L I E> HAHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 E<A48 
 
 ------
 
 EDITH VERNON; 
 
 OE, 
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 " sir, to wilful men 
 The injuries that they themselves procure, 
 Must be their schoolmasters."— King Lear. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 HOPE & CO., 16 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 MDCCCLV.
 
 HOPE A- CO , 16 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET,
 
 823 
 v. x 
 
 PEEFACE BY THE EDITOR 
 
 It may not perhaps be out of place to 
 
 give some particulars to the reader, of the 
 
 circumstances under which the following 
 
 £ pages are offered to his notice. They were 
 
 ^L written some years ago by one then in early 
 
 ^ youth, whose intellectual powers, known as 
 
 £ they were to many friends, had given much 
 
 $ promise of the future. The natural strength 
 
 & of the writer's character made her look deeply 
 
 ■•^ointo the habits of those who form what is 
 
 & called the society of the world and of fashion. 
 
 t The selfishness and unreality which she felt 
 
 £were predominant there induced her to give
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 expression to her feelings in the following 
 work. When completed, she was gratified 
 by the approbation of many friends ; but the 
 MS. was laid aside. Several books of a tone 
 somewhat similar have appeared within the 
 last ten years ; but whatever may be the 
 merits or defects of the present, it is, in point 
 of the time of being written, fairly entitled 
 to priority over any one of these. 
 
 Meanwhile, other and closer ties were 
 formed, which introduced her to a course of 
 life where the value of her judgment and 
 clear principles of action would be felt more 
 widely. Many received lasting impressions 
 of good from the practical wisdom they saw 
 in her daily life. Literary studies, to which 
 she was so much attached, were greatly in- 
 terrupted by family duties and the increasing 
 attacks of ill health. At the wish of another 
 the forgotten tale was brought to light, and 
 the writer began some corrections with a view
 
 PREFACE. V 
 
 to its publication. These were checked by a 
 recurrence of illness, and before long all hope 
 of their being resumed was past. The editor, 
 however, from a belief that even in its pre- 
 sent state the work may not be wholly with- 
 out its interest and its use, has the sad grati- 
 fication of offering it to the public, whose 
 indulgence, on account of the foregoing cir- 
 cumstances, he here ventures to bespeak. 
 
 E. 
 
 Dec. 16, 1854.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It was in the year 18 — that I first became 
 acquainted with the subject of the following 
 narrative. I had been spending the winter 
 at Hastings, and had constantly remarked a 
 very delicate though elegant-looking woman, 
 who paid her daily visits to the beach at the 
 same time as myself. She appeared to be in 
 weak health, and was always attended by a 
 footman, who, carrying her camp stool, was 
 ready to place it for her when fatigued ; and 
 sometimes, so feeble was her step, she re- 
 quired the assistance of his arm. This I had 
 abundant leisure to observe, as day by day 
 she came to her accustomed place and watched
 
 Vlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the waves as either they foamed in their 
 pride or languidly made way the one for the 
 other. How soothing to the weariness of ill 
 health to gaze on a warfare in which you are 
 not called to participate, or to be hushed by 
 that lazy monotony — action without impulse ! 
 I constantly wondered if sorrow or sickness 
 had made this lady thus early to bear the 
 appearance of age. I wondered too at her 
 loneliness — a hired attendant seemed so sad 
 a substitute for a nearer and dearer friend. 
 In fact, I wished much to make her acquaint- 
 ance. At last I was enabled to do so in the 
 following manner. Her footman was one 
 morning with her on the beach; but, at- 
 tending to some passing trifle instead of his 
 mistress, he did not perceive that her foot 
 slipped against a rolling stone, and she 
 would have fallen had I not started forward 
 and saved her. This accident led to an ac- 
 quaintance between us, which by degrees
 
 INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 ripened into a warm friendship, and each 
 day I accompanied her in her musings on 
 the shore ; and when she proposed returning 
 to her home (Deerhurst, in Derbyshire,) I 
 had promised to join her there during the 
 bright months of summer. I had before 
 this discovered that she was not so utterly 
 alone as she seemed, for she had an only 
 son whom she was then expecting from 
 Eton. And when on his arrival at home he 
 bounded into her arms in all the ardour of 
 boyish delight and fondly kissed her, her 
 calm yet impassioned manner of returning 
 his embrace, whilst murmuring her blessing, 
 proved that she had yet a link which bound 
 her to life ; and if a solitary one, it yet 
 formed the sum of her earthly happiness. One 
 day when conversing with my friend, I re- 
 marked to her how quick seemed her dis- 
 crimination of character — how playful seemed 
 her wit. and how bright her descriptions of
 
 X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 places and persons. " Yes," she replied, " a 
 desire to read character truly has always been 
 a favourite wish of mine, and I early in life 
 applied myself to it. I believe I have at- 
 tained to some skill in it. The imaginative 
 powers for which you give me credit, must, 
 I think, long ere this have been quenched by 
 the dreary realities to which the first study 
 has introduced me. When young I liked 
 to gain an insight into the character of those 
 about me, as it enabled me to get my own 
 way. In later years I have been so circum- 
 stanced, that such discrimination has been a 
 necessity to me. I have, through it, just 
 avoided being shipwrecked amongst trials of 
 no ordinary kind, and from schemes of deep 
 laid villany, which even now, though they 
 and their results almost entirely belong to 
 the past, make my spirit tremble. I can- 
 not now recall that past," added my hostess 
 after a pause, whilst a look of grieved emo-
 
 INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 tion cast a shadow over her pale, sad face. 
 " When I am no more, you shall have the 
 MS. which records these trials, with an un- 
 limited control over it." 
 
 It was on reading the narrative some 
 years after this conversation, that I deter- 
 mined to use my discretion in their publica- 
 tion, merely altering names of individuals and 
 places. The incidents were, for the most 
 part, of so private a nature as to be known 
 to none now living — the actors in the differ- 
 ent scenes were all dead — and I could not 
 but hope that both instruction and amuse- 
 ment might be found in the memoirs which 
 I shall call those of 
 
 " Edith Vernon."
 
 EDITH VERNON; 
 
 OR, 
 
 CONTEASTS OF CHAEACTEE. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 Edith Vernon was an only daughter. Her 
 father, Sir William Vernon, was a distin- 
 guished military officer; he died when Edith 
 was quite a child, and her recollections of 
 him were of that dreamy and softened cha- 
 racter which leads us to love and value an 
 impression, which has only half a reality to 
 excite it. Her only brother, some two or 
 three years older than herself, recollected 
 
 YOL. I. B
 
 Z EDITH VERNON J OB, 
 
 with an active fondness his father's generous 
 spirit, his manly, soldier-like bearing, his 
 grave and polished manners. Lady Vernon, 
 who worshipped the memory of her husband, 
 loved her son the more for his knowledge of 
 his father's excellence ; and Edith would sit 
 and listen with a feeling partly of reverence, 
 partly of vexation, to these recollections of a 
 past in which she had so little share, and in 
 which the widow and her son delighted to 
 indulge. Arthur Vernon was mild, steady, 
 and affectionate. His mother was gentle and 
 kind, but she wanted the active energy of 
 will which made part of her son's character, 
 and she therebv lost a control over Edith 
 which Arthur both possessed and exercised. 
 Lady Vernon was a perfect gentlewoman, 
 and, generally speaking, there is .perhaps no 
 influence more felt than that of refined 
 tastes, habits, and ideas. Her defect of 
 character was its passiveness ; but this shed
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 6 
 
 a quieter grace around her manners and ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 Edith Vernon was not truly amiable, 
 even as a child. She was intolerant to 
 her dolls, and pettish with her playthings. 
 She expressed, with a wonderful degree of 
 scorn for so young a child, her contempt for 
 their want of suitableness and adaptation. 
 Still her heart was kind, and her live pets 
 were the suffering or the ill-used amongst 
 animals. The character of the child con- 
 tinued to be that of the girl. She worried 
 her governesses to death. If she was naughty, 
 it was because they were unjust ; if she was 
 idle, it was owing to their instructions being 
 trite and commonplace. And so one after 
 another was tried, and each alike pronounced 
 Edith Vernon incorrigible, whilst her verdict 
 on them was, that they were detestably 
 stupid. Her feeling for her mother it would 
 be difficult to analyse. Her affection for her
 
 4 EDITH VERXOX J OR, 
 
 was more that felt by an elder to a petted 
 and younger sister, than that of mother and 
 daughter ; but she indulged in her whimsical 
 petulance, her sarcastic remarks, and her 
 wild licence of speech, regardless of the dis- 
 like Lady Vernon felt and partly expressed 
 to such outbreaks. She w^as proud of her 
 daughter, but she was partly afraid of her ; 
 and so Edith's fanciful levity was met with 
 a much-enduring look, when a sensible re- 
 monstrance would probably have checked 
 her as much as a clever one. But from her 
 early childhood Edith never asked her mo- 
 ther's advice, or made her the confidant of 
 her joys or sorrows. She freely accepted 
 her brother's sympathy, but seldom deferred 
 to his opinion ; but he was her refuge from 
 wearisome dolls and governesses, and he be- 
 came the object of her unbounded gratitude 
 when he prevailed on Lady Vernon to allow 
 his sister to share in the instructions
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 given to him by his own friend and tutor. 
 A wise man was this tutor. He was not 
 brilliant like his younger pupil, but his was 
 the disciplined mind which feels it has a 
 work to do, and in that consciousness pos- 
 sesses a quiet and dignity most likely to 
 exert a wide influence over such a mind as 
 Edith's. She felt that Mr. Bennett was not 
 actuated by the caprices which guided her, 
 that a stern rule kept alike his wishes and 
 actions under control ; and though this moral 
 training was new and little understood by 
 her, still, perhaps for that very reason, it 
 exercised over her its peculiar influence. 
 One thing was wanting in Mr. Bennett's 
 system ; it was not sufficient that he showed 
 her the right, and warned her against the 
 wrong : that mere external legislation has no 
 practical weight with the impulsive and way- 
 ward. The system of teaching should begin 
 from within, with an early insight given into
 
 6 EDITH VERNON ; OE, 
 
 motives, with a steady self-denial and self- 
 training, which constitutes a code of Chris- 
 tian morals little understood and even less 
 practised at the time of which my story 
 treats. But though so far faulty, her mental 
 training was judicious and enlarged. She 
 listened to the logical discussions which 
 arose between her brother and his tutor, till 
 she herself acquired a clearness of argument, 
 with the power of arriving at a just conclu- 
 sion. She enjoyed the classical translations 
 of the best of the poets and historians of 
 Greece and Eome ; and thus her taste was 
 early formed. She herself read with Mr. 
 Bennett the English and Italian poets, and 
 to her, history unfolded its "ample page.' 7 
 Those happy morning lessons in the old 
 library at Stoneleigh, the graceful evening 
 fireside discussions, the lounging rambles 
 through the long summer's even-tide, with 
 the mellowing sunset, the hushed folding
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 7 
 
 together of nature's wings, the moonlight 
 gleaming on the silvery rind of the old birch 
 trees, as the owl fled across them, and made 
 her plaintive moan to the night shadows — 
 then the luxurious noon-day reveries, as the 
 dark patches of quivering boughs were traced 
 on the nickering light of the sunny sward, 
 the cooing of the wood-pigeons, the summer 
 hum of bee and bird, and that twinkle in the 
 clear, pure air, as though the clouds were 
 dropping gems and gold — oh ! those re- 
 membrances of youth, of which we cannot 
 be disinherited! How they linger on in 
 their brightness, beyond the power of time 
 or change to assail or undo ! 
 
 These bright days were, however, drawing 
 to a close. Arthur Yernon had just received 
 a commission in the army ; his regiment was 
 on foreign service, and he was expected to 
 join at once, so farewell to home for him ! 
 
 Edith regretted her brother deeply. He
 
 8 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 was a link of interpretation between her and 
 her mother. He gave a sanction to the sys- 
 tem of tutorship; and therefore with him 
 also vanished Mr. Bennett. Edith vainly 
 remonstrated against this double loss; but 
 her wishes availed not. 
 
 From the days of Abelard, no tutor has 
 been retained for the sole use and benefit 
 of a lone damsel, and Lady Vernon lived in 
 too great a dread of an incongruity to have 
 listened for one instant to such a scheme ; 
 so at once, by the cruel War- office edict, 
 were swept away the satisfactions of Miss 
 Vernon's life, and she was left both to mourn 
 her absent brother and the friend who had 
 awakened (however imperfectly) her mind 
 to the perception of the good, the beautiful, 
 and the true. She was left to her mother's 
 mournful regrets for her son, and to the mo- 
 notony of Stoneleigh Park, without either 
 much companionship or lively sympathy.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Thy words were courtly flattery, such smile like 
 
 morning dew ; 
 But, oh ! love takes another tone — the tender and the 
 
 true ! 
 I know thee ! light as foam that plays the ocean waves 
 
 among, 
 I know thee ! vain as ever gaze upon the mirror flung. 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 "At last, Edith, the old house at Down- 
 ton is inhabited again ; so "Weston told me 
 this morning, when dressing me." 
 
 Thus began a conversation at the break- 
 fast table between Lady Vernon and her 
 daughter, some weeks after Arthur's de-
 
 10 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 parture, and when both had settled down to 
 the existing state of things. 
 
 " Indeed, mamma!" replied Edith. "I 
 suppose the new-comers will resemble those 
 who left, and prove very good-natured — no, 
 friendly is the term — and very common- 
 place. Will yon patronize these new peo- 
 ple?" 
 
 " Edith ! I cannot bear to hear you speak 
 so contemptuously of every one ; it is so dis- 
 tressing to me. I certainly shall call on this 
 family. The name is Trevor, and your dear 
 father had an old friend of that name." 
 
 " I like the name, mamma ; it sounds 
 malicious, so you shall please make the first 
 visit, and report progress to me, and I will 
 take a canter on horseback to cure my head- 
 ache." 
 
 Perhaps Lady Vernon thought that the 
 pale, though clear cheek looked not like 
 sickness ; the haughty, yet joyous expres-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 11 
 
 sion of the full lip, carried with it no sign of 
 languor ; and the braids of glossy golden 
 hair traced across the high forehead, and 
 contrasting with the dark eyebrow and long 
 dark lash of the blue eye ; whilst the head 
 thrown back with a gesture of laughing im- 
 patience, gave an idea of health and enjoy- 
 ment totally contradicting the excuse of ill- 
 ness. The undeveloped fulness of early wo- 
 manhood was yet unlike the thinness of weak 
 health ; there was the elastic form and half- 
 revealed symmetry of a more complete age. 
 
 " Edith, a drive will cure your ills as 
 much as a ride, and you would not wish me 
 alone to call on these strangers. I have a 
 pride and pleasure in introducing you, my 
 child." 
 
 " Then after luncheon, mamma, I will go 
 with you." 
 
 When seated in the carriage, Edith con- 
 tinued her laughing conversation.
 
 12 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 " Confess to my punctuality, and also to 
 tlic force of your own well-timed compli- 
 ment, mamma. I trust that worthy Mr. 
 and Mrs. Trevor possess no treasures in the 
 shape of daughters ; I like little boys, or 
 great boys, but daughters I never like ;" and 
 seeing her mother look grave, she added, 
 " You know that they are of the same species 
 as those never-to-be-forgotten governesses." 
 
 "And so am I, Edith," laughingly re- 
 joined Lady Vernon. 
 
 Downton was beautiful, and so was the 
 drive thither — hill and dale in sunshine and 
 in shade, the butterflies brilliant as the 
 sunbeams, and the more sober-coloured pro- 
 ductions giving a richness, though not a 
 brightness, to all around. "It is a beau- 
 tiful world," thought Edith; "it is the 
 people who are so wearying !" 
 
 They drove through the beech avenue, and 
 arrived at Downton House. Lady Vernon
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 13 
 
 sent in her name and was admitted. Edith 
 and herself were introduced to a quiet, lady- 
 like-looking woman, who seemed to be pro- 
 priety itself, with an utter want of originality. 
 A great many remarks were uttered by 
 both the elder ladies, very commonplace and 
 very true. Lady Yernon expressed herself 
 delighted with the prospect of having Down- 
 ton so agreeably inhabited. Mrs. Trevor's 
 joy on the occasion equalled Lady Yernon' s. 
 She considered Downton a very lovely place ; 
 and as the days were so long — she was as- 
 tonished to find them so long (Edith thought 
 to herself that there was no occasion for as- 
 tonishment, as this day happened to be the 
 23rd June) — they should so much enjoy their 
 summer evening drives — a species of exer- 
 cise, taken then and there, most congenial to 
 the taste of the speaker and her husband, 
 Mr. Trevor. All this and much more of 
 the same kind did Edith listen to ; but not
 
 14 EDITH VERNON ^ OR, 
 
 patiently. The expression on her counte- 
 nance was oddly divided between a look of 
 mirth and scorn; the lip was curled with 
 satire, whilst the eye was bright with sup- 
 pressed drollery. 
 
 Lady Vernon at one glance read the ex- 
 pression on her daughter's face ; and, recol- 
 lecting their conversation at the breakfast 
 table, observed, 
 
 " Edith and myself are rather solitary at 
 Stoneleigh; I should feel that a companion of 
 her own age would be a great improvement 
 to our household duet." 
 
 Mrs. Trevor, however, regretted that she 
 had no daughter; her family consisted of 
 lour sons. She then rang the bell, and de- 
 sired the servant to tell his master that 
 Lady and Miss Vernon were in the drawing- 
 room. The door almost instantly opened 
 and admitted a gentleman whom Mrs. 
 Trevor introduced as "My eldest son," and
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 15 
 
 whom we shall describe rather more lengthily. 
 In person he was slight, and rather under 
 the middle height, and would have been de- 
 cidedly plain, had it not been for the highly 
 intelligent expression of face, and the broad, 
 well-developed forehead ; the eyes were 
 brilliant, though not large. The charm of 
 the whole appearance consisted in the quiet 
 air of high breeding, in the low and sweetly 
 modulated tone of voice, and the self-pos- 
 sessed ease of manner, winch not only 
 betokened an acquaintance with the (so 
 called) best society, but that sclf-dependancc 
 which arises from a consciousness of mental 
 power and knowledge of the world. He 
 quietly glided to the chair occupied by Miss 
 Yernon, after having thrown a glance across 
 the group, which seemed at once to explain 
 to him the relative position and feelings of 
 the party. He at once began an animated 
 conversation with Edith, and, to judge by
 
 16 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 the lively manner in which this was carried 
 on, there seemed no lack of ideas or of inter- 
 est on either side. Mr. John Trevor seemed 
 describing to her some persons whom he had 
 lately met, and Edith appeared so thoroughly 
 to enter into the spirit of the description, 
 that she often made an addition to his re- 
 marks, as though she had also known these 
 people, and was assisting her companion's 
 memory. Then the surrounding country 
 was commented on, and Mr. John Trevor's 
 perception of natural beauty seemed that of 
 an artist or of a poet, and Edith listened to 
 the bright colouring he threw even over 
 common-place scenery, whilst surprise and 
 pleasure beamed on her expressive face ; 
 yet the share she took in the conversation 
 proved how capable she was of not only 
 appreciating but joining in it. They seemed, 
 indeed, mutually pleased with each other. 
 This is the kind of fascination which,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 17 
 
 when once exercised, lasts a lifetime — 
 their spirits had met — and thus was cemented 
 an influence never again to be thrown off 
 by either. This influence is unlike all other 
 — it is not love. "We often deeply and de- 
 votedly love those with whom there never 
 exists this mental communion and assimila- 
 tion. To Edith the society of Trevor pos- 
 sessed a charm scarcely to be understood 
 even by herself, and Trevor confessed to the 
 same. She knew that her emotions met an 
 answering chord in his mind, that a half- 
 expressed sentiment was understood, almost 
 anticipated by him. Could she have looked 
 forward she would have seen that Trevor was 
 her fate, though possibly never to arouse in 
 her any warmer tie. Trevor could better 
 analyse his sentiments, and he — the cold, 
 measured man of the world — responded to 
 an influence which we seldom feel can be 
 twice exerted in a lifetime. 
 
 vol. i. c
 
 18 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 11 ]STow, as you seem so much of a florist, 
 Miss Vernon," observed Trevor, " I dare say 
 you have at Stoneleigh a brilliant collection 
 of flowers." 
 
 " Indeed you are mistaken. I believe I 
 am too idle or too impatient with my poor 
 plants and bulbs. My motto with regard to 
 all my pursuits and designs is, i Poco sperar, 
 nulla chieder.' " 
 
 " And yet your appearance gives me less 
 the idea of disappointment than that of any 
 person I ever met with." 
 
 "My appearance, Mr. Trevor, is a libel 
 on everything else about me." 
 
 "Then everything else about you, Miss 
 Yernon, must indeed be perfection." 
 
 During their drive homewards Edith was 
 silent. Lady Vernon inquired her opinion 
 of the Downton family. Her reply was cau- 
 tious, and she entered but little into detail. 
 
 " Mrs. Trevor, mamma, is made up after
 
 CONTRASTS OP CHARACTER. 19 
 
 a certain pattern, and that pattern has been 
 the most common since the confusion of 
 Babel. I think Mr. John Trevor seems 
 gentlemanly and agreeable. Does he repre- 
 sent and do duty for the head of the 
 house ?" 
 
 a No! Mrs. Trevor recollected that her 
 husband was from home and apologised for 
 her mistake." 
 
 Edith privately hoped that their new ac- 
 quaintances would speedily return the visit, 
 and that she and John Trevor might become 
 very good friends. 
 
 They did become very great friends !
 
 20 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 "Arnold. — Even so — there is a woman 
 Worthy a true man's liking — were ye such, 
 Ye would have honoured her." 
 
 The Depoe^ied Teansfoemed. 
 
 Several weeks passed ; day by day did 
 Miss Vernon find some opportunity of meet- 
 ing Mr. Trevor, or else something happened 
 requiring his presence at Stoneleigh. Books 
 were mutually lent ; then the opinions of 
 both on those books were to be compared ; 
 then Mr. Trevor sang a very little, but was 
 an excellent judge of music, with a good ear 
 and correct taste. He seemed to be in 
 league with all the composers and music-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 21 
 
 sellers of the day ; for hardly was a compo- 
 sition announced as forthcoming, before the 
 opera or the song was to be found in the 
 music room at Stoneleigh, with Mr. Trevor's 
 compliments, and a request Miss Vernon 
 would pass her judgment upon it. 
 
 All this liked not Lady Vernon, and yet 
 she knew not what to do, or possibly she 
 found that nothing could be done. Edith 
 professed, and in a measure believed, that 
 her admiration of the "fine arts," and not 
 her admiration of Mr. John Trevor, was the 
 cause of her pleasure in his society, and her 
 great industry in his absence. 
 
 Lady Vernon was not insensible to the 
 improvement which had taken place in her 
 daughter, and could not but feel pleased ; 
 but yet she had misgivings as to the future. 
 There was nothing objectionable in Mr. Tre- 
 vor's manner or conduct. He appeared to feel 
 for his pupil (for so, in reality, she was) as he
 
 22 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 might haye felt for a sister. When they met, 
 his welcome was that of simple pleasure. No 
 excitement — no questionable emotion — at 
 least, none was visible. He acted to perfection 
 the part of a near neighbour in the country, 
 and left Lady Vernon no room for a single 
 objection. Music and poetry — works both 
 of history and of fiction — seemed not only to 
 have touched Edith's heart, but turned her 
 head. When in the society of Trevor, there 
 was an excitement of manner, a flush on her 
 cheek, and an expression of the eye, that 
 spoke plainly the real nature of her feelings ; 
 whilst a restlessness, and withal a Aveariness, 
 when alone with her mother, formed a strong 
 contrast to the calm and self-possessed manner 
 of her friend. 
 
 It was therefore with no small measure of 
 delight that Lady Yernon received the offer of 
 a visit from Mr. Bennett, who asked permis- 
 sion to introduce at Stoneleigh a young friend
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 2 
 
 of his, with whom he was travelling in th e 
 south of England. Lady Vernon expressed 
 her pleasure at the prospect of receiving Mr. 
 Bennett and any personal friend of his, &c. 
 
 Not a word was said to Edith on the sub- 
 ject. Her mother had that idea of Mr. Ben- 
 nett's judgment, that she wished him to meet 
 her daughter unprepared for the visit ; and 
 she trusted to his quick perception and know- 
 ledge of character to explain the conduct of 
 Edith and of Trevor. This plan she feared 
 might be defeated had Edith been aware of 
 the intended arrival. She had taken her first 
 lesson in concealment, or acting a part. 
 
 The expected guests arrived. Edith Ver- 
 non was in the library replying to some ques- 
 tion of Mr. Trevor's, and was searching in 
 several large volumes for evidence on her side. 
 
 Often her friend proposed some plan, stated 
 some fact, or started with a false premise, to 
 draw out her opinion, and thus give her a
 
 24 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 motive for thinking for herself, as also for 
 gleaning from the thoughts of others. Thus 
 it was now, with her honnet thrown off — her 
 ringlets falling in clusters over her face — her 
 attitude bespeaking the deepest attention to 
 the subject before her. As the servant an- 
 nounced the name, she paid no attention ; and 
 it was not until itwas repeatedthat she started 
 up, and, after one glance to ascertain the real 
 fact, giving her hand to Mr. Bennett, said, with 
 much joy, "I am unfeignedly glad to see 
 you, my dear sir — " 
 
 " I believe it, Miss Yernon ; and I think 
 my pleasure equals yours. But I am forget- 
 ting the rules of politeness. Allow me to 
 introduce Mr. Morton to you, Miss Yernon." 
 
 The parties so introduced bowed, and Edith 
 requested her guests to be seated. 
 
 " Now tell me, Mr. Bennett, where you 
 come from, and if you are really to pay us a 
 downright visit."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 25 
 
 u I come from the nearest post- town ; and 
 Mr. Morton and myself hope to spend a week 
 at Stoneleigh, if we may do so." 
 
 " I am not sure, Mr. Bennett, I shall give 
 permission, because you stole in in that un- 
 principled way. Mr. Morton I consider an 
 innocent person, who has been led away by bad 
 example : he shall stand or fall by himself." 
 
 " In that case, Miss Vernon, I am certain 
 of remaining here a week at the least." 
 
 " Now, Miss Vernon," said her old 
 tutor, u I am going to ask some questions 
 that savour of former discipline. How 
 prosper all the studies of old times ? Are 
 you industrious as then ? And who solves 
 knotty questions, and translates words not to 
 be found in any dictionary ?" 
 
 Mr. Bennett remarked the deep blush that 
 the latter part of the sentence called up, and 
 the evasive manner in which the answer was 
 given.
 
 26 EDITH VERNON \ OR, 
 
 "I am not bound to give any evidence 
 against myself, and am far too modest to 
 sound my own praises. Your discrimination 
 shall determine the how and the wherefore ; 
 and you have one week in which to discover 
 my mental condition. Is not that fair, Mr. 
 Morton ?» 
 
 " Perfectly so, Miss Vernon." 
 
 Lady Vernon now arrived to welcome her 
 guests, and Edith had more leisure to bestow 
 on Morton. He was singularly handsome. 
 The contour of the head and figure might 
 have served as a model for a sculptor; and 
 the dark hair that clustered round his fore- 
 head increased the general effect of his ap- 
 pearance. There was not the least degree of 
 conceit or of affectation in his manner ; but 
 Miss Vernon thought him haughty or re- 
 served, and the remarks he made on various 
 subjects, or the replies he gave to her ques- 
 tions, savoured more of calm rationality than 
 of any approach to the grace or sprightli-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 27 
 
 ness of a conversation that took place on 
 a first introduction, some months before, 
 at Downton Park. Thus much Edith de- 
 termined, " that in a week she would be 
 certain to discover his capabilities," but 
 the extent of them did not seem to her a 
 matter of much concern or worthy of much 
 speculation. 
 
 In the evening Mr. Bennett inquired if 
 any change had taken place in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Stoneleigh. 
 
 " You, Miss Vernon, shall answer my 
 questions, because I am convinced that jus- 
 tice will be done to all parties by your 
 description." 
 
 " Downton is inhabited again, and the 
 family there are agreeable." 
 
 The matter and the manner of the reply 
 were very different. 
 
 " I think," she added, " very little out- 
 ward difference is discernible in our neigh- 
 bours from month to month, and no one
 
 28 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 can answer for the changes that have taken 
 place within. At least I judge others by 
 myself. I am sure, Mr. Bennett, I am sure 
 I am very much changed from what I was 
 some twelve months since." 
 
 Mr. Bennett made no reply, and Edith 
 inquired, 
 
 "Mr. Morton, do you sing, or play, or 
 draw ? I must find you some amusement. 
 "We have a very fine collection of prints 
 from the old masters, and a good pianoforte, 
 with an ample supply of music. I think I 
 have 'done justice' in my description to our 
 belongings, so decide what you prefer." 
 
 " Oh, music, certainly ! Of course, Miss 
 Vernon, as you have a piano and music, you 
 play and sing. Let me have the pleasure of 
 hearing you, and then I will take my part 
 for your edification." 
 
 Now Mr. Morton had a very fine voice 
 and sang remarkably well, but then he
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 29 
 
 placed the piece of music before him, and 
 sang as other people do. Edith recollected 
 that John Trevor very seldom sang from 
 notes, bnt composed as he went on, some- 
 times music as well as words. His perform- 
 ance more resembled that of an improvvisatore, 
 and it was generally suited to the humour of 
 the moment, grave or gay, and often seemed 
 a musical illustration of the subject under 
 discussion. Therefore, when Edith thanked 
 Mr. Morton for the pleasure he had afforded 
 her, she felt convinced that no one ever did 
 or could please her so much as Trevor. 
 Then the prints were examined and com- 
 mented on. Mr. Morton's opinion was that 
 of a connoisseur — he gave praise where it 
 was due, calmly and dispassionately, but it 
 was not given with any imagination — not as 
 though there was a kindred spirit within 
 that claimed sympathy with the works of
 
 30 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 The next clay was Sunday. On walking 
 to church Lady Vernon introduced her 
 guests to the Downton party, and after a 
 little while they grouped themselves [ as 
 best suited their tastes. This, by the way, 
 is always the case, and it is amusing in a 
 vast crowd to observe how different persons 
 arrange themselves in small detachments, as 
 though some secret springs acted on seven 
 or eight different people and obliged them to 
 move or talk in unison, so that what seemed 
 at first a mass of confusion, by degrees be- 
 comes arranged and orderly. Those of the 
 Trevors who were mere boys remained to- 
 gether, evidently full of fun or mischief, as 
 every now and then a suppressed laugh 
 escaped them. Mr. Trevor (who by this 
 time had been duly introduced to Lady 
 Vernon) joined her, Mr. Bennett, and Mrs. 
 Trevor. 
 
 And the other group consisted of Edith,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 31 
 
 Mr. Morton, and Mr. John Trevor; the 
 latter inquired of Miss Vernon " if she could 
 give any reason for refusing to believe that 
 we have enjoyed a previous existence — per- 
 haps even more than one, a theory which 
 might account for our inherent prejudices 
 and prepossessions in the case of different 
 individuals and things." 
 
 u You know, Miss Vernon," continued 
 Trevor, " the Old Testament does not say 
 anything to disprove such a belief, and this 
 fact is sometimes adduced as evidence against 
 the later revelation." 
 
 " I cannot agree with you, Mr. Trevor," 
 and Edith quoted several passages that proved 
 her companion to be in error; "and as the 
 Old Testament refers to our creation and the 
 New to our redemption, parallel passages of 
 that kind can scarcely be looked for." 
 
 This remark brought them to the old- 
 fashioned country church, and Trevor wished
 
 32 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 Miss Vernon " good bye," with a promise 
 that he should have fresh arguments against 
 her when they met again. Then bowing to 
 Mr. Morton he left them. 
 
 After the morning service the subject 
 was renewed, and Trevor inquired of Henry 
 Morton his view of the subject. 
 
 " I heard the opinion of yourself and Miss 
 Vernon for the first time just before entering 
 church; I have therefore had no time to give 
 the subject a thought." 
 
 " You mean to infer, Mr. Morton, that 
 the house of God is the place for prayer and 
 not for idle speculations. I was wrong in 
 forgetting that." 
 
 Mr. Morton smiled, and then gave his 
 ideas on the previous existence of man with 
 clearness and force ; it proved that his mind 
 was well arranged and ordered. 
 
 "Mr. Trevor, 7 ' said Edith, "I think you 
 are quite wrong in saying that the Old Tes-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 33 
 
 tament gives us more ground than the New for 
 supposing we may have lived before. Gene- 
 sis gives a distinct account of our first being, 
 and in the New Testament we have only 
 an account of what man is now, and what 
 he will be or may hope to be hereafter." 
 
 John Trevor only bowed, and remarked, 
 " that if his assertion had been correct, Miss 
 Vernon would have reflected less on the 
 subject." 
 
 Mr. Morton disliked this species of argu- 
 ment. He was at a loss to ascertain what 
 good it could do, what end was gained by 
 leading Edith into the midst of such vain 
 theories, such idle speculations. 
 
 " Your doubts will not be solved, and you 
 will at last bewilder yourself." 
 
 Edith's answer was, "Mr. Morton, I hate 
 uncertainty." 
 
 " Then, Miss Vernon, you must hate the 
 very terms of your existence; our very 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 selves, everything connected with, us is un- 
 certain, and a mystery. A wide field is 
 thus opened for submission and faith. The 
 exercise of these qualities requires more 
 effort than the wish to solve the most diffi- 
 cult mystery. Shall we change the sub- 
 ject ?" 
 
 Miss Vernon thought this view very dry 
 and dull, when compared with the spirited 
 disquisitions that took place between herself 
 and Trevor. He always hailed with delight 
 her doubts and bewilderments, and encour- 
 aged her pondering over these abstract sub- 
 jects. She was pleased with John Trevor 
 for acknowledging that he had mis-spent 
 the last two hours, and admired Mr. Morton 
 for having an opinion of his own. 
 
 The visit was prolonged to a fortnight. 
 
 Edith paid the most undivided attention 
 to Morton; she referred to his judgment, 
 sang the songs he asked for, gave the pre-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 35 
 
 ference to his preferences, and all this to 
 induce some show of resentment from Mr. 
 Trevor. But, no ! he seemed to wish this 
 himself, and, far from being annoyed, ap- 
 peared quietly to make way for Morton as a 
 thing of course. And Edith, who had hoped 
 that the appearance of a rival would induce 
 something more definite from Trevor, found 
 that her plans did not succeed, that his 
 feelings towards herself were still a mystery, 
 and this scheme had made her quite aware 
 that she loved Trevor. Mr. Bennett's opi- 
 nion coincided with that of his former pupil ; 
 but he told Lady Vernon that, as far as he 
 could judge, Mr. Trevor seemed clever and 
 well-disposed.
 
 36 EDITH VERNON ) OB, 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 "Love, that meets not with love, its true nature revealing, 
 Grows ashamed of itself, and demurs : 
 If you cannot lift hers up to your state of feeling, 
 You must lower down your state to hers." 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 " I have brought you, Miss Vernon, a col- 
 lection of flowers to cheer your solitude," 
 said Mr. Trevor, placing before Edith a 
 superb bouquet. "I am sure you must be 
 very dull now your guests are gone — the 
 hall deserted." 
 
 " Thank you, very much, for those beau- 
 tiful flowers ; but I am not at all dull. I
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 37 
 
 have promised Mr. Bennett not only to be 
 very industrious for the next three months, 
 but to give absolute proofs of my industry. 
 I have no time to be dull." 
 
 "I hope, Miss Yernon, the inference to 
 be drawn is, that you have ample time to be 
 merry. Will you take a ride this morning 
 with Charlie and myself?" 
 
 Charlie was a younger brother of Trevor's. 
 
 " I cannot to-day, because mamma wishes 
 me to join her in a walk to old Mrs. Wil- 
 kins', and I promised her I would do so ; 
 but, Mr. Trevor, you can remain here and 
 amuse me for the next hour, for I feel very 
 stupid." 
 
 This contradictory evidence proved to 
 Trevor that Edith was wishing to appear 
 indifferent to himself and those who were 
 gone. He saw her whole disappointment at 
 the past, that she felt angry with him, and 
 angry with herself for being so ; he deter-
 
 38 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 mined, therefore, not to allude either to Mr. 
 Bennett or his young friend, but to place 
 himself in the same position with regard to 
 Edith that he was before their arrival. He 
 talked of indifferent subjects, and contrived 
 occasionally to throw a degree of interest, 
 almost of tenderness, in his manner to Miss 
 Vernon. Lord Byron had then just become 
 known as a writer — he had first become 
 famous — and Mr. Trevor spoke of his poetry, 
 of the poet himself, of imaginative persons 
 in all ages. An anecdote skilfully introduced, 
 a clever reflection made, a new idea started, 
 and occasionally, as I have said, a degree of 
 tenderness in his manner towards his com- 
 panion, all conspired to make the hour pass 
 quickly, to make Edith more in love than 
 ever, and Mr. Trevor's dominion more com- 
 plete. 
 
 "I have talked against time, because I 
 had only one hour allowed me, and that I see
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 39 
 
 is just past; I wish you a pleasant walk, 
 and hope another time I shall be more for- 
 tunate." 
 
 " You can remain till after luncheon, Mr. 
 Trevor; we do not walk till then." 
 
 "No, no; I must take my leave now. 
 Thank you, Miss Yernon, for bearing so 
 patiently with so talkative a person." 
 
 A slight sneer passed for an instant over 
 the face of Mr. Trevor ; but he shook hands 
 with much friendliness of manner, and left 
 Stoneleigh satisfied the day was his own. 
 
 The next three months were a repetition 
 of the three preceding ones. 
 
 With the Christmas, its frost and snow, 
 came also the two gentlemen. Edith had 
 profited by experience. She saw the folly 
 of attempting to pique Mr. Trevor, or to 
 throw him for an instant off his guard. 
 So, when the different parties met, her man- 
 ner was easy and natural to all. Besides,
 
 40 EDITH VEKSON ; OR, 
 
 from the state of the weather, the meetings 
 were less frequent, and when they were 
 thrown together in the course of their rides 
 and walks, Edith was seldom, if ever, pre- 
 sent. She had done all Mr. Bennett re- 
 quired of her, and so he was pleased, and by- 
 setting before her the necessity there was 
 for exertion independent of the wishes of 
 any human being, he raised her standard 
 of action, and proved to her that she was 
 a responsible agent, and held accountable 
 by her Maker. Thus he endeavoured to 
 make her less under the control of Trevor, 
 without giving her to suppose such was his 
 intention, and Edith, who had on all occa- 
 sions a sufficiently high spirit and will of 
 her own, felt a kind of pride in knowing 
 that she had delight in pleasing her old 
 tutor; and this was not the first time she 
 had felt humbled at the control or fascina- 
 tion Trevor exercised over her.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 41 
 
 A hoar frost covered the ground — earth 
 looked like fairyland. Miss Vernon was 
 describing to Morton the enchanted appear- 
 ance of even every little shabby cow-shed or 
 miserable hut when decked out in the most 
 beautiful of Nature's devices. She was 
 wishing that our feelings, our views, could 
 assume so bright an appearance — that dull 
 realities could be transformed into such bril- 
 liant imaginings. Mr. Morton did not 
 agree with her. "Kealitics are best for us," 
 was his quiet reply. 
 
 "I am come to the conclusion, Mr. Mor- 
 ton, that you have no feeling." 
 
 " I think you do me injustice. I hope 
 you do ; at least," replied Mr. Morton, with 
 more emotion than the remark seemed to 
 call for. 
 
 "I sometimes have thought so, and in- 
 tend for the future to like you very much," 
 was her answer.
 
 42 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 He looked into her face, and saw there 
 the calmness of friendship. She observed 
 the expression of disappointment that passed 
 over his. She did not know the feeling of 
 wretchedness with which he thought " She 
 is now beginning to learn to like me, when 
 I have loved her passionately for months." 
 
 He left the room. 
 
 Edith burst into tears! Why, thought 
 she, is human life such a scene of disap- 
 pointment and misery? I have given my 
 affections where I am not certain of a re- 
 turn. The future is to me dark and unpro- 
 mising. And Mr. Morton, highly principled 
 and excellent as he is — would that we had 
 never met, since I have thus unavoidably 
 given him cause for sorrow ! 
 
 She knew that she was beloved, "for 
 quickly comes such knowledge;" and as 
 the evil was past recall, she resolved that no 
 hasty word, no satirical expression, should
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 43 
 
 wound his feelings. No ! she would en- 
 deavour by kindness and attention to com- 
 pensate for any disappointment of which she 
 might have been the cause. 
 
 A woman cannot but feel gratitude to the 
 man who has bestowed on her his affections. 
 Edith Vernon did so to Mr. Morton; and 
 while she cordially agreed in the truth of 
 the words, "that all are born to trouble," 
 she resolved that nothing on her part should 
 be wanting to make the load as endurable 
 as possible. 
 
 The next day was the last of the visit. 
 Edith scarcely spoke ; and as she bent over 
 her work she devoutly wished that the hour 
 was come in which to say " Good bye." 
 Lady Vernon repeated her hopes of receiving 
 her visitors again at Stoneleigh. And as 
 the hall door closed on them, Edith's fer- 
 vent prayer was, that she might never again 
 give a moment's uneasiness to any one.
 
 44 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 The winter was agreeably spent, for Ar- 
 thur Vernon paid his family a visit. He 
 was delighted with his sister, she was so 
 improved. One day when he acknowledged 
 to her that he thought so — that she had 
 even outstepped a brother's vivid imagin- 
 ings — she said, in reply, " Dear Arthur, it 
 is all owing to Mr. Trevor." 
 
 This, surely, was a mode of introducing 
 their neighbour to her brother's notice that 
 prepossessed Arthur not a little in favour 
 of his sister's friend. And when he became 
 more intimately acquainted with John Tre- 
 vor, he was obliged to confess that much as 
 he had enjoyed his mother's and sister's 
 society, his pleasure had been considerably 
 enhanced by the society of some of the 
 Downton party. 
 
 " But, dearest Edith, be not too hasty in 
 your unqualified admiration of this new 
 friend. Much as I admire his talents, there
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 45 
 
 is a something in his expression, and also 
 in his opinions, that I do not quite like. 
 I trust you are quite indifferent to him," 
 added her brother, suddenly bending his 
 eyes on her glowing cheek. " I could ill 
 bear, my love, to know you had been made 
 wretched. Be careful how you love." 
 
 The advice came too late ; but Edith 
 thanked her brother for it, and felt, with 
 some regret, that to her it was useless. 
 Mrs. Trevor was delighted with Arthur. 
 He had grown very handsome. She told 
 him that he was, and volunteered the infor- 
 mation that through life she had always felt 
 an especial regard for good-looking men or 
 women. 
 
 Those who had seen Mr. Trevor, her wor- 
 thy husband, could scarcely comprehend 
 under what delusion her choice had been 
 made. 
 
 "We are going to London the beginning
 
 46 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 of next week," said Edith to Mrs. Trevor. 
 "Mamma lias some business there, and Arthur 
 and myself have a strong fit of curiosity — I 
 to see London, and he to mark my raptures 
 at the sight of it." 
 
 " Have you never been in town, my dear 
 Miss Edith ? I must make a point of calling 
 on Lady Vernon to give her some advice and 
 information on the subject of lodgings and 
 hotels." 
 
 "Thank you for your good intentions, 
 Mrs. Trevor, but we are to remain in Gros- 
 venor Street, on a visit to a friend of 
 mamma's," said Edith rather flippantly. 
 
 " Oh ! I am so sorry ; still I shall call on 
 Lady Yernon, in case she should have any 
 questions to ask me, or I may think of 
 something to tell her, though you are going 
 to stay with a friend. I am quite sorry for 
 that." 
 
 She then debated many other points with
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 47 
 
 Edith, starting objections, raising difficulties 
 which, she quickly smoothed away, devising 
 schemes at one moment which at the next 
 she rejected with disgust, and, in fact, taking 
 so much useless trouble, that Edith's pati- 
 ence began to wax very low; and Arthur 
 thought it best to propose their return to 
 Stoneleigh. They then separated, Mrs. Tre- 
 vor taking a most affectionate leave of the 
 young people, in case they should not meet 
 again ; though she repeated to the last her 
 intention of coming to Stoneleigh previous 
 to their departure. 
 
 "I think, Arthur, that good lady at 
 Downton is the most wearying person. She 
 persists in thrusting her advice on you ; and 
 if you do not require it at that time, she 
 thinks it may or must come in in the course 
 of your life." 
 
 "Yes, Edith, she is not very clever, or 
 very original ; but she is kind-hearted, and
 
 4S EDITH YEKNON ; OK, 
 
 thinketh no evil ; and that, my dear, in a 
 cold world like this, is more to be valued 
 than cleverness or worldly wisdom. I wish, 
 during your passage through life, you may 
 never feel so desolate that you would cherish 
 a kind word from a friendly lip more than 
 all the wit that ever sparkled or amused." 
 
 u Thank you, dearest Arthur, for all your 
 kind wishes for me. I shall not want a friend 
 whilst you are spared to me." 
 
 They reached home ; and Edith felt that a 
 brother's love is a pure feeling, which can 
 only bring a blessing. It seems, even in 
 this cold, unsatisfactory world, a something 
 sufficient. 
 
 "You will not quite forget old friends, 
 Miss Vernon?" said John Trevor, as he bade 
 her farewell. "I am sure we shall remember 
 you ; but that is a small concession. It is 
 almost a mockery to say that this neighbour- 
 hood contains nothing to supply your place."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 49 
 
 " I shall not forget," was Edith's quiet 
 reply, as she gave him her hand at parting. 
 And she kept her word. Whether he did or 
 not, whether there was truth or falsehood in 
 his professions, those who finish this narra- 
 tive will discover. 
 
 VOL. J
 
 50 EDITH VERNON ] OR> 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 " Doge.— "Lis well ! 
 And may be better ; but whate'er betide, 
 Be thou at least kind to my memory. 
 
 " Angiolina. — Why speak you thus ? 
 
 " Doge. — It is no matter why ; 
 But I would still, whatever others think, 
 Have your respect both now and in my grave. 
 
 " Ang. — "Why should you doubt it? has it ever failed ? 
 
 " Doge. — Come hither, child ; I would a word with 
 you: 
 Tour father was my friend." 
 
 Doge of Venice. 
 
 Admiral Thornton had been an old and 
 valued friend of Sir William Vernon's, and 
 had been chosen by him for the guardian of 
 his children when their natural protector 
 should be no more. The premature death of
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 51 
 
 Sir "William gave him this right when Ar- 
 thur and Edith were mere children ; and no 
 one conld have been appointed who inter- 
 fered less with a mother's wishes than Admi- 
 ral Thornton. Lady Vernon exercised un- 
 limited control over her children, and where 
 the admiral interfered, by virtue of his office, 
 he managed to do so to the satisfaction of all 
 parties. 
 
 But perhaps nothing is less of a Chester- 
 field, and more unconfiding, than law and 
 lawyers. So when Arthur Vernon attained 
 the age of twenty-one, there were papers to 
 sign, and several legal matters to arrange, 
 that required Lady Vernon's presence in 
 London, and a meeting between herself and 
 the guardian of her children, whose services 
 were so soon to be rendered useless. Admi- 
 ral Thornton had often received a visit from 
 Arthur when he was a mere boy, and since 
 he had entered the army; but of Edith, 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF
 
 52 EDITH VEKN0N J OR 
 
 since she was four years old, he had seen 
 nothing; and he looked forward to the 
 meeting with the delight of an old man who 
 has no child or relations of his own, and who 
 wishes for a something to indulge and doat 
 upon. His wife, Lady Charlotte Thornton, he 
 did indulge, but did not doat on ; and those 
 who knew the warmth of heart, the kind- 
 ness of feeling, that possessed Admiral Thorn- 
 ton, did occasionally marvel how he could 
 have patience with the piece of frigidity 
 styled his wife. She seemed to feel interest 
 in nothing, to know neither the sentiment 
 of love or hate, envy or malice; and if a 
 negative can be loveable, Lady Charlotte 
 was ; but she seemed only to inspire nega- 
 tive feelings in those who knew her. Per- 
 haps, as if to render Pope's assertion of 
 " women having no character at all" un- 
 true, she was as obstinate, as unmoved in 
 any opinion she had formed, as could be ; and
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 53 
 
 while her calm manner of saying " No," or 
 " I do not think so," left you every reason 
 to suppose she would easily be made a con- 
 vert, nothing, in fact, was more unlikely, 
 more hopeless. And when Admiral Thorn- 
 ton expressed almost boisterous delight at 
 the prospect of so soon renewing his half 
 acquaintance with Edith, Lady Charlotte 
 looked on perfectly unconcerned, and re- 
 marked with great coldness and in her pecu- 
 liarly apathetic manner the words, "It is 
 surprising." 
 
 "What is surprising, Lady Charlotte?" said 
 her husband rather hastily, provoked more at 
 the manner than the matter of the speech. 
 " Pray, what is so surprising?" 
 
 " That any one can feel so much delight 
 at the arrival or departure of any human be- 
 ing — that is so surprising." 
 
 When the Vernons arrived in Grosvenor 
 Street, Admiral Thornton gave them a wel-
 
 54 EDITH VERNON ; OK, 
 
 come to his house with a sincerity of manner 
 that made Edith's eyes fill with tears ; and 
 afterwards, when she was presented to Lady 
 Charlotte, and felt the pressure of her long, 
 thin, cold fingers, and heard her say, " How 
 d'ye do, Miss Yernon? I have never seen 
 you before," the contrast between man and 
 wife was so ludicrous that her tears were ex- 
 changed for a suppressed smile. 
 
 " I hope, my love, you will be happy here. 
 Ask for anything that comes into your little 
 head, and if an old man's money or influence 
 can procure it, it shall be yours." 
 
 Edith thanked Admiral Thornton earnestly 
 and gracefully; and there was something very 
 fascinating in her smile and manner when she 
 so chose it. As they left the room, her guar- 
 dian's expressions of admiration and pleasure 
 were unbounded; and they passed undis- 
 turbed by any remarks of Lady Charlotte's. 
 She happened to be knitting, and at that
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 55 
 
 moment was employed in counting her 
 stitches. 
 
 All the sights of London were to be shown 
 to Edith Vernon. She had only the difficulty 
 of selection. 
 
 " I know so little of the merits of the dif- 
 ferent exhibitions, how can I select so as to 
 see everything reasonably ? By reasonably, 
 I mean that the recollection of what I saw to- 
 day will not make to-morrow's sights appear 
 commonplace or less interesting. I should 
 ascend in the scale of admiration each day.' 1 
 
 " I see, my love," replied her old friend ; 
 " I will make a sketch of all that should 
 be done on each successive day ; and, with 
 my programme in your hand, and Arthur 
 as a guide, you will get on admirably. Your 
 mother and myself will attend to business 
 during the morning ; and then I shall be with 
 you all the evening. You will not refuse the 
 escort of an old man?"
 
 56 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 ' l J^o, indeed, Admiral Thornton ; I only hope 
 I shall not feel so ranch preference for yonr 
 society as to make Arthur quite jealous." 
 
 " Ah! flattery, flattery!" said the Admiral, 
 shaking his head, and, withal, looking so 
 pleased. 
 
 On Arthur Vernon's coming of age, he was 
 to have twenty thousand pounds settled on 
 him, which was to be increased to thirty thou- 
 sand when he attained the age of twenty- 
 eight. Eventually at Lady Vernon's death, 
 he, and afterwards his children, were to come 
 into the possession of the whole of Sir "William 
 Vernon's fortune, with the exception of ten 
 thousand pounds to be settled on Edith. This 
 money he could not dispose of or will away ; 
 so that, in the event of his dying childless, 
 the whole property reverted to Edith, and she 
 would become the heiress to about four thou- 
 sand a-year. This being ascertained, Lady 
 Vernon reflected, with very little satisfaction,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 57 
 
 that, ill case of her brother's death, Edith 
 would come into possession of a fortune that 
 would make her an object of speculation to 
 the unprincipled and needy : the former ad- 
 jective she mentally added to the name of 
 Trevor. This reflection made her desire more 
 fervently than ever the life of her son ; and 
 she expressed some such opinion to Admiral 
 Thornton. 
 
 " I think Edith ill-used, my dear madam," 
 was his answer. " I should wish men and 
 women more equally dealt with in the divi- 
 sion of wealth. I should be quite indignant 
 did I not feel assured that it is in my power 
 to make Edith as rich as her brother.' ' 
 
 " Whatever your intentions may be with 
 regard to Edith, my dear sir, I trust you will 
 not mention them to her or any one else. I 
 should consider it quite a misfortune for my 
 daughter to suspect herself the heiress of so 
 good a fortune."
 
 58 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 "I should wish her to know whatever 
 would make her happy. I shall judge, my 
 dear Lady Vernon." 
 
 This was said in a very testy manner ; and 
 the affectionate ending was spoken in a very 
 half-pleased tone. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, Lady Ver- 
 non reminded Edith that they had an engage- 
 ment for that evening at Lady Endlesham's, 
 in Grosvenor Square. 
 
 " I am so sorry, mamma; I wished to have 
 heard the opera to-night." 
 
 "Well 3 then, my dear," said Admiral 
 Thornton, " you shall go to the opera." 
 
 Lady Vernon interfered, and said that her 
 daughter could not bear the excitement of a 
 ball and opera the same evening. 
 
 " Nor shall she. I will make an excuse 
 to Lady Endlesham, and you shall hear the 
 ' Semiramide ' performed." 
 
 Here Lady Charlotte observed that " Miss
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 59 
 
 Vernon must perform her engagement in 
 Grosvenor Square." 
 
 " Leave it to me ! leave it to me ! Lady 
 Endlesham shall be satisfied, and my little 
 Edith shall say and do what she pleases." 
 
 " Thanks, my dear sir," said Edith ; " but 
 I think I had better postpone the opera till 
 some other time." 
 
 "No; you shall go with me this evening. 
 When we meet at dinner, you shall confess 
 that I can negotiate." 
 
 And so it happened. The whole affair was 
 managed successfully, and every one pleased, 
 and Admiral Thornton and Arthur delighted 
 with Edith's appearance as well as with the 
 " Semiramide." 
 
 Edith met at Admiral Thornton's a Mr. 
 Errington. She was introduced to him, and 
 he appeared so well pleased with his new ac- 
 quaintance, that he improved his opportuni- 
 ties of meeting her on all occasions.
 
 60 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 Mr. Errington was a man of family and 
 fortune, gentlemanlike in his appearance 
 and manner; and Lady Vernon watched with 
 some anxiety the progress of his admiration 
 for her daughter, and the effect it had on her. 
 They appeared very good friends. Edith was 
 his partner in the ball-room, and he was her 
 companion in the Park, Kensington Gardens, 
 and all fashionable places of morning resort. 
 This continued during the remainder of the 
 Vernons' stay in London ; and the gay laugh 
 and merry repartee seemed to proceed equally 
 from Mr. Errington and his new acquaintance 
 whenever they met. Neither Lady Yernon 
 nor Admiral Thornton felt anything but plea- 
 sure at the increase of their intimacy. 
 
 " "Well, Edith, which carries the day — the 
 old man or the young one ? I mean Admiral 
 Thornton or Mr. Errington." 
 
 "That is a trap," replied Miss Yernon, 
 laughingly. "I am half inclined not to be
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 61 
 
 caught in anything so palpable. However, 
 a spirit of rivalry might spoil your temper, so 
 I shall candidly confess that — that — Admiral 
 Thornton has won my affections." 
 
 " I ought not to complain of your want of 
 taste in that case, Edith ; and yet it seems 
 odd to me that not one of the noble fellows 
 you have met in society has made any im- 
 pression on you. Are you leaving London 
 quite heart-whole ?" 
 
 "Perfectly, my dear sir. Not a crack — 
 not a puncture sufficiently large to admit the 
 point of Queen Mab's smallest needle." 
 • " Ah ! then you must have left your heart 
 in Devonshire." 
 
 Edith Vernon rose from her chair, and 
 said, with much comic dignity, " I have con- 
 fessed my love for you. I have laid aside all 
 womanly reserve, maiden bashfulness, and 
 my own blushes ; and now, sir, you mock me 
 with these suspicions, and seem to doubt my
 
 62 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 faith, my truth, my everything in the world," 
 continued she, laughing, and left the room. 
 
 " Provoking girl!" thought Lady Yernon, 
 and remarked aloud, " Edith is far too arti- 
 ficial for me, or yourself, Admiral Thornton. 
 I have often been amused and half provoked 
 by the skilful manner in which she evades a 
 reply that is disagreeable to her. You can 
 elicit nothing from her. She is a strange 
 compound of guile and guilelessness." 
 
 " Yes," said Arthur, who was in the room ; 
 "but the latter quality much predominates." 
 
 " That is right, Arthur. I like to hear you 
 take my little god- daughter's part," replied 
 the Admiral. 
 
 A few days after this, they had an engage- 
 ment at the house of the Duchess of S , 
 
 and the brilliant ball to which they were in- 
 vited was the finale of their London dissipa- 
 tion. 
 
 Edith's dress was an embroidered India
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 63 
 
 muslin, without ornament of any kind, ex- 
 cept one pale rose in her hair. Yet she looked 
 distinguished, and was remarked on account 
 of the taste displayed in her simple toilette 
 and from the modest loveliness of her person. 
 
 As usual, Mr. Errington was the first to 
 claim her hand for the next cotillon; and, 
 when the dance was concluded, led his partner 
 to a seat, placed himself near her, and re- 
 commenced the conversation that had been 
 interrupted. 
 
 " So you will leave London without one 
 regret?" 
 
 " "Not so. I shall feel a regret, but still 
 think of the pleasure of returning home ; the 
 delight of that thought — " 
 
 " You will forgive me, Miss Yernon, if I 
 ask on whom that solitary regret is lavished?" 
 
 " I will answer you most readily — my one 
 regret is for Admiral Thornton." 
 
 " Then, on the thousands you have met in
 
 64 EDITH VEKNON J OE 
 
 London, you do not deign to waste one 
 thought?" 
 
 " They are but acquaintances, Mr. Erring- 
 ton, and only acquaintances of a few weeks. 
 I am not ungrateful to those I know and have 
 cause to love ; but I cannot feel any deep 
 sympathy with strangers." 
 
 " If Miss Vernon would allow those whom 
 she now considers as mere acquaintances, in 
 the course of time to call themselves her 
 friends, it would be deemed a privilege by 
 those who know her most slightly. Name 
 any length of time that shall give me reason 
 to hope for a place in your esteem. I will 
 wait patiently — yes, cheerfully — with such a 
 hope in view." 
 
 " We leave London almost immediately, 
 else I feel assured that Mr. Errington's so- 
 ciety would be most agreeable — most wel- 
 
 come." 
 
 " Is that really your feeling, Miss Vernon,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. G5 
 
 and not mere words of compliment? You 
 would not, then, refuse to see me when you 
 return into Devonshire ? Might I hope that 
 in time I might claim something warmer than 
 mere esteem ?" 
 
 " My esteem, my friendship, Mr. Erring- 
 ton, you should have, but it is all I have to 
 give." 
 
 " That would be a valuable boon," replied 
 Mr. Errington sorrowfully. " I thank you 
 though for your candour ; I might have been 
 induced to ask for something more." And 
 then he added, after a slight pause, " Even 
 now I may some day claim your friendship." 
 
 Thus they parted. Edith felt vexed that 
 she should have been the cause of disappoint- 
 ment again, and to an individual so amiable, 
 whose society had afforded her so much 
 pleasure. She half feared that in her igno- 
 rance of the world she had construed a few 
 civil farewell speeches into something of 
 
 VOL. i. F
 
 66 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 deeper import. But she had this cause of 
 satisfaction, Mr. Errington could be under 
 no delusion. 
 
 "When a man is rich, and with no one to 
 lay claim to his wealth, each friend supposes 
 he may be the fortunate individual who 
 shall possess the riches. From the future 
 being so indefinite people feel a vague cer- 
 tainty. 
 
 Thus it had been with Admiral Thornton. 
 Mothers had inquired after his health, 
 daughters had paid him a thousand delicate 
 attentions, younger sons had offered to go 
 for him, to come for him, to perform any 
 service — all had failed to elicit any marked 
 preference ; the final destination of Admiral 
 Thornton's property remained a mystery. 
 
 But when the Yernons came to London, 
 the attachment Admiral Thornton evinced 
 for them, and especially for Edith, was re- 
 marked and commented on. The only thing,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 67 
 
 therefore, left for disappointed claimants was 
 to pay her such attention, that through a 
 connection with her they might indirectly 
 derive benefit from the thousands that were 
 supposed to belong to Admiral Thornton. 
 
 This partly accounted for Edith's popu- 
 larity ; and yet much was owing to her own 
 merit. Few were so unobservant as not to 
 remark that her mind was highly cultivated, 
 and her natural talent above the common 
 class. This, added to her lovely and intelli- 
 gent countenance, and her polished manners, 
 caused her society to be sought for, and her 
 appearance greeted with real admiration. 
 
 Admiral Thornton did uot reveal to Edith 
 his intentions with regard to his property ; 
 but he told her in any difficulty to apply 
 to him, and she should never want a friend. 
 
 "Mind, my dear, you never marry to 
 please any one but yourself; it is a bad plan. 
 I married to please my father and my mother,
 
 68 EDITH VERXON J OE, 
 
 elder brother, and a rich old aunt. See what 
 a mess I made of it." 
 
 Edith laughingly thanked him for his ad- 
 vice, and thought that in contriving to please 
 his relations by one act and deed, he had 
 been somewhat unfortunate. 
 
 Lady Charlotte was neither pleased nor 
 sorry when the Yernons took their depar- 
 ture. 
 
 "She hoped they would not meet with 
 any serious accident on the road, or lose 
 their lives. If they ever came again to 
 London, she was sure she should remember 
 them, &c." 
 
 It was the beginning of a mild April that 
 Lady Vernon returned to Stoneleigh. The 
 faintest green was just tinging the leaves, 
 the air was laden with the sweet breath of 
 violets and primroses, the birds seemed to 
 rejoice in the future that awaited them — a 
 future whose beauty was ushered in by so
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 69 
 
 much present promise, the harbinger of 
 brighter skies and sunnier days ; the thin, 
 blue smoke curled upwards from the chim- 
 neys of the cottages, and formed a contrast 
 with the tender green of the earliest tints of 
 spring ; the blue sky was undimmed, save by 
 here and there a passing cloud. As these 
 natural beauties were heightened by being- 
 reflected " from looks that she loved," Edith 
 leaned back in the carriage, and felt (she did 
 more than acknowledge) the beauty of the 
 scene around her. 
 
 The time may come when the loveliness 
 of nature is acknowledged but not felt — when 
 there seems an icy separation between our 
 perception of it and the rapturous thrill of 
 delight which we once felt. We say "this 
 is beautiful," and even think so ; but that is 
 all. In after life Edith knew the difference. 
 Then associations of the past, and hopes ' for 
 the future, caused her to sympathise with all
 
 70 EDITH VERNON ", OR, 
 
 around her. They were greeted with plea- 
 sure by all friends, and the professions and 
 compliments of Mr. John Trevor were among 
 the most earnest and the most refined. 
 
 There was but one drawback to the plea- 
 sures of this spring, that with it Arthur's 
 leave of absence expired ; he was to proceed 
 to the Peninsula, to take a part in that war- 
 fare which made desolate many a heart and 
 happy home. The contest was at its height, 
 and Arthur looked forward with a degree of 
 exultation to the idea of adding to his coun- 
 try's triumphs, and to do justice to the name 
 which his father had borne so honourably. 
 Still, it was a bitter thing to part with 
 those so fondly loved as his mother and 
 sister, each so dear an object of regard, and 
 yet so differently beloved. 
 
 " If we should never meet again, Edith, 
 you will recollect your brother ; you will 
 sometimes in memory retrace the past with
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 71 
 
 all its pleasures and pains, and if I have 
 given you advice, act on it for a brother's 
 sake." 
 
 "Dearest Arthur! you cannot think I 
 should forget anything connected with you. 
 You have made a part in all my pleasures, 
 and my best resolutions for the future seem 
 to be connected with you. While I say my 
 prayers daily, I must think of you ; but do 
 not talk of not returning." 
 
 "It might so happen, Edith; the thought 
 of future sorrow will soften and improve the 
 character, and may in some measure prepare 
 us for the hour of trial, come when it may." 
 
 Lady Yernon felt this separation from her 
 son most acutely. 
 
 "Arthur, I shall take leave of you to- 
 morrow morning ; I could not say l good 
 bye ' to-night." 
 
 Her son affectionately and fervently wish- 
 ed his mother "good night," and gave her
 
 72 EDITH VERXON ) OR, 
 
 the kiss for the evening. Lady Yernon saw 
 him no more. Edith, early in the morning, 
 went to her mother, and told her " that 
 Arthur was gone ; he had spared her the 
 pain of a last meeting." 
 
 Lady Vernon was mnch vexed. 
 
 " Edith, you meant this kindly, but you 
 have made me very wretched. I have a 
 superstitious feeling as regards the parting 
 with those I love. "Would I had seen your 
 brother." 
 
 This feeling of regret haunted Lady Yer- 
 non. She appeared to feel herself an injured 
 person ; and while Edith bore patiently with 
 her mother's complainings, she felt the weak- 
 ness of character that dwelt with such perse- 
 verance on a subject so trivial, and that clung 
 to grief, instead of rousing itself to exertion. 
 
 Yet it had its good effects on the character 
 of Miss Yernon. She bore her own sorrow 
 for her brother's departure in silence, and felt
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 73 
 
 a pride in so doing ; she had to support her 
 mother, and this gave her an idea of her 
 force of mind, and what is meant by moral 
 energy ; so when the greater hour of trial 
 came, and found her not only a woman of 
 strong mind, but of religious principle, 
 affliction was felt, but it was soothed by 
 such a habit of self-control. 
 
 Mr. John Trevor was the only person who 
 understood Edith, and felt with her, and, 
 partly by reasoning and kindness, enabled 
 her to bear her brother's absence, and Lady 
 Vernon's constant low spirits. 
 
 "Mr. Trevor," said Edith, "I am so 
 glad you liked Arthur, and valued his 
 character." 
 
 " I met your brother more than inclined 
 to like him. I knew his sister." 
 
 This was said with much warmth of man- 
 ner. It called the blood into Edith's pale 
 cheek, and was one of the speeches Trevor
 
 74 EDITH VERXOX J OR, 
 
 excelled in : it implied so much, or so little, 
 as the case might be. 
 
 If the manner were indifferent, they went 
 as words of course ; and Trevor well knew 
 that words might be brought in evidence 
 against you — the manner of using them 
 could not. 
 
 During this walk, one of the younger 
 Trevors was accompanying them, and as he 
 skipped on before them, almost wild with 
 thoughtless glee, Edith observed the fresh- 
 ness of such buoyancy of spirits, such light- 
 ness of heart. 
 
 " I suppose it would be almost impossible 
 to impress Charlie with a belief in the mi- 
 series of life ; and I think, too, it would be 
 cruel to attempt to do so. Do you recollect 
 the saying, ' Puisque le jour peut lui man- 
 quer laissons-le un peu jouir de PAurore' ?" 
 
 "No," said Trevor, "I never heard it 
 before ; but I think it very beautiful. You
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 75 
 
 have so many little apropos scraps and anec- 
 dotes, that I sometimes give yon credit for 
 composing them on the spnr of the mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Edith laughed at the idea of her imitating 
 the style of Corinne ; and by degrees the 
 conversation regained its once sprightly 
 tone. By the time she returned to Stone- 
 leigh, her countenance bore the sparkling 
 look of past times. 
 
 Lady Yernon noticed the change. M I 
 need not inquire, my love, with whom you 
 have been walking. A solitary ramble or a 
 tete-a-tete with me never gives such bright 
 eyes." 
 
 " I have been taking a walk with John 
 Trevor, mamma. We began our conversa- 
 tion in the spirit of the Ladye Christabel, 
 only reversing the order, 'Now in gloom, 
 now in glimmer.' " 
 
 " I like Mr. Trevor less than ever, Edith.
 
 76 EDITH VERXON J OR, 
 
 I am always inclined to say 'Beware!' when 
 I see yon with him." 
 
 "Do yon not think, mamma, that is a 
 prejudice?" said Edith, rather flippantly; 
 and Lady Vernon, whose spirits were too 
 depressed to allow her to dispute the point, 
 allowed the subject to drop.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 77 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Be it so — we part for ever- 
 Let the past as nothing be, 
 Had I only loved thee, never 
 Hadst thou been thus dear to me. 
 
 " Had I loved and thus been slighted, 
 That I better could have borne ; 
 Love is quelled when unrequited, 
 By the rising throbs of scorn. 
 
 " But 'tis useless to upbraid thee 
 "With thy past or present state ; 
 What thou wert — my fancy made thee, 
 "What thou art — I know too late." 
 
 Edith Yehnox received a note from Mr. 
 Trevor to inquire if she could ride with 
 him that morning to Ensley, a very beauti-
 
 78 EDITH VEKNON J OR, 
 
 ful village about seven miles from Stone- 
 leigh. 
 
 " Are you going to take a drive, mamma, 
 this morning?" 
 
 Lady Vernon did not intend strolling be- 
 yond the Lodge gates. " I must see Mid- 
 stone transplant those bulbs." 
 
 "Then, mamma, I shall ride to Ensley 
 with John Trevor." 
 
 " Very well, Edith, I shall again repeat 
 the offensive word ' Beware !' " 
 
 " I wish, mamma, you would not merely 
 hint or surmise these evils. If you know 
 anything against Mr. Trevor, tell me, and I 
 will not ride with him. Do you know any- 
 thing to his discredit ?" 
 
 " Edith, if I could bring any proof against 
 Mr. Trevor, you do not suppose me so sin- 
 fully weak as to have allowed him to be 
 your constant companion for months ; I only 
 have an undefined dislike to him. I would
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 79 
 
 ■warn you against a disappointment, which, 
 come when it may, will fall heavily on you. 
 I would, Edith, if it were possible, spare 
 you all sorrow, and it is to put you on 
 your guard that I say l Beware ! ' You 
 have been singularly circumstanced; from 
 our being such near neighbours to the 
 Downton family, acquaintanceship has al- 
 most imperceptibly ripened into friendship. 
 This I could not prevent without some 
 better reason than mere suspicious dislike, 
 Believe me, when suspicion becomes cer- 
 tainty, you have met Mr. Trevor for the 
 last time." 
 
 " Till then, mamma, I am at liberty to 
 act as formerly?" 
 
 " You are at liberty, Edith," was her mo- 
 ther's guarded reply. 
 
 The ride was therefore to be taken. At 
 two o'clock the horses were to be ready, and 
 at that hour Edith and her servant, accom-
 
 80 EDITH VEBROH J OR, 
 
 panied by Mr. Trevor and one of his younger 
 brothers, started for Ensley. 
 
 " I believe, Miss Yernon, it was this day 
 twelve months I had the pleasure of making 
 your acquaintance — I might say the privilege, 
 the happiness." 
 
 Edith bowed her head, but did not reply ; 
 she thought of her mother's words in the 
 morning. It is difficult to shake off a mo- 
 ther's forebodings. 
 
 Trevor continued, " Let us retrace the 
 past; something, surely, has been gained 
 during that time." 
 
 Edith could have told him something had 
 been lost, but she contented herself with 
 remarking, that " A year could not have 
 been passed negatively, something has been 
 done for good or ill during that time — it is 
 for the coming year to determine to which 
 class the results belong." 
 
 " I do not require an instant to determine
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 81 
 
 for me, Miss Vernon. I have, I am sure, 
 raised my standard of excellence by the ex- 
 perience of the past year." 
 
 Edith understood what he meant — namely, 
 a compliment to herself, but at that moment 
 she felt provoked by it, and changed the 
 subject by proposing a canter. After that 
 the conversation became more general, and 
 this restored her to her cheerfulness. 
 
 " Shall you walk this evening, Miss Ver- 
 non?" 
 
 "ISTo, decidedly not." 
 
 " You are quite certain of that ?" 
 
 " As certain as I can be of any occurrence ; 
 but why, Mr. Trevor, do you inquire so 
 particularly?" 
 
 " Perhaps I might have been allowed to 
 spend the evening in your society had you 
 intended to take a walk." 
 
 " I answer again, c Certainly not.' You 
 will think me very outrcc if I quote a pro- 
 
 VOL. i. G
 
 82 EDITH VERNON J OH, 
 
 verb, but it will explain my meaning : ' Too 
 much of a good thing is a bad thing' — excuse 
 the vulgarity of the illustration, Mr. Trevor ; 
 therefore, in compassion to yourself and me, 
 I again reply, l Decidedly not.' " 
 
 " I am glad that it is you who have im- 
 plied that you do not stand the test of a 
 near acquaintance. It is an idea that would 
 scarce have entered my head ; once sug- 
 gested, I can see the truth of it." 
 
 " Come," said Edith laughingly, "this is 
 charming. Confess, Mr. Trevor, that this 
 is more refreshing than the complimentary 
 strain in which we began the ride. Honey has 
 a mixture of acid which renders it agreeable 
 — we will vary the ride as well as our mood, 
 by returning home by way of Mary knoll." 
 
 " Nothing can be more out of the way 
 than Maryknoll ; it must increase the dis- 
 tance by two miles." 
 
 " Only two miles, Mr. Trevor ? I should
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 83 
 
 have supposed it must be two miles and one 
 furlong at the least. 
 
 "We return by Maryknoll, Smith," added 
 Miss Vernon to the groom, who accordingly 
 touched his hat, and rode a little in advance, 
 to open a gate that admitted them into a 
 complete Devonshire lane. 
 
 Edith noticed the expression of the ser- 
 vant's face when she gave him this order ; 
 he looked at Trevor with a degree of insolent 
 triumph, and Trevor had the appearance of 
 a man both perplexed and offended. 
 
 " I think Maryknoll one of the prettiest 
 places in this neighbourhood; the rounded 
 and richly wooded ascent, crowned at the 
 top by those few picturesque cottages. I 
 delight in the place." 
 
 " Do you, Miss Vernon?" said Trevor, 
 while a sneer crossed his lip for an instant, 
 and then changed to a bland smile as he 
 added, "Then I am glad we came."
 
 84 EDITH YEENON J OE, 
 
 When they arrived within a quarter of a 
 mile of Maryknoll, Trevor said his horse was 
 lame, there must be something the matter 
 with the shoe ; and he pretended to be very 
 angry with his servant for not having pro- 
 perly arranged matters before he left Down- 
 ton. Edith looked at the offending member, 
 and observed that she saw no signs of lame- 
 ness. 
 
 " Faro goes so uneasily, I must dismount 
 and ascertain the cause. Do you ride on, 
 Miss Yernon ; I will speedily overtake you." 
 
 Edith was about to suggest that Trevor 
 had better take the groom's horse, and he 
 would soon overtake them ; but Charlie Tre- 
 vor said with so much earnestness, "We had 
 best not wait for my brother, Miss Vernon," 
 that she put her horse to a brisk canter, and 
 rode off with " Good bye, Mr. Trevor, till 
 we meet again." Nor did he rejoin them till 
 Maryknoll had been passed some time.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 85 
 
 The remainder of the ride was passed with 
 much cheerfulness. Trevor was peculiarly 
 agreeable ; but as he assisted Edith to dis- 
 mount on reaching Stoneleigh, he again in- 
 quired " if they parted there, and should not 
 meet again that evening." 
 
 " Not unless you travel to Stoneleigh, Mr. 
 Trevor. I am well-nigh tired with this 
 morning's exercise." 
 
 "And I, Miss Vernon, have been given 
 to understand that we can meet too often." 
 
 Edith entered the house vexed that she 
 should have given Trevor the opportunity to 
 say that their intimacy was too great. 
 
 "Edith, you arc not well, you arc so 
 grave; what ails you, my child?" 
 
 " Nothing, mamma, nothing." 
 
 After dinner the butler brought a message 
 from old Dame "Wilkins, to say that she was 
 so ill, and that if Miss Vernon did not send 
 her something she thought she should die.
 
 86 EDITH VEENON ; OR, 
 
 " What shall I do, mamma, for this poor 
 old creature ? Desire the messenger to go 
 into the housekeeper's room, and I will 
 speak to her." 
 
 The servant left the room, and Lady Ver- 
 non su££ested that Mrs. Wilkins had some 
 
 Do 
 
 return of her colic, and that Edith could pre- 
 scribe for her. 
 
 The account given by the little girl seemed 
 very piteous and very contradictory. There 
 seemed no " ill that flesh is heir to " that 
 the old woman did not unite at once in her 
 suffering person. To every question of Miss 
 Vernon's the little girl answered in the affir- 
 mative. 
 
 "What shall I do, mamma? The child is 
 so polite she agrees to everything I say. I had 
 better take Weston with me, and pay the 
 invalid a visit in person. I shall then be 
 more able to see what really ails her." 
 
 Lady Yernon agreed to this proposition,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 87 
 
 and Edith, though fatigued with her ride, 
 prepared for her walk, iu company with her 
 servant. The old woman was very ill ; but 
 Edith gave her some remedy, and, promising 
 to return on the following day, began her 
 walk home. 
 
 "The evening, Weston, is so lovely, we 
 will return through the Downton meadows." 
 
 " If you please, ma'am," said the obedient 
 soubrette. 
 
 They entered the first field, which was 
 almost always unfrequented; but on this 
 occasion two persons were already walking 
 there, and at a little distance in advance. 
 Edith thought in the most dense crowd she 
 should have recognised Trevor, and surely 
 she could not be mistaken in the fields and 
 lanes round Downton Park. Another glance 
 convinced her it was Trevor ; but who could 
 his companion be? She appeared gaily 
 dressed, and there was something so sadly
 
 88 EDITH VERNON ) OR, 
 
 familiar in the maimer in which she walked 
 with her companion, that Edith shuddered. 
 On she went, till retreat was too late. One 
 minute more, and Trevor would have turned 
 round. She was about to meet them face to 
 face. 
 
 The look of shame with which he lifted 
 his hat, and then slunk on; the vulgar 
 laugh of the woman as she remarked his 
 abashed demeanour; the appearance of the 
 woman herself — so handsome and yet so 
 bold — in one moment's glance the truth 
 was revealed. 
 
 Edith walked on, and with an undefined 
 hope that she might have been mistaken in 
 her judgment, she inquired of Weston, with 
 a voice hardly articulate from agitation, 
 
 "Who was that person with Mr. Tre- 
 vor?" 
 
 " A very unrespectable young woman for 
 whom Mr. Trevor has taken one of the cot-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 89 
 
 tages at Maryknoll. I am so sorry, ma'am, 
 you should have been so annoyed." 
 
 Weston was so respectable and so much 
 attached to her young mistress, that her in- 
 dignation was extreme. 
 
 " I think we had better hasten on," was 
 all that Edith replied. A sudden light had 
 broken on her, and it seemed to have 
 withered her very being — to have scorched 
 up the springs of happiness. 
 
 Then she understood why Trevor had so 
 anxiously inquired of her arrangements for 
 the evening — why he had wished to avoid 
 Maryknoll. There seemed in his conduct 
 everything to shock her — an utter want of 
 probity, of morality. She was too unused 
 to the world to view these offences with 
 anything but horror. The more she re- 
 flected the more miserable did she feel, and 
 her step was so hurried, her appearance so 
 excited, that Weston was quite astonished.
 
 90 EDITH VERXCW J OR, 
 
 The servant felt the matter less heinous 
 than did the pure and innocent girl whose 
 steps she was following. 
 
 " I am afraid, Miss Vernon, if you walk 
 so very fast you will be tired." 
 
 "I am not in the least tired, Weston." 
 
 There is a grief of mind which deadens 
 all bodily suffering. 
 
 When they reached Stoneleigh, Edith 
 went directly to her own room, and calmly 
 considered what was her duty to her mother 
 and herself. 
 
 She did not then feel the wretchedness of 
 after days, when time had been given her to 
 reflect, not only on the loss of one so gifted, 
 so fascinating, as Trevor, but also on the 
 hollowness of professions, on the uncertainty 
 of human ties. At that moment there was 
 anger and wounded pride in the flushed 
 cheek and sparkling eye, in the determina- 
 tion to state the fact to Lady Vernon, and
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 91 
 
 then allow his name and his fault to pass 
 from her mind and her memory. 
 
 She entered the drawing-room. She made 
 the tea, and, turning to her mother, said, 
 
 "Ton were prophetic in your warnings 
 this morning, mamma. Mr. Trevor and I 
 have met for the last time, except as stran- 
 gers." 
 
 Lady Yernon looked up from her work, 
 and seeing her daughter go through with 
 the duties of the tea-table as calmly as she 
 was wont to do, she felt uncertain if she 
 were in earnest. 
 
 " Edith, what do you mean ?" 
 
 "That Mr. Trevor and I have met for 
 the last time, mamma. I have been hurt 
 and disgusted with what I have seen this 
 evening." 
 
 She then repeated what she had seen in 
 the Downton fields, and made no comment, 
 expressed neither anger nor astonishment ;
 
 92 EDITH VERNON ; OB, 
 
 Lut when she had concluded the account, 
 repeated her former assertion, 
 
 " Was I not right, mamma, in saying 
 that we had met for the last time ?" 
 
 Lady Vernon quite agreed with this re- 
 mark, and began a long list of surprises, 
 indignations, and perplexities — at one mo- 
 ment declaring she had always foreseen this 
 result, and then observing it was beyond 
 any degree of foresight; at one time so 
 glad, and then so sorry. Edith heard only 
 unconnected portions of her mother's dis- 
 course ; but when she was about to recom- 
 mence her tirade, with a fresh series of 
 doubts and fears, Edith said very quietly 
 and very firmly, 
 
 " Mamma, in return for the confidence I 
 have shown you, will you make me one 
 promise — never to allude to Mr. Trevor or his 
 misdoings ? I wish to unlearn the habit of 
 talking or thinking of him, and you must 
 set me the example."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 93 
 
 " I will promise you, my love, as far as I 
 am able. Occasionally, I think, I shall be 
 obliged by circumstances to speak of him. 
 And his whole conduct has been so unheard 
 of, so — " 
 
 While Lady Yernon was searching for an 
 adjective of sufficient enormity, Edith said, 
 
 " Mamma, you are forgetting your agree- 
 ment." 
 
 And she moved from the table with a 
 gesture of such impatience, that Lady Yer- 
 non contented herself with a word not half 
 severe enough, but the only one then forth- 
 coming; and Edith heard from her remote 
 corner of the room the half-whispered epi- 
 thet of " flagrant!" 
 
 " Mamma, you have not inquired after 
 old Mrs. Wilkins, and the result of my 
 prescriptions." "Without waiting for her 
 mother's answer, she related the illness and 
 its cure, talked incessantly, and at last de- 
 clared herself so much fatigued she must
 
 94 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 withdraw. "You will excuse me, mamma, 
 in consideration of my long ride and walk." 
 
 She kissed her mother, and left the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 Lady Vernon would have said something 
 consolatory to her daughter, but she ap- 
 peared so little annoyed or vexed at what 
 had passed between herself and John Trevor, 
 that the subject required not any especial 
 remark. Thus, when Edith left the room, 
 Lady Vernon only said, 
 
 "I hope, my child, a night's rest will 
 quite restore you." 
 
 "Thank you, mamma!" was her reply, 
 as she closed the door ; and a bitter smile 
 passed over her face. " Does mamma think 
 I am more senseless than marble, with as 
 little feeling, to part thus with the only being 
 I love, and to part, too, under all the misery 
 of knowing that I have been fooled — in- 
 sulted? Pride and sorrow have made a
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 95 
 
 strange contention in my head," thought 
 she, as she pressed her hand against her 
 throbbing brow. " I only hope I shall be 
 spared the repetition of mamma's remarks 
 on him. To hear his name constantly re- 
 peated, and in connection with that long 
 list of surprises and indignations, would 
 almost distract me ; the sound of his name 
 seems to jar on my nerves." 
 
 On placing the candle on the dressing- 
 table, she perceived there a letter addressed 
 to her, and recognised the handwriting of 
 Trevor. She rang her bell, and when 
 Weston answered the summons, inquired, 
 " "Who brought this letter here ?" 
 
 "Not I, Miss Yernon." 
 
 " It is, I imagine, from Mr. Trevor. Ee- 
 collect, Weston, if I knew one of the ser- 
 vants presuming to bring any communica- 
 tion from Downton, that instant I should 
 request mamma to part with that servant.
 
 96 EDITH VEENON ; OK, 
 
 Yes, Weston, even if it were yourself!" 
 added Miss Vernon, seeing the woman's 
 look of incredulity. " Give me my writing- 
 desk." She enclosed the unopened letter in 
 a sheet of paper, directed, and sealed it. 
 " Smith must take this early to-morrow 
 morning to Downton. Now, Weston, you 
 may undress me."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 97 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Nessun maggior dolore, 
 
 Che ricordarsi del tempo felice, 
 
 Kella miseria, e cio sa'l tuo dottore. 
 Ma se a conoscer la prima radice 
 Del nostro amor tu hai cotanto affetto, 
 Faro come colui, che piange, e dice." 
 
 Dante. 
 
 To recapitulate how Edith Vernon day by- 
 day mourned over the past, how dreary 
 seemed Stoneleigh and all connected with 
 it, how monotonous seemed those pursuits 
 she had followed up with the greatest ar- 
 dour, would be to pass over in detail the 
 next few months of Edith's life. But they 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 did pass ; and when October came, with its 
 soberness and decay, Edith felt it more en- 
 durable than the glitter and brightness of 
 summer. 
 
 Mrs. Trevor, the next time that she en- 
 countered the Vernons, said, 
 
 "John has left Downton, and is gone to 
 London, from whence he intends to travel 
 in England. I thought he would have gone 
 on the continent ; but I earnestly entreated 
 he would not do so in these unsettled times, 
 and I hope he will not." 
 
 There seemed not to be the slightest sus- 
 picion on Mrs. Trevor's part of the real 
 state of the case ; and this was a relief to 
 Edith. Of the fate of the letter, of the 
 reception it met with, of Trevor's thoughts 
 or feelings in regard to herself, she was in 
 ignorance, and remained so. 
 
 She did surmise occasionally if he recol- 
 lected her, if he regretted the past ; but
 
 CONTRASTS OP CHARACTER. 99 
 
 it was all uncertainty, and a blank. And 
 when she heard from Mrs. Trevor that her 
 son had resolved on going abroad, and that 
 she hoped he would come to no mischance, 
 Edith hoped so too, and felt that even then 
 his welfare was of interest to her. But she 
 endeavoured day by day to become more 
 indifferent to him. She recollected how he 
 had failed in principle and in honour, his 
 continued and heartless duplicity. Her re- 
 gard did not stand the test of a conviction of 
 his worthlessness ; and by the time winter 
 was half ended, Edith Yernon was compara- 
 tively cheerful. 
 
 And Trevor ! when he had seen the last 
 parting look that Edith gave him, he seemed 
 to recover all the self-possession he had been 
 so wanting in ; he felt that he was degraded. 
 His companion said to him with much flip- 
 pancy, 
 
 " Well ! so that is Miss Vernon ! I
 
 100 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 think she looked proud enough, at any 
 rate." 
 
 "Do not mention her name," said Trevor, 
 with much sternness, as the contrast be- 
 tween Edith and Jane Smith presented itself 
 to his mind. 
 
 " She would not have left all for you as I 
 have done — you have made me what I am," 
 retorted his companion. 
 
 "Yes," thought Trevor, "I have," and he 
 returned with his companion to Maryknoll. 
 
 Jane Smith had followed Trevor from 
 London. She had been till then a respect- 
 able woman. When he found Edith Vernon 
 was so fascinating, and, moreover, an only 
 daughter, he resolved that no old connec- 
 tion should interfere with his chance of 
 forming a new one, and his victim returned 
 to London with the means of gaining a live- 
 lihood with respectability. But when he 
 ascertained that Edith's brother would in-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 101 
 
 herit almost the whole property, his anxiety 
 for a wife lessened, and he forthwith re- 
 called Jane Smith from London, and placed 
 her at Maryknoll. He gained that ascend- 
 ancy over this woman, that she led a life of 
 perfect solitude ; indeed, the fear of his dis- 
 pleasure would have induced her to perform 
 a more severe penance, and, though the 
 servants and many of the neighbouring cot- 
 tagers surmised who she was, still the 
 whole affair was kept so secret, that neither 
 the family atDownton nor at Stoneleigh heard 
 even the faintest rumour of the arrange- 
 ments at Maryknoll. 
 
 Thus might matters have continued, had 
 not Trevor, deceived by Edith's assurances 
 that she should not leave home on that even- 
 ing, and having lost his accustomed pru- 
 dence, suffered himself to yield to the en- 
 treaties of his companion that he would 
 walk with her in the Downton meadows.
 
 102 EDITH VEENON J OE, 
 
 The result has been related, and, deprecating 
 his own folly, he returned home late at 
 night, uncertain what course to pursue. At 
 last he determined to write to Edith — lament- 
 ing the past, and yet appearing to have no 
 hope that his utmost contrition would induce 
 her to forget what had occurred. Trevor 
 was almost in hopes that Edith's partiality 
 for him would induce her to conceal his con- 
 duct from Lady Vernon. At all events, his 
 contrite apology could do no harm, and he 
 should wait with patience the result. When 
 his letter was returned to him unopened, 
 his rage and shame were extreme. The 
 dormant love he had felt for Edith — the 
 positive admiration for her — seemed increased 
 tenfold now that she was lost to him for 
 ever. Early on the following morning he 
 rode over to Maryknoll, told its inhabitant 
 his intention of leaving Downton almost 
 instantly, and inquired fiercely, " If. she
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 103 
 
 preferred remaining there or following 
 him ?" 
 
 " Why should I stay here when you are 
 gone ? " 
 
 " Well, then, prepare to leave this place 
 immediately," and, throwing her his purse, 
 he went away. 
 
 Calmly aud naturally he told his mother 
 his intention of going to London, and after- 
 wards, possibly, his intention of travelling 
 for some time. "But my plans," added he, 
 "I shall have arranged more fully in a few 
 days, and then I shall write to you or my 
 father. I must leave some adieus in the 
 neighbourhood, and proceed to town this 
 afternoon." 
 
 Mrs. Trevor imagined the adieus were 
 intended for the Yernons — little did she sup- 
 pose the morning was spent with Jane Smith 
 at Maryknoll. 
 
 His father seemed rather pleased when
 
 104 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 Mrs. Trevor informed him that John left 
 them that afternoon, and possibly for some 
 time ; and when her son confirmed this 
 announcement by wishing them " Good 
 bye," a cordial farewell from the family party 
 was all that was said on either side. 
 
 Of John Trevor and his proceedings no- 
 thing more was known to Edith for some 
 years, and when they did meet again, her 
 feelings and ideas had undergone a complete 
 change.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 1 05 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 " Oh, smile not, nor think it a worthless thing, 
 
 If it be with instruction fraught; 
 That which will closest and longest cling 
 
 Is alone worth a serious thought." 
 
 B. Barton. 
 
 'A cheerful letter from Arthur greeted the 
 solitude of Stoneleigh, and, as Lady Vernon 
 was by that time almost a confirmed invalid, 
 the communication from one so beloved, and 
 who had so much of interest to relate, was 
 welcome as a sunbeam in November. Edith 
 was sitting alone in the library listening to 
 the autumnal wind that at one instant sighed
 
 106 EDITH VEEXOX J OK, 
 
 and moaned, and then blew in fitful gusts 
 down the long avenue, and through the 
 almost leafless branches of the old elms. 
 
 "I love to hear the wind blow," thought 
 Edith, " I love to hear the wind blow a rag- 
 ing storm — I love to watch the branches 
 moaning to the blast, moving to and fro as 
 if in torture, writhing beneath the power 
 they feel, yet cannot sway — I love to see 
 the sere and withered leaf by the same wind 
 whirled here and there — it is a picture of 
 helplessness and desolation. The leaf ap- 
 peals to the parent branch, it answers by a 
 moan as the blast comes sweeping on, and 
 both are alike whirled to destruction. Fit 
 emblem art thou of man's passions, fierce 
 and uncontrolled — resistless, hurling to de- 
 struction branch and leaf — a moral whirlwind 
 all have felt and must feel. I love to hear 
 the wind sigh — it seems a still small voice, 
 fraught with a thousand histories, now heard 
 in a gentle sigh, now deepening into a tone
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 107 
 
 of lamentation — it is a voice of the past, 
 speaking of misery — it is prophetic of the 
 future, echoing the same tale — still, it is 
 very soothing. I would send a message of 
 happiness on a sunbeam ; but a token to one 
 I loved on that sad and complaining wind. 
 Fit emblem art thou of woman's life ; the 
 same voice suits thee and her, the same 
 tone of calm repining, of patient endurance, 
 mourning for what is past, scarce daring to 
 hope for the future." 
 
 As she pursued this train of thought, there 
 was a slight bustle in the hall, as though an 
 arrival had taken place. The library door 
 was thrown open, and Mr. Morton an- 
 nounced. 
 
 A degree of agitation was perceptible in 
 Edith's manner as she welcomed her visitor ; 
 but she had too much control and self-pos- 
 session not to speedily regain her usual calm- 
 ness ; and, after the first greetings, no one 
 would have detected anything in her man-
 
 108 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 ner but the quiet ease of a gentlewoman. 
 
 " Mamma is very unwell, Mr. Morton ; so 
 much so, that I fear you will not see her this 
 evening." 
 
 "I am very sorry that is the case, Miss 
 Vernon," replied Morton, with a considerable 
 degree of calmness in his manner of receiving 
 and bearing the disappointment. 
 
 A good deal of lively conversation followed, 
 which might have been detailed at the mar- 
 ket-cross, so little was it in the confidential 
 strain ; and when Edith wished him u Good 
 night," and desired him to order refreshment, 
 or any other matter he might require, but 
 that she must attend her mother for the re- 
 mainder of the evening, Morton felt that, 
 though in person she was lovelier than ever 
 and her manner more polished, still the open- 
 heartedness, the artless and frank manner 
 was gone. "Was the absence of it compen- 
 sated for by the rules of conventional high- 
 breediug ? Morton thought it was not.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 109 
 
 But, in a few days, when Edith was off her 
 guard, something of the old manner returned. 
 There was the playfulness and gaiety of 
 former days, contrasted with the subdued 
 gravity that she had lately assumed; and 
 then Morton confessed that the change from 
 light to shade made the character more fas- 
 cinating. This was shown on the evening of 
 the only day which Lady Vernon's ill-health 
 obliged her to pass a prisoner in her own room. 
 
 "Miss Vernon, will you sing to me this 
 evening ?" 
 
 "Yes, if you agree to the schoolboy's 
 compact of c turn about.' " 
 
 " Very well, I will ; but your concessions 
 would be much more valued if they were not 
 accompanied by those stipulations." 
 
 "Your words, Mr. Morton, savour of the 
 plenipotentiary." 
 
 She sat down to the piano, and, after hav- 
 ing begun various different airs, selected one 
 in manuscript. The writing was Trevor's : —
 
 110 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 " We met, as though we ne'er had met 
 In joy or grief before. 
 Oh ! there are hearts that soon forget, 
 And love that soon is o'er. 
 
 " We met ; but no kind hand pressed mine, 
 In thrilling hope or fear ; 
 Thus, e'en the flowers that sweetest twine, 
 Cold winter's hand may sear, 
 
 " "We met ; but not a passing thought 
 "Was in his mind of me. 
 Oh ! ye are all too dearly bought, 
 Ye joys of memory. 
 
 " For we met, as though we ne'er had met 
 In joy or grief before. 
 Oh ! there are hearts that soon forget, 
 And love that soon is o'er." 
 
 When she had finished her song, Morton 
 asked permission to look at the manuscript ; 
 and, when he had read it, said, " This gives 
 a painful view of the stability of human af- 
 fection.' 7 
 
 " But not the less true on that account, Mr. 
 Morton." 
 
 " Pardon me, Miss Vernon. It is not true,
 
 CONTEASTS OF CHARACTER. Ill 
 
 from my experience ; but the common sense 
 and wisdom we employ in the choice of almost 
 every other worldly good, we neglect in the 
 selection of those on whom we are, neverthe- 
 less, content to place our happiness — our 
 affections. "We do not seek for high princi- 
 ple, and uprightness of purpose and feeling, 
 which, if secured, would place us beyond the 
 reach of much sorrow and disappointment." 
 
 " You are becoming personal, Mr. Mor- 
 ton," said Edith, with a degree of haughti- 
 ness; and then added, "might one trust 
 you for a friend ?" 
 
 " I hardly dare speak to you on that sub- 
 ject, Miss Yernon. I hardly care to confess 
 to you the deep interest I feel in your hap- 
 piness and welfare." 
 
 Edith dared not look at him; she durst 
 not trust herself to make any reply. A few 
 moments passed in silence. She then crossed 
 the room for a candle, and having vainly
 
 112 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 endeavoured to light it, threw the bundle 
 of allumettes into the fire, with a gesture 
 of extreme impatience, and, turning to Mor- 
 ton, said, half laughingly, 
 
 " May a woman be furious ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, Miss Vernon," replied 
 Morton gravely, as he lighted her bougie for 
 her, and she left the room. 
 
 Morton was annoyed that he should have 
 ventured to express his feelings for her, as 
 she received them with such indifference. 
 Trevor would have observed the agitation of 
 manner that rendered her unable to light 
 her candle ; but Morton was more literal in 
 his views of character, and felt provoked 
 with himself and disappointed with her 
 levity. 
 
 But when she returned into the room 
 after the lapse of some time, and Morton 
 perceived the traces of recent tears, he 
 blamed himself for the hasty judgment he
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 113 
 
 had formed of her, and felt that if her affec- 
 tions and feelings were not engaged for hiin, 
 still she possessed them, and that abun- 
 dantly. On Sunday Lady Yernon was too 
 unwell to venture to church, and while sit- 
 ting alone with her, he mentioned that on 
 the following Tuesday he must leave Stone- 
 leigh. 
 
 " Cannot you remain longer with us, Mr. 
 Morton?" said Lady Vernon. "I enjoy 
 your society so much, and Edith is less dull. 
 I regret her isolated state. She has no con- 
 nection in the world except her brother, and 
 his profession gives him so short a time to 
 spend at home. My health is so uncertain 
 that it renders Stoneleigh a gloomy place 
 for my child. Deeply do I regret I did not 
 encourage her in forming an intimacy with 
 some young friend of her own age and sex, 
 now it is too late. I wish you would re- 
 main with us a little longer, if it be agree- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 able to you, Mr. Morton. 1 think I have 
 made out a strong case for your sym- 
 pathy." 
 
 Morton thanked Lady Vernon, but de- 
 clined the invitation. He felt half inclined 
 at that moment to disclose to her his feel- 
 ings towards her daughter; but he recol- 
 lected that a confession of that kind, when 
 coupled with the conviction of its hopeless- 
 ness from his present circumstances, would 
 be useless as well as foolish. He contented 
 himself, therefore, with thanking Lady Ver- 
 non for her kindness, and hoped that she 
 would allow him to consider himself as still 
 owing Stoneleigh a visit. 
 
 "Willingly, Mr. Morton. You or I must 
 be strangely changed when you become no 
 longer welcome here." 
 
 Edith's entrance put a stop to the conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " It is already half -past ten o'clock. We
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHAEACTEE. 115 
 
 must set out for church. Good-bye, dear 
 mamma, till our return." 
 
 She kissed Lady Vernon, and left the 
 room with Morton. 
 
 They walked for some time in silence ; at 
 last Edith alluded to the state of her mo- 
 ther's health, and the anxiety with which 
 she looked forward to the future. 
 
 " You are too sensible, Mr. Morton, to be 
 rendered miserable by forebodings; but I 
 cannot but give way to the presentiment I 
 have that the next twelvemonth will leave 
 me without a relative. I always tremble 
 when I receive a letter with a foreign post- 
 mark, dreading some ill tidings from Arthur. 
 And the effect that would have on my mo- 
 ther's health one dare not think of." 
 
 " I trust, Miss Yernon, that not one of 
 your sad forebodings will be realised, but 
 that the following year will find you richer 
 in friends than now, and with more happi-
 
 116 EDITH YERXON ; OR, 
 
 ness in your reach. Should my best wishes 
 for you be fruitless, you will consider me as 
 a brother ; you may claim from me all that 
 such a relationship would give." 
 
 " Thank you. I shall remember this pro- 
 mise in my hour of need." 
 
 They entered the small village church. 
 Edith felt soothed by the tranquillity and 
 peace of the house of prayer. All seemed 
 to tell of a holy calm. Morton did more 
 than feel. He asked for assistance for the 
 present and support for the future for Edith 
 and for himself in all times of tribulation or 
 prosperity. He knew that both seasons re- 
 quire strength from above. And as he left 
 the church with Miss Vernon, and observed 
 the glad and cheerful manner with which she 
 greeted the poor congregation, he fervently 
 trusted that she had asked for and obtained 
 a portion of that peace which this world 
 does not give.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 117 
 
 Mr. Morton was the only child of a 
 yonnger branch of a noble family. His 
 grandfather was the youngest son of the Earl 
 of Melford; his father, again, a younger son, 
 and Henry Morton himself, the son, and heir 
 of nothing. His father had been private 
 secretary to the British ambassador at the 
 French court, and had subsequently held a 
 lucrative office under government. Mr. 
 Morton's friends were all powerful in Down- 
 ing Street, and the income he received from 
 his appointment considerable. His wife, 
 Lady Mary Morton, a daughter of the Mar- 
 quis of Beltoun, contrived to find it only just 
 sufficient for the expenses of each year (and 
 sometimes she complained it was altogether 
 too little), so that her only son was depen- 
 dent on the patronage of his titled connec- 
 tions. And as other nephews, as well as the 
 more pressing claims of sons and grandsons, 
 left every step to preferment occupied, Henry
 
 118 EDITH VERXOX J OR, 
 
 felt his chance as bad as possible, and he 
 justly considered that on his own exertions 
 alone was he to depend. After leaving Ox- 
 ford, his father intended his becoming attache 
 to some foreign embassy ; but he had re- 
 solved on taking holy orders, and mentioned 
 his intention to his loving parent. 
 
 " It will never do, Henry," was the reply. 
 Ci I have not a single living in my gift. 
 Lord Beltoun has sons and grandsons all 
 intended for the Church ; your prospects are 
 as bad as possible. If your uncle were a 
 bishop, I should say c take orders ; ' but, as 
 the case stands, impossible ! " 
 
 "I can trust to my own exertions," said 
 Henry. " I should infinitely prefer that to 
 the misery of place-hunting; it is a scene 
 of servility and disappointment." 
 
 " As you please then. I only warn you 
 that my power to serve you is nothing. 
 Your allowance will be £300 a-year, and
 
 COXTEASTS OF CHAEACTEE. 119 
 
 after my death you will inherit scarce enough 
 to bury me." 
 
 This was a piece of information somewhat 
 startling, but Henry did not quite believe 
 it. He was entered at Christchurch, kept 
 within his allowance, engaged a tutor, and 
 did justice to his instructions. It was 
 through his means he received an introduc- 
 tion to Mr. Bennett, who again introduced 
 him at Stoneleigh, and was the promoter 
 of the intimacy he formed with the Yernons. 
 
 From time to time he paid a visit to 
 Tremylyan Castle, the Marquis of Bel- 
 toun's seat, in Cornwall. These visits to 
 his uncle accounted for his so frequently 
 passing through Devonshire; and he was 
 very glad of an excuse for visiting the neigh- 
 bourhood of Stoneleigh; and the Yernons 
 were as much delighted that their house 
 should be directly en route to his noble rela- 
 tive's dwelling in Cornwall.
 
 120 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 So far all was well. But Henry Morton 
 had discovered that this state of things was 
 too bright to last. From his first visit to 
 Stoneleigh he had loved Edith ; but he knew 
 that her whole affections were centred on 
 Trevor. He therefore argued, " If I choose 
 to make myself miserable by getting more 
 and more attached to Edith Yernon, well 
 and good; I endanger no one's happiness 
 but my own." 
 
 On this principle he returned to Stone- 
 leigh each succeeding visit. But now matters 
 were changed. Trevor was gone, Edith not 
 only desolate, but each succeeding day over- 
 coming her partiality for her former friend. 
 Then it was that Morton resolved to return 
 no more to Stoneleigh ; that sentence of his 
 father constantly recurring to his mind — 
 u After my death, nothing." 
 
 " Before Edith can have become attached 
 to me I will bid her ' farewell.' My own
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 121 
 
 misery is my own choice, and I shall pay 
 the full penalty ; but I would not willingly 
 cause her a moment's grief or disappoint- 
 ment ; therefore I must go ; the future may 
 enable me to ask for a return of my love. 
 While I am a poor and unprovided man it is 
 but justice to her that we should part." 
 
 And he left Stoneleigh accordingly ; but 
 he had remained too long — long enough to 
 cause Edith fresh sorrow. No one suspected 
 the extent of Miss Vernon's regard, and 
 Morton's chief consolation was, " she will 
 not regret." 
 
 Lady Vernon knew Morton to be highly- 
 principled ; that he was an only child, and 
 well connected ; that his parents were con- 
 sidered recherche, even by the exclusives, and 
 she doubted not but that he was rich; so 
 she gave him a cordial invitation to Stone- 
 leigh, and thought if he and Edith did be- 
 come attached to one another, why it was
 
 122 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 « 
 
 very likely, and would be very agreeable to 
 all parties. Thus she resolved to let mat- 
 ters take their course ; and she felt rather 
 pleased when she saw Morton's look of 
 misery as he took leave, and Edith's sorrow 
 after he was gone. 
 
 One of Morton's most intimate college 
 friends was the Earl of Eestowel, the eldest 
 son of the Duke of Baltimore. One day he 
 said to his friend, 
 
 " Morton, I received this morning a letter 
 from my father, in which he requests me to 
 provide a tutor for my youngest brother. 
 He is to possess all sorts of virtues and 
 talents, and above all to be indulgent and 
 gentle. Are you acquainted with any indi- 
 vidual who unites all these perfections ?" 
 
 Morton replied that he did not, but that 
 he would recollect his friend's wants and 
 wishes. 
 
 " My brother is a sad scape-grace, I ought
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 123 
 
 in fairness to tell you that — indulged be- 
 yond description by my father, who has 
 never allowed him to go to school, or sub- 
 jected him to any home discipline; his tutor 
 must have considerable judgment, and then 
 I think he may manage him, for he is ami- 
 able." 
 
 The next time the friends met, the sub- 
 ject was resumed, " for," said Lord Eestowel, 
 "I received this morning another letter 
 from my father, and after asking the result 
 of my inquiries, he tells me a piece of news, 
 namely, the illness of the present incumbent 
 of Deerhurst. The living is in my father's 
 gift ; I wish, Morton, you would oblige me 
 by accepting the next presentation." 
 
 " Thank you, my dear Eestowel," replied 
 Morton; "but I should scarcely feel jus- 
 tified in accepting so great an obligation." 
 
 " The obligation you confer would be the 
 greatest. I know your value, and the bless-
 
 124 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 ing you would prove to the poor amongst 
 whom you dwell." 
 
 Morton said he should with less scruple 
 accept the living of Deerhurst, if he might 
 become the tutor to Lord Henry Tynemore. 
 " By regulating his mind, and improving 
 his ideas, I should in some sort cancel the 
 obligation I am under to your father. Will 
 you propose this plan to the Duke of Balti- 
 more, and express my sincere acknowledg- 
 ments of his and your recollection of me ?" 
 
 They shook hands and parted. 
 
 Lord Eestowel mentioned Morton's wishes 
 to his father, who would have adopted them 
 most willingly ; but Lord Henry, when he 
 found the tutor was so near at hand, prayed 
 that he might go to Eton instead. As usual 
 he had his own way, and Lord Eestowel 
 persuaded Morton to accept the living at the 
 death of the present incumbent. The living 
 was worth £900 a-year, and this Morton
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 125 
 
 felt was a step gained towards the possession 
 of Edith Vernon. 
 
 Meanwhile the invalid rector rallied ; and 
 the promise was all that Morton enjoyed 
 for the present. But he told his father of 
 his good fortune ; and Lady Maiy was loud 
 in her congratulations, and more extrava- 
 gant than ever.
 
 126 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 " They grew in beauty side by side, 
 They filled one home with glee ; 
 Their graves are scattered far and wide, 
 
 By mount, and stream, and sea. 
 The same fond mother bent at night 
 
 O'er each fair sleeping brow ; 
 She had each folded flower in sight — 
 Where are the dreamers now ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hemans. 
 
 Miss Vernon was called on in the spring 
 to prepare her mother for the intelligence of 
 her brother's death. He received a wonnd 
 in action, which terminated fatally a few 
 honrs after it was given. A brief and final 
 farewell to those so dear to him at Stone-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 127 
 
 leigh, was conveyed through the medium of 
 the brother officer who wrote the intelli- 
 gence of his decease. And as Edith perused 
 the sheet of paper on which were detailed 
 the events of such deep import to her, it 
 seemed as though the end of such a life 
 could scarce be crowded into so small a 
 space — as if the last looks and words of 
 one so much beloved must occupy a more 
 lengthened memorial than the few and hur- 
 ried lines which announced them. They 
 were the last and only records of a brother ; 
 and she never again heard his actions spoken 
 of. It was all past, like a brief vision, and 
 memory had to furnish forth the incidents 
 on which we love to dwell when they relate 
 to the lost and lamented. 
 
 Lady Vernon's grief was beyond expres- 
 sion — it was almost frantic ; weeks had 
 passed since the announcement of her loss, 
 and yet she refused consolation, and her
 
 128 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 daughter's efforts to restore calmness or 
 resignation were alike ineffectual. "My 
 dearest Arthur ! " — such was her constant 
 ejaculation ; and it was in vain that Edith 
 urged the duties of submission and patience 
 — her entreaties passed unheeded. 
 
 " Consider, mamma ! by the indulgence 
 of such grief you will destroy your health. 
 You would not wish me to be left utterly 
 desolate. I, too, dearly loved Arthur; but 
 I endeavour to feel that this our affliction is 
 a gain to him, and should be made a lesson 
 of profit to us. Mamma, forgive me for 
 saying it is sinful so to repine." 
 
 " But we shall never meet again. He was 
 so good; I had hoped his affection would 
 have soothed my old age." 
 
 " You will meet again, mamma. Do you 
 think I could bear my brother's loss if I were 
 not sure his life was a preparation for his 
 death ? Oh, no ! it is the thought that we
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 129 
 
 may trust to meet again, which enables me 
 to look forward with hope. My dearest 
 mother, do not so wrong yourself I" 
 
 Thus did Edith reason ; and, it appeared, 
 to no purpose. She hoped that Morton would 
 not forget his promise of taking a brother's 
 
 Nor was she disappointed. A letter came 
 from him addressed to Lady Yernon. It 
 spoke of his regard for Lady Yernon and her 
 daughter, which had induced him to intrude 
 on their sorrow. It spoke of the dead, and 
 of those who mourned him, with so much 
 sympathy and feeling, and yet with the views 
 and hopes of a Christian, that Edith prayed it 
 might have more influence than she had had 
 in abating her mother's grief and repinings. 
 
 " Answer this letter, Edith ; and express 
 my thanks to Mr. Morton for his recollection 
 of our loss. Say that I am unable to reply 
 to him myself." 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 These were all the remarks Lady Vernon 
 made on the subject, and time or exhaustion 
 lessened her repinings. 
 
 Edith answered Mr. Morton's letter. She 
 thanked him in her own and her mother's 
 name for the sympathy he had shown them. 
 She reminded him of the promise he had 
 made her of taking a brother's part towards 
 her when her own should be no more. She 
 alluded to Lady Vernon's ill health, and the 
 grief she had felt on the occasion ; and earn- 
 estly wished that any arguments of hers 
 would avail to enforce submission to this dis- 
 pensation ; and concluded with her own and 
 her mother's best wishes for Mr. Morton. She 
 folded the letter, and, placing it on Lady 
 Vernon's table, requested her to read it. 
 
 " No, Edith. I could not bear to retrace 
 the cause of my sufferings. I am sure you 
 have written everything you should do ; be- 
 sides, I am not equal to much exertion, and
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 131 
 
 I must answer this letter from Admiral Thorn- 
 ton. He wishes to pay us a visit ; but I must 
 decline it for the present." 
 
 Edith looked vexed, and her mother re- 
 marked it. 
 
 " Do you think Admiral Thornton would 
 enliven us, Edith ?" 
 
 " No, mamma. I do not think any one 
 could enliven us, — it must be more than any 
 human assistance to do that, — nor do I wish 
 to be enlivened ; but I feel that the society 
 of an old friend might be a motive for exer- 
 tion on your part, and might tend to rouse 
 you from despondency." 
 
 Lady Vernon declared that then she could 
 not consent to receive a visit from any one. 
 " And now, Edith, I must write my letter." 
 
 When Morton received Edith's letter, he 
 felt all that a brother could do — and much 
 more. He wished he might reply to it, and 
 assure her of all his love and tenderness ; but
 
 132 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 he contented himself with hoping for her 
 brighter and happier days, and hoarded up 
 her letter "with a miser's care. 
 
 Admiral Thornton, too, had written to Lady 
 Vernon on business, for Edith was now an 
 only child. Her guardian had settled on her 
 four thousand a-year after his death. She 
 was also heiress to all her mother's property ; 
 and the Admiral felt that his letter to Lady 
 Vernon on this occasion was a strange mix- 
 ture of condolence and congratulation. 
 
 "My poor little Edith ! I feel for her as well 
 as for yourself, my dear madam ; and I pray 
 you may both be supported to bear this heavy 
 trial. If there be any consolation in knowing 
 that your regrets for your loss are shared by 
 all those who knew your son, you have that 
 consolation. Young as he was, I respected 
 as well as loved him, and mourn his loss 
 more than that of any other human being, 
 my little Edith always excepted."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 133 
 
 Thus commenced this letter ; and then fol- 
 lowed the arrangement of the property, and 
 his congratulations to Edith on her being ulti- 
 mately the possessor of seven thousand a-year. 
 
 Lady Vernon concealed from her daughter 
 this part of Admiral Thornton's communica- 
 tion. She had always avoided the subject ; 
 and now she felt an especial dislike to Edith's 
 becoming aware of the change in her fortunes 
 her brother's death had occasioned. " I do 
 not suppose the information would cause her 
 to feel one iota less sorrow ; but I will not 
 try her. ISTow she shall only know her loss. 
 At my death she may need some additional 
 consolation ; it will then be time enough." 
 
 Lady Vernon, in this instance, did her 
 daughter much injustice. The collected 
 wealth of the whole race of Vernons would 
 not have been valued had it been purchased 
 by one hour's suffering to one so fondly loved 
 as her brother ; much more, then, when it was
 
 134 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 gained by his death. Besides, Edith was 
 a very bad judge of comparative poverty or 
 riches. From her earliest years she had lived 
 in retirement. Her mother had supplied her 
 with every luxury and comfort. She had 
 scarcely to form a wish, or but to form it and 
 have it gratified. She had seen all this done 
 without the apparent aid of money ; conse- 
 quently, her ideas of wealth were so indefinite 
 that she could not have been able to judge if 
 seven thousand a-year would have enabled 
 her to live at Stoneleigh. Had you told her 
 that her income would more than double her 
 mother's, she would have thought that im- 
 mense, because that had provided her with 
 everything she had either desired or imagined. 
 "A little intercourse with the world," 
 such was Lady Vernon's reflection, " will 
 soon teach her that lesson, and it will be 
 time enough to learn it when a mother's 
 care is ended."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 135 
 
 And it seemed as though that period were 
 well-nigh arrived. Edith felt that this was her 
 mother's last illness, and she resolved, that 
 by affectionate care she would soothe the last 
 days of the invalid, and leave no stinging 
 regrets on her own mind, when it should be 
 too late to do more than wish she had done 
 better. Night and day was she by the 
 invalid's side, anticipating her wants, listen- 
 ing to her complaints, and endeavouring to 
 soothe them. 
 
 " My own, best child," said Lady Vernon 
 to her one day, " when you shall be suffer- 
 ing and in sorrow, may your love and care 
 of your mother be returned to you. You 
 look sadly pale ; Weston shall take your 
 place by me, and you must have some air 
 and exercise." 
 
 Edith felt recompensed for all her watch- 
 ings by her mother's look of praise, and she 
 consented to leave her charge for two hours.
 
 136 EDITH VERNON ) OE, 
 
 She ordered the carriage : the fresh air 
 traced her frame, and the sights and sounds 
 of nature spoke peace to her mind, and she 
 returned home better enabled to go on with 
 her duty. 
 
 Edith was seated in her mother's room 
 reading. From time to time as the heavy 
 breathings of Lady Vernon reached her ear, 
 she looked up from her book, but then all 
 again was still. "When she had finished her 
 occupation, she went to the bedside of the 
 invalid to inquire if she could arrange her 
 pillow, read to her, or do anything for her, 
 and then she perceived she was — dead. It 
 was the first time that death had ever been 
 presented to her view; but it did not re- 
 quire experience to feel that the destroyer 
 had done his work, and that the first curse 
 pronounced on man had also fallen on her 
 parent. No ! Edith could not doubt but 
 that the glassy eye, the falling mouth, the
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 137 
 
 inexpressible hue of the face, was death. 
 She was right — the spirit had passed from 
 the senseless clay, and Edith Vernon was an 
 orphan. She did not weep, she scarcely 
 showed surprise or emotion, but remained 
 with her eyes bent on the form before her. 
 At last "Weston entered the room, and per- 
 ceived at once the state of her young mis- 
 tress, and the event which had occasioned 
 it. No word was spoken. Edith gave one 
 more hasty glance at the dead, and then left 
 the apartment. She felt alone, and the 
 dreariness, the desolation, were the chilling 
 sensations that seemed to wrap her heart, as 
 it were, in an icy shroud. Lady Vernon 
 appeared not much more inanimate than her 
 child. 
 
 It was late in the evening before she 
 moved from the sofa on which she had 
 thrown herself, and then she wrote a few 
 hurried lines to her guardian, telling him
 
 138 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 her mother was no more, and that she relied 
 on the affection he had always shown her, 
 not to leave her unaided in the hour of be- 
 reavement. 
 
 It was on the following day that she 
 entered once more the chamber of death. A 
 slight convulsion passed across her face, as 
 with an effort she turned towards the couch 
 on which her mother lay. At last she ap- 
 proached more nearly, and took within her 
 own the small cold hand that returned not 
 the pressure of her child's ; she kissed it 
 reverently, and then, as she relinquished 
 her hold, it fell down heavily on the bed. 
 Edith burst into tears, and the words, " It 
 must be death," seemed to pass from her 
 lips, and with them the conviction that that 
 alone could render a mother insensible to 
 the caresses and tenderness of her daughter. 
 
 One long lock of hair she cut from the 
 braid that was passed across the pale brow
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 139 
 
 of Lady Vernon, and then, giving another 
 lingering look of affection, and one more 
 kiss to the marble hand, she saw her parent 
 for the last time. " Let my recollections of 
 my mother be sorrowful, but untinged with 
 horror — my remembrance of the dead should 
 be of peace." 
 
 At last the dreadful solitude was broken 
 by the arrival of Admiral Thornton. He 
 clasped the sorrowing girl to his heart, and, 
 as she sobbed in agony, he bade her be com- 
 forted. 
 
 "Lady Charlotte," said he, "will soon 
 arrive, my dear Edith, and she would even 
 now have been here, had I not travelled 
 more quickly and set out sooner than she 
 could do." 
 
 Edith thought that the old repulsive man- 
 ner of Lady Charlotte would only chill the 
 more, her lonely heart. 
 
 Miss Vernon said one morning to Admiral
 
 140 edith yeenon; oe, 
 
 Thornton, "Where am I to go, my dear sir? 
 What is to become of me ?" 
 
 " Where would you wish to go, my love ? 
 Would you prefer staying at Stoneleigh, or 
 for the present living with Lady Charlotte 
 and myself?" 
 
 " You know the best, my dear sir, what I 
 can do." 
 
 " How do you mean, Edith ? 'Can do!' 
 You can do anything you please, and I will 
 do whatever you prefer." 
 
 " I did not doubt your kindness," said 
 Miss Yernon, with a slight hesitation of 
 manner, "but I did not know if my cir- 
 cumstances would allow of my having a 
 choice." 
 
 " A choice !" observed the Admiral, with 
 unfeigned astonishment. " Why, my dear 
 child, you are now the possessor of three 
 thousand a-year, and at my death you will 
 have seven thousand."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 141 
 
 It was all new and strange to Edith, and 
 she only observed, in reply, "I should wish, 
 my dear sir, to be guided by you, and to 
 follow your advice." 
 
 She felt for the first time that worldly 
 prosperity had been purchased by her pre- 
 sent isolated state. The exchange was one, 
 that as she thought of it her tears started 
 afresh. 
 
 Admiral Thornton suggested that the lease 
 of Stoneleigh had better be disposed of as 
 soon as it was agreeable to Edith to leave 
 the home of her childhood. Till that time 
 her guardian would remain there with her. 
 
 " Then, possibly, you will make my house 
 your home, and live with Lady Charlotte 
 and myself until you shall marry or grow 
 tired of the society of an old man and Iris 
 wife." 
 
 "I do not think I can ever do that," 
 replied Miss "Vernon. And thanking her
 
 142 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 guardian for his kindness to her, she left the 
 room to join Lady Charlotte. 
 
 The time passed, and at last the lease was 
 disposed of, and three weeks were all that re- 
 mained to be spent at Stoneleigh. Edith deter- 
 mined in the beginning of her sorrow to write 
 to Mr. Morton of her mother's death. She 
 did not feel quite certain if it were right to 
 do so; and yet, when she remembered his 
 kindness, and the interest he had always 
 expressed for her, she determined to de- 
 spatch the letter. Its contents briefly al- 
 luded to the events of the past few weeks, 
 and she half apologised for her writing by 
 alluding to the sympathy Mr. Morton had 
 expressed on a former sad occasion. When 
 he received Edith's letter, he felt a sensation 
 of extreme pleasure at the thought that in all 
 her trouble she had remembered him, and his 
 first impulse was to write an immediate and 
 affectionate answer; but after a moment's
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 143 
 
 reflection he determined to adhere in all 
 things to his original resolve, and say no- 
 thing to Edith of his love for her till his 
 prospects were surer and brighter. Besides, 
 he thought, her knowledge of the world was 
 so limited she could scarcely have formed an 
 estimate of others, or of her own merits or 
 tastes. In a little time she will be more 
 known — so reasoned Morton — and then a 
 more brilliant lot will be hers than as my 
 wife. At all events I can but wait, and 
 watch, though not control, the course of 
 events. Now I must not speak or think of 
 her as anything dearer than a valued friend. 
 His intention was confirmed that same 
 evening. He was dining with Lord Endle- 
 sham. One of Nelson's victories was brought 
 into discussion, and some difference of opi- 
 nion existed on the point under debate. 
 Lord Endlesham regretted that his technical 
 knowledge was not sufficient to enable him
 
 144 EDITH VERNON; OR, 
 
 to decide the point in question. "But," 
 added he, " if Admiral Thornton had been 
 able to dine with me to-day, as I had hoped 
 he would have done, he would have, been a 
 sufficient reference." 
 
 " Thornton was suddenly called from 
 London by the death of an old friend," said 
 another; " he was appointed guardian to 
 the children. You were acquainted with 
 Lady Yernon, I think?" said the speaker, 
 addressing Lady Endlesham. " Miss Yer- 
 non will have a large fortune. I understood 
 as much as eight thousand a year." 
 
 A story never loses by the telling. 
 
 No more was said on the subject except a 
 few commonplace remarks on Edith and her 
 expectations ; and other individuals and 
 more important events were commented on. 
 
 But the conversation had been carefully 
 remarked by Morton; and it was at first 
 with no feeling of pleasure that he heard of
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 145 
 
 so great a change in the fortunes of one 
 dearest to him on earth ; but he quickly re- 
 proved himself for any such selfish emotion. 
 He resolved to rejoice in her welfare, though 
 it should seem to place a gulf between his 
 ever realizing his bright hopes for the future. 
 He dared scarcely hope that the possessor of 
 eight thousand a-year could have more than 
 his prayers and best wishes. 
 
 It was under this impression that he an- 
 swered Miss Vernon's letter; and actuated 
 by the fear of saying too much, and allowing 
 her to judge of his feelings towards her, his 
 letter was constrained and somewhat formal, 
 and though kind, yet cold. He did not trust 
 himself to re-read it, but, folding and direct- 
 ing it, with a mournful heart he gave it in 
 charge to his servant. 
 
 The letter arrived at Stoneleigh; and 
 Edith read it twice through, and folding her 
 arms with an expression of dull certainty, 
 
 VOL. i. L
 
 146 EDITH VEENOX ; OR, 
 
 she looked indeed sorrowful. She wandered 
 forth into the grounds, unmindful of every- 
 thing but this her last disappointment. 
 
 • ■ Prosperity has left me desolate," thought 
 she, folding her mantle more closely round 
 her, as if she feared the vital spark would 
 also forsake her, and leave her cold and chill 
 as marble, or her own thoughts. 
 " Prosperity has left me desolate." 
 She looked around her. It was the close 
 of an evening at the end of September. All 
 nature seemed brilliant, and the decay of the 
 coming autumn appeared concealed by the 
 flush of beauty that the sky and the flowers 
 then wore. But the scene appeared more 
 gloomy to Edith than the withered leaves of 
 the later season. It was not in unison with 
 her deep mourning dress and pale cheek. 
 She turned away from the gay scene with a 
 sense of disgust, and wandered on to a part 
 of the grounds where the trees grew more
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 147 
 
 thickly, and formed a small plantation. A 
 gronp of beeches attracted her attention — 
 they still wore the fresh green of summer, 
 or where the foliage had changed it was 
 only to assume a golden tint instead of the 
 more sober shade of green. A light breeze 
 had sprung up, and one small, withered leaf 
 was detached from the bough, and fell at 
 Edith's feet. She stooped and picked it up, 
 and kissed it with a fervour that in after 
 days she would have wondered at. Then it 
 seemed like herself, early blighted, and the 
 only thing in nature that sympathised with 
 her. She carried it home with her, and it 
 was treasured, even when the orange blos- 
 som was wreathed on her brow. 
 
 When she returned to the drawing-room, 
 Admiral Thornton remarked her sad expres- 
 sion. 
 
 "You have not one smile even for me, 
 Edith,"
 
 148 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 "Not a smile, perhaps, but many a grate- 
 ful recollection. You would not, you could 
 not, wish, me to be cheerful; eyen the 
 thought of leaving Stoneleigh would make 
 me sad." 
 
 " And Miss Vernon has just lost her mo- 
 ther," suggested Lady Charlotte, as though 
 the idea were a new one, and as if the past 
 accounted for all sad looks. 
 
 Edith made no reply ; and after a pause, 
 she requested Lady Charlotte would excuse 
 her leaving them that evening, but a very 
 severe headache obliged her to go to bed. 
 Nor did she rise from it for many days. A 
 low fever had been induced by sorrow and 
 disappointment, and during some time her 
 life was pronounced to be in danger. At 
 last her youth and good constitution tri- 
 umphed, and she was able to leave her 
 room. 
 
 During her illness she had thought much,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 149 
 
 perhaps not justly, but her conclusions were 
 those of a mind warped by prejudice. She 
 almost doubted the existence of sincerity and 
 high principle, and she resolved henceforth 
 to disbelieve. 
 
 " I cannot then know disappointment, and 
 if I should perchance meet with a human 
 being who professes and practises, the plea- 
 sure will be the greater." 
 
 Sometimes she suspected her narrow ex- 
 perience, and would occasionally question 
 herself, if she were justified in her unfavour- 
 able view of mankind ; but she thought, 
 
 " True, I have not known many persons, 
 but those few have proved most treacherous. 
 Talents and great powers of mind first mis- 
 led me ; then I was equally deceived by an 
 appearance of high principle. My own dear 
 brother, who did not and would not have 
 failed me, is gone ; and the only person who 
 would have raised my standard of excellence
 
 150 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 has left the task incomplete, and my views 
 too justly prejudiced. The fruits of experi- 
 ence are like the apples on the shore of that 
 deadly lake of which travellers tell us, fair 
 to the eyes and of much promise, within dust 
 and unmixed bitterness. The soil that rears 
 that plant to perfection will be a scorched 
 and withered one ; the ashes of a blighted 
 hope, and memory, will best bring it to per- 
 fection." 
 
 Thus argued Edith Vernon. And those 
 who met her in London, and were surprised 
 at the cold haughty manner or satirical wit 
 of Miss Vernon — those who heard her preju- 
 diced construction of almost every action, 
 marvelled that so fair and gentle a face be- 
 longed to a spirit thus misanthropic. Some 
 concluded it was as the possessor of unex- 
 pected wealth that Edith had become thus 
 proud and supercilious. Could they have 
 read the history of that heart, they would
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 151 
 
 have discovered that worldly prosperity had 
 not chilled its sympathies, but had revealed 
 to it the hollowness of human professions, 
 and because riches and disappointment had 
 come together, such was the disposition of 
 that unbending spirit, that the latter was 
 attributed solely to the influence of the for- 
 mer. But so it is : an aching heart may 
 beat under the gayest trappings — sorrow as 
 well as pride may give a reserved and re- 
 pulsive manner. 
 
 At last Miss Vernon was sufficiently re- 
 covered to proceed to London with her 
 guardian. She bade farewell to her home 
 and its friends, and many a mingled feeling 
 passed her mind as she crossed the threshold 
 of Downton House for the last time. She 
 regretted the affectionate adieus of Mrs. 
 Trevor. 
 
 Admiral Thornton welcomed her to Gros- 
 venor Street. It seemed as if his happiness
 
 152 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 in the society of his ward was capable of no 
 increase. A suite of rooms was set apart for 
 her, in which he forbade any one to enter 
 without the especial permission of their 
 tenant, and she was allowed and enjoined to 
 do and have whatever most pleased her for 
 the moment. She had become fanciful and 
 capricious — the whim of to-day was not the 
 whim of to-morrow. But, amidst all these 
 inconsistencies, Miss Vernon remained firmly 
 and affectionately attached to her kind old 
 friend, and the sarcastic levity that marked 
 her manner when addressing all else, was 
 exchanged for respectful tenderness to him. 
 
 It was in vain that Lady Charlotte en- 
 treated she would mix more in society. 
 
 " Oh, wait a little, my dear madam ; you 
 cannot imagine how dreary and desolate I 
 feel in the midst of happy faces. My own 
 mourning dress and sad visage would shed 
 a gloom over everything."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 153 
 
 " Yes, Miss Vernon, but that will be only 
 at first ; make the effort and you will soon 
 enjoy the society of strangers." 
 
 Miss Yemon prayed for a little respite : 
 and from day to day she declined all invita- 
 tions, and sometimes refused to join her 
 friends in the drawing-room. 
 
 One day she was sitting alone, and Mr. 
 Errington was announced. She received 
 him with her usual cold and reserved manner, 
 and any slight emotion he might have felt at 
 being Ute-d-tcte with the woman he loved, was 
 quickly dispelled by the ease of her recep- 
 tion of him. The conversation that passed 
 between them was animated — the few mutual 
 friends they knew in London were spoken 
 of; and, as Edith passed lightly in review 
 from one to another, and the same ironical 
 remarks on all, Mr. Errington was amazed 
 that this bitterness should come from the 
 fair and gentle-looking being who sat quietly
 
 154 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 bending over her work frame, and occasion- 
 ally fixing her bright blue eyes on his with 
 a mixture of raillery and earnestness that 
 was very irresistible. 
 
 Thus passed several visits. Mr. Erring- 
 ton's morning calls were frequent ; and when 
 at last he began the following conversation, 
 he discovered that there lay beneath the 
 hardened surface of Miss Vernon's manner 
 more deep feeling than could have been sup- 
 posed. 
 
 " Does Miss Vernon recollect the promise 
 she made me some months since of honour- 
 ing me with her friendship?" 
 
 Edith did not lift her eyes from her 
 drawing, but coldly observed, " I find, Mr. 
 Errington, I can only remember what I 
 would fain forget." 
 
 " The inference, then, to be drawn is, that 
 you have no wish to recollect that promise. I 
 am sorry for it, Miss Vernon. One of the
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 155 
 
 happiest delusions I have cherished is, that 
 you would not forget the assurance made me 
 some time since in the ball-room at the Duke 
 ofM 's." 
 
 " My regard for the living," replied Edith, 
 " can never equal my regrets for those who 
 are gone " (in that list were numbered all 
 who had excluded themselves from her re- 
 gard, as well as those removed by death). 
 *■ You can hardly imagine the small stock of 
 interest I feel for any one — I wish it were 
 otherwise ; but the friendship I once had to 
 bestow on all, seems vanished and lost." 
 
 The tears filled her eyes, and left traces 
 on the drawing paper, which proved that 
 her words found an answering echo in her 
 heart, and that they were genuine and un- 
 artificial. She continued, seeing that her 
 visitor made no reply, 
 
 "As a friend of Admiral Thornton's, I 
 must receive your visits; as a gentleman
 
 156 edith yernon; or, 
 
 and man of the world, yon will not ask 
 me for anything beyond the civility I 
 should bestow on any indifferent acquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 Mr. Errington would have combated this 
 hard measure ; but Miss Vernon, immedi- 
 ately rising, wished him "good morning," 
 saying she would inform Lady Charlotte of 
 his presence in the drawing-room. 
 
 Mr. Errington wished to appropriate the 
 half-finished sheet that was left on the 
 table ; but he had been too well assured of 
 Miss Vernon's indifference to show on his 
 part such interest for her. Taking one 
 glance around the room that had witnessed 
 the overthrow of his bright hopes, he took 
 his hat, and left the house. 
 
 Edith felt none of the sorrow of former 
 days at the idea of giving another pain. 
 No ! she considered that his folly had 
 brought on this repulse ; and she thought
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 157 
 
 him fortunate to hear the truth at once, and 
 not to have it forced on him after a belief 
 in all principle had fled. 
 
 It was a few days after this occurrence 
 that Miss Vernon and Lady Charlotte were 
 shopping. The carriage was waiting in 
 Bond Street ; and Lady Charlotte Thornton 
 had left the barouche, and her young friend 
 seated in it. A slight bustle took place in 
 the street ; and as the throng each moment 
 became more dense, and the noise increased, 
 the passers-by were delayed before Admiral 
 Thornton's carriage. She leant back, taking 
 no notice of what was going on around her, 
 possibly unconscious of the presence of a 
 single human being. A cry of " Stop thief !" 
 caused her to look up, and in a tall, dis- 
 tinguished-looking man who was standing 
 close by her, she recognised Henry Morton. 
 The deep blush that crimsoned her cheek, 
 the quiver of the lip, would have appeared
 
 158 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 somewhat enigmatical to that other lover 
 who had but a few days previously heard 
 her professions of indifference to all men and 
 women then living. 
 
 She bowed coldly and distantly to Mr. 
 Morton, and her reserved manner was imi- 
 tated by him ; but when he spoke, his in- 
 quiry after her health was made not without 
 emotion. 
 
 " I am quite well, thank you," was uttered 
 in a tone so formal and chilling, that Morton 
 determined at once he would crush any ap- 
 pearance of feeling ; and the few remarks 
 that were made were trite and common- 
 place. They descanted on the disagreeables 
 of a London crowd, on the unseasonableness 
 of the season ; and at last, when these mat- 
 ters were exhausted, Lady Charlotte, having 
 completed her bargains, rejoined Edith. 
 
 With one throb of disappointment, more 
 intense than she could have described, she
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 159 
 
 beheld Morton raise his hat, and pronounce 
 the parting " Good morning, Miss Vernon.' ' 
 She, too, bowed in return, and her lips 
 moved, but no sound came from them. 
 
 "Have you any commissions this morn- 
 ing ?" inquired Lady Charlotte of Edith. 
 
 " Nothing," replied the latter, in a tone 
 of such deep meaning, that Lady Charlotte 
 was aroused to look at her companion ; but 
 she discerned nothing to comment upon. 
 Edith looked particularly well, and Lady 
 Charlotte was not one to examine, except 
 superficially, 
 
 "Who was that gentleman, Edith, to 
 whom you were speaking ?V 
 
 " Mr. Morton." 
 
 " Have you been long acquainted ?" 
 
 "He used occasionally to spend some 
 time at Stoneleigh. — Do admire that very 
 beautiful woman, Lady Charlotte. Look, 
 look ! this side of the carriage," said Edith,
 
 160 EDITH VERNON ; OH, 
 
 directing her attention to a group of gen- 
 tlemen who were thronging round a carriage. 
 
 Lady Charlotte, startled by the tone of 
 interest, forgot herself sufficiently to look 
 hastily at the party in question ; and seeing 
 nothing (for there was nothing to be seen), 
 she felt all the irritation an indolent person 
 is capable of, after having been roused to 
 unnecessary exertion. 
 
 But Edith had gained her point ; she was 
 secure from all further questioning on the 
 subject of Morton ; for Lady Charlotte was 
 offended, and her indignation was shown by 
 silence. 
 
 But when Miss Yernon reached home, and 
 the seclusion of her own room, she gave 
 some sign of the long pent up anguish she 
 had endured. She had involuntarily clung 
 to the hope that Morton was not indifferent 
 to her ; but this last meeting had dispelled 
 all such illusions ; he had not even inquired
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 161 
 
 where she was staying. His manner was 
 both reserved and yet at ease ; she was not 
 aware that her own was as much so, and a 
 mutual misunderstanding embittered the 
 present and future of both parties. 
 
 When Edith rejoined Admiral Thornton 
 and Lady Charlotte, she inquired "When 
 they intended leaving London." 
 
 " If Lady Charlotte is prepared to go into 
 Shropshire, whenever you wish it, my love," 
 was the kind answer. 
 
 " I thought, Miss Vernon, you preferred 
 London; so you said the other day, you 
 would sooner remain in Grosvenor Street," 
 observed Lady Charlotte Thornton. 
 
 a I know I did; and now my earnest wish 
 is to- leave it far, far behind me." 
 
 Of course in a few days the party were en 
 route for Shropshire, and a few more saw 
 them established at Eernhill, Admiral Thorn- 
 ton's favourite country residence. 
 VOL. i. m
 
 162 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 " Qv' attendons nous des hommes? lis sont foibles, 
 inconstants, aveugles : les uns ne veulent pas ce qu'ils 
 peuvent ; et les autres ne peuvent pas ce qu'ils veulent. 
 La nature est un roseau casse — si on veut appuyer 
 dessus, le roseau plie, ne peut nous soutenir, et nous 
 perce la main." — Fenelon. 
 
 When Morton parted from Edith Vernon 
 in Bond Street he sauntered to his home in 
 St. James's Place in no very joyous mood. 
 But his was a spirit that thinketh no evil, 
 and his favourite maxim was: ""Wait till 
 the end." "She cannot be so changed as 
 to pass haughtily and coldly the friends of 
 her home and youth. My manner perhaps
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 163 
 
 was constrained. Did I believe her to be 
 so fickle, so easily wrought on by circum- 
 stances, I should mourn over the change ; 
 but I should regret her less. But that can- 
 not be. The memory of her will still come 
 as a sunbeam to gild many a lonely hour. 
 I am sure that though I may have loved 
 hopelessly, I have not loved unworthily." 
 
 With these broken thoughts he reached 
 his father's house. His view of human 
 nature was not embittered because that 
 morning one individual had, perhaps, dis- 
 appointed him. He still believed that warm 
 affections and high principle did exist, in 
 spite of many chilling circumstances* And 
 with a heart devoted to one, he did not feel 
 it his duty or wish to neglect the many. 
 And the guests who on that evening 
 thronged Lady Mary Morton's soiree felt 
 that Mr. Morton had not only the desire 
 to please, but the happy art of pleasing.
 
 164 EDITH VEEXOX; OK, 
 
 Soon after this he left London, having 
 been ordained to a small curacy in Surrey, 
 and a few months later, the old incumbent 
 of Deerhurst having died, Henry accepted 
 the presentation from his friend, Lord Kes- 
 towel. There he remained for many a long 
 year, and, however sad it may seem, he was 
 calm and happy. There was perhaps more 
 of peaee than joy in the appearance of the 
 young clergyman ; but he could steadily go 
 on with his duty. He could think of Edith 
 — he could pray for her — and in time he 
 almost supposed he could, with tolerable 
 composure, have met her as the wife of ano- 
 ther. This, however, was more enigmatical 
 than the rest ; but he carried out into prac- 
 tice his rule, and did wait till the end. It 
 solved his doubts and misgivings and justi- 
 fied his plan. 
 
 The Thorntons arrived at Fernhill, in 
 Shropshire; they were much fatigued with
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 165 
 
 their journey. This fatigue acted differently 
 on the trio. It caused Admiral Thornton to 
 be more active, at least in proportion as his 
 limbs were wearied did his mind become 
 more busy, and the contest between the two 
 rendered him rather irritable. 
 
 Lady Charlotte became a more faithful 
 illustration of ice — her hands seemed colder, 
 her words were colder and more measured, 
 and her views and ideas could assume even 
 a more apathetic tinge. And when Admiral 
 Thornton congratulated himself and his wife 
 on their having arrived in safety at Fernhill, 
 and, ringing the bell, gave numberless direc- 
 tions, Lady Charlotte only remarked "that 
 she was scarcely if at all aware of the 
 change; in fact, London and Shropshire were 
 the same to her." 
 
 " Then, Lady Charlotte, you must be — " 
 While he hunted for a term to express all 
 his indignation, Edith feared he was going
 
 
 166 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 to say "a fool;" but she felt relieved and 
 half amused when after a considerable pause 
 he contented himself with the words "very 
 unobservant," and he returned with double 
 zeal to his task of giving orders and making 
 inquiries. 
 
 Edith felt more than usually inclined to 
 be dispirited. She had so desired the quiet 
 and repose of lernhill, and now she almost 
 dreaded it. "Yes," thought she, "thus 
 it is in life ! What we have most ardently 
 wished in that are we most disappointed; 
 and perhaps were we to obtain all we have 
 wished, we should be more disappointed 
 still. "Who has not felt the mind turn upon 
 itself, and painfully ask, is this what I have 
 striven for, and prayed for, and hoped for ? 
 From childhood to the grave it is the same. 
 The child, with its toys and its holidays — 
 the aged man, with his energies failing, his 
 mind, and strength, and talents fading —
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 167 
 
 his object gained at last, and then found, 
 oh ! how bitterly unsatisfactory. In am- 
 bition, in love, 'tis the same ; the crown of 
 laurels withers in our grasp ; the object most 
 loved turns to dust, or, far, far worse, is 
 found unworthy. Strange that in owning 
 this, and feeling it, we feel a sort of com- 
 placent misery, a kind of happy sorrow — 
 nay more, that owning it we still cherish 
 life. Strangely constituted arc we, that in- 
 stead of flying to what alone is unchange- 
 able for our happiness, we should, from one 
 scene of vexation, still hurry on to another, 
 till life's little dream be ended." 
 
 Lady Charlotte's offer of refreshment dis- 
 turbed this gloomy train of thought. A 
 night's rest, and a bright sun gaily shining 
 on the glorious landscape visible from Miss 
 Vernon's window, gave a fresher tint to her 
 views on the following morning ; and she 
 descended to the breakfast-room, and greeted
 
 168 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 her guardian with a countenance beaming 
 with animation and hope. 
 
 Fcrnhill was entirely English. It was an 
 old-fashioned brick house, situated on a hill 
 clothed with wood. The park was laid out 
 with considerable taste, the clumps of trees 
 and thick underwood so disposed as to give 
 an appearance of sylvan wildness, where, in 
 fact, order and rule had been remembered 
 throughout. There was a magnificent sheet 
 of water in the grounds, and the hills gradu- 
 ally sloped away to the hollow in which lay 
 this fairy lake. 
 
 Shropshire is a beautiful county, and Fern- 
 hill seemed to take a bird's-eye view of all its 
 beauties ; and whether Miss Vernon looked 
 at the hills, piled up in wild confusion imme- 
 diately before her, or her eyes wandered 
 away to the "Welsh mountains, illumined by 
 the rays of the parting sun or invested with 
 sublimity by the dark masses of cloud that
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 169 
 
 overhung them ; if the river wound like a 
 silver thread through the valley, its course 
 hidden for a moment to give the keener 
 sense of its loveliness when the eye once more 
 perceived it ; or if a link between the past 
 and the present arrested her attention in the 
 form of the noble old castle, that seems, even 
 now, to lord it over the quiet and picturesque 
 town of Fosbrook, — still beauty was there, 
 and on all sides it claimed admiration. 
 
 Fernhill, too, had its own peculiar beauties 
 — its gardens and its lawns. They were 
 pretty even in winter ; and the winter flowers 
 that still lingered on, despite the notice they 
 had had to quit, gave Edith some idea of 
 what must be the beauty of the whole when 
 summer had flushed the sober hues into the 
 brilliancy of crimson, blue, lilac, and yellow 
 — when the trees were green and the mea- 
 dows bright with the wild-flowers of England; 
 but even on that winter's evening, as a splen-
 
 170 EDITH VERNON 1 ; OR, 
 
 did sunset lent to Nature a colouring that she 
 herself for the time possessed not — as the 
 rich shades of purple and orange illumined 
 the prospect far and near, and then changed 
 to a roseate hue which melted away into a 
 tender pink — nothing seemed wanting to in- 
 crease the beauty of the scene or Edith's en- 
 joyment ; and she forgot for a moment the 
 accompaniment which, in bygone days, had 
 heightened her every pleasure, " The reflec- 
 tion from looks that we love." 
 
 Her kind old friend had consulted her 
 wishes in the arrangements within the house. 
 She had, as in London, her suite of rooms — 
 her books, her music — her means of enjoy- 
 ment in all shapes ; and she resolved to show 
 her sense of this kind consideration by atten- 
 tion to Admiral Thornton's wishes, and by en- 
 deavours at cheerfulness. As we said before, 
 comfort was the word which summed up all 
 his wishes in regard to his house. This word
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 171 
 
 he joined in the closest unity with " English" 
 — and English comfort combined his ideas of 
 usefulness, refinement, and elegance. Thus, 
 in the winter there was every contrivance for 
 excluding the cold and promoting warmth, 
 and in summer all sorts of devices for deny- 
 ing admittance to the sun and inducing all 
 the cool breezes to enter. The library was 
 well and judiciously filled, and there was a 
 constant supply of the best and newest pub- 
 lications of the day. The servants were old 
 and tried ones, and liberality was the order 
 of the day at Eernhill. 
 
 The inhabitants of an old, quiet county 
 town are not celebrated for originality or 
 sprightliness. Moreover, any talents of the 
 kind Lady Charlotte was not famous for 
 eliciting. Thus the intercourse kept up 
 with the good people of Fosbrook was very 
 freezing, and very rare. Lady Charlotte 
 awed them at first starting ; they had no
 
 172 EDITH VERNON ) OK, 
 
 subjects in common, and the sayings and 
 doings of Mr. and Mrs. A., B., and C, were 
 not only uninteresting to her, but she seemed 
 never able to understand them; and when 
 some more indefatigable talker than the rest 
 endeavoured to explain or relate to her any 
 of these provincial details, she either merely 
 bowed her head in reply, or sometimes ven- 
 tured to say, " Indeed!" Once wishing to 
 be peculiarly civil, she listened with all her 
 might and main, and when the history was 
 finished, and she began to sum up the evi- 
 dence, she imputed to Mrs. C. the deeds of 
 Mrs. A., and to Mr. B. the sayings of Mrs. 
 C. The narrator looked horror-struck — poor 
 Lady Charlotte colder and more placid than 
 ever; and the Eosbrook world agreed that 
 as to interesting that Lady Charlotte it was 
 impossible, either in her own affairs or her 
 neighbours' : that, for the future, they should 
 call once at Fernhill — that was a duty they
 
 COKTRASTS OF CHABACTER. 173 
 
 owed to themselves and the county families 
 — but as to making a long visit, or repeating 
 it, that they would not do, and they hoped it 
 would not be expected of them. It was neither 
 hoped nor feared. Lady Charlotte hardly ap- 
 peared to remember if these visits had been 
 made or not. And Edith Vernon, who had an 
 instinctive (bead of the prosaic nature of such 
 society, was agreeably surprised to discover 
 that to her it was only an evil in theory. 
 
 Their nearer neighbours were, generally 
 speaking, conversant with the world, and 
 with that portion of it denominated the 
 fashionable, and, though, perhaps, the con- 
 versation current among this class of people 
 is not, in reality, one whit more intellectual 
 than that of the less distinguished indivi- 
 duals composing the Fosbrook world, still, 
 generally speaking, there is a graceful- 
 ness and lightness that make up for a want 
 of depth, and occasionally a knowledge of
 
 174 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 books, an insight into character, and a fund 
 of anecdote, that can render even a morning 
 call a matter of pleasure, as well as necessity. 
 All this Miss Vernon discovered by degrees ; 
 yet she felt so little interest for the indi- 
 viduals themselves, that, with one or two 
 exceptions, she only remembered to forget, 
 and, at this period, her mourning dress and 
 recent affliction gave her a fair plea for de- 
 clining much society. 
 
 Her mornings were spent in her own room; 
 she read much and constantly. With no 
 one to direct her choice of books, and with a 
 great appetite for information, and abundant 
 sources wherewith to supply it, her studies 
 were good, bad, and indifferent. Nor did 
 she read without consideration and reflec- 
 tion. Any work that treated of man, his 
 views and designs, his mental or moral 
 powers, she read over and over again. And 
 then, when history or biography was the
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 175 
 
 subject of her study, then this or that 
 system of moral philosophy she brought to 
 bear on individual character. Her imagina- 
 tion, too, was not idle ; works of fiction, 
 whether in prose or verse, she delighted in, 
 and a six months' course of hard reading, 
 added to the varied information she had 
 gained from Trevor, made 'Edith not a 
 " learned lady" — far from it — but a woman 
 of cultivated mind, clear judgment, and bril- 
 liant imagination, superior to most of those 
 whom she might meet with in her inter- 
 course with the world, and possessing suffi- 
 cient resources within herself to be in a 
 measure independent of those around her. 
 In after life, when in the midst of stupid 
 and weary society (though it comprised the 
 titled and the wealthy), Edith's bright, ani- 
 mated looks were remarked with astonish- 
 ment, when, in the midst of a long preamble 
 on the state of the weather, or some fashion-
 
 17 G edith yernon; or, 
 
 able folly, her thoughts were far away 
 amidst the brilliant imaginings of those 
 choice spirits whose works live for ever. 
 She had even now begun to learn the art of 
 separating herself from the monotonous pre- 
 sent, and enjoying a wild mental ramble 
 amidst the past and future. Then, too, she 
 rode and walked with Admiral Thornton ; the 
 neighbouring poor soon learned to value the 
 kindness and liberality of the young lady who 
 had come to live with 'Squire Thornton. 
 Her sympathies were aroused, her feelings 
 interested, without her being called on to 
 make an effort to like people, or teased by 
 their professions of admiration. And all the 
 time Edith supposed her heart was chilled by 
 disappointment, and that she could love no one 
 but her kind guardian ; each day insensibly 
 did she unlearn that lesson — each day did 
 Mature teach her the goodness and bounty of 
 her Creator, and the grateful cottagers prove
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 177 
 
 to her that kindness and kind feeling are 
 reciprocal, that affection and respect are more 
 than a name. 
 
 By degrees, too, she felt more and more 
 convinced that her first disappointment in 
 life arose from her having neglected to as- 
 certain if the foundations were based on 
 principle. Her reflections on Henry Mor- 
 ton were less satisfactory ; she had made 
 sure that the highest integrity and purest 
 faith were his. Still, he too had disap- 
 pointed her — he too had met her with cold- 
 ness ; and when she had looked for sym- 
 pathy and kindness, she had been chilled with 
 indifference and neglect. All this she felt 
 was a mystery. And as the recollection of 
 his high and consistent character, his kind- 
 ness both expressed and shown to her in 
 former days, passed before her, she endea- 
 voured to turn from the subject, to reflect 
 only on the bright side of the picture, to still 
 
 VOL. i. a
 
 178 EDITH VERNON ; OK, 
 
 love the memory of what he had been. She, 
 too, unconsciously determined to wait till 
 the end. At last the thought of Henry 
 Morton floated before her, as some bright 
 dream which was not to be realized, as a 
 past event that did not, could not interfere 
 with her present or future. "It shall not 
 prejudice me against mankind, but it may 
 well teach me more caution." Sometimes 
 her desolate state made her dispirited. 
 Admiral Thornton was the only being in 
 the world who appeared to have an interest 
 in her, a claim on her affection and love, a 
 right to her time and best energies. 
 
 One morning Edith Vernon had been 
 pondering over the wild and obscure fictions 
 of Dante. She had well-nigh become dis- 
 heartened as the meaning of the Florentine 
 seemed more and more allegorical, referring 
 to the history of his own times, to the pri- 
 vate life of individuals, and to the dark,
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 179 
 
 crooked policy of the Bomish Church. She 
 had no one to assist her in throwing any- 
 light on the subject ; and though the lan- 
 guage was familiar to her, and the ideas 
 were brought with sufficient clearness to 
 her imagination, still she felt there was a 
 something sous-entendu, which if explained 
 would have given point to many a satirical 
 passage, and line of threatened vengeance. 
 
 Miss Yernon laid aside her book, and 
 wandered into the garden. There was a 
 conservatory placed on the top of a slight 
 ascent that led to a long terrace-walk, and 
 which formed in that direction the boundary 
 to the garden. 
 
 " I shall run as fast as possible up the 
 hill and to the end of the walk, then see if I 
 can find any flowers in the greenhouse, and 
 run back again to my book." 
 
 This plan she immediately put in execu- 
 tion, and, with her bouquet in her hand,
 
 180 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 returned to the house. She opened the 
 library door, and seeing Admiral Thornton 
 in the room looking very intently out of the 
 window, she addressed him, 
 
 " Look, my dear sir ! this small bunch of 
 flowers is all that the conservatory contains ;. 
 in fact, it is a wilderness of leaves." 
 
 The gentleman turned round ; but Edith 
 was bending over her flowers, and did not 
 see his face ; she continued speaking. 
 
 " Only these geraniums, this scarlet heath, 
 and a few roses ! Is it not an ungracious 
 supply?" 
 
 She looked up as she asked the question, 
 and then first perceived she had been ad- 
 dressing a stranger. She apologized for her 
 mistake, and observed that the similarity of 
 height had led her to suppose she was 
 addressing Admiral Thornton. 
 
 The stranger replied that his visit was 
 to Admiral Thornton, who, as he understood,.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 181 
 
 was at home ; and at that moment the door 
 opened, and the person in question entered 
 the room, and introduced Lord Fernmore to 
 Miss Vernon. 
 
 "When did you arrive at Bedsay, my 
 lord?" 
 
 " About two days since. I have been to 
 
 Scotland, on a visit to the Duke of B , 
 
 and very agreeably employed in shooting 
 and deer-stalking. I hope Lady Charlotte 
 is quite well." 
 
 A most satisfactory reply was given on 
 this subject, and then Lord Fernmore ad- 
 dressed himself to Miss Vernon. 
 
 "You were lamenting the scarcity of 
 flowers, Miss Vernon. Perhaps you would al- 
 low my gardener to send you a bouquet from 
 Eedsay. I believe he considers his collection 
 very beautiful, and I am so little of an ama- 
 teur, that they are almost thrown away on me." 
 
 " Thank you," said Edith ; " I think I can
 
 182 EDITH VERNON I OR 
 
 promise to admire them, though I am a very 
 ignorant florist." And then, turning to Ad- 
 miral Thornton, she added, in her clear voice, 
 and with her soft smile, u You must let me 
 reform the conservatory." 
 
 " Anything you like to do, my love; it 
 cannot be wrong." 
 
 "I will not listen to the dangerous doc- 
 trine of infallibility." 
 
 She curtseyed to Lord Fernmore, and, 
 shaking her flowers at her guardian, left the 
 room. 
 
 "MissYernon is very lovely," observed 
 Lord Fernmore. " Is she on a visit to Lady 
 Charlotte?" 
 
 " Edith Yernon is an orphan; I am her 
 guardian, and she lives with me till she 
 marries, or becomes weary of the society of 
 Lady Charlotte and myself." 
 
 The subject was allowed to drop. The 
 two gentlemen discussed the improvements
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 183 
 
 they had both made or intended to make on 
 their respective estates ; then politics were 
 the theme of conversation, and they differed 
 sufficiently to give a zest to the argument, 
 but they agreed to differ ; and nothing could 
 more have increased Admiral Thornton's 
 happiness than the arrival of his lordship in 
 the neighbourhood of Fernhill. 
 
 As Lord Fernmore rode home, he thought 
 of nothing but Edith Yernon ; her appear- 
 ance and manner quite haunted him. He 
 endeavoured to recollect what she had said ; 
 but he found nothing very original or strik- 
 ing in it. It was the intellectual look, the 
 bright animated manner, the silvery voice, 
 that gave a fascination to the common 
 phrases of polished life, and an ease of man- 
 ner that pleased even the most fastidious. 
 
 Miss Vernon returned to her Dante, quite 
 ignorant of the impression she had made on 
 the hitherto unsusceptible Lord Fernmore ;
 
 184 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 nor did she think of him again till the arri- 
 val of a splendid basket of flowers from Ked- 
 say, with his lordship's compliments to Miss 
 Vernon. 
 
 "I like Lord Fernmore," remarked Edith 
 to her guardian ; " he seems a very kind old 
 man: these are beautiful flowers!" added 
 she, as she examined her treasures, and pro- 
 ceeded to arrange them in the Etruscan- 
 shaped vases that ornamented her boudoir.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 185 
 
 CHAPTEK XI. 
 
 Thou by whose expressive art 
 Her perfect image Nature sees 
 
 In union with the Graces start, 
 And, sweeter by reflection, please 
 
 !" 
 
 A few days after this, Admiral Thornton 
 asked Edith " if she would like to drive with 
 him over to Eedsay ?" 
 
 " Indeed I should. At what hour shall 
 you go ?" 
 
 The time was arranged ; and Edith, as she 
 looked at the brilliant plants that already 
 drooped their heads and began to wear that 
 limp appearance which is the first beginning 
 of decay — Edith, on observing all this,
 
 186 EDITH VERNON J OR 
 
 thought, with much glee, "My pretty little 
 foster-children, I shall bring another bouquet 
 from Eedsay to supply your place." 
 
 Eedsay was magnificent. Nature had done 
 much, and art had well seconded her. As 
 Edith entered the entrance-hall, with its 
 floor and pillars of marble, and gazed 
 outwards on the view, which, though of the 
 same kind as the one enjoyed from Fernhill, 
 was even more extensive and varied, she felt 
 as though the subject were a fresh one, and 
 that she had never before been aware of the 
 richness of Nature and the emotions it was 
 capable of awakening in her mind. 
 
 But to return to the description of Eedsay. 
 On either side the hall, between the pillars, 
 were massive doors of carved oak, which 
 opened, on the one side, into a saloon, library, 
 and picture-gallery, and on the other into 
 a suite of apartments, the last of which was a 
 music-room of beautiful proportions. In the
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 187 
 
 house there was not only a large collec- 
 tion of portraits, illustrative of several suc- 
 cessive generations of the Fernmore family, 
 but also many choice and well-selected speci- 
 mens of the old masters, especially of the 
 Italian school. Among these, a" Holy Family," 
 by Correggio, stood prominent. This picture 
 was not in the gallery, but placed with two 
 or three others of especial value in the music- 
 room. In this the face and figure of the 
 Virgin were so remarkable for their beauty 
 and the excellency of the painting, that, as a 
 triumph of genius and work of art, it seemed 
 to claim especial honour. An reste, every 
 device had been employed in this apartment 
 to improve the sound of music and lap both 
 soul and body in Elysium. One piece of 
 sculpture, a "Sleeping Boy," by Canova, 
 reclined under the shade of the crimson 
 drapery, whose rich hue lent to marble some- 
 thing of the warmth of life, and tinted the
 
 188 EDITH VERNON ; OR 
 
 lip, on which a soft smile played, as though 
 the sounds that were heard in that room had 
 brought fairy visions even to the mind of 
 childhood. 
 
 "When Edith had sufficiently admired, she 
 returned to Admiral Thornton, who she 
 found had been joined by Lord Fernmore. 
 She apologised for having wandered through 
 the rooms ; " but I had heard of the Cor- 
 reggio, and my curiosity was great. I have 
 had so few opportunities of seeing good 
 paintings that your lordship will excuse me." 
 
 Lord Fernmore then mentioned the pic- 
 ture-gallery, and proposed that Miss Yernon 
 should look over its contents. 
 
 She agreed with much delight so to do ; 
 and, after having passed from one painting 
 to another, she turned to Lord Fernmore and 
 requested permission to be left there alone. 
 "Admiral Thornton will summon me when 
 he thinks it time to return home, and I am
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 189 
 
 sure you would laugh at me were you to see 
 the enthusiastic admiration I shall bestow on 
 some of these pictures." 
 
 The two gentlemen were about to combat 
 this proposal, but Edith said to her guardian, 
 in her quiet yet decided manner, u You will 
 indulge my whim ?" and of course she was 
 soon left in solitude. 
 
 She placed herself opposite a very clever 
 copy of Guido's " Beatrice Cenci." She 
 looked at it as though it would recall the past, 
 as though the sorrows and agonies of Beatrice 
 were written on her face as on a book ; and 
 when, arousing herself, she moved on to a 
 spirited portrait by Yandyck, yet she quickly 
 returned and fixed her eyes on the pale face 
 — the intense and agonised expression — of 
 the beautiful parricide. 
 
 How wonderful is genius ! JNot only does 
 it embody its own imaginings, but from its 
 works you seem to receive a portion of the
 
 190 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 spark. "Not only does light beget light ; but 
 new forms, fresh illustrations and combina- 
 tions, appear to be elicited by a view of such 
 a work as that of Guido. Edith had felt 
 this on perusing certain books — Shakspeare, 
 for instance. The master-mind that could 
 conceive such a character as Hamlet, seems 
 to inspire you with a faint reflection of the 
 flame, and you feel inclined to fancy the man 
 under new circumstances and different com- 
 bination of interests. 
 
 So it was now. On gazing on that magic 
 portrait, Miss Yernon placed her hands firmly 
 before her eyes and saw nothing reflected 
 there but the sad, colourless brow — and she 
 wove a history of hopes and fears for the 
 young being whose resemblance was placed 
 before her. Every now and then she stole a 
 glance at the original, to see if the outline 
 suited the filling up that she had fancied, 
 and then, once more averting her gaze, re-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 191 
 
 sumed her imaginative occupation, till she 
 forgot that she was in a stranger's house, and 
 that the realities of the case would be — a drive 
 to Fernhill and an evening's tete-a-tete with 
 Lady Charlotte. 
 
 The time passed so rapidly that she felt 
 astonished when Admiral Thornton assured 
 her that one hour had already passed, and 
 only one painting examined ; but she gave a 
 promise that her visit to Eedsay should be 
 speedily repeated ; and when she took leave 
 of Lord Fernmore, she thanked him for per- 
 mitting her to have her own way. This, 
 however, had always been a great object to 
 Edith, and latterly Admiral Thornton had 
 taken care it should be on all occasions 
 yielded to her as a matter of course. 
 
 As they drove to Fernhill Edith inquired 
 if Lord Fernmore were a widower, and if he 
 were childless. 
 
 " He seems to me to require some connec-
 
 192 EDITH VERXON ; OS, 
 
 tion of that kind to perfect the pleasures of 
 that beautiful place." 
 
 Admiral Thornton said he was not a 
 widower — had never been married; and 
 thinking that the circumstance required 
 some explanation, he invented, on the spur 
 of the moment, a little historiette which 
 might possibly be matter of fact, but cer- 
 tainly was a romance on Admiral Thornton's 
 part. 
 
 " I believe that Lord Fernmore had some 
 attachment when he was young, and the lady 
 died or proved unfaithful." 
 
 " Ah ! that was even more hard to bear," 
 said Edith with a tone of such sadness, that 
 Admiral Thornton made an involuntary ex- 
 clamation of surprise. 
 
 U I am sorry for him," continued she; 
 "he appears so kindly considerate to others. 
 I hope he is happy." 
 
 Admiral Thornton was afraid to concoct
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 193 
 
 any more fictions, seeing they were received 
 with such artless conviction ; so he merely 
 replied, 
 
 " I dare say he is very happy." And the 
 discussion ended. 
 
 But Edith chose to believe that Lord 
 Fernmore was unhappy : she felt a sort 
 of interest in him from this conviction. 
 His kind manner towards herself, which 
 resembled the affectionate warmth of her 
 guardian, and when, in time, she had a 
 constant opportunity of observing his moral 
 worth, his goodness to all around him, 
 his delicate attention to her feelings, his 
 numberless kindnesses, which, coming from 
 an elder person to one so young as her- 
 self, were the more winning, — all these 
 circumstances combined, by the time au- 
 tumn had well-nigh returned, to render 
 Lord Fernmore an object of esteem and 
 regard, to cause Eedsay to have become 
 
 vol. i. o
 
 194 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 as familiar to her as Fernhill. Thus when 
 she paid her long visits, wandering from one 
 work of art to another, from the contempla- 
 tion of its natural beauties to the grace of 
 the interior arrangements of Redsay, the 
 young orphan felt grateful that Lord Fern- 
 more should haye come across her path, to 
 add to all her warm feelings of gratitude for 
 everything connected with Shropshire, and 
 to raise her standard of personal excellence. 
 
 Her mind was enlarged by the range she 
 enjoyed over the picture-gallery ; this was 
 one avenue to improvement previously un- 
 opened to her. Hitherto she had never 
 imagined that brilliant conceptions could 
 have been so glowingly embodied, but now 
 the various styles of the Italian, German, 
 French, and Dutch schools, were to her an 
 endless source of gratification and delight. 
 
 There was one painting that in the cata- 
 logue was only styled " a portrait." The artist
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 195 
 
 was said to be Giorgione; but Edith felt 
 convinced that the work must be intended 
 to represent Cleopatra. The figure was re- 
 clining, and on the marble yet rounded 
 bosom were two drops of blood. The face 
 was one composed of a series of expressions ; 
 the features were haughty yet soft, and were 
 a combination of dignity and languor, of in- 
 tellect and grace, which gave you an illus- 
 tration of the spirit that prompted her to 
 give her " bluest veins to kiss," as the most 
 refined recompence she had to bestow, that 
 led in bondage and subdued earth's bravest, 
 that could, to gain her ends, feign death, 
 and, to avoid the gaze of the common multi- 
 tude, realise it. 
 
 " It must be meant for Cleopatra," said 
 Edith to herself, as she looked on the studied 
 grace that marked even the death agonies of 
 Egypt's queen, as though the grave and cor- 
 ruption could scarce unlearn that lesson to
 
 196 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 that form of beauty ; and the half smile that 
 played around the pale lip seemed in that 
 last struggle so painfully sweet, that she 
 understood its fascination to have been suffi- 
 cient to account not only for Anthony's mad 
 infatuation, but also for the attached fidelity 
 of Charmian, which could not survive her 
 royal mistress. 
 
 " I wonder," said Edith to herself, " if I 
 could have understood the windings, the 
 shades of such a character ; the study would 
 be very fascinating though dangerous. Such 
 spirits have vanished from this matter-of-fact 
 world. I could, too, weave a thousand histories 
 for that noble brow and look of calm pride." 
 
 Miss Yernon was standing opposite a por- 
 trait by Vandyck. 
 
 " It would do for Columbus ; for the man 
 who, undaunted and unwearied, made l the 
 God of the ocean his trust and his guide.' 
 That expansive forehead and calm, earnest
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 197 
 
 look seem well capable of imagining and 
 then discovering a new world, and of hearing 
 nnmoved the taunts and sarcasms of the en- 
 vious and ignorant, the clamours of the wild 
 crew, the tempests, the dangers of an un- 
 known, untried sea, of surmounting them 
 all, and, in confiding trustfulness as regarded 
 the future, obeying the dictates of that 
 mighty genius within, whose whispers were 
 of hope, and whose only watchword was, 
 1 On, on ! ' » 
 
 And in sculpture too there were forms 
 that seemed to emulate the glowing tints of 
 the pencil. Sculpture has been termed "the 
 beauty of repose. " But there was one figure 
 in that collection which, though the mate- 
 rial was marble of a Parian hue, still seemed, 
 in its unclouded purity, to express the writh- 
 ings of a wounded spirit as magically as the 
 varied colourings a painter's art could give. 
 It was a Magdalen clasping the cross with
 
 198 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 a sort of convulsive fervour. The face was- 
 partly averted ; but on one temple the 
 veins seemed swollen with emotion ; the lips 
 were pressed with intensity against the sa- 
 cred instrument of torture ; and on the whole 
 form was shown the agony of conscious guilt. 
 There seemed a connection between mind 
 and matter. You could fancy that as each 
 forgotten sin came thronging back on the 
 memory of the penitent, it was shadowed 
 forth in the convulsed thrill that the long 
 foesses of hair could not entirely conceal — 
 tresses which were sacred from having wiped 
 a dying Saviour's feet. 
 
 One day Admiral Thornton requested a per- 
 sonal interview with Lord Fernmore. They 
 met, and the s subject of discussion related to 
 Edith Vernon. Her guardian stated that 
 she was almost twenty — that his legal claim 
 would not expire for nearly a twelvemonth. 
 
 " I have a request to make of you, my
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 199 
 
 lord, and I ask it on the strength of our old 
 friendship. If I should die before Miss 
 Vernon is twenty-one, will you promise me 
 to fulfil my post of guardian to her ? I 
 cannot think of her without many an anxious 
 foreboding. I should feel less doubtful did 
 I know you would supply my place when I 
 am gone." 
 
 Lord Fernmore waited a few moments 
 without replying, and then said — " Admiral 
 Thornton, you have nearly touched a subject 
 which I have long desired to mention to you. 
 I take this opportunity of expressing the 
 love I have for Miss Yernon. She is the 
 only person I ever met who seemed calcu- 
 lated to make me happy ; but I am not so 
 foolishly blind as to imagine that a man so 
 many years her senior can have excited in 
 her warmer feelings than those of esteem 
 and friendship. I dare not hope that she 
 could give her heart, her affections, to me.
 
 200 EDITH VERNON ; OR 
 
 Tell me, Admiral Thornton, if you suppose, 
 under these circumstances, I ought to consent 
 to become her guardian ? I think it would 
 be scarcely fair to either party." 
 
 " I do not agree with you in that respect. 
 You would then have a claim on her which 
 you might strengthen and improve. My 
 dearest wishes would be fulfilled in knowing 
 that Edith's happiness was confided to your 
 keeping ; but, at all events, do not refuse to 
 become her guardian in case of my death ; 
 and, for the rest, my lord, I wish you from 
 my heart success." 
 
 Lord Eernruore thanked his friend with a 
 fervour that proved how deep was his in- 
 terest in the result, and Admiral Thornton 
 promised, if possible, to ascertain the state 
 of Edith's feelings towards him. 
 
 Lord Eernmore was by no means sanguine. 
 Without being aware of Edith's previous 
 history, he felt that a being so singularly
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 201 
 
 gifted as was the young heiress — with talent 
 and beauty — with a heart fitted to respond 
 to the devotion of one young, imaginative, 
 fascinating as herself — could not be ex- 
 pected to spend the sympathies of her heart 
 on a man no longer young, and whose tastes 
 were more commonplace, whose ideas more 
 matter-of-fact, when compared with those of 
 the young creature on whom he felt he had 
 lavished all the love that had lain dormant 
 within him from his boyhood. " I can 
 hardly understand the spell she has cast 
 round me ; but her every look and word 
 seem stamped on my memory." 
 
 Lord Fernmore had passed his life princi- 
 pally with the gay and fashionable. He 
 had been accustomed to find every natural 
 expression of feeling checked. A cold, cal- 
 culating spirit was to be discovered in both 
 mothers and daughters. He was not used 
 to meet with the upright mind, the self-
 
 202 EDITH VEKNON J OK, 
 
 dependent spirit, that characterised Edith 
 Vernon. Then there was a constant variety 
 in her humour and her manner — a contrast 
 between her knowledge and worldly igno- 
 rance that seemed quite refreshing — a no- 
 velty in her peculiar views, her flow of 
 language, her quick appreciation of the 
 beautiful ; and her position was remarkable, 
 and claimed the sympathy of the generous 
 man who loved her so fondly. He recol- 
 lected the kind relations, the endeared 
 friends, who thronged around the homes of 
 most young people : all seemed rich in the 
 love of their nearest and dearest friends but 
 Edith Yernon ! One old man, and he com- 
 paratively a stranger, was the only being in 
 the world from whom she claimed the smile 
 of affection. Her large fortune and its 
 splendid accompaniments only seemed to 
 make her desolateness more evident. " She 
 resembles nothing that I have ever before
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 203 
 
 met with. ; and for this, perhaps, it is that I 
 love her," was Lord Fernmore's conclusion. 
 
 A month had nearly elapsed and the sub- 
 ject had not been mentioned to Miss Vernon. 
 She was sitting alone with her guardian bu- 
 sily employed in copying a manuscript piece 
 of music. At last she desisted from her 
 occupation, and placing her hand on Admiral 
 Thornton's shoulder and kissing his forehead, 
 she inquired, "If he suffered less pain in his 
 hand than he had done for some days pre- 
 viously ?" 
 
 " Gout, you know, Edith, is always very 
 painful. I have a peculiar dread of it. It 
 has been very fatal to my family.' * 
 
 " Do not say so. I am sure you are get- 
 ting much better. I think, my dear sir, you 
 require amusement. What shall I do for 
 you ? read, or talk, or sing to you ? Do let 
 me feel that I can be of some service to 
 you," added Edith very earnestly.
 
 204 EDITH VERNON J OK, 
 
 " You shall talk to me, then, my love, and 
 our conversation will be very serious." 
 
 She drew a chair near him and composed 
 herself to attention, with a half inquiring, 
 half sorrowful look. Admiral Thornton did 
 not speak for some minutes, and when he 
 did, his manner was very sad and earnest 
 indeed. 
 
 "Edith, I should wish Lord Eernmore to 
 succeed me as your guardian." 
 
 She looked in the speaker's face and said, 
 " You are not tired of me ?" 
 
 " No, my love ! I allude to the possibility 
 of my care being ended. At my death my 
 place must be supplied." 
 
 Edith turned deadly pale, and murmured, 
 "You will not die!" — and, as the idea 
 strengthened in her mind, she placed her 
 hands before her face and sobbed in unre- 
 strained emotion. 
 
 " Edith dearest," said her guardian firmly
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 205 
 
 and mildly, " I must have a definite answer. 
 Do yon object to Lord Fernmore ?" 
 
 " No," was the only word she could utter, 
 and the tears found their way through the 
 slender fingers that were pressed against her 
 eyes. 
 
 " There is no one whose services you would 
 choose in preference to his lordship's ?" 
 
 " No one." 
 
 And the words were spoken in a tone so 
 desolate that Admiral Thornton half regretted 
 he should have asked her opinion at all. But 
 there was no opportunity for further question: 
 Edith had rushed from the room. 
 
 A note was despatched to Eedsay. The 
 contents were the following: — 
 " My dear Lord, 
 
 "Miss Yernon expressed her 
 assent to the proposal I made her of receiving 
 you for her guardian. The other point I had 
 no opportunity of introducing. You have
 
 206 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 my warmest wishes for your success ; and I 
 remain 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 "H. Thornton." 
 
 Miss Yernon wandered forth into the cool 
 air. She composed herself — she dried her 
 tears'; and, but that her brow was pale, no 
 trace remained of her emotion. " I am weak, 
 sinfully weak," was her reflection, " to be 
 thus wretched at the very mention of afflic- 
 tion. It must be that I shall see, one 
 by one, the loss of all those I loved ; and 
 when each friend has left me — when I have 
 found the hollo wness of every tie formed here 
 — I shall be better prepared to die myself. I 
 will learn this lesson beforehand; and when the 
 blow comes, it shall not find me unprepared, 
 as other troubles have done." 
 
 Thus she resolved ; and Edith was not in- 
 firm of purpose. The first intimation of a 
 fresh affliction had overcome her ; but after-
 
 CONTRASTS OP CHARACTER. 207 
 
 wards she compelled herself to look steadily 
 at the future. She felt that it would be a path of 
 sorrow. " It will end in my being left alone." 
 
 She met her guardian with all her usual 
 warmth of manner. Her tenderness seemed 
 increased. She dwelt on his every look and 
 expression, as a something very dear to her, 
 and which she was about to lose ; and 
 though, when she stole a glance at him, there 
 was a quiver of the lip and a contraction of 
 brow, still there was no return of the pas- 
 sionate emotion that had first arisen. 
 
 Thus passed the next fortnight ; and Ad- 
 miral Thornton remained an invalid, though 
 not actually ill. Edith began to hope that 
 the gout and its long list of dreaded conse- 
 quences had passed away. But it was not 
 so. Symptoms of a serious nature had shown 
 themselves. The physician from Eosbrook 
 thought the case a dangerous one ; and all 
 the fears of Edith returned anew.
 
 208 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 Lady Charlotte loved her husband as much 
 as she was capable of loving anything. She 
 felt there was a habit of seeing and hearing 
 Admiral Thornton bustle through all his 
 duties ; and if he were gone, she would have 
 missed, almost regretted, the energy of mind, 
 the warmth of affection, that contrasted so 
 forcibly with her own apathetic character and 
 habits. She was convinced of the ability of 
 the Fosbrook medical man. She believed in all 
 the advice he had ever given her. Yes; 
 though often he had discovered what no one 
 else, not even herself, had been ever able to 
 do — viz., " her sufferings/' 
 
 Therefore, when Dr. Grant declared that 
 Admiral Thornton was in danger, she felt 
 greatly discomposed, and really regretted her 
 own inability to offer assistance or counsel. So 
 she quietly made up her mind that she could 
 not herself attend on the invalid, she should 
 only be in the way ; but every half-hour she
 
 CONTEASTS OF CHARACTER. 209 
 
 despatched her maid to ascertain how Admiral 
 Thornton was ; and' four times a-day did Lady- 
 Charlotte pay the sick chamber a personal 
 visit. And Edith considered this, from one 
 so cold and inactive, a proof of especial regard. 
 But it was Miss Yernon who watched and 
 tended her old friend with a patient fondness 
 that seemed inexhaustible. 
 
 Admiral Thornton had not yet proposed to 
 her consideration Lord Fernmore's profession 
 of love and admiration ; and he felt that he 
 owed it to his friend and to Edith to intro- 
 duce the subject while strength was left him. 
 "My love," said he,' " worldly schemes seem 
 ill suited to the bed of death ; but I must 
 fulfil the promise I made LordFernmore some 
 time since, of informing you of his devoted 
 attachment to you. Edith, can you marry 
 Lord Femmore ?" 
 
 " Never ! Oh ! do not, for an instant, leave 
 such an impression on his mind. Never, never!" 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 210 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 " Edith dearest, I must plead his cause. 
 You cannot dislike so kind a friend ? When 
 I am gone, you and Lady Charlotte will be 
 ill suited to each other. As a return for your 
 love and care, I would wish to promote your 
 happiness." Then the idea flashed on the 
 mind of Admiral Thornton that her affections 
 might be engaged, and he inquired if she had 
 already any preference — if there was any 
 one to whom she was dear ? " It is your 
 welfare alone I would consult, and I cannot 
 suppose you happy, liying alone with Lady 
 Charlotte. Answer my question, Edith." 
 
 1 ' Oh, no ! I know no one to whom my fate 
 is an object of interest — no one who loves me ; 
 but do not urge this plan. I can bear loneli- 
 ness — I can live contentedly with Lady 
 Charlotte — anything but that marriage." 
 
 The words burst from her lips as if by a 
 violent effort, and she entreated her guardian 
 not to return to the subject.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 211 
 
 " Edith, when I am gone, yon will recol- 
 lect my last expressed wish was, that yon 
 wonld not dismiss this subject from your 
 thoughts. My last request will have some 
 weight. I have done my duty to Lord Fern- 
 more and yourself, by making you acquainted 
 with his feelings. My best wishes and 
 prayers are for your happiness, my poor 
 child." 
 
 And once again, before the last great 
 change had taken place, when Edith had 
 moistened his parched lip, and endeavoured 
 to soothe his agony, he faintly thanked her, 
 and murmured the word " Eemember ! " His 
 eyes were closed, and he could not observe 
 the sickening expression that passed over her 
 face and blanched her lip as he spoke. 
 
 "Why was he appointed my guardian? 
 Would I had known this ! " was Edith's 
 thought. 
 
 But, alas ! the question must remain un-
 
 212 EDITH VERNON ) OB, 
 
 answered, for before the morning came, the 
 kind old man had breathed his last ! 
 
 An event of this kind is soon spread far and 
 wide by the public papers ; and thus the news 
 reached Downton Park on the fourth evening, 
 where it was read by Charlie Trevor. 
 
 "Mamma, I wonder if I shall ever see 
 Edith Vernon- again," said Charlie the next 
 morning, " I wonder if I ever shall ! You 
 cannot think how I liked her ; I have not 
 forgotten her in the least." 
 
 "Miss Vernon was very kind to you, 
 Charlie; I think you were a favourite of 
 hers." 
 
 " Yes ; but not such a favourite as John, 
 I am sure of that. Do you think John re- 
 collects her, mamma? I wonder he never 
 asks about her in his letters." 
 
 " You know, my love, we have only re- 
 ceived two letters from him for more than a 
 twelvemonth ; the first was on business, and 
 the last one very short."
 
 CONTEASTS OF CHARACTER. 213 
 
 " True, mamma; but then he could have 
 Inquired twice. Do you know I thought of 
 Miss Yernon all last night." 
 
 Mrs. Trevor looked up from her work; 
 she fancied the boy must be bewitched. 
 
 " And why all last night, Charlie ? You 
 are a very strange child." 
 
 " Because I saw in the newspaper that 
 Admiral Thornton was dead, and I thought 
 perhaps Miss Yernon would come again and 
 live near us.' ? 
 
 "Admiral Thornton dead!" said Mrs. 
 Trevor, putting off her spectacles. " "Why 
 did you not tell me last night?" She was 
 vexed that the intelligence had been con- 
 cealed from her for so many hours. 
 
 " Because, mamma, you told me it was 
 time to go to bed ; and it was not quite my 
 time, you know." 
 
 "Poor Edith ! how soon she loses all her 
 friends!" And good-natured Mrs. Trevor 
 felt quite grieved.
 
 214 EDITH VERNON J OE, 
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 "No longer she wept, her tears were all spent, 
 Despair it was come, and she thought it content ; 
 She thought it content, but her cheek it grew pale, 
 And she looked like a lily borne down by the hail." 
 
 Maeino Falieeo. 
 
 Miss Vernon was alone in her boudoir, 
 her embroidery -frame placed before her, the 
 needle suspended between the fingers, the 
 whole figure showing a perfect pause to have 
 taken place in its actions, and more resem- 
 bling the enchantments one reads of in an 
 eastern tale, where each individual is sud- 
 denly arrested in the midst of his usual occu- 
 pations. The finishing shade had to be given
 
 CONTEASTS OF CHARACTER. 215 
 
 to the rose-bud, whose delicate petals seemed 
 tinder her hands to have rivalled nature, and 
 this last stitch was all that was wanting; 
 but Edith's eyes were bent on the open win- 
 dow ; and though the view from thence was 
 over hill and dale, still that deep, earnest 
 look seemed, in its sad and fixed gaze, to 
 pierce far beyond the hills that bounded the 
 horizon. She was looking down the vale of 
 time, not of distance ; and who can prescribe 
 limits to that mental gaze ? A slight knock 
 at the door twice repeated aroused her from 
 her musings. 
 
 " Lord Eernmore is in the drawing-room, 
 Miss Vernon," was the information that 
 greeted her. This was her first meeting 
 since her guardian's death; and since she 
 had become aware that she was loved by 
 Lord Fernmore, a feeling and a look of con- 
 sciousness passed for one instant over her 
 pale face, but, mastered by stronger and
 
 216 EDITH VERNON J OR. 
 
 more overwhelming emotions, it passed 
 away — 
 
 "Like waves that from the shore, 
 One minute swell, are touched with light, 
 Then lost for evermore." 
 
 Lord Fernmore rose to greet her as she 
 entered the room and quietly gave him her 
 hand. 
 
 "I fear, Miss Vernon, yon are quite unwell." 
 
 "I am quite well, thank you. I must 
 express to your lordship my sense of your 
 kindness in paying so early a visit to the 
 house of mourning." 
 
 "I could not forget, Miss Vernon, that 
 you were in sorrow ; deeply do I wish that 
 any effort of mine could relieve you of any 
 portion of it. I can feel with you, though 
 not instead of you." 
 
 "lam sure you would," said Edith, as 
 she met the kind, open countenance of Lord 
 Fernmore. " I rely on your friendship for
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 217 
 
 me as well as on that you felt towards my 
 kindest, best of friends." 
 
 There was an emphasis on the word friend- 
 ship that his lordship quite understood ; he 
 had tact enough to perceive that now, at all 
 events, he must only supply the place of 
 Admiral Thornton ; and, added to the polish 
 of good society, Lord Fernmore possessed 
 that politeness of the heart which teaches 
 those who have it at once to put others at 
 ease — a power arising not only from certain 
 conventional forms, but from an intuitive 
 sense of feeling. 
 
 In this instance he adverted to his office 
 of guardian, professed his wish of following 
 Miss Vernon's plans and seconding her 
 views, and concluded with the hope that he 
 should as far as possible supply the place 
 of him who was gone. 
 
 The young orphan thanked him gratefully 
 and affectionately, and he rose to take his
 
 218 EDITH VERNON ; OE, 
 
 leave, after having desired his compliments 
 to Lady Charlotte, and his best wishes for 
 his ward. 
 
 Lord Fernmore was no Machiavel; but, in 
 this instance, a perception of what was due 
 to Edith's feelings served him better than a 
 scheming policy. His parental manner had 
 soothed her, and she looked forward with 
 unfeigned pleasure to the friendly visits of 
 her guardian, when she would have recoiled 
 with disgust from those of an acknowledged 
 lover. She soon began to hope that Admiral 
 Thornton had been mistaken in supposing 
 that any warmer feeling than affectionate 
 regard had taken possession of Lord Fern- 
 more ; and this idea was her consolation. 
 Nor did she for many weeks find the society 
 of Lady Charlotte irksome or unbearable; 
 and Edith felt a sort of passive endurance, 
 that suited best with the quiet and silence of 
 Fernhill and its mistress.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 219 
 
 Miss Vernon appeared stunned by this last 
 affliction ; her energies were palsied by the 
 event, and a talkative or busily anxious 
 friend would at that moment have been far 
 more irksome than the cold apathy of Lady 
 Charlotte Thornton. Edith read and worked, 
 smiled not, and seldom spoke. Conversation 
 there was none, except when Lord Fernmore 
 paid his welcome visit ; and this state of re- 
 pose did much to restore the spirits of the 
 young heiress. No irritable feeling was 
 called into action, and time worked silently 
 and securely. 
 
 " I wonder that Admiral Thornton should 
 have supposed this quiet mode of living not 
 suited to my taste." 
 
 Such was her reflection, and in company 
 with this thought was the idea of her mar- 
 riage with his friend. 
 
 " It could not be ; I am well contented^ 
 and that is all he would have desired."
 
 220 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 But, after the lapse of three or four months, 
 Edith began gradually to recover something 
 of her former cheerfulness ; and when spring 
 had fairly unlocked the treasures that had 
 been shut up from winter's chill touch, you 
 might again have heard her light step and 
 clear voice calling to her dog to follow in 
 many a long ramble, and sometimes a soft 
 laugh, as some unlooked-for feat of the little 
 animal called forth her admiration and mirth. 
 It was then that the anticipations of her old 
 friend were fulfilled. It was when her 
 questions were answered by a cold affirmative 
 — when her attempts at condolence or kind- 
 ness were returned with a something that 
 almost proved dislike — when her returning 
 animation was checked by an almost conta- 
 gious apathy — when all allusions to the past, 
 all reference to him who was gone, received 
 cold surprise or an appearance of forgetful- 
 ness.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 221 
 
 Lady Charlotte did, perhaps, dislike Edith 
 as much as her indolent temper was capable. 
 This was shown at first by silence; bntwhen 
 a returning energy on the part of the orphan 
 called for some more active display of her 
 feelings, they were proved by the manner in 
 which all attempts at cordiality were met. If 
 Edith expressed a preference on the most 
 trifling subject, Lady Charlotte said nothing ; 
 but Miss Yernon could not but remark that 
 something else was sure to be done ; and this 
 spirit of opposition was manifested on all oc- 
 casions. 
 
 One evening the two ladies were sitting 
 together, Lady Charlotte looking over and 
 destroying a pile of letters that were placed 
 before her. They had been found in Ad- 
 miral Thornton's secretaire, and Edith felt 
 that they should have been destroyed, not 
 read. Edith was cutting out some little odd 
 frocks and caps for one of her poor pen-
 
 222 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 sioners ; and as the baby-clothes were ar- 
 ranged in due form, she smiled at the little 
 conceits they seemed. Her attention was 
 aroused by an unusual exclamation from Lady 
 Charlotte — the tone expressed both surprise 
 and pity, and the words, " Admiral Thornton 
 tuas an extraordinary man! " burst from her 
 lips as if by a strong effort. 
 
 " He was," said Edith, with deep feeling ; 
 " and kind and good." 
 
 " Ah !" replied Lady Charlotte (her young 
 friend's tone of affectionate remembrance had 
 chilled her), " he once walked fifteen miles 
 before breakfast !" 
 
 Edith was too well-bred to smile ; but the 
 characteristic expression was irresistible, and 
 she left the room uncertain whether to laugh 
 or cry. Her reflection was, " This life is in- 
 supportable. He was right." 
 
 The conviction, once admitted, gained 
 strength. Lord Fernmore could not but re-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 223 
 
 mark the flush of pleasure his visits called 
 up, and the regret that could not be concealed 
 when he took his leave. He noticed, too, 
 the dislike more implied than expressed to- 
 wards Lady Charlotte, and that seemed to 
 escape Edith unintentionally; the cold po- 
 liteness of Miss Yernon to Lady Charlotte, 
 and the studied indifference of the latter. 
 Lord Fernmore felt that the self-dependent 
 mind of his ward could never rest on the 
 supine energies of Lady Charlotte ; that she 
 found her own pursuits, her own pleasures ; 
 and that, in every sense of the word, she was 
 independent. "I grieve for her," was his 
 lordship's reflection. " Her temper will be 
 spoiled, her affections chilled, by the ill-timed 
 coldness of her companion. Perhaps now she 
 would listen more favourably to my declara- 
 tion of love." 
 
 The next time they met, Edith's brow was 
 more clouded at his arrival, and brightened
 
 224 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 more than ever when he proposed they should 
 take a ride together. 
 
 " Most willingly, my lord. A canter may 
 dispel my gloom. Yon mnst forgive a stupid 
 companion." 
 
 " I do not fear that, Miss Vernon. I know 
 of old your powers as a companion." 
 
 Edith left the room to prepare for her ride, 
 and Lady Charlotte said, "I think Miss Ver- 
 non finds me a dull person ; at least, she 
 never endeavours to amuse or please me." 
 
 " Indeed !" was the reply. 
 
 " I believe people generally consider her 
 clever; now I do not. She is very fatiguing. 
 I admire repose of character. I think Ad- 
 miral Thornton indulged her dreadfully." 
 
 " You must not expect so young a person 
 to be as perfect as an older one." This mild 
 remark, which implied a compliment to the 
 elder lady, was received well, and Lady 
 Charlotte acknowledged, with the tone of a
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 225 
 
 martyr, " That she did not expect perfec- 
 tion." 
 
 The horses were at the door. Edith 
 mounted her Arabian, and, thanking Lord 
 Fernmore for his skill in those petits soins, 
 they proceeded on their way. 
 
 " I should wish to be completely tired out, 
 so that when I return I may be too stupid to 
 feel the want of conversation. I often envy 
 the opium-eater." 
 
 " Say not so, Miss Vernon ; the pleasures 
 of an active mind and vigorous intellect are 
 scarcely dependent on the opposite qualities 
 of those we live with. Your favourite, Mil- 
 ton, says, 
 
 u c The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven ; ' 
 
 and Pernhill either in misery or happiness 
 can be compared to neither." 
 
 " That is one cause of ' my complaint ; I 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 feel the stagnation — it seems to me more 
 wearing than active suffering. I try to bring 
 my thoughts and actions to a stand-still, and 
 the effort seems too much. I know how 
 wicked it is to desire a change, and yet I 
 sometimes half wish for some trial that could 
 arouse me." 
 
 " Oh, wish not for evil days, Miss Yernon, 
 they come soon enough. You will think 
 me too matter-of-fact when I say, that this, 
 perhaps, though irksome, is good for you. 
 Still, I am not so unfeeling, so common- 
 place, but that I desire some change for you. 
 Your happiness. Miss Vernon, is dearer to 
 me than my own ; in offering you my love, 
 my devotion, I should wish you to consider 
 well if my affection, my home, will be more 
 welcome to you than the dreariness of Fern- 
 hill. I have loved you entirely, you only — 
 but I am well aware that it is the love of a 
 man many years older than yourself — I do
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 227 
 
 not ask for a passionate return — I wish the 
 privilege of devoting myself to yon, of shel- 
 tering yon from sorrow and disappointment, 
 from nnkindness and indifference." 
 
 "I feel it all, Lord Fernmore — the gene- 
 rous kindness that has prompted yon : I will 
 endeavour to repay it. I fervently wish I 
 may be to you all you desire, all your noble- 
 ness deserves." 
 
 Edith Vernon heard Lord Fernmore's 
 expressions of delight and gratitude; she 
 heard them conclude with the sentence, 
 " My own Edith !" She had passed into the 
 hands of another — her own words had se- 
 vered the last frail link that bound her to 
 Morton ! 
 
 The remainder of the ride was passed in 
 silence. Lord Fernmore lifted her from her 
 horse, and, as he kissed her hand at parting, 
 he said, " he should see her on the morrow." 
 
 " Thank you, my lord."
 
 228 EDITH yeenon; or, 
 
 And so they parted. Edith entered Lady- 
 Charlotte's morning room. " "Will yon ex- 
 cuse my not joining yon at dinner, my dear 
 madam ? I have a distracting headache, and 
 need rest." 
 
 "You are at liberty to follow your own in- 
 clinations, Miss Vernon." 
 
 " Thank you ; I will make my adieus for 
 the evening now." 
 
 She gave her hand as usual, and, as the 
 cold fingers just touched hers, the young or- 
 phan felt one emotion of pleasure at the idea 
 of soon leaving such a cold welcome, and 
 sharing the kindness of Lord Fernmore. 
 The succeeding hours were spent in bitterness. 
 
 Lord Fernmore returned on the following 
 day. Edith met him with a smile ; her 
 manner was grave, even to sadness ; but her 
 noble lover appreciated the depth of feeling 
 that had sobered her, and he leant more per- 
 fectly on the hope of future happiness, when
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 229 
 
 it was placed in the hands of one who could 
 feel the responsibilities of the duties she had 
 taken upon her to fulfil. 
 
 " I must request you, Lord Fernmore, to 
 announce to Lady Charlotte the preference 
 you have expressed for me" — she hesitated, 
 for she felt that some warmer expression was 
 due to the subject — tl my sense of the happi- 
 ness you have placed within my reach." 
 
 Lord Fernmore promised that that should 
 be his first business. "Even now I feel 
 Lady Charlotte should be aware of my hap- 
 piness, and have the pleasure of offering her 
 congratulations." 
 
 Edith said she would inquire of Lady 
 Charlotte if she could receive Lord Fern- 
 more ; and she was about to leave the room, 
 but, as if some thought had struck her, she 
 returned, and giving Lord Fernmore her 
 hand, she said, " You will not ask to see 
 me again."
 
 230 EDITH VERNON ; OK, 
 
 He pressed to his lips the cold hand that 
 lay so passively within his own, and Edith, 
 repeating her adiens with ninch warmth, 
 left the room, and despatched her servant to 
 ascertain the state of Lady Charlotte, and to 
 carry the result to his lordship. 
 
 Edith Vernon's reflection was, "Am I 
 not deceiving myself?" then followed the 
 more painful question, u And still more de- 
 ceiving him ?" 
 
 She endeavoured to stifle all self-upbraid- 
 ings with the idea, that she was " not re- 
 quired to bestow on Lord Fernmore any feel- 
 ing more passionate than affectionate esteem; 
 indeed, he did not ask me to love him, but 
 only to allow him to love me, and that I can 
 do : " but the hollo wness of such a theory 
 soon struck her, and she half resolved to 
 confide all her story to Lord Fernmore, and 
 then throw herself on his goodness. 
 
 In the evening, Lady Charlotte mentioned
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 231 
 
 Lord Fernmore's visit, and the information 
 he had given her : "I have nothing now to 
 do but to salute the future Countess." She 
 bent her head, partly in derision, and partly 
 in pique. 
 
 Edith only replied very calmly, " Have 
 you not one word of present kindness, or a 
 wish for the future welfare of your young 
 friend ?" 
 
 " Of course you will be happy, Miss Ver- 
 non." 
 
 Lady Charlotte imagined that such an 
 alliance must cause happiness. She was too 
 commonplace to feel that it might be only 
 an exchange from a more dispiriting lot. 
 The power and the inclination of some per- 
 sons to inflict a wound, and this, too, with- 
 out talent or aim, is often great. The ran- 
 dom shot sped from the weak or silly indi- 
 vidual whom we perhaps view with utter 
 indifference, causes a smart that is painfully
 
 232 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 felt. So it was in the present instance. After 
 a few minutes' silence, Lady Charlotte said, 
 " I thought, Miss Vernon, I had heard some 
 where or other of your being engaged." 
 
 Edith knew that this speech was inten- 
 tional, and she replied with firmness and 
 spirit, "No, Lady Charlotte, in that case 
 you would not have been troubled with his 
 lordship's communication of this morning ;" 
 and a feeling of gratulation crossed her 
 mind as she ejaculated mentally, " This will 
 not last for ever." 
 
 Her spirit of indecision lasted many weeks. 
 A resolve formed at one time to cancel her 
 engagement with Lord Fernmore — and this 
 succeeded by a burst of thankfulness that 
 Fernhill would soon cease to be her home> 
 and Lady Charlotte her companion and cha- 
 perone — and this alternation of feeling lasted 
 till the time had passed for any explanation 
 or change.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 233 
 
 "In a fortnight, Miss Yernon, I shall 
 leave Shropshire for Grosyenor Street ; I 
 presume my arrangements will suit yours." 
 
 " Perfectly, thank you." 
 
 "When she next met Lord Fernmore, she 
 informed him of their early departure for 
 London. 
 
 " And I shall join you there, Edith ; and 
 I trust you will return no more to Fernhill 
 but with a husband's love to shield you from 
 unkindness. When will you arrive in town? 
 I shall soon expect you. I should wish to 
 be in Park Lane the same day as that on 
 which you will arrive in Grosvenor Street. I 
 shall have many arrangements to complete, 
 and, when my duties are completed, you will 
 not delay our marriage." 
 
 "I will not." 
 
 One glance at the past, and Miss Yernon 
 resolved henceforth to strive earnestly to fulfil 
 her duty. " I know this," said she, " that
 
 234 EDITH VERNON; OR, 
 
 we have power over our thoughts as well as 
 actions ; and mine shall not, if possible, over- 
 step the line of conduct I owe to Lord Fern- 
 more. This is the time for action, not for 
 idle regrets. Now my path is well defined ; 
 and if there are inequalities on its surface, I 
 see them ; and my prayer is that I may avoid 
 them." 
 
 She took a long, lingering farewell of Fern- 
 hill, one last visit to the churchyard that con- 
 tained the family vault of the Thorntons. 
 As she thought of the last expressed 
 wishes of her friend, she humbly hoped that 
 the frame of mind in which she was entering 
 on the fulfilment of those wishes might not 
 offend the glorified spirit that she believed to 
 be beyond the reach of sorrow, and that there 
 might not be impiety to ask, in her present 
 mood, a blessing on the future. 
 
 The young heiress seemed from henceforth 
 cheerful and happy, and by degrees she was
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 235 
 
 so. Kecollections that would have embittered 
 her life she thrust from her. Duties that 
 were trivial and of constant recurrence she 
 endeavoured to fulfil. She knew that seldom 
 is there a call on us for great efforts. The 
 effects of this were shown on her countenance 
 and manner. Sometimes an occasional men- 
 tion of the name of Morton — a return to the 
 place where they had last met — brought into 
 use all her self-possession and firmness ; but 
 each day made her efforts lighter, and the 
 self-discipline brought its own reward.
 
 236 EDITH VEENON ; OE, 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 " Marianna. — But previous to this marriage, had your 
 Ne'er beat for any of the noble youth, [heart 
 
 Such as in years had been more meet to match 
 Beauty like yours ; or since, have you ne'er seen 
 One who, if your fair hand were still to give, 
 Might now pretend to Loridano's daughter ? 
 
 " Angiolina. — I answered your first question when I 
 I married. [said 
 
 11 Mar. — And the second? 
 
 " Ang. — Needs no answer. 
 
 " Mar. — I pray you, pardon, if I have offended. 
 
 " Ang. — I feel no wrath, but some surprise : I knew 
 That wedded bosoms could permit themselves [not 
 
 To ponder upon what they now might choose, 
 Or aught save their past choice." 
 
 Doge of Yentce. 
 
 "When Edith Vernon met Lord Fernmore 
 in London, she was presented by him to his
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 237 
 
 only sister, Lady Marchmont. She received 
 her future sister-in-law with an affectionate 
 warmth that reassured Edith. " We shall 
 love you very much, Edith. You will be al- 
 most spoiled, I fear ; for we have neither of 
 us much more to do than to pet and indulge 
 you." 
 
 Edith assured her of her gratitude, and 
 her wish to love others as she was herself 
 beloved. 
 
 There were, too, many old and valued 
 friends of Lord Fernmore's who wished for 
 an especial introduction to Miss Yernon ; 
 and Edith felt indebted to a connection 
 which had been the means of enlarging her 
 hitherto small circle of friends. And this 
 view of the case increased her affection for 
 him whose love had thus been the harbinger 
 of friendship and regard from others. Lord 
 Fernmore, too, she remarked, was respected 
 and valued, his acquaintance was sought for,
 
 238 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 his opinion asked, his wishes consulted, and, 
 in many cases, his word was received with- 
 out comment or question, when the assever- 
 ations of many men would have been doubted. 
 Added to this his calm, dignified bearing, 
 his polished manner, and, above all, his high 
 moral worth, Edith felt convinced that hers 
 was a lot that would have been envied by 
 many ; and though she possessed a character 
 which depended as little as possible on the 
 judgment of others, still we are not, we can- 
 not become, altogether independent of the 
 opinion of those whose decision and taste are 
 considered infallible. Therefore Lord Fern- 
 more's praises came on her ear like welcome 
 music; and she could not but rejoice that 
 the so-called world approved her choice. 
 
 "Edith, love," said Lady Marchmont to 
 her one morning, "my visit is expressly to 
 tell you, you have an engagement for the 
 12th of this month ; here is an invitation to
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 239 
 
 you from Madame la Duchesse de Melan- 
 court." 
 
 " The wife of the French ambassador ? " 
 
 "Yes; and it will be a most brilliant 
 affair. You are too young to refuse an invi- 
 tation to a ball, so I shall consider it a settled 
 thing." 
 
 "I would refuse, Lady Marchmont, if 
 possible ; you cannot think how I dislike 
 these fatiguing parties." 
 
 "Nonsense, Edith; I met Lady Mary 
 Morton just now, and she was rejoicing at 
 the idea of this brilliant reunion, and seemed 
 to think an invitation one of the greatest 
 earthly privileges. You really must be seen 
 there — it is quite recherche" 
 
 "Very well, then; on the 31st I will 
 consider myself engaged to la Duchesse de 
 Melancourt. I thank you, too, for your 
 kind interest in me." 
 
 " On the 31st of this month you will dine
 
 240 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 with, the Emperor of Morocco, my love." 
 And, at the sight of Edith's look of bewil- 
 derment, Lady Marchniont added, laughing, 
 "Why, you know there are but thirty 
 days in this month ; have you forgotten the 
 old rhyme? l Thirty days hath September, 
 April, June, and November,' &c. ?" 
 
 " Excuse my inattention, I quite forgot 
 that this was April. On the 12th, I will 
 quite recollect" 
 
 And Lady Marchniont took her leave, 
 wondering what could have come " over the 
 spirit of Edith's dream." She is very singu- 
 lar, and seems so little interested by an event 
 that has set half the fashionable world on 
 the qui vive. 
 
 Miss Yemon thought, " Lady Mary Mor- 
 ton is to be there ; where is her son ? " This 
 reflection had confused her memory as to 
 dates, had made her dread the 12th of that 
 month, and she hoped he might not be there.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 241 
 
 In the middle of the following month she 
 was to be married ; and she felt that a re- 
 newal of her acquaintance with Henry Mor- 
 ton was no fit preparation for her wedding- 
 day, or for the vows she was to breathe at 
 the altar. 
 
 Her reflections were interrupted by the 
 entrance of Lord Fernmore, and he wished 
 to know if she preferred Lady Mary and 
 Lady Fanny St. Clair as bridesmaids, or the 
 two beautiful daughters of Mr. Addington. 
 
 " They are all strangers to me — I would 
 wish you to choose ; and I must also ask you 
 to request them to act as bridesmaids on 
 this occasion ; as a stranger, I cannot." 
 
 "Are you certain, Edith, you have no 
 friends of your own — no cousins, no old ac- 
 quaintances?" 
 
 " I do not know an individual of whom I 
 could make the request ; the different fami- 
 lies we visited in Devonshire were almost 
 
 vol. i. R
 
 242 EDITH VEENON J OR, 
 
 strangers, and, by this time, quite so ; and 
 my more recent acquaintances in Shropshire 
 are all equally indifferent to me. I am 
 afraid, my lord, I haye not the art of making 
 or securing friends; it does seem singular 
 to be so utterly desolate," 
 
 "You have made many warm friends, 
 though they cannot act as bridesmaids on 
 this occasion ; and do not talk now of being 
 desolate," added his lordship affectionately. 
 
 The tears filled her eyes, and she changed 
 the subject to one more general. 
 
 The 12th of April arrived, and Made- 
 moiselle Pauline arranged the toilette of Miss 
 Vernon. 
 
 Her admiration and satisfaction were evi- 
 dent as she gazed on the Brussels lace robe, 
 worn over the purest white satin ; and to her 
 inquiry of how Miss Vernon would wish her 
 hair arranged, she received the dreaded and 
 customary answer, " Without ornament."
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 243 
 
 " Ah ! c'est dommage." 
 
 But Edith did not encourage any discus- 
 sion. She remained silent while her femme 
 de chambre wound the long, soft hair round 
 the back of the head, after the fashion of some 
 Grecian model ; and then the ringlets were 
 parted on the smooth, white forehead, and the 
 whole was completed. 
 
 One row of costly pearls that a princess 
 might have worn, the fastening a diamond of 
 considerable value, completed the parure of 
 the young heiress. 
 
 Pauline inquired, half dubiously, if that were 
 all ? Edith thanked her, and she withdrew. 
 
 For some minutes she paced up and down 
 her room in deep thought. Pauline would have 
 been miserable had she imagined her young 
 mistress was so engaged ; and as her cheek 
 Hushed and a draught of air every now and 
 then waved a long curl out of its place, the 
 misery of the Frenchwoman would have in-
 
 244 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 creased. At last Edith began to lessen her 
 speed; and as she felt her burning cheek, 
 she determined to remain quite still till Lady 
 Marchmont' s carriage should be announced. 
 She walked to the mirror that was placed on 
 her dressing-table, half fearing to look at 
 herself. " Lord Fernmore will be so vexed. 
 Why did I walk so fast?" One glance re- 
 assured her. Edith Vernon was looking very 
 beautiful. " I will not think of Morton. I 
 shall not look round the room to see if he be 
 there. I shall see nothing but Lord Fern- 
 more, and two hours will be quite long 
 enough to remain." 
 
 A thundering knock at the door, Edith 
 hastened to bid Lady Charlotte " good night;" 
 and then, her adieu paid with a beating heart, 
 she entered the carriage. Lady Marchmont 
 perceived her agitation, and, after a few 
 commonplace remarks, allowed her to remain 
 in silence. 
 
 " Where is Lord Fernmore ?"
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 245 
 
 " He will join us there, Edith. "We will 
 remain near the door, and we shall observe 
 when he enters the room." 
 
 " Yes," thought Miss Vernon ; " and every- 
 one else as well ! " 
 
 Edith was presented to the Duke and 
 Duchess de Melancourt, and heard the grace- 
 ful welcome and the sprightly remark they 
 had for all, and, at that instant, Lord Fern- 
 more entered the room. Miss Yernon was 
 soon perceived by him, and she felt quite 
 glad to accept his arm and mingle in the 
 crowd. Her eyes were wandering round the 
 brilliant suite of apartments, and as figure 
 after figure passed in review before her, she 
 saw nothing that bore any resemblance to 
 Henry Morton. In proportion to her pre- 
 vious excitement was the abstraction and 
 listlessness that now crept over her, and she 
 was watching the gay scene before her quite 
 indifferent to the whole.
 
 246 EDITH VERNON ; OR 
 
 "So that is Miss Vernon," said a girlish 
 voice, somewhere near her ; " she is very 
 pretty." 
 
 "Yes," replied another voice, in the same 
 tone, " and how very young ; she looks un- 
 happy, at all events indifferent." 
 
 " Lord Fernmore is so much older ; but, 
 hush ! she will hear us." 
 
 Edith had heard them, and she turned 
 round, and fixed her bright eyes and haughty 
 gaze on the speakers ; then she made some 
 remark to Lord Fernmore, who moved on to 
 another room, and seated Edith. 
 
 " They think me unhappy ; it is unjust to 
 my future husband." Her manner had 
 changed : she addressed Lord Fernmore and 
 the circle of friends who had collected round 
 her, and the mirth of the group, the anima- 
 tion of Edith, were noticed by the two young 
 ladies who had aroused her energies. 
 
 " Lady Mary Morton wishes to become
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 247 
 
 acquainted with Miss Vernon," said Lady 
 Marchmont, and the mother of Henry Mor- 
 ton stood before her. 
 
 " "We hardly meet as strangers," said 
 Edith; " I believe it was your son who was 
 a constant visitor at my mother's." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; I have often heard him 
 mention the happy days he spent at Stone- 
 leigh ; he would have been much pleased to 
 meet you again, Miss Vernon, but he is not 
 in London." 
 
 Edith bowed her head, and felt very thank- 
 ful that the worst was over. She had said 
 more than she had supposed herself capable 
 of, and had gained the information she most 
 longed to hear. She refused all invitations 
 to dance, and remained hanging on Lord 
 Eernmore's arm, who looked as happy as 
 possible, and Edith regained all her calmness 
 and self-possession. When she reached 
 home she determined not to think of the
 
 248 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 ball. " If I once allow my thoughts to 
 wander on forbidden ground, there is an end 
 of all self-control." She read till she was 
 completely weary, and then went to her 
 room. One reflection passed her mind, and 
 was followed by a feeling of thankfulness, 
 " I have made acquaintance with Lady Mary 
 Morton, and I shall not see her son." 
 
 A fortnight passed — the wedding dress 
 had been sent home ; the wedding ring fit- 
 ted on the finger of the small hand, and to- 
 morrow, thought Edith, my very thoughts 
 will scarcely be my own. 
 
 " Good night, Lady Charlotte," said Miss 
 Vernon, as she held out her hand to the old 
 lady. " You will forgive me any wayward 
 or petulant expression that may have escaped 
 me since I have lived with you." 
 
 " I do, I do, and I wish you every happi- 
 ness and blessing, Edith." 
 
 Contrary to her wont she kissed the pale
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 249 
 
 cheek of the bride-elect, and Edith left the 
 room. 
 
 u If she had been always thus," murmured 
 Miss Vernon, "to-morrow would not see 
 me the wife of Lord Fernmore." She sum- 
 moned Pauline, who noticed the wan look of 
 her young mistress. 
 
 "Mademoiselle est souffrante?" 
 
 Edith shook her head, and she was soon 
 left to her own meditations. One trait in 
 Pauline pleased her : " She hoped that as 
 the Countess of Fernmore she would be 
 equally happy, and equally beloved as when 
 Miss Vernon." 
 
 Edith determined to look carefully over 
 her writing desk, and destroy every letter or 
 memorandum that could recall the past, and 
 one by one, as each sheet of paper was com- 
 mitted to the flame, she thought of the lines, 
 
 " Come procede innanzi dall' ardore 
 Per lo papiro suso un color bruno, 
 Che non e nero ancora, e'l bianco muore."
 
 250 EDITH VERNON J OE, 
 
 And when it had become black, and the 
 brilliant flame was succeeded by the dull 
 scorched ashes, Edith thought it an apt il- 
 lustration of a mind under the influence of 
 passion or excitement, brightened by the 
 treacherous flame that only illumines to de- 
 stroy, and when it has consumed itself, leaves 
 the mind where it has spent its ardour, 
 scorched and blackened as those crumbled 
 remains. "I hope it does not typify my 
 state," thought she, "or else I am scarce fit for 
 to-morrow's duties — I will moralise no more." 
 With one vigorous exertion she committed 
 the papers en masse to the fire, and resolutely 
 turned away, and watched their destruction 
 no longer. 
 
 And here we take leave of Edith Vernon. 
 She was greeted as the Countess of Fern- 
 more — the sentence had been pronounced 
 which had inevitably linked her future with 
 another's. An affectionate farewell from the
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 251 
 
 kind friends who had assisted at that morn- 
 ing's ceremony, she was placed in the car- 
 riage by her husband, who speedily followed, 
 the door was closed, the word was given, 
 and she was whirled away. 
 
 The honeymoon was to be spent in Che- 
 shire, at a place belonging to Lord Fernmore ; 
 it was called Boxwood, and a little fairy nook 
 it was, differing completely from Eedsay, so 
 peaceful, so complete, too, in its small way, 
 that Lady Fernmore was quite delighted 
 with it. 
 
 " How long shall we remain at Boxwood?" 
 said Edith to her husband. 
 
 " It would be foolish to begin our tour in 
 Wales till the weather be quite warm and 
 settled. Do you not agree with me, Edith?" 
 
 "Then, in the middle of May, in an- 
 other fortnight we may begin our journey. 
 I long to climb to the top of those moun- 
 tains whose outline hitherto has always
 
 252 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 seemed to defy me. In the middle of 
 May?" 
 
 "Yes, my love, if the weather be quite 
 quite mild ; I hope, Edith, you will have a 
 little consideration for those who are not 
 quite so active as yourself; your climbing 
 schemes seem quite tremendous." 
 
 " Oh, surely," said Edith, " only say you 
 are tired, and I will return with you, though 
 fire more steps would bring me to the top of 
 Snowdon. I promise that." 
 
 In her zeal for exploring the mountains of 
 Wales, the young Countess forgot that her 
 husband was seen to more advantage on 
 level ground, than in clambering up the sides 
 of hills, and diving into the recesses of dales 
 and hollows. She did not remember that he 
 was at least some five-and-twenty years older 
 than herself, and that the expedition she had 
 determined on was precisely the one to make 
 this difference apparent. In Parliament, in
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 253 
 
 his own house, or in the gay and crowded 
 saloons of London, he was seen to advantage, 
 but not where sheer activity and lightness of 
 foot were alone available, and positively ne- 
 cessary. i l Ah ! ' ' thought Edith, and a shade 
 of disappointment passed over her brow, "ah! 
 how could I be so heedless as to propose such 
 feats ? I hope Lord Fernmore does not think 
 my folly was intentional ; I will say no more 
 on the subject, he shall choose his own time 
 — I see he does not like the cold — I do hope 
 it will be a mild spring." 
 
 The fact was, Lady Fernmore wished for 
 some active employment that should call 
 forth her energy, and the pleasures of a tour 
 through Wales exactly suited her. 
 
 " I shall enjoy the beautiful scenery, and 
 that active life will bring health and strength," 
 and her idea was to have rambled about, 
 taking their chance for food and lodging, 
 meeting with all kinds of difficulties — the
 
 254 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 more the better: it will prove a stronger 
 contrast to the past and future. Lord Fern- 
 more's plan was simply this, to go as far as 
 his carriage and four horses could convey 
 him ; he had not intended to leave his car- 
 riage, except for the comforts which an inn 
 or some friend's house could afford ; the bare 
 mention of Snowdon, much less its summit, 
 had terrified him ; and, except in the ravings 
 of delirium, the gipsy schemes of his young 
 bride would have never entered his head. 
 She was completely in the minority. One 
 day, when Pauline was arranging the ward- 
 robe of Lady Fernniore, the latter gave an 
 outline of the scheme she had fixed on, di- 
 rectly the summer was a little more ad- 
 vanced ; and she detailed to the astonished 
 French waiting-maid the pleasures she was 
 to enjoy. 
 
 They raised no corresponding emotions in 
 her mind. Hunger and thirst, mountains,
 
 CONTRASTS OE CHARACTER. 255 
 
 "barbarians, brigands, and many minor evils, 
 filled the imagination of the astonished sou- 
 brette. She communicated the dismal news 
 to Monsieur Martigne, Lord Fernmore's 
 valet ; he declared the whole thing affreux, 
 and made up his mind from the first that the 
 blue outline of those hills should still defy 
 the incursions of his enterprising mistress. 
 
 Edith remained in ignorance of these re- 
 solves ; her own determination was to effect 
 her purpose, if she could do so without 
 annoying Lord Fernmore. 
 
 The 17th of May, 18 — , was as beautiful a 
 day as ever gladdened the heart of mortal 
 man ; the bright flowers springing into blos- 
 som, the nightingales had been beguiled into 
 a morning song, the air was sweet and balmy, 
 and Edith sympathised with the loveliness 
 of all around her, and added her tribute of 
 praise and admiration to the Author of the 
 sweet scene. The French windows of the
 
 256 EDITH VERNON ) OR, 
 
 breakfast-room opened on the lawns of Box- 
 wood, and she walked ont to peep among the 
 thick leaves of the violet for the little re- 
 cluses, who would fain have concealed them- 
 selves from view. One by one they were 
 plucked, and she rejoiced at the large collec- 
 tion she had made. She gave them to Lord 
 Fernmore, with a vivid description of the 
 beauty of the day and their fragrance. 
 
 " Edith, will you be ready to leave Box- 
 wood to-morrow ? we may venture now." 
 
 " Indeed I shall ; thank you for proposing 
 it." 
 
 Lord Fernmore heard nothing said on the 
 subject of the long, wearying rambles ; and 
 Edith, like a prudent wife, held her peace ; 
 for, thought she, it will be time enough to 
 think of it when at the foot of Snowdon. 
 Chance favoured her. Lord Fernmore in- 
 tended to stay a few days with an old friend 
 of his, whose house in Caernarvonshire was not
 
 CONTKASTS OF CHAKACTEK. 257 
 
 very distant from the base of that mountain 
 the beauties of which she wished to explore. 
 
 Colonel Phillips was then receiving a visit 
 from a lady and gentleman, who had the 
 same love of a scramble with Lady Fernmore. 
 They invited the young countess to join 
 them. 
 
 " They should only be absent a week, and 
 the plan was so simple, so easily arranged." 
 
 " May I go, Lord Fernmore?" inquired 
 Edith. 
 
 Her husband agreed. Pauline, poor Pau- 
 line, was desired to hold herself in readiness ; 
 and the following morning the party left 
 Colonel Phillips and his guest to amuse 
 themselves as best might be during their 
 absence. Sir Walter and Lady Tyrrel were 
 agreeable and well informed, with an admi- 
 ration for natural beauty that equalled 
 Edith's. 
 
 Ten days were they absent, scrambling 
 
 vol. i. s
 
 258 edith vernoist; OR, 
 
 here and there, sketching that view, admir- 
 ing the bold outline, now softened by the 
 mist of morning, and now bathed in glory 
 by the splendours of sunset. They went as 
 far up the mountains as was practicable, and, 
 when they returned, confessed themselves 
 pleased with nature and each other's society. 
 
 The repose of the carriage was very wel- 
 come to Edith after her severe exercise on 
 the mountains, and she was glad to have an 
 opportunity of resting. Lord Fernmore was 
 delighted with her descriptions, and her keen 
 enjoyment of the ten days ; and at the end 
 of August they arrived at Eedsay, his lord- 
 ship more in love with his young wife 
 than ever, and she determined to find good 
 in everything, and to be reconciled to her 
 lot. 
 
 " Edith, are you unhappy ?" 
 
 "Oh no ; not unhappy. "Why did you 
 ask?"
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 259 
 
 " Because you seemed so absent, and ab- 
 sorbed in such a deep reverie, that I spoke 
 twice before I made you hear me." 
 
 Lady Fernmore apologised for her inatten- 
 tion. " This must not be," was her resolve. 
 " I shall indeed lose all self-command if my 
 thoughts are thus allowed to wander." 
 
 Lord Fernmore concluded his young wife 
 required variety and a more lively circle of 
 friends at Eedsay. He acted on this idea ; 
 and on the following week he announced to 
 Edith the expected arrival of a long list of 
 fashionables. She felt the kindness that had 
 prompted him. " But, indeed, you do your- 
 self injustice to suppose that any of these 
 people could make me more lively. I think, 
 Lord Fernmore, you would succeed in so 
 doing when they would fail." 
 
 She blushed very deeply as she made this 
 declaration. As far as it went it was true ; 
 but Edith was too upright not to feel that,
 
 260 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 though it implied a compliment to Lord Fern- 
 more, and he received it as such, it really 
 meant nothing. She was painfully aware 
 that it was indifference to her visitors that 
 placed Lord Fernmore's ability to please and 
 interest her in so favourable a light, but that, 
 even as his wife, there was one other being 
 in the world that was— yes, better — loved and 
 most fondly remembered. 
 
 It was not always that Lady Fernmore's 
 feelings overcame her sense of duty. Gene- 
 rally she could struggle with her memory of 
 the past, and successfully turn away from 
 every subject that rendered her even in 
 thought a traitor to the solemn duties to 
 which she had pledged herself. But some- 
 times recollection poured over her soul like 
 a resistless torrent, and she w as overwhelmed 
 before she had time for resistance. So it had 
 been on this occasion. One sunny gleam that 
 lit up a neighbouring hill placed before
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 261 
 
 her Stoneleigh and the past. It seemed to 
 bring to her mind's eye, 
 
 " The day, the hour, the sunshine and the shade — 
 All things pertaining to that day and hour 
 Came back." 
 
 " This is dreadful ! I fail in my duty on 
 all sides. Why did I marry ? It was very 
 wrong to compromise thus my own sense of 
 right and, possibly, his happiness." And 
 then she felt a terror of any illness which 
 might cause delirium. " I should then con- 
 fess it all, and my husband could not choose 
 but hate me." 
 
 This state of excitement was always of 
 short duration ; she returned again to com- 
 posure and a more placid view of the future. 
 Still that frame of mind was not a happy one 
 which was at times liable to despondency, and 
 whose surest way to happiness was by a con- 
 stant activity and never-failing watchfulness 
 over herself.
 
 262 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 Among the guests who arrived at Eedsay 
 was one individual in whom Lady Fernmore 
 discovered talents of no common order — a 
 mind well stored with the most various in- 
 formation, and, added to this, a nice tact and 
 quick perception of what was fitting at such 
 or such a time or place. 
 
 Mr. Munro was then an artist of some emi- 
 nence, but had not acquired the celebrity of 
 after-years, when, as Sir Thomas Munro, his 
 society was sought for by the noble and 
 refined of half Europe. He had often re- 
 ceived an invitation to Eedsay ; but engage- 
 ments and unforeseen circumstances had pre- 
 vented his accepting Lord Fernmore' s invita- 
 tion till now. 
 
 Edith was delighted with his appearance 
 — the talent that was brought into play on 
 all occasions — the good sense and feeling that 
 marked his dealings with others — and the 
 respect he elicited from all. Lord Fern-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 2G3 
 
 rnore's gallery of paintings pleased him, and 
 he was delighted to find a reciprocal taste in 
 his noble hostess. 
 
 One morning, when he was engaged in 
 conversation with Lord and Lady Fernmore, 
 he requested as an especial favour that he 
 might be allowed to take her ladyship's por- 
 trait. " I think I could do it justice ; and I 
 heard you say the other morning that you 
 never had sat for your picture." 
 
 Lord Fernmore acknowledged the truth of 
 this, and regretted that he could not prevail 
 on Lady Fernmore to give him her likeness, 
 and added that if, on the present instance, 
 she would consent to do so, he should feel 
 indebted to Mr. Munro for his proposition. 
 
 Edith said that if it would please her hus- 
 band, she would raise no objection. " I hope, 
 Mr. Munro, that my want of patience will not 
 quite weary you. I will endeavour to forget that 
 all my looks are being committed to canvas.' 5
 
 264 EDITH VERNOX ; OE, 
 
 " "Will you give me your first sitting to- 
 morrow, Lady Fernmore ? I am anxious to 
 begin, because often my professional engage- 
 ments hurry me." 
 
 Edith said that she would " be ready when 
 called for ;" and, thanking Mr. Munro for his 
 offer, she took Lord Fernmore's arm and left 
 the room. 
 
 The young artist looked forward with posi- 
 tive pleasure to his occupation. It was not 
 the extreme beauty of the features individu- 
 ally that had arrested his observation, but 
 the varied expression — the bright look of in- 
 telligence — the witchery of the sweet smile. 
 u I hope I shall do justice to all this," thought 
 Mr. Munro. " It ought to be a very beauti- 
 ful painting." He determined to watch the 
 countenance and manner more intently. In 
 this way, character as well as countenance 
 became familiar to him; and the result of his 
 watchings was, that Lady Fernmore was a
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 265 
 
 being for whom it was impossible not to feel 
 great interest and pity. One only, amongst 
 the large party assembled at Eedsay, looked 
 beneath the surface, and thought of her as 
 anything but an object of envy. 
 
 Music, or some cheerful French game, or 
 dancing, occupied the evenings at Eedsay. 
 All were at liberty to do as they pleased, and 
 a complete freedom from restraint marked 
 Lady Fernmore's manner to others, and ren- 
 dered them also at their ease. Lady Fern- 
 more had been requested to sing. She had 
 complied with the request, and had chosen a 
 plaintive air by Mozart. On rising from the 
 piano, she asked Mr. Munro to supply her 
 place. A Spanish melody, that suited well 
 with his rich mellow voice and finished 
 style, was his selection ; and he accompanied 
 himself on the guitar. He then turned over 
 some loose music which lay scattered before 
 him, and, having placed a manuscript on the
 
 266 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 music desk, he approached Edith with a 
 request that she would oblige him by taking 
 a part in that duet. 
 
 "I am almost afraid to promise you, Mr. 
 Munro. Have I ever heard it or sung it 
 before ? It must be very easy indeed to 
 enable me to sing it at first sight." 
 
 Lady Fernmore good-naturedly walked 
 to the piano, and Mr. Munro repeated the 
 first verse of Lord Byron's well-known 
 lines, beginning 
 
 " One struggle more and I am free 
 
 From pangs that rend my heart in twain ; 
 One last long sigh to love and thee, 
 Then back to busy life again." 
 
 Edith did not even look at the music, but 
 said in a tone of sorrowful emphasis, 
 " Indeed, I could not sing that." 
 " I understand it all,'' thought the quick- 
 sighted Mr. Munro, and did not press the 
 matter further.
 
 CONTRASTS OP CHARACTER. 267 
 
 Other amusements followed ; and when 
 refreshments were announced, an exclama- 
 tion of disappointment followed, so mirthful 
 was the party, so quickly had those hours 
 sped away, to join those " beyond the flood." 
 
 Three weeks passed, and Mr. Munro alone 
 remained of all the party that had assembled 
 at Eedsay. Morning after morning had 
 Lady Fernmore given a sitting to the 
 painter, and still the portrait was not com- 
 pleted. At last he confessed the difiiculty 
 of the undertaking. 
 
 "Lady Fernmore, I am almost disheart- 
 ened ; each succeeding day have I to alter 
 my likeness, to catch the expression of the 
 moment. Sometimes, indeed, during one 
 hour the change is so great, I am quite 
 puzzled." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Munro, you will understand 
 that my inherent dislike to have my portrait 
 taken is founded on something more sub-
 
 268 edith yernon; or, 
 
 stantial than mere prejudice. I feared this, 
 too, would end in disappointment." 
 
 The artist looked up at the peculiar em- 
 phasis laid on the words "this, too," and re- 
 marked, " that where a disappointment had 
 been caused unintentionally, it was of no 
 consequence." 
 
 "I cannot agree with you, Mr. Munro. 
 In this instance it is so ; but I believe that 
 some of our deepest wounds are unintention- 
 ally caused by others." 
 
 " That is it, exactly. Thank you, Lady 
 Eernmore. It was that expression I wished 
 for, and my theory caused it exactly. And 
 now allow me to say that I agree with you." 
 
 Lady Fernmore was partly amused, and 
 partly annoyed, by the device of Mr. Munro. 
 "I seem to be a sort of puppet in your 
 hands." 
 
 " Oh, no ! do not suppose I intended any- 
 thing of the kind; but I knew that argu-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 269 
 
 ment would bring that peculiar expression 
 that I wished to convey to the canvas. You 
 must forgive the means in consideration of 
 the end. And now I must ask your opinion 
 of the whole.' 7 
 
 "I am afraid it is flattered, Mr. Munro. 
 I think it, though, a very beautiful painting, 
 and I only hope Lord Fernmore will be 
 pleased. I assure you I am." 
 
 In the following month, Lord and Lady 
 Fernmore returned to London for a short 
 time. Parliament met ; and that reason 
 was all-powerful with his Lordship. And 
 Edith, she received attentions and adulation 
 that would have turned many a wiser head. 
 
 Her arrangements were singular ; her in- 
 difference to this or that prevailing fashion 
 extreme ; her rule of right she never re- 
 laxed. Then, too, her talents, her observa- 
 tion, her powers of pleasing, her very whim- 
 sicalities and occasional haughtiness shown
 
 270 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 only to those who were themselves pre- 
 suming — all this, added to the wealth, rank, 
 and station of her husband, placed her in 
 trying circumstances, namely, those result- 
 ing from the applause of the multitude. 
 Then, too, her devotion to Lord Fernmore ; 
 it seemed a thing scarcely credible that one 
 so young, so gifted, should have married 
 from inclination a man so much older than 
 herself ; but when her affectionate attention 
 to his slightest wish was remarked, the world 
 felt amazed, and half began to suppose that 
 she did love him. 
 
 Edith was unmoved by all. Scarce one 
 amongst that dense throng had claimed the 
 slightest regard from her ; she moved amidst 
 it all, marking the hollowness of professions, 
 the gilded fetters, the worn and saddened 
 spirits that went onwards with a smile for all. 
 A distant murmur of the repinings and dis- 
 contents of the most envied sometimes
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 271 
 
 reached her ear, and she turned from all 
 with apathy, if not dislike. 
 
 u All this have I observed from so vague 
 a glance : I could not bear a more intimate 
 acquaintance." 
 
 But Lady Fernmore in that instance 
 judged erroneously. A nearer view might, 
 in some cases, have fulfilled her predictions ; 
 but there are many warm hearts, many 
 •strong, vigorous intellects, that the polish 
 of fashionable manners, the frivolities of 
 high life, have been unable to destroy. 
 However, in this instance, the world acted 
 like a spoiled child. In proportion to Edith's 
 indifference, so increased the wish of making 
 her acquaintance, of being named as " a 
 friend of Lady Fernmore's." Her popularity 
 pleased her husband, and did not spoil her. 
 
 " Are you going to Lady Glencross's to- 
 morrow?" inquired Lady Eernmore of her 
 husband.
 
 272 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 " Yes, Edith, but I shall be detained till 
 late in the evening in the Honse. Lady 
 Marchniont will chaperone you, and I shall 
 join you as soon as possible." 
 
 Lady Glencross's rooms were crowded ; 
 the music was excellent, the dancing kept 
 up with spirit, the apartments decorated 
 with a profusion of exotics, and Edith felt a 
 degree of quiet enjoyment. Presently Lord 
 Eernmore approached his wife, and he was 
 accompanied by a gentleman who Edith 
 on first perceiving felt convinced was Mor- 
 ton — the same tail figure, antique cast of 
 features, and dark, clustering hair ; but on a 
 nearer view she perceived she was mistaken. 
 Yet she felt already prepossessed in favour 
 of the stranger, and when Lord Eernmore 
 presented him as his valued friend Lord 
 Eitzallan, Edith's brightest welcome and 
 most brilliant smile were bestowed on him. 
 She entered into conversation, which soon
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 273 
 
 became spirited and interesting, and every 
 now and then an intonation of the voice 
 and a peculiar emphasis reminded her of 
 Henry Morton. For the first time for many 
 months Lady Fernmore enjoyed the society 
 of a stranger; and when her husband ex- 
 pressed a hope that his friend should be a 
 constant visitor at Fernmore House, Edith, 
 in her own simple manner, echoed the wish. 
 A vain man might have supposed the young 
 Countess completely fascinated, as the desire 
 was so cordially expressed of enjoying the 
 society of Lord Fitzallan ; but he was not 
 vain, and he understood that a woman may 
 be pleased without a thought beyond. He 
 therefore declared the pleasure he should 
 have in renewing his friendship with Lord 
 Fernmore and her ladyship. In society 
 Edith was seldom unaccompanied by her 
 new acquaintance ; and if he was not with 
 her on entering the room, he was sure soon 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 to follow and join her. Then the animated 
 manner, the sparkling wit, and merry tones 
 of the voice, which told of other and happier 
 days, showed how completely " a change 
 had come over the spirit of her dream.' ' 
 Not only was it that she was pleased to find 
 a sensible and thoughtful mind amid the 
 throng of fashion and folly, but impercepti- 
 bly to herself it was a matter of constant 
 interest to be ever reminded, when in Lord 
 Fitzallan's society, of one who, although 
 absent, was not forgotten, in spite of their 
 last meeting of mutual constraint, marked 
 by a coldness of manner on either side which 
 was only assumed to conceal the depth of 
 their emotions. Thus ready are we to play 
 the hypocrite even with our best affections. 
 
 This intimacy of Edith with his young 
 friend seemed to afford much satisfaction 
 to her husband, who rejoiced to see the in- 
 creased animation and cheerfulness of her
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 275 
 
 manner. Lord Fitzallan had distinguished 
 himself at the University, and had now just 
 made a favourable entrance into life, for he 
 was a man who thought deeply on every 
 subject which came before him, and had a 
 full sense of the responsibility attaching to a 
 seat in Parliament. Thus, when he had 
 spoken, he had not only shown evidence of 
 a full acquaintance with the matter under 
 debate, but also of a sincere and earnest de- 
 sire to do right, to take the side which his 
 convictions rather than mere party politics 
 suggested. Young as he was, he had been 
 long engaged to be married. His bride 
 elect was on the continent ; indeed, he had 
 only lately left her in Italy in order that he 
 might be present at the opening of the ses- 
 sion, having been selected by the Minister 
 to move the Address in the House of Lords 
 consequent on the Sovereign's speech. 
 
 He was one day calling at Fernmore House,
 
 276 EDITH VERNON J OR, 
 
 and brought his little nephew with him, a 
 child of five years old, the son of his elder 
 sister, who had married an officer in the 
 army, and then serving in Canada. Edith 
 was delighted with this new companion, and 
 entered into the spirit of his boisterous glee, 
 as she encouraged him in romping with her 
 spaniel, which was a favourite she had 
 brought from Femhill. Meanwhile, the two 
 gentlemen were eagerly discussing some 
 topic of the day, until Lady Fernmore re- 
 joined them to inquire if her visitor had 
 heard lately from Italy. This interruption 
 did not, however, satisfy little Willie, who 
 ran up to Edith, saying, 
 
 " Mo-ar play !" 
 
 " Ko, no ; not now. You must amuse 
 yourself with Fanny," and the small mite 
 toddled away with considerable dignity to his 
 friend the spaniel. 
 
 ,; Lady Blanche is arrived," said Lord Fitz 
 allan.
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 277 
 
 " I congratulate you, and I long to make 
 the acquaintance of the future Lady Fitz- 
 allan. You have met Lady Blanche Aubrey 
 often, I suppose," said Edith, turning to her 
 husband. 
 
 " 2so, I have not. Before she went abroad 
 she was a mere child, and Lord Farleigh 
 rarely took her into society." 
 
 " Then, Lord Fitzallan, we must each of 
 us have an introduction ; I shall lore her as 
 a sister, from your description." 
 
 " And she is prepared to love you, Lady 
 Fernmore." Lord Fitzallan promised to con- 
 vey to Lady Blanche Edith's intention of 
 calling on her, and he then took his leave ; 
 and while Lord and Lady Fernmore are en- 
 joying their tete-a-tete) we will briefly de- 
 scribe Lady Blanche Aubrey. She was the 
 only child of Lord Farleigh, and had been 
 motherless from her earliest infancy. Lord 
 Fitzallan had loved her from his boyhood, 
 and, contrary to Shakspeare's axiom, in this
 
 278 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 instance "the course of true love did run 
 very smooth." Lady Blanche had been for 
 the last three years on the continent with 
 her father, and soon after her return she 
 was to exchange a father's love for a hus- 
 band's. Her intended husband had con- 
 stantly joined them during their absence 
 from England, and the longest separation 
 they had ever known was to be the last. 
 She had just arrived in London. 
 
 When Lady Fernmore first met Lord Fitz- 
 allan, she was prepossessed in his favour by 
 the resemblance he bore to Henry Morton, and 
 acquaintanceship and intimacy increased in- 
 stead of diminishing her first impression. 
 With a polish of manner and knowledge of the 
 world he united an openness of heart and a 
 guilelessness that pleased Lady Fernmore; 
 there was a refined simplicity in his ideas, 
 which contrasted so strangely with his know- 
 ledge of mankind, and, as their friendship in-
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 279 
 
 creased, he confided to Lady Fernmore his per- 
 fect admiration and love for the Lady Blanche. 
 The delight with which he recalled every look 
 and word of his affianced bride, awakened 
 Edith's sympathies — it seemed to her like the 
 realization in another of what she had been 
 dreaming. It may easily be imagined with 
 what thorough pleasure she called on the day 
 following on Lady Blanche, accompanied by 
 Lord Fitzallan, who, in turn, was as much 
 pleased that the ladies should know each 
 other. It is curious to notice how "the 
 standing orders of society" are broken 
 through in the progress of an acquaintance 
 between those who have in common the same 
 attached friend. It may be they meet for 
 the first time, but there is a warmth and 
 cordiality in their greeting which show that 
 in heart they are not strangers, that they 
 have a mutual regard and knowledge of each 
 other, bearing an exact proportion to the tie
 
 280 EDITH VERNON ; OR, 
 
 which binds each to their common Mend. 
 It was so in this case. No sooner did Lady- 
 Blanche meet her visitor, than every trace 
 of formality or vague anticipation vanished. 
 Each seemed to recognise an old and beloved 
 friend, each was charmed with the grace and 
 loveliness of the other. As Lady Blanche 
 was comparatively a stranger in London, and 
 had neither mother nor sisters, Lady Fern- 
 more proposed that she should be her chape- 
 rone, and begged she would consult her in 
 every case where she might be of service. 
 
 Lady Blanche thanked her for her offer, 
 and, accepting it, said, 
 
 "I have heard so much of you, Lady 
 Fernmore, that I am sure it will be follow- 
 ing the wishes of Lord Fitzallan to endea- 
 vour to become like you. I think he will 
 even have more pleasure in my society when 
 he meets me with you." 
 
 Lady Fernmore knew better than that ;
 
 CONTRASTS OF CHARACTER. 281 
 
 but she noticed the absence of envy that 
 marked her young friend's character, and the 
 quiet way in which she believed that Lord 
 Fitzallan would think her improved by her 
 intercourse with herself. 
 
 " Why," thought Edith, " it has been his 
 constant remark for the last two months that 
 we were so different, and that Blanche was 
 perfection." 
 
 While Lady Fernmore's health permitted 
 it, she constantly accompanied her friend to 
 all amusements where she required her pre- 
 sence. Lord Farleigh was engaged in a 
 hundred different pursuits, and disliked the 
 sort of society that his daughter entered into. 
 He was, or fancied himself, a scientific and 
 literary character, and disdained anything so 
 unintellectual as a ball, or soiree musicale ; 
 consequently he willingly resigned his child 
 to the care of Lady Fernmore.
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.