass of wine, and to defer the mak- 
 ing up of his packet for Spa until the next day, 
 when I promised to have a letter ready for my af- 
 flicted friend. 
 
 About a week after this, I took up a newspapei 
 carelessly ; when the words, 1 Syren sloop of war,’ 
 struck me, — ‘ We are daily receiving accounts of 
 the terrible effects of the late tremendous gales. 
 The Glenora, Thompson, of Liverpool, from Quebec, 
 put into Cork on the 5th, having lost her fore-top- 
 mast, jib and main-booms, on the 12th ult ; and on 
 the 14th she was struck with a tremendous wave, 
 that stove in her bulwarks, and swept the mate and 
 three others of the crew into the deep. Next morn- 
 ing, the wind being still N. N. W. blowing a hur- 
 ricane, the captain saw a large Dutch-built vessel 
 go down, within half a league. About one o’clock 
 P. M. saw a vessel water-logged, and which, from 
 some pieces of wreck picked up, the captain thinks 
 must have been the Syren sloop of war. It is much 
 to be feared that this vessel, which was carrying 
 the Earl of Lemington out to New York, is lost, 
 with all the crew.’ 
 
 What passed after reading this distracting para- 
 graph I know not ; but, above an hour afterwards, 
 I found myself in bed, surrounded by strange faces, 
 nnd Peggy kneeling and weeping beside me. I 
 started, and inquired wildly what had happened. 
 But the terrible idea of Lemington lying in the 
 depth of the ocean rushed upon my mind, and I 
 cried with affright, ‘ Ah ! he has sunk ! — he will 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 245 
 
 rise no more! Let me die with him.’ A gentle- 
 man present said, ‘ Trust in God : he cannot de- 
 ceive you, nor will he ever abandon the destitute/ 
 I perceived he was the clergyman I had heard 
 preach in Lambeth parish church, and I felt com- 
 forted at his presence. Peggy, in her fright, had 
 sent for him when I was not likely to recover from 
 my swoon. 
 
 I looked upon the presence of this minister of re- 
 ligion, as a providential occurrence; and therefore 
 I answered, that the newspaper had informed me 
 of the death of a person who was very dear to me, 
 as my future husband. He accommodated himself 
 to my weakness, and argued on the little credit 
 that ought to be given to the vague reports of the 
 public prints, which were published with great 
 haste and carelessness ; and he impressed upon my 
 mind the folly and sinfulness of repining at the 
 wise dispensations of providence. 
 
 Then a tall thin man stalked in. He had a mon- 
 strous wig, and a small three- c ked hat under his 
 arm. He had several brilliant rings on his fingers, 
 which were almost covered with rufiles. He calm- 
 ly laid down his hat and cane, and, pulling out a 
 large watch, he abruptly seized my hand. The odd 
 appearance of the man, and the suddenness of the 
 action, caused me to utter a loud scream. ‘ That,’ 
 said he, 4 is an unequivocal symptom of mania, in 
 its primitive stage ; and is accompanied by a quick, 
 hard, irregular pulse, vehement restlessness, violent 
 head-ache, redness of the face, impatience of noise, 
 suspicion, and an erroneous perception of men and 
 things.’— 4 Yes, madam,’ replied he to an aged fe- 
 male, ‘ it is by a kind of divine interposition that I, 
 a poor, humble instrument, am here. Well, now I 
 will explain to you the profound and unnatural 
 nature of this lady’s disorder. When the heart is 
 shaken and agitated, the blood is ejected with a 
 volcanic and furious velocity, and, darting like 
 lightning from the ventricle through the veins, 
 mounts up into the brain with incredible precipi- 
 
246 ROSIN A; OR, 
 
 tancy, and there, by an impetuous motion, disar- 
 ranges the perceptions, ideas, or motions of the 
 soul ; and to free which from such dangerous at- 
 tacks, it is necessary to employ the noble art of 
 healing. For this purpose, I will commence opera- 
 tions by a copious bleeding. This must be repeat- 
 ed during seven days ; and each night, twelve 
 leaches must be applied to the temples of the pa- 
 tient.’ I cried out, ‘ Dear sir, there is no need for 
 such remedies.’ On which, he turned to simple 
 Peggy, and said, ‘ Bun instantly for Mr. Sharp, the 
 surgeon : tell him to bring his lancets, for another 
 fit is coming on.’— ‘ What do you mean, sir,' I ex- 
 claimed. ‘ Do you imagine I am mad ?* * God for- 
 bid, madam,’ said he, ‘ we’ll set you up again, 
 please God.’ Then, turning to his admiring friend, 
 he said, in a low tone of voice, ‘ We live, madam, 
 in very degenerate days. The faculty have lost all 
 rational views of the diseases of the human body. 
 They hate and envy me ; but I am preparing a 
 book, that will at once silence and confound them. 
 
 I will feed this patient with toast and water, and 
 with barley-water. Every morning I will admin- 
 ister an ounce of Glauber salts, which must be 
 worked off with lukewarm water. I will alleviate 
 the irritation of the bowels by giving every even- 
 ing a clyster of twelve ounces of warm water, and 
 six ounces of linseed tea. And should a fit come 
 on, cold effusions must be used, by pouring upon 
 her head three buckets of cold spring water. The 
 
 head also must be shaved, and blisters ’ But 
 
 my exclamations of fear interrupted the recital of 
 his murderous designs : and Peggy ran to me. 
 ‘ Alas !’ exclaimed I, ‘ my good woman, Peggy, if 
 you have any regard for me, cause that terrible 
 doctor to leave the room. The sight of him makes 
 me tremble.’ — ‘Is Mr. Sharp coming?’ demanded 
 the doctor, without regarding what I said. ‘ Oh ! 
 here he is,’ continued he, seeing the surgeon enter 
 the room. ‘ Come, sir, the operation must not be 
 delayed. I order in this case, profuse venesection, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 247 
 
 and will direct its extent by the indication of the 
 patient’s pulse. The surgeon produced a fillet and 
 his lancets, and called for warm water. I made 
 signs to Peggy to draw the curtains ; when, catch- 
 ing up a gown, I slipped out at the bed foot, dart- 
 ed into the adjoining room, and bolted the door in 
 the twinkling of an eye. 
 
 ‘There,’ bellowed out the doctor, ‘is another 
 proof of outrageous madness. None but patients 
 labouring under this dreadful malady would fly 
 from proper remedies, or look upon their best 
 friends as enemies. We must break open the door. 
 She must be pursued and bound. Fearing that the 
 door would be forced, I threatened to call out at 
 the window for help. — ‘ What has happened ?’ in- 
 quired my landlady, entering the room. — ‘ Oh ! 
 madam, save me,’ said I ; ‘ a strange man wants to 
 kill me, by bleeding, blistering, drowning, and 
 starving. Oh! protect me.’ — ‘What can this 
 mean?’ muttered she, while she opened the door, 
 and out walked the neighbourly lady, the surgeon, 
 and the physician. ‘ Pray, sir,’ said my landlady 
 to Doctor Pennyman, ‘ who authorized you to in- 
 trude into this lady’s bed-chamber ? She never re- 
 quired your services ; and I beg you to walk out of 
 my house. Surely,’ addressing her neighbour, 
 ‘ you were not so foolish as to introduce this dis- 
 gusting piece of cant and quackery? Observing 
 the state of affairs, I opened my purse, and dismiss- 
 ed him with a handsome fee. This ludicrous ad- 
 venture left such a strong impression upon mjr 
 mind, that I never afterwards could relish eithei 
 physicians or prescriptions, and will certainly nevei 
 use either except in a very urgent case. 
 
 When left alone, I began to revolve in my mind 
 the causes that had produced such confusion ; and 
 I found that the quack’s visit, however annoying, 
 had counteracted the violence of my grief, and re- 
 stored the tone of my mind. I now felt compara- 
 tively calm ; and, on looking over the alarming 
 paragraph, I found the article was not so positive ; 
 
248 
 
 KOSINA ; OK, 
 
 but left room to doubt, and this afforded me a lit- 
 tle hope. While pursuing these soothing reflec- 
 tions, I fell asleep. Peggy persisted in w atching 
 me, and at length fell asleep. I thought it best not 
 to awake her ; and happy it was that my consider- 
 ation for this faithful servant prevailed, as the 
 sequel will show. 
 
 My trouble and agitation through the day, caused 
 me to have a terrific dream. Methought I saw a 
 vessel crowded with men, driving with violence 
 through a most tremendous sea, without masts or 
 rudder. At last, she disappeared, and the ocean 
 rolled over her. The monsters of the deep gaped 
 voraciously. From a dark cave a gristly figure 
 issued, bearing over his shoulder the corpse of the 
 Earl of Lemington ; his hair hanging about his 
 shoulders, his eyes fixed in death, and his lips dis- 
 coloured. I snatched the body into my arms; 
 when the enraged phantom attempted to seize me 
 by the throat. Then Captain Boss appeared, and 
 with his sword protected me, while I fled ; but 
 the slippery sea-weeds impeded my progress, and 
 my monstrous pursuer grew in height and dimen- 
 sions, so as to render our destruction inevitable. 
 Stretching out his supernatural arm, he seized Cap- 
 tain Boss by the legs, whirled him round his enor- 
 mous head, and dashed him into a hideous pit. 
 The earl gave me a most mournful look ; while the 
 gigantic hand of the destroyer was descending to 
 sacrifice us. I started with horror ; when, hearing 
 my bed-curtains drawn back, I raised my head, and 
 discovered a man standing over me, armed with a 
 poniard, which he pointed to my breast, saying, 
 * You are dead if you make the least noise. Your 
 purse or your life this instant. 
 
 Peggy > w ho began to doze, as I said before, did 
 not sleep soundly. She heard the robber breathe in 
 a small closet in my bed-room ; but instead of giv- 
 ing way to fear, she with great presence of mind, 
 rose and muttered, so as to be heard, that, since X 
 had got to bed and wanted nothing, she would go 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 249 
 
 to her own snug bed. But instead of that, she 
 stole softly down stairs, and ran for assistance to 
 the house of a master tailor, a few yards distance, 
 and whose men were sitting up to finish an order. 
 The master sent his apprentice for the watch, and 
 hastened with his two journeymen to the house, 
 just as I had risen to deliver my money to the rob- 
 ber. Being thus detected, the wretch dropped the 
 poniard, and, falling upon his knees, begged for 
 mercy. 
 
 The thief was instantly secured ; he was a por- 
 ter, whom I had often employed. He confessed 
 his intention of robbing me; but protested that 
 during fifty years he had lived honestly, though 
 now extreme poverty and the wants of a sickly 
 wife and ten children had driven him upon this 
 wickedness. He said, that, in giving him sixpence 
 that morning, he saw that my purse contained a 
 quantity of gold, and that was a temptation which 
 he could not resist. He entreated me to save his 
 life with such pathos and abundance of tears that 
 I yielded, on condition that he never again ap- 
 proached my house. I then told the tailors to re- 
 lease him ; and giving them a guinea, they depart- 
 ed well satisfied, A minute later, and the unhappy 
 man’s escape would have been impossible, as two 
 watchmen entered by the front door as Peggy was 
 conveying him out by the back door. 
 
 Next morning, the poor man’s wife called to 
 thank me for my goodness, in setting her husband 
 at liberty. * Oh ! madam,’ she said, ‘ my poor 
 Balph will never be happy again. He believes the 
 devil was in him *, for now that he has his senses, 
 he could not find in his heart to hurt such a sweet 
 angel. He has cried and prayed beside me all 
 night/ — ‘ Well,’ said I, ‘ if the devil has really gone 
 out of your mistaken husband, I hope he will never 
 be permitted to re-enter. There are two guineas 
 for you/ As for my dear aunt Peggy, to whom I 
 owed my life, I promised not to forget my obliga* 
 tions to her, 
 
250 * osin a; or, 
 
 These shocks, however, affected my health ; and 
 I grew melancholy and weak. The clergyman 
 talked to me like a father, and sometimes insisted 
 that I should take the air upon Clapham Common, 
 in a hired carriage. These excursions revived me, 
 though neither prudence nor economy suffered me 
 to repeat them often. While riding slowly along 
 the road from Clapham one evening, a man rode 
 up to my chaise, and stared at me very impudently. 
 I did not at first recognize him ; but on a second 
 glance, I knew him to be Mr. Frazer. He nodded 
 in a very familar manner, and, with a peculiar leer, 
 lifted his hat. At this moment, a stage-coach was 
 approaching to pass, and he was obliged to fall 
 back ; when I ordered my post-boy to drive quick, 
 and I would reward him. The lad obeyed, and off 
 we flew with great rapidity. 
 
 This Frazer, it will be recollected, was the com- 
 panion of Lord Glenfield when I first saw him at 
 Richmond. He had originally emigrated from the 
 Highlands of Scotland; and, from the humblest 
 situations in life, had wriggled himself into some 
 distinction. He had accumulated much wealth. 
 Having a smattering of learning, and knowing all 
 the scandal of high life, he was very useful to the 
 Earl of Glenford. He assisted his lordship in his 
 intrigues, cheered him when confined with the 
 gout, and, in company, was the humble butt of his 
 wit. 
 
 Just as I had laid aside my hat and cloak, Peggy 
 opened the door, saying, 1 Madam, a strange gen- 
 tleman insists upon seeing you, as he has business 
 of im — Lord ! mistress,’ she continued, ‘ here’s 
 the man. He has followed me ; but I assure your 
 ladyship’s honour that I said as you bid me.’ Fra- 
 zer stalked past her, with a self-satisfied air ; and 
 after making a profound, but awkward bow, he sat 
 down without invitation. I was vexed at the pro- 
 voking insolence of the fellow. 
 
 After clearing his throat, and stroking his chin, 
 Frazer opened the conversation with a leering 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 251 
 
 smile. ‘ Ah ! thou sweet rose of Sharon, why wilt 
 thou blossom unseen in this wilderness ? Suffer 
 thy humble servant to pluck thee from amongst 
 these weeds, and to stick thee in my bosom.’ — ‘ Mr. 
 Frazer,’ said I, ‘ how dared you thus to intrude 
 upon a lady’s privacy ?’ — ‘ Aye, I love thee tenfold 
 more for this pretty ebullition of spirits. The lovely 
 dove turns with seeming shame from the soft 
 cooings of her fond mate.’ — ‘Are you mad, sir?’ 
 exclaimed I ; or are you studying to insult me ?’— 
 
 * As David saw Bathsheba in all her womanly love- 
 liness, and she found favour in his sight, so I have 
 observed thy native charms, and I am neither a 
 stock nor a stone.’ — ‘Pray, sir,’ said I, ‘go and 
 utter your nonsense elsewhere, for I have neither 
 time nor inclination to listen to it.’ — ‘Well, now, 
 be calm, my bonny lammy.’ — ‘ I have nothing to 
 do with this balderdash,’ returned I : ‘ all I desire 
 is that you quit my apartment.’—* I doat upon 
 thee, and thou couldst see me blow out my brains. 
 Is that as it should be ?’ — ‘ Oh !’ said I, ‘ there is no 
 fear of your blowing out what is not in ; and add- 
 ed, ‘ If you do not depart instantly, I shall repre- 
 sent your conduct t the Earl of Glenford.’ 
 
 Frazer now rose, flushed with anger, and said, 
 ‘Very pretty, madam, very pretty indeed. But- I 
 would have you to know that I am no lord’s slave. 
 My family is more ancient than that of Lord Glen- 
 ford ; for the heads of our house were the favour- 
 ites at the Scottish court for ages before the days 
 of King David. I can boast noble, if not royal 
 blood. Then, I am nearly as rich as Glenford 
 himself ; for I don’t care a straw about any bug- 
 bear of a lord. I know your affairs better than you 
 do yourself. In the first place. Miss Lambe has 
 done up your character very well. Then Glenford 
 is an unprincipled, impotent goat. He is deter- 
 mined to have you, and then he will abandon you, 
 according to his ancient custom. There's Captain 
 Boss, as poor as a church-mouse ; and, as for Lem- 
 iugton, he’s engaged to the only daughter of a 
 
252 rosina; or, 
 
 nobleman, who has promised to make him a gen- 
 eral as quickly as the rules of the service will per- 
 mit. To hope for good from any of these quarters 
 is folly ; while your father and mother are in a 
 state of beggary. Now, I intend to make a real 
 lady of you. I promise that you shall have the 
 prettiest cottage near London, with a small palfrey 
 for exercise, besides a round income of five hundred 
 pounds sterling per annum ; and to show the sin- 
 cerity of my affection, an annuity of two hundred 
 pounds in case of accident, beside — — * Flushed 
 with indignation, I darted into my bed-chamber ; 
 but on attempting to shut the door, he put his foot 
 against it, crying out, 4 My dear ! — my pet J’ I 
 screamed out lustily, and called for help. 
 
 A gentleman burst into the room, crying, 4 Don’t 
 terrify yourself , madam ; I will protect you.’ Then 
 turning to Frazer, he said, in a stern voice, ‘ Sir, as 
 your company is not agreeable to the lady, I desire 
 you to face about, and march off instantly.’ — 4 Oh ! 
 sir,’ said Frazer, 4 there is no necessity for big airs. 
 I’m off at present ; but this lady will not find me so 
 docile next time. She must be civil, or it is in my 
 
 power to -’ *No, you bad man,’ said Peggy, 
 
 who had also entered, ‘ it is not in your power to 
 harm my sweet mistress; so walk off.’ Saying 
 which, she pushed him towards the door. 
 
 Turning round, I saw the very man who had 
 followed me in all my walks, and whom my fellow 
 lodger, Miss Jenkinson, had introduced under the 
 disguise of a mask. I said, ‘ Sir, accept my thanks 
 for your kindness. The person you found here in- 
 truded into my apartment, and his conversation was 
 such as I could not with propriety listen to. His 
 attempt to follow me into my chamber induced me 
 to give the alarm. Again I thank you : it is all I 
 have to give.’ 4 Sweet creature,’ said the gentle- 
 man, 4 1 was never so truly happy as at this mo- 
 ment, if ’ and he hesitated ; on which I said 
 
 quickly, 4 Sir, I wish you a good evening ; I de- 
 sire to be alone.* 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 253 
 
 Never did I experience such mental torture and 
 such deep humiliation as at this time. Lemington 
 betrothed to a nobleman’s daughter! This explain- 
 ed the whole mystery of his cruel conduct. This 
 was the cause of the court-favour he had lately en- 
 joyed. Captain Ross too — there I was again pain- 
 ed ; the generous man was poor— yet I had accepted 
 the pecuniary favours he had forced upon me. My 
 old enemy, Miss Lambe, was also still at work. 
 
 ‘ Your character is gone,’ said Frazer. Oh ! how 
 loathsome is even life itself after the esteem of 
 mankind is forfeited I had watched myself — I 
 had unceasingly guarded • myself ; yet a thousand 
 circumstances might easily be distorted to my pre- 
 judice. My father and my mother too in a state of 
 beggary. ‘ Oh my God !’ I exclaimed, in an agony 
 of grief, ‘ what a wretched creature I am ! To 
 abandon my humble, innocent home — to hunt after 
 vain shadows — and to leave my affectionate pa- 
 rents exposed to want and to grief ! I have health 
 — I have hands— I was born to labour— and when 
 these soft indolent habits are vanished, I may still 
 be able to labour. The fear of my enemies has pre- 
 vented me from informing my parents of my mo- 
 tions or place of abode ; yet this secresy is rendered 
 of no use by the active malignity of my foes, who 
 will never cease to persecute me until I am brought 
 down to my original level, while my parents must 
 be heart-broken by the many slanderous stories 
 reported concerning me. 
 
 At eleven o’clock Peggy tapped at my door, and 
 asked if I wanted any thing. I said ‘No;’ and 
 flung myself upon my bed, and tossed about all 
 night, while my brain burned with the intensity of 
 thought. I had requested Peggy never to disturb 
 me in the morning until my bell rung ; and at this 
 time she observed my injunction with punctuality. 
 Ten o’clock struck, and no Peggy appeared. I 
 arose and dressed myself. ‘ Well,’ said I to my- 
 self, ‘ Even my own servant, once so attentive and 
 affectionate, treats me with neglect.’ 
 
254 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 While I was musing, Peggy entered. ‘ Beg pardon, 
 madam,’ said she ; ‘ but surely you must want break- 
 fast now.’ — ‘ I want nothing,’ said I, peevishly, 
 ‘ go.’ — ‘ Dear madam,’ said she, ‘if you do not for- 
 give me, you will break my poor heart. I have 
 not attended to my duty properly ; but now that 
 they are gone, I will make amends.’ — ‘Who are 
 gone ?’ inquired I. — ‘ Why, my poor brother Haw- 
 kins and his wife [I started] just took a step from 
 Nottinghamshire to see me. I had told them what 
 a good kind mistress I had, and how very happy I 
 was ; so they stopped here last night, and have 
 gone home in the stage ?’ — ‘ Good heavens !’ thought 
 I, ‘ have my parents then been sleeping under the 
 same roof with their unhappy daughter ? Have 
 toil and contentment sealed their eyelids in sleep, 
 while their ambitious child was enduring all the 
 
 tortures of unrequited love P Has ’ But my 
 
 feelings were so strong that I flew into my bed- 
 chamber, and gave vent to my tears. 
 
 Having recovered, I returned ; and Peggy was 
 weeping. ‘ What is the matter, Peggy ?' said I. 
 — ‘ Oh ! my dear mistress, how sorry I am to have 
 disobliged you so ; but I could not turn my own 
 flesh and blood to the door : and really my poor 
 friends had a tramp of it.’— ‘ No, Peggy, no,’ said 
 I ; ‘ you are always welcome, while in my service, 
 to see and entertain your friends ; but I am angry 
 that you did not inform me they were here, that I 
 might see them comfortably entertained.’ 
 
 ‘ Lord bless you, my dear mistress,’ replied Peggy, 
 ‘ how could I be so impudent?’ — ‘But where did 
 they sleep ?’ — ‘ Why, madam, we sat up all night, 
 talking ever old times ; and I treated them with a 
 bottle of your wine. Had you seen how merry 
 they were, and how heartily they drank your 
 health, it would have made you cry with joy as I 
 did.’— ‘ But why did you hurry them away so ?’ in- 
 quired I. — ‘ Oh ! madam,’ said she, ‘they could not 
 stay any longer ; for my brother has taken a small, 
 farm near our village, and he wished to be at home 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 255 
 
 to settle some matters.’ — 4 1 am glad to hear that, 
 Peggy,’ rejoined I ; ‘ for I understood your bro- 
 ther was too poor to commence farming.’ — 4 You 
 are very right, madam ; my brother is indeed a 
 poor man : but then he is honest, and has credit, 
 and works hard. Nor will it take much to stock 
 the farm, which contains only twelve acres : but 
 there is a good house upon it, and a garden well 
 stocked, that covers a good acre. I have saved a 
 little, and your goodness has made that little much ; 
 so I lent him money to buy two milk-cows. I say 
 I lent him the money ; for though I neither expect 
 nor would take it again, yet being in debt may 
 make him more careful. I am sorry the coach was 
 so long in setting off, for you must be famishing, 
 and — ’ 4 W ell, Peggy,’ said I, 4 you are a very 
 
 good woman for being so kind to your relations. I 
 am sorry I did not see therm But you must accept 
 of me their coach-hire.’ 
 
 4 Now, madam, you are so good, and I am so im- 
 prudent, that I fear I do not deserve so good a mis- 
 tress ; but I never took money with a bad design.’ 
 — 4 A bad design, do you say ?’ replied I ; 4 you do 
 not suppose there would be any harm in permitting 
 me to join in rendering your friends happy — 4 Oh ! 
 no, my sweet mistress, you can do nothing bad. 
 But that gentleman who turned out the tall, impu- 
 dent man, last night, slipped two guineas into my 
 hand. I ran after him with them ; but he only 
 smiled : and when I told him that all the riches ii}. 
 the world could not tempt me to do wrong to my 
 good mistress, he said I deserved two guineas more 
 for that.’ 
 
 4 Ye do all things right, Peggy,’ said I. 4 Bring 
 me a cup of coffee.’ 
 
 When Peggy returned with the coffee, I said, ‘ X 
 think, Peggy, you once mentioned a niece you had 
 — a kind of spoiled child, who had left home, and 
 who lived with some great folk. Pray, has she re- 
 turned home?’ — ‘Ah! no, madam,’ said Peggy, 
 mournfully ; 4 1 wish she was again under her fa- 
 
256 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 ther’s roof. But the last time she was heard of, 
 she was in France, dancing among French gentle- 
 men, or rather rakes. The French are, I am told, 
 a very abominable race, for they wear wooden 
 shoes, and eat nasty frogs ; and worship wooden 
 images, made by men’s hands, just like our Pa- 
 pishes.’ — ‘ Poh !’ exclaimed I, ‘ it is all nonsense. I 
 have heard something of your niece’s character, 
 and I could pledge myself for her purity and vir- 
 tue.’ — 4 May heaven’s blessing rest on your pretty 
 face for that,’ said Peggy. ‘When my brother, 
 who, after all, is rather a harsh man, has been 
 abusing his daughter, her mother always defends 
 her, and will suffer no one to speak ill of her ; and 
 she said to her husband, ‘ John Hawkins, we have 
 lived twenty years together ; but if you ever again 
 suffer friend or foe to abuse your own daughter, 
 without saying a word for her, one blanket shall 
 never again cover us.’ The story was told before 
 my brother ; and I talked to him so, and made him 
 think so much shame of himself, that he promised 
 never to allow people to tell idle stories about his 
 own child again.’ — ‘ You did right, Peggy,’ I ob- 
 served : ‘ all these stories about your niece’s follies 
 in France are invented by the malice of the Hon- 
 ourable Miss Lambe. By the bye, where is this 
 woman now ?’ — ‘ Why, madam,’ replied Peggy, ‘ she 
 is still down at the Castle, where she and the vis- 
 countess have lived since they returned from abroad, 
 at the death of Viscount Neville. Poor gentleman ! 
 he died suddenly, of some inflammatory complaint.’ 
 
 I had read in the newspapers of the death of Vis- 
 count Neville, and was told by Captain Boss of the 
 viscountess’ return to her country seat ; but I sus- 
 pected she might come up with her daughter to 
 London. 
 
 As I was looking at the newspapers for the dear 
 word Lemington,. a footman with a gaudy livery, 
 was introduced by Peggy. He bowed three times 
 very low ; and returned his profound obeisance by 
 a slight bow. He then delivered me a letter, beau- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 257 
 
 iif ully ornamented, and directed in a good hand. I 
 asked the dandy footman if he waited for an an- 
 swer. ‘ By your ladyship’s kind permission, he re- 
 plied, * I will wait your pleasure this evening at 
 nine o’clock.’ — ‘Very well,’ answered I ; when he 
 retired backwards, bowing as before. On opening 
 the letter, I glanced at the writer’s signature, 
 which was, ‘ Sir Henry Cleveland, Kennington.’ I 
 found it to be the production of the man who had 
 so often annoyed me in my walks. The style of 
 the composition was altogether so affected and in- 
 flated, that I saw the writer was a fop. 
 
 Scarcely had I perused this letter, when the post- 
 man called with another. When I cast my eye 
 upon the direction, my hand trembled, and my 
 heart fluttered. I knew the hand-writing was 
 Captain Ross’s, and I concluded that he had written 
 to prepare my mind for the melancholy fate of my 
 dear lover. The first words re-assured me, and the 
 instant revolution in my feeling was such as I 
 should vainly attempt to describe. 
 
 Captain Ross wrote as follows 
 ‘My lovely friend, 
 
 * Happy is he that bringeth good tidings ; and I parti- 
 cipate so deeply in the joy which you will experience at 
 the return of a penitent lover, that I would exchange my 
 situation with no man living. You and Lemington are 
 predestined to be one an 1 to be happy. I bow to the 
 decree ; and, as I can never hope for your love, I am 
 content to enjoy your esteem. I am stationed in the 
 castle of Dublin, but expect soon to return to England, 
 and to witness your happiness. Accept of my unfeigned 
 congratulations, and believe me 
 
 ‘ Your most obedient, 
 
 ‘ And most devoted humble servant, 
 
 ‘ James Ross. 
 
 The enclosed was from the Earl of Lemington, 
 and read as follows : — 
 
 At Sea. 
 
 ‘I dare not presume to call you again, ‘My 
 
 dearest Rosina.’ I am unworthy of you. Innocence, 
 confidence, and the warmest tenderness, ought not to be 
 linked with distrust, cruelty, and jealousy. But I have 
 
 Q 
 
258 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 been mad, most lovely of women. The universe never 
 produced any thing half so valuable as you. I knew that 
 others must envy my good fortune, and I therefore dread- 
 ed the efforts of every one that approached you. But I 
 should have known you better : I should have believed 
 you as pure as you are beautiful. Fool that I am ! What 
 atonement shall I offer ? If a life devoted to an exempli- 
 fication of the sincerity of ray repentance could be taken 
 as some reparation for the injury I have inflicted, this is 
 yours. But if you reject me— then must I bid farewell to 
 that happiness which I have fondly anticipated, but 
 which I have not deserved. If penitence— if grief can 
 plead with you — then pity your own dear Lemington. 
 The hope of being permitted to confess my follies at your 
 feet is the only feeling that tends to render life support- 
 able. The moment that duty permits, I shall rush to 
 hear my sentence from those sweet lips that never yet 
 uttered a cruel word. 
 
 ‘ Yours, eternally, 
 
 * Lemington. 
 
 * P. S. What a happiness that my Mentor, Boss, over- 
 took our vessel. He is a noble fellow. Be careful oi 
 your health. I have not been well, but now I feel better.' 
 
 I read this welcome epistle over and over again ; 
 I kissed it, and talked to the dear man that had 
 written it as if he were present. I arose from my 
 chair in joy and triumph. To find my lover not 
 only alive, but faithful and warm hearted — oh ! it 
 was too much. 
 
 Peggy asked me to take tea. I drank one cup 
 hastily ; but I could not eat. I therefore retired 
 into my bed-chamber with very different feelings 
 from those of the preceding evening. Soon Peggy 
 knocked. ‘ What do you want, Peggy ?’ said I. 
 ‘ Please, madam,’ she replied, ‘ here is the fine foot- 
 man, with his link-boy, to carry back a letter to 
 his master as he says.’— ‘Oh! aye. Dear me, I 
 had quite forgot that,’ said I : ‘ bid him wait a mi- 
 nute.’ I wrote a brief billet to my new admirer. 
 
 Having written a bold threatening note, I un- 
 dressed, but I cpuld not sleep for joy. My lover 
 — my parents — my friend Boss — my good aunt — all 
 stood before me in the most amiable colours. 
 
 Next day, at breakfast, I received a letter which 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 259 
 
 cast a damp upon my joy. The direction was 
 printed with a pen, and it contained two one hun- 
 dred pound Bank of England notes, with, ‘ From a 
 friend— use it freely — ask no questions,’ also in 
 printed letters. It could not be from Lemington ; 
 Boss was at a distance ; and no other person knew 
 my residence who was either able or willing to 
 make me such a present. I determined to lay 
 them by, and, if ever I discovered the donor, to re- 
 store them. 
 
 After dinner the clergyman called upon me. I 
 received him with great pleasure. He appeared 
 much gratified to hear that mv lover was still liv- 
 ing ; but, with great delicacy, changed the subject : 
 I showed him the letter I had received, enclosing 
 the two hundred pounds, and stated how I had de- 
 termined to act. He applauded my resolution, and 
 then asked if I had any idea of the person who had 
 sent it. I hinted my suspicion of Sir Henry Cleve- 
 land, of Kennington, who had been very trouble- 
 some, and had recently forced my servant to accept 
 of two guineas. 
 
 ‘ I do not think you need be under any fear of 
 suffering uneasiness from the generosity of Sir 
 Henry,’ said the clergyman. ‘ I know him well. 
 He affects to be a very Lovelace amongst the ladies, 
 yet he is all vanity. He had scarcely completed his 
 twenty-first year, when he contrived to run off 
 with a worthless woman, celebrated for her beauty, 
 and who abandoned a sensible husband and two 
 children merely to be talked of in the fashionable 
 world. Sir Henry was very properly sentenced to 
 pay heavy damages. Should he annoy you again, 
 send me a line ; for I possess a certain mode of re- 
 straining this man’s impertinence.’ I thanked the 
 clergyman for his friendly attentions. 
 
 One evening in the following week, I heard a 
 carriage drive up to the door. ‘ Some of Miss Jenkin- 
 son’s visitors,’ thought I, and again commenced 
 my music. But my landlady tapped at the door, 
 and opened it ; and a lady in deep mourning en- 
 
230 
 
 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 circled me in her arms. 4 My child — my Rosina !’ 
 she exclaimed. I knew the voice, and re-echoed, 
 in broken accents, 4 Ah ! my dear Lady Beckford — 
 my more than mother !’ while my head fell upon 
 her shoulder, and I wept. Lady Beckford looked 
 much older; but still retained that encouraging, 
 cheerful smile, that beautified her benevolent coun- 
 tenance. She had arrived in London only the day 
 preceding, and her first business was to inquire af- 
 ter my welfare. 4 You must come and live with 
 me, Rosina,’ said she.— 4 1 should be proud, ma- 
 dam,’ said I, 4 of enjoying your company, and your 
 protection ; but here I live concealed from the 
 world, in which I have experienced much annoy- 
 ance and ill-treatment.’ — ‘ But, my dear,’ replied 
 she, 4 you do not mean to say that consoling me in 
 my solitude would infringe upon your sense of in- 
 dependence?’ — ‘Oh! no, my dear lady, there is 
 nothing that I should not do to evince my love and 
 gratitude to my kind protectress.’— ‘ Very well, say 
 no more. Make your arrangements, and I will 
 come for you to-morrow.’ — ‘ If your ladyship would 
 permit me,’ said I, ‘ to bring my servant with me, 
 it would be a great addition to my happiness ; for 
 she is an honest and affectionate creature, to whom 
 
 I owe ’ ‘ How can you mention such a trivial 
 
 matter ?’ said Lady Beckford, interrupting me. 
 4 My house shall be yours. Do not compel me to 
 repeat this.’ 
 
 Having informed Peggy of our intended remo- 
 val, I settled with my worthy landlady, wrote to 
 Captain Ross, and sent a card of thanks to the 
 minister of South Lambeth, I felt next morning 
 impatient for the arrival of Lady Beckford. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A BOUT noon Lady Beckford drove up to our 
 door, and in a few minutes I was seated by her 
 side ; while my aunt was accommodated in the 
 family chaise. Just as I was shaking hands with 
 my landlady, I perceived Sir Henry Cleveland 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 231 
 
 standing at Miss Jenkinson’s window. I was sorry 
 for this, as I wished not to be discovered. 
 
 About a week after I was again settled at Lady 
 Beckford’s, her ladyship’s youngest sister, with one 
 man and two women servants, arrived from Lanca- 
 shire. Mrs. Page was a very handsome woman, 
 and her fine nose and dark eyes gave to her coun- 
 tenance a very animated expression. Every per- 
 son that saw her was loud in expressions of admi- 
 ration ; and as her parents doated upon her, all 
 their guests vied with each other in panegyrizing 
 her elegance and beauty. Being thus filled with 
 conceit, she soon began to flirt with gentlemen; 
 and in her seventeenth year, she ran off from Lin- 
 coln with a cornet of dragoons. Her father pur- 
 sued, and the fugitives were overtaken at New- 
 castle upon Tyne, on their road to Scotland. She 
 was brought direct to London, and placed under 
 the care of her sister, Lady Beckford ; but her con- 
 duct was so light and intriguing, that Sir William 
 Beckford grew alarmed for the safety of his charge, 
 and sent her home again. One summer, while at 
 Scarborough, an old gentleman, sixty-five years of 
 age, would venture upon matrimony, and fixed 
 upon this young, gay lady, as the properest person 
 to make him happy. Allured by his riches, she ac- 
 cepted his hand, and, after a courtship of three 
 days, became Mrs. Page. For a season they ap- 
 peared happy, and launched into the most ridicu- 
 lous extravagances ; but when old Page began to 
 reflect, he paused, reasoned, remonstrated, and 
 threatened, but all in vain. His feeble efforts 
 were sometimes met by mirth and laughter, and at 
 other times by haughtiness. During ten years, he 
 lived to repent his folly, and to witness the pro- 
 gressive diminution of his riches. After his death 
 she redoubled her profuse expenditure, and soon 
 reduced her large jointure to an annuity of four 
 hundred pounds per annum. On this small sum 
 she had lived during two years at Lancaster ; but 
 her creditors being clamorous, she posted up to 
 
282 rosina; or, 
 
 London as soon as she heard of Lady Beckford’s 
 return. Her ladyship received her with . sisterly 
 affection, and invited her to reside in her house ; 
 hut insisted upon her observing all those rules of 
 good order by which her family had always been 
 regulated. 
 
 I was present at the first interview, and was 
 struck with the polite, good-natured ease, with 
 which Mrs. Page listened to her sister’s admoni- 
 tions. She appeared to be about thirty-five years 
 of age ; and her innocent, cheerful aspect, led me 
 at first to suspect that Lady Beckford had gener- 
 ally spoken of her with unmerited severity. But I 
 was soon undeceived; for, immediately on her 
 ladyship’s retiring, she began to quiz her with the 
 most inimitable humour. I was too much surprised 
 and disgusted to join in her mirth. 
 
 I now resumed the study of geography, botany, 
 and popular astronomy, under the able direction of 
 Lady Beckford, from whom I had derived most of 
 the solid knowledge that I possessed. I had put 
 her in possession of all I knew respecting the Earl 
 of Lemington, and she encouraged me to hope for 
 the happiest results. When complaining of the 
 recent neglect I had experienced from Mr. Forbes, 
 she excused him by saying that he had gone sud- 
 denly from town to Brussels, to await the expected 
 liberation of his wife, and that his mother had ac- 
 companied him. 
 
 One day, while reading to Lady Beckford and 
 Mrs. Page, a servant delivered me a note. The 
 neat manner in which it was folded and directed, 
 and its large fine seal, led me to suspect that it was 
 from Sir Henry Cleveland. I therefore returned it 
 to the servant, saying, ‘ John, please to inform the 
 bearer that I decline all correspondence.’ The 
 footman retired, while Mrs. Page exclaimed, ‘Lord ! 
 Boyd, what a strange creature you must be, to re- 
 turn such a handsome looking note without open- 
 ing it. Why, perhaps it contains the fervent pro- 
 testations of some lover.’ — ‘ For that reason I 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 263 
 
 wished not to peruse it,’ observed I. — ‘ Why, this 
 is passing strange. I am full of curiosity to know 
 the contents. May a servant run, my dear, and 
 bring back the note ?’ — ‘ By no means,’ said Lady 
 Beckford : ‘ our friend has refused to receive it on 
 good grounds, I doubt not ; and she ought not to be 
 persecuted with your flights of levity.’ — ‘ Certainly 
 not,’ replied Mrs. Page : ‘ but as she is a very saint, 
 she can be in no danger from my levity. Perhaps 
 Mrs. Boyd has had a revelation of the contents of 
 this letter in a dream, or a vision.’ — ‘ Now I must 
 again tell you, Mrs. Page,’ said Lady Beckford se- 
 riously, 4 that I cannot endure such light, profane 
 jests ; nor will I permit my young friend to be 
 tensed with your nonsense.’ 
 
 Next day the footman entered, and asked if I 
 would please to look upon a fine collection of rich 
 jewellery, 4 T would rather not,’ said I, resuming 
 my work. — 4 But, madam, they are so neat and 
 fashionable.’ At this moment, a Jew met my eye, 
 standing before the door. When he perceived that 
 I saw him, he pulled off his hat, and advanced 
 within the room. I thought this an odd intrusion. 
 
 4 Yil de laydee look at my nice tings ?’ said the 
 Jew. — 4 My good man, I do not want any thing,* 
 said I. — 4 Vary nice— vary pretty — and vary chape,’ 
 continued he, opening his box. ‘ De laydees and 
 de gentlemans vonder at ma pretty show. Dere is 
 de goods for you,’ exhibiting his well-arranged as- 
 sortment of j e wellery. 4 They certainly look pretty,’ 
 observed I; ‘ but I see nothing I wish to have.’ — 
 4 How can von pretty laydee say so ?’ with a keen 
 look ; 4 dere is the necklash — pless my heart— only 
 try dis. De shentleman vill be surprished at your 
 peauties.’ 
 
 4 No, no,’ said I, pushing his hand aside, 4 1 do 
 not wish to surprise gentlemen. 4 Pray, what do 
 you ask for that small box ?’ pointing at a neat 
 fancy article containing scissors, penknife, a thim- 
 ble, bodkin, &c. 4 Oh !’ said the Jew, 4 me no sell 
 
 that nashty ting to ma pretty laydee. Dis nice 
 
264 
 
 ROSINA ; OP, 
 
 necklash vill increash your peauties shent per 
 shent.’ 
 
 On his entrance, it struck me as a curiosity to see 
 a Jew with blue eyes ; and I now observed him 
 with a scrutinizing look, when I discovered a small 
 black ribbon under his ear, by which I supposed he 
 had tied on his beard. I saw that he was an im- 
 postor ; so I rung the bell. The butler, who was 
 passing, entered. ‘ William,’ said I, 4 show the 
 gentleman Jew down stairs.’ 
 
 Mrs. Page came tripping into the room, and, 
 with a loud laugh, said, 4 Oh ! you cruel wretch, 
 how could you dismiss the dear Israelite so uncere- 
 moniously? I met the poor Jew dog descending 
 the stairs, and hanging his head as if he had stolen 
 some of our silver spoons ; so I took compassion 
 upon him, and like a good Samaritan, poured wine 
 and oil into his wounded spirit. Oh ! he must be 
 a learned Eabbi, for he talked Hebrew to me ; and 
 I, to show my confidence in him, took some of his 
 prettiest trinkets upon credit.’ 
 
 Lady Beckford entered at this time, and the con- 
 versation dropped. In the course of the evening, 
 Mrs. Page said, 4 There is to be a sale of exquisite 
 paintings to-morrow. All the world will be there. 
 Mrs. Boyd is, I understand, an ardent admirer of 
 the fine arts ; but I will not venture to ask her to 
 view the collection, unless your ladyship will con- 
 descend to accompany us.’ — 4 1 have ceased pur- 
 chasing such articles,’ replied Lady Beckford ; ‘ but 
 as the sight may be gratifying to you both, I have 
 no objection to spend half an hour in the auction- 
 room.’ 
 
 Next day we arrived at the sale-room, and 
 amused ourselves very agreeably in examining the 
 pictures. As the heat became excessive, and mov- 
 ing extremely difficult, I proposed that we should 
 retire. Lady Beckford agreed, and we turned to- 
 wards the door, when who should I see standing 
 before us but the Earl of Glenford. I pretended 
 not to see him : but he addressed Lady Beckford 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 265 
 
 with uncommon politeness, that I doubted whether 
 he had recognized me. After many compliments, 
 he invited himself to dine with her ladyship, in a 
 manner so polite, that a refusal was absolutely im- 
 possible, particularly as his lordship had always 
 been a distinguished guest at her table in her hus- 
 band’s lifetime, with whom Glenford did all his 
 banking business. When our carriage appeared, 
 the Earl of Glenford handed in Lady Beckford, 
 and then otfered his hand to me. Still he affected 
 not to know me ; but I could easily see the satis- 
 faction that sparkled in his eyes. 
 
 Lady Beckford asked who that strange gentle- 
 man was. 4 Indeed, sister,’ replied Mrs. Page, 4 1 
 do not think him strange in any way ; for he is a 
 most accomplished gentleman. He has an infinite 
 fund of wit, and keeps the best company,’ Lady 
 Beckford replied, 4 You have been very inconsider- 
 ate. I do not wish to open my table to gentlemen, 
 particularly to strangers. If I have surrendered 
 my will to-day, it was under the influence of force ;* 
 and she looked at me significantly. — 4 Tut !’ answer- 
 ed Mrs. Page, 4 you would not have us to be im- 
 mured as if in a convent. I hate your stiff, formal 
 prudes. One can derive neither instruction nor 
 enjoyment from their company.’ — 4 Did you,’ said 
 her sister, 4 wish to select companions for their 
 talents and agreeable manners, I should have no 
 objections to assist you in your choice.’ 
 
 I obeyed the call to dinner with confusion of 
 spirits not to be described. The presence and good 
 sense of Lady Beckford alone gave me confidence ; 
 yet I entered the dining-room with faultering steps. 
 I was seated opposite to Sir Henry Cleveland ; and 
 on looking into his face, I recognized the very eyes 
 that had struck me as being so singular in a Jew, 
 The plot was now easily discovered, and our meet- 
 ing at the auction-room was plainly a scheme pre- 
 concerted between the knight and Mrs. Page. Lord 
 Glenford sat on Lady Beckford’ s right hand, and 
 behaved with strict propriety ; yet I dreaded that 
 
266 rosina ; or, 
 
 he was devising some deep plan for promoting an 
 object which it was not probable he had abandoned. 
 
 Shortly after dinner, the gentlemen took their 
 leave, when Mrs. Page said, addressing me, ‘ Well, 
 my dear, you have quite bored me with your noise. 
 However, you must have amused the gentlemen 
 vastly.’ — ‘ I behaved,’ replied I, ‘ as I thought was 
 most becoming ; but I do not suppose that my si- 
 lence would be noticed amidst your loquacity.’ — 
 1 They are two old friends,’ said Mrs. Page ; ‘ but 
 what do you think of Sir Henry Cleveland ?’ — ‘ I 
 do not think him worthy a thought,’ replied I. — 
 ‘ Aye,’ added I, ‘ and the most moral and generous.* 
 — ‘ Poh ! poh ! ’ exclaimed she, ‘ you want a Phoenix, 
 I suppose ; but if ever you are inclined to accept of 
 a mere mortal for a husband, you must learn to be 
 less precise.’ — ‘ If I never can obtain a partner 
 who approaches to the standard in my scale of ex- 
 cellence,’ said I, ‘ then will I be content to remain 
 in a state of single blessedness.’ The entrance of 
 two ladies, who were to take tea with us, inter- 
 rupted the conversation. 
 
 Next morning Lady Beckford and Mrs. Page 
 went a shopping ; but I declined going. In about 
 half an hour, a servant informed me that a gentle- 
 man desired to see me on business of importance. 
 I ordered him to be introduced, and, to my great 
 surprise, in walked Mr. Frazer. Vexed and alarm- 
 ed, I stared at him in silence. He walked up to 
 me, and, bowing in scorn, said, ‘ I trust, madam, 
 that you are in a more reasonable humour than 
 when I last saw you.’ — ‘ Sir,’ I replied, ‘if you have 
 returned to insult me, the sooner you walk off the 
 better.’ — ‘ Insult you, forsooth ! and the proposal 
 of a gentleman of good family and unequalled tal- 
 ents, to lay his fortune at your feet is an insult ! 
 Why, Hose, what would you have me to do ?’ — ‘ To 
 quit the house instantly,’ I replied. — ‘Aye,’ said he, 
 
 ‘ you speak with authority — you, who are living on 
 
 the bounty of ’ At this I darted towards the 
 
 bell-pull ; but Frazer interrupted me. ‘ Hold, miss, 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2G7 
 
 or mistress, or what confounded title is it you have 
 taken ?’ cried he ; ‘ don’t carry it with so high a 
 hand, imagining Lord Glenford does not see through 
 your artifices. You are mistaken, my child,’ he 
 said with a sneer, ‘ you will never catch him ; and 
 his command now is, that you never again presume 
 to enter his presence. I will watch over you, and 
 convince you that you must be mine. If you dare 
 to blab, in an instant I will crush you and, grind- 
 ing his teeth in seeming rage, he left the room. 
 Filled with indignation at the machinations of my 
 enemies, I wrote to inform my friend Ross of their 
 cruel maliguity, and the impertinence of Mr. Fra- 
 zer. 
 
 J ust as I was finishing this letter, the Earl of 
 Glenford entered the room. I coloured deeply, and 
 taking up my writing, prepared to retire. ‘ Do 
 you fly from me, my lovely friend ?’ said he. ‘ Have 
 I then innocently forfeited your esteem ?’ ‘ My 
 
 lord,’ replied I, ‘ 1 know that neither by birth nor 
 fortune am I entitled to your notice. I thank you 
 for your kindness and politeness on a former occa- 
 sion. I then flattered myself I possessed your 
 esteem. I may now have lost it, though un- 
 justly ; and nothing shall ever induce me to justify 
 myself against loose, vague suspicions, i wish 
 your lordship a good morning,’ I added curtseying. 
 
 ‘ By Jove,’ the earl exclaimed, ‘ you quit me not 
 thus. I will have an explanation. You torture 
 me. I know not what to think. Pray, my sweet 
 girl, do explain,’ — ‘ There is my explanation,’ said 
 I, giving him my letter to Captain Ross. — ‘ But 
 this is a private letter,’ remarked he, hesitatingly. 
 — k I care not,’ I replied, ‘ if all the world saw my 
 letters. That was certainly written for the use of 
 one friend ; but it may serve two equally well.’ 
 
 His lordship read it over very deliberately. 
 ‘ There,’ Rosina, is your letter,’ said he : ‘ it has 
 rather astonished me. But in all such cases, can- 
 dour is best. I must confess that I respected you 
 highly ; but your sudden departure from Mrs. My- 
 
268 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 rick's house displeased me much. Every inquiry 
 relative to your place of retreat proved fruitless ; 
 but at last I heard that you lived in private lodg- 
 ings, under the protection of a gentleman of very 
 doubtful principles, and whose shattered fortunes 
 you had undertaken to restore by marriage with 
 my nephew, who perfectly adores you. All this 
 was related to me very circumstantially, and nothing 
 but a fit of the gout prevented me from sifting the 
 affair to the bottom.’ 
 
 4 I am more surprised than provoked,’ said I, look- 
 ing steadfastly on him, ‘ at such base and ground- 
 less insinuations. Were I guilty of such unprin- 
 cipled conduct, my answer should be very succinct ; 
 for I would tell your lordship that I was not ac- 
 countable to you for my conduct, and that I had 
 friends who could protect me. But having so far 
 in life preserved a blameless path, and you having 
 frankly informed me of crimes laid to my charge, I 
 will not treat the information with silent contempt. 
 
 4 In the first place, you have been correctly in- 
 formed as far as relates to your nephew, the Earl 
 of Lemington : I value myself too highly upon 
 truth and sincerity to deny it. Yes, my lord, the 
 earl is dear, and ever will be so, to me. This is my 
 crime, and the source of my misfortunes. Without 
 that passion which he inspired, my days had glided 
 on in silent, but peaceful obscurity. Did you know 
 my history, it would rather excite your pity than 
 your anger.’ 
 
 4 Never mind,’ said his lordship, presenting his 
 hand, 4 let us be reconciled. You are fully restored 
 to my esteem.’ — 4 No, my lord,’ said I, resolutely, 
 4 your reconciliation is as fickle as your prejudice. 
 My resolution is unalterable, except on one condi- 
 tion. — 4 What is it ?’ inquired the earl. 4 It is, re- 
 plied I, 4 to confront me with the authors of those 
 calumnies with which I am aspersed, and to com- 
 pel them to name my secret and cowardly enemies.’ 
 
 The earl acknowledged that the demand was 
 reasonable ; and if he himself had refrained from 
 
TI1E VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 239 
 
 proposing it, respect for my feelings was the cause. 
 A servant was despatched for Mr. Frazer ; and, in 
 the meantime, the earl conducted himself in the 
 handsomest manner. 
 
 Mr. Frazer came, with rage and disappointment 
 in his countenance. His lordship began, as soon as 
 he had entered, to express his indignation at the 
 vile stories of'wliich he had been the vehicle. Fra- 
 zer advanced, and whispered something into his 
 lordship’s ear, to excuse himself by some plausible 
 pretext. ‘ No,’ cried his lordship, ‘ I can listen to 
 nothing but what is open, bold, and honest. Tell 
 me on what authority you presumed to traduce 
 this lady’s character.’ — ‘ I hope, 1 replied Frazer, 
 * your lordship will excuse me. I do not wish to 
 involve people in trouble for what they communi- 
 cated to me in confidence.’ — ‘ That evasion won’t 
 do,’ exclaimed his lordship: ‘explain fully, or ex- 
 pect the full weight of my displeasure.’ 
 
 ‘ Well,’ said Frazer, ‘ I will make the disclosure. 
 Zeal in your lordship’s service led me to inquire 
 into the character and habits of this lady ; so, after 
 discovering her private retreat near Stockwell, I 
 hovered around it for some time. At night, I saw 
 a decent-looking lady come out of the house, whom 
 I accosted, and asked if she knew one Mrs. Boyd. 
 She shrugged up her shoulders mysteriously, say- 
 ing she was not very intimate with the lady. I 
 prevailed upon her to return to her apartment, 
 where I extracted from Mrs. Boyd’s fellow-lodger 
 the particulars, which I communicated ; and I 
 found her amour with Sir Henry Cleveland a mat- 
 ter of general notority.’ 
 
 ‘ But sirrah,’ cried his lordship, in a rage, ‘ this 
 is not to the point. Why did you misrepresent me, 
 to forward your licentious views? Why did you 
 this day deliver a false message in my name ?’ Fra- 
 zer now looked abashed, and confused ; while his 
 lordship exclaimed, ‘ Mr. Frazer, you are unwor- 
 thy of my confidence. After such a proof of your 
 deceit, insolence , .:id malice, presume not ever to 
 
270 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 approach my presence again. Begone !’ His lord- 
 ship added, 4 1 have long suspected Frazer to he 
 an unprincipled hypocrite. I may he imposed on 
 once, but never a second time.’ I now saw that 
 an acquaintance with Miss Jenkinson was preg- 
 nant with the most mis-chievous effects : and I could 
 easily see through the policy of propagating a re- 
 port that Sir Henry Cleveland and I were connect- 
 ed, as the surest way of facilitating such an event. 
 But as my letter, which the earl had perused, con- 
 tained the scene with the Jew, and my conviction 
 that it was Sir Henry in disguise, I stood complete- 
 ly exonerated from this charge. 
 
 ‘Now,’ said the Earl of Glenford, ‘I hope you 
 will re-admit me among your friends. But, if re- 
 quired, I will make an atonement for harbouring 
 any surmise to your disadvantage.’ — 4 My lord, it 
 is proper that you should know the person well 
 whom you propose to honour with your friendship. 
 You should not be kept in ignorance that she is 
 merely a poor woodman’s daughter.’ — 4 1 knew 
 and admired you before I was acquainted with this 
 
 circumstance, and ’ But at this instant, Lady 
 
 Beckford and Mrs. Page entered ; and I was glad 
 of the accident. 
 
 In the evening, when Lady Beckford and I were 
 sitting together : 4 1 think, my dear,’ said she, 4 that 
 you have completely rivetted his lordship’s atten- 
 tion to-day. But there is no danger; for while 
 you continue to respect yourself, you will be re- 
 spected.’ — 4 1 know that,’ replied I ; and if ever I 
 forget myself, may my best of friends forget me.’ 
 
 'Next day Mrs. Page abruptly entered my room. 
 ‘ My dearest friend,’ exclaimed she, 4 save me, or I 
 am ruined.’ — ‘What has happened?’ said I ; 4 do 
 not keep me in suspense. Let me know the w r orst.’ 
 — 4 Well then,’ said she, 4 promise that you will not 
 lecture me, nor put on a grave, Methodist-like face, 
 and I wdll tell you.’ 
 
 ‘Well, but you forget that you were ruined,* 
 said I. — 4 Oh dear ! yes, and so I am, if you do not 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 271 
 
 assist me. You must know, I took a hand last 
 night at Madame Delamore’s, and I lost a hundred 
 pounds.’ — ‘One hundred pounds!’ exclaimed I, 
 ‘ why, how do you mean to pay it ‘ Aye, there’s 
 the rub. Once, my dear, a thousand never dis- 
 turbed me. Oh heavens ! what shall I do ? Hark ! 
 they are below stairs, constable and all. Eeally, 
 my dear, I depend upon you.’ 
 
 I earnestly begged she would explain herself. ‘ I 
 sent my maid Nancy to pawn my necklace; the 
 same one I got from that queer looking Jew, and 
 my stupid maid went to a wrong shop. I had told 
 her that if any questions were asked, to say it was 
 her own. I forgot that Nancy had no business 
 with a necklace of such value. I should have told 
 the girl, but — ’ 
 
 ‘Well, instead of going to the right shop, she 
 went to the first pawnbrokers she came to ; so the 
 fellow questioned the girl, stopped the necklace, 
 and sent her to prison, where she now is.’ ‘ How 
 do you know all this ?’ — ‘ Why,’ she replied, ‘ the 
 girl sent me this letter by a porter. She has kept 
 my secret. Now, you must manage this affair for 
 me, or I am ruined with my sister. She will turn 
 me out of doors. She looks very kind, and very 
 mild; but only offend her, and she will figure 
 away so as to terrify me into hysterics.’ 
 
 ‘ I am sorry for you, Mrs. Page,’ said I ; ‘ and 
 were I able, I would pay this debt for you, expect- 
 ing you would never again be so imprudent. But 
 I can lend you a hundred pounds. The money is 
 not mine, and therefore I must expect payment as 
 soon as convenient.’ I handed her one of the bank 
 notes which I had received anonymously. She 
 took it up in an ecstasy of delight, and called me 
 her charming friend, and promised to repay it in a 
 few weeks. Then she said, ‘ But what of Nancy, 
 my dear ? How shall we save her ? Leave that to 
 me,’ said I. 
 
 My poor aunt Peggy met with a serious aecident, 
 which had prevented her entering the house of 
 
272 ROSINAJOR, 
 
 Lady Beckford. When approaching our residence, 
 the old housekeeper, who always fancied herself to 
 be ill, ordered the chaise-driver to stop at her sur- 
 geon’s where she had to call for medicine. Peggy 
 thought she would purchase some drugs also, to 
 prevent herself from being unwell : but, in step- 
 ping out of the chaise, her foot was wrenched in a 
 hole in the pavement, by which means her leg was 
 broken. I was sent for, and found her laid upon a 
 bed, and the surgeon bandaging up her leg. As 
 removal was dangerous, I agreed with the surgeon 
 that she should remain in the house until cured. I 
 called to see her daily. 
 
 I went direct to the police-office to which Nancy 
 bad been brought, but an officer asked with great 
 civility if I had any justice business. ‘ I wish,’ 
 said I, slipping half-a-crown into his hand, ‘ to 
 speak a single word in private with his worship.’ 
 The officer smiled and nodded, and disappeared. In 
 a minute he returned, and led me into a private 
 room, saying his worship would attend directly. In 
 a few minutes, the justice entered. I trembled in 
 every joint. ‘ Do not be alarmed,’ said his wor- 
 ship ; ‘ compose yourself, and relate your business 
 fearlessly.’ 
 
 I then told him the whole affair, without evasion. 
 I was surprised at the knowledge which the magis- 
 trate had of all the parties concerned. ‘ I hope, my 
 good lady, ’ said he, ‘ that a hundred pounds is no 
 serious object to you ? for I fear you will never re- 
 cover this loan. ‘ But I am perfectly satisfied with 
 your candid and honourable explanation. I will 
 order the girl to be discharged immediately.’ J ust 
 after dinner Nancy entered the dining-room ; when 
 Mrs. Page gave me such a look of thankfulness, as 
 fully recompensed me for all my trouble, and the 
 grateful Nancy never forgot my kindness.’ 
 
 Next day we had an excursion to Kensington 
 gardens. Lady Beckford, with some reluctance, 
 complied. After walking about for some time, we 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 273 
 
 retired to a covered seat to rest. Here we had not 
 remained long, when an apparition stood before us, 
 at which I started with alarm, and uttered an in- 
 voluntary scream. It was the blind naval lieuten- 
 ant, with his rough, boisterous attendant. 
 
 ‘ Hilloah !’ roared the lieutenant, 4 then we have 
 drove them into close quarters, Tom. Hang me ! 
 an’t you a pretty hussy,’ continued he, 4 to keep me 
 cruising about in this way P Mayhap you may 
 laugh at the creeks and the corners we have ex- 
 amined, without chart or compass ; but if you es- 
 cape again, my name is not Jack Boyd.’— 4 Odsnig- 
 gers ! your honour,’ cried Tom, 4 though they had 
 their studding-sails set, we are now alongside of 
 the enemy, yard-arm and yard-arm.’ 
 
 Lady Beckford looked surprised, and Mrs. Page 
 tittered ; when I stood up and said, 4 My good fel- 
 low, why do you annoy me P Did not the Earl of 
 Glenford give you ample satisfaction ?’ — ‘ He !’ ex- 
 claimed the lieutenant, 4 he give me satisfaction ! 
 Blood and thunder ! What’s he? A fellow who 
 never smelt gunpowder — a lubber that can’t splice 
 a rope — and he made a Lord of the Admiralty! 
 There didn’t he keep me in the office five glasses 
 every blessed day, to be hustled by a set of porpus- 
 faced rapscallions ; and, after all his jaw, Jack 
 Boyd is still only second lieutenant. Hang it, I 
 never thought Nancy would slip her cable, and 
 sheer off to lie alongside of that old swab.' 
 
 4 What means all this ?’ exclaimed Lady Beck- 
 ford, 4 Are the men maniacs ?’ — 4 None of your 
 mani-aches ,’ cried the blind officer ; 4 though I am 
 not covered with lace and thingumbobs, I’ll strike 
 to no man whatsomever. By the Lord, Tom, he 
 continued, 4 were a man to call me such names, I d 
 grapple him. But no palaver. Nancy, I’ll now 
 take you in tow, and bring you to a good birth, my 
 hearty. 1 And one of the keepers of the gardens 
 requested the lieutenant to 4 move on.’ He stamp- 
 ed his foot, and poured forth a volley of oaths, 
 while Tom stood ready to obey the signal for au 
 
 R 
 
274 rosina ; or, 
 
 attack. ‘ Why do you terrify the ladies ?’ said an 
 elderly gentleman. 
 
 ‘ Oh ! dear captain, save me, 5 1 exclaimed, seeing 
 my friend Ross coming up the walk. At the sound 
 of my voice he darted forward, crying out, ‘ Who 
 dares insult this lady ?' — ‘ Odsblood !’ said Boyd, 
 ‘ and who cares a rope-yarn for your captain ? 
 Here’s Jack Boyd, a seaman, who never flinched 
 from his quarters. That’s my squaw, and I’ll 
 maintain it ; so, d’ye see, I have a right to moor 
 alongside of her.’ — ‘ Softly,’ said Captain Ross, ‘I 
 too have faced the enemy, both on sea and land. 
 Aye, and I knew a brave tar, called Jack Boyd, of 
 the Growler, who was always ready to lend a hand 
 in defence of the ladies.’ — ‘Did you?’ exclaimed 
 he : ‘ well, now you have come across my quarters, 
 and raked me fore and aft. But my lights are out, 
 d’ye see ; and I cannot spy your jack and ensign." 
 — ‘ When you and lieutenant Ross, with a handful 
 of brave fellows, stormed the outworks of Louis- 
 bourg, you could see the enemy if he stirred by day 
 or by night.’ — ‘ Ah ! Ross, my dear fellow, give me 
 your hand. You are as brave a man as ever fought 
 under the English colours ; and you know some- 
 body, not behind you : but I am not my own trum- 
 peter.’ — ‘But, Boyd, what is the meaning of this 
 hubbub?’ — ‘Oh! only this. We weighed anchor 
 this morning, and drove right before the wind, 
 without compass or reckoning : but the wind shift- 
 ed ; so we tacked together the Royal George, when 
 Tom sung out that Nancy had hove in sight. Then 
 we gave chase, and run her ashore.’ — ‘ Why, w’hat 
 a fool you are, Boyd, to suppose that this young 
 lady is your wife. Why, who does not know Nancy, 
 the bar-maid of the Green Dragon in Plymouth 
 Dock, whom you first saw on Christmas Eve, and 
 married her the next morning ? And who has for- 
 gotten how Bet Manly, the mantua-maker, gave 
 
 you a black eye in the church porch ? And ’ 
 
 whisht, shipmate,’ interrupted the lieutenant, ‘ tell 
 no more tales out of school. But if this be not my 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 275 
 
 wife, where is she?’ — ‘ Now, my friend,’ said Ross, ‘if 
 you meet me to-morrow morning, at ten o’clock, in 
 Gracecliurch Street, I will take you down in the 
 stage to your wife’s door in Depford.’ — ‘ Let’s have 
 your hand, my hearty. But is not Nancy spliced 
 to some land-lubber ?’ inquired the rough seaman, 
 in a half indignant tone. — ‘ Yes, she was married,’ 
 said Captain Ross ; ‘ but her husband is dead.’ 
 
 ‘Well, Boyd, if you expect my friendly assist- 
 ance, you must apologize to these ladies for your 
 rudeness. I insist upon this.’ — ‘ Why look ye ?’ 
 said the lieutenant, ‘ I’ve not hurt the ladies, only 
 just chased them into smooth water ; and it was 
 this here lady that decoyed me, by showing false 
 colours ; for what has she taken my name for ?’ — 
 ‘ But,’ said Captain Ross, ‘ your master has no claim 
 upon this lady.’ — ‘Well, well,’ said Boyd, ‘I am 
 sorry for frightening the ladies ; but if a few yel- 
 low boys ’ ‘ No, no,’ said Ross, stopping the 
 
 poor fellow, who evidently intended to offer a pe- 
 cuniary atonement, ‘ say nothing more. Good day, 
 my friend. Remember, to-morrow at ten o’clock.’ 
 We now proceeded towards the gate, where our 
 carriage was waiting ; when Sir Henry Cleveland 
 stopped before us, and bowed. I instantly took 
 Captain Ross’ arm, and walked past without no- 
 ticing him. No doubt Mrs. Page had planned 
 this walk in the gardens, for the purpose of intro- 
 ducing her friend ; but her design miscarried, for 
 Lady Beckford’s coldness induced him to take his 
 leave at the gate. 
 
 ‘ What is the meaning of the singular scene I 
 have just witnessed?’ inquired Lady Beckford. 
 This induced me to relate all the particulars of the 
 blind man’s former visit, at which her ladyship was 
 much amused. I expressed my surprise at Captain 
 Ross’ unexpected appearance, and also at his inti- 
 mate knowledge of my would-be husband. Here- 
 plied that he had arrived in town only the preceding 
 evening ; and that, on calling to pay his respects 
 to me, he was informed that I had gone to Ken- 
 
276 eosina;or, 
 
 sington Gardens, on which he took coach, and had 
 fortunately discovered us at a very critical time ; 
 for,’ added he, ‘ poor Boyd is as boisterous and un- 
 ruly as the elements with which he has been long 
 contending. He married, as I before hinted, in a 
 kind of frolic. His wife was a very handsome girl ; 
 but going to Newry in Ireland, where her sister 
 lived, either Bovd knew not of her removal, or he 
 neglected to write. Mrs. Boyd now keeps a public 
 house at Deptford, a situation for which she is pecu- 
 liarly well adapted ; and I doubt not but that she 
 will render both her long-lost lover, and his man 
 Friday, very comfortable.’ 
 
 My kind friend contrived, in the course of the 
 evening, to inform me that intelligence of the safe 
 arrival of the Earl of Lemington had been received 
 at the office of the secretary of state. This news 
 raised my spirits. I forgot the fright I had re- 
 ceived at the gardens ; and even Lady Beckford 
 observed the buoyancy of spirits, which she mis- 
 takenly attributed to the presence of Captain 
 Boss. 
 
 When we returned from the opera, Captain Boss 
 described with inimitable humour the scene of the 
 meeting and reconciliation of Mr. Boyd and his 
 spouse. Every thing had been satisfactorily set- 
 tled ; and he left Tom roaring out a sea-song over 
 a bowl of punch. ‘ It is a pity,’ remarked I, ‘ that 
 Mrs. Boyd was deceived into a belief of her hus- 
 band’s death.’ — ‘ Yes,’ said Ross, ‘ but neither Boyd 
 nor his Nancy cares a straw about the matter. 
 They are merely grown children, who eagerly en- 
 joy the present moment, without thinking of the 
 past, or caring for the future. ’ 
 
 Next day, my worthy friend, the clergyman of 
 South Lambeth, called upon me ; Lady Beckford 
 and he saluted each other like old acquaintances, 
 and her ladyship insisted that he should stay to 
 dinner, and he acquiesced with the proposal. At 
 dinner, our clerical friend acquitted himself with 
 lunch pleasantry ; and he acquired the good opinion 
 
THE VIllTTJOITS COUNTRY MATH. 277 
 
 of Mrs. Page. After dinner, he amused us with a 
 variety of interesting anecdotes. 
 
 Lady Beckford having gone early into the coun- 
 try next morning, Mrs. Page and I breakfasted to- 
 gether. 4 Some people,’ said she, 4 make a wonder- 
 ful fuss about their good deeds. They are always 
 blowing the trumpet before them. I hate such 
 hypocrites, and never can bear to talk of my good 
 works. But, just now, I cannot resist the tempta- 
 tion of permitting you to partake in the pleasure of 
 making a poor family happy. Last Tuesday, a 
 labourer who lived near the Seven Dials, fell off a 
 ladder, and was killed on the spot. When his 
 corpse was carried home, his wife was taken very 
 ill, and soon after delivered of twins, which, with 
 eight small children she had before, made up a 
 family of ten orphans. The poor woman would 
 have died, if I and a friend of mine had not assist- 
 ed her. She, poor woman, is extremely ill, but I 
 hope will not die, though the chance of her reco- 
 very is small indeed. I am going to steal out to 
 visit her, and you shall accompany me.’ — 4 With all 
 my heart, my dear Mrs. Page,’ said I. 4 You have 
 a good heart, I find ; and, if your company and 
 amusements had been better selected, would have 
 appeared an attractive and amiable character to 
 every one whose good opinion is really valuable.’— 
 * Tut ! tut !’ replied she, peevishly, 4 you are always 
 vexing me with your sermonizing stuff. You sup- 
 pose, I fancy, that you monopolize all the female 
 virtue in town.’— 4 Well, now,’ said I, in a soothing 
 tone, ‘do not be offended. Your charity in this 
 affair is more than sufficient to cover a multitude 
 of little errors.’ 
 
 We were presently on our road to the house of 
 mourning. Mrs. Page held a ticket, with the num- 
 ber of the house upon it. After much inquiry, the 
 door was pointed out to us. When we entered, a 
 scene of great wretchedness was presented to our 
 eyes. The little, starved, squalid -looking children 
 were all huddled together around the mother, 
 
273 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 lay on a bed of straw, with a single blanket upon 
 it. Mrs. Page entered with a confident air, saying, 
 ‘Your name is Thompson, I think ?’ — ‘ Yes,’ replied 
 the poor woman, ‘ I have, during twelve years, been 
 known by that dear name.’—*- 4 You are very ill, are 
 you not ?’ The sick widow shook her head. ‘ Aye, 
 lady,’ said a poor, clean -looking woman, who was 
 dressing one of the infants, 1 she has good cause to 
 be ill.’ — ‘ But has not Sir Henry Cleveland gener- 
 ously relieved you?’— ‘There have been no sirs, or 
 great folks here,’ said the neighbour woman, ‘ except 
 a saucy footman, who came last night, holding his 
 nose, and asking some impertinent questions.’— ‘ It 
 is all a mistake,’ said Mrs. Page, carelessly; ‘ but I 
 will put matters to rights.’ 
 
 She was going out ; but I remained, stooped 
 down to the poor creature, saying in a whisper, 
 ‘ Trust in God, while a tear dropt on her feverish 
 cheek, ‘I will see you again, and slipped two 
 guineas into her hand. The woman looked at me ; 
 but her heart was too full to speak. I patted the 
 cheek of the infant that lay in her arms, and then 
 turned to follow Mrs. Page. The kind neighbour, 
 who was acting as nurse, had observed what was 
 passing, and, rising up, made me a low curtsey, ex- 
 claiming, ‘ God bless your pretty face— you are a 
 real lady.* 
 
 Mrs. Page overheard this expression, and said to 
 me, ‘ Oh ! you are quite a favourite, I find. You 
 saints have a kind of masonic sign, I guess, by 
 which you know each other at first sight.’—- 4 Really, 
 Mrs. Page,’ observed I, without noticing the sar- 
 casm, ‘ you have surprised me. I thought you had 
 relieved this distressed family ; and you seem to 
 be unacquainted with either their residence, per- 
 sons, or circumstances.’ — ‘All in good time, my 
 dear,’ said she ; ‘ you will find I don’t do things by 
 halves. I am now going to send a surgeon to the 
 poor woman. He has attended sick families before 
 by my direction ; and he is such a benevolent, 
 sweet soul, and such a favourite among ladies of 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 279 
 
 fashion whom he attends, that he will soon raise a 
 handsome sum for yon litter of starvelings.’ 
 
 Before I had time to reply, she rung at the door 
 of a genteel-looking house. 4 Is your master with- 
 in ?’ inquired she of a servant who opened the door. 
 —‘Yes, ma’am,’ said he, ‘hut engaged.’ — ‘Say 
 Mrs. Page waits.’ The servant showed us into a 
 room, bowed, and withdrew. 
 
 In about five minutes, a. little man, about five 
 feet in height, with a wig finely curled and pow- 
 dered, and a gold snuff-box in his hand, entered. 
 ‘ Ha ! my charming Mrs. Page,’ cried he, ‘ and 
 have you ventured out this thick foggy morning? 
 By heavens ! it was a bold u ndertaking. The clouds 
 
 are resting upon the pavement, and ’ ‘ Exactly 
 
 so,’ interrupted Mrs. Page, ‘ I have just emerged 
 from the clouds, and come like an angel of light, 
 with my celestial companion, Mrs. Boyd, to an- 
 nounce a message of heavenly charity to Doctor do 
 Fivars.’ — ‘Your servant,’ said the doctor, bowing 
 to me very profoundly, ‘ you are certainly of the 
 race divine. Such a benign countenance — such an 
 airy, sylph-like shape— are not to be found amongst 
 earthly mortals.’ — ‘You are inclined to be merry, 
 sir,’ observed I. — ‘ To business,’ said Mrs. Page. 
 
 ‘ A poor family near the Seven Dials ’ ‘ The 
 
 most wonderful thing you ever heard, madam,’ in- 
 terrupted the doctor : ‘ the Honourable Lady Syd- 
 ney given up by nine surgeons for the cancer, and 
 cured by myself, root and branch, in eight days. 
 Oh! the murderers now-a-davs run about with 
 lancets in their hands, crying out, ‘ Blood, blood !’ 
 Yes, it is, madam, a very strong epithet— a very 
 strong epithet ; but a gentleman of skill and science 
 cannot view our modern surgeons in any other 
 light than as privileged murderers. The lance and 
 the knife are never out of their hands. They hack, 
 cut, divide, and scarify Christian flesh, as if people 
 were stocks and stones. Nature has opened her 
 stores, and offered us herbs spited for the cure of 
 every ill which providence inflicts upon the human 
 
280 bosina ; 
 
 race ; but then 1 must confess there are few, very 
 few, who have been permitted to peep behind the 
 mantle of nature, and to discern her hidden mys- 
 teries. I — I have the supreme and superlative 
 
 honour of being distinguished above all the * 
 
 Oh ! you are speaking of the Seven Dials. The de- 
 rivation of this name is very curious. Those skill- 
 ed in the history of this island know that it was 
 called, by the famous Phoenicians, four hundred 
 years before Christ, Baratanae , or the Land of Tin. 
 This word comes originally from the Hebrew. 
 Others call this Albion , from the Celtic, meaning a 
 high or outer country \ though Aristotle, in his im- 
 mortal work entitled 4 De Mundo,’ says Now, 
 
 madam, you must understand that Aristotle was a 
 mighty wise philosopher — none of your modern 
 pretenders : for a fellow now-a-days, whom pure 
 nature and bright science alike disown, if he can 
 
 but get a certificate from the college of ’ ‘ But, 
 
 my dear doctor,’ cried Mrs. Page, ‘ let us discuss 
 
 the matter afterwards. At present, the ’ ‘ Oh \ 
 
 aye,’ interrupted he, 4 the Seven Dials, as I was 
 
 saying, is a name or term derived ’ 4 Excuse 
 
 us at this moment,’ said Mrs. Page ; 4 time flies, and 
 I saw your old patient pass just as you entered.’—* 
 ‘ Good, good,’ said he : ‘ ladies, walk this way. I 
 wdll hear your case, Mrs. Page, at leisure. At the 
 Seven Dials, I think you said ?’ 
 
 4 Yes,’ replied Mrs. Page ; and, pointing to a 
 room, she requested me to walk in, and wait a few 
 minutes. 4 1 have several important particulars to 
 settle with the doctor,’ she whispered me, 4 and he 
 is so rambling and loquacious with his intimate 
 friends ; but I’ll be with you in a few minutes.’ 
 
 I entered, and sat down to reflect. I did not 
 understand this business. Mrs. Page was undoubt- 
 edly playing off some trick. She had done nothing 
 for the poor family ; and this doctor, so far from 
 being intelligent and benevolent, was, in my opinion, 
 a shallow, flippant, and disgusting quack. 
 
 As I was thus indulging in conjectures, the room 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 231 
 
 door was opened by a servant, who said, ‘ My mas- 
 ter will be disengaged in a minute, when he will 
 have the pleasure of waiting upon you;’ and just 
 then Sir Henry Cleveland walked in. I now re- 
 membered what the poor woman had said of the 
 spruce footman, and the whole plot was instantly 
 unravelled. I was quickly resolved to treat him 
 with a cold, haughty civility, and rose to receive 
 him ; while I felt a glow of indignation spread 
 over my cheeks. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 QIR HENRY CLEVELAND looked rather flur- 
 O ried; but he soon regained his self-possession, 
 and stood erect, adjusting his cravat. I saw he 
 was preparing to begin his part of the drama. 
 
 This meeting is very odd,’ said he.— ‘ Purely acci- 
 dental, Sir Henry,’ replied I.’— ‘ It is, my dear/ 
 cried he, ‘ and I must seize the good sent me by the 
 gods. I have had the vanity to think, continued 
 he, ‘ that my rank and my fortune, without allud- 
 ing to personal accomplishments [and he glanced 
 into a mirror], might have justified me in making 
 proposals to ladies of the first rank ; but who can 
 account for the caprices of love ? From the first 
 moment I beheld your lovely form, I forgot your 
 want of rank and fortune, and surrendered up my 
 heart to the delicious fancy of devoting my days 
 and nights to the contemplation of your superla- 
 tive beauty. I indulged the hope that you were 
 possessed of great merit, and am happy that I was 
 not deceived. Let it, then, be my task to rescue 
 you from obscurity and poverty ; and, permit me 
 to add, from the dishonourable designs of that fel- 
 low, Captain Ross.’ 
 
 ‘Dishonourable designs!’ echoed I.— ‘ Oh ! I beg 
 Mrs. Boyd’s pardon. I am afraid I have touched 
 on a delicate subject.’ — ‘ You have, Sir Henry/ 
 said I ; ‘ but pray proceed.’—* Then I humbly pray 
 that you would ingenuously confess what you dis- 
 like in me; why I am so shunned, and affronted, 
 
282 ROSINA;OR, 
 
 and mortified .’ — 1 Amongst other things, Sir Henry,* 
 I replied, ‘ I hate trickery and bombast.’ — ‘ Upon 
 honour I did not expect this. I know not in what 
 manner to address you.’ — ‘ Speak truth in plain 
 prose,’ said I. 
 
 ‘ Alas 1 my dear charmer,’ said Sir Henry, ‘ your 
 heart,’ I am afraid, is engaged ; or else you have a 
 mind to deviate from your usual politeness.’ — ‘ If 
 my heart be engaged, as you imagine, you will, I 
 hope, cease to persecute me.’ — ‘ Persecute you ! 
 impossible !’ said he ! ‘if to adore you — if to love 
 you above all things— if to lay down my life, my 
 rank, my fortune, at your feet — if all this be perse- 
 cution, I must persecute you. Aye, I will tease 
 you with tenderness; I will be your perpetual 
 shadow ; whatever wind blows shall waft my sighs 
 to your ears. I will, yes, I will — — * 
 
 ‘ Go on, Sir Henry,’ said I ; ‘ this is really admi- 
 rable.’ — ‘ Admirable !’ exclaimed he, peevishly, ‘the 
 devil! When will beauty cease to be capricious? 
 Permit me to proceed?’ I nodded. ‘ Finding that 
 
 without you life would be a dull blank, I ’ 
 
 ‘Yes,’ interrupted I, ‘I clearly understand you. 
 Having desires of your own to gratify, and finding 
 me a retired, unprotected female, you drove me 
 from my usual walks by your rude importunities. 
 You formed a plot to entrap me, in conjunction 
 with your amiable friend, Miss Jenkinson. You 
 are now in correspondence with Mrs. Page ; and I 
 am induced, by a tissus of gross, ill-contrived false- 
 hoods, to enter into this house, in order that vour 
 knightship might have an opportunity of telling 
 me how you have bemeaned yourself, by stooping 
 to pick me up, and set me aside for your own plea- 
 sure and gratification.’ 
 
 ‘ Nay, 'by Jove,’ said Sir Henry, ‘ this is too bad. 
 Have I made any proposal to you not dictated by 
 love and esteem ?’ — ‘ If your proposal, sir,’ replied 
 I, ‘ be honourable, I reject it ; for I am sensible of 
 my own unworthiness, compared to a gentleman of 
 such superlative merit. If it implies any thing dis- 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2S3 
 
 honourable, I spurn it with contempt. In either 
 case, we cannot possibly agree ; so you will oblige 
 me by dropping the subject.’ — ‘No, my love, I 
 must drop this,’ falling down on his knees ; ‘ I 
 must solicit your pardon and favour. Those fine 
 
 eyes— that beautiful cheek- those lips— that ’ 
 
 ‘ Nonsense !’ exclaimed I, with a look of scorn and 
 anger that in a moment brought the gentleman 
 into his natural posture of erect consequence ; when 
 Mrs. Page entered $he room. 
 
 ‘My goodness!’ cried she, ‘who would have 
 dreamed of this P You hear, Sir Harry ! Ah ! you 
 rogue, what a fine scent you have ! And has this 
 gallant knight,’ continued she, turning to me, ‘ been 
 running a tilt against your little stony heart 
 ‘Madam,’ said I, with a grave kind of severity, * I 
 must return home instantly.’ — ‘ Certainly, my dear,’ 
 said she. Sir Henry stood, and looked rather 
 sheepish. He durst not offer to accompany us, so 
 we walked out alone. On the road I never opened 
 my mouth ; and Mrs. Page, who I suspect had been 
 listening to our conversation, durst not speak, lest 
 she should draw down a reproof upon herself. 
 
 During the space of two or three days, Mrs. Pag* 
 never alluded to Sir Henry Cleveland, nor the poor 
 family near the Seven Dials, whom I had again 
 visited and comforted. At this time, Lady Beck- 
 ford received a letter from Lincoln, informing her 
 of the sickness of an old maiden lady, sister to the 
 late Sir William Beckford, and who earnestly de- 
 sired to see her ladyship. Lady Beckford enter- 
 tained a high esteem for this aged relative, which, 
 combined with regard for her late husband, at once 
 determined her, and she instantly prepared for the 
 journey. After giving Mrs. Page many serious in- 
 junctions, and promising me to return in a few 
 days, she set off. I did not feel comfortable at the 
 idea of living under the charge of the volatile Mrs. 
 Page ; but I resolved to be always upon my guard, 
 and to avoid company, or the making of visits, as 
 much as possible. 
 
284 rosina; or, 
 
 The day after Lady Beckford’s departure, Mrs. 
 Page, at breakfast, turned the conversation upon 
 Sir Henry Cleveland. ‘ Ho you know, my dear,’ 
 said she, ‘that I saw Sir Henry yesterday ‘ I 
 know it now,’ said I, shyly.— 4 Well, to be sure, 
 you are a most provoking creature. Here is Sir 
 Henry, as pretty a gentleman as walks the streets 
 of London, absolutely dying for you ; and yet you 
 refuse him the opportunity of winning your affec- 
 tions.’— ‘ It Would be labour lost,’ replied I: ‘Sir 
 Henry can neter gain even my esteem, without he 
 becomes quite another person.’ — ‘ Hid one ever 
 hear such perverseness? Well, now, I think him 
 the finest gentleman I ever knew ; and he is cele- 
 brated for his gallantry.’ — ‘ Yes,’ said I, ‘ he began 
 Very early to figure in that line ; but I think his 
 gallantry, as you' call it, did not please the lord 
 chief justice and the twelve surly fellows whom ha 
 consulted on this subject.’ 
 
 Mrs. Page coloured, and looked surprised ; but 
 she soon recovered, and observed, ‘ You, my dear 
 friend, do not know the world yet. All young 
 gentlemen of spirit commit some few little pecca- 
 dilloes ; but a generous rake always makes a good 
 husband.’ — ‘ Ho you find Sir Henry generous, Mrs. 
 Page ?’ — ‘ La !’ said she, ‘ how you talk ! But per- 
 haps you w T ant to affront me ?’ — ‘ Not I ; but does 
 Sir Henry really intend to make me Lady Cleve- 
 land ? He speaks so ambiguously that I cannot 
 understand him ; but if he really proposes this,’ said 
 I, rubbing my hands, ‘it will prove he is in earnest. 
 Speak, my dear Mrs. Page.’ 
 
 ‘ I do not wonder at your surprise,’ said she. ‘ He 
 always appeared to me so fond of liberty, that I 
 never thought he would marry ; but he says that 
 he would be honoured in wearing your chains. He 
 perfectly adores you, and has declared to me a 
 'thousand times, in the most solemn manner, that 
 he cannot endure existence without you. You are 
 certainly very pretty, Mrs. Boyd ; but you have 
 taken an awkward name. Nobody knows you; 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 285 
 
 and if you were known, (I speak it without design- 
 ing any offence,) your birth and parentage would 
 not entitle you to rank in the fashionable world. 
 Now, Sir Henry, dear creature, consents to over- 
 look all this, and to make you his true and honour- 
 able wife.’ 
 
 ‘Oh! the dear creature!’ cried I: ‘he is too 
 generous : he is too good. Why do you not take 
 lam yourself, Mrs. Page?’— ‘I once, Mrs. Boyd,* 
 said she, ‘ heard the praises of my beauty said or 
 sung almost every hour of the day. That time is 
 past, though I do not think I am yet absolutely dis- 
 agreeable. But you are the unplucked rose : there 
 is the difference. I knew that your feeling heart 
 would express its gratitude when you were assured 
 that Sir Henry’s intentions were honourable. Ah ! 
 how happy you will be in possession of such a 
 polished gentleman, who can procure you the best 
 company and the most elegant pleasures/ 
 
 ‘ The idea of so much unmerited happiness quite 
 oppresses me,’ replied I. ‘ Pray, if you respect me, 
 never say another word on this subject.’ — ‘That 
 would be hard indeed,’ said Mrs. Page. ‘ Why 
 should we not converse about a gentleman who es- 
 teems you above all the females in the world ?’ — 
 ‘ His goodness and condescension are so great,’ said 
 I, ‘that really, Mrs. Page, the subject distresses 
 me; and if you do not drop it, I must retire.’ — 
 ‘ Well, well, you young minx, you will always have 
 your own way. Be it so, then.’ 
 
 Lady Beckford’s maid usually waited upon me 
 after her mistress had gone to bed ; but, since her 
 departure, Mrs. Page had sent up her own maid. 
 This was Nancy, whom I had rescued from impri- 
 sonment, when taken into custody for offering to 
 pawn her misti ess's necklace. I had also conferred 
 6ome other little favours upon her, for which she 
 appeared very thankful. About bed-time this 
 night, she entered my room as usual, and began to 
 put my hair into curls. She appeared remarkably 
 dull and silent ; and before she had finished, I said, 
 
286 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 ‘ What is the matter, Nancy ? You look very 
 grave to-night. Are you not well ?’ — Nancy hesi- 
 tated, looked frightened, and then stammered out, 
 
 * No, indeed, madam, I am not well.’ — ‘ I am sorry 
 to hear that,’ replied I, in a soothing tone. ‘ What 
 is the nature of your complaint ?’ — c Oh ! I am not 
 ill on my own account. It is for your sake, ma- 
 dam.’ — ‘You surprise me, Nancy,’ observed I. 
 ‘ What do you mean ?’ — ‘ I am afraid, madam,’ said 
 she, hesitatingly, ‘that you will despise me for 
 being a listener : but I could not help it ; for you 
 know, madam, the Green Room, and the adjoining 
 closet, where Mrs. Page sat down to sew, are di- 
 vided from each other by a very slight partition 
 only ; and when I heard you named, I could not, 
 for the soul of me, refuse to hear what was said, 
 for you have always been so generous and so kind.’ 
 — ‘ But who was it, Nancy, that was speaking of 
 me ?’ said I, interrupting her. — ‘ Well, surely,’ re- 
 plied she, ‘ it was so wic 1 ’ 1 ' T ' 
 
 madam, only screen me from the anger of Mrs. 
 Page.’ — ‘Pray go on,’ said I. ‘ You speak in rid- 
 dles.’ 
 
 ‘Why, then, you must know, madam,’ said 
 Nancy, ‘ that that bad man, Sir Harry Cleveland, 
 w T as just now with my mistress. I cail him a bad 
 man, for he wanted once to be naughty with me : 
 but I am a poor girl, and if I give up my virtue 
 and my good name, I have nothing left, « and must 
 be miserable for life ; so I resisted the tempter, and 
 complained to my mistress of his rudeness ; but she 
 only laughed, and said I was a silly jade. Well, 
 but that matters not. So, as I was telling you, 
 this Sir Harry called this evening on my mistress ; 
 and I thought there was no ill in this, as they sat 
 down to drink a social glass of wine together. So, 
 you see, I sewed away, as I had been bidden, and 
 began to think on the pleasant days I had spent in 
 my native village, when I was a very young girl. 
 But, all at once your name struck my ear. ‘ It ia 
 
 all. Only don’t expose 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 2S7 
 
 not right to speak of ladies behind their backs,’ 
 thought I. So I dropped my work, and moved 
 nearer the partition, where I heard all. Oh ! ma- 
 dam, I never thought the world was so wicked.’ — 
 ‘ Too wicked, Nancy,’ said I. ‘ But pray proceed.’ 
 ‘ Well, Sir Henry swore like a bad man, and said 
 you laughed at him, but that he would be put off 
 no longer, for he was resolved to enjoy you, cost 
 what it would. Mrs. Page said that you had some 
 good friends, and that force would not do, but a 
 little stratagem might. So she related what you 
 had said about Sir Harry’s intention of marrying 
 you. She told him that you was quite overjoyed 
 at the overture, though on reflection you began to 
 look a little shy again ; and she ended by assuring 
 him that nothing would gain you but making you 
 a wife. And then, dear madam, he swore and 
 laughed, and Mrs. Page laughed, for she knew 
 what he intended. So it was settled that his but- 
 ler, Richard, be dressed up like a parson, and that 
 he be in waiting to-morrow evening, and, if you 
 won’t then consent, some other evening, when you 
 are to be married by this mock priest. He is then 
 to take you to his country cottage in Kent, where 
 he says he can safely defy the keenest pursuers. 
 This wicked scheme made my very flesh creep when 
 I heard it ; and whatever might be the consequence, 
 I determined to tell you the whole before I slept.’ 
 
 I answered, ‘ Nancy, I am obliged to you. Be 
 not afraid that I will betray you, and be easy as it 
 respects me. I know that Sir Henry is an un- 
 principled man, and that knowledge is my protec- 
 tion. Be silent yourself, Nancy, and do not excite 
 suspicion.’ She promised to observe my injunc- 
 tions ; but indeed she possessed a very considerable 
 portion of shrewdness and firmness of mind. 
 
 When left alone, a succession of painful reflec- 
 tions and apprehensions crowded upon my mind. I 
 considered the many plots that had been formed to 
 effect my ruin, and the many pretended friends 
 that had attempted to betray me, and almost re- 
 
2S8 
 
 HOSINA ; OR, 
 
 gretted that nature had been so bountiful in the 
 formation of my person. I happened to be in a 
 high flow of spirits when Mrs. Page conversed with 
 me respecting Sir Henry Cleveland, and had spoken 
 in an ironical tone, which I now found she had 
 mistaken for the language of truth and soberness. 
 This also gave me much uneasiness, and I resolved 
 for the future never to indulge a disposition to wit 
 or satire on serious subjects. These thoughts oc- 
 cupied my attention during a considerable part of 
 the night ; and when I did sleep, my rest was bro- 
 ken and unrefreshing. 
 
 Next day, the Earl of Glenford made a morning 
 call at our house. He instantly perceived that I 
 was dull and low spirited, and insisted upon know- 
 ing what had disturbed me. Thinking that I 
 might benefit from his experience, I told him all, 
 particularly lamenting that I had indulged in a 
 strain of humour while talking with Mrs. Page. I 
 expressed, in strong terms, my sense of perfect se- 
 curity from open attacks ; but that, living in the 
 same house with a lady so accustomed to intrigue 
 as Mrs. Page had been, I could not pretend to pro- 
 tect myself from her private plots. His lordship 
 reflected for a moment, and then said that he would 
 advise me to free myself at once from the fellow’s 
 impertinence. I replied that I would do this most 
 willingly, did I know how to effect it. ‘ Why, 
 keep up the deceit,’ said his lordship, ‘ and accept 
 his offer of marriage.’ This advice struck me 
 dumb. ‘ What can his lordship mean ?’ thought I. 
 * Does he wish to entrap me into a marriage with 
 this worthless man, in order to defeat the inten- 
 tions of his noble relative ? Or does he only pro- 
 pose that I should procure a promise of marriage 
 from Sir Henry, and then sue him for its breach ?’ 
 I was lost— bewildered. ‘ You do not answer me, 
 madam,’ said his lordship ; on which I replied firm- 
 ly, ‘ My lord, the use of deceit is part of your plan. 
 I therefore reject it in toto.’ Glenford smiled and 
 said, ‘ We should all become good Christians, were 
 
T1IE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAIL*. 289 
 
 righteousness preached from such a pair of pretty 
 lips.’ 
 
 While he was speaking, the minister of South 
 Lambeth entered. His lordship immediately de- 
 tailed, with great exactness, what I had said re- 
 specting Sir Henry, and added, ‘ The attentions of 
 such a person are insulting, degrading, and dan- 
 gerous. I have, therefore, advised our friend to 
 dismiss him at once ; for effecting which purpose, 
 it will be necessary that she accepts of his proposal 
 of marriage. But she has rejected my advice with 
 a strong feeling of alarm and offended pride.’ Oh ! 
 how well this nobleman knew all the workings of 
 the human passions ! — how impossible it was to dis- 
 guise your feelings from the keen discrimination ! 
 
 The clergyman, I expected, would support my 
 opinion ; but, to my great surprise, he said, ad- 
 dressing me, ‘ I am persuaded, madam, that better 
 advice could not be given.’ ‘ What, sir !’ exclaimed 
 I, in a tone of unaffected surprise, ‘ do you advise 
 me to practice deceit ?’ — ‘ No, my child,’ he replied 
 gravely, ‘ you mistak. ‘ Deceit is an artifice for 
 gaining a bad end. I do not advise you to cheat 
 even Sir Henry ; but I think a little stratagem not 
 only harmless, but meritorious, if it tends to check 
 his career of wickedness, and to preserve your own 
 peace and character from the effects of his intrigues. 
 His lordship and I have already discussed this sub- 
 ject ; and I am delighted to think that you Lava 
 treated this proposal with that kind of ambiguous 
 humour which admits of a little counterplot, and 
 w T hich, amongst other things, occurred to us.’ He 
 then proceeded to state how narrowly Sir Henry’s 
 conduct towards me had been watched, and in- 
 formed me of several little circumstances of which 
 I had been unacquainted. He concluded by tell- 
 ing me in what manner he could exercise an influ- 
 ence over Sir Henry, and describing how he would 
 have me to act. 
 
 Well, what could I do ? The matter appeared 
 plain and simple. There could be no scheme to en- 
 
 S 
 
290 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 trap me ; and even if there was, I could at the last 
 save myself. I consented, and thanked my friends 
 for the kind concern they had taken in my affairs, 
 when they immediately withdrew. 
 
 At dinner, Mrs. Page was more than ordinarily 
 diffuse in the praise of my charms, but always end- 
 ed her eulogiums by noticing how brief and uncer- 
 tain was the reign of beauty. After spending some 
 time in small talk, she proposed to sing, if I would 
 accompany her on the pianoforte. In the middle of 
 our amusement, she stopped short, and said, ‘We 
 are to have company to tea, my dear.’— ‘ As you 
 please, Mrs. Page,’ I answered, 6 for I intend to 
 take tea in my own room.’ — ‘ What a perverse child 
 you must be ! Now here was I plagued, and teased, 
 and importuned, and flattered, with sighs and tears 
 quantum stiff, for above two hours, for permission 
 to drink tea with me. These compliments would 
 have been exceedingly grateful to my heart ; but 
 then I knew that all this sighing and sobbing was 
 on account of another. Was that not mortifying, 
 my dear ?’ 
 
 ‘ I suppose,’ said I, 1 you are now alluding to Sir 
 Henry Cleveland.’ — ‘ Aye, you are right. Who 
 else could show such signs of real love ? I wish 
 the dear fellow would take me. My husband was 
 an old, infirm, cold, ailing shadow of a man, whose 
 very appearance turned one’s stomach. Had he 
 been such a smart, spirited young blood as Sir 
 Henry is, I should never have survived him.’ ‘ I 
 pity your case, Mrs. Page,’ said I ; ‘ and, as far as 
 I am concerned, resign the fascinating Sir Henry 
 to you.’-— ‘ How you talk !’ said she, ‘ as if true and 
 faithful love could ever change its object. But 
 seriously, my dear, Sir Henry is so ardent, and you 
 are so capricious, that I really tremble lest he 
 should commit any thing desperate ; and I am sure 
 you would grieve all your life long, were you to 
 occasion the death of such a fine gentleman, and 
 one so universally beloved.’ — ‘ Now, my dear Mrs. 
 Page,’ replied I, rising to go, ‘you terrify me. I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID, 
 
 201 
 
 shall do nothing but dream of Sir Henry lying wel- 
 tering in his blood, with the murderous pistol 
 clasped in his convulsed hand.’ — ‘Well, but you 
 will take tea with us ?’ inquired she. — ‘ I shall 
 think of it,’ replied I, on leaving the room. 
 
 In about an hour afterwards, Mrs. Page came up 
 stairs, to persuade me to join her at the tea-table. 
 At length I suffered myself to be prevailed upon. 
 Sir Henry, who was waiting below, rose and re- 
 ceived me with great politeness. I sat down, but 
 I trembled, and my heart palpitated, when I 
 thought of the plots and counterplots of which I 
 was the object. During tea, Sir Henry was inces- 
 sant in his attentions and compliments ; but all 
 this was done with such delicacy, that it was im- 
 possible to feel any offence. Shortly after tea was 
 removed, Mrs. Page, on a frivolous pretext, with- 
 drew. 
 
 Sir Henry Cleveland began to pour out his pro- 
 testations of love and honour in vast profusion. He 
 assured me, with the most solemn asservations, 
 that his heart was devotedly mine, and that with- 
 out me existence would be absolutely insupport- 
 able. ‘ My fortune/ said he, ‘ is ample, my char- 
 acter unimpeached, and my credit, both in parlia- 
 ment and at court, stands high. I have an uncle, 
 who is now lying ill. He is seventy eight years of 
 age, and has willed me property to the amount of 
 ninety thousand pounds ; but he is very whimsical 
 and it would be madness for me to affront him. 
 He urges me to marry a nobleman’s daughter, who 
 has been repeatedly pressed upon me. But I loathe 
 the offering. You alone, my dear charmer, can 
 render me happy, or sink me into despair. As to 
 terms, I offer you carte blanche ; and if you will 
 consent to be mine, I engage to secure your felicity 
 by the most respectful attention to your inclination 
 in every particular of life. Speak— oh ! speak peace 
 and joy to my soul.’ 
 
 ‘ What can I say, Sir Henry ?’ I replied. ‘ You 
 overpower me with your eloquence.’ — ‘ I wish I 
 
202 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 could,’ he exclaimed. ‘ I wish I had the tongue of 
 angels ; then might I hop*- to gain a favourable 
 hearing from the most beautiful specimen of na- 
 ture’s handywork that was ever produced.— ‘ You 
 are a dangerous man, Sir Harry,’ replied I. ‘ You 
 flatter so skilfully, that I think I must listen to 
 such language no longer ;’ and I rose to depart. — 
 ‘ Then,’ said he, ‘ you will leave me, my life, my 
 soul, my all ! — and you leave me to misery, to des- 
 pair, to anguish unutterable ! But it cannot, shall 
 not be,’ he said, with energy ; and pulling out a 
 fine polished dagger from his breast, he tore open 
 his waistcoat, and presenting the hilt of the dagger 
 tome, continued, ‘There is my heart: pierce it, 
 search it to the bottom, for there your image lies 
 hid.’ This was done with such a theatrical air, 
 and with such well-counterfeited sincerity, as to 
 stagger me for a moment. On recovering, I said, 
 ‘ Sir Henry, this is strange. What do you want?’ 
 — ‘ I want you to give me hope. I want you to 
 enjoy all that I possess, and to make you as happy 
 as you deserve.’ ‘ Let me alone, Sir Henry,’ re- 
 plied I ; ‘I do not merit the notice of so great a 
 man.’ 
 
 ‘ So then,’ said Sir Henry, ‘ I am doomed to hope- 
 less misery. All my vows and protestations are 
 disregarded and misbelieved.’ — ‘ You dare not 
 marry,’ said I, 1 on account of your capricious 
 uncle. What, then, do you mean by giving me 
 carte blanche V — ‘ Not marry you, my love ! Do 
 you think Sir Henry is capable of insulting so pure 
 an angel with a dishonourable proposal? Perish 
 the thought ! No, my love, I will marry you this 
 very week, this day, nay, this hour ; — and the mo- 
 ment the old man departs to Abraham’s bosom, I 
 would show my wife in triumph to the world, and 
 present her at court. In the mean time, I have a 
 delightful cottage in Kent, within two hours’ ride 
 of London.’ — ‘But I think,’ said I, ‘we had bet- 
 ter wait till the old gentleman goes to heaven.’ — 
 * Oh ! no,’ exclaimed he : ‘if you knew the impa- 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAIP. 
 
 203 
 
 tience, the self-tormenting cares of a fearful lover, 
 you would not hesitate. Why not make me happy 
 now ? At this moment, my life, rank, and fortune 
 lie at your feet. If you refuse them, you will hear 
 to-morrow a tale that will harrow up your soul.’ — 
 ‘ Now, Sir Henry, do not frighten me so.’ — ‘ May I 
 then send for a priest P A worthy clergyman, 
 whom I know, lives in an adjoining street. I will 
 give him fifty guineas to perform the ceremony.’ — 
 ‘Well, really, I do declare, you are so positive — 
 there is no withstanding you. But you must grant 
 me some time to think.’ — ‘Think!’ cried he, while 
 he was writing a note hastily ; ‘ think !’ ringing 
 
 the hell ; ‘ why, as to thinking ’ A servant 
 
 appeared, who received the note, with the injunc- 
 tion to run, to fly. ‘ As to thinking, my heavenly 
 charmer, you must think only of the joys, the rap- 
 tures, the never-dying pleasures of wedded love 
 and he attempted to salute me. ‘Not so fast, Sir 
 Henry,’ said I, pushing him away ; ‘ such favours, 
 I think, should be reserved for husbands.’ — ‘ Well, 
 I submit,’ said he, seizing my hand. 
 
 Above half an hour passed in these kind of 
 petty attacks and repulses, interspersed with 
 vows of ardent affection, when Mrs. Page appear- 
 ed. He rose, met her with joy and triumph in his 
 countenance, and announced his happiness P but I 
 thought her looks showed doubt and perplexity. 
 He hoped, he said, he might be permitted to use 
 the house with the same freedom as if Lady Beck- 
 ford had been at home. ‘ Oh dear !’ I exclaimed, 
 ‘ how could I have forgotten my dear lady ? You 
 must absolutely wait, Sir Harry, until her consent 
 be obtained.’ Both now united in showing me my 
 folly, and how Lady Beckford would be enraptured 
 with the occurrence; when a servant announced 
 that the clergyman had arrived. 
 
 On hearing this, I confess I grew pale. I waa 
 feting under instructions which I could not well 
 j ustify ; and I felt fearful for the result. Sir Henry 
 requested ipe to take his arm ; and, as we walked 
 
294 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 out, he rallied me upon my fear and trembling. We 
 were conducted by Mrs. Page to the drawing-room 
 which had been chosen for the scene of action. As 
 I passed Nancy at the door, where she attended by 
 order, the poor girl gave me a look of unutterable 
 sorrow and surprise. The room was large, and but 
 badly lighted ; but, on entering, I could perceive a 
 clergyman, in his canonicals, sitting with a prayer- 
 book open before him, and his face covered with 
 one hand, which supported his head. John, our 
 footman, stood with a book a few paces behind, 
 ready to act as clerk ; but I perceived some lines of 
 drollery in his face that re-assured me. When we 
 had approached the tables, the clergyman rose 
 slowly and solemnly, and began, ‘ Dearly beloved, 
 we are gathered together in the sight of God, and 
 in the - — ’ ‘.Stop, sir,’ cried Sir Henry Cleveland, 
 1 there must he some mistake here.’ — ‘ Sir Henry ! 
 is it possible ?’ exclaimed the clergyman.— I beg, 
 sir, ten thousand pardons,’ stammered he. ‘ This 
 w r as just a little frolic — no harm intended, upon my 
 soul, sir— just some mistake of my awkward ser- 
 vant — a Christmas jest with this young lady, sir — 
 and, sir, I hope -’ 
 
 But I permitted him to stutter out no m ore bro- 
 ken sentences and lame excuses. I now relied on 
 the wisdom and spirit of my friends, and entered 
 into the design of the stratagem. ‘ What, Sir 
 Harry, do you now refuse to have me ? Will you 
 not suffer me to pick up your life, rai*h, and for- 
 tune, from my feet P Do you deny me, your angel 
 too, the supreme felicity of rendering you happy P 
 And must I never see your delightful cottage in 
 Kent ? How am I to exist after this terrible blow? 
 Oh ! you cruel, deceitful man — give me that pretty 
 shining dagger in your breast there, and I will do 
 a deed that will harrow up your false soul.’ While 
 I thus rallied him, he looked most inexpressibly 
 sheepish, and I desisted from pure compassion ; 
 while Nancy, without regarding her mistress’ 
 frowns, laughed aloud. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 295 
 
 * You were just about to commit a great crime, 
 Sir Henry,’ said the clergyman ; 4 but I will now 
 introduce to you the real Lady Cleveland, whom 
 you ought to adopt as your guardian angel, to pre- 
 serve you from evil. Come forward, my friends.’ 
 When, lo ! a well-dressed, elegant looking young 
 woman, issued from an adjoining small apartment. 
 She had a fine child, about fourteen months old, in 
 her arms, and was led by the Earl of Glenford. Sir 
 Henry started as if he had seen an apparition, and 
 the cold sweat dropped from his forehead. 
 
 4 Sir Henry Cleveland,’ said the clergyman, 4 at- 
 tend to my words ; and may the arrows of truth 
 penetrate into your obdurate heart. This woman 
 now standing before you was marked out as the 
 victim of your lusts. She was innocent, unsuspect- 
 ing, and confiding ; but she could not be induced 
 to abandon the paths of virtue and honour, and 
 never would have consented to yield to your im- 
 portunities and the impulses of her own feelings, if 
 the union had not been legally sanctioned by the 
 rites of religion. Your servant, Richard, was in- 
 structed to assume the character of a priest. He 
 was unwilling to lose his place, but he was still 
 more unwilling to commit a cruel sin. I had at- 
 tended him when he was lying at the point of death 
 of the typhus fever, and he applied to me for ad- 
 vice. I communicated the business to your uncle, 
 with whom I live, I am proud to say, in a state of 
 sincere and unreserved friendship. Agreeably to 
 Jiis desire. I personated Richard, who had been in- 
 structed to assume a complete disguise ; and I mar- 
 ried you, in your own house in Kennington, to this 
 woman, Ann Nelson, who thereby became your 
 lawful wife.’ 
 
 4 I’m not so simple as to swallow that improbable 
 tale,’ said Sir Henry, rather pertly . — 4 But. sir,’ re- 
 joined the clergyman, 4 you shall not only swallow, 
 but also digest it. 4 Richard!’ cried he. On which 
 Richard likewise appeared issuing from the 
 .closet door. 4 Did you not engage me to unite 
 
296 ROSINA ; OR 
 
 in marriage Sir Henry Cleveland and Ann Nelson ? 
 4 I did, sir,’ answered Richard, 4 and was witness to 
 the ceremony.’ — 4 You lie, you rascal,’ vociferated 
 Sir Henry, 4 and I’ll kick you down stairs.’ — 4 Sir,* 
 replied Richard, 4 1 am not inclined to suffer 
 myself either to be bullied or kicked.’— 4 You shall 
 be dismissed from my service this very hour,’ said 
 Sir Henry, warmly ; and it will be for you, Sir,’ 
 continued he, turning to the clergyman, 4 to justify 
 yourself for performing clandestine marriages. 
 Such conduct cannot be legal.’ 
 
 The latter replied, 4 Big talk, Sir Henry, will 
 avail you nothing. Richard is already provided 
 for, and next week takes possession both of a wife 
 and a public-house. I am prepared to prove the 
 validity of your marriage, and am capable of de- 
 fending my own conduct. Your connexion with 
 gamblers and Jews has led you to the brink of 
 ruin : and your uncle will save you only on condi- 
 tion that you repair, as is in your power, the injury 
 you have inflicted upon this innocent woman, 
 whom you cruelly turned out of doors when your 
 sensual appetites were sated. All the favours you 
 are to expect can be received only through your 
 wife, on whom, this child, your uncle has settled 
 that personal property which was once destined for 
 you alone. Your attempts to ruin this other young 
 lady were from the first hopeless, though your ex- 
 cessive vanity led you to believe the contrary. She 
 possesses too much discernment and virtue to be- 
 come the prey of such a man as Sir Henry Cleve- 
 land. As for you, madam,’ said he, addressing 
 Mrs. Page, 4 1 leave you to settle the matter with 
 your own conscience. You have endeavoured to 
 minister to the vices of this wicked man, by the be- 
 trayal of innocence ; and to bring down disgrace 
 and vexation upon your sister, Lady Beckford, by 
 making her house the scene of an infamous intrigue, 
 I know that you must have been bribed to partake 
 in this infamous transaction ; but I know the ne- 
 cessities and meanness of Sir Henry too well to be-? 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 207 
 
 lieve that you will ever be rewarded. You will 
 find, madam, that the devil is a bad paymaster.’ 
 
 Sir Henry was transfixed to the spot where he 
 stood : he looked pale and trembled. Mrs. Page 
 cried aloud, and wrung her hands in an agony of 
 grief. The poor woman with her child slipped 
 around, and, falling at Sir Henry’s feet, clasped his 
 knees and vrept bitterly. I wvas deeply affected, 
 and all my gaiety was dissipated,. At last, Sir 
 Henry found words, and, addressing his wife, said, 
 ‘ That is a d — d hard case. I am finely humbugged 
 truly. But how the devil can a gentleman of my 
 rank acknowledge a shoemaker’s daughter for his 
 wife F By Jove, that would be a fine go indeed.’ 
 — 4 Not such a disgrace, Sir Henry,’ said the clergy-, 
 man, 4 as if you were to persist in a course of infa- 
 mous hypocrisy, meanness, and wickedness. At 
 present, Lady Cleveland,’ continued he, raising the 
 poor woman, 4 you must return home with me 
 When Sir Henry has had time to reflect, we will 
 hear from him.’ 
 
 4 Oh ! I am undone,’ exclaimed Mrs. Page. — 
 4 There is no person here,’ said the Earl of Grlen- 
 ford, ‘belonging to the family, except John and 
 your own maid. You understand me. We shall 
 say nothing, but leave you at leisure to repent your 
 connexion with the gallant Sir Henry Cleveland,’ 
 whom he turned about to address ; but Sir Henry 
 had vanished. We heard him run down stairs, and 
 his chaise, which was waiting at the door, drive off. 
 Thus was I freed from the persevering attacks of a 
 vain, specious, but unprincipled man. 
 
 It was the second day after this occurrence be- 
 fore Mrs. Page was visible. We met first at break- 
 fast. I felt ashamed to look upon her, lest I should 
 hurt her feelings ; but she was perfectly unembar- 
 rassed. When the servant had withdrawn, she 
 said, with much gravity, 4 1 think my dear, that 
 men were sent on earth to punish us for our sins. 
 For my part, I shall renounce the whole sex. That 
 monster, Cleveland, >ms given me a shock which 
 
293 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 my poor nerves will never recover. Who conld 
 have imagined that such a genteel, fair-spoken 
 gentleman, could have been so had ? Then he is as 
 stingy as an old miser. The creature stinks in my 
 nostrils.’ — 4 He is an intolerable bore,’ replied I. 
 
 4 He holds his purse-strings so tight, that I wonder 
 you could ever endure him.’ — 4 Oh ! I know how it 
 is, my dear. You intend to be severe upon me. 
 But I shall bow my head to the lash, and meekly 
 receive my merited chastisement.’^- 4 You wrong 
 me, Mrs,. Page, if you suppose me capable of vin- 
 dictive feelings.’ — 4 Well, my clear, if you forgive 
 my imprudence, I shall go to church to.-day to re^ 
 turn thanks, and to make some fresh good resolu- 
 tions. Will you go P Dr. Bland preaches ; a most 
 charming preacher, whom all the town is running 
 after.’ 
 
 I agreed to accompany her to church. The audi- 
 ence was numerous and genteel ; but the preacher, 
 though neat in his language, was so cold, formal, 
 and affected, that I heard him with an indifference 
 that alarmed me, lest I had lost my devotional feel** 
 ings. In the porch I again saw the same striking 
 figure that had appeared in the door of our box at 
 the opera. His dark shaggy eyebrows were knit 
 in anxiety, while his eyes shot forth a species of 
 consuming fire, which I could not contemplate.; 
 and I started and held by Mrs. Page’s arm. With- 
 out noticing my confusion, he raised his hat, and 
 made a very graceful bow, which Mrs. Page re** 
 turned by a low curtsey. When in the carriage, 
 I said, 4 Do you know the gentleman that saluted 
 you ?’ — 4 No, my dear/— 4 Then why did you recog** 
 nize him as an old friend ?’ — 4 Oh ! I have met him 
 at Scarborough a few seasons ago.’ — 4 What is his 
 name ?’— 4 The Honourable Colonel Douglas,’ she 
 replied. X said no more. I had heard of Colonel 
 Douglas. 
 
 I went again to visit the poor family near the 
 Seven Dials, in whose welfare I felt a deep inter- 
 est. I was surprised, on entering the house, to find 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 20!) 
 
 nn elegantly dressed lady, of about fifty years of 
 age, patting the head of the elder boy. She imme- 
 diately rose, saluted me, and took her leave. Her 
 dress, on a second look, struck me as being rather 
 gaudy than chaste ; and her manner as uncom- 
 monly free, and I thought almost bold. I had no- 
 ticed a very elegant landau standing a few yards 
 from the door, attended by two servants in rich 
 liveries. I therefore concluded that they belonged 
 to this lady, who must move in the first circles of 
 fashion. 
 
 ‘Do you know that fine lady ?’ said the poor 
 widow.— ‘ I do not,’ I answered. ‘ Pray who is 
 she ?’ — ‘ Indeed, madam,’ she replied, ‘ that is more 
 than I can tell. Mrs. Somerston, my kind neigh- 
 bour, is also anxious to know her title : she thinks 
 there is a coronet on the lady’s arms. She 
 appears to be a good-hearted Christian. I do not 
 like her way of talk ; though it does not become 
 me to say so, as she has been a messenger of glad 
 tidings to me and my poor babes.’ — ‘ Has the lady 
 called often?’ I asked.’— ‘Oh! no, madam,’ said 
 she, ‘ I saw her yesterday for the first time ; but 
 she lamented very much that she had not heard of 
 my case sooner. She is to provide for my eldest 
 boy in an hospital to which she subscribes, and she 
 has promised to take home and educate piy poor 
 Barbara. Her ladyship insists that I should take a 
 green-grocer’s shop in some good situation, and 
 has offered to raise a purse amongst the nobility to 
 set me up •; but I am not yet able to move out. 
 Ah ! my dear lady,’ continued she, weeping, ‘ how 
 wonderful is the goodness of God! He took my 
 husband from me ; but he has himself become a 
 father to the fatherless, and a husband to the 
 widow.’ I sympathized in the grateful feelings 
 and joyful anticipations of this poor woman, and 
 returned home pleased with the reflection of so 
 many, who fare sumptuously every day, doing good. 
 
 Next morning, I received a card, with a Lady 
 Warrenford’s respects, who begged a few moments’ 
 
300 ROSIN A ; OR, 
 
 conversation. I acceded ; when the charitable lady 
 I had seen the preceding day entered. She intro- 
 duced herself with great politeness ; said she had 
 heard with delight, of my charities and my amiable 
 disposition ; and she would feel proud of my ac- 
 quaintance. ‘ I live/ said she, ‘ very dull and re- 
 tired, and would highly esteem the occasional calls 
 of a lady so accomplished, and whose charactei 
 stands so high.’ 
 
 ‘ I fear/ replied I, ‘ that your ladyship has been 
 misinformed. My charities are as limited as my 
 means ; and I am too obscure for the world to know 
 or care any thing of my character ; nor have I any 
 pretensions to the title of a lady.’ — ‘ Just as I ex- 
 pected : the very personification of modesty. But 
 I will have no excuse. You must dine with me 
 to-morrow, as I wish to introduce you to my Lord 
 Warrenford.’ — ‘ I am sensible of your ladyship’s 
 kindness/ replied I; ‘but I am living here under 
 the protection of Lady Beckford, and I cannot 
 form new connexions or repay visits without her 
 approbation.’ — ‘ Exactly as it ought to be/ said her 
 ladyship : ‘But my friend Beckford and I have a 1? 
 ways entertained for each other the most profound 
 esteem. I wish her ladyship had been at home. 
 We had many litttle projects on foot for the good 
 of the poor.’ After some further talk of this kind, 
 she asked me if I would accompany her that Sven? 
 ing to the theatre, for Quinn was to appear in one 
 of his very best characters. I refused, and her lady? 
 ship took her leave. 
 
 At tea, I was surprised by the return of Lady 
 Warrenford. She ran forward, exclaiming, ‘ Oh ! 
 my dear Mrs. Page, where have you been for this 
 century past ? I have often talked of you, but al? 
 ways understood you had renounced the world, the 
 flesh, and the devil, and gone into retirement. 
 Well, I am sure the world would have been dull 
 without you. And how delighted I am to find you 
 with the excellent Lady Beckford. I do not know 
 Jio w it is, but I think you monopolize half of the 
 
T1IE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 :oi 
 
 virtue in the world in this house. This sweet 
 young angel,’ she continued, looking at me, ‘ has 
 attracted my admiration. She almost agreed to 
 accompany me to see Quinn to-night ; and as you 
 are here, I will accept of no excuses. Come, my 
 dears, make ready.’ 
 
 Mrs. Page answered in a similar strain, and be- 
 gan to prepare for the theatre. I liked the manner 
 of Lady Warrenford less and less ; but I could not 
 refuse to attend her and Mrs. Page, as she pro- 
 mised to bring us back, before the farce began, in 
 her own carriage. We accordingly set off together. 
 I was surprised at the number of gentlemen o 
 came into our box, and laughed and chatted with 
 my two companions. I sat in the front seat, and 
 seldom took my eyes off the stage. At last, a deep, 
 sonorous, well-modulated voice, struck upon my 
 ear. I turned to view the person from whom it 
 proceeded, and was both surprised and alarmed on 
 perceiving Colonel Douglas. I had often heard his 
 name mentioned, but always as connected with 
 some affair of gallantry. His conversation now 
 surprised me, as containing a stronger mixture of 
 good sense, and discovering more marks of deep 
 thinking. When the play was finished, he led us 
 to our carriage. A young gentleman present offer- 
 ed me his hand, which I accepted, and I saw the 
 colonel appeared piqued. I had an opportunity of 
 viewing this gentleman. He was tall and muscu- 
 lar, and about forty years of age. His eyes were 
 dark, quick, and penetrating ; his wiskers and eye- 
 brows large, black, and bushy. In short, I had 
 never seen a man that had impressed me so power- 
 fully, except the chief of the Italian banditti. I 
 now dreaded lest Lady Warrenford might have 
 engaged to betray me into his power ; nor could I 
 place such reliance upon Mrs. Page, after what had 
 occurred. I therefore tried to excuse myself from 
 dining with her ladyship next day ; but being as- 
 sured that no strangers would be present at a mere 
 family dinner, I consented. 
 
302 rosina; or, 
 
 Next day, Mrs. Page and I set off to Lord War- 
 renford's. The house seemed large and splendid. 
 When the dinner hour arrived, a tall athletic figure 
 entered the room. He saluted Mrs. Page without 
 ceremony ; and, when introduced to me, I was 
 honoured with a broad stare. ‘ And this vulgar 
 and impertinent fellow,’ thought I, ‘ is Lord War- 
 renford !’ During dinner, he talked almost inces- 
 santly. He told us of the feats and pedigree of a 
 mare he had just purchased, described his favour- 
 ite greyhound, cursed the poachers, and informed 
 us how he and Jack Noble, with Tom Dixon, had 
 served a gang who were poaching in Noble’s wood. 
 These his companions he dignified by the appella- 
 tion of ‘jolly dogs,’ and ‘ devilish hearty fellows,’ 
 from whom he had won a thousand pounds the last 
 season. I was weary of this vulgarity and non- 
 sense, and longed for the time when I could escape 
 from this accomplished English gentleman. 
 
 Soon the Duke of Beaufort entered. On seeing 
 me, he expressed his surprise and pleasure in warm 
 terms ; but his eulogiums were interrupted by the 
 appearance of Colonel Douglas, whose attentions 
 were incessant. I behaved to both with unaffected 
 civility, but with great reserve. Cards were pro- 
 posed ; but I pleaded illness, which was true, and 
 begged to retire. The duke watched all my mo- 
 tions ; but I eluded his vigilance, and drove home, 
 without taking formal leave. 
 
 I had received no news lately respecting Leming- 
 ton. The sight of the Duke of Beaufort brought 
 fresh into my mind the mental suffering I had en- 
 dured from the fond jealousy of my lover. I felt 
 apprehensive that the company I was then in, as 
 well as some former incidents, might be converted 
 by my enemies into charges pregnant with suspi- 
 cious results, and I resolved to redouble my cir- 
 cumspection. 
 
 During two days, I spent my time in calculating 
 how long time the Earl of Lemington would pro- 
 bably require to finish his business, in what time a 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 303 
 
 passage home might he effected, and under what 
 circumstances our happy meeting would occur. X 
 had also received a letter from Captain Ross, stating 
 that he would leave Aberdeen in about ten days, 
 and requesting to know if I had heard from 
 America. 
 
 The next morning, Lady Warrenford called. She 
 was dressed in a style of great splendour, and 
 pressed us to accompany her to see a fine painting 
 of Christ entering into Jerusalem, which was ex- 
 hibiting in the Strand. Mrs. Page joyfully accept- 
 ed this invitation; and I acceded. We examined 
 the painting at our leisure. Lady Warrenford 
 conducted herself with great courtesy towards me, 
 and twice repressed the levity in which Mrs. Page 
 was indulging. 4 1 am going,’ said her ladyship 
 to me, 4 to take a peep at the sale of the effects of 
 the late Lopez, the rich jeweller, in St. James’ 
 street, after which, we will take dinner together. I 
 am sorry that the rudeness of Lord Warrenford 
 should have been so annoying the last time you 
 honoured me with your company ; but we «hall 
 not be exposed to-day to any disagreeable inva- 
 sions. Come, my friend, I want your advice on a 
 matter of some importance to myself.’ And she 
 walked off to her carriage. I felt rather vexed ; 
 but there was no time for remonstrance, so Mrs. 
 Page ordered our coachman to follow the carriage 
 of Lady Warrenford. 
 
 The sale-room was filled with people of rank and 
 fashion. Many very expensive articles were sold 
 at high prices. In a short time we were joined by 
 Colonel Douglas. I answered his bow very coldly. 
 4 Ah ! how lucky, colonel !’ cried Mrs. Page. * You 
 . are the very gentleman I wished to see ; for I am 
 so poor that I expect you will treat me, and shall 
 insist upon having whatever I may fancy.’ Lady 
 Warrenford bid for many articles, and Mrs. Page 
 for a few. They both called upon the colonel to 
 pay their prices. He purchased a handsome 
 diamond cross, which the ladies viewed with de- 
 
314 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 sire ; and he put it into his pocket. In a few mi« 
 nutes afterwards, while the ladies were examining 
 an article, he turned round, and offered me the 
 diamond cross, w T hich he said he had purchased for 
 my use ; but I refused his present with displeasure. 
 
 At length, we left the sale-room, and the colonel 
 conducted me to our carriage ; but while I was 
 waiting for Mrs. Page, she came and said, 4 Colonel, 
 I shall for once trust you with this lady, as Lady 
 Warrenford wishes me to go into her carriage.’ I 
 was offended at this unwarrantable liberty ; but, 
 before I could answer, the colonel was seated by 
 my side, and congratulated himself on his good for- 
 tune. 
 
 The carriage instantly drove forwards. c Beau- 
 tiful angel,’ said the colonel, 4 how exquisitely love- 
 ly you are !’ Alarmed at this abruptness, I was 
 about to answer with severity ; but he continued, 
 4 1 know you will be offended ; but I cannot sacri- 
 fice my happiness to my fears. I first saw you 
 when you landed from France with Captain Boss. 
 I have ever since unnoticed followed your foot- 
 steps ; but the timidity of love restrained my pas- 
 sion. I also feared that the prejudices which have 
 been excited against me might operate to my dis- 
 advantage. Some part of common report is true ; 
 yet I flatter myself I am not wholly beyond a cure. 
 I have suffered for my errors ; and, if the gates of 
 reform be open, I will enter them.’ Here I inter- 
 rupted him by exclaiming, 4 Sir, I neither know, 
 nor desire to know, any thing respecting your 
 character.’ 
 
 But the colonel proceeded. 4 1 was uncontrolled 
 master of myself and my estates at the age of 
 twenty-two ; and I had no wise friend to direct my 
 footsteps. Pleasure opened all her alluring stores ; 
 and I was fascinated by the blandishments of the 
 enchantress, and preferred the intoxicating joys of 
 love and wine to self-denial. The choice, though 
 unwise, was natural. But what is your opinion ?’ 
 
 4 1 have no opinion on the subject,’ I replied. — 4 1 
 
The virtuous country maid. 
 
 r,05 
 
 confess,’ said he, ‘that the subject is abrupt.’ — 
 
 ‘ And very impertinent, sir,’ said I. ‘ I must re- 
 quest that you will say no more.’ — ‘ Loveliest of 
 women, why this contempt V exclaimed he. — ‘ Sir, 
 if you proceed in this manner,’ said I, in anger, ‘ I 
 must order the coachman to stop. Why should I 
 be insulted with your disgusting impertinence?’ — 
 
 ‘ Oh ! you have a lofty spirit,’ said he, with assur- 
 ance ; ‘ but it really is of advantage to your beauty. 
 I think you never looked so killing.’ I now drew 
 myself up in the attitude of offended dignity, 
 and suffered this libertine to proceed without inter- 
 ruption. Then he dropped his rudeness, and be- 
 gan fawning ; but I was invulnerable to both spe- 
 cies of attack. 
 
 We arrived at Lady Warrenford’s at the hour of 
 dinner. There were no strangers except Colonel 
 Douglas ; and he then behaved with politeness and 
 respect towards me. I was silent and offended ; 
 but Lady Warrenford appeared not to notice it, 
 and Mrs. Page rattled away in her usual style. 
 
 After dinner, the Colonel took his leave, pretend- 
 ing that he had an indispensable engagement. Mrs. 
 Page left the room. She was absent half an hour 
 conversing with the colonel, and my vexation in- 
 creased. When she returned, I insisted upon or- 
 dering the carriage, to which she assented. Lady 
 Warrenford did not make the least attempt to de- 
 tain us. 
 
 When seated in the carriage, I said, severely, 
 ‘ Mrs. Page, I thought that Sir Henry Cleveland’s 
 affair would have deterred you from entering into 
 any new plot, for the purpose of ruining a young 
 person whom your sister enjoined you to protect.’ 
 — ‘ How unreasonable you are, my dear!’ replied 
 she. ‘ If you are so beautiful as to make all the 
 gentlemen run mad that see you, am I to be 
 blamed ? Now you have captivated the heart of 
 Colonel Douglas ; and I am to be held criminal, 
 because I have not prevented it from taking place.’ 
 
 4 1 do not wish to hear this nerson mentioned/ 
 
 T 
 
308 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 said I, * I desire to know nothing about him* — 
 4 Nay, you must not despise your conquest,’ said 
 she, 4 for Douglas is one of a thousand. None of 
 your stingy wishy-washy fellows, like that miser- 
 able poltroon, Sir Harry ; but a gentleman of gen- 
 erosity and spirit, who fears the face of no man, 
 and of no woman either. He has clear estates of 
 eleven thousand per annum, exclusive of his pay ; 
 and I never heard he had any other fault than that 
 of being a terrible rake.’ 
 
 4 I aspire not to such a distinction,’ said I. — 4 Poor 
 innocent,’ replied Mrs. Page, playfully, 4 how you 
 detest a gallant red-coat ! But you will never 
 make your fortune at this rate. Only reflect upon 
 your folly in refusing that beautiful diamond cross. 
 I would as soon take a present from a man I hate 
 as from a man I love. Oh I I can show you lots of 
 presents when I get them from the pawnbroker’s, 
 which I received from one blockhead or another. 
 Lord bless me! child, I never cared how many 
 lovers I had, for I knew that none of them could 
 become my husband without my own consent. 
 
 4 1 am sure you are perfectly welcome to it,’ said 
 I. — 4 You mistake,’ replied she, 4 I have taken it 
 only under the condition of keeping it until I pre- 
 vail upon you to accept it.’ — ‘ Then you may con- 
 sider it as your own.’ — 4 Well, I do not believe 
 that,’ said Mrs-. Page, 4 for the colonel is not so very 
 abominable. The wretch, to be sure, is very posi- 
 tive, and will have his own way ; but a woman 
 might easily bring down his proud spirit.’ 
 
 When we arrived at home, a servant informed 
 me that a gentleman was waiting. I went into the 
 parlour, where I found my good friend, the clergy- 
 man. He appeared very grave, and to have his 
 mind occupied by some subject of importance. He 
 looked at me with a searching eye, and then said, 
 4 Will you pardon me if I address you as an advi- 
 ser F If you value the opinion of the world, give 
 it no opportunity of fixing upon you as the object 
 of its scandal.’— 4 What do you mean, sir F’ said I 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 30 T 
 
 alarmed. — ‘ 1 mean,’ rejoined he, ‘ that there is so- 
 ciety of such reputed profligacy, that it is almost 
 the loss of reputation to be seen with them.’— ‘ For 
 heaven’s sake, sir,’ said I, ‘explain yourself.’— ‘ I 
 mean, then, that profligate, Colonel Douglas. Why 
 did you appear with him alone in the park, and 
 driving round the ring ?’ — ‘ I am ignorant, sir, of 
 having been driven round the ring ; but Lady War- 
 renford and Mrs. Page were immediately behind 
 us.’ — ‘ You are mistaken, my friend,’ said he ; ‘ you 
 were alone when I saw you in the park.’ 
 
 I quickly saw the trick that had been played off 
 upon me. The colonel, taking advantage of my 
 agitation, and ignorance of the town, had adopted 
 this stratagem of lengthening his opportunity. 
 ‘ But you mention Lady Warrenford,’ said he, ‘ I 
 hope you have no connexion with that woman ?’ I 
 then related how my acquaintance with her lady- 
 ship had commenced, with all my doubts and reso- 
 lutions on the subject. He said, ‘ I see through 
 the whole plot. Lady Warrenford and Mrs. Page 
 are both engaged to promote the colonel’s intrigues. 
 I fear the poor family you mention will profit little 
 from their benevolence. But avoid this Lady 
 Warrenford. She is a dangerous woman, of bad 
 character. Her husband’s intellects are below par ; 
 and he can witness his dishonour with stupid indif- 
 ference. His property has long ago been either 
 sold or deeply mortgaged ; and he now lives in the 
 country, with such sporting gentlemen as can bear 
 his vulgarity ; while his lady leads a life of undis- 
 guised dissipation in town. She supplies the want 
 of a fortune by the privileges of her peerage, and 
 keeps her house open as a general rendezvous of 
 the most distinguished gamesters, who support her 
 splendour by a subscription purse.’ 
 
 At this explanation, I was ready to sink with 
 shame. The delicacy and nice sense of propriety 
 always evinced by the Earl of Lemington might 
 receive a shock, were he to hear of the disgraceful 
 company in which I had openly appeared. 
 
308 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 My reverend friend, seeing my affliction, now 
 tried to comfort me. He again warned me to be- 
 ware .of the colonel. ‘I know him well,’ said he; 
 ‘ and to the rake he adds a peculiar atrocity, pecu- 
 liar to the ruffian. If seduction does not suc- 
 ceed, he scruples not to use force. It is not for a 
 little, he knows, that a modest woman would un- 
 dergo the interrogatories of a public court ; and he 
 boasts of the policy in warfare of givingthe enemy 
 an excuse to surrender.’ After much good advice, 
 this kind friend took his leave. 
 
 Being anxious to know what my new acquaint- 
 ances had done for the poor orphan family, I re- 
 solved to satisfy myself after dark, for I durst not 
 go out during the day, lest the colonel should be 
 upon the watch. After tea, I walked to the Seven 
 Dials. The poor woman was glad to see me. She 
 said that the fine lady had called with a grand gen- 
 tleman, covered with lace ; that she had ordered 
 her own grocer to supply her with the little things 
 she would want in her shop ; and that she had 
 taken away Nelly, her eldest daughter, whom she 
 had promised to make a lady of. I was pleased to 
 see the poor widow so happy, and perhaps I had 
 judged too uncharitably of Lady Warrenford and 
 her friends. 
 
 I was walking home, thus musing, when I espied 
 a woman stretched upon the steps of a large unin- 
 habited house. The night was dark, and a drizz- 
 ling rain was falling. I stopped, and, by the light 
 of a lamp, perceived a white, delicately-formed arm, 
 lying over the foot-scraper. I lifted this cold arm, 
 but it fell down lifeless. I raised her bonnet ; but 
 her eyes were shut, and I concluded, from the 
 paleness of her lips, that she was either dead or 
 dying. I requested a person to call a hackney- 
 coach. He readily obeyed, and a coach drove up. 
 
 ‘ Pray,’ said I, ‘ help this poor creature into your 
 coach.’ The man obeyed, and we lifted what 
 seemed to be a lifeless form into the coach. He 
 then inouired who would pay his fare. I stepped 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATD. 
 
 m 
 
 into the coach, saying, ‘ I will pay you.’ — ‘ Whore 
 am I to drive, madam P’ demanded the fellow. ‘ To 
 any of the hospitals ?’ continued the coachman, ‘ or 
 to the nearest workhouse ?’ The woman at this 
 moment opened her eyes, and sighed convulsively. 
 ‘No,’ said I, ‘ she appears not accustomed either to 
 hospitals or workhouses. 1 — ‘ Search her pockets, 
 mistress, 1 added the coachman ; ‘ perhaps you will 
 find something that may tell you who she is, and 
 some money to pay her fare.’ ‘Drive on, 1 said I. 
 ‘ Did I not say that I would satisfy your demands P* 
 — ‘ That’s enough, madam. Shall I drive straight 
 on ?’ Then I recollected that the surgeon where 
 my aunt had lived was a humane man, and very 
 moderate in his charges. My aunt’s cure had been 
 completed ; but. as confinement had rendered her 
 sickly j I had sent her down to my father’s, to see 
 her friends and recruit her health. Her room was 
 empty, and in it I determined to place this distress- 
 ed stranger. 
 
 The woman gradually recovered ; and, by the 
 light of the shop-lamps, I saw that her eyes were 
 peculiarly soft and beautiful. Her countenance, 
 her air, her shape, were above the common model. 
 She was scarcely, except in the tallness of her per- 
 son, arrived at womanhood. Her age could not be 
 more than seventeen. As she returned to con- 
 sciousness, she muttered, ‘ Ah ! where am IP’ 1 
 tried to comfort the poor creature ; but she seemed 
 absorbed in grief and despair. At last she cried, 
 ‘ Oh ! madam, why have you recalled me to life 
 and to misery ? My heart would soon have ceased 
 to beat, if you had not interfered. 1 
 
 At this moment the coach stopped, and I whis- 
 pered to the disconsolate mourner, ‘ Here we alight. 
 You will experience nothing but tenderness, and I 
 will nurse you as a sister. 1 ‘ Oh ! madam, 1 con- 
 tinued she, ‘ if you possess the feelings of humanity, 
 suffer me to leave you here. I atn too miserable to 
 exist; nor will I live subjected to the scorn of 
 those by whom I was once beloved. 
 
310 rosika;oh, 
 
 ‘ Fear nothing,’ said I. ‘ You shall not return 
 to your friends except you please. I too have suf- 
 fered, and can sympathize with you ; and, if I mis- 
 take not, you are more sinned against than sinning. 
 I will try to comfort you, and to screen you from 
 the disgrace you apprehend,’ 
 
 The coach stopped* I helped out the feeble girl, 
 and, slipping half-a-crown into the coachman’s 
 hand, led her into the house. Show us into Peggy’s 
 room,’ said I to the servant ; and when I had 
 placed the stranger in an easy chair, I stepped into 
 the parlour, and explained to the surgeon how I 
 had brought a stranger for shelter and relief. The 
 good man starting up, accompanied me to the 
 stranger’s room. By his skill and assistance, she 
 was soon revived. She wished to speak, but the 
 servant enjoined silence and quiet ; and we left her 
 to repose. He then accompanied me to the door 
 of our house ; and, though I had got cold by wet 
 and exposure to the weather, yet I never lay down 
 with a more satisfied mind. 
 
 Next morning, I hastened to see the unfortunate 
 girl. Her improved appearance excited my sur- 
 prise. I had seldom seen such grace united with 
 natural beauty. She received me with tears of 
 gratitude. ‘ You have saved me, madam,’ said she, 
 ‘ from committing a great crime. When snatched 
 by you from a state of exhaustion, I was crawling 
 towards the Thames, to terminate my existence. 
 This was a presumptuous sin ; but I was crushed 
 with grief, and durst not lift my head in hope. 
 This kind gentleman, turning to the surgeon, ‘ has 
 taught me to think aright ; and, if you will allow 
 me, I will relate the circumstances which have 
 deprived me of my innocency,~~which, to a wo- 
 man, is her crown of glory. 
 
 ANN KERR’S BRIEF RELATION. 
 
 ‘ My father, David Kerr, was a farmer near the 
 Tweedside, twelve miles west from Berwick. By 
 his skill and industry he saved a little money, with 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 311 
 
 VsOhich he purchased a small estate at Korham, 
 worth about twenty-five pounds a year. This, 
 with a farm of about two hundred and fifty pounds 
 more, made a very ample income for him. I was 
 his only daughter. 
 
 ‘ My mother, at the time of her marriage, was 
 housekeeper in the Earl of Roxburgh's family. 
 Our farm-house was the neatest in the neighbour- 
 hood, and our victuals were the best cooked. W e 
 never sent butter to the market, it being all sold to 
 gentlemen in the neighbourhood, who admired my 
 mother’s skill in the dairy. An elderly maiden 
 lady engaged our spare apartments. I soon be- 
 came her favourite; and she instructed me in 
 French, drawing, and music. I also read all the 
 novels in her library, and thus acquired a tolerable 
 education. My benefactress died in my sixteenth 
 year, leaving me five hundred pounds. But I had 
 a severer loss, the death of my affectionate mother, 
 six months afterwards. 
 
 ‘ My father was consoled by the hope that I 
 would, in a great measure, supply my mother’s 
 loss, and smooth the evening of his days. In a few 
 months we were informed that our landlord was 
 about visiting his estates in Berwickshire, which 
 he had not seen since he became the proprietor 
 Nothing else was talked of but the appearance of 
 the Honourable Colonel Douglas.’ — ‘ Who ?’ ex- 
 claimed I ; but apologizing for the interruption, I 
 requested her to proceed. 
 
 ‘ Yes, madam, this gentleman is the second son 
 of a peer ; but an aunt dying shortly after he came 
 to age, all her valuable property devolved to him. 
 He had served with honour in the German war, 
 and at the battle of Min den, took a standard from 
 a strong party of French horsemen, which he car- 
 ried off with the assistance of only a few brave 
 men. His daring feats were a favourite topic of 
 conversation in our neighbourhood. He was, in 
 my imagination an unparalleled hero, and the most 
 honourable of all the descendants of that flower of 
 
312 eosina; oh, 
 
 chivalry, the Earl of Douglas, who fell at Ottei 
 bum. 
 
 4 At length, the colonel called at our farm ; and 1 
 was forcibly struck with his military figure and 
 manners, and could not avoid wishing that I had 
 such a husband. I was flattered to observe that he 
 seemed pleased with my person, and that he called 
 frequently at our house under various pretexts, 
 when his eyes were always rivetted upon me. 
 
 4 My father excelled in the knowledge of agricul- 
 ture. He understood the breeding of stock and 
 the value of land, and was proud of being often 
 consulted respecting the new modes of husbandry 
 that were introduced on Tweedside. The colonel 
 soon discovered this ambition, which he highly 
 flattered. Not a day passed but he called to ask 
 my father’s advice, upon the proper rotation of 
 crops upon lands of different soils ; and he never 
 took his leave without lavishing compliments upon 
 his tenant. In return, the good unsuspecting man 
 was loud and ardent in his praises of our landlord. 
 I saw that the colonel’s fondness for me formed a 
 chief motive in his frequent visits to our house ; 
 but he artfully avoided making any declaration of 
 his sentiments to me. The word love never escaped 
 his lips ; and I began to fear that I had deceived 
 myself, and was not so beloved as I imagined. 
 
 ‘ Douglas at length saw that the time was come 
 when he might unmask his designs. In our part 
 of the country, the season of harvest is the season 
 of joy and gladness. Alas ! how do I regret our 
 rustic pleasure ; when the kirn-baby, or harvest- 
 queen, was borne in triumph and exultation by the 
 labourers — when the fields and woods re-echoed 
 with the harvest home — and the cheerful horn of 
 ale rewarded the last labour of the reapers ! 
 
 4 Though regret now can avail me nothing, yet I 
 cannot banish the remembrance of bliss. It was at 
 the close of our harvest, when our neighbours, our 
 servants, and our hired reapers, had assembled to 
 make merry, that the colonel rode up to the door 9 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID, 313 
 
 and, hearing the sound of music, he alighted and 
 joined the joyful group, and endeavoured to pro- 
 mote their mirth. He also invited me to join tho 
 happy dancers, and honoured me with his hand in 
 two or three dances. When the sport was at its 
 height, he whispered me that he must breathe the 
 pure air for a few moments, and insensibly led me 
 into our stack-yard. 
 
 * * How lovely is the night !’ said he ; ‘ would to 
 heaven I was happy enough to enjoy it!’ — ‘Are 
 you not happy?’ inquired I. — ‘No,’ replied he, 
 ‘ and cursed be the prej udices of the world, which 
 makes me miserable ! Cursed be those laws that 
 dash the cup of happiness from the lips of the un- 
 fortunate ! No,’ continued he, with wild abrupt- 
 ness, ‘ blessed — for ever blessed be that matchless 
 beauty, that lovely innocence, that has captivated 
 my heart. On which he threw his arms suddenly 
 around me, and clasped me ardently to his bosom. 
 ‘ Pardon me,’ he then cried, releasing me; ‘ do par- 
 don me, for I know not what I do.’ 
 
 ‘By thus exhibiting all the vehemence of the 
 most intense love, he drew from me the confession 
 that I loved him ; and I know not how far his im- 
 portunities might have been carried, had not my 
 father called me to prepare supper.’ ‘ Say nothing 
 to your father,’ said he, ‘ I have a long and a 
 sorrowful tale to unfold to you. I will prove 
 the sincerity of my love in a maimer that Will as- 
 tonish the inhabitants of England and Scotland. 
 In a little, I will raise you from this paltry thatch- 
 ed house, to ride in your carriage, and to excite the 
 admiration of all the nobility and gentry in Edin- 
 burgh and in London.’ 
 
 ‘ After supper, the colonel took his leave. The 
 music and the dancing were renewed ; but to me 
 the rude, hearty mirth of the company had become 
 wearisome, and I was glad when the feast was ter- 
 minated. I retired this night to rest, but not to 
 sleep. I had drunk deep of the insidious poison. 
 ‘ W hat could the colonel mean?’ I asked myself. 
 
814 rosina; or, 
 
 ‘ What renders him unhappy T But these perplex* 
 ing doubts were succeeded by pleasing dreams of 
 the honours that awaited me. I thought of the 
 surprise and happiness which my father would 
 feel, and of the envy of all my young acquaint- 
 ances at my unexpected good fortune. 
 
 ‘ It would be endless to recount the various 
 means which Colonel Douglas adopted to confirm 
 the impression he had made upon my heart. One 
 was a master-stroke of policy. My father’s lease 
 was nearly expired ; but, confident of its renewal, 
 from the friendship of his landlord, he gave him- 
 self no concern on the subject. But hearing a 
 rumour respecting the disposal of his farm, he rode 
 over to see the colonel. He was from home ; but 
 the steward informed my father that the colonel 
 had promised the farm, before he had left London, 
 to the brother of a merchant in Berwick, for which 
 borough his master was resolved to stand at the 
 next election. Highly irritated, my father pro- 
 ceeded to Kelso, where the colonel had gone ; but 
 he met him at Coldstream returning. An explana- 
 tion took place. ‘ A gentleman cannot forfeit his 
 word of honour.’ This was the excuse ; and my 
 father with a heavy heart, returned home. 
 
 ‘ ‘ My dear Ann,’ replied my father to my inqui- 
 ries, ‘ we must leave our farm. The ground which 
 I have so long tilled, and my father before me, I 
 must quit. In this house I was born, and here you 
 first saw the light. I considered it as my paternal 
 lot ; yet we must now prepare to bid it, and all the 
 surrounding scenes, a lasting farewell. The colo- 
 nel’s constant kindness to me has made this blow 
 doubly severe, for I did not expect it. 
 
 ‘ I was grieved at seeing the melancholy of my 
 father. He had not looked around him for another 
 situation, and now he seemed incapable of exertion. 
 Two days were passed in this state of silent grief ; 
 when I mounted my galloway, and rode off to try 
 my influence with the colonel. 
 
 1 1 had scarcely hinted at the nature of my appli- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 315 
 
 ention, when the colonel said, ‘ Yes, dearest Ann, 
 that rash promise has cost me many a bitter pang. 
 My honour I will never sully; but then I have dis- 
 covered how to preserve my word, and yet gratify 
 one dearer to me than life. All that I have will 
 Boon be yours ; but I have ordered my steward to 
 transfer the land your father occupies to you, as a 
 small part of your jointure. The writings cannot 
 be ready for a few weeks ; but, as I have in my in- 
 structions resigned all my claim to the land, it is, 
 of course, yours, and it is out of my power to grant 
 it to any one. Return, therefore, my dearest an* 
 gel, and request your father to apply again to my 
 stewaid; and, to gratify the worthy man, I will 
 direct a lease to be made out for twenty-one years. 
 He then led me to where workmen were em- 
 ployed in repairing his house, observing that no 
 expense should be spared to render it a fit habita- 
 tion for so much virtue and beauty. All now was 
 again hope and happiness, and every thing smiled 
 around us. Our landlord renewed his visits, and 
 nothing was neglected by the most artful seducer. 
 
 4 A neighbouring farmer, who had a large family 
 of children, fell into a state of melancholy, imagin- 
 ing that he was predestinated to eternal perdition. 
 He neglected his farm, and his friends were com* 
 pelled to send him to a lunatic asylum. The colo- 
 nel’s steward seized his effects for the arrears due ; 
 but the farmer’s brother came from Wooler, and, 
 after investigating the state of affairs, expressed 
 his conviction that all might be retrieved if a little 
 time was granted. The schoolmaster drew up a 
 petition ; and as the neighbours had observed that 
 I was a favourite with the landlord, I was entreat- 
 ed to present it. Pity for the poor family, and 
 curiosity to know why the colonel had been four 
 days absent, determined me to accept the commission 
 
 ‘ A servant informed me that his master was in- 
 disposed ; but, on sending up my name, I was ad- 
 mitted. The colonel was sitting in his morning 
 gown, and looked pale and desponding. Oh! how 
 
815 rosina; or, 
 
 I wished to nurse and comfort him, and to raise h:9 
 tine playful spirits. I told my tale, and presented 
 the petition. He then wrote a line or two on a 
 scrap of paper, and rung the bell for a servant, 
 whom he ordered to carry the note to his steward. 
 Then he said, ‘ All is done as you wish; and before 
 your return, the officers will have quitted the pre- 
 mises. There is a twenty pound note, which may 
 enable the poor woman and her worthy brother- 
 in-law to resume the work of the farm.’ I was 
 enraptured with so much generosity, and rose to 
 return him my thanks. Then gazing upon me 
 ardently, he ejaculated, ‘What a heavenly crea- 
 ture ! And must I die, and resign her to the arms 
 of some rude brute ?’ Though this was whispered 
 to himself, yet I catched the alarming sounds. 
 ‘ Are you not well colonel ?’ inquired I. 
 
 ‘ ‘ !No, my angel, I am ill, very ill,’ replied he. 
 ‘ My heart is bursting with grief. Only place your 
 hand there, and feel the violent palpitation and 
 he pressed my hand to his breast. ‘ I feel my end 
 approaching, continued he ; ‘ but before I die, I 
 will leave you some tokens of my love. Some 
 months ago, I was introduced to a young lady, the 
 only daughter of a distinguished duke. She is a 
 rich heiress. Though a cold, selfish, frivolous wo- 
 man, she conceived a strong partiality for me. My 
 friends were importunate that I should seize the 
 golden prize ; and, though my heart was unaffect- 
 ed, I consented. The marriage articles were drawn 
 out before I came into the north ; but when I saw 
 your lovely form, I swore that I would never ex- 
 ecute them. One of the ministers promised to raise 
 me to the peerage before my marriage. I have 
 been lately urging him to perform his promise, 
 when I would endeavour to offend the lady who 
 wishes to enslave me, and thus to be dismissed. 
 But my powerful feelings, are so uncontrollable, 
 that every hour seems a day. I cannot survive 
 such long delays. Whilst your indifference, I had 
 almost said your hatred wrings my very heart.’ 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAtU. 317 
 
 * ‘ I hate you !’ said I : ‘ It is impossible. I can- 
 not hate you.’ — ‘ This is the language of your 
 tongue/ replied he ; ‘ hut the cold indifference of 
 your conduct demonstrates the contrary.’ But I 
 need not dwell on the crime and horrors of that 
 evening. I became the victim of seduction. Even 
 at that time I felt some dreadful forebodings ; but 
 the colonel threw himself upon his knees before me, 
 and invoked the vengeance of heaven upon his 
 head unless he fulfilled his vows. ‘ Yes, my dear-* 
 est Ann, though not sanctioned by the forms of the 
 church, I consider you as my lawful wife ; and I 
 shall hasten to proclaim our union to the world, the 
 moment I am freed from the disgusting engage- 
 ments in which I am involved.’ 
 
 ‘ I believed my betrayer, and looked upon myself 
 as his wife. I loved him most affectionately, and 
 was never happy but when in his company, or lis- 
 tening to the conversations of my father and his 
 neighbours respecting my dear husband’s gener- 
 osity. At last, I found myself pregnant ; but the 
 colonel consoled me by assurances that in a few 
 weeks he should lead me to the altar. 
 
 ‘ At this period, Lieutenant David Patterson, a 
 cousin of mine, came from Leith, where his vessel 
 lay, to visit my father. This noble youth was 
 highly esteemed by my father, and, before I had 
 seen the colonel, had been most distinguished by 
 my favour. He had visited us about a year be- 
 fore, when we had exchanged tokens of love. His 
 appearance now, to remind me of my former vows 
 of constancy, troubled me ; but a sense of my situa- 
 tion led me to dissemble my feelings. Indeed, my 
 clandestine meetings with the colonel had initiated 
 me in duplicity, so that I found no difficulty in 
 treating my cousin with apparent kindness. 
 
 ‘ Douglas still loved me, and remonstrated on the 
 uneasiness he suffered at the constant assiduities 
 of my cousin. I threw myself into his arms, and, 
 with tears, implored him to save me from infamy. 
 He was moved, and begged of me to meet him on 
 
318 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 the morrow evening, near the village of Swinton. 
 I attended at the hour appointed, when I found 
 him waiting with a chaise, into which I entered, 
 and we drove to Coldstream. From this place we 
 posted to London, and halted at the Colonel’s town 
 house. The splendour of the furniture, the respect 
 with which I was treated by the servants, and the 
 fondness of the man I loved so dearly, all contri- 
 buted to lull me into a state of false security. 
 
 ‘ As we saw no company, Colonel Douglas fre- 
 quently drove me out into the country. One day, 
 our horse, a young spirited animal, took fright, 
 and galloped along the road with the utmost fury ; 
 and the vehicle was dashed with violence against a 
 gate-post. I recollected nothing more, until I 
 found myself in a neat bed-chamber, and the colo- 
 nel sitting by my side. He beckoned me to be si- 
 lent ; and, going out, a doctor entered. In conse- 
 quence of the fright, I had miscarried ; and it was 
 three weeks before I could be safely removed from 
 the farm-house into which I had been taken. The 
 constant attentions of the colonel had increased my 
 high opinion of his character and sincerity ; and I 
 soon relapsed into the former scene of gaiety and 
 thoughtlessness. 
 
 * One night, we went to the theatre. I was 
 handsomely dressed, and felt vain of my personal 
 charms, which seemed to have been softened and 
 increased by my late confinement. The colonel 
 had bespoke front places in the dress-boxes. Ex- 
 cept our places, which had been reserved, the box 
 was full when we entered. I was handed to my 
 seat; but was scarcely seated before the whole 
 party, consisting of six ladies and two gentlemen, 
 rose and left the box. I looked at the colonel for 
 an explanation, and saw him knitting his brows 
 with vexation. At this moment, the box-keeper 
 entered, and whispered to the colonel, loud enough 
 for me to hear, that the company had felt insulted 
 by the introduction of a kept mistress amongst 
 them, and that it was necessary that I should with- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAII>. 319 
 
 draw. The colonel answered by collaring the fel- 
 low, and kicking him out of the box, in sight of the 
 whole house, which joined in assailing us with the 
 most opprobrious epithets. He seemed inclined to 
 brave their anger; but I begged leave to retire, 
 and was followed by loud hisses and yells. On 
 setting me down, at home, he hastened back to the 
 theatre, to show his contempt for those that had in- 
 sulted him. On entering the passage, I felt so ill 
 that I leaned against a pillar for support. Find- 
 ing my hand hastily snatched, I beheld my father, 
 who exclaimed, ‘ Oh! Ann, Ann, God forgive thee !' 
 and instantly darted out at the door. I sunk down, 
 and did not recover until I was carried into my 
 own chamber. 
 
 ‘ The colonel was late of returning, and was rest- 
 less and uneasy during the night. I related my 
 father’s strange appearance ; when he solemnly 
 assured me that two days should not elapse before 
 he would fulfil his promise. In the morning, after 
 taking a very affectionate leave of me, he promised 
 to return to breakfast. ‘Breakfast time passed 
 over, and noon arrived ; but the colonel never ap- 
 peared. About two o’clock in the afternoon I re- 
 ceived the following note : 
 
 ‘ * My dearest Ann, 
 
 “I returned to the theatre last night, burning with 
 impatience, to chastise some of those fellows that had in- 
 sulted you in such an unmanly way. A naval officer 
 viewed me with scorn. I in return, insulted him. We 
 met this morning-, and he fell. On inquiry, I find he is 
 your cousin. At present, I am on my road to Dover, 
 and will <Vait at Calais until I know whether Lieutenant 
 Patterson’s wound be mortal. Should he die, you must 
 join me in France until the affair blows over. Yours, 
 
 ‘ * James Douglas.* 
 
 ‘ This afflicting note overwhelmed me with grief. 
 My reflections were interrupted by a servant an- 
 nouncing that a gentleman desired to speak with 
 me. A well-dressed, elderly man entered, and 
 said, ‘ Your name, I believe, is Ann Kerr ?’ — 
 
320 eosina; or, 
 
 4 Douglas, if you please, sir, replied 1. The stran- 
 ger shook his head. 4 Poor, misguided girl,’ said 
 he, 4 I come to discharge a mournful task. I am 
 the minister who was chosen to succeed the late 
 pastor of your native parish. My first duty was to 
 mourn with an affectionate and deserted parent ; 
 hut all in vain. At length, in order to arouse him, 
 I proposed a journey to London, and offered to 
 assist him in reclaiming the deluded sinner. Yes^ 
 terday morning we arrived ; and your father slip- 
 ped out alone, and he accidentally saw you. In 
 returning, he met Douglas, whom he upbraided 
 for his wicked cruelty. The colonel answered him 
 with violent threats ; and about noon this day, he 
 arrested your father for his last half-year’s rent, 
 which he had neglected to pay, and had him drag- 
 ged to prison.’ 
 
 4 4 Now I know you speak falsely,’ interrupted I 
 wildly. 4 My dear Douglas is incapable of such 
 conduct. Besides, he could not arrest my father, 
 for he set off to France this very morning.’ 
 
 44 Ha! do not deceive yourself,’ rejoined the 
 stranger. 4 1 have just now left Colonel Douglas 
 at Lord Warrenford’s house, where I found him 
 gambling with a set of rich, worthless wretches, 
 who know not the end of their creation.’ 
 
 4 4 Oh ! my dear sir,’ exclaimed I, 4 where is my 
 father ? I shall fly to his relief.’ — 4 It is too late,* 
 said the stranger, with a solemn accent that froze 
 my blood. 4 Your father,’ continued he, pointing 
 above, 4 has gone to his father and his God. He is 
 beyond all human aid. He had scarcely entered 
 the prison, when he heard that your cousin, Lieu- 
 tenant Patterson, had been shot dead by Douglas. 
 Alas ! his honest heart burst, and he dropped down 
 dead in a fit of apoplexy. I accompanied my de- 
 parted friend to prison. On the road he said, 4 1 
 find that these repeated blows will kill me! but 
 you must bear to my dear child Ann my forgive- 
 ness.’ 
 
 4 1 heard no more. On recovering, I found my- 
 
tnE viirrtious country maid. "21 
 
 self supported by the kind stranger. My waiting- 
 maid was also trying to recover me. I passed the 
 •whole night in an agony of grief which surpasses 
 all imagination. I considered myself as a base out- 
 cast from society, and as the guilty murderer of 
 the most indulgent of parents. Peace of mind and 
 tranquil enjoyment seemed to be fled for ever, and 
 I therefore coolly and deliberately resolved upon 
 committing suicide. This horrid determination 
 tranquillized my mind so effectually, that I had 
 a few hour’s sleep. I arose, and dressed myself in 
 the same clothes that I wore w r hen I left my fa- 
 ther’s house ; and I prepared to leave a house 
 which had become detestable. In the morning 
 newspaper I read an account of the duel in which 
 the youthful Patterson had fallen. Here I learned 
 that his wound was not likely to prove mortal. 
 * Thank God,’ exclaimed I, ‘ here is one murder re- 
 moved from my guilty head.’ In a few minutes, a 
 stranger requested admittance on business of im- 
 portance, His business was a proposal from 
 JDouglas to give me a sum of money, and all fur- 
 ther communication to cease. I replied, with an 
 air of contempt, ‘ Go, sir, tell your friend that his 
 wish shall soon be satisfied.’ 
 
 ‘ My father had given me my mother’s ring, 
 •which the colonel affected to wear as a mark of his 
 regard for me, I determined to recover this pledge, 
 and to die with it. With this intention I repaired 
 to Lord Warrenford’s. The colonel had gone into 
 the country to hunt ; but he would return to dinner 
 at five o’clock. I went into St. James’ Park to 
 await this time. When the clock struck five, I 
 hurried to see the colonel. He received me w r ith 
 surprise. I upbraided him not — but simply asked 
 him for my ring. ‘ Ann,’ said he, ‘ I have seen 
 into my folly. You must return home. I will pay 
 for your passage in a Berwick smack.’ — ‘ Silence, 
 wretch !’ I exclaimed, ‘ return my ring.’ He grew 
 pale, and in alarm rung the bell. A servant enter- 
 ed, to whom he said, ‘ Joseph, see this insane crea- 
 
 U 
 
322 
 
 HO SIN A } OR, 
 
 tare out of the house. I know her not ; she must 
 have escaped from some lunatic asylum.’ I thrust 
 my hand into my pocket, but found no knife. I 
 looked wildly around for some instrument that 
 would kill my seducer ; I saw nothing ; but the 
 servant advancing to seize me, I sprung forward, 
 and seized Douglas by the throat. Other servants 
 entered, and I was dragged out, and led to the 
 corner of the square. This effort exhausted me ; 
 but still I thought I could walk to the Thames. On 
 the road I sunk down, where I was found and saved 
 by you, madam, whom I consider as an angel sent 
 from heaven. 5 
 
 The surgeon joined me in comforting the peni- 
 tent. He undertook to see her father decently in- 
 terred, and promised to write to a land-steward 
 whom he knew, to look after the farm, and dispose 
 of the stock. In short, he took an interest in poor 
 Miss Kerr’s affair that gratified and delighted me. 
 
 On my return home, Mrs. Page presented me 
 with a letter from Lady Beckford, in which she ex- 
 pressed her uneasiness in being so long from home, 
 but as her aged relative had now closed her earthly 
 career, she hoped to be in towm in a few days. 
 ‘ There,’ said Mrs. Page, ‘ you will now be gratified. 
 There will be nothing worn here, for a twelvemonth 
 to come, but grave looks, black crape, and bomba- 
 zines ; and no company but that of our ghostly 
 confessors. 5 
 
 The news of Lady Beckford’s speedy return de- 
 lighted me. I was sick of the follies of Mrs. Page. 
 My heart yearned towards my parents, whom I 
 wished to serve in their attempt to better their con- 
 dition ; and only the absence of my benefactress 
 prevented me from leaving the follies of fashion- 
 able life in town, to enjoy the sweet air of my na- 
 tive village. I now wrote to Peggy, to put the 
 apartment I had engaged in order, as I expected to 
 leave London in seven days. 
 
 Just then, a servant informed me that a poor 
 woman wished to speak to me. It was my widow- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID 323 
 
 ed pensioner from the Seven Dials, weeping bitter- 
 ly, ‘ Ah ! my sweet lady,’ cried she, ‘ I have lost 
 my dear Nelly, the pride of our family, and the ob- 
 ject of my hopes 1 But I have been a fool : I did 
 not ask your advice, who should know grand folks 
 better than I do ; and I saw you did not approve 
 of my rashness.’ — ‘ Nelly,’ said I, ‘ your eldest 
 daughter, whom you placed under Lady Warren- 
 ford’s care, She is not dead, I hope ?’— ‘ No, ma- 
 dam.’ replied she, ‘ she is not dead ; but if I cannot 
 get her back again, I hope she will soon die : for 
 what is life without a good name ? And I hear 
 that Lady Warrenford is a very vile woman, and 
 that my dear Nelly will soon become as bad as a 
 prostitute by her wicked lessons. Oh ! do save her 
 from ruin, my kind angel, and I will ever pray for 
 your prosperity.’— 1 ' Go home, my good woman,’ 
 replied I. ‘ You shall hear from me soon ; and, de- 
 pend upon it, I will not close my eyes in sleep un- 
 til I have made an effort to recover your daughter.’ 
 
 I immediately stepped to the neighbouring police- 
 office, and handed a note to the justice whom I had 
 seen before on the necklace-affair, desiring a pri- 
 vate audience. The old gentleman led me into his 
 private room, where I stated the poor woman’s 
 case. The justice regretted his want of power to 
 interfere, but strongly recommended the adoption 
 of some means to recover the girl, when he would 
 render his assistance, if necessary, in protecting 
 her from any attempts to take her back to her lady- 
 ship’ s house. I thanked him, but retired rather 
 mortified at the failure of my scheme. 
 
 After dinner, the Duke of Beaufort called in his 
 carriage. He brought me a note from the Earl of 
 Glenford, who anounced his gradual recovery, and 
 expressed his impatience to see me. His grace 
 asked me if I would accompany him that evening to 
 Lady Warrenford’s route. I had resolved to avoid the 
 house and company of this woman ; yet I now ac- 
 cepted the duke’s invitation. In the confusion of 
 the route, I hoped to find, and carry off the poor wo- 
 
321 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 man’s daughter; and I hoped to meet Colonel 
 Douglas, and demand Ann Kerr’s ring, in such a 
 manner as must sink him to the earth with shame, 
 and save me from his importunities. My resolution 
 in this case, was virtuous ; but the means were im- 
 properly chosen. We should never tread the paths 
 of danger, when the open high road lies before us.’ 
 
 At tea Mrs. Page appeared tricked out in the 
 gaudiest manner. ‘ I have the pleasure,’ said his 
 grace, ‘ of informing you, that my young friend in- 
 tends to honour me with her company to Lady 
 Warrenford’s route.’— ‘ Surprising !’ exclaimed Mrs. 
 Page ; ‘ but, mind, I have no hand in this affair. I 
 will never again take charge of Mrs. Boyd’s virtue 
 or person, so I wish you joy of your commission.’ 
 I wondered at all this. Mrs. Page seemed dis- 
 pleased at the company I had chosen. I knew not 
 then the full extent of this woman’s art and wicked- 
 ness. Conscious that I was about to perform some 
 good actions, I set off with his grace in tolerable 
 high spirits. 
 
 At Lady Warrenford’s, all the company were as- 
 sembled. The rooms were splendidly illuminated ; 
 and the crowd displayed the most magnificent 
 dresses. There was a profusion of grandeur : 
 bronze figures, Grecian vestals, and Egyptian 
 sphynxes, supported innumerable lights ; whilst 
 the display of fruit on the sideboards, and flowers 
 in the recesses, created a rich scene of fairy beauty. 
 
 I took the duke’s arm, and promenaded up and 
 down the several apartments. On returning into 
 the great oak room, a young girl with a smile offer- 
 ed me some fruit. O the pleasure I felt when I 
 recognized the object of my search. Begging his 
 grace to wait a moment, I hurried the girl into an 
 adjoining recess, and obtained her promise to 
 watch my exit, and accompany me in the carriage 
 to her mother’s house. She was a quick girl, and 
 understood pretty well the character of the family 
 in which she lived. On turning to rejoin the duke, 
 I found Colonel Douglas standing before me. My 
 
T1IE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 3?5 
 
 indignation was aroused, and I said, ‘ Colonel, X 
 am authorized by Ann Kerr, the victim of treachery 
 and brutality, to demand the * 
 
 But I was interrupted by a scene of general con- 
 fusion. The defiance of law with which Lady 
 Warrenford had opened her house as a professed 
 subscription-house, had excited the observation of 
 the police magistrates, whose officers, in attempt- 
 ing to detect the gamblers in the act, had been 
 several times repulsed by the porters, drawn up in 
 array at the grand entrance. But, this night, the 
 officers mustered strong, rushed into the rooms, and 
 every thing was thrown into confusion. 
 
 The Colonel, when the constables burst into the 
 room, left me with a sneer, and darted through a 
 private door in the wainscotting. Then Sir Henry 
 Cleveland accosted me, saying, ‘ His grace has run 
 off ; but he will wait for you in his carriage, to 
 which, if you have no objection, I shall feel happy 
 to conduct you.* On any other occasion, I would 
 not have spoken to this despicable fellow. 
 
 1 His grace is not to blame,’ said Sir Henry, * for 
 the officers of police, having a warrant against all 
 whom they may find here, will make no distinction. 
 They seize the first who falls in their way, whose 
 names will be rather disagreeably published.’ 
 
 He stopped abruptly, and a servant opened the 
 door of a travelling chariot. Four horses were 
 harnessed to it ; and I saw a pistol in the pocket of 
 the door that was opened. I started back in ter** 
 ror, seeing that it was not the Duke of Beaufort’s 
 carriage. ‘ Fear nothing,’ said Sir Henry , 4 you are 
 perfectly safe.’ And passing his arm around my 
 waist, he raised me into the chariot ; and the pos** 
 tillions drove off at an unusual rate. I was ren* 
 dered motionless by terror. For some minutes I 
 was insensible. On looking around, I found my- 
 self seated between a man and a woman. The 
 former was a fierce, dissipated looking blackguard ; 
 and the other w.as the most coarse, unfeeling, ma^ 
 
326 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 culine woman I ever beheld. ‘Good God!’ ex- 
 claimed I, ‘ into what hands have I fallen !’ 
 
 ‘ Into very good hands, miss,’ replied the woman. 
 ‘ Neither Mr. M’Curdy nor myself want humanity ; 
 and there is not a gentleman in his majesty’s do- 
 minions fonder of a pretty girl, than his honour, 
 Colonel Douglas.’~r‘ Douglas !’ cried I, ‘ Oh, my 
 God!’ 
 
 ‘ It may be very lady-like,* said she ; f but it is 
 very blaspheming to call upon God when one does 
 not want him. And why such a fuss, when you 
 are going into the arms of a gentleman, who loves 
 you as his own soul? Don’t he, Mr. M’Curdy?’ — 
 ‘ Yes, and better too,’ replied he. 
 
 ‘ Dord, have mercy upon me !’ ejaculated I.-*— 1 * I 
 tell you,’ said my she-guardian, ‘ there is no occa- 
 sion for it. You are going to be as happy as the 
 day is long. Is she not, Mr. M’Curdy ?’ — ‘ Indeed, 
 she is, Mrs. Kelly ; and the night too.’—' I assure 
 you,’ said she, ‘ I have had the care of several 
 young ladies for his honour in America, England, 
 and Scotland; and some of them prayed and 
 grumbled as you do : but they soon changed their 
 tone. Oh ! his honour is the devil amongst the 
 lasses — and so honourable too.’ 
 
 ‘ Come, come, miss,’ said Mrs. Kelly, ‘think of 
 heaven on Sundays, and now think of your own 
 frail body, which cannot thrive without nourish- 
 ment. Here is a biscuit, and we’ll have a drop of 
 something nice to it.*— ‘ No,* said I, ‘ I don’t chuse 
 any.’ — ‘ Psha ! don’t tell me,’ said Mrs. Kelly, ‘ none 
 of your points. You have a long journey to per- 
 form, let me tell you ; and you must both eat and 
 drink, or do worse.’ 
 
 ‘ Don’t trouble me, good woman,* replied I.— 
 ‘ Houty touty !’ said Mrs. Kelly, ‘ don’t be after 
 provoking me with your airs and your tantarums. 
 No, that won’t do, honey. I know my office, and 
 will cure you of all this, I warrant you.’ It vrould 
 be a pretty thing, if I did not know how to manage 
 me of my own sex. Why, I am as fond as a mo* 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT>. 3?7 
 
 ther when young ladies do as I bid ’em ; but if 
 they are opstropolous Mrs. Kelly is the woman to 
 tame ’em. Now, miss, just take this biscuit.’ — 
 4 Pray do, miss,’ said M’ Curdy. I did take the 
 biscuit ; but, thinking that this submission betray- 
 ed a weakness unsuited to my present trying situa- 
 tion, I threw it out of the coach-window. Mrs. 
 Kelly said nothing ; but her eyes glared fire, and 
 I never before saw such a demoniacal countenance. 
 
 Daylight was now advancing, and we were pro- 
 ceeding rapidly along the turnpike road. The 
 horses had been changed at every stage with great 
 expedition ; and as my guards never quitted the 
 chariot, I could not solicit the interposition of the 
 people at the inns on the road. At last, we stop- 
 ped at a little country inn to breakfast. When the 
 chariot-door was opened, Colonel Douglas offered 
 me his hand. The mingled emotions of terror and 
 anger, deprived me of motion, and I sunk down 
 upon the seat. In a moment I recovered myself, 
 descended from the chariot without assistance, and, 
 walking into the house, cast a glance of anger and 
 contempt at the colonel. 
 
 In a short time, the colonel entered the room. 
 4 You see, my dear,’ said he, 4 the power of love. I 
 found it impossible to live without you ; so, in- 
 stead of falling upon my sword in despair, I 
 thought it best to give you an opportunity of judg- 
 ing of my merits.’ — 4 Of your merits!’ re-echoed I, 
 contemptuously, 4 rather say of your baseness.’ — 
 4 Why, that is heroically spoken, I must confess ; 
 though I cannot perceive the baseness of designing 
 to make you happy, and myself too.’ 
 
 4 Well, sir,’ said I, 4 you are, I believe, callous to 
 all sense of virtue. But you will not find me the 
 tame, yielding thing you suppose.’-— 4 O ! I know,’ 
 replied he, 4 part of your notable scheme of resist- 
 ance. But it is all in vain. The people of the inn 
 know that you are my sister, and that I am yoiu 
 guardian, who have found it necessary to prevent 
 you eloping with a libertine lover/ 
 
2?3 I? OSINA ; OR 
 
 These last words were uttered with somethin" 
 between the smile of raillery and the sneer of 
 triumph. I was silenced by his assurance ; and I 
 could easily see, by the looks of the waiter and at- 
 tendants, that the postillions, and my companions, 
 M’Curdy and Mrs. Kelly, had published the story 
 which Douglas had just told me with such effron-* 
 tery. 
 
 I eagerly seized the opportunity to excite the 
 compassion of the landlady, whom I found in an 
 adjoining room. She looked upon me with an air 
 of incredulity ; but she listened patiently until I 
 had finished. She then coolly answered, * I get my 
 bread, madam, by minding pay own business, and 
 never interfere with other people’s affairs. Your 
 brother seems to be a good-natured gentleman, and 
 I am sure will not ill-treat his sister.’ 
 
 ‘Oh! mistress,’ exclaimed I, ‘if you have the 
 feelings of a mother, of a woman, save me. He is 
 not my brother ; indeed, he is not./ — ‘ That may be 
 as it may,’ replied the landlady ; ‘ but I would ad- 
 vise you not to be so hasty. Look before you leap. 
 Marry in haste, and repent at leisure. Aye, I 
 know the truth of that wise saying.’ 
 
 I was now convinced that it vrould be in vain to 
 persuade this ignorant woman against the truth of 
 the first story she had heard ; for vulgar people are 
 always the most obstinate. I therefore turned to 
 leave the room, when Colonel Douglas took my 
 hand, and, with the most incomparable assurance, 
 said, ‘ The chariot is ready, my dear sister. All 
 this is for your good \ and you will yet thank me 
 with tears of gratitude, for my brotherly interfer- 
 ence.’ 
 
 On recovering from my first amazement, I indig- 
 nantly withdrew my hand, and ran down stairs to 
 implore the protection of any stranger I might see. 
 But, alas ! I could see no one except the people of 
 the inn and the colonel’s servants. ‘ Mr. Jewett,’ 
 I exclaimed, ‘ I demand your protection from ille- 
 gal violence in the king’s name. If you refuse, you 
 
TTTE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 3*29 
 
 will feel the consequences. The landlord partly 
 laughed and partly coughed out, ‘ Ha ! ha ! ha I 
 there’s a go for ye !’ The chariot-door was now 
 opened ; and Douglas put his arm around me, and 
 lifted me in, with a suddenness that left me not a 
 moment for reflection, 
 
 About noon this day, I perceived a gentleman’s 
 travelling carriage was approaching us. Just as it 
 had come up, I uttered a loud scream, and waved 
 my handkerchief out of the window, At the same 
 instant, I found Mrs. Kelly’s sinewy arms around 
 me, but had the pleasure to see that the postillions 
 of the strange carriage had stopped their horses. 
 The last glimpse I obtained of my expected de? 
 liverers showed me the colonel talking to them into 
 the carriage window. As our chariot continued to 
 proceed without interruption, I inferred that this 
 attempt had also failed. 
 
 About eleven o’clock at night, the chariot halted 
 for the first time since the morning. My guards 
 had eaten and drunk well ; but I refused to share 
 in their repasts, though now I felt hungry. I also 
 entered the house the more willingly, as I still 
 hoped I should find some persons whose courage 
 and humanity would rescue me from violence. But 
 at this inn I did not see a single soul,* except a 
 clumsy, vulgar-looking country girl, who served 
 up the tea with the greatest awkwardness. On re- 
 entering the chariot, I saw the colonel mount up 
 behind. From the sun, I knew that we had pro-? 
 ceeded northward ; but how far, or in what direc- 
 tion, I could not tell. From the time and rate of 
 our travelling, I conceived that we must have gone 
 at least about three hundred miles ; and I inferred 
 from the appearance of the cottages and the coun- 
 try, that we were in Scotland. After descending a 
 very lofty hill, we passed a narrow bridge, which 
 crossed a most terrific chasm ; and then rode along 
 a narrow, neglected gravel-road, on the summit of 
 a precipice, and overshadowed by lofty trees. One 
 of the postillions dismounted, and opening a gate s 
 
330 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 we entered into a small grass area, behind which 
 stood a strong, gloomy, square house. I started 
 with terror at its desolate appearance, which seem- 
 ed to adapt it for any work of lawless outrage. 
 
 The postillions knocked for some time in vain. 
 The inhabitants of the house seemed buried in a 
 profound repose. At last, I heard the drawing of 
 bolts, :the turning of locks, and the rattling of 
 chains. An old woman opened the outer door. 
 
 ‘ Are the chambers aired, Tibby ?’ said the colonel, 
 in a loud voice ; 1 and are all my orders obeyed for 
 the reception of this young lady V Tibby curtsied 
 and answered in the affirmative. 
 
 Douglas now handed me from the chariot, and 
 conducted me through a small hall, and up a wind- 
 ing stone staircase, into an old-fashioned parlour, 
 where he said, ‘ Mss Hawkins, you will consider 
 yourself as mistress here of every thing but one ; — 
 that is to say, having taken so much pains to ob- 
 tain you, I shall not easily suffer your escape. My 
 wish, in detaining you here, is to afford you the 
 opportunity of judging of my character. Yet I 
 will never see you without your permission. The 
 sincerest respect for your wishes will attest my 
 love. Rest, at present, is most necessary. Tibby 
 will conduct you to your chamber.’ The old wo- 
 man made me a bob curtsey, saying, ‘ You follow 
 me, miss and I obeyed. She led me into a roomy 
 chamber, which, being covered with oak wainscot- 
 ing, was very dry. Two long, narrow window’s 
 were screened by old-fashioned curtains, that also 
 concealed the great thickness of the walls. But I 
 was so exhausted in spirits ,and strength, that I! 
 scarcely observed the furniture ; and throwing my- 
 self upon the bed, it was with difficulty the old 
 woman could persuade me to take off my clothes. 
 
 ‘ You’ll find the Ha, vera pleasant,’ said the old 
 woman. ‘ What is the name of this hall inquired 
 X. ‘ Aye, aye,’ said she, with a look of pleasure, 
 ‘ this is the braw r est auld house on ,the Borders.. 
 Mony a. hearty towzle hae our fore-elders stood 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 
 
 331 
 
 within these wa’s wi’ the English loons, when they 
 cam like hungry wolves to tak our siller, and our 
 kye, but, aboon a’, our bonny lasses. When 
 the English thieves on the Borders found they 
 could not ding auld Scotland down, .they spoke 
 fair, and we gied them the hand o’ fellowship ; an’ 
 we are now ane people, under ane king, God bless 
 him, an keep him in the right path. I hae lived in 
 the Ha’ saxty-sax years ; I was bom under this 
 blessed roof, when my mither lived wi’ the auld 
 squire. Nae harm in that, lady ; for he was a 
 canny man, and my mither that’s dead an’ gane 
 was a God-fearing woman, and she an’ the squire 
 was as good as married in the sight o’ God an’ man.’ 
 
 ‘ Guid night,' continued the talkative old woman, 
 4 I’ll warrant you’ll sleep w T eel. The bed and room 
 are weel aired. Nae ane has slept in it for ten 
 years by-past. Hell-fire Haliburton, as we ca’d 
 him, slept in it last, on that mournfu’ night that 
 he selled his estate to Pringle, the Edinbro’ writer.’ 
 
 ‘ Does not the hall belong to Colonel Douglas ?’ 
 said I. — ‘ Na, lady, the braw colonel only rents it 
 for a time. I wish he was our lawfu’ maister, for 
 he is as handsome a man as ever een could wish to 
 see. 
 
 I took up the candle, and, after fastening the 
 door, examined the wainscot, to see if there were 
 any concealed doors. I looked carefully into an 
 adjoining closet ; and seeing that all was safe, I 
 lay down. I enjoyed a profound repose, in spite 
 of my situation. Late in the forenoon I arose re- 
 freshed and tranquil. 
 
 My apartments w^ere the highest in the house.. 
 The closet window looked direct into a small gar- 
 den, surrounded by a very lofty stone w r all. My 
 chamber window commanded a very limited view, 
 being within a few yards of a large rookery, be- 
 hind which a steep bank rose abruptly, and shut 
 out the prospect of the adjoining country. In the 
 closet was a collection of English, French, and 
 Italian books ; a harpsichord ; a variety of music ; 
 
332 
 
 ROSIN A 5 OR, 
 
 and a large bureau, filled with linen, and drawing 
 materials. How odious did these attentions ap- 
 pear to me, from a man I hated. 
 
 I then descended to the parlour, where I found 
 breakfast prepared. X breakfasted alone and 
 leisurely. I then viewed the paintings and en* 
 gravings hung round the room, but was shocked to 
 find that they were all of the most indecent descript- 
 ion, consisting of naked Venuses, a Daphne and 
 Apollo, David and Bathsheba, and similar subjects, 
 Mrs, Kelly presented herself at my room door, 
 asking if I would permit her to show me the house 
 and gardens. I had resolved to treat her with cool 
 civility, I thought that, perhaps, I might bribe 
 this woman, as the wicked are the most ready to 
 betray the trust reposed in them. I looked into 
 two or three rooms, and then walked round the 
 garden. 
 
 On returning, I read till bed time ; occasionally 
 pacing the room, meditating on the means of es- 
 cape. Thus I spent four days. I saw — I heard 
 nothing. On the fifth day, I noticed that the din- 
 ner-table was spread for two, * What means this, 
 Mrs. Kelly ?’ said I. — ‘ Oh !’ replied she, ‘ if your 
 ladyship’s honour pleases, my master proposes to 
 dine with you ; but if his company be not desired, 
 he will not come.’ 
 
 In a few minutes Douglas appeared in his mili- 
 tary uniform, as being that which he conceived 
 would render him the most fascinating. His ad* 
 dress was passionate, but submissive ; and he re«- 
 ceived my repulses with respect and even humility, 
 His language and manner were unobjectionable. 
 But I was more than ever convinced that he was a 
 dangerous libertine. After dinner, I demanded to 
 know how long he intended to detain me in cus* 
 tody. 
 
 ‘ I hope,’ he replied, ‘ that my self-denial will 
 dissipate all idle apprehensions, and entitle me to 
 some portion of gratitude. I would rather perish 
 than violate the dictates of decorum; though it 
 
TTIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 333 
 
 will be better to die than thus to live unblessed and 
 unloved/ I smiled scornfully at this hypocrisy, 
 and rose to leave the room ; but he prevented me. 
 I could not but admire the uncommon powers of 
 Douglas, whose mind appeared to be richly stored 
 with literary and scientific knowledge. 
 
 Two days were again passed in solitude. Mrs. 
 Kelly was the only person I ever saw ; and though 
 she treated me with respect, yet my fears increased. 
 The Public Ledger, a London paper, was sent up 
 to my chamber every morning. On glancing over 
 it, the loved name of Lemington caught my eye. 
 But, O heavens ! I tremble when I recollect tho 
 agony I felt in reading the melancholy paragraph, 
 which ran thus : — 
 
 ‘ Letters from Philadelphia, dated the 3rd ult., 
 have been received at Liverpool, from one of which 
 our correspondent has sent us the following very 
 afflicting intelligence. The Earl of Lemington, 
 having official business to transact at Charleston, 
 embarked on board a schooner at New York, with 
 his secretary and two servants. The crew consist- 
 ed of two Americans and five negroes. They ex- 
 perienced a dreadful gale from the north-east. The 
 vessel sprung a leak, and the crew were obliged 
 to run her on shore near Cape Henry, at the mouth 
 of the Chesapeake. The earl’s servants and three 
 negroes were drowned in attempting to reach the 
 shore ; but a more dreadful fate awaited the sur- 
 vivors. A gang of monsters in the shape of men 
 assembled to plunder the vessel ; but the spirited 
 young nobleman determined to save his instruc- 
 tions at all hazards. A fierce struggle ensued, 
 when the cowardly Americans fled, and left our 
 gallant countryman in the hands of the ferocious 
 plunderers. His face has been shockingly dis- 
 figured, and one eye was entirely beat out. He 
 also received a wound on his right arm, which ren- 
 dered amputation necessary. At last, he was hap- 
 pily rescued by a magistrate, aided by two or three 
 planters, who put the wretches to flight, and con- 
 
33* RQSINAJOR, 
 
 veyed the brave youth to an adjoining house* 
 Where he remains in a very doubtful state.’ 
 
 The paper dropped from my hand. A cold sick- 
 ness came over me, and I tottered to my bed. 1 
 will not attempt to describe the degree of misery 1 
 suffered during two or three hours. The hand- 
 some, the manly, the gallant Lemington, to be thus 
 disabled and mutilated! It was dreadful. Oh! 
 how I wished to be at his bedside, to comfort, to 
 nurse him ! At last, a thought suddenly struck 
 me, that this paragraph might be manufactured by 
 the ingenuity of Colonel Douglas. There was 
 some comfort in this. I was now less uneasy, but 
 much perplexed. 
 
 On the morning of the tenth day of my confine- 
 ment, I perceived the gardener, an old man, work- 
 ing in the strawberry bed. I immediately wrote 
 on a slip of paper, ‘ If you be a man and a Chris- 
 tian, save a poor female prisoner, whom Colonel 
 Douglas detains in this house unlawfully. Write 
 to Lady Beckford, Portman Square, London, that 
 Bosina Hawkins is here ; and I will reward you 
 beyond your hopes.’ This I tied up in a paper, 
 with five guineas, which was all the money I had ; 
 I then threw the parcel close beside where he stood. 
 He stared, looked up at the closet window, and re- 
 sumed his work. I hoped that he had noticed the 
 parcel fall ; but I soon had the mortification to see 
 Mrs. Kelly enter the garden, pick up my parcel, 
 and take the gardener away with her. 
 
 In the afternoon, Colonel Douglas solicited leave 
 to wait upon me. I refused. Next day, he re- 
 newed the request ; and I again refused. ‘ You 
 don’t know his honour,’ said Mrs. Kelly : ‘ he is 
 not to be fooled.’ — ‘I defy him,’ was my laconic 
 reply. 
 
 After dinner, the colonel tapped gently at my 
 chamber door ; and he entered in a state of agita- 
 tion. ‘ I have, miss,’ said he, ‘ waited and sighed 
 in solitude, expecting a ray of hope to proceed from 
 the bright star which I adore. I might have treated 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID, 335 
 
 you differently ; but I love you too well not to show* 
 you the greatest respect.’ — ‘ Oh ! then it appears,* 
 replied I, ‘ that I am yours by right of conquest, 
 and ought to be grateful for all the evil you do not 
 do me.’ — ‘ You are a most extraordinary lady, and 
 must have a very proud, and a very hard heart too.' 
 — ‘ Hear me,’ exclaimed I ; ‘ I am not the timid, 
 weak, yielding being, you must have supposed me 
 to be. Were you as dear to me as ever man was 
 to woman, the situation into which you have be- 
 trayed me would tear you from my heart; and 
 while you confine me here, there is no considera- 
 tion on earth would tempt me to be any thing more 
 to you than I am now.’ 
 
 ‘ Make no rash or foolish resolutions,’ said the 
 colonel. Your character is now irretrievably gone. 
 Every body knows that you eloped with me, and 
 that you persisted, contrary to the wishes of Mrs. 
 Page, to attend Lady Warrenford’s route. Per- 
 haps you may blame me for all this ; but it is in 
 vain that you oppose fate, by which you are des- 
 tined for my arms.’ — ‘Thou despicable, wicked 
 wretch,’ I exclaimed, ‘ how I loath thee ! Go— 
 avoid my sight, and shroud thy guilty head in 
 darkness : then reflect upon thy cruelties to poor 
 Ann Kerr, and her murdered father. Repent thee 
 of all thy falsehoods, crimes, and pollutions, which 
 render thee unworthy to live. Go — for if thou in- 
 sultest me by thy hateful presence, God, the aven- 
 ger of innocence, only knows how soon thou may- 
 est be made to expiate thy sins.’ 
 
 ‘ I find you are in a state of high excitement,’ 
 said he. ‘I will therefore leave you to reflect upon 
 matters, and to-morrow will hope to find you more 
 reasonable.’ — ‘ I despise thy threats, and will never 
 bend to thy power,’ replied I. Douglas gave me a 
 look indicative of fury, and hastily walked out of 
 the room. 
 
 I now saw that matters were drawing to a crisis, 
 and that no time should be lost. I had discovered 
 the marks of a door in the wainscotting. I also 
 
3 % iiOstNA ; oft, 
 
 had found in a table-drawer a small dagger, which 
 I concealed in my pocket ; and every night I laid 
 it under my pillow, being determined to defend my 
 honour to the last. The possession of this small 
 instrument calmed my mind. 
 
 The only way of escape was by the window, 
 which wa.3 so high, that, even now I cannot think 
 of it without shuddering. But as no time was to 
 be lost, I began to Gut up the sheets into long slips, 
 which I twined and sewed together. Then I ex- 
 tinguished my candle, and on looking through the 
 window of the closet, I saw the figure of a man 
 walking in the garden. I saw that it was the col- 
 onel. He walked up and down the garden for two 
 hours, when he disappeared. I waited an hour 
 after this, when, hearing no sound, I prepared for 
 my dangerous descent. I carefully fastened the 
 end of my rope of linen ; and, with a prayer to 
 heaven for help, I crept out of the window, and 
 began to descend. This was hastened by the bark- 
 ing of a fierce mastiff dog, which was let loose in 
 the garden every night. My hands suffered by 
 coming into contact with the old stone walls of the 
 house ; but at last I gained the top of the garden 
 wall, upon which I sat down to take my breath. It 
 was very lofty; but, fortunately, a quantity of 
 manure lay upon the outside, just below where I 
 sat. Then I swung myself with one arm from the 
 top of the wall, and dropped down upon the heap ; 
 for a moment I was stunned ; but when I arose, I 
 found, to my great joy, that none of my bones 
 were broken, nor had I suffered any serious mj ury. 
 
 As the dog continued to bark, I walked quickly 
 forward ; and, after climbing over the gate that 
 led into the road, I ran with all my might. It was 
 dark; but I found the bridge which I mentioned 
 before, which I passed, and continued walking on 
 with great speed, stopping occasionally to listen if 
 any one was behind me. At day-light I thought 
 it safest to leave the road, and to cross the country 
 by a narrow lane upon my right. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 337 
 
 I walked along this lane for a long way, but 
 could see no human habitations, except two or 
 three poor cottages. At length, I saw two young 
 women returning across a field from milking, and 
 I resolved to follow them. On entering the next 
 field, I gained the rising ground, a neat little vil- 
 lage was near. As soon as I was discovered by the 
 villagers the houses were emptied of both men and 
 women, who regarded me with the utmost curiosity. 
 My muslin dress, soiled with manure and the dirty 
 roads I had pa&ed, and the slight fancy hat on my 
 head appeared a very odd dress for a solitary tra- 
 veller. I was hesitating which house I should ven- 
 ture into, when, looking behind, I saw two horse- 
 men galloping up the road towards the village, and 
 shouting. ‘I am pursued, and lost,’ I thought; 
 and seeing a genteel housq before me, I ran to- 
 wards it, darted through the flower-garden, and 
 rushing into an apartment, exclaimed, 4 Save — oh ! 
 save me from a ruffian.’ This was the last convul- 
 sive effort of nature, for I instantly sank down 
 upon the floor. 
 
 On recovering my recollection, I found myself 
 laid upon a bed in a very handsome chamber. My 
 brain felt as if on fire — frightful figures flitted be- 
 fore my eyes — and the room and the furniture 
 were succeeded by other strange scenes. I thought 
 I saw a woman standing beside me. ‘ Hush !’ said 
 I, 4 speak low, or the colonel will hear. He will 
 carry you away to his den. But since I died, I am 
 happy : he cannot catch me now. See how the 
 imps grin at me. But stop — Lemington will be 
 here by and by, and then I’ll not be afraid.’ Thus 
 I raved, as I was afterwards informed. 
 
 Next morning, I awoke refreshed. I heard a 
 footstep tread softly over the carpet. 4 For G-od’s 
 sake,’ said I, 4 tell me where I am. — 4 Silence,’ said 
 a sweet voice, ‘you must be quiet: it is necessary 
 for your recovery. Be assured you are amongst 
 friends.’ — 4 1 have heard that voice before. Do, 
 dear madam, draw the curtain,’ said I. — 4 The doc- 
 
 v 
 
338 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 tor says that calm repose is necessary. Be reason- 
 able, Rosina.’ — ‘ Rosina !’ I exclaimed, ‘then you 
 know me.’ — ‘ Yes, I do know you to be every thing 
 that is gentle, good, and virtuous. Ask no more.’ 
 — ‘ I thought that the world had abandoned me/ 
 replied I : ‘ no person seemed to care for me. Yet 
 I have still a friend ; and shall I not know her.’ — 
 ‘Oh ! my dearest,’ said the lady, drawing the cur- 
 tain, and embracing me, ‘ you shall live ; and here 
 you are at home.’ — ‘ Merciful heaven ! : ’ I exclaim- 
 ed, ‘ is this my dear St. Agnes P or do I dream ?’ — 
 
 ‘ Yes, you are a little incorrect,’ said she, ‘for I ana 
 not St. Agnes, having now, through your noble 
 friendship, the liberty of calling myself Mrs. 
 Forbes.’ — ‘ But why in mourning ?’ inquired I, 
 raising my head. — ‘Mr. Forbes is well,’ she an- 
 swered. ‘ To-morrow I hope, you will be better, 
 when I will tell you all.’ 
 
 On the morrow I was much better, rose, and 
 dressed for breakfast ; when I was presented to my 
 former friend, Mr. Forbes. Mr. Drysdale, the sur- 
 geon of the village, also breakfasted with us. He 
 was a man of great skill and extensive reading, 
 and had served as an army surgeon in various 
 parts of the world. Mr. and Mrs. Forbes had been 
 j ust going to sit down to breakfast, when I burst 
 into their little parlour. My wild air, disordered 
 dress, and pale countenance, induced them to think 
 that I was some poor creature disordered in mind ; 
 and it was not until Mr. Forbes had carried me up 
 stairs that I was recognized. Previous to this, a 
 servant had been sent for Mr. Drysdale. He took 
 out a lance to bleed me in the temporal artery, 
 when my nose gushed out of blood. This was a 
 favourable symptom, and the bleeding was en- 
 couraged. I then received a sedative draught, af- 
 ter which I had slept for nearly eighteen hours. 
 
 ‘But how do you happen to be living in this 
 country ?’ inquired I. ‘ Long have I been grieved 
 at the strange neglect with which I have been 
 treated.’ — ‘ Could either Mr. Forbes or I,’ replies^ 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 .339 
 
 she, ‘ have been capable of treating you with neg- 
 lect, we would deserve the severest reprehension. 
 No, my dear Rosina, such a case is impossible. But 
 many circumstances have combined to separate us, 
 until a strange occurrence, has brought us thus 
 unaccountably together.’ 
 
 Mrs. Forbes said, ‘ As soon as the order for my 
 liberation from the convent at Amiens arrived, I 
 was conducted by two police-officers to the French 
 frontier. I j oined my dear husband and his mother 
 at Brussels. The very first thing I did was to in- 
 form you of my joyful deliverance, and to tender 
 my gratitude for your unwearied exertions on my 
 behalf. We then went to Leydon, where Mr. 
 Forbes has a near relation pursuing his studies in 
 medicine. Here my mother-in-law had a severe 
 paralytic stroke ; she lingered a few months, and 
 died. I wrote to you again and again, but never 
 received any answer. By attending closely on my 
 dying friend, my health impaired, and I was order- 
 ed into the country :; and, as our own house is un- 
 dergoing alterations, we accepted the offer of this 
 house, which is the property of Mr. John M’Nab, 
 writer to the Signet.’ 
 
 I remained with my kind friends for a week. 
 Mr. Drysdale, who knew my story, had observed a 
 great bustle amongst Colonel Douglas’ servants ; 
 but as his residence was ten miles distant from the 
 Tweedside, where I now lived, we felt secure, and 
 I walked out with Mrs. Forbes every evening with- 
 out fear. I had written to Lady Beckford an ac- 
 count of the reason of my sudden disappearance, 
 the treatment I had experienced, and how my 
 happy escape had been effected. 
 
 One evening, Mrs. Forbes entered my room in a 
 state of agitation. ‘ Are you unwell, my dear ?’ 
 said I. — ‘ No,’ replied she, ‘it is only a sick qualm, 
 that is now passing off.’ She then attempted to be 
 cheerful. I saw something was wrong; and strove 
 to appear lively, though neither of us were good 
 actors. Mrs. Forbes often cast a hasty glance 
 
34ft rosina; or, 
 
 through the window. At last she exclaimed, 
 * Thank God, he is gone !’ and then she threw her 
 arms around my neck, and burst into tears. ‘ What’s 
 the matter ?’ exclaimed I. ‘ Oh V replied she, ‘ that 
 had man, Douglas, has been below. Alas ! how 
 near the lamb has been to the tiger.’ 
 
 Mr. Forbes entered. ‘ What an unlucky inci- 
 dent !’ said he. ‘ The colonel knows you are here/ 
 — ‘ Did he intimate his suspicions ?* asked Mrs. 
 Forbes. — ‘ No,’ replied he, ‘ he durst not do that. I 
 will permit no man to insult me, or to attempt a 
 violation of my hospitality.’ I asked several ques- 
 tions; and I inferred the impossibility of remain- 
 ing where I was. The colonel possessed great in- 
 fluence ; and he must have felt deeply chagrined at 
 being foiled by a young woman. I determined to 
 fly from a neighbourhood full of dangers. 
 
 Mr. Forbes with reluctance yielded to my wishes, 
 while his wife wept upon my breast. I only re- 
 mained calm and unmoved, for my mind had now 
 acquired confidence and loftiness. Soon Mr Forbes 
 and I were mounted on horseback ; and at my 
 earnest entreaty, he furnished me with a loaded 
 pistol, for I had vowed to shoot the colonel if he 
 attempted to intercept us. My companion was 
 also well armed. Having taken leave of my dear 
 convent friend, we rode off at a smart canter, and 
 scarcely met a single person until we entered Ber- 
 wick. The night was very dark, though occasion- 
 ally illumined with most vivid flashes of lightning. 
 The rain fell in torrents ; and, amidst the war of 
 the elements, my horse trembled, and once refused 
 to proceed ; but I fearlessly urged him on. I fear- 
 ed not the glare of the lightning, nor the tremen- 
 dous thunder ; but I feared the unbridled passions 
 of men. From these I fled. 
 
 At the inn where we halted, Mr. Forbes implored 
 me to take some rest; but the mail coach had just 
 arrived, and I determined to proceed instantly: so, 
 drinking a glass of wine, I stepped into the mail* 
 The roads were inundated, and we proceeded with 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 341 
 
 difficulty. The violent exertion I had made now 
 caused a re-action, and I grew faint and unwell. I 
 thought I would he compelled to stop, both at Fel- 
 ton and Morpeth : hut I persevered, and at last 
 reached Newcastle upon Tyne. Here, after half an 
 hour’s rest, and drinking some tea, I was so re- 
 freshed and strengthened as to he able to proceed. 
 At Newark I enjoyed a long and sweet sleep. 
 
 In going down a very steep declivity, near a lit- 
 tle town called Chester-le-street, in the county of 
 Durham, the horses took fright ; and as the ford at 
 the bottom was swelled with water, and the bridge 
 very narrow, the coachman, with singular presence 
 of mind, turned the horses' heads to one side, and 
 though the coach was overturned in a ditch, yet 
 our lives were saved. Several countrymen and 
 carriers ran to our assistance, and pulled us out of 
 the coach, where we were lying in the most ridicu- 
 lous positions. 
 
 Being refreshed, I proceeded in a post-chaise to 
 the place of my nativity. Oh ! how my heart beat 
 within me when I first saw the humble steeple of 
 our church amongst the trees that adorned the rec- 
 tory \ Every field, every house, every stile that I 
 saw, reminded me of some interesting scene in my 
 early life. Every thing seemed tranquil and sta- 
 tionary ; yet what strange vicissitudes had I expe- 
 rienced since I left my native home ! I had left 
 my father’s roof with all the simplicity and inex- 
 perience of uncultivated youth ; but I was now re- 
 turning with my mind richly stored with practical 
 and speculative knowledge. I then exhibited all 
 the infantine charms of a mere pretty girl ; but 
 now I possessed the superior and intellectual beau- 
 ties of a woman, whom all confessed had been sin- 
 gularly favoured by nature. When first exposed 
 to temptation in yonder castle, I was fearful, and 
 depended upon the advice and protection of others ; 
 very lately, I had been entrapped into a state of 
 stili greater danger, yet I had preserved my tran- 
 quillity, and depended upon the resources of my 
 
342 rosina; or, 
 
 own mind. I had formed the most desperate reso- 
 lutions in my own defence, and had evidently in- 
 spired one of the boldest and most unprincipled men 
 living with sentiments of caution and apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I DROVE through the village, and was much 
 surprised at the strange faces that I saw, and I 
 scarcely knew any of the girls and children ; so 
 great is the change affected in a few years, even in 
 a solitary country place. About half a mile beyond 
 the village, the chaise drew up at a small house, 
 and Peggy flew out to receive me. ‘ Oh ! my dear 
 mistress,’ cried she, ‘ how happy I am to see you 
 safe ! you have been so long a coming, and I have 
 had such bad dreams. But, thank G-od, you are 
 Safe here at last.’ 
 
 My kind-hearted aunt showed me up stairs into a 
 clean, neat apartment, which had been prepared 
 for my reception. ‘ Where are your brother and 
 sister P’ said I.—* Ah ! mistress, you must not be 
 displeased at their absence. If we had known you 
 would come to-day, they would have waited 
 to welcome you. They are both in the field; 
 but I can run and fetch them.’ — ‘ No, Peggy,’ said 
 I, ‘ let no person be disturbed on my account. I 
 saw a castle,’ said I, ‘ as I came along. Pray, who 
 resides there ‘ Why, there is the old viscountess 
 and her daughter Lady Vasey, and some company.’ 
 ‘ And have I really,’ thought I, ‘ got near my 
 most implacable enemy ? Am I always to be tor- 
 mented by persecutors ? and is no place to afford 
 me protection or peace P However, I resolved to 
 walk out but seldom ; and to remain incog. I had 
 no fear that my parents w r ould recognize me, for I 
 had grown much taller since they had seen me ; 
 while my dress, my name, and other circumstances 
 would prevent any suspicion. I had nothing to 
 fear but the malicious inquisitiveness of the Hon- 
 ourable Miss Lanibe, now Lady Vasey. I ordered 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 343 
 
 two chickens and ham for supper. Peggy, who 
 knew that I seldom tasted supper,, asked me if she 
 had heard aright. ‘ Do as I say, Peggy,’ replied I. 
 ‘ Perhaps I may have company to supper.’ In a 
 short time I heard the voices of my father and mo- 
 ther below. I was extremely agitated, and wished 
 to throw myself into their arms. I offered up a 
 fervent prayer for their prosperity, and that I 
 might soon be in a situation to acknowledge my 
 friends and defy my enemies. 
 
 ‘ Peggy,’ said I, as she entered, 4 1 shall be happy 
 to see your friends, and desire they would sup with 
 me.’ — ‘Ah! madam,’ replied Peggy, ‘you are too 
 good : it is not for such poor persons to be so much 
 honoured.’ — ‘ Do not dispute my orders,’ said I. 
 ‘ You have served me faithfully, and it is proper 
 that I show you my respect amongst your own 
 friends.’ Peggy left the room in a transport of joy. 
 When my parents entered, I felt hurt from the re- 
 spect with which they approached me ; and I 
 blamed myself for such deception. I had certainly 
 acquired a dignified air and carriage, which always 
 strikes those unaccustomed to high company with 
 a sense of inferiority ; but I had the art of appear- 
 ing familiar towards those that required encourage- 
 ment. I asked particulars respecting their garden, 
 farm, and the village. ‘ I feel some interest in this 
 part of the country,’ said I; ‘ for I was struck with 
 its beautiful scenery when on a visit to a lady in 
 this neighbourhood.’ My mother instantly ex- 
 claimed, ‘ Bless me ! that explains the matter ; for 
 I was sure I had seen you before, so much did your 
 face strike me on entering the room.’ 
 
 After supper, I mustered resolution to ask Peggy 
 if the good people had heard from her niece lately. 
 * She is not worth your ladyship’s notice,’ said my 
 father. ‘ If she be alive, she is no honour to us ; 
 and if she be dead, the sooner she is forgotten the 
 better.’ — ‘Look ye, husband,’ replied my mother, 
 ‘ nobody shall condemn my daughter unheard. She 
 is a very vir ’ I said, ‘I think, sir, you are 
 
344 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 wrong. Where is a poor girl, even if she erred, to 
 find a protector, when her own father abandons 
 her? Your daughter may be rather unfortunate 
 than guilty. Besides, if you reflect on the malice, 
 envy, and uncharitableness of the world, you ought 
 to be slow in giving credit to stories injurious to 
 your daughter's honour and virtue/— 4 You are 
 very good, madam,’ said my mother, ‘ to take my 
 poor girl’s part. She was always as gentle as a 
 lamb : yet she was envied ; and envy, as you ob- 
 serve, can invent tales. I wish to God that every 
 one had your good sense.’ Saying this, she melted 
 into tears ; and the meeting of our eyes softened 
 my heart to such a degree that I instantly retired 
 into a small adjoining bed-room, in order to re- 
 cover myself, and prevent a discovery. 
 
 When I had retired, I heard my father say to my 
 mother, ‘ I wonder how you can be such a fool as 
 to be crying and sobbing before strangers, who 
 know nothing about your daughter.’ — ‘ Oh l I 
 hope,’ replied my mother, ‘ that the lady will not 
 be offended. But she resembles my daughter 
 Rosina so much, that I could not restrain my tears 
 when I looked at her.’— ‘You are right,’ said my 
 father, ‘I was going to make the same remark, 
 only I thought it might give offence. But this lady 
 has been educated amongst high quality, and is 
 much older and taller, and a vast genteeler than 
 our Rose.’ — ‘ Ave,’ said my aunt, “ I remember 
 very little about my niece ; but I would give an 
 eye out of my head to see her only half so learned, 
 and good, and sweet-tempered as my mistress.’ I 
 never thought there was such a good person on the 
 earth. I believe it is owing to a few righteous 
 people like her that wicked London is not swallow- 
 ed up by an earthquake, like Sodom or Gomorrah. 
 I’m sure she is the daughter of some great lord ; 
 for you would not believe what lots of fine folks, 
 in grand carriages, comes to see her, with their 
 livery servants, and all that. Yet she has no pride, 
 and does not care a pinch of snuff about the high- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAIIX 345 
 
 est duke in the land. Sometimes she will not see 
 them ; and if they are not very creditable, she soon 
 packs them off with a flea in their ear. When we 
 were hiding ourselves from the vain pomps and 
 wickedness of the world at Stockwell, where you 
 saw me, a fine lady came in a coach. She was 
 dressed in deep morning, and she and my mistress 
 cried very much. She was a sweet-looking lady, 
 and I believe is my mistress’s mother. But I 
 would have found this out, if I had not happened 
 my misfortune on the road to her ladyship’s house.* 
 
 I do not know how long Peggy would have des- 
 canted on my high birth, noble connexions, and 
 good qualities, had I not re-entered the room. I 
 now changed the conversation, and asked my fathel* 
 to give an account of the Honourable Miss Lambe’ s 
 marriage. 
 
 SEQUEL TO THE HISTORY OF THE HONOURABLE 
 MISS LAMBE. 
 
 ‘After Lord Neville’s death, his widow and 
 daughter lived for some time at Paris. We often 
 heard that the young lady was just going to be 
 married to some great personage at court ; but it 
 seems that when the extent of her fortune was un- 
 derstood, the love of her admirers cooled. 
 
 ‘ When she came from London, several very gay 
 young gentlemen accompanied her and the vis- 
 countess. The latter, though past the prime of 
 life, is still amorously inclined. She sings, plays, 
 and dances continually ; and is seldom happy but 
 when she is conducting some love intrigue. This 
 makes her to be worse thought of than she de- 
 serves ; for, she has a good heart, and abominates 
 every thing that is mean or cruel. Some gentle- 
 men paid their court to the mother, and others to 
 the daughter. 
 
 ‘Lord Yasey saw the Honourable Miss Lambe 
 at an election-ball, and was so smitten with her 
 fascinating manners, that he was miserable until 
 he obtained an invitation to the castle. Her wit, 
 
316 R OSIN A; OR, 
 
 her beauty, and her insinuating air, completed her 
 conquest. She had felt piqued at the occasional 
 success of her mother’s playful gallantry ; and, she 
 determined to mortify her, through the instrumen- 
 tality of her new lover. ‘ My lord,* said she, ‘ I 
 have always been thwarted by my mother in those 
 little schemes of enjoyment that constitute happi- 
 ness. She has resolutely opposed every offer made 
 me, because no one who has addressed me could 
 find out her foible, which consists of an insatiable 
 desire of being admired. Now, your lordship must 
 pay her great attention, and let her imagine that 
 you give her the preference. This will afford us 
 the opportunity of seeing each other without res- 
 triction. 
 
 ‘ Lord Yasey agreed to observe her directions ; 
 and everybody concluded that he was really in 
 love with the viscountess. Her ladyship shared in 
 the general mistake. Miss Lambe perceived with 
 malignant joy, by her mother's pensiveness, what 
 was passing in her breast : and she resolved to be 
 revenged for all the severities she had suffered. 
 4 She began by treating his lordship with a haughty 
 coldness. He was perplexed, and could not un- 
 ravel the mystery. One night, he met Miss Lambe 
 in the gallery ; and he implored her to inform him 
 by what accident he had been so unhappy as to 
 incur her displeasure. 4 1 am not a fool ; and if I 
 have changed my conduct, I have had good reasons 
 for doing so. I own I had an esteem for you : and 
 now I feel surprised how you can take the trouble 
 of questioning me, when you have a more agreeable 
 employment upon your hands, and which well de- 
 serves all your pains.’ 
 
 4 His lordship could not look upon Miss Lambe’s 
 fickleness with indifference. Jealousy also filled 
 his mind ; and he recollected the polite attentions 
 bestowed upon Mr. Barnet, an ignorant, proud, 
 dissipated nabob, who had just purchased a large 
 estate near. Though old and shattered in his consti- 
 tution, yet his immense riches rendered him so 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. S 17 
 
 confident, that he believed few ladies ceuld resist 
 the brilliant offers he was qualified to make. This 
 thought gave his lordship much pain, and he re- 
 solved to watch his purse-proud rival. 
 
 * Her mother, who had been delighted with the 
 supposed addresses of his lordship, was amazed at 
 the sudden alteration of his conduct. 4 What is the 
 matter with you P’ said she to him one day. 4 Are 
 you unwell P Formerly you were gay, polite, and 
 entertaining : now you are dull, and ill-humoured ; 
 and one does not know who you are angry with.’ 
 His lordship sighed. 4 That is well,’ said the vis- 
 countess, smiling: f this sigh is a preliminary of 
 your confidence in me.’ ‘ Ah ! madam,’ replied he, 
 4 my troubles are not easily removed. I am jeal- 
 ous, and you can easily comprehend ■' ‘Jeal- 
 
 ous!’ cried the viscountess, 4 of whomP Good 
 God ! no person enters my doors who can give you 
 the least uneasiness. Do you see any favourite 
 but yourself ?’— 4 Yes, how can I doubt it ?’ replied 
 he. 4 Is not the nabob Barnet the favourite?’ — 
 4 He !’ exclaimed her ladyship, 4 what that disgust- 
 ing, proud fellow ! He the favourite ! Why, he is 
 almost beyond endurance ; and if he can give you 
 any uneasiness, I will forbid him my house.’ At 
 this moment, Miss Lambe entered, and turned pale 
 with vexation, fearing that his lordship was be- 
 coming serious in his attentions to another ; while 
 the mother, piqued that her daughter should wit- 
 ness her lover’s fervour, bid her retire, and not to 
 presume to watch her conduct. The daughter ans- 
 wered that when persons so amused themselves, 
 they ought to provide against being surprised. 
 The viscountess rose, full of indignation at her 
 daughter’s insolence ; and his lordship let a word 
 drop, which in a moment explained the secret, 
 when she sat down silent and mortified. Her 
 daughter was the divinity that his lordship 
 worshipped ; but why should he have pretended to 
 make love to her P 
 
 4 His lordship, being surprised at her ladyship’3 
 
34S rosina; or, 
 
 silence, asked if he had been so unfortunate as to 
 offend her. The viscountess resolved to terminate 
 the farce in such a manner as would save her pride 
 and delicacy from being wounded. ‘ No, my lord,’ 
 answered she, 4 1 respect and value you very 
 highly ; and you have, with evident fervour and 
 sincerity, displayed your affection for me. I am 
 deeply sensible of your great merit; and, did I 
 only consult my own inclination, should have no 
 hesitation in rewarding it. I am free to marry 
 whom I please; but 1 can always regulate my 
 feelings. I have a daughter, whom X love as a 
 mother ought to do. Her fortune is ample. As 
 your lordship’s means are not very ample. I offer 
 you my daughter. Marry her: she is rich and 
 handsome ; and though she may have some trifling 
 faults, yet she has a strong mind, capable of cor- 
 recting them. You hear the determination which 
 my love for my daughter has dictated. Either 
 marry me without any thing, or take Miss Lambe 
 with all her fortune. To-morrow X shall expect to 
 have your decision.’ 
 
 ‘Lord Yasey was delighted at what he had 
 heard. He now saw the way open for retreat, and 
 all his prospects were brightened. Overjoyed at 
 what had occurred, he hastened to his own room. 
 Miss Lambe was coming out of an apartment when 
 he was passing ; but he saw her not. 
 
 ‘ Miss Lambe was surprised to see him pass with- 
 out noticing her. This was like wormwood and 
 gall to her proud spirit. She actually cried with 
 Vexation. All his lordship’s good qualities present- 
 ed themselves to her ; and she lamented that she 
 should, in attempting to mortify her mother, have 
 lost the most amiable lover she ever had. She 
 took up her pen and wrote the following 
 
 * * Ungrateful man, is not thy triumph now complete ? 
 Thou hast torn the most affectionate heart that ever 
 throbbed in a human breast. Thou hast been the object 
 of my worship, my sole happiness, the very soul of my 
 life. The illusion lias now vanished, and I must leave 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATO. 
 
 349 
 
 thee in the arms of my mother. How indelicate to find 
 a rival in a mother ! Hut I shall complain no more. I 
 was born to be wretched ; and I shall summon all my 
 energies to support the inexpressible anguish of a first 
 love.’ 
 
 4 This note was neither signed nor addressed to 
 any one, and she conceived it to be too important 
 to entrust its delivery to any one except herself. 
 She therefore folded it up, and went up stairs to 
 his lordship’s room. Having tapped at the door, 
 a voice said, 4 Come in.’* Wishing to retire unseen 
 she opened the door, laid the note upon a table, 
 and retired. 4 But, in her agitation, she had gone 
 into the wrong room. When the weather was 
 stormy, Mr. Barnet sometimes slept at the castle. 
 When he read the note, he actually danced with 
 delight. Now, however, he fancied he was beloved, 
 and that his mistress was dying of fear and jealousy. 
 But he resolved to make his charmer happy, as 
 soon as he could compose his thoughts. Imitating 
 Miss Lambe’s prudent example, he resolved not to 
 sign his name, lest any accident should discover the 
 note, which ran as follows * 
 
 * 4 My charmer, — I have received the confession of your 
 love with rapture. What a pity it is that we should have 
 lost so much precious time, that might have been plea- 
 santly employed. Be not uneasy about your mother. I 
 wonder how you could be so foolish as to think I had any 
 designs on her antiquated carcase. An old coquet, who 
 has no other merit than that of being mother to the most 
 lovely creature in the world. I have got a better taste 
 than to be taken in with her airs. So you may pluck up 
 your spirits you were born to be happy ; and at the first 
 opportunity, I will deliver, sign, and seal this prophecy 
 upon your lovely lips.’ 
 
 He said to his servant, 4 Tom, give her ladyship 
 that letter.’ ‘Tom thought that ladyship was 
 meant the viscountess, to whom he delivered the 
 letter. The viscountess felt as any woman would 
 feel under such an insult. She saw that the letter 
 had been delivered to a wrong person in mistake, 
 and that it was in reply to some other communica* 
 tion from her daughter. 
 
350 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 “Next morning, Lord Vasey entered the vis- 
 countess’s closet with such an air of ease and con- 
 fidence, that her ladyship felt highly provoked at 
 his deceit. But she suppresed her anger, in order 
 to observe how far the impostor’s impudence would 
 go. She was determined to oppose, as far as she 
 could, her daughter’s marriage with a man capable 
 of so much treachery and dissimulation. “ I am 
 deeply impressed,’ said his lordship, ‘ with feeliugs 
 of gratitude for all the kind attentions with which 
 your ladyship has honoured me, and to say I have 
 resolved to accept your daughter’s hand, which I 
 will receive from you as a pledge of your esteem 
 and friendship.’ 
 
 ‘Really, my lord, I am quite puzzled how to 
 make a suitable return ; but, in an affair of this 
 consequence, I must let the mother take place of 
 the friend. My lord, I am informed that you in- 
 sinuate yourself into other people’s houses, in 
 order to carry on low, dirty plots.; that you are 
 ever ready to insult those most cruelly who use 
 you most kindly; and that the baseness of your 
 conduct, instead of entitling you to the hand and 
 fortune of a lady, merits rather that you should be 
 tossed in a blanket, and hunted by cur-dogs from 
 every respectable house.’ 
 
 Lord Yasey was amazed. 4 Your ladyship,’ an- 
 swered he, 4 has a mind to be pleasant ; though, 
 for my part, I cannot much relish the joke. Had 
 my conscience accused me of having acted basely, 
 your remarks would be justified ; but I defy the 
 
 bitterest enemy ’ 4 Hold ! my lord, and do 
 
 not add to the blackest ingratitude a duplicity dis- 
 gusting and unnecessary.’ — 4 If your ladyship be 
 really serious,’ said Lord Vasey, 4 then I beg to say 
 that you have somehow been grossly deceived. I 
 have a right, however, to demand the names of my 
 calumniators ; and, depend upon it, I will punish 
 the impostors as they deserve. 
 
 4 It is of no use, my lord,’ said she, 4 for you to 
 affect the airs of a man of honour. I have unde 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 351 
 
 niable proofs — of your secret and base proceedings 
 
 in my house, and ’ ‘ For heaven’s sake,’ said 
 
 his lordship, ‘ let us understand one another. You 
 are a lady whom I very highly respect. Do tell 
 me the nature of the proceedings to which you al- 
 lude.’ ‘ Is it possible,’ cried she, ‘ that you should 
 carry your impositions to this length.; and talk of 
 your respect for a person on whom you have heap- 
 ed the most vulgar abuse ?’ — ‘ Yes, I do aver that 
 I am incapable of such conduct.’ — ‘ And you ima- 
 gine,’ said the viscountess, ‘ that I do not know of 
 the declaration of love which you received from my 
 daughter last night, and that I have not seen your 
 delectable description of the ‘ old coquet ?’ Go, 
 my lord, it is shameful for a man of your rank to 
 lie so openly.’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ Miss Lambe,’ replied his lordship, ‘ knows that 
 your story is false. I should certainly have re- 
 joiced to receive from her hands a declaration of 
 love ; but I have never been so favoured. If, how- 
 ever, this story has been invented as an excuse for 
 breaking your word with me, it is quite unneces- 
 sary.’ Miss Lambe now entered the room. 
 
 Then his lordship said, ‘I am really overjoyed, 
 miss, that you have appeared so opportunely. 
 Would you believe it, that your mother is trying to 
 persuade me that I received a declaration of love 
 from you last night, and that I have been intriguing 
 with you for the purpose of holding her up to ridi- 
 cule and insult P Speak, miss ; you can best de- 
 monstrate my innocence.’ 
 
 ‘ Miss Lambe was surprised to find that her mo- 
 ther had discovered her note to Lord Yasey, which 
 she had delivered with her own hands ; and also 
 puzzled at the accusation of his lordship having 
 acted so as to ridicule her. But she thought it 
 would be safest to deny having corresponded with 
 his lordship ; for which she was rewarded by her 
 ladyship with a box on the ear. Then turning to 
 Lord Vasey, she ordered him to retire, and never 
 again enter her presence. His lordship, stung with. 
 
352 RGSINA; OR, 
 
 such injurious treatment, rose and said, ‘ Yes, your 
 ladyship shall see me no more : but I repeat, before 
 this young lady, that all you have asserted is a 
 clumsy fiction.’ Saying this, in a few minutes he 
 and his servants had left the castle. 
 
 ‘ As soon as Lord Yasey had withdrawn, the vis- 
 countess iooked round upon her daughter, who was 
 crying with vexation. ‘ You are very impudent, 
 miss,’ said she, ‘ to deny what I know to be true.’ 
 Saying this, she threw her the letter she had re* 
 ceived (as she supposed) from his lordship. ‘ There, 
 read that, and continue to deny what I have as- 
 serted. Go, thou art unworthy of my care ; and I 
 should act prudently if I were to disclaim you al- 
 together." Miss Lambe was astonished when she 
 had glanced over the letter* which she also sup- 
 posed had been penned by his lordship ; and, 
 wicked as she was, she felt mortified, grieved, and 
 ashamed at this discovery. She retired to her own 
 room ; and, after the first emotions of shame were 
 past, began to contrive means for regaining his 
 lordship. 
 
 Mr. Barnet inquired of the viscountess’ servants 
 what had happened ; and, hearing that Lord Vasey 
 and his servants had left the castle in consequence 
 of her ladyship’s orders, his joy knew no bounds. 
 This and Miss Lambe’s confession of love, assured 
 him that his victory was complete. 
 
 ‘Miss Lambe was just sitting down to dinner 
 with her mother, when Mr. Barnet was announced* 
 He entered humming a tune, and took his seat with 
 a freedom quite unusual. At dinner, he was ex- 
 cessively attentive and polite to Miss Lambe, who 
 sat with a look of cold sullenness. Her mother, 
 who knew that Lord Yasey was jealous of him, 
 caressed him extremely. The gentleman was so 
 elated, that the viscountess was diverted at his 
 vanity. She also took a malicious pleasure in 
 leaving him alone with her daughter. Her lady- 
 ship entered into an adjoining closet, to listen and 
 amuse herself with her daughter’s vexation. When 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 353 
 
 Mr. Barnet was alone with his lady, he began 
 to show off his talents in the art of pleasing 
 a lady ; but his advances were repulsed with the 
 utmost disdain. At last, Barnet exclaimed, ‘ Plague 
 on’t! is this the way you show your love ?’ — ‘ Love !’ 
 replied Miss Lambe, very dryly, ‘ are you run mad ? 
 Who told you that I care a straw about either you 
 or your money-bags ?’ 
 
 ‘ Mr. Barnet was puzzled in his turn. * You are 
 a strange creature,’ answered he. ‘At one time 
 you throw yourself into my arms ; and the next 
 time I see you, I am abused and ill-treated.’ ‘ I 
 throw myself into your arms !’ cried she ; ‘ you are 
 distracted, or you never could have entertained 
 such an extravagant notion.’ — ‘ I should think so 
 too, but I am sure it was not a ghost I saw when 
 you yourself entered my room last night, and left 
 this letter upon my table. My answer was also 
 delivered by my servant into your own hands.’ 
 
 * The sight of her own note to Lord Yasey over- 
 whelmed her with confusion. But she soon reco- 
 vered herself ; and on revolving the whole affair in 
 her mind, she saw that the letter which her mother 
 had received had been delivered to her through the 
 negligence of Barnet’s servant. She said, ‘ I once 
 thought that your assertions did not merit a reply, 
 they are so groundless and impudent. As to the 
 improbable tale of a lady entering alone into a gen- 
 tleman’s chamber with a love-letter, I leave it to 
 be swallow'ed by those who have more faith than 
 sense. Pray, call your servant, and let us hear his 
 version of the story.’ Mr. Barnet rung the bell. 
 ‘ Send Robert, my footman,’ said he to the servant 
 that appeared. 
 
 ‘ Robert entered ; and Miss Lambe said in an 
 authoritative tone, ‘ Pray, did you see me in your 
 master’s -chamber last night ?’ demanded she. — ‘ No, 
 ma’am,’ replied he. — ‘ Now answer me truly, upon 
 vour life. Did you, or did you not, deliver me a 
 letter from your master last night?’ The poor 
 fellow, trembling and looking askance at his mas- 
 
 w 
 
S54 rosina; or, 
 
 ter, said, ‘ No, ma’am, I gave you no letter. 4 What !* 
 exclaimed Mr. Barnet, ‘ did you not deliver my 
 letter as ordered?’— 4 No, sir,’ replied he, ‘ I gave it 
 to Tom to take.’ — 4 Go about your business,’ said 
 Miss Lambe to the servant ; 4 I will trouble myself 
 no longer about this ridiculous affair.’ 
 
 4 Mr. Barnet sat silent ; when the viscountess re- 
 entered and ordered tea. She had now unravelled 
 the mystery, which appeared to her so very divert- 
 ing, that she several times burst into loud fits of 
 laughter. Barnet, who suspected a plot to ridicule 
 him, resented her mirth, observing she was want- 
 ing in good manners to make a jest of a man of his 
 consequence. 4 Why,’ replied the viscountess, 
 
 4 when I look upon thy love-sick face, it shakes my 
 4 antiquated carcase ’ with mirth ;’ and she re- 
 doubled her laughter. Barnet resented this by as- 
 suring the viscountess that this was the last time 
 he would ever enter the gates of the castle. Her 
 ladyship, naturally polite, apologized to Mr. Bar- 
 net, and said that she knew well the letter she had 
 received in mistake, and in which she was called 
 4 an old coquet,’ and a 4 poor old woman,’ was in- 
 tended merely as a piece of waggery. 
 
 4 The viscountess, being now convinced of the in- 
 justice of her behaviour to Lord Vasey, acknow- 
 ledged her fault, and assured him that she would 
 receive him at the castle with increased pleasure. 
 His lordship was overjoyed at this apology and in- 
 vitation. Accordingly he came the next day. Mis3 
 Lambe behaved for a few days with grace and pro- 
 priety. His lordship’s proposals of marriage were 
 accepted, and the nuptials were celebrated with 
 great splendour. Miss Lambe, after marriage, 
 seemed to have changed her very nature ; and 
 every body allowed that Lady Yasey was the most 
 sweet-tempered and most generous of women. But 
 her friends were too precipitate in their opinion. 
 
 ‘Lord Yasey took an elegant mansion about a 
 mile distant from the castje. Here he lived very 
 happily for a month ; when, one night, Lady Vasey 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 355 
 
 addressed him thus : — ‘ I hate that sour, grey-eyed 
 anatomy, that you call your steward.’ — ‘ He is a 
 worthy, honest man,’ said he, gravely, ‘ and has 
 served our family faithfully for half a century.’— 
 ‘ Don’t talk to me about centuries,’ replied she, 
 peevishly; ‘ when I say that an object is unplea- 
 sant to me, I will permit no one to hold it up to my 
 nose.’ — ‘ Well, well,’ said his lordship, ‘ old Wil- 
 liams leaves us in the morning. Let the aged 
 patriarch depart in peace.* 
 
 ‘ Next morning Lady Yasey bid her maid to order 
 the coach. ‘ Do you propose to dine abroad, my 
 dear?’ asked his lordship. — ‘ No,’ replied she, ‘I in- 
 tend to proceed to London. I am sick of this dull, 
 moping, country life, and can endure it no longer.’ 
 ‘Why,’ said he ; ‘ you could never think of adopt- 
 ing so sudden a resolution without consulting your 
 mother.’ — ‘ And do you imagine,’ cried she haugh- 
 tily, ‘ that I am still an infant in leading-strings ? I 
 will not be the slave of any one.’ ‘ I have no objec- 
 tion to visit town, if you permit the proper 
 arrangements to be made.’ — ‘ So I must wait till 
 my dear lord be in a humour to comply ; and if I 
 do not, I may go and be hanged.’ 
 
 ‘Just then, a lady called in ; when Lady Yasey 
 asked her what she thought of a husband that 
 tyrannized over his wife, and thwarted her even in 
 trifles. The lady guessed that something was 
 amiss, and replied, ‘ that she did not believe any 
 married man was so unreasonable.’ ‘ Well, then,’ 
 cried Lady Yasey, ‘ don’t be any longer in such a 
 mistake ; that gentleman is one of the number. 
 Wishing to visit London, I asked his consent in the 
 civilest manner I could devise; yet he has the 
 cruelty to refuse me.’ 
 
 ‘ His lordship was thunderstruck, and concluded 
 he had married one of the worst of her sex. He 
 retired without deigning to make a reply, and went 
 directly in great grief, to consult with the vis- 
 countess. 
 
 ‘ The viscountess found her daughter preparing 
 
3S6 rosina;or, 
 
 for her journey ; and on remonstrating with her 
 she was told that she had no business to interfere 
 with affairs that did not concern her. ‘ I have not 
 married,’ said she, ‘ to become a slave. My hus- 
 band has begun to give himself monstrous airs ; 
 but I will teach him to respect the rights of a wife.’ 
 Her old nurse happening to blame her conduct, 
 was dismissed her service on the spot. The car- 
 riage was soon ready ; and Lady Vasey drove off, 
 accompanied by her own maid, and her footman. 
 
 ‘ The viscountess sent for his lordship by express, 
 who returned home filled with surprise and cha- 
 grin. His mother-in-law was too sensible of the 
 justice of his resentment to make any apology for 
 such behaviour ; she pitied him, and advised him 
 to follow, and to use all the reasoning and powers 
 he possessed, in order to bring his wife back to a 
 sense of her duty. 
 
 ‘ Near the end of the second stage, Lord Vasey 
 saw his own carriage. His lady discovered that 
 she was pursued, and therefore drove rapidly for- 
 ward to the inn where she proposed to dine. His 
 lordship also alighted, and advanced towards the 
 dining-room, but was intercepted by the landlord, 
 who asked him what he wanted. ‘ I am come to 
 dine with my own lady,’ answered he, in a passion. 
 * Must a man undergo an examination before he be 
 permitted to enter a paltry country inn?’ ‘Sir, 
 replied Boniface, ‘ you need not give yourself such 
 fierce airs. However paltry my inn may be, it is 
 not intended to accommodate madmen who fancy 
 themselves married to ladies who know nothing 
 about them.’ 
 
 ‘ Provoked at this impertinence, his lordship lost 
 his temper, and knocked the landlord down. The 
 landlady bawled for help ; and in a moment the 
 passage was filled with people, who seized his 
 lordship, and handled him very roughly. 
 
 ‘ When the landlord found that his opponent was 
 secured, he became very loud in his threats ; and as 
 the curate, and his clerk, respected his strong ale, 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 357 
 
 they joined in echoing his sentiments. Every one 
 deposed something to prove the insanity of the ag- 
 gressor ; and the more vehemently his lordship de- 
 fended himself, the more convinced were his judges 
 that he should be prevented from doing further 
 mischief. It was agreed that he should be locked 
 up until next day, when the charge of the assault 
 could be legally preferred. 
 
 ‘ When two countrymen advanced to take hold 
 of Lord Vasey, he swore that he would annihilate 
 the first man that dared to touch him. ‘ I am a 
 peer of the realm, and hold an ofiice in his majesty’s 
 household. All the principal gentry in Notting- 
 hamshire know me well ; and they also know that 
 the lady up stairs is my lawful spouse. That car- 
 riage is mine, and bears my coat of arms.’ A 
 general laugh followed ; but the curate said, ‘ My 
 good friends, we should rather pity than laugh at 
 a fellow creature deprived of reason, the best gift 
 of God, It is our duty to prevent him from doing 
 any mischief ; so you had better close upon him at 
 once, but do not hurt him.’ They took his lordship 
 to the Cage, or prison. 
 
 ‘Lady Vasey having paid the innkeeper very 
 generously, she called her coachman. ‘ John, you 
 must put the horses to directly ; I think they can 
 go another stage.’ John stood still. ‘ What do 
 you wait for, sirrah ?’ — ‘ Why, please your ladyship 
 I was going to say — how— as if^r-our poor master 
 is not going with us.’ — ‘You impertinent fellow, 
 how dare you make any remarks on my orders ?’ — 
 ‘ I don’t want to be saucy ; but if you leave your 
 own flesh and blood locked up in that nasty hole, 
 why you may drive yourself, for 1 11 be d — d if I 
 do.’ She rung for the innkeeper, who procured 
 her a coachman ; and she drove forwards on her 
 journey. 
 
 ‘ In the meantime, the discarded seivant ran to 
 expostulate with the curate, upon the injustice of 
 his behaviour towards a gentleman of rank and 
 fortune. But the clergyman head conversed with 
 
358 rosina; or, 
 
 her ladyship, who had won upon his esteem. The 
 coachman, seeing a York coach passing, mounted 
 the box beside his brother of the whip, and about 
 midnight reached the castle, and communicated to 
 the vicountess the strange adventure. 
 
 ‘ The viscountess was deeply afflicted at this in- 
 telligence, and early next morning set out to obtain 
 the release of her son-in-law. She drove to the 
 curate’s house, who was surprised at her visit, and 
 not less ashamed of his own credulity when the 
 blunder was exposed. Lord Yasey was instantly 
 liberated, with a thousand apologies. After thank- 
 ing the vicountess for her concern, he solemnly 
 declared his firm resolution never to see her 
 daughter more. 
 
 ‘ But how weak are the resolutions of man, un- 
 der the influence of women! As soon as Lady 
 Yasey found that her husband had pledged himself 
 to discard her, she resolved to use her utmost en- 
 deavours to affect a reconciliation. She adopted 
 every possible scheme to ensure success. She 
 begged pardon, humbled herself to the dust, 
 and signified her resolution not to survive her 
 folly, but to hide her shame in the dark tomb. 
 His lordship forgave all freely, and received her 
 again without reproach. 
 
 ‘They lived on tolerable good terms for some 
 months; when Lady Vasey presented her lord 
 with a son and heir. After this, her conduct be- 
 came insufferable. He had a brother, who was 
 captain of the Diamond frigate, and had been 
 abroad nearly fifteen years. At Cadiz he married 
 the daughter of a Spanish merchant ; after which, 
 being ordered to England, he hastened to embrace 
 his brother, and present his wife to him and his 
 sister-in-law. The meeting was cordial and affect- 
 ing ; but when his lordship turned to present his 
 brother, to his infinite surprise he found that Lady 
 Vasey had left the room. However, making some 
 excuse, he went in search of her ladyship. ‘ He 
 immediately returned, and apologized for the ab- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 359 
 
 sence of his lady, on account of indisposition and 
 nervousness. His lordship treated his lady with a 
 coldness and reserve. One day, when returning 
 from hunting, he saw a servant pass, 4 Where are 
 you going, Peter ?’ asked his lordship. — ‘To put a 
 big letter into the -post, your honour.’ — ‘A big 
 letter!’ said he, ‘ why, is it from our exciseman?’ 
 — ‘ No, it is from your own lady, under submission.’ 
 His lordship saw the letter w r as addressed to the 
 Secretary of State. He broke the seal, and found 
 it contained information against himself, in which 
 he was described as a w T riter of libels and lampoons 
 against the ministry. He was astonished; nor 
 could he discover her ladyship’s motives for so 
 gratuitous a piece of wickedness. 
 
 ‘Having enjoined silence, he returned home, 
 packed up his most valuable papers and cash, and, 
 entering his coach, proceeded direct to London. 
 Here he instantly commenced a suit against his 
 wife, and finally succeeded in obtaining a separa- 
 tion from her; though she has opposed the decree 
 by a counter-plea, alleging cruelty and deprivation 
 of conjugal rights against her husband. The vis- 
 countess was obliged to take her back to the castle, 
 where she now lives hated.’ 
 
 Three days after my arrival, I received a letter 
 from Lady Beckford, inclosing the hundred pound 
 bill I left in my bureau. She regretted the dis- 
 agreeable adventure to which I had been subjected, 
 lamented the follies of her sister, and begged me 
 to return to town forthwith. I sent Peggy to get 
 smaller notes for my large bill. Then I sent for 
 my father, and said, ‘ I am told, sir, that you want 
 a horse and cart. Here are twenty pounds to pur- 
 chase a horse, and ten more to pay for a cart, which 
 I give you on condition that you never mention 
 this out of your own family, or attempt to thank 
 me for it. It is certainly my duty to help an hon- 
 est, industrious, man, which I am sure you are.’ 
 My father stood speechless, he mustered sufli- 
 
SCO rosina; or, 
 
 cient presence of mind to begin an acknowledge- 
 ment. ‘ Your great goodness is most ’ ‘ Nay/ 
 
 said I, interrupting him, 1 you are going to break 
 your engagement already. Say no more. — Will it 
 rain to-night, do you suppose ?’ Thus I diverted 
 him from the subject, and saved myself the pain of 
 hearing compliments and thanks, which I did not 
 merit, from my own father. 
 
 The next morning, I said to Peggy, ‘ You had 
 company down stairs last night. Remember, that 
 on such occasions you are free to take a bottle of 
 my wine.’ — Oh! madam/ replied she, ‘you make 
 us joyful enough without wine. My poor brother 
 and sister declared that they could not sleep until 
 they had sent for their daughter and her husband, 
 Bob Danby, to share in their happiness.’ — ‘ Who is 
 this Robert Danby?’ said I.— ‘He is, madam, my 
 niece’s husband; a man very well to do in the 
 world, though rather churly and close-fisted. He 
 never offered to help forward his poor father-in- 
 law ; so, I dare say, he rather thought shame last 
 night to find that a stranger had been kinder than 
 he.’ 
 
 I continued to live here a retired life for a few 
 days. I never went to church ; and when I walk- 
 ed out, I was closely veiled. My sister threw her- 
 self in my way several times ; but I always suc- 
 ceeded in eluding her scrutinizing glances. Indeed 
 I very seldom saw any one except Peggy, and 
 spent most of my time in reading, or in reflections 
 on my dear Remington. 
 
 One morning, while walking in the garden Peggy 
 came to inform me that a man on horseback had ar- 
 rived with a letter for me. I requested her to send 
 him to me, in the bower. He appeared, wrapped up 
 in a great coat, with a broad-brimmed hat, and a 
 black patch above his eve-brow ; and I gave him a 
 half-crown, and bid him refresh himself 9,t the 
 ale-house. I then opened the letter, which inclosed 
 another, in which I read, ‘ The bearer will tell you 
 the rest.’— ‘Ah!’ exclaimed I, ‘he is gone; and 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 331 
 
 ran after the messenger ; when, O heavens ! I 
 found my dear Lemington at my feet! Over- 
 whelmed with joy, I threw myself about his neck, 
 and remained speechless until relieved by tears. 
 
 The earl was alarmed at my agitation, and placed 
 me gently upon the seat, while he begged pardon 
 for having surprised me. When I had become 
 calmer, I said, ‘ Then it is not true that they beat 
 your eye out P — but you must have been desperate- 
 ly wounded in your eye-brow. Nor have you lost 
 your right arm ; are you now out of danger ? Oh ! 
 how I have suffered in thinking of your wounds !’ 
 The earl looked confused. ‘ Really, my dear,* 
 said he, ‘ I know not what you allude to. I have 
 had no fevers, nor have I lost an arm or an eye.’ — 
 ‘Then it is all false,’ said I. “Well, now you 
 make me happy indeed.’ — ‘ But what story is it 
 that you have heard respecting me ?’ — ‘ Well then, 
 my dear earl, you must know that when I was in 
 
 that horrid ’ After a pausa, I said, ‘ J had 
 
 such horrid dreams, from a report I read of your 
 shipwreck, and ill usage by savage men on the 
 coast of America.’ — ‘ Oh ! I understand you,’ said 
 he, with a grave smile ; ‘ but the story was false, 
 
 CHAPTER XII, 
 
 A FTER breakfast I expressed my surprise at the 
 earl having discovered the place of my retreat ; 
 on which he related his adventures as follows * 
 ‘ Having dispatched my business in America, I em- 
 barked on board the Liffey sloop of war, and, after 
 a quick passage of only twenty days, landed at 
 Falmouth, and proceeded to London ; I then drove 
 direct to the house of the Earl of Glenford, and 
 stayed during the night ; and, early next morning, 
 called upon Lady Beckford. When I heard her 
 relation, I was overpowered with alarm. She was 
 firmly convinced that your sudden disappearance 
 was involuntary. She had learned that, just be^ 
 fore your disappearance, you had saved a young 
 
362 rosina; or, 
 
 female from ruin. Lady Beckford found this 
 person at her own surgeon’s, from whom she learn- 
 ed that you were carried down to Colonel Donglas’ 
 house in Berwickshire. 
 
 ‘ My resolution was instantly formed. I return- 
 ed to my uncle’s, and, after apologizing for my ab- 
 sence during a few days, took post for the north. 
 When entering my chaise at York, to my great 
 surprise I saw Captain Ross, stepping out of the 
 Edinburgh mail. He was delighted with this un- 
 expected meeting; and when he understood the 
 purport of my journey, he expressed his determin- 
 ation to accompany me. I accepted his offer with 
 pleasure, and we proceeded northwards. At Ber- 
 wick we made every possible inquiry respecting the 
 colonel, but nobody knew where he was. Mad 
 with the cant and nonsense of the wise men of Ber- 
 wick, we turned our backs upon the place, and rode 
 up the Tweed to the colonel’s country residence. 
 
 ‘ Here we learned that he had never appeared at 
 his own mansion-house, nor could any one tell 
 where he resided. Seeing a crowd of persons 
 around a farm-house, we rode up, and found that 
 it was a roup, or sale by auction, of the corn, hay, 
 and farming utensils of the late Mr. Kerr, whose 
 daughter you rescued from death in London. We 
 joined the group, and I inquired of the spectators, 
 where the deceased farmer’s daughter now lived. 
 ‘ Why, sir,’ said an old man, ‘ she’s in the deil’s ain 
 place— that wicked Vanity .Fair, ca’d London, 
 whare the Holy Covenant is trampled under foot 
 like an unclean thing. But the place suits sic like 
 cattle.’ — 1 1 thought that Miss Kerr was a very vir- 
 tuous girl,’ said I.’ — ‘Virtuous!’ echoed a woman, 
 1 guid troth, she was not o’erburdened even wi’ the 
 carnal quality o’ virtue ; and it was the pride o’ 
 being a Miss that ruined her at last.’ — ‘Whisht! 
 Eft’y,’ said a young man, ‘ dinna judge, lest you be 
 judged. She maun answer for her ain sins. She 
 was a bonnie lassie, an’ if she’s been misled, the 
 mair’s the pity.’ Weary of this talk, I asked if 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 3^3 
 
 they knew where Colonel Douglas now lived. 
 Auid Tibby at the Ha’ can tell ye a’ about his hon- 
 our,’ said one. Captain Ross and I turned our 
 horses’ heads towards his honour’s hall. 
 
 4 The house appeared deserted. Finding no en- 
 try at this place, we pushed open a door which led 
 into a small back-court or yard. After rapping at 
 the back-door for a few minutes, it was cautiously 
 opened by an old woman. 4 Well, Tibby,’ said I, 
 pushing past her, 4 where is his honour, your mas- 
 ter ?’ — 4 What’s your wull, sir 'f inquired she. — 4 We 
 want to see Colonel Douglas,’ replied I. 4 Oh !’ 
 said she, 4 you want to see his honour !’ 4 He’s no 
 
 here, an’ that’s a’ I ken.’ — ‘Tibby,’ said Captain 
 Ross, 4 you must not trifle with the king’s messen- 
 gers. Here is a letter,’ said he, pulling out a sealed 
 packet, ‘from the king’s most sacred majesty ; and 
 it is at the peril of your life you stop the king’s 
 business.’ Tibby was one of those sly, evasive 
 people, who pretend to be deaf ; but she heard 
 every word, and she trembled in every limb. I 
 roared out, 4 Speak the truth, woman, or go before 
 the sheriff this very hour.’ — 4 Weel, I was thinking 
 that the colonel wad be about the auld Ha’ o’ the 
 Haliburtons, by the Blackadder.’ — 4 If your infor- 
 mation be false,’ said I, 4 you shall feel the weight 
 of our vengeance.’ — 4 Gentlemen,’ replied she, 4 ye 
 are unco ill to please. Didna I mysel leave the Ha’ 
 no aboon a month ago ? an’ am I no like to ken the 
 truth ?’ — 4 Then where is the young lady,’ asked I, 
 eagerly, 4 that accompanied the colonel from Lon- 
 don ?’ — 4 1 always thought that was a secret.’ — 
 4 You have not answered my question,’ rejoined I. 
 — ‘An’ how can I answer for what’s duin behin’ 
 my back ? I left the lady there ; but where she 
 may be now, God only knows.’ 
 
 4 We rode smartly on, in search of the place men- 
 tioned. On riding up the avenue leading to the 
 house, we met a carriage, in which a gentleman in 
 military uniform was seated. 4 That is he,’ exclaim- 
 ed Captain Ross. — 4 Stop,’ cried I to the postillion. 
 
364 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 4 Drive on,’ vociferated the gentleman ; and the 
 boy began to flog his horses, on which I knocked 
 him down with my whip. Two men on horseback 
 accompanied the carriage, one of whom exclaimed, 
 pulling out a blunderbus, ‘ By the powers, if you 
 stop our way, I’ll blow your brains out.’ I gave 
 him such a blow on the arm as made him to drop 
 his weapon. Then I said to the gentleman inside, 
 ‘ Your name is Douglas, I presume ?’ — 4 It is, sir,’ 
 said he.-r-‘ And my name is G-lenford,’ rejoined I. 
 4 Pray, descend.’ 
 
 4 4 What is the meaning of this interruption ?’ de- 
 manded the colonel. 4 1 have no affair with you.’ 
 — 4 Yes, but you and I have an account to settle. 
 — > 4 What weapons do you choose.?’ said the colonel. 
 — 4 Which you please,’ replied 1 : 4 but I wear a 
 sword.’— 4 So do I,’ said he. 
 
 4 We stepped into an adjoining field. You, Ro- 
 sina, were my guardian angel. The colonel fought 
 with uncommon skill, and wounded me slightly. 
 At length he fell. As I held my sword to his breast, 
 I demanded where you were. 4 1 am,’ said the 
 colonel, 4 a dying man ; and the hope of procrasti- 
 nating life a few hours shall not induce me to make 
 you my confessor,’ — ‘Live, colonel,’ said I, 4 1 de- 
 sire not your death ; but I will not leave this place 
 until I see Miss Hawkins,’— 4 You are a brave man, 
 my lord,’ replied he ; 4 but, upon my honour, J 
 know not where the lady you mention is. I cerr 
 tainly had designs upon her ; but she has escaped 
 without injury.’ Captain Ross and the colonel’s 
 servants now came up, We raised up the wounded 
 man, and Ross made him a kind of litter with his 
 large travelling cloak, while a servant was sent for 
 a surgeon. We then carried the colonel to his 
 house. We used our utmost efforts to stop the 
 bleeding of his wounds ; but in a very short time 
 the surgeon arrived. Before the surgeon left the 
 room, the colonel signed that he wanted to speak 
 to him. 4 Doctor, whispered he, 4 say not a word. 
 Let me bid the world q, silent good night. The 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 3P>5 
 
 private quarrels of friends are not fit subjects for 
 public gossip.’ He then whispered to me, ‘ My 
 lord, you have acted like a man of honour ; Rosina 
 is worthy of you. I freely forgive you, and I beg 
 her pardon. Be happy together. The paths of 
 virtue are the paths of happiness ; but I have not 
 been convinced of this truth until it is too late. I 
 tried to speak ; but my heart was too full. All my 
 anger was converted into sympathy for the suffer- 
 ings of a fallen enemy. 
 
 ‘ The surgeon, Captain Ross, and I, left the 
 house together. I entreated the surgeon to tell me 
 whether he considered the colonel to be in danger. 
 He said that the danger was great, but not imme- 
 diate. On coming to the highway, Captain Ross 
 said we should feel obliged in being directed to the 
 nearest good inn. 
 
 ‘ The surgeon replied that the best was a few 
 miles north, and could not be reached without 
 riding back, and passing a long dreary common. 
 But gentlemen, if you will honour me with your 
 company, I can introduce you into a friend’s house, 
 near my own cottage, who will esteem your visit 
 a favour.’ Captain Ross accepted the offer cheer- 
 fully, and we rode quickly forwards. The colonel 
 had certainly behaved ill ; but I had not given him 
 the opportunity of offering any explanation. My 
 friend Ross had interrogated the servants respect- 
 ing you, and they all averred that you had escaped 
 from the window at night. Whither had you fled? 
 Where might you be wandering ? What dangers 
 and privations were you suffering ? Thus a thou- 
 sand painful reflections and fears crowded upon 
 my mind, and produced great mental agony. The 
 surgeon frequently eyed me ; and at length he rode 
 up by my side, saying, in a low tone, 1 1 fear, sir, 
 you are unwell.’ — ‘ A little qualm, which will soon 
 pass over,’ said I. — ‘ But you are wounded in the 
 body, sir,’ observed he, seeing some blood trickling 
 down from my waistcoat : ‘ why did you not in- 
 form me of this when I dressed your brow ?’ — ‘ It 
 
366 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 is only a scratch,’ replied I. — ‘ Well,’ said he, ‘ we 
 are within a mile of our destination, when I hope 
 all things will be put to rights.’ 
 
 ‘ In the evening we entered a delightful village, 
 on the banks of the Tweed. We alighted at a 
 handsome house, and a gentleman advanced to 
 meet us. ‘ I have brought — ’ said our medical at- 
 tendant. — ‘ Ah !’ interrupted the gentleman, ‘ my 
 lord ! my friend ! is this really you ? What an un- 
 expected happiness ! What ! and Captain Ross too ! 
 now I am doubly blessed.’ His sweet beautiful 
 wife stood beside him. Our introduction to St. 
 Agnes — the inestimable Mrs. Forbes — was really 
 affecting. I perceived tears in the eyes of the sur- 
 geon, Mr. Drysdale. 
 
 I immediately rose, as I felt the blood flowing 
 freely, and left the room, preceded by Mr. Forbes. 
 On entering the bed-chamber, he smiled and said, 
 4 No person has occupied that bed since Rosina left 
 us.’ — ‘ Rosina !’ exclaimed I ; 4 has she been here ? 
 Where is she now ?’ — ‘ Oh ! she is safe in a retired 
 part of Nottinghamshire.’ The surgeon then ex- 
 amined my wound, and assured me that it would 
 be well in a few days. 
 
 ‘ Perhaps, Mr. Forbes,’ said Mr. Drysdale, 4 will 
 permit me to explain the cause of this meeting at 
 present. You must know then, my lord, that when 
 Miss Hawkins, by a most surprising exertion of 
 courage and agility, escaped from the fangs of this 
 monster, she fortunately wandered to this vil- 
 lage, and accidentally sought, amongst strangers, 
 the protection of her warmest friends and admirers. 
 Here she remained for a few days ; but the colonel 
 at length, through his numerous spies, discovered 
 the place of her retreat, when, in order to be assur- 
 ed of the fact, he made a pretended friendly call 
 upon Mr. Forbes. As soon as Rosina found that 
 her persecutor had suspected the place of her 
 abode, she resolved, with a spirit, courage, and 
 delicacy truly admirable, to quit the hospitable 
 roof of her friends ; and, notwithstanding the 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 307 
 
 prayers and entreaties of us all, she mounted my 
 horse, and, accompanied by Mr. Forbes, rode to 
 Berwick, during a most dreadfully stormy night. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Next day the colonel and two servants took 
 lodgings at the public house in the village. In the 
 evening, one of his servants, an Irishman, named 
 M’Curdy, slipped into the kitchen, and insinuated 
 himself into the confidence of a young girl, as to 
 discover that the young lady and her master had 
 gone to Berwick on the preceding evening, and that 
 her master had just returned without her. Mr. 
 Forbes uaw the fellow leave his house, and soon 
 discovered the information he had obtained. Next 
 morning the same servant called upon Mr. Forbes, 
 with a note from his master ; when he was most 
 unceremoniously kicked out of doors.’ 
 
 ‘ Here we remained some days, partaking of the 
 cheerful hospitality of our inestimable friends. My 
 slight wounds quickly healed ; but, on the third 
 Mr. Drysdale informed us that the colonel was 
 worse, that he had settled all his worldly affairs, 
 and was perfectly resigned to his fate. He had re- 
 fused any other medical assistance, and had writ- 
 ten several letters to his friends, to be delivered af- 
 ter his death. When I left, he was still alive ; but 
 there remained no hopes of his recovery. 
 
 ‘Captain Ross and I now took leave of our 
 friends, and posted southwards, so as to suit our 
 own convenience. My friend has gone to London. 
 I ought to add that, before my departure, Mrs. 
 Forbes received your interesting letter; and we 
 were all much diverted at the account of your 
 journey, and your reception amongst your friends. 
 
 I have given the earl’s narrative without noticing 
 the interruptions and emotions that broke forth in 
 various parts. I looked upon his lordship with 
 augmented esteem and affection. I thought he 
 had become firmer and stronger, while his last ad- 
 venture on my behalf, gave him a manliness of as- 
 pect, which is always pleasing to the eyes of women. 
 He had fought and bled in my defence, and was 
 
368 
 
 rosina; or, 
 
 therefore doubly entitled to become my natural 
 and legal protector. 
 
 After dinner, I expressed my apprehensions lest 
 he had endangered himself by travelling so far be- 
 fore his wound was perfectly easy ; but he re-as- 
 sured me that his recovery was nearly completed, 
 and that the delightful pleasure of again beholding 
 me would accelerate the operations of nature. Thus 
 we again resumed the language of love and tender- 
 ness. I know not how long we might have in- 
 dulged in the luxury of a virtuous affection, had 
 not prudence whispered the propriety of termina- 
 ting the visit. His lordship wished to prolong it ; 
 but I was inexorable, and, calling Peggy, bade her 
 order my brother’s horse to be got ready. He 
 smiled, and whispered, ‘ That is an excellent de- 
 vice. Under this impression, I may repeat my 
 visits without suspicion.’ I received his tender and 
 ardent embrace, and bade him good night. When 
 he rode off, I followed him with my eyes as long as 
 he was visible. I was satisfied that my lover’s pas- 
 sion was sincere, ardent, and immovable. 
 
 My reflections were interrupted by the entrance 
 of Peggy. ‘ I’m sorry, madam,’ said she, ‘ that we 
 could not accommodate your relative properly. It’s 
 a pity he had to go back to the inn.’ — ‘He will 
 think nothing of that, Peggy,’ replied I.— ‘ Sure,’ 
 she observed, ‘ he’s a noble-looking gentleman. I 
 could have sworn he was your brother, for he is 
 your very picture ; only he is a man, and a little 
 older than you. — Your mother must have had a 
 fine-looking family of children P’ she added, with a 
 significant look. 
 
 Next day the earl walked to our house ; and as 
 the day was fine, we strolled into a little wood, 
 round the skirts of which ran a crystal stream. 
 The birds warbled most delightfully on the boughs ; 
 while we walked, hand in hand, enjoying that 
 species of exquisite pleasure which cannot be de- 
 scribed. Sometimes we sat under the shadowy 
 branches of a tree, and during one of our walks, I 
 
TITE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATR. ?>C ) 9 
 
 accidentally discovered that the two hundred pound 
 Bank of England notes, which I had received, en- 
 closed in an anonymous letter at Stockwell, were 
 sent by Captain Ross, at the request of my dear 
 Lemington. This relieved my mind from much 
 anxiety ; but the earl could not prevail upon me to 
 accept of another present in cash. 
 
 On the morning of next day I saw him riding up 
 to the house. I hurried to receive him, and in- 
 stantly saw that grief and disappointment were de- 
 picted in his looks. 4 My dear Rosina,’ said he, 4 I 
 have just received an unwelcome summons to town. 
 It has been brought express by one of the Earl of 
 Glenford’s servants. How his lordship has disco- 
 vered that I am here, I know not. There must be 
 treachery somewhere. Ross, I know, would not 
 violate my injunctions.’ — 4 This is really strange,’ 
 observed I ; ‘ but pray who has issued the sum- 
 mons ?’— 4 It is the under-secretary of state,’ replied 
 he. — ‘ Yes,’ exclaimed I, * my happiness was too 
 great to last. Some fearful blow is, I fear, im- 
 pending. You are again to be torn from me ; and 
 my heart can never bear another violent and long 
 separation.’ — 4 No, my angel,’ said Lemington, with 
 his most enchanting smile, 4 1 now defy the malice 
 of fortune. I have done my duty to my king and 
 country most zealously ; but I certainly owe some- 
 thing to myself — and to you. 
 
 I accepted these assurances of his love, and we 
 parted in silence and in tears. The earl also was 
 very deeply affected. As he mounted his horse, I 
 heard my mother say, 4 This is like brother and 
 sister indeed. See how fond they are of each other !’ 
 I could have laughed at this, if my heart had not 
 been so overwhelmed with grief. 4 Ah !’ said I to 
 myself, ‘when shall I see this dear man again? 
 Peggy strove, but without effect, to divert me, and 
 at night I could not sleep. 
 
 Peggy, in order to comfort me, said, 4 The best 
 of brothers are fond of teazing their sisters. I dare 
 say, madam, your brother loves you very much, 
 
 X 
 
370 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 and would not have been so cruel as to hide the 
 secret from you if he could have foreseen your suf- 
 ferings.’ — * The secret, Peggy !’ exclaimed I, ‘what 
 secret do you mean ?’ — ‘ Why the secret that his 
 honour told me.’— ‘ He tell you a secret !’ — ‘ Then, 
 madam, your brother did tell me a secret ; which I 
 would not have mentioned, if my word had not 
 been doubted. When he was waiting yesterday 
 morning until you were dressed, he called me to 
 him, and said, in the sweetest manner possible, 
 ‘ Peggy,’ said he, ‘ you are a good servant, and I’ll 
 never forget you slipping a paper into my hand, 
 which contained five guineas. He then said, in his 
 funny way you know, ‘ Your friends have been 
 kind to my sister ; and I hope you will make her 
 cheerful, and keep her from moping. Give your 
 brother that,’ said he, jerking a purse into my lap, 
 with twenty golden guineas, and then whispered, 
 
 ‘ I will see you soon ; but be silent, or ’ Just 
 
 then, you opened the door and I ran off. ‘ But where 
 is the secret V asked I. — ‘ Now, mistress,’ said Peggy, 
 ‘ you have a mind to joke with a poor body. Did 
 not your brother as good as say that he would be 
 back directly?’ — ‘Poh!’ said I. Yet the story 
 pleased me. I was glad that he had noticed my 
 parents in such a delicate way, and that they par- 
 took in my wishes for his speedy return. 
 
 In the evening, my mother asked permission to 
 bear me company. I requested her to walk up 
 stairs. After some trifling conversation, I asked 
 her if any more company had arrived at the castle. 
 ‘ No, madam,’ replied she, ‘ there are no strangers 
 now at the castle ; and Lady Yasev has gone to 
 London with her servants, to defend herself in the 
 courts against her husband, who is determined to 
 obtain a divorce. The night before she set off, she 
 sent a servant for my husband \ but he excused 
 himself, as he learned from the servant that it was 
 merely to ask questions respecting you. 
 
 ‘ Your neighbours,’ said I, ‘have behaved very 
 politely. They have not made impertinent inqui- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 371 
 
 ries respecting me.’ — ‘ Why, yes, excepting our old 
 landlord,’ replied she ; ‘ he has been rather trouble- 
 some. He is a Scotchman, and his name is Flem- 
 ing.’— ‘ Fleming !’ exclaimed I, ‘ why, I never heard 
 of any gentleman of property of that name in this 
 shire.’ — ‘ If you please, madam,’ said my mother, 
 ‘ I will tell yon how he came here ; and perhaps 
 the story will divert you.’ 
 
 ‘ This Mr. Fleming came from Scotland a very 
 poor man ; but he soon learned the art of collecting 
 heaps of money. He married one Miss Honeyman, 
 a play-actress, who, even after marriage, indulged 
 in all kinds of extravagance and vice. He sought 
 a divorce. But he came to this village, to inquire 
 after the girl he at first intended to marry, and 
 whether it was possible he could still obtain her. 
 His inquiries did not prove satisfactory. Hearing 
 that his estate was for sale, he purchased it. Shortly 
 after, he came down with Mrs. Fleming, a recon- 
 ciliation having taken place. 
 
 ‘It was Mr. Fleming who prevailed upon my 
 husband to take this little farm. My son-in-law, 
 Robert Danby, is also one of his tenants. Under 
 various pretexts, he often visited my son’s farm- 
 house, and talked on a variety of subjects. But 
 his impatience hurried him on too rapidly ; and 
 when my daughter found tha/t he wished her to 
 prove unfaithful to her husband, she positively de- 
 clared that, if ever he renewed his solicitations, she 
 would complain to her husband. Fleming could 
 not believe that she was sincere. He thought she 
 only wanted to raise her price, and to teach him to 
 choose better opportunities. He resolved to renew 
 his suit in another manner ; but still, for fear of 
 Danby, he promised not to molest her again. 
 
 ‘ Next week, Danby and his man set off to Not- 
 tingham, with two waggon loads of bark. This 
 journey usually occupied three days. On the even- 
 ing of the first day, a countryman came in Danby’ s 
 name, desiring her to repair immediately to a farm- 
 house, eight miles distant, where he lay very ill, in 
 
372 rosin a; or, 
 
 consequence of a fall from the shafts of his waggon ; 
 as he wished her to go to Nottingham, to receive 
 the cash owing him. My daughter was grieved at 
 this bad news, but she set oif with the messengers 
 without delay. 
 
 Fleming disguised himself as a husbandman, and 
 told the landlady, a half-witted woman, that his 
 wife’s conduct had been Very suspicious ; and that 
 he was resolved to put her virtue to the trial, by 
 pretending to go a journey, and now sending for 
 her in the name of her gallant. I will receive her 
 up stairs in the dark, lest* knowing me, she should 
 cry out for fear of being beat. The landlady 
 laughed heartily at the stratagem, and said that 
 neither she nor her maid would either meddle or 
 make. Fleming was quite elated, and ordered up 
 stairs into the only chamber in the house his hostess* 
 rum-bottle, where he drank freely, to raise his 
 spirits. 
 
 ‘ In the meantime, Danby had sold his bark to a 
 tanner, and having procured a good price, he return- 
 ed pleased, and stopped at this public house, for re- 
 freshment. He was scarcely seated, when his wife 
 entered, and threw herself about his neck. ‘ Ah ! 
 my dear Robert,’ she cried, ‘ how do you find your- 
 self? You ought not to sit drinking here after 
 such a fall.* 
 
 ‘ Danby stared in wonder. ‘Faith! wife,’ what 
 brought you hither ? What do you mean by a fall ? 
 — ‘ Why, do you imagine that I only dreamt of your 
 fall from the waggon, and that you were much 
 bruised, and have been bled? John Nixon here 
 
 ’ But on turning around, Nixon, Fleming’s 
 
 messenger, had fled. Robert instantly suspected a 
 snake in the grass. ‘We will unravel this plot,* 
 said he ; ‘ and fear not but we will protect you.’ 
 
 ‘ In a few minutes, the landlady and her maid, 
 entered. The maid, seeing a strange woman sit- 
 ting alone, slipped up stairs, and awakened Mr. 
 Fleming, who was asleep in an arm-chair. ‘ There 
 is a woman below,’ said she ; 1 perhaps the one you 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 373 
 
 expected.’ — ‘ Did she come on horseback, with 
 another man ?’ inquired he. — The maid answered 
 in the affirmative. — ‘ Is she pretty ?’ — ‘ Yes, I think 
 she is tolerable,’ said the maid. — ‘Bid her walk 
 up,’ said he, ‘it is my wife.’ 
 
 ‘ The girl then whispered in my daughter’s ear, 
 ‘He is up stairs. The door is at the right hand.’ 
 On entering the room, Fleming caught her in his 
 arms, and whispered, ‘ It is your lover — your land- 
 lord Fleming — a stratagem of love— am well sup- 
 plied with yellow boys, and — — ’ My daughter 
 said nothing, but kept struggling to extricate her- 
 self ; when her husband and his man entered with 
 a light, each armed with a good cudgel. Danby 
 knew his landlord in his disguise ; but this he con- 
 cealed, and belaboured him most unmercifully. 
 ‘ So, you country lout,’ he exclaimed, * this is the 
 way you keep the commandments ! This is your 
 aping of great folk ! But I’ll take the conceit out 
 of you.’ Fleming roared out lustily, and begged 
 for mercy on his knees ; but nothing availed him 
 until Danby’s wrath was satisfied. 
 
 This story amused me much ; and I could not 
 help admiring the delicacy with which my mother 
 had alluded to Fleming’s attempt to marry me. 
 From respect to her daughter, she avoided even 
 naming her; though many poor mothers would 
 have been proud to have their daughters so highly 
 distinguished. 
 
 While sitting at breakfast next morning, I was 
 roused by the sound of a coach and the prancing of 
 horses. It stopped at the door. ‘ Heavens !’ ex- 
 claimed I, ‘ what can this mean ?’ My doubts were 
 soon cleared up, by the appearance of the Earl of 
 Glenford’s valet. He presented me with a note 
 which I opened with trembling hands, and read as 
 follows : — 
 
 ‘My charming Rosina,— hasten to town ; but come 
 alone. Come and consummate the happiness of your 
 unchangeable admirer.' 
 
 This note was in the hand-writing of Lemington ; 
 
374 rosina;or, 
 
 but why had he not written his proper signature, 
 and sent his own valet and carriage ? ‘Was the 
 Earl of Lemington at your master’s house when 
 you left P’ inquired I. — ‘ Yes, madam,* replied the 
 messenger, ‘and he saw me set off.’ I was satisfied. 
 ‘ Ah ! my sweet lady,’ said my mother, ‘ are we 
 
 f oing to lose you P*— ‘ Only for a very short time, 
 hope,’ said I, embracing her : ‘ be as happy as I 
 wish you.’ I then shook hands with my father, 
 whose very soul was moved with my endearing be- 
 haviour, and jumped into the vehicle. On turning 
 my head, I saw a well-dressed man on horseback, 
 who uncovered, and bowing, delivered to me a small 
 sealed packet. I was just about asking him from 
 whence he had come, when he galloped off ; and, 
 at the same moment, the carriage drove forwards 
 with rapidity. 
 
 When we had passed my native place, I opened 
 the packet. It contained a letter from Andrew 
 Hume, writer, Kelso. The writer inf ormed me that 
 the late Honourable Colonel Douglas, by will, had 
 directed the executors to sell his unentailed estates, 
 with all his furniture, goods, and chattels, to pay 
 his debts. He directs certain lagacies ; first, five 
 thousand pounds stock, in the five per cents, to be 
 transferred to Miss Ann Kerr ; secondly, his prints, 
 pictures, jewels, music, and musical instruments, 
 he bequeaths to Miss Rosina Hawkins, and which 
 he earnestly entreats her to accept as an atonement 
 for his injuries: thirdly, his sword and double- 
 barrelled rifle he gives to the Earl of Lemington, 
 as a token of his esteem. 
 
 I could not help sighing for the fate of this sin- 
 gular man. He possessed talents of the first order ; 
 but then his habits had been very early corrupted, 
 though his judgment remained strong and unim- 
 paired. His will evinced much good feeling, mixed 
 up with some portion of humour, or rather levity. 
 
 We travelled with surprising expedition, as a 
 servant rode before to order relays of horses. 
 Through the day, my thoughts were confused, my 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 375 
 
 mind was tortured with the fear of some approach- 
 ing calamity. In driving through London, we 
 found one street nearly blocked up with carriages, 
 in consequence of a fashionable rout given by a 
 banker’s rich widow. Our postillions drove foul of 
 a coach, and overturned it. The screams of the 
 ladies in the coach soon attracted a crowd ; while 
 their coachman and footman were cudgelling our 
 poor postillions without mercy. Pale and trem- 
 bling, I got out of the coach myself, as my attend- 
 ant was seeking for a hackney coach. I saw the 
 ladies raised from the overturned carriage ; and, to 
 my great surprise, one of them was Lady Vasey. 
 I instantly let my veil fall, to hide my face from 
 her curious glance : but it was too late. ‘ What !’ 
 she cried aloud, ‘ has that impudent hussey over- 
 turned my coach? A poor,. abandoned, country 
 puss, to be guilty of such insolence ! Here, watch, ’ 
 she said, ‘ I give you that woman in charge.’ The 
 guardian of the night advanced to take hold of me, 
 while I was ready to sink with terror. ‘Hold! 
 exclaimed a gentleman, darting forwards before 
 the watchman, ‘ that is a lady of respectability. I 
 will not suffer her to be insulted.’ It was the 
 Duke of Beaufort, and I gave him a look of thanks. 
 ‘Watchman,’ exclaimed Lady Yasey, ‘I insist upon 
 you doing your duty. Is a wretch who maliciously 
 overturns the carriage of a person of distinction, to 
 escape with impunity ?’ — ‘ I repeat,’ said his grace, 
 ‘ that this is a lady of respectability, and I will 
 protect her.’ — ‘Ah! ha! ha!’ cried Lady Yasey, 
 ‘A lady of distinction truly! A woodman's 
 daughter — a servant to my late father — unless she is 
 in keeping, which I do not doubt.’ ‘ It is very un- 
 becoming,’ said the duke, ‘ for a person to seek re- 
 venge in falsehoods and calumny. The lady is not 
 to blame if her awkward postillions have over- 
 turned a coach. Nobody is hurt — but this lady is 
 handsome, and that is sufficient to excite the malice 
 of certain people.’ 
 
 The crowd laughed at this conclusion. His grace 
 
37 6 ROSiffA ; or, 
 
 then begged I would do him the honour of walking 
 to his carriage. Lady Yasey, fearful of losing her 
 prey, slipped a piece of money into the watchman’s 
 hand. Then he followed us, saying, ‘ Sir, I cannot 
 permit that lady to depart. She must go before the 
 constable of the night;’ and he seized my arm 
 roughly. His grace pushed him off, and, as he 
 was lifting his staff to strike, knocked him down. 
 The man instantly sounded his rattle, and a num- 
 ber of watchmen ran forward: but I was soon 
 lifted into the coach ; and the driver galloped off. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 I ALIGHTED from the coach at the Earl of 
 Glenford’s house, after returning the Duke of 
 Beaufort my thanks for his polite attentions. Two 
 servants in livery ushered me into the saloon, 
 where Mr. Frazer waited to conduct me to the 
 apartment designed for me. Frazer took this op- 
 portunity to ask my pardon for his former imperti- 
 nence. The apartment was profusely magnificent : 
 the gilding, the sconces, and elegant pictures, shone 
 brilliantly on all sides. Yet I sat down under 
 great depression of spirits. Lemington — where 
 was my beloved Lemington ? Why was he not 
 ready to receive me ? Was he ill P Why have I 
 been whirled up to town so rapidly, and no one 
 appears to offer an explanation ? And this bad, 
 impudent, cunning man,. Frazer, too : is not his 
 presence ominous of evil ? 
 
 In a short time, the house-steward appeared, and 
 respectfully requested to know if I would have 
 supper served up. ‘ I want nothing,’ said I ; ‘ and 
 the greatest service you can do me is to permit me 
 to retire to rest.’ As soon as he had withdrawn, 
 two servants entered and spread the cloth, others 
 brought in various dishes, while two stationed 
 themselves in attendance. I was. amused at such 
 
 excess of ceremony; and in order to close the 
 scene ate a little, and then signified that I had 
 done. Every thing was removed as if by magic ; 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 377 
 
 and I was conducted to my bed-chamber. Here 1 
 found two women waiting near my toilet, in order 
 to assist in undressing me. One of them advanced 
 an easy chair the minute I appeared : the other 
 stood ready to attend me. 
 
 Being much fatigued, I suffered my attendants 
 to undress me, and the waiting-maids performed 
 their duty in respectful silence. When in bed, in- 
 stead of going to sleep, I tossed about, revolving in 
 my mind what had happened. At length, sleep 
 stole upon me ; but it was too disturbed to last long. 
 I slept only at different intervals. 
 
 The two waiting-maids whom I had dismissed 
 the night before entered the chamber and begged 
 leave to dress me, as his lordship desired the favour 
 of seeing me as soon as possible. This request re- 
 vived my spirits. 
 
 In a short time, a servant, genteelly dressed and 
 powdered, announced that he would conduct me to 
 nis lordship’s apartment. But judge of my disap- 
 pointment, when, instead of the Earl of Lemington, 
 full of health, youth, and love, I beheld the old 
 Earl of Glenford. But I concealed my vexation, 
 and paid my respects to his lordship. He received 
 ine with all that frankness and affability which he 
 knew so well how to assume. ‘ My lovely friend,’ 
 said he, * I rejoice to see you under my roof. You 
 have been most cruelly deceived, unjustly perse- 
 cuted, and outrageously calumniated. Now, I hope 
 your sufferings will end, and you will be as happy 
 as your merits deserve. You have sustained the 
 blows of misfortune with exemplary fortitude ; and 
 I flatter myself that you will bear this last one with 
 noble resignation.’ Then he gave me the following 
 letter, and withdrew. 
 
 ‘Miss Hawkins, 
 
 ‘The delirium of passion, the fascinations of beauty, 
 and the dreams of imagination, are dissipated. I am my- 
 self again. I have disturbed the tranquillity of my mind 
 —endangered my life— and despised the lofty pretensions 
 of my honourable house, in order to enjoy your favour. 
 
373 ROSIN A®, OR, 
 
 Reflection has opened my eyes to the folly of such sacri- 
 fices ; and I now bid you an eternal adieu. Captain Ross 
 approves of my resolution, and accompanies me into 
 Scotland, on a visit to a lady, whose birth, education, and 
 family, might entitle her to the hand of a prince. Look 
 not too high, Rosina, lest you fall. Should you ever be 
 in pecuniary distress, you are free to apply to 
 
 * Lemington.* 
 
 This letter rendered me insensible. I did not 
 weep — I did not faint— but I felt as if stupefied. I 
 stared about me, endeavouring to recollect where 
 I was. I even touched my arm, to assure myself 
 that I was alive and awake. The re-entrance of 
 Lord Glenford at length aroused me from this 
 stupor. 
 
 ‘ My regard for you,’ he said, ‘ was too intense to 
 suffer you to be left under the impression of being 
 abandoned by the world. Here you are lady of all, 
 and I am your humble admirer. I offer you my 
 hand and my fortune this very day : as for my 
 heart, it has been yours from the first hour I saw 
 you.’ In an indescribable agony of mind, I ex- 
 claimed, 4 Spare me, my lord ; and only suffer me 
 to retire.’ He touched a spring in the table, and a 
 servant instantly appeared. 4 Conduct this lady to 
 her chamber,’ said his lordship. 
 
 Tears now flowed, and I felt my head growing 
 clearer. Still I could not unravel this cruel mys- 
 tery. The letter was in the well-known hand of 
 the Earl of Lemington. Heavens! could it be that 
 he was unfaithful ? A suspicion crossed my mind, 
 that the unpolished manners and mean occupations 
 of my parents had disgusted him. The money he 
 had given before his departure was perhaps intend- 
 ed as a farewell offering. 
 
 A respectable-looking woman after appeared, 
 saying that Doctor Wardle had sent her to see his 
 prescriptions administered. ‘ And pray who may 
 you be ?’ asked I. The woman answered, ‘ I am 
 chief nurse in his lordship’s family ; a situation I 
 have held above twenty years.’ — ‘ I hope you will 
 hold it for twenty more,’ said 1 : 4 but really, good 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 
 
 379 
 
 woman, you can do me no service.’ — ‘ His lordship’s 
 orders must be obeyed,’ she replied.—* True,’ said 
 I, recollecting myself. 
 
 The many polite messages I received from his 
 lordship— the attendance of the physician, the 
 apothecary, and the nurse— ‘the audiences I had to 
 give to the steward — the numerous train of ser- 
 vants that flitted about me— and the inquiries of 
 my maids — all contributed to divert my mind from 
 the reflections that were perpetually recurring. 
 
 I retired early to rest, when I gave full scope to 
 my tears. * Great God ! what have I done,’ said I, 
 to merit this complication of suffering? Am I 
 then separated for ever from the only being whom 
 I ever loved ? Am I to be sacrificed to this old 
 man P— -No,* thought I, * if Lemington has deserted 
 me, I shall not surrender the consolation of living 
 free, and loving him while this heart beats in my 
 bosom.’ 
 
 After spending another night of torment, I arose ; 
 when my maids entered to dress me. I was now 
 more calm, having resolved to fly from the earl’s 
 that very day, to bid Lady Beckford farewell, and 
 then to return to my father’s house. 
 
 Casting my eyes on the pictures in my apartment, 
 I asked, ‘What lovely child’s picture is that?’ — 
 ‘ The Earl of Lemington’ s,’ replied the maid, ‘ and 
 the next to it is his mother, Lord Glenford’s sister.’ 
 ‘ Whose portrait is that above ?’ — ‘ It is our first 
 lady,’ was the answer. ‘How !’ said I, ‘has Lord 
 Glenford been twice married P’ — ‘ No, miss,’ said 
 the maid ; ‘but as we look upon you as our second, 
 we may be allowed the expression.’ I was struck 
 to the heart, and wished myself a thousand leagues 
 distant. 
 
 After being dressed, I was conducted to the 
 breakfast-room, a splended apartment. The com- 
 
 E any, consisting of Earl Glenford, his lordship’s 
 anker, his solicitor, his land-steward, his chaplain, 
 and his physician, rose when I entered ; and his 
 lordship politely handed me to the head of the table. 
 
380 rosinajor, 
 
 After breakfast his lordship invited us to walk 
 into his gardens. The banker, whom I had seen 
 at Sir William Beckford’s, offered me his arm. 
 Here we spent above an hour, looking at the aviary, 
 conservatory, and other parts of this beautiful 
 place. Thus the day was spent in a continual suc- 
 cession of amusements. The breakfast was elegant ; 
 but the dinner exceeded in magnificence all that I 
 had ever . witnessed. An excellent band of music 
 played, in an anti-room, some of our finest 
 national airs. Two servants preceded me to my 
 apartments, when I desired to be left alone. I was 
 beginning to collect my scattered thoughts, when a 
 servant entered, to inquire if I would favour his 
 lordship with a few minutes conversation. 
 
 I found his lordship alone, walking up and down 
 in his apartment. He kindly conducted me to a 
 seat. 4 Now, my charming Rosina,’ said he, ‘ I 
 hope your mind has recovered its wonted tone. 
 You are too beautiful ever to be safe without a pro- 
 tector, and never could you find one more disposed 
 than myself to render you happy.’ — ‘ Your lord- 
 ship, * I replied, 4 is always too complimentary ; yet I 
 entertain a grateful sense of your kindness.’— 
 ‘ Talk not thus, my adorable angel,’ replied his 
 lordship : 4 1 love you to distraction. O give me 
 your pity.’ Saying which, he snatched my hand, 
 and pressed it to his lips. * My lord,’ said I, an- 
 grily, ‘ this childishness is unbecoming the dignity 
 of your character.’ 4 Then know that the marriage 
 settlement is already drawn out. I have settled 
 your jointure at ten thousand pounds, jewels to 
 the amount of twenty thousand , with a house ele- 
 gantly furnished. 
 
 ‘My lord,’ said I, *1 am unworthy of such a 
 honour. I will never marry, but will lead a life of 
 humble industry under my father’s protection.’ — 
 4 So, so,’ said he, 4 you are quite willing to become 
 Lady Lemington, but too humble to be Lady Glen- 
 ford. Now, why should I inspire you with dis- 
 gust ?’ — ‘ Pardon me, my lord,’ I replied, 4 1 feel 
 
THE VIRTUOUS- COUNTRY MAID. 381 
 
 toothing but respect for your lordship.’ — ‘Then I 
 desire no more,’ said he. * We will immediately 
 sign the marriage deeds.’ 
 
 I said, in a firm voice, ‘ My lord, cease this use* 
 less talk. My heart and my hand shall never be 
 separated. Nothing shall ever induce me to com- 
 mit such a legal prostitution.’ — ‘ I give you twenty- 
 four hours to choose between the alternative of 
 being Lady Glenford, or of spending your days in 
 perpetual imprisonment.’ — ‘ My lord, I despise your 
 impotent threats. I live in a land of liberty, where 
 feudal tyranny has ceased to exist.’ Then I walk- 
 ed out of the room. On passing the head of the 
 grand stair-case, I paused ; when one of the ser- 
 vants said, ‘ This way, if you please.’ This con- 
 vinced me that I was a prisoner, and I proceeded 
 to my chamber. 
 
 I went to bed with my mind wonderfully com* 
 posed, and which I could only attribute to my re- 
 solution of adhering at all hazards, to the plan of 
 bidding a lasting farewell to all those scenes of 
 danger and of grandeur. As I had slept little in 
 the two preceding nights, I enjoyed repose for 
 eight hours. Through the following day, I was 
 attended with the usual respect ; but no conversa- 
 tion passed between me and the servants. In the 
 evening, I was summoned to appear before his 
 lordship. He was seated at a table which was 
 covered with parchments. ‘ Now, miss,’ said he, 
 smiling, ‘ you will find that I do all things with 
 punctuality and determination. I hope you are 
 now prepared to make a wise election. These are 
 the marriage settlements, and my attorney and 
 chaplain are in attendance.' — ‘ My lord,' said I, 
 ‘ when I calmly form an important resolution, no 
 inducement can break it.’ ‘ Then you persist in 
 rejecting a coronet, &c. You are mad.’ He said 
 nothing more, but walked out. 
 
 I was considering how to escape, when a servant 
 entered, saying that his lordship permitted me to 
 depart. ‘ Very well,’ said I, ‘pray call a hackney 
 
£8*2 rosina; or, 
 
 coach. ‘ — ‘ There is one in waiting,’ rep*ied the ser- 
 vant. — I saw another servant with my small travel- 
 ling trunk. 
 
 When I came to the door of the coach, I desired 
 the coachman to drive me to Lady Beckford’s. I 
 soon noticed we were going in a wrong direction, 
 and said so to the man that sat beside me. ‘ All’s 
 right, madam,’ replied he. — ‘ It is not so,’ answered 
 I, ‘ and I wdll not be fooled. At the same time I 
 rose to speak to the coachman. ‘ Do, my dear 
 lady, be quiet,’ said the man.— ‘ Do you mean, sir, 
 to employ violence in executing your commission ?* 
 said I. — ‘No, madam, not if it can be avoided.’ I 
 resigned myself to my fate. ‘ Can this be a bailiff,* 
 thought I, ‘ whom his lordship has directed to carry 
 me to prison, under the pretext that I owe him a 
 debt P 
 
 I now saw a patrol pass on horseback ; and I re- 
 solved to claim the protection of the next we met 
 by cries of murder. But the coach suddenly turn- 
 ed down a narrow avenue, and drew up in front of 
 a genteel looking house. The coachman rang the 
 bell violently ; and two men and a woman appear- 
 ed. I was led into the house, when the outer door 
 was hastily locked. The woman showed me into a 
 room, and, shutting the door, walked off without 
 speaking. The men were awkward, clumsy, im- 
 pudent-like fellows. Even the woman had a cer- 
 tain sinister look, which, to me, was very revolting. 
 My alarm was great ; my suspense became insup- 
 portable ; and I therefore rang the bell to demand 
 an explanation. But no one appeared. At length 
 a woman entered with a candle, and said, ‘Your 
 room is ready — follow me.’ 
 
 She led me along a gallery, at the end of which 
 she opened a door, which she desired me to enter. 
 I was struck with the sight of a barrier of iron 
 bars, and at the strange noises I heard. ‘Pray, 
 my good woman, is this an inn?’ said I. — ‘You 
 will find yourself very comfortable here,’ replied 
 she. — ‘ You are a fine lady, no doubt; but you will 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 383 
 
 find my master’s pride and authority equal to 
 yours.’ — ‘ Your master!’ exclaimed I. ‘Who is 
 he ? Pray send him here : I wish to speak with 
 him.’ — ‘ Now, my pretty lady,’ said she, coaxingly, 
 ‘ you shall have a coronet and a fine coach ; but 
 you must go to bed quietly.’ 
 
 It was of no use to converse with this impudent 
 fool ; so I allowed myself to be undressed and put 
 to bed. When the woman withdrew, I heard her 
 lock my chamber door. ‘ I am surely a prisoner,’ 
 thought I. Just then, one of the sweetest, most 
 plaintive voices struck upon my ear. I listened 
 with breathless attention. It was super -humanly 
 touching, when the singer was interrupted by a 
 loud, wild laugh, and loud screams and the clank- 
 ing of chains. A heart-sickening conviction burst 
 upon my mind ; and I exclaimed, ‘ Good God ! can 
 this be a mad-house ?’ ‘ And this is the way,’ 
 thought I, ‘in which he intends to execute his 
 threat of subjecting me to perpetual imprisonment.’ 
 Nothing had ever tended to horrify and depress my 
 spirits so much as the'present calamity. I beat my 
 breast, tossed about the bed-clothes, and threw 
 myself into every variety of attitude. 
 
 As soon as day broke, I rose and dressed, for I 
 had not closed my eyes. I found my window was 
 secured by iron bars ; and that the woman had 
 taken away my pockets, containing my scissors, 
 penknife, money, and other little articles. Hap- 
 pily I found a jug of water in the corner of my 
 apartment, with which I bathed my burning tem- 
 ples and forehead. 
 
 About nine o’clock, my female keeper entered 
 with my breakfast, with consisted of thin gruel, in 
 which a little coarse bread had been crumbled. ‘ So 
 this is a lunatic asylum, I suppose ?’ said I. — 
 ‘ There is not a more respectable retreat in Eng- 
 land,’ replied the woman. — ‘ But you receive every 
 one that is dragged into your house, however ille- 
 gally.’ — ‘ Quite a mistake, miss ; no person can be 
 admitted without the order be signed by a magis- 
 
384 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 trate. But it is contrary to our rules for me to hold 
 a conversation with any patient ; so pray ask no 
 more questions.’ — ‘ Very well,’ said I, only send me 
 paper, pens, and ink. — ‘ Impossible,’ replied the 
 woman ; ‘ such indulgences are never granted.’ 
 
 All this day I sat revolving in my mind the vari- 
 ous misfortunes I had suffered, and the still more 
 dreadful sufferings with which I was threatened. 
 I remained in solitude the next day also, and tasted 
 nothing but a few spoonfuls of gruel in the morn- 
 ing and evening. The dinner brought me was so 
 coarse, ill-cooked, and nasty, that 1 refused to 
 touch it. On the morning of the third day, an ill- 
 looking fellow, carrying a whip, which I had just 
 heard cruelly applied to a poor creature in an ad- 
 joining room, opened the door, saying, ‘ You have 
 sat long enough there counting your fingers. Come, 
 rous6 up, and go into the garden.’ I rose very 
 quickly, and walked out before him. He led me 
 down stairs, and, opening a door, showed me into 
 a garden which was laid out beautifully, and every 
 thing appeared in most excellent order. The day 
 was remarkably fine, and the birds were sporting 
 and singing very delightfully. 
 
 I was permitted to visit the garden for two hours 
 every day, which rendered my confinement less 
 irksome. One day, an elegant, pale-looking young 
 lady came tripping up the walk, and said, ‘ My 
 dear, I am happy to see you divert your mind by 
 an occupation so healthy and interesting. Para- 
 dise itself was only a garden. But come, I will do 
 myself the honour of showing you the beauties of 
 our elysium. She then took my arm, and led me 
 into every part of the garden, pointing out the 
 most curious plants and flowers, and giving me 
 their several histories in a lively and scientific man- 
 ner. I could not but admire the extensive infor- 
 mation which my new friend displayed on this 
 subject, and was wondering how such a well-edu- 
 cated lady could be concerned in such an establish- 
 ment, when she stopped short, and whispered ab- 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 385 
 
 ruptly, i Do you understand the language of 
 flowers ?’ — ‘ No, I have not learned it.’ 
 
 On the eighth day of my confinement, a tall, 
 thin, well-dressed gentleman entered my room. 
 After observing me with a keen eye, he asked how 
 I felt. ‘ Before I answer your question,’ said I, 
 
 ‘ may I be permitted to know who honours me with 
 this visit ?’ — ‘ I am the surgeon to this house,’ he 
 answered ; when he felt my pulse, examined my 
 tongue, and asked a few questions common to phy- 
 sicians. My male and female keepers being pres- 
 ent, motives of delicacy induced me to reply in 
 Drench, which he understood. I then descanted in 
 language which, for fluency, correctness, and elo- 
 quence, even surprised myself, on the illegal out- 
 rage committed on my liberty by the Earl of Glen- 
 ford ; the refusal to show me the order for my 
 committal, or to allow me materials for writing. 
 
 The surgeon declared that he knew nothing of 
 my case, except what he saw entered in the house- 
 books ; but that I had been legally removed, on 
 the affidavit of a Mr. Frazer. He assured me that 
 I was under the protection of men of honour and 
 humanity. 
 
 About an hour after the departure of the sur- 
 geon, a young girl entered, and led me down stairs 
 into a neat little parlour which overlooked the gar- 
 den. A door near the window opened into a light 
 closet, which held a bed and a small toilet. ‘ These 
 are Surgeon Mackintosh’s apartments,’ said the 
 girl, ‘ which he requests you to occupy ; and when- 
 ever you please to ring the bell, I will attend you.’ 
 This was a happy change. * I shall yet see my na- 
 tive village,’ I exclaimed : ‘ I shall yet sit upon the 
 seat which Lemington always occupied in my fa- 
 ther’s house ; and I shall yet mix my tears with the 
 brook, on the margin of which he whispered into 
 my ears the delicious tales of love.’ 
 
 Here I remained a fortnight longer being visited 
 by the friendly surgeon once every three days. One 
 day he observed that difficulties had prevented my 
 
 r 
 
2S6 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 liberation ; but he hoped to surmount them shortly 
 Two days after this interview, the head keeper an- 
 nounced that an order for my discharge had arri- 
 ved, and that a chaise was waiting for me. He 
 then carried my trunk out of the room, and begged 
 that I would forgive any offence he might have 
 given me. I merely nodded, for I disliked this 
 man for his harshness towards those under his 
 care ; and I hastened to leave this dreadful place. 
 When I came to the door, I said to the post-boy, 
 
 ‘ To what place are you requested to drive ?’ — ‘ To 
 Lady Beckford’s country house at Uxbridge,’ said 
 he. I said no more, but went into the chaise, which 
 drove off. 
 
 A gentleman on horseback, muffled up in a great 
 coat, with a servant well mounted, joined the chaise 
 just as we set off. They rode before the chaise, 
 and the gentleman’s horse reared and wheeled 
 around. I thus got a glance of the rider’s face, 
 and saw it was Sir Henry Cleveland. ‘ Just hea- 
 vens !’ ejaculated I, while a cold tremor pervaded 
 my whole frame, ‘ am I to be again sacrificed to 
 lust and perfidy ?’ 
 
 About a mile further, my attention was arrested 
 by two horsemen advancing in full gallop. On 
 approaching, one of them spoke, and struck Sir 
 Henry a violent blow across the shoqlders. I start- 
 ed — looked again— and, good God ! it was Leming- 
 ton ! I instantly shrunk into a corner of the chaise, 
 and threw a shawl over my face. I heard theories 
 of Sir Henry, and the blows repeated with rapidity 
 and violence. ‘ I think we have made a capture 
 here,’ said Captain Ross, laughing, ‘ for the chaise- 
 driver has fled in terror.’ 
 
 By some means my shawl fell off. * Rosina !’ 
 exclaimed Remington, ‘ is it possible ? Can I be so 
 happy ? Is this really my dear, lost Rosina ?’ and 
 he threw himself off horseback. My heart, I 
 thought, would have burst — tears of love and of- 
 fended pride filled my eyes — but my utterance was 
 choked. I sunk down in a state of insensibility. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 287 
 
 When I recovered, I found myself supported in 
 the arms of Lemington ; while Captain Boss was 
 giving me cold water to drink. ‘ Be composed, my 
 love,’ said Lemington, soothingly, while the tear 
 stood in his eye, ‘ I am here to protect you, and to 
 revenge your wrongs.’ — ‘ Lemington,’ said I, ‘ you 
 have very cruelly lacerated an affectionate heart. 
 But I complain not : I wish only to retire to my 
 original obscurity. Bosina would rather die than 
 entail dishonour on your lordship.’ — ‘ My dearest, 
 my own Bosina,’ replied he, taking my hand, ‘ why 
 torture me with this language ? Do you mean to 
 kill me P When so unexpectedly blessed in meet- 
 ing you, am I to be plunged into despair by un- 
 meaning reproaches.’ 
 
 I now handed him the letter, which I had re- 
 ceived from Lord Glenford. While he was reading 
 it, I was terrified at the variation of his counten- 
 ance. His friend Boss supported him, while he 
 struck his forehead with great violence. ‘ Bosina, 
 my poor lovely martyr, Bosina,’ said he, ‘where 
 do you come from?’ — ‘from the mad-house, 
 replied I. — ‘ From the mad -house !’ he shouted, 
 with a wild, alarming, hysteric laugh, ‘yes, that 
 shall be my rest — my home. The whole race of 
 men are devils.’ I was now alarmed ; and took 
 Lemington by the hand, and said, ‘ My lord, we 
 will quit this place.' — ‘ Villains have been practis- 
 ing,’ said Boss ; ‘ but this is the day of vengeance 
 and triumph. Come, my lord, drink,’ continued 
 he, offering the bottle of water to his friend, who 
 seized it with a quick grasp, and throwing it 
 frantically on the ground, broke it into a thousand 
 pieces. On reaching the chaise, Boss asked 
 where I wished to drive to. ‘ I supposed that the 
 chaise was carrying me to Lady Beckf ord’s mansion 
 at Uxbridge.’ ‘ This is not the road, but I will see 
 you there in safety. Do be kind to his lordship.’ 
 He needed scarcely to have begged this as a favour, 
 for my dear Lemington’ s agony of mind had quite 
 overcome all feelings of pride and resentment, and 
 
388 rqsina; or, 
 
 I felt overjoyed when I saw him seated beside me. 
 The driver, who had just returned, was sadly 
 frightened by what he had witnessed, obeyed the 
 captain’s order, and galloped along with great 
 spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 T HE Earl asked, ‘Who gave you this accursed 
 forgery P’ meaning the letter. — ‘ It is a forgery, 
 then,’ thought I, ‘ and my lover is true. ‘ I will 
 tell you all,’ said I. The chaise now drew up in 
 front of Lady Beckford's. I was soon in her lady- 
 ship’s arms, who shed tears of joy while she clasp- 
 ed me to her breast. Then she politely invited the 
 gentleman to dinner ; an offer which was gladly 
 accepted. 
 
 What has detained you so long, my dear ?’ said 
 Lady Beckford. ‘ I ordered my carriage to go in 
 quest of you.’ — ‘ Why, I left my unpleasant abode 
 within five minutes after the chaise arrived ; but 
 the odd guardian your ladyship chose for me, and 
 these gentlemen, had a little fracas on the road.’ — 
 ‘ I am sorry for that,’ said Lady Beckford ; ‘ for he 
 is a gentleman whom I highly esteem for his hu- 
 manity and professional skill.’ — ‘ Your ladyship,' 
 said I, ‘ has acquired a new insight into Sir Henry’s 
 character.’ — ‘ Sir Henry — who ?’ — ‘ Why, Sir Henry 
 Cleveland was my guardian when I left the asylum.' 
 — ‘ Sir Henry, child ! — then where was Surgeon 
 Mackintosh, who went to conduct you to Uxbridge ?’ 
 — 4 1 know not,’ said I. ‘ That is very odd indeed,' 
 exclaimed Lady Beckford, musing. — ‘ We met Sir 
 Harry,’ observed Captain Ross, ‘ leading this fair 
 captive in a direction quite opposite to Uxbridge ; 
 and certainly my friend Lemington paid him off a 
 debt of gratitude with high interest.’ 
 
 ‘Who, my dear Rosina, sent you to a lunatic 
 asylum ?’ inquired the Earl. ‘ I would not listen 
 to certain dictates, so Lord Glenford confined me.' 
 — ‘ And he gave you this letter ?’ said he. ‘ Yes, r 
 replied I, ‘ his lordship was curious to know the 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 339 
 
 strength of my philosophy.’ He shrugged up his 
 shoulders, and said nothing ; but I feared he was 
 contemplating measures which might involve us 
 both in trouble. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Forbes now entered. Our meeting 
 was affectionate. Mr. Forbes had been but a few 
 days in town ; and these he had spent in fruitless 
 endeavours to find me out. He had called at my 
 father’s, and had thus been the first to discover 
 that I was lost. The Earl of Lemington and Cap- 
 tain Ross arrived a day later. Dinner was now 
 announced, during which Captain Ross exercised 
 all his wit and drollery to dissipate his friend’s 
 melancholy. 
 
 In the evening Mr. Mackintosh entered, and was 
 both surprised and delighted to see Mrs. Forbes, 
 who was his distant relation. He saluted the com* 
 pany, and me in particular, with great politeness, 
 but could scarcely be prevailed upon to sit down. 
 
 * You are wanting in gallantry,’ said Lady Beck- 
 ford : ‘ I thought it would have been an agreeable 
 task to have escorted this lady hither.’— ‘ Your 
 ladyship speaks truly,’ replied he ; ‘ and you know 
 that the moment I received the concurrence of my 
 partner, I hastened to inform you of the circum- 
 stances. I was just going off, when Mrs. Page in- 
 formed me that I was wanted at a nobleman’s 
 house in town. I therefore wrote an order for the 
 lady’s enlargement, and proceeded to town.’ — 
 
 * which order,’ observed Lemington, 1 was delivered 
 to Sir Henry Cleveland.’ — ‘My lord,’ replied the 
 surgeon, ‘ I have stated all that I know on the sub- 
 ject.’ Saying this, he rose and left the room. 
 
 A servant immediately entered, and requested 
 his lordship’s and my attendance in an adjoining 
 room. We obeyed. ‘I have brought a special 
 message to you both,’ said the surgeon. The Earl 
 of Glenford is dangerously ill. At present he is 
 arranging his affairs ; after which he earnestly de- 
 sires to see you both, to obtain your forgiveness, 
 and to impart his blessing. The physicians will 
 
390 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 send an express for you at the proper time and you 
 must not approach the patient without due notice 
 and preparation.’ • Lemington was agitated by 
 conflicting feelings; but he allowed Lady Beck- 
 ford to be sent for. When her ladyship heard 
 what had occurred, she said she would return to 
 her town’s house immediately, where we would be 
 ready in case of a sudden call. 
 
 We were soon conveyed to London. We all 
 supped together ; but the illness of Lord Glenford 
 cast a damp over our enjoyments. At an early 
 hour I retired to my old chamber, unconscious of 
 the great events that would occur within twenty- 
 four honrs. 
 
 Next morning, on entering the breakfast-room, I 
 asked the earl of Lemington if he had heard from 
 his uncle. ‘ Yillars,’ replied he, ‘ has been twice at 
 his house this morning. He says that his lordship 
 is much weaker, but is now enjoying a quiet slum- 
 ber. Ah ! Rosina,’ said he, ‘ X now freely forgive 
 him every thing as far as I am concerned, for he 
 has always been as a father to me. Nay, I could 
 almost forgive him for the injuries he has inflicted 
 upon you; but that is too much.’ — ‘No, my dear 
 lord,’ said I, ‘ he has my forgiveness, and my best 
 prayers for his recovery. I shall be miserable un- 
 til I can express my feelings to him on this sub- 
 ject.’ — ‘ You are an angel sent to bless me,’ replied 
 my Lemington, while he fervently pressed my hand. 
 
 I was pleased to find that Lemington’s feelings 
 of rage were mellowed down into those of tender- 
 ness and sympathy. We walked two hours in the 
 garden ; and I again enjoyed those pure, rapturous, 
 inexpressible feelings of pleasure, which I thought 
 were fled for ever. I felt assured that he would 
 never again leave me to the mercy of accident. A 
 little after noon, the Earl of Glenford’ s carriage 
 came with the long-looked-for message, summon- 
 ing us to attend his lordship’s death-bed. On the 
 road, Lemington appeared pale and dejected. He 
 said nothing, but occasionally squeezed my hand. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 391 
 
 * Ah !’ thought I, ‘ what an affectionate husband his 
 lordship will make — so tender — so feeling — yet so 
 spirited.’ When we alighted, the old steward 
 conducted us along the apartments in a very solemn 
 manner. On arriving at the door of his lordship’s 
 apartment, we saw his physician standing, as if in 
 waiting. ‘ How is my uncle ?’ inquired Lemington 
 fearfully. The doctor said nothing, but shook his 
 head, and we passed on. 
 
 The bed-chamber was so darkened, that I could 
 distinguish nothing but two wax candles, whose 
 feeble glimmering was obscured by a large green 
 shade. Lemington kneeled down by the bedside, 
 and sobbed out, ‘ Uncle, you must live.’ — ‘ Ah ! my 
 dear boy,’ said a feeble voice, ‘ I have much to an- 
 swer for. Did Bosina refuse to come P’— ‘No, 
 uncle : how could you entertain such a thought ? 
 Bosina is here.’ — ‘ As an angel of mercy, I hope,’ 
 said Glenford, in broken accents. — ‘Oh! my dear 
 lord,’ said I, kneeling down beside Lemington, ‘ do 
 not despair ; do not yield to the enemy. Encour- 
 age hope ; and we will nurse you day and night, 
 until smiling health returns.’— ‘ Admirable !’ re- 
 plied his lordship: ‘you distress me— I cannot 
 bear this — retire for a minute. The doctor, who 
 had entered, signed for us to leave the apartment. 
 We did so, and were shown into an adjoining room. 
 ‘ His lordship,’ said the physician, ‘ has something 
 of infinite importance to communicate; and, in 
 about half an hour, his strength may enable him to 
 go through the trying scene.’ 
 
 We sat here in anxious suspense for nearly a 
 whole hour. I was racked with impatience, and 
 grieved to observe the distress which my dear lord 
 was evidently suffering. At length the door open- 
 ed ; and who should walk in but the dying Earl of 
 Glenford himself, who was magnificently dressed, 
 and exhibited in his countenance all the freshness 
 and cheerfulness of good health and elated spirits. 
 We both started, and I looked at Lemington for 
 explanation and protection. The old nobleman 
 
392 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 approached me, and, taking my hand, sat down by 
 my side, and addressed me in the following words : — 
 
 ‘ It is high time, dear Rosina, to put an end to 
 your manifold troubles, and crown your exemplary 
 virtue with joy. You certainly merit a fortune 
 superior to that which you are on the point of en- 
 joying. I am now fully convinced of your good 
 qualities, or I would never have decided in your 
 favour. My connexions in life have been very ex- 
 tensive ; but the result of my experience has beeq 
 such as not to give me a very high opinion of man- 
 kind : nor did I ever believe a woman existed, who 
 possessed these elevated sentiments which you have 
 evinced. 
 
 ‘ My dear boy, Remington, was at a tender age 
 placed under my care. I have always protected 
 his interests, watched over his conduct, and direct- 
 ed his footsteps. No father could be more anxious 
 to promote the happiness of an only and beloved 
 son. In return, he inspired me with the proudest 
 hopes, and induced me to anticipate with delight 
 the fame and honour he would entail upon our 
 ancient house. 
 
 ‘ It was, therefore, with feelings of alarm and 
 mortification that I learned he had conceived a 
 strong and sincere passion for a poor country girl. 
 My displeasure was very considerably augmented 
 by a correspondence which the Honourable Miss 
 Lambe opened with me on the subject. Her cun- 
 ning was only to be equalled by her malice ; and 
 she contrived to impress my mind with a strong 
 prejudice against you. I required little induce- 
 ment to join in many of the plots laid against you, 
 and will hereafter amuse you with an account of 
 the chagrin which our disappointments occasioned 
 us. My accidental introduction to you dissipated 
 many of the unfounded suspicions I had attached 
 to your character. I now resolved to examine 
 and try you ; while, by procuring Remington’s ap- 
 pointment to two foreign missions, I put his love 
 and constancy to the test. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATH. 393 
 
 *1 was well informed,’ continued his lordship, 
 
 * of the purport of Lemington's late journey to the 
 north, which I would have prevented or retarded, 
 had I not wished to see you extricated from the 
 fangs of the most desperate profligate in the king- 
 dom. I rejoiced at your happy deliverance; but, 
 as I found that you and Lemington were snugly 
 nestled together in the country, I caused one of my 
 friends in the ministry to summon hir . to town, in. 
 order that I might execute the last scheme with 
 which I intended to try the strength of your mind 
 and your virtue. As soon as your lover arrived, I 
 sent him to Scotland, to procure the return of Cap- 
 tain Ross to Parliament, for a burgh in which I 
 possess considerable interest , and I must beg leave 
 to say, in the midst of this 1 ve business, I have felt 
 gratified in procuring this honour for an able, 
 worthy, and independent man, 
 
 * That poor, grovelling wretch, Frazer, had been 
 tempted, by the prospect of immense gains, to risk 
 his whole property in a slave trading speculation 
 at * Liverpool, which, failing, reduced him to his 
 pristine poverty. He therefore came crawling to 
 me ; and the first job I gave him was to forge that 
 letter, in which Lemington renounced you for ever. 
 The effects of this letter was heightened by all the 
 glare of splendour, and the various lures most like- 
 ly to make an impression upon a woman’s heart ; 
 had you consented to accept my hand, it would 
 have been ultimately refused ; and I know that my 
 spirited nephew would agree to my scheme of re- 
 turning you to your friends, with a handsome pen- 
 sion for life. You, however, continued firm and 
 resolute ; and I perceived that your love was inter- 
 woven with your very existence. The sending you 
 to a lunatic asylum was intended to be the last act 
 in the drama. The physician of the establishment 
 was privy to the plot ; but his absence and subse- 
 quent illness prevented me from paying you the 
 visit I intended. 
 
 ‘ The sudden return of Lemington aud Ross, tha 
 
394 rosina; or, 
 
 incessant Inquiries of Mr. Forbes, and the warm 
 remonstrances of Mr. Mackintosh, convinced me 
 that your retreat could not remain long a secret. 
 My last plot having in some measure miscarried, I 
 feared the impetuous temper of Lemington ; and, 
 in order to disarm his wrath, found it necessary to 
 be sick .’ — 1 Ah ! my dear uncle,’ cried Lemington, 
 1 have you not then been really sick? Was your 
 dangerous illness only a pretext ?’ 
 
 ‘ Only a pretext,’ resumed this artful courtier, 
 ‘ for smoothing the way towards an explanation, 
 and for obtaining an additional proof of your duty 
 and affection. This was easily managed ; my phy- 
 sician, the house-steward, and two servants, being 
 acquainted with the secret. Now I am completely 
 convinced that you were formed for each other. 
 My nephew’s character I have studied over since he 
 began to reason : and, as for you, Rosina, you are, 
 I am convinced, pure and unspotted ; while your 
 generosity and humanity are not inferior to your 
 love and fidelity. You have proved yourself, 
 through a long series of trials and sufferings, to be 
 well entitled to a coronet. — Approach, my own 
 Lemington,’ said he, rising and again taking me by 
 the hand : * 1 give you Rosina ; and I do assure 
 you she is a gift which princes might covet.’ 
 
 We both kneeled at his feet. I was so overjoyed, 
 that it is impossible to describe the state I was in. 
 The old earl himself dropped a tear as he blessed 
 us. My heart was full, and I durst not open my 
 mouth to express my acknowledgements ; but my 
 lover replied to the earl’s delightful haiangue, with 
 that feeling, manliness, and propriety, which his 
 correct taste dictated.’ 
 
 ‘ Preparations,’ said the Earl of Glenford, 1 are 
 now making for your marriage, which I purpose to 
 have celebrated in this house to-morrow. After 
 dinner we will sign the marriage settlements. I 
 know that you are too modest and generous, Ro- 
 sina, to propose any stipulations : while your lovei 
 is too fond of soaring in the clouds to mind earthly 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 395 
 
 tilings. The task, of course, devolved upon me ; 
 and, as Lemington will enjoy my estates, I have 
 an additional right to interfere. The parchments 
 which you saw, Rosina, and which frightened you 
 so much, are those very ones which I know you 
 will sign with pleasure to-night.’ Then, rising up, 
 he bowed, and, saying that he would have the plea- 
 sure of our company at dinner, walked out of the 
 apartment. 
 
 My lover was affected, and I could only weep in 
 silence upon his bosom. He, however, soon reco- 
 vered himself, wiped the tears of joy from his eyes, 
 and began to talk sportingly. I understood this 
 delicate hint, and immediately set about adjusting 
 my dress and looks, so as to appear in company 
 with propriety. But, in the mean time, I snatched 
 a moment to write a hasty note to Lady Beckford, 
 informing her that Lord Glenford was well, that I 
 ■was overwhelmed with the surprising things I had 
 just heard, and that my happiness would be con- 
 summated on the morrow. My painful experience 
 however, gave me some slight apprehensions of the 
 future ; for I added, beneath the note, ‘ The Earl 
 of Lemington is here, and I am quite safe.’ I show- 
 ed him this appended remark, at which he laughed 
 and shook his head. 
 
 We found at the dinner table all the gentlemen 
 belonging to the earl’s household, and who had 
 dined with me before. The company was very 
 cheerful and entertaining ; but my chief delight 
 consisted in observing the satisfaction depicted in 
 the countenance of my dear Lemington. Some 
 time after dinner, the solicitor, the banker, Lord 
 Glenford, Lemington, and myself, retired into a pri- 
 vate apartment, when the marriage settlements 
 were read and signed. After this business was 
 finished, the old earl whispered in my ear, ‘ There 
 are strangers waiting to congratulate you and 
 my old acquaintance Villars having just entered, 
 he was ordered to show me the apartment where 
 the strangers were waiting. Villars obeyed with 
 
396 rosina;or, 
 
 so much pleasure and alacrity, that I followed him 
 with confidence. 
 
 The moment that I had entered the apartment, 
 Villars shut the door ; and, on looking round, be- 
 held my father and mother. They both rose in 
 seeming alarm ; when I flew forwards, fell at their 
 feet, and exclaimed, ‘ Oh ! my dear mother and fa- 
 ther, pardon your daughter. She has caused yon 
 grief and uneasiness too long ; but she has been 
 governed by circumstances. Her many sufferings 
 are now past, and she can with pride claim you as 
 her parents,’ I leave the reader to imagine their 
 surprise and transport. Just then, my aunt Peggy 
 entered : when I threw myself around her neck, 
 and owned myself to be her niece. The honest 
 Creature stared at me with a look of strange in- 
 credulity, blended with a rapture which she could 
 scarcely repress, but when I told them of the hap- 
 piness for which I was destined on the following 
 day, they cried for joy. My mother pressed my 
 cheek to hers, ejaculating, ‘ God be praised ! Now 
 I will die happy.’ Then again, ‘J)id I not always 
 tell you, John, that our Rosina was a virtuous girl ? 
 and that Providence would some time restore her 
 to us with honour ?’ My father said nothing ; but, 
 1 dare say, he very sincerely repented the harsh 
 things he had uttered respecting me. 
 
 I now repeated, as briefly as I could, the various 
 reasons that had prevented me from discovering 
 myself sooner, and the accidents to which J owed 
 the change of my name. Still my aunt could scarce 
 persuade herself I was her niece. She asked me 
 several questions, as if to assure herself, and at last 
 ventured to inquire who the gentleman was that I 
 called my brother. At this instant the Earl of 
 Remington opened the door; and, having over- 
 heard the question, he answered, ‘ I was the lady’s 
 brother in Nottinghamshire, aunt Peggy ; but here 
 in town I am her husband elect.* He then saluted 
 my father and mother, and we chatted away an 
 hour very agreeably. My father said, on inquiring 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 307 
 
 how he happened to come to London, that a special 
 messenger, with a post-chaise, had brought a letter 
 in Mrs. Boyd’s name, requesting their immediate 
 attendance in London ; and that the impatience of 
 Peggy, and the urgency of the messenger, scarcely 
 permitted him time to dress, and instruct Mrs. 
 Danby how to conduct affairs in his absence. They 
 had been brought direct to this grand house, and 
 had just finished a fine refreshment, when I en- 
 tered. 
 
 At bed-time, I desired that Peggy might be per- 
 mitted to attend me, as I knew it would gratify 
 my affectionate relative. My aunt was immediately 
 brought into my superb chamber. ‘ Well, Peggy/ 
 said I, ‘ now that we are alone, how have they be- 
 haved to you in this house ?’ — ‘ Mercy on us ! mis- 
 tress,’ said she, for she always retained my original 
 title, ‘I am all in amazement. We dined in the 
 steward’s room, and were treated as if we were 
 real nobility. To be sure, they take me for some- 
 body ; for at supper, the servants, who were dress- 
 ed like gentlemen, waited upon me, calling me Miss 
 Peggy, forsooth. I know all this is on your account, 
 for you were made to bless us all ; but I don’t en- 
 joy it the less. I never received so many civilities 
 in my life, and methinks I am in paradise. As for 
 your mother, poor body, she does nothing but cry 
 for joy. But I told her it was very sinful to be too 
 much pleased ; for we were only mortals, and must 
 all die.* 
 
 ‘Very sound divinity, indeed, Peggy,' said I, 
 with a heavy sigh : for I was now in renewed 
 dread of some unforeseen event, that might blast 
 all my hopes. But I was at this time mistaken. 
 There is a season for every thing, and ill-fortune 
 itself will at last be weary of persecuting us. 
 
 Peggy appeared apprehensive that she had said 
 something improper ; so she added, with an inquir- 
 ing look, ‘ But it would be very naughty not to be 
 grateful for good things.’ — ‘True,’ said I. ‘Do 
 you know where yon are to sleep ‘ Yes, truly,* 
 
308 
 
 ROSINA ; OR, 
 
 she replied, * and I am proud of it. Do you ima* 
 gine there is anything wanting here ? After sup- 
 per, did not the old nurse come and show me the, 
 bride’s apartments, and the chamber allotted to her 
 maid ? ‘ Do but look,’ said she, making me pass 
 into an adjoining closet, ‘ at this damask camp-bed. 
 Do you think I shan’t sleep well P Mercy on us !’ 
 cried she, touching the bed, ‘ is it not a sin to spoil 
 all this P What nice sheets ! Why, our curate 
 never had such a fine surplice. I have lived in 
 genteel families ; but I never saw such finery as 
 here. Well, really, I do not think the queen is 
 better accommodated.’ Thus would my aunt’s 
 expressions of admiration have continued I know 
 not how long, had I not cut them short by hasten- 
 ing to bed. 
 
 Next morning, when my waiting-maids entered 
 to dress me, I was obliged to use some skill in 
 soothing Peggy, who imagined that this was an in- 
 fringement upon her prerogative. After being 
 dressed, my parents were introduced by Leming- 
 ton, to congratulate me on the arrival of the happy 
 day ; and never, I must confess, did I feel a more 
 tranquil and proud elevation of mind. 
 
 On entering the breakfast-room, Lady Beckford 
 caught me in her arms, exclaiming, ‘ Oh ! my dear 
 friend — my daughter — how I rej oice at your good 
 fortune! But you deserve it all.’ Then turning, 
 she continued, ‘ Give me leave to introduce you to 
 an esteemed friend when Miss Ann Kerr took me 
 by the hand. I now found that she still lived un- 
 der my surgeon’s protection, and enjoyed the 
 countenance and advice of Lady Beckford. Cap- 
 tain Boss, and the Irish officer, Dermot O’Dogherty, 
 now entered ; and I received their congratulations 
 with pleasure. They were followed by Mr. and 
 Mrs. Forbes, whose presence completed my happi- 
 ness. When the Earl of Glenford appeared, I im- 
 mediately advanced, kissed his hand, and thanked 
 him, with tears of gratitude, for his delicate and 
 friendly attentions. ‘ If I have atoned in any de- 
 
TTIE VIRTUOUS COUXTRY MAID. 309 
 
 greo,’ he replied, ‘ for my former offences, I am 
 satisfied. But I have not performed any works of 
 supererogation.’ 
 
 After breakfast, two clergymen appeared, dress- 
 ed in their canonicals. The first that entered I 
 saluted with high satisfaction, and expressed the 
 pleasure I experienced in seeing him on such an 
 occasion. It was the friendly and intelligent cler- 
 gyman of Lambeth. I looked on the other : I 
 thought I had seen him before— my knees trembled 
 — Good God ! is it possible ? — Can this be Captain 
 Lambe ? At this moment, Lemington stepped for- 
 ward, and announced him, ‘ The Very Reverend 
 Doctor Ward, Dean of Salisbury.’ — ‘ Then I am 
 wrong,’ thought I ; when the reverend gentleman 
 added, ‘ And the ex-libertine the Honourable Cap- 
 tain Lambe.’ On my expressing astonishment at 
 this mystery, he explained that after taking holy 
 orders, he agreed to break the entail in favour of 
 his nephew and sister ; that he had lived for some 
 time in retirement, during which he had married 
 the daughter of a country rector ; and that, shortly 
 after, a friend died, and, leaving him his sole heir, 
 he had changed his name. This circumstance, he 
 added, had drawn him again into the world ; and 
 he had become one of his majesty’s chaplains, and 
 Dean of Salisbury. He concluded by saying, that 
 the present was one of the happiest days of his life ; 
 as he was chosen to sanction, by the rites of reli- 
 gion, an union, at once desirable, compatible, and 
 calculated to ensure lasting happiness. 
 
 After adjusting some minor matters of etiquette, 
 I was led, surrounded by my friends and relatives, 
 into his lordship’s small domestic chapel. Doctor 
 Ward performed the service, and my worthy Lamb- 
 eth friend assisted. I discharged my part of the 
 ceremony with sedateness and gravity, and received 
 the trembling hand of that dear man in whom my 
 happiness was centered. The renewed congratula- 
 tions of the company were most endearing and in- 
 teresting ; and I exclaimed, in the fulness of my 
 
400 
 
 ROS1KA ; OR, 
 
 joy, ‘ Virtue, my friends, has its reward, even in 
 this life.’ 
 
 But in the midst of my happiness, I was not un- 
 mindful of the interests of others. I begged of 
 Lord Glenford that he would, for niy sake, as a 
 bride-favour, pardon the transgressions of Mr. 
 Frazer, who had been again turned off. I urged 
 this more especially, as his deceit and suppleness 
 had, on some occasions, been made instrumental 
 in promoting his lordship’s views. Lord Glenford 
 replied, that certainly Mr. Frazer should never 
 again reside in his house ; but, as a bride-favour, 
 he would grant him a life-annuity, on which he 
 might subsist comfortably. 
 
 I then turned to Lady Beckford, and said, ‘ Now, 
 my dear madam, let us have no heavy hearts to- 
 day ; but let all within our sphere rejoice. I beg 
 that you would recall Mrs. Page ; and I will join 
 with you in teaching her, that female discretion and 
 solid happiness are inseparable.’ — ‘ Well, my dear,* 
 replied she, ‘ as Mrs. Page has committed her great- 
 est offences against your ladyship, at your request 
 she is pardoned.’ This being the first time I had 
 been styled ‘ your ladyship,’ the title struck strange- 
 ly upon my ear : I blushed, and was so confound- 
 ed as scarcely to be able to return a proper ac- 
 knowledgement to my worthy patroness for her 
 kindness. 
 
 The poor widow near the Seven Dials, and all my 
 other poor pensioners, were remembered on this 
 happy day ; and I derived the purest satisfaction 
 from the reflection, that I had caused many hearts 
 to dance with joy. My dear Lemington joined me 
 in acts of benevolence and virtue ; and the eccen- 
 tric and warm-hearted Irishman amused us with 
 his expressions of joy, on my husband assuring him 
 that he should return to his regiment with the rank 
 of captain. But what gave me the greatest plea- 
 sure, was the introduction of Lieutenant Patterson, 
 who had been wounded by Colonel Douglas. He 
 was a noble-looking youth, and had been attended 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 401 
 
 by Mr. Mackintosh, the surgeon, by whom, at the 
 request of Captain Ross, he was invited to join our 
 party. Poor Miss Kerr was ready to sink into the 
 earth at his unexpected appearance ; and he him- 
 self was evidently confused and distressed : but on 
 introducing him to Miss Kerr as my esteemed 
 friend, he took and kissed her hand with consider- 
 able emotion. Before an hour was passed, I enjoy- 
 ed the pleasure of perceiving that they sat together 
 quite at ease. 
 
 After performing many acts of charity and mercy, 
 our whole party sat down to a most magnificent 
 dinner, over which good humour presided. It was 
 arranged that the young earl and I should set out 
 for Lady Beckford’s country house immediately 
 after supper ; but his lordship’s impatience short- 
 ened the time ; and we set off for Uxbridge before 
 supper, leaving the Earl of Glenford and his merry 
 companions to amuse themselves in their own way. 
 
 We remained above a week in this delightful and 
 rural retreat ; after which, we returned to town, 
 aud received at our own house, the visits and com- 
 pliments of many of the nobility and gentry. 
 Amongst others, my sister and her husband, Robert 
 Danby, came to wish us joy. I was entertained by 
 his sheepish and rustic manner, but received him 
 with all the respect due to a first lover, and a bro- 
 ther-in-law. When I asked him if he would go to 
 the steward’s room, drink a bottle of wine with 
 Villars, and forgive him for the drubbing he had 
 got when attempting to carry me off by force, 
 * Odsblood !’ said Robert, ‘ but your ladyship must 
 say nothing about our young pranks. To be sure, 
 I made rather free ; though I always suspected that 
 you were made of too fine flesh and blood for me. 
 So, mind you, we’ll drop the subject if you please; 
 and I’ll drink two bottles with your Mr. Villars, if 
 he chooses.’ — 4 Make yourself comfortable, Robert,’ 
 said 1, ‘ and I will be pleased. But you were right 
 in thinking that I was too fine for you ; for I had 
 early received impressions which would have made 
 
402 rosin A.; or, 
 
 me a less useful wife, to a man in your station, than 
 my merry, contented, industrious sister.’ 
 
 My sister observed towards me so much reserve 
 and respect, always calling me Lady Lemington, 
 that I found considerable difficulty in inspiring her 
 with confidence. However, at last I prevailed, and 
 we spent many hours in a free and friendly conver- 
 sation. When I related to her all my sufferings 
 and disappointments, she candidly confessed that 
 she could never have supported them ; and that 
 rather than experience such painful circumstances, 
 she would choose to be Mrs. Danby, and leave the 
 pursuit of a coronet to others. But great as my 
 sufferings had been, I thought them as nothing 
 when compared with the inestimable prize I had 
 obtained. 
 
 Lord Glenford took a fancy to Robert Danby, 
 whose practical skill he knew well how to appreci- 
 ate ; and his lordship constituted him steward of 
 liis estates in Cheshire and Wales, a situation quite 
 congenial to his views and pursuits. My father 
 was presented by my dear husband with a small 
 estate in Cambridgeshire, which he purchased for 
 the purpose. It was worth about three hundred 
 pounds per annum ; and as he cultivated it himself, 
 he was thus usefully employed, and had the plea- 
 sure both of living well, and of augmenting his 
 own fortune. 
 
 Within a month’s time, I had the high pleasure 
 of seeing Miss Kerr and Lieutenant Patterson join- 
 ed together in holy wedlock ; and shortly after Lord 
 Glenford obtained the promotion of this active, 
 spirited, and skilful officer. Mrs. Patterson and I 
 lived long on terms of intimacy ; but though she 
 had a fond and worthy husband, yet her seduction 
 by Colonel Douglas, and the subsequent death of 
 her father, had made such an impression upon her 
 mind as was never erased. She indulged much in 
 melancholy solitude, and very seldom smiled. Hav- 
 ing no children, or active employment during the 
 long periods of her husband’s absence, she turned 
 
the virtuous country math 
 
 403 
 
 her attention to religious subjects. From being 
 devout, she became superstitious ; her strong 
 powers of mind were gradually weakened ; and she 
 fell the innocent prey of pretenders to superior 
 sanctity. Both her husband and I laboured, though 
 ineffectually, to restore her spirits and self esteem. 
 Thus, with all the means of happiness in her power, 
 she converted this world into the vale and shadow 
 of death, and lived a striking example of the ruin- 
 ous effects of a single error in the Gonduct of a 
 young woman. 
 
 The misfortunes, disgrace, and poverty, in which 
 Sir Henry Cleveland was involved, in consequence 
 of his unprincipled conduct, at length produced re- 
 pentance, and the desire of amendment. The gen- 
 erous Captain O’Dogherty and my husband exerted 
 themselves in his behalf, and procured him some 
 legacies which had been conditionally bequeathed 
 him. He took home his lawful wife, and retired 
 to the neighbourhood of Keswick in Cumberland, 
 where he lived in retirement, superintending the 
 education of his children, and enjoying the sports 
 of the field. The Irish captain’s wife joined a com- 
 pany of strolling players, and, under some assumed 
 name, was lost amidst the votaries of poverty and 
 dissipation. 
 
 The generous and warm-hearted Captain Boss 
 was obliged to spend much of his time in Scotland, 
 the misconduct and peculations of his steward hav- 
 ing materially injured his property. Here he was 
 loved, nay, almost adored. His tenantry was con- 
 tented and happy, and he was j ustly held up as tho 
 pattern of a good landlord. He disapproved of the 
 system of enormous large farms and gentlemen 
 tenants, and restored many to the lands which had 
 been cultivated by their great-grandfathers, and 
 from which they had been cruelly ejected. He re- 
 built most of the cottages and farm-houses accord- 
 ing to the moderm plans of comfort and conveni- 
 ence, and used all his influence to promote cleanli- 
 ness, sobriety, and industry. At last he received 
 
404 
 
 ROSINA; OR, 
 
 an order to join his regiment in Ireland, which was 
 commanded to embark for North America. He 
 immediately came to London. His ideas of the 
 duties and honour of a soldier, and his dislike to 
 the service he was required to perform, caused a 
 violent conflict in his mind. After a painful strug* 
 gle, he decided upon going, and bade us a tender 
 and mournful farewell. 4 1 shall meet you both in 
 heaven !’ he sobbed out, as he rushed from us, in 
 an agony of mind which it was distressing to wit- 
 ness. Alas ! his presentiment was but too truly 
 verified. While cheering on his grenadiers to the 
 attack at Bunker’s Hill, a bullet pierced him 
 through the heart, and he fell dead to the ground. 
 
 Shortly after my marriage, I was presented at 
 court, where I was graciously received. His ma- 
 jesty honoured me with his particular notice, and 
 complimented me in a manner very unusual to his 
 plain blunt habits. I could not help contrasting 
 my feeling on this occasion with those I had expe- 
 rienced when I first obtained a transient glimpse 
 of his majesty. In the first case, I was transport- 
 ed with the childish rapture consequent on seeing 
 some grand, incomprehensible, and strange object ; 
 now, I approached the king with all the firmness 
 and confidence of a rational being, in order to tes- 
 tify my respect for the first magistrate of a great 
 and enlightened people. What a nobleness of sen- 
 timent and expansion of views are bestowed upon 
 us by the knowledge of science and philosophy ! 
 
 W'ithin a year after my happy union with the 
 best of men, I presented him with a son and heir. 
 Lord Glenford was excessively rejoiced at the 
 event ; but he did not live long to witness the ex- 
 panding faculties of our little son, being very sud- 
 denly carried off by the gout in his stomach. We 
 lamented his loss as an honest and affectionate re- 
 lative ; though his virtues were shaded by those 
 vices too common in fashionable life. After his 
 decease, my husband was raised to the dignity of 
 Marquis; and, with a considerable addition of for- 
 
THE VTRTUOtJS COUNTRY MAID. 40 # 
 
 time, I obtained my present title of Marchioness of 
 Lemington. 
 
 At the end of two years, I had a second son ; 
 shortly after which the marquis w:.- appointed am- 
 bassador to the court of Vienna. Here we lived 
 for some years, exercising the duties of hospitality 
 in a strange land, and occasionally engaged in the 
 festivities of one of the most formal and dignified 
 courts in Europe. However, my husband’s duties 
 to his country, and the superintending the early 
 education of our children, with those soothing en- 
 dearments which sweeten the marriage state, en- 
 abled him to pass his time very pleasantly. Per- 
 haps our domestic happiness was augmented by 
 the circumstance of living in a strange land, which 
 rendered us more dependent on each other. 
 
 We occupied a most delightful residence in a 
 suburb of the capital, called Rossau. The majes- 
 tic waters of the Danube rolled in front of our 
 palace : and all the surrounding district was cover- 
 ed with fine gardens and pleasure-houses. I think 
 I never saw a place that united more of the beauties 
 of nature with the curiosities of art, The city of 
 Vienna itself is one of the most lively and magnifi- 
 cent capitals in Europe. The population is com- 
 posed of Germans, Hungarians, Italians, Spaniards, 
 Dutch, Swiss, Greeks, Armenians, Turks, and 
 Jews. The intercourse of this motley assemblage 
 is conducted with much form and politeness, and 
 their discourse is overloaded with titles and com- 
 pliments; yet, in their real character, they are 
 honest and "frank. The women are generally very 
 handsome, mild in their manners, and circumspect 
 in their deportment. They, like many other people 
 on the continent, dress little girls like women, with 
 high powdered heads and hoop petticoats. The 
 use of rouge is general, but moderate ; and their 
 dress is remarkably splendid. Most of the Austrian 
 ladies excel in music, but not in mental accomplish- 
 ments ; their reading being restricted, through the 
 influence of the priests, to holy legend?. Yet they 
 
406 HOSINAJOR, 
 
 surpass the men in solid knowledge ; for trio 
 nobility, with few exceptions, are remarkably 
 ignorant, conceited, and haughty. Though stran- 
 gers to scientific knowledge, they are well ac- 
 quainted with the history of ghosts and familiar 
 spirits. 
 
 Our boys were sent to England to be educated, 
 and in a few years afterwards we intended to re- 
 turn ourselves ; but my husband having a pulmon- 
 ary complaint, his physician dissuaded him from 
 encountering the cold and moisture of a British 
 climate. We the more readily complied with this 
 advice, as Lady Beckford, with whom we had kept 
 up a constant correspondence, and several other of 
 our friends, had paid the debt of nature. 
 
 On retiring from the court of Vienna, we re- 
 ceived the most flattering testimonies of the empe- 
 ror’s esteem, and left some families belonging to 
 different nations with considerable regret. From 
 thence we proceeded to Milan, in the north of Italy ; 
 near to which we purchased a most delightful 
 palace, and formed an establishment suitable to our 
 rank. My aunt Peggy, refusing to leave me, had 
 accompanied us to Vienna, where she lived happily 
 and died tranquilly. 
 
 My sister, Mrs. Danby, had a fine intelligent girl, 
 whom I took with me into Germany, and adopted 
 as my own daughter. She was, during many 
 years, a lively and interesting companion to me ; 
 and at length I had the supreme pleasure of seeing 
 her united to one of the most worthy and learned 
 men in Italy, the Baron Carillo, of Milan. He had 
 been attached to the household of the Emperor 
 Joseph, where he first saw my young relative and 
 namesake, Miss Rosina Danby ; but when we re- 
 moved to Milan, all-powerful love compelled him to 
 follow our footsteps. He abandoned the paths of 
 ambition, left the splendours of a court, and lived 
 in retirement, enjoying the society of his wife, his 
 friends, and his books. Our families were insepar- 
 able • and we amused ourselves in studying botany 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 40* 
 
 chemistry, and electricity : while reading, music, 
 private theatricals, and occasional excursions to 
 the adjacent states, rendered our lives varied and 
 interesting. 
 
 In the year 1788, we visited the ancient and 
 classic land of Greece ; also Malta, and the variout 
 other islands in the eastern parts of the Mediteriv 
 nean ; and remained a few months in the import* 
 ant and curious city of Constantinople, a plaea 
 where the disciples of Mahomet exhibit a singu- 
 larity of costume and manner highly interesting to 
 the inhabitants of western Europe. After sailing 
 down the coast of Syria, and touching at St. John 
 d’Acre, we proceeded to Alexandria in Egypt, and 
 next to Tripoli. From this last place we sailed to 
 Sicily, where we saw the famous mountain Etna ; 
 and having refreshed ourselves at Palermo, return- 
 ed to Leghorn, where we sold our yacht, dismissed 
 the crew, and returned to Milan, highly gratified 
 with the various objects we had seen, the drawings 
 we had executed, and the amusing journal which 
 had been produced by the joint efforts of our little 
 party, and which my niece, the Baroness Carillo, 
 intends to correct and offer to the world. 
 
 In spite of all the efforts of the most eminent 
 physicians, the symptoms of consumption continued 
 to gain ground, and, in 1791, my dear Lemington 
 fell asleep, after we had spent together twenty-five 
 years of the most exquisite happiness ever enjoyed 
 in the married state. After this I returned to Eng- 
 land, to see my eldest son, whose military ardour 
 could not be restrained. He was bold, impetuous, 
 generous, and imaginative ; and having formed a 
 friendship with a youth of congenial sentiments, 
 destined for the East India service, he determined 
 to accompany him. My second son was a fine, ac- 
 tive, spirited youth ; and he died gloriously in the 
 sacred cause of humanity. Being on a visit to a 
 friend in Ireland, a small party agreed to an excur- 
 sion in a pleasure-boat upon Lake Strangford. The 
 two young gentlemen who undertook the manage- 
 
408 if osina ; ob, 
 
 merit of the boat were positive and headstrong, and, 
 having drank too freely, were deaf to all the re- 
 monstrances of my son. They persisted in carry- 
 ing too much sail, until at last a gust of wind over- 
 turned the frail vessel. One of the youths caught 
 my son with a deadly grasp, and would have sunk 
 him ; but, after a severe struggle, he disengaged 
 himself, and laid the seemingly lifeless corpse of a 
 lady that accompanied him across one arm, while 
 he held her child in his teeth, and with the other 
 arm manfully buffeted the waves. Thus he con- 
 tended with the angry waters until he had nearly 
 reached the shore, when some countrymen rushed 
 in and eased him of his load ; but nature being ex- 
 hausted, he himself sunk and rose no more. The 
 lady was restored to the arms of her husband, and 
 her little son is now become one of the brightest 
 ornaments of his country. My son’s courage and 
 humanity were applauded in all the journals of 
 Europe ; and the honour and utility of his last act 
 consoled me in a great measure for his early death. 
 
 I lived for some time in London, and occasion- 
 ally, during the summer months, visited some of 
 my friends who resided in the hospitable land of 
 Ireland. Thus, while war raged upon the conti- 
 nent, with all its attendant horrors, I passed my 
 time at ease, in the midst of polished society. Here 
 I would close my eventful memoirs but the par- 
 tiality of a mother irresistibly inclines me to insert 
 the following letter from my son, written some 
 time after his arrival in Hindostan. 
 
 4 Calcutta, October 10 — 
 
 • My dear mother, 
 
 4 1 embrace the opportunity of writing: to my dear pa- 
 rent. On landing: at Madras, every thing strikes with 
 astonishment. The buildings, persons, dress, manners of 
 the natives, and the face of the country, appeared to mo 
 a new region. The slender and graceful forms of the 
 Hindoos indicate the timidity of their dispositions. Upon 
 my arrival in India, warlike preparations against Tippoo 
 Saib were making ; and I had scarcely time to recover 
 from the effects of a long voyage, when I was ordered 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MATT). 
 
 m 
 
 upon a dangerous mission. At the head of fifty men, of 
 which only seven were Europeans, I marched to surprise 
 and occupy a small fort, that commanded a narrow pass. 
 It was in the midst of the rainy season. I put off my 
 clothes, and except a pair of thin cotton drawers, march- 
 ed naked with a parasol. From day-break in the morn- 
 ing to night, we marched through narrow passes and 
 over rugged mountains, in the midst of constant rains, 
 with thunder and lightning ; sometimes obliged to cross 
 rivers up to the chin in water, and sometimes swimming. 
 Our only rest during the day was two hours alter noon, 
 when the heat of the sun was insupportable. 
 
 ‘ At length we approached the fort, when I halted my 
 followers in a wood, at about three miles distance, where 
 we remained all the night in the midst of a most ter- 
 rific storm. Before day-light I marched forward, at the 
 head of twenty-one Sepoys. The fort was built of mud, 
 upon the edge of a precipice, and only assailable at one 
 point. We darted forward, jumped into the ditch, as- 
 cended the entrenchments, tore up the palisades, and 
 were in an instant in contact with the enemy, who fled in' 
 a panic. In a minute the fort was carried ; but, in the 
 darkness of the morning and the confusion of the assault 
 some escaped. When the prisoners were collected, there 
 were ninety-seven, exclusive of forty that had fled. 
 Neither the provisions which I found, nor the strength 
 of my party, justified the retention of so many prisoners) 
 on the borders of a hostile country. 
 
 ‘Before General Harris moved forward, abody of Mah- 
 ratta horse, in the service of Tippoo Saib, appeared be- 
 fore the fort, and ordered me to surrender. Though I 
 had but sixteen men, I resolved to hold out to the last. 
 But on the next day, I perceived that an officer of skill 
 and consequence had joined this party, and that a body 
 of infantry was preparing to invest the place regularly. I 
 was forced to surrender, and became a prisoner before 
 the campaign had commenced. 
 
 * I was sent off to Seringapatam. After riding a whole 
 day without a saddle, we halted in a small village, which, 
 however 4 , contained one good house, built with brick and 
 mud. Our Indian landlord directed his servants to fur- 
 nish us with mats, and we were plentifully supplied with 
 rice. During our repast, female curiosity tempted the 
 daughter of our venerable host to enter our apartment. 
 She looked upon me with the sorrowful smile of a feeling 
 heart. She was, I thought, the most enchanting creature 
 that I had ever beheld ; and, though apparently only 
 about fourteen years of age, possessed tbe form, grace. 
 
410 no sin a ; on, 
 
 and mild dignity of a woman ; for, in this country, the 
 human species arrive much sooner at perfection than in 
 Europe. She soon returned with a rich mat, which she 
 spread upon the bedstead, signing that I was to repose 
 
 there. 
 
 4 Eatigued with a long day’s jonrney, I stretched myself 
 upon the humble bed common in India, and fell asleep. 
 I was roused by screams. I instantly sprung up, seized 
 my sabre, and rushed out. But, how shall I describe the 
 horrid sight that burst upon my eyes. The sweet angel, 
 on whose countenance beamed beneficence and love, 
 lying dead, a prey to the most beastly violators. I cut 
 around me with a kind of supernatural fury. Every op- 
 ponent fell under my arm. In the midst of blood, and 
 the groans of the dying, I supported the innocent vic- 
 tim. When she opened her beauteous eyes, she faintly 
 articulated, ‘ My father !’ 
 
 4 1 carried her to the bed on which I had lain, and went 
 in search of the old man, whom I found tied to a wooden 
 pillar. I cut his bands, and led him to his daughter. 
 The meeting was too affecting to be described ; but when 
 emotions of joy had subsided, the aged Indian said, ‘ We 
 are not safe. My son, let us fly for our lives.’ 
 
 ‘We quickly left the village, which was on fire and the 
 inhabitants dispersed. The aged Indian and I supported 
 his daughter, and went to the mountains, where we came 
 to a cave. When we had crept into this snug retreat, the 
 Tn'b'-m said to me, ‘Stranger, my name is Maduro : I am 
 son to the Prince of Canara ; but I have been the victim 
 of sorrow. The disciples of Mahomet, under Hyder, 
 massacred my wife and children before my eyes ; but 
 their leader was merciful, and saved my Ada and myself. 
 Thy Christian countrymen now covet this fine country ; 
 and the evils it is destined tosuffer are partly anticipated 
 by groups of robbers, from the hands of one has thy 
 single arm just delivered us.’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ If you have been assaulted by brigands only,’ said I, 
 
 * why not go to Seringapatam, and solicit justice from 
 the Sultan?’ ‘Alas! my son,’ replied Maduro, ‘thou 
 knowest not India. Behold the smoke that now arises 
 from all the cities, towns, and villages ; see the groups of 
 fugitives flying across the plains. Before the sun goeth 
 down, every thing will either be removed or destroyed.’ 
 And this was really the case ; the whole country through 
 which the British would advance being converted into a 
 desert, and all the corn, rice, maize, &c., carded off; 
 
 ‘ I forgot to tell you that I had received a sabre-wound 
 in the head. Our fair companion was my doctress ; and 
 
TIIE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID. 
 
 411 
 
 while lier delicate finders were moving round my head, 
 1 felt the sweetest sensations. But Ada's charms could 
 not dissipate the ennui I felt in a dreary den ; and, on 
 the thiru night, I determined to explore the mountain, 
 notwithstanding the remonstrances of Madura and of 
 Ada. Armed with a musket, I issued forth, promising 
 to return before day-break. I wandered about, some- 
 times listening to the growl of bears or the cry of jackalls, 
 and at other times dashing on, as if I had some import- 
 ant purpose in view. At length, I prepared to return ; 
 but I had lost all remembrance of my route. The sun 
 rose, but I still found myself at a loss ; when, on turning 
 an angle, a party of armed men appeared on horseback, 
 one of whom levelled his piece, and spoke in a language 
 which I did not understand. Resistance or flight was 
 equally impossible, so I surrendered. 
 
 ‘ Being mounted on horseback, I was carried forwards 
 by the party, who were well-disciplined men. This gave 
 me assurance ; and, had it not been for Ada, I would not 
 have regretted my recapture. After travelling three 
 days, we reached the capital of the Mysore. I w as car- 
 ried before the Sultan. ‘Englishman/ said he, ‘you 
 were imprudent in surprising my fort with such inade- 
 quate means.’— ‘The brave,’ replied I, ‘think only of 
 executing their orders, and leave prudence to the consi- 
 deration of the commanders.’— ‘ That is well spoken, 
 Christian,’ said he ; * and thou art a valiant man, as thy 
 contest with the reprobates doth testify.’ He added, in 
 a low tone, ‘ I will think of thee.’ I had heard much of 
 the cruelty of Tippoo Saib to his prisoners ; but his coun- 
 tenance reassured me. An officer showed me into the 
 chamber which I was to occupy. A French artillery 
 officer entered my room, and shook my hand with great 
 cordiality. I found that he Was my fellow traveller from 
 Milan to Paris, when I was last upon the continent. He 
 had served under Napoleon Bonaparte in Italy, and, on 
 peace being made with Austria, was sent by the Direc- 
 tory on a mission to Tippoo Saib. This brave man, who 
 was covered with wounds, showed me much kindness. 
 
 ‘Seringapatam was surrounded by a ring fence, thirty 
 feet in breadth, which, with its vast fortifications, seem- 
 ed to render it impregnable. This idea of security the 
 sultan wished to impress upon the minds of the popu- 
 lace ; and, to show his strength, a review of his troops 
 took place five miles from the capital. Through the good 
 offices of my French friend, I was favoured with the sight 
 of the magnificent Asiatic march of the troops exhibited 
 on their return. 
 
412 rosina; or, 
 
 ‘ A troop of French dragoons and another of hussars 
 headed the procession, preceded by fifty couriers, mount-* 
 ed on dromedaries. Next marched two elephants, bear- 
 ing the royal standard, representing the sun, and the 
 moon and stars. Another elephant followed, carrying 
 the grand Tomtom, which communicates the sultan’s 
 orders by its tremendous sound. Four other elephants 
 followed, carrying the royal band. Then two elephants 
 of war marched abreast, each carrying a tower. In each 
 tower were six warriors, clothed in armour, and armed 
 with enormously large blunderbusses. The elephants 
 were followed by two troops of Abyssinian horse ; the 
 riders being armed with polished lances, with large 
 plumes of red and black ostrich feathers on their helmets. 
 A body of infantry followed, almost naked, with silk 
 scarfs, carrying long lances ornamented with feathers 
 and small bells, Next, a company of men carrying small 
 red flags, with flames of silver ; and followed by a troop 
 of nobility magnificently mounted There were twelve 
 grooms, each leading one of the sultan’s horses ; with a 
 troop of running footmen, each carrying a black staff, 
 headed with gold. After these came the officers of the 
 household, with gold chains depending on their breasts* 
 Tippoo Saib was magnificently mounted, and showed 
 great dexterity in themanagement of his horse. His eye 
 was very penetrating. The young princes followed, elated 
 with the splendour of the spectacle. Four hundred foot- 
 men, clothed in scarlet, with silver collars, and armed 
 with lances, marched on each sideof the royal household. 
 Next came a numerous body of irregular cavalry, and a 
 train of field- pieces, attended by a body of clever-look- 
 Ing gunners, under the command of Europeans. Abou» 
 five thousand Sepoys, with muskets and bayonets, fol- 
 lowed ; and the procession was closed by the Tiger Gren- 
 adiers. 
 
 ‘My appearing at large on such an occasion offended 
 the sultan ; for, in the evening, I was thrust into a cell, 
 and a sentinel was placed over me. Here, for several 
 weeks, I endured all 1 the miseries arising from vermin, 
 heat, and scanty provisions. From the anger of my 
 iailors, I inferred that the British troops had invested 
 the city. One day, perceiving the small window of my 
 cell to be darkened, 1 looked up, and beheld a lady dress- 
 ed in white. She beckoned me to approach. I obeyed 
 and received from her hands a small basket of fruit : but, 
 O heavens ! how great was my surprise to recognize the 
 beautiful Ada ! She put her finger on her lip to restrain 
 my transports, and instantly disappeared. 
 
THE VIRTUOUS COUNTRY MAID* 413 
 
 'One day, at noon, I suddenly heard the roar of can- 
 non and the continued roll of musketry indicated an at- 
 tack. My spirits were roused ; I listened to the din of 
 war with breathless interest. The tempest seemed to 
 roll nearer and nearer. Opening the door, I saw a body 
 of Grenadiers rushing towards the great gate of the 
 palace ; I heard the hurrah of English soldiery, and saw 
 their bayonets and helmets approaching. I sprung for- 
 wards like lightning, and, with a shout of joy, joined the 
 party in advance. I proclaimed my name when the pike 
 of a Highland sergeant was at my breast, but I escaped 
 with a mere scratch. 
 
 ‘ I picked up a musket, and ran forwards with the en- 
 raged soldiery, who were greedy for plunder. Parties of 
 the enemy still held out, but were unable to withstand 
 the fury of our attacks. Seeing the gate of a respectable- 
 like house standing open, curiosity tempted me to enter. 
 I arrived just in time to strike aside a bayonet aimed at 
 the breast of a gentleman, beside whom a lady was kneel- 
 ing. ‘ Countrymen,’ cried I, ‘ retire ; you are too brave 
 to commit murder.’ The three soldiers ran out, mutter- 
 ing curses against me. On looking at the persons I had 
 saved, I saw Ada and her father prostrate before me. I 
 spoke not, but stationing myself at the door, defended it 
 at the peril of my life. At one time, I and your old 
 friend, Major O’Dogherty, who is still in the service, 
 successfully resisted six Sepoys, who wished to plunder 
 the house. 
 
 ‘ When order was restored, I went to head quarters, 
 and was soon equipped and placed according to my rank. 
 Maduro informed me that his faithful banker had pre- 
 served his coral, ivory, diamonds, and gold ingots, until 
 his return to Seringapatam. 
 
 4 1 expected to be sent to Calcutta, with despatches to 
 the governor-general ; but General Harris thought pro- 
 per to entrust me with special business at Bombay. I 
 was obliged to quit this place with papers of importance, 
 and to cross the country to Bengal. I effected this long 
 and perilous journey without accident, and, on my arri- 
 val here, was highly complimented on my activity and 
 teal. I had not been a week in Calcutta, when, riding 
 out with some officers, I espied the venerable Maduro. I 
 was instantly on foot to salute him, and accepted his in- 
 vitation to accompany him home. Ada had long waited 
 for me ; she now received me with tears, nor was I less 
 aflected. Perhaps, my dear mother, you may blame my 
 weakness ; but Ada is indeed no ordinary being.’ 
 
 The rest of the letter relates to private affairs ; but I 
 
414 
 
 ROSINA 
 
 may add that my son married the Princess Ada, with 
 whom he received a fortune of thirty lacs of repeos. 
 equal to three hundred and seventy-five thousand poun 
 sterling. By his influence, he also obtained the restora- 
 tion of Maduro to his former rank, with part of his pa- 
 ternal property ; and he now rules, with the assistance 
 and advice of his son-in-law, one of the richest districts in 
 Canara. 
 
 On the late pacification of Europe, both my health and 
 my inclination induced me to return to the serene and 
 balmy climate of Italy, where I have employed my 
 leisure hours in penning these memoirs, which I intend 
 to leave to the youth of my sex generally , but more es- 
 pecially to country maidens, who, like myself in youth, 
 may possess beauty, but bs deficient in experience. My 
 life will teach such, that, however vice may seem to 
 prosper for a time, it will at last be found that virtue and 
 happiness are inseparable. 
 
 W. NICHOLSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, WAKEFIELD. 
 
Published by W. NICHOLSON & SONS, London. 
 
 SHILLING BOOKS. 
 
 Royal 32mo., Best Cloth, Gilt Back Side and Edges. 
 
 LOVER’S LANGUAGE AND POETRY OF FLOWERS. 
 
 Coloured Frontispiece. 
 
 To THE GENTLEMAN WHOM I LOVE. Steel 
 
 Frontispiece, and Vignette. 
 
 To THE LADY WHOM I LOVE. Steel Frontispiece 
 and Vignette, 
 
 A PRESENT TO THE ONE I LOVE. Coloured 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 The LOVER’S GIFT. Coloured Frontispiece. 
 
 SWEET THOUGHTS FOR THE DEAR ONE. Coloured 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 BRILLIANT AND BEAUTIFUL GEMS of SACRED 
 POETRY. Coloured Frontispiece. 
 
 POETRY FOR THE YOUNG, on Interesting Subjects. 
 Illustrated with 30 Wood Engravings. 
 
 GATHERED LILIES, or Children of Jesus taken to 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 The BASKET OF FLOWERS. A Tale for the Young. 
 
 Illustrated with Six Beautiful Engravings. 
 
 SUSAN GRAY, Or the Triumphs of Female Piety; as 
 related by a Clergyman. Illustrated. 
 
 HEART AND HAND. A Most Captivating American 
 Tale for Young People. 
 
 The GIPSY GIRL, or Elm Lodge, and the Tent in the 
 Bushes. Coloured Plate. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL AND AFFECTING TALES. Frontispiece 
 
 and Vignette. 
 
 YOUTH’S CASKET OF JEWELS, or Original and Choice 
 
 Treasures for Young Persons. Coloured Frontispiece. 
 
 TREASURY OF ANECDOTES FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 Coloured Frontispiece. 
 
 PRETTY TALES FOR YOUTH. Frontispiece and 
 Vignette. 
 
 The HONEST BOY AND HIS REWARD. Coloured 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 MARIA WEST, The Soldier’s Orphan. Steel Frontis- 
 piece and Vignette 
 
Published by W. NICHOLSON & SONS, London. 
 
 Humorous Books, Reciters and Penny Readings. 
 
 YORKSHIRE DITTIES: By John Hartley; to which 
 is added the cream of Wit and Humour, from his Un- 
 equalled Popular Writings. First and Second Series. 
 Price Is. each. 
 
 THE RAILWAY BOOK OF FUN : Comprising some 
 of the Choicest Specimens of Wit, Humour, Poetical 
 Effusions, &c., extant. By Richard Brisk. Cloth, Is. 
 
 THE MERRY COMPANION : For -all readers. Con- 
 taining a Choice Selection of the most Humorous Anec- 
 dotes, Droll Sayings, Wit, Fun, 'and Comical Incidents, in 
 Prose and Poetry ; to enliven dull hours. By Dr. Merry. 
 Cloth, Is. 
 
 THE BOOK TO KEEP THE SPIRITS UP In dull and 
 
 gloomy hours. Comprising Manifestations of Fun, Mirth, 
 Humour, Drollery, Repartee, Wit, with Laughable 
 Anecdotes, Incidents and Poetry. By J. Brighte, Esq. 
 Price Is. 
 
 THE BOOK TO BRIGHTEN A GLOOMY FACE : Or the 
 
 Book to kill Gloom, Melancholy, Low spirits, Nervous- 
 ness, Solemncholy, Dark Anticipations, Soul-killing For- 
 bodings, and thoughts of Suicide. By Cicero Merry- 
 sides. Price Is. 
 
 FUN BETTER THAN PHYSIC ; or Everybody’s Life 
 Preserver. Price Is. 
 
 JOE MILLER’S NEW JEST BOOK. Price Is. Full 
 of Wit. 
 
 The FUNNIEST OF ALL FUN, and WITTIEST OF 
 AL L WIT. Containing Jaw Cracking Tales. Price Is. 
 
 The above by Post 2d. Extra . 
 
 PUNCH MADE FUNNIER BY JUDY. Full of Rollick- 
 ing, Laughable, and Witty Pieces. Price 6d. 
 
 JOLLY LAUGHS FOR JOLLY FOLKS, or Funny Jests 
 and Stories, Jocular and Laughable Anecdotes, Jonathan 
 isms, John Buffers, and Paddyisms. Price 6d. 
 
 THE BOOK TO MAKE YOU LAUGH : and to drive 
 dull care away. By Andrew Hate-Gloom. Stiff Covers. 
 Price 6d. The above by Post Id. Extra.