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 or ILLINOIS 
 
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 AUGl UW 
 
 SEP l*? 
 
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 L161 — O-1096
 
 (5 
 
 THE 
 
 /^-a^^^*-^-^-^^»— "^ /^^ 
 
 SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 DAUGHTERS OF THE EARL, 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 BJIPICTING RECENT SCENES IN FASHIONABLE LIFE, 
 
 BY A LADY. 
 
 IN FOUR VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 I^UBLIC LIBRARY, CONDUIT-STREET, H AN O VER-8QU ARE J 
 
 AND SOLD BY GEORGE GOLDIE, EDINBURGH; AND 
 
 ^OHN GUMMING, DUBLIN. 
 
 1813.
 
 Kv- .%'V..% 
 
 B. Clarke, Printer, Well-Strttt, Londos.
 
 
 « To 
 
 "^ The fiidit Honourable 
 
 \^ ■ ^ 
 
 V 
 
 krHE LADY LOUISA CADOGAN, 
 
 <, These Volumes are dedicated, 
 
 !^^ 
 
 AS 
 
 <t small mark of respect and affection , 
 
 it 
 
 T BY THE AUTHOR. 

 
 m
 
 TftE 
 
 SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 DAUGHTERS OF THE EARL. 
 
 CHAPTER T 
 
 In the midst of an extensive park, finely 
 planted, and on the banks of a beautiful 
 lake, in one of the most romantic and pic- 
 turesque counties of England, is situated 
 the ancient family seat of the De Courcis. 
 On the opposite side of the lake, embosom- 
 ed in trees which have stood for nearly two 
 centuries, rise theGothic spires of Fortescue 
 Abbey. A rustic bridge, thrown across the 
 lake, served to mark that once the families 
 of DeCourci and Fortescue were in habits 
 of intimacy. The Abbey had been de- 
 sorted for several years, and the bridge 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 would have been rendered useless, but for 
 now and then an occasional visit from some 
 of the domestics wha were left in charge of 
 these venerable mansions : within the last 
 five years, however, a part of the De Courci 
 family had resided at the Castle: but only a 
 small portion of its truly magnificent apart- 
 ments were occupied : the grand suit of 
 state chambers, which had often been filled 
 with beauty, rank, and valour, had long 
 been unopened, except at proper times, to 
 admit the free circulation of air. 
 
 Various were the reports amongst the 
 peasantry concerning the sudden departure 
 of the family from the Abbey, arid its subse- 
 quent desertion: a year after, the Castle 
 was also abandoned; and until within the 
 last five years none of the De Courcis had 
 entered its walls. The few domestics who 
 remained, and who were grey with age, 
 were, however, better informed upon the 
 subject; but, out of respect to their lord, 
 they confined their knowledge to their own 
 bosoms, and lamented in secret that the 
 Castle \A as no longer the scene of English 
 hospitality, and English munificence.
 
 THK ^NS OF THE VISCOUNT. 3 
 
 Although it was no longer crowded with 
 noble guests, or with choice musicians, 
 whose animating strains inspired each heart 
 with mirth and joy, yet it now contained 
 the .orphan daughters of the late Earl, who 
 for loveliness of feature, elegance of figure, 
 and accomplished manners, might vie with 
 the fairest beauty which had ever graced the 
 De Courci family, whose portraits hung in 
 'the long picture-gallery of the Castle. At 
 the decease of their father, whose death was 
 occasioned by a fall from his horse, their 
 mother, the late Countess, fell into a deep 
 k and settled melancholy, and in less than 
 " eight months followed the object of her 
 best affections to the grave, leaving hex 
 daughters to the guardianship of her hus- 
 band's brother, and to the tender and mater- 
 nal care of her sister, Lady Dorothea Arch- 
 dale, who promised (not more than she had 
 performed) to be, in the true sense of the 
 word, a mother to them. 
 
 Fond of retirinneiit, and glad to avoid 
 the gaiety and vice of the metropolis, she 
 eagerly accepted of their uncle's offer of re- 
 siding at the old family seat, until it would 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 be necessary to introduce her beloved 
 nieces into high-life. With the assistance 
 of an amiable and well-educated woman, 
 as governess, she had them perfected in 
 every elegant and fashionable accomplish- 
 ment. Five years had they lived in the 
 solitary castle of their ancestors, without 
 any other society than their aunt and go- 
 verness : the latter now took leave of them 
 with tears of real affection: her talents 
 were no longer necessary to them ; and her 
 own private concerns called her to London 
 in the spring of the year, her pupils pro- 
 mising to send for her on their arrival in 
 town the ensuing winter, in which they 
 were to be presented at Court. 
 
 Her departure was sincerely lamented 
 by the youngest daughter of Lord De 
 Courci : mild and gentle, tender and affec- 
 tionate, she had ever looked upon Mrs. 
 Selby as the friend and director of her 
 youth, and, next to her aunt and sister, 
 she held a place in her heart. Not so Lady 
 Elvira — her spirit, bold and independent, 
 scorned to be controled even by those she 
 loved ; and she had looked forward to the
 
 THE SONS OF TKE VISCOUNT. 5 
 
 absence of Mrs. Selby with pleasure, as it 
 would then allow of her waiulering about 
 as she liked, unchecked by the voice of ex- 
 perience and caution. The next circum- 
 stance which filled her bosom with rapture, 
 was the anticipation of the freedom she 
 should enjoy when under the roof of the 
 Earl, her uncle, who lived in the highest 
 style of fashionable luxury. What afforded 
 her gratification filled the mind of her 
 sister with regret aad inquietude. Attach- 
 ed to the wild and romantic scenery around 
 her, and naturally diffident of her own at- 
 tractions, she trembled at the idea of mix- 
 ing with a world she had neither the desire 
 nor the spirits to encounter. She would 
 gladly have ended her days at the Castle 
 with her aunt and sister: innocent as an in- 
 fant, her affections, her wishes, all centered 
 within its walls, and she felt unhappy 
 whenever their departure was mentioned. 
 The joy, however, which this event evi- 
 dently gave her sister, by degrees made her 
 more reconciled to what was unavoidable. 
 Lady Dorothea saw it also: she w^ished he'i: 
 eldest niece more steady, more rational, 
 
 B 3
 
 5 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNt. 
 
 iind less addicted to pleasure, yet she own-' 
 ed that the inclination was natural in a girl 
 of seventeen, gifted with every perfection of 
 nature. 
 
 The first use which Lady Elvira made of 
 Mrs. Selby*s absence was to disregard one 
 of her solemn injunctions. In their rambles 
 over the grounds of the Castle, the lake 
 was the principal object of their admira- 
 tion: a pleasure-boat was always at hand to 
 convey them on its clear and beautiful sur- 
 face. The Abbey, and its verdant lawn, slop ' 
 ing gently down to the bank, had frequent- 
 ly excited their youthful curiosity. Lady 
 Elvira longed to go all over it, and learn 
 the history of its possessors; and often cast 
 an anxious look towards the bridge, which 
 was now in a very tottering and decayed 
 state. She had tried all her persuasion to 
 gain Mrs. Selby's consent to her wish, but 
 her governess had ever denied her with a 
 firmness which damped the desire of her 
 less enterprising sister. Compelled to yield, 
 she however determined to strati fv her 
 wishes the first opportunity that offered. 
 In order to effect her purpose, she had
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 7 
 
 recourse to the housekeeper for informa- 
 tion respecting the Abbey. She found her 
 shy at first, till overcome by the entreaties 
 of her ladyship, she confessed that she was 
 very intimate with the person who had the 
 chief care of the Abbey ; that she was a 
 worthy and respectable woman, who had 
 lived from her infancy in the Fortescue 
 family; and that if her ladyship was so de- 
 sirous to view this long-neglected building, 
 she would speak to Mrs. Thomson, who 
 she was assured w^ould take great pleasure 
 in showing her the fine paintings it con- 
 tained. 
 
 " My aunt must not know of my visit/* 
 said Lady Elvira, "or she will call me im- 
 pertinently curious.** 
 
 Mrs. Wilson hesitated at this conceal- 
 ment ; but, fond of her ladyship, she at 
 length consented to do as she desired ; and 
 Lady Elvira heard with delight that the 
 next day Mrs. Thomson would be ready 
 to receive her. Accordingly, when the 
 sisters took their accustomed walk, Lady 
 Elvira strolled towards the bridge, at which 
 she had so often cast a look of desire. 
 
 iJ 4
 
 8 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Already had she placed her foot on the 
 
 creaking boards. — " What are you doing, 
 
 Elvira? Where arevoti o'oino:?*' "To see the 
 
 Abbey.'* " The Abbey V exclaimed her 
 
 sister in a tone of siurprise, and drawing her 
 
 back. *' You jest^ my dear Elvira: you 
 
 know we have been forbidden to cross this 
 
 bridge both by my aunt and our dear Mrs. 
 
 Selbv." 
 *' V^erytrue/' replied her ladyship, gaily ; 
 
 *' butmyaunt willnotknovvofour visit ; and, 
 
 thank heaven, we are no longer chained to 
 
 the side of our dear Mrs. Selby." 
 
 In vain did her sister try to dissuade her 
 
 from this imprudent step. Lady Elvira was 
 
 half over the bridge; and her sister, ashamed 
 
 and unwilling to allow her to encounter 
 
 cither blame or danger alone, followed with 
 
 trembling steps. 
 
 They were received by Mrs. Thomson 
 with great respect, whose appearance pre- 
 possessed the sisters in her fav^our: she 
 looked at them with a saddened gaze that 
 did not escape their notice, and a sigh fre- 
 quently escaped her as she led them over 
 the desolate apartments, once the scene of
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 9 
 
 domestic happiness, now deserted, dreary, 
 and forlorn, yet kept in tolerably good re- 
 pair. The portraits of the Fortescue family 
 and their ancestors particularly engaged the 
 attention of the sisters, who listened eagerly 
 to the short history of each. They now 
 came to a whole-length of a beautiful fe- 
 male, placed between two portraits of equal 
 beauty. 
 
 " These/' said Mrs. Thomson, wiping 
 away a tear as she spoke, " are the pictures 
 of the present Viscount Fortescue and his 
 brother ; and this was their sister ; done 
 when they were all young, innocent, and 
 happy. Alas! ladies, it is many a year since 
 a De Courci set foot in this house, and I 
 never expected to see one again ; but Mrs. 
 Wilson told me your ladyships wished so 
 much to have a look at the old abbey, thai 
 1 could not refuse, for to be sure children 
 cannot help the faults of their parents." 
 
 Amazed, the beautiful sisters looked at 
 each other, then again on the portraits, as 
 if they were some way connected with 
 what had fallen from the housekeeper. 
 Lady Elvira first broke silence, and in- 
 
 B 6
 
 10 THE SONS OF TJIK VISCOUNT. 
 
 quired how long the Abbey had been de- 
 serted by its possessors. Mrs. Thomson 
 started, and perceived by the question that 
 her fair visitors were perfectly ignorant of 
 all that concerned the family. Recovering 
 in some degree her composure and her pru- 
 dence, she replied, that domestic troubles 
 had rendered a residence at the Abbey 
 painful to the late Viscount, and that his 
 sons, after his death, had from the same 
 •reason avoided it; but that the steward came 
 down yearly to see what was necessary to be 
 done, and that she expected him in a few 
 months. 
 
 " But what became of this beautiful 
 t\oman?'* inquired the sisterof Lady Elvira. 
 ** She died when only eighteen,^' faintly re- 
 plied the housekeeper. " The present Vis- 
 count and his brother are both widowers : 
 the former has only one child, a daughter ; 
 and Mr. Henry, three children, two of 
 whom I am told are very fine young gentle- 
 men. God knows if ever I shall be blest 
 with a sight of them, for I dare say they 
 will not come here in their father's life- 
 time.'^
 
 THE SOKS OF THE VISCOUNT. 11 
 
 Mrs. Thomson now conducted them into 
 the library ; but afraid, lest they should be 
 missed, they promised to call next day, and 
 look over some old romances, which she 
 said they were welcome to read at their 
 leisure. Thanking her for her kindness, 
 and apologizing for the trouble they had 
 given her, in a moment the sisters were 
 again on their own grounds, and had the 
 satisfaction of finding that their absence^ 
 which had been longer than usual, was un- 
 noticed. 
 
 *' How delightful,^' cried Lady Elvira, 
 ** it will be to occasionally pass a dull hour 
 at the Abbey, and read over those musty old 
 books, which I dare say have not been 
 to.uched since the departure of the family!*' 
 
 " I should enjoy very much the perusal 
 of the romances,'* replied her sister, " did I 
 not feel that in acting in this clandestine 
 manner I am guilty of a breach of trust.*' 
 
 " Nonsense!" cried Lady Elvira: " you 
 have such antiquated notions, Angelina, 
 that 1 really often fancy when I hear you 
 talk it is Mrs. Selby." 
 
 *' You pay me a great compliment, vay
 
 1? THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 dear Elvira. I shall be bappy to resemble 
 that excellent woman in every thing. But 
 you will own that in going to the Abbey 
 unknown to my aunt wc have acted very 
 improperly: it has made me feel, for the first 
 time in my life, embarrassed and uncomfort- 
 able in her presence." 
 
 , " Ridiculous, Angeline! What harm can 
 arise from our gratifying an innocent curi- 
 osity ? But if you feel so very embarrassed, 
 you need not accompany me there again. 
 I shall certainly go and look over the books, 
 -for I have never read any romance but the 
 Castle of Otranto. We have no novels or 
 romances in our library. I dare say you 
 will not object to read some of the Vis- 
 count's, although you may decline paying 
 another visit to the Abbey.'* 
 
 " Whatever I may object to,'* said Lady 
 Angeline, " I shall not allow you, my dear 
 Elvira, to go alone; but I certainly do feel 
 a repugnance to renew our visits to the 
 Abbey, a repugnance that I can hardly ac- 
 count far/' 
 
 The next morning, however, Lady 
 Angeline offered to accompany her sister,
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 13 
 
 if she still continued in the same mind. 
 ^' That is a dear little girl!" cried her giddy ,^ 
 ladyships, " and if you were less like our 
 moralizing governess, I should doaton you.'' 
 Then taking the arm of Lady Angeline, she 
 hurried towards the path which led to the 
 object of her wishes. 
 
 Airs. Thomson was glad to see them, al- 
 though they were the daughters of Lord 
 De Courci, and assisted to select such of 
 the volumes as caught their fancy, offering 
 to send the books. But this would not do; 
 nor did Lady Elvira think fit to entrust heV 
 waiting-maid with the secret; but recollecting 
 Mrs. Wilson, she requested that they might 
 be made into a parcel, and left with her. 
 This settled, they staid half an hour in the 
 little parlour which Mrs. Thomson occupi- 
 ed, and eternally bound her to their interests 
 by the affability and sweetness of their be- 
 haviour. Some landscape drawings attract- 
 ed the notice of Lady Angeline, who was 
 mistress of that art: they were the early 
 productions of the late Miss Fortescue, 
 whom Mrs. Thomson represented as being 
 highly accomplished, beautiful, and amiable.
 
 14 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 They longed to know more concerning her; 
 but the evident agitation of the housekeep- 
 er, when mentioning her name, repressed all 
 inquiry from the dehcate and feeling sister 
 of Lady Elvira. 
 
 Mrs.Thomson, who had led a life of seclu- 
 sion little consonant with her disposition/ 
 hoped they would often honour her with a 
 call,and again begged that they would freely 
 make use of the library, which she now had 
 dusted, and put in order, ready for their re- 
 ception. The tottering state of the bridge 
 filled her with apprehensions for their safe- 
 ty; and old James, the gardener, was ordered 
 to mend it as well as he could, pretending^ 
 that as she sometimes paid a visit to 'Mrs. 
 Wilson, she was afraid to pass over it. As 
 this was the case, her orders were obeyed 
 without suspicion. 
 
 The perusal of the romances afforded the 
 sisters infinite amusement; and even Lady 
 Angeline forgot her fears in the delight she 
 experienced, as she listened to the deeds of 
 chivalry and love they contained. Natu- 
 rally of a pensive turn of mind, her tears 
 flowed over the imaginary woes they de-
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. \5 
 
 picted, nor little dreamed that soon her own 
 bosom would be filled with other sorrows 
 than what arose from fiction. 
 
 They continued their visits to the Abbey, 
 and procured fresh food for the mind, with- 
 out being discovered. The little pleasure- 
 boat was now resorted to more than ever; 
 and Lady Elvira w^ould frequently steer it 
 up and down the lake w^ith no other com- 
 panion than her sister : she managed it so 
 skilfully, that her aunt occasionally ac- 
 companied them in their aquatic excur- 
 sions, delighted by the contemplation of 
 their happy features, and the sweet harmony 
 of their melodious voices. At these times, 
 a servant w^as always ready to assist them 
 in and out of the boat: when alone. Lady 
 Elvira would leap fearlessly in, and steady 
 it for her less courageous sister. 
 
 As the weather became warm, and the 
 summer advanced, the sisters made daily ex- 
 cursions on the lake, and generally crossed 
 over to the opposite shore to pass an hour 
 with Mrs. Thomson, and steal a look at the 
 once youthful brothers of Miss Fortescue. 
 Their visits, however, were suddenly stop-
 
 16 TJIE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 pedbythe unexpected intelligence tliatthe 
 steward brought. Mrs. Thomson had orders 
 to geft the Abbey in readiness for the re- 
 ception of the family, who would be down 
 in less than a month. Lady Elvira rejoiced 
 at this news, although it would deprive her 
 of her chief source of amusement; yet she 
 longed to behold the possessors of the de- 
 serted Abbey; and doubted not but that 
 chance and herself would bring about an 
 intimacy. Lady Angeline thought dif- 
 ferently: she had gathered from what fell 
 from Mrs. Thomson that there was some 
 cause of enmity between her family and 
 that of theFortescues, and only looked up- 
 on their return to the Abbey as a fortunate, 
 event, which would put an end to those secret 
 visits which she so much disliked. Ladjr 
 Dorothea expressed much surprise at the 
 intelligence v/hich Mrs. Wilson was sup- 
 posed to have communicated to her nieces, 
 but was silent with respect to any other re- 
 mark, leaving them in. doubt whether she 
 was really acquainted with the secret cause 
 of animosity which appeared to subsist be-* 
 tween the two families^
 
 THE SONS OF THE VIS^COUNT. \7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was the middle of July when Lord 
 Fortescue and his sons arrived at the long- 
 neglected estate of their ancestors. His 
 brother, the late Viscount, had been dead 
 several months, and as he only left one 
 child, which was a daughter, the title and 
 hereditary property devolved to his brother. 
 In returnincr totheAbbev, after an absence 
 of nearly two-and-tvventy years, Lord For- 
 tescue felt the strongest emotions, which 
 were not unobserved by his sons, though 
 they dared not inquire the cause. They 
 had heard that the Abbey had been the 
 scene of some domestic misfortune, which 
 was the reason that their family had not 
 resided there as usual ; but they had never 
 been made acquainted with what that do- 
 mestic misfortune was. An event, which 
 was to take place in the Autumn of the 
 year, had determined Lord Fortescue to
 
 18 THE SONS or THt VISCOUNT. 
 
 visit the Abbey, and be a witness of rts 
 present state, and of the repairs and irti- 
 provements which it was necessary it should 
 undergo before it could be made a fit resi- 
 dence for his youngest son ; a youth about 
 nineteen, of the most amiable and endear- 
 ing manners, tender and benevolent heart, 
 joined to a person manly, handsome, and 
 highly prepossessing. Amongst his many 
 excellent qualities, that for which he was 
 most admired was his filial love and piety; 
 his steady adherence to the wishes of his 
 father, whose existence seemed entwined 
 with that of his beloved Henry. 
 
 Sidney Fortescue was a year older than 
 his brother, and of a disposition and cast 
 of character perfectly dissimilar. He loved 
 his father affectionately ; but as he often 
 thought many of his commands unreason- 
 able, he ventured to slight them whenevxBr 
 they opposed any of his favourite pursuits. 
 For his brother he' felt the warmest regard, 
 but regretted that his father had not edu- 
 cated him for the church, as he would have 
 made an excellent parson ; he, however, ad- 
 mired him for those gentle virtues and en-
 
 - THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 19 
 
 gaging qualifications, his own bold, adven- 
 turous, and impetuous nature, made him 
 appear to want. 
 
 In accompanying his fatliei* and brother 
 to the Abbey, he had been led more by a 
 spirit of curiosity than any veneration he 
 entertained for Gothic architecture. He 
 had declined making one of a gay party to 
 Brighton, in hopes that he should be able 
 to find out some clue that would unravel 
 the mystery which had so long hung over 
 the Abbey, and every thing connected with 
 it. While his father was closetted with 
 the housekeeper, himself and his brother 
 took the opportunity of strolling over the 
 extensive grounds w^iich belonged to the 
 estate : at length they came to the lake. 
 The beautiful scenery of theopposite shorcj 
 with the majestic castle of the De Courcis, 
 met their view. Who could it belong to ? 
 They had never heard it m,entioned by their 
 uncle or their father. Not daring to ques- 
 tion the latter, they determined to apply to 
 Mrs. Thomson, whose goodnatured coun- 
 tenance promised to satisfy their curiosity. 
 Thev, however, hastily turned from the
 
 so THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 contemplation of the Castle at the soutid 
 .of their father's voice. 
 
 " My sons/' said Lord Fortescue, taking 
 an arm of each, whilst his fine fea,tures were 
 clouded with deep resentment, "that castle 
 once belonged to the deadliest foe of our 
 house. Lord De Courci, once my bosom 
 friend. He wounded me in the tenderest 
 point, brought ruin and dishonour on my fa- 
 mily— You start, my sons. To-morrow I will 
 confide to your bosoms the story of my 
 wrongs. Lord De Courci is no more — ^I can- 
 not say, so is my enmity; for deep and 
 lasting is the hatred which I bear for every 
 individual that belonged to him." Henry 
 shuddered — " Swear to me, my children, on 
 this deserted spot, once the calm scene of 
 peace and domestic happiness, that you will 
 never enter the Castle of De Courci ; that 
 you will never speak to one of the family, 
 unless to denounce vengeance on their 
 heads— You hesitate. Can you doubt the 
 justness of my anger, the propriety of my 
 demand ? To-morrow, my sons, your hearts 
 will beat in unison with mine : until then I 
 defer the oath I have just required."
 
 THE SOKS OF THE VISCOUNT. 21 
 
 Returning to the house, Lord Fortescue 
 cast his eyes on the ruined bridge, newly 
 mended. They flashed fire. " Sidney, fly, 
 and tell Mrs. Thomson I require her im- 
 mediate presence.*' His son obeyed. " Oh ! 
 my beloved Henry,** said the agitated 
 father, " how many painful recollections 
 of misplaced friendship, of blighted love, 
 does this bridge bring to my remembrance ! 
 How often have I crossed these boards 
 with one who was the pride of my heart, 
 the glory of my family ! What days of rap- 
 ture have I passed within those castle walls! 
 How dreadful was the change, how bitter 
 the disappointment]'* 
 
 Henry could only press the hand of his 
 father to his lips, as his brother and the 
 housekeeper now advanced. 
 
 " Mrs. Thomson,'* said his lordship, 
 sternly, " 1 thought this bridge had been 
 pulled down." 
 
 " I received no orders to that purpose 
 my lord, or they would have been strictly 
 obeyed." 
 
 *' Strictly 1" repeated the Viscount. 
 " what means the repairing of the bridge 
 if all orders had been strictly obeyed?*'
 
 52 THE SOMS OF THE VISCOfN'T. 
 
 " I will not deceive you, my lord. A 
 few years after your family had quitted tliei 
 Abbey, I was taken with a sudden and 
 alarming illness, and my niece, who was 
 then with me, ran in her distress to the Cas- 
 tle for Mrs. AYilson's assistance. To her 
 care I believe I owe my life : since then we 
 have occasionally seen each other, and I 
 had the bridg^e mended a short time since 
 that it might not break awa}^ and put a 
 stop to our intimacy. I hope your lord- 
 ship will excuse me.** 
 
 *' I forgive you,** replied the A iscount, 
 " because I am well assured of your fidelity 
 and attachment to my family. But from 
 this moment let all further intercourse cease 
 between you and Mrs. A¥ilson. In a short 
 time you will resume your office, and have 
 plenty to attend to at the Abbey. Let a 
 servant be dispatched to the next town, in 
 order to procure workmen; and it is my par- 
 ticular request that no vestiges of the bridge 
 remain by this time to-morrow. I have no 
 objection, my sons, if you wish it, to your 
 ordering a boat to be brought you at the 
 saine time^ It is not my intention to hinder
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 23 
 
 you from enjoying the beauty of the lake^ 
 What I shallcommunicatetoyou to-morrow 
 will be sufficient I am confident to prevent 
 your touching upon the opposite shore.** 
 
 Lord Fortescue then returned to the 
 house, and, exhausted by his feelings, retired 
 early to his chamber, leaving his sons great- 
 ly astonished with what they had heard. 
 Mrs. Thomson came to inquire if they 
 would please to have any thing else before 
 they went to bed. Sidney's curiosity was 
 on the rack ; and she, perhaps, had the pow- 
 er to gratify it. He made her sit down and 
 take a glass of wine ; then in a careless man- 
 ner inquired who now resided at the Castle. 
 Pleased by the notice taken of her by the 
 sons of her highly respected master, she 
 without hesitation informed them of all she 
 knew concerning the present inmates of the 
 Castle ; and to Sidney's eager questions of 
 are they young, are they handsome, 
 brown or fair ? she goodnaturedly re- 
 plied that she had never seen two more 
 lovely, affable, young creatures in her life. 
 Encouraged by the looks of her attentive 
 hearers, she confessed that she had render-
 
 94 THE SONS Of THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 ed herself liable to the just anger of th^ 
 Viscount, by admitting into the Abbey the 
 daughters of Earl De Courci. 
 
 '' But, sir/* said sheto Henry, whose in- 
 telligent countenance betrayed that he 
 thought she had done wrong, ' after 1 had 
 once seen them it was impossible to refuse 
 them any thing. Lady Elvira is so free and 
 goodnatured, she just talks to me as if I was 
 her equal ; and Lady Angeline has such a 
 sweet voice, and such a melancholy look, 
 that I almost think, if she pleased, she 
 could persuade me to do as she liked/' 
 
 *' And these sweet girls, we must swear 
 never to speak to,*^ cried Sidney, hastily. " I 
 am certain that it will never do for me to 
 take so unnatural an oath. I could no more 
 behold a pretty woman at my elbow, and 
 keep silent, than I could fly without wings." 
 
 " My brother,** replied Henry, gravely, 
 " be a little serious : my father cannot be 
 unjust : he will not require of us any thing 
 that we ought to deny." 
 
 " Lord love you, sir," said Mrs. Thom- 
 son, " pray excuse me, but I am sure if 
 you were to see Lady Elvira, she would
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 25 
 
 soon compel you to break your vow ; and 
 would soon makeyou speak to her: and then 
 she is so very handsome, that you could not 
 look upon her without loving her. Oh ! 
 what a sad pity that her father should have 
 been so bad a man as to make it necessary 
 for this family to hate the sight of hist" 
 
 The brothers were silent. " I dare say," 
 continued Mrs. Thomson, " that they are 
 upon the lake this fine night.** Each brother 
 half rose involuntarily from his seat. "You 
 might just take a peep at them before to- 
 morrow comes, and then you would not 
 dispbey my lord.',* Again they rose. " I 
 should like to see the forbidden fruit," 
 said Sidney. " Come, Hal, to-night you are 
 free to gaze : after you have once made a 
 vow, 1 know you will keep it. Let us have 
 a peep at those sweet girls we are born to 
 hate, detest, and avoid.** 
 
 Henry smiled, and took the offered arm 
 of his volatile brother: they turned into the 
 left shrubbery- walk, which led them to the 
 banks of the lake. Suddenly they stopped 
 at the sound of female voices, and hid 
 themselves behind some flowering shrubs, 
 
 VOL. rv c
 
 26 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 that they might see unobserved who pass- 
 ed. It was the pleasure-boat, with Lady- 
 Elvira and her sister : their veils were 
 thrown back, and the moon shining full on 
 their faces, discovered to the brothers the 
 beautiful countenances of the orphan 
 daughters of Lord De Courci. 
 
 As the boat passed close to the spot 
 which contained the sons of the Viscount, 
 they heard Lady Angeline remonstrating 
 with her sister upon the impropriety of go- 
 ing so close to the Abbey grounds, when 
 probably the family had arrived. 
 
 " Well, and what of that?** replied Lady 
 Elvira. "Surely the lake is free for us to sail 
 upon at our pleasure. Verily, Angeline, 
 one would think these Fortescues were a 
 set of wild beasts, ready to devour us, you 
 seem so terribly afraid of them. For my 
 part, I am anxious to see some of this 
 strange family: at all events I am determin- 
 ed to have a bunch of that purple and 
 white clematis which hangs so temptingly 
 over the lake." She stopped the boat 
 close to where the brothers were concealed. 
 
 " Dearest Elvira, let me beseech you io
 
 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 27 
 
 return home: do not attempt to gather the 
 flowers : consider, should any of the fa- 
 mily — " " The family again !" exclaimed 
 her sister. Sit still, Angeline, and I will my- - 
 self protect you from this dreadful bugbear 
 of your fancy. I must have this branch; 
 and here is a piece of your favourite honey- 
 suckle/' 
 
 " Do not move, I conjure you,** said 
 Henry in a whisper; " you will terrify Lady 
 Angeline; remember also our father." He 
 held his brother's arm, who motioned to- 
 wards the shrub. Lady Elvira had by this 
 time proqured her branch, and the boat 
 went on. 
 
 What a lovely girl!*' cried Sidney; 
 
 but why did you prevent me from giv- 
 ing her the flowers she wished for ? She is 
 a divinity, and no power on earth coulcj 
 make me feel any other sentiment than ad- 
 miration and love for so beautiful a crea- 
 ture." 
 
 *' Which of them do you mean?" in- 
 quired his brother. 
 
 " Which! why her who plucked the cle- 
 matis : I scarce looked at her little timid 
 sister/* e 2 

 
 23 THE SONS G¥ THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 " And I,** replied Henry, " could not 
 take my eyes from the sweet pensive face 
 of the delicate Angeline. Let us return, my 
 brother: we shall suffer for this act of dis- 
 obedience/' 
 
 " Oh ! for mercy sake, Hal, do not begin 
 to preach; we shall have enough of that 
 to-morrow. Come,'* said he, quickening 
 his pace, " let us catch another glimpse of 
 the forbidden fruit." 
 
 Again the boat was discernible as they 
 crossed the lawn. Sidney dragged his bro- 
 ther to the edge of the lake : he saw them 
 alight, and as Lady Elvira tied a silken 
 cord to fasten it to a tree, she saw the bro- 
 thers as they eagerly stood watching all her 
 motions. They bowed gracefully : her 
 ladyship returned the salute ; but her sis- 
 ter had flown upon the first sight of them. 
 Slowly did Lady Elvira retire, and often 
 turned to look behind her, until the in- 
 tervening shrubs hid the sons of the Vis- 
 count from her view. Secretly dreading the 
 approaching morning, which was to. put 
 their obedience to so severe a trial, the 
 brothers returned to Uie Abbey,
 
 THE SONS OF THE VlSCOtTNT. 29 
 
 " I am always sorry when my father re- 
 quires me to act contrary to my own ideas 
 of justice," said Sidney: " in this instance I 
 feel that I must disobey him. How, Henry, 
 can I promise to hate or avoid such an 
 angel as Lady Elvira ?*' 
 
 *' To hate,'* mildly replied his brother, 
 /* would indeed be impossible, and un- 
 christianlike. My father's injuries must 
 be great indeed before he could extend his 
 resentment to the children of his enemy. 
 He will not require us to hate, only to 
 avoid, the daughters of Lord De Courci.'* 
 " That is more than I can promise,'* re- 
 plied Sidney. " I cannot be such a hypo- 
 crite as to pretend that I will shun the sight 
 of a young and lovely woman, wrhen my 
 heart even now feels the glance of her large 
 expressive blue eye, and the luxurious 
 beauty of her full and graceful person. You, 
 Henry, can safely obey my father, and claim 
 a merit in yielding to his desires. I must 
 boldly encounter his displeasure, for I can 
 never swear to avoid or detest this enchant- 
 ing creature." 
 
 '' My dearest Sidney, you will be better 
 
 c 3
 
 30 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 able to judge after to-morrow. Let us re- 
 member that a parent has a right to advise 
 and direct his children. I seek to claim 
 no merit for any part of my conduct. My 
 father's wishes have ever been sacred to me, 
 and I hope that t;hrough life I shall always 
 act according to his desires/' 
 
 " You are a good fellow, Hal, and I 
 would give the world to be like you; but 
 that I never shall : my head and my heart 
 are eternally at war with each other. I 
 love my father dearly, although I cannot 
 always obey him, and I admire you for 
 virtues tvhich I shall never be able to 
 imitate," 
 
 ^' My dear Sidney," ^aid his brother, af- 
 fectionately, " your heart will ever do you 
 credit, although its warmth may sometimes 
 lead you astray ; and your goodnature in 
 allowing me to remind you of your exces- 
 sive spirits, reflects honour upon your un- 
 derstanding.'* 
 
 They then separated for the night, but 
 the lovely form of Lady Elvira haunted the 
 slumbers of Sidney, and he rose with a de- 
 pression of mind which he had till now
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 31 
 
 been ignorant of. The expressive features 
 of his father contributed to his dejection, 
 and he felt a shudder as the Viscount rose 
 from the breakfast table, and requested their 
 company. 
 
 Lord Fortescue now conducted his sons 
 over some of the principal apartments of 
 the Abbey, and then into the picture-gal- 
 lery. Throwing himself upon a crimson 
 couch opposite the portrait of their aunt, 
 he desired them to place themselves by his 
 side. Trembling, they obeyed. After a 
 moment's pause, he withdrew his eyes from 
 the likeness of his sister, and addressed his 
 sons. 
 
 " My dear boys, I am now going to dis- 
 close the secret which has rendered this 
 mansion of my ancestors so long neglected; 
 a secret which I flatter myself is known 
 only to a few, and that few belonging to the 
 Castle and the Abbey. Two-and-twenty 
 years back how different was the appear- 
 ance of this house ! Then it contained my 
 ever to be revered parents, my lamented 
 brother, and a sister, whose picture 
 (pointing to it as he spoke) conveys but 
 
 C 4
 
 ^9 
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 faintly a just idea of her personal loveli- 
 ness. At that time, also, the Castle was 
 inhabited by the sons of the long-cherished 
 friend of my father, the venerable Earl De 
 Courci : they were upon terms of the 
 closet friendship and affection with our 
 family. While my father saw with pleasure 
 the attachment of the young lord for his 
 daughter, and my heart acknowledged an 
 equal preference for the sister of De Courci, 
 a double union was looked upon as certain ] 
 and this event gave rise to more frequent 
 and tender interviews on each side. How 
 often have I crossed the wooden bridge 
 with my beloved Cecil ! how often have I 
 consigned her to the care of my friend, 
 while I poured forth the fond effusions of 
 my heart to his amiable and beautiful 
 sister!" The Viscount's voice trembled 
 with the strength of his emotions. 
 
 " A month before the time fixed for our 
 nuptials I went to town to the house of my 
 brother, who w^as then married, and with 
 whom I had business to transact: himself 
 and his wife were to accompany me back, 
 m order to be present at the ceremony
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 33 
 
 which would have made me the happiest of 
 men/* — Again he paused. " On my re- 
 turn I thought I perceived a shyness on the 
 part of Lord De Courci, and a change like- 
 wise in the manners of my sister. Alarmed, 
 1 questioned her as to the cause, but tears 
 were her only reply. Still more perplexed, 
 I applied to Emma De Courci, but she was 
 ignorant of the source of my uneasiness ; 
 though she believed some words had passed 
 between Cecil and her brother, as he had 
 been gloomy and thoughtful ever since my 
 departure. Willing to change the unplea- 
 sant subject, I pressed her to my bosom, 
 and talked of our approaching union. 
 JDeeply she sighed. * I cannot account 
 for my feelings,' said she, ' but I always 
 fdreaded your journey to London : a some- 
 thing which I cannot defme, and which I 
 am ashamed to own, a secret foreboding, 
 tells me, my Henry, that that journey se- 
 perated us for ever .* 
 
 '' \n vain I tried to reason her out of her 
 fears, by fresh assurances of my love. ' Let 
 us be united to-morrow, my adored Emma,* 
 I cried, * and cheat these idle apprehensions.* 
 
 c 6
 
 34 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 * No,' she replied. ' I maybe weak and fool- 
 ish. Let us wait, my Henry, until the ap- 
 pointed day ; but remember, that whatever 
 may happen my heart is your's.' I con- 
 fess, my sons, that on parting as usual with 
 this lovely and inestimable girl I felt my 
 own spirits affected by her conversation, 
 I crossed the bridge with slow and melan- 
 choly steps, and wandered through the 
 shrubbery, to recover myself before I joined 
 the family. Tolerably composed, I was re- 
 turning, when the sound of voices made me 
 stop: thinking^it was De Courci and my 
 sister, who were enjoying the fineness of the 
 night, I was unwilling to disturb their hap- 
 piness, and stepped aside behind some trees 
 UDtil they should have passed. It was them- 
 The arm of De Courci was round the 
 ^vaist of my sister ; with the other he wiped 
 away the tears which fell from her eyes. 
 *^ My own dearest Cecil,* said he, * why 
 this distress ? Am I not your husband in the 
 eye of heaven, and will not a few days make 
 you my wife by the laws of the land ?* 
 
 " It cannot restore me to my own self- 
 esteem,' replied my sister : * that you
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 35 
 
 have for ever destroyed. Oh ! De Courci, 
 I can never become your wife : every look, 
 every word of displeasure, I should attribute 
 to your recollection of my past weakness. 
 No, De Courci, vain are your promises of 
 eternal fidelity, of everlasting love. Had 
 you really loved as you profess, you would 
 not have ruined my peace of mind, or 
 betrayed that honourable confidence which 
 I reposed in you : you would have died 
 before you had suffered your own passion 
 to violate the delicacy of mine,* 
 
 " Judge of my feelings, my dear children, 
 at this discovery. A cold chill ran through 
 my veins. They passed onward. I leaned for 
 support against a tree — I gasped for breath — 
 I sank on the ground deprived of motion 
 and sense. Recovering to life, I returned 
 to the house, and retired unobserved to my 
 chamber, I loaded my pistols, and without 
 reflecting upon what I was about, hastily 
 recrossed the bridge, and sought De 
 Courci. 
 
 " I found him pacing up and down the 
 lawn before the Castle : he was surprised 
 to see me, and offered to take my arm. In-
 
 56 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 dignantly I pushed him back, and presented 
 him with one of the pistols. ' De Courci/ 
 I exclaimed, trembling with anger and 
 wounded pride, 'we are no longer friends: 
 this hour decides our fate. Fire ! The 
 w^ound is already given that has destroyed 
 my peace.* 
 
 " Hold ' Fortescue,* replied the Earl, 
 . * and hear before you condemn me. Your 
 sister has I perceive betrayed herself.* 
 ' No,' said I, hastily : ' I was in the shrub- 
 bery when you passed this evening : but 
 useless will be your endeavours to vindi- 
 cate the baseness, of your conduct. We 
 lose time, my lord: again 1 beg you to fire.' 
 
 '' No,' replied his lordship, ' I leave 
 that to you : I have only done what I would 
 advise you and every man to do before he 
 marries, Happy the man whose destiny 
 unites him to a woman of sufficient virtue 
 to resist the pleadings of a favoured lover. 
 The dishonour,. Sir, is mine, and mine only, 
 I am ready to marry your sister to-mor- 
 row/ 
 
 *' Cowardly villain!' I cried in a voice 
 choakcd by passion — .'insulting scoundrell
 
 THE SOxVS OF THE VISCOUNT. 37 
 
 nothing but your life can atone for the in- 
 jury you have clone my sister : nothing but 
 your blood can wash away the stain you 
 have brought on my family.* I approached 
 towards him : he retreated a few paces and 
 fired ; the ball passed over me ; mine was 
 more certain ; it went through his shoulder, 
 and the blood gushed from the wound. 
 
 '* Fire, my lord,' I exclaimed : he did 
 so, but it was in the air. Enraged, I know 
 not to what excess my temporary madness 
 might have led me, had not the noise of 
 the pistols brought his brother and some 
 of the servants to the spot. ' 1 leave you for 
 the present, my lord,' said I ; and without 
 deigning to answer the inquiries of his 
 brother, returned to the Abbey, in a state 
 of mind bordering on distraclton. Here I 
 was met by my father, who had also heard 
 the report of the pistols. I acknowledged 
 that they were fired by De Courci and 
 myself; but resolutely denied giving any 
 reason for our quarrel. 
 
 " My poor father, who until that mo- 
 ment, had ever found me submissively obe* 
 .dient to his will, left me with a heavy
 
 38 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 heart. My mother assailed me by her tears 
 and her entreaties. I was immoveable: 
 scarcely a word escaped my lips : to my 
 brother 1 was the same. My beloved sister 
 fainted at the news of our quarrel, and with 
 difficulty was restored to life. Ignorarnt of 
 his dishonour, my father sent daily inqui- 
 ries after the health of the Earl, who was 
 confined to his bed, while my sister was 
 ordered to be immediately conveyed to 
 Clifton, w^hither all the family accompanied 
 her. 
 
 " You may conceive, my sons, what 
 were the agonized emotions ofyour father on 
 quitting the Abbey without beholding the 
 indolized object of his affections, and with a 
 resolution never again to enter it, follow- 
 ing the beloved sister, whose imprudence 
 had been the cause of all, and lying under 
 the displeasure of my father and my family, 
 for my obstinate perseverance in refusing 
 to account for what had passed. 
 
 " Vain were the united talents of the 
 first medical men that could be procured. 
 My sister grew worse and worse, and at 
 length paid the forfeit of her life for her
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 39 
 
 misplaced confidence in the honour of a 
 villain. My grief was excessive; yet I had 
 hitherto consoled myself that the fatal se- 
 cret was unknown to my parents. This 
 consolation I was now deprived of, by a 
 letter which she left behind her, addressed 
 to them : here she disclosed the cause of 
 my silence, and her own weakness. A few 
 lines to myself, expressive of her gratitude 
 for my conduct, and of her entire forgive- 
 ness of her destroyer, were presented me 
 by my distracted father. He fell upon my 
 neck — -his tears moistened my bosom. I 
 led him to a seat, and throwing myself at 
 his feet, implored his pardon foi* the un- 
 easiness I had occasioned him. 
 
 " Raising me, he pressed me to his heart. 
 'My noble son,' he cried, ' worthy. cof 
 the name you bear, you have acted as I 
 could wish. De Courci, I will not curse 
 thee ; I will not solicit the vengeance of 
 heaven upon thy guilty head ; I will only 
 expect that no child of mine ever holds con- 
 verse with thee, or any of thy family. And 
 you, my Henry, who art now the chief 
 «uiferer by this dreadful event ; you, my
 
 40 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 son, must sacrifice to the honour and dig- 
 nity of your house the best affections of 
 your heart : you must renounce, for ever, 
 all intercourse with every individual, inno- 
 cent or guilty, of the De Courci family. 
 Swear to obey strictly my desire.' 
 
 " At that moment the sweet form of 
 Emma De Courci flitted across my mind. 
 Love softened my hatred. I stood irre- 
 solute. My mother and brother entered 
 the apartment. ' Welcome,' cried my 
 father, taking my weeping parent from the 
 arms of your uncle. ' You are come to 
 witness the noble heroism of our Henry : 
 you are come to hear him swear to re- 
 nounce thesister of the inhuman De Courci.' 
 
 " My brother came towards me ; I felt 
 his hand tremble in mine. ' Henry, 
 said he, ' this sacrifice is indeed worthy 
 of thee. How I glory in such a brother 1 
 Let the injuries of our departed Cecil be 
 ever present to our recollection ; let pur 
 children be taught to hate the name of her 
 betrayer; let us live only to revenge the 
 murder of our sister.' 
 
 '' The tears of my mother, the agonies
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 41 
 
 of my father^ who anxiously waited my 
 reply, the deep hatred I felt for De Courci, 
 joined to the exhortations of my brother, 
 roused me. I flung myself agaui at the 
 feet of my father. I grasped his hand. ' I 
 swear most solemnly,' I exclaimed, ' to re- 
 nounce all intercourse with the family of 
 De Courci. I swear to bring my chil- 
 dren to detest their name, to avoid their 
 presence. Blest spirit of my sister, hear 
 my vow. My parerxts, my brother, are 
 you satisfied ?* 
 
 *' I rushed jvvildly out of the room, 
 and fled to my own. They respected my 
 grief, and held my sorrows sacred. In a 
 few days I joined them as usual; and as 
 all future residence at the Abbey was for 
 ever given up, I accompanied them to 
 London, and mixed more than ever in its 
 dissipations. But, at moments, the re- 
 membrance of my angelic Emma would 
 agitate me to madness. 
 
 " Time, and the society of your amiable 
 mother, who I married two years after the 
 death of my sister, restored me to the 
 comforts of life, and the sweets of domestic
 
 42 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 happiness. You, my sons, and your sister,* 
 were given to my prayers, and you have 
 contributed to render my existence va- 
 luable.*' 
 
 " Forgive me, dear father,'' said Henry ; 
 *' but may I ask what became of the in- 
 nocent Lady Emma r>^ 
 
 The Viscount involuntarily pressed his 
 hand, while the crimson flush which dyed 
 his cheek proclaimed the power that 
 once loved name yet possessed over the 
 mind of Lord Fortescue. 
 
 *' My son, never let that name be men- 
 tioned after this morning. Lord De Courci 
 continued ill for manv months: on his re- 
 CO very he quitted the Castle, and I have- 
 been told has never resided in it since. 
 Of his sister I know little. Once, indeed, 
 I heard that she had married an Irish noble- 
 man,- and that the} lived constantly in 
 Ireland. Since then, I have read his death 
 in the papers, but am ignorant of every 
 thing else that relates to her." 
 
 He cast a look towards his sons : 
 both their eyes were filled with tears of 
 generous sympathy : he passed his hand
 
 THE SOJNS OF TPIE VISCOUNT. 43 
 
 over his own, then recovering himself, he 
 said, " These are not the feelings, my 
 boys, which ought to fill your bosoms. 
 Look at that portrait, think of her suffer- 
 ings, of mine. Let the injuries of your fa- 
 mily call forth your just resentment. My 
 sons, you must swear before this picture of 
 your murdered aunt, to hate the De 
 Courcis, to teach your children to avoid 
 them, and never to let the pure and noble 
 blood of the Fortescues be contaminated 
 by mixing with that of the detested 
 Earl's.'' 
 
 Sidney cast an imploring look on his 
 brother: Henry understood him. '* My 
 beloved, my revered father,*' mildly re- 
 plied the youngest son of the Viscount, 
 " we will be all yoii wish : doubt not but 
 that we feel, deeply, keenly feel, the dis- 
 honour brought on our family by Lord De 
 Courci : think not that a son of your's will 
 ever enter his castle walls, will ever dis- 
 obey your commands. But force us not 
 to take an oath at which humanity 
 shudders, and which necessity may compel
 
 44 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUI^^T. 
 
 lis to break. We will avoid all inter- 
 course with the De Courcis; but, my 
 beloved father, can your children, the 
 children of benevolence, and every gentle 
 virtue, united in my mother's heart, and in 
 your own, can we swear to hate the in- 
 nocent ? Can we inttil into the minds of 
 our offspring sentiments so uncongenial 
 with those which the sublime Father of 
 the Universe has taught us to adopt and 
 cherish ?*' 
 
 Lord Fortescue pressed his son to his 
 bosom. " Henry, your mother speaks in 
 you : I trust to your pride, your filial affec- 
 tion. I know, my child, that your nature is 
 incapable of hatred; I will not therefore ex- 
 tort from either of you an oath. Should 
 chance conduct any of that detested family 
 to your presence, I trust that you will not 
 be wanting in that proper spirit, that pro- 
 per dignity, which has ever distinguished 
 the Fortescues. ' You, Henry, will shortly 
 enter into a state which I hope will secure 
 your future felicity: for you I dread not, 
 although this Abbey w^ill be your reaidence;
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 45 
 
 but for Sidney, whose thoughtlessness and 
 high spirits too often lead him into error, I 
 have some fears. I hear that the Castle 
 contains the orphan daughters of my 
 enemy: they are young; perhaps also they 
 possess the hereditary beauty of the De 
 Courcis. Shun the sight of them, my dear 
 Sidney, as you would value the love of your 
 father, the welfare of yourself. My resent- 
 ment extends to all that house, nor could I 
 ever acknowledge a son of mine whose 
 heart did not own that my conduct was 
 just. 
 
 The blush of wounded pride flushed the 
 cheek of Sidney. " I will endeavour, my 
 father, to regulate my conduct by your ex- 
 ample, and by my brother's more endearing 
 nature : perhaps I shall then be as dear to 
 my father as he is.'* 
 
 " You are equally dear to me as 
 Henry," said Lord Fortescue: "it is for 
 your own happiness, my beloved Sidney, 
 that I tremble wh^n I see the impetuosity 
 of your dispositicii at times obscure the 
 natural goodness of your heart ; in every
 
 46 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Other respect, my son, I am satisfied with 
 you/' Then embracing them affectionate- 
 Jy, he retired to give orders concerning the 
 repairs of the Abbey. 
 
 I
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 47 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 In obedience to the orders of Lord 
 Fortescue, the bridge was pulled down. 
 Vain precaution ! as if the human mind was 
 ever at a loss for contrivances to gratify its 
 wishes. The servant had procured a boat 
 from the neighbouring town, and the Vis- 
 count advised them to seek amusement on 
 the lake, reminding them, with a look 
 which denoted that he would be obeyed, 
 not to touch on the opposite shore near the 
 grounds of the Castle. 
 
 *' I shall not avail myself of this permis- 
 sion,'* said Sidney, looking at the same time 
 towards the proscribed land. *' To obey 
 my father, I must avoid temptation. This 
 boat only seems given to us to make trial 
 of our duty : I will not use it." 
 
 " And I," replied his brother, " have 
 ' letters to write ; but after that I shall avail
 
 48 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 myself of my father's kindness, and hopel 
 my dear Sidney, that you will accompany 
 me. Let us go to the right of the Abbey, 
 then we need not pass the Castle." 
 
 " I have no inclination to go on the 
 lake, and beg to be excused." Henry 
 smiled. " How long, my dear Sid, will 
 you keep in this humour ?" 
 
 *' Always, I hope," said his brother, 
 turning from him ; and entering the house, 
 went directly to the library, and amused 
 himself until dinner-time with some of 
 those very romances which had been read 
 with avidity b}'- the daughters of Lord De 
 Courci. He persisted in his resolution of 
 not going on the lake, and actually refus- 
 ed to walk with his brother, who would not 
 go out without him. 
 
 As usual, the sisters took their evening's 
 amusement on the lake : the}* beheld with 
 surprise the destruction of the bridge, and 
 instantly attributed it to the right cause. 
 Lady Elvira boldly steered her little bark 
 . up the middle of the lake, and cast many 
 an anxious look towards the Abbey. No 
 one appeared: she sung a stanza of a beautl- 
 
 I
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 49 
 
 ful Italian air ; but no form gave relief to 
 her curiosity. 
 
 " How provoking !*' cried she with a 
 mortified accent. " I would give any thing 
 to see the sons of old Crabtree: they appear- 
 ed by the light of the moon to be very 
 elegant young men. As I live, Angeline, 
 they have got a boat. Oh, how I rejoice i 
 we shall yet have a sight of them in spite of 
 the poor old bridge being destroyed.** 
 
 " You will not take my advice, Elvira. I 
 wish to heaven you thought as I do. It is 
 evident, although my aunt may be ignorant 
 of it, that some cause of enmity exists to 
 our hcuse. I wonder your pride does not 
 prevent your seeking any intimacy with 
 the Fortescues, besides the indelicacy of 
 such young girls as we are appearing to 
 wish it." 
 
 " Well, dear Mrs. Selby, you may b^ 
 quite right, but I am quite determined, in 
 spite of old Crabtree, and his wise precau- 
 tions, to get acquainted with some of the 
 family. Suppose my father and old Crab- 
 tree hated each other, is that any reason 
 why the children should hate each other 
 
 VOL, I, D
 
 60 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 also? Who knows but that my little An- 
 geline, alias Mrs. Selby, may be destined to 
 reunite the families.** 
 
 " I wish I had a portion of your spirits, 
 Elvira : you are always gay, always happy, 
 while I seem only to anticipate future 
 troubles; yet I am net naturally of a gloomy 
 nature,'^ 
 
 " You have to thank our dear Mrs. Sel- 
 by for that/' said Lady Elvira : " she never 
 could make any impression upon me, or I 
 should have been just such a little timid, 
 fearful creature as yourself. Butlam not best 
 pleased just now, therefore we will return. 
 Stop, Angeline, I see a figure issuing from 
 the Abbey — vexation! it is a woman. She 
 comes this way; let us stay the boat ; 
 perhaps it is goody Thomson." 
 
 It was the housekeeper. Lady Elvira 
 steered the boat towards the shore, while 
 Mrs. Thomson, looking fearfully round, said 
 in a low voice, *' I shall be turned away 
 should the Viscount know of my speaking 
 to any of the Earl's family ; but there is a 
 something about you, my dear ladies, that 
 I cannot help running the risk just to ask
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 51 
 
 you how you are, and to beg that your 
 ladyships will return any book you may 
 have, lest my lord should miss it outof the 
 library." 
 
 *' We have two volumes/* replied Lady 
 Elvira ; *' and if you will be here to-morrow 
 evening, we will bring them : but, dear 
 Mrs. Thomson, what had the poor old 
 bridge done, that it should draw down the 
 vengeance of your lofd ?" 
 
 "Alas !'* said Mrs. Thomson, again look- 
 ing round her, " it brought to the recollec- 
 tion of the Viscount those days of happi- 
 ness which were passed in intimacy be- 
 tween your family and his. He has strictly 
 forbidden his sons not to speak to any of 
 the family at the Castle, on pain of his 
 displeasure ; and I fear indeed that his re- 
 sentment is as strong as ever." 
 
 " And they will of coui-se obey him,", 
 said Lady Elvira, haughtily. 
 
 *' Ah ! my sweet lady," replied the 
 housekeeper, " I much doubt but that will 
 be impossible. They saw you last night 
 quite plain, as you gathered some flowers; 
 
 LIBRARY
 
 6f THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 and Mr. Sidney declared that he woulcl 
 never take an oath to hate or avoid so 
 beautiful a creature/* 
 
 The eyes of Lady Elvira sparkled with 
 delight, while the blush of modesty tinged 
 the fair cheek of her sister. " Is Miss. 
 Fortescue at the Abbey?" inquired Lady 
 Elvira. 
 
 " No, my lady," said Mrs. Thomson : 
 " but I dare not stay any longer now, for 
 fear I should be discovered. To-morrow, 
 about this time, I will endeavour to be 
 here." 
 
 '* So," cried the eldest daughter of the 
 Earl, as the boat slowly left the shore. 
 *' the Viscount, old Crabtree I mean, 
 would fain compel his sons to swear eter- 
 nal hatred to us poor unoffending damsels. 
 Weil, w^e shall see how far he will succeed. 
 I w^onder what my father could have done 
 to make him so severe against us." 
 
 " That, indeed, I should like to be in- 
 formed of," said her sister; "but, dear 
 Elvira, had you paid attention to my ad- 
 vice, to my fears, you would not have
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 63 
 
 plucked the flowers: had the brothers ap- 
 peared, 1 should have died with shame. 
 What will they think of our temerity?'* 
 
 " 1 know not/' rephed Lady Elvira, 
 leaping from the boat, " but I long to see 
 them again : I dare say they are very hand- 
 some, for old Crabtree's picture pleased me 
 highly; and should they resemble his por- 
 trait, I should be delighted to get acquaint- 
 ed with them, and disappoint Lord Fore- 
 sight." 
 
 Thoughtless, as to consequences, this 
 giddy girl, in contradiction to the entreaties 
 of her sister, resolved to hazard every thing 
 to attract the notice of Lord Fortescue's 
 sons, and make them feel an interest in her 
 welfare; while the deHcate mind of Lady 
 Angeline shrunk from the part she now 
 had to perform, as companion to the reso- 
 lute and enterprising Elvira. A year young- 
 er than her sister,* she was skilled in every 
 elegant accomplishment that can adorn the 
 woman of fashion. Mistress of music 
 drawing, painting, and several languages^ 
 she never knew the ennui which fre- 
 quently oppressed her sister : a well-regu- 
 
 p 3
 
 64i THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 lated mind, a tender and benevolent heart, 
 gentle and unassuming manners, rendered 
 her the idol of her aunt, and of the domes- 
 tics. Short for her age, which was not 
 quite sixteen, she appeared two years 
 younger than she was. Slender, graceful, 
 and delicately proporuuuid, was the ele- 
 gant little form of Lady Angeline : her face 
 was not so perfect as her sister's, yet the 
 upper part of it was strikingly beautifuL 
 Her forehead, her fine arched eyebrows^ 
 and long dark eyelashes, with eyes of the 
 sweetest blue, pleased every beholder; yet 
 Lady Angeline did not at the first glance 
 of a common observer fascinate like her 
 lister. It was necessary to be acquainted 
 with her, to seethe varying expression of 
 her countenance, to watch the smile of 
 pleasure or affection chase away the natu- 
 rally pensive cast of her features; it was 
 necessary to see her in domestic life, to 
 know her full value. Lady Elvira en- 
 chanted the senses; Lady Angeline sub« ' 
 dued the heart. 
 
 Contrary to the expectations of Lady 
 Elvira, her aunt proposed to acconipanj?
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 55 
 
 them on the lake the next evening, and 
 took a servant with them to manage the 
 boat, if necessary, there being rather moi*6 
 wind than the old lady liked. Vexed at 
 this disappointment to her intended inter- 
 view with Mrs< Thompson, she sat thought- 
 ful and silent, with her back to the Abbey, 
 until her aunt requested her to sing a duet 
 with her sister. Unwillingly she complied : 
 her inattention displeased Lady Dorothea, 
 and she gently reproved her for her negli- 
 gence ; while she bestow^ed on her sister 
 the just encomiums her taste and execu- 
 tion merited. 
 
 Recovering her good-humour, Lady 
 Elvira offered to sing it over again, and had 
 finished one stanza, when raising h r "yes, 
 she beheld on the Abbey shore a boat 
 with the sons of the Viscount. Animated 
 by the desire to please, she went through 
 the song with considerable spirit, while the 
 sweet tones of her sister's thrilling voice 
 stole into the heart of Henry, who, to all 
 appearance, was completely occupied by 
 the book which he held. 
 
 Sidney pushed forward his boat, and 
 » 4
 
 56 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 bowed respectfully as he passed that which^ 
 contained the daughters of the Earl. Lady 
 Dorothea and her eldest niece returned the 
 salute, while Lady Angeline, blushing, 
 drew her veil over her face. 
 
 " The sons of Lord Fortescue I sup- 
 pose/* said her aunt : " tJlPJ ^^^ very fine 
 young men, and, at least, seem more polite 
 and well-bred than the Viscount, who, I 
 have reason to think, intends declining any 
 intimacy with his neighbours.'*' 
 
 *' Perhaps so," replied Lady Elvira, 
 with a careless air, at the same time fol- 
 lowing with her eyes the track of his boat: 
 it turned suddenly, and made towards 
 them. Again Sidney bowed as it passed, 
 and cast a look on Lady Elvira, which she 
 returned : the blood at the same rrioment 
 crimsoned her cheek, and rendered her 
 strikingly beautiful. 
 
 Henry appeared, as before, absorbed in 
 reading; his eyes, however, had carefully 
 examined the lovely daughters of the Earl, 
 and had seen the interesting and modest 
 countenance of the youngest, before she 
 drew down her veil. Impressed with a
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 57 
 
 favourable opinion of her delicay by this 
 simple action, his heart instantly gave her 
 the preference over her exquisitely beau- 
 tiful sister, and he continued lost in a 
 variety of reflections, until the voice of his 
 brother made him lay aside his book. 
 
 " And is it possible, Henry, that at your 
 ?ge you are stoic enough to prefer your 
 studies to the contemplation of such beau- 
 ty as that which has just passed us ? I 
 always thought you keenly alive to the 
 charms of female loveliness ; though, per- 
 haps, I wrong you, and your indifference 
 might be occasioned by the absent graces 
 ofLucinda/* 
 
 '* No, indeed,*' replied Henry, colour- 
 ing deeply : " I must avow, that although 
 my sense of duty made me seem to be en- 
 grossed by Petrarch, yet my rebellious 
 eyes were fixed on the same objects as 
 your own/' 
 
 *' Talk not of objects," hastily exclaim- 
 ed Sidney, " for I saw but one, and that 
 was the bewitching Lady Elvira. I en- 
 countered her fascinating eyes ; I saw the 
 smile of encouragement dimple her ^;low» 
 
 B 6
 
 16 THE SONS OF tHlT VIS^COUNT. 
 
 ing cheek, and my heart acknowledged the 
 matchless combinations of her luxurious 
 form/' 
 
 " Sidney !" said his brother, in a voice 
 which instantly brought him to reason. 
 ** Sidney, remember our father: already, 
 my dear brother, have y::n disobeyed ; al- 
 ready have you begun au intimacy which 
 may end fatally.*' 
 
 Sidney sighed deeply, then steered his 
 boat to the domain of his father, "I am 
 not fit to meet the Viscount at present," 
 said he. *' Go, Henry ; I will soon follow 
 you." Then turning into the shrubbery^ 
 walk, which had before concealed him 
 from the sisters, he flung himself under 
 some odoriferous shrubs, which gave him 
 a distant view of the Castle. 
 
 Lady Dorothea, fatigued, left her nieces 
 to enjoy, if they pleased, '^a ramble in the 
 garden ; but Lady Elvira, ns soon as she 
 was retired, ran hastily for the books, 
 hoping that it was not yet too late to meet 
 Mrs.' Thomson. She leaped into the boat : 
 her- sister followed, from affection, and by 
 the light of the rising moon steered it' to
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 59 
 
 the opposite side, just to the spot where 
 Sidney lay in breathless expectation. A 
 cloud, which now obscured the lustre of 
 the moon, rendered the objects less per- 
 fect to the sight. 
 
 *' I am afraid, Angeline, she is not 
 here," said Lady Elvira. " How torment- 
 ing, that we could not come as I appointed!'* 
 
 *' She is most likely gone," replied her 
 sister: '* let us return, Elvira ; another time 
 you may give her the books.** 
 
 Sidney rose, and came forward. Lady 
 Angeline screamed faintly, and clung to 
 her sister. " Do not be alarmed," said he, 
 ina soft voice, which soothed the trembling 
 girl. " I meant not to terrify you. Say, 
 charming Lady Elvira, who are you seek- 
 ing? Can I assist your search ?" He stood 
 on the edge of the lake : the boat was so 
 dose to the shore that he could touch the 
 hand of her ladyship, who sat at the stern. 
 She did not withdraw it, and he ventured 
 to raise it to his lips. 
 
 " Speak, lovely creature: do not fear 
 me. Sidney Fortescue would die to obtain 
 your confidence, your good opinion.*'
 
 60 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUKT. 
 
 *^ indeed r* replied Lady Elvira, turning 
 her full expressive eyes on his facfe. *' I 
 thought you had sworn to hate a daughter 
 of Lord De Courci.'* 
 
 Sidney started back : he let fall the soft 
 hand of Lady Elvira : but the moon, which 
 just then emerged from the cloud, pre- 
 sented to his view the exquisite beauty of 
 his fair enemy. Again he took the un re- 
 luctant hand of the lovely daughter of the 
 Earl. 
 
 " Hate you !" cried Sidney, in a tremu- 
 lous voice. '* You are so enchantingly 
 beautiful, that I could gaze on that face, 
 that form, until I turn rebel and adore you. 
 No, divine Elvira, fear not my hatred; my 
 heart throbs with far different emotions. 
 Tell me who you were seeking in these 
 inhospitable grounds." 
 
 '^ I will confide in your apparent kind- 
 ness,*' replied her ladyship, inwardly de- 
 lighted at the conquest 'she had made, 
 *' and trust that you will screen the good- 
 natured Mrs. Thomson from your father's 
 anger. I wished to return her some books 
 which she had the goodness to lend me."
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 61 
 
 She then offered him the volumes. " Will 
 you take charge of them, and restore them 
 to their proper place?" 
 
 Sidney imprinted on her hand an impas- 
 sioned kiss, and promised to obey. " May 
 I not hope that this interview will be the 
 forerunner of many ?'* said he. " Let me 
 plead, lovely Elvim, to gain a place in your 
 esteem. I cannot espouse the cause of my 
 father's resentment, while I read in those 
 sweet eyes the language of peace." 
 
 " You may be deceived," she replied, 
 with] a look and voice which spoke the 
 contrary. " Adieu ! be obedient, and try 
 to hate Elvira De Courci." 
 
 The boat moved from the shore, and when 
 Sidney no longer beheld the form and face of 
 Lady Elvira, his heart reproached him for 
 his disobedience and want of filial duty. 
 Melancholy, and self-condemned, he re- 
 turned to the Abbey. The looks and voice 
 of his father increased his agitation, and 
 he retired to his chamber, suffering for the 
 first time in his life the stings of a guilty 
 conscience. 
 
 In the morning he met his brother with
 
 6^ THE SONS OP THE VISGOUNT. 
 
 the embarrassment natural to an ingenuous 
 mind. Henry observed it, but forbore to 
 notice it to Sidney^ who continued thought- 
 ful and abstracted during the day. In the 
 evening, be accompanied his brother on 
 the lake, and though his eyes anxiously 
 •ought the fair inmates of the Castle, yet 
 they did not appear. The succeeding day 
 brought a similar disappointment, and he 
 felt an inquietude to know the cause of 
 their absence, which deprived him of rest. 
 
 On the evening of the third day, Sidney 
 took advantage of his brother being engaged 
 with the Viscount in the alterations whicb 
 were making in the Abbey, and leaping 
 into the boat, unconsciously steered it to 
 the forbidden shore. 
 
 Lady Elvira had purposely denied her- 
 self the gratification of her favourite 
 amusement. Although young, and inex- 
 perienced hi the ways of the world, she 
 had sufficient penetration to discover that 
 her charms had made a deep impression on 
 the eldest son of the Viscount. His hand- 
 some person and polishe^d manners pleased 
 her taste,, and his disposition, bold and ad-
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 63 
 
 venturous, well accorded with her own. 
 With justice she reasoned, when she 
 thought that her absence would feed his 
 passion, and inflame his desires, to be 
 more intimate ; and though she longed to 
 again behold him, yet she wisely resolved, 
 in this instance, to check her inclinations. 
 She had, however, exhausted all her for- 
 bearance by the third day, and Sidney 
 onee more discovered with joyful exulta- 
 tion the pleasure-boat of the sisters gliding 
 down the lake. 
 
 In a few minutes his own was by its 
 side, and mutual expressions of pleasure 
 passed between them. " I had feared,'' 
 said he, addressing himself to Lady El- 
 vira, " that illness kept you at home ; but 
 your looks betray that my apprehensions 
 were groundless. Am I mistaken, dear 
 Lady Elvira, when I suspect that your 
 absence was meant to try my patience ?'* 
 
 " You vain creature," cried her lady- 
 ship, gaily, *' to imagine that you were in 
 any way concerned with our movements. 
 We are free to range about at our pleasure 
 while we continue at the Castle; but
 
 64f THE SONS Cl^ Hit: VISCOUNT. 
 
 you (looking archly in his face) cannot 
 boast the same privilege/' 
 
 " Tormenting angel ! to remind me of 
 my misfortune; yet Lady Elvira may judge 
 of my sentiments, of my adoration, when 
 I run so great a risk to obtain the happi- 
 ness of seeing her.*' 
 
 The smile which overspread her features 
 inspired him with hope. The boats moved 
 slowly onwards, as if they were licenced 
 to be friends ; and Sidney, while gazing on 
 the captivating countenance of Lady Elvira^ 
 totally forgot his father's prohibition. At 
 the extremity of the Castle garden stood 
 a root-house, which was nearly concealed 
 by a variety of flowering shrubs, and a 
 profusion of honeysuckles, which had 
 grown in at the windows, and partly over 
 the door. It caught the eye of Sidney, 
 and he stopped to admire its picturesque 
 situation. 
 
 *' I think," said Lady Elvira to her 
 sister, " that now the weather is become 
 sultry, this will be a charming retreat for 
 us to pass an hour or two when the sun 
 will not allow of our walking. We will
 
 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 6*5 
 
 have it put in order, and yon, Angeline, 
 can amuse yourself by sketching the sur- 
 rounding scenery. What a nice place to 
 sit and read an old romance 1" 
 
 " I admire it greatly,'' replied her sister, 
 ** and have often wished to make it my 
 study ; but I did not think it calculated 
 to suit your taste, my dear Elvira.*' 
 
 " If you are fond of romances,'' said 
 Sidney, eagerly, " will you suffer me to 
 bring you one from the pen of Mrs. Rad- 
 cliffe ? It is well worth your perusal.'* 
 
 " Thank you,'* cried Lady Elvira: " this^ 
 little root-house will be the best place 
 imaginable for such kind of studies. I 
 will order it to be got ready for us im- 
 mediately." 
 
 Sidney felt a secret exultation at this in- 
 telligence. It was far enough renioved 
 from the sioht of the Abbev for him to en- 
 joy unobserved the conversation of Lady 
 Elvira; and he anticipated with youthfu^ 
 delight the pleasure which these clan- 
 destine meetings would occasion him. 
 
 Love, with all its train of hopes and 
 fears, of doubts and wishes, now took pos«
 
 66 THE SOXS OF THE VISCOUNT^ 
 
 session of his mind. Lady Elvira was the; 
 first object that had made a serious im- 
 pression on his heart : her luxurious 
 beauty captivated his senses ; the solemn 
 prohibition of his father but heightened 
 his desire to become intimate with her ; 
 and though he felt conscious ihnt he had 
 acted wrong, though he felt uncomfortable 
 in the presence of his brother or the Vis- 
 count, yet the recollection of one glance 
 from the full languishing eye of Lady 
 Elvira put to flight every prudent re* 
 soluiioi^i every hasty determination that 
 filial affection suggested. With impatience 
 he waited for the ensuing evening, and re- 
 joiced to hear that Henry was again occu- 
 pied with his father. He looked anxiously 
 for the pleasure-boat of the sisters; but 
 recollecting the root-house, his disappoint- 
 ment vanished, and he hastened with all 
 the expedition of a lover to the spot^ 
 as he expected they were there. Lady 
 Elvira had set the servants to clear it, ready 
 for her reception, and had conveyed seats 
 and a table from the Castle, with a variety 
 of little ornaments, to render it agreeable.
 
 THE SONS OF XHE VISCOUNT. 67 
 
 Sidney now felt' himself awkwardly si- 
 tuated : his boat was at the edge i5f the 
 shore : gallantry impelled him- to land, but 
 his father's commands withheld him. Lady 
 Elvira saw his perplexity, and enjoyed his 
 confusion, while Lady Angeline involun-^ 
 tarily stepped forward, to receive the books. 
 Her sister, nevertheless, prevented her ; 
 and as she leaned against the door of the 
 root-house, held out her hand with an in- 
 viting air to receive the volumes. 
 
 Young Fortescue stood irresolute : duty 
 nnd inclination were never mere Strongly 
 at variance with each other than at this 
 moment. He cast an imploring look to- 
 wards Lady Elvira, who only smiled signifir. 
 cantly at his distress. 
 
 " Dearest Elvira,'* cried the gentle Lady 
 Angeline, *' let me, I beseech you, fetch 
 the books. How can you be so cruel as to 
 tempt him to such an act of disobedience?*' 
 
 " I wish to put his fidelity to the test," 
 replied her sister, " and will positively not 
 receive the books, unless he lays them 
 like a gallant knight at my feet." 
 
 ** Enchantress !" exclaimed Sidney,
 
 68 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 leaping from the boat : *' and what reward . 
 will you bestow for having tempted me 
 from my duty ?*' 
 
 With an air of seducing tenderness, Lady 
 Elvira presented him with her hand; he 
 took it, and fixing his eyes on her beau- 
 tiful face, raised it to his lips. ' Unless 
 I could retain this precious treasure for 
 life,'' said he gallantly, " my reward must 
 be still o:reater than this fair hand." The 
 colour became deeper on the cheek of Lady 
 Elvira as she felt the pressure of his lips 
 to her's. She had, however, drawn it on 
 herself, and could not in justice be of- 
 fended with him. 
 
 *' I am repaid, sweetest Elvira, by this 
 blissful moment. Charms such as your*s 
 justify my rebellion." He turned towards 
 Lady Angeline, who shrimk back timidly 
 as he took her hand. There was a some- 
 thing so pure, so innocent, so delicately 
 chaste, in her look and manner, that 
 Sidney only ventured to raise it respect- 
 fully to his lips, and thank her for the 
 kind compassion she had shewn, 
 
 «' I would solicit your esteem," sAid he.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 69 
 
 casting his eyes on the ground, " but I 
 fear, Lady Angeline, that you will not be- 
 stow it on a disobedient son." At the 
 sound of her harnionrous voice, he raised 
 them to her blushing face. 
 
 " I love my sister," said Lady An- 
 geline, " with an affection which has made 
 me act contrary to my inclination. I 
 doubt not, Mr. Fortescue, but that you 
 are as amiable as you appear to be, but 
 I dread the result of these clandestine 
 meetings. I tremble for you, not for 
 myself.'* 
 
 " Angeline is an oddity," cried Lady 
 Elvira with vivacity, " but she is, never- 
 theless, a good girl ; and though we do not 
 always think alike, yet I believe she is in 
 general in the right. But what has. be- 
 come of your brother ? I suppose he has 
 suffered himself to be so deeply prejudiced 
 against us, that there is little fear of his 
 being disobedient." 
 
 *' My brother," replied Sidney, blushing 
 at his own inferiority, " is of that happy 
 yielding nature, that the slightest wish of 
 my father is a law with him. He has
 
 70 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 seen you, although he still preserves his 
 obedience ; and I believe indeed that no- 
 thing, no, not even your united charms, 
 would force him to infringe on his promise 
 of avoiding you." 
 
 " Let us try," said her ladyship: '' do 
 you bring him to the root-house. Jt is un- 
 fair that you alone should incur the hazard 
 of censure. Nay, do not look so grave ; you 
 must positively entice him here ; I shall 
 not rest until I have seen him.** 
 
 *' Elvira, dear sister, consider what you 
 are doing: pray hear me." '' No, no, I 
 will not, I have set my heart upon bringing 
 him over to our side: he shall not hate us, 
 I am determined." 
 
 " Henry is incapable of that," warmly 
 replied his brother: " he is one of the best, 
 one of the most amiable of human beings. 
 I would not attempt to shake his reso- 
 lution ; I would not draw him into danger 
 for the world." 
 
 " Not even to oblige me/*' said her lady- 
 ship, with a look which ran through the 
 soul of Sidney. *' Not even to oblige 
 me ?** she repeated.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 71 
 
 *' I would do much to oblige you/* re- 
 plied Sidney, " for I can refuse you no- 
 thing ; but I fear in this case I cannot 
 gratify your wishes. Henry has so high 
 a sense of filial duty, that he would sacri- 
 fice his own inclinations, his own happi* 
 ness, to the desires of his parent.'* 
 
 What an anaiable being! thought Lady 
 Angel ine, as she listened attentively to the 
 just praise bestowed by Sidney on his 
 brother. 
 
 " I must trust them to chance," said 
 Lady Elvira, with chagrin ; " that may be 
 more favourable to my curiosity than you 
 ^re inclined to be. I do not despair of 
 even gaining the good opinion of the Vis^ 
 count, some day or other." 
 
 *' Could my father but behold you with 
 my eyes,** cried Sidney, *« he would forget 
 the wrongs which have compelled him to 
 appear unjust and arbitrary: every feeling 
 would be lost but that of admiration and 
 love. Oh, that indeed my father felt as I 
 do; then, dearest Elvira, I might aspire 
 to the glory of possessing this dear handi
 
 ff 
 
 / ^ 
 
 2 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 of reuniting the two families in their former 
 
 4 
 
 bonds of friendship and affection.*', 
 
 *' Stay, stay/' said her ladyship : " you 
 forget, Sidney, that there are more consents 
 to be gained in this affair than the Yis- 
 count's. Here are you, more than half in- 
 clined to fall desperately in love v/it!^^ the 
 only woman in the world you ought to 
 hate and avoid. What a pretty scene this 
 would make in a romance. I dare say 
 Mrs. Radcliffe would be glad of the 
 hint." 
 
 '' Not unlikely," he replied, with the 
 same vivacity ; " and we may in time im- 
 prove upon it ourselves. But Lady An- 
 geline must not remain an idle spectator in 
 the drama." 
 
 " I shall make a poor figure in romance/' 
 said her ladyship : *' unless I could borrow 
 a share of Elvira's spirits, my station must 
 be in the scenes of calm domestic life. I. 
 am not calculated to shine as a heroine/' 
 
 ** You canjiot tell, Angeline, what you 
 may do, if we could but draw into our 
 magic circle the brother of Sidney. I have
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 75 i 
 
 some idea that he would be an admirable 
 companion for you." Her sister coloured 
 deeply; and Sidney was now compelled re- 
 luctantly to leave the lovely daughters of 
 the Earl, lest his absence should excite the 
 suspicion of the Viscount. 
 
 On his return he met the penetrating 
 glance of his father. " You have been 
 long absent, Sidney : the lake sexms to af^ 
 ford you infinite diversion. Pray have 
 you seen any of the De Courci family 
 since you went out?" 
 
 Confused, and taken by surprise, Sidney 
 for a moment lost his presence of mind. 
 His father repeated the question. Unac- 
 customed to dissemble, he replied with 
 hesitation, that he had seen some ladies in 
 the grounds of the Castle, who he sup- 
 posed were thedaughters of Lord De Courci. 
 At that name his father's, countenance 
 became again overcast. " Were they 
 handsome ?" " 1 believe so, my lord." 
 " You speak doubtingly," said the \ ; .- 
 count: " you are not accustomed to do so, 
 Sidney ; but perhaps the recollection of 
 my earnest injunctions, of my solemn pro- 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 hibition, was present to your mind, and 
 prevented your making your usual obser- 
 vations.*' 
 
 Sidney became more confused : he stoop- 
 ed to caress a favourite dog of his brother's, 
 to hide the blushes of conscious guilt. 
 Never before had he so daringly disoLoyed 
 his father ; and his heart bitterly rfeproach^ 
 ed him for the hypocritical part he was 
 now forced to act. It was the custom of 
 Lord Fortescue to retire early to bed, and 
 leave his sons to their own amusement ; 
 but he informed them that the next night 
 he would accompany them on the lake; 
 and requested that they would entertain 
 him with their flagelets, 
 
 A gentle breeze carried the boat nearer 
 the opposite shore than the Viscount wish- 
 ed; it was however unavoidable. " Play, 
 my sons, that fine duet you were practis- 
 ing this morning." Then drawing his hat 
 over his face, he seemed lost in deep re* ' 
 flection. 
 
 The soft tones of the flagelets were heard 
 \)y the sisters, who were walking in the 
 garden : they ran to the root-house, where
 
 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 75 
 
 they could discover through the branches 
 of the honeysuckle what passed on the 
 lake. Lady Elvira first perceived that 
 some one accompanied the brothers. **^ It 
 isold Crabtree, I dare say. Let us not be 
 seen, Angeline, or it may lead him to sus- 
 pect our interviews with Sidney." Lady 
 Angeline closed the branches, and sat 
 trembling by the window. She had, how- 
 ever, caught a glimpse of the noble figure 
 of the Viscount, as the boat slowly ap« 
 proached the root-house. 
 
 " Stop, my sons,*' said Lord Fortescue, 
 in a treiifiulous voice: " let me for a mo- 
 ment contemplate this spot, once sacred 
 to love and happiness.'* He grasped the 
 arm of Henry, who steadied the little 
 vessel. , 
 
 *' It was here, on that fatal night, I 
 vainly strove to sooth the prophetic fears 
 of the innocent Emma De Courci. It was 
 here I pressed her to my bosom for the 
 last time. Let the sacrifice /made of all 
 I loved most dearly on earth to the com- 
 mands of my father be deeply imprinted 
 on your hearts, my sons. The honour of 
 
 E 2
 
 76 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 my family, the injuries of my sister, de-* 
 
 manded that another victim should be 
 
 given to the perfidy of Lord De Courci. 
 
 /was that victim. / was compelled to 
 
 abandon the woman of my fondest love, 
 
 to break asunder the tender bonds which 
 
 were so soon to have united us. Sidney, 
 
 let not my example be lost upon you. 
 
 Great was my love, but still greater was 
 
 my filial duty. Go on, my children : turn 
 
 the boat: I will next point out to your 
 
 notice the ground on which we fought." 
 
 Involuntarily the sisters rose, and crept 
 softly through the shrubs, which enabled 
 them still to discern the boat. Again it 
 stopped at that part of the lawn nearest 
 the root-house. The stillness of the night 
 enabled them to hear distinctly the clear 
 strong voice of the Viscount. He stood 
 up in the boat between his sons, and point- 
 ed to the side of the lawn which was 
 shaded by some fine laburnum trees. 
 
 " It was here, my boys, that your father 
 and Lord De Courci first met as foes: had 
 justice had her due, his life ought to have 
 paid the forfeit of his crime. Against that
 
 THE ^ONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 77 
 
 yellow laburnum-tree he leaned for sup- 
 port, whilst the blood of a villain moisten- 
 
 ed its roots.*' 
 
 Lady Angeline sunk on the shoulder of 
 her sister, who, equally surprised, mortified, 
 and hurt, was scarcely able to support her 
 lifeless form. The boat now moved rapid- 
 ly towards the Abbey, while her tears fell 
 fast on the face of her insensible sister. 
 The distress of Lady Elvira became vio- 
 lent : she clasped her affectionately to her 
 bosom, and by degrees restored her to 
 life. 
 
 '' Let us return, Elvira," raid: Lady 
 
 Angeline, faintly. " I feel very unwell r 
 
 my head swims terribly.** " Lean- on me^ 
 
 dearest Angeline : I will support you." 
 
 As they passed by the spot which Lord 
 
 Fortescue had just pointed out to his sons, 
 
 Lady Angeline cast a shuddering glance 
 
 towards the laburnu'm-tree, and withdifii- 
 
 cuhy prevented herself from again fainting, 
 
 , while her sister slowly supported her to 
 
 the Castle. The paleness of her looks 
 
 alarmed her aunt, who cautioned her not 
 
 to stay oi^t so late again; and tenderly 
 
 E ;;?
 
 78 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 kissing the cold cheek of her favourite, ad- 
 vised her to retire to her chamber. Lady* 
 Angeline gladly assented, and in the pri- 
 vacy of her own apartment gave relief to 
 the agitations of her heart, which was now 
 oppressed by a variety of painful feelings 
 the conversation of the Viscount had given 
 Tise to.
 
 THE SOXS OP THE VISCOUNT. 79 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The sensibility of Lady Angelina had 
 indeed received a terrible shock : her deli- 
 cacy, her tenderness, were severely wound- 
 ed by the epithet which Lord Fortescue 
 had cast upon the memory of her beloved 
 father. Fondly attached to her parents, 
 she could not bear to think that her father 
 {whose sudden and untimely death had 
 contributed towards the pensiveness of her 
 character) should by any action of his Hfe 
 have merited the severe resentment of the 
 Viscount. In vain her sister endeavoured to 
 persuade her that they were words spoken 
 in pique or anger. Lady Angeline shook 
 her head in token of her incredulity, and 
 once more ventured to remonstrate with 
 Lady Elvira upon the dangerous impro- 
 priety of her conduct. 
 
 *' Let me for once persuade you, dearest 
 K 4
 
 so THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Elvira, to give up all intercourse for the 
 future with young Fortescue. He is an in- 
 teresting and fascinating young man, and 
 your heart may insensibly become so firmly 
 attached to him, that your pride, your judg- 
 ment, will not even be sufficient to guard 
 you against his entreaties. Oh ! El'^ra, 
 he advised ; trust not to your own prudence, 
 your own strength. Already has the heart 
 of Sidney become enslaved by your beau- 
 ty. His father appears to have but too just 
 grounds for his hatred of us : his own hap- 
 piness seems to have been destroyed by our 
 father : never, therefore, will he consent 
 to his son uniting himself to a daughter of 
 his enemies. My sister, my beloved Elvira, 
 retreat from the misery of this connection 
 while you are able. Your own happiness, 
 and that of the ingenuous Sidney, is now 
 at stake." 
 
 Lady Elvira, softened by the distress of 
 her sister, burst into a flood of tears, and 
 acknowledged that her advice was just, but 
 that it came too late, for she felt already at- 
 tached to the man who had risked so much 
 for her sake.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. SI 
 
 '' Save him, then, from a father's curse: 
 shun his society, and the pleadings of his 
 generous love. Elvira, my dear sister, I 
 should not have thought your volatile heart 
 would have been so easily subdued. Try, 
 however, to avoid going out those hours 
 when you are certain of seeing him. Try, 
 dearest Elvira,^' she continued as she em- 
 braced her, " to conquer this fatal parti- 
 ality.'* 
 
 Lady Elvira listened very attentively to 
 the affectionate exhortations of her sister, 
 and promised to exert all her resolution and 
 fortitude to act as she proposed. She staid 
 at home with Lady Angeline the whole of 
 two days, and endeavoured to divert her 
 mind from the painful conversation of the 
 Viscount. 
 
 Poor Sidney was suffering in the mean 
 time all the pangs of remorse. His father's 
 last address to himself sunk deep into his 
 mind : the part he had now to perform ill 
 accorded with his open, confiding, generous 
 nature ; and he longed, yet dared not 
 trust his brother with the secret of hi« 
 
 E 5
 
 82 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 heart. Henry accompanied him on the 
 lake the evenings Lady Elvira remained 
 with her sister : he cast an inquiring look 
 towards the root-house — but it was empty. 
 Their little excursion was not so pleasant 
 as usual. Henry was thoughtful. — Sidney 
 was silent and depressed. The former ^»^d 
 marked the alteration in the manners of his 
 once giddy brother: but too proud to soli- 
 cit a confidence which he felt himself de- 
 serving of, he waited until Sidney's natural 
 aflfection and openness of heart should lead 
 him to make the discovery. The dread of 
 his brother's just reproaches alone kept 
 Sidney silent on the subject, which occu- 
 pied all his thoughts: ashamed to meet 
 the eye of Henry, who had promised for 
 him more than he was able to perform, his 
 only consolation lay in the smiles of Lady 
 Elvira: and on the third evening with ea- 
 ger haste he resorted to the root-house, at 
 the hour he expected to meet her. 
 
 Lady Elvira was there. The unusual 
 gravity of her ever lively features was ob- 
 served by her lover. Tenderly he inquired
 
 I-HE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 83 
 
 the cause of her being alone ; and heard 
 that indisposition detained Lady Angeline 
 at home. 
 
 " How kind of you, dearest Elvira, to 
 spare a few moments to ease me of the 
 suspense and anxiety I should otherwise 
 feel ! I trust that your amiable sister will 
 be sufficiently recovered to join you to- 
 morrow in your walks.'* 
 
 Lady Elvira burst into tears, and ac- 
 knowledged that they had overheard the 
 conversation of the Viscount the evening he 
 was on the lake. " Our interviews must 
 end to-night,*' said she, still weeping. ^' I 
 cannot allow you to endanger your future 
 peace by encouraging your visits. It 
 would be cruel, after what I heard fall 
 from the lips of your father." 
 
 Sidney was greatly shocked that they had 
 been overheard, yet could not bear the idea 
 of absenting himself. " Vain is your pre- 
 caution, dearest Elvira: you may forbid me 
 your presence, but you cannot tear from 
 my heart your image, which possesses it. 
 Oh ! sweetest Elvira," he continued, fall- 
 ing on one knee^ " do not refuse me the
 
 S4 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 mournful privilege of seeing you. I can 
 never love you less. Could I but hope to* 
 inspire that enchanting bosom with feelings 
 like my own, what clangers would I brave J, 
 What perils would I not encounter ! Elvira, 
 adored Elvira, for your love I would even 
 dare the anger of my father.'* 
 
 She turned her beautiful face, bathed in 
 tears, towards him : love taught him to 
 translate her looks into its own language. 
 He rose, and caught her tembling to his 
 bosoni. In the raptures of that blissful 
 moment, when he heard the object of 
 his dearest affections blushingly avow a 
 mutual tenderness, Sidney forgot his fa- 
 ther, his brother, his implied promise, and 
 swore upon the lips of Elvira De Courci 
 to be her's, and her's only. 
 
 Not daring to remain as long as her in- 
 clination would have prompted her. Lady 
 Elvira promised to continue their meet- 
 ings; and hastened back to the Castle. 
 With her fled all those exquisite emotions 
 which had subdued the soul and senses of 
 Sidney. Slowly he returned to the boat ; 
 And as he raised his eyes to heaven, a
 
 .THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. S5 
 
 flash of vivid lightning crossed his face — 
 another, and another succeeded, while the 
 deep thunder, which roiled awfully over 
 his head, appeared to chide him for his 
 broken promise. 
 
 Sidney, at that instant, seemed to feel as 
 if the fury of the tempest was directed 
 solely against himself. His disobedience, 
 his rash vow, his father's uniform tender- 
 ness, so ill requited, smote him to the soul, 
 and he entered the Abbey like a culprit, 
 anxious to hide his head in the solitude of 
 his own chamber. His agitations, how- 
 ever, deprived him of rest, and his brother 
 heard him pace his room with the hurried 
 step of inquietude. He rose, and tapped 
 gently at his door. At the sound of his 
 voice, Sidney opened it ; and softened by 
 the tender inquiries of Henry, and the 
 wildness of his accents, he flung himself 
 on his bosom, and in an agony of distress, 
 and self-condemnation, owned his impru- 
 dence and his guilt. 
 
 Not a reproachful word fell from the 
 
 lips of his brother, who, pressing him affec- 
 
 . tionately to his bosom, sunk into a chair.
 
 S5 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 and covered his face with his hands. 
 Sidney, who had expected a far different 
 reception of his confidence, was now com- 
 pletely overcome by the distress of Henry. 
 " Dearest brother," said he in a voice of 
 penitence, *' your emotion wounds me 
 more keenly than the bitterest reproof 
 which you could utter. Speak to me, 
 Henry : only say that you do not despise 
 me, that you will not as well as my fa- 
 ther abandon me to the just indignation and 
 contempt which my disobedience merits.** 
 Henry raised his face ; it was wet with 
 tears : he took the offered hand of Sidney, 
 and warmly pressed it. " Why should I 
 reproach you, my brother, w hen your own 
 heart sufficiently accuses you ? I have 
 witnessed the struggles which have lately 
 disturbed your ingenuous mind ; I have 
 experienced a thousand fears on your ac- 
 count; and now you have confirmed them 
 all. Oh ! Sidney, beloved Sidney, how- 
 ever I may condemn, I must still pity 
 you. What days, nay years of unhappi- 
 ness will this fatal connection occasion 
 you ! Can the smiles, the endearments of
 
 THE SONS OF TllK VISCOUNT. 8? 
 
 love, repay you for a father's just resent- 
 ment ? Exiled for ever from his presence, 
 will the society of Lady Elvira compen- 
 sate for such a loss, or hush the up- 
 braidings of your own conscience ? No, 
 my brother, I know your nature to be 
 such, that misery would be your portion, if 
 banished from the presence of our revered 
 parent. Even in the arms of beauty, all 
 perfect as her*s, you would be wretched/* 
 Sidney groaned : he continued. " You, 
 Sidney, have bound yourself to Lady 
 Elvira by a vow, which to an honourable 
 mind like your*s is sacred. Thoughtless 
 as yourself, she did not consider the ruin 
 she was bringing upon the man she pro- 
 fesses to love. For your sake, I will 
 break the promise I gave my father ; for 
 your future happiness, I will disobey a 
 command which no other consideration 
 on earth should tempt me to violate. I 
 will to-morrow seek an interview with 
 Lady Elvira, and then I shall be able to 
 judge if she is worthy the sacrifice which 
 you hav« promised to make.'*
 
 88 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Sidney raised his eyes abashed to tlie 
 face of his brother, the tender expression 
 of whose features encouraged him : he 
 threw himself on his neck, and felt re- 
 lieved by the answering embrace of Henry. 
 Not daring to inquire the meaning of his 
 words, poor Sidney, the next day, saw his 
 brother step into the boat, and guide it to 
 the Castle grounds. It was the hour of 
 the morning that the sisters had dedicated 
 to reading in the root-house, and in a state 
 of mind truly pitiable, Sidney walked up 
 and down the shrubbery until the return 
 of his brother. 
 
 Lady Elvira had persuaded her sister to 
 take the air, alleging that they were safe 
 from Sidney until evening; to oblige her> 
 she complied; and they had just seated 
 themselves in the root-house when Henry 
 stopped his boat. Lady Angeline cast a 
 reproachful look on her sister, and would 
 have flown, but for the entrance of Henry. 
 Both sisters were equally surprised ; and 
 Lady Angeline, who a moment before had 
 resolved to fly, reseated herself in breath-
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 89 
 
 less expectation of hearing the cause of his 
 visit explained. 
 
 '' I fear," said he, bowing gracefully to 
 Lady Elvira, " that I shall be considered 
 as a most unwelcome intruder ; but the in- 
 terest I fell in your happiness, and that of 
 a beloved but imprudent brother, has 
 made me violate my given word, and act 
 in opposition to the sacred commands of 
 my father : should I succeed in my en- 
 deavour to save you from future remorse, 
 and unavailing regrets, I shall not have 
 committed the sin of disobedience in vain.'* 
 
 He respectfully took the hand of Lady 
 Elvira, whose heart sunk within her. He 
 continued. '' Think of me I beseech you 
 as a friend, as one who feels highly in- 
 terested in your welfare, as one who shud- 
 ders at the sad train of miseries which 
 Sidney's fatal love will entail upon you* 
 Beautiful Lady Etvira ! regard me as a 
 brother, who, actuated alone by the ten- 
 derest concern for your happiness, con- 
 jures you to avoid all future interviews 
 with the dovoted Sidney — devoted to the
 
 90 THE SONS OF THE ViSCOtTNT. 
 
 dreadful displeasure of a parent, whose 
 commands he has so rashly disobeyed." 
 
 The tears of Lady Elvira fell on the hand 
 he still held, while the sobs of her sister 
 turned the attention of Henry to whiere she 
 was seated. He hastily dropped the hand 
 of Lady Elvira, and involuntarily pressed 
 that of Lady Angeline's to his lips. 
 
 ** How cruelly am I situated,*' said he, 
 " thus obliged to wound the tender bosom* 
 1 would most sedulously shield from every 
 sorrow ! Dear Lady Angeline, repress your 
 sensibility. Oh ! do not suppose that I am 
 led by my father's spirit of resentment. 
 I seek alone to secure the peace of your 
 sister, and to save a beloved brother from 
 eternal remorse. Join with me in con- 
 vincing your too lovely sister of her 
 danger." 
 
 Lady Angeline raised her head, and a« 
 th^ tears still fell from her mild blue eyes, 
 as her countenance evinced a perfect co- 
 incidence in his opinions, Henry thought 
 he had never beheld so interesting, so truly 
 amiable a creature. A deep suffusion over-
 
 THE SONS or THE VISCOUNT. 91 
 
 spread her pale cheek, as he again ventured 
 to raise her hand to his lips. 
 
 ** My sister/' said she, in. a low trem- 
 bling sweet voice, '* is well acquainted 
 with my repugnance to the secret visits of 
 your brother. I have lost, I fear, my in- 
 fluence over her heart, but you, Mr. For- 
 tescue, surely cannot plead in vain." 
 
 A new feeling entered the soul of Henry: 
 her voice still vibrated on his ears: she 
 withdrew gently her hand, and he turned 
 towards the weeping Elvira, whose su- 
 perior beauty yet wanted the nameless 
 charm that rendered her sister so lovely 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " Forgive me, dear Lady Elvira, for being 
 the cause of this distress. How proudly 
 should I anticipate the honour of calling 
 you sister, did not I feel that my father 
 could never be brought to forgive '/' He 
 stopped suddenly : the deep blush of con- 
 fusion tinged his handsome features : he 
 fell at the feet of Lady Elvira, agitated and 
 embarrassed. 
 
 " Let me not plead in vain,"' said he, 
 taking both her hands, and pressing them
 
 92 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 to his bosom. " Renounce all further in- 
 timacy with my unhappy brother; absolve 
 him from his rash vovy^; and restore him to 
 his own self-esteem, and to the affection 
 of his family.*' 
 
 Lady Elvira hastily dashed away her 
 tears : she cast a look on the elegant 
 figure, the manly and expressive coun- 
 tenance, of Henry, who still knelt at her 
 feet : the angry speech she meditated was 
 forgotten, as her eyes ran over the pleasing 
 person of the younger Fortescue. 
 
 " Rise, 1 entreat,'' said she in a voice 
 softened by tenderness. '' I am convinced 
 of the justness of y9ur reasoning, and wiU 
 endeavour to act according to your wishes^ 
 to gain your good opinion, which I fear 
 I have forfeited by my thoughtless impru- 
 dence. I absolve your brother from his 
 vow : he is free — free from this moment. 
 Your request is granted.'' 
 
 Henry gazed on her beautiful features, 
 now rendered doubly alluring by distress 
 and the softness of her manners. " Poor 
 Sidney," said he, imprinting a kiss on her 
 fair hand, '* how severe the fate that com-
 
 tME SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 93 
 
 pels him to yield to filial love such a 
 form as thine ! Farewell, lovely Lady El- 
 vira: I have already hazarded my own re- 
 pose by this interview. Be firm in your 
 resolution of avoiding my brother, for I 
 feel that the glory of the deed must be 
 your's." Then turning to Lady Angeline, 
 he said in a hurried tone, " Let me not 
 suffer in your opinion by this breach of 
 trust. In disobeying my father I hope I 
 have secured his happiness, the peace of 
 your sister, and that of my unfortunate 
 brother. Should Lady Elvira's tenderness 
 subdue her firmness, be you the guardian 
 angel to remind her of her danger.*' 
 
 Lady Angeline felt the pressure of his 
 hand : she raised her modest eyes : she saw 
 him leap into the boat, and she followed 
 its course with an anxious look, until the 
 trees hid him from her sight : then turning 
 towards her sister a glance of affectionate 
 solicitude, she rose and embraced her. Si-^ 
 ^ently the sisters returned to the Castle^ 
 the same object occupying their thoughts ; 
 and for that day Henry held the pre-
 
 94 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 eminence over his brother in the mind of 
 Lady Elvira. 
 
 Sidney flew to receive his brother, whose 
 absence had appeared an age to his dis* 
 tracted fancy. Henry took his arm, and 
 by degrees acknowledged the motive of 
 his visit, the result of his application. 
 Thunderstruck at the idea of Lady Elvira 
 having abjured all further intimacy with 
 him, Sidney raved at her infidelity, swore 
 to avoid and detest the whole sex, and the 
 next moment burst into tears. 
 
 ** And can she so easily renounce me?*' 
 cried Sidney, in a voice of tenderness — " /, 
 who for Aer sake, would have encountered 
 even the anger, the just indignation of my 
 dear father — I, who would gladly have em- 
 braced death to have been allowed the 
 bliss of calling her mine! Oh! Elvira, 
 faithless, inconstant Elvira ! how weak your 
 attachment, how severe my disappoint- 
 ment, how bitter my anguish!" 
 
 With extreme difficulty Henry brought 
 him to some degree of rationality and com- 
 posure; yet fearing to lose sight of him in
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 95 
 
 the present distracted state of his mind, he 
 kindly dedicated the whole of his time 
 that could be spared from his father to 
 the amusement of his miserable brother. 
 Sidney felt grateful for this attention, 
 while his heart acknowledged that Henry 
 could not have given him a stronger proof 
 of affection than in the interview he had 
 sought with the daughters of the Earl. 
 
 A tedious week, and upwards, had clasp- 
 ed, during which he had never seen . or 
 spoken to the object of his tenderness; and 
 Henry allowed himself to hope that his 
 brother had prudently resolved to yield to 
 the necessity of his circumstances ; he 
 therefore left him for a few days, without 
 any dread of the consequences, business 
 calling him to town. Lord Fortescue ex- 
 pressed a desire that Sidney would remain, 
 unless he particularly wished to accom- 
 pany his brother. 
 
 With secret exultation, Sidney complied 
 with the request of his father, and saw, for 
 the first time, his brother depart with plea- 
 sure. Love still reigned in his bosom 
 with tyrannic force, and every other affec-
 
 96 THE SONS OF THK VISCOUNT. 
 
 tion gave place to that which he felt for 
 Lady Elvira. With trembling eagerness 
 he watched the declining sun, and dreaded 
 lest his father should that evening require 
 his presence. The Viscount, however, as 
 usual, retired early to his chamber, and 
 . Sidney's feet scarcely touched the ground, 
 as he flew to the spot where the boat was 
 
 moored. 
 
 Once more he touched upon the forbid- 
 den shore ; the root-house was, however, 
 empty. Bitterly disappointed, he ventured 
 up the serpentine-walk, which led to a 
 part of the Castle garden. lie was exe-' 
 crating the cruelty of his fate, when he 
 thought he perceived a female figure ad- 
 vancing towards him : from its height h 
 judged it to be Lady Elvira : fearing to 
 alafm her, he retired to one side of the root- 
 house, and trusted to his boat to announce 
 his arrival. 
 
 Thoughtfully the lovely daughter of the 
 Earl advanced: she cast an inquiring look 
 towards the opposite shore, then seeing the 
 boat, she started suddenly, and entered the 
 root-house. In a moment Sidney was at
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 97 
 
 her feet, uttering the most incoherent ex- 
 pressions of inviolable attachment. Thrown 
 off her guard by his unexpected presence, 
 Lady Elvira forgot all her prudent res@- 
 lutions : she raised her lover from his sup- 
 plicating posture, and with a look of irre- 
 sistible tenderness, said, " Are you come, 
 Sidney, to receive from my own lips your 
 freedom ?** 
 
 " Adored Elvira !'' he replied, '' it is 
 not in your power to bestow it. I am 
 your's for life: deign once more to receive 
 my vows of fidelity. Once more let me 
 seal on those lovely lips my bond of will- 
 ing slavery.'' He caught her passionately 
 to his heart : his arms encircled her 
 waist; aHd he felt the throb of her bosom 
 against his own. 
 
 Mutual explanations ensued, and Sidney, 
 ardent and impetuous, conjured her to con- 
 sent to a private marriage, to place it be- 
 yond the power of man to separate them. 
 Lady Elvira remained irresolute in the arms 
 of her lover: the idea of the pain such a 
 step would give her sister inspired her 
 with courage to resist his entreaties^ she 
 
 VOL. I. , F
 
 98 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 reminded him of his brother's recent ad- 
 vice ; and though she did not hesitate to 
 own herself attached to him, yet counselled 
 him to wait patiently until her introduc- 
 tion into life, which was to take place that 
 winter. She would then have frequent 
 opportunities of seeing him, and of con- 
 sulting about the best means of establishing 
 their future happiness. 
 
 " No, Elvira," he replied, " I feel as- 
 sured that unless you consent to become 
 my wife during your residence at the 
 Castle, and while Henry is absent, some 
 fresh obstacle will arise to divide us for 
 ever. At his return, which will be in 
 three days, I shall have no chance of 
 seeing you, unless in his presence; and that 
 is doubtful. Let us not lose the present 
 opportunity, beloved Elvira : on my knees | 
 I conjure you to be mine : do not hesitate, ^ 
 my adored girl : my fate is in your breath, 
 my life at your disposal." Redrew her, 
 faint and trembling, yet still half irresolute, 
 towards him. 
 
 *' Will you be mine, sweetest Elvira? 
 Speak, dearest object of my affections, will
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 99 
 
 you be mine for ever ?" Again he pressed 
 her to his bosom, and at length heard the 
 whispered " yes" with an ecstasy which 
 for a moment seemed to deprive him of his 
 reason'. Recovering from his delirium, it 
 was settled that they should elope the 
 evening before Henry's return ; Sidney 
 promising to be at the root-house as soon 
 as his father had retired for the night ! they 
 were then to cross over to the Abbey 
 grounds, and escape through a private door 
 which led to the high-fdad, where a car- 
 riage should be ready to convey them to 
 Scotland. This could be procured without 
 any suspicion, as he was confident that the 
 fidelity of his servant might be depended 
 upon. 
 
 Thus, without reflection, did these 
 thoughtless and imprudent young lovers 
 rashly determine on a step which was to 
 fix the future happiness of their lives, trust- 
 ing that time and natural affection would 
 subdue the anger of Lord Fortescue, and 
 restore them to his parental embrace. 
 
 F 9
 
 100 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Henry, from some of those secret fore- 
 bodings which frequently are the forerun- 
 ners of evil, hurried the commissions he 
 had to execute, and ordering an additional 
 pair of horses to his carriage, arrived at the 
 Abbey the same night as that fixed on by 
 Sidney for his elopement. Unwilling to 
 disturb his father, he alighted and went 
 round to the private door, intending to 
 climb over it. The first object which met 
 his eyes was the chaise in waiting for his 
 brother: like electricity, the whole truth 
 darted across his mind: it was not too late, 
 however, to save him from destruction, 
 from misery. 
 
 " We shall not want you to-night, my 
 .good lad/' said he, giving the postboy 
 guinea for his trouble. The chaise drov( 
 off, and Henry vaulted over the gate witl
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 101 
 
 the rapidity of lightning, silently thanking 
 heaven, that had sent him so providentially 
 to the rescue of his unthinking brother, 
 though he could not help feeling indignant 
 at his duplicity. Hastily he bent his steps 
 towards the lake, while his heart, for the 
 first time in his life, felt for his brother the 
 emotions of anger. 
 
 By the light of the moon he discovered 
 the boat with the fugitives, and paused for 
 a moment to recover the ascendency over 
 his feelings. It stopped, and Sidney lifted 
 out the trembling Lady Elvira. She cast 
 a look of sorrowful tenderness towards the 
 castle of her ancestors: the distress her 
 elopement would bring on her sister called 
 forth her tears. " Come, my beloved,'' 
 said Sidney, " do not linger here: we may 
 be seen by some one : let us flv, dearest 
 Elvira: love and happiness await us.'* 
 
 *' Rather say remorse, and the curse of a 
 father," cried Henry, stepping forward. 
 " Oh! Sidney, how bitterly have you de- 
 ceived me, how basely betrayed the confi- 
 dence my father reposed in your honour, 
 your integrity!" 
 
 f3
 
 102 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Lady Elvira screamed, and clung to her 
 lover, while he, shocked and surprised by 
 the unexpected appearance of his brother, 
 stood motionless. Henry took the hand 
 of her ladyship: his heart melted at the 
 sight of her tears. 
 
 " Once,^^ said he, " lovely Lady Elvira, 
 you condescended to listen to my advice ; 
 you promised to follow it : but the plead- 
 ings of this rash young man have drawn you 
 into the commission of an act your deli-^ 
 cacy, your pride will revolt at, as soon as 
 reason resumes her empire in your mind. 
 Suffer me to lead you back to the Castle ; 
 suffer me to be the guardian of your ho- 
 nour, of your peace." Lad}' Elvira gave 
 him both her hands. 
 
 *' By what authority, Sir," angrily de- 
 manded Sidney, " do you dare to thw^arj; 
 xny intentions ? By what right do you pre- 
 sume to withdraw Lady Elvira from my 
 protection ?" He snatched her to his 
 bosom. " Oh! listen to your brother," 
 cried her ladyship. " Let us return, dearest 
 Sidney: heaven frowns upon our union : 
 let us return," said she, throwing herself 
 into the open arms of Henry,
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 103 
 
 Sidney stamped his feet on the ground 
 in an agony of passion, and again demanded 
 how he dared to interfere with the actions 
 of his elder brother. He attempted to take 
 the trembling beauty from his arms, and 
 swore that no mortal power, not even the 
 Viscount, should rob him of her hand. 
 ** Adored Elvira! will you too abandon me 
 to despair? The chaise is waiting: let not 
 the preachings of this over-dutiful sod 
 weigh against my fond affection.** 
 
 " The chaise is dismissed,'* coolly re- 
 plied Henry. " It is my duty. Sir, to act 
 a brother*s part by Lady Elvira : your 
 selfish love would entail rnisery on her 
 innocent, confiding heart, and teach her to 
 believe that the endearments of connubial 
 bliss would vainly silence the just up- 
 braidings of a guilty conscience. You, 
 Sir, may act as you please, but it is my 
 determination to return immediately with 
 Lady Elvira to the Castle : she has ho- 
 noured me by accepting my protection, 
 and I will not resign her until I can leave 
 her in safety.** He then conveyed her 
 into the boat, and Sidney followed, choaked 
 
 F 4
 
 104- THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 with indignation, and mortified by the as- 
 cendency his brother had gained over the 
 mind of his adored. 
 
 The agitation which Lady Elvira had 
 betrayed on quitting the Castle to take 
 her accustomed moonlight *walk was no- 
 ticed by her sister :• she felt surprised that 
 she had not been asked to accompany her ; 
 and on her aunt's inquiring why she suf- 
 fered her sister to go alone, she rose with a 
 strange sort of feeling, wishing, yet dreading, 
 to follqw her. Throwing a long white veil 
 over her slender figure, she hastened to the 
 place of their evening's retirement. Lady 
 Elvira had, however, flown to the banks of 
 the lake, where her lover anxiously was 
 waiting to receive her ; and Lady Angeline 
 arrived at the root-house just in time to 
 catch a glimpse of the receding boat which 
 contained them. 
 
 The hand of death seemed to press upon 
 her heart: she had just sufl?icient strength 
 . to stagger into the root-house, and sink 
 insensible on one of the seats by the win- 
 dow. The air, which blew full on her face, 
 recovered her to life and a sense of the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 105 
 
 loss she had sustained. Rising slowly, she 
 cast her tearful eyes towards the lake, and 
 thought she perceived something moving 
 on its surface. Wiping away her tears, 
 it became more distinct: uttering a scream 
 of grateful joy, she sunk on her knees, and 
 raising her hands to heaven, breathed forth 
 a prayer of thanks. 
 
 The boat drew near: in an instant the 
 sisters were locked in each other's arms. 
 Lady Elvira took the hand of her sister 
 and gave it to Henry : immediately un- 
 derstanding her, Lady Angeline pressed 
 .his hand to her lips. '' You have restored 
 to me my beloved Elvira; you have saved 
 her from misery and fruitless repentance. 
 How can 1 express my sense of the deep 
 obligation you have laid me under, an ob- 
 ligation which my whole life will be unable 
 to repay?'' 
 
 Her feelings, animated by the warm gra- 
 titude of her heart, heightened the interest- 
 ing loveliness of her person. Henry gazed 
 in silent admiration on the elegant form and 
 speaking eyes of Lady Angeline, until the 
 sound of her melodious voice recalled his 
 
 F 6
 
 106 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT* 
 
 wandering senses. " I must remain for evfer ^ 
 your debtor, Mr. Fortescue/' said she, blush- 
 ing deeply, /' for 1 feel that I ean never ex- 
 presshalf thegratitude,the — '* Shestoppedr i 
 her blushes increased. Henry pressed her 
 Jittle soft hand to his heart, then carried it 
 to his lips in expressive silence ; while 
 Sidney, sullen and angry, leaned against 
 the door of the root-house. Lady Elvira 
 offered to draw him from his leaning-ptace, 
 but he turned resentfully from her : she 
 burst into tears, and quitted him. Sidney,: 
 subdued, followed her, and tenderly throw- 
 ing his arms around her, besought her 
 pardon. 
 
 *' Let me then see you, dearest Sidney, 
 cast off this angry humour : o^o to your 
 brother; we have much to thank him for: 
 dear Sidney, it is our happiness that he is 
 seeking. Oh ! do not look so angry,*' she 
 continued, hiding her face on the shoulder 
 of her incensed lover. - 
 
 " Dear Mr. Fortescue,*' cried Lady 
 Angeline, taking his hand, and offering tai 
 place it in that of Henry, " let me have the] 
 pleasure of seeing you friends, of seeing]
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 107 
 
 you convinced that he has rendered you 
 the most essential service. His brotherly 
 affection, his fiiiafl love, should call forth 
 your admiration and praise, not your re- 
 sentment.*' 
 
 " It is easy for him to boast of filial obe- 
 dience,*' scornfully replied Sidney, " when 
 the commands of my father have never in- 
 terfered with his happiness. On the eve of 
 marrying a beautiful woman, with the con- 
 sent of his whole family, he coolly blasts 
 all my promised joys, and in the possession 
 of his heart's dearest wishes robs me of 
 mine, and talks of duty and obedience.'*' 
 
 Lady Angeline let fall his hand : a sud- 
 den faintness came over her, and she felt a 
 deathlike sickness steal upon her: drawing 
 her veil over her face, she reseated herself, 
 and saw not the pallid hue which over- 
 spread the countenance of Henry : a deep 
 red succeeded. 
 
 '* Sidney,*' he cried, in a voice of unu- 
 sual warmth, "^ you judge of me by your 
 own heart. It is not my character to ar- 
 rogate to myself any merit whicii I do not 
 possess : ungrateful as you are, a time wilt
 
 108 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 cpme when you will be convinced that in 
 my present conduct 1 consulted your 
 peace more than my own. Time also 
 may discover that my filial veneration for 
 my excellent father, my solicitude to obey 
 his desires, to gratify his wishes, and those 
 of my family, were deserving of something 
 more from my brother than contempt.** 
 Strongly agitated, he walked to the door 
 of the root-house to recover his compo- 
 sure. 
 
 Sidney cast a look towards him : he saw 
 his arm upxaised, and beheld hrm wipe 
 away the tear of anguish. All his affec- 
 tion revived: he flung himself at his bro- 
 ther's feet. *' Forgive me, Henry: lac- 
 knowledge my errors, my ingratitude: you 
 were born my superior in eveiy thing, and 
 will remain so.*' Henry hastily raised and 
 affectionately embraced him. " Dearest 
 Sidney, say no more. 1 knew^ your gene- 
 rous nature would not long continue under 
 the dominion of passion.'* Then leading J 
 him tow^ards the eldest daughter of the 
 Earl: — " Your beauty alone," said he, 
 ** lovely Lady Elvira, possesses th^ power'
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 109 
 
 to mislead the judgment and fascinate the 
 senses of my brother. Oh ! let me hope 
 that some favourable circumstance may 
 occur to soften the mind of my father. 
 Chance may bring you this winter into 
 his presence, and heaven may kindly in- 
 spire him with feelings congenial to those 
 of his sons." 
 
 Sidney pressed the weeping Lady Elvira 
 to his bosom, and repeated his promise of 
 fidelity ; while Henry, taking the hand of 
 her sister, felt an agitation he could not 
 conceal, as he said, " Deeply do I regret 
 the fatal cause which has broken asunder 
 those bonds of friendship and love which 
 formerly united our families. Notwith- 
 standing the solemn prohibition of my in- 
 jured parent — notwithstanding my own 
 determination to abide by his commands; 
 yet, amiable Lady Angeline, I would fain 
 possess a share of your esteem.*' 
 
 " Your filial duty,'* modestly replied 
 the youngest daughter of the Earl, " has 
 increased the respect, the admiration, 
 which your brother's praises first gave 
 birth to. The obligation you have laid
 
 110 THE SONS OF THE VISCOtJNT. 
 
 me under, as well as my whole family, 
 by your conduct, your firmness, of to- 
 night, calls for more than esteem. — A 
 grateful heart, Mr. Fortescue, will not 
 fail to own itself your debtor. We may 
 never meet again ; but, trust me, you will 
 never be forgotten.** 
 
 The sudden recollection of an absent 
 fair checked the prompt reply of Henry ; 
 and silently imprinting on her soft white 
 hand a respectful kiss, he reminded his 
 brother that it was time for them to de- 
 part. Sidney *s resolution gave way, as he 
 remembered that on the same spot his 
 father had bade an eternal adieu to the 
 sister of Lord de Courei ; and his own 
 heart seemed to say, that in quitting the 
 beautiful niece of the innocent Lady 
 Emma, he was making a similar sacrifice. 
 Again ,^ and again, they embraced, pro- 
 mising to live only for each other ; and 
 Henry, softened by his own feelings, and 
 the distress of the lovers, with difficulty 
 tore his brother from the arms of the 
 weeping beauty. 
 
 ^* Something tells rae that my fate i«
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. Ill 
 
 now decided," said Sidney, as he returned 
 to the Abbey garden. " My heart is not 
 apt to deceive me in its warnings. Elvira 
 and I have parted for ever." He leaned 
 on his brother, who sincerely sympathized 
 in his distress. " Pity me,", he conti- 
 nued, " dearest Henry ; imagine, for a 
 moment, that you were separated for ever 
 from Lucinda ; what would be your suf- 
 ferings, your agonies ! Oh ! you would 
 not then avow so firmly that a father's 
 blessing could make amends for such a 
 loss." 
 
 " You are well aware,'^ replied his 
 brother, with emotion, " that my ideas of 
 the reverence due to the command;s of a 
 parent are irrevocable. I am no vain- 
 boaster, Sidney ; on the contrary, I am 
 myself an example that I do not profess 
 more than I perform. My father gave me 
 life ; but that was the least of his gifts. 
 From infancy up to the present day, how 
 sedulously has he sought to secure my 
 happiness 1 — if he has failed, the fault is in 
 my own wayward heart, not his paternal 
 love. His precepts, his examples, are
 
 112 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 constantly before my eyes ; nor can I evef 
 repay him for those years of anxiety, 
 which every father, like himself, must 
 endure until the true character and prin- 
 ciples of his child are firmly fixed." 
 
 " Do you defend the hatred he ex- 
 presses for the innocent daughters of Lord 
 de Courci ?" inquired Sidney. 
 
 *' It is not for me to pass censure on a 
 parent," replied Henry: " his injuries 
 were great : in every other instance, his 
 nature is charitable, forgiving, and bene- 
 volent. You also forget, Sidney^ that by 
 the dishonour brought on our house by the 
 perfidy of Lord De Courci my father was 
 compelled to sacrifice to the dignity of 
 his family the woman he adored. You, 
 Sidney, ought, in particular, to make al- 
 lowances for theresentment of our father," 
 
 *' I ought to be every thing but what I 
 am,*' said Sidney. " I would not wil- 
 fully occasion my father a moment's pain ; 
 I 'would not prove unworthy of your af- 
 fection : but vain are my resolves to act a» 
 you advise me. As soon as I determine to 
 .do right, the matchless beauty of Elvira
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 113 
 
 comes across my mind, and puts to flight 
 every prudent resolution." 
 
 " She is, indeed, beautiful,'* replied 
 his brother; '' but I think, if I maybe 
 allowed to give my opinion, that her sister 
 is far, far more interesting. The delicacy 
 of her manner, the purity of her mind, the 
 tenderness of her heart, are visible in the 
 changeful expression of her charming 
 countenance. She seems a woman to at- 
 tach a man of taste and domestic feelings 
 to herself for life. The voluptuous beauty 
 of the enchanting Lady Elvira inspires 
 you with passion ; but the chastened love- 
 liness of her sister steals into the soul, and 
 takes firm hold of all the best affections 
 of the heart." 
 
 Sidney was too much engrossed by his 
 *own misfortunes to notice the warmth of 
 his brother's expressions. Mournfully 
 he once again entered the mansion of the 
 Viscount, which a few hours before he 
 had so rashly determined to quit, perhaps 
 for ever. In passing the little parlour of 
 the housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson made a 
 motion as if she wished to speak to them.
 
 114 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNt. 
 
 They entered, and she carefully closed 
 the door. 
 
 " Excuse me/' said she, ** my dear 
 young masters, I mean not to offend ; but 
 I fear something has displeased my Lord, 
 He had not retired to his chamber many 
 minutes, before he desired Robarts to tell 
 Mr. Sidney that he wanted him. Not 
 finding you. Sir, in the house or garden, 
 my Lord concluded that you were gone on 
 the lake ; and in about an hour after dis- 
 patched Robarts in quest of you again ; 
 who, seeing Mr. Henry's man, knew that 
 3'ou, Sir, were returned. My Lord ap- 
 peared surprised, and wondered what could 
 detain you both so late on the water. Ro- 
 barts told me that he walked up and down 
 the room very thoughtfully ; and desired 
 that on your return you might both attend 
 him. I beg pardon, but I thought it best, 
 perhaps, to apprize you that the Viscount 
 is not well pleased.*' 
 
 The brothers thanked her for her kind- 
 ness, and with heavy hearts ascended the 
 stairs to the apartments of Lord Fortescue. 
 He was still pacing his chamber, while the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 115 
 
 gloom of bis countenance indicated that all 
 was not right within. Henry accounted 
 for his return in a manner which appeared 
 to satisfy his father, who, turning suddenly 
 round to Sidney, said, " I wished to have 
 you read to me to-night ; but it seems that 
 you were in great haste to leave the Ab- 
 bey, to enjoy, I suppose, your accustomed 
 amusement on the lake." 
 
 Sidney coloured deeply as he met the 
 penetrating glance of his father, and felt 
 confused and abashed in his presence, 
 *' I have been thinking,*' continued the 
 Viscount, still looking at his eldest son, 
 *' that our residence here is no longer 
 necessary : every thing is in a forward 
 train of improvement ; and Mrs. Thomson's 
 inspection will now be sufficient. You, 
 Sidney, will rejoice to hear that I mean to 
 go to Town to-morrow : the retirement 
 and solitude of this place but ill agrees 
 with your versatile nature. I have ob- 
 served that lately you have lost much of 
 your vivacity ; therefore, to-morrow, my 
 sons, I expect you will accompany me to 
 London,"
 
 116 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 ** To-morrow, my lord !*' said Sid- 
 ney, in a voice of surprise and mortifica- 
 tion. 
 
 " I thought you would be agreeably 
 astonished," replied his lordship, " Our 
 five weeks' residence at the Abbey has 
 been a sad trial of your patience^ Sidney : 
 to-morrow you shall be released from the 
 monotony of this place. You, Henry, j 
 will of course join your sister and Lucinda * 
 at General Aveland's, and wait to escort 
 them back to Town, while Sidney will 
 accompany me to Lord Rainsford*s.'* He 
 then dismissed them for the night, and 
 rang for Robarts to attend him. 
 
 This man was born in the family of the 
 Viscount, and had, from a boy, been the ^ 
 particular favourite of the present LordlFor- 
 tescue : to his kindness he was indebted j 
 for a good common education : and, when ^ 
 old enough, he became the chief attendant 
 on his person, and frequently the faithful 
 confidant of his sorrows. On the honest 
 and affectionate bosom of Robarts the 
 Viscount had often poured forth the ago- jj 
 nized emotions of his soul, had often shed
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. ll? 
 
 tears of bitter recollection, as the sweet 
 form of Emma De Courci presented itself 
 to his imagination, and called forth feelings 
 which were unlcnown to all but this af- 
 fectionate domestic. 
 
 Every tear, every sigh, of the Viscount 
 were seen and heard by Robarts with cor- 
 responding emotion. He, also, had been 
 a sufferer by the baseness of Lord De 
 Courci ; and though born of parents hum- 
 ble in life, yet possessed a heart and spirit 
 that would have dignified a coronet. The 
 young woman who was the waiting-maid 
 of Lady Emma possessed the affections 
 of Robarts : she returned his passion with 
 modest tenderness ; and Robarts was to 
 have received the hand of Phoebe Meynel 
 on the same day that his master's nuptials 
 were to have been celebrated with her 
 mistress. The unfortunate termination of 
 that affair made Robarts an equal sufferer 
 with his lord. Their sudden departure 
 from the Abbey for ever divided Phoebe 
 from her lover. She followed the fortunes 
 of her gentle and unoffending mistress, and
 
 118 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 he devoted himself to the sorrows of the 
 Viscount. 
 
 Two-and-twenty years had passed, and 
 Robarts continued single : he had never 
 loved but one w^oman, and that was Phoebe 
 Meynel : his constancy remained un- 
 shaken, his fidehty unchanged ; and poor 
 Robarts, on once more returning to the 
 scenes of his youthful happiness, expe- 
 rienced sensations as keen, as bitter, as 
 those which similar remembrances gave 
 rise to in the heart of his lord. It is true, 
 he knew not the pangs of wounded honour, 
 nor the stings of misplaced friendship ; but 
 his bosom throbbed with the recollection 
 of his blighted affection, and his eyes 
 filled with tears, as he gazed upon the walls 
 of the castle that once had been her resi- 
 dence. The banks of the lake, and its 
 picturesque scenery, w^ere shunned by the 
 Viscount ; w^ho, if by chance his eye 
 glanced towards the opposite shore, felt 
 alone the keen sense of his injuries. In 
 his mind it chiefly revived the hatred 
 which he bore the late Earl ; while poor
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 119 
 
 Robarts loved to wander on its verdant 
 lawn, and gaze with swimming eyes and 
 bursting heart on the spot once inhabited 
 by his Phoebe; yet he never could be 
 brought to curse the author of his own and 
 his master^s misery.
 
 120 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 CHAPTER Aa. 
 
 When Robarts attended the summons 
 of the Viscount, he perceived that his 
 countenance still bore the traces of a dis- 
 turbed mind. " Come hither/' said his 
 lordship : " sit down, my faithful Robarts. 
 You have never betrayed the confidence of 
 your lord : you are more worthy of the 
 sacred title of friend than any of my 
 equals." 
 
 Robarts bowed respectfully, and placed 
 himself near his master. " Tell me,*' 
 continued the Viscount, " have you since 
 our residence here seen the daughters of 
 the Earl ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord ; I have seen them 
 sometimes in their pleasure-boat on 
 the lake." 
 
 " On the lake !" replied his lordship 
 starting from his chair ; *' my suspicions
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 121 
 
 then are not groundless. Why, Robarts 
 did you not inform me of this circum- 
 stance ?'* 
 
 •' Because, my lord, I was unwilling to 
 give you pain, by mentioning the name of 
 that family." 
 
 "J believe you, my honest fellow. Oh 1 
 that every heart was as careful of my re- 
 pose as thine! Robarts, I am more wretched 
 than ever. Nay, start not. I have a strange 
 presentiment that more sorrow is in store 
 for me, through the medium of that hated 
 family. I have observed a manifest change 
 in the looks and manners of my eldest son. 
 1 ormerly his vivacity used sometimes to 
 oppress me ; now he is grown thoughtful 
 and pensive : his eyes no longer sparkle, 
 but at the approach of evening, when he 
 seeks amusement on the lake. Heavens ! 
 should a son of mine possess so dege- 
 nerate a soul as to forget the injury done 
 his father, and become enslaved by the 
 beauty of a daughter of De Courci, I 
 think my just resentment would prompt 
 me to disinherit him, to make him for 
 ever an alien to my love/' 
 
 TOL. I. G
 
 If2 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 The tears stood in the eyes of Robarts, 
 who gazed at the Viscount as he walked 
 up and down the apartment. He came 
 and laid his hand on the shoulder of Robarts. 
 ** Have you been near enough to discern 
 plainly their features? Are they handsome? 
 Are they at all like—** 
 
 ** Yes, my lord, they are indeed beau- 
 tiful : the youngest is very like what Lady, 
 Emma was at her age." 
 
 Lord Fortescue started, gave a tieep 
 sigh, and sinking into a chair, covered his 
 face with both hands, to conceal the emo- 
 tion the sudden mention of a name once 
 so beloved occasioned. 
 
 *' 1 fear you are unwell, my lord," said 
 his affectionate domestic. " Shall I fetch 
 you some drops ?** 
 
 ** No, Robarts ; no, my good fellow : I 
 am better now. I meant were they like 
 their detested father. Ti"»€ youngest you 
 say is lovely, is divinely fair. Oh ! Sidney, 
 my son, my son, why did I bring you into 
 so great a temptation ? Why put your obe- 
 dience to so severe a test?** He paused, 
 and poor Robarts, whose mind at that
 
 The so^s or the viscount. 123 
 
 moment was full of his lost Phoebe, was 
 unconscious of his situation, until he 
 heard himself again addressed by his lord. 
 
 " To-morrow, Robarts, I shall set off 
 for London. I almost fear my precaution 
 comes too late; yet it is imprudent as 
 well as unnecessary to remain here any 
 longer. It was requisite that I should 
 visit the Abbe}- before Henry brings his 
 bride to the estate : but the reluctance I 
 felt to enter its peaceful walls seems now 
 to be more fully accounted for. I shall, 
 however, keep my suspicions from Sidney. 
 God grant they maybe without founda- 
 tion ! if otherwise, absence, and a return 
 to his former lively pursuits, will I trust b© 
 of more service than any advice of mine." 
 
 *' I think, my lord, I can answer for 
 Mr. Sidney's affectionate obedience to 
 your commands. He would not intention- 
 ally give you uneasiness, I am certain.*' 
 
 " Not intentionally I believe, Robarts ; 
 but he is so thoughtless, so excessively 
 volatile, that he often calls forth the sigh of 
 parental anxiety for his future happiness. 
 I should rejoice to see him settled in life, 
 
 G 2
 
 124- THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 were he bat as steady, as domestic, 
 as Henry: but his unreflective mind 
 I dreads lest he should form some hasty 
 connection, which may embitter his future 
 years." 
 
 " Oh! my' dear lord,*' said his humble 
 confidant, " do not make yourself unhappy 
 about Mr. Sidney : he will never act in 
 opposition to your wishes. He may be 
 more lively than prudent, but he has one 
 of the best hearts in the world : there is 
 not a servant in your lordship's family but 
 would die to serve him. For myself, beg- 
 ging your pardon, my lord, I could not 
 love him better if he were my oWn son." 
 
 " My good fellow, I know well your at- 
 tachment to me and inine : I respect your 
 feeling^s and mv son's honour too much 
 to Avish you to be a spy over his actions ; 
 but ^should any thing come to your know- 
 ledge concerning the intimacy which I 
 suspect he has formed with that family, 
 I shall expect, Robarts, that your fidelity 
 to me will continue unshaken ; I shall ex- 
 pect that you make me instantly ac- 
 quainted with a subject in which the peace
 
 tHE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 195 
 
 of your master and the dignity of his 
 house is so intimately connected.*' 
 
 Robarts bowed in token of obedience ; 
 but the heart ill agreed with the move- 
 ment of the head. Fondly attached to his 
 young masters, and to Sidney in particu- 
 lar, whose gay, good humour, always called 
 forth the smile of pleasure from the affec- 
 tionate Robarts ; he felt, therefore, that it 
 would be much easier for him to die than 
 betray any little foible of his favourite. 
 He retired from the presence of the Vis- 
 count, conscious that for once in his life 
 it would be impossible to obey his com- 
 mands. The brothers, on quitting the 
 chamber of their father, were at first too 
 much surprised by his sudden resolution 
 of leaving the Abbey to make any remark. 
 Sidney followed Henry into his apartments»_ 
 and throwing hiriiselfon a couch, seemed 
 lost to every thing that surrounded him; 
 while his brother, more composed, though 
 not less perplexed, was placing some things 
 in readiness for his man to pack up. 
 
 *' You see,*' cried Sidney, in reproachful 
 accents, '' that my prophetic fears were 
 
 G 3
 
 196 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 just. My heart told me that if I lost th# 
 opportunity of this evening Elvira would 
 never be mine. My father's hasty depar- 
 ture can only be accounted for by his sus- 
 pecting my attachment, else why should 
 he so pointedly address himself to me?" 
 
 " 1 fear, indeed, that my father has better 
 grounds for his removal than those he 
 mentioned,*' replied Henry; " but, my dear 
 Sidney, it is evident that the Viscount 
 does not mean to tax you with your im- 
 prudence : you will, at least, be spared 
 the shame, the humiliation of hearing your- 
 self accused of having braved his just 
 displeasure." 
 
 " Elvira is lost to me for ever!" said 
 Sidney, covering bis face to conceal the i 
 tears of tenderness which filled his eyes* 
 *' You, Henry, have reason to rejoice at 
 our going to Town : you will enjoy the 
 society of Lucinda some wrecks earlier than 
 you expected. You are flymg to the arms 
 of a beloved object, of one who is soon to 
 become your wife, while I am suddenly i 
 torn from myheart*s dearest treasure, forced 
 io quit the Abbey, without seeing, with-
 
 XME SONS OP THE VISCOtJNT, lt7 
 
 out telling her the cause which has so has- 
 tily separated us : but I will write to 
 her/' said he, starting from his seat : "that, 
 at least, is left me to perform : that, Henry, 
 even your filial love will not deny me." 
 
 His brother cast a look of tender con- 
 cern on the agitated Sidney, who sat down 
 to convey to his beloved the unwelcome 
 intelligence of his departure. When he 
 had finished, he caught up a volume of Ita- 
 lian poetry, which lay on the table, and 
 placing the letter within its cover, sealed 
 up the book, and directed it to Lady Elvira 
 De Courci. 
 
 ^' This," said he, '* 1 can get Mrs. Thom- 
 son to give Elvira, without exciting her 
 suspicion, or putting her fidelity to my 
 father to the test. I must leave the rest to 
 heaven, and trust that this winter will 
 again bring her to my fond embrace. You 
 are silent, Henry : have you no words of 
 comfort for your unhappy brother?" 
 
 '' Dearest Sidney!" replied the affecti- 
 onate Henry, " you little think how com- 
 pletely you fill my heart and mind. You 
 little dream that perhaps I am not so
 
 1$S THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 much the object of envy as you imagine." 
 Sidney hastily raised his eyes : he saw the 
 fine features of his brother crimsoned with 
 the most vivid red : he saw his mild and 
 beautiful e3'e dimmed with tears. lie 
 pressed him to his bosom. 
 
 *' My Henry, what do you mean.^ Can 
 there be on earth a more enviable object 
 than the man, who, blest with the consent 
 of his father and his family, is on the eve 
 of being united to the woman of his choice.^ 
 My brother, my beloved Henry, you trem- 
 ble, you turn from me. Unworthy as I am, 
 I dare not inquire the cause of your emo- 
 tion." 
 
 Henry, recovering his presence of mind, 
 returned the embrace of his brother with 
 increased affection. " My agitation was 
 momentary,'* said he : " the society of Lu- 
 cinda will restore me to myself. My un- 
 cle's partiality made him desirous that the 
 happiness of his child should be committed 
 to my care. My dear father's heart was 
 also fixed upon the match : and 1 flatter 
 myself that my cousin will have no reason 
 to complain of their choice. But, Siduev,
 
 THE SONS OF THE TISCOUNT. 199 
 
 perhaps you had better intrust that parcel 
 to the care of Mrs. Thomson to-night: to- 
 morrow you may not have an opportunity, 
 fori think the Viscount means to setoff 
 
 early/' 
 
 Sidney at that moment thought only of 
 the emotion he had witnessed in his bro- 
 ther ; and as a variety of apprehensions filled, 
 his mind, he had forgotten his own dis- 
 dressing situation. Roused by the warning 
 ©f Henry, he rose, and taking the volume, 
 he descended to the housekeeper's apart- 
 ment. The lateness of the hour precluded 
 all hope of his being able to behold once 
 more the daughter of the Earl. He was 
 unacquainted with the situation of her 
 chamber, and was therefore compelled to 
 rest satisfied with the promises of Mrs. 
 Thomson, who assured him that she would, 
 watch for their appearance on the lake, to 
 give Lady Elvira the book,. 
 
 *' I shall trust to your word,** said Sid- 
 Bey,** and likewise to your kindness in not 
 mentioning it to the Viscount. You are 
 well acquainted, dear Mrs. Thomson, with 
 nay father's resentment to that family. Tl e
 
 ISO THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 book belongs to a set which Lady Elvira 
 has great value for/* 
 
 Mrs. Thomson again repeated her assur* 
 anees of faithfully delivering it into the 
 hands of her ladyship, and roncluC'*»d by 
 lamenting bitterly that the hatred of her 
 lord deprived his sons of such sweet soci- 
 ety as that the Castle afforded. " Ah f 
 Sir," said she, '* 1 once thought that I 
 should never have been able myself to 
 bear the sight of a child belonging to Lord 
 De Courci : but as soon as- 1 had seen the 
 young ladies, and^ heard them speak, I 
 could not help loving them. Oh ! how I 
 wish that Mr. Henry's bride may be as 
 affable, as sweet tempered as Lady Elvira !*' 
 Sidney could have hugged hei:^ for this, 
 speech : and had she been some years 
 younger, it is more, than probable that he 
 would not have contented himself with & 
 simple squeeze of the hand. " My dear 
 Mrs. Thomson," said he, '' Lady Elvira is 
 indeed an angel, and deserves everybody's 
 regard/ You will be delighted, neverthe- 
 less, with my cousin, who is one of the 
 best tempered girls in the world, only a
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 131 
 
 little too giddy to remain long at the Ab- 
 bey : she ought to have been my wife 
 instead of Henry's, for she is just such 
 another rattlebrain as myself.'" 
 
 "God bless you, Sir," cried Mrs.. Thom- 
 son, warmly, " I hope I shall see you bring 
 a wife of your own to the old Abbey. 
 Strange things come to pass, and I know 
 what 1 know. I only wish my lord could 
 be brought to look upon Lady Elvira : her 
 beautiful face would rob, him of all his- 
 anger." 
 
 Sidney again squeezed the hand of the 
 goodnatured housekeeper, and retired to 
 his chamber, full of the hopes and wishes 
 of a lover. It was well for him that he had 
 taken his brother's advice ; for Lard For- 
 tescue so contrived as tO; have MiOi by his 
 side until the hour of departure : and Sid- 
 ney,who anxiously longed to take one more 
 look at the Castle, vt as obliged to quit the 
 Abbey without receiving that gratification. 
 He, however, contrived to give Mrs. 
 Thomson a glance of remembrance, whicb 
 she understood, and returned.. 
 
 During the journey, thjg Viscount wa»
 
 132 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 particularly conversable. He appeared to 
 receive fresh spirits, as the carriage brought 
 them nearer and nearer to London ; and 
 Sidney, to whom his discourse was prin- 
 cipally directed, felt, from the kindness of 
 his father, unexpected relief. His disposi- 
 tion, naturally volatile, did not tuffer him 
 long to dwell on melancholy subjects, and 
 by the time they reached his lordship's 
 town-house, he had planned in his own 
 mind various schemes to renew his inti- 
 macy with the fascinating daughter of the 
 Earl. 
 
 In th<5 solitude of her own apartment,. 
 Lady Elvira had leisure to reflect upon the 
 impropriety of her conduct, and the proba- 
 ble misery from which she had been rescu- 
 ed by the prudence and firmness of the 
 younger Fortescue. But for his^ timely ap- 
 pearance she would now have been on the 
 road to Scotland : and though she enter- 
 tained no doubts of Sidney's constancy, 
 yet she began to believe that it was possi- 
 ble his father would not so easily be brought 
 to forgive so striking an act of disobedience 
 in his son. Her uncle ^ Lord De Courci,
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 133 
 
 who was likevvise her guardian, and had 
 unlimitted power over her until she be- 
 came of age, might justly resent her dis- 
 j>osing of herself without his consent ; and, 
 what was still worse, to the son of a man 
 with whom her father and himself had lived 
 in enmity. She therefore comforted herself 
 for the disappointment her heart had re- 
 ceived by feeling assured that her intended 
 elopement was. unknown to her aunt; and 
 with a hope that time might bring about 
 their union, under more favouiable au- 
 spices. 
 
 She felt, however, surprised that Sidney 
 did not make any attempt towards another 
 interview, and judged that the persuasion 
 of his more prudent brother had prevailed,. 
 A fortnight and upwards elapsed, and her 
 anxiety became painful. They had been pre- 
 vented taking their usual diversion on the 
 lake by the unsettled state of the weather ; 
 and Lady Elvira, who-became restless and 
 unhappy, at length prevailed upon her sis- 
 ter to accompany her the first fine evening 
 on the water, hoping to see the object o£ 
 her solicitude. 
 
 She directed her boat as close as she dare
 
 1J4 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 to the Abbey shore. The form she ardent- 
 ly desired was not there : for an hour and 
 a half, she passed and repassed the mansion 
 of the Viscount. Tears of affection and 
 disappointment rolled down her cheek, and 
 she was on the point of returning, when she 
 espied Mrs. Thomson coming hastily to- 
 wards the boat.^ 
 
 " My dear ladies, 1 have been so wishing 
 to see you ! This nasty wet weather, how it 
 ha& vexed me! I have been so desirous to 
 perform the promise I gave to Mr. Sidney : 
 poor dear young gentleman, he could not 
 give it you himself." 
 
 She then presented the little packet to 
 Lady Elvira, who, as she took it from the 
 housekeeper, felt a sudden trembling come 
 over her, which obliged her to lean for sup- 
 port on her sister. 
 
 " I am quite easy now I have given it 
 into your ladyship's own hand. Mr. Sid- 
 ney begged me, for my life, to convey it 
 safely to your ladyship, for he said you had 
 a great value for the book. For my part I 
 cannot think what could possess my lord 
 to set off for Town in such a hurry." 
 
 *' Have the family left the Abbey? 
 
 »i
 
 THE SONS OF tHE VISCOUNT. 155 
 
 faintly inquired Lady Elvira. Her trem- 
 bling increased by this unexpected intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 '* Lord love vour beautiful face,'* said 
 Mrs. Thomson^ eyeing her with evident 
 pleasure, '^ howl wish the Viscount could 
 but see you now! Well,. well, who knows 
 what may happen yet. Yes, my lady, they 
 are all gone, and in such baste that we had 
 no idea of any such a thing. My lord sat 
 up until his sons returned the last night 
 they were on the lake;, and I fancy they 
 were as surprised as myself to hear that 
 he was a going ia towa next day. Af- 
 ter the Queen '^s birth-day we shall have 
 them home again : for then Mr. Henry will 
 bring his bride to the Abbey/* 
 
 *'' It blows chill, Elvira," said Lady 
 Angeline : " we had better return.'* " Will 
 your ladyships please to alight, 'and sit half 
 an hour in my little parlour ? The old Ab- 
 bey looks quite cheerful again ; it is under- 
 going a complete repair, and puts me ia 
 mind of dayt long since gone by.'* 
 
 ** We will come and see you, my good 
 Mrs. Thomson, iiva few days: but we can-
 
 136 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 not stay now. The evenings begin to be 
 almost too dark for the lake. God bless 
 you!'* cried Lady Elvira, pushing off the 
 boat. 
 
 " And God bless you both/* repeated 
 Mrs. Thomson, *' for you are two sweet 
 creatures ; and I wish I know what. Well 
 well, we shall see,** continued she, return- 
 ing back to the Abbey, " we shall see^ 
 Alice Thomson is a bit of a prophetess.* 
 
 Whatever Alice Thomson might be, it 
 is certain that in her heart she as fervently^ 
 wished to see Lady Elvira the wife of Sid- 
 ney as he did himself. In her youtli, she 
 had early felt the passion of love ; and 
 though it may be supposed that the hum- 
 bleness of her station in. life had saved her 
 from every obstacle toward the attainment 
 of her heart's dearest wishes, yet" Alice waa 
 compelled to wait patiently, until she, as 
 well as^ Thomson, had saved sufficient to. 
 enable them to begin housekeeping. When- 
 their mutual attachment was made known, 
 to the father of the presen t Viscount, his lady: 
 and her children all contributed towards 
 stocking a little farm for Thomson, and.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 13/ 
 
 even aftertheir union continued their kind- 
 ness. Poor Alice had the severe misfortune 
 to loi^e her husband in the second year after 
 her marriage ; and having no child to sooth 
 her distress for his loss, she returned into 
 the Viscount's family, where she had re- 
 sided ever since, faithfully discharging her 
 duty in every respect, except in carrying 
 on latterly an intimacy with the daughters 
 of Earl De Courci. 
 
 The sudden change which had taken 
 place in the gay and volatile Sidney did not 
 escap the penetration of Dame Thomson. 
 She observed his eagerness when the time 
 arrived which was spent on the lake ; and 
 remembered, with a sigh, that her own heart 
 had experienced similar feelings as the hour 
 drew near which used to bring to her 
 arms her beloved Thomson. Not doubting 
 for a moment but that her young masters 
 had frequently seen the lovely daughters of 
 the Earl, she sat it down for a fixed thing 
 that Mr. Sidney was desperately in love 
 with the beautiful Lady Elvira, and he had 
 at least her good- wishes and prayers for the 
 success of his passion.
 
 138 THE SONS Of* THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 Trembling with expectation, Lady El- 
 vira on her return to the Castle opened 
 the parcel. As she expected, it contained 
 a note from her lover, and in a broken 
 voice she read to the attentive Lady Ange- 
 line the tender regrets of Sidney, and the 
 news of his father's sudden orders for their 
 departure. It expressed his fears that the 
 A^iscount suspected their intimacy, and 
 concluded by a renewal of his vows of eter- 
 nal love and fidelity; telling her that weeks 
 would appear years until the happy month 
 arrived which would introduce her to the 
 world, and give him an opportunity of once^ 
 more pressing to his bosom the idol of his 
 tenderest affection. 
 
 Lady Elvira wept as she kissed the letter 
 of Sidney, and at that instant her heart 
 throbbed with a love that equalled his. She 
 put it into her snowy bosom, and taking 
 up the volume in which it had been con- 
 veyed to her, saw that it was the sonnets 
 of Petrarch : the name of Heary Fortes- 
 cue was written in the title-page. 
 
 " Here, Angeline, you may have this 
 book : it will suit your taste : only keep it
 
 OTHE SONS OF THE VISCOl^NT. 139 
 
 from the eyes of my aunt.*' Lady Ange- 
 line took the volume, and unseen by her 
 sister pressed it to her lips, then locked it 
 carefully in her cabinet, which, though 
 filled with jewels of great value, now re- 
 ceived a treasure far superior to them all : 
 such, at least, was the opinion of Lady 
 Angeline De Courci. 
 
 The first fine day that enabled them to 
 leave the Castle they dedicated to Mrs. 
 Thomson, who eagerly carried them once 
 more over the altered apartments of the 
 Abbey. Some of the superb modern furni- 
 ture had already arrived which was to de- 
 corate a part of the rooms intended for the 
 handsome niece of the Viscount. Lady 
 Angeline turned hastily from these, and 
 followed with rapidity the footsteps of Mrs. 
 Thomson, who led them into the rooms 
 belonging to Henry. Throwing herself into 
 his study chair, she, for the first time in her 
 life, blushed at her own feelings. She rose, 
 and taking up one of his books, saw with 
 secret pleasure that he had marked all 
 those passages which she had herself ad- 
 mired when she had profitted by the kind-
 
 140 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT* 
 
 ness of the housekeeper, who had^ gfverj 
 them free access to the library before the 
 arrival of the Viscount. 
 
 Lady Elvira had also felt in some degree- 
 agitated as she passed through the cham- 
 bers so lately occupied by Sidney. Call- 
 ing to her sister, who stood lost in thought 
 by the side of some beautiful myrtles, she 
 quitted the apartments of Henry, and with 
 Mrs. Thomson entered those which were 
 getting ready for his intended bride. 
 
 Lady Angeline started from her reverie, 
 and looking round, found herself alone: 
 she involuntarily broke off a branch from: 
 one of the myrtles, and concealed it in her 
 bosom, then ran after her sister. She heard 
 Mrs. Thomson repeating to Lady Elvira 
 the conversation which had passed be- 
 tween herself and Sidney on the night be- 
 fore his departure ; and saw the fine eyes 
 of her sister sparkle w^ith delight at the 
 praise he bestowed on her beauty. 
 
 " Pray excuse me,** said Mrs. Thom- 
 jjon,** but I could not help wishing Mr.. 
 Henry's wife might he as affable, as sweet- 
 tempered as your ladyship; and it was some
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 141 
 
 comfort to hear that Mr. Sidney thinks her 
 one of the best dispositioned ladies in the 
 world ; but it grieved me to learn that she 
 is so fond of pleasure and a town life, that 
 we shall not have much of her company at 
 the Abbey. I suppose it will be too soli- 
 tary and retired for her fancy.'* 
 
 Lady Angeline cast her eyes around, 
 while her heart told her that with such 
 society as that she would enjoy, the soli* 
 tude of the Abbey would be unfelt. To 
 her it would be a little world, comprising 
 in one object all that made life desirable. 
 
 " You have never seen even the picture 
 of the Viscount's daughter, have you ?" 
 said Lady Elvira. 
 
 *' No,'' replied Mrs. Thomson ; " but 
 Robarts told me she was the image of my 
 dear Miss Fortescue, the Viscount's sister. 
 Oh ! she was the sweetest, the best, the 
 dearest creature in the world." Tears of 
 affectionate remembrance rolled down her 
 face. Wiping them away with her apron, 
 she continued. *' I used to think, when I 
 saw her leaning on the arm of Lady Emma 
 De Courci, your ladyship's aunt, that.they
 
 142 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 were two angels ; and certainly we all 
 thought the same. These very rooms be- 
 longed to Miss Fortescue : they hardly 
 ever have been opened since her death ; 
 but the Viscount gave me orders to get 
 them in readiness for his niece, as they 
 command the finest prospect of any in the 
 Abbey.'' 
 
 The sisters felt an invohmtary shudder.^ 
 Both would have given any thing to have 
 been acquainted with the cause of her un- 
 timely fate, and of the enmity which sub- 
 sisted between the families. Pride and 
 delicacy prevented their inquiring of Mrs. 
 Thomson what so nearly related to them- 
 selves. 
 
 " I suppose your ladyships have seen 
 the portrait of Lady Emma De Courci at 
 the Castle ? Pray excuse me, but Lady 
 Angeline is so like to what her aunt was at 
 her age, only that she was much taller, 
 that I could almost fancy I saw her now 
 before me." 
 
 •' No/* said Lady Elvira, " we have 
 never seen a picture of my aunt : there is 
 not one at the Castle : she went to Ireland
 
 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 145 
 
 before we were born, and has remained 
 there ever since. This winter we are to 
 have the pleasure of beholding her. I 
 have, however, heard my mother say that 
 Angeline was the image of Lady Emma." 
 
 Lady Angeline sighed deeply, though 
 she was almost unconscious why. Mrs. 
 Thomson looked at her with respectful af- 
 fection, as she said '* May it please God 
 to render your ladyship as happy, as pros- 
 perous in this world, as poor Lady Emma 
 was unfortunate ! The present Viscount is 
 a striking example of filial obedience. God 
 bless us, it is a sad world we live in ! and 
 the rich are not exempt from sufferings 
 any more than the poor. I beg pardon, lat 
 dies. I have some how got into a dismal 
 mood : I believe these rooms brought it on 
 me. I hope nothing will happen to put off 
 Mr. Henry*s wedding/* 
 
 *' I hope not,^' replied the eldest daugh- 
 ter of the Earl, trying to recover her spirits. 
 " Dear Mrs. Thomson, how gay and lively 
 you will be when the family returns. I 
 suppose Miss Fortescue wrll accompany 
 her sister-in-law.**
 
 144 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 *' Ilobarts told me so, please your lady- 
 ship. Mr. Henry is to be married the third 
 of January: they are to be presented on 
 the birth-day, and two days after I am to 
 expect them at the Abbey/' 
 
 *' We shall see them on the birth-day!" 
 cried Lady Elvira exultingly. But the 
 cheek of her sister was pale as death. 
 ** Come, Angeline, rejoice : we shall see 
 them on the birth-day.** Then taking 
 leave of the goodnatured housekeeper, she 
 leaped into the boat with all her former 
 vivacity, and passed over to the Castle. 
 
 Lady Dorothea, whose delicate state of 
 health confined her principally to her own 
 apartments, smiled significantly as they en- 
 tered her chamber. " H^re is a letter, my 
 dear girls, from the Earl, your uncle ; and 
 joyful news for you, Elvira : he wishes that 
 our journey to London may be earlier than 
 was at first intended. His sister. Lady 
 Desmond, and her son, are expected from 
 Ireland in about a fortnight ; and your.un- 
 cle having no females to receive them, tells 
 me that he shall be infinitely obliged to
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 145 
 
 me, if I will forward our journey as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 " And my dear aunt will I am certain 
 oblige his lordship. Oh ! how 1 long to 
 see London, and all its dear amusements, 
 and my aunt Lady Desmond ! I hope 
 she 's as goodnatured and considerate as 
 you are." 
 
 " Oh ! yon coaxing creature. I half re- 
 solved to stay until December, but I be- 
 lieve I must in mercy to myself comply ; 
 therefore, my dear girls, prepare for your 
 journey. Ill as I am calculated to mix 
 in the busy scenes of life, I am de- 
 sirous to contribute all in my power to 
 your happiness ; so if you have no very 
 great objection, we will leave the Cas- 
 tle in time to welcome Lady Desmond's 
 return to England. What say$ my dear 
 Angeline ? You look pale, my darling. The 
 air of London will not I fear restore the 
 rose to your cheek, my beloved niece.*' 
 
 Lady Angeline affectionately embraced 
 her aunt, and expressed her fears that her 
 health would sufferby their journey. '* No, 
 my dear Angeline, we will travel slowly. 
 
 VOL. !• H
 
 146 THE SONS OF THlE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Your uncle apologizes for not coming him- 
 self to escort you to Town, as well as for 
 his son, who is gone with some college 
 friends on a shooting expedition, and will 
 not return in time for that purpose ; we 
 will therefore set out at an earlier hour than 
 would otherwise be necessary." 
 
 Lady Elvira's spirits now rose higher 
 and higher, while those of her sister were 
 depressed beyond her ability to raise them. 
 The retirement of the Castle, the calm 
 domestic life they led within its walls, 
 suited her taste and disposition ; and she 
 looked forward to her departure with timid 
 reluctance. Diffident to an excess of her 
 own attractions, she trembled at the idea 
 of encountering the fixed gaze of a ball- 
 room, or the crowded assembly of ^ court ; 
 and secretly wished that her rank in life 
 had been less exalted : then she would 
 have been exempt from mixing in the dis- 
 sipations of the fashionable world. The 
 lively face of her beautiful sister, now dim- 
 pled with the smile of expectation, afforded 
 her, however, some recompence for the' 
 sacrifice of her own inclinations. With
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 147 
 
 painful emotion she accompanied Lady- 
 Elvira, for the last time, to the. Abbey ; and 
 took leave of Mrs. Thomson, who, with 
 tears in her eyes, kissed the hand of each, 
 and prayed to God that she might be so 
 happy as to see them once again. 
 
 Nothing of moment occurred during the 
 time they remained at the Castle ; and in 
 the beginning of November, Lady Doro- 
 thea, with her beautiful nieces, set off for 
 the capita!. 
 
 H 2
 
 148 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was late in the evening before the 
 carriage of Lady Dorothea Archdale ar- 
 rived at the noble mansion of Lord De 
 Courcijin Grosvenor Square. The Earl, and 
 his only son, a fine young man about nine- 
 teen, received them at the foot of the great 
 staircase, and led them affectionately into 
 the drawing-room. Pride and pleasure 
 were visible in the countenance of Lord 
 De Courci, as his eyes eagerly ran over 
 the lovely features and graceful figures of 
 his nieces ; and he embraced them again 
 and again, with that sort of fatherly affec- 
 tion, that communicated itself instanta- 
 neously to the hearts of the sisters. Lady 
 Dorothea partook also of his kindnees ; 
 and in the high encomiums he passed on 
 her beloved nieces, felt all her pains re- 
 paid. Five years had of course made
 
 THE SONS OF THE VlSCOUNT. 149 
 
 great alterations in each of their persons, 
 and the Earl could hardly believe that the 
 two little girls, one twelve, and the other 
 eleven years of age, were the beautiful 
 women now before him. 
 
 *' Elvira,*' said he, " is a blended like- 
 ness of my brother and his wife ; but little 
 Angeline, were she but taller, would be 
 the exact resemblance of my sister Emma, 
 I expect your aunt will be here to-morrow, 
 my dear girls ; and anticipate the pleasure 
 she will receive from your unexpected pre- 
 sence. It is now four years since I was 
 last over in Ireland. The death of Lord 
 Desmond will, I hope, induce her to make 
 England once more her chief place of resi- 
 dence : in that case we shall have a snug 
 family party of our own. Reginald,*' 
 looking at his son as he spoke, " will not 
 make a bad beau for Elvira ; and should 
 the young Lord Desmond resemble his 
 mother as much as he promised to do 
 when 1 last saw him, he will be an excel- 
 lent companion for ray little Angeline. 
 After you are presented, my dear girls, 
 
 H 3
 
 1^0 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 3'ou shall enjoy, to your heart*s content, 
 all the e^aieties of London. 
 
 The bright eyes of Lady Elvira sparkled 
 with delight ; those of Lady Angeline 
 beamed with affection. Fatigued by their 
 journey, the ladies retired early to the 
 chambers which had been prepared for them, 
 each gratified by the reception they had 
 met with from their uncle. Lady Ange- 
 line felt herself instantly attached to him, 
 from the likeness he bore to her deceased 
 father : the same noble and dignified air, 
 the same suavity and highly polished man- 
 ners, characterized the two brothers ; and, 
 though unknown to her, the same love of 
 pleasure and dissipation. 
 
 Lord De Courci had been a widower 
 about six years ; but it was generally 
 known that h^e had not, during that period, 
 spent his days or nights in mourning for 
 the loss of his wife. Two years had scarcely 
 elapsed before his heart became enslaved 
 by the wit and beauty of another fair one : 
 she was, however, the daughter of a pri- 
 vate gentleman ; and the Earl, whose chief
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. \6l 
 
 foible was family pride, refused to sacrifice, 
 as he called it, the dignity of his house, 
 by placing at the head of his table a woman 
 less nobly descended than himself. After 
 having tried all his eloquence (and that 
 was truly persuasive) to gain, upon less 
 honourable terms, the person of the inte- 
 resting Mary Evelyn, he retreated with the 
 best grace he could, and solaced himself, 
 for this disappointment of the heart, by 
 the society of one who possessed equal 
 beauty, but less virtue, than the object 
 of his lordship's real affection. 
 
 Miss Evelyn, who was a year younger 
 than Lord Reginald De Courci, was the 
 only daughter of a brave and meritorious 
 officer, who lost his life in the service of 
 his country, leaving to the generosity and 
 active benevolence of his native kingdom 
 a disconsolate widow and four children, 
 with only a small hereditary estate for their 
 support. At the time the Earl became 
 captivated by the charms of modest worth 
 and youthful beauty, Mrs. Evelyn had re- 
 tired to a pretty romantic cottage, pic- 
 turesquely situated on the borders of one of 
 
 H 4
 
 \62 THE SONS OF THE VISCOtJNT. 
 
 his lordship's favourite estates. Her two 
 eldest sons were provided for, the one in 
 the army, the other in the navy ; and the 
 third, a fine high-spirited boy of seven- 
 teen, was pining for the nneans to enable 
 him to enter the same regiment as his 
 eldest brother. It was at this time that 
 Lord De Courei, on returning to his coun- 
 try-seat, discovered the treasure which it 
 contained. His high rank, his fascinating 
 conversation, his winning address, and his 
 being her landlord, made him a welcome 
 guest with Mrs. Evelyn. 
 
 In the most elegant manner, Lord De 
 Courei presented her son with a pair of 
 colours in the same regiment as that he had 
 .so long wished to enter. The heart of 
 M^ry Evelyn felt warmly grateful for thia 
 act of kindness to her beloved brother. 
 Her fine black eyes sparkled at the ap- 
 proach of the Earl, and the crimson blush 
 of modesty heightened her natural loveli- 
 ness as she encountered his fixed and ar- 
 dent gaze of admiration. 
 
 The next summer Lord Reginald ac- 
 companied his father to Dudley House,
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 1^53 
 
 which had come into the Earl's possession 
 on his marriage with an heiress of that fami- 
 ly. A friendship was immediately formed 
 between George Evelyn and his lordship ; 
 nor was the handsome sister of the former 
 an object that could pass unnoticed by the 
 son of Lord De Courci. She was then 
 just turned of fifteen, tall for her age, and 
 full of youthful spirits, which the misfor- 
 tunes of the world had not yet assailed. 
 Filial love and sisterly affection animated 
 her expressive features, and gratitude in- 
 creased their attraction whenever the Earl 
 or his son approached her. 
 
 Lord De Courci owned her merits ; and 
 had not pride checked the honourable emo- 
 tions of his soul, he would never have vio- 
 lated the chaste ear of Mary Evelyn by any 
 other proposal than that of marriage. In- 
 dignantly she turned from the supplica- 
 ting earl : consciousness of injured vir- 
 tue flushed her cheeks. With a spirit 
 which amazed his lordship, she com- 
 manded him to quit her presence, and lay 
 his splendid offers at the feet of some more 
 venal heart than her's. 
 
 B 6
 
 1^4 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Though a peer of the realm, and de- 
 scended from a long line of noble ancestors, 
 the Earl felt a momentary inferiority as he 
 gazed on the daughter of Major Evelyn. 
 He entreated her pardon, and only received 
 it on condition that he nev^er insulted her 
 again by the mention of his passion, and 
 that he would avoid her as much as possi- 
 ble, without exciting in tlie mind of her 
 mother- suspicions as to the real cause of 
 his estrangement. Mortified at being dic- 
 tated to by so young a girl, LoFd De Courci 
 haughtily left her to repent, if she pleased, 
 of the refusal of his proposals. By degrees 
 he withdrew himself from his accustomed 
 visits at the cottage, and expressed his de- 
 sire that his son should do the same. Lord 
 Reginald was unwillingly compelled to 
 appear obedient, while Mrs. Evelyn, sur- 
 ))rised at the sudden change in the conduct 
 of his father, was at a loss to know to 
 what she might attribute hrs total neglectj 
 of her and her family. 
 
 The Earl, however, cotitinued every] 
 summer to pass some months at Dudley] 
 House ; and his son, who always attende<
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 155 
 
 him during his recess from Oxford, conti- 
 nued, unknown to his father, to visit the 
 amiable Mary. Lord De Courci, perfectly 
 unconscious that his son had ever entered 
 the cottage after his pleasure had been 
 made known to him, gave him leave to 
 pass the shooting season with a party of 
 young Oxonians at Dudley House, while 
 business of a far different nature called him 
 to London. 
 
 Unrestrained by the presence of his fa- 
 ther, Lord Reginald enjoyed the felicity 
 of seeing daily his Mary. She had informed 
 her mother of the insult she had received 
 from the Earl ; and at the same time her 
 blushes and her downcast eye betrayed, 
 that his son was not indifferent to her. 
 Incensed at the baseness of Lord De 
 Courci, Mrs. Evelyn determined to give a 
 shock to that ungenerous pride which 
 alone had prompted him to act the part of 
 a villain ; and from that hour secretly fa- 
 voured the addresses of his son. The ho- 
 nourable nature of Lord Reginald, and the 
 respectful and delicate fondness he dis-
 
 1^6 THE SOKS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 played for her daughter, made her con- 
 sent fearlessly to his visits at the cot- 
 tage. 
 
 " Lord De Courci/' said she to her 
 daughter, " shall see, my Mary, how 
 dangerous it is to wound the heart of a 
 mother. Your father was no titled de- 
 gtro3^er, no betrayer of unsuspecting inno- 
 cence. He was the only son of an ancient 
 family ; a brave man, ennobled by his 
 own actions : and your mother's ancestors, 
 my Mary, were equally to be respected. 
 Your virtues, my child, would not have 
 disgraced the ermine of Lord De Courci. 
 The coronet shall yet sparkle on your 
 brows, my beloved daughter." 
 
 Mary, who cared but little about the 
 high rank she might hold in society, 
 thought alone of becoming the wife of the 
 man she loved, and perhaps of mortifying 
 the pride of his father. Lord Reginald had 
 therefore free admission to the cottage of 
 her mother ; and it was not to be wondered 
 at, that when summoned to London, on 
 the arrival of his cousins, he obeyed with
 
 . THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. \67 
 
 lingering reluctance. He bad but just 
 aligbted from bis carriage as that of Lady 
 Dorothea Archdale drove up to the door. 
 
 At the breakfast table next morning he 
 met the captivating sisters. Perfectly re- 
 covered from the fatigues of the over-night, 
 he savr and acknowledged the powerful 
 attractions of Lady Elvira. Yet to him, 
 who had been accustomed to watch the 
 tender retiring glances of Mary Evelyn, to 
 witness the endearing blush of modesty 
 which his admiration called forth, there 
 appeared a degree of boldness in her lady- 
 ship, which, to him, took from the exquisite 
 beauty of her finished person ; and he turn- 
 ed with pleasure and affection to the timid 
 delicate Lady Angeline. His heart immedi- 
 ately acknowledged a preference, which inr 
 creased as he became more intimately ac- 
 quainted with her virtues. 
 
 Lord De Courci led them over his costly 
 rooms, which were fitted up in the first 
 style of fashionable magnificence: he then 
 shewed them his collection of paintings, 
 which were esteemed one of the best in the 
 kingdom, and felt delighted by the admi-
 
 158 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 ration they expressed at his taste and judg- 
 ment. His extensive and well-selected 
 library, which he had spared no expence 
 to make perfect, afforded a prospect of in- 
 exhaustible amusement to Lady Angeline. 
 It was full of classic ornaments and decora- 
 tions, and the whole appearance of the 
 apartment invited you to be studious. 
 
 The music-room, which had been closed 
 since the death of Lady De Courci, had 
 been re-opened for the reception of his 
 nieces, who were to reside with his lord- 
 ship during their minority. Fie presented 
 each w^ith a harp and grand piano-forte ; 
 the room was also decorated with tambou- 
 rines, triangles, and a variety of musical 
 instruments, which he requested them to 
 consider as their own. Gratified by this 
 mark of affectionate attention, they warmly 
 expressed their thanks for his good- 
 ness. 
 
 " You must consider this as your home, 
 my dear girls," said his lordship. *' I per- 
 ceive that I have robbed myself of many 
 happy hours, by giving you for a residence 
 De Couici Castle. I must, however^ in-*
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 159 
 
 deninify myself for the pleasurable moments 
 1 have lost, and hope that my nieces will 
 reside with me from this time, until a 
 change of name may make a change of resi- 
 dence more agreeable.'* 
 
 Lady Elvira answered gaily that such 
 were also her wishes, adding that the soli- 
 tude of the Castle but ill suited her taste 
 and disposition. 
 
 *' Had you seen it in the days of its 
 splendour, when it was the chief residence 
 of your family,'* replied the Earl, *' you 
 would not have found it gloomy." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but I am sure it was dull 
 enough, uncle, during the five years of our 
 stay: though within the last two months 
 I contrived to find it more pleasant.** 
 
 " And what, my dearest Elvira, was the 
 caiise of that alteration ?*' inquired her 
 aunt. 
 
 *' The anticipation of the amusements 
 and gay scenes I was to enjoy this winter,*' 
 said she, colouring as she spoke : "but for 
 that delightful expectation, I verily believe 
 that I slkould have died of ennui ; and that
 
 l60 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 you know, uncle, would have been a terri- 
 ble thing/' 
 
 Lord De Courci smiled on her affection- 
 ately. "I will save you from that death 
 at least, Elvira. In my house you shall not 
 complain of dullness. I wish you to be mis- 
 tress here,'* casting a look on his son as he 
 spoke. '* My sister has kindly consented to 
 relieve Lady Dorothea from the charge of 
 two such awkward country damsels, and to 
 polish you a little before you are presented. 
 I think it will be perfectly necessary," he 
 continued, looking at them significantly, 
 *' for as you now are, you would shock the 
 fine ladies of the present age. But seriously, 
 my dear Elvira, I hope you have not vowed 
 eternal hatred to the country, for I have 
 engaged a few friends to pass the Christmas 
 holidays at a favourite seat of mine, and 
 shall be vexed if you accompany us unwill- 
 ingly." 
 
 " My dear uncle," replied Lady Elvira, 
 kissing his hand with graceful vivacity, " I 
 shall never in your presence feel that de- 
 tested thing called ennui : I shall be happy
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. l6l 
 » 
 
 to contribute in any degree to the amuse- 
 ment of yourself and your friends.** 
 
 *' What says my little Angeline ?** said 
 his lordship, turning tenderly towards her, 
 *' Shall you regret quitting London at the 
 gayest season of the year ?'* 
 
 " No, my lord ; I prefer the beauties of 
 nature to all the boasted amusements of the 
 metropolis that I have heard of so much.*' 
 
 Lord Reginald took her hand, and with 
 the affection of a brother carried it to his 
 lips. " With such a conipanion as you, my 
 dear cousin, the country would i)e a para- 
 dise at any season of the year." She blush- 
 ed at his praise, while the Earl felt vexed 
 that his son evidently viewed the beautiful 
 and fascinating Lady Elvira with an in- 
 difference which to him was perfectly un- 
 natural and unaccountable. 
 
 A little before the hour of dinner Lady 
 Desmond and her son arrived. The sisters 
 longed to behold the Lady Emma whose 
 early love had been so cruelly blighted: in 
 amoment they found themselves pressed to 
 her bosom, while tears streamed down her 
 pale cheek at the remembrance of the bro-
 
 162 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 ther who had caused all her woes, of the 
 brother now no more. Greatly affected, 
 the lovely girls mingled their tears with 
 her*s, and returned with veneration and 
 love her maternal embrace. Lady Ange- 
 line felt particularly agitated by the 
 sight of her, whose name she had heard 
 mentioned in terms of continued fond- 
 ness by Lord Fortescue: and as she 
 gazed on the still beautiful face, the tall 
 and graceful figure of Lady Desmond, the 
 pensiveness which she perceived still re- 
 mained on her highly expressive features^ 
 even after she became composed, strongly 
 interested her in her favour: while Lady 
 Desmond appeared equally pleased by the 
 loveliness, delicacy, and feeling of the 
 youngest niece. 
 
 Lord Desmond, though not quite so 
 -liandsome as his mother, yet possessed a 
 countenance that never failed to please, 
 from the sweetness of its expression. He 
 was about the same age as Lord Reginald, 
 of a disposition lively but not boisterous ; 
 and the whole of his person, manners, and 
 voice, bore a strong resemblance to those of
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 165 
 
 his truly interesting parent, who devoted 
 herself to the happiness and welfare of this 
 dear and cherished object of her affections. 
 Lady Angeline De Courci and Lord Des- 
 mond would have passed for brother and 
 sister: each had the same variety of ex- 
 pression in their countenances ; each pos- 
 sessed the same mild yet bright blue eye, 
 the long dark eye-lash, the rich chesnut 
 hair that waved in the sun like threads of 
 gold. The resemblance was even more 
 striking when Lord Desmond became lost 
 in thought: then his features assumed a 
 pensive sweetness, which, like Lady Ange- 
 line's, rendered him dangerously attractive. 
 His mother's endearing manners gave infi- 
 nite pleasure to Lady Dorothea Archdale, 
 who, from her age and delicate state of 
 health, was often obliged unwillingly to re- 
 press the extreme vivacity of her eldest 
 niece. She had from affectionate solicitude 
 accompa-nied them to Town, but the air of 
 London very ill agreed with her enfeebled 
 frame; and as Lord De Courci had given 
 her permission to reside as long as she 
 thought fit at the Castle, and intimated
 
 164 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT* 
 
 that he should consider himself obhged by 
 her continuing there, she proposed after 
 the presentation of her niecet to return 
 to that noble mansion, and take as a com- 
 panion the excellent Mrs. Selby, who had 
 so faithfully discharged the duties of her 
 sacred trust in the education of her darling 
 girls. At the entreaty of Lady Desmond, 
 and Lady Angeline in particular, she con- 
 sented to accompany the family to Dudley 
 House: the latter did not dare trust herself 
 to think of her departure, while the giddy 
 Elvira scarcely allowed herself time to 
 dwell for a moment on any subject uncon- 
 nected with her introduction into life. 
 
 Lady Desmond took her nieces with her 
 on the morning which she dedicated to 
 the important business of leaving her card 
 at the houses of those families whose ac- 
 quaintance she proposed to renew. On 
 their account she was obliged to deviate 
 from the retired life she had marked out 
 for herself; for their sakes she determined 
 to mix as much as possible in the fashion- 
 able world, and in this she was seconded 
 by the wishes of h6r brother. The sisters.
 
 I 
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 165 
 
 who had never been in town since their in- 
 fancy, were delighted by the novelty of the 
 new scene before them. Lady Elvira was 
 in raptures with the various ornaments and 
 splendid dresses which were ordered for 
 herself and sister; and they returned from 
 their morning's ride mutually pleased with 
 all they had seen, and charmed their uncle 
 by the lively description which they gave of 
 what had passed. 
 
 The next day Lady Desmond received 
 several visits from a variety of persons, 
 most of whom she had known occasionally 
 in Ireland: all testified their pleasure at 
 the arrival of a woman who could not be 
 known without being loved. Among those 
 w^ho were anxiolis to pay their respects to 
 the sister of Lord De Courci, was the 
 Duchess of Aimhigh and her handsome 
 daughters. She stood high upon the list 
 of fashion, and her house was the general 
 resort of all the beauty, valour, and talent 
 of the United Kingdom. Two of herdaugh- 
 ters she had married to noble dukes, and 
 she had already destined two more of them 
 to matches equally eligible.
 
 166 THE SOUS OP THE VISCOUNT, 
 
 ** My dear Lady Desmond," said the 
 goodnatured Duchess, " if you will give 
 me leave, I will present you and your beau- 
 tiful nieces on the birth-day. I had the 
 vanity to think that my girls, when they 
 came out, would be the reigning toasts of 
 the day ; but I now perceive that they 
 must yield to the nieces of Lord De 
 Courci/' 
 
 Lady Desmond thanked her Grace, and 
 readily accepted of her obliging offer, not a 
 little gratified by the unsolicited kindness 
 of the Duchess, whose unmarried daughters 
 had already claimed the friendship of the 
 lovel^j sisters. 
 
 " We shall be presented at the same time 
 as you are," said Lady Clementina. ^^ I 
 shall be so glad when it is over, for then 
 we can go every where with mamma. 
 Only think how delightful ! we shall be 
 presented on the birth-day, and then us 
 four girls can be inseparable companions: 
 won't that be pleasant ?" * 
 
 Before Lady Elvira could reply, Lady 
 Lucy eagerly inquired if they had deter- 
 mined upon what dresses they shoiild wear
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 167 
 
 on the occasion. " Mamma,** said she, 
 *' intends that our's shall if possible be the 
 most splendid at court." 
 
 " We shall leave that point to be settled 
 by Lady Desmond/' replied her eldest 
 niece. '-' 1 shall rejoice when the day is 
 passed, for I confess I feel rather timid/' 
 
 ** And I would give any thing to escape 
 it," cried Lady Angeline. " I am sure I 
 shall die with embarrassment." 
 
 " Die !" re-echoed Lady Lucy — " what 
 an odd thought ! You mean die with 
 pleasure — only think what conquests you 
 will make. Dear Lady Angeline, I cannot 
 help laughing at the idea of your dying." 
 She laughed so loud that her mother in- 
 quired the cause, and smiling graciously on 
 the timid girl, who came forward to take 
 her extended hand, said : 
 
 "I will take care of you, dear Lady 
 Angeline. Oh ! how I shall be envied by 
 all the fashionable beaux of the presentday, 
 for having so much loveliness under my 
 protection !" Then turning to Lady Des- 
 mond, she asked if she visited during her 
 stay in Ireland the Earl of Dorrington,
 
 165 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 and if she had seen his sons. Lady Des- 
 mond replied in the affirmative. 
 
 ^^ The two youngest," said her Grace, 
 *' are just returned from making the grand 
 tour of Europe, and are remarkably fine 
 young men. All the girls are mad after 
 them." She then added in a w^hisper, " If 
 I had not still higher views for Clem and 
 Lucy, I should have no objection to have 
 them for my sons-in-law.'* Then sum- 
 moning her daughters, she took a friendly 
 leave of Lady Desmond, promising to call 
 '^gain before the family left Town. 
 
 Lord De Courci, who knew that the 
 Duchess of Aimhigh was one of the 
 greatest match-makers of the age, felt 
 anxious that before she would have the op- 
 portunity to exert that power over his 
 nieces, his son should seek to gain the af- 
 fections of Lady Elvira. He determined, 
 therefore, to disclose his wishes to Lord 
 Reginald, as soon as they arrived at Dud- 
 ley House, not supposing for a moment that 
 his son, whose heart he imagined perfectly 
 disengaged, could refuse the hand of so 
 finished a beautv as his eldest niece.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 169 
 
 Lady Angeline from her size, and the 
 slimness of her form, appeared to be barely 
 fifteen ; and his lordship had no wish to 
 have her provided for as yet : but con- 
 scious of the many admirers her sister 
 would gain as soon as she was introduced, 
 he wished to secure her for his son beyond 
 the possibility of her receding; and saw 
 the day arrive for their departure with a 
 satisfaction which Lady Elvira little sup- 
 posed she was the cause of. Indeed, her 
 mind was so full of the praises which had 
 already been passed on her beauty, that 
 even Sidney was forgotten. Vanity and 
 self-love alone filled that heart which a 
 few weeks before was devoted to the ena- 
 moured son of the Viscount. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 170 THE SONjS or THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It was not the intention of Lord For- 
 tescue to make any longer stay in Town than 
 was necessary to settle some affairs prepa- 
 ratory to the nuptials of Henry, which 
 were to take place early in January. His 
 daughter and niece were gone to spend 
 their Christmas at the seat of General Ave- 
 land, and thither Henry followed them 
 three days after his leaving the Abbey. 
 The Viscount and Sidney, at the expiration 
 of a week, set off for Rainsford Hall, -j 
 where he proposed to remain until the 
 time appointed for all his family to meet in -\ 
 Portland Place. 
 
 He vainly hoped that the society of 
 Baron Rainsford's accomplished daughters, 
 and the festivities £)f his hospitable man^ 
 sion, would restore his son to those ever 
 ively spirits which he possessed before hi$
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT 1/1 
 
 residence at the Abbey. Such were the 
 wishes of a father, whose heart at the 
 same moment reminded him that no 
 change of scene, nor even the lapse of 
 years, had been able to efface the remem- 
 brance of such a face, such a form, as 
 Emma De Courci's. Duty, inclination, and 
 honour, made him fulfil with credit to him- 
 self the character of a husband ; and in 
 the still tenderer feelings of a parent. Lord 
 Fortescue enjoyed comparative happiness ; 
 but in. reality, the idea of his once promised 
 felicity, his once fairy prospects, so cruelly 
 nipped in the bud, would cast a gloom 
 over his mind, which was only dispersed 
 by the presence of his children. 
 
 The return to the Abbey, after so many 
 years had elapsed, awakened all his resent- 
 ment, and renewed in fancy the blissfu 
 hours of his youth. The woman, whose 
 image was still fresh in his view, still deaj 
 to his soul, was now a widow. He also 
 was free, A thought teeming with rap- 
 ture entered his mind : it was momentary 
 Blushing at his weakness, he remembered 
 
 his solemn promise to his deceased father 
 
 I 2
 
 172 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 his solemn vow to the sweet spirit of his 
 injured sister — and the deep sense of 
 wounded pride, of wounded honour, put 
 to flight the gentler emotions of love. 
 
 Sidney was not of a nature to be long 
 absorbed in melancholy reflections : the 
 cheerful circle at the Baron*s, the various 
 amusements which he partook of, the 
 agreeable conversation and lively man- 
 ners of his daughters, and their brothers, 
 though they could not drive from his re-, 
 membrance the all-perfect form of Lady 
 Elvira, yet contributed to restore in a great 
 measure his natural vivacity. , He looked 
 forward wilh impatience for the month of 
 January, and suffered himself to hope that 
 the beloved being, for whose sake he had 
 risked the displeasure of a highly valued 
 parent, was as well as himself counting the 
 tedious weeks which had yet to pass be- 
 fore they could see each other again. Lord 
 Foitescue observed with secret satisfaction 
 the change in Sidney's looks and beha- 
 viour. My suspicions, thought he, were 
 groundless, or he could not so soon re- 
 cover his serenity. Volatile and thought-
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 173 
 
 Jess in the extreme, it will be his fate to 
 love passionately, if he loves at all. 
 
 The appearance of Henry at General 
 Aveland's so much earlier than they 
 had expected gratified the vanity of Miss 
 Fortescne, delighted his sister, and gave 
 sincere pleasure to the General and his 
 whole family. " Ah! my dear boy," said 
 he, shaking him warmly by the hand, 
 ** I thought you \^ould not be able to stay 
 away much longer: now you are come, Lu- 
 cinda will not complain of the dreariness of 
 the country: she has been in poor spirits 
 since she came here; but, absent from you, 
 it is very excusable." 
 
 *' My dear Sir," gaily replied Miss For- 
 tescue, " you should not tell Henry so : if 
 he were inclined to vanity, you would in- 
 crease it." At the same time she gave her 
 lover a look of tender approbation, which 
 testified how happy she felt in his presence. 
 As soon as his sister and cousin were 
 alone with him, the latter eagerly inquired 
 how he liked the Abbey, adding that she 
 feared it was a sad dull place. Henry's 
 description of the fine old building, once 
 
 I 3
 
 \7^ THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 the favourite residence of hrs ancestors, en- 
 raptured his gentle sister : he coloured as 
 he mentioned the lake and its beautiful 
 scenery; while Cecil, delighted at the idea 
 of beholding the ancient family seat of her 
 father, expressed herself in terms that per- 
 fectly coincided with her brother's taste. 
 
 " Dearest Cecil," said Miss Fortescue, 
 " I cannot think how you and Henry can 
 be so fond of the country ; it always makes 
 me low-spirited, and 1 somehow or other 
 shudder at the thought of passing two or 
 three months at the Abbey. I have heard 
 my father declare that nothing could com- 
 pel him to enter its walls ; and I wish my 
 uncle had fixed on some other spot for our 
 summer residence than the ruined and de- 
 solate Abbey." 
 
 My dear Lucinda,*' replied Henry, 
 
 you will not find it either desolate or 
 dreary, as every thing has been studied to 
 render it agreeable to you. In summer it 
 is enchanting, and with such companions 
 as Cecil, Miss Aveland, and my brother, 
 you cannot surely be dull.*' 
 
 *' You have not named yourself, dear 

 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 175 
 
 Harry/* cried Miss Fortescue : " but for 
 your beloved society, all the united kind- 
 nesses of Cecil, Sidney, and Julia Ave- 
 land, would not confine me a week to the 
 solitude of the Abbey." 
 
 Henry embraced her affectionately, ye* 
 a sigh escaped him, which was heard by 
 his sister. " Are there any families near 
 Fortescue Abbey?'* inquired his cousin. 
 
 *' None, my dear Lucinda, but one, and 
 that we are prohibited from associating 
 with. The Castle of Lord De Courci 
 stands on the opposite bank of the lake, 
 but it will afford you no comfort, my love, 
 since you must never speak to any of the 
 family.*' The. approach of Miss Aveland 
 put an end for the present to their con- 
 versation. 
 
 Cecil, who generally rose two or three 
 hours before Miss Fortescue, was pre 
 vented by the severity of the weather from 
 taking her accustomed walks; she there- 
 fore spent her time in the chamber of her 
 brother, and enjoyed undisturbed the 
 luxury of his society. She questioned him 
 
 with the curiosity natural to her age upon 
 
 I 4
 
 176 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 all that concerned the Abbey ; and Henry, 
 who doated on his sister, and who had 
 been accustomed from infancy to confide 
 to her every wish, every thought, now 
 trusted to her pradence and affection the 
 secret interviews which had passed be- 
 tween the daughters of the Earl, his bro- 
 thers, and himself. His eulogium on the 
 delicacy and propriety of Lady Angeline's 
 conduct, his high praises on the loveliness 
 of her person, made a deep impression on 
 the heart of his sister : shadderins: at th^^ 
 idea of disobeying her father, she yet 
 could not help longing for the birth-day, 
 which would give her a sight of the fasci- 
 nating daughters of the Earl. 
 
 *' Oh ! Cecil," exclaimed her brother, 
 warmly, " but for this unhappy difference, 
 what a friend, what a companion would 
 you gain! Lady Angeline is just the wo- 
 man that would suit the elegant mind, de- 
 licate manners, and pure heart of my 
 sister; just the woman she would feel at- 
 tached to for life." 
 
 *' She must indeed be amiable," replied 
 Cecil, '* to call forth such praise from my
 
 I 
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 177 
 
 Henry. How I tremble for Sidney, my gay, 
 my volatile Sidney! I should never have 
 supposed for an instant that his wandering- 
 mind could attach itself so strongly.'* 
 
 " You know not the fascinations, the 
 powerful attractions, which are united in 
 the persons of the beautiful sisters.'* 
 
 " Thank heaven, my Henry's heart was 
 not disengaged, else, dear brother. Lady 
 Elvira might have enchanted you to turn 
 disobedient as well as my poor Sidney." 
 
 " Not Lady Elvira's matchless form — No, 
 Cecil, your brother's heart would have 
 been shielded against the power of mere 
 personal beauty; but when taste, delicacy, 
 feeling^and every virtue that can exalt the 
 female character, are united to loveliness 
 of form and feature, then indeed, my 
 sister, Henry might have owned the temp- 
 tation to be great. Great would have been 
 the filial love, the sense of duty, that could 
 have resisted such a woman." 
 
 " Ah ! my Harry, it is well for Lucinda 
 that you was engaged to her before your 
 visit to the Abbey. I guess the original of 
 your portrait: it is Angeiine De Courci*** 
 
 15
 
 178 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Her brother's face reddened at the name. 
 ** Beloved Cecil, dear confidant of all my 
 boyish pains and pleasures, to you alone 
 is now discovered the weakness of my 
 wayward heart. I love Lucinda with 
 brotherly affection : it shall be the study 
 of my life to make her happy, to contri- 
 bute to her comforts, to anticipate her 
 wishes ; but the diflerence in our tastes, in 
 our inclinations, are so striking, that I fear 
 I shall not always succeed* Madly attached 
 to the dissipations of London, hating the 
 country, and therefore incapable of enjoy- 
 ing with me the sublime and beautiful 
 scenes of nature, I foresee we shall lead 
 a life but little consonant to my taste or 
 wishes. 1 am myself formed for the tran- 
 quil delights of domestic happiness : my 
 wife, my children, the society of my family 
 and a few select friends, would constitute 
 my world. With a companion, whose 
 heart and mind were congenial with my 
 own, I should remain the chief part of the 
 year in the country, pass perhaps a month 
 or two of the winter season in Town, and 
 return early in spring to the charming re-
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 179 
 
 tirement of the Abbey. Lucinda, I am 
 convinced, will not think as I do; but I 
 shall nevertheless endeavour to conform 
 to her wishes: her happiness has been 
 confided to my care, and sacredly will 1 
 cherish it.** 
 
 Cecil threw her arms round the neck of 
 her brother, who affectionately kissed off 
 the tears that trickled down her rosy 
 cheeks. Her heart, however^ was too full 
 for utterance. " Do not weep, my dear 
 girl, at what I have said. I shall yet be 
 happy, my dearest Cecil : the conscious- 
 ness of faithfully performing my duties, of 
 contributing to the happiness of my be- 
 loved father, and of deserving the love of 
 your cousin, will enliven my days.*' 
 
 " Lucinda,** said his sister, ^*' is more 
 attached to you, my dear Harry, than to 
 any other object in the world : the love I 
 am confident she bears you may change 
 her natural inclination for gaiety. Oh! my 
 beloved, my adored brother, I should be 
 truly wretched if I thought it possible that 
 my cousin would not study your happiness, 
 before her own pleasures.*'
 
 ISO THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 " Fear not for me, dearest Cecil : if I 
 am not quite so happy as my revered father 
 expects, rest assured that no other woman 
 would now contribute to my felicity/' 
 
 Cecil's lovely dark eyes were raised to 
 the expressive face of her brother. " Not 
 Lady Angeline, Harry?" 
 
 *^ Not even that little angel," replied 
 Henry. " My father's hatred of the family, 
 his confidence in my honour and filial 
 duty, would, were I free to-morrow, blight 
 every hope, every tender wish that love 
 might suggest. Never, Cecil, will I inten- 
 tionally add to the sorrows of that dear 
 parent ; to secure his repose I would sacri- 
 fice the dearest wishes of my heart." 
 
 During these confidential intercourses, 
 Henry had also disclosed the fatal cause of 
 his father's resentment to the De Courci 
 family; and his sister, whose gentle and 
 sympathising nature was ever ready to pity 
 the unfortunate, felt as well as her brother 
 strongly interested in the fate of the inno- 
 cent victim of fraternal perfidy : while 
 Henry, as he gazed with all the fondness 
 of a brother upon the countenance of his
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 181 
 
 lovely sister, prayed to heaven that she 
 might escape the misery which brought to 
 an untimely grave her too confiding name- 
 sake, whose picture she so strongly re- 
 sembled. , 
 
 The addition of such a man as Henry 
 Fortescue to the family circle of General 
 Aveland was highly pleasing to all parties. 
 His cultivated mind, his literary know^- 
 ledge, his passion for music, and his fine 
 voice, contributed to their fire-side amuse- 
 ments ; while the sweetness of his disposi- 
 tion, and the endearing tenderness of his 
 manners, which a hundred little trifles dis- 
 played, made him, as usual, beloved by all 
 who saw him; and even Lucinda con- 
 trived to pass her Christmas very agreeably, 
 although it was in the country. She, how- 
 ever, rejoiced as the time approached to 
 call her back to the dear delights, the gay 
 diversions, of London ; and Miss Aveland, 
 for the /first time in her life, prepared to 
 quit the fostering arms of her doating 
 parents, in order to accompany the Miss 
 .Fortescues to Town, as. she was t^ of-
 
 llf THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 ficiate as bridesmaid at the wedding of 
 Lucinda. 
 
 General Aveland, in taking leave of his 
 young friends, pressed the hand of Henry, 
 and told him that he would entrust to his 
 brotherly care and protection the most va- 
 luable treasure he possessed, and should 
 expect to receive her from no other hands 
 than his and Lucinda's on their return to 
 Town, after they had passed the honey- 
 moon at the Abbey. Henry, with a grace 
 peculiar to himself, promised that Miss. 
 Aveland should share with Cecil his at- 
 tentions, and that he would himself restore 
 the lovely Julia to his arm&. The fond 
 parents were satisfied with this assurance, 
 and beheld their blooming child quit her 
 paternal roof, with the utmost confidence 
 of seeing her return safe, happy, and as 
 artless as when she left it. 
 
 The Viscount and his eldest son were 
 ready to receive them. Cecil flew to the 
 open arms of her father, and only left them 
 to embrace with inrreased ajffection the 
 lover of Lady Elvira ; then joined his hand
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 183 
 
 with that of Julia Aveland, whose name 
 he had so frequently heard her mention in 
 terms of tender friendship, but whom he 
 now beheld for the first time. 
 
 All was now bustle and preparation 
 among the Fortescue family. Henry alone 
 viewed with indifference the splendid jewels 
 and costly presents for his nuptials: such 
 baubles had no power over his well-regu- 
 lated mind, and he sighed as he perceived 
 the deep interest Lucinda felt in such 
 trifles. Idolized by his family, he sought 
 his happiness in the approving smiles of 
 his father, the endearments of his sister, 
 and the brotherly affection of Sidney. 
 
 On the morning which was to decide 
 the future peace of bis life, Henry received 
 the congratulations of his relations and 
 friends with calmness and serenity. His 
 father was particularly affected as he pre* 
 sented his beloved son with the hand of 
 Lucinda, and the tears trembled in the 
 eyes, of Cecil at the conclusion of the aw^e- 
 ful ceremony, which sealed for ever the 
 fete of her brother. 
 
 The beauty of the bride, heightened by
 
 lS4f THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 the blushes of modesty, and the tenderness 
 of her own feelings, the joyful counte- 
 nances of all around him, softened the heart 
 of Henry : he pressed his lips to those of 
 his trembling wife, and raising his fine 
 eyes to heaven, silently ejaculated a prayer 
 that he might ever possess the power to 
 render her as happy as she then was. Cecil 
 affectionately embraced her sister-in-law, 
 and the Viscount, as he folded her in his 
 arms, kissed with fatherly affection her 
 glowing cheek. 
 
 " Would that your father was here, my 
 dear child," said he, " to witness this hap- 
 py event, to behold the long desired wish 
 of his heart gratified ! Remember, my Lu- 
 cinda, that the happiness of my Henry is 
 entrusted to your keeping: he is worthy 
 of all your tenderness, all your obedi- 
 ence.'' 
 
 Lucinda, affected by the mention of her 
 father, and the words of her uncle, sunk 
 almost fainting on the shoulder of Henry, 
 who tenderly kissed off the tear that dim- 
 med the lustre of her sparkling eyes. After 
 taking jsome refreshment, they all set off to
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 185 
 
 pass a week at Sidney Lodge, an elegant 
 little cottage of the Viscount's, which he 
 had named in compliment' to his eldest 
 son. It was only eight miles from Town, and 
 so beautifully situated, that Sidney had ex- 
 pressed his admiration of it in the highest 
 terms. Unknown to him, his father had 
 recently re-decorated it, and had fitted it 
 up, according to the taste of his son, with 
 the most fashionable and expensive furni- 
 ture : every little ornament had been pro- 
 cured that his lordship thought would 
 give him pleasure ; and, on their arrival at 
 the Lodge, Sidney was agreeably surprised 
 by the unexpected alteration which it had 
 undergone : he was charmed with every 
 thing it contained, and the whole family 
 united in praising the taste and judgment 
 of the Viscount. 
 
 With a smile of self-approbation, his 
 lordship requested them to consider them- 
 selves not as his guests, but as the guests 
 of Sidney, to whom the Lodge now be- 
 longed. Delighted by this fresh mark of 
 his father's love, Sidney kissed the hand of 
 the Viscount, and in the warmth of the
 
 186 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 moment, thought only of repaying by the 
 strictest obedience his parental tenderness. 
 The remembrance, however, of the beautiful 
 object of his solicitude still continued to 
 haunt his imagination, as if determined to 
 put as much as possible to the test his filial 
 duty and affection. With all the ardour 
 of youth, he anticipated the happiness 
 which he should enjoy when at liberty^ 
 once more to breathe forth his sincere vows 
 of unabated love. Absence had heighten- 
 ed his passion, and increased its energy; he 
 had read of their arrival in Grosvenor 
 Square, and of their subsequent departure 
 for Dudley House. Disappointed at this 
 last information, he tried to draw consola- 
 tion from the certainty of beholding Lady 
 Elvira on the birth-day. Cheered by 
 this delightful hope, Sidney gave way ta 
 his natural vivacity, and left his guests na 
 cause to complain of his hospitality. 

 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 187 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Lord de Courci took the earliest op- 
 portunity to make known his wishes to 
 Lord Reginald, and was surprised at the 
 changeful countenance of his son, who 
 listened with trembling attention to the 
 desire of his father. 
 
 " Your silence amazes me,*' said his 
 lordship: "I should have supposed, Re- 
 ginald, that the bare idea of possessing 
 such a woman as Lady Elvira would fill 
 your bosom with rapture. At present she 
 is disengaged: in the solitude of the Castle 
 her affections cannot have been called 
 forth, and you have a fair chance of gain- 
 ing them. But you must not lose the 
 present moment. As soon as she is in- 
 troduced, hundreds of lovers will vie with 
 each other to obtain so glorious a prize. 
 I have acquainted you with my wishes.
 
 188 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 and shall disclose them as soon as possible 
 to your cousin." 
 
 " My dear father, forgive me ; in every 
 other instance your wishes shall be laws, 
 but in this one, wherein my future peace 
 is so sacredly involved, I cannot, alas! obey 
 you. My heart will never feel any other 
 affection for Elvira than that of a rela- 
 tion/' 
 
 Lord De Courci's astonishment for a 
 moment prevented his reply: at length — 
 *'• Not love Lady Elvira! You trifle with 
 me, Reginald: it is impossible that you 
 can mean it : she is formed to excite 
 love in the bosom of every man whose 
 affections are disengaged. I have set my 
 heart upon this match, and expect to be 
 obeyed." 
 
 Lord Reginald, embarrassed, sat silently 
 watching his father, who, incensed at the 
 cold indifference of his son towards so cap- 
 tivating an object, was walking rapidly up 
 and down the study. 
 
 " Your unnatural apathy," said he, 
 fixing his keen and penetrating eyes on 
 the confused countenance of Lord Regi*
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 189 
 
 nald, " can only proceed from one cause : 
 but remember, Sir, that the continuance of 
 my favour and affection depends on your 
 obedience, your strict attention to what 
 has ever been my first consideration — the 
 dignity of your family. Elvira's hand is 
 worthy the acceptance of a prince. Seek to 
 gain the treasure while you may, and learn 
 to model your own inclinations by the 
 duty you owe your father.** 
 
 He then left Lord Reginald, who never 
 before had experienced the displeasure of 
 a parent, and sought his beautiful niece. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear uncle ?** said 
 her ladyship: *' you look a little disturbed: 
 has any thing vexed you?** 
 
 " On the contrary,'* replied his lordship, 
 embracing her, " I was thinking of some- 
 thing which greatly concerns you, Elvira, 
 ^nd which would make me truly happy." 
 
 " Concerns me! What is it, dear uncle? 
 Pray tell me. I am sure if I can make you 
 happy I will." 
 
 '* Are you certain of that, Elvira? What 
 then if I were to solicit yoqr hand for my 
 son, would you comply with my request ?'*|
 
 190 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 Lady Elvira was completely taken by 
 surprise, but soon recovering herself, she 
 said with playful vivacity: — 
 
 " Nay, dear uncle, are you grown tired 
 of me already, that you so soon wish to 
 dispose of me?" 
 
 " I wish to secure yjou, my beloved 
 niece, in my own family. When you are 
 presented, some happy man may run away 
 with my charming Elvira; and I shall lose 
 all the pleasure I have promised myself 
 from her society." 
 
 *' Do not be afraid of that," replied her 
 ladyship, blushing at the recollection of 
 her intended elopement. " I have but 
 just emerged from the solitude of the 
 Castle, and have as yet hardly tasted the 
 luxury of freedom. Dear uncle, let me 
 enjoy the pleasures of the world a little 
 before you fetter me for life." 
 
 The Earl thought proper to drop the 
 subject for the present, gratified, however, 
 that his niece had not shown any posi- 
 tive dislike to his proposed alliance. In 
 truth, Lady Elvira was so fully engrossed 
 by the approaching presentation, that she
 
 THE SONS OF THE YISCOUNT. 191 
 
 •could hardly think for a moment on any 
 Other thing, while her sister «aw it draw 
 near with far different sensations. Inde- 
 pendent of her reluctance to the new life 
 she would then be obliged to lead, she 
 remembered that on the birth-day Henry 
 Fortescue and his bride would be pre- 
 sented. With sickening curiosity she read 
 over the news of the day, dreading, yet 
 expecting, to see his marriage announced. 
 
 The amiableness of her disposition, the 
 endearing winningness of her manner, 
 strongly attached Lord Desmond to her. 
 He felt in unison with his mother and 
 the son of the Earl, that Angeline De 
 Courci, the little timid retiring girl, barely 
 sixteen, was an object to inspire the ten- 
 derest affection, the most lasting friend- 
 ship ; and he regarded her in the light of a 
 beloved sister, while Lady Elvira's superior 
 beauty fascinated his senses alone. 
 
 Music Lady Angeline excelled in. 
 Mistress of the harp, wiiich sometimes she 
 assumed courage to accompany with her 
 voice, she enchanted her uncle and the 
 whole family, by the taste and feeling she
 
 192 THE SOXS OF THE VISCOtTNT, 
 
 displayed. The soft and mellow tones of 
 her rich harmonious voice stole sweetly 
 into the charmed hearts of her hearers ; and 
 Lady Elvira at these moments held but a 
 doubtful empire over the mind of her uncle. 
 Lady Desmond would press with maternal 
 fondness this lovely and highly interesting 
 girl to her bosom, and felt delighted as she 
 .saw that the refined and elegant mind of 
 her son evidently gave her darling the pre- 
 ference ; while Lord Reginald, lost in 
 thought, appeared unconscious of the ex- 
 quisite beauty of Lady Elvira, or the soul- 
 entrancing voice of her sister. Mary 
 Evelyn alone filled his heart, alone occu- 
 pied his thoughts. 
 
 His opportunities of seeing this amiable 
 girl were but few, as Lord Desmond in ge- 
 neral accompanied him in his rides. The 
 severity of the weather confined the ladies 
 chiefly to the house, but they had seen the 
 pretty cottage of Mrs. Evelyn, and inquired 
 who was its owner. 
 
 The -i)eauty of the sisters had reached 
 the ears of Mary and her mother : the for- 
 mer trembled for the fidelity of her lover.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 193 
 
 and the latter still continued bent upon re- 
 venging the insult his father had shown to 
 her daughter. Love has eagle eyes. The 
 pensive countenance of Mary did not 
 escape the notice of Lord Reginald, who^ 
 with doatiog fondness, inquired the cause. 
 
 " Dearest,*' he replied, straining her to 
 his bosom, " suspect not the constancy of 
 my love. Alread}^ has it been tried. My 
 father, who is blindly attached to my cou- 
 sin Elvira, is anxious to see me united to 
 her ; but fear not, Mary, for the fidelity of 
 your lover : the heart of Reginald is in 
 your keeping. I have sworn on those dear 
 lips to be thine only, and I will never fal- 
 sify my oath.'* 
 
 Mary, who had seen from the window 
 the fascinating Lady Elvira as she passed 
 her mother's cottage, could not help feeling 
 her superiority ; she therefore dreaded lest 
 the firmness of Lord Reginald's love should 
 give way, when tempted by such powerful 
 charms : for this reason she could only 
 answer with her tears. 
 
 " Still doubting, my beloved Mary? Will 
 your fears be hushed if I become your hus- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194* THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 band ? Will you then believe the honour, 
 the affection of your lover ?" 
 
 Mary gave him a look of grateful tender- 
 ness, and dried her doubting tears. Her 
 mother, still smarting from wounded pride, 
 consented to the proposal of a private mar- 
 riage, which was celebrated with all pos- 
 sible secrecy : and Mary, in the arms of her 
 adoring husband, forgot the superior beauty 
 of her exalted rival, and the formidable re- 
 sentment of the Earl, 
 
 Lord Reginald, trusting to the affection 
 of his father to pardon this first act of dis- 
 obedience, devoted to his Mary every mo- 
 ment that he could slip out unobserved 
 looking forward to his return to London 
 with bitter regret. The only hours that he 
 could dedicate to love were those when 
 all the family were retired to rest : then, 
 confiding to the prudence of his servant to 
 give if necessary the alarm, and to be ready 
 to receive him on his return, he stole si- 
 lently down the back stairs, and flew on 
 the wings of love to the habitations of hi? 
 expectant wife, '
 
 THE SONS OF THE TISCOUNT. 195 
 
 Lord De Courci, who felt dissatisfied and 
 offended at the strange, unnatural conduct 
 of his son, watched narrowly all his ac- 
 tions, and saw with increased mortification 
 that he studiously avoided more than ever 
 Lady Elvira ; while she, piqued at his cold- 
 ness, treated him with marked attention, 
 which contributed to his embarrassment, 
 and strengthened the anger of the Earl. 
 Determined again to remonstrate with his 
 son, he took the opportunity of Lord Re- 
 ginald's retiring one night earlier than 
 usual, and followed him a few minutes af- 
 terwards to his chamber^ for that purpose. 
 
 *' Where is Lord Reginald ?'* inquired 
 the Earl, as he entered the apartment of 
 his son. 
 
 The confusion of his servant was in- 
 stantly noticed by h\3 lordship, and he 
 again repeated his question. The poor fel- 
 low, stammering, said, that he believed his 
 master was gone out, but that he would go 
 and see. "No,*' replied the Earl, "stay where 
 you are ; 1 will wait here for his return.** 
 
 The embarrassment of the man increased, 
 as he was certain his master's nocturnal 
 
 K 2
 
 iS6 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 visits would now be discovered ; for Lord 
 De Courci had thrown himself upon a 
 couch with an evident determination to re- 
 main. It grew late, and no Lord Reginald 
 appeared. His father, too proud to ques- 
 tion his servant, ordered him to retire to his 
 master** dressing-room for the night, but 
 on pain of his displeasure not to stir from 
 that place until he received his per- 
 mission : then drawing the study chair of 
 his absent son to the fire-side, he took up a 
 book, vainly hoping to calm the agitation 
 of his mind, which was now filled with the 
 most painful suspicions. 
 
 At the accustomed hour. Lord Regi- 
 nald returned, and gave the usual signal, 
 which was heard by his father: he imme- 
 diately called the servant, and demanded 
 by what door he admitted his master. On 
 his replying, Lord De Courci hastily de- 
 scended, and to the inexpressible astonish- 
 ment of his son, gave him entrance. Pale, 
 trembling, and scarcely able to stand. Lord 
 Reginald followed his father to his own 
 apartments. 
 
 ''You may retire/' said the Earl to the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 197 
 
 servant, who gladly obeyed. '* And now, 
 my lord, it is necessary that you should 
 account for your absence — or shall 1 save 
 you the trouble ?** 
 
 Poor Lord Reginald at that moment 
 would have exchanged situations with his 
 meanest domestic. 
 
 " You passed your night at Mrs. Eve- 
 lyn's,*' said the Earl in a voice of thunder. 
 "Dare you deny it?" 
 
 Lord Reginald flung himself at his 
 father's feet, and implored his forgiveness. 
 
 '^ Rise," said his lordship with evident 
 emotion. " I pardon you, Reginald, on 
 condition that you do not repeat your 
 visits. Once I was struck myself with 
 the pretty face of Mary, and would have 
 purchased her love at any price ; but it 
 seems the son had more influence than the 
 father. I may excuse you this time, but I 
 expect that from this moment you give up 
 the connection." 
 
 The face of Lord Reginald became red 
 with agitation. The virtue of his Mary 
 -had been suspected ; and to clear her in- 
 
 K 3
 
 19S THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 nocence, he nobly resolved to brave ev^en 
 his father's resentment. 
 
 " Your suspicions, my lord, are un- 
 just/' said the generous husband of Lady 
 Mary. " Had 1 been capable of attempting 
 the virtue of the woman you think guilty, 
 I should have met with the just reward of 
 my temerity. The influence I possess over 
 the heart of Mary has honour and the 
 purest affection for its basis. It is impos- 
 sible, my lord, that I can obey you, with- 
 out violating the most solemn of all human 
 engagements." 
 
 Lord De Courci, thunderstruck at this 
 speech of his son, was convulsed by an- 
 ger. " Degenerate boy ! and is it thus you 
 brave my displeasure ? Instantly swear to 
 renounce Mary Evelyn, or henceforth for- 
 get you have a father.*' 
 
 " It is not in my power," replied Lord 
 Reginald. " At the foot of the altar I 
 swore to love, cherish, and protect her, and 
 no consideration, however great, shall make 
 me abandon her." 
 
 The idea of Mary's insulted virtue, the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 199 
 
 consciousness of possessing her entire love, 
 animated Lord Reginald to exert himself 
 in her defence, and he beheld the gather- 
 ing anger of the Earl with tolerable firm- 
 'ness. The pride of Lord De Courci wa$ 
 now called in question : his only son had 
 dared to unite himself to a woman of in- 
 ferior birth ; had dared in open defiance of 
 
 \ . . 
 
 his authority to introduce into his family 
 
 the last woman in the world he could ever 
 look upon with composure. He paced the 
 chamber speechless from disappointed 
 ambition, and wounded in the tenderest 
 point by this act of disobedience in his 
 only child. Parental tenderness one mo- 
 ment filled his bosom, the just resentment 
 of a father the next. 
 
 He stopped at length opposite to his son, 
 whose spirits began to sink : *' Rash young 
 man!** said his lordship in a voice which 
 betrayed more of sorrow than of anger. 
 " In uniting yourself for life to Miss 
 Evelyn, you consulted alone your own 
 passions : you forgot the long line of noble 
 ancestors from which you sprung : you 
 forgot the pain such a step would occasion 
 
 K 4
 
 200 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 a father who tenderly loved you, and \vho 
 looked up to you with pride and exulta- 
 tion, to continue the name and dignity of 
 his family. How you have rewarded my 
 affection, I leave it to your own heart to 
 judge." 
 
 Lord Reginald, softened by the tender, 
 reproachful voice of his father, melted into 
 tears : he attempted to speak, but his emo- 
 tions were too great. The Earl was silent 
 fpr a moment; then calling up all his firm- 
 ness, he fixed his eyes on the supplicating 
 face of iiis son, and in a tone very different 
 to the former, said with dignity, " I leave 
 you, Sir, to give orders for your things to 
 be sent to the Cottage. Never from this 
 hour obtrude yourself on my sight. I con- 
 sider you no longer as my son, and com- 
 mand you never again to enter a house of 
 mine. In sacrificing^ your father's peace of 
 mind, the opinions of the world, and the 
 honour of your illustrious family, to a 
 boyish love-fit, you have for ever disgraced 
 yourself in m}^ estimation, and rendered 
 yourself an alien to my affection." 
 
 Saying tliis, he retired, leaving Lord
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. fOl 
 
 Reginald in the deepest affliction. He, 
 however, rang for his servant, and ordered 
 him to carry his things to Mrs. Evelyn's 
 as quick as possible, and to remain there 
 himself. Then hastily quitting the cham- 
 ber, he was leaving perhaps for ever the 
 mansion of his father, when the friendly 
 voice of Lord Desmond arrested his steps. 
 Judging from the look and manner of the 
 Earl, whom he had passed on the stairs, 
 that something had happened, he anxiously 
 sought his cousin. 
 
 Lord Reginald, in considerable agitation^ 
 took his arm, and they both left the house. 
 The unhappy son of Lord De Courci now 
 confessed his indiscreet marriage, and his 
 own banishment, and in the friendly sym- 
 pathy of his cousin found some relief to 
 his distress. Lord Desmond, in the kind- 
 est manner, endeavoured to sooth his agi- 
 tated relation: he promised to call on him 
 daily at the Cottage, during their short stay 
 at Dudley House, and bade him trust to 
 time, which would soften the resentment 
 of his uncle, and restore him to his af- 
 fection. 
 
 K 5
 
 ^09 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 " In the meanwhile, my dear cousin, 
 draw upon me for whatever sum you may 
 require ; in so doing you will make me the 
 debtor." 
 
 Lord Reginald affectionately thanked 
 him ; and as they were now in view of 
 Mrs. Evelyn's romantic habitation, his 
 cousin took leave, promising to call next 
 day, and inform him of all that had 
 passed. 
 
 The vacant seat of the Earl's son at the 
 breakfast table called forth inquiries as to 
 the cause of his absence : and his father, 
 who could but ill conceal his feelings, re- 
 peated his son's daring disobedience, and 
 his own determinatiofi of casting him off 
 for ever. All the family deeply felt for 
 this real misfortune: all pitied, although 
 they blamed Lord Reginald ; and the tears 
 which streamed from the eyes of Lady 
 Desmond, and her youngest niece, spoke 
 more than w^ords their mutual grief. 
 
 The deep resentment of Lord De Courci, 
 and his apparent resolution of never again 
 beholding or speaking to his son, made a 
 strong impression en the minds of the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 203 
 
 sisters, who, as soon as they were alone, 
 gave freedom to their thoughts. 
 
 " I am sorry for my cousin," said Lady 
 Elvira, " and forgive him now for his in- 
 difference towards myself. Poor fellow ! 
 I long to see his Mary : I dare say she is 
 very pretty.** 
 
 " How severely will she reproach her- 
 self for the misery she has brought on Re- 
 ginald !" replied her sister. " I should never 
 be happy, if through any weakness or im- 
 prudence of mine I entailed a father's dis- 
 pleasure on the man I loved. Oh ! Elvira, 
 how grateful ought you to feel for the kind 
 interference of Henry Fortescue — but fox 
 him, how wretched you might now have 
 been 1" 
 
 Lady Elvira coloured at the recollectioa 
 of Sidney. 
 
 " I believe all is for the best," said she. 
 '' I confess I should not much like to be 
 shut up, in a little cottage, with the curse 
 of the incensed Viscount hanging over my 
 head. And yet, Sidney is so handsome, 
 so elegant, so persuasive, that I wonder 
 how I had resolution to withstand his en-
 
 §04 THB SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 treaties, and listen to the sober advice of 
 hi^ brother. 1 am very glad that I did 
 now, for my uncle also would have been 
 offended, and I should have to wait some 
 years before I came of age/* 
 
 " I shall feel myself eternally obliged to 
 Henry Fortescue/' replied Lady Augeline, 
 blushing as she spoke, " for the essential 
 service he rendered my dear Elv ira.** 
 
 " You are a good little girl, Angeline, 
 and I love you dearly ; but I must go now 
 and look for Desmond. I want him to ac- 
 company me to see Reginald's bride : of 
 course I shall not tell my uucle of our 
 visit." 
 
 *' And I also should like to assure her 
 of jny friendship," said her sister ; " but 
 this cruel cold, which still oppresses me, 
 will keep me a prisoner a day or two longer. 
 If you go, Elvira, give my love to them 
 both, and tell Reginald that 1 will see him 
 the first moment I can venture out." 
 
 Lady Desmond now entered, and re- 
 quested her to read the papers to her, 
 while Lady Elvira took a walk with her 
 cousin.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 205 
 
 Almost the first paragraph that met the 
 eye of Lady Angeline announced \fehe 
 marriage of the youngest son of the Vis- 
 count with his cousin. She had not power 
 to read it aloud : a mist came over her 
 eyes, and she with difficulty saved herself 
 from fain tin «•. 
 
 '* Your cold is worse, Angeline, I 
 think," said her aunt. '' You musttake 
 more care of yourself, my dearest girl, and 
 get quite well before the birth-day." 
 
 *' The birth-day 1'* repeated her niece 
 faintly: oh ! how I dread that day !** 
 
 Lady Desmond gently chid her for her 
 fears, and reminded her that she had no 
 cause to dread the graciousness of the 
 reception she would meet with. Then 
 taking the paper from the trembling hand ^ 
 of her niece, she began to read the news 
 of the day. 
 
 The same paragraph fixed the attentkin 
 of Lady Desmond, and a deep sigh es- 
 caped her as she said, " Pray heaven they 
 may be happy ! If he is like his father, 
 she ought to think herself the most fortu- 
 nate of women/'
 
 206 THE SONS OP THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 The heart of Lady Angeline beat in 
 unison with her aunt's : she raised her 
 swimming eyes, and saw the expressive 
 countenance of Lady Desmond clouded 
 by painful recollections. " i do not won- 
 der," thought she, " at my aunt*s unsub- 
 dued affection. If the Viscount is like his 
 son, it is not easy to forget such a man." 
 Then remembering what must have been 
 the sufferings of Lady Desmond, she be- 
 came so agitated, that her aunt tenderly 
 desired her to lie down, and remain in her 
 chamber all that day, in order to nurse her 
 cold. 
 
 Glad of an opportunity to indulge freely 
 her own secret thoughts. Lady Angelin© 
 willingly complied, and by the help of 
 reason and religion^ gained the ascendency 
 over her wandering heart. 
 
 Lady Elvira soon returned, well pleased 
 with the animated and lively appearance 
 of Xord Reginald's handsome bride, who, 
 on her part, felt extremely grateful for the 
 attention and kindness shewn her by her 
 beautiful rival. 
 
 Lady Desmond, and the good old Lady
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 207 
 
 Dorothea Archdale, endeavoured to per- 
 suade the Earl to look over this first act of 
 disobedience ; but the pride of Lord De 
 Courci was too deeply wounded to listen 
 to any overtures of reconciliation ; and 
 they were compelled to give up for the 
 present all hopes of that kind. 
 
 Lady Angeline, as soon as she could 
 leave the house, aoicompanied her cousin 
 to Mrs. Evelyn's. Lord Reginald affec- 
 tionately embraced her, and presented her 
 to his Mary. The delicacy of her lady- 
 ship's behaviour, the sweet sympathy she 
 expressed for their present situation ; the 
 endearing manner in which she requested 
 them to consider her as warmly attached 
 to their interests, completely won the 
 hearts of Mrs. Evelyn and her daughter. 
 
 The latter promised with grateful plea- 
 sure to write constantly to her ladyship 
 after her departure, nor could she cease 
 talking of the amiable and gentle Lady 
 Angeline for the whole of the day. 
 
 Lord Reginald joined warmly in her 
 praise. " Had my heart been free from 
 the magic of thy charms, my Mary/^ said
 
 20S THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 he affectionately, " it would certainly have 
 been devotedly attached to my cousin 
 Angeline. I should still have been diso- 
 bedient/* A sigh escaped him. 
 
 " But your father/* she replied, throw- 
 ing her arms around him, " would have 
 easily forgiven you, dearest Reginald, as 
 you would then have married your equal/* 
 
 He pressed her to his bosom with rap- 
 turous tenderness, and kissed away a tear 
 which had fallen on her cheek. " You 
 are my equal in all,** he replied ; " all but 
 an empty title. Your love, my Mary, 
 will repay me for the present vexation I 
 own I am suffering under; and time, and 
 the kindness of my friends, will I hope 
 soften the heart of my father, and restore 
 ine to his favour.** 
 
 The steady friendship of Lord Desmond, 
 who did not suffer a day to elapse without 
 seeing his exiled cousin, afforded great 
 comfort and consolation to Lord Reginald: 
 he promised to be a constant correspon- 
 dant, and had been the bearer of a letter 
 from his mother, who tenderly reproached 
 her nephew for his rashness ; but assured
 
 THE SONS OF THE YISCOUNT. 509 
 
 him that she would let no opportunity 
 .escape that offered itself of softening the 
 anger of his father. She desired her kind- 
 est remembrance to his wife, and bade 
 them not give way to despair. 
 
 The sisters also called on him, and took 
 an affectionate leave of Lady Mary, who, 
 as she pressed the hand of Lady Angeline 
 to her lips, whispering, conjured her for 
 the sake of Reginald to use all her influ- 
 ence with his farther. 
 
 " He strives to hide from me his re- 
 grets," said she ; " but I see that my Re- 
 ginald cannot taste of happiness while 
 suffering under the displeasure of the Earl. 
 Oh! my kind friend, my imprudence has 
 drawn upon him this severe banish- 
 ment." 
 
 Xady Angeline tenderly embraced her. 
 "' Hope every thing for the best, my dear 
 Mary. You must make some allowance for 
 the present feelings of Lord De Courci : 
 his resentment must have time to diminish. 
 All that I dare venture to say, trust me, I 
 will ; and believe that all my eloquence
 
 210 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUXT. 
 
 shall be exerted for your interest, at a pro* 
 per time." 
 
 Lord Reginald took leave of them on 
 their departure for London with a pang of 
 self-reproach, which could only be drivert 
 away by the smiles and tender endearment* 
 of his wife. 
 
 Grateful for the kindness of his cousins, 
 and the promised mediation of his aunt, 
 he determined to wait patiently until the 
 favourable moment arrived for them to 
 plead his cause, and resolved to continue 
 at Evelyn^s cottage during his father's re- 
 sidence in Town, secretly hoping that be- 
 fore his return to Dudley House he should 
 receive the joyful news of his forgiveness. 
 
 Not a word escaped the lips of Lord De 
 Coqrci relative to his son : he talked as 
 usual with his sister and Lady Dorothea, 
 romped with his nieces, while to his 
 nephew he behaved with redoubled affec- 
 tion : yet his heart felt deeply the estrange- . 
 ment of his only -son : and had he married 
 any other woman than Mary Evelyn, his, 
 parental love might, perhaps, have the
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT, 511 
 
 more readily excused the crime of Lord 
 Heginald. 
 
 With a countenance which aimed at 
 gaiety, but which ill concealed his inward 
 emotions, Lord De Courci handed his 
 beautiful nieces to the carriage, which 
 soon conveyed them far away from the 
 exiled Reginald and his interesting wife. 
 Lady Elvira^s spirits rose in proportion as 
 she approached the metropolis : at length 
 they reached Grosvenor Square, and she 
 again entered the splendid mansion of her 
 uncle, with a heart throbbing w^ith 
 expectation of future pleasures, future bliss. 
 
 The momentous affair of their court- 
 dresses was now the ' principal object of 
 consideration. Lady Elvira wished her*s to 
 be ornamented with the blossoms of yellow 
 laburnum. 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed her sister, with a 
 shudder of horror, " for mercy's sake, El- 
 vira, do not think of yellow laburnum : 
 you know I cannot bear that flower.'* 
 
 Lady Elvira immediately recollected 
 herself : 
 
 *' Well then,'* said she, my aunt Des-
 
 21$ THE SONS OF THE VISCOUKT. 
 
 mond shall decide for us. I will be guided 
 by her superior taste/* 
 
 " And why, my love," inquired Lady 
 Desmond, " should you have such a dis- 
 like to one of the most graceful of our 
 flow^ers ? I, indeed," sighing deeply as 
 she spoke, " have reason to look upon it 
 with horror; but your aversion, my sweet 
 girl, seems rather extraordinary/' 
 
 " Angelina is a great oddity, my dear 
 aunt ; but she shall have her way. We 
 will leave this very important affair entirely 
 to you." 
 
 Lady Desmond, recovering from the re- 
 collection of past events, gave it as her 
 opinion that dresses of the apple-blossom 
 would suit the delicacy of their fine com- 
 plexions. She recommended them to wear 
 plumes of white ostrich feathers, with coro- 
 nets of diamonds : their dresses and persons 
 to be ornamented with the same jewels. 
 
 To this they readily assented. Lady 
 Elvira had a superb set belonging to her 
 mother : and Lord De Courci had present- 
 ed his little Angeline with one to match 
 her sister's.
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 213 
 
 The Duchess of Aimhigh and her 
 daughters were the first to welcome their 
 return to London. 
 
 " Do you know,** cried Lady Clemen- 
 tina, " that we have lost one of our hand- 
 somest beaux. I am quite in the dolours 
 I assure you. Henry Fortescue, the young- 
 est son of the Viscount, has turned Bene- 
 dict, and married his cousin." 
 
 *' What a pity!" said Lady Elvira, 
 laughing. "You seem so terribly distressed 
 about it, that I should suspect — only that 
 I know her Grace has higher views." 
 
 "Yes, yes," hastily replied her ladyship. 
 '* Mamma I know intends me for the Duke 
 of Auburn ; but I would sooner have had 
 Harry Fortescue than all the Dukes in the 
 world. Heigh ho ! he and his bride will 
 be presented on their marriage at the birth- 
 day, and you can then judge for yourself." 
 
 " Dear, Clement, you make such a fuss 
 about Harry Fortescue," said Lady Lucy. 
 " I am sure his brother is much his su- 
 perior." 
 
 " That is your want of taste," angrily 
 retorted her sister. " You are no more a 
 judge of manly beauty than our old nurse.
 
 214 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 What do you think?*' addressing herself to 
 Lady Eh ira. '' She actually persists that 
 Everard Wrottesley is not half so hand- 
 some as his brother Herbert. But I for- 
 got that you have not seen any of them. 
 Well, after the birth-day mamma gives a 
 ball, and then you will have an opportu- 
 nity of seeing them all. I know you will 
 think as I do.'* 
 
 " Does Lord Fortescue visit her Grace?'* 
 timidly inquired Lady Angeline. 
 
 " He is quite a quiz/' replied Lady Cle- 
 mentina, " and seldom or ever goes to any 
 parties. His sons, however, always at- 
 tend at mamma's routs. They are charm- 
 ing goodnatured creatures; but I am so 
 sorry that Henry is married." 
 
 " What sort of a being is his bride?" 
 inquired Lady Elvira : " but your ladyship 
 is prejudiced against her." 
 
 " No indeed, I will speak the truth," 
 said Lady Clementina. " She is a very 
 pretty dashing girl, and remarkably good- 
 humoured, only a little too gay for Harry. 
 The old people made up the match, or else 
 I really think he would never have selected 
 Lucinda for his wife."
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 215 
 
 Lady Elvira looked archly in her face. 
 " I am afraid the Duke of Auburn is not 
 much to be envied." 
 
 Her ladyship coloured violently, and bit 
 her glove, while her sister laughed hearti- 
 ly, and enjoyed her confusion. " Poor 
 Clementina,'' said she, pulling Lady Ange- 
 Jine aside, " is sadly mortified by this mar- 
 riage of Marry Fortescue. I verily believe 
 that she encouraged the hope of its being 
 broken off, and of his having her- 
 self." 
 
 *' Indeed T* exclaimed Lady Angeiine^ 
 hardly ' knowing what she said : " but 
 did Mr. Fortescue ever profess any at- 
 tachment to her ladyship?" 
 
 " Not that I know of," replied Lady 
 Lucy; " but Clement is an admirable 
 dancer, and he generally contrived to have 
 her for a partner. Between ourselves, he 
 is a young man that any woman might 
 be excused for loving." 
 
 " What are you saying there ?" de- 
 manded her sister. " I hope you are 
 at npne of your folly, Lucy. You must 
 not believe all she says, I assure you, Lady 
 Angeline, for she is a sad romancer."
 
 916 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 'f She has not uttered any thing but 
 truth just now, 1 will venture to affirm,** 
 said Lady Angeline, trying to be gay. 
 " We were talking on a subject which 
 admits of no romancing.** 
 
 " She can be very provoking when she 
 likes,'* retorted Lady Clementina: then 
 turning again to Lady Elvira, " Your 
 cousin Desmond is a remarkably fine 
 young man. I dare say he will do a great 
 deal of mischief this winter. But what 
 has become of Lord Reginald ? Is he not 
 come to Town ? I have half a mind to set 
 my cap at him, now that I have lost my 
 best beau.** 
 
 Lady Elvira answered in the negative; 
 and luckily the approach of the Duchess 
 prevented her from framing an excuse for 
 his absence, which she at that moment 
 was wholly unprepared for. 
 
 " Do not forget,'* said her Grace, " that 
 my ball is fixed for the second night after 
 the birth-day ; then, my dear little girls, 
 prepare for conquests. I have already 
 secured you capital partners ; so pray hold 
 yourselves disengaged. Lord De Courci 
 tells me that he cannot make one at my
 
 THE SONS OF IHE VISCOUNT. 517 
 
 supper-table ; but your aunt, Lady Des- 
 mond, and her son, will accompany you. 
 You may rely upon my being in time at . 
 Court to present you. Keep up your 
 spirits, my dear little girls: upon my troth, 
 you have nothing to fear." Then shaking 
 them kindly by the hand, she left the 
 sisters, followed by her handsome daugh- 
 ters. 
 
 " I am greatly mistaken," whispered 
 Ladv Elvira, '' if the sons of old Crab- 
 tree have not made a deep impression on 
 the hearts of our new friends. Lady Lu€y 
 ^ am certain is more than half in love with 
 Sidney, and there is not even the shadow 
 of a doubt about the state of her sister'^ 
 affections. I should have thought it a 
 most advantageous match for young Pru- 
 dence> but I suppose that his filial obe- 
 dience overcame his secret inclinations/* 
 
 *' It does not appear that he was ini 
 love with Lady Clementina," replied her 
 sister confusedly. 
 
 *' Lord bless you, child !" exclaimed 
 Lady Elvira : '* love is seldom or ever an 
 inmate of fashionable life. The daughters 
 
 VOL, I, L
 
 218 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 
 
 of our good friend the Duchess of Aim- 
 high tell me that the heart is never con- 
 sulted ; all its tender affections give place 
 to interest and ambition. As soon as a 
 girl of any rank is presented, her parents 
 or friends immediately look out for the 
 ,most eligible match, anxious to dispose 
 of her, in fact, before her beauty has lost 
 its novelty ; and she is therefore sacrificed 
 to him who can make her the most splen- 
 did establishment, even should he be the 
 object of her dislike and aversion." 
 
 Lady Angeline shuddered. " Heaven- 
 defend us from the baneful influence of 
 such a system ! I should prefer a life of 
 eternal celibacy, or even death, before 
 such a marriage : would not 3'ou, JEl- 
 vira ?*' ^ ^ 
 
 " I have not thought about it,", re- 
 plied the beautiful object of Sidney's 
 adoration ; " yet I believe that when I am 
 tempted to resign the dear delights of li- 
 berty, and the freedom of a single life, 
 I shall be solicitous to make as good an 
 appearance in the world as I can." 
 
 Lady Angeline was silent. These were
 
 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT. 219 
 
 not the sentiments she had expected from 
 one, who, a short time back, had been 
 willing to risk every thing for love. So ill 
 did they accord with the delicacy of her 
 own mind, that she found herself unable 
 and unwilling to reply to them; yet she 
 hoped that they might be attributed to 
 the natural levity of her sister's disposi- 
 tion, rather than to the natural levity of 
 her heart. With concern she had beheld 
 her strong inclination to coquet with Lord 
 Reginald, bad he been inclined to return 
 her advances. Believing her still attach- 
 ed to the son of the Viscount, Lady 
 A ngeline. thought her sister's conduct 
 incomprehensible : it was so directly 
 opposite to that, which, under the same 
 circumstances, she herself would have 
 adopted. Yet the tenderness of her affec- 
 tion for Lady Elvira made her solicitous 
 to find excuses for all her failings, which 
 she generally attributed to a too great 
 consciousness of her own personal charms. 
 Even the pure and innocent mind of Lady 
 Angeline thought that a little vanity was 
 allowable in one so pre-eminently formed
 
 220 THE SONS OF THE VISCOUNT* 
 
 to attract universal admiration, universal 
 homage ; and with the generosity of real 
 and disinterested friendship, she gave her 
 sister credit for virtues which in reality 
 she did not possess. 
 
 With affectionate delight this amiable 
 girl gazed on the enchanting: person of her 
 beautiful sister, and felt sjme compensa- 
 tion for the sacrifice of her own inclina- 
 tions, as she beheld the joy which Lady 
 Elvira evidently betrayed as the day ap- 
 proached which was to introduce her into 
 life, and to present once more, to her sight 
 the enamoured son of Lord Fortescue, 
 
 ENI> OP VOL. I. 
 
 B. Clarke, Printer, Well Street, London.
 
 UNIVER9.TY0F.UJN0|J-UBB^