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 V. I
 
 //
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY: 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 'THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE," ''CLARE AEBEY," 
 
 &c.. &c. 
 
 " We may accuse our nature, but it is our pleasure ; -we may pretend 
 weakness, but it is wilfulness wliich is the guilty cause of our misde- 
 meanours ; for, by God's help, we may be as good as we please, if we can 
 please to be good." — Bab row's Sekmons. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1854.
 
 M, S. MYERS, PEINTER, 
 22 TAVISTOCK STREET, CO VENT GARDEN.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGnBY. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 *' Oh ! my best sir, take heed, 
 Take heed of &." 
 
 Beaumont and Eletchee. 
 
 "^^ *^ "What are you doing here, Ealph?" 
 
 S exclaimed a young man, laying liis hand 
 
 >^ 
 
 ^ on the shoulder of another, as he stood 
 
 transfixed before the window of a print shop, 
 
 in Eegent Street. 
 \ "Nothing, my dear fellow.'' 
 ^ " Then what are you going to do ?" 
 yoL. I. B
 
 A EDWARD WJLLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^^ Xotliing, my dear fellow, I assure you ; 
 nothing at all." 
 
 '-'- Then, my dear fellow," said the new 
 comer, laughingly imitating his fi'iend's pecu- 
 liar mode of address, '^ will you walk with 
 me ? for I want to speak to you." 
 
 " I shall be too happy. But stay, Edward, 
 what do you think of that face ? — that was 
 what I was looking at, I believe." 
 
 It was the head of a Madonna, remarkable, 
 not so much for divine beauty, as for the ex- 
 pression of a more earthly perfection — a look 
 of guileless purity and stedfast truth. 
 
 The Edward thus addressed paused as he was 
 moving away, and returned to look at the print 
 in question : it seemed to rivet his fancy. 
 '-^ Such a face," he said at last, in reply, "as 
 awes and shames a man's bad nature." 
 And there was something like a sigh as he 
 spoke.
 
 EDWAED WILLOrGHBT. 6 
 
 "That was what I felt, at least I think it 
 was. I wonder how long I have been here." 
 
 " Shall I ask ?" said his companion laugh- 
 ingly. " I should suppose it might have been 
 two hours ; you looked as if you were estab- 
 lished for the day.'' 
 
 "Xo, not so long," he replied gravely; 
 "but it doesn't matter, it has done me good. 
 Xow, Edward, I am quite at your service." 
 And he moved on. 
 
 Edward stood for another moment with 
 his eyes on the ^Madonna ; then following his 
 friend, and putting his arm within his, they 
 went off tosiether. 
 
 This friend, Ealph Caradoc by name (the 
 surname pronounced at fiill length with care 
 and pride, and not degraded to the abbrevia- 
 tion, Cradock), was a tall young man of nine- 
 and-twenty or thirty. His figure was un- 
 graceful, his features large, and his fair com- 
 
 B 2
 
 4 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 plexion freckled and sunbumt ; yet, notwitli- 
 standing the lack of personal beauty, no one 
 ever looked in his honest, good-tempered face 
 without pleasure. His mental qualities had 
 something of the same lack as his bodily 
 ones, and the same charm also. He was what 
 is commonly called " slow ;" his manner and 
 way of speaking was slow, his ideas slow ; he 
 was also remarkable for many little peculia- 
 rities — one above all of taking everything 
 au pied cle la lettre^ which made it impossible 
 not to laugh at him, even to his face ; yet, 
 at the same time, there was a genuine sim- 
 plicity in liis character, a straightforwardness 
 and truth, an absence of all pretension, and 
 a forgetfulness of self, which, united with good 
 common sense, commanded for him a degree 
 of respect and attachment many cleverer men 
 fail to obtain. If he had a failing, it was 
 one that leaned to virtue's side — a too kind
 
 EDWAED ^T:LL0UGHBY. 
 
 heart, whose dictates were occasionaUv per- 
 mitted to warp the clearness of his judg- 
 ment. 
 
 His companion was veiy different, in mind, 
 manner, and appearance. He was only a little 
 above the middle size, and was very slightly 
 formed; but though thin and slight, there 
 was a strong appearance of muscular strength 
 about him, enough, indeed, to detract from 
 the beauty of a well-proportioned frame, had 
 not the expression it gave him more than coun- 
 terbalanced the want. He was vigour, force, 
 and resolution all over. At a distance he 
 might have been called boyish, for he had 
 fau' hair, blue eyes, and a fair, clear skin ; 
 but on a nearer inspection he might have 
 been supposed to be older even than he was, 
 and he was seven-and-twenty, for there were 
 lines of thought on his brow, and a care- 
 worn expression ui his countenance which
 
 6 EDWAED -W^LLOUGHBY. 
 
 had little of youtli about it. His features 
 were good ; and though too thin and bony 
 to be called handsome, his appearance was 
 very pleasing ; it would have been more so 
 but for an occasional expression of bitterness 
 and sarcasm about the mouth which contra- 
 dicted his clear eyes and sweet smile. It 
 was difficult to see him without interest — 
 impossible to meet the flash of those light eyes 
 without feeling there was character beneath ; 
 but the interest was of a mixed, and not 
 always of a pleasing, kind. 
 
 "Where are you going, Edward?" asked 
 the elder of the two, as the insensible will 
 of the younger guided their steps into 
 Portland Place; "not into the Eegent'sPark!" 
 
 " And why not into the Eegent's Paik ?" 
 
 "]S«'o reason on earth; but people, don't 
 you know, at this time of day — " 
 
 "Don't talk to me about people, Ealph,'*
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 7 
 
 he said impatiently , ^^ people are nothing to 
 me. I want to speak to you in peace and 
 quiet without having to nod and smirk twenty 
 times in a minute. I wish people would forget 
 me. I thought two years abroad would 
 have done that for me if it did no other 
 good." 
 
 '' London's very full indeed/' observed his 
 companion ; '' I like it better myself when it 
 is empty." 
 
 They walked some way in silence. Ealph 
 then said, " Can I do anything for you, 
 Edward ? I hope I need not say that it will 
 make me happy if I can." 
 
 '' That I know, Ealph, or I should not ask 
 what I am going to ask. It is a mawkish 
 thing to say to a man's face, but I do believe 
 that you are the best and truest friend that 
 ever was bom into this world." 
 
 ^^My dear fellow,'' Ealph cried, colouring 
 all over, *^you are very kind."
 
 8 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " So are you, Ealph : and now, hang sen- 
 timent, and let us come to the point. What 
 I want to ask yon is, did you ever," — here he 
 paused and smiled, then drawing his lips into 
 an expression of extreme gravity, continued 
 — "did you ever read ^ Pride and Prejudice.' " 
 
 An ejaculation of wild wonder was the 
 only answer to this question. 
 
 " Because if you have read it," Edward 
 proceeded in a tone of grave interest, " I want 
 to know what is your opinion of Mr. Collins,'' 
 
 Eeceiving for answer another ejaculation 
 only of like import, and reading in his 
 friend's expressive countenance a very 
 evident fear of his sanity, he went on with 
 a smile. " For my part I have always 
 looked upon him as a very sensible man. In 
 such circumstances, having the misfortune to 
 have an estate entailed upon him against his 
 will, it was only natural that he should wish 
 to make some reparation, and what could he
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. U 
 
 do but what he did. What do you think, 
 Ealph?'^ 
 
 The eyes came down from the roots of his 
 hair, and a look of dawning intelligence was 
 visible. ^ ' Do you know you really frightened 
 me, Edward ? I beg your pardon for being so 
 dull. Xow I begin to see, he married his 
 cousin, I think?'' 
 
 '^ Xo, he did not, because he could not ; 
 but that is no matter, he wished to marry 
 her, which is the part of his behaviour which 
 has always excited my admiration and sym- 
 pathy, and to which I wish to direct yoiu- 
 present attention ; and now I ask you again, 
 what do you think of it ?" 
 
 '^ I think it was a good plan if he loved 
 his cousin, not otherwise.'' 
 
 " Wisdom itself ! Ealph," said his com- 
 panion, laughing at the tone of strong sense 
 in which this judgment was pronounced.
 
 10 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^' Solomon could not have spoken Letter ! 
 Well, my idea is the same, and I mean to act 
 npon it. I mean to marry one of my cousins 
 — second cousins, you remember; — that is 
 unless they use me as poor Mr. Collins was 
 used." 
 
 " But I thought there were difficulties, 
 Edward — I thought, I am sure I beg your 
 pardon, but I thought the father hated 
 you." 
 
 " So he does, most heartily ; but difficulties 
 never stand in the way of a real wish — do 
 they ? — at any rate they will not stand in 
 mine. As long as I can remember I have 
 wished to end this foolish enmity, and my 
 mother" — and his voice as he pronounced the 
 word changed to one of singular softness, — 
 '' wished it also. I don't mean to say that 
 Sir Hugh has not good reason to dislike nie ; 
 I am quite aware he has ; but let him judge
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 11 
 
 me fairly and justly ; not as now by that 
 monster — report, but by myself, bad and good 
 together — then if the enmity is to go on, why 
 at least there is sense in it. If after 
 acquaintance he hates me still, there is 
 nothing more to be said. Xo man can help 
 his likes and dislikes, and I for one 
 should be sorry if he could ; but let us be 
 reasonable in our hate ; and above all do not let 
 feuds go on from generation to generation 
 without at least a fair trial to end them." 
 
 " There you are very right, Edward ; they 
 are shameful things. But what do you 
 mean to do ? Can I do anything ? I am en- 
 tirely at your service." 
 
 ^'I mean you to do something, Ealph, 
 which I will tell you presently. First let 
 me tell you what I have done myself. I 
 said 1 always hated this enmity. Six years 
 ago when my father died, I felt this so
 
 12 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 strongly that I wi^ote to Sir Hiigli to beg him 
 to make up. Here is his answer, I brought 
 it to-day to show you, that you may see the 
 nature of the man." 
 
 He drew a letter from his pocket ; though 
 but a few words, it was written on a large 
 sheet of paper in a clear bold hand. 
 
 " Middlethorpe, June 12, 1814. 
 ^' Sir Hugh Willoughby has received Mr. 
 "Willoughby's letter, and begs that it may be the 
 last time he addresses him. Mr. Willoughby 
 seems to be fond of quoting proverbs. Sir 
 Hugh Willoughby has heard this proverb — 
 ^ He that touches pitch shall be defiled.' He 
 begs Mr. Willoughby to think of it. ^o 
 acquaintance could make him think better or 
 worse of his character. He knows already 
 as much as he wishes to know." 
 
 "ITot much opening for a reconciliation
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. IS 
 
 there, Ealph,'' Edward remarked, as his friend 
 returned tlie letter with a shake of his head 
 and an elevation of his eyebrows ; ^' but I 
 partly blame myself for that. When I wrote 
 that letter I was a young philanthropist ;" — 
 his lips curled with an expression of scorn 
 and bitterness as he spoke — ^^I looked on 
 myself as one of the appointed regenerators 
 of mankind, and I wrote, I don't doubt, in a 
 good lecturing style. As to my proverbs, I 
 don't remember what they were, except 
 that I believe I said, " let bygones be by- 
 gones," — a proverb to which I have much 
 attachment. However, this is not to the 
 purpose. I failed, and so utterly failed that 
 any attempt by letter for the future must be 
 in vain. I did, in a year's time, write again, 
 — ^but my letter was unnoticed. It was a good 
 one, but the old remembrance was, and I 
 fancy is, too strong. However unexception-
 
 14 ED WARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ally I may demean myself, I am nothing but 
 pitch to him. Other attempts I have made, 
 through other persons — I will not trouble you 
 with the account — they have all failed ; and 
 nothing now remains but an attempt in per- 
 son. That is my present plan." 
 
 "And it is a good one, Edward," Ealph 
 said heartily. " Letters often make things 
 worse. People have a preconceived idea; 
 but go in person with a bold heart and 
 an honest purpose, and the manner of a gen- 
 tleman, and you will seldom fail." 
 
 " True enough, perhaps, Ealph ; but how 
 is it to be done ? If I were announced as 
 Mr. Willoughby, I should be taken by the left 
 leg and thrown down stairs, before I had 
 time to exhibit my honest purposes, or my 
 beautiful.manners . ' ' 
 
 " I don't know that, "Ealph began, gravely 
 and slowly ; but was impatiently interrupted 
 by his companion —
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 15 
 
 ^^Ah! Ealph, but I do know; and so I 
 have made up my mind to go in disguise." 
 
 '' My dear fellow ! " ejaculated Ealph, 
 stopping and withdrawing his arm from his 
 companion in the very middle of a crossing. 
 
 '^ Yes, in disguise, Ealph — but this is not 
 exactly the proper est place for a discussion. 
 Come on and I will tell you my plan. There 
 is a little shooting lodge to be let about two 
 miles from Middlethorpe. I know nothing 
 about it — for, though I was down there once, 
 I was not then thinking of the lodge ; but, 
 I am told that, for the kind of thing, it is a 
 peculiarly decent little hole. This lodge, 
 my dear Mr. Caradoc, I mean you to hire for 
 the approaching shooting season ; and, having 
 hired it, I mean you to go down and take 
 possession. Then, as I presume, you will 
 not wish to remain in solitude, I intend you 
 to invite, as will be natural, a friend to pass
 
 IG EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 a few weeks with you — and that friend I 
 intend to be. I shall come down as a stran- 
 ger, bearing some name hereafter to be 
 chosen. As your stranger friend you will 
 present me at Middlethorpe ; and this is the 
 way in which I shall woo Sir Hugh and one 
 of my cousins." 
 
 ^^ And then?" inquired his companion 
 gravely. 
 
 ^' Why, and then having won their hearts, 
 I mean, of course, to take off my disguise ; 
 and then we shall, I hope, live together hap- 
 pily all the days of our lives, as they did in 
 story books in my young days." 
 
 Ealph walked on in silence, and made no 
 comment on the plan unfolded for his in- 
 struction. 
 
 Edward waited with an expression of 
 anxiety on his countenance for a moment or 
 so — then he said, '^ By your silence, Ealph, 
 I gather that you don't like my plan ?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 17 
 
 *^I^o, I don't." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " I don't think it .honest," he said with 
 vehemence; "I hate crooked ways — it's a 
 Ue." 
 
 Edward was silent and thoughtful for a 
 moment. '^ I am not going to defend every 
 particle of the scheme," at last he replied; 
 "if it comes to an argument you will have the 
 •best of it, I know — it is not a case that will 
 bear strict scrutiny. It is what some would 
 call a foolish — some a romantic schf me. But 
 whatever it is, my mind is made up. There 
 may be a small, a very small particle of evil 
 in it ; but it is to effect, I hope, a great 
 good." 
 
 " Good never does come of evil," said 
 his companion doggedly. 
 
 " That is a bold assertion, Ealph. At any 
 rate in this case, no great harm can come. 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 Disappointment is the worst we have to 
 expect." 
 
 Ealph shook his head. 
 
 ^^ Why, what do you expect? What vi- 
 sions has your brilliant imagination conjured 
 up? Do you think I shall be put in the 
 stocks for imposture, or hanged at Tyburn 
 as a spy ? If so, it is my affair, not yours. 
 Don't talk to me of evil, — for I don't care. 
 I am like the naughty boy in the fable ; for 
 anything that happens to me, / donH care. I 
 have set my mind on this plan and nothing 
 shall move me." 
 
 " I don't quite know what I mean or ex- 
 pect,'' Ealph began again, his grave, deter-, 
 mined tone totally unmoved by the sportive 
 manner of his friend ; ^^ I only feel that evil 
 may come, perhaps not only to you. Such 
 crooked ways always bring trouble and sor- 
 row with them. My dear Edward, give it
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 19 
 
 Up. It's a bad plan ; it's a mean, selfish, 
 lying, pitiful scheme, and I hate it !" 
 
 ^' Well done, Ealph," said Edward, laugh- 
 ing ; and if affected by the exhortations of 
 his companion, showing no symptoms of it in 
 manner or countenance; "your eloquence 
 certainly lies in the forcible line. But now," 
 he added, more gravely, " let us come to the 
 point. My mind is made up, nothing you 
 can say will move me. The only question 
 is, will you help me, or will you not ? The 
 fact is — and you must not be offended — I did 
 not come to ask your advice, I can do with- 
 out that ; what I want is your assistance. 
 It is a simple question. Will you help 
 me?" 
 
 Ealph hesitated, and looked much dis- 
 tressed. It was his weak point. He could 
 not bear to refuse any request — above all, 
 he could never bear to refuse Edward. 
 
 c 2
 
 20 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 While he hesitated, Edward spoke again, 
 and though there was anxiet}^ there Avas no 
 entreaty in his tone. ^'Let us understand 
 one another, Ealph. I don't wish for any 
 sacrifices. What is done for me I like to 
 have done willingly, or not at all. A reluc- 
 tant gift, in my eyes, is no gift at all. 
 Therefore, consider well before you answer 
 me. I come to you for assistance because 
 you are my best and dearest friend, and there 
 is no man in the world to whom I would so 
 willingly be indebted — but I can do without 
 you. IS'ow, Ealph, what do you say? or 
 would you rather take the subject and think 
 it over at your leisure ? " 
 
 Ealph cleared his throat, looked first un- 
 happy, then ashamed, then irresolute, then 
 resolute, then cleared his throat again, then 
 at length gave his reply. ^'My dear fellow, 
 it will be no use for me to take the subject
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 21 
 
 and think it over, for what I felt at first I 
 shall feel till doomsday. I hate the plan, 
 but I can't refuse you. I know I'm a fool ; 
 so I always was, and so I always shall be. 
 So there it is, Edward, I wish I could say no, 
 but I can't. I'm at your service, make what 
 use of me you please." 
 
 ^^ Thanks," his companion said, with 
 warmth ; then suddenly changing his tone 
 and manner, which hitherto had been a sin- 
 gular mixture of earnestness and levity, to 
 one of deep and almost passionate feeling, 
 he went on, — '^Don't think me selfish, Ealph, 
 for accepting your offer ; think me mad, 
 harebrained, what you will, but not selfish. 
 I shall do you no harm, and I want you to 
 help to do me a great good. The fact is, 
 Ealph, I want to marry. I am not very old, 
 but I am. already weary of the world. All 
 my hopes and wishes have been disappointed.
 
 99 
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 I have seen mankind in all grades of society, 
 and I am disgusted with them. Don't shake 
 your head, Ealph, I know what you mean, 
 you would say I have seen the bad and not 
 the good. It may be so, but where are the 
 good to be found? I have seen high and 
 low, rich and poor, and I have only found 
 one honest man, and that is you, Ealph. I 
 am not what I. once was ; I have been de- 
 ceived, and I am awakened. Eor my awa- 
 kening you would say I ought to be thank- 
 ful, but I would rather be deceived again 
 than feel as I do now. I am weary of the 
 world and its ways. I thouglit strange 
 lands and strange faces would bring me back 
 my youthful feelings, but they have not done 
 it ; I come back weary as I went, and now 
 my only hope and dream is domestic hap- 
 piness. I want to marry, and find my youth 
 again in my wife and children's eyes."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 23 
 
 "Yes, my dear Edward, I see, I under- 
 stand," Ealph replied, witli the full and 
 ready sympathy which made him so invalu- 
 able a friend ; ''but — I beg your pardon — 
 but is there no wife to be found without plot- 
 ting and disguises. You have a wide world 
 open to you, and, I say it without flattery, 
 are not likely to find hard measui-e. "Will 
 no fi'uit serve you but the forbidden fruit ? " 
 
 " Is'one," Edward replied, with some vehe- 
 mence; then, his manner suddenly resuming 
 its former sportiveness, " I feel so entirely 
 with that most sensible of women, Mrs. 
 Bennet, about the entail, that I am heartily 
 ashamed of myself for having any part in so 
 heinous a transaction, and will do all in my 
 power to make what reparation I can. Be- 
 sides,'' he continued, again more seriously, 
 '' I believe my cousins to be brought up as 
 I should wish my wife to be. I would as
 
 24 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 soon marry a furbelowed satin gown, Ealph, 
 as a London young lady. Sir Hugh may be 
 puzzle-headed and prejudiced, but he is no 
 fool, and he knows how to order a family and 
 household. He is worshipped by his de- 
 pendants, and his children liye as happily 
 with him in his quiet home as Adam and 
 Eve lived in Paradise. Xothing like a 
 country life and well-regulated education for 
 producing that naturalness, innocence, and 
 stedfastness, which are the qualities of which 
 my wife must be made. And now, Ealph, 
 have I convinced you that I have at least 
 good reasons on my side ? " 
 
 '^ I say no more, my dear fellow; when a 
 man has made up his mind it is sheer loss 
 of time to argue with him." 
 
 ^' True, Ealph ; and for good or bad, my 
 mind is made up. ^ow let us descend to 
 small particulars, not forgetting the filthy 
 lucre part of the business."
 
 EDWAPtD WILLOUGHBT. 25 
 
 A minute discussion of all the ins and 
 outs of the scheme followed, and everything 
 was settled on a most satisfactory foundation. 
 Ealph was but an eldest son, and not a very 
 wealthy one ; but Edward was rich and 
 lavish, and no money difhculties cast a 
 shadow in the way. 
 
 When all was arranged, Ealph suddenly 
 said, '^ But what am I to call you, Edward ? 
 my bungling tongue had better begin to 
 practise." 
 
 " 'No hurry, Ealph, it is a subject requir- 
 ing mature reflection. I must have a decent, 
 respectable name, but not a fine one. jS'o St. 
 Legers or De Yeres, I will owe nothing to 
 my name ; I will ponder upon it to night.'' 
 
 ^^ Better settle it at once. Have you no name 
 in your own family? who was your great- 
 grandmother on the mother's side ?" 
 
 " My great-grandmother I" he exclaimed,
 
 26 EDWARD WILLOUGITBY. 
 
 laughing heartily. '^ My dear Ealph, I have 
 no conception who she was. Have you ? for 
 youi-s would do just as well." 
 
 "ivline was a Snow," he replied gravely. 
 
 ^^ A Snow ! K'o, thank you, Ealph, that is an 
 unpromising, icy name. ^Xow I think of it, 
 some of our ancestors were Leighs, and I 
 don't see why I should not be a Leigh. You 
 like it ?" — as Ealph nodded — " well so be it. 
 It is a good, sound name, and yet has no 
 flourish about it. Allow me then, Mr. Caradoc, 
 to introduce you to Edward Leigh, Esq., of 
 Westmoreland." And he bowed low, while 
 Ealph endeavoured to suppress a smile and to 
 shake his head. 
 
 So they parted ; and his consent once given, 
 Ealph Caradoc was too good-tempered and 
 unselfish to worry Edward with fui'ther ad- 
 vice and remonstrances. He called himself 
 ^' a weak old fool," and other epithets of a
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 27 
 
 like nature several times a day, and in no 
 measured teims ; but these were solitary re- 
 flections, and when called upon for assistance 
 and interest, he had them always ready to 
 bestow.
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 In the springtime of ray life, 
 Was I when I sought to roam ; 
 
 And the festival of youth, 
 Left I in my father's home. 
 
 It was evening, it was morning, 
 
 !N"ever, never stood I still ; 
 Eut for ever darkness shrouded, 
 
 What I sought with ardent will. 
 
 Erom Schiller, " The Pilgrim." 
 
 Sir Hiigli Will oughby and Mr. Willongliby, 
 the father of Edward, were first cousins. Sir 
 Hugh was w^ell oif — Mr. Willoughby nearly 
 equally so. The father of one inherited in 
 the direct line from his forefathers ; the other 
 from his mother, an heiress. jS^o money 
 concerns had occasioned the enmity between 
 them ; but something which, at least in their
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 29 
 
 young days, touched more deeply than mo- 
 ney — opinions. 
 
 Sir Hugh was a Tory, by feeling and cha- 
 racter as well as opinion. Xo new Tory ; 
 nothing accommodating about him, but a 
 lover of old things hecause they were old ; 
 and a hater of every change, good or bad, in 
 small things or in great, hecause it was a 
 change. His enemies and even his fi-iends 
 called him a blind bigot — not without reason; 
 for being an opponent of education in gene- 
 ral, he would have scorned to enlighten his 
 own individual eyes by such a means. He 
 loved the cloak of prejudice in which he 
 had wrapped himself, as his own life, and 
 would have laid down one as willingly as 
 the other. To argue with him was a vain 
 endeavour ; to convince impossible. He had 
 a balance, in many points a good and just 
 one, in which all questions were weighed,
 
 30 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 the weightiest and the most trifling; but 
 there was this peculiarity in his scales, that 
 trifles were apt to weigh the heaviest. 
 
 With all this, however, Sii' Hugh was no 
 man to be scorned. He had good parts ; 
 enough to have done honour to cultivation, 
 had he given them that advantage. He was 
 remarkable also for shrewd common sense, 
 and for a moral worth which, unless where pas- 
 sion or prejudice strongly interfered, seemed 
 by intuition to guide him right. In his own 
 kingdom, therefore, he ruled wisely and well, 
 and was worshipped as a wise ruler of his 
 kind, prejudices and all, is sure to be. De- 
 scription cannot do justice to him ; there was 
 a warmth in his feelings and a heartiness in 
 his manners, which attracted from those who 
 came near to him affection of no common 
 kind ; while a vein of quaintness in his cha- 
 racter gave, even to his prejudices, a certain
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. Sl'^ 
 
 cliarm which enlightemnent cannot always 
 command. 
 
 His cousin Mr. Willoughby's character 
 was the opposite of Sir Hugh's. Progress 
 was his word, and at a time when progress 
 had a more startling sound than now-a-days. 
 With less common sense than Sir Hugh, he 
 was far cleverer, and he had cultivated his 
 powers with care and industry. He was one 
 of those who watched with intense delight 
 the gathering of the storm in France ; who 
 was earned to madness while the fury of the 
 tempest lasted ; and who, when the excesses 
 in the name of liberty had sobered the most 
 enthusiastic, clung to his fii^st love with 
 affection unchanged and unchangeable. 
 
 To say the truth, Mr. Willoughby's opi- 
 nions were but opinions. He had a fine voice, 
 and great command of language; and satisfied 
 with his eloquence in favour of liberty, he
 
 •62 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 took no other steps to promote its cause. 
 It was otherwise with his only son. The 
 boy was of an enthusiastic temperament, and 
 his father's words stirred him almost to mad- 
 ness. "Wliile the one sat still and spoke, the 
 other was burning to rise and do. At fifteen, 
 his mother — a woman of rare character, whose 
 influence had always influenced her son to 
 good — died, and with her died all that could 
 have withheld him from a mad and headlong 
 course. His father still sate at home ; but 
 in spirit he followed his son, and with his 
 spirit animated him. Edward became the 
 prey of democrats and demagogues ; enrolled 
 himself in secret societies ; maddened himself 
 with studies of the most dangerous and ex- 
 citing kinds ; and it was no fault of his that 
 overt acts did not follow upon the agitation 
 that was stirred up, and bring him to an un- 
 timely end.
 
 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 3f 
 
 His character was a peculiar one, at once 
 fiery and stubborn ; by his fire and resolution 
 influencing others, and yet by the heat of 
 others led away and led astray himself. His 
 extreme youth and inexperience added to the 
 latter danger, while the studies in which he 
 indulged, perverting a naturally clear judg- 
 ment, made his very knowledge a snare. Au- 
 thority became a name hateful to him ; and 
 in the rooting up all landmarks in his mind, 
 even the springs of belief itself were shaken. 
 
 His history was the history of many others ; 
 so also was the history of his awakening. 
 He found himself deceived. As with ad- 
 vancing years and deeper thought, his eyes 
 opened, he found that truth and honour were 
 not the principles of those in whom he 
 trusted ; — where he had supposed a zeal to 
 bum, fervent and pure as his own, self- 
 interest appeared. He woke at last to dis- 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 '^4 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 appointment and disgust. ]^ot that honest 
 men were entirely banished from the party 
 to which he belonged — the fault was more in 
 himself. Caught by showy and meretricious 
 qualities, he put his trust unworthily, and 
 therefore was deceived. 
 
 He came to himself. His opinions, per- 
 haps, remained unchanged, but with his dis- 
 gust with men his zeal for opinions died 
 away. 
 
 He came to himself; but not uncontami- 
 nated. The society in which he had lived — 
 shrewd and clever, but often wild and law- 
 less — left its marks upon him. His mind 
 had lost its freshness and brightness ; its 
 generous aspirations ; its purity and truth. 
 Seeing much of the evil of the world, he 
 learnt almost to doubt of virtue ; and though 
 in the calm that followed on excitement, and 
 in the healthier studies to which he turned,
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 35 
 
 he reverted unconsciously to the faith of his 
 early years, it was not with a belief that 
 brought forth perfect fruits. One quality 
 only remained in his mind fresh and strong 
 as in his first youth, and that perhaps the 
 highest in man's fallen nature, and from 
 which all true reformation springs — the love 
 and admiration for whatsoever thing's were 
 pure and lovely, and of good report. He 
 mi<]rht not conform himself to the imag:e of 
 virtue he worshipped; but he did worship 
 it, contemplating with longing desire the 
 ideal standard he had set up. 
 
 Of these deeper feelings, however, he said 
 little. When he came to himself, he was 
 weary ; he missed the fire that had burnt so 
 brightly, and he tried to dissipate his weari- 
 ness as best he could. But his efforts were 
 vain. He plunged into the excitements 
 common to his rank and years ; but found 
 
 D 2
 
 36 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 them tame and commonplace. He sought 
 relief in the excitements of foreign travel ; 
 but thongh for a time it might be found, this 
 too soon lost its zest. In truth, the mind 
 that has occupied itself with questions of 
 high import ; whose aim and end has been, 
 in however mistaken ways, to redress wrongs, 
 to raise the oppressed, to bring in ^' a golden 
 year," — can never be filled with the tamer 
 draughts of selfish pleasure. Edward re- 
 mained restless and dissatisfied ; — known to 
 his friends by a lively wit and sarcastic 
 tongue, but hiding in his heart bitter regrets 
 and passionate longings. 
 
 Sir Hugh ^\''illoughby very early had 
 marked his dislike of the opinions of his cousin, 
 Mr. Willoughby ; and, as being the head of 
 the family, thought it incumbent upon him 
 to remonstrate. The remonstrances were un- 
 availing. Such things usually are so ; and
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 37 
 
 being unavailing, became a new eause of 
 dissension. When the prospecte darkened 
 and the wisest were dismayed, Sir IIu2:h 
 might be excused for exulting in his own 
 wisdom, and rooting his cherished opinions 
 more firmly in his mind. He styled his 
 cousin mad ; and as with him opinions were 
 always considered in their moral bearings, 
 the madness of his cousin assumed the form 
 of guilt, and was treated accordingly. His 
 dislike became in his own mind a virtue. 
 
 The feelings, however, excited by the 
 opinions of the elder Mr. Willoughby were 
 calm, compared to those excited by the ac- 
 tions of the son. With every species of 
 exaggeration the life and conduct of Edward 
 Willoughby was reported at Middlethorpe; 
 and his name became synonymous in the 
 mind of Sir Hugh with rebel, democrat, 
 atheist, and profligate. Of the possibility of 
 falsehood or exaggeration, Sir Hugh took no
 
 38 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 account ; his mind was of that tenacious kind 
 that has no power to sift and weigh. What 
 he Jieard, he heard with his ears, his memory, 
 and understanding. The seed that fell, good 
 or bad, took root, and rarely if ever was un- 
 rooted again. 
 
 Such being the state of Sii* Hugh's feelings, 
 it was no wonder that Edward's attempts at 
 reconciliation w^re repulsed. Of the internal 
 reformation that had taken place he had no 
 outward proof to show, while his careless, rest- 
 less life gave Sir Hugh an advantage in his 
 harsher judgment. lie thought Edward a 
 bad man, and as such he would have nothing 
 to say to him. 
 
 To do Sir Hugh justice, the fact of 
 Edward being his heir added no fuel to the 
 flame. He looked calmly forward to his 
 succession to the family estates ; and had 
 a Christian hope that he would at some 
 time prove himself less unworthy of his
 
 • EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 39 
 
 name. He had passionately desired a son; 
 but when his young wife — many years 
 younger than himself — died, leaving him 
 only with two little girls, he never con- 
 templated the forming of new ties. Once, 
 on an occasion when Edward's conduct gave 
 the strongest grounds for his condemnation, 
 an old friend had attempted to encoui-age and 
 console Sir Hugh by the suggestion of such an 
 idea; his brow clouded, and-he replied, "That 
 wotdd be taking matters into my own hands 
 and acting like an Atheist myself. What 
 have I to do with guarding Middlethorpe 
 when I am dead? I am not so presumptuous 
 as to suppose that Almighty God wants my 
 hands to work with." Xo change, therefore, 
 occurred in their relationship in this respect ; 
 neither did any change occur in Sir Hugh's 
 feelings towards his heir up to the time at 
 which this story begins.
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 " Through pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 
 Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." 
 
 Song. 
 
 It was a lovely summer evening in July. 
 Sir Hugh "Willoughby and his family had 
 dined, and the lamps were lighted in the 
 drawing-room ; but the windows were open, 
 and the daylight was lingering in the garden 
 without. 
 
 Sir Hugh was asleep in a large arm-chair 
 by the empty fireplace. He was nearly 
 seventy, and his head was white, but he
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 41 
 
 looked strong and healthy. The expression 
 of his countenance was honest and fearless ; 
 and if there were signs betokening to a 
 physiognomist heat and obstinacy of temper, 
 there were signs as strongly marked of good- 
 humour, and Warmth and tenderness of 
 heart. 
 
 A little behind him, near a round table, 
 on which a lamp was placed, sat an old lady 
 hemming frills. At first you were inclined 
 to call her a she-dragon, for her eyes had a 
 keen, observant glance, as of one accustomed 
 to keep watch, while her harsh features and 
 deep mourning dress gave to her appearance 
 something grim ; but a little observation con- 
 siderably softened your fii'st impression, and 
 if she was a dragon, you felt secure there 
 was no great cause to fear her power. This 
 lady was Mrs. Holies, a widow of small for- 
 tune, distantly related to Sii^ Hugh, whom,
 
 42 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 some years after his wife's death, he had in- 
 vited to take up her abode in his house. She 
 was remarkable for her strong language and 
 opinions ; but, like the elder Mi\ "Willoughby, 
 rarely went further than expressing herself ; 
 and without exerting much authority, lived 
 in peace and quiet in the family among 
 whom she was domesticated. 
 
 Flitting about the room, light and lovely 
 as a bird, was a young gii-1 of seventeen. 
 She was engaged in cutting and arranging 
 flowers ; now bending over the tables ; now 
 plunging Mrs. Holies into obscurity, and 
 begging her pardon in consequence; the 
 next instant she was in the garden gathering 
 fresh flowers, and singing in a clear and 
 birdlike voice as she wandered among the 
 beds. She was very pretty — her beauty of a 
 kind which nurses call '^ like a yoimg 
 cherub •" lier eyes were blue, her complexion
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 4 
 
 dazzling, Kerhair like threads of gold, aud 
 her expression open aud innocent. 
 
 On the other side of the fii-eplace, working 
 by the light of another lamp, sat a yonng 
 girl about three years older. The sisters 
 were much alike, and yet very different : 
 they had the same light figui-es, and softly 
 cut features, and fair skins and hair ; on the 
 other hand, one was blooming — the other 
 pale ; one had blue eyes, clear and bright — 
 the other had broA\'n eyes, serious and deep ; 
 one had all the sunshine of beauty — the 
 other had a kind of shadow upon her, not of 
 melancholy, but something without glare 
 — calm, refreshing, and still. 
 
 It is difficult to describe the featui'cs 
 or character of the elder sister ; for while the 
 former had that delicacy and evanescence of 
 expression, painters find it so hard to poui'- 
 tray, in the latter was something of the same
 
 44 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 peculiarity — a harmonious blending of many 
 qualities — which, made her, though far from 
 wanting in definiteness or individuality, 
 wanting in those marked characteristics 
 superficial observers catch at once. Yet if 
 her countenance was studied, many things 
 and much to interest appeared. There was 
 about her a peculiar gentleness, which spoke 
 of a nature apt to look iip, and disposed to 
 cling ; and her eyes had a soft, passionate 
 light which betokened feelings it might be 
 hard to control ; yet, opposed to these qualities, 
 there was a frank simplicity of manner be- 
 longing to one who went straight forward on 
 the path of duty, looking neither to the right 
 hand nor the left, and on her brow there was a 
 stedfastness and serenity as if she had already 
 found an anchor for her soul. These things 
 might be seen, yet rather in their germ than 
 as developed — even more than in the sunny
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 45 
 
 beauty of her sister, there was youth in 
 her air and the simple unconsciousness of a 
 child in her manner. 
 
 Such was the family party assembled in 
 the drawing-room at Middle thorpe. 
 
 " Who's there ? " cried Sir Hugh, waking 
 out of his sleep, and starting suddenly up in 
 his chair. 
 
 "]S'o one, papa,'' said his youngest 
 daughter, Ellen, laughing. " I am afraid I 
 have made a little noise ; but except my 
 noise there has not been a sound for twenty 
 minutes." 
 
 '' I thought I heard a footstep," observed 
 Sir Hugh, sleepily. '' "^^y, and so I did — I 
 knew I was right — my ears never deceive 
 me." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said a very tall man, 
 
 •stepping in at the open window, '^but I 
 
 thought I heard voices in the garden —
 
 46 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 I thought— I thought, in fact, I should 
 find somebody there." 
 
 ^^ So you did, so you did. That magpie has 
 been chattering in the garden till I am 
 almost deaf. Xo pardons, beg no pardons — 
 in at the window, or in at the door, always 
 welcome." 
 
 The person to whom this cordial greeting 
 was addressed was a thin, tall, soldierlike look- 
 in g man, of jibout forty or something under ; an 
 awkwardness in the movements of one arm, 
 a scar over one brow, a bronzed complexion, 
 and black hair lightly sown with grey — 
 spoke of a youth of honourable exertion; 
 but these things rather gave interest to his 
 appearance than detracted from it. His 
 countenance was very pleasing; something 
 of almost feminine softness, blending not in- 
 harmoniously with his soldierlike figure, and 
 a certain formality in his air. His name
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 47 
 
 was Colonel Asliton ; but he had left the 
 army, with this proviso, that he was always 
 ready if his services were required by his 
 country. Three years before this time he had 
 succeeded, by the death of an elder brother, 
 to a good property in a distant county ; but 
 two or three of the summer months he was 
 in the habit of passing at a small house in 
 the neighbourhood of Middlethorpe. 
 
 Colonel Ashton stood for a few minutes in 
 the window, looking shy ; but recovering 
 himself, he approached Ellen, as she stood 
 surrounded with flowers, and put a small 
 jeweller's case into her hand. ''It is your 
 birthday, I think," he said : "I give this 
 with many good wishes. I could not get 
 here this morning. Don't thank me," — and 
 he hurriedly retreated before her thanks and 
 eager exclamations. "It is my duty and 
 my pleasure. If the old don't think of the
 
 48 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 young, they don't deserve that the young 
 should think of them." 
 
 ^' Oh ! papa, is it not pretty ?" Ellen cried, 
 approaching her father with a gold bracelet 
 in her hand. ^^ It is too pretty for me, I 
 mean" — and she turned from her father to 
 raise her grateful, sparkling eyes to Colonel 
 Ashton — ^^ it is too pretty for you to give me 
 — too much — indeed it is." 
 
 He was still standing, looking tall and shy. 
 It now occurred to him that his position 
 might be improved by sitting down, and as 
 Clare at the moment resumed her seat, he 
 sat down by her side. 
 
 Sir Hugh devoted himself to an inspection 
 of the bracelet, and took out his spectacles to 
 do it justice. ^^ Well," he said at last, "for one 
 of your new-fangled things — I beg your par- 
 don, Ashton, it's pretty enough; but there cer- 
 tainly is a lack of taste in these days. Did
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 49 
 
 I ever show you mj grandmother's trinkets? — 
 they're worth looking at, worth twenty of these 
 things. We're going down hill," — playfully 
 shaking his head, — " I see it in everything, 
 these fancy articles as well as all the rest." 
 
 " This belonged to my mother," observed 
 Colonel Ashton, colouring slightly, yet 
 speaking with a little quiet malice in his 
 tone. "' I have only had it brushed up and 
 a slight alteration made in the cypher." 
 
 " Ah ! Papa," exclaimed Ellen, laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 ^^ I am sure, Sir Hugh, I don't know how 
 you could mistake so much," said Mrs. Hol- 
 lis, with some contempt. ^^I saw from the 
 first moment that Colonel Ashton's gift had 
 no trumpery about it." 
 
 '' Ha, ha ! " laughed Sir Hugh, ^' ha, ha ! 
 But what did Ashton have it brushed up for. 
 I would rather have seen it with its grey 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 hairs upon it. Give it to us again ; and if 
 you please, Mrs. Hollis, let us have some 
 more light. Ah ! true enough, no trumpery 
 here." 
 
 While Sir Hugh, with perfect compla- 
 cency, exhibited some marks of good 
 workmanship in the bracelet. Colonel Ashton 
 entered into conversation with Clare. 
 
 *^ Seventeen, isn't she ?" he remarked with 
 a nod towards Ellen, and a half- suppressed 
 sigh. ^^ I hate to think of it. Seventeen 
 never comes again!" 
 
 " No," Clare replied, ponderingly, as if 
 the trite remark had something new in it to 
 her ears ; '' but then some people do not miss 
 it. Ellen never will." 
 
 ^' I think so ; yes, you are very right. 
 Her gaiety is from the heart, and that never 
 dries up. But still," with another sigh, 
 "there is something in youth which I
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 51 
 
 would keep if I could. Youth never comes 
 again !" 
 
 "Would you have it come again?" Clare 
 askedj with the curiosity young minds are 
 apt to feel in the sensations of those older 
 than themselves. 
 
 " For myself, do you mean ? They say a 
 man is a fool who says yes ; and yet, as an 
 honest man, I can't say no, — yes," (with some 
 vehemence,) " I would be young again." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " Why ! Miss Willoughby, that's a home 
 question ; but I think I can answer it. I am 
 come to that age when, without having a 
 right to the reverence age commands, I begin 
 to feel that I am no longer fit company for 
 the young." 
 
 " That is too unkind a speech for me to 
 answer," Clare said playfully. 
 
 " Unkind ! Miss Willoughby. Why imkind? 
 
 E 2 
 
 LIBRARY ' 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP IlLINOT^
 
 52 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 It is the natural principle of youth to like 
 youth. I did, myself, when I was young." 
 
 " If it is the natural principle," she con- 
 tinued, in the same tone, " there are excep- 
 tions to the rule. Ellen professes not to like 
 very young people at all." 
 
 ^^ Ah ! Miss Willoughby," he said, shaking 
 his head, " what is professes ? — what can she 
 know of the matter ?'' 
 
 " I think one can have a taste even at 
 seventeen,'' Clare said smilingly. ^' We had 
 a discussion on this very subject yesterday." 
 
 ^^ And what did you say ? " 
 
 ^^ What / said I will not tell you, not at 
 least to-night," she replied, fearlessly answer- 
 ing the questions of her father's friend ; '' but 
 Ellen said that she liked the thoughtfulness 
 of older people much better than the excite- 
 ment of younger ones ; and I am sure she 
 said what she felt."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 53 
 
 "It is flattery, Miss Willoughby," he 
 said, smiling, and his brow clearing, — '' plea- 
 sant flattery ; but I will receive it, though I 
 am afraid if youth was at hand Miss Ellen 
 would soon find the fallacy of an opinion." 
 
 "No,'' Clare said, shaking her head ; and 
 so the strife ended. 
 
 " !N^ow, Clare, go and play," exclaimed Sii" 
 Hugh; " and let us have ^Hailstones' first, 
 and ' Haydn's Surprise ' next, in honour of 
 my young lady ; and you and I, Ellen, will 
 have our game at backgammon. Xo, that 
 won't do — how shall it be? — Ellen and Ashton 
 shall have their game at backgammon, and I 
 will talk to Mrs. Hollis." 
 
 " Thank you. Sir Hugh ; but I am busy." 
 
 "Oh I those fi-ills, those friUs! " Sir Hugh 
 cried good-humouredly, contemplating the 
 yards of broad-hemmed frilling escaping 
 from Mrs. Hollis's nimble fingers; "and 
 what becomes of them all is what puzzles me."
 
 54 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " Sir Hugh," she replied, raising one indig- 
 nant glance to his face, and casting another 
 upon the beautifully plaited white cap, cape 
 and ruffles, which gave to her deep mourning 
 attire a picturesque and pleasing air. 
 
 ^' Ah ! " he said penitently, '^ yes ; I beg 
 pardon — I beg twenty thousand pardons. 
 Xever mind me. Miss Ellen, get to your game. 
 I will listen to Clare play. Ah ! that's it, 
 that's a fine thing," — as she began the "Hail- 
 stone Chorus" with all the energy in which he 
 delighted, — "you've nothing like thatnow-a- 
 days, Ashton." And he walked to the piano- 
 forte, and accompanied the music with the 
 beat of his foot. 
 
 Sir Hugh's taste for old times had ex- 
 tended itself to music. He gave his daugh- 
 ters the choice of playing Handel, Haydn, 
 Purcell, Locke, &c., or not playing at all: 
 the new tunes, he observed, had nothing in
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 55 
 
 them. Ellen thankfully availed herself of 
 the latter alternative. Her powers of atten- 
 tion were soon exhausted, and the grave 
 sonatas appointed for her early practice, of- 
 fended her taste and baffled her patience. 
 Clare, on the contrary, had shown an in- 
 tuitive liking for the full chords and solemn 
 tones of the music in which her father de- 
 lighted ; and giving her heart to the work, 
 soon made of the labours of practice a labour 
 of love. Some music is tolerable, and gives 
 tolerable pleasure, if only played tolerably 
 well; but these old masters require a special 
 liking and talent in their pupils, or they 
 lose their spirit, and with their spirit much 
 of their beauty. This love, which, in fact, is 
 talent, Clare gave, whether to the stirring 
 choruses her father preferred, or the graver 
 pieces, in which she had her own peculiar 
 delight. Whatever she played, her heart
 
 56 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 was in it, and this gave to her playing an 
 attraction not common. 
 
 Ellen and Colonel Ashton sat down to the 
 backgammon board; but the latter seemed 
 more inclined to converse than to play. 
 
 " What have you been doing all day?" he 
 inquired, with peculiar interest in his manner. 
 
 " ^N'othing, I am afraid," she replied. Then 
 casting a merry, wilful glance at Mrs. Ilollis, 
 she added, "ISTothmg, I knoAV. I have had 
 such a scolding about it I" 
 
 ^^If you please, Miss Ellen, allude in a 
 different manner to oiu' conversations;" — 
 and Mrs. Hollis put down her frills, and 
 looked awful. '' Colonel Ashton, have you 
 any influence with this young lady ?" 
 
 ^^ Have I any influence ?" he asked, look- 
 ing at her with a smile so sweet, and an ex- 
 pression so fond, that she blushed, ^ she 
 laughed an incomprehensible answer. 
 
 ^^ Because if you have, it will be as well
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 57 
 
 to exert it. If Miss Ellen goes on as slie 
 does now, ?lie will be a disgrace to the 
 name of woman. '^ 
 
 " What have yon done ?" asked Colonel 
 Ashton. 
 
 "• She is idle, she does nothing ; and we all 
 know what idleness leads to;" repeating, 
 with great vehemence — • 
 
 '" For Satan finds some mischief still 
 For idle hands to do I ' 
 
 And when I speak to her, as is my bonnden 
 duty, and point out the evil of her ways, she 
 answers me, that she does not mean to be 
 idle ; for she means to sing all her life long ! " 
 
 " I am afraid, ^Irs. Hollis," Colonel Ashton 
 said gravely, '' I shall rather advocate the 
 singing ; the world may well be allowed to 
 have some few birds among its many beasts." 
 
 '^ Folly, stuff, and trumpery !" she said, 
 with vehemence.
 
 58 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^^ Wliat is trumpery?" exclaimed Sir 
 Hugh, returning at the sound of Mrs. Hol- 
 lis's favourite word. 
 
 '' Colonel Ashton has been giving me bad 
 advice, papa, and encouraging me to be idle; 
 but I don't mean to take it : I mean to begin 
 a new life to-morrow, and do whatever you 
 tell me." And Ellen pushed her chair to- 
 wards Mrs. Hollis, and looked smilingly in 
 her face. 
 
 ^' You have said to-morrow. Miss Ellen, as 
 long as I can remember ; but your to-morrow 
 never comes." 
 
 *^ This time it will, really and really." 
 
 " There is no doubt we all should be as 
 busy as we can," remarked Sir Hugh, with 
 a wise look — then, seating himself in his 
 chair, and preparing for a gossip, " Well, 
 Ashton, have you got anything to tell us 
 to-night?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 59 
 
 ^^ Nothing, I thick," replied he, with(l^a^Y- 
 ing his eyes from Ellen. 
 
 '' Nothing more about the Lodge ? eh ! 
 Well, I msh it had been taken." 
 
 " Oh, yes, the Lodge is taken ; I thought 
 you were aware of that." 
 
 ^^No, really !" exclaimed Sir Hugh, sitting 
 upright to listen. '^ Well, I'm heartily glad 
 to hear it ; I hate to have these tumble-down 
 houses about, as if people were afraid to live 
 in our country, which, thank Heaven ! they 
 needn't be. Well, and so it's actually taken, 
 is it?" 
 
 " Taken, oh ! yes ; and there are masons at 
 work, and carpenters at work, and upholsterers, 
 and have been these three days. The young 
 gentleman is to be down next week, I hear." 
 
 ''What is his name ?" Clare asked, leaving 
 the pianoforte, and sitting down with the 
 others. '' I heard it one day, and it struck
 
 60 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 me as an odd one ; but I have forgotten 
 it." 
 
 '' Caradoc," said Colonel Ashton ; '^ it is 
 an old Welsh family." 
 
 "A good name," exclaimed Sir Hugh; 
 "it sounds British.'' 
 
 *' British, indeed ! It's a very ancient 
 name ; I know the family, and they claim 
 descent from some of the old kings of 
 Wales." 
 
 "Indeed!" said Sir Hugh, with satisfac- 
 tion ; " that is a descent worth having, ^ow, 
 I would rather be a Caradoc than a new- 
 made duke a thousand times over." 
 
 " And is" Mr. Caradoc worthy of his royal 
 descent ?" Clare asked, smiling. 
 
 " I believe so. I don't know him per- 
 sonally, but he bears a high character. His 
 father lives about twenty miles from my 
 house in Monmouthshire ; and he is a 
 thoroughly respectable man.'*
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 61 
 
 '^ Eespectable!" said Ellen, laughing; 
 " that is a very small word for a king." 
 
 " What would you have better, magpie ?" 
 cried her father. ^^I hope you will be re- 
 spectable, that is all.'' 
 
 ^^ Miss Ellen hoped to hear of something 
 heroic, I see," Colonel Ashton observed, 
 smiling; ^^but I am afraid I can hold out 
 no hopes of heroic qualities. If this young 
 gentleman is like his father, he is a sensible, 
 worthy young man, and nothing more." 
 
 "And worth all the trumperies in the 
 world," observed Mrs. Hollis. 
 
 "True, Mrs. Hollis — very true," said Sir 
 Hugh, mournfully; "and it would be well 
 if we could say the same of all young men 
 who boast a high descent. It's a shame, 
 now," — suddenly clenching his hand, and 
 stamping with his foot ; — "a Willoughby too. 
 It\s a shame, and stiU more grief than 
 shame."
 
 62 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^'It is indeed to be regretted," Colonel 
 Ashton said soothingly, instantly seizing 
 the allusions of his old Mend; ^^but you 
 know my opinion, it will all come right in 
 time. I am not one of those who say a 
 young man must sow his wild oats before 
 he is fit for anything ; there's neither truth 
 nor sense in that ; but for all I have ever 
 heard of Edward Willoughby his worst follies 
 may be the fi'uits of naturally good and 
 generous dispositions, and where that's the 
 case there's strong hope for the man." 
 
 " I am glad you say that," Clare said, with 
 a flash of pleasure in her eyes ; ^' no one 
 here ever says a word in Edward's favour." 
 
 ^^ Because they can't," Sir Hugh said, 
 shortly. " There would be plenty said, if it 
 could be said. You're a good fellow, Ashton, 
 but you know no more of Edward Willoughby 
 than that silly child does, who thinks every 
 one is as innocent as her own self. But
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 63 
 
 what do we talk of him for — on Ellen's birth- 
 day, too ? Let us have done with him. Get 
 back to your music, Clare, and play us a 
 Dead March, or something of the kind to 
 soothe us, and then let us have a little rational 
 conversation before we go to bed."
 
 CHAPTEE lY. 
 
 *'Agood old English gentleman, all of the olden time." 
 
 So^"G. 
 
 A "WEEK later Mr. Grantley, the clergyman 
 of the parish, called at Middlethorpe. It 
 was in the evening, and the same party as 
 that described in the last chapter were 
 assembled. Evening visits were a fancy of 
 Sir Hugh's, and a fancy, during the summer 
 months, indulged by all his neighbours. He 
 was fond of a gossip ; but not inopportune 
 gossip. In the daytime he liked to wander
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 65 
 
 about at his pleasure ; in the evening, when 
 not too sleepy, he liked to be entertained by- 
 others. 
 
 Mr. Grantley was a good old country gen- 
 tleman, leading and guiding his flock aright 
 rather by good example and fatherly interest 
 in their welfare, than by force of intellect or 
 fire of zeal. Simple, frank, and kindhearted, 
 with good sense, and a mind cultivated above 
 the average ; these were his qualifications, 
 and qualities that won him universal love 
 and respect. 
 
 '^ Welcome, Doctor," cried Sir Hugh, as 
 his name was announced. " I'm heartily 
 glad to see you." 
 
 The daughters rose to meet him, and Clare 
 placed him a chair near her o^vn. She was 
 very fond of him, and he was very fond of 
 her, — that you saw at once. 
 
 " All well ?" he asked, looking round ; 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 QQ EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 *'but that is a question I need not ask — of 
 these young ladies at least." And his eyes 
 rested with old-fashioned admiring gallantry 
 on the pretty evening dresses of the sisters. 
 
 " We should be curious animals if we 
 could be ill in this weather, Doctor/' replied 
 Sir Hugh. ^' What a summer we have, to 
 be sure." 
 
 ^^Itis, indeed, glorious summer weather, 
 and old Dobson prophesies that we shall have 
 it all through the autumn." 
 
 ^' And Dobson is always right," observed 
 Ellen. ^' I am so glad — I like sunshine." 
 
 '' You have no great need to care about it, 
 Miss Ellen ; you carry your own sunshine 
 about with you. But you are right, it is a 
 pleasant thing to see the sun. I often think 
 that it is one of those blessings of a gracious 
 Providence, for which, because it is so com- 
 mon a blessing, we forget to be thankful."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 67 
 
 '^ True enough, Doctor," Sir Hugh said, 
 nodding his head wisely ; '^ and it shows what 
 ungrateful mortals we naturally are." 
 
 "I am come up to-night upon a little 
 errand," continued Mr. Grantley, putting on 
 an air of some importance; "a little com- 
 mission, which I promised to execute." 
 
 '' Out with it, then, Doctor ; you know 
 you have but to ask, and your request, if it 
 is a request, is granted." 
 
 ^* Why it is a request. Sir Hugh. The 
 fact is — and perhaps this will be interesting 
 to the young ladies — I received a visit this 
 morning from your new neighbour, Mr. 
 Caradoc. He came in company with a young 
 gentleman, a friend, who is going to pass the 
 autumn with him." 
 
 "And they want to shoot over my pre- 
 serves ! is that it. Doctor ?" exclaimed Sir 
 Hugh, rubbiag his hands ; " but you needn't 
 
 F ^.
 
 68 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 speak, I know it is. I'm a pretty good hand 
 at a guess.'' 
 
 ^^ Wrong, my dear Sir Hugh, quite wrong ; 
 their request was much more humble. They 
 came, in the first place, to call oq me, as 
 being for the time my parishioners, and I 
 confess I thought the early \dsit did credit 
 to Mr. Caradoc's good taste and principles." 
 
 ^' There you're right. Doctor ; it shows — it 
 shows — that he knows what he is about, and 
 knows his place in the world. Well, Doctor, 
 what next ?" 
 
 " In the next place they made a great 
 many inquiries about the neighbourhood, as 
 if they would be willing to give and take 
 pleasure. lN"o airs or exclusiveness about 
 them ; and naturally the chief object of their 
 inquiries was about you. Sir Hugh." 
 
 "Well, Doctor, and what character did 
 you give me ? Did I come off pretty well ?"
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 69 
 
 ^^My dear sir, !Mr. Caradoc was not so 
 indiscreet as to make inquiries of your cha- 
 racter. jS"o, no ; but the object of his ambi- 
 tion seems to be to make yoiu' acquaintance. 
 He asked me if you were in the habit of 
 visiting new comers ; whether, in short, you 
 would be likely to notice them. I said the 
 truth. Sir Hugh, that you did not in general 
 fancy strangers." 
 
 " !N'ow, now. Doctor, that was too bad," 
 exclaimed Sir Hugh, who, whether from Mr. 
 Caradoc's royal descent, or from some motive 
 of curiosity, was unusually well disposed to his 
 new neighbours; '^ you shouldn't represent 
 me like a pigheaded old fogrum. I dare say 
 you told them the story of that Jacobinical 
 old brewer. Catch me visiting a Jacobin 
 merely because he is rich !" 
 
 '^ My dear sir," said Mr. Grantley, much 
 shocked, " you surely do not suppose I am
 
 70 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 SO indiscreetly communicative mth. strangers. 
 I merely said, that though you exercise the 
 privilege of choice in the acquaintance you 
 admit into your house and to the society of 
 your daughters ; yet that, — in short, I offered 
 to mention to you their wishes, and the 
 inquiries they had made, feeling sure their 
 desire for good society would meet with your 
 approval. Mr. Caradoc thanked me, and 
 accepted my offer, saying that, as their stay 
 in the country was but for a limited number 
 of weeks, they did not wish to lose time. 
 He spoke, in short, very naturally and 
 frankly ; and now my task is done.'' 
 
 '^And now, Mr. Grantley," Ellen asked, 
 smiling, "you must tell us whether we shall 
 like them." 
 
 " And you, my dear Miss Ellen, must tell 
 me what you like before I can answer you ; 
 you are so lately come to years of dis-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 71 
 
 cretion, that I do not know wliat fancies you 
 have brought with you from '* 
 
 " From the nursery ! — speak it out, Doctor. 
 Let us know, Magpie, what your notions of 
 things are." 
 
 " I like — " Ellen said, then paused on her 
 definition. During the pause, whether cas- 
 ually or not, Colonel Ashton leaned suddenly 
 forward and overset IMrs. HoUis's work- 
 basket. He was immediately groping on the 
 floor, and apologizing for his awkwardness. 
 
 " Well, Miss Ellen," said Mr. Grantley, 
 when Mrs. Hollis had recovered the severe 
 shock the accident occasioned her. 
 
 " Oh ! I like something rather tvise. I 
 can't describe very particularly, but I think 
 I must have wisdom." 
 
 " And I think, my darling," said her 
 father, " that you don't know what you are 
 talking about. Wisdom and folly are not 
 good companions."
 
 72 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 '^ Well, Miss Ellen,'' continued Mr. Grant- 
 ley, ^^ if I did not see great wisdom, I cer- 
 tainly saw no folly in these young men, so I 
 hope they will be to your taste. One thing, 
 Miss Willoughby," and he turned to Clare, 
 ^^ pleased me very much. Before he took 
 leave, Mr. Caradoc begged me to give him 
 the names of some proper objects of charity. 
 They would be glad, he said, to do any little 
 good they could while in the neighbourhood, 
 and he thought it best always to go to 
 the proper person, and so make sure of doing 
 good and not evil with their almsgiving. 
 He spoke, in short, with so much good sense 
 and good feeling, that I was extremely gra- 
 tified. Common benevolence is common 
 enough, but to meet with thought in a young 
 man is an uncommon thing.'' 
 
 ^' In short, Mr. Grantley," Clare said, 
 raising her quiet, smiling eyes from her
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 73 
 
 work, '^ you have completely lost your heart 
 to Mr. Caradoc." 
 
 *^^ot my heart, Miss Willoughby," shaking 
 his head, " I keep that for nearer home ; but 
 I confess I plead guilty to the charge of 
 having taken a fancy to him. One does, you 
 know, even old men do sometimes, perhaps 
 without good reason." 
 
 '^ And to his friend also." 
 
 ^' Mr. Leigh ! Ah ! well, Mr. Leigh is 
 very pleasing — better looking than Mr. 
 Caradoc, and though he said but a few 
 words, I imagine clever also. I cannot say, 
 however, that I took the same fancy to him. 
 There is a simplicity and honesty about 
 Mr. Caradoc that particularly pleases my 
 old-fashioned taste. I don't say that 
 there is anything wanting in Mr. Leigh's 
 manners, they are perfectly quiet and gentle- 
 manlike, but they have not the openness and
 
 74 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 frankness of Mr. Caradoc's. I don't know,'' 
 he continued musingly, ^^it was nothing, 
 perhaps; but there was an expression of 
 sarcasm on his countenance which did not 
 quite please me ; once or twice I felt as if 
 he was laughing at us, but it might be 
 fancy. In fact I ought to speak well of him, 
 for he reminded Mr. Caradoc to inquire 
 about a pew at church, and seemed anxious 
 on the subject, which you know is not always 
 the case with young men." 
 
 Sir Hugh felt considerable interest about 
 the pew, and that and some other matters 
 connected with the new comers were talked 
 over till Mr. Grantley's visit came to an 
 end. 
 
 Colonel Ashton, who had sat in total 
 silence during the whole evening, then rose, 
 and said, with a sarcastic tone totally different 
 to his usual manner, " If Mr. Caradoc and
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 75 
 
 his Mend could know that they have occupied 
 the whole attention of a large society — three 
 ladies inclusive — this evening, they would no 
 doubt be highly flattered," 
 
 Clare looked up surprised. Ellen said with 
 a mirthful gravity, '' But it would be very 
 mortifying if they could also be told that 
 there was one person who would not condes- 
 cend to notice them even by one word of 
 curiosity." 
 
 " I don't know how to feel such interest in 
 strangers," he said hastily ; "I never 
 do." 
 
 Sir Hugh and Mr. Grantley looked rather 
 ashamed of themselves, and said nothing. It 
 was a good moment for Mrs. Hollis. 
 
 " I beg, Colonel Ashton, you will not 
 include me among the ladies. Such curiosity 
 is very imedifying, and where young men 
 are concerned, I might say extremely im-
 
 76 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 proper. It can only betray an ill-regulated 
 mind.'' 
 
 Mr. Grantley looked put out ; Sir Hugh, 
 as if he did not know what to make of it ; 
 Colonel Ashton heartily ashamed ; and stri- 
 ding across to Clare he shook hands, and 
 wished her good night, saying a headache 
 was no good cause for ill -temper, but if a 
 headache might excuse it, he had had one all 
 the evening; then nodding good-humouredly 
 all round, he left the room. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Sir Hugh called at the Lodge the very 
 next day. He was kindhearted and hospi- 
 table, and the humble appeal for his notice 
 through Mr. Grantley, was a sufficient reason 
 for his unusual civility, serving to conceal, 
 even from himself, the curiosity he felt 
 regarcing the new comers. He found both 
 young men at home; and was so pleased
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 77 
 
 with the frank and simple manners of Ealph 
 Caradoc, and so flattered and gratified at 
 the undisguised pleasure shown in his 
 prompt advances, that in the excitement of 
 the moment he gave an invitation to 
 dine at Middlethorpe the following evening. 
 This hasty acquaintance was much at 
 variance with his usual caution. His dread 
 of Jacobinism in disguise was so extreme 
 that all comers to the neighbourhood had 
 hitherto been subjected to a probation of 
 many weeks before an admission was given 
 to the society of his house ; while, during 
 the probation, an ordeal of profoundly 
 searching questions had been administered 
 by himself. Partly, however, the favourable 
 opinion of Mr. Grantley — partly, the influence 
 of the sterling worth of Ealph' s character, 
 which shone out in every word he uttered — 
 and partly, that men will be inconsistent.
 
 78 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 and never more inconsistent than when 
 consistency might be of importance : influ- 
 enced by all these causes, Sir Hugh's usual 
 caution slept ; and so far from trying the 
 faith of his new acquaintance by searching 
 questions, the very existence of Jacobinism 
 in the world was forgotten, until he had 
 turned his back on his neighbours, and 
 re-entered his own domains. 
 
 He then suddenly slackened his pace, and 
 struck his hand on his side. ^' I've been a 
 fool," he soliloquized, ^' a blind old dotard. 
 ]N'ot a question asked — they may be rascally 
 Jacobins in disguise, and here I have given 
 them carte blanche, — hang the Trench ! — to 
 my house. I'd better go back and speak my 
 mind at once, — no time like the present 
 time." He turned his body round, but 
 evidently not his mind ; for shortly striking 
 his side again, he continued, "No, no — no, no
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 79 
 
 — B. man must not be made of suspicion ! My 
 eyes are pretty clear, if there were anything 
 I should see it at once. What's time ? 
 Time's nothing. A minute is enough, if a 
 man has his wits about him. ]S'o, no — no, 
 no !" And he walked on till by the time of 
 his arrival at Middlethorpe, he had amicably 
 arranged his differences with himself. 
 
 The young men arrived at Middlethorpe 
 before their host or any of his family had 
 appeared. This was partly owing to 
 Edward's impatience. Since noon he had 
 been constantly discovering that it was time 
 to dress. 
 
 '' I don't know how you feel, Edward !" 
 Ealph exclaimed, after they had remained 
 for some time in silence in the deserted 
 drawing-room," I feel extremely awkward, 
 something like the wolf in sheep's clothing." 
 
 He looked awkward, — standing bolt
 
 80 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 upriglit in the middle of the room. Edward 
 had been wandering from table to table, 
 casting on every side restless, curious glances; 
 but at this appeal he came towards his 
 friend. 
 
 "Do you wish to know how I feel? — 
 feel then." And he took Ealph's hand and 
 placed it for a moment on his heart. 
 
 " My dear fellow !" ejaculated Ealph, 
 startled and even alarmed at the feverish 
 touch, and wild beat of the pulse ; " but 
 why is this ?'' 
 
 "My fate hangs on this moment," he 
 replied ; "I have cast it all on this night's 
 decision." 
 
 " I would cast it on no such foolish thing," 
 Ealph said gravely ; but Edward moved 
 impatiently from him, and he was too wise 
 to moralize further. 
 
 The door opened. Edward's colour
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 81 
 
 mounted to his brow, but it was only Mrs. 
 HoUis. 
 
 She came in with two dignified curtseys, 
 and not till she had seated herself, and 
 armed herself with her basket of fi'illing, 
 broke the silence. 
 
 ^' Sir Hugh and the young ladies will be 
 down immediately," she then observed, ^^ an 
 accident to one of the garden-men detained 
 them out beyond their usual time." 
 
 Ealph bowed; and as Mrs. Hollis made 
 no further attempts at conversation, silence 
 prevailed again. 
 
 Edward touched Ealph' s arm to desire 
 him to speak. Ealph cleared his throat 
 obediently three times, and Ivnit his brows 
 in search of some proper subject ; at length 
 this novel remark presented itself, — 
 
 "We have had a fiue day, ma'am ; splen- 
 did weather for the harvest." 
 
 VOL. I. a
 
 82 EDWAKD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^* Eemarkably fine, thank God," Mrs. 
 Hollis replied ; and as Ealph had improvi- 
 dently presented his two subjects at once, a 
 second silence followed. 
 
 This at length was broken by Sir Hugh's 
 appearance, and two fair angels — so at least 
 Edward thought — behind him. "While Ealph 
 went forward, and Sir Hugh noisily apolo- 
 gized for his lateness, he remained fixed, his 
 eyes devouring these two. At length his gaze, 
 keen and intent, fixed on one, and then his 
 brow cleared and smoothed itself, and he was 
 at peace. 
 
 When he came to himself, Ealph was say- 
 ing, "It is for us to apologize, Sir Hugh, 
 we were unfashionably punctual." 
 
 " You could not have done a thing that 
 pleased me better," Sir Hugh cried with 
 warmth ; " I like everything that is unfashion- 
 able ; and now let us get our introductions
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 83 
 
 unfasMonably over, tliat we may proceed to 
 dinner as soon as we can. There are my two 
 young ladies, ]\Ir. Caradoc ; and, young ladies, 
 here are the two gentlemen of whose arrival 
 we have heard so much. Mrs. Hollis, I sup- 
 pose you have introduced yourself ; and now 
 for dinner. Mr. Caradoc, be so good as to 
 take my eldest daughter, Clare ; and here is 
 my youngest for you, Mr. Leigh ; and now, 
 Mrs. Hollis, you and I will jog along together," 
 and so in high spirits and singular good hu- 
 mour Sir Hugh entered the dining-room. 
 
 Seated at dinner, Ealph felt himself as 
 awkward as ever, and looked with dismay at 
 the eager and animated discourse with which 
 Edward entertained the young lady com- 
 mitted to his charge. Partly from natural 
 taciturnity, and partly from natural humility, 
 Ealph was rarely at ease where general or 
 lively conversation was required, and had at 
 
 G 2
 
 84 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 all times especially absented himself from the 
 society of young ladies, to whom, he sup- 
 posed, a particular kind of small-talk, of 
 which he had no store, to be agreeable. On 
 the present occasion the weight of a secret, 
 and the dread of discovery, added to his em- 
 barrassment ; and as to several of Clare's at- 
 tempts at conversation he replied in monosylla- 
 bles, all things shortly came to a stand-still. 
 
 A glance fi-om Edward desiring him to 
 exert himself, at length restored him so far 
 as to induce him in his own natural manner 
 to apologize for his stupidity. 
 
 " I am afraid. Miss Willoughby, I don't 
 make myself as agreeable as I ought ; but the 
 truth is, besides being naturally a dull fellow, 
 I am very little accustomed to the society of 
 young ladies." 
 
 Amused at his odd bluntness, Clare replied 
 smiling, ^^ If it is with a young lady that
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 85 
 
 you find a difficulty, pray think of me as an 
 old one, and I shall like it much better." 
 
 Her manner was so quietly cordial, and 
 her voice so sweet, that Ealph's embarrass- 
 ment suddenly melted like snow in the sun- 
 shine; and, as he expressed it, ^' after that 
 he got on capitally." 
 
 In the course of conversation Clare 
 thanked him for his intended kindness to 
 some of Sir Hugh's tenants; adding that a 
 list of a few cottagers had been made by 
 herself and Mr. Grantley, to whom help would 
 be useful. 
 
 ^'You must not thank me. Miss Wil- 
 loughby," he replied, *'for the fact is, I did 
 not think of it. I hope I should in time, for 
 I don't mean to be neglectful ; but perhaps 
 weeks might have gone by before I should 
 have done any good, if it had not been for 
 him," nodding to Edward. " If any thanks 
 are due, you must give them there."
 
 86 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 Clare turned a curious observing glance 
 on Edward, who was engaged at the moment, 
 in eager conversation with her sister and Sir 
 Hugh; then said smiling, '^I don't know why 
 I should feel surprised, but I do." 
 
 ^'There's no cause for surprise. Miss "Wil- 
 loughby, it's his hobby." 
 
 Seeing her look at Edward again, as if she 
 was correcting some impression of his cha- 
 racter, he added, ''I don't mean to say that 
 he is anything of a missionary — going about 
 doing good — though I never should be sur- 
 prised if he took to it; what I mean is that 
 all his life long he has been dreaming of the 
 wrongs of the lower classes, and doing what 
 he can to raise them up. In some ways he 
 carries things too far. I sometimes tell 
 him," he continued, growing eager as he 
 spoke, '* that he dreams and dreams till he 
 sees wrongs where there are none ; and my 
 belief is " — here, however,
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 87 
 
 Ealph became suddenly aware that he was on 
 dangerous ground, and forgetting wha he 
 was about to say, and doubting as to what he 
 ought to say, he lost his head in a maze of 
 perplexity, and came to a full stop. 
 
 Edward's quick eye saw that something 
 was wrong. " What are you saying about 
 me, Ealph ?" he said calmly, turning at the 
 same time such a warning glance upon his 
 friend, that poor Ealph exerted the force of a 
 giant in recalling his senses from theii* be- 
 wilderment. 
 
 " I was only telling Miss Willoughby," 
 he repKed with tolerable readiness, ''that 
 you were axious to improve the condition of 
 the poor," 
 
 But Sir Hugh caught at the word. " Im- 
 prove the condition of the poor!" he shouted ; 
 '' who's talking about that ? You, sir ?" 
 and he darted an angry glance at Edward.
 
 88 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^^ And will you be so good as to inform me, 
 sir, what you see in the condition of the poor 
 that requires to be improved ?'' 
 
 ^' IsTothing here, sir," Edward said respect- 
 faUy. 
 
 '' Oh ! nothing here ! "Well I'm glad of 
 that. But let me tell you, Mr. Leigh, it's 
 all fiddle-faddle. The poor don't want to 
 be improved ; they are happier as they are : 
 it's your rascally demagogues that put ideas 
 of improvement into their foolish brains. 
 Preach about improvement over the seas, if 
 you please, but let England and Middlethorpe 
 alone. They like themselves as they are — 
 they don't want any of your cursed improve- 
 ment." 
 
 '' I will obey you," Edward said playfully ; 
 " and I shall obey you easily, as far as Mid- 
 dlethorpe is concerned; for if I were to search 
 for grievances, I don't think I should find 
 them."
 
 EDWARD AVILLOUGHBY. 89 
 
 " Well, I think not either," Sir Hugh re- 
 plied, mollified by the good temper of his 
 adversary; "and I beg your pardon, Mr. 
 Leigh, if I have spoken with too much heat; 
 but you must know I've no patience with 
 reformers of abuses, and improvers of man- 
 kind. Talk of the wrongs of the poor, and 
 then comes Tom Paine and the '^ Eights of 
 Man.'^ Then comes the world turned up- 
 side down ; then comes Eobespierre and 
 bloodshed and immoralitv " 
 
 " And Atheism," suggested Mrs. HoUis. 
 
 " Yery true, Mrs. Hollis, and then we 
 come to the end of all things. But I beg 
 your pardon, young gentlemen, if I speak 
 with too much heat. A man can't be cold 
 on subjects like these. You must know there 
 are four things I hate like the devil. lirst, 
 there's the reformation of abuses — better hang 
 your grandfather at once, there's no diffe-
 
 90 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 rence ; then there's Bonaparte ; then there's 
 this cry about education — poison, that's my 
 word for it; and last of all" — growing warmer 
 and warmer, and thumping his hand on the 
 table — " I hate my cousin, that yotng rascal, 
 Edward Willoughby.'' 
 
 A dead silence succeeded this speech. Ed- 
 ward was sitting with the full blaze of the 
 setting sun streaming on his face. It spoke 
 well for his powers of self-command, ill per- 
 haps for some other quahties, that he main- 
 tained a countenance utterly unmoved. Not 
 so, Ealph. He coloured crimson ; stooped his 
 head over his plate, and began to eat with 
 the ferocity of a ploughman, to conceal what, 
 had attention been directed to him, could not 
 have been concealed. 
 
 A greater degree of embarrassment would 
 probably, however, have passed unnoticed. 
 Sir Hugh and Mrs. Hollis were too much
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 91 
 
 delighted with the sentiments he had ex- 
 pressed to give time for suspicions or obser- 
 vations, and the two daughters blushed 
 and looked down. On Clare's countenance 
 there was, besides the expression of regret 
 in her fathers open avowal of enmity, 
 an expression of pain also, which Edward 
 was cool and collected enough to observe. 
 His eyes rested upon her with an inquiring 
 earnest look, and the direction of his eyes at 
 length attracted those of Sir Hugh. 
 
 He only laughed heartily, however. '^ Ha, 
 ha ! What's the matter, Clare ? That young 
 lady, Mr. Caradoc, does not approve of all my 
 sentiments. She would put a muzzle through 
 my tongue if she could ; but she's Avi'ong, 
 and I am right, and so she will own one of 
 these days. It is not often I hate a man. 
 When I do I know there's a good reason for 
 it. But I beg your pardon, young ladies and
 
 92 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 gentlemen J for my heat; and will behave 
 better for the rest of the evening." And good- 
 humouredly bowing all round, he changed 
 the subject of conversation. 
 
 For discourse of a quiet kind there was 
 not much opportunity. Sir Hugh loved to 
 talk when he was in the mood, and this 
 night, excited and interested, his tongue 
 moved volubly. Sometimes hearing wrongly, 
 sometimes rightly, he dropped his quaint re- 
 marks on every side, and made the party 
 easy and merry, if not witty and wise. So 
 long as sleep kept at a distance, so long he 
 kept up the flow of his discourse; but when 
 uncontrollable sleep began to approach, he 
 arranged the movements and occupations of 
 the company, as it was his custom to do. 
 
 *' !N'ow, little Ellen, get your backgammon. 
 That young lady, Mr. Caradoc, can't be 
 happy without her backgammon of an even-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 93 
 
 ing. Will you challenge her for a game ? 
 
 It's an old Welsh game, and you ought to 
 
 play it." 
 
 Ealph rose slowly from a seat he had taken 
 
 as near to Clare as he could, with whose quiet 
 
 manners he felt more at ease than with her 
 
 livelier sister. 
 
 " I won't refuse to try," he said ; '' but if 
 
 Miss Willoughby can get a better adversary, 
 
 I would advise her to do it. I have not 
 
 played these ten years, and I shall cause her 
 
 but inglorious victories." 
 
 " Will you take me instead of Caradoc? " 
 Edward inquired ; "I will promise you, if 
 not a glorious victory, at any rate a not in- 
 glorious defeat." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr.Leigh, you play with Ellen, 
 that will do much better ; and Clare, my 
 darling, go and jingle on the harpsichord 
 something soothing while I take a nap, and
 
 94 EDWARD WHLOUGHBY. 
 
 then well have a fine ^Hailstones' after- 
 wards.'' And before the words were well out 
 of his month, he was in a profonnd sleep. 
 
 Clare went to the pianoforte and Ellen for 
 her backgammon. Ealph followed Clare to 
 assist in her arrangements; but Edward 
 stood in a reverie, not only omitting to offer 
 his services in carrying a large backgammon 
 board; but also standing idly by, while 
 Ellen cleared a table and moved it forward 
 for the game. 
 
 When her preparations were made, she 
 looked* at him surprised and a little discon- 
 certed, then, half laughing, said, ^' If you had 
 rather not play, Mr. Leigh, pray don't do it out 
 of civility. Papa thinks that I really can- 
 not be happy without backgammon, but I am 
 riot so bad as that ; besides — " 
 
 But Edward was already seated at the 
 table, and making up by present eagerness
 
 EDWAED WILLOTJGHBY. 95 
 
 for past neglect. *^ I was thinking — " lie 
 began to explain; — ^' but I will tell you ano- 
 ther time what I was thinking of. I am 
 anxious now to prove the truth of my boast- 
 ing words." 
 
 Edward was a skilful player, and Ellen, 
 accustomed to the humdrum warfare with her 
 father and Colonel Ashton, grew eager and 
 excited in the game. While thus occupied 
 and unconscious of what passed, Colonel 
 Ashton entered unperceived by the window, 
 and quietly saying, '* How d'ye do?" to Mrs. 
 Hollis, sate down by her side. 
 
 Presently Clare saw him, and came across 
 the room with her usual cordial kindness to 
 greet him. Thus roused to the sense of his pre- 
 sence, Ellen rose for an instant, hastily held 
 out her hand, and sate down again. Colonel 
 Ashton said nothing, but remained leaning 
 his head on his hands in grave meditation.
 
 96 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 "Hullo, Ashton — you here I" exclaimed Sir 
 Hugh, before his eyes were open, with the 
 quick perception of the presence of his friends 
 on which he prided himself. " I beg your 
 pardon for receiving you in my sleep. How 
 long have you been here ? Pray, Miss Ellen, 
 why didn't you call me up ?" 
 
 '' Thank you, Sir Hugh, there was no need, 
 I could wait," was Colonel Ashton's reply, 
 in a very quiet tone, not without sadness. 
 
 Ellen turned round. " Oh ! Colonel Ash- 
 ton," she exclaimed, " I hope you did not 
 think me uncivil. The fact is, Mr. Leigh 
 does play so wonderfully well — I don't mean 
 this for a compliment — that I am obliged to 
 give my whole mind to the game, or I shall 
 be disgracefully beaten." 
 
 " I hope. Miss Ellen," he said kindly, 
 " you and I are too old and too good friends 
 to talk of civility."
 
 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 97 
 
 Ellen looked uneasy, and no longer giving 
 her attention to the game, rattled away at 
 random, and was ignominiously defeated. 
 Edward glanced at both countenances with 
 an observant glance, and apparently made 
 some note on the tablets of his memory. 
 
 Preparing, however, to renew his warfare 
 with his companion, he was again arranging 
 the men upon the board, when arrested by a 
 question — " Are you fond of music, Mr. 
 Leigh ?" 
 
 ^^ I ought to say yes,'' he replied ; ^^ but as 
 I am not quite sure, I can't do so. I don't 
 know." 
 
 ^^ You doD't know ?" Ellen said, laughing, 
 her attention caught again. 
 
 ^^ Music is a large term,'' he said. ^' When 
 I am asked that question I am always per- 
 plexed." 
 
 ^* It seems to me a simple question. Every- 
 
 YOL. I. H
 
 98 EDAYARD ^'ILLOUGHBY. 
 
 body likes one thing better than another ; 
 but you must know whether you like to hear 
 music or not." 
 
 '^Indeed I don't know/' he replied; "I 
 often ask myself the question, but I never 
 get an answer. Perhaps you will decide it 
 for me. Some sounds I like and some I 
 don't like ; some music pleases me, some 
 not only does not please but ii-ritates and 
 annoys me ; and I wish you to obserye that 
 I am not speaking of bad and good, but of 
 real sweet sounds of music, such as Or^Dheus 
 might have played ; and now, do I like that 
 thing called music, or do I not ? " 
 
 "It is certainly a more difficult question 
 than I expected," Ellen said, laughing; '^ you 
 must give me time, and I have no doubt I 
 shall be able to come to a decision." 
 
 " What kind of music do you like, Mr. 
 Leigh ? " inquii-ed Sir Hugh.- " Xow, I dai'e-
 
 EDWAED WILLOTTGHBT. 99 
 
 say you don't care a jackstraw for poor Clare's 
 playing ; I dare say you want those fiddle- 
 faddle valses and galopades that are all the 
 fashion now ; hut I won't have them in my 
 house, — I shut my doors against them, they 
 may go off to France, for anything I will 
 have to do ^ith them." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," Edward said smiling, ^^ I 
 quite agree with you ; valses and galopades 
 are the very things that destroy the little 
 patience I have ; and when you send them off 
 to France I don't care if opera tunes go with 
 them." 
 
 *' That's capital ! " cried Sir Hugh, in his 
 energy laying his hand with no gentle touch 
 on Edward's shoulder. '^ Xow, Miss Ellen, I 
 defy you ever to think me an old fool again I 
 Do you like ' Hailstones,' Mr Leigh ? " 
 
 " Extremely." 
 
 " And the ' March in Joshua ?' " 
 
 H 2
 
 100 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 "Still better." 
 
 " Why, Mr Leigh, you and I will do to- 
 gether after all. Come along, and you shall 
 have ^ Hailstones' to your heart's content. 
 Clare's a capital hand at it. Come along.'' And 
 he led him off in triumph to the pianoforte. 
 
 " Now, Colonel Ashton, will you play one 
 game ?" Ellen said, turning to him with her 
 brightest smile : "just one, to show that you 
 did not think me uncivil and ungrateful, and 
 everything that is bad.'' 
 
 " One or twenty. Miss Ellen, if it will 
 please you ; but you will find me a bad ex- 
 change, a worn-out soldier who will make no 
 stand against the enemy." 
 
 "But it is not pleasant always to be 
 beaten," she said, smiling. " You must come 
 and play not too well, and give me an oppor- 
 tunity of redeeming my character." And they 
 sate down in great amity.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 101 
 
 Sir Hugh stood behiad Clare's cliair, stamp- 
 ing with his foot and snapping his fingers ; 
 but about the middle of the Chorus he ad- 
 dressed a remark to Ealph, and receiving an 
 answer that pleased him, drew him off into 
 conversation, desiring Clare to ^' keep on" as 
 he went. 
 
 Edward sat down a little behind her, and 
 when " Hailstones," twice called for, came to 
 a conclusion, he just rose for a minute, and 
 said, '^ Do you ever play slower pieces in this 
 style. Miss Willoughby ? I am very ignorant, 
 and can name no names ; but I mean some- 
 thing that would do in a church — 'Hailstones' 
 would not." 
 
 She smiled and acquiesced, and chose two 
 slower pieces by Haydn and Gliick, — not 
 church music, but grave and solemn in* tone. 
 While she played, Edward sate still and 
 gazed at her. When these also Avere
 
 102 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 finished, he rose again, and came round and 
 leaned on the pianoforte. ^' Your sister asked 
 me just now if I liked music,'' he said, smiling. 
 '' I like it to-night." 
 "And only to-night!" 
 "I don't like it always," he replied. 
 " Whether it depends on me or the music I 
 don't know. Perhaps sometimes I am too 
 restless to listen. Did you ever feel. Miss 
 Willoughby, as if you had lived before ? " he 
 added, after a moment's thought — ''as if what 
 passed round you was either the reality of a 
 prophetic dream, or the shadow of a real 
 dream? I feel like that to-night."* 
 
 "Yes," she said, with a little surprise, "I 
 imderstand the kind of feeling." 
 
 " People say it comes from dreams — real, 
 common dreams," Edward said : "if so, I musfc 
 have strangely dreamed of Middlethorpe. 
 My spirit, or my fancy, or whatever is free in
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 103 
 
 dreams, has certainly made acquaintance with 
 you all before now." 
 
 "But are you quite sure," Clare asked, 
 " that you need explain it by dreams ? Have 
 we never seen you before ? " 
 
 "Have you ?" he asked, startled. 
 
 " I don't know, but I think so. ^Tien I 
 first saw you I thought I knew your face, 
 and my sister Ellen thought the same." 
 
 " A\Tiere can you have seen me ? " he still 
 asked, with uneasiness. 
 
 " That I don't know ; but I suppose we 
 may have seen you formerly, when we used 
 to go to the sea- side every year ; — at Brighton 
 or Hastings, or in the Isle of Wight." 
 
 " I suppose it is possible. But," he added 
 playfully, " I would rather refer our ac- 
 quaintance to the land of dreams. Will you 
 accept the acquaintance we began there ?" 
 
 " I will, certainly,'' she said, in the same 
 tone.
 
 104 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 '' But perhaps," he continued, '^ you don t 
 know what you entail upon yourself by that 
 admission. In my dreams our acquaintance 
 must have made some progress; for I do not 
 and cannot feel like a stranger here. I may 
 therefore offend by a familiarity which, ac- 
 cording to my own sensations, is not justly 
 offensive." 
 
 Clare only laughed. He surprised her; 
 and she did not quite know how to answer 
 him. What he said might have been con- 
 sidered impertinent, yet from his manner no 
 one could have called it so. ^^ Do you stay 
 long in this part of the country ?" she in- 
 quired, after a moment. 
 
 " The Lodge has been taken for two 
 months ; and unless Caradoc turns me out, I 
 intend to remain till the last moment. Ton 
 must be very fond of Middlethorpe?" 
 
 " I ! Oh ! yes," — with warmth. 
 
 " Even from the little I have seen, I feel
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 105 
 
 I would willingly live and die here. There 
 is something about it that, even on a first 
 acquainta ice, wins one's heart : so fresh, so 
 bright, so peaceful — in short, so English,''^ 
 
 "Have you been much abroad?" Clare 
 inquired, not quite knowing what to make 
 of her companion. 
 
 " Enough to make me appreciate England, 
 and worship it with all my heart." 
 
 " That will please you, papa,'' Clare said, 
 turning as she heard her father's footstep 
 behind her; and she repeated in quieter 
 terms what Edward had said. 
 
 " That it does, Mr. Leigh," Sir Hugh said, 
 heartily. " I nw^er can disagree very much 
 with a man who appreciates England as he 
 ought. I am very glad to hear you speak 
 as you do, and I hope we shall soon be better 
 acquainted. I am sorry to say Mr. Caradoc 
 says it is time to go. Good-night to you
 
 106 EDWAED WILLOIJGHBY. 
 
 both. I hope you will use no ceremony, but 
 make a short cut across my garden into the 
 high road ; it will save you half-a-mile. My 
 servant will direct you." 
 
 Colonel Ashton stared, for this was a 
 privilege accorded only to the old friends of 
 the family ; but Sir Hugh had taken a fancy 
 to his guests, and when that was the case 
 there were no bounds to his good- will. 
 
 As they stood in the garden, Edward and 
 Ealph paused at a distance from the house, 
 to look back. 
 
 At the end of a long avenue stood an old 
 arch, covered with ivy of a very ancient date; 
 and when this arch was passed through you 
 stood at once in the garden, the pleasure- 
 grounds on all sides surrounding the house. 
 The house stood in the midst. It was built 
 in the usual style of old English country- 
 houses ; and though its beauty was not sin-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 107 
 
 gular, yet beauty and picturesqueness it liad 
 in a degree, especially in the moonliglit. 
 The quiet beauty and charm of the place 
 was, however, in the garden facing the south 
 front, and this beauty was owing to a pecu- 
 liarity of natural position. A broad green 
 lawn, of about half-a-quarter of a mile, was 
 cut exactly in the middle by a rivulet, on 
 the sides of which bright flower-beds, taste- 
 fully laid out, sloped even to the margin. 
 A gravel walk encircled the whole lawn, 
 passing over the rivulet on each side of the 
 house by two stone and ivy-covered bridges, 
 of the same date as the arch. Nothing could 
 be prettier than the situation; and the most 
 had been made of it. 
 
 On this scene, shining in the moonlight, 
 the new-comers paused to gaze. Both had 
 taste for natural beauty ; both were excited ; 
 on both the stillness of the evening, broken
 
 108 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 only by the soft rippling sound of the river 
 flowing along, came with a soothing attrac- 
 tion. Both loved the peace and domestic 
 happiness into the midst of which they had 
 been admitted that evening, — the one with 
 the deep love of experience, the other with 
 the brighter love of fancy and thirsting de- 
 sii'e. Both stood, therefore, in silent admi- 
 ration and thoughtfulness, till Ealph, putting 
 his hand within Edward's arm, drew him on. 
 
 " Well, Edward," he then said. 
 
 "Well, Ealph,'' was the reply. 
 
 " Why, my dear fellow, how do you feel ? 
 are you satisfied?" 
 
 *' Quite satisfied." 
 
 " A man might be happy with either of 
 those young maidens, Edward." 
 
 '^ Yes," he agreed. 
 
 " There is no question which is the pret- 
 tiest, I suppose ? "
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 109 
 
 " Xone "whatever, I should think," Edward 
 replied readily. 
 
 "I rather admire Miss TTilloiighby, myself; 
 I rather like those sweet, pale faces ; but 
 that's a fancy of my own. That other young 
 girl is like an angel's child. I never saw 
 such blue eyes and such blooming cheeks ; 
 and then her smile reminds me of nothing 
 but a sunrise in Wales." 
 
 *^ Eeally, Ealph," Edward said laughingly, 
 " you are so poetical that you reduce me to 
 silence. As I can't say anything so pretty I 
 had better hold my tongue." 
 
 ^^ I say, Edward," — with a grave shake of 
 his head — "we must make no mischief in that 
 happy home." 
 
 Edward coloured, and a cloud overspread 
 his brow. "Don't talk of that, Ealph," he 
 said, " we're in for it now. There's no 
 drawing back, if one wished it — none. ' ' Then
 
 110 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 in a livelier tone — '' We must not be faint- 
 hearted, Ealph ; ' none but the brave, none 
 but the brave,' — I suppose you can finish my 
 quotation. Eut come along, don't let us 
 dawdle in this way." And withdrawing his 
 arm, and just so far preceding his friend as 
 to preclude conversation, by the light of the 
 moon, over hedges and ditches, he led the way 
 home.
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 " He flared t\e most destructive things advance, 
 And even prayed for liberty to France," 
 
 CfiABBE. 
 
 The favourable impression made by tlie 
 young men was doomed to meet with some 
 diminution. 
 
 A day or two afterwards, Sir Hugh was 
 walking ^ith his daughters in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Lodge. They were seen by 
 Ealph from the garden, and he and Edward 
 went out to persuade them to come in and 
 rest. Sir Hugh scoffed at the idea of rest 
 for any of the party, but acquiesct^d in the
 
 112 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 proposal without mucli reluctance, obserying, 
 "Little Ellen has the organ of curiosity, she 
 will like to poke about." (It was his cus- 
 tom to find excuses for his own wishes in the 
 presumed fancies of others.) 
 
 On reaching the garden, Ealph began to 
 point out some imaginary improyements 
 which some future imaginary tenant might 
 make in the arrangements of the Lodge. He 
 grew eager over them, and perhaps in a slight 
 degree tedious. Ellen listened for a little 
 while, then turned away to inspect more at 
 her pleasure the garden and a pretty mazy 
 wood which enclosed it on one side. 
 
 "You do not like descriptions, I see," 
 Edward said, laughing, and joining her. 
 " If you will let me conduct you I will show 
 you some pretty spots." And they wandered 
 away together. 
 
 Sir Hugh, perhaps sharing in Ellen's feel- 
 ings, was making all the time observations
 
 EDW^IED WILLOUGHBY. 113 
 
 with his own keen eyes. In the course of 
 these observations he darted his glances into 
 the little drawing-room, and on a table in one 
 comer perceived a large number of news- 
 papers. Kow Sir Hugh had a passion for 
 newspapers. He put his trust only in his 
 own, and all others were judged according 
 to the degree in which they assimilated their 
 contents and opinions to that standard ; but 
 whether to approve, to compare, or to con- 
 demn, he had no pleasure so great as to poro 
 over the contents of any and every paper 
 that came in his way. His own was his fund 
 of sober enjoyment, a stray paper was his 
 dissipation and excitement. 
 
 The unexpected treat he beheld imme- 
 diately brought some sensations of weariness 
 to his limbs. Sir Hugh was always sincere, 
 and did truly believe that he had become 
 suddenly tired of standing. He apologized 
 
 YOL. I. I
 
 114 EDWAKD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 to Ealph, begged him not to put himself out, 
 but requested leave to go and rest himself in 
 the drawing-room while he showed to Clare 
 the remaining beauties of the garden. 
 
 Clare was surprised ; but knowing Sir 
 Hugh always said exactly what he wished, 
 she prevented Ealph from making his over- 
 anxious opposition to his going in alone, 
 and they remained in the garden. 
 
 Had Edward known what was going for- 
 ward, his readier wit and more vigilant eyes 
 might have prevented what followed ; but 
 Ealph thinking only of Sir Hugh's repose, 
 suffered him to take possession of the room 
 without fear or dread. Cause for fear how- 
 ever there was. Among the papers were a 
 class of publications which Edward had once 
 read with eagerness, but of late years had 
 continued simply from a lingering interest in 
 persons with whom he associated, and 
 opinions of which he approved, no more.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 115 
 
 These papers were cleverly written, but no 
 amount of vigorous writing or originality of 
 thought should have reconciled any well- 
 thinking mind to the low morality and vague 
 religious and political speculation for which 
 they were distinguished. It had been one 
 of Ralph's great objects to dissuade Edward 
 from taking them, but Edward was wilful. 
 It was the chief fault of his character that 
 he was so. Advice usually had the effect of 
 putting him on the high horse of deter- 
 mined opposition. To the perusal of these 
 papers, among others of a very opposite de- 
 scription, Sir Hugh now sate down. 
 
 Clare and Ealph meanwhile remained in the 
 garden, and from improvements and plans 
 their conversation had turned — in the inex- 
 plicable way in which conversations will some- 
 times turn — to the character of Edward Leigh. 
 
 ^' You allow him to be your master, then ?'' 
 
 I 2
 
 116 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 Clare said, smiling at the simplicity with 
 which Ealph betrayed the entire sub- 
 jection nnder which he lived to the will of 
 liis younger companion. 
 
 ^^ I believe I do," Ealph replied, smiling 
 also ; ''or if not my master, I am sure there 
 is no one on earth, except my father, whom 
 I care to please as I do to please him ; and I 
 am not ashamed of it ; for though I am older 
 than he is, and though on many points I 
 differ from him, he has one of those characters 
 which rule, one hardly knows why." 
 
 '' Do you mean from talent ?" Clare asked 
 with interest. 
 
 "Yes, Edward is clever — certainly very 
 clever — and yet I don't know if that is 
 really what I mean. lie has a very peculiar 
 character. I don't know how to explain 
 what I mean, but I know when Edward says 
 a thing is to be done I bow to him. I can't 
 help myself."
 
 EDWAKD WiLLOUGHIiY. 117 
 
 " I think I see why — is he not very 
 enthusiastic?" 
 
 '' Yes, Miss "Willoughby, that is just it. 
 What he says comes from the depths of his 
 heart, and then besides he has an iron will, 
 so between the two there is no withstanding 
 him." After a moment's thought he went 
 on: ^' He has a peculiar character, and does 
 not always do himself justice. He has, at 
 times, a sarcastic way of speaking which 
 misleads strangers ; they think him cold, and 
 bitter, and scoffing ; but I, who know him 
 well, and who have known him from a child, 
 know that the warmth is natural, and the 
 coldness only from circumstances. He has 
 the best heart, the most generous disposition, 
 man ever had." 
 
 Clare listened with interest, while Ealph 
 enlarged with warmth on Edward's character ; 
 but there was something in her mind which
 
 118 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 lie did not suspect, an idea, the cause of her 
 interest, which, unless perceived, might 
 throw him off his guard. It was this idea 
 which made her ask if Mr. Leigh had been 
 led astray by political opinions. 
 
 ^^ Yes, Miss Willoughby,'' he replied rea- 
 dily, ^' Edward is, as I said, enthusiastic, and 
 he sees truth in dreams of systems, where a 
 man of plain sense sees nothing but delu- 
 sion. But he is growing ^Yise as he grows 
 old. Edward will be a sage yet." 
 
 '^ I think it must be a fortunate thing for 
 Mr. Leigh that he has a friend like you," 
 Clare said, with perfect simplicity, and 
 with a something of regret in her voice, as if 
 another thought was in her mind. 
 
 ^^ I think it is," Ealph as simply replied; 
 " I have none of Edward's brains, but I have 
 a cool head, and that is always at his service. 
 I sometimes wish that I was wiser, that I
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 119 
 
 miglit advise liim better — and more stub- 
 born, that I might hold my opinions, when 
 they are good ones, more stoutly against his 
 — but what can't be done must be let alone, 
 and what I can do I do.'' 
 
 Clare liked this devotion to his friend: 
 that she did might be read on her counte- 
 nance. Ealpli saw it, and answered it. 
 
 "I don't speak boastfully. Miss Wil- 
 loughby, of my affection for Edward — he has 
 done more for me than I can repay. When 
 we were both boys I made a vow to myself, 
 that my time and Avhatever mind I had 
 should be at his service all my life long. 
 Shall I be tedious if I tell you a tale of our 
 school days ? " 
 
 "1^0, indeed,'' she replied, with such evi- 
 dent interest, that Ealph went to his tale 
 with zest. 
 
 " I tell anecdotes badly, Miss Willoughby,
 
 120 EDWARD WILLOrGITBY. 
 
 and Edward often tells me I am prosy, but 
 you will be good enough to excuse. We 
 were at school together, a large school in the 
 north. I was a big boy, and Edward a little 
 boy. I was slow, but plodding and indus- 
 trious ; Edward quick, and lively, and 
 giddy ; always doing well if he pleased, but 
 often in disgrace ; not very fond of autho- 
 rity — Edward never was — but a noble, gene- 
 rous, well-principled boy. 1 don't know 
 how such antipodes as we are came to be 
 friends, but we were great friends ; and 
 though I had been two years at school, and 
 by my plodding had managed to keep my 
 place, while Edward was in a lower class, 
 still we were a great deal together. It 
 happened that a visitor at the school offered 
 a prize to the boy who wrote the best theme 
 on the Political History of Eome, the causes 
 of its rise and decline. Any boy was at
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 121 
 
 liberty to tiy, but it was supposed to be 
 offered only to the upper scliool. I had 
 always been fond of Eoman History, and 
 though it was a large subject, and my powers 
 were small, I thought I would try for the 
 prize. I said very little, but all my leisure 
 moments I gave to my theme. I suppose 
 patience and perseverance can do a great 
 deal, for at last my theme was finished — and 
 finished, I may f^ay even now, tolerably 
 well. I was like an old fool about it, so 
 elated and so proud ; and the evening before 
 the prize was given I called Edward into 
 my room, and begged him to hear it. He 
 came and listened very kindly, though I 
 remember now how flushed his cheek was 
 all the while. He made a few remarks, too, 
 hints for improvement, and they were so 
 wise, that I said, ^ Why, Edward, it was a 
 pity you didn't try your own hand at it.'
 
 122 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 He laughed, and^ I remember now, turned 
 from the subject ; but I was full of my 
 theme, and never thought of him any more. 
 Well, Miss Willoughby, I gained the prize, 
 and my brain was quite turned with my 
 own pride and vanity, and the praises of 
 the master and congratulations of the boys. 
 A day or two afterwards, a boy who slept 
 in Edward^s room said to me, ' Can you 
 
 tell me, Caradoc, why Willoughby ' " 
 
 As soon as the word was out, poor Ealph 
 stopped^ coloured, stammered, then incohe- 
 rently began to apologize. ' I beg your 
 pardon, Miss Willoughby, — I am sui'e I 
 beg your pardon — what must you think 
 of me?' " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Caradoc," she said, laughing, 
 '^ what can it matter ? Pray go on." 
 
 *' Where was I?" he said, looking bewil- 
 dered, and feeling convinced he should
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 123 
 
 repent his indiscretion — '^oh! it was why 
 Edward — why Edward Leigh," — bolting out 
 the word, — ^^ gave up trying for the prize, 
 after all the pains he took about it. I said I 
 did not think he had tried. ' Oh, yes,' 
 the boy said, ^ I know he tried, though he 
 never said a word about it ; for one or two 
 mornings I woke early, and saw him at work 
 as soon as it was day; and I know by the 
 books he carried up-stairs that it was the 
 prize he was trying for.' If I had been 
 stabbed. Miss Willoughby, I could not ha\ e 
 l)een more shocked, for I saw it all then as 
 plain as day. He knew his theme was the 
 best, and after all my pride and vainglory 
 he would not go against me. I taxed him 
 with it; and though nothing would make 
 him confess, Edward could not conceal in 
 those days, and I saw the truth in every 
 look of his face. It may seem a little thing.
 
 124 EDWARD WILLOrOHBT. 
 
 Miss Willoiighby, now, but such things are 
 not little at school ; and when I have lost my 
 memory on every other point, I shall remem- 
 ber what Edward did for me there." 
 
 ^^ I should feel exactly the same,'' Clare 
 said, warmly. 
 
 '^ And so I have been Edward's faithful 
 servant ever since. Our ways in life have 
 often been separate, and, as I said before, 
 Edward has been led away by delusions and 
 systems of which I could not approve, and in 
 which I had no share ; but such things made 
 no matter to our friendship,* and nothing but 
 death ever shall." 
 
 At length Clare spoke what all the time 
 had been in her mind. ^^ I think," she said 
 suddenly, "from all you have said there 
 must be a likeness between my cousin Ed- 
 ward Willoughby and Mr. Leigh. Do you 
 chance to know him ?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 125 
 
 Notwitlistaudiiig his lute mistake, Ealpli's 
 mind was so entirely TSTapped in his early 
 days that this simple question came upon 
 him like a clap of thunder. He coloured 
 and hesitated, then admitted uneasily, ^' Yes, 
 I do know him.'' 
 
 " And is there a likeness ?" 
 
 *'Yes," he stammered, not knowing 
 whither he was to be led, nor to what cross- 
 examination subjected, dreading, above all 
 things, to be brought to a decision between 
 love for Edward and love of truth — '^yes, 
 the circumstances are the same." 
 
 Here he paused. Her father's dislike, 
 the doubt how much her o^vn interest was 
 justified, and the dread of hearing anything 
 to her cousin's disadvantage, made Clare at 
 all times shy of questioning; but Ealph's 
 manner had invited her confidence, and his 
 charitable hopes regarding Edward had
 
 126 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 excited hopes of a favourable opinion of her 
 cousin. She was disappointed. He remained 
 silent, and she asked no more. 
 
 A little thought pointed out to Ralph that 
 he had lost an opportunity; but before he 
 could decide what to say, or how to renew 
 the subject, they were joined by Edward 
 and Ellen. 
 
 Ellen's inquiry for her father put to flight 
 the meditations of both parties, and all turned 
 their steps to the drawing-room. There they 
 found Sir Hugh sitting with newspapers 
 about him, his cheeks flushed, his counte- 
 nance agitated and disturbed. 
 
 '' Mr. Caradoc," he exclaimed, the moment 
 they entered the room, and lising to meet 
 them. '^ What have I found here, sir ? Is 
 it possible that you are a patron and dissemi- 
 nator of these vile papers, an associate of all 
 the profligate and seditious scoundrels in the 
 land?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 127 
 
 Ealph stood in blank dismay. AVTiat to 
 say, and what not to say — how to exculpate 
 himself, and not inculpate Edward — how to 
 speak the truth, and yet to soothe Sir Hugh's 
 irritated feelings — these were his difficulties ; 
 but while still pondering upon a means of 
 escape, Edward came forward and relieved 
 him. 
 
 " I must not have Ealph blamed for my 
 offence. Sir Hugh. He cares less and knows 
 less about these papers than even you do, 
 and if I followed his advice I should know 
 as little." 
 
 ^' I am very glad to hear it," exclaimed 
 Sir Hugh, his brow clearing up ; for disap- 
 pointment in his judgment of Ealph' s charac- 
 ter had added gall to his severity ; '^ that is, 
 sir, I am glad to know that my friend Mr. 
 Caradoc is innocent, but I am sorry for you, 
 Mr. Leigh."
 
 128 EDAVARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 '' You must not suppose, Sir Hugh, that 
 to know is to approve. I own these papers 
 are mine, but I do not own their opinions are 
 
 ^' If I supposed they were yours," Sir 
 Hugh said, with more seriousness than was 
 common to his manner, '^ it would be the last 
 time you and I spoke together. I did not 
 do you that injustice ; but let me ask you, 
 sir, how you can answer to your conscience 
 for giving the sanction of your name to such 
 papers as these, and, still more, for polluting 
 your own mind with the poison of their 
 contents ?" 
 
 ^^ There is no fear of the last," Edward 
 said with earnestness; ^^none can know 
 better than I do their falsehood and danger." 
 
 '^ He that touches pitch shall be defiled," 
 exclaimed Sir Hugh with emphasis. '^ Come, 
 Clare, let us be going."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 129 
 
 '^ Will this please you, Sir Hugh ?'' Edward 
 said : going towards the papers, he separated 
 those of Ealph from his own, and taking the 
 latter he tore them across the middle and 
 threw them into the fireplace. 
 
 ^^ It's only too good a place for them, Mr. 
 Leigh. There let them lie, and I would not 
 stretch out so much as a little finger to save 
 them." He rubhed his hands with some ex- 
 ultation as he spoke, partly with pleasure at 
 the destruction of the enemy, and partly 
 with gratification at this acknowledgment of 
 his powers of argument; but it was only 
 for a moment, for he added gravely, " But 
 what is a day — there will be fresh poison to- 
 morrow. Come, Clare, let us be going. Ee- 
 freshment, Mr. Caradoc ? " as Ealph en- 
 deavoured to make his offers heard. ^^ I 
 beg your pardon, but what sort of a 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 dinner sliould ^Ye make if we set to work 
 now. Xo, I thank you. Come, Clare." 
 
 " I don't know wliat to make of that young 
 man/' Sir Hugh said, after having walked for 
 some way in silence. " It's a bad case, I'm 
 afraid. I was a fool to be so friendly, but it's 
 never too late to draw back. I give the in up — I 
 have good ground to do it ; if it were a royal 
 prince I would do the same. I give them up. 
 I was a fool to be so taken in." 
 
 The whole way home he bewailed the de- 
 linquency of the times, so that a man 
 had need to have a hundred eyes to guard 
 himself against poison ; and again and again 
 pronounced his determination to make a stand 
 against evil by shutting his doors against the 
 present offenders. 
 
 The daughters of Sir Hugh, though so fair 
 and gentle -looking that they seemed matter
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 131 
 
 too soft a lasting mark to bear, yet inherited 
 from their father the power of forming decided 
 opinions. Ellen, who was the echo of her 
 father's character, entered heartily, though 
 without unkindness to Edward, into all his 
 discontent ; but Clare, half playfully, half 
 with feeling, battled for their new acquain- 
 tance. 
 
 ^* AVhat makes you stand up for them, my 
 love ? " he inquired with some heat. 
 
 " Only justice," she said, smiling. •' I 
 am sure Mr. Caradoc is a good man, and does 
 not deserve to be punished, and as Mr. Leigh 
 is his friend I think he cannot be a bad one. 
 I never can condemn in a hurry." In de- 
 fence of her good opinion she told Ealph's 
 story. It had pleased her and she knew it 
 would please her father. 
 
 ''Why, yes," he said, '' I like the boy — a 
 fine, generous-spirited boy ; but what is a 
 
 K 2
 
 132 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 boy ? For ^Yllat I know Buonaparte may have 
 been a generous boy, or Tom Paine, or 
 Eobespierre. Many a young prodigy turns 
 out an old fool. Xo, no ; depend upon it I am 
 right. I've been deceived, but now I'm wide 
 awake, I'll have no more to say to them." 
 
 Before he reached home, however, he left 
 himself this loophole. " Xever mind telling- 
 Mrs. HoUis about the papers, she'll never for- 
 get it. I'll have my eyes about me, but I'll 
 wait and see before I take any step. Depend 
 upon it if there's a plot going on I'll find it 
 out before three days are over." 
 
 u ^e're in a scrape, Edward," was Ealph's 
 remark, as he turned back to the house, 
 having watched Sir Hugh and his daughters 
 till they were out of sight. 
 
 Ealph's doleful countenance dispersed the 
 uneasiness which Edward had felt. Had he 
 spoken first he would possibly have said the
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 133 
 
 same, but opposition always excited him. If 
 we are, Ealph," he said, laughing, ''that 
 visage of yours will sink us altogether. I 
 never saw anything so disconsolate since we 
 were little boys at school." 
 
 '' Sir Hugh distrusts us, Edward. I don't 
 know if you felt the change in his manner, 
 but I did. It is a hateful thing to be sus- 
 pected." 
 
 " My dear Ealph," Edward said, looking 
 at him with regret, '' I ought never to 
 have engaged you in so crooked an adven- 
 ture. I am used to suspicion, and can 
 bear it, but you are too good for my bad 
 world. What shall we do?" 
 
 " Don't think of me, my dear fellow," 
 was Ealph's instant reply, all his unselfish- 
 ness roused by the kindness of Edward's 
 tone. '' Let us do whatever is best for your 
 plans. I am a fool to be so squeamish. If 
 a man can't bear a few hard thoughts I sup-
 
 134 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 pose he is not fit to live in this workl at all. 
 I^ow don't think of me any more. Let us 
 think of what is best. What will you do ? " 
 '^ On my o^^ti account nothing, Ealph. If 
 Sii' Hugh suspects us, let us live suspicion 
 down. He will think no better of us but 
 rather worse if we take any steps to prove 
 our loyalty as subjects and respectability as 
 individuals. And after all what could we 
 do ? You may, indeed, bring forward letters 
 of commendation and recommendation from 
 all the connexions of the House of Caradoc ; 
 but what could a poor vagabond on the face 
 of the earth as I have been do to assert the 
 beauty of my character. Xo, Ealph; let 
 things alone. My trust is that all comes 
 right in time when a man's intention is 
 good." 
 
 " What will you do then, Edward ? " 
 ^^Why nothing, as I said before. Let 
 things alone ; neither seek Sir Hugh nor
 
 EDWARD AVTLLOUGHBY. 135 
 
 avoid hira. Perhaps on the whole be back- 
 ward and indifferent ; wait till he comes to 
 lis again. Depend upon it he will not give 
 ns up. If we made excuses and humbled 
 ourselves lie would despise us in his heart. 
 Let us bear ourselves with dignity as inde- 
 pendent men, free to have opinions of our 
 own, and he will come round and respect us 
 in time. What do you say, Ealph ? '* 
 
 " You know best, Edward." 
 
 *^ I think I do on this point ; and now I 
 will tell you that you know best on others. 
 They are vile papers, Ealph, as Sir Hugh 
 justly calls them, and I will have no more to 
 say to them. I felt ashamed of myself and 
 them, when I saw them in his hands, and 
 heartily wished I had taken your often- 
 bestowed advice. But it is never too late to 
 mend. I will go in and countermand them 
 this very moment."
 
 CHAPTEE YI. 
 
 " Would that war might cease 
 Eetween our houses, and that all M^as peace." 
 
 Ceabbe. 
 
 Edwaed's plan was a good one. Eager- 
 ness to court him after the shock he had re- 
 ceived, would have placed Sir Hugh on the 
 defensive. Perceiving no over-anxiety to 
 secure his good graces, he becarae anxious to 
 bestow them. When he heard that Mr. 
 Caradoc had called at Middlethorpe and left 
 a card only, he felt a pang. When, on the 
 following Sunday, he was tantalized by a 
 view of the backs of the delinquents leaving
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 137 
 
 tlie churchyard as he issued from the church- 
 door, he felt injured and disappointed. 
 When two more days went by, and he re- 
 mained unnoticed, he began to be in despair. 
 At one moment he allowed he might have 
 be^n too hasty — the next, he braced himself 
 up to continue his warfare against the cor- 
 ruptions of the day, by neglect of his new 
 friends. Duty and inclination fought hard, 
 and duty began to lose its iron character. 
 In this dilemma he walked down one morn- 
 ing to consult Mr. Grantley. 
 
 Having described in no soft or measured 
 terms the scene that had taken place at the 
 Lodge, he paused, and then asked doubtfully 
 and anxiously, " Well, now. Doctor, what do 
 you say? — ought I to give them up ?" 
 
 '' Give them up ! Sir Hugh," Mr. Grant- 
 ley exclaimed ; " indeed I should hardly re- 
 commend such a line of conduct. We must 
 be just in our judgments, and in every
 
 138 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBT. 
 
 instance the conduct of these young men 
 appears to be so unexceptionable, that I 
 should be much disinclined to such an ex- 
 treme measure." 
 
 '^ But these vile papers, Doctor? Ko mat- 
 ter how good the outside is, if there is rotten- 
 ness at the heart." 
 
 ^' Most true, Sii* Hugh ; but there may be 
 excuses. Young men will be young men. 
 We cannot expect grey heads on green 
 shoulders. In those papers you mention 
 there is, I believe, a great deal of clever writ- 
 ing, and some truth in a mass of falsehood. 
 We cannot expect young brains to discrimi- 
 nate; they may be led away. We must 
 not be too severe." 
 
 " Well, Doctor, what you say has truth in 
 it. Young men will be young men ; and 
 poor mortals must not be severe with each 
 other. So you hear good accounts of these 
 young scamps ?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 139 
 
 '^ 'No scamps, I assure you, Sir Hugh. I 
 hear the very best report of their conduct, 
 and my own observation is equally favour- 
 able. I called u23on them yesterday evening, 
 after dinner, ?.nd we had some most agree- 
 able conversation." 
 
 *^ Did you, indeed ?" Sii' Hugh said, with a 
 jealous pang ; '^ and you found them at home, 
 and living in a sober, orderly way ? " 
 
 " Quite so," he replied, smiling. Mr, 
 Caradoc was doinghis accounts, and Mr. Leigh 
 was reading." 
 
 '^ Those papers, I'll be bound!'' 
 *^!N'otat all, Sii' Hugh. I happened to 
 inquire into his studies, and we had some 
 discussion on many interesting topics in con- 
 sequence. He was reading ^ Burke's Eeflec- 
 tions on the French Ee volution.' ISTothing 
 could be more unexceptionable." 
 
 " Burke ! why, I'll be hanged if I have 
 net read that myself. It's all right, I see.
 
 140 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 Young men wdll be 3'oung men. I will have 
 them to dinner to-moiTOW, and you shall 
 come and meet them, Doctor." 
 
 " With all my heart, Sir Hugh. I confess 
 I find very great pleasure in the society of 
 these young men. Mr. Caradoc is a thorough 
 English gentleman, and if Mr. Leigh has, in 
 some respects, a less solid character, I assure 
 you he has good points also. As far as I can 
 see, I think well of both." 
 
 ''I'm heartily obliged to you, Doctor, for 
 
 your good opinion ; and so now there's an 
 
 end of the matter. Seven o'clock precisely ; 
 
 and old Hardy has sent me some capital 
 
 grouse from Scotland. You have taken a 
 
 load off my mind." 
 
 * * * * 
 
 " Ah ! Ealph, who was right ?" exclaimed 
 Edward, as the note of invitation was tossed 
 across the breakfast table the following 
 morning.
 
 EDWARD WILLOCGHBY. 141 
 
 "You, Edward, as usual. I'm very glad it 
 has proved so." AndEalph's countenance ex- 
 pressed unmixed satisfaction. 
 
 One dinner at Middlethorpe was like ano- 
 ther, so far as outward arrangement went. 
 It seemed the natural order and disposition 
 of things, that the elder sister belonged to 
 Ealph, and the younger to Edward, and it 
 was an order in which both, apparently, 
 equally readily acquiesced. When Sir Hugh, 
 therefore, took his evening's repose, Ealph 
 and Mr. Grantley had followed Clare to the 
 pianoforte, and Edward and Ellen were 
 already at their backgammon. 
 
 In the very middle of a game the latter 
 paused and said, as if with sudden resolution, 
 "How was it, Mr. Leigh, that you came 
 to have those horrid papers ?" 
 
 Edward smiled at the abruptness of the 
 question; but instantly answered, "Chiefly 
 from habit."
 
 142 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " But is it not a bad habit ?" 
 
 ^^ Perhaps it is. I partly think so now, 
 but I never thought so before." 
 
 His kconic defence was so simply and 
 quickly made that Ellen had no more to say. 
 Her curiosity was not, however, entirely at 
 rest ; and though she could not make further 
 inquiries, she was pleased when, after a 
 moment, he pursued the subject. 
 
 "Did you and your sister join with Sir 
 Hugh in condemning me ? '' 
 
 '^ T am afraid I did," she replied. " I 
 don't really know much about it, and, of 
 course, I know my opinion is worth nothing ; 
 but as far as I understand, I think papa is 
 right ; and I hate a radical and a democrat 
 quite as much as he does." 
 
 " But I hope you don't apply these terms 
 to me," Edward said with some anxiety. 
 
 "I don't know," she replied, laughing.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 143 
 
 " How can one tell ? One must form one's 
 opinion from circumstances." 
 
 '^ And circumstances, you think, are 
 against me ? '' 
 
 ^^ It comes to my old question, — why did 
 you have these bad papers ? " 
 
 ^^ Perhaps you have formed a wi'ong idea 
 of these unfortunate papers," he said ; " there 
 is a great deal that is amusing, and a great 
 deal that is instructive in them. However, 
 allowing them to be quite as bad as you 
 suppose, can't you conceive that it may be 
 necessary even for an opponent to read them ? 
 Would not philosophy recommend that both 
 sides of a question should be studied ? " 
 
 '' I don't know much about philosophy," 
 Ellen said, decidedly; " but I certainly think 
 it very far from a good plan to read and 
 encourage bad things." 
 
 ^' I believe you are right," he replied,
 
 144 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 with more tliouglit and seriousness than was 
 usual in his conversation with her; "but 
 I suppose I inherit the disposition of our 
 first parents, for my curiosity is great, and 
 I have too much indulged it." 
 
 Ellen laid her hand upon the dice, for he 
 looked grave enough to make her afraid she 
 had gone too far; but before she could 
 return to the game he arrested her. 
 
 " And Miss Willoughby," he said, "was 
 she also loud in her condemnation — or, I 
 should rather say, severe ? for loud I know 
 she could not be." 
 
 " No," Ellen replied ; " Clare defended, or, 
 I mean, excused you. Perhaps you would 
 not guess it,'' she added, smiling, " but Clare 
 is much more good-natured than I am." 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, smiling 
 also, " I should guess it." 
 
 "Why?" she asked with surprise. "I
 
 EDAVARD WILLOUGHBY. 145 
 
 think I seem the most good-natured. Clare 
 is so much graver, and wiser, and better than 
 I am, that she has good reason to be more 
 severe." 
 
 '' But I fancy your sister has something 
 of a saintlike nature ; and you know those 
 who least want charity themselves have 
 always most charity to spare for others. It 
 is only imperfect perfection that is severe." 
 
 " You describe Clare exactly," Ellen said 
 warmly. " But how have you found out her 
 character so well, you have hardly spoken to 
 her?" 
 
 '^ Some peojDle's characters may be read in 
 their eyes quite as well as in their words. 
 Miss Willoughby is one of these, and if you 
 will forgive me for saying so, yours also." 
 
 " What is my character, then?" she said, 
 laughing and blushing a little. 
 
 He smiled, then said — 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " ' He that has light within his own clear breast 
 May sit in the centre and enjoy bright day.' " 
 
 She blushed again, not as giving the com- 
 pliment more than it was worth, but at the 
 prettiness of it ; and saying hastily, " Oh, 
 I didn't mean to ask for flattery ! " she began 
 to play, and he followed her, and the con- 
 versation came to an end. 
 
 Colonel Ashton, fi^om behind, seated on 
 his accustomed chair by Mrs. Hollis, had 
 been watching the game ; he here sighed, 
 and leant back, then raising himself again, 
 turned to his silent neighbour, and said — 
 
 ^' What do you think of our new friends, 
 Mrs. Hollis?" 
 
 *' What friends ? " she said sharply. 
 
 '^ Our new friends, here," he repeated, 
 nodding towards Edward Leigh. 
 
 ^' Pardon me. Colonel Ashton ; I have not 
 the happy facility for making friends, which
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 147 
 
 appears now to be the order of the day. 
 With me," she added, with a sage and 
 vehement decision, ^^ friends are friends." 
 
 ^'I am half inclined to agree with you," 
 he said, with a little shake of his head. '' We 
 will call them acquaintance, then : what do 
 you think of our new acquaintance here?" 
 
 ^' To say the truth. Colonel Ashton, I 
 don't think much about them." 
 
 " ^N"© more do I — so far, at least," he 
 muttered, '^as they themselves are concerned; 
 but as it seems probable they will be our 
 neighbours for some time, and as I suppose 
 such neighbours may very possibly influence 
 some of our friends' destinies in life, I ask 
 you again — what do you think of them ? " 
 
 After this repeated appeal to her opinion, 
 it would have been a great satisfaction to 
 Mrs. Hollis to be able to reply by a sweep- 
 ing denunciation; but she was an honest 
 
 L 2
 
 148 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 woman, and no love of effect ever betrayed 
 her into saying more than she trnly thought. 
 Her sentence was given, therefore, with 
 moderation, 
 
 '^ I neither like nor dislike them, Colonel 
 Ashton. I see no great cause for censure 
 as yet. Mr. Caradoc appears to be a respect- 
 able man — no trumpery about him ; and as 
 Mr. Leigh is his friend, I suppose we must 
 take him upon trust. There's my opinion ; 
 I must see more before I say more,'' 
 
 ^' Well and wisely said, Mrs. Hollis ! 
 Hasty decisions are foolish ones." 
 
 ^^ But I'll tell you more of my opinion, 
 Colonel Ashton," she began again, more 
 vehemently. ^* H there's no great cause for 
 censure, what cause is there for such violent 
 approbation ? Depend upon it there's always 
 mischief brewing under sudden friendships. 
 I never knew a harebrained fancy that didn't
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 149 
 
 end in ill. That's my opinion, and I don't 
 care who knows it." 
 
 " I partly agree ^dth you/' Colonel Ashton 
 said, in a low voice. " To look there, one 
 would think we had been acquainted a hun- 
 dred years." He glanced first at Ealph, 
 bending towards Clare, with a countenance 
 of deep interest as she played; then gave a 
 quickly averted look at the eager faces of 
 Edward and Ellen. 
 
 ^^A hundred, or a hundi'ed thousand, I 
 hope it may turn out well; but I never knew 
 a sudden friendship that didn't bring mischief 
 with it — never, never ! " Her hand went 
 down with a jerk on the little table near 
 her. Sir Hugh awoke with a start, and 
 got hastily up. 
 
 "What's that, l^Irs. Hollis?— whafs that 
 you are saying ? " 
 
 '' I was not speaking to you, Sir Hugh," 
 she said with dignity.
 
 150 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 '^ What ! secrets with Ashton I Well, well, 
 I won't interfere, he knows what he is about. 
 May I come here, young ones?" — approaching 
 the backgammon table. ^' Any secrets 
 here ? " 
 
 '^'No secrets, papa," Ellen said, laughing, 
 ^^but great disgrace; if you don't wish to 
 see me humbled, I advise you to go another 
 way." 
 
 '^ I'll stay and help. There, there's a good 
 throw — sizes ; now, Miss Ellen, what are 
 you going to do ?" 
 
 He stood by the board, watching with 
 interest and admiration the skill of Edward's 
 play ; and though professedly helping his 
 daughter, clapping his hands with glee, when 
 by any quicksighted movement, her best 
 attempts were discomfited. 
 
 '' You're a good player, Mr. Leigh ; I 
 shouldn't mind if I had a game with you, 
 myself."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 151 
 
 ^^ I advise you not to try, papa," Ellen 
 observed. ''You cannot often conquer me; 
 and Mr. Leigh is a thousand times better 
 than I am." 
 
 " Ah ! but with him I should put my best 
 leg foremost; — nothing like a good adversary 
 to stir up one's powers." 
 
 Edward looked up suddenly, smiling, and 
 said, " You will have the prestige of victory 
 on your side, Sir Hugh ; for 1 have already 
 been engaged in one strife with you, and 
 was conquered." 
 
 " How so, Mr. Leigh ? " looking extremely 
 puzzled. 
 
 '^ About those papers," he replied : " you 
 thought I was wrong in encouraging them, 
 and I have forsworn them for ever." 
 
 '' And all on my account? — to please me — 
 Mr. Leigh?" 
 
 '''No ; from convjction."
 
 152 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " I'm extremely tappy to hear it," ex- 
 claimed Sir Hugh, his face beaming T\'ith 
 delight. '' Then I did a good day's work 
 that afternoon? I shall think of it with plea- 
 sm-e on my dying bed. I tell you what, Mr. 
 Leigh, I begin to think you and I will do 
 together after all. There, Miss Ellen, when 
 will you speak to so much purpose, I wonder? 
 See how you think me an old fool again. 
 Why, I never was better pleased in my life. 
 I must have ' Hailstones' in good earnest 
 after this. Come along all of you, and we'll 
 make Clare play." 
 
 He went to the pianoforte, and Edward 
 and Ellen followed. They were shortly joined 
 by Colonel Ashton, who stood by Ellen's 
 side. 
 
 The '^ Hailstones" began as usual, accord- 
 ing to his desire, and, as usual, had hardly 
 begun before he drew off Ealph to converse
 
 EDWAED ^VILLOUGHBY. 153 
 
 with him ; still, however, he beat time with 
 his foot, and occasionally threw in a note 
 with his voice. 
 
 " Does Miss Willoughby play ' Hailstones' 
 every night?" Edward inquired of Colonel 
 Ashton. 
 
 ^^ Mostly," he replied. 
 
 ^' One would not guess it to listen to 
 her." 
 
 ^' I think Miss "VYilloughby plays remark- 
 ably well," Colonel Ashton said gravely — his 
 jireoccupied intellect misunderstanding the 
 purport of Edward's remark. 
 
 Edward coloured ; but before he could dis- 
 claim, Ellen cried, '^ I don't think 3^0 u un- 
 derstood Mr. Leigh, Colonel Ashton. He 
 wondered Clare could play so well a thing 
 she plays so often ; and I am sure I quite 
 agree with him. I always look upon it as 
 the eighth wonder of the world."
 
 1-54 EDAVAED AVILLOUGHliY. 
 
 '* You understood me quite," Edward said, 
 leaning across Colonel Ashton with a pleased 
 smile. " Thank you for it.*' 
 
 There was something peculiarly sweet and 
 engaging in Edward's smile, when it was a 
 genuine smile. As Clare caught sight of it 
 on this occasion, the idea flashed through her 
 mind that Edward might in time become 
 attached to her sister. It was a mere thought, 
 coming and going again, but it was sufficient 
 to give him interest in her eyes. 
 
 The smile perhaps affected Colonel Ashton 
 in the same manner, for shortly after he 
 turned away, and set himself down to pore 
 over a newspaper ; a shade of thought deeper 
 than it had yet been, on his brow. 
 
 '' Come, Clare," called Sir Hugh, as soon 
 as "Hailstones" was concluded, ''now let us 
 have 'Acis and Galatea;' ' Love sounds the 
 alarm ;' — that's a fine thing. Mi; Leigh ; —
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 155 
 
 and 'The Flocks shall leave the Mountains' — 
 I would leave mountains and valleys too, to 
 listen to it." 
 
 ''Is it decided yet whether you like music 
 or no ?'' Ellen inquii-ed of Edward, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " You promised to decide for me.'' 
 
 " Eut I am afraid," she said, laughing, 
 " I have forgotten to think about it." 
 
 " Then, without waiting for your decision, 
 I will tell you what I think myself — I don't 
 like music." 
 
 " I think you make a mistake. I really 
 think you do." 
 
 " iso'j what I like is something else, and 
 not music. 
 
 " What can it be ?" Ellen asked, a little 
 mockingly. 
 
 " That I don't exactly know. Something 
 in the sound, but not the sound. Anything
 
 156 EDWARD TVILLOUGHBY. 
 
 that brings to my recollection the days of 
 ' auld lang syne ;' or, still better, anything 
 that transports me in a di'eam to another 
 world than this. A few things have these 
 powers, and those things I like — nothing 
 more. That is not the love of music, is it?" 
 
 '' And ' Hailstones/ " she said, smiling, 
 '' what does that do -^ It is noisy enough to 
 have great power." 
 
 His countenance changed — softened so 
 much as to alter its character, and he said, 
 ^^ My mother used to play it. All these things 
 that Miss Willoughby plays, she used to 
 play." 
 
 '^ Ah !" Ellen said kindly, '^ I understand 
 now," 
 
 Mr. Grantley here joined them, and while 
 Ellen spoke to him, Edward went a few 
 steps towards the pianofoi-te. 
 
 Clare had heard what he said, and when
 
 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 157 
 
 she finished the airs her father had called for, 
 inquii'ed if there was any one favomite 
 thing she could play for him. 
 
 '' "Would YOU play, ^ Thou wilt not leaye 
 my soul in Hell,' from ^ The Messiah ?' " he 
 asked. ^* It is what I should like to hear, in 
 sori'ow, sickness, or death. Xothing eyer 
 came up to that in my mind." 
 
 Clare blushed a little, then said, ^^I hardly 
 like to play it in the midst of these. Will 
 you choose something else for to-night ?" 
 
 He shook his head with a smile. " Thank 
 you for refusing me — that is friendly ; but 
 my choice would be as bad if I made another. 
 The fact is, though all these old things please 
 me, I care only for such things as angels 
 sing. IX'ot," he continued, smiling again, and 
 anxiously, ^^from any likeness in my own 
 mind, rather, I am afraid, from the force of 
 contrast. T pretend only to admire what is 
 good."
 
 ]5S EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 *^ What can you pretend to higher, Mr. 
 Leigh ?'' Mr. Grantley said, laying his hand 
 kindly on Edward's shoulder. " You speak 
 humbly, but your words are boastful." 
 
 " I do not mean to boast," Edward said. 
 "Surely I might say something higher. 
 Practice is better than admiration. '' 
 
 " One always follows the other," Mr. 
 Grantley said, with some seriousness, " ex- 
 cept in the weak and the insincere, neither 
 of which, Mr. Leigh, I should take you to be." 
 
 Edward coloured, for his wakeful con- 
 science immediately inquired, " Was he not 
 insincere, or would his life have been what it 
 was ?" 
 
 Before anything more was said, Ealph 
 called Edward to " come and hear what Sir 
 Hugh was saying." What Sir Hugh 2vas 
 sayiug was to offer the young men his own 
 shooting for the approaching season, and
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 159 
 
 Ealph required Edward's assistance and 
 advice in accepting and thanking him. Some 
 eager conversation ensued. 
 
 Left to themselves, — for Ellen had turned 
 to Colonel Ashton, and was forcing him to 
 speak, — Mr. Grantley sat down by Clare, and 
 looking after Edward, obsers^ed, in a low 
 voice, '' That young man interests me. Miss 
 AYilloughby. I don't feel that respect for 
 his character which I do for Mr. Caradoc's ; 
 but he interests me. How do you feel about 
 him ?' 
 
 ^^ I feel the same as you do," she replied, 
 with ready acquiescence. 
 
 ^*I had a great deal of conversation with 
 him the other night, and what he said 
 pleased me. He talked a great deal of non- 
 sense, that I confess ; but it was a kind of 
 nonsense that has sense of a certain kind in 
 it. I mean to say, Miss Willoughby, that
 
 160 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 after I left him liis words recurred to my 
 mind, and made me think. I have been 
 thinking a great deal, and I have come to 
 two conclusions." 
 
 Clare was always the depository of Mr. 
 Grantley's reflections ; and she waited with 
 interest to hear them now ; with more in- 
 terest even than was usual to her, for he ap- 
 peared to be full of matter. 
 
 " My first conclusion," he began, dividing 
 his thoughts into heads, as was his custom 
 in his discourses, '' is that we old stagers are 
 apt to drowse a little, and require to be re- 
 freshed by the new thoughts and healthier 
 intellects of the young. Opinions, like other 
 things, may grow rusty, and require to be 
 brushed up, and if we cherish them too 
 closely, and refuse to bring them into light, 
 how are they ever to gain a new polish ? 
 There are, I allow, great dangers in Mr.
 
 EDWARD WJLLOrGHEY. 161 
 
 Leigh's opinions, great dangers in improve- 
 ments of all kinds ; but the thought that his 
 conversation excited was this, as a wheel 
 that turns all day cannot fail to accumulate 
 rubbish in its course, so it is possible 
 that the fi'amev\'ork of society may at cer- 
 tain periods require vigorous hands and 
 vigorous minds to rub off the dust of ages.-' 
 He seemed much struck with the novelty of 
 his thought and illustration. 
 
 " I am afraid you are going to become a 
 radical, 31r. Grantley," Clare said, smiling 
 with amusement. '' TThat would papa say 
 to hear you ?" 
 
 ^' You must keep my thoughts to yourself, 
 Miss "Willoughby, till I have time to master 
 them, and bring them under Sir Hugh's 
 notice ; but let me come to my second con- 
 clusion," — and here he lowered his voice 
 almost to a whisper. ^^ My conversation 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 EDWAED WlLLOrGHBY. 
 
 with that young man brought your cousin 
 ]Mi\ Willoughby to my mind. I felt it was 
 possible that he might be — or rather, I 
 should say, might have been, — for I fear it is 
 too late now ;" and he shook his head mourn- 
 fully ; — "just such another; full of good, but 
 wild, ardent, imdisciplined, the good running 
 to waste for lack of a wise head to guide and 
 direct it — for lack of kind hearts to counsel 
 and assist him." 
 
 '^ Ah ! Mr. Grantley," Clare said regret- 
 fully, " I have often and often thought the 
 same." 
 
 "I know you have, my dear Miss Wil- 
 loughby ; but it never struck me in the same 
 forcible light until after m}^ conversation 
 with Mr. Leigh." 
 
 "But why do you say too late ? — is any- 
 thing ever too late ?" 
 
 " God forbid I should say too late in any
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 163 
 
 uncliaritable sense," he said seriously ; " but 
 my meaning was this. Mr. Edward, if all 
 tales be true, has vitiated and tainted his 
 mind and principles by the bad society in 
 which he has lived ; and where this is the 
 case it requires a repentance of a very 
 vigorous kind, such a repentance as one does 
 not often see, to retrieve the character, and 
 give it back what its early years promised. 
 'Now, with Mr. Leigh, though there has been, 
 I fear, many aberrations from what is 
 right, though even now I do not at 
 all feel satisfied that all is as it should 
 be, yet there is an ingenuousness about him, 
 an admiration of virtue, and a desire to im- 
 prove himself, so natural and apparently so 
 spontaneous and instinctive, that in spite of 
 many little causes of disapprobation he wins 
 one's regard and confidence. But then he 
 must be younger than your cousin, three or 
 
 M 2
 
 164 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 four years younger, and that makes a con- 
 siderable diiference where bad society is 
 concerned ?" 
 
 ^^ Do you believe, then, all papa hears about 
 Edward ?" Clare asked anxiously ; ^^ do you 
 believe he is wicked as well as rash and 
 excitable ?" 
 
 Mr. Grantley shook his head — a long, slow, 
 grave shake, that said many more things 
 than his kindness would have permitted 
 him to put into words. It is not in a 
 secluded life that the spirit of doubt is 
 fostered, or that the lesson is learnt how 
 much the spirit of doubt is, in most cases, 
 allied to the spiiit of charity, 
 
 Clare withdrew her eyes, and began to 
 collect her music with an unusual shade of 
 sadness on her brow. For some months, 
 nine or ten at least, nothing had been heard 
 of Edward; and, comparatively speaking,
 
 EDWARD AVILLOUGHBY. 165 
 
 little had been said of him. In this lull of 
 the storm of coiidemn-ation, hope of his re- 
 formation had been rising in Clare's heart, and 
 she had pictured a coming day when he 
 might be received and even welcomed at 
 Middlethorpe. These hopes Mr. Grantley's 
 looks damped for the moment, and yet they 
 were scarcely damped, before with pertinacity 
 they sprang up fresh and vigorous again. 
 
 Clare's interest in her cousin was of a 
 very old date. It began when she was nine 
 years old. 
 
 A small room, opening out of the draAving- 
 room, had been the favourite sitting-room 
 of the late Lady AYilloughby. In this room 
 she had placed all her treasures, all the 
 precious things brought from the home of her 
 childhood, and all the gifts lavished upon her 
 by a doating husband. 
 
 A\Tien she died, Sir Hugh gave orders that
 
 166 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 her room should remain untouched, and so it 
 had remained to this day. It was not used 
 as a living room ; for that would have inter- 
 fered with Sir Hugh's desii'e that it should 
 remain as a memorial of his wife, and of her 
 onlj ; but it was always open, always fresh 
 and bright, and from childhood the children 
 were permitted to go in and out at pleasure, 
 so soon, that is, as they could be trusted to 
 see with their eyes only, and to understand 
 that there was sacredness in the order and 
 quietness which pervaded it. 
 
 Ey the side of the Replace in this room 
 hung a frame containing ten or a dozen min- 
 iatures. One of these was a portrait of 
 Edward Willoughby as a child. It bad been 
 sent by his mother to Lady Willoughby as 
 a peace-offering on her marriage, and how- 
 ever profound was Sir Hugh's disapprobation 
 of his cousin, and however rooted his dislike.
 
 EDWARD AVILLOrGHBY. 167 
 
 he was too much, of a gentleman to act dis- 
 courteously to that cousin's wife. The 
 offering was accepted, and a few months 
 before her death, was placed by Lady Wil- 
 loughby with some other miniatures of near 
 and dear relations. Whether influenced in 
 this by the beauty of the portrait, or by a 
 kindness of nature to which feuds and 
 disagreements were abhorrent, none could 
 tell. There the portrait remained, in that 
 sacred spot, untouched by Sir Hugh. 
 
 It was on her ninth birthday that Clare 
 dragged the old housekeeper into her 
 mother's room to question her about her 
 mother, and to beg for information regarding 
 the things she had most treasured and 
 valued. The housekeeper was an old and 
 attached servant, and with willing interest 
 entered into the feelings and wishes of the 
 child.
 
 168 EDWARD WILLOU.GHBY. 
 
 ^^ And who are these, Greenie?" Clare asked, 
 using the endearing abbreviation by which 
 Mrs. Greenwood was known to the children : 
 "they are so pretty, and I should like so 
 much to know." As she spoke she undrew 
 the green curtain which protected the frame 
 before mentioned. 
 
 " Those, my dear, were great favourites, 
 and, I believe, great beauties too. There is 
 your mamma's papa and mamma, and there 
 are two sisters and two brothers — all dead 
 now," shaking her head sorrowfully ; '' and 
 there is your papa when he was quite a little 
 man, and this one is your own self, Miss AVil- 
 loughby, when you were just a year old." 
 
 " And this one, Greenie ?" with the quick- 
 ness of a child to notice an omission ; " who 
 is this ? — such a dear little boy — I like it the 
 best of all." 
 
 It was the portrait of a boy of tlu'ee or
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 169 
 
 four years old, in a white frock and blue 
 sash. ; the miniature itself was beautiful, and 
 the fair, angel-like look of the child gave it a 
 singular attraction. 
 
 Mrs. Greenwood hesitated for a moment, 
 then soliloquizing that it was unnatural for 
 such near relations to know nothing of each 
 other, replied, " That is your cousin, my 
 dear." 
 
 ^' My cousin I Greenie ; then why don^t I 
 see him ?" 
 
 '^ He's a young man now, my dear, or 
 almost a young man. I dare say he is ten 
 or a dozen years older than you are." 
 
 '* Then why have I never seen him ?" she 
 repeated, looking at the old woman with a 
 wondering look. 
 
 "You must ask your papa, my dear,'' 
 — mysteriously. 
 
 " Oh, Greenie I" cried the little girl, as
 
 170 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 she turned again to contemplate the sweet 
 face of the child, with its large hlue eyes and 
 golden hair, " I am sure he is good." 
 
 Again Mrs. Greenwood hesitated ; but her- 
 self attracted as she looked, by the counte- 
 nance of the smiling boy, she said, ^' Well, my 
 dear, if he looks now as he did then, I think 
 he must be good." 
 
 ^^ Then shall I ever see him ?" 
 *^ You must ask your papa, my dear." 
 Sir Hugh was much surprised when his 
 little daughter applied to him with strong 
 interest for information concerning ^^ that 
 dear little boy." What he said rather excited 
 than satisfied her curiosity. He was at the 
 time undecided about Edward's character. 
 Tales of his strong opinions and enthusiastic 
 disposition had already reached Middle thorpe ; 
 but he was then only eighteen, and Sir 
 Hugh was ready to hope the best, and was
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 171 
 
 imwilling to poison the minds of his innocent 
 children with needless distrust and ill-will. 
 
 His answer was this : '' For some good 
 reasons, which I cant tell you now, his 
 father and I are not good friends. Whether 
 you and Edward will ever be friends, de- 
 pends on him^ not on me. If wishing will 
 do, I wish you may with all my heart." 
 
 And as her father wished, so did Clare. 
 She did not picture the young man, but often 
 and often during the remaining years of 
 childhood, gazed at the '' dear little boy," 
 and wished that some good chance would 
 bring him to Middlethorpe. 
 
 At fourteen, she began to be enlightened 
 regarding him and the causes of their sepa- 
 ration. Edward's career was decided, and 
 Sir Hugh, no longer guarded, discussed and 
 condemned in no measured terms his cha- 
 racter and conduct. But even then Clare had
 
 172 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 her own view of the subject. Of the dangers 
 of his opinions she conkl form no judgment, 
 but tales were occasionally related of his 
 generous interference for the wronged and 
 oppressed, which made her heart burn with- 
 in her. As she grew older she learned better 
 to discriminate, and was forced occasionally 
 to own that he was wrong ; but even then 
 the charity of a gentle and hopeful nature 
 Avas warmly excited for one whom all con- 
 demned, and who, in absence, had none to 
 plead for him. 
 
 When alone with her father, she often 
 took his part, and Sir Hugh loving to en- 
 courage freedom and openness in his children, 
 invai'iably, od. such occasions, entered the 
 lists with her. He liked her warmth — he 
 liked the generous sentiments she expressed 
 — above all he liked the argument in which 
 he was always conqueror ; for her soft voice
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 173 
 
 could not fail to be drowned by his loud one> 
 and her hopeful charity was feeble when 
 brought to bear against the force and vehe- 
 mence of downright assertions. 
 
 Such is the short history of the interest an 
 unseen cousin had excited in the mind of 
 Clare. How deep it was, and how largely it 
 was mixed with admiration of his character, 
 she did not know. Pity was the form in 
 which it was acknowledged, pity for one 
 who liad none but her to say a word in 
 his defence.
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 ''There forth they go, — he leads her to the shore ; 
 Kay, I must follow! I can bear uo more." 
 
 Ckabbe. 
 
 " Do you dine at Middlethorpe to niglit?" 
 Edward inquired of Mr. Grantley, a week or 
 two after the last dinner party. The meet- 
 ing was on the high road, and Edward, as he 
 spoke, turned to walk with him. 
 
 '^ IN'o," he said, shaking his head; ^* Satur- 
 day is a busy day ; Sir Hugh knows that, 
 and spares me. You dine there, I gather 
 from your inquiry." 
 
 "Yes," Edward said, smiling.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 175 
 
 Mr. Grantley smiled also, and counted on 
 his fingers, '' Monday, Tuesday, Wednes- 
 day, &c '' 
 
 " Not so bad as that," Edward said ; ''not 
 Wednesday or Friday. For the rest, as Sir 
 Hugh is so kind as to ask us, you would 
 not have idle people like Ealph and me 
 refuse. I am asked," he added, laughing, 
 ''merely as an appendage; Ealph is the 
 attraction. He and Sir Hugh talk over the 
 day's shooting, with equal enjoyment on 
 both sides." 
 
 "You undervalue yourself, Mr. Leigh, — 
 Sir Hugh speaks very highly of your skill." 
 
 "I am worthless though, for all that: 
 when I have done I have done; I have 
 neither patience nor memory to go over my 
 labours again. Ealph can, and does, and 
 likes it." 
 
 "Those who dine at Middlethorpe to- 
 night will have a loss," Mr. Grantley ob-
 
 176 EDWAED WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 served, after a moment. ^' Miss Willougliby's 
 cold is too severe to allow her to come down. 
 I was np there just now." 
 
 " Ah ! I thought yesterday it would be 
 so," Edward said quietly. 
 
 " If I were a young man," Mr. Grantley 
 said, a little nettled, " I should feel some 
 regret. Miss Willoughby will be missed." 
 
 ^'Miss Willoughby is a great favourite 
 of yours, Mr, Grantley," was Edward's 
 answer. 
 
 ^^I don't make favourites, Mr. Leigh; I 
 love all the Willoughbys ; but Miss Wil- 
 loughby is my friend. As good a friend as 
 a man can have. Old as I am, I am not 
 ashamed to confess that I have often found 
 the benefit of her counsel." 
 
 ^^ Minds are not measured by years," 
 Edward said, — '^ years are the falsest of all 
 calculations." 
 
 " I believe you are right, Mr. Leigh,"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 177 
 
 Mr. Grantley said musingly. ^' I believe 
 we men of years are apt to pride ourselves 
 too much on our wisdom and experience. 
 However, in this case I was not speaking 
 of mind: I do not know that Miss Wil- 
 loughby is clever ; but she has qualities that 
 surpass in value the gifts of the mind." 
 
 " You mean moral intellect.'' 
 
 '' I believe I do ; you word it for me well. 
 Miss Willoughby always sees what one 
 ought to do. There is no vacillation in her 
 mind where duty is concerned. I preach, 
 and most truly believe, the doctrine of ori- 
 ginal sin," he continued, smiling; ^^but I 
 confess, I often feel disposed to make ex- 
 ceptions in my mind. Perfection is not a 
 favourite word, I do not, therefore, use it for 
 Miss Willoughby; but I often fancy, that 
 among our fellow creatures, there are a few 
 who may be classed under the head of 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 EDWAED WILLOIJGHBY. 
 
 ' Israelites, in whom there is no guile' — and 
 she is one of them.'' 
 
 Edward was walking along, with his eyes 
 on the ground, listening, but without show- 
 ing eager interest. He now said, ^^ Judging 
 from Miss Willoughby's countenance, I 
 should say that she was a person capable of 
 very strong feeling. It is not among per- 
 sons of strong feeling that perfection is often 
 found." 
 
 ^^How so, Mr. Leigh? would you place the 
 perfection of our nature in the coldness of 
 our aifections ?" 
 
 ^^ / would not," he said eagerly ; ^^ I mean 
 only that it is so. What are often called 
 perfect characters are perfect because their 
 feelings do not overstep the common boun- 
 daries, and this has given insipidity to the 
 idea of perfection. Ardent feelings reach a 
 better perfection at last; but they are always 
 stepping out of the right way, and have
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 179 
 
 many a struggle to undergo in the war 
 between duty and inclination." 
 
 '^ Miss Willoughby has strong feelings, 
 undoubtedly," Mr. Grantley said, after a 
 moment's thought. '' They have not been 
 tried ; but none can know her without per- 
 ceiving them ; but I believe it is on account 
 of those feelings that I think her so near 
 perfection. You speak of a war between 
 duty and inclination; in her case I do not 
 think there could be war. My feeling about 
 her is, that her inclination is always to do 
 her duty, and that it never could be other- 
 wise with her, however hardly tried ; that 
 duty is the impulse as well as the principle 
 of her life." 
 
 " That is perfection indeed," Edward said 
 gravely. 
 
 ^^ It is the heart without guile, or natural 
 propensity to evil," Mr. Grantley replied. 
 
 N 2
 
 180 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 *^ To do her duty to God and to her father — 
 these two feelings rule her life, and I do not 
 think there is much room for lower ones. 
 Her circumstances may, and I suppose we 
 must hope, will alter; but I believe these 
 will always stand first." 
 
 Edward said no more on the subject of 
 Clare ; but after a short and grave silence, 
 began to speak of other things. 
 
 As Mr. Grantley had observed, Clare was 
 missed at Middlethorpe. Her absence was 
 so unusual that it broke all Sir Hugh's 
 habits, and fretted him. He missed the 
 mere sight of her bodily presence ; missed 
 her unobtrusive yet constant watchfulness 
 over him ; above all missed the music 
 which had become as needful to him as 
 daily food. Ealph missed her almost as much. 
 During the days wherein acquaintance had 
 been growing up into intimacy, he had 
 never changed his seat by her side, and a
 
 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 181 
 
 quiet, confidential intercourse had sprung up 
 between them ; marked on his side by 
 admiration only, on hers by admiration for 
 his many sterling qualities, strongly blended 
 with amusement. Neither Mrs. Hollis nor 
 (of late) Colonel Ashton added much to the 
 liveliness of the party ; on Edward, therefore, 
 and Ellen, the entertainment of the evening 
 depended. Edward was as gay and ready 
 as usual, and was incessantly by Ellen's 
 side, assisting her in her endeavours to 
 rouse and cheer the others ; but Ellen was 
 not at all herself. She was not accustomed 
 to be depended on, or to set things to rights, 
 and in her endeavours to please, she changed 
 her position so frequently, and fidgeted so 
 unusually, that Sir Hugh was almost put 
 out of temper. 
 
 At lengthy in a very imperative voice, he 
 called to her to get to her backgammon 
 board.
 
 182 EDWAED WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 ^^ If you can't play, Miss Ellen, at least 
 give us some amusement, and let us have 
 a little rational noise to drown the rustling 
 of your silk petticoats. 'Now you would not 
 believe it, Mr. Leigh, but that wilful young 
 lady there refused to learn to play, because 
 I would not have gallopades and such trash 
 in my house. What is a lady made for, I 
 ask, if she cannot soothe our souls with 
 Lydian measures. Perhaps you wonder how 
 I come to talk about Lydian measures, but 
 I learnt that fine thing of old Dryden's at 
 school. Come, Miss Ellen, get to your play." 
 
 ^^ I am very sorry I never learnt. Papa,'' 
 Ellen said very humbly; '' I never thought 
 I 'should be so sorry." 
 
 '^ Some people will not trust their betters," 
 Mrs. Hollis observed with asperity. ^' I 
 believe. Miss Ellen, I have had occasion to 
 remarK, at least one hundred times, that the
 
 EDWARD AVILLOUGHBY. 1S3 
 
 day would come when you would be sorry ; 
 but there is such a thing as being horn 
 deaf." 
 
 '' ]S"ever mind, my little girl," Sir Hugh 
 said soothingly, unwilling any should 
 reprove but himself, ''' we none of us grow 
 wise naturally. It's a thing that comes — " 
 
 '' Trumpery !" soliloquized Mrs. Hollis. 
 
 ''• Xow get to your play, Ellen. Come, Mi\ 
 Leigh, you can rattle the dice the best, give 
 us a little spirit in the room." 
 
 They sat down to the game in their usual 
 place, and Sir Hugh retired to repose. 
 
 One game was played, then Ellen paused, 
 and said, ^' It is not a pleasant thing to 
 make a sudden discovery that one is nothing ; 
 is it, Mr. Leigh ?" 
 
 ''^0, indeed; very trying," he said, 
 smiling. 
 
 ^' And that is Y>'hat I have found to-night.
 
 184 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 To see, or rather to hear us, anybody would 
 have supposed that I should be the person 
 who would be missed, and not Clare ; and 
 yet you see how it is, — everything up-side- 
 down because Clare is not here." 
 
 ^' You argue only from one side," Edward 
 said ; ^' perhaps if you were away your sister 
 would say what you do." 
 
 " No she would not ; if I were away, and 
 she were here, people would not look so 
 gloomily dull as they do to-night," And she 
 looked round and laughed. '' I sometimes 
 wonder," she continued lightly, " what 
 will happen when Clare marries." 
 
 Edward smiled, then said, '' AVhere there 
 are only two in a family, such a consideration 
 must always be an important one." 
 
 " But I am not speaking of it in that light. 
 I might marry over and over again, and no 
 one would miss me. It is Clare who is so
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY, 185 
 
 important, and that is because she is what 
 she is — not because she is one of two." 
 
 ^' I can only say what I did before," 
 Edward replied. " You are not a good 
 judge ; you cannot guess whether you would 
 be missed or not." 
 
 '' I wish you would not contradict me," 
 Ellen said, extremely provoked with him. 
 " If you mean it for flattery, it is no flattery 
 at all, for I had far rather see Clare appre- 
 ciated, than have people so blind as to com- 
 pare us." 
 
 Ellen spoke without thought or meaning — 
 half playfully, half petulantly. Had she 
 supposed Edward to have been in any degree 
 attracted by her sister, she would have kept 
 a better guard on her tongue. The eff'ect of 
 her words caught and arrested her now. A 
 deep flush crossed Edward's countenance, — 
 so deep, so sudden, that his quickly averted 
 eyes could not conceal it.
 
 186 EDWARD AVILLOrGHBY. 
 
 Ellen blushed also. She could not help 
 it; and for an instant both looked so con- 
 scious — so embarrassed — that it would have 
 been impossible for spectators to give to their 
 appearance any explanation but one. 
 
 Spectators they had. Ealph, by some un- 
 accountable attraction, was that very moment 
 dir.wn to observe them. He immediately 
 and discreetly withdrew his glance, and per- 
 tinaciously looked in the opposite direction. 
 Colonel Ashton, mth his head leaning on his 
 hands, had rarely withdrawn his gaze from 
 Ellen during the evening, watching with a 
 thoughtful and yet restless countenance the 
 smiles she bestowed on Edward's conver- 
 sation. He was watching now — gazed at 
 her intently, then dropped his head in his 
 hands, and looked no more. 
 
 A moment afterwards, they might have 
 looked with impunity, for the game proceeded 
 as before.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 187 
 
 Sir Hugh, who had refreshed himself by a 
 short napj now rose to watch them, and 
 called upon Ealph to do the same. 
 
 '' That friend of yours, Mr. Caradoc," he 
 said, " is a first-rate hand. It's as good as 
 a play to see him worry little Ellen. Come, 
 Ashton, don't sit snoozing there. As we 
 can't have ' Hailstones,' let us have what we 
 can get. Come and give a helping hand to 
 your poor little friend here." 
 
 Colonel Ashton obeyed the summons, and 
 placed himself behind Ellen's chair. 
 
 After a few minutes silence, he suddenly 
 said (and though he cleared his throat twice 
 his voice was husky), ^' Have you any com- 
 mands in London, Sir Hugh ? I am going 
 to-morrow morning?" 
 
 Ellen looked up with a startled exclama- 
 tion. Sir Hugh was aghast. People were 
 stationary in those days. A journey was 
 more or less an event.
 
 188 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " !N'ow, what takes you to London, Ash- 
 ton?'' Sir Hugh exclaimed, at last; ^^ I do 
 believe you find Middlethorpe dull — you 
 look half asleep. If you find us a bore, say 
 so at once." 
 
 Colonel Ashton shook his head and forced 
 a smile. 
 
 " Is it business ? ISTo, it can't be business, 
 we should have heard about it before now. 
 What's on the tapis^ Ashton? Hang the 
 French ! ^hat does tapis mean ?" 
 
 " I'm obliged to go. Sir Hugh ; I assure 
 you it is not pleasure calls me away." 
 
 ^^ Pleasure ! I should think not, in this 
 weather, and in the very height of the shoot- 
 ing season ! So you are going away, Ashton ?" 
 — in a testy voice of interrogation, after a 
 short silence. 
 
 ^^ Yes ; I'm obliged to go." 
 
 ^' "Well, then, it's too bad of you — that's 
 all I can say. There I have been planning
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 189 
 
 a great dinner for next Thursday, and I de- 
 pended on you for helping poor Clare to 
 carve. So you really mean to go ?" 
 
 '^ You can't oo to-morrow, Colonel Ash- 
 ton," Ellen said, looking up at him; ''to- 
 morrow is Sunday." 
 
 "So it is, little magpie ! She's right 
 there, Ashton ; you can't be such a heathen 
 as to set off on a Sunday morning. I'm a 
 J.P. ; I shall have you taken up." 
 
 " I had forgotten it was Sunday," he re- 
 plied. " Xo ; I must wait." 
 
 " Then to-morrow," Ellen said, rising from 
 her place, " you will come and see us, and 
 let us talk over your journey. You will, 
 won't you?" and she looked in his face with 
 an earnest smile. " We are not accustomed 
 to be startled in this way." 
 
 " Good-night," he said suddenly, putting 
 out his hand. " Yes, I will come to-morrow."
 
 190 EDWARD WILLOIJGHBT. 
 
 And with, a bow to Sir Hugh, and little notice 
 to anybody else, his long legs left the room. 
 
 '^ Ashton's a little in the dumps/' remarked 
 Sir Hugh. ^^ It's all for want of ^ Hailstones.* 
 I believe that poet is right who says we're 
 all like harp strings and want to be played 
 upon. Ah ! Miss Ellen, this is all your 
 fault." 
 
 ^^ I think it is, indeed," Edward said with 
 
 a smile ; and his eyes rested on her with a 
 
 peculiar expression ; but she was busy with 
 
 her disordered men, and would not, or did 
 
 not observe him. 
 
 * « « « 
 
 The two young men walked up the fol- 
 lowing afternoon to inquire after Clare. 
 She was better, and was in the drawing- 
 room with her father and sister. 
 
 Edward looked at her, then glanced up at 
 a portrait over the fireplace with a smile, and
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 191 
 
 said, " We might believe that lady had come 
 down from her canvass to-day." 
 
 This was in allusion to the cap and lace 
 shawl in which she had been wrapped as a 
 guard against the cold. The picture in 
 question was a portrait of Sir Hugh's mo- 
 ther, a celebrated beauty of her day, whose 
 beauty was revived in its grace and refine- 
 ment, though not perhaps in its stately per- 
 fection, in her granddaughter. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Leigh, those are the very 
 words I said myself this morning when she 
 came down in that matronly dress. It's a 
 singular thing what likenesses there are in 
 families." 
 
 " It is, indeed," Edward said : ^^ nothing 
 more puzzling.'' 
 
 " That's a fine picture, Mr. Leigh. I look 
 at it sometimes for an hour together, and 
 every moment some fresh beauty comes 
 out."
 
 192 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^^ 1 could do the same." And Edward's eye 
 wandered from the portrait to Clare. 
 
 "It's a 'Gainsborough;' — Gainsborough 
 was a great man, Mr. Leigh." 
 
 '^ My favourite artist," Edward said with 
 warmth, 
 
 " Do you say that, Mr. Leigh? — why hang 
 me if we don't think alike on all points. 
 It's one of the most singular things I 
 know." 
 
 Edward's eyes sparkled with pleasure at 
 this speech. The expression was so visible 
 that Clare saw it, and gave to it a meaning 
 which was anything but unwelcome to her. 
 It was not the first nor the second time that 
 she had contemplated with growing certainty 
 the probability of Edward's attachment to 
 her sister. 
 
 The idea received further confirmation 
 this afternoon.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 193 
 
 While Ealpli and Sir Hugh were talking 
 to Clare, Edward went to the opposite side 
 of the fireplace and entered into conversa- 
 tion with Ellen. Suddenly Clare saw him 
 stoop towards her : something passed which 
 caused Ellen to turn away her eyes and blush 
 deeply. Edward's back was towards her, 
 or she might have altered the opinion 
 she naturally though hastily formed, for 
 his countenance was more mischievous than 
 loverlike. 
 
 What he had said was simply this. With 
 mysterious gravity of tone, but eyes smiling 
 with meaning, he had inquired if any fur- 
 ther light had been thrown on the start- 
 ling announcement they had heard from 
 Colonel Ashton the preceding evening. 
 It was certainly, considering their degree of 
 acquaintance, an unwarrantable freedom on 
 Edward's part ; but there was something 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 about him which made impertinence an 
 impossibility, and the utmost resentment his 
 freedom ever excited evaporated under the 
 simple reflection ^^ that it tvas EdwardP 
 
 All the party proceeded to afternoon 
 church together ; and after church Colonel 
 Ashton having joined them, Sir Hugh begged 
 the young men to turn back again to Mid- 
 dlethorpe ; but they excused themselves and 
 went homewards. 
 
 " Now I like that," Sir Hugh said, looking 
 after them, *^ with the encouragement I give 
 most men would stick to one like a leech ; 
 but they know what's what better than I 
 do myself." 
 
 Mrs. Hollis murmured an assent to this 
 assertion; and Colonel Ashton said, "You 
 think very highly of those young men, I per- 
 ceive. Sir Hugh." 
 
 "And why should I not ?" he asked sharply,
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 195 
 
 for lie was occasionally visited by qualms 
 that lie was a fool to be so friendly. . 
 
 ^^ For no good reason that I can tell,", was 
 Colonel Ashton's reply, Avith a half sad 
 smile and a glance at Ellen. 
 
 She caught it, and walked along in deep 
 thought. 
 
 On entering the garden Mrs. HoUis hur- 
 ried home, and Sir Hugh followed her to see 
 if Clare was still in the drawing-room. Ellen 
 seized the opportunity. 
 
 ^' What makes you go. Colonel Ashton ?" 
 she said earnestly. ^^ I don't ask from curio- 
 sity. Has anything displeased you ? I am 
 very sorry if there has." 
 
 "My dear Miss Ellen,'' he said gravely, 
 "why should there be this regret at my de- 
 parture? It is very kind, but it does me 
 harm. I should learn to know that age and 
 youth do not suit together." 
 
 2
 
 196 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^'How can you talk of age?" she cried, 
 half angrily; then more sadly, "I knew it 
 was that, and my conscience tells me you 
 are right. I have seemed to neglect an old 
 friend; but if you care to know what I 
 really feel, an old friend is more to me, a 
 thousand and a thousand times over, than 
 any new friend can ever be." The deep 
 blush on her cheek gave more force to her 
 words than their frank and careless wording 
 might have warranted. 
 
 ^'Is this quite the truth. Miss Ellen?" he 
 said, regarding her ^dth a fixed and serious 
 look. 
 
 "Quite the truth," she replied, blushing 
 still more deeply. 
 
 Colonel Ash ton said no more. They 
 moved on in silence, till Sir Hugh came to 
 hasten them. 
 
 " Come, Ashton, and pay your respects to
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 197 
 
 Clare; you will think her looking a little 
 pale, but she is quite well, and Mrs. Hollis 
 cured her. That's a famous receipt Mrs. 
 Hollis has." 
 
 ''It may be famous," Ellen said laughing ; 
 "but as poor Clare took it five days ago, and 
 is still shut up, I don't think much of it 
 myself." 
 
 ''Well that's true, but it might have been 
 much worse. Come in, Ashton." 
 
 Colonel Ashton' s visit was shortly over; 
 for observing that Clare looked tired, he 
 got up after a very few minutes conversation. 
 
 "And is this to be good-bye?" she asked 
 as he held out his hand ; "I hope not." 
 
 He coloured a little, and hesitated, then 
 said he had not quite decided what he 
 should do, but they should know his move- 
 ments. 
 
 "I can't quite make him out," Sir Hugh
 
 198 EDWARD "WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 said ponderingly, as lie disappeared; ^'he's 
 got something or other in his head. Do you 
 know anything of this business, magpie?" 
 
 Ellen plunged her head into a large vase 
 of autumnal roses, and exclaimed, "Oh! how 
 sweet ! one would think it was June." 
 
 "It looks a little cloudy though, to-night," 
 observed Sir Hugh, walking to the window; 
 "I'm afraid we shall have some rain; and 
 my glass is the least bit unsteady." 
 
 "It really must not rain, papa," Ellen said 
 decidedly ; "I cannot let this autumn go." 
 
 " Ah ! but, Miss Ellen," — shaking his head 
 with sage seriousness — " it is not us poor 
 mortals that order the, winds and storms on 
 their way."
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 " Such wiis this maid, the angel of her race, 
 
 "Whom 1 had loved in any time or place ; 
 
 But in a time and place which chance assigned, 
 
 "When it was almost treason to be kind. 
 
 Then wonder not that love in terror grew 
 
 "With double speed." 
 
 Ceabbe. 
 
 The next day it rained hard. Ellen and 
 her father walked about the house like rest- 
 less ghosts, each adding to the restlessness of 
 the. other by perpetual assurances that it was 
 going to clear. 
 
 The next morning early, Sir Hugh received 
 a visit from Colonel Ashton, the purport of 
 which was to ask his leave to attempt to 
 gain the affections of his daughter Ellen,
 
 200 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 Sir Hugh was not fond of being surprised, 
 having a high notion of his own power of 
 discernment, but he could not conceal his 
 astonishment at this. When, however, he 
 found that his daughter was prepared for 
 his news, and willing to agree to Colonel 
 Ashton's proposal, his joy so exceeded his 
 surprise, that the former was forgotten, and 
 in half-an-hour he was exulting over the 
 blindness which Mrs. Hollis and Clare 
 honestly confessed; and began truly and 
 sincerely to believe that he had seen it all 
 along. 
 
 Clare's surprise was for a moment mingled 
 with disappointment. She now discovered 
 how far more than she had been conscious of, 
 the idea of Edward's attachment had been 
 occupying her mind. There was little 
 doubt that Ellen's happiness was more 
 entirely safe in the hands of Colonel Ashton
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 201 
 
 than it would have been with one, restless, 
 untried, and excitable like Edward; but 
 there was a smouldering fire in Edward's 
 character, which answered to something in 
 the nature of Clare ; and she had pleased 
 herself vaguely and unconsciously, by think- 
 ing he might some day belong to them. 
 
 Disappointment could not, however, with- 
 stand the expression of perfect satisfaction in 
 Ellen's countenance, and the ecstatic joy in 
 that of Colonel Ashton. He looked like a 
 man from whom the weight of years had 
 been removed ; and youthful as was Ellen's 
 appearance, there certainly was nothing 
 unsuitable in their looks^ as they stood 
 together to receive Sir Hugh's hearty con- 
 gratulations and blessing. 
 
 ^^ Ashton is a worthy man," he repeated 
 three times over to his daughter; '^and 
 that's why I am happy. This world's goods
 
 202 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 are very well, and I am not the man to say 
 a word against them, but they are nothing 
 but the chaff in the wilderness, when weighed 
 with worth and truth, and honour and good- 
 ness. So God bless you, my darling, for 
 giving me a worthy son." 
 
 In the course of the afternoon, Edward 
 Leigh called at Middlethorpe. On being 
 told that Sir Hugh and the young ladies 
 were out, he sent up a message to Mrs. 
 HoUis to say he had called to ask if she 
 would be kind enough to copy out her receipt 
 for the influenza, as Mr. Caradoc was very 
 unwell with it. 
 
 The servant took up the message. Before 
 he went, he begged Edward to wait in the 
 drawing-room till Mrs. HoUis came down. 
 
 When the door of the drawing-room closed, 
 Edward placed himself, with folded arms, to 
 contemplate at his pleasure the portrait
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 203 
 
 before mentioned. '^ Less perfect/' he mur- 
 mured ; *' but more lovely — less of self and 
 earth — more of love and heaven." 
 
 The words were lingering on his lips, 
 when the door in the panel leading to 
 Lady Willoughby's room, opened, and Clare 
 appeared. He had never perceived the ex- 
 istence of the door before ; and at this 
 unexpected entrance he* looked so bewildered 
 that Clare came towards him laughing. 
 
 ^^ I beg your pardon," she said; ^^Idid 
 not know you were here." 
 
 *^I beg yours," he said; ^'but how are 
 you here ? — where do you come from ? I 
 believe I ought to beg it again," he con- 
 tinued, laughing, '^ for such an impertinent 
 question ; but I never saw that door before." 
 
 *^ There is a room beyond," she said. 
 
 " I wish you would, some day, show me 
 Middlethorpe," he said ; " I like old houses
 
 204 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 like this, and have a passion for nooks and 
 corners." 
 
 Clare turned a few steps back to the door. 
 " Do you like to look at this one now ? '' she 
 said, acting on a momentary impulse — for 
 Lady Willoughby's room was not usually 
 shown to strangers. 
 
 "I should like it of all things," here- 
 plied eagerly. 
 
 She led the way, and he followed ; but as 
 he entered the room, curiosity and every 
 lighter feeling died, and awe fell upon him. 
 The room was bright and cheerful — the sun 
 shone in with a full light, and streamed on 
 gems of art and porcelain — yet there was 
 something in it, something even in its 
 brightness and freshness, something in the 
 precision of its arrangements, that touched 
 the fancy : marking it as the treasured pos- 
 session of one who could possess it no more. 
 
 Edward looked at his companion — looked
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 205 
 
 around hiin and was silent. His memory 
 flew back, and he recalled an early death 
 in the springtide of happiness — a death over 
 which his own mother had shed tears of 
 pity and regret — and the softness of 
 kindness and sympathy stole over his 
 countenance. 
 
 Struck by, and grateful for the quick 
 intuition, the ready sympathy he showed, 
 Clare, after a short silence, pointed to several 
 things worthy of notice in the room. Then 
 undrew the curtain which hung before the 
 frame of miniatures, and invited him to 
 look at them. '^ They are very pretty," she 
 said ; ^^ and I believe some of them are really 
 valuable and beautiful." 
 
 He approached, and his eyes fell upon 
 himself. The original of which this minia- 
 ture was a copy, had been on his mothers 
 table by day, and by her side at night ; and
 
 206 EDWARD WILLOTIGHBY. 
 
 since her death had figuratively been buried 
 with her, for the elder Mr. Willoughby had 
 shut from his eyes all things that reminded 
 him of his wife, in a vain endeavour to 
 banish his regret at her loss. Days of hap- 
 piness rose before Edward's eyes as he 
 gazed : his mother's love, his youthful home, 
 his childhood's innocence ; and forgetful of 
 all but that slumbering, yet not forgotten, 
 past, he yielded himself to the memories rush- 
 ing over him, and tears fell down his cheeks. 
 
 His head was turned from her, yet Clare 
 perceived with surprise his emotion, and in 
 vain endeavoured to account for it. She 
 drew a little backward, however, and suf- 
 fered him to remain undisturbed. Her re- 
 flection was that human beings are made up 
 of many and complex feelings, and none can 
 tell how or why another is affected. 
 
 Edward soon roused himself, but he
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGITBY. 207 
 
 was still Tinder excitement ; and turning to- 
 wards her he pointed to the miniature, and 
 said, "Is it not a sad thought that man in his 
 mature wisdom can do nothing but envy the 
 days that are gone by ?'' 
 
 "That is my cousin Edward," Clare said, 
 startled : "do you know him ?'' 
 
 "He is not like that now," was Edward's 
 reply, and in his tone there was something 
 of the passionate regret he felt in his heart as 
 he gazed on the innocent brow of the child. 
 
 " Do you know my cousin ? " Clare re- 
 peated. 
 
 " I saw that," Edward said, " years ago — 
 it brought to my recollection days long past, 
 but not forgotten." 
 
 " Days connected with my cousin ? " she 
 asked, and looked at him with eager 
 interest. 
 
 " Yes, with him," Edward said, and turned 
 again to gaze on the childish face.
 
 208 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 " You say lie is not like that now," 
 Clare began again, her heart beating 
 with anxiety ; the moment was come when 
 she was to be resolved whether her father's 
 opinion was just, or her own interest 
 justifiable. 
 
 Edward looked at her ; he saw her cheek 
 flushed — her eye eager — strong interest im- 
 printed on every feature ; and he asked 
 himself for what should he wait ; why not 
 at once throw himself upon her interest, her 
 love, and her compassion ? But at the very 
 moment this thought with almost overwhelm- 
 ing force presented itself, another rose and 
 vanquished it. This was a desire, singular, 
 yet not incomprehensible in its nature, — to 
 obtain her love, as he vjas^ without the aid 
 of old fancy and predilection ; a jealousy of 
 his own absent self, a wish to be loved in 
 his present one. This jealousy was the
 
 EBWAED WILLOUGHBT. 209 
 
 birth of a moment, yet grew up with such 
 intensity, that the next instant all past 
 emotion and agitation was overcome, and 
 he was Edward Leigh once more. 
 
 "What do you wish to know?" he 
 said, in a calm and collected manner. "I 
 will tell you all you please about your 
 cousin." 
 
 " If you can tell me any good," she said, 
 " I shall be more glad than I can say to 
 hear it ; but do not tell me any ill ; we have 
 had enough of that here." 
 
 " Good and ill," Edward replied, — with a 
 strong effort mastering the emotion her 
 kind words caused him — "are mixed in 
 most men's lives. It is not those who seem 
 to have the larger mixture of evil, who are 
 always worst at heart. Ardent spirits like 
 your cousin's find it hard to keep the 
 steady track ; and there is such a thing as 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 2l0 
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 going astray even in the very search after 
 perfection." 
 
 " Yes, I understand that," Clare said. 
 ''It is what I have always felt about him. 
 His intentions are good, but he is careless 
 in the choice of ways and means of good. 
 Why is it so ? How can he forget that 
 good never can come of evil ?" 
 
 ^^ He has done so," Edward said — a tone 
 of excitement, almost of passion, coming to 
 his voice again — '' but he will do so no more. 
 He has set before his eyes a better perfec- 
 tion now, and one that cannot mislead 
 him." 
 
 *' My cousin would be grateful," Clare said, 
 surprised, yet smiling at his warmth, " if 
 he could know how warm an advocate he 
 had." 
 
 Edward coloured, then smiled, and said, 
 '* Some people are very combustible. They
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 211 
 
 cannot go near a fiery subject without catch- 
 ing fire.'' Then again more gravely added, 
 ^' I have a right to be a warm advocate, for 
 all the evil that can be said of your cousin 
 may be said of me ; and I hope not the evil 
 only. If he has good desires, so I hope 
 have I — nay, I do not hope only, I know it ; 
 desires which nothing can satisfy, but what 
 is highest, holiest, and best." 
 
 As Edward ceased, the current of Clare's 
 reflections changed. Her thoughts recurred 
 to her sister, and to Edward's supposed 
 feelings towards her. She even believed 
 him to be appealing to her sympathy, and 
 endeavouring to secure her favourable 
 opinion. It was a proof of the absorbing 
 interest excited by thoughts of her cousin's 
 welfare, that during this conversation with 
 Edward, her sister's marriage — which up to 
 that moment had entirely engrossed her, ex- 
 
 p 2
 
 212 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 citing, amid joy, many regrets and some few 
 tears — had entirely passed from her memory. 
 
 She led the way back into the drawing- 
 room, and sate down in silence, feeling that 
 an unpleasant duty lay before her ; but before 
 she had summoned courage to speak Mrs. 
 HoUis entered and joined them. 
 
 She came in armed with her receipt, and 
 proceeded at once to business. ^^ This is the 
 draught, Mr. Leigh : — 
 
 " One teaspoonful of syrup of poppies, 
 One ditto of mendereries, 
 Fifteen drops of antimonial wine ; 
 to be taken in a glass of hot lemonade. Mr. 
 Caradoc must be careful to guard against the 
 cold after the mixture has been taken." 
 
 '^ A most merciful receipt," Edward cried, 
 laughing. ^' I wish I was ill myself." 
 
 "I hope Mr. Caradoc will find the benefit 
 of it," Mrs. Hollis said, with a stateliness 
 that rebuked his levity.
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 213 
 
 '^ I hope he has not much the matter with 
 him?" Clare inquired, kindly. 
 
 ^^ I hope not, either; bat he seems very 
 uncomfortable, and my utmost persuasions 
 could only obtain his promise to stay in bed 
 to-day, and take jlrs. HoUis's receipt, if she 
 would give it. You must know, Ealph has a 
 horror of a doctor, and puts implicit trust 
 in " — here Edward caught up the words 
 '^ old woman's remedies," which were on 
 his lips, and changed the expression to 
 ^^ simple.'' 
 
 '^ And there I agree with him, ]\Ir. 
 Leigh," pronounced Mrs. Hollis. ^^ But 
 what do you say to our news ? — I suppose 
 Miss Willoughby has told you the news ?" 
 
 ^'Xo, not yet," Clare said, smiling and 
 blushing a little. 
 
 '' Sir Hugh is about to lose one of his 
 daughters, not Miss Willoughby — which
 
 214 EDWARD AVILLOUGHBY. 
 
 perhaps you will think a singular arrange- 
 ment, being the eldest, and the best prepared 
 for the duties of matrimony — but his youngest 
 daughter. Miss Ellen ; and Colonel Ashton is 
 the happy man. Miss Willoughby's time 
 will no doubt come in due course." Mrs. 
 Hollis spoke with great dignity. She was 
 delighted at the event ; but was half disposed 
 to resent the choice of the unprepared 
 daughter. 
 
 Edward coloured a little, as Clare per- 
 ceived ; but he gave his congratulations with 
 calmness and warmth. 
 
 '' Yes, sir, you may congratulate me," was 
 Mrs. Hollis's reply to his words; ^^ it is, 
 indeed, an event which gives me unfeigned 
 satisfaction. This is a happy marriage, with 
 no trumpery in it." 
 
 " Solid and happy," Edward said seriously. 
 '' Miss Ellen Willoughby has made a wise
 
 EDWARD WILLOIJGHBY. 215 
 
 choicej showing herself more prepared than 
 you might think for the duties coming upon 
 her ; and for Colonel Ashton, surely he is 
 the happiest man in this world, except — " 
 he said no more. 
 
 ^^ Except yourself, I suppose, Mr. Leigh," 
 Mrs. Hollis observed, good-humoiu^edly ; for 
 Edward's request for her receipt, and his 
 just words on the announcement she had 
 made, had raised him some steps in her 
 mind. 
 
 " No," he said, hurriedly ; ^' I was not 
 speaking of myself." And unconsciously, with 
 a rising colour, his eyes darted an inquiry at 
 Clare. 
 
 She, as indeed was natural, misunder- 
 stood his look. She felt very sorry for him ; 
 but there was notliing to be said; — what could 
 she say ? 
 
 A moment afterwards Edward approached
 
 216 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 her ; and, as he held out his hand to wish 
 her good-bye, said, with a softness that 
 softened her more to him, — ''I can conceive 
 that this event must cause very mixed feel- 
 ings in your mind ; though I do most truly 
 congratulate you, therefore, I do it doubt- 
 ingly." 
 
 She answered him gratefully, and parted 
 from him with a feeling of interest beyond 
 what he had yet inspired. 
 
 HaK-an-hour afterwards Edward stood by 
 Ealph's bedside. ^' How are you, Ealph ?" 
 
 •^ Better, thank you ; except that my head 
 aches, and my pulse seems quick, and I have 
 rather an oppression on my chest." 
 
 ^^ Better! that is much worse. Well, 
 Ealph, you shall have your own way, and 
 Mrs. Hollis's receipt to-day : to-morrow, if 
 you are not better, I will have my way." 
 
 ''!N'ot a doctor," Ealph said resolutely.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 217 
 
 ^'Yes, a doctor," Edward replied, with 
 equal determination. 
 
 Ealph sighed, for he knew he was con- 
 quered. Edward sate down by the bedside, 
 then said, '' I heard a piece of news at 
 Middlethorpe which I think will interest 
 you. Miss Ellen Willoughby is going to be 
 married to Colonel Ashton." 
 
 '^ Oh !" Ealph said, uneasily turning a half 
 glance at Edward's face ; then meeting his 
 eye he looked hastily away. 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Ealph," cried Edward 
 laughing, ''is that all you say? surely my 
 news deserved something more that that." 
 
 " My dear fellow," Ealph said, still not 
 daring to look round, ''I don't know what to 
 say, I am so surprised, so perplexed, so truly 
 grieved." 
 
 '' Grieved ! Ealph ; what on earth do you 
 mean?" And Edward bent over him.
 
 218 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 '^ Don't, my dear Edward, pray don't — you 
 don't deceive me ; — I won't say anything if 
 you had rather not, only you know what I 
 feel." 
 
 " That I am sure, Ealph, I don't ; unless," 
 he added, suddenly colouring, " you have 
 supposed that I have lost my heart to Miss 
 Ellen Willoughby,— isthat it?" 
 
 Ealph nodded. 
 
 " 'Noy Ealph ; if it is true that I have lost 
 my heart, it is not to /^^r." 
 
 Ealph turned his head away to conceal 
 what came over it — a flush of pain, a shadow 
 of unspeakable sorrow; a fabric woven by his 
 unconscious imagination, was in one moment 
 revealed and dissolved. He had not known 
 till now how he had been shrining Clare in 
 his heart of hearts ; he could not speak, but 
 Edward was deep in thought and needed no 
 words.
 
 EDT\'ARD WILLOUGHBY. 219 
 
 Presently he said, " IS'o, Ealph, tliat sun- 
 rise in Wales is beautiful enougii, but no 
 man would have a human being if he could 
 win an angel : that is, some would as we see, 
 but I would not, I am too weak and erring 
 myself to do with less than an angel guide — 
 that guide I have found if only I can win 
 her." And he sighed deeply. 
 
 Ealph turned round and held out his hand 
 with a touching smile. " I understand now, 
 Edward ; and you are quite right ; and you 
 have my best wishes." 
 
 " I know that, dear Ealph," Edward said, 
 warmly pressing the hand; though, in truth, 
 he did not know how good the wishes 
 were. 
 
 " She is worth winning, Edward." And 
 with difficulty Ealph repressed a sigh. 
 
 *•' And needs worth to win her. Oh ! 
 Ealph, if I were but worthy of her !"
 
 220 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 " You must make yourself so," his friend 
 said simply. 
 
 ^^If I can — but can I? I am bold and 
 proud enough sometimes, but at others my 
 spirits sink. Colonel Ashton is a worthy 
 man — I feel that, and they feel it; but what 
 am I ?" 
 
 '• You have always said," Ealph said, with 
 earnest kindness, '' that if you once loved an 
 object worth striving for, there was no 
 degree of worth and goodness you could not 
 attain, and I think so too. You have an object 
 now, Edward— try for it, and you will attain." 
 
 ^'How ill you look, Ealph," Edward said, 
 as bending forward to catch his friend's 
 serious words, his eye fell on his face; ^' what 
 is the matter?" 
 
 ^ ^ My head aches, that is all. I think I 
 should be glad to rest.'' 
 
 '^ And here I sit talking over my affairs.
 
 EDWARD WTLLOUGHBT. 221 
 
 without a care for you. Oh ! man and his 
 selfishness ! Well, Ealph, you shall rest now, 
 while I prepare your potion for you ; and if 
 you are not better to-night, a doctor to- 
 morrow." 
 
 Ealph tried to smile, then thankfully 
 turned his head away from light and obser- 
 vation.
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 " Live for to-day, to-morrow's light 
 AYill bring to-morrow's cares to sight." 
 
 The Cheistian Year. 
 
 Edward's threatening was obliged to be 
 enforced — the parish apothecary was sent for 
 the next day. Mrs. HoUis's receipt was not, 
 however, to blame for this. She had never 
 pretended to minister to a mind diseased, 
 and there was sufficient mental disquiet in 
 Ealph's mind to counterbalance the soothing 
 effects of her prescription. He was well, how- 
 ever, at the end of five or six days ; and if he 
 rose from his temporary confinement a sadder-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 223 
 
 man than lie lay down, none knew it but himself. 
 When they were gone he ackno^vledged how 
 sweet and bright had been the visions which 
 like a faint breeze had been playing about 
 him for some weeks, and he had some 
 struggle to yield them up. But the week's 
 labour accomplished the task ; when he came 
 out again with his body restored, his mind had 
 as entirely separated itself from all thoughts 
 of Clare, as if they had never existed. It 
 may seem that it was an ignoble passion 
 which could thus be yielded up at the will of 
 a friend ; but Ealph thought otherwise, he 
 gave his will to the struggle and came off 
 conqueror, as, indeed, must be the case when 
 the will is perfectly sincere. 
 
 Edward refused to leave him, or to pay 
 any visits during his illness. They were not, 
 however, entirely cut off from the world, for 
 Mr. Grantley came often, and Sir Hugh once, 
 to see them.
 
 224 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 In the course of Sir Hugh's visit, which 
 was about the third day of Ealph's illness, 
 he surprised them by saying that Ellen's 
 marriage was to take place in three weeks. 
 
 "And why not?" he said, in answer to their 
 expressions of surprise ; " what is the use of 
 dawdling in a world where time goes fast 
 enough ? when a thing is to be let it be. 
 I'm no friend to your long courtships, Mr. 
 Caradoc ; they fret the body away, and as to 
 the mind, they make it of no more use than a 
 piece of packthread ! I'm no friend, let me 
 tell you, to excitements — another word for 
 madness. I like people to do their duty in 
 that state of life to which it has pleased God 
 to call them ; and when a young woman is 
 called to be a wife, why let her set about her 
 duty as fast as she can. I would have the 
 marriage next week, if Clare would let me." 
 
 " Miss Ellen Willoughby is young to begin 
 life's duties," Kalph said with a smile.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 225 
 
 *^ Xot a bit, Mr. Caradoc. She's got a good 
 husband, one of a thousand, to teach her; 
 and she'll do her duty as well as the 
 oldest of us. There will be nothing very- 
 tough, I fancy" — shaking his head — ^^ Ashton 
 would give her flowers to walk on if he 
 could.'' 
 
 When Ealph had recovered himself suffi- 
 ciently to leave the house, the young men 
 walked up to call at Middlethorpe. They 
 found Sir Hugh and his daughters, with 
 Colonel Ashton, in the garden. The weather, 
 this autumn, was singularly beautiful ; and it 
 was rarely that anybody was at home. Ealph 
 met Clare with perfect self-possession, 
 acknowledging to himself how idle he had 
 been in dreaming dreams, and asking him- 
 self, in the fulness of his humility, if such an 
 awkward fellow as he was had any right to 
 think of one, outwardly as well as inwardly, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 SO nearly akin to an angel. Occupied with 
 Ealph, Clare turned away lier eyes from the 
 meeting between Edward and her sister. 
 When they all stood together again, Edward 
 was, as she acknowledged, quite himself — 
 playful, easy, and unembarrassed. She felt 
 pleased and relieved, yet now and then in 
 his conversation she fancied she discovered 
 the traces of a late disappointment. 
 
 The young men had interrupted a discussion 
 that was taking place, and Sir Hugh shortly 
 recurred to it, desiring Clare to explain the 
 subject under review while he went to speak 
 to a person on business. She did so, stating 
 simply that Sir Hugh wished to give a ball, 
 and asking their opinions on the subject, 
 
 " A ball ! " Edward exclaimed discontent- 
 edly ; '^ oh ! not a ball." 
 
 ^^Why not?" Clare said, smiling at his tone. 
 
 '^ I should as soon have expected Adam to
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 227 
 
 give a ball in Paradise," he said; — ^^ a ball at 
 Middlethorpe ! I could not stay to see such, 
 desecration." 
 
 " Anything — that is any innocent thing 
 — that makes people happy is a good thing, 
 Edward," Ealph said with warmth ; ^^ and as a 
 ball often does make young people happy, a 
 ball is a good thing." 
 
 ^^ My dear Ealph,'' he replied a little im- 
 patiently, " I did not mean to enter into a 
 philosophical examination of a ball. Every- 
 thing is good in its place ; but I cannot bring 
 myself to think of the quietness of Middle- 
 thorpe disturbed with the world's vanities. 
 It pleased me to think that there was a spot 
 of ground TV"hcre they had never penetrated, 
 and some human beings that had never 
 wished for them." 
 
 "• This is one of Edward's monomanias," 
 
 q2
 
 228 EDWAED WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 Ealph said, almost apologizing for his friend ; 
 *4t is no use to argue with him now." 
 
 " I am afraid I and Mr. Leigh do not agree 
 very often," Colonel Ashton observed — some 
 old jealousy causing the observation, for, in 
 fact, they had seldom had reason to agree or 
 disagree; — "but I confess I have a feeling 
 with him now. There are green and shady 
 places in the world, where flowers grow, 
 which have a something garden flowers do 
 not possess." He looked right before him 
 while he spoke, thinking that he thereby 
 avoided any application to his own Ellen. 
 *' Perhaps I do not make my meaning very 
 clear as regards this ball ; but, if I mean what 
 Mr. Leigh means, he will understand me." 
 
 "I do," Edward said eagerly ; " and thank 
 you as I always thank a person who under- 
 stands me."
 
 EDWARD WILLOTTGHBT. 229 
 
 ''Then the ball is not to be," Ellen said, 
 laughing; ''Mr. Leigh has decided against 
 it." 
 
 "Do yod wish to have one?" he asked, 
 turning quickly towards her. 
 
 "IN"©, not the least — that is — not now; — 
 except that papa seems to have set his heart 
 upon it. Clare and I were arguing agamst 
 it when you came." 
 
 "Well," asked Sir Hugh, returning, "what 
 have you decided ? " He looked at Edward 
 as being the youngest and the most hopeful. 
 "My decision," Edward said, smiling, "is 
 against a ball; but Ealph desires to dance." 
 "Xo, my dear Edward," Ealph remon- 
 strated gravely; " I never do dance, and 
 never cared about it. I only speak because 
 I don't like things that give happiness to be 
 run down. I should be better pleased 
 without one."
 
 230 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 *^ Everybody is against you, papa, I am 
 afraid," Clare said, smiliog; ^^ even Mr. 
 Caradoc only likes balls in the abstract." 
 
 ^^It's a A'ery remarkable thing," Sir Hugh 
 said ponderingly, " but if an old man wants 
 to give pleasure, the young, now-a-days, are 
 sm^e to set themselves against it. I can't 
 understand it. There must be something 
 wrong at the bottom." 
 
 " So far as Ealph and I are concerned," 
 Edward remarked, "we ought to be excused 
 from such a reproach. Our dancing days 
 are surely over." 
 
 "Why, how old may you be, Mr. Leigh ?" 
 Sir Hugh asked sharply, for nothing pro- 
 voked him more than affectation of age. 
 
 "I shall be eight-and-twenty next month, 
 and Ealph is older." 
 
 "I don't believe it," Sir Hugh said; 
 " you look nothing more than a boy. Where
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGIIEY. 231 
 
 is the register of your birth and bap- 
 tism?" 
 
 '^ I don't feel like a boy," Edward said, 
 
 colouring, as he evaded Sir Hugh's keen, 
 
 questioning glance. 
 
 It had been, however, a mere random 
 
 question; and Sir Hugh, recalled by a remark 
 
 of Clare's, returned to his subject. 
 
 ^^ Well, my love, do just as you please," 
 
 Sir Hugh answered. '' It would be a new 
 thing to force pleasure down the tln'oat like 
 physic. Only strike out some other plan for 
 giving due honour to this marriage. I think 
 a man should show his joy, when he feels it 
 in the bottom of his heart." He stretched 
 out his hand with a cordial smile to Colonel 
 Ashton. 
 
 Colonel Ashton shook it with warmth, 
 without otherwise expressing his pleasui-e in 
 Sir Hugh's words. He then said, ^^ I think,
 
 JO J EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 Sir Hugh, on these occasions it is better to 
 confine the festivities to those who can 
 thoroughly enjoy them. It has been my 
 opinion all along, though I would not bring 
 forward my own sober thoughts while there 
 was a chance of theii* opposing the gayer 
 wishes of younger minds. Since we all 
 agree, I confess it seems to me more ad- 
 visable to leave the music and dancing to 
 the poor;" — in a lower voice he added, to Sir 
 Hugh — ^^ they have no drawbacks to their 
 pleasure, I fear," and he glanced at Ellen 
 and Clare: ^Hhere may be some here." 
 
 "You're right, Ashton; and so let it bo, 
 then, w^ith all my heart. If some are too 
 old, and some are too sober, to dance, let the 
 poor dance double measure. Come along, 
 and give me your opinion as to the power of 
 turning my big bam into a ball-room. I 
 must be content to give a humdrum dinner
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 233 
 
 to my rich neighbours, and we'll treat them 
 to festivities another time." 
 
 So the point was settled ; and a few days 
 before the marriage the rural festivities took 
 place, with universal satisfaction. The 
 humdrum dinner was appointed for the 
 evening of the wedding-day, in order that 
 some old fiiends of Sir Hugh's, who were 
 coming from a distance, might be present. 
 
 From the date of the announcement of 
 Ellen's marriage, Sir Hugh was too much 
 occupied with private cares to attend upon 
 the sports, or seek, with the same eagerness 
 as before, the society of his new friends. 
 He was, however, too Avell pleased with 
 them to be capable of neglect, and constantly 
 invited them to spend the evening at Middlc- 
 thorpe, or to join him and his daughters in 
 their long walks. 
 
 On these occasions, Ellen being engrossed
 
 234 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 by Colonel Ashton, and Ealph conscientiously- 
 devoting himself to Sir Hugh, Edward and 
 Clare were thrown together as they had not 
 hitherto been, and they became great friends — 
 great friends only. The intercourse between 
 them was calm — very calm ; for Edward re- 
 gulated his behaviour by that of Clare, care- 
 fully watching himself, lest one word or look 
 should betray him before his time was come. 
 At fii'st, her frankness and ease, and the 
 sisterly kindness with which, in consideration 
 of his disappointment, she could not help treat- 
 ing him, pleased him. It won her to greater 
 freedom ; it enabled him to draw from her her 
 feelings and opinions, as otherwise, perhaps, 
 he might not have done ; but very soon that 
 which had pleased at fii'st began to pain and 
 annoy him. When, day by day, she met 
 him with the same fearless frankness, happy 
 in herself, happy in her home, happy in her
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 235 
 
 entire devotion to her father, his spirits began 
 to be affected by it. Hopelessness began to 
 creep over him ; he dared not make a step 
 forward, and yet he was for ever on the brink 
 of that step, which, if not successful, 
 must build a barrier between them. He 
 loved her in her calmness ; it exercised over 
 him a species of fascination, and yet he longed 
 as never in life he had longed before, to be 
 the one to ruffle the still lake of her heart, 
 to sound its depths, to call forth the force of 
 her affections, to develop all the varied 
 powers of her dormant character. 
 
 ^^ Will you try your fortune ?" he said to 
 her one day, as in returning from a walk they 
 passed over one of the bridges, already men- 
 tioned as giving a peculiar character to the 
 garden. 
 
 " How?" she asked, stopping and smiling. 
 
 He spoke with some eagerness and inte-
 
 236 EDWARD WILLOUGIIBY. 
 
 rest ; explaining that it was by throwing a 
 flower on one side of the bridge, and watch- 
 ing its fortunes as it issued on the other. 
 " You must not expect any definite know- 
 ledge, but this will tell you what your course 
 in general will be ; whether rough or smooth ; 
 or else it will prepare you for success or 
 disappointment in any particular business 
 you may have in hand. You laugh ; but we 
 used to do it gravely enough at school. Will 
 you tr}' ?" 
 
 She readily consented, but laughing all the 
 while at his seriousness. 
 
 He took two flowers from his button-hole, 
 observing, " This white one is yours ;" and, 
 with a little hesitation, " this scarlet one shall 
 be mine, li^ow let us go to the other side." 
 He threw the flowers into the stream toge- 
 ther, and with something of childish eager- 
 ness hurried to the opposite side to watch 
 the result of the trial.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 237 
 
 The white geranium, without stop or im- 
 pediment, floated calmly down the stream; 
 the other had scarcely appeared before it 
 separated from its companion, and drifting 
 to the side, became entangled in weeds. Ed- 
 ward's countenance amused Clare. 
 
 ^* See the fruits of trying one's fortune," 
 she said, laughing ; ^' my course so even that 
 it may be called monotonous, and yours, even 
 at the outset, encompassed with difficulty." 
 
 " Ah ! but the difficulties are overcome," 
 Edward cried, triumphantly, as the motion 
 of the rapid stream disentangled his flower, 
 and carried it swiftly out of sight. 
 
 ^' And now, are you happier?" she said 
 playfully. 
 
 '' Have you really no wish to know your 
 destiny ?" was Edward's reply. 
 
 '' Xot only no wish," she said decidedly, 
 *^ but I would not know it if I might. '^
 
 238 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 '^ You cannot, then, have any strong wish — 
 anything you care to see accomplished." 
 
 ^' I suppose I might be glad to know that 
 any wish I had might be granted in time ; 
 any hope fulfilled : but, supposing it was not 
 to be fulfilled— what then? Would it not 
 sadden life to have that knowledge ? It is 
 better to wait ; and surely bearable, even 
 if the wish is a strong one — for hope is plea- 
 sant." 
 
 '' For those who can wait," Edward said, 
 with vehemence. *' I cannot. I hope I can 
 bear anything that man can bear ; but I can- 
 not bear suspense." 
 
 ^^ But you are speaking of very strong 
 wishes indeed," she said, with some surprise, 
 and watching his countenance with some 
 interest — " things really affecting youi' peace 
 and happiness." 
 
 He looked at her, saw her utter uncon-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 239 
 
 sciousness, and with a bitter feeliii": only 
 replied, ^^ Perhaps I am,'' 
 
 After a moment's silence Clare moved from 
 where they stood to join the others. Edward 
 followed her, and as they walked along, 
 made another attempt to search the secrets 
 of her heart. '^ You called the even course 
 of your life monotonous. It would not, then, 
 gratify you to lead for ever as calm a life as 
 you do now ?" 
 
 She seemed struck by the question, and 
 pondered on it for a moment. "Yes," she 
 then replied, " I think I should. What 
 seems monotonous to others is not so to one- 
 self. But the fact is," she added, " I do not 
 wish to look forward at all ; I have a dread 
 of it. Why should we not be happy in the 
 present, while we may and can ? " 
 
 "But why look forward with dread? 
 What is there in the future for you to 
 dread?"
 
 240 EDWAKD "WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 ^^Who can think of what life is, and on 
 what a thread one's whole happiness may 
 hang, and do otherwise than dread the 
 future ? I would rather obey the most mer- 
 ciful command ever given — ^ Take no thought 
 for the morrow.' " 
 
 As Clare spoke, her countenance changed, 
 and her voice had an agitated tone Edward 
 had never heard there before. He seemed 
 to see something of the depths he had de- 
 sired to search ; but what thought was there 
 of him ? what share had he in the vague ter- 
 rors that thus made her shudder ? He knew 
 he had none. He said nothing, but walked 
 gloomily on. 
 
 After a moment, Clare said playfully, 
 ^'And now will vou consent to leave the 
 future alone, for me, and, if I may give you 
 my advice, for yourself also ? except," she 
 added, with great kindness, ^' that I am sure 
 T wish you a happy futui^e, and that all your
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 24l 
 
 future wislies may be granted.'^ And leaving 
 his side, she hurried forward to her father, 
 to relieve him of an umbrella, which a few 
 threatening clouds had compelled him to 
 carry. 
 
 Edward parted from her with gnawing 
 and bitter feelings. The love which, in its 
 early days of fancy, had excited him to light- 
 ness and brightness, now changed its nature, 
 and became — 
 
 ''A pining anguish, fretting at the heart." 
 
 IsoTLQ more than Edward required the in- 
 junction of the Apostle — '^ Keep yourselves 
 from idols." His mind, vivid in its concep- 
 tions, and tenacious in its grasp, yielded 
 itself without a struggle to the domination 
 of a present feeling. His life had been a 
 series of idolatries; and though they had 
 proved but broken reeds, though in their 
 
 YOL. I. E
 
 242 EDWARD WILLOTJGHBY. 
 
 failure Ms mind had become embittered, he 
 was still undisciplined and untaught, ready, 
 as before, to yield himself to the power of 
 passion, and the excitement of the day. 
 
 The effect of his present restless and un- 
 certain state of mind was to render him a 
 gloomy companion. In company he exerted 
 himself, but at home was silent or irritable. 
 Ealph, with his usual unselfishness, bore 
 with this change of temper. He guessed the 
 state of Edward's mind, and knew by expe- 
 rience something of the nature of his strug- 
 gles. Instead of remonstrances, therefore, 
 or impatience, he watched only for opportu- 
 nities to forward his wishes or to administer 
 relief.
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 " * Then let us try, and our endeavours blend,' 
 I said, ' to bring these quarrels to an end.' " 
 
 Crabbe. 
 
 The nature and arrangements of Sir 
 Hugh's property had made it necessary to 
 apply to Edward Willoughby's lawyer on 
 certain points connected with the marriage 
 settlement. This was done by Sir Hugh 
 sorely against the grain ; but to necessity he 
 submitted at all times like a man. "When 
 Clare heard of the correspondence that had 
 taken place, she revolved in her mind the 
 possibility of turning it to some good account. 
 A request had been made by Sii* Hugh, and 
 
 R 2
 
 244 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 readily granted. This, as it seemed to her, 
 was an opening for reconciliation. 
 
 She pondered much and for many days on 
 this subject, and when her mind was made 
 up, proceeded to her father's room with her 
 request. She went with a beating heart, 
 for she knew her task was a difficult one, 
 and that it was impossible to guess in what 
 manner it might affect Sir Hugh ; but she 
 had a brave spirit when anything like duty 
 urged her on. 
 
 Her interest in the cause made her speak 
 well, and after setting forth simply the evils 
 of continued enmity, she made her request 
 that her sister's marriage should become the 
 occasion of reconciliation with one who 
 stood to her father in the place of a son. 
 
 Sir Hugh was startled at the boldness of 
 the petition ; but as if some such thought 
 had been stirred and already debated in his
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 245 
 
 own mind, he answered it without excite- 
 ment and with unusual seriousness. 
 
 While he lived, Middlethorpe should be 
 guarded from the pollution of Edward's 
 presence; after his death all was in the 
 hands of God. ^' I may be ^wTong, Clare," 
 he said, ^^ I do not pretend to be infallible ; 
 but every man must act as best he can, 
 according to his conscience; and my con- 
 science commands me to show to all who 
 look to me for guidance, that I condemn 
 wickedness, whether of conduct or opinion, 
 though in my own relation. If Edward 
 should repent, it would be another matter ; 
 none would be better pleased than I." 
 
 '^ Perhaps he does," Clare said, with a 
 kind of passion in her voice; '' or perhaj)s 
 he would, if any hand were stretched out to 
 help him. Is it kind, is it right to make 
 no effort to recal him to himself?"
 
 246 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 " If I were an old man alone, my darling/' 
 Sir Hugh said kindly, ^' perhaps I should 
 feel as you do, perhaps I should have Ed- 
 ward here and try my hand on him ; but I am 
 a father, and a master, and a landlord — a 
 kind of priest,'' — and he drew himself up 
 with dignity — ^^ among my people; and I 
 will show by my conduct what is my sense 
 of right and wrong. Let it be. If I hear of 
 Edward repenting and doing his duty, be 
 sure I should be as ready as you are to 
 stretch out my hand to him. I am not angry, 
 ]ny love, but 1 am resolved ; and you must 
 believe that I am a better judge in this 
 matter than a young thing like you can be." 
 
 Clare could not gainsay her father's argu- 
 ments, yet she felt that means there must 
 ])e of reaching and endeavouring to influence 
 even those whose ways conscience might 
 command you to condemn.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 247 
 
 She was found in mucli regret and disap- 
 pointment by ]Mr. Grantley; and to him, 
 her o\Yn peculiar friend and counsellor, she 
 spoke of what was in her mind. '' And yet," 
 she concluded, ^' perhaps, after all, I am 
 wrong. Why is it that I take so great an 
 interest in my cousin?'' 
 
 " Because you are a little enthusiastic 
 yourself, my dear child, and soft-hearted into 
 the bargain. I don't blame you; I think, 
 on the contrary, you have great right on 
 your side. Let the subject rest for the pre- 
 seot ; at some future time I will second your 
 efforts. I have been thinking much of your 
 ccusin of ]ate ; and a few days ago, I wrote 
 to a friend in London, to beg him to make 
 some inquiries regarding his present course 
 of life and conduct : he promised to do so. If 
 any good appears, anything hopeful, I will 
 go to Sir Hugh, and tell him my mind.''
 
 248 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 As he returned home, Mr. Grantley met 
 Ealph ; and the subject of his conversation 
 with Clare being still in his mind, he began 
 to make inquiries regarding Edward Wil- 
 loughby — whether he knew him, and what he 
 knew, and if he knew what he was now doing. 
 
 Ealph answered as best he could with 
 truth, but vaguely and unsatisfactorily ; and 
 to escape from Mr. Grantley' s perplexing 
 questions, inquired, in return, into their 
 cause. Mr. Grantley mentioned what had 
 taken place at Middlethorpe ; adding, ^^ Per- 
 haps, I am indiscreet in saying this : but, 
 somehow or other, Mr. Caradoc, I believe 
 there is nothing I would not and might not 
 safely entrust to you.'' 
 
 He was right ; Ralph was discretion itself 
 — but on this occasion he thought it no 
 lack of discretion to report to Edward intel- 
 ligence so interesting to him. Happy to
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 249 
 
 have sonietliing cheering to tell, lie went 
 home with his report, and great was his sur- 
 prise and disappointment at the indifference 
 with which it was received. 
 
 ^' Well, Ealph, but what do I care for 
 him ?'^ was his reply to his friend's informa- 
 tion. 
 
 " For whom?" was Ealph's natural ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " That Edward Willoughby you have been 
 talking about ! " 
 
 Ealph stared, till Edward burst out 
 laughing. In a moment, however, he was 
 grave again, and said very seriously, ^^ My 
 only feeling for that man is, that he stands 
 between me and my hopes. Her mind is so 
 full of him, that I believe she has no place 
 to admit another. What object would it be 
 to me, that she should kindly receive me as 
 her cousin, when, as myself^ I have failed
 
 250 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 to win her love? Ko, Ealph, her love I 
 must have as I now am ; I care for nothing 
 besides." 
 
 Ealph drew a chair to the window where 
 Edward was sitting, and after considering 
 the matter for some moments said, ^^ This is 
 nothing but madness, Edward ; do not throw 
 away a chance of happiness for a folly un- 
 worthy of you. I came home determined 
 to press you to reveal yourself; you have 
 her on your side, you will have Mr. 
 Grantley's best wishes and best endeavours. 
 Surely these two can influence Sir Hugh, — 
 it seems, besides, a case of necessity. Mr. 
 Grantley is making inquiries. If you do 
 not reveal yourself, you will be discovered, 
 and then " 
 
 *'I defy him to discover me," Edward 
 said decidedly ; " my plans are too well laid 
 to be baffled by any inquiries short of a
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 251 
 
 year's search. You little know me if you 
 think 1 have left loop-holes to spy at me." 
 
 ^^ A secret, my dear fellow, is never safe ; 
 and what I wish to impress upon you is that 
 a discovery must add considerably to our dif- 
 ficulties. I don't know how you feel, Ed- 
 ward, but when Sir Hugh asked me to be 
 his daughter's trustee, I felt nothing better 
 than an impostor, and I am sui-e I can truly 
 say I have not had a good night's rest since 
 I heard of it." 
 
 Edward stretched out his hand to Ealph. 
 It was a common, simple action with him, 
 marking his moments of feeling and kindness. 
 ^' Bear with me, Ealph," he said; " you have 
 done so much for me that I do not even apo- 
 logize for asking you to do more. I would 
 attend to your request if I could. I will 
 attend to it as soon as I can ; but this point 
 is not an indifferent one. Give me a few days
 
 252 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 more and then I will come to a decision. For 
 yourself yon need have no fear; yon are one 
 who can walk unharmed in the fire of suspi- 
 cion, nothing can touch the excellence of 
 youi* character. This is no compliment; you 
 must bear with me, then." 
 
 Ealph sighed, smiled, and yielded. 
 
 '' What shall you do next, Edward?" was 
 his question, after a moment's thought." 
 
 " How, in what way ?" 
 
 '^ As regards her^ my dear fellow, I have 
 been wishing to speak to you on this point 
 for some days." 
 
 "Then speak, Ralph: what would you 
 have me do ?" 
 
 '^ I would have you come forward a little 
 more. Forgive me, Edward, but I think you 
 take it too coldly." 
 
 " Coldly," and Edward laid his burning 
 hand on his friend's, for a moment.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 253 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Edward ; I do not 
 mean in yourself. I believe I can guess 
 pretty well what you feel here," and with a 
 half smile, not without sadness, he touched 
 his heart ; ^' but I mean you show nothing ; 
 you seem cold and careless ; even I, who 
 know what you feel only sometimes from your 
 manner, can discover it." 
 
 With one of Edward's sudden changes of 
 tone and feeling, he now touched Ealph's 
 shoulder and said mirthfully, " How would 
 you set about the business of love-making ? 
 Come, Ealph, you are older than I am — give 
 me a lesson." 
 
 '^ I would set about it seriously," his friend 
 replied with gravity. ^' I would show what 
 I wished and that all my heart was in it.'' 
 
 " But, Ealph, if you are too serious, 
 you make a bugbear of yourself, and fear 
 scares away love. All good things grow
 
 254 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 slowly. I never expected to inspire a 
 sudden passion — I never wished it — I do not 
 admire the characters that feel those sudden 
 passions for strangers. This is very unro- 
 mantic, Ealph, but true. I like to read 
 about Juliet, but I never should have been 
 in love with her. That there are men 
 worthy of such passions I do not deny; but I 
 know I am not one of them ; if there is any- 
 thing worth loving in me it lies deep." 
 
 '^ True, Edward ; but still there is a me- 
 dium — two months is a long time." And he 
 shook his head with the conscious thought, 
 how needlessly long for him. 
 
 " And have I made no use of them ?" Ed- 
 ward asked with a lightness, under which in 
 vain he endeavoured to mask his intense 
 anxiety. 
 
 Ealph read the anxiety, but nothing ever 
 led him a step beyond the truth. Clare's ease
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 255 
 
 of manner seemed to him a decided bar to Ed- 
 ward's hopes. He spoke, however, as kindly 
 and hopefully as he could. ^*I can't very 
 well answer you, Edward. Miss Willoughby 
 likes you, I am sure ; but how much is hard 
 to tell. All I am certain of is, that she 
 does not understand what you feel ; and, as 
 she is not a Juliet, I think she may require to 
 see that before she feels herself. Some peo- 
 ple, you know, have their hearts outside, and 
 these are more easily caught ; others hide 
 them within, and, I agree with you, those 
 are the hearts I would care to have. You 
 must dive down before you can reach 
 them." 
 
 Edward listened without hearing. He 
 was deep in thought. At last he said, ^^ Well, 
 Ealph, perhaps you are right. It must be 
 done. I will make the plunge ; but I am a 
 coward,'' he added, shuddering; ^'I dread
 
 256 EDWAUD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 it. Oh ! Ealph, if I fail here I am a bank- 
 rupt indeed !" 
 
 He did not wait for reply or sympathy, 
 but jumped out of the low window and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 * # * * 
 
 It so ha]3pened that Edward saw Clare no 
 more till the day before her sister's marriage. 
 He went twice to Middlethorpe ; but she 
 had accompanied her sister to pay some fare- 
 well visits in the neighbourhood, and was not 
 to be seen. 
 
 The afternoon before the wedding-day 
 Ealph was sent for by Sir Hugh to make 
 some signatures to the marriage settlement, 
 and Edward went to Middlethorpe with him. 
 He had little expectation of seeing Clare 
 alone, and perhaps that confidence made him 
 repeat to Ealph his resolution to make the 
 plunge ; meaning thereby not the taking of
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 257 
 
 any decided step, but simply an endeavour 
 to open her eyes as to his wishes. 
 
 On entering the garden by the privileged 
 way, they found all the family assembled there 
 with the exception of Sir Hugh. It was now 
 late in the autumn, but the weather was still 
 summer-like, and heliotrope and geraniums 
 were. brightening the beds. Mrs. HoUis .^ate 
 working on the bank beside the stream, and 
 on the terrace-walk beyond, Colonel Ashton 
 was dravring, with the two sisters behind 
 him. He was making a sketch of the house 
 for his betrothed; and she and Clare, no 
 artists themselves, were watching with 
 interest his rough but effective strokes. 
 
 Ealph proceeded to the library according 
 to appointment ; Edward crossed the garden 
 to join the group on the terrace. 
 
 As he approached, Colonel Ashton looked 
 up from his drawing with a smile, and said, 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 EDWABD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 '' Don't think me fidgety, Ellen ; but if Mr. 
 Leigh is to be a spectator I shall never have 
 done. Save me from him." 
 
 Clare smiled, and promising to take charge 
 of Edward, went to meet him. 
 
 She told him her errand with the ease and 
 fi'eedom their acquaintance warranted, and 
 invited him, till the sketch should be finished, 
 to accompany her to the front of the house. 
 The serv^ants had ornamented the old arch- 
 way with bright autumnal flowers ; and 
 though there was something incongruous in 
 the decorations, the care and taste exhibited 
 was pleasing, and the feelings which had 
 excited it still more so. 
 
 Edward consented, and found himself with 
 her alone ; but the resolutions he had formed, 
 and the promises he had made, faded away. 
 Xever had her manner been more unem- 
 barrassed — never more like indifference. ^' If
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 259 
 
 I startle her now," he thought, ^' with my 
 wild words, this perhaps will be our last 
 meeting." And his decision was that, come 
 what might, Ealph must wait. 
 
 His hopeless thoughts made him silent 
 and gloomy. Clare scarcely observed that it 
 was so. She was as silent as he. The day 
 was sad to her, and had been passed in 
 painful efforts to be cheerful, for her father 
 and Ellen's sake. The departure of her only 
 sister was no light trial. She felt grateful 
 for the relief which Edward's society afforded. 
 With him there was no need for exertion. 
 
 Before they reached the proper point for 
 observation, Edward became conscious of the 
 silence of his companion. He shook off his 
 o\\Ti thoughts and watched her. Her coun- 
 tenance was easily read. 
 
 ^' That makes you melancholy to look at," 
 
 he observed kindly, as at length they stood 
 
 before the arch. 
 
 8 2
 
 260 EDWAIiD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 She smiled, and roused herself. " A little 
 melancholy, I confess," she replied, '^ but 
 not unhappy. I should be very ungrateful 
 if I allowed it to make me unhappy.'' 
 
 " We cannot always help such ingrati- 
 tude." 
 
 "I am not sure about that," she said 
 playfully. ^' I think we can help a great 
 many more things than we are disposed to 
 allow ; but is not this prettily done ? Papa 
 is so pleased with it." 
 
 *^It is at least prettily intended," Edward 
 said with kindness. ^' One reads in it attach- 
 ment, and gratitude, and many pleasant 
 feelings." He paused a m^oment, then added, 
 not without excitement, ^^ How happy Mid- 
 dlethorpe is !" 
 
 Clare smiled at the abrupt exclamation. 
 
 " You have always lived here : you can 
 hardly fancy how it affects one accustomed 
 to other scenes. It is like the abode of peace.
 
 HI) WARD WILLOUGHBY. 261 
 
 T fi.nl myself continually thinking of Milton's 
 description of Satan's fi.rst view of Paradise." 
 
 "You can hardly say too much in its 
 praise for me," Clare said warmly; " but I 
 know I am not a fair judge. I am prejudiced." 
 
 "You are very fond of it, then ?" he in- 
 quired, fixing his eyes upon her, yet 
 speaking quietly. " You would never leave 
 it if you could ?" 
 
 " Pray do not speak of the future," she 
 said, in the hurried tone in which she had 
 once before answered his questions. This 
 was one he had no right to ask, and she felt 
 it ; but anger was not the sensation it caused. 
 
 1^0 thought of ki77i in that hurried tone, 
 in that unwillingness to look on. So Edward 
 saw, and he said with bitterness, " I beg 
 your pardon for forcing your eyes in that 
 direction ; the fault is in mine ; they will 
 look that way, though they do not see much 
 to attract them there."
 
 262 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^'I don't know that it is a fault," Clare 
 said, speaking kindly to the disappointment 
 evident in his speech ; "- but I am sure that 
 it is a misery. I think, too,'' she continued, 
 smiling, '^that if your fault in that way is 
 very great, you are mistaken when you think 
 Middlethorpe would suit your taste." 
 
 "How so?" he said, with anxiety in his 
 tone. 
 
 " It is so quiet and monotonous," she re- 
 plied. " Perfectly happy to those who have 
 contented minds, but I can fancy driving to 
 madness those whose wishes are all in the 
 future. I don't think a quiet life is good for 
 restless spirits." 
 
 " Perhaps not if their wishes are un- 
 granted; but how — " and here Edward's voice 
 changed, and a smile of singular sweetness 
 flitted over his face — '' how would it be with 
 wishes gained ?" 
 
 His manner was rarely soft : it was ex-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 263 
 
 citable, passionate, sportive, and resolute by 
 turns, but only on rare occasions gentle. 
 This gave to his moments of softness a 
 peculiar and strange attraction. There was 
 something in the softness of this moment 
 which affected Clare as if by magic — in some 
 unaccountable way touched and startled her 
 — ^brought a pulse to her heart and a glow to 
 her cheek. 
 
 ^'I cannot tell," she replied, scarcely 
 knowing what she said. 
 
 In an instant she had recovered herself 
 and driven away the strangeness of the sen- 
 sation ; but feeling suddenly uncomfortable 
 and embarrassed, she observed that Colonel 
 Ashton must now be ready and prepared to 
 return. 
 
 They walked back in silence. The evening 
 was very still — ^not a sound to be heard but 
 Ellen's voice in the distance, and the soft
 
 264 EDWARD WILLOIIGHBY. 
 
 fall of the never-ceasing waters. Clare felt 
 the stillness, but instead of calming, it agi- 
 tated her. Perhaps with strange nnconscious 
 sympathy she felt the beating heart beside 
 her. Edward was in a turmoil of contending 
 feelings. He had seen the effect of his words, 
 and yet doubted in the intensity of the inte- 
 rest the powers of his perception. One 
 moment something impelled him on, assur- 
 ing him of success ; the next, a cold touch 
 seemed to withhold him, warning that disap- 
 pointment was at hand. 
 
 While still at a distance from the terrace, 
 and while yet undecided what course to 
 pursue, his indecision was ended by a move- 
 ment of his companion. Instead of pursuing 
 her way around the garden and over the 
 bridge, which was a walk of some length, Clare 
 suddenly crossed the grass to the spot where 
 Mrs. Hollis was sitting. It was in obedience
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 265 
 
 to some unacknowledged desire for other 
 company — some feeling of embarrassment 
 and discomfort in Edward's presence. 
 
 The protection of ^Irs. Hollis's company 
 was no sooner felt than Clare's uneasiness 
 vanished, and sitting down beside her on the 
 bench she occupied, she began to talk as 
 usual. 
 
 Edward composed himself. He felt sad 
 and depressed, and knew not whether to be 
 relieved or troubled that his plunge had been 
 prevented. He joined, however, in conver- 
 sation with Mrs. HoUis on the beauty of the 
 day and the singular mildness of the season, 
 and other topics that arose naturally and 
 without thought. 
 
 At one moment, from a casual remark 
 from one of the party, all eyes were turned 
 towards the spot where Ellen still stood by 
 Colonel Ashton's side.
 
 266 EDWARD WILLOUGIIBY. 
 
 ** You are now so accustomed to that idea," 
 Edward said to Clare, directing his finger 
 towards them, '' that I have no doubt you 
 almost forget your surprise when the first 
 announcement of the marriage was made." 
 
 ^'Yes," she said, smiling; ^' I can hardly 
 understand now how I came to be sur- 
 prised." 
 
 *^I could never understand it," Edward 
 observed ; ^^ I saw what would shortly take 
 place the very first night I came to Middle- 
 thorpe." 
 
 " Did you ?" Clare said, surprised into an 
 expression of astonishment. 
 
 " I did indeed. Do you doubt me ?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" and she shook her head : but 
 though she didnot doubt, her surprise was great. 
 
 ^' I see you do not quite believe me," he 
 continued, smiling. ^' Why should it sur- 
 prise you that I have the use of my eyes."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGIIBY. 267 
 
 '^ I believe, Mr. Leigh," Mrs. Hollis said, 
 looking up from her work, '' if we had 
 thought of anybody for Miss Ellen, it would 
 have been yourself sooner than Colonel 
 Ashton. We were not likely to take such 
 liberties with a man of his years and 
 experience." 
 
 " Did ^ou think that ?" Edward said, 
 turning suddenly to Clare, and fixing an 
 intent and searching gaze on her face. 
 
 She blushed deeply, and turned away her 
 head. 
 
 He stood silent and dejected. If such had 
 been her expectation, what hope was there 
 for him. Yet hope refused to die. From 
 its very destruction it gathered new life. 
 
 '' Should you have liked to have me for 
 Miss Ellen's busband," he inquired of Mrs. 
 Hollis lightly, and yet agitatedly.
 
 2G8 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 '' Indeed, Mr. Leigh," was her dry reply, 
 ^^I never trouble myself to think of impos- 
 sibilities." 
 
 He smiled and looked at Clare ; and there 
 was something nervous and troubled in the 
 smile that answered him that made his heart 
 bound within him. A moment afterwards 
 they were joined by Sir Hugh, with Ealph 
 and Mr. Grantley ; and nothing more passed 
 between them. 
 
 Ellen meanwhile standing by Colonel Ashton 
 had followed them with her eyes as they went 
 on their way and returned. She had never 
 ceased to watch Edward since the night of 
 her hasty remark ; but it was not always that 
 she was convinced of the truth of her sudden 
 discovery. At the moment of their reappear- 
 ing from the other side of the house and as they 
 crossed the garden towards Mrs. Hollis, she
 
 EDWAHD WILLOUGIIBY. 269 
 
 said suddenly to her companion, "Xow look, 
 do look at Clare and Mr. Leigh. What do 
 you think now of what I said ? '* 
 
 Colonel Ashton raised his eyes from the 
 drawing and obediently looked in the direc- 
 tion she desired. '^ Well, Ellen," he said, '' I 
 don't see much ; but then I am not very dis- 
 cerning. What do you see ? " 
 
 '' I don't know," she replied; "Twish I 
 did know, only I think certainly not indiffe- 
 rence. Mr. Leigh is so strange, he puzzles 
 me." 
 
 "What do you wish ? " he inquired, devot- 
 ing himself again to his drawing. " If Mr. 
 Leigh is in love with Clare, would it please 
 you ? " 
 
 " I don't know," she said again. " What do 
 you think ? — is he worthy of her ? " 
 
 " I3y no means," was the hasty reply. 
 
 **' But then, perhaps, nobody is."
 
 270 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 ^'That I think likely enough; but there 
 may be more worthy than he." 
 
 ^' I like Mr. Leigh," Ellen said; ^'I dare 
 say, indeed I see, myself, that he has a 
 thousand faults ; but I like him — he interests 
 me — he is so unlike eyerybody else I ever 
 saw." 
 
 " Edward Leigh certainly makes no con- 
 cealment of his faults," Colonel Ashton said 
 seriously ; '^ they are visible to every eye. I 
 don't say this unkindly, for I feel like you 
 that there is much to interest in him, but his 
 faidts are such as I think would fail to cause 
 a happy marriage. He has, for instance, a 
 restless, dissatisfied nature. How would 
 that suit your sister? " 
 
 ^'I think she would cure it," Ellen said, 
 smiling. ^' I can fancy that a person may 
 very well be restless and unquiet when they 
 are doubtful of gaining what they wish ; I
 
 £DWARD WILLOUGHBT. 271 
 
 feel to understand Mr. Leigh ; I don't know 
 how it is, but I feel very strangely about 
 him." 
 
 ^ ^ How is that ? - ' Colonel Ashton asked, smil- 
 ing at the matronly way in which this was said. 
 
 " I mean that I feel to know him much 
 better than I have any reason for knowing 
 him. I felt it from the first day. There 
 was no difficulty in making his acquaintance, 
 the only difficulty was not to be impertinent 
 and seem to know him too well. ISJ'ow I am 
 sure I never should have that kind of feeling 
 for anybody who was not worthy and good in 
 his heart; therefore if he is in love with 
 Clare, as I think he is, I don't think I shall 
 be sorry." 
 
 " But perhaps Clare would.'' 
 
 " Ah ! that is what I wish I knew." 
 
 ^^ And your father ? " 
 
 '' I don't think papa would be angry. I
 
 272 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 daresay lie might not be very mucli de- 
 lighted at first, but he likes Mr. Leigh, and 
 takes an interest in him. He was talking 
 about him yesterday. At first I thought, 
 Avith some idea of this in his head, but I 
 believe not." 
 
 Colonel Ashton shook his head a little 
 gravely and doubtingly ; but the others were 
 now approaching, and he hastily finished his 
 sketch. 
 
 With some people the consciousness of 
 what they feel comes slowly. Self-exami- 
 nation is one thing, a needful practice — self- 
 scrutiny another, and a dangerous one. It 
 was not that night that Clare became conscious 
 that Edward must ever henceforward influ- 
 ence her existence. Though thoughtful in dis- 
 position, and disposed to ponder on the ways 
 of life, she was little disposed to scrutinize 
 or ponder on lierself. With all her wisdom
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 273 
 
 and sound judgment — and slie had much of 
 both — she had indeed something of a child's 
 nature, yielding to the sensation of the 
 moment, but neither searching into its nature 
 when present, nor pursuing it when vanished. 
 Occupied with her sister, her father, and his 
 guests, she turned readily and wholly from 
 the feelings that had embarrassed her; and 
 even Ellen's close and anxious watchfulness 
 failed to penetrate the secret of the new light 
 and life and love that was dawning within. 
 
 TOL I.
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 " It may be a sound, 
 A note of music, summer's eve, or spring, 
 A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound. 
 Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly 
 
 bound." 
 
 Childe Haeold. 
 
 "When Ellen called her father, as was her 
 custom, on the morning of her wedding-day, 
 she found him up and dressed. He was 
 seated at his table with something open 
 before him ; and there was an expression of 
 seriousness, rather subdued than sad, on his 
 countenance. 
 
 He called her to come to him, and put his 
 arm round her waist. '' Do you know this, 
 my darling?" he asked, showing her a beau- 
 tiful miniature of her mother.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 275 
 
 She kissed him in acknowledgment that 
 she did. 
 
 " I am looking at it this morning, Ellen. 
 I can bear to look at it more than I always 
 can, because this day one of her dying 
 wishes is accomplished." 
 
 " What wish ?" Ellen asked softly. 
 
 " That you should marry a good man, my 
 
 darling. When she gave you two frail 
 
 young things into my charge, she bade me 
 
 so to bring you up, that when you came to 
 
 « 
 years of discretion, no light and yain qualities 
 
 should win your hearts. Her prayer was, 
 that you might learn to choose husbands 
 who would help you to walk soberly through 
 the dangers of this world, and lead you 
 safely to the next. I have had many wake- 
 ful hours over this, Ellen, especially since 
 you grew up so gay and giddy, like a young 
 butterfly." 
 
 T 2
 
 276 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 ^^ There was no fear, papa," she said 
 gently. 
 
 "I don't know that, my darling; but 
 there is none now, for yon have made a 
 choice for which she blesses you from 
 Heaven. And now I have but one more 
 care, and then I will say my ^nunc dimittis' 
 whenever God pleases. Let my precious 
 Clare make a choice worthy of her, and I 
 have nothing left to wish for in this world." 
 
 '' 1 think you may trust Clare, papa," 
 Ellen said with earnestness, '^ Whoever she 
 chooses must be good, or she will not choose 
 him." 
 
 *^My dear child," her father said, "we 
 must not, any of us poor mortals, be over- 
 confident ; we do our best, but the best of 
 us may be deceived. Why, I myself, Ellen — 
 not that I call myself one of the best, God 
 forbid ! but even I, with all my experience,
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBT. 277 
 
 :iiight perhaps be deceived ; and how much 
 more a young thing, steady though she is, 
 like Clare. 'No, no ; we can but hope — so 
 I must still have wakeful nights for her. 
 But you are safe, my darling, and that's a 
 great thing; and that's why this day is the 
 
 happiest day of my life since the day " 
 
 He paused, and a sigh came from the recol- 
 lections of long past years ; then kissing his 
 daughter he dismissed her. 
 
 There was little in the wedding to merit 
 description. It was pretty, not from gran- 
 deur, but from its primitiveness and sim- 
 plicity, — and interesting, from the hearty 
 feeling shown by the spectators. It was 
 touching, from many concurring and apparent 
 causes, the youth of the bride and the age 
 and character of the bridegroom — the happi- 
 ness left behind in the past, and the hopes of 
 happiness dawning in the future — most of all
 
 278 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 from the proud tenderness shown by th 
 father and the love of the child. When, at 
 the conclusion of the service, the bride rose 
 from her knees, and, turning for a moment from 
 the hand her husband held out, threw herself 
 into her father's arms, while his hearty voice, 
 with a slight tremble, said, " God bless you, 
 my darling!" — there was a thrill of emotion 
 among many of the spectators, and Ealph 
 felt his arm seized with a hard grasp by the 
 one who stood beside him. Surprised, he 
 looked in Edward's face, and saw his brows 
 knit into an expression of pain. It was 
 indeed with pain Edward saw that confiding 
 affection : wrapt in the one thought of win- 
 niug Clare, Sir Hugh's feelings had of late 
 become of less than secondary consideration; 
 something told him, now, that it would be 
 through the father's favour only that the 
 daughter's could be won.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 279 
 
 Though simple and unostentatious, Sir 
 Hugh was hearty in his hospitality. He 
 liked his old friends and neighbours to see 
 his satisfaction ; and a large party returned 
 to Middlethorpe to breakfast. Before it 
 took place, Colonel Ashton and Ellen set 
 forth on their journey. They had a long 
 way to go, Colonel Ashton' s house, in 
 Monmouthshire, being sixty miles from 
 Middlethorpe. 
 
 As they started, a slight incident happened 
 which awakened Clare to the knowledge of 
 her own heart. 
 
 When Ellen left the house, her father 
 and sister, accompanied by twenty or thirty 
 other guests, followed her to the hall door. 
 Clare stood in the front row, a thick throng 
 behind her. Ellen had wished her good-bye, 
 and was being led by her father to the car- 
 riage ; when at the carriage step she paused,
 
 280 EDWAED WILLOIJGHBY. 
 
 turned round, went a few steps backward, 
 and put some flowers she had carried all the 
 morning, into her sister's hand. Why she 
 did it she did not know; it was a momentary 
 impulse ; but there was something in the 
 action that affected Clare, and the tears she 
 had hitherto resolutely restrained fell thick 
 and fast from her eyes. She tried to escape, 
 but the throng, gazing with all their eyes 
 at the departing bride, formed an impenetra- 
 ble barrier behind her. Edward's eyes were 
 upon her — as when where they not! — and 
 without effort, without fuss, almost without a 
 movement, he stretched out his arm, opened 
 a way for her, and made her pass. 
 
 Why this simple action should have en- 
 lightened her eyes, it would be hard to tell. 
 There was no effort to engage her attention — 
 for the moment, indeed, Edward had for- 
 gotten himseK ; — ^but suddenly she felt, that
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGKBY. 281 
 
 between her and him there was that hidden 
 sympathy which is the bond of spirits — felt 
 even in the moment of her sister's depar- 
 ture — a new hand of affection laid on her 
 own more than able to replace what she had 
 lost. 
 
 She only felt this — there was no reflection 
 — no scrutiny. She dried her tears, and 
 hastened back to meet her father, and to 
 assist him in the attentions it pleased him to 
 show his guests; but she knew that all 
 things in life had taken a new aspect to her 
 eyes ; and Edward knew it also — saw it at 
 a glance — saw it in her averted eyes and 
 heightened colour — ^heard it in the hurried 
 tone of her voice. The time for decision was 
 drawing near. 
 
 Agitated and restless, almost beyond his 
 own control, he had yet the forbearance not 
 to approach her at a time when her self-
 
 282 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 command was so much needed. He left 
 Middlethorpe with the rest of the guests, to 
 return only at dinner-time. Hope was high 
 in his heart ; but he loved too deeply for 
 hope to be anything but an anxious thing, 
 more akin to fear than to hope's proper being. 
 Concentred all on Clare, Sir Hugh, and his 
 own peculiar and personal circumstances, 
 were forgotten. There were but two things 
 in the world — his love, and Clare.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Thy foe's before thee, — thou must fight, or fly." 
 
 QUARLES. 
 
 When Ealph and Edward entered the 
 drawing-room at Middlethorpe, they found a 
 large party assembled. There were old 
 friends now on a visit to Sir Hugh ; a few 
 select friends who had been present in the 
 morning; and several strangers — acquain- 
 tances too little intimate to be invited to the 
 marriage, but to whom Sir Hugh desired 
 to extend his civilities on the occasion. Few 
 of the party being known to the young men,
 
 284 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 they made their way to Clare, who sat 
 beside the fireplace. Edward placed him- 
 self behind her : he had seen her colour rise 
 as he approached, and whether it boded 
 him good or ill, he was sujB&ciently consider- 
 ate to determine to leaye her undisturbed, 
 for the better performance of her present 
 duties. 
 
 Ealph began to talk to her. While he was 
 speaking, Clare observed a gentleman who 
 stood on the opposite side of the fireplace, bow 
 to some person beyond her. She knew Edward 
 was there, and the bow chanced to attract 
 her attention, because the gentleman had 
 not been at Middlethorpe during his stay in 
 the country, having only a few days previ- 
 ously returned from a foreign tour. 
 
 In two or three seconds, the bow was 
 repeated. Clare now glanced round, and 
 though it was almost impossible the saluta-
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 285 
 
 tion should not have been perceived, ob- 
 served that Edward was standing unmoved. 
 His. inattention caused her some amusement, 
 for it was a behaviour which, had it not been 
 for natural and necessary civility, the atten- 
 tions of the person in question would often 
 have provoked her to assume. He was a gen- 
 tleman belonging to the family of Paul Pry — 
 possessed of an insatiable curiosity regarding 
 the affairs of others, and with a desire equally 
 intense to set those right who were in the 
 wrong, and sometimes (though this was un- 
 consciously) to put those in the wrong who 
 were right. He was not naturally unamiable, 
 but his propensities led him to many unami- 
 a,ble actions, and he was well-known in the 
 country as a mischief-maker. 
 
 A third time the bow was repeated, and 
 Clare thought it best to call Edward's atten- 
 tion to the circumstance. " Do you know
 
 286 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 Mr. Molesey, Mr. Leigh? I think he is 
 bowing to you." 
 
 Edward's colour rose to his temples, but 
 he answered calmly, "I don't know him; 
 but it seems he knows me." He then coldly 
 returned the salutation, and drew still 
 further backward. 
 
 A moment afterwards, dinner was ready. 
 " Ealph," Edward then said, laying his 
 hand on his arm as he detained him behind 
 the others, "that man remembers me. 
 Who he is I have not a guess ; but I know the 
 face, and I read mischief in his eyes. What 
 I do now must be done quickly. Pity me, 
 for more than life is in the balance." His 
 voice was hoarse with suppressed agitation. 
 Ealph could only look the sincerity of his 
 compassion, for already the mischievous eye 
 was darting backward its curious glances 
 into their conference.
 
 EDWAED WILLOTJGHBY. 287 
 
 The hour of dinner passed off quietly. The 
 stranger was placed at a distance from Sir 
 Hugh, Clare, and Edward, and made no efforts 
 to engage their notice. He was perhaps 
 better employed in observing them. 
 
 When Clare and Mrs. Hollis disappeared, 
 Ealph and Edward were reduced to silence. 
 During dinner, both — the one from policy, the 
 other from kindness — had exerted themselves 
 to add to the liveliness, or relieve the dullness 
 of the humdrum party; but when the gentle- 
 men were left to themselves, the conversation 
 became general, and very shortly purely 
 local. To those interested in the small 
 politics of a country neighbourhood it was 
 exciting, but strangers had nothing to say. 
 Kalph sate mute and quiet ; Edward, dumb 
 but restless ; his eye on the door, his mind 
 plotting means of escape, and the possibility 
 of seeing Clare alone.
 
 288 EDWABD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 Mr. Grantley, always kind and thoughtful, 
 perceived their abstraction ; and as he was 
 seated near Sir Hugh, murmured something 
 in his ear. Sir Hugh took the hint. 
 
 " Young men," he cried good-humouredly, 
 " what is interesting to us, may not be inte- 
 resting to you. If you prefer the society of 
 Mrs. Hollis and my daughter to that of the 
 company here assembled, why I can only 
 say, I, for my part, will overlook the offence." 
 
 Mr. Grantley nodded to them to accept 
 the offer ; and with a smile from Ealph, and 
 a look of intense thankfulness from Edward, 
 both left the room. 
 
 They found Mrs. Hollis alone; but 
 Edward was not to be baffled, his courage 
 was up, he was mad almost in his excite- 
 ment. 
 
 He approached Mrs. Hollis, and said 
 abruptly, ^* Where is Miss Willoughby ?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 289 
 
 She looked iip in amazement at the strange 
 imperious tone; but there are some questions 
 that will be answered ; this was one. She 
 could n*ot refuse the information he sought. 
 
 " Miss "Willoughby is in that room," she 
 replied coldly, bowing her head towards the 
 door in the panel. 
 
 " May I go and speak to her ?" he said in 
 the same resolute tone ; plainly implying, 
 that given or not, the permission would be 
 taken. 
 
 Mrs. Hollis was startled and offended, but 
 again submitted herself. She bowed with 
 stateliness, and acquiesced. 
 
 '^ Mr. Leigh is behaving himself in a 
 strange way," she relieved herself by saying 
 to Ealph. 
 
 " Poor Edward !" was his reply. 
 
 She opened her eyes — ^became suddenly 
 enlightened — then, far too discreet to make a 
 
 VOL I. u
 
 290 EDWARD WILLOUOHBY. 
 
 further inquiry, began to hem with 
 vehemence. 
 
 Meanwhile Edward approached the door ; 
 he knocked softly, but waited for no reply, 
 and went in. He became calm as he entered, 
 for there was calmness in the atmosphere of 
 the room, speaking as it did of earthly hopes 
 vanished, and vanished affections living still. 
 
 The room was lighted by a lamp from the 
 ceiling, and was bright with a softened and 
 subdued light. It had been thus lighted 
 during Lady Willoughby's lifetime, that she 
 might go in and out at pleasure ; and thus, 
 by Sir Hugh's order, the nightly recollection 
 of her presence was renewed. 
 
 Clare was standing at the window. The 
 evening was mild, and the moonlight calm 
 and lovely; but Clare was reflecting, not 
 gazing. There was something active and 
 vigorous in her mind, which made her indis-
 
 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 291 
 
 posed to dreamy reveries, and when she 
 thought it was deeply, — bringing all her 
 powers to bear on the subject before her. The 
 present subject may easily be imagined. She 
 had had little time during the day to ponder 
 upon it in its various bearings, as it regarded 
 her father, Edward, and herself; and 
 feeling the time was near when she 
 might be called on for a decision, she 
 was come to form it now. It was an old 
 habit, and one that had exercised a beneficial 
 influence on her character, to bring all grave 
 questions to examination in her mother's 
 room. There the various duties of life 
 assumed their true character ; there it was 
 hard for temporal interests to overshadow 
 eternal duties. 
 
 She heard the knock, and looked round 
 without speaking. When she saw Edward 
 she knew at once wherefore he was come, and 
 
 u 2
 
 292 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 stood to await him : her heart beat thick and 
 fast, and her colour ebbed and flowed ; but 
 when occasions came she was rarely unready 
 to meet them. 
 
 ^']\Irs. Hollis gave me leave to come,'' 
 Edward hurriedly explained, and joined her 
 at the window ; but when he stood there, the 
 longing he had felt to be in her presence 
 gave place to an agony of fear. A profound 
 silence followed his entrance ; and when at 
 last he spoke, it was on an indifferent subject. 
 
 '' What a rushing sound there is in the 
 stream to night," he observed quietly ; 
 ^'what does it portend?" 
 
 ^' A change, I am afraid," Clare as quietly 
 replied. ^' Stormy weather is coming." 
 
 Another silence, and then Edward collected 
 himself. '^ Clare, may I speak to you?" he 
 said. 
 
 She bowed her head in assent.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 293 
 
 His words were few, and, contrary to his 
 usual manner when excited, calm — their in- 
 tensity made them so. It is a hackneyed ex- 
 pression to say he spoke as if life depended 
 on the decision ; yet, at the moment, he felt 
 as if far more than life was in the balance 
 — as much more as happiness is beyond ex- 
 istence. When they were said, he added, 
 "Now, Clare, speak — do not keep me in 
 suspense." 
 
 '^ I will not," she said steadily, though 
 her voice was low. "For myself I can easily 
 answer you ; but it rests with papa — I will 
 never displease him — never, never leave 
 him." 
 
 " You shall not need," Edward cried, pas- 
 sionately grasping her hand, "for I will be 
 his son. Oh ! Clare, do you know who I am ? 
 I am Edward AVilloughby." 
 
 She drew her hand away with a startled
 
 294 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 gaze and hasty movement, and '^ Oh ! Edward, 
 what have you done ?" burst from her lips. 
 
 '' Have I done ill, Clare ?" he cried 
 excitedly. " I have ventured this, and would 
 do it again for your love." 
 
 She made no answer, but came out into 
 the room, and stood for a moment as if 
 thinking deeply. Edward could see the 
 hurried beat of her heart, and, as the lamp- 
 light fell on her face, the paleness of her 
 cheek. 
 
 '' Clare, speak !" he cried again, almost 
 with violence, seizing her hand. "Do not 
 torture me ! — give me hope or I shall go 
 mad." 
 
 She drew back her hand with a serious- 
 ness that alarmed him. "I was trying to 
 think," she said, "but I cannot. All I 
 know is, I must not listen to you now." 
 
 "One minute !" he cried. "Let me tell 
 you all."
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 295 
 
 She shook her head. '^ ]S'o, Edward ; not 
 now. jN"©! till papa knows. I would not 
 for the world. Let us go back." 
 
 So saying, she went to the door, and laid 
 her hand upon it. There she paused a 
 moment, and looked round. Edward's 
 countenance touched her ; she went back 
 and held out her hand to him. ^' Dear 
 Edward, do not think me unkind," she said 
 quietly, speaking to liim as to her cousin — 
 so long kno^vTi, so familiar to her mind. 
 ^^Papa trusts me, and I would not for 
 the world stay with you till he knows. 
 We must wait and be patient ; and if it is 
 painful to you," she added, with still greater 
 softness, '' remember you do not bear it 
 alone." 
 
 Edward saw she was resolved ; let go her 
 hand; and followed her, in silence, to the 
 drawing-room.
 
 296 EDWAED WILLOUGHBT. 
 
 Ealph and Mrs. Hollis were enjoying eacl 
 other's society in silence. Both were seated, 
 but on Clare's entrance, Ealph rose and 
 directed towards her and her companion a 
 glance of earnest inquiry. Mrs. Hollis 
 worked steadily on. To haye no curiosity 
 would not have been in human nature, but 
 she was too discreet to endeavour to satisfy 
 it by common means. She had eyes, as she 
 often said, and was thankful for them, but 
 she rarely condescended to use them. 
 
 Ealph' s glance of inquiry received no 
 satisfying answer. Edward's cheek was 
 flushed, and his eyes sparkled ; but yet he 
 looked anxious and dispirited. Clare was 
 pale and very grave. Her disturbance did 
 not look like indifference ; and yet her 
 seriousness had no symptoms of excited 
 feeling. Ealph could not understand one or 
 the other.
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 297 
 
 Clare sat down and took up her work ; 
 and after some moments' silence, during which 
 she seemed to be deciding on a point or 
 course of action, addressed Ealph on an 
 indifferent topic. Edward stood at a little 
 distance, looking at her, as if in the world 
 there was no object but her. 
 
 Anxious to relieve Clare, and give her 
 time to think, Ealph came towards her and 
 began to talk, not according to his usual 
 habit, yielding short answers to long questions, 
 but taking, with kind purpose, the burden of 
 the conversation upon himself. Plunging 
 into the recesses of his mind, he found, at 
 length, an anecdote, and relieved her entirely 
 by dilating this into immoderate proportions. 
 He had not quite extricated himself from a 
 vain search after the point of the tale, when 
 he was interrupted by the entrance of Sir 
 Hugh and the rest, and he retired, leaving
 
 298 EDWARD WILLOrGHBY. 
 
 the point unfound. He then managed to 
 approach Edward, and murmured, '' How is 
 it, my dear fellow ?'' but received for answer 
 only a hard and painful gripe on his arm, 
 and with that was forced to be content. 
 
 There was plenty of noise and conversation 
 in the room, and for some time he stood by 
 Edward, giving him the silent sympathy of 
 his company ; but suddenly perceiving Mr. 
 Molesey's inquisitive eyes directed towards 
 them, he whispered to Edward, '' You had 
 better exert yourself ;" and mingled with 
 the crowd. 
 
 Edward did then rouse himself, and moved 
 a few steps nearer to the rest of the world. 
 He was met and addressed by Mr. Grantley. 
 To Mr. Grantley, Edward's feelings were not 
 entirely a secret. He had recently discovered 
 their existence; but was little aware to what 
 a height they had arisen, and was entirely at
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY, 299 
 
 a loss as to whether they were returned. 
 Eeading unconnnon disturbance on his brow 
 this night, he came to him, with the kind 
 intention of relie^dng him from the notice of 
 Sir Hugh. 
 
 In the midst of the noisy conversations of 
 many of the company, Mr. Molesey ap- 
 proached Clare. 'No better person could 
 have been found, if she desired to have her 
 thoughts diverted from a painful subject, for 
 with him it was necessary always to be on 
 your guard. He had a way of putting 
 questions and drawing inferences, all in a 
 smooth and quiet way, which required vigi- 
 lant attention to baffle, in so far, at least, as 
 you desired to keep your private thoughts 
 and opinions from his knowledge. His great 
 subject this day was Ellen's marriage. He 
 made very miaute and inquisitive inquiries 
 into the progress of the attachment, pro-
 
 300 EDWAED WILLOUGHBY. 
 
 fessing extreme surprise that Miss Ellen 
 should have fancied so old a man ; dropping 
 a hint as to the advantageousness of the 
 match, as regarded worldly concerns, ending 
 Tvith — "Which, Miss Willoughby, we none 
 of us scorn, say what we may.'' 
 
 In early days, Clare would have been 
 roused to indignation ; but for some time she 
 had been aware that the wisest course is 
 to let things alone, and not to answer im- 
 pertinence. She took it, therefore, very 
 quietly; spoke civilly, though coldly; and on 
 unimportant points gave him the information 
 he desired. 
 
 Perhaps her manner piqued him — perhaps 
 from the first he had intended to enlighten her 
 as to the discovery he had made. However 
 this might be, suddenly he drew a chair close 
 to her chair, and began to whisper, in a 
 mysterious manner,—
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 301 
 
 *^I have met an old acquaintance here to- 
 night, under circumstances that surprise me. 
 I allude to Mr. Leigh — you must of course 
 be aware that Leigh is an assumed name " — 
 here he paused, and looked at her with 
 expectant, delighted eyes, — ^^ that he is, 
 in fact, a relative of your own — Mr. Wil- 
 loughby." 
 
 Clare's heart leaped into her mouth ; of all 
 the persons present, he was the one from 
 whom she would have kept the disclosui-e 
 if she could. Eut after one sudden rush of 
 blood to her cheek, and one anxious glance 
 at her father, she replied quietly, ^^ I never 
 knew it till to night; but I know it now." 
 
 He had hoped to be first in the announce- 
 ment, and was disappointed ; still more dis- 
 appointed at her quiet manner. He continued 
 in a louder key — ^'I met him two years 
 ago at Eome — saw him there constantly.
 
 302 EDWARD \VILLOTJGHEY. 
 
 Perhaps you observed that I bowed to 
 him?" 
 
 She assented. 
 
 "Yes; I remember you called his attention 
 to the fact. He seemed as if he wished to 
 avoid me. May I ask you, Miss Willoughby, 
 if there is any reason for the extraordinary 
 disguise Mr. Willoughby is now assuming?" 
 
 To any one but Mr. Molesey, Clare would 
 have said, "I do not wish my father to make 
 this discovery before so many witnesses, as 
 it will much disturb him;" but she could 
 not trust him. She preferred to let things 
 take their course, rather than in any way to 
 throw herself on his compassion. She only 
 replied, therefore, maintaining as steady a 
 countenance as she could, " I think there 
 must be good reasons for a conduct so strange; 
 would it not be better, therefore, Mr.Molesey, 
 to apply to Mr. Leigh himself for a solution 
 of the difficulty?"
 
 EDWARD WILLOUGHBY. 303 
 
 " I wished to set you on your guard," lie 
 replied, in a friendly tone ; ^' these disguises 
 sometimes lead to mischief." 
 
 ''That they are sure to do," she said, 
 raising her eyes and looJcing what she could 
 not say in words, a request that he would 
 be still, and keep his knowledge to himself. 
 
 Mr. Molesey was extremely puzzled by 
 what was going on. To whom was the state 
 of the case known ? For what purpose was 
 Edward here ? Why did not Clare ask him 
 to keep the secret, if it was a secret, between 
 herself and her cousin? Much perplexed, 
 he felt himself absolutely called upon, as a 
 sacred and imperative duty, to keep watch, 
 and discover what the mystery might be. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 London : M. S. Myers, 22, Tavistock Street Covent Garden,
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 MESSRS. HURST AND BLACKETT, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO MB. COLBURN, 
 
 HAVE LATELY PUBLISHED. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 COURT AAD CABINETS 
 
 OE GEORGE THE THIRD, 
 
 FROM ORIGINAL FAMILY DOCUMENTS. 
 
 BY THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM AND CHANDOS, K.G., &c. 
 
 Second Edition, Revised. 2 vols. 8vo., with Portraits. 30s. 
 
 OPINIOXS OF THE PRESS. 
 
 " These volumes contain much valuable matter. The letters which George, 
 first Marquis of Buckingham, laid by as worthy of preservation, have some claim 
 to see the light, for he held more than one office in the State, and consequently 
 kept lip a communication with a great number of historical personages. He 
 himself was twice Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, first, under Lord Ilockingham, and 
 secondly, under Pitt ; his most constant correspondents were his two brothers, 
 William and Thomas Grenville, both of whom spent the chief part of their lives 
 in ofiiclal employments, and of whom the former is sufficiently known to fame 
 as Lord Grenville. The staple of the book is made up of these family documents, 
 but there are also to be found interspersed with the Grenville narrative, letters 
 from every man of note, dating from the death of the elder Pitt to the end of 
 the century. There are three periods upon which they shed a good deal of light. 
 The formation of the Coalition Ministry in 1783, the illness of the King in 1788, 
 and the first war with Republican France. Lord Grenville's letters to his brother 
 afford a good deal of information on the machinations of the Prince's party, and 
 the conduct of the Prince and the Duke of York during the King's illness." — The 
 Times. 
 
 " A very remarkable and valuable publication. The Duke of Buckingham has 
 himself undertaken the task of forming a history from the papers of his grand- 
 father and great-uncle, the Earl Temple (first Marquis of Buckingham), and Lord 
 Grenville, of the days of the second Wm. Pitt. The letters which are given to 
 the public in these volumes, extend over an interval commencing with 1782, and 
 ending with 1800. In that interval events occurred which can never lose their 
 interest as incidents in the history of England. The Coalition Ministry and its 
 dismissal by the King — the resistance of the Sovereign and Pitt to the efforts of 
 the discarded ministers to force themselves again into office — the great con-
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE COURT AND CABINETS OF GEORGE III. 
 
 OPINIOXS OF THE PRESS — CONTINUED. 
 
 sti'tutional question of the Regency -which arose upon the King's disastrous malady 
 — the contest upon that question hetween the heir apparent and the ministers 
 of the Crown — the breaking out of the French Revolution, and the consequent 
 entrance of England upon the great European war, — these, with the union 
 with Ireland, are political movements every detail of which possesses the deepest 
 interest. In these volumes, details, then guarded with the most anxious care 
 from all eyes hut those of the privileged few, are now for the first time given to 
 the public. The most secret history of many of the transactions is laid bare. 
 It is not possible to conceive contemporary history more completely exemplified. 
 From such materials it was not possible to form a work that would not possess 
 the very highest interest. The Duke of Buckingham has, however, moulded his 
 materials with no ordinary ability and skill. The connecting narrative is written 
 both with judgment and vigour — not unfrequently in a style that comes up to 
 the highest order of historical composition — especially in some of the sketches of 
 personal character. There is scarcely a single individual of celebrity throughout 
 the period from 1782 to 1800 who is not introduced into these pages ; amongst 
 others, besides the King and the various members of the royal family, are Rock- 
 ingham, Shelburne, North, Thurlow, Loughborougb, Fox, Pitt, Sheridan, Burke, 
 Portland, Sydney, Fitzwilliam, Tierney, Buckingham, Granville, Grey, Malmes- 
 bury, "SYilberforce, Burdett, Fitzgibbon, Grattan, Flood, Cornwallis, the Beresfords, 
 the Ponsonbys, the AYeilesleys, &c." — Morning Herald. 
 
 "■ These memoirs are among the most valuable materials for history that have 
 recently been brought to light out of the archives of any of our great families. 
 The period embraced by the letters is from the beginning of 1782 to the close 
 of J 799, comprising the last days of the North Administration, the brief life of 
 the Rockingham, and the troubled life of the Shelbuime Ministry, the stormy 
 career of the Coalition of '83, the not less stormy debates and intrigues which 
 broke out on the first insanity of the King, the gradual modifications of Pitt's first 
 Ministry, and the opening days of the struggle with France after her first great 
 revolution. Of these the most valuable illustrations concern the motives of Fox 
 in withdrawing from Shelburne and joining v.-ith North against him, the desperate 
 intriguing and deliberate bad faith of the King exerted against the Coalition, and 
 the profligacy and heartlessness of the Prince of Wales and his brother all through 
 the Regency debates. On some incidental subjects, also, as the affairs of Ireland, 
 the Warren Hastings trial, the Fitzgerald outbreak, the Union, the sad vicissitudes 
 and miseries of the last days of the old French monarchy, &c., the volumes supply 
 illustrative facts and comments of much interest." — Examiner. 
 
 " This valuable contribution to the treasures of historic lore, now for the 
 first time produced from the archives of the Buckingham family displays the 
 action of the different parties in the State, throws great light on the personal 
 character of the King, as well as on the share which he took in the direction of 
 public affairs, and incidentally reveals many facts hitherto but imperfectly known 
 or altogether unknown. In order to render the contents of the letters more 
 intelligible, the noble Editor has, with great tact and judgment, set them out in 
 a kind of historical framework, in which the leading circumstances under which 
 they were ^Titten are briefly indicated — the result being a happy combination of 
 the completeness of historical narrative ^vith the freshness of original thought 
 and of contemporaneous record."— /oAn Bull. 
 
 " These volumes are a treasure for the politician, and a mine of wealth for the 
 historian." — Britannia.
 
 HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 LORD GEOliGE BEKTINCK 
 
 A POLITICAL BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 BY THE BIGHT HOIT. B. DISEAELI, M.P. 
 
 Fifth and Cheapeh Edition, Revised. Post 8to. 10s. Gd. 
 
 From Blackwood*s Magazine. — '' This biography cannot fail to attract the 
 deep attention of the public. We are bound to say, that as a political biography 
 we have rarely, if ever, met v.-ith a book more dexterously handled, or more 
 replete with interest. The history of the famous session of 1846, as \yritten by 
 Disraeli in that brilliant and pointed style of which he is so consummate a master, 
 is deeply interesting. He has traced this memorable struggle with a vivacity and 
 power unequalled as yet in any naiTative of Parliamentary proceedings." 
 
 From The Dublin University Magazine. — "A political biography of 
 Lord George Bentinck by Mr. Disraeli must needs be a work of interest" and 
 importance. Either the subject or the writer would be sufficient to invest it 
 with both — the combination surrounds it with peculiar attractions. In this 
 most interesting volume Mr. DisraeU has produced a memoir of his friend in 
 which he has combined the warmest enthusiasm of affectionate attachment with 
 the calmness of the critic." 
 
 From The Morning Herald. — " Mr. Disraeli's tribute to the memor}' of 
 his departed friend is as graceful and as touching as it is accurate and impartial. 
 No one of Lord George Bcntinck's colleagues could have been selected, who, 
 from his high literary attainments, his personal intimacy, and party associations, 
 v/ould have done such complete justice to the memory of a friend and Parlia- 
 mentary associate. Mr. Disraeli has here presented us with the very type and 
 embodiment of what history should be. His sketch of the condition of parties 
 is seasoned with some of those piquant personal episodes of party manoeuvres 
 and private intrigues, in the author's hajjpiest and most captivating vein, which 
 convert the dry details of pohtics into a sparkling and agreeable narrative." 
 
 LOUD PALMERSTON'S OPINIONS 
 
 AND POLICY; 
 AS MINISTER, DIPLOMATIST, AND STATESMAN, 
 
 during more than forty years of public life. 
 1 V. Svo., with Portrait, 12s. 
 
 " This work ought to have a place in every political library. It gives a com- 
 plete Anew of the sentiments and opinions by which the policy of Lord 
 Palmerston has been dictated as a diplomatist and statesman." — Chronicle. 
 
 " This is a remarkable and seasonable publication ; but it is something more — 
 it is a valuable addition to the historical treasures of our country during more 
 than forty of the most memorable years of our annals. We earnestly recommend 
 the volume to general perusal." — Standard.
 
 4 HURST AND BLACKETT S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE LIFE OF MAllIE DE MEDICIS, 
 
 QUEEN OF FRANCE, 
 
 CONSORT OF HENRY IV., AND REGENT UNDER LOUIS XIIL 
 
 BT MISS PAKDOE, 
 
 Author of "Louis XIY. and the Court of France, in the 17th Century," &c. 
 
 Second Edition. 3 large vols. 8vo., with Fine Portraits. 
 
 '* A fascinating book. The history of such a woman as the beautiful, impulsive, 
 earnest, and affectionate Marie de Medicis could only be done justice to by a 
 female pen, impelled by all the sympathies of womanhood, but strengthened by 
 an erudition by which it is not in every case accompanied. In Miss Pardoe the 
 unfortunate Queen has found both these requisites, and the result has been a 
 biography combining the attractiveness of romance with the reliableness of his- 
 tory, and which, taking a place midway between the 'frescoed galleries' of 
 Thierry, and the 'philosophic watch-tower of Guizot,' has all the pictorial brilliancy 
 of the one, with much of the reflectPi-e speculation of the other." — Daily Neivs. 
 
 "A valuable, well-written, and elaborate biography, displaying an unusual 
 amount of industry and research." — Morning Chronicle. 
 
 "A careful and elaborate historical composition, rich in personal anecdote. 
 Nowhere can a more intimate acquaintance be obtained with the principal events 
 and leading personages of the first half of the 17th century." — Morning Post. 
 
 " A work of high literary and historical merit. Rarely have the strange 
 vicissitudes of romance been more intimately blended with the facts of real 
 history than in the life of Marie de ^ledicis ; nor has the difficult problem of 
 combining with the fidehty of biography the graphic power of dramatic delineation 
 been often more successfully solved than by the talented author of the volumes 
 before us. As a personal narrative, Miss Pardoe's admirable biography possesses 
 the most absorbing and constantly sustained interest ; as a historical record of the 
 events of which it treats, its merit is of no ordinary description." — Jo/in Bull. 
 
 " A life more dramatic than that of Marie de Medicis has seldom been written ; 
 one more imperially tragic, never. The period of French history chosen by Miss 
 Pardoe is rich in all manner of associations, and brings together the loftiest 
 names and most interesting events of a stirring and dazzling epoch. She has 
 been, moreover, exceedingly fortunate in her materials. A manuscript of the Com- 
 raandeur de Rambure, Gentleman of the Bedchamber under the Kings Henry IV., 
 Louis XIIL, and Louis XIV., consisting of the memoirs of the writer, with all 
 the most memorable events which took place during the reigns of those three 
 Majesties, from the year 1594 to that of 1660, was placed at her disposal by 
 M. de la Plane, Member of the Institut Royal de la France. This valuable 
 record is very voluminous, and throws a flood of light on every transaction. Of 
 this important document ample use has been judiciously made by Miss Pardoe; 
 and her narrative, accordingly, has a fulness and particularity possessed by none 
 other, and which adds to the dramatic interest of the subject. The work is very 
 elegantly written, and will be read with delight. It forms another monimient to 
 the worthiness of female intellect in the age we live in." — Illustrated Neivs.
 
 HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 BARONESS D'OBERKIRCH, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE SECRET HISTORY OF 
 
 THE COURTS OF FRANCE, RUSSLi, AND GER^^IANY. 
 
 ^WTIITTEN BY HEKSELF, 
 
 And Edited by Her Grandson, the Count de Montbrisox. 
 
 3 vols. Post 8vo. 31s. 6d. 
 
 The Baroness d'Oberkirch, being the intimate friend of the Empress of Russia, 
 wife of Paul I., and the confidential companion of the Duchess of Bourbon, 
 her facilities for obtaining information respecting the most private affairs of the 
 principal Courts of Europe, render her Memoirs unrivalled as a book of interest- 
 ing anecdotes of the royal, noble, and other celebrated individuals who flourished 
 on the continent during the latter part of the last century. Among the royal per- 
 sonages introduced to the reader in this work, are Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, 
 Philip Egalite, and all the Princes of France then living — Peter the Great, the 
 Empress Catherine, the Emperor Paul, and his sons Constantine and Alexander, 
 of Russia — Frederick the Great and Prince Henry of Prussia — The Emperor 
 Joseph II. of Austria — Gustavus III. of Sweden — Princess Christina of Saxony — 
 Sobieski, and Czartoriski of Poland — and the Princes of Brunswick and \N'urtem- 
 berg. Among the remarkable persons are the Princes and Princesses de Lamballe, 
 de Ligne and Galitzin — the Dukes and Duchesses de Choiseul, de Mazarin, de 
 Boufflers, de la Valliere, de Guiche, de Penthie\Te, and de PoUgnac — Cardinal de 
 Rohan, Marshals Biron and d'Harcourt, Count de Staremberg, Baroness de 
 Krudener, Madame GeofFrin, Talleyrand, Mirabeau, and Necker — with Count 
 Cagliostro, Mesmer, Vestris, and iladame Mara; and the work also includes 
 such literary celebrities as Voltaire, Condorcet, de la Harpe, de Beaumarchais, 
 Rousseau, Lavater, Bernouilli, Raynal, de I'Epee, Huber, Gothe, Wieland, Male- 
 sherbes, Marmontel, de Stael and de Genlis ; with some singular disclosures 
 respecting those celebrated Englishwomen, Elizabeth Chudleigh, Duchess of 
 Kingston, and Lady Craven, Margravine of Anspach. 
 
 "The Baroness d'Oberkirch, whose remarkable Slemoirs are here given to the public, saw 
 much of courts and courtiers, and her Memoirs are filled with a variety of anecdotes, not 
 alone of lords and ladies, but of emperors and empresses, kings and queens, and reigning 
 princes and princesses. As a picture of society anterior to the French Revolution, the hook 
 is the latest and most perfect production of its kind extant ; and as such, besides its minor 
 value as a book of amusement, it possesses a major value as a work of information, which, in 
 the interest of historical truth, is, without exaggeration, almost incalculable." — Observer. 
 
 "Thoroughly genuine and unaffected, these Memoirs display the whole mind of a woman 
 who was well worth knowing, and relate a large part of her experience among people with 
 whose names and characters the world will be at all times busy. A keen observer, and by 
 position thrown in the high places of the world, the Baroness d'Oberkirch was the very 
 woman to write Memoirs that would interest future generations. We commend these 
 volumes most heartily to every reader. They are a perfect magazine of pleasant anecdotes 
 and interesting characteristic things. We lay down these charming volumes with regret. 
 They will entertain the most fastidious readers, and instruct the most informed." — Examiner. 
 
 "An intensely interesting autobiography."— iT/ornirtg- Chronicle. 
 
 " A valuable addition to the personal history of an important period. The volumes deserve 
 general popularity." — Daily News. 
 
 " One of the most interesting pieces of contemporary history, and one of the richest 
 collections of remarkable anecdotes and valuable reminiscences ever produced." — John Bull.
 
 b HURST AND BLACKETT S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF JOHN ABERNETHY, E.R.S., 
 
 WITH A VIEW OF HIS WRITINGS, LECTURES, AND CHARACTER. 
 
 BT GEOBGE MACinWATN, P.K.C.S., 
 
 Author of *' Medicine and Surgery One Inductive Science," &c. 
 
 Second Edition. 2 v. post Svo., M'itli Portrait. 21s. 
 
 " A memoir of high professional and general interest." — Morning- Post. 
 
 " These memoirs convey a graphic, and, we helieve, faithful picture of the 
 celebrated John Abernethy. The volumes are written in a popular style, and will 
 afford to the general reader much instruction and entertainment." — Herald. 
 
 " This is a book which ought to be read by everv' one. The professional man 
 will find in it the career of one of the most illustrious professors of medicine of 
 our own or of any other age — the student of intellectual science the progress of a 
 tfuly profound philosopner — and all, the lesson afforded by a good man's life. 
 Abernethy's memory is worthy of a good biographer, tmd happily it has found 
 one. Mr. Macilwain writes well; and evidently, in giving the history of his 
 deceased friend, he executes a labour of love. The arrangement of his matter is 
 excellent : so happily interwoven with narrative, anecdotes, often comical enough, 
 and deep reflection, as to carry a reader forward in-esistibly." — Standard. 
 
 THE LITESATURE AND EOMANCE 
 
 OF NORTHERN EUROPE: 
 
 CONSTITUTING A COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE LITEKATURE OF SWEDEN, 
 D3 xnMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND, WITH COPIOUS SPECIMENS OF THE 
 MOST CELEBRATED HISTORIES, ROMANCES, POPULAR LEGENDS AND TALES, 
 OLD CHIVALROUS BALLADS, TRAGIC AND COMIC DRAMAS, NATIONAL SONGS, 
 NOVELS, AND SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF THE PRESENT DAY. 
 
 BT -WILLIAM AlTD MABT EO\VTTT. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " English readers have long been indebted to Mr. and Mrs. Howitt. They 
 have now increased our obligations by presenting us with this most charming and 
 valuable work, by means of which the great majority of the reading public will 
 be, for the first time, made acquainted with the rich stores of intellectual wealth 
 long garnered in the literature and beautiful romance of Northern Europe. 
 From the famous Edda, whose origin is lost in antiquity, down to the novels of 
 Miss Bremer and Baroness Knorring, the prose and poetic writings of Denmark, 
 Norway, Sweden, and Iceland are here introduced to us in a manner at once 
 singularly comprehensive and concise. It is no dry enumeration of names, but 
 the very marrow and spirit of the various works displayed before us. We have 
 old ballads and fairy tales, always fascinating ; we have scenes from plays, and 
 selections from the poets, with most attractive biographies of great men. The 
 songs and ballads are translated with exquisite poetic beauty." — Sun. 
 
 " A book full of information — and as such, a welcome addition to our literature. 
 The translations — especially of some of the ballads and other poems — are exe- 
 cuted with spirit and taste." — Athenaum.
 
 HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 MEMOIES AND CORRESPONDENCE OE 
 
 MAJOR GENERAL SIR W. NOTT, G.C.B., 
 
 ENVOY AT THE COURT OF LUCKNOW. 
 
 EDITED BY J. H. STOCQUEIiER, ESQ., 
 
 At the request of the Daughters of the hite General, from Private Papers aud 
 Official Documents in their possession. 2 vols. 8vo., with Portrait. 
 
 MILITARY LIFE liN ALGERIA. 
 
 BT THE COUNT P. DE CASTELLAJNTE. 2 vols. 2i3. 
 
 *' We commend this book as really worth perusal. The volumes make us 
 familiarly acquainted with the nature of Algerian experience. Changarnier, 
 Cavaignac, Canrobert, Lamoriciere, and St. Arnaud are bron--' t prominently 
 before the reader." — Examiner. 
 
 " These volumes will be read with extraordinary interest. The vivid manner 
 in which the author narrates his adventures, and the number of personal anecdotes 
 that lie tells, engage the reader's attention in an extraordinary manner." — 
 Sunday Times. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 AN ENGLISH SOLDIER 
 
 IN THE UNITED STATES' ARII\. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " The novelty characterising these interesting volumes is likely to secure them 
 many readers. In the first place, an account of the internal organization, the 
 manners and customs of the United States' Federal Army, is in itself, a novelty, 
 and a still greater novelty is to have this account rendered by a man who had 
 served in the English before joining the American army, and who can give his 
 report after having every opportunity of comparison. The author went through 
 the Mexican campaign with General Scott, and his volumes contain much descrip- 
 tive matter concerning battles, sieges, and marches on Mexican territory, besides 
 their sketches of the normal chronic condition of a United States' soldier in time of 
 peace." — Daily News. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 BRITISH CONQUESTS IN INDIA. 
 
 BY HORACE ST. JOHIT. 2 vols. 21s. 
 " A work of great and permanent historical value and interest." — Post. 
 " The style is graphic and spirited. The facts are well related and artistically 
 grouped. The narrative is always readable and interesting." — Athenceum. 
 
 HISTORY OF CORFU; 
 
 AND OF THE REPUBLIC OF THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 
 
 BY LIEUT. H. J. TV. JERVIS, Eoyal Artmery. 1 vol. 10s. 6d. 
 " Written with great care and research, and including probably all the 
 particulars of any moment in the history of Corfu." — Athen&um.
 
 HURST AND BLACKETt'S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 CLASSIC AND HISTORIC PORTRAITS. 
 
 BT JAMES BRUCE. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 This work comprises Biographies of the following Classic and Historic Per- 
 sonages : — Sappho, iEsop, Pythagoras, Aspasia, Milto, Agesilaus, Socrates, Plato, 
 Alcibiades, Helen of Troy, Alexander the Great, Demetrius Poliorcetes, Scipio 
 Africanus, Sylla, Cleopatra, Julius Csesar, Augustus, Tiberius, Germanicus, 
 Caligula, LoUia Paulina, Cffisonia, Boadicea, Agrippina, Poppaea, Otho, Com- 
 modus, Caracalla, Heliogabalus, Zenobia, JuUan the Apostate, Eudocia, Theodora, 
 Charlemagne, Abelard and Heloise, Ehzabeth of Hungary, Dante, Robert Bruce, 
 Ignez de Castro, Agnes Sorel, Jane Shore, Lucrezia Borgia, Anne Bullen, Diana 
 of Poitiers, Catherine de Medicis, Queen Elizabeth, Mary Queen of Scots, 
 Cervantes, Sir Kenelni Digby, John Sobieski, Anne of Austria, Ninon de 
 I'Enclos, Mile, de Montpensier, the Duchess of Orleans, Madame de Maintenon, 
 Catharine of Russia, and Madame de Staei. 
 
 "A Book which has many merits, most of all, that of a fresh and unhacknied 
 subject. The volumes are the result of a good deal of reading, and have besides 
 an original spirit and flavour about them, which have pleased us much. Mr. 
 Bruce is often eloquent, often humorous, and has a proper appreciation of the 
 wit and sarcasm belonging in abundance to his theme. The variety and amount 
 of information scattered through his volumes entitle them to be generally read, 
 and to be received on all hands with merited favour." — Examiner. 
 
 " We find in these piquant volumes the liberal outpourings of a ripe scholarship, 
 the results of wide and various reading, given in a style and manner at once plea- 
 sant, gossippy and picturesque." — Athenoeum. 
 
 " A series of biographical sketches, remarkable for their truth and fidelity. The 
 work is one which will please the classical scholar and the student of history, 
 while it also contains entertaining and instructive matter for the general reader." 
 — Literary Gazette, 
 
 RULE AND MISRULE OF 
 
 THE ENGLISH IN AMERICA. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " SAM SLICK," 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " We conceive this work to be by far the most valuable and important Judge 
 Haliburton has ever written. While teeming with interest, moral and historical, 
 to the general reader, it equally constitutes a philosophical study for the poUtician 
 and statesman. It will be found to let in a flood of light upon the actual origin, 
 formation, and progress of the republic of the United States." — N. and M. Gaz. 
 
 THE SONG OF ROLAND, 
 
 AS CHANTED BEFORE THE BATTLE OE HASTINGS, 
 
 BY THE MINSTREL TAILLEFER. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY THE AUTHOR OP "EMILIA ^WYNDHAM." 
 
 Small 4to., handsomely bound, gilt edges, 5s. 
 
 "'The Song of Roland' is well worth general perusal. It is spirited and 
 descriptive, and gives an important, and, no doubt, faithful picture of the cliivahric 
 manners and feelings of the age." — Herald.
 
 HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 THE JOURNALS AND CORKESPONDENCE OP 
 
 GENERAL SIR HARRT CALVERT, 
 
 BART., G.C.B. and G.C.H., 
 
 ADJUTANT-GENERAL OF THE FORCES UNDER H.R.H. THE DUKK OF YORK. 
 
 COMPRISING THE CAMPAIGNS IN FLANDERS AND HOLLAND IN 1793-94; 
 
 WITH AN APPENDIX CONTAINING HIS 
 
 PLANS FOR THE DEFENCE OF THE COUNTRY IN CASE OF INVASION. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SOW, SIR HARRY VERNEY, BART. 
 
 1 vol. royal 8vo., with large maps, 14s. bound. 
 
 " Both the journals and letters of Capt. Calvert are full of interest. The 
 letters, in particular, are entitled to much praise. Isot too long, easy, graceful, 
 not without wit, and everywhere marked by good sense and good taste — the 
 series addressed by Capt. Calvert to his sister are literaiy compositions of no 
 common order. With the best means of observing the progress of the war, and 
 with his faculties of judgment exercised and strengthened by experience — a quick 
 eye, a placid temper, and a natural aptitude for language rendered Capt. Calvert 
 in many respects a model of a military critic. Sir Harry Verney has performed 
 his duties of editor very well. The book is creditable to all parties concerned in 
 its production." — Athenoium. 
 
 COLONEL LANDMANN'S ADVENTURES 
 
 AND RECOLLECTIONS. 2 vols. 2ls. 
 
 "Among the anecdotes in this work will be found notices of King George III., 
 the Dukes of Kent, Cumberland, Cambridge, Clarence, and Richmond, the Princess 
 Augusta, General Garth, Sir Harry Mildmay, Lord Charles Somerset, Lord Edward 
 Fitzgerald, Lord Heathfield, Captain Grose, &c. The volumes abound in inte- 
 resting matter. The anecdotes are one and all amusing." — Observer. 
 
 " These * Adventures and Recollections' are those of a gentleman whose birth 
 and profession gave him facilities of access to distinguished society. Colonel 
 Landmann writes so agreeably that we have little doubt that his volumes will be 
 acceptable." — Athenceum. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF 
 
 TPIE CON NAUGHT RANGERS. 
 
 SECOND SERIES. 
 BY "WILLIAM GRATTAW, ESQ., 
 
 LATE LIEUTENANT CONNAUGHT RANGERS. 2 VOls. 2l3. 
 
 " In this second series of the adventures of this famous regiment, the author 
 extends his narrative from the first formation of the gallant 88th up to the 
 occupation of Paris. All the battles, sieges, and skirmishes, in which the regi- 
 ment took part, are described. The volumes are interwoven with original anec- 
 dotes that give a freshness and spirit to the whole. The stories, and the sketches 
 of society and manners, with the anecdotes of the celebrities of the time, are told 
 in an agreeable and unaffected manner. The work bears all the characteristics 
 of a soldier's straightforward and entertaining narrative." — Sunday Times.
 
 10 HURST AND BLACKETT's NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE MASVELS OF SCIENCE,; 
 
 AND THEIR TESTIMONY TO HOLY WRIT ; | 
 
 A POPULAR MANU^\X OF THE SCIENCES. 
 
 BT S. TV. PULLOM, ESQ. 
 
 DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO THE KING OF HAKOVER. 
 
 Seventh Edition, with Numerous Illcstsatioxs. Post 8vo. 7s. 6d. 
 
 " This work treats of the whole origin of nature in an intelligent style ; it puts 
 into the hands of every man the means of information on facts the most sublime, 
 and converts into interesting and eloquent description problems wiiich once 
 perplexed the whole genius of mankind. We congratulate the author on his 
 research, his information, and his graceful and happy language." — Britannia. 
 
 " The sldll displayed in the treatment of the sciences is not the least marvel in 
 the volume. The reasonings of the author are forcible, fluently expressed, and 
 calculated to make a deep impression. Genuine service has been done to the 
 cause of Revelation by the issue of such a book, which is more than a mere 
 literary triumph. It is a good action." — Glohe. 
 
 " Its tone is grave, grand, and argumentative, and rises to the majesty of poetry. 
 As a commentary upon the stupendous facts which exist in the universe, it is 
 truly a work which merits our admiration, and we unhesitatingly refer our readers 
 to its fascinating pages." — Dispatch. 
 
 "Without parading the elaborate nature of his personal investigations, the 
 author has laid hold of the discoveries in every department of natural science in 
 a manner to be apprehended by the meanest understanding, but which will at the 
 same time command the attention of the scholar." — Messenger. 
 
 " A grand tour of the sciences. Mr. Fullom starts from the Sun, nins round 
 by the Planets, noticing Comets as he goes, and puts up for a rest at the Central 
 Sun. He gets into the Milky Way, which brings him to the Fixed Stars and 
 Nebulffi. He munches the crust of the Earth, and looks over Fossil Animals and 
 Plants. This is followed by a disquisition on the science of the Scriptures. He 
 then comes back to the origin of the Earth, visits the Magnetic Poles, gets 
 among Thunder and Lightning, makes the acquaintance of Magnetism and Elec- 
 tricity, dips into Rivers, draws science from Springs, goes into Volcanoes, through 
 which he is drawn into a knot of Earthquakes, comes to the surface with Gaseous 
 Emanations, and sliding down a Landslip, renews his journey on a ray of Light, 
 goes through a Prism, sees a I'^Iirage, meets with the Flying Dutchman, observes 
 an Optical lUusion, steps over the Rainbow, enjoys a dance with the Northern 
 Aurora, takes a little Polarized Light, boils some Water, sets a Steam-Engine in 
 motion, witnesses the expansion of Metals, looks at the Thermometer, and 
 refreshes himself with Ice. Soon he is at Sea, examining the Tides, tumbling 
 on the Waves, swimming, diring, and ascertaining the pressm-e of Fluids. We 
 TT,o6i i>5i« «a-s:t \n the Aif, ruunlug tlirougii all its properties. Ha^•ing remarked 
 on the propagation of Sounds, he pauses for a bit of ^lusic, and goes off into the 
 Vegetable Kingdom, then travels through the Animal Kingdom, and having 
 visited the various races of the human family, winds up with a demonstration of 
 the Anatomy of Man." — Examiner.
 
 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 11 
 
 NARRATIVE OF A 
 
 JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD 
 
 COMPKISING 
 
 A WINTER PASSAGE ACROSS THE ANDES TO CHILI, 
 
 WITH A VISIT TO THE GOLD REGIONS OF CALIFORNIA AND AUSTRALIA, 
 THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS, JAVA, &C. 
 
 BY P. GEKSTAECKEK. 
 3 vols, post 8vo. 31s. 6d. 
 
 " Starting from Bremen for California, the author of this Narrative proceeded 
 to Rio, and thence to Buenos Ayrcs, where he exchanged the wild seas for the 
 yet wilder Pampas, and made his v.ay on horseback to Valparaiso across the 
 Cordilleras — a winter passage full of difficulty and danger. From Valparaiso 
 he sailed to California, and visited San Francisco, Sacramento, and the mining 
 districts generally. Thence he steered his course to the South Sea Islands, 
 resting at Honolulu, Tahiti, and other gems of the sea in that quarter, and from 
 thence to Sydney, marching through the Murray Valley, and inspecting the 
 Adelaide district. From Australia he dashed onward to Java, riding through the 
 interior, and taking a general survey of Batavia, with a glance at Japan and the 
 Japanese. An active, intelligent, observant man, the notes he made of his adven- 
 tures are full of variety and interest. His descriptions of places and persons are 
 lively, and his remarks on natural productions and the phenomena of earth, sea, 
 and sky are always sensible, and made with a view to practical results. Those 
 portions of the Narrative which refer to California and Australia are replete with 
 vivid sketches ; and indeed the whole work abounds with living and picturesque 
 descriptions of men, manners, and localities." — Globe. 
 
 " The author of this comprehensive narrative embarked at Bremen for Cali- 
 fornia, and then took ship to the South Sea Islands, of vfhich and of their inhabit- 
 ants v.-e have some pleasant sketches. From the South Sea Islands he sailed to 
 Australia, where he effected a very daring and adventurous journey by himself 
 through the Murray Valley to Adelaide. He then proceeded to Java, the interior 
 of which he explored to a considerable distance. Before he departed for Europe, 
 he remained some time at Batavia, and was so fortunate as to witness the arrival 
 of the Japanese vessel bringing her annual cargo of goods from Japan. Inde- 
 pendently of great variety — for these pages are never monotonous or dull — a 
 pleasant freshness pervades Mr. Gerstaecker's chequered nan-ative. It offers much 
 to interest, and conveys much valuable information, set forth in a very lucid and 
 graphic manner." — Athenamm. 
 
 " These travels consisted principally in a * winter passage across the Andes to 
 Chili, with a visit to the gold regions of California and Australia, the South Sea 
 Islands, Java, &c.' In the present state of things and position of affairs, no more 
 desirable book can be imagined. It carries us at once to the centre of attractions 
 — it conveys us to the land of promise to expectant thousands. We behold, face 
 to face, the mighty regions where so many of our countrymen have gone, that 
 it seems almost a second home. We are informed, in minute details of the life 
 that is led there. There is no false glitter thrown over the accounts ; the author 
 evidently strives to raise no false hopes, and excite.no unreasonable expectations. 
 The accounts given of California are particularly explicit. The description of 
 Sydney during the excitement prevaihng on the discovery of new mines is very 
 interestin g. ' ' — Sun.
 
 12 HURST AND BLACKETT's NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 AUSTRALIA AS IT IS: 
 
 ITS SETTLEMENTS, FARMS, AND GOLD FIELDS. 
 BY F. LAlSrCEIiOTT, ESQ., 
 
 MIKERALOGICAL SURVEYOR IN THE AUSTRALIAN COLONIES. 
 
 Second Edition, revised. 2 vols, post 8vo. 2 Is. 
 
 " This is an unadorned account of the actual condition in which these colonies 
 are found by a professional surveyor and mineralogist, who goes over the ground 
 with a careful glance and a remarkable aptitude for seizing on the practical por- 
 tions of the subject. On the climate, the vegetation, and the agricultural 
 resources of the country, he is copious in the extreme, and to the intending 
 emigrant an invaluable instructor. As may be expected from a scientific hand, 
 the subject of gold digging undergoes a thorough manipulation. Mr. Lancelott 
 dwells with minuteness on the several indications, stratifications, varieties of soil, 
 and methods of working, experience has pointed out, and oifers a perfect manual 
 of the new craft to the adventurous settler. Nor has he neglected to provide 
 him with information as to the sea voyage and all its accessories, the commodities 
 most in request at the antipodes, and a general view of social wants, family 
 management, &c,, such as a shrewd and observant counsellor, aided by old 
 resident authorities, can afford. As a guide to the auriferous regions, as well as 
 the pastoral solitudes of Australia, the work is unsurpassed." — Globe. 
 
 "This is the best book on the new El Dorado ; the best, not only in respect to 
 matter, style, and arrangement, in all of which merits it excels, but eminently 
 the best because the latest, and the work of a man professionally conversant with 
 those circumstances which are charming hundreds of thousands annually to the 
 great Southern Continent. The last twenty years have been prolific of works 
 upon Australia, but they are all now obsolete. Every one who takes an interest 
 in Austraha would do well to possess himself of Mr. Lancelott's work, which 
 tehs everything of the social state, of the physiology, and the precious mineralogy 
 of the gold country." — Standard. 
 
 " We advise all about to emigrate to take this book as a counsellor and com- 
 panion." — Lloyd's Weekly Paper. 
 
 A LADY'S VISIT TO THE GOLD DIGGINGS 
 
 OF AUSTRALIA IN 1852-3. 
 
 BY MKS. CHARLES CLACY. 1 vol. 10s. 6d. 
 
 " The most pithy and entertaining of all the books that have been written on 
 the gold diggings." — Literati/ Gazette. 
 
 " Mrs. Clacy's book will be read with considerable interest, and not without 
 profit. Her statements and advice will be most useful among her own sex." — 
 Athencsum. 
 
 " Mrs. Clacy tells her stor\' well. Her book is the most graphic account of the 
 diggings and the gold country in general that is to be had." — Daili/ News. 
 
 " One of the best guides to Australian emigrants yet issued." — Messenger. 
 
 " Wo recommend this work as the emigrant's vade mecum," — Home Companion.
 
 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 13 
 
 A SKETCHER'S TOUR 
 
 ROUND THE WORLD. 
 
 BY ROBERT EL^WES, ESQ. 
 
 Second EDiTioy, 1 vol. royal 8yo., with 21 Coloured Illustrations from Original 
 Designs by the Author. 21s. elegantly bound, gilt edges. 
 
 " Combining in itself the best quahties of a hbrary volume, vrith that of a gift- 
 book, is Mr. Elwes' ' Sketcher's Tour.' It is an unaffected, well-written record 
 of a tour of some 36,000 miles, and is accompanied by a number of very beautiful 
 tinted hthographs, executed by the author. These, as well as the literary 
 sketches in the volume, deal most largely with Southern and Spanish America, — 
 whence the reader is afterwards taken by Lima to the Sandwich Islands, is carried 
 to and fro among the strange and exciting scenes of the Pacific, — thence sails to 
 the Austrahan coast, — passes to China, — afterwards to Singapore and Bombay, — 
 and so home by Egypt and Italy. The book is pleasantly written throughout, 
 and with the picturesque variety that cannot but belong to the description of a 
 succession of such scenes, is also full of interesting and instructive remarks." — 
 Examiner. 
 
 " This is a dehghtful book. Mr. Elwes, in his Tour through America, Aus- 
 tralia, India, China, Tm-key, Egypt, and Europe, has chosen the grandest and the 
 most beautiful scenery for the exercise of his pencil. To the illustrations he has 
 added descriptions so vivid that his pen makes the work of the pencil almost 
 unnecessary. It is hard to say to what class of works the book must be assigned. 
 The beauty of the engravings, and the handsome getting-up, make it an extremely 
 elegant book for the table of the drawing-room. The abundance of lively 
 remarks and anecdotes, and the extent and variety of information, make it an 
 equally admirable book of learning and amusement." — Standard. 
 
 " The garment in which this book comes forth seems to point out the drawing- 
 room table as its place of destination. The nature of its contents — cheerful, 
 lively letter-press — will assure it a ready welcome there. Yet it is not, therefore, 
 inehgible for the librarv^ shelf — even for that shelf which is devoted to ' Voyages 
 Round the World.' Pleasanter reading, we repeat, need not be offered than our 
 sketcher brings." — AthencBum. 
 
 " In every respect a most charming volume, abounding with exquisite coloured 
 engravings — an elegant gift-book for the season." — Messenger. 
 
 A TOUR OF INQUIRY 
 
 THROUGH FRANCE AND ITALY, 
 
 ILLUSTSiTIXG THIIB PKBSXNT 
 
 SOCIAL, POLITICAL, AND RELIGIOUS CONDITION. 
 
 BY EDMUND SPEWCER, ESQ., 
 
 Author of " Travels in European Turkey," " Circassia," &c. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " Mr. Spencer has travelled through France and Italy, with the eyes and feelings 
 of a Protestant philosopher. His volumes contain much valuable matter, many 
 judicious remarks, and a great deal of useful information." — Morning Chro- 
 nicle.
 
 14 HURST AND BLACKETT'S NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 TRAVELS IN EUROPEAN TURKEY : 
 
 THROUGH BOSNIA, SERVIA, BULGARIA, MACEDONIA, ROUMELIA, ALBANIA, AND 
 EPIRUS ; WITH A VISIT TO GREECE AND THE IONIAN ISLES, AND A HOME- 
 WARD TOUR THROUGH HUNGARY AND THE SCLAVONIAN PROVINCES 
 OF AUSTRIA ON THE LOWER DANUBE. 
 
 BY EDMUND SPENCEE, ESQ., 
 
 Author of " Travels in Circassia," &c. 
 
 Second and Cheaper Edition, in 2 vols. 8vo. with Illustrations, and a valuable 
 
 Map of European Turkey, from the most recent Chai-ts in the possession of 
 
 the Austrian and Turkish Governments, revised by the Author, 18s. 
 
 " These important volumes appear at an opportune moment, as they describe 
 some of those countries to which public attention is now more particularly 
 directed : Turkey, Greece, Hungary, and Austria. The author has given us a 
 most interesting picture of the Turkish Empire, its weaknesses, and the em- 
 barrassments from which it is now suffering, its financial difficulties, the discon- 
 tent of its Christian, and the turbulence of a great portion of its ]\Iohammedan 
 subjects. We are also introduced for the first time to the warlike mountaineers 
 of Bosnia, Albania, Upper ^Moesia, and the almost inaccessible districts of the 
 Pindus and the Balkan. The different nationalities of that Babel-like country, 
 Turkey in Europe, inhabited by Sclavonians, Greeks, Albanians, Macedonians, 
 the Romani and Osmauli — their various characteristics, religions, superstitions, 
 together with their singular customs and manners, their ancient and contem- 
 porary history are \-ividly described. The Ionian Islands, Greece, Hungary, and 
 the Sclavonian Provinces of Austria on the Lower Danube, are all delineated in 
 the author's happiest manner. We cordially recommend Mr. Spencer's valuable 
 and interesting volumes to the attention of the reader." — U. S. Magazine. 
 
 " This interesting work contains by far the most complete, the most en- 
 lightened, and the most reliable amount of what has been hitherto almost the 
 terra incognita of European Turkey, and supplies the reader with abundance of 
 entertainment as well as instruction." — John Bitll. 
 
 ARCTIC MISCELLANIES, 
 
 A SOUVENIR OF THE LATE POLAR SEARCH. 
 BY THE OFFICEBS AITD SEAMEN OE THE EXPEDITION. 
 
 DEDICATED BY PERMISSION TO THE LORDS OF THE ADMIRALTY. 
 
 Second Edition. 1 vol. with numerous Illustrations, 10s. 6d. 
 
 From the " Times." — This volume is not the least interesting or instructive 
 among the records of the late expedition in search of Sir John Franklin, com- 
 manded by Captain Austin. The most valuable portions of the book are those 
 which relate to the scientific and practical observations made in the course of the 
 expedition, and the descriptions of scenery and incidents of arctic travel. From 
 the variety of the materials, and the novelty of the scenes and incidents to which 
 they refer, no less than the interest which attaches to all that relates to the 
 probable safety of Sir John Franklin and his companions, the Arctic Miscellanies 
 forms a very readable book, and one that redounds to the honour of the national 
 character.
 
 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 15 
 
 THE ANSYEEEH AND ISMAELEEH: 
 
 A VISIT TO THE SECRET SECTS OF NORTHERN SYRIA, 
 
 WITH A VIEW TO THE ESTABLISHMENT OF SCHOOLS. 
 
 BY THE REV. S. LYDE, M.A., 
 
 Late Chaplain at Beyrout. 1 vol. 10s. 6d. 
 
 " Mr. Lyde's pages furnish a very good illustration of the present state of some 
 of the least known parts of Syria. Mr. Lyde visited the most important districts 
 of the AnsjTeeh, lived with them, and conversed with their sheiks or chief men. 
 The practical aim of the author gives his volumes an interest which works of 
 greater pretension want." — AihencBum. 
 
 " By far the best account of the country and !he people that has been presented 
 by any traveller." — Critic. 
 
 TRAVELS IN INDIA AND KASHMIR. 
 
 BY BABON SCHOITBEEa. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " This account of a Journey through India and Kashmir will be read with 
 considerable interest. WTiatever came in his way worthy of record the author 
 committed to writing, and the result is an entertaining and instructive miscellany 
 of information on the country, its climate, its natural productions, its history and 
 antiquities, and the character, the religion, and the social condition of its inhabi- 
 tants. The remarks on these various topics possess additional interest as the 
 author views India and our rule over that country with the eye of an impartial 
 observer." — John Bull. 
 
 KHARTOUM AND THE NILES. 
 
 BY GEOBGE MEIiLY, ESQ. 
 
 Second Edition. 2 v. post 8vo., with ilap and Illustrations, 21s. 
 
 " Mr. Melly is of the same school of travel as the author of ' Eothen.' His 
 book altogether is very agreeable, comprising, besides the description of Khartoum, 
 many intelhgent illustrations of the relations now subsisting between the Govern- 
 ments of the Sultan and the Pacha, and exceedingly graphic sketches of Cairo, 
 the P^Tamids, the Plain of Thebes, the Cataracts, &c." — Examiner. 
 
 ATLANTIC & TRANSATLANTIC SKETCHES. 
 
 BY CAPTAIN MACKIlSriTOlSr, B.K". 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " Captain Mackinnon's sketches of America are of a striking character and 
 permanent value. His volumes convey a just impression of the United States, a 
 fair and candid view of their society and institutions, so well written and so 
 entertaining that the effect of their perusal on the public here must be con- 
 siderable. They are light, animated, and lively, full of racy sketches, pictures of 
 life, anecdotes of society, visits to remarkable men and famous places, sporting 
 episodes, &c., very original and interesting." — Sunday Times.
 
 16 HURST AND BLACKETT's NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 REVELATIONS OE SIBERIA. 
 
 BY A BANISHED LADY. 
 Third and Cheaper Edition. 2 vols. 16s. 
 
 " A thoroughly good book. It cannot be read by too many people." — Dickens's 
 Household Words. 
 
 " The authoress of these volumes was a lady of quality, who, having incurred 
 the displeasure of the Russian Government for a political offence, was exiled to 
 Siberia. The place of her exile was Berezov, the most northern part of this 
 northern penal settlement ; and in it she spent about two years, not unprofitably, 
 as the reader will find by her interesting work, containing a lively and graphic 
 picture of the country, the people, their manners and customs, &c. The book 
 gives a most important and valuable insight into the economy of what has been 
 hitherto the terra incognita of Russian despotism." — Daily News. 
 
 " Since the publication of the famous romance the ' Exiles of Siberia,' of 
 Madame Cottin, we have had no account of these desolate lands more attractive 
 than the present work, from the pen of the Lady Eve Felinska, which, in its un- 
 pretending style and truthful simplicity, will win its way to the reader's heart, 
 and compel him to sympathise ■v^ith the fair sufferer. The series of hardships 
 endured in traversing these frozen solitudes is affectingly told ; and once settled 
 down at one of the most northern points of the convict territory, Berezov, six 
 hundred miles beyond Tobolsk, the Author exhibits an observant eye for the 
 natural phenomena of those latitudes, as well as the habits of the semi-barbarous 
 aborigines. This portion of the book will be found by the naturalist as well as 
 ethnologist full of valuable information." — Globe. 
 
 '' These 'Revelations' give us a novel and interesting sketch of Siberian life — the 
 
 habits, morals, manners, religious tenets, rites, and festivals of the inhabitants. The 
 
 writer's extraordinary powers of observation, and the graceful facility with which 
 
 « edescribes everything worthy of remark, render her ' Revelations' as attractive 
 
 cfascinating as they are original and instructive." — Britannia. 
 
 FOREST LIFE IN CEYLON. 
 
 BY "W. KNIGHTON, M.A., 
 
 ^ttrraerly Secretary to the Ceylon Branch Royal Asiatic Society. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " A very clever and amusing book, by one who has lived as a planter and 
 journaUst many years in Ceylon. The work is filled with interesting accounts of 
 the sports, resources, productions, scenery, and traditions of the island. The 
 sporting adventures are narrated in a very spirited manner." — Standard. 
 
 EIGHT YEARS 
 IN PALESTINE, SYRIA, AND ASIA MINOR. 
 
 BY F. A. NEAL, E3^., 
 
 LATE ATTACHED TO THE CONSULAR SERVICE IN SYRIA. 
 
 Second Edition, 2 vols., with Illustrations, 21s. 
 " A very agreeable book. Mr. Neale is evidently quite familiar with the 
 East, and writes in a lively, shrewd, and good-humoured manner. A great 
 deal of information is to be found in his pages." — Athenmtm.
 
 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 17 
 
 TRAVELS IN BOLIVIA; 
 
 WITH A TOUR ACROSS THE PAMPAS TO BUENOS AYRES, &c. 
 BY L. HUGH DE BONELLI. 
 
 OF HER BRITANNIC MAJESTy's LEGATION. 2 VOls. 21s. 
 
 EIGHTEEN YEARS ON THE 
 
 GOLD COAST OF AFRICA; 
 
 INCLUDING AN ACCOUNT OF THE NATIVE TRIBES, AND THEIR 
 
 INTERCOURSE WITH EUROPEANS. 
 
 BY BRODIE CRUICKSHANK:, 
 
 MEMBER OF THB LEGISLATIVE COUNCIL, CAPE COAST CASTLE. 2 VOls. 21s. 
 
 " This is one of the most interesting works that ever yet came into our hands. 
 It possesses the charm of introducing us to habits and manners of the human 
 family of which before we had no conception. Before reading Mr. Cruickshank's 
 volumes we were wholly unaware of the ignorance of all Europeans, as to the 
 social state of the inhabitants of Western Africa, Mrs. Beccher Stowe's work 
 has, indeed, made us all familiar with the degree of intelligence and the disposi- 
 tions of the transplanted African ; but it has been reserved to Mr. Cruickshank 
 to exhibit the children of Ham in then: original state, and to prove, as his work 
 proves to demonstration, that, by the extension of a knowledge of the Gospel, and 
 by that only, can the African be brought witliin the pale of civiUzation. We 
 anxiously desire to direct public attention to a work so valuable. An incidental 
 episode in the work is an affecting narrative of the death of the gifted Letitia 
 Elizabeth Landon (L.E.L.), written a few months after her marriage with 
 Governor ilaclean. It relieves the memory of both husband and wife from all 
 the vile scandals that have been too long permitted to defile their story." — 
 Standard. 
 
 " This work will be read with deep interest, and will give a fresh impulse to 
 the exertions of philanthropy and religion." — John Bull. 
 
 LIFE IN SWEDEN, 
 
 WITH EXCURSION'S IN NORWAY AND DENMARK. 
 BY SELINA BUNBTTBY. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " The author of this clever work never misses a lively sketch. Her descriptions 
 of life in Sweden and Norway are all piquant, and most of them instructive, 
 illustrating northern hfe in all its phases, from the palace to the cottage. The 
 work is well calculated to excite in the English pubhc a desire to visit^ scenes 
 ■which have as yet been exposed to the view of few travellers." — Daily News. 
 
 " Two dehghtful, well-informed volumes, by a lady of much acuteness, lively 
 imagination, and shrewd obser%-ance. The work can be safely recommended to 
 the reader, as the freshest, and most certainly the truthfuUest publication upon 
 the North that has of late years been given to the world." — Observer.
 
 18 HURST AND BLACKETT S NEW PUBLICATIONS 
 
 NARRATIVE OF A 
 
 FIVE YEAUS' EE8IDENCB AT NEPAUL. 
 
 BIT CAPTAIN THOMAS SMITH, 
 
 Late Assistant PoAtical-Resident at Nepaul.. 2 v. post 8vo. 21s. 
 
 "No man could be better qualified to describe Nepaul than Captain Smith; 
 and his concise, but clear and graphic account of its history, its natural produc- 
 tions, its laws and customs, and the character of its -warlike inhabitants, is very 
 agreeable and instructive reading. A separate chapter, not the least entertaining 
 in the book, is devoted to anecdotes of the Nepaulese mission, of whom, and of 
 their visit to Europe, many remarkable stories are told." — Post. 
 
 CANADA AS IT WAS, IS, AMD MAY BE. 
 
 By the late Lieutenant-Colonel Sir R. Bonnycastle. 
 
 With an Account of Recent Transactions, 
 
 BY SIR J. E. ALEXANDEB, K.L.S., &c. 2 v. witli Maps, &c. 21s. 
 
 " These volumes offer to the British public a clear and trustworthy statement 
 of the affairs of Canada, and the effects of the immense public wo^-ks in progress 
 and completed ; with sketches of localities and scenery, amusing anecdotes of 
 personal observation, and generally every information which, may be of use to the 
 traveller or settler, and the military and political reader. The information ren- 
 dered is to be thoroughly relied on as veracious, full, and conclusive." — Mes- 
 senger. 
 
 FIVE YEAES IN THE WEST INDIES. 
 
 3Y CHARIiES ^W. DAY, ESQ. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " It would be unjust to deny the vigour, brilliancy, and vaiied interest of this 
 work, the abundant stores of anecdote and interest, and the copious detail of 
 local habits and pecuharities in each island visited in succession." — Globe. 
 
 SCENES FROM SCRIPTURE. 
 
 BY THE BEV. G. CBOLY, LL.D. 10s. 6d. 
 
 " Eminent in every mode of literature, Dr. Croly stands, in our judgment, first 
 among the living poets of Great Britain — the only man of our day entitled by his 
 power to venture within the sacred circle of religious poets." — Standard. 
 
 "An admirable addition to the library of religious families." — John Bull. 
 
 THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A MISSIONARY. 
 
 BY THE BEV. J. P. FLETCHEB, 
 
 Curate of South Hampstead. Author of " A Residence at Nineveh." 2 v. 21s. 
 
 " A graphic sketch of missionary life." — Examiner. 
 
 " "NVe conscientiously recommend this book, as w^ell for its amusing character 
 as for the spirit it displays of earnest piety." — Standard.
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT's NEW PUBLICATIONS. 19 
 
 FAMILY ROMANCE; 
 
 OR, DOiMESTIC ANNALS OF THE ARISTOCEACY. 
 BY SIB BEBIMABD BUBKE, irister King of Arms. 2 vols., 21s. 
 
 Among the many other interesting legends and romantic family histories com- 
 prised in these volumes, will be found the following: — The wonderful narrative 
 of Maria Stella, Lady Newborougb, who claimed on such strong evidence to be a 
 Princess of the House of Orleans, and disputed the identity of Louis Philippe — 
 The story of the humble marriage of the beautiful Countess of Strathmore, and 
 the suflferiugs and fate of her only child — The Leaders of Fashion, from Gramont 
 to D'Orsaj' — The rise of the celebrated Baron Ward, now Prime ]\Iinister at 
 Parma — The curious claim to the Earldom of Crawford — The Strange Vicissitudes 
 of our Great Families, replete with the most romantic details — The story of the 
 Kirkpatricks of Closeburn (the ancestors of the French Empress), and the re- 
 markable tradition associated with them — The Legend of the Lambtons — The 
 verification in our own time of the famous prediction as to the Earls of Mar — 
 Lady Ogilvy's escape — The Beresford and Wynyard ghost stories, correctly told — 
 &c., &c. 
 
 " It were impossible to praise too highly as a work of amusement these two most 
 interesting volumes, whether we should have regard to its excellent plan or its 
 not less excellent execution. The volumes are just what ought to be found on 
 every drawing-room table. Here you have nearly fifty captivating romances, with 
 the pith of all their interest preserved in undiminished poignancy, and any one 
 may be read in half an houi-. It is not the least of their merits that the 
 romances are founded on fact — or what, at least, has been handed down for truth 
 by long tradition — and the romance of reality far exceeds the romance of fiction. 
 Each story is told in the clear, unaffected style with which the author's former 
 works have made the public familiar, while they afford evidence of the value, 
 even to a work of amusement, of that historical and genealogical learning that 
 may justly be expected of the author of 'The Peerage.' The aristocracy and 
 gentry owe, indeed, a great debt to Mr. Burke as their family historian." — 
 Standard. 
 
 " The very reading for sea-side or fire-side in our hours of idleness." — Athe- 
 nceum. 
 
 SPAIN AS IT IS. 
 
 BTG. A. EOSKINS, ESQ. 2 vols. 21s. 
 
 " To the tourist this work will prove invaluable. It is the most complete and 
 interesting portraiture of Spain that has ever come under our notice." — John Bull. 
 
 NAVAL ARCHITECTURE: 
 
 A TREATISE ON SHIP-BUILDING, AND THE RIG OF CLIPPERS, 
 
 WITH SUGGESTIONS FOB. A NEW METHOD OF LAYING DOWN VESSELS. 
 
 BY liOED BOBEBT MONTAGU, A.M. 
 
 Second Edition, with 54 Diagrams. 6s. 
 
 " Lord Montagu's work will be equally valuable to the ship-builder and the 
 ship-owner — to the mariner and the commander of yachts." — U. S. Magazine.
 
 20 HURST AND BLACKETT's NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 SAM SLICK'S WISE SAWS 
 AND MODEM INSTANCES; 
 
 OR, WHAT HE SAID, DID, OR INVENTED. 
 
 Second Edition. 2 toIs. post 8vo. 21s. 
 
 " We do not fear to predict that these delightful volumes will he the n\ost- 
 popular, as, beyond doubt, they are the best of all Judge Haliburton's admirable 
 works. The ' Wise Saws and Modern Instances' evince powers of imagination 
 and expression far beyond what even his former publications could lead any one 
 to ascribe to the author. We have, it is true, long been familiar with his quaint 
 humour and racy narrative, but the volumes before us take a loftier range, and 
 are so rich in fun and good sense, that to offer an extract as a sample would be 
 an injustice to author and reader. It is one of the pleasantest books we ever 
 read, and we earnestly recommend it." — Standard. 
 
 " Let Sam Slick go a mackarel fishing, or to court in England — let him venture 
 alone among a tribe of the sauciest single women that ever banded themselves 
 together in electric chain to turn tables or to mystify man — our hero always 
 manages to come off with flying colours — to beat every craftsman in the cunning 
 of his own calling — to get at the heart of every maid's and matron's secret. 
 The book before us will be read and laughed over. Its quaint and racy dialect 
 will please some readers — its abundance of yarns will amuse others. There is 
 something in the volumes to suit readers of every humour." — Athenceum. 
 
 *' The humour of Sam Slick is inexhaustible. He is ever and everywhere a 
 welcome visitor ; smiles greet his approach, and wit and wisdom hang upon his 
 tongue. The present is altogether a most edifying production, remarkable alike 
 for its racy humour, its sound philosophy, the felicity of its illustrations, and the 
 delicacy of its satire. Whether he is making love to Sophy, or chatting with the 
 President about EngUsh men and manners, or telling ghost stories, or indulging in 
 day-dreams, or sketching the characters of Yankee skippers, or poaching in our 
 fisheries, or enticing a British man-of-war on to a sand-bar, he is equally delightful ; 
 charming us by the graphic vivacity and picturesque quaintness of his descriptions, 
 and, above all, by his straightforward honesty and truth. We promise our 
 readers a great treat from the perusal of these ' Wise Saws and Modern Instances,' 
 which contain a world of practical wisdom, and a treasury of the richest fun." — 
 Morjiing Post. 
 
 " As a work embodying the cynicism of Rochefoucault, with the acuteness of 
 Pascal, and the experience of Theophrastus or La Bruyere, it may be said that, 
 except Don Quixote, the present work has no rival." — Observer. 
 
 TRAITS OF AMERICAN HUMOUR. 
 
 EDITED BT THE AUTHOR OF " SAM SLICK:." 3 vols. 31s. 6d. 
 
 "We have seldom met with a work more rich in fun or more generally 
 delightful."— 5^anr/ar^/. 
 
 " No man has done more than the facetious Judge Halibm-ton, through the 
 mouth of the inimitable ' Sam,' to make the old parent country recognise and 
 appreciate her queer transatlantic progeny. His present collection of comic 
 stories and laughable traits is a budget of fun full of rich specimens of American 
 humour." — Globe.
 
 WORKS OF FICTION. 21 
 
 FLORENCE, THE BEAUTIFUL, 
 
 BY A. BAILLI33 COCHBANE, ESQ. 2 vols. 
 
 THE ROSES. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOK OF " THE ELIBT," &c. 3 vols. 
 
 *' The 'author of ' The Flirt' is ever welcome as a writer. * The Roses' is a 
 novel which cannot fail to charm." — Observer. 
 
 ♦' * The Roses' displays, with the polish always attending a later work, all the 
 talent which appeared in ' The FHrt,' and ' The Manoeuvring Mother.' It is a 
 book which no one would lay down unfinished." — Standard. 
 
 " In this charming novel the author has brought out the female character in 
 three weU-chosen contrasts. The whole tale is a history of sweet and tender 
 hearts to which the reader cannot refuse his sympathy." — John Bull. 
 
 ELECTRA : A STORY OF MODERN TIMES. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF " BOCKINGHAM." 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY LORD GERALD FITZGERALD. SECOND EDITION. 3 V. 
 
 From the Times. — " The author of ' Rockingham' holds always a vigorous 
 pen. It is impossible to deny him the happy faculty of telling a pleasing story 
 with ability and power. His characters are the flesh and blood we meet in our 
 daily walks ; their language is natural, appropriate, and to the purpose. AYe are 
 bound to extend our highest praise to the skill with which the several characters 
 in ' Electra' are pourtrayed, and with which the interest of the story is sustained 
 to the very last chapter. Lady Glenarlowe and her daughter, Lord Glenarlowe 
 and Electra, are all finely-drawn pictures, and are full of touches by a master 
 hand." 
 
 AILIEFORD: A FAMILY HISTORY, 
 
 BY THE AUTHOB OF " JOHN DEAYTOW." 3 v. 
 
 " A work abounding in fascination of an irresistible kind." — Observer. 
 '* A most charming and absorbing story." — C^-itic. 
 " The book throughout excites the interest of reality." — Spectator. 
 " ' Aiheford' is the biography of the clever writer of * John Drayton.' 
 deeply interesting tale." — Britannia. 
 
 CHARLES AUCHESTER. 
 
 DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HON. B. DISRAELI. 3 VOls. 
 
 " The author has originality and a strong imagination." — Times. 
 
 " Music has never had so glowing an advocate as the author of these volumes. 
 There is an amazing deal of ability displayed in them." — Herald. 
 
 " The life of an enthusiast in music, by himself. The work is full of talent. 
 The sketches of the masters and artists are life-like. In Seraphael all will recog- 
 nize Mendelssohn, and in Miss Benette, Miss Lawrence, and Anastase, Berlioz, 
 Jenny Lind, and another well-known to artist life, wiU be easily detected. To 
 every one who cares for music, the volumes will prove a dehghtful study." — 
 Britannia.
 
 22 HURST AND BLACKETTS NEW PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 HARRY M U I R; 
 
 A STORY OF SCOTTISH LIFE. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOE OF "MAEGASET MAITLAND." 
 Second Edition'. 3 vols, post 8vo. • 
 
 " "We prefer ' Harry Muir' to most of the Scottisli novels that have appeared 
 smce Gait's domestic stories. This new tale, hy the author of ' Margaret Maitland,' 
 is a real picture of the weakness of man's nature and the depths of woman's kind- 
 ness. The narrative, to repeat our praise, is not one to be entered on or parted 
 from without our regard for its writer being increased." — Athenceum. 
 
 " A picture of life, everywhere genuine in feeling, perfect in expression." — 
 Examiner. 
 
 " This is incomparably the best of the author's works. In it the brilliant 
 promise afforded by * Margaret Maitland' has been fully realised, and now there 
 can be no question that, for graphic pictures of Scottish life, the author is 
 entitled to be ranked second to none among modern writers of fiction." — Cale- 
 donian Mercury. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 ADAM GRAEME 
 
 OF MOSSGRAY. 
 
 Second Edition. 3 vols. 
 
 " A story awakening genuine emotions of 
 interest and delight by its admirable pictures 
 of Scottish life and scenery." — Pout. 
 
 CALEB FIELD. 
 
 A TALE OF THE PURITANS. 
 
 Cheaper Edition. 1 v. 6s. 
 
 "This beautiful production is every way 
 worthy of its author's reputation in the 
 very first rank of contemporary writers." — 
 Standard. 
 
 MEIEN; OB, THE MEECHANT PRINCE. 
 
 B-2- ELIOT WABBUBTOSr. Second Edition. 3 vols. 
 
 " The scheme for the colonization of Darien by Scotchmen, and the opening 
 of a communication between the East and West across the Isthmus of Panama, 
 furnishes the foundation of this story, which is in all respects worthy of the 
 high reputation which the author of the * Crescent and the Cross' had already 
 made for himself. The early history of the ]\ierchant Prince introduces the 
 reader to the condition of Spain under the Inquisition ; the portraitures of 
 Scottisli life which occupy a prominent place in the narrative, are full of spirit ; 
 the scenes in America exhibit the state of the natives of the new world at that 
 period ; the daring deeds of the Buccaneers supply a most romantic element in 
 the story ; and an additional interest is infused into it by the introduction of 
 various celebrated characters of the period, such as LaAv, the French financier, 
 and Paterson, the founder of the Bank of England. All these varied ingredients 
 are treated with that brilliancy of style and powerful descriptive talent, by which 
 the pen of Eliot Warburton was so eminently distinguished." — John Bull. 
 
 THE FIRST LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 
 
 B-S- LADT CATHABIITE LOK"G. 3 vols. 
 " As a tracing of the workings of human passion and principle, the book is fidl 
 of exquisite beauty, delicacy, and tenderness." — Daily News.
 
 WORKS OF FICTION. 
 
 23 
 
 REGINALD LYLE. 
 
 BY MISS PARDOE. 3 v. 
 
 HIGH AND LOW; 
 
 OR, LIFE'S CHANCES AND CHANGES. 
 
 BY THE HON. HENRY COKE. 3 t. 
 
 THE YOUNG HEIHSSS. 
 BY MRS. TROLLOPE. 3 v. 
 
 " The knowledge of the world which Mrs- 
 Trollope possesses in so eminent a degree is 
 strongly exhibited in the pages ot this 
 novel." — Observer. 
 
 The DEAN'S DAUGHTER, 
 
 OR, THE DAYS WE LIVE IN. 
 
 BY MRS. GORE. 3 v. 
 " One of the best of Mrs. Gore's stories. 
 The volumes are strewed with smart and 
 sparkling epigram." — Morning Chronicle. 
 
 CASTLE AVON. 
 
 By the Author of 
 " EMILIA WYNDHAM," &c. 3 v. 
 "One of the most successful of the au- 
 thor's works." — Post. 
 
 L AD Y MARION. 
 BY MRS. W. FOSTER. 3 v. 
 
 '• This fascinating novel needs not the 
 attraction of the name of the late Duke of 
 Wellington's niece upon the title-page to 
 commend it to the novel readers of the 
 fashionable world. The work gives evidence 
 of talent of no common order." — John Bull. 
 
 THE LONGWOODS 
 
 OP THE GRANGE. 
 
 By the Author of 
 "ADELAIDE LINDSAY." 3 v. 
 
 " * The Longwoods' are a family group, in 
 the story of whose life romance readers will 
 find a charm and an interest similar to that 
 which attends the annals of the ♦ Vicar of 
 Wakefield.' " — Daily News. 
 
 UNCLE WALTER. 
 
 BY MRS. TROLLOPE, 3 v. 
 
 "'Uncle Walter' is an exceedingly enter- 
 taining novel. It assures Mrs. Trollope more 
 than ever in her position as one of the ablest 
 fiction writers of the day." — Morning Post. 
 
 ALICE WENTWORTH. 
 
 "A novel of exciting interest."— Pos^. 
 
 THE KINNEARS. 
 
 A SCOTTISH STORY. 3 v. 
 
 " We heartily commend this story to the 
 attention of our readers for its power, sim- 
 plicity, and truth. None can read its impres- 
 sive record without interest, and few without 
 improvement." — Morning Post. 
 
 BROOMHILL ; 
 
 OR, THE COUNTY BEAUTIES. 
 
 " ' Broomhiir is a tale of life in polite 
 society. The dialogue is easy — the interest 
 is well susta\aed."—Athen(eum. 
 
 MARY SEAHAM. 
 BY MRS. GREY, 
 Author of " The Gambler's Wife." 3 v. 
 " Equal to any former novel by its author." 
 — Athenaeum. 
 
 ANNETTE. A Tale. 
 BY W. F. DEACON. 
 With a Memoir of the Author, bv the 
 Hon. Sir T. N. Talfourd, D.C.L.* 3 v. 
 •'•Annette' is a stirring tale. The 
 prefatory memoir by Sir Thomas Talfourd 
 would be at all times interesting, nor the less 
 so for containing two long letters from Sir 
 Walter Scott to Mr. Deacon, full of gentle 
 far-thinking wisdom." — Examiner. 
 
 CONFESSIONS OF AN 
 
 ETONIAN. 
 
 BY C. ROWCROFT, ESQ. 3 v. 
 
 "The life of an Etonian — his {wanks, his 
 follies, his loves, his fortunes, and misfor- 
 tunes — is here amusingly drawn and happily 
 coloured by an accomplished artist. The 
 work is full of anecdote and lively painting 
 of men and manners." — Globe. 
 
 THE BELLII OF THE 
 VILLAGE. 
 
 Bv the Author of 
 
 "An admirable story. It may take its 
 place by the side of 'The Old English Gen- 
 tleman.'" — John Bull. 
 
 The LADY and the PRIEST. 
 
 BY MRS. MABERLY. 3 t.
 
 THE ARMY AND NAVY. 
 
 Published on the 1st of every Month, Price 3s. 6d. 
 
 COLBURN'g UNITED SERVICE MAGAZINE, 
 
 AND 
 
 NAVAL AND MILITARY JOURNAL. 
 
 This popular periodical, which has now been established a quarter of 
 a century, embraces subjects of such extensive variety and powerful 
 interest as must render it scarcely less acceptable to readers in general 
 than to the members of those professions for whose use it is more par- 
 ticularly intended. Independently of a succession of Original Papers 
 on innumerable interesting subjects, Personal Narratives, Historical 
 Incidents, Correspondence, &c., each number comprises Biographical 
 Memoirs of Eminent Officers of all branches of service, Reviews of New 
 Publications, either immediately relating to the Army or Navy, or in- 
 volving subjects of utility or interest to the members of either. Full 
 Reports of Trials by Courts Martial, Distribution of the Army and Navy, 
 General Orders, Circulars, Promotions, Appointments, Births, Marriages, 
 Obituary, &c., with all the Naval and Military Intelligence of the Month. 
 
 " This is confessedly cue of the ablest and most attractive periodicals of which 
 the British press can boast, presenting a wide field of entertainment to the 
 general as well as professional reader. The suggestions for the benefit of the 
 two services are distinguished by vigour of sense, acute and practical observation, 
 an ardent love of discipline, tempered by a high sense of justice, honour, and a 
 tender regard for the welfare and comfort of our soldiers and seamen." — Globe. 
 
 " At the head of those periodicals ^\hich furnish useful and valuable information 
 to their peculiar classes of readers, as well as amusement to the general body of 
 the public, must be placed the ' United Service Magazine, and Naval and Military 
 Journal.' It numbers among its contributors almost all those gallant spirits who 
 have done no less honour to their country by their swords than by their pens, 
 and a])ounds with the most interesting discussions on naval and military affairs, 
 and stirring narratives of deeds of arms in all parts of the world. Even.' informa- 
 tion of value and interest to both the Services is culled with the greatest diligence 
 from every available source, and the correspondence of various distinguished 
 officers which enrich its pages is a feature of great attraction. In short, the 
 ' United Service Magazine' can be recommended to every reader who possesses 
 that attachment to his country which should make him look with the deepest 
 interest on its naval and military resources." — Sun. 
 
 " This truly national periodical is always full of the most valuable matter for 
 professional men." — Morning Herald. 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 13, GREAT MAllLBOROUGH STREET.