LI E) R.AFLY 
 
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 UNIVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
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 V. 
 
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 Dedicated, by permission, to Her RoyaJ Highness the Duchess of 
 
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 IN ONE SMALL VOLUME, BOUND IN SILK, WITH COLOURED PLATES, 
 
 SIXTH EDITION, REVISED, 
 
 BY 
 
 THE EDITOR OF "THE FORGET ME NOT." 
 
 THE LANGUAGE OF FLOWERS. 
 
 By all those token-flowers that tell 
 
 What words can never speak so well."— Byron. 
 
 When Nature laughs out in all the triuinph of spring, it may be said, without 
 a metaphor, that in her thousand varieties of flowers, we see the sweetest of her 
 smiles ; that through them, we comprehend the exultation of her joys ; and that 
 by them she wafts her songs of thanksgiving to the heaven above her, which re- 
 pays her tribute of gratitude Mith looks of love. Yes, flowers have their lan- 
 guage. Theirs is an oratory that speaks in perfumed silence ; and there is ten- 
 derness, and passion, and even the light-heartedness of mirth, in the variegated 
 beauty of their vocabularj'. To the poetical mind, they are not mute to each other ; to 
 the pious, they are not mute to the Creator ; and our's shall be the office, in this 
 little volume, to translate their pleasing language, and to show that no spoken 
 word can approach to the delicacy of sentiment to be inferred from a flower sea- 
 sonably offered ; that the softest impressions may be thus conveyed without offence, 
 and even profound grief alleviated, at a moment when the most tuneful voice 
 would grate harshly on the ear, and when the stricken soul can be soothed only 
 by unbroken silence. 
 
 In treating of so gay a subject, we will not make a parade of our learning, to 
 tell our fair readers what fine things Pliny has said upon it ; or, in the spirit of 
 prosing, write a crabbed treatise upon the Egyptian hieroglyphics. "We will 
 even spare them a dissertation upon the floral Alphabet of the effeminate Chinese ; 
 they had, and have, their flowers and their feelings, their emblems and their 
 ecstacies. — Let them enjoy them. — We shall do no more than rove through the 
 European Garden, to cull its beauties, to arrange them into odoriferous signifi- 
 cance, and to teach our refined and purifying science to those fair beings, the 
 symbols of whose mortal beauty are but inadequately found in the most glorious 
 flowers, and whose mental charms cannot be duly typified till we have reached 
 those abodes where reigns everlasting spring, and where decay is unknown. 
 
 But little study will be requisite for the science which we teach. Nature has 
 been before us. We must, however, premise two or three rules. When a fiower 
 is presented in its natural position, the sentiment is to be understood affirmatively; 
 when reversed, negatively. For instance, a rose-bud, with its leaves and thorns, 
 indicates/enr with hofe ; but, if reversed, it must be construed as saying, "you 
 may neither fear nor hope.'' Again, divest the same rose-bud of its thorns,, and 
 it permits the most sanguine hope ; deprive it of its petals, and retain the thorns, 
 and the worst fears may be entertained. The expression of every flower may be 
 thus varied by varying its state or position. The marigold is emblematical of 
 pain ; place it on the head, and it signifies trouble of mind; on the heart, the 
 pangs of love ; on the bosom, the disgusts of ennui. The pronoun / is expressed 
 by inclining the symbol to the right, and the pronoun thou, by inclining it to the 
 left. 
 
 These are a few of the rudiments of our significant language. We call upon 
 Friendship and Love to unite their discoveries with our's ; for it is in the power 
 only of these sweetest sentiments of our nature to bring to perfection what they 
 have so beautifully invented, the mystical, yet pleasing, links of intelligence, that 
 bind soul to soul, in the tender and quiet harmony of the one, or in the more 
 impassioned felicity of the other. — Preface to the Language of Flowers. 
 
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 MAX WENTWOETH.
 
 uiiA^.
 
 MAX WENTWORTH 
 
 " Les hommes sout la cause que les femmes ne s'aiment 
 pas." — La Bruyere. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 
 
 1839.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 BLATCH AND LAM PERT, PRINTERS, GROVE PLACE, EROMPTOX.
 
 8S.5 
 
 tA45L5 
 v.n. 
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ** In the hero of this tale thou wilt find neither a 
 majestic demi-god, nor a fascinatirg demon," 
 
 BULWER. 
 
 On a fine evening, early in summer, the setting 
 rays of the sun were gleaming redly upon the 
 western front of AVentworth Court, an ancient 
 mansion, built after the stateliest manner of the 
 Elizabethan style of architectui-e. The low 
 grounds of the park and domains were akeady 
 invested "with a transparent purple mist ; while, 
 beyond the rich woods and sloping meadows, 
 the sea spread its broad sui'face of glittering 
 light, Regardless of the respectful admonitions 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 of an aged domestic as to tlie lateness of the 
 hour, the master of the venerable edifice conti- 
 nued pacing to and fro upon the elevated terrace 
 walk, until his attention was at length compelled 
 by the more forcible expostulations of his com- 
 panion, the apothecary from the neighbouring 
 town, whose diminutive stature scarcely allowed 
 of his keeping pace with the long and measured 
 steps of his patron. 
 
 " There goes the evening gun. Sir Arthur !" 
 he exclaimed, as the heavy report boomed along 
 the waters. " Really, I cannot be answerable 
 for the consequences of this imprudence ! 
 There is nothing so deleterious to the invalid 
 as exposure to the evening dews, just at sunset, 
 and after the heat of such a day as this has 
 been." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Tatnall," said Sir Arthur, turn- 
 ing as he gained the extremity of the terrace, 
 and retracing his steps towards the mansion; 
 " I believe it will be prudent to follow your ad- 
 vice, and retreat within doors before a twinge of
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 3 
 
 rheumatism comes as a forerunner of all tlie 
 evils prophesied by Ambrose's upbraiding coun-- 
 tenance. Come, Nero," he continued, address- 
 ing the old mastiff which had been attending 
 liis side, with demeanour almost as dignified as 
 his own, — " we \vill go in, old fellow, since it 
 must be so ; though much I could have wished 
 to welcome my brother's daughters to my heart 
 and home, wliile there was yet dayhght enough 
 remaining to display to them theh own futiu'e 
 abode, and the hereditary dweUing of their 
 family." 
 
 ^' Upon my word. Sir Arthur, this is an occa- 
 sion for congi-atulation both to the neighbour- 
 hood and yoiu'self," remarked the polite Mr. 
 Tatnall, in his most courtly phi'ase. ^^ AVitli 
 two such fah and accomphshcd nurses as the 
 Miss Wentworths at hand, you will be able to 
 dispense equally "^^dth Ambrose's warnings and 
 my prescriptions." 
 
 " I do, indeed, look forward to my nieces' 
 arrival with pleasant anticipations of the change 
 
 b2
 
 4 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 to be thereby effected in my now forlorn abode/' 
 good-humouredly returned Sir Arthur, pausing 
 as he entered the door which the old butler 
 officiously held open. " It will gladden me to hear 
 the sounds of youthful mirth and cheerfulness 
 once more, within the halls which, of late, have 
 served only as the desolate lair of a solitary old 
 man. Nevertheless, for nurses, Mr. Tatnall, I 
 will none of these giiis ! Kinder advisers, more 
 careful attendants than I have already, no man 
 needs ; and since the death of their maternal 
 aunt fitly consigns my brother Charles's orphans 
 to my care, I will strive to provide more seemly 
 entertainment for their youth and light hearts 
 than watching by the couch of querulous age !" 
 The reply of IMr. Tatnall, which would pro- 
 bably have tended to deprecate epithets certainly 
 inappropriate to the benevolent speaker, was 
 prevented by the now audible sound of carriage 
 wheels. Having caught sight of the approach- 
 ing equipage, as it emerged from the shade of the 
 neighbouring plantations, Sir Arthur hastened
 
 MAX WE>'TWORTH. 5 
 
 through the hall to the principal enti-ance, 
 where, standing beneath the proudly escut- 
 cheoned arms of his house, he received and 
 folded, in a fatherly embrace, the two beautiful 
 young women, who were henceforth to regard 
 him as their nearest relative and protector. 
 
 Urged to its livehest pace, the apothecary's 
 pony was not long in convejing him to the gate 
 of the Rectory House of Comerford, where, 
 within the old-fashioned wainscotted drawing- 
 room, had been assembled a large and sociable 
 party, to which cii'cumstances seemed to render 
 Mr. Tatnall no unwelcome addition. 
 
 " Better late than never, Mr. Tatnall !" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Lambert, the good-hmnom-ed and 
 hospitable ^Yi£e of the worthy rector. '* I 
 thought you would not fail us, and, therefore, 
 desired Peter to keep yoiu' tea ready for you. 
 We are all most anxious, I assure you, to hear 
 how you left our good neighbour. Sir Ai'thur, 
 and what your opinion is of the new comers ;
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 for^ of course, you waited to see the Miss 
 "Wentworths ?" 
 
 " Poor gii'ls ! a mournful lot is theirs/' sighed 
 a languishing little woman, very fancifully 
 attired, addressing a tall, fooKsh-looking young 
 man, who stood leaning against the wall near 
 her. " It is cruel, in any case, to seek a 
 stranger -home ; and then the gloom of that 
 ancient fabric, so oppressive to the spirits, with 
 the grey -haired domestics, and the aged uncle, 
 probably morose as well as infirm ! I used to 
 pity poor Mr. Wentworth — how much more his 
 helpless cousins. Man has external resources, 
 but woman none !" — and the fair speaker closed, 
 as she spoke, the bright blue eyes that seemed 
 incHned to sparkle more than might have been 
 in unison vdth the owner's sentimentahties. 
 
 " Really, Mrs. Mortimer," returned Mrs. 
 Lambert, openly laughing, " I do not think you 
 \vill find any one to agree with you in this 
 commiseration of the Miss "Wentworths. Since 
 they were to lose their parents, poor things, in
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. V 
 
 their infancy, and latterly their aiint^ — Avho, 
 however, from all accounts, was not the kind of 
 person to win much upon young people's affec- 
 tion, — I should like to know what more ehgible 
 home could possibly offer than that now open to 
 them at Wentworth Coiu't ?" 
 
 /^ Upon my word, my dear madam," com- 
 menced Mr. Tatnall, who was busily engaged in 
 the discussion of his tea and muffin, at the 
 small table ai'ranged for liis use by the attentive 
 Peter ; " it strikes me that more than the young 
 ladies in question will be gainers by their 
 residence among us, for Sir Aithui* talks of 
 turning over a new leaf on the occasion ; and, 
 from what was mentioned to me confidentially 
 of liis intentions, I venttu'e to predict a retui*n 
 of the good old days of open house -keeping at 
 the Coiu't, in honoui* of its new and charming 
 inmates." 
 
 " So they are charming, then, Tatnall ?" 
 cried Doctor Lambert, fr-om liis whist-table. 
 " That is precisely what I have been waiting
 
 8 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 for an opportunity of enquiring. The ladies of 
 the "Wentworth family have been famed for their 
 beauty from time immemorial ; and I shall be 
 happy to find that my friend's nieces do not, in 
 any respect, fall short of their predecessors." 
 
 " It may be doubted whether the ladies pre- 
 sent will all fully coincide in the doctor's 
 wishes," remarked Mr. Mortimer, his antagonist 
 at the whist-table, a middle-aged man of no 
 great personal or intellectual endowments, and 
 collector of the customs at the neighbouring 
 port. '^ What say Miss Louisa and Miss Maria ? 
 Are they willing to yield the palm to these un- 
 known damsels, or to confess that, knowing 
 men's hearts to be slippery ware, they consider 
 this couple of fresh divinities a most undesirable 
 importation ?" 
 
 " Nay, my dear sir, suppose that I, as well 
 as my daughters, plead guilty to youi* accusation, 
 though not from the motive you would mis- 
 chievously ascribe to them," said his partner, 
 Mrs. Severn, a fine -looking woman, remarkable
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. V 
 
 for the sua^-ity of her voice and maimer. 
 " We are sorry to see Su- Ai'thiu' put the seal 
 to his nephew's banishment, by adopting these 
 new inmates in his place. But ]\Ir. T\'ent«'orth 
 was always so gi'eat a favourite with Mr. Severn 
 and mvsclf, and was looked upon so completely 
 as a brother by my girls, that ^^e can scarcely 
 be expected to regard with complacency those 
 who come among us avowedly as his sup- 
 planters." 
 
 " Let us hope for better things, my good 
 Madam," said the Doctor, wishing to efface the 
 impression evidently made by her speech upon 
 his wife and several of the pai'ty. " There is 
 no injustice done to Maximilian in the protec- 
 tion which Sir Arthur, as in dut}- bound, 
 extends to liis orphan nieces. I rejoice ^^^ith 
 ^Ir. Tatnall, at the benefit then* society is likely 
 to prove to their uncle, whose disposition is 
 ILL calculated for sohtude ; and see no reason 
 for doubting theii' readiness to assist in heahng 
 the breach unhappily subsisting between Sir 
 
 b5
 
 10 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Arthur and their cousin. There is no aid, we 
 all know, so efficacious as a female's on such 
 occasions. Meanwhile I intend no disservice 
 to my friend Maximilian when I say that a 
 little tribulation will probably do him no harm, 
 and that his uncle's displeasure, though exces- 
 sive, is not altogether unmerited." 
 
 " Take my word for it, all will go right at 
 last," added Mrs. Lambert ; " Max is a fine 
 fellow, only too wild. He will have more than 
 enough of that where he is, and we shall see 
 him come home presently to take his proper 
 place as his uncle's heir, and marry IMiss Went- 
 worth." 
 
 " Heavens, Mrs. Lambert !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Mortimer, excited out of her usual affected 
 languor. " I wonder you do not think there 
 is something very shocking in cousins marrying, 
 and you a clergyman's wife too !" 
 
 " Right, Matilda !" cried her husband. " I 
 agree with you in thinking that the rare qua- 
 lities of the Wentworths ought not to be kept
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 11 
 
 wholly in tlicii' o-v^-n line. But we liave as yet 
 heard notliing of Tatnall's o^^ti opinion, foimded 
 on recent personal inspection of the goddesses 
 just after their descent. Come, man ! describe 
 — describe — "What are they hke V 
 
 "Very nice young ladies, indeed !" pronounced 
 the Comerford Galen, rubbing his hands ; " very 
 nice young ladies, especially Miss Isabel, whom 
 I confess I admired most, her appearance being 
 so remarkably dehcate and interesting." 
 
 " Dear, I hope she is not consumptive," said 
 Mrs. Lambert. '• It would be terrible for you 
 to have to attend poor Lady Went^'orth's case 
 over again, ^Ir. Tatnall. But how did they 
 look altogether ? — dressy, stj-lish gu'ls, or what ? 
 Isabel, you say, is pale and sickly, and by her 
 age, she can hardly be more than a child ; but 
 her sister must have been out several years, 
 though to be sure, hi Yorkshu-e, and with that 
 proud Mrs. Audley Stapleton, I dare say she has 
 led but a duU life, excepting, perhaps. Lord 
 Lieutenant's days, and Doncaster races, and
 
 12 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Scarborough, and Harrowgate. I remember 
 poor Charles "Wentworth's wedding four and 
 twenty years ago, and he was very handsome, 
 and so was thek mother. It will be a pity if 
 then- daughters should not resemble them." 
 
 '^The dehcacy of Miss Isabel Wentworth's 
 appearance has probably prejudiced Mr. Tatnall 
 too strongly in her favour to allow of his being 
 an impartial judge of her sister's merits ;" said 
 a gentleman who had not yet joined in the con- 
 versation, and who now leaving the station he 
 had hitherto occupied, advanced towards the 
 group of which the apothecary was the 
 centre. "Miss Wentworth's manner certainly 
 would denote her more accustomed to society 
 than you, Mrs. Lambert, have imagined ; but it 
 is captivating enough, joined with her extra- 
 ordinary beauty, to induce a hope in whoever 
 has seen her that she may have escaped the 
 faihngs usually attendant on the quahties most 
 irresistibly calling forth our admii'ation and 
 flattery."
 
 MAX WEXTWOUTH. 13 
 
 " Well, Mr. Walsingliam, I am glad to hear 
 you can speak out sometimes !" facetiously 
 exclaimed Mrs. Lambert, who seldom disguised 
 any of her sentiments. " I don't recollect 
 ever haying heard you say as much for any 
 young lady before ; and I assiu-e you, we all 
 are doubly desu'ous to see the one who has been 
 able to make such an impression." 
 
 Mr. "Walsingham's reply, if he intended any, 
 was prevented by Mr. Tatnall, who, getting 
 alertly on his legs, and with a profound bow, 
 hastened to explain away any untoward mis- 
 take. ^' Certainly, Sir, you have hit to a nicety 
 just what I was going to observe respecting 
 the elder Miss Wentworth, who, indeed, is no 
 comparison a finer woman than her sister ; 
 although, as I was sapng, looking sickly does 
 make one take more interest in a person, even 
 while spoiling, of course, all pretensions to 
 beaut}^" 
 
 " Pardon me. Sir, if I again differ from you, 
 in thinking Miss Isabel Wentworth very lovely.
 
 14 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 Mrs. Lambert, you will allow me to wish you 
 good evening ; — I have a long ride before me. 
 Thank you, my horse is at the door :" and, re- 
 sisting his hostess's multifarious proffers of cu- 
 ra9oa, milk punch, sandwiches and jellies, Mr. 
 Walsingham withdrew. 
 
 Scarcely could Mrs. Lambert wait till the 
 door closed behind him, before she broke forth 
 with, " Well, really now, I am quite delighted ! 
 Only think of Mr. Walsingham at last ! — and how 
 pleasant it will be, to have a young bride at 
 Marchwood ! You need not laugh, Mr. Mor- 
 timer ; I see it all as plainly as possible. The 
 other sister will do quite as well for Mr. Went- 
 worth, you know, and Mr. Walsingham is such 
 a very particular friend of Sh Arthur's, that 
 there can be no doubt of his overlooking his 
 want of wealth in favour of his high family, and 
 strong Tory principles ; while even Lady Cla- 
 rence Walsingham's pride cannot object to her 
 son's repairing his embarrassments, by marrying 
 a Wentworth."
 
 MAX WEXTWOKTH. 15 
 
 " But you have forgotten, my dear ]\L's. Lam- 
 bert^ in your very rapid conclusions, that Miss 
 Wentworth, although Sir Arthur's niece, will 
 not, we hope, be his heiress^ while !Mr. Went- 
 worth Hves ; and that such a match as you are 
 anticipating Avould, therefore^, be a most impru- 
 dent one on both sides;" said Mrs. Severn, T\-ith 
 scarcely her usual placidity'. "Mr. "Walsing- 
 ham, I own, was never a favourite of mine, and 
 his circumstances are so deeply involved, as to 
 render him but an indifferent parti for any 
 young lady, even of the most moderate expec- 
 tations." 
 
 " This Miss Wentworth promises to be a most 
 distressing female — she aheady possesses my 
 unmitigated aversion !" remarked the tall, fool- 
 ish looking young man. as he reluctantly qiutted 
 his position against the wall, in obedience to a 
 sign from IVIrs. Severn, on her carriage being 
 announced. " If Walsingham be in earnest, I 
 pity him ! — an animated woman always makes 
 me shudder. The delicious repose — the oriental
 
 16 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 langour essential to my idea of true feminine 
 loveliness, is wholly incompatible with the per- 
 petual restlessness and fatiguing mobihty of 
 affected intellectuahty ! " 
 
 " Ah, we shall hear a different story after you 
 have seen these young ladies, Mr. Augustus ! " 
 said Mrs. Lambert, shaking hands with hun, as 
 he left the room to follow his mother, whom 
 Dr. Lambert was conducting through the hall. 
 " Well, Mrs. Mortimer," she continued, " I 
 mean to go tomorrow morning to pay my re- 
 spects at the Court, and there will be a place in 
 the carriage for you, if you like, since the Doc- 
 tor, of coui'se, will ride his pony ; and I \vill 
 tell Robert to drive round by the quay, and 
 take you up." 
 
 This neighbourly offer was accepted with due 
 acknowledgment, and the general separation of 
 the party now taking place, its members were 
 soon proceeding towards their various localities 
 within the borough of Comerford.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " I had brought sorrow on his grey hairs down, 
 And cast the darkness of my branded name, 
 (For so he deemed it) on the clear renown. 
 My own ancestral heritage of fame." 
 
 Hem AN s. 
 
 " And this is Wentrrorth Com-t !" said Meli- 
 cent Wentworth, as she stood gazing from the 
 terrace where, on the preceding evening. Sir 
 Ai'thur had so impatiently awaited the arrival of 
 his nieces ; " this is the home which you once 
 described to me so \ividly, Mr. "Walsingham, 
 and for which Isabel and I have so often longed 
 to exchange oiu* uninteresting Yorkshire resi- 
 dence. All that you told us of its beauties, fell 
 short of the gloT^ing brilliancy of this landscape, 
 — the bright green woods, bold rocks, and spark-
 
 18 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 ling ocean, so different to the monotonous sce- 
 nery to whicli we have been accustomed I" 
 
 Mr. Walsingham looked with admiration at 
 the beautiful and intelligent countenance of his 
 companion. " I do not wonder at your feel- 
 ings/' he replied ; " Wentworth Court, with 
 its antique splendours, has been an object of 
 veneration to me from boyhood. To-day, how- 
 ever, it has assumed a far more cheerful aspect 
 than I have lately seen it wear. The solitary 
 life led for the last two years by Sir Arthur, has 
 seemed as uncongenial to these scenes, as I be- 
 heve it to be to his kind and social disposition ; 
 and hall, and bower, serving-men and lord, ap- 
 pear alike to smile in welcome of those whose 
 presence has at once dispelled their gloom." 
 
 " Sir Arthur does ah'eady seem fond of Isa- 
 bel," said Melicent, glancing affectionately while 
 she spoke towards the spot where her young 
 sister was standing beside their venerable rela- 
 tive. " It was more for her, gentle and timid 
 as she is, than for myself, that I feared the
 
 MAX WE>-T WORTH. 19 
 
 chances awaiting us in our nntried home. We 
 had heard my uncle called proud and stately ; 
 and you cannot imagine, Mr. Walsingham, what 
 we felt last night, on finding ourselves received 
 and welcomed by him with such paternal kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Thank Heaven, they are indeed worthy of 
 the name they bear," said Su* Ai'thui', in his 
 turn addressing "Walsingham, whilst the sisters 
 were caressing his shaggy favoiuite Nero. 
 " They are all that I had imagined Charles's 
 daughters, ^lehcent so frank and noble-look- 
 ing, with the high-forehead, and waging chesnut 
 tresses, which have generally distinguished the 
 females of oiu* family ; and Isabel Hfring towards 
 me eyes that seem stolen fi-om the portrait of 
 her ancestor, Sii* Bevil. We will take them to 
 the picture gallery, Mr. "Walsingham, that they 
 may behold the semblances of their own here- 
 ditary loveliness. It is a good sign, beheve 
 me, that Xero has already become fond of them, 
 for the noble animal would not attach himself
 
 20 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 to any wliose natures were not lofty and gene- 
 rous as liis own." 
 
 With visibly increased dignity and solemnity. 
 Sir Arthur threw open a pair of folding doors, 
 and formally ushered his nieces into a long 
 gallery, where, from the walls on either hand, 
 row above row of mailed warriors, statesmen in 
 long robe and ermine, and goodly dames in 
 wimple and farthingale, looked down upon the 
 youthful scions of their race. " Here," he said, 
 '^ here, at least, there is no degeneracy ; and I 
 may be as justly proud of my Hving nieces as 
 ever was our house of the beauties for which it 
 has been famed. Here, too, may a likeness be 
 found for many of the features which I trace in 
 you both. That gallant knight," continued Sir 
 Arthur, pointmg to a portrait, in whose swarthy 
 lineaments fancy alone could have discovered 
 a Hkeness to the youthful Isabel, " Sir Bevil 
 Wentworth, lost his life in the cause wliich his 
 house had ever espoused. Like a true Went- 
 worth, he drew his sword in defence of his
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 21 
 
 monarcli and of the royal prerogative, and 
 against those Ucentions usurpations of the people, 
 of which he would have refused to credit that 
 one of his name should ever become the advo- 
 cate. He was taken prisoner at the battle of 
 Lansdown, and hanged in revenge for their 
 discomfiture, by the rascally Parhamentarians. 
 His widow. Dame Cicely, of the loyal and 
 honourable house of StaT^ell, when sunmioned 
 before the rebel commissioners on a charge of 
 conceahng royalist stores, rang such a peal of 
 spii'ited contumely in then- ears, that Fairfax is 
 said to have declined taking possession of her 
 house, though known not to be of strength to 
 hold out long, declaring that he dreaded inter- 
 ference ^dth the Lady Wentrworth more than 
 any encounter of the war, and the rebel army 
 accordingly left Wentworth Court untouched." 
 
 " Her daughter Mabel," continued the good 
 baronet, passing on to the pictiu'e of a very 
 beautiful female, " though of a more gentle tem- 
 perament than her mother, still partook so far
 
 99 
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 of the family spirit of loyalty, tliat althougli the 
 suitors for her hand were numerous, she vowed 
 never to bestow herself in marriage, until she 
 should see the king restored to liis rights ; and 
 that blessed event being over long delayed, 
 the fair Lady Mabel retained, to her death, the 
 name of the house of which she is justly re- 
 garded as one of the brightest ornaments." 
 
 The next portrait before which Sir Arthur 
 paused, was that of Su' Richard Wentworth, the 
 son of the doughty cavalier, and his termagant 
 helpmate. " He, too, worthily served his 
 monarch," went on Sir Arthur, " though rather 
 in the council than the field. In return for 
 the 10,000 crowns furnished by him to his 
 sovereign, while in exile, does the royal por- 
 trait, presented by Charles himself after his 
 restoration, now grace the with-drawing-room." 
 
 '^ "We have forgotten everything, but these 
 dear gii'ls, this morning," said Sir Arthur to 
 IMr. Walsingham, after the whole of the pictures 
 had been commented on, and his mind became
 
 MAX WE>TWORTH. 23 
 
 capable of tui'ning to less engrossing occupa- 
 tions. " Let us now leave tliem to recover 
 from their fatigues of yesterday and to-day, 
 wHle I acquaint you with several fresh demands 
 from my tenants, for building ground, on what 
 we recollect to have been a short time since 
 the most improductive part of the Marchwood 
 property-. AVere all modern improvements 
 likely to be as beneficial to my friends as those 
 which are now so greatly increasmg yoiu* 
 revenues, my good neighbour, I think even I 
 should soon become a convert to their expedi- 
 ency." 
 
 The withdrawal of Sir Arthur and Mr. Wal- 
 singham to the hbrar)-, was not immediately 
 followed by that of his nieces, who were interested 
 in taking a longer survey than his presence 
 had permitted, of the admirable portraits by Sir 
 Joshua Eeynolds, of the late Lady AVentworth, 
 and Sir Aitluu' himself. " Has there not been 
 a picture removed from this place ?" Isabel 
 enquhed, pointing to a vacant space next to
 
 24 MAX WE NT WORTH. 
 
 these. Old Ambrose, who had been left in 
 attendance on them, shook his head sorrowfully 
 as he replied, " It is well, my dear young lady, 
 that you asked that question of me, and not of my 
 master, for, ever since Mr. Wentworth so griev- 
 ously offended him. Sir Arthur cannot endure 
 to be in any way reminded of his nephew. His 
 picture, therefore, is gone from its old place ; 
 his favoui'ite horses have been sent away from 
 the park, and we are all forbidden even to men- 
 tion the dear young gentleman's name." 
 
 It was impossible that the Miss Wentworths 
 should not have marvelled at this extraordinary 
 display of resentment, in one who had appeared 
 to them everything that was kind and indulgent ; 
 and, in Isabel's imagination, agreeable visions 
 of romantic interest seemed to connect them- 
 selves with their new residence. " Mr. Went- 
 worth must surely have given my uncle great 
 reason for such serious displeasure," she said 
 to the old servant ; " it appears, nevertheless, 
 that you regret his absence ?"
 
 MAX AVENTWORTH. 2.5 
 
 " Not more than ever^^body aLout the place, 
 young ladies. There was not a soul in the 
 neighbourhood that was not fond of Master 
 Maximilian^ though he never could be kept out 
 of scrapes, and we had no sooner got him free 
 of one than he fell into another. Tliis last, how- 
 ever, was the worst of all ; and then came that 
 terrible going to Spain, which Sfr Arthur de- 
 clares he never will forgive ; and though my 
 master is so free and kind-hearted, he can be 
 hard enough when he thinks right. He has 
 never looked cheerfril, though, till to-day, since 
 that sad morning when Master Maximilian left 
 us ; and to be sure it was a pit}* for liim to go 
 away fr'om those who were all ready to serve 
 him, to where they say he is not wanted, and 
 can do no good worth speaking of." 
 
 How long the lamentations of Ambrose might 
 have lasted, or whether they would have tin-own 
 any greater Kght upon the destiny of the unfor- 
 tunate Mr. AVentworth, cannot be told ; as the * 
 arrival of several morning visitors now obliged 
 
 VOL. I, C
 
 26 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 his auditors to hasten to the drawing-room, 
 where Mrs. Lambert, and others of the neigh- 
 bourhood, were waiting to welcome them into 
 Devonsliire. Leaving them to entertain their 
 guests according to the best of their abihty, we 
 shall accompany Mr. Walsingham on his return 
 to his mother, and their noble but cheerless 
 residence.
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Falstaff. " You have here a goodly dTrelling, and 
 a rich." 
 
 Shallow. "Barren, barren, barren; beggars all; 
 beggars all. Sir John ; — marry, good air." 
 
 Second Part of Henry IV. 
 
 At a period not very remote from the present, 
 the lands of ^rarchwood, belonging to the "VVal- 
 singham family, had extended almost as far as 
 the boundary of the Wentworth Court estate ; 
 whence, indeed, they were only divided bv a 
 narrow shp of wild common, rumiing down be- 
 tween the neighbouring domains to the sea 
 shore. The extravagance of the late Mr. Wal- 
 singham, however, had combined with various 
 untoward family misfortunes, to ahenate a great 
 part of his estates, and to cause the remainder 
 
 c2
 
 28 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 to descend to his son so heavily encumbered, 
 that a long minority, and the careful adminis- 
 tration of his mother, Lady Clarence Walsing- 
 ham, had only partially removed his embarrass- 
 ments ; and, although nominally in possession of 
 what was still one of the largest properties 
 in the county, the present owner of March- 
 wood was with difficulty enabled to keep up the 
 appearance required by his station. His dispo- 
 sition was not one whereon these circumstances 
 could fail in producing an effect ; and the very 
 excess of his pride induced Mr. Walsingham to 
 assume a more accessible demeanour than might 
 otherwdse have been natural to him. " The 
 world akeady marks me as a distressed man; 
 and with it, pride and poverty have long been 
 held as synonymous terms," he would reply to 
 his mother's reproachful wonder at actions she 
 considered as derogatory. " Let me at least 
 have the satisfaction of treading a less beaten 
 path. Your son's estimation of his own claims 
 may not be the less lofty, because he descends
 
 MAX WE^'T^VO"RTH. 29 
 
 not to pretensions that might, by any possibility, 
 be disallowed." 
 
 Mr. "Walsingham was, therefore, an active, 
 and, in many respects, a popular man in his 
 neighboui'hood. The powers of his mind en- 
 forced respect, and gave him weight and autho- 
 rity on public occasions ; while the care he took 
 to veil anv consciousness he mis^ht entertain of 
 his own superiority', prevented the usual ill will 
 on the part of those he outshone. It was ob- 
 servable, however, thatMr.'Walsingham's sphere 
 of populai-ity descended no farther than to the 
 rank immediately below liis own. To his tenants 
 he was a Hberal landlord, and to his domestics 
 not an unkind master ; yet there was no wai-mth 
 of attachment in the eulogiums they could not 
 always refuse to bestow, for the effect of liis 
 benefactions was neutralised by the reserve and 
 indifference of manner which characterised his 
 intercourse with them. His intimate fiiends of 
 his ovm. degree were few in number ; but these 
 were warmly attached to him, even while perhaps
 
 30 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 aware of the defects inherent in his character. 
 Of these friends Sir Arthur Wentworth was one 
 of the oldest ; though, from the natural indul- 
 gence of his disposition, neither the most clear- 
 sighted nor the most rigid of mentors. During 
 the years when Lady Clarence had acted as her 
 son's guardian. Sir Arthur had proved to her a 
 most valuable assistant ; and the lively interest 
 he took in his friend's aifairs caused him to learn 
 with great satisfaction the favourable aspect they 
 had recently assumed. Long standing annuities 
 and leases had, one after another, dropped in ', 
 some after the regular course of years, others 
 unexpectedly ; and accidental circumstances had 
 given a sudden increase of value to lands hitherto 
 yielding only scanty returns, but which now 
 promised, at no distant period, to add several 
 thousands per annum to his revenues. 
 
 Mr. Walsingham rode home, after his con- 
 ference with Sir Arthur, with spirits more elated 
 than was usual to him, and scarcely in accordance
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 31 
 
 with his boasted indifference to the gifts of for- 
 tune. His pace became more leisurely, and his 
 glance less animated, it is true, when, emerging 
 from the thick shade of the Wentworth woods, 
 the road entered upon that wide tract of country 
 once possessed by his ancestors, and which, 
 having now fallen into the hands of speculators, 
 bore in its petty enclosures and unpictiu'esque 
 buildings, a melancholy witness to the presence 
 of the ^ide -reaching genius of modem improve- 
 ment. Presently, however, these irritating 
 objects were left behind : in front and on either 
 hand, all of hill and dale then basking in the 
 broad sunshine was his own ; and though pru- 
 dence had of late compelled the adoption of 
 many ungenial measures, whereby profit had 
 been more consulted than taste, yet hope now 
 looked confidently forward to a date not remote, 
 when all hateful restrictions might be removed, 
 and the Lord of Marchwood surround himself 
 with as jealously kept and aristocratic a demesne 
 as any of his predecessors. " And then," ima-
 
 32 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 gination wHspered, as, at his horse's slowest 
 pace, he began to ascend the last rise in the ill- 
 kept approach, across which were lying the cattle 
 which had assumed the place of the former herds 
 of antlered deer — '^ when these old halls are no 
 longer desolate, and the hand of wealth has 
 imparted comfort and beauty to these neglected 
 scenes, then will not the removal of the fetters that 
 have till now clung round my spirit effect a whole- 
 some change in a nature which has become, in 
 truth, almost too cynical for enjoyment ? May 
 not the consciousness of power and success, by 
 its softening influence, dispose me at length to 
 try the experiment which others have so often 
 proved to be precarious, of seeking happiness in 
 the creation of an idol to be invested with the 
 garniture of one's boyish day-dreams ?" 
 
 Arousing from his reverie, AYalsingham 
 smiled at the length to which he had carried his 
 anticipations ; yet there was a slight flush on his 
 brow, and a somewhat accelerated motion of the 
 pulse, that told of yet further imaginings, and of
 
 MAX WENTAVORTH. 33 
 
 a prophetic intimation that such an idol might 
 quickly have to him more than a visionary 
 existence. 
 
 Marchwood House, the family mansion of the 
 Walsinghams, was situated upon a rising ground 
 that formed the centre of a chain of downs, ex- 
 tending on either hand as far as the sea; and 
 enclosing a semicircular fall of groimd, where, 
 screened from the north and east, rich laA^nis of 
 verdure, thickly interspersed with magnificent 
 clumps of forest trees, shelved down toward the 
 cliff-bound coast, which, lowest immediately in 
 fi-ont of the mansion, allowed the prospect 
 thence, at low water, to include the waves 
 breaking upon the beach. To a spectator, how- 
 ever, whose advance had been by the ordinary 
 approach, the same pursued at present by ^^rlr. 
 Walsingham, the first \iew of the house offered 
 a bleak and dreary appearance, fi-om the scar- 
 city of trees in its immediate vicinity, and the 
 evident deficiency in most of the customary 
 adjuncts of so noble a residence. The building 
 
 c5
 
 34 MAX WENTWORTII. 
 
 itself, of spacious dimensions and heavy archi- 
 tecture, was of a kind requiring the lighter 
 accompaniments alluded to as a rehef to its bare 
 and massive proportions. A Umited space round 
 the edifice was fenced off from the incursions 
 of the cattle allowed to feed in the park ; and 
 passing through the ii-on gate, and avoiding the 
 principal entrance, now seldom used, Mr. Wal- 
 singham, having left his horse with a groom, 
 went round to the side where a less stately 
 portal gave ingress from the garden to his mo- 
 ther's apartments. Here everything wore a 
 far more cheerful asj)ect ; the southern front of 
 the house was that which commanded a view 
 of the sea, and of the intervening woodland de- 
 clivity, and the windows opened upon well- 
 arranged and carefuUy-tended beds of fragrant 
 shrubs and flowers ; while all within and with- 
 out displayed marks of the liberal attention 
 which Mr. Walsingham dehghted in lavishing 
 on everything connected with his mother. The 
 room wherein he now found Lady Clarence, \\'as
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 35 
 
 elegantly and even luxuriously fitted up, in a 
 manner corresponding with habits and tastes 
 refined as those of its occupant. Still a very 
 beautiful woman, and scarcely beyond the 
 prime of life, Lady Clarence bore in counte- 
 nance a striking resemblance to her son, although 
 the features which in AYalsingham were moulded 
 into an expression of pecuHar firmness and de- 
 cision, were in her softened by the phabihty of 
 character which had formerly caused her to bend 
 to the extravagant humoiu* of her husband, 
 though aware that it was unauthorised by the 
 circumstances of the family, and which still 
 suffered her judgment to be constantly over- 
 ruled by the inflexibihty of her son, — towards 
 the promotion of whose welfai-e all her thoughts 
 were directed. 
 
 " I did not expect you so soon, AValsingham," 
 she said, smiling, as her son threw himself on 
 the low chair he had di-awn close beside her's. 
 " I am glad, however, that you are come, as 
 there are several letters for you, wliich may be
 
 36 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 of importance in the business wHch lias been 
 engaging you with Sir Arthur. I have also 
 received one firom my brother, with the contents 
 of which I should wish you to be acquainted." 
 
 Mr. Walsingham opened his letters, and, 
 after a brief perusal, gave them into his mother's 
 hands. They did, as she had supposed, relate 
 to the projected improvements on his estates, 
 and he now also communicated to her the good 
 baronet^s favourable opinion. 
 
 " Your uncle's sentiments fully agree with 
 Sir Arthur's," said Lady Clarence, when her 
 son had finished his detail. " You will see this 
 by his congratulatory expressions, and his hope 
 that you will ere long cease to be restrained by 
 prudential motives from entering upon that 
 arena of public life, for which he considers your 
 talents to be so eminently calculated." 
 
 *^ My uncle is infinitely obhging," replied 
 Walsingham, taking the marquis's letter ft'om 
 his mother, and carelessly surveying its con- 
 tents. " I am in no haste, however, to arrive
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 6 4 
 
 at the period he so kindly prognosticates. In 
 the event of my fortunes undergoing this pros- 
 perous change, there is ample employment be- 
 fore me in the reconstruction and upholding our 
 dilapidated estates, without removing from the 
 sphere which I am convinced opens the greatest 
 chance of happiness, and which I am not ambi- 
 tious enough to exchange for the turmoils and 
 intrigues of pohtical life." 
 
 " This fi.*om you, Walsingham !" exclaimed 
 his mother, ^ith great surprise. " From you 
 who have always appeared to thii'st so eagerly 
 for the pubKc distinctions you are now pleased 
 to rate so hghtly ! How long have you thought 
 it the height of fehcit}- to fill the place of your 
 ownbailiiF or steward, ^vith the occasional re- 
 creation of a Comerford reunion, such as that 
 of last evening." 
 
 AValsingham laughed without any show of 
 embai'rassment as he resumed the perusal of his 
 uncle's letter. " WTiy should I not have in 
 view the species of happiness so forcibly recom-,
 
 38 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 mended by his lordship in the latter part of his 
 weighty epistle, where he is pleased to eulogise 
 me as one capable of gaining the affections of 
 any well-educated young woman ; and entitled 
 by birth, connexions, and family importance, to 
 form the most eligible of alliances !" 
 
 " Do not ridicule joui uncle's affectionate 
 anxiety for your welfare, Walsingham," said 
 Lady Clarence ; " and, believe me, my fondest 
 wishes would be gratified by your marriage, 
 were you indeed to form such a connexion as 
 would effectually promote your felicity. But of 
 this, I own, I despair. I should not wish my 
 son's choice to be otherwise than fastidious ; — 
 birth equal to his own he would of course de- 
 mand, and with fortune his circumstances un- 
 happily will not allow him to dispense. Where 
 are all these advantages to be found united ?" 
 Lady Clarence paused, but her son remaining 
 silent, she continued ; " My brother's expres- 
 sions plainly indicate to me his wishes. Either 
 of his daughters he would, doubtless, gladly
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 39 
 
 match with the heir of the Walsinghams, aheady 
 so nearly allied with him in blood. Their por- 
 tions Avill be thirty thousand pounds each. 
 Gertrude is amiable, and Anne accompHshed." 
 
 " Alas, that they should not more nearly ap- 
 proach the ideal perfection you were lately de- 
 lineating !" said Walsingham, amused at his 
 mother's visible despair of finding any more 
 flattering epithets for the daughters of the Mar- 
 quis of Amisfield. " Let me, at any rate, dis- 
 claim all hope of meeting ^ith such a phoenix as 
 you have imagined, wilhng to bestow herself 
 upon me, and then enqmi-e, whether you have 
 any further commands for me, before my return 
 to Wentworth Coui't to dinner." 
 
 " Only one word, "Walsingham," said liis 
 mother, rising and following him with an anxi- 
 ous countenance to the window, whither he had 
 retreated. "Do not be angry, if I am need- 
 lessly sohcitous concerning one, whose strong 
 mind has ever kept him free from boyish sus- 
 ceptibihties. You have this morning, however.
 
 40 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 uttered sentiments new to me, as coming from 
 you, and wherein I cannot but trace some neAV 
 influence at work. I have not forgotten the 
 impression you appeared to receive upon the 
 occasion of your first meeting with Miss Went- 
 worth, and which her attractions certainly seem- 
 ed to justify. Should Sir Arthur's resentment 
 last, or his nephew, as is very probable, never 
 return to England, she will be a richly portion- 
 ed heiress } but far more than the uncertainty of 
 these prospects, I am inchned to regard as ob- 
 jections, those very fascinations which I acknow- 
 ledge her to possess. I know your disposition 
 too weU, Walsingham, not to be aware, that 
 jealousy is one of its characteristics. You would 
 expect much from the woman you made your 
 wife, and hers would be no easy task. Man- 
 ners Uke Miss Wentworth's would create con- 
 stant dissension between you. Do not, I entreat 
 you, be tempted into committmg yourself rashly." 
 Mr. Walsingham had turned angrily away, 
 and as his mother concluded, he coldly rejoin-
 
 MAX AVE^'TWOIlTH. 41 
 
 ed : " Your cautions^ madam, are most mine- 
 cessaiy, and such as neither my own nature, nor 
 the manners of Miss "Wentworth, appear to me 
 in the smallest degree to warrant. At all events, 
 nothing can at present be less called for. I 
 have scarcely seen that young lady since her 
 arrival in the country; — and will not fail to 
 bear your warnings in mind," he added, in a 
 gentle tone, perceiving the tears his preceding 
 harshness had brought into his mother's eyes. 
 " Forgive me, madam, and doubt not that your 
 son will endeavour in liis choice, to depart as 
 little as possible from the hving standai'd pre- 
 sented by the mother of whom he is so justly 
 proud." 
 
 Lady Clarence repaid her son's affectionate 
 embrace with a smile ; but her countenance re- 
 sumed its anxious expression, as she watched 
 him set forth, on what she continued to deem 
 his dansferous visit to Wentworth Court.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Certe, ils etaient bien \k, les deux beaux jeunes 
 hommes !" Hernani. 
 
 Upon the sea coast, in the opposite direction to 
 Marchwood_, and about a mile and a half distant 
 from Wentworth Court, the small town or vil- 
 lage of Comerford lies at the head of an estuary, 
 into which flows one of the picturesque rivers of 
 Devonshire. A fresh breeze ruffled the blue 
 waters of the haven, — numerous fishing boats 
 shot across the little bay, or were moored in 
 front of their owners' huts, scattered along the 
 beach; and the white sails of one larger vessel, a 
 beautiful schooner, were rapidly furled, and se- 
 cured to the tall and slender masts, while a boat
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 43 
 
 putting off fi-om her side, was rowed swiftly into 
 shore, at the moment when Melicent and Isabel, 
 a fortnight after their arrival at the Court, emer- 
 ging ftom the shade of the Wentworth woods, 
 found themselves in front of Dr. Lambert's resi- 
 dence, the parsonage house of Comerford. As 
 they opened the gate before the comfortable red 
 brick building, covered with its luxuriant vine, 
 and overhung by large old elms, the sisters were 
 warmly greetedby its hospitable mistress, from the 
 bay window wherein she sat, busied with her car- 
 pet work, and watching the approach of visitors, 
 or passengers along the neighboui'ing high road. 
 The refreshments considered by Mrs. Lam- 
 bert necessary for her guests after their walk, 
 had made thefr appearance, and she had herself 
 repaired to her husband's study, to acquaint him 
 with the arrival of the Miss Wentworths, when, 
 on her return, her attention was caught by the 
 sight of two gentlemen in yachting costume, ad- 
 vancing through the entrance-gate, towards the 
 house. The Doctor, with more than usual ala-
 
 44 MAX WENTWOllTH. 
 
 crity, hurried out to meet the strangers^ one of 
 whom, a handsome young man, of two or three 
 and twenty, seeing Mrs. Lambert at the window, 
 came forward, and was quickly recognised and 
 welcomed by her in the warmest manner. 
 
 " Well, Lord Lymington, this is a pleasant 
 surprise !" she exclaimed, shaking hands with 
 him. " And yet it is what I have been expect- 
 ing, too ; for I always said that you were not one 
 to forget your old friends, and that we should 
 have you at Comerford again, one of these 
 days." 
 
 " My yacht has been lying in Falmouth har- 
 bour for the winter, and I came down last week 
 into that neighbourhood to my brother-in-law's, 
 Mr. Tresham, whom you must allow me to intro- 
 duce to you, Mrs. Lambert," said Lord Ly- 
 mington, as his companion entered with the 
 Doctor. '^ We are at present on a cruize for 
 the benefit of my sister's health, and I would 
 not, on any account, have missed this opportu- 
 nity of seeing you and my good tutor here."
 
 MAX WENTWORTII. 45 
 
 " You win find the neiglibom-liood has rather 
 gained than lost in attraction, lately, Frank. — 
 Here are t-\;^-o voung ladies, with whom you 
 ought to be acQuainted," said Dr. Lambert, as 
 he presented his former pujDil to the Miss Went- 
 worths. The favom-able impression abeady 
 made on them, by liis unaffected and lively 
 manner, was by no means lessened by the 
 wai-mth of his enquiries after Sir Arthur, to 
 whom he expressed himself indebted for extra- 
 ordinary- kindness, diu'ing the period when he 
 had resided with liis tutor, Dr. Lambert, at 
 Comerford. His first visit on his retui'n, he 
 said, had been due to the Parsonage ; but the 
 next would certainly be paid to "Went worth 
 Court. 
 
 " After liincheon, Frank, we will escort the 
 young ladies home," said the Doctor. " Mrs. 
 Tiambert will, I know, insist upon you and your 
 friends taking up your abode with us for some 
 days to come, and we will leave her to make her 
 arrangements during our walk. Had you -visit-
 
 46 MAX WENTWOKTH. 
 
 ed us a short time ago, you would have found 
 the Court strangely altered for the worse. It 
 has undergone as great a renovation, under the 
 auspices of its present fair inmates, as the worthy 
 Baronet himself." 
 
 Mr. Tresham, though still more distinguished 
 in exterior than his brother-in-law, had cer- 
 tainly failed hitherto to acquire an eqaal station 
 in the good graces of his new acquaintance; yet, 
 though silent since his entrance, he had cer- 
 tainly not remained indifferent to attractions so 
 unexpectedly met with in the Rectory parlour ; 
 and when forced to desist from the prolonged 
 survey he was bestowing upon the beautiful 
 sisters, there was no deficiency of ease or 
 grace in the manner of his reply to Mrs. Lam- 
 bert's pressing corroboration of her husband's 
 invitation. No excuses were proof against her 
 good-humoured pertinacity, and Lord Lyming- 
 ton being eager to arrange a water party, on 
 board his schooner, for the following morning, 
 which might include the Miss Wentworths, it
 
 MAX "V^^NTWORTH. 47 
 
 was agreed, that Mr. and Mrs. Tresham, himself, 
 and their friend Mr. Stanley, should dine and 
 sleep at the Parsonage that night at least. !Mrs. 
 Lambert's promise to visit the Falcon in return, 
 was readily given, and when Melicent and Isa- 
 bel prepared to take leave. Lord Lymington, 
 reminding Dr. Lambert of his proposal, rose to 
 accompany them back to Wentworth Court, de- 
 termined to prefer his request for the morrow, 
 to the good-natiu-ed Sir Arthui'. 
 
 The return of the sisters was found to be 
 awaited not only by their imcle, but also by 
 Mr. "Walsingham, whose visits to the Court had 
 latterly become longer and more frequent than 
 ever. His previous acquaintance with the Miss 
 Wentworths, although hmited by the formal 
 and stately mode of intercoiu-se practised in the 
 neighbourhood where it had occurred, now 
 gave him the pri\'ilege of being received as 
 less of a stranger than the other members of 
 their present society. His own high qualities, 
 and Sir Arthur's marked regard, were recom-
 
 48 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 mendations not likely to be overlooked by 
 Melicent and Isabel ; while tbe admiration with 
 which the former had already inspired him, in- 
 creased in the almost daily association to which 
 he was admitted ; as, keenly susceptible on all 
 points connected with female grace and refine- 
 ment, he felt the influence of her winning and 
 gentle manners, and remarked the marvellous 
 change effected in the late sombre and discon- 
 solate household. It was not until this morning, 
 when the graces which had captivated him were 
 in his presence exerted for the welcome and 
 entertainment of her uncle's other guests, that 
 Walsingham's dormant prejudices began to 
 revive, and the doubt to insinuate itself whether 
 such a character as Melicent's were likely ever to 
 accord satisfactorily with his own. 
 
 A surmise so new and unwelcome, was not to 
 be lightly indulged ; and inwardly determining 
 that the blame of the annoyance he was expe- 
 riencing, lay not with Melicent, but with the 
 persecution she was enduring from the boyish
 
 MAX WE>'TWOKTH. 49 
 
 levity of Lord LjToington, and the forward pre- 
 sumption of Mr. Tresham, Walsingham forced 
 himself to take part in the general conversation, 
 and willingly engaged to join in the expedition 
 proposed for the next day. 
 
 " I can hardly believe," he said to Tresham, 
 as both gentlemen stood conversing with ISIiss 
 Wentworth, " that you have induced Mrs. 
 Tresham to become your associate in a cruize 
 like this. Her health I should have imagined 
 too dehcate to admit of her enjojing an amuse- 
 ment so fatiguing and uncertain." 
 
 " Oh ! L}Tnington has far more influence over 
 my wife than I can boast," returned Mr. Tresham, 
 coolly. " After his success in once luring her 
 on board, I am not surprised, indeed, at her 
 preferring the utmost horrors of her situation 
 there, to the exertion requisite for making her 
 escape. My equanimity does not stand so well 
 the test of a thi'ce days' confinement on board a 
 schooner." 
 
 Lord Ljinington and Dr. Lambert had met 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 MAX WENTWOHTH. 
 
 with as little difficulty as tliey had anticipated 
 in obtaining Sir Arthur's sanction for a scheme 
 which promised pleasure to his nieces ; but 
 Isabel^ delighted as she was with the prospect 
 of finding herself on board the beautiful vessel 
 she had so much admired^ still could not help 
 exclaiming, after the departure of the doctor and 
 his companions, 
 
 " Half my pleasure is lost owing to that dis- 
 agreeable Mr. Tresham. He seemed to tliinlz 
 we should go entu'ely to please liim ! Lord 
 Jjymington did appear willing to make himself 
 agreeable both here and at the Parsonage ; 
 while his friend almost all the time could do 
 nothing but look at us in that annoying 
 manner." 
 
 " That poor Mrs. Tresham ! No wonder she 
 is ill ! I imagine she must be very unhappy. 
 With what carelessness her husband spoke of 
 her this morning/' said Isabel, when, in the 
 evening, Walsingham, who had been detained 
 by Sir Arthur to dinner, joined Melicent and
 
 MAX "SVE^'T WORTH. 51 
 
 herself among the parterres and fountains of the 
 gardens of AVentAvorth Court. 
 
 " Do not -svaste your sjTiipathy where it is 
 probably uncalled for/' answered Walsingham. 
 " I doubt jNIrs. Treshani's possessing any very 
 acute sensibihties to be wounded, even if she 
 has intellect to comprehend her husband's con- 
 temptuous indifference. However, this does not 
 excuse Tresham; who, ha\ang married her to 
 extricate lumself from the embarrassments 
 wherein his extravagance had involved liis 
 princely property, ought, as a gentleman, to 
 treat her with respect and ci^ihty." 
 
 " If he married for money, I can beheve him 
 capable of an}1:hing !" Isabel indignantly ex- 
 claimed. " You have made me pity her and 
 dislike him a thousand times more than ever." 
 
 Mr. Walsingham smiled as he tui'ned towards 
 MeUcent. " ]Much as I admii'e your sister's en- 
 thusiasm, and little as I am disposed to defend 
 Mr. Tresham's conduct," he said, " I confess 
 that I consider far more inexcusable the man 
 
 d2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY.
 
 52 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 who marries without a due regard to the pru- 
 dential considerations she appears to hold but 
 lightly." 
 
 " It is evident that you do not suspect me of 
 partaking in Isabel's romance/' answered MeH- 
 cent^ laughing. " You disapprove then of the 
 ancient minstrel's advice to ' marry neither for 
 riches or land, but only for love ?' " 
 
 " I would as soon adopt the creed of the mo- 
 slern writers who attempt to persuade us that 
 there is greater refinement of feeling in the 
 cottage than the palace ; and that love in its 
 purity is to be found in the breasts of labourers 
 and dairymaids. A sentiment so etherial exists 
 only iiloof from the grosser atmosphere of the 
 w^orld, and is debased the moment it is brought 
 in contact with the meaner cares of existence. 
 No love worthy of the name could long with- 
 stand the harassing annoyances inseparable from 
 a narrow income — no man of any delicacy of 
 feeling could see the woman he loved deprived 
 of the slightest accustomed luxury, withovit fan-
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 53 
 
 eying every shade upon her brow conveyed a 
 reproach to liimself.'* 
 
 " Surely you carry the feeHng too far/' said 
 Melicent; " though agreeing with you in a strong 
 disinchnation for actual, downright poverty, yet 
 I think a woman may sometunes consent cheer- 
 fully to give up Se\Tes china and Brussels lace, 
 when actuated by a very sincere attachment." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but I own I would rather not 
 trv. The sacrifice, indeed, is one that many of 
 your sex have had generosity enough to make ; 
 but I should scarcely expect from them the 
 strength of mind that would preserve from after 
 regret. No, beheve me, the less either party 
 renounces for the other the better for their hap- 
 piness." 
 
 The sisters were silent; and AValsingliam, 
 with a shght degree of embarrassment, went on, 
 addressing himself, however, to Isabel. 
 
 " I do not say that I could be content myself 
 to follow Mr. Tresham's example, because my 
 habits are domestic, and would induce me to
 
 54 MAX WENTWOKTH. 
 
 attach a greater importance to the taste and 
 disposition of my wife. Yet I also am an em- 
 barrassed man ; and though, unhke him, I suffer 
 from the extravagance of others, it may be long 
 before my exertions shall have cleared off the 
 embarrassments on my property. But the same 
 principle which would forbid my reducing the 
 woman I loved to an inferior station, would 
 render me reluctant, I own, to address one 
 greatly accustomed to society and adulation. 
 How could I expect from the flattered beauty, 
 the spoiled coquette, the entire devotion wliich 
 would alone satisfy me ? There are sacrifices 
 which I believe it would cost your sex far more 
 to make than those of wealth and splendour ; 
 and I should more readily imagine a woman 
 enriching with her fortune a ruined spendthrift, 
 or abandoning home and comfort for a selfish 
 and unworthy lover, than that one who had 
 tasted to the full the pleasures of gratified vanity 
 could ever be brought contentedly to resign 
 them."
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 55 
 
 '^ I cannot anticipate any probability of your 
 being led to choose so unwisely," said Melicent. 
 " Vanity and coquetry are failings not likely to 
 escape Mr. Walsingbam's detection ; and they 
 are surely not so universal among us but that 
 some may be found whose retii'ed habits and 
 manners may secure them from misconstruction 
 or distrust." 
 
 " Say rather anxietj^/' he warmly repHed ; 
 " from which I affirm no love on our part can 
 be ft'ee ; since, while woman is by nature prone 
 to be easily impressed and misled, who can tell 
 how long the purest and most guileless of beings 
 shall withstand the evil influences at work around 
 her ? 'Who can depend upon being able to 
 maintain his ground against the encroachments 
 of Mends — society — ^kmdi-ed — all the various 
 claimants upon her favour and attention 1 I 
 would as soon descend to secure my wife's con- 
 stancy by precautions unworthy of myself and 
 her, as share with parent or child, animate or
 
 56 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 inanimate object, the affection which I should 
 regard as exckisively my due !" 
 
 " There would, indeed, be danger of such 
 incessant anxiety defeating its own ends," re- 
 plied Melicent. " Neither love nor happiness 
 can, in my opinion, exist without perfect con- 
 fidence !" 
 
 " Another word for indifference ! And yet 
 you are right — there is danger that such vigi- 
 lance would be felt as odious and irksome — 
 that such devotion would be repaid by ingra- 
 titude ; and the wisest and safest plan, I admit, is 
 to school down the feelings to an ordinary level, 
 and substitute the national expectations and 
 eligibilities of the marriage de raison ou de 
 convenance, for the chimerical fehcity which 
 .cannot even be grasped at without subjecting 
 you to the evils of blighted affections and love 
 betrayed." 
 
 The silence that followed was of some dura- 
 tion ; for, whatever might be Melicent's opinion 
 of his sentiments, she had no desire to combat
 
 MAX -SVENTAVORTH. 57 
 
 them seriously. Her gravity might, perhaps, 
 be attributed by her companion to the interest 
 he had excited ; at all events, when he spoke 
 again, it was to change the conversation to one 
 of lighter tone ; and till they regained the house, 
 he exerted himself with tolerable success in chs- 
 peUing the restraint which had involuntarily 
 become evident in her manner. 
 
 d5
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Oh for a soft and gentle wind ! 
 
 I heard a fair one cry : 
 But give to me the rolhng seas, 
 
 And white waves beating high ! 
 
 Allan Cunningham. 
 
 " This really is very kind in you !" said Mr. 
 Tresham's pretty but indolent-looking wife, as 
 she exerted herself to make room upon the 
 cushioned couch beneath the awning for Meli- 
 cent and Isabel, after their introduction to her 
 on board the Falcon the following morning. 
 " I cannot imagine how Frank could expect 
 you to come, where I am afraid you will all be 
 so very uncomfortable." 
 
 " You see your influence, my Lord — I am
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 59 
 
 once more your -sictim !" said Mrs. Severn to 
 Lyniingtonj who was assisting her out of the 
 boat which had brought her daughters and her- 
 self alongside the Falcon. " Constitutionally 
 averse to this sort of thing, as I must confess 
 myself to be, I cannot tell how my girls have 
 acquii'ed then passionate fondness for aquatic 
 exciu'sions ; — I believe my foohsh Louisa thinks 
 no one can be drowned in the Falcon ! ^Ir. 
 Severn, mild as he usually is, quite scolded the 
 poor child tliis mornmg for her raptiu'cs." 
 
 " Mr. Severn was not to be persuaded to 
 jom us .^" inquired Lymington. " I trust he is 
 not more of an invahd than usual to-day." 
 
 " Oh no !" repKed his affectionate wife, with 
 a tender smile, as she graceJftilly mounted the 
 deck ; " we always leave him at Oaklands on 
 these occasions ; sitting by himself in his own 
 favourite little room, with the bKnds nearly 
 closed, and notliing to disturb him, he is so very 
 comfortable ! Few Englishmen enjoy the dolce 
 far niente like Mr. Severn."
 
 60 MAX "WENTWORTH. 
 
 Her daughters had by this time followed her 
 on deck ; and, in a few moments, the Falcon, 
 with all sails set to eatch the fresh morning 
 breeze, was dashing rapidly through the waters, 
 as if sharing the impatience of some of her 
 passengers at the delay occasioned by the ela- 
 borate toilettes of Mrs. Severn and her daughters. 
 Even Mr.Tresham,who had been leaning against 
 the mast, in, apparently, no very complacent 
 humour, awaiting the moment of departure, 
 roused himself to comment satirically with his 
 friend Mr. Stanley on the torrent of eloquence 
 wherewith Mrs. Severn was now overwhelming 
 his wife, who scarcely gave herself the trouble 
 of even listening to her details of having en- 
 countered Lord Lymington on the preceding 
 day, and being consequently compelled to 
 accompany her daughters : — he was so great a 
 favourite, and no ckcumstances ever induced 
 her to resign the important duties of chaperonage 
 to another. 
 
 " I declare I am quite sorry for that poor Mr.
 
 MAX 'V^^NT WORTH. 61 
 
 Severn/' said Mrs. Lambert, in a confidential 
 tone, to Melicent ; '^' to be dragged out or left at 
 home, just as it suits his wife's convenience, 
 without consulting liim in the least, camiot be 
 very agreeable. Last summer, when she had 
 her reasons for making constant water parties 
 and pic-nics, it was always " Mr. Severn is so 
 fond of the water !" ^' Mr. Severn infinitely 
 prefers these gipsying parties on account of their 
 freedom from any kind of geneV And now, 
 because he is not wanted, the poor little man is 
 left at home with that conceited son of his, 
 whom it certainly is a comfort to have out of the 
 way." 
 
 •^ All, by the bye," said Tresham, ''where is 
 the admirable Augustus ? In the %sq minutes' 
 colloquy I held yesterday with ^Ii's. Severn, 
 the opuiion of Augustus was five times quoted. 
 "Why are we denied the countenance of her 
 paragon ?" 
 
 " Oh, because his mother does not want him, 
 and knows he would be only in the way here.
 
 62 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Witli all her nonsensical partiality, I fancy she 
 finds him plague enough sometimes. The only 
 thing remarkable I could ever see about him, 
 was his conceit, and the Doctor has no patience 
 with him, for being such a puppy." 
 
 " Do not you feel perfectly ecrasee by the 
 weight of those very coarse straw bonnets the 
 Miss Wentworths have got on ? " whispered 
 Miss Severn, to her friend Mrs. Mortimer, 
 whose " lovely white crape," had already been 
 the theme of her admiration. " Only think. 
 Papa wanted us to put on our old bonnets to- 
 day, when we were coming out in dear delightful 
 Lord Lymington's yacht, — with such a love of a 
 man, too, as that stylish Mr. Tresham ! Quite a 
 pet, isn't he, love ? — only so shockingly impudent 
 that I cannot bear to look at him ;" and her 
 mother's watchful eyes being for once averted. 
 Miss Louisa fixed hers so admiringly upon Tre- 
 sham, that he could not refuse her in return, 
 a portion of the attention she so evidently 
 courted.
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 63 
 
 Isabel, meanwhile, vdth. delight that preclu- 
 ded any wish for other amusement, gazed upon 
 the changeful variety of scene before her. The 
 bright foaming waves were breaking against the 
 bold rocks and headlands of the Devonshu-e 
 coast; wliile at intervals, along the narrow creeks 
 and inlets, or where the bcautifLil rivers entered 
 the sea, glimpses might be obtained of green 
 vallies and recesses, wherein a thousand beauties 
 seemed to lurk. To the glowing expressions of 
 admiration wliich, unable to repress them, Isa- 
 bel addressed to ^liss Maria Severn, next to 
 whom she was seated, a not very inteUigent 
 smile, and a faint sigh, were the only answers she 
 received : nor did better success attend the fur- 
 ther attempts at conversation, which compassion 
 for the e^ddent want of health and spiiits of her 
 companion, induced Isabel to make. Lord Ly- 
 mington was not unobservant of her fruitless 
 laboui's, and breaking off his conversation with 
 Dr. Lambert, he abruptly said, 
 
 " Where are my old acquaintances the sketch-
 
 64 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 books, Miss Maria? I never remember their 
 being forgotten before." 
 
 " Indeed we did not forget tbem/' replied Miss 
 Maria, roused to unusual animation. " Mamma 
 told us not to bring them ; she said they could 
 be of no use to-day." 
 
 " Indeed ! I am surprised at that," observed 
 Dr. Lambert ; " I should have imagined Mrs. 
 Severn sufficiently well acquainted with the 
 grounds of Mount Edgecumbe, to know that you 
 are likely to meet with several remarkably fine 
 points of view there to-day." 
 
 " There sits the delinquent, my lord," inter- 
 posed Mrs. Severn, her attention caught by 
 Lymington's question ; — " your old friend Lou- 
 isa, who is dying, I know, to acquire some of 
 your valuable information concerning those nau- 
 tical minutiae about which young ladies are in 
 general so terribly ignorant. Louisa is at heart 
 a sailor — ^ No sketching to-day, mamma,' she 
 said, ^ I have too much to learn — I can think of
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 65 
 
 nothing but yachting, when I am on board the 
 Falcon!" 
 
 " I am dehghted to hear it," exclaimed Ly- 
 mington. "/ am tired to death of the whole 
 thing, and mean to have done with yachting 
 after this season ; but my Mend Stanley is just 
 taking it up — came into an immense property 
 last year, and mad after these ruinous toys. 
 Miss Severn's enthusiasm on his favourite sub- 
 ject will enchant him. ' Show me a giid accom- 
 plished, and fond of yachting, and I'll marry her 
 immediately,' is his constant expression !" 
 
 Pilule Stanley, unprepared for resistance, fell 
 a A-ictim to his friend's stratagem, and L}Tnington, 
 satisfied with its success, resumed his conversa- 
 tion -N^-ith the Doctor, Isabel, profiting by the 
 hint he had given, again addressed her silent 
 companion on the subject of sketching. It was 
 e\T.dently a favourite one — the young lady cer- 
 tainly sighed in an unaccountable manner, when 
 she confessed her dishke of trees, and laid a 
 mysterious emphasis on the last word of the sen-
 
 66 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 tence, when she owned, that she did not sketch 
 much now ; but still she answered Isabel's ques- 
 tions without reluctance, and was even wrought 
 to such a pitch of animation, as to volunteer 
 the remark, that Wentworth Court was very 
 pretty. 
 
 Isabel willingly assented, but observed, that 
 as a sketch, it would be very difficult for any 
 one who disliked trees, since its woods formed 
 its chief ornament. 
 
 "Do you think so?" replied Miss Maria, with 
 a sigh still deeper than usual. " It looks very 
 pretty without the trees. I di*ew it so once, 
 and I was going to work it in German wools for 
 a screen, only Mamma thought it would be too 
 exciting !" 
 
 " Do tell me," enquired Mrs. Tresham, stop- 
 puig Lord Lymington, as he was passing near 
 her, " what can Mrs. Severn be saying to Stan- 
 ley all this time ? How bored he looks ! " 
 
 " He has little chance of speedy extrication from 
 the toils spread for him," remarked Walsingham,
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 67 
 
 looking in the dii-ection pointed out^ while 
 Lyniington langliingly retreated to his former 
 station. ^'Yoiu* Mend's looks, Mrs. Tresham, 
 certainly bespeak hiin iingratefiil at jDresent, for 
 the pains Mrs. Severn is taking to ingi-atiate her- 
 self with lihn. But he cannot always remain 
 insensible to her complimentary allusions to the 
 house of Derby; her flattering preference of 
 Peveril of the Peak, and the ]3ointed quotation I 
 have just overheard of the last words of Marmion." 
 
 " How very ridicidous ! — and Stanley hates 
 that kind of thing so much," said ^Irs. Tresham, 
 sinking back again into the posture of luxiuious 
 indolence, from wliich all the charms of the 
 beautiful panorama before them had been in- 
 sufficient to arouse her. 
 
 "It would be quite tune enough to see the 
 coast on theh retm-n in the cool of the evening;'' 
 she said, as she resigned herself for the present 
 to the tranquil gratification of Hstening to the 
 Hvely conversation of the gi'oup that had formed 
 round her couch — amused by Mrs. Lambert's
 
 68 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 good humoured commerage, and not insensible 
 to the grace and intellect of Mehcent Wentworth. 
 Her own manners, when divested in some degree 
 of their apathetic indiiference, were gentle and 
 pleasing, and imposed no restraint upon her new 
 acquaintance. Mr. Walsingham, although dis- 
 appointed in the failure of his attempts to engage 
 Melicent's exclusive attention, seemed yet re- 
 solved to exert himself to the utmost to contend 
 with Tresham for the palm of agreeabillty ; and, 
 when the vessel rounded the last headland, and 
 the magnificent bay of Plymouth, its shore 
 crowned by the wooded cliffs of Mount Edge- 
 cumbe, came in sight, the general feeling seemed 
 expressed by Mrs. Lambert's exclamation, that 
 really this had been the pleasantest water -party 
 she ever remembered. 
 
 "Have not we begun the day delightfully, 
 Mr. Stanley?" enquired Miss Severn, as she 
 took her place in the boat that was to convey the 
 party to the shore. " That dear Falcon, is she 
 not a love ? If she does but take us back again
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 69 
 
 as qiiickly as we came, we shall have time for a 
 pleasant evening altogether, at Oaklands or the 
 Parsonage, and Maria and I can sing for Lord 
 LjTnington some of his favourite duetts." 
 
 " I trust our chance of hearing you does not 
 depend upon the Falcon's speed agamst the 
 ■v\dnd equalling that \d\\\ which she was borne 
 hither by a favouring breeze," answered Ly- 
 mington. "It would be useless, too, to hurry 
 over our visit to Mount Edgecumbe, as we must 
 wait till the turn of the tide, which will not be 
 till sunset, before we can leave the shore." 
 
 " Oh, that will be quite exquisite !" exclaimed 
 ^liss Severn, with undiminished satisfaction. 
 " The moon ^oll look so enchanting, and singing 
 sounds so beautifully on the water. Are you 
 fond of music, Mr. Stanley?" 
 
 " Very," replied that gentleman, in an absent 
 manner; then adding more earnestly, "Pray, 
 I.ymington, have you considered where we are 
 to dine, if we are kept out so long ?" 
 
 " Dine?" replied Lymington ; " oh there are
 
 70 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 plenty of places to dine at — there is a pretty 
 little inn, within a stone's throw of the Park 
 gates, 'which would be the very spot, and we 
 could order everything to be ready for us after 
 our ramble through the grounds." 
 
 " It seems a dangerous project/' said Tresham; 
 " let us not decide rashly on trusting so impor- 
 tant a consideration to the narrow minded 
 chef-de-cuisne of a place garlanded with roses 
 and honeysuckles ! Less of hazard would 
 surely be incurred at the Royal Hotel." 
 
 " Consider the distance for the ladies, my 
 dear sir," interposed Dr. Lambert. '^ I assure 
 you we shall be very well taken care of here. 
 Sea air and exercise are capital provocatives 
 to appetite ; and before our walk is ended, I 
 fancy none of us will be fastidious enough to 
 object to the simple, but excellent fare, I can 
 venture to promise you." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Tresham, you are sadly unarcadian 
 in your ideas, I am afraid ;" observed Mrs. 
 Severn, archly. " Let us trust that before our
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 71 
 
 sylvan excursion is ended, roses and woodbine 
 may have refined your taste !" 
 
 Having given the necessary orders at the 
 little inn, where the sight of a cool parlour tempt- 
 ed Mrs. Tresham and IMrs. Lambert to remain, 
 instead of encountering the heat and fatigue 
 of a walk through the park, the rest of the party 
 were soon apparently engrossed in admiration 
 of its splendid scenery, the fine terrace sur- 
 rounding the mansion, and the inimitable beauty 
 and variety of the woodland walks and di'ives. 
 The mortification wherewith Mrs. Severn had 
 observ^ed the successful manoeuvi*es of Lord Ly- 
 mington, to obtain a station by the side of Isabel, 
 subsided upon her seeing that Mr. Stanley had 
 abandoned his fii'st resolution of remaining 
 behind, and that he continued, though ^dth no 
 gi'cat alacrity, to accompany them. Not so Wal- 
 singham. His demeanour that morning, joined 
 with the conversation of the preceding day, 
 had tended to enlighten Mehcent as to the 
 motives which, rather than regard for Sir
 
 72 MAX WENT WORTH . 
 
 Arthur, might have occasioned his late frequent 
 visits to Wentworth Court. Instead of the 
 frankness which was its usual characteristic, 
 her manner assumed towards him a shade of 
 reserve which, together with her ready accept- 
 ance of Mr. Tresham's attentions, deeply mitated 
 "Walsingham. His abrupt secession from the 
 party attracted little notice. Mr. Tresham's 
 powers of conversation were, when he chose it, 
 of the first order, and he was at present fully 
 disposed to exert them for the entertainment 
 of Miss Wentworth, as, following their guide, 
 they pursued the beautiful walk overhanging 
 the sea, sheltered by lofty trees, but aifording 
 dehghtful views of the harbour through their 
 branches.
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 " No stir in the air, no stir in the sea ; 
 The ship was still as she might be. 
 Her sails from heaven received no motion ; 
 Her keel was steady in the ocean." 
 
 The Inchcape Bell. 
 
 " Were you not acquainted with my cousin, 
 Mr. Wentworth, when you formerly resided in 
 Devonshire, Lord L}Tnington ?" inquired Isabel, 
 somewhat suddenly, availing herself of the first 
 pause in their conversation, as, considerably in 
 advance of the others, they pursued the pictu- 
 resque path alluded to in the last chapter. 
 
 ^' I scarcely dared to mention my friend to 
 you," replied Lymington ; *^ siace the doctor 
 teUs me that Max is still in dire disgrace ; and 
 
 VOL. 1. E
 
 74 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 at Wentworth Court, where, formerly, he was 
 perfectly worshipped, I understand I am not 
 even to pronounce his name. Wild and thought- 
 less he may have been ; but to merit such deep 
 resentment from the uncle for whom I know 
 Max would have sacrificed everything — it is 
 utterly impossible !" 
 
 " Melicent and I have never seen oui- cousin, 
 and we are ignorant of the causes of his banish- 
 ment," said Isabel. " Old Ambrose, indeed, 
 intimated that he was believed to be in Spain, 
 but told us no more ; and what it is Sir Arthur's 
 pleasure to conceal, we could not wish to learn 
 from a domestic. If Mr. Wentworth be all that 
 I imagine him, my benevolent uncle's estrange- 
 ment from the last of our family is the more 
 extraordinary. No venial error, surely, could 
 have caused such a result; yet what you who 
 know my cousin say of him, added to the little 
 1 have been able to learn, makes me feel certain 
 that he is not one to be suspected of any unpar- 
 donable offences."
 
 MAX WEXTAVORTH. 75 
 
 '^ You do not then wholly condemn hiin ? I 
 was certain you would prove his friend ; — and 
 yet, there are those who beheve your coming to 
 be of ill omen to the nephew whose place in Sir 
 Arthur's affection will now be speedily filled 
 up." 
 
 " I am glad you do not suspect us of wishing 
 to supplant Mr. "\Ventworth. ]My first wish, 
 my most earnest desii-e, ever since I heard of 
 this unnatui'al estrangement, has been to dis- 
 cover the means of reconciling those so nearly 
 related, and once so fondly attached ; — to restore 
 Sir Arthur's heir to his rightful station, and to 
 impart that cheerfulness to my uncle's old age, 
 which might well desert him when he thought 
 of one who ought to be the support of his 
 family, and the honour of his house, wasting the 
 best years of his hfe in wandering far from the 
 home which must eventually be his own ; but 
 from whence every rehc of its future master has 
 now been banished. Had you seen the mourn- 
 ful way in which Ambrose pointed to the vacant 
 
 e2
 
 76 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 space where my cousin's picture once hung, sur- 
 rounded by his ancestors, you would not wonder 
 at the deep interest we take in our absent and 
 unknown relative." 
 
 " His picture gone from the gallery ? That 
 looks ill, certainly ; but let us trust to have the 
 original restored to us soon," said Lymington, 
 struck with the hvely sympathy manifested by 
 his blushing and beautiful companion. " Now 
 that I know I shall have coadjutors instead of 
 opponents in Miss Wentworth and yourself, I 
 am determined not to rest while Maximilian 
 remains away from a home which, with so 
 much attraction recently added to it, is not one 
 whence any man would patiently bear to be 
 excluded for youthful follies and eccentricities, 
 probably repented of long since, and forgotten 
 by all but Sir Arthur. No time shall be lost 
 on my part ; and when I renew our long inter- 
 rupted correspondence, may I tell your cousin 
 that he has warm and true friends in your sister 
 and yourself, joined to those aheady willing to
 
 MAX WEXT WORTH. / / 
 
 espouse the cause of one Trho, let his fauhs be 
 what they may, will prove, as you anticipate, 
 and I jfii-mly beUeve, an honour to the name of 
 WentvYorth ?" 
 
 Isabel blushingly assented to his proposition ; 
 and, gratified with the idea that her cousin 
 would not beheve Mehcent and herself indif- 
 ferent to his welfare, she would willingly have 
 questioned Lord Lymington still farther respect- 
 ing one who had now become an object of re- 
 doubled interest T\'ith her. The approach of Dr. 
 Lambert, however, with a warning of the lateness 
 of the hour, made them aware of the necessity 
 of returning to the inn, where a hiu:ried repast 
 awaited them. The tremendous echoes had re- 
 peated again and again the reports of the even- 
 ing guns fi'om the shore, and from the vessels in 
 the harbour, before the Falcon, with all sail set, 
 was slowly ghding through the smooth waters 
 on her homeward track. 
 
 Fatigued with the exertions of the day, the 
 party on deck seemed disposed to manifest little
 
 78 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 of the gaiety wliich had prevailed there in the 
 morning. Mr. Walsingham had stationed him- 
 self next MeHcent ; and Tresham, thoroughly- 
 tired, apparently, of his companions and him- 
 self, lay stretched iipon one of the benches, 
 which he had previously rendered more com- 
 modious by arranging on it various cloaks and 
 shawls. The breeze had almost entirely died 
 away; and the sluggish motion of the vessel 
 seemed to produce a deadening effect upon 
 the spirits of the party. Lymington looked 
 uneasy, and exchanged one or two significant 
 observations with the sailor at the helm. 
 Many a wistful glance was cast upon the still 
 waters and the darkening horizon ; and it was a 
 general rehef when the Miss Severns were re- 
 minded of their engagement, and sang several 
 French and Itahan duets to the accompaniment 
 of a guitar, which they had quite accidentally 
 brought with them. 
 
 " How now, Frank ? Surely we make but 
 little Avay!" suddenly exclaimed the Doctor,
 
 MAX T\-ENTAVORTH. 79 
 
 aroused firom his slumber by the conclusion of a 
 song ; and noticing, as he looked towards the 
 shore, the sHght change that had taken place in 
 their position. 
 
 " Ours is a lost case, I take it, Doctor," said 
 Tresham, coolly, " so far as regards the chance 
 of regaining om* last night's comfortable quarters 
 at the Parsonage, llie tide is running a race 
 out by the headland yonder, and what A^nd 
 there is, blows dii'ectly in oiu* teeth." 
 
 " Surely, Frank, you cannot have exposed us 
 to the risk of being kept out all night with so large 
 a party on board!" exclaimed !Mrs. Tresham, 
 alarmed into some degree of energy. " There 
 must be a breeze to spring up, or a tide to tui'n, 
 or something to happen, which Tresham hopes 
 to tease us by concealing." 
 
 Lord Lpniiigton's ans-\7er, most reluctantly 
 given, did but increase the dismay occasioned 
 by Mr. Tresham's announcement. He could 
 not perceive, however, he said, any reason why, 
 even at the worst, the ladies should not be
 
 80 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 able to make themselves very comfortable below^ 
 though of coui'se they could not expect the 
 accommodations of a frigate on board a 
 schooner. 
 
 " Certainly not^ my lord ; and there is no 
 doubt of the wisdom of making the best of 
 things/' remarked the good-natured Mrs. Lam- 
 bert. " I have no doubt we shall all manage 
 very well — though, to be sure," she added, 
 turning to Melicent, ^Svho would ever have 
 thought of my being reduced to one of those 
 strange Httle dormitories below ! As for the 
 doctor, my dear, you know he would be a per- 
 fect impossibihty !" 
 
 In spite of Lord Lymington's efforts to restore 
 the serenity of his passengers, the greater 
 number remained silent and dispirited. To the 
 effect of the close and heavy atmosphere, was 
 added the unpleasant motion of the becalmed 
 vessel; and Mrs. Severn, who had for some 
 time been struggling to conceal her uncomfort- 
 able sensations, at length declared her di'ead of
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 81 
 
 going below^ and entreated Lord Lymington 
 to devise means of getting them safe on shore. 
 Lymington had nothing to reconmiend except 
 patience and hope ; but when Mrs. Lambert, 
 recollecting Mr. Tatnall's observations on the 
 delicacy of Isabel's constitution, openly lamented 
 the risk she would incur, and the uneasiness 
 Sir Arthur was likely to suffer on his nieces' 
 account, Mr. Walsingham interposed by inviting 
 the whole party to Marchwood. He knew a 
 part of the coast, at no great distance, where 
 even at low water a boat might be taken close 
 underneath the cliff, which was there practicable 
 of ascent. A long discussion ensued. None 
 of the ladies liked intruding upon Lady Clarence ; 
 while to Mrs. Lambert and Mrs. Treshani the 
 difficulties of the enterprise were insurmount- 
 able, and the latter especially dreaded its 
 fatigue too much to stand in need of the posi- 
 tive injunction to remain where she was, which 
 herhusbandroused himself to utter. Mrs. Severn 
 likewise had her fears and scruples, but both 
 
 e5
 
 82 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 vanished when the final arrangement that Dr. 
 Lambert and Mr. Walsingham should escort 
 to Marchwood herself and ' the Miss Went- 
 worths, empowered her to leave her daughters, 
 freed from all dangerous rivaby, under the 
 care of Lord Lymington and Mr. Stanley. 
 
 With considerable exertion, and the assist- 
 ance of the long oars or sweeps, the intervening 
 headland was rounded, and the schooner hove 
 to opposite Marchwood cove. The boat was 
 then lowered for the reception of the adventurers, 
 and in a few moments, Walsingham and his 
 fair companions were standing beneath the 
 cliff he had pointed out, where a scanty margin 
 of shingly beach, and piles of rocky fragments, 
 afforded space to wait the arrival of Dr. Lam- 
 bert and Lord Lymington, who had insisted 
 on lending his aid in the ascent. '^ I wish Mr. 
 Tresham had stayed away !" exclaimed Isabel, 
 on perceiving that he too was in the boat; 
 "I am sure we should have managed much 
 better without him !" Walsingham looked as
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 83 
 
 if he perfectly agi-eed with her ; but farther 
 remark was prevented by the gentlemen spring- 
 ing to their side, and the necessity of com- 
 mencing their formidable task. Availing him- 
 self of the moment when AValsingham was 
 unavoidably occupied in pacifying the real or 
 affected terrors of Mrs. Severn, Tresham ui'ged 
 Melicentto make the first trial. Once engaged on 
 the precarious track, it was scarcely possible to 
 look back or take breath, until the desired summit 
 having been safely attained, they were at length 
 at leisure to survey the slower progress of their 
 friends. Melicent, too, could now express her 
 gratitude for the very efficacious assistance she 
 had received, and the extraordinary trouble 
 incurred by her companion. " It is I who 
 ought to feel obhged to "Walsingham's scheme," 
 repHed Tresham, smiling, " for affording me a 
 good and sufficient cause for exertion, as well 
 as the power of escaping, for a few moments, 
 from those insuffisrable friends of L^-mington's. 
 Grant us your compassion, at least, IMiss
 
 84 MAX WEI^TWORTH. 
 
 Wentworth, for haying to return to that be- 
 cahned vessel with such a prospect of enter- 
 tainment for a rainy evening in the state cabin 
 of a schooner." 
 
 " I really think the poor creatures there 
 deserve most pity/' said Lymington, who with 
 Isabel had now joined them. "A storm is 
 coming up from the west. Laura will be in 
 despair, and perfectly helpless, and since the 
 activity which has just enabled you to distance 
 us all, proves you to be at last awake, I trust 
 that you mean to enact an efficient part in 
 soothing the terrors of Mrs. Mortimer and the 
 fair Louisa." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should interfere with 
 you, and forfeit the opportunity of proving to 
 Miss Wentworth that her influence alone could 
 have disturbed my slumbers!" answered Tre- 
 sham. ^^ No, I warn you that my efforts, if I 
 make any, will be exclusively devoted to Mrs. 
 Lambert herself." 
 
 No farther time could be allowed for con-
 
 MAX WENTWOr.TH. 85 
 
 dolence and adieus, ere Tresham and Lyming- 
 ton sprang down tlie cliffs to retiu'n to the 
 schooner, novr scarcely visible through the 
 gathering haze and darkness of the evening. 
 
 " I could not intrude my assistance where it 
 was so e^ddently undesired," said Walsingham, 
 in a low voice, as he di'ew near Melicent. " Yet 
 I had ti'usted that you woidd allow me to be 
 your guide in danger, as a compensation for 
 the small share of yoiu' attention granted to me 
 during the day, though Miss Wentworth must 
 be aware what was my inducement to join a 
 party of which she was a member." 
 
 WMle Melicent, displeased at the tone he 
 had assumed, endeavoured by the coldness of 
 her reply to prevent its continuance, AValsing- 
 ham proceeded still more earnestly. 
 
 " There is much, doubtless, that is flattering 
 in the undisguised admiration of such men as 
 Mr. Tresham ; but !Miss Wentworth surely 
 is above the common weakness of her sex. She 
 is incapable, I am convinced, of deriving plea-
 
 86 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 sure from the pain which may be inflicted 
 upon those who, better than any idle man of 
 the world, know and appreciate the value of 
 the notice she has suifered to be so um'easonably 
 monopolised." 
 
 "I have not the slightest wish to be con- 
 sidered superior to the ordinary failings of my 
 sex, Mr. Walsingham," answered Melicent, 
 coldly ; " nor do I doubt that most women, con- 
 trary to your supposition, would willingly 
 resign the pretensions of which you accuse us, 
 the moment a deeper feeling were in question. 
 On the present occasion, I have received too 
 much amusement from Mr. Tresham's conver- 
 sation not to be happy that I am not called 
 upon, in any manner, to relinquish such agreeable 
 society." As she concluded, Melicent, affecting 
 to find some difficulty in pursuing their path 
 through the faint twihght, accepted Dr. Lam- 
 bert's arm ; and Walsingham, deeply irritated, 
 led them on for the rest of the way in nearly 
 unbroken silence.
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 8 / 
 
 The rain, which had before only threatened, 
 now pattered in large di'ops among the leaves 
 of the shrubbery through which they were pass- 
 ing, and forced them to quicken their ^ steps 
 towards the house. A few words fi.'om her 
 son made Lady Clarence acquainted with the 
 claim upon her hospitahty ; and she hastened 
 to bestow upon all a friendly greeting, and 
 to place Melicent and Isabel at once at ease by 
 the affectionate warmth of her manner towards 
 them. After every precaution had been taken 
 to prevent ill consequences from their exposure 
 to the dampness of the night, and the imme- 
 diate dispatch of a messenger to Wentworth 
 Court, the party, with invigorated spii-its, drew 
 around the table which had been spread for 
 their refr-eshment ; and in the narrative of their 
 past adventui'es, congratulations to each other 
 on their present situation, and pity for the 
 friends they had left so much less agreeably 
 circumstanced, an hour passed rapidly away. 
 
 As the sisters afterwards followed Lady Cla-
 
 88 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 rence to their apartments, the lightning more 
 than once flashed through the high casements 
 on the walls of the long galleries they traversed ; 
 and long after their kind hostess had retired, 
 the sound of the heavy rain that was falhng, 
 occasioned anxious concern for the inevitable 
 discomfort of their luckless companions of the 
 day.
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 " Your lord does know my mind ; I cannot love 
 him." Twelfth Night. 
 
 A BRIGHT morning siin was shining on the 
 woods and lawns which had been enveloped in 
 gloomy fogs on the preceding evening, and the 
 blue and sparkling waves of the Channel, no 
 longer bound in glassy stillness, were breaking 
 audibly upon the beach, when MeHcent and 
 Isabel descended to the breakfast-room, where 
 Lady Clarence was awaiting her guests. Eveiy 
 thing without wore the most cheerful aspect of 
 early morning ; the birds were singing gaily in 
 the branches, and the diamond raindrops hung
 
 90 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 glittering from leaf and flower. No such, fa- 
 vourable change had been wrought by daylight 
 upon the interior of the mansion. With the 
 exception of the wing appropriated to Lady 
 Clarence, the greater part of the building was 
 uninhabited ; and the scantily furnished galleries 
 and apartments through which the sisters had to 
 pass on leaving their chambers, presented a for- 
 lorn and gloomy appearance. 
 
 " How rough the water is this morning, Dr. 
 Lambert/' said Melicent, as she took her place 
 beside him at the breakfast- table. " "What would 
 we not last night have given for the wind that is 
 now so freely cresting the waves with foam ! I 
 should hke to know how our poor friends passed 
 the night." 
 
 " Better than might have been expected, I am 
 happy in being able to inform you, my dear 
 Miss "Wentworth," said Dr. Lambert. " From 
 a messenger despatched early this morning by 
 my thoughtful helpmate, I learn that owing to 
 the gale which sprung up, the schooner was
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 91 
 
 able to make Comerford Haven, and land her 
 passengers under much less tune than had been 
 calculated upon. Some degree of inconvenience, 
 inevitable under the cucumstances, appears to 
 have accrued to the party ; and Mrs. Mortimer and 
 the Miss Severns are stated to have been consi- 
 derable sufferers fi:om illness and alarm. The 
 knowledge that you young ladies were safe out 
 of harm's way seems to have reheved my wife of 
 her principal burthen of anxiety- ; and I shall 
 hardly quarrel vrith the result of the expedition, 
 so far as she is concerned, since it has induced, 
 according to her own announcement, a fii-m re- 
 solution of abiding by diy land, and carefully 
 eschewing all marine exciu'sions for the future." 
 " How grateful my daughters T^dll be to Lady 
 Clarence and Mr. Walsingham for the hospita- 
 lity which has preserved me from making what 
 thev would regard as so untoward a resolution!" 
 observed Mrs. Severn. " They are abeady look- 
 ing forward to our next continental trip witli 
 very pardonable anxiety. !Mine is a more sober
 
 92 MAX WEISTWORTH. 
 
 time of life ; and, fascinating as are Paris and 
 Vienna, I owe it to myself to say, that after a 
 winter spent in either of those cities, I have al- 
 ways been able to contemplate a return to the 
 country where Mr. Severn must of necessity 
 spend most of his time, with satisfaction, if not 
 with pleasure ! " 
 
 An invitation from Lady Clarence to visit her 
 flower-garden after brealdast, was readily ac- 
 cepted by the whole party. The absence of any 
 attempt to keep up the more distant part of the 
 grounds made the extreme beauty and high cul- 
 tivation of Lady Clarence's own domain more 
 remarkable ; and some recent improvements no- 
 ticed by Dr. Lambert, a professed horticultura- 
 list, called forth his particular encomiums. Mr. 
 Walsingham disclaimed the merit of the whole. 
 It belonged entirely to his mother. He knew 
 nothing of flowers himself, and had no taste for 
 a garden. 
 
 ^^ You must not believe all this. Doctor," said 
 Lady Clarence, smiling. " Mine might be in
 
 MAX WE>"TWORTH. 93 
 
 part the head to plan, but his was the hand to 
 execute — his the energy to vanquish every ob- 
 stacle as soon as I expressed a wish. T have 
 many causes. Doctor, to make me both fond and 
 proud of my garden." 
 
 Isabel could not refrain fi-om castins: a re- 
 proachftd glance at Melicent, and dra^dng nearer 
 to Lady Clarence, as she saw her eyes ghsten 
 while she looked towards her son. 
 
 " I shall never be surprised at any tiling I 
 hear in praise of Mr. Walsingham," said Mrs. 
 Severn. " He has always appeared to me the 
 heau ideal of what a young man ought to be. 
 Ah, Lady Clarence, you and I are fortunate in 
 our sons ! Were I not afraid of being laughed 
 at as a partial mother, I should say that, in my 
 estimation, Mr. Walsingham ranked as quite an- 
 other Augustus Severn !" 
 
 " Melicent, I hardly know you this morning ! 
 I never saw you ungracious before," was Isabel's 
 remark, as the carriage turned from the gate at 
 which she had witnessed the constrained and
 
 94 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 distant leave-taking between Walsingham and 
 her sister. 
 
 " My ungraciousness, as you call it, Isabel, 
 has, at any rate, effected the purpose for which 
 it was intended," repHed Melicent. " Mr. Wal- 
 singham unquestionably perceives that the sHght 
 attentions with which he has honoured me, are 
 likely to meet with little gratitude ; and will, no 
 doubt, speedily transfer them elsewhere." 
 
 " Then you do not like him ?" said Isabel, in 
 a tone of considerable surprise. " I wish I could 
 imagine the sort of person Hkely to please you, 
 MeHcent. If Mr. Walsingham does not, I must 
 really despau*." 
 
 " I own that, in many respects, Mr. Walsmg- 
 ham does seem to merit approbation and esteem. 
 There is an interest about him, too, when he is 
 seen in his old mansion, not trying to conceal 
 his honourable poverty, not wishing to appear 
 different from what he is, that makes one regret 
 the more the circumstances in which he has 
 been placed. His disposition, perhaps, is one
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 95 
 
 whereon prosperity would have exercised a 
 favourable influence. He might have become 
 less selfish, less worldly, than the mortiiHdng 
 trials to which he has been exposed, have pro- 
 bably contributed to render him." 
 
 " Selfish ! worldly ! — how strangely you talk 
 this morning, Mehcent — how very unlike yoiu'- 
 self ! You who always see things through so 
 favourable a medium, to pass so harsh a censure 
 upon one whose faidts, if he has them, deserve 
 certainly a more merciftd construction at your 
 hands. To me, Mr. Walsingham's softened 
 manner and gentle tone, when he vouchsafed 
 this morning, for almost the fii'st time, to bestow 
 a Httle notice upon me — piqued, no doubt, by 
 your evident avoidance — made him appear the 
 most fascinating person I had ever met with." 
 
 " Poor Lord L}Tnington ! Between Mr. AVal- 
 singham who is present, and ^Ir. ^A'entworth, 
 who m absence possesses so many charms for 
 your imagination, I fear he stands but httle 
 chance."
 
 96 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " Lord Lymington ! He is very good-hu- 
 moured and. pleasant ; but then he is so young, 
 and so extremely happy and uninteresting !*' 
 
 " Thank Heaven, that delusion is at an end !'* 
 Walsingham mentally exclaimed, when return- 
 ing to the house, after accompanying the Miss 
 Wentworths to their carriage. " That I could 
 continue so long in error is all that now appears 
 unaccountable. Melicent Wentworth the wo- 
 man — the wife — my imagination had created; 
 gentle^ devoted, requiring only my love to con- 
 stitute her happiness ! Mr. Tresham deserves 
 my thanks. Had he not proved himself an 
 adept in administering to her vanity and caprice, 
 I might still have been endured as the means of 
 procuring for the spoiled beauty her requisite 
 daily allotment of adulation and excitement. 
 And well would such folly as mine have de- 
 served the punishment ! There was no danger 
 of its extending farther — no danger that Miss 
 Wentworth would ever have dreamed of bestow-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 97 
 
 ing her fair hand upon the presmnptnous owner 
 of these old walls and this impoverished domain ! 
 But there is no douht that, had other amusement 
 failed, I should have offered myself as fair 
 game ; and as it is, if I am ridiculous in my 
 own eyes, it is agreeable to reflect on the hght 
 wherein I must stand in hers !" 
 
 VOL. T.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 *' Mieux voir croitre du chanvre ou ma tour s^'eleva, 
 Qu'une tache ronger le vieux nom de Sylva 1" 
 Victor Hugo. Hkrnani. 
 
 The uneasiness whicli the prolonged absence 
 of his nieces had occasioned to Sir Aithur, 
 was sufficiently manifested by the affectionate 
 warmth of his reception of them on their return, 
 and by the relief which he owned had been 
 afforded to his mind by the arrival of the mes- 
 senger from Marchwood. His interest in their 
 proceedings soon drew from them most of the 
 particulars of the various events of the preceding 
 day ; and, as they sat together in the evening.
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 99 
 
 Isabel, after singing to liim his fayourite songs, 
 felt more than ever desirous of 'interceding 
 for her cousin with one who appeared thus 
 benevolent and considerate. Accordingly, when 
 Sir Arthur began to speak of Lord Lpnington, 
 and of the period during which he had resided 
 in that neighbourhood, summoning all her 
 courage to her aid, she ventured to say, 
 
 " Lord L}Tnington made several enquiries. 
 Sir, respecting Mr. Wentworth ; of whom he 
 said he was an old friend, and whose absence he 
 seemed particularly to lament." 
 
 The visible agitation of Sii* Aithui' caused 
 Isabel immediately to regret what she had said. 
 Her uncle, however, having in some degree 
 recovered his composure, replied as if willing 
 to reassure her ; '' I do not blame you, my dear 
 Isabel, for thus mentioning a subject which 
 must necessarily have excited youi' sui'prise ; 
 especially as you cannot be aware of the pain 
 and mortification to which a recurrence to it 
 must expose me." 
 
 f2
 
 100 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 "Forgive me, my dearest uncle, for my pre- 
 sumption. However much I may wish your 
 happiness to be increased by the restoration 
 of Mr. Wentworth to your favour, I am so fully 
 convinced that the cause must be great indeed 
 which could render one so good and kind thus 
 implacable, that, if such be your desire, I will 
 ]3romise never to offend by naming my cousin 
 again." 
 
 Sir Arthur was for some time silent; and 
 then with a degree of solemnity in his manner, 
 and a shghtly faltering tone, he thus addressed 
 his nieces. ' 
 
 "So dearly do Hove youboth,and so anxiously 
 do I wish that you should love and esteem me 
 as a father, that I will reopen a scarcely closed 
 wound, rather than be accused by you of undue 
 severity. Your cousin's whole conduct, never- 
 theless, has been such as to leave little ground 
 to suppose that he would even deshe to be 
 re-admitted to the house of his forefathers." 
 
 Sir Arthur paused, and Mehcent hastened
 
 MAX TTEXTWORTH. 101 
 
 to assure him that no explanation was reqiiired 
 to convince them of his having been right in 
 what he had done, or to insure affection and 
 reverence from those who were so deeply in- 
 debted to him. Her uncle, however, was now 
 of opinion that his nieces ought to be made 
 acquainted with the cause of their cousin's 
 disgrace ; and ner-sing himself vvith difficulty 
 to the task, he thus continued. 
 
 " During the childhood of Maximilian, many 
 circumstances rendered it improbable that he 
 would ever be the heii* to oiu' family honours. 
 But death has been busy among us, and of all the 
 fail- and goodly supports that then promised 
 to uphold the name of AVentworth, there now 
 remain none, save an infirm old man, and one 
 whom I grieve to be compelled to regard as an 
 unworthy successor. As I have said, my yoimgest 
 brother little thought that his son was likely to 
 become the master of Wentworth Coiut; and 
 this must form his poor excuse for the strange
 
 102 MAX WENTWORH. 
 
 course he adopted, and whicli I vainly endea- 
 voured to prevent. Maximilian, then, while 
 yet a boy, was sent to one of the most riotous 
 of the German Universities ; and there were 
 sown those seeds of evil which, I fear, it is too 
 late ever to hope to eradicate. Years past 
 away, how laden with sadness to our hearts ! — 
 and the neglected boy remained the sole heir 
 to my fortunes, the principal stay 6f my ^ddowed 
 and desolate heart. Impatient of liis absence, 
 I summoned him back to his country : but my 
 feelings may be imagined when I beheld him 
 in language, in costume, the most extravagant 
 imitation of the rebellious German Biirschen ; 
 with hateful maxims of the dehghts of univer- 
 sal equality for ever on his lips, with the most 
 sovereign contempt for the loyal principles of 
 his ancestors, he laughed at the institutions and 
 customs of past and more glorious ages, and 
 turned into subjects for ridicule, the treasured 
 portraits and legends of our race. Yet, deeply 
 as I lamented his degeneracy, I loved the wild
 
 MAX AVENTWORTEI. 103 
 
 youth with a truly paternal affection ; and 
 all might possibly have gone well, and ^laximi- 
 Uan have been reclaimed from the errors of his 
 ways, had he not become entangled in a fatal 
 passion, for one so far beneath him in station, 
 one in every way so unfit to atti'act the notice 
 of my nephew, that even now I can scarcely 
 credit his having stooped so low ; for !Maximi- 
 Han's heart, in spite of his unhappy education, 
 was still that of a true Wentworth." 
 
 " But, dearest uncle," Isabel ventui'ed timidly 
 to interpose — '^ my poor cousin seems to have 
 been more misguided than criminal; and some 
 excuse, sui'ely, may be made for his braving 
 your displeasure, where his heart was, in all 
 probabiht}', most deeply concerned." 
 
 " Isabel, I could have forgiven everything 
 while a hope could be retamed of converting him 
 in time from the destructive principles that filled 
 my soul with horror. Xay, even when I saw 
 him with mind so tainted, taste so degraded, 
 as to allow a tenant's daughter to please his
 
 104 MAX WENTWORTlt. 
 
 degenerate fancy, my forbearance was not at 
 an end ; and repenting of the violence where- 
 with, in the first heat of anger, I had driven 
 him from my presence, I wrote advising him 
 to withdraw himself from home for a period, 
 until this wretched passion should be subdued ; 
 and he could return to be a comfort to my old 
 age. Surely my severity was not dispropor- 
 tioned to the offence ! But you will feel for me 
 when I tell you the contents of the reply which 
 did not reach me until a length of time had 
 passed in miserable anxiety. It was brief, but 
 decisive ; and from the moment of its perusal, 
 I determined to banish the unworthy writer 
 my thoughts. Far from deprecating my anger, 
 from professing contrition for his error, he 
 apprised me that finding his presence was no 
 longer desired at Wentworth Court, he had 
 resolved on employing the time which seemed 
 likely to pass heavily with him, in joining with 
 some old friends in an expedition in support of 
 of the cause of the young Queen of Spain ; and
 
 MAX ^^-EXTWOKTH. 105 
 
 that he hoped on his retui'ii to find my dis- 
 pleasure as completely evaporated, as would be, 
 doubtless, his attachment to the pretty Jemima. 
 Such was my nephew's epistle ; — in this heart- 
 less manner did he put the finishing stroke to 
 his ofiences and my mortifications, by thus rais- 
 ing his arm in defence of a cause opposed, as he 
 well knew, to my love of legitimacy, and 
 respect for the claims of the rightful monarch 
 of that unhappy country ; and Maximilian 
 Wentworth, the sole heir of our loyal and 
 ancient house, is now confounded with a troop 
 of nameless adventurers, in a disgraceful and 
 ignominious contest !" 
 
 " But if he returns, as he doubtless will, 
 convinced that the cause which momentarily 
 attracted his interest deserves not his continued 
 support !" Isabel earnestly exclaimed. 
 
 Her uncle shook his head in answer to her 
 tone of entreaty. 
 
 " Hither, my child, Maximilian will not 
 return. He has ample means at his command 
 
 f5
 
 106 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 to prevent the occurrence of pecuniary diffi- 
 culties ; and the Wentworth title, with entailed 
 property more than sufficient for its maintenance, 
 must be his at no distant period. All whereof 
 I have the disposal shall go where it will be 
 more worthily expended, — where my heart and 
 affisctions have found a better resting-place !" 
 And tenderly embracing his nieces. Sir Arthur, 
 with a slow and feeble step, retired for the 
 night. 
 
 When, the next day, the Miss Wentworths 
 called at the Rectory to inquire after their late 
 companions, Mrs. Tresham had not yet risen, 
 and Mrs. Lambert, alone in the drawing-room, 
 was evidently by no means in her usual good 
 humour. 
 
 " It does seem very unreasonable, I acknow- 
 ledge, to be dissatisfied with any one for Hldng 
 to be quiet, and not give trouble ;" she said, 
 after her complacency had been restored in some 
 degree, as sne declared, by the sight of her young 
 guests' cheerful faces.
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 107 
 
 " But everybody knows I am never qniet 
 myself, and of course I cannot be expected to 
 understand tbis. "WTien people are ill, they 
 want to be niu'sed ; when people are dull, they 
 want to be amused ; but what is to be done ^vith 
 a person who neither moves hand nor foot ; and 
 do what I Tvdll, says only, with her soft voice 
 and sleepy smile, ' Don't trouble yourself, my 
 dear Mrs. Lambert ; — indeed, I am quite com- 
 fortable.' Wishing, no doubt, all the time, that 
 troublesome woman would let her alone !" 
 
 " IVIrs. Tresham is evidently so dehcate that 
 she cannot but have suffered from fatigue and 
 alarm, duiing the storm to which you were all 
 so unfortunately exposed," observed Melicent. 
 
 " She took it quietly enough, as she does 
 everything," answered Mrs. Lambert. " As 
 soon as you were gone she went down to her 
 cabin, and we saw no more of her till her brother 
 carried her to the boat. She was good enough 
 to send her French maid, however, to see it' v/e 
 wanted anything ; only, as you may suppose.
 
 108 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 she was not of much use. When the storm 
 began, I was very thankful, I can assure you, 
 my dear young ladies, to know that you were 
 safe, especially as Mrs. Mortimer became so 
 frightened, and the Miss Severns so ill, that 
 really I hardly knew which way to turn. Then, 
 while we were in this confusion, Mr. Tresham 
 began to quiz us all, in his odd way, wliich I 
 am too old to care for ; but the girls were sadly 
 vexed, and Maria very foolishly cried. At last 
 I told him that I thought he might be better 
 employed than in joining his disagreeable friend 
 Mr. Stanley in laughing at our distresses ; and 
 after that, he tui'ued over quite a new leaf, and 
 was as pleasant and considerate as he had before 
 been provoking and careless." 
 
 " And did not Lord Lymington exert himself 
 to assist his guests ?" asked Isabel. 
 
 ^^ That is just what I was expecting you to 
 inquire, my love ! The fact is, we should never 
 have gone through it as we did without him, 
 and his cheerful looks and speeches whenever he
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 109 
 
 could come to us. But he always was pleasant 
 and good-humom-ed from a boy." 
 
 " How fortunate that you had not to stay out 
 all night in so uncomfortable a condition," said 
 Melicent. " I do not wonder at your resolving 
 to avoid all water -parties for the future." 
 
 " That is what I am sure all the others might 
 be expected to agree in ; or, at any rate, to be 
 able to enjoy a few days spent sociably among 
 us all. But actually there are those three men 
 so infatuated, that they went away this morning 
 in the yacht, as they said, to meet a brother of 
 Mrs. Tresham's at Portsmouth ; but I dare say 
 if she had not fancied herself too unwell for 
 company, and I had been able to make a plea- 
 sant party for them here last night, they would 
 not have tu'ed of their quarters so soon. Cer- 
 tainly, yesterday was the dullest day I ever knew 
 at the Parsonage ! I told them that our In- 
 j&rmary Ball was next Tuesday, and after they 
 were gone, I could not help saying to Mrs. Tre- 
 sham that I was afiraid they might not be back in
 
 110 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 time ; when the provoking woman answered, 
 quite energetically for her, ^ Surely Frank and 
 Tresham will never be foolish enough to come 
 such a distance for a ball !' So I suppose they 
 will not be here after all. I am sure I pity Mr. 
 Tresham for having such a perfect doll of a 
 mfe ! No wonder he should want to get away 
 from her ; and Lord Lymington, I think, never 
 seems happy when he sees them together, and 
 perhaps took him away the sooner for that 
 reason."
 
 CHAPTEE IX, 
 
 '* But trust me, gentles, never yet 
 Was dight a masquing half so neat. 
 
 Or half so rich before : 
 The country gave the sweet perfumes. 
 The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes. 
 The town its silken store." 
 
 Parnell. 
 
 Almost from time immemorial, as Mrs. Lambert 
 assured the Miss AVciit worths. Sir Arthur and 
 his family, with all the priacipal gentiy of the 
 neighboui'hood, had been accustomed to attend 
 the Annual Infirmary Ball at Comerford ; and 
 this year it appeared that Sir Ai'thur promised 
 himself pecuhar gi*atification from the introduc- 
 tion of his nieces, and from witnessing Isabel's 
 enjoyment of her first ball. On such occasions.
 
 112 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 the Town Hall was duly surrendered into the 
 improving hands of mine host of the Dolphin, 
 whose stores and larder were to furnish forth the 
 necessary refreshments ; while the combined 
 talents of himself, wife, daughters, and a number 
 of cognoscente friends, obtained ample field for 
 exercise in the various dainty devices of trans- 
 parencies, floral arches, canopies of evergreens, 
 and rose-coloured draperies, requisite to com- 
 plete, not only the decoration of the salle de 
 danse, but the transformation into a correspond- 
 ing banqueting room of that lower portion of the 
 municipal edifice, where, on days of lesser state, 
 stalls occupied with goodly rows of fish, flesh, 
 and fowl, were ranged in order meet for pur- 
 chase. 
 
 When the party from Wentworth Court en- 
 tered the ball-room, all eyes were naturally 
 attracted towards the beautiful sisters ; and it 
 was with gratitude that, finding she could no 
 longer be permitted to retain her station by her 
 uncle's side, Isabel acceded to Mr. Walsingham's
 
 MAX WE>'TWORTII. 113 
 
 request that she would allow hiin, as her oldest 
 acquaintance there, to be the first honoiu-ed with 
 her hand ; while, flattered by the trusting con- 
 fidence with which she seemed to depend on 
 him for support, and which came opportunely 
 to soothe the pride that had been wounded by 
 her sister's indifference, Walsingham regarded 
 with an admii-ation before unfelt the fau' com- 
 panion, whose manifest timidity so well became 
 her fragile and dehcate lovehness. 
 
 " Oh ! my dear Miss Isabel, was ever anything 
 equal to this in the way of disappointment ?" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Lambert, coming up to Isabel at 
 the conclusion of the dance. " Only think of 
 our all being here, and you and your sister 
 looking so well, and those good Hickleys ha^dng 
 done everything so cleverly about the rooms, 
 and Lord L^mington not getting back in time 
 after all ! I declare what with the doctor laugh- 
 ing at me all the morning, and Mrs. Tresham 
 taking everything so coolly, I was very near 
 follo\\ing theii* example, and going to bed
 
 114 MAX WENTWOKTH. 
 
 quietly after tea, rather tlian come here by my- 
 self." 
 
 " The state of the weather smce Saturday 
 ought to have prepared you for this disappoint- 
 ment, Mrs. Lambert," said Walsingham. " It 
 must be impossible for Lord Lymington, in his 
 schooner, to make the passage from Portsmouth 
 while this wind lasts." 
 
 " So the doctor says ; as if there were no 
 ways of travelling between this and Portsmouth, 
 without waiting for a wind ! However, I am 
 confident that Lord Lymington is not the one in 
 fault; he would have come if he could. I dare 
 say it was that disagreeable Mr. Stanley kept 
 him, or that lazy Mr. Tresham." 
 
 " Of what am I accused, Mrs. Lambert ?" said 
 that gentleman, who had approached unperceived, 
 with Lymington, during the latter part of her 
 speech. " My activity is unimpeachable, after 
 the exertions necessary to get here to-night. 
 Stanley I will surrender to your censure ; he 
 would not come ; but he is a useless fellow in a
 
 MAX WENTAVORTH. 115 
 
 ballroom, and we have enlisted a much more ef- 
 ficient substitute. Let me introduce to you Mrs. 
 Tresham's elder brother. Colonel Lindesay, 
 whom we encountered just landed from Canada. 
 I assure j'ou, after he had heard oiu* account 
 of Comerford and its neighbourhood, very little 
 persuasion of ours was requisite to bring him 
 hither." 
 
 " Oh, we shall do very well ^vithout Mr. 
 Stanley ! — It was for you and Lord L^Tiiington, 
 that Miss Isabel and I were wisliing," said the 
 delighted Mrs. Lambert, shaking hands with 
 them, and acknowledging, with almost equal 
 friendliness, the presentation of then- companion. 
 " But I am afraid you have been sadly hiuTicd. 
 Wliat a pit}^ that the Doctor did not think of 
 sending for me home again to see to your being 
 made comfortable." 
 
 " It would have been impossible for any kind- 
 ness and hospitality to exceed Dr. Lambert's," 
 said Colonel Lindesay ; "kno"wing, howe^-er, that 
 it must be late before wc could reach Comerford,
 
 116 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Lymington's arrangements on the road were such 
 as to render any further detention unnecessary; 
 and finding that my sister had aheady retired 
 we followed you hither >\dth scarcely any delay." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, what a handsome man ! " 
 exclaimed Mrs. Lambert, the moment it was pos- 
 sible for her to address Isabel unheard by the 
 object of her remark. "But only think of Mrs. 
 Tresham's not getting up again to see her brother, 
 when he has been out of England for so many 
 years ! — So highly too as Lord Lymington always 
 speaks of and looks up to him ! Their half- 
 brother he is — the late Lord Lymington married 
 the beautiful Mrs. Lindesay, a widow mth this 
 one little boy. Her first husband was killed in 
 the Peninsula, I fancy." 
 
 " So that is Colonel Lindesay ! " said Mrs. 
 Severn, who had now approached them. *^' And 
 it was his uncle who died last year, leaving that 
 fine property in Argyleshire ? Something quite 
 splendid, I am told. So seldom that one sees a 
 man of fortune with corresponding personal ad-
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 117 
 
 vantages ! — Xow Colonel Lindesay thoroughly 
 looks the chieftain. — Tall and soldierly — and 
 such a remarkably pleasing smile ! — I am quite 
 anxious to see him dance. Keally Miss Went- 
 worth ouo^ht not to be euCTa^ed to Mr. Tresham. 
 Those married men certainly are un pen trop 
 exigeant sometimes in theii- demands upon young 
 ladies' attention." 
 
 " ^\"ell^ I must say, nothing could be ^yorse 
 arranged!" exclaimed Mrs. Lambert, as Lord 
 LjTnington prepared to lead Isabel to the set 
 then forming. "Here are the Miss "Wentworths 
 both engaged, and Colonel Lindesay sitting down 
 with Sir Arthiu' ! — L'pon my word, it is not using 
 your brother yery well to bring liim all this way 
 to a ball, and then not allow him liis choice of a 
 partner ! " 
 
 "Lindesay has had a lucky escape! AVe found 
 him on the point of starting for St. Austin's," 
 said LjTiiington to Isabel, dufing the dance. 
 "After aU, the bore of finding an empty house, 
 would haye been nothing to that of passing a
 
 118 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 fortnight there^ such as I endured wliile the Fal- 
 con was fitting out. Stanley and Laura half 
 dead with ennui, and Tresham in the worst pos- 
 sible humour. I assure you. Miss Wentworth, 
 I appreciate our present good fortune, if Lindesay 
 does not. But I do not think he seems at all 
 disposed to quarrel with his actual position. By 
 the way, how beautiful your sister looks to- 
 night!" 
 
 There was probably no one in the room that 
 evening who would have dissented from Lord 
 Lymington's opinion of Miss Wentworth's ex- 
 celling loveliness ; although one or two cavillers 
 might be found in the crowd, disposed, like 
 Walsingham, to consider that the smiles of 
 Melicent were lavished too liberally on all around 
 her ; and who, unable or unwilling to recognise 
 the kindness of heart, and richly stored intellect, 
 whence her animation derived its source, ascribed 
 it to gratified vanity and the love of indiscrimi- 
 nate admii'ation. Among these cavillers, how- 
 ever, Colonel Lindesay evidently was not to be
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 119 
 
 numbered. Neither the extreme beaut}^ and 
 grace of Miss Wentworth, nor her ^\it and vi- 
 vacit}^, as she and Tresham, at intervals, joined 
 in conversation with Sii* Arthiu' and liimself, 
 failed in producing their due effect upon liim. 
 He hastened, as soon as it was possible, to claim 
 her hand, and continued to be her escort during 
 the general movement which took place upon 
 the announcement of sujiper. They were ac- 
 companied down stairs by Lymington and Isabel, 
 and took their seats at one of the long tables, 
 Tvith Mr. Tresham and Mrs. Lambert immedi- 
 ately opposite. 
 
 " Is not this a dehcious locaHty ?" exclaimed 
 Lymington, glancing admiringly at the garlanded 
 walls and fantastic decorations of the board before 
 them. " These viands ought to have a zest like 
 the fruit one gathers fresh from the ti'ee, or 
 whitebait eaten at Blackwall. My old tutor. 
 Dr. Lambert, would have been reminded of 
 reading Homer among the ruins of Troy. How 
 interesting to reflect that in this very spot, the
 
 120 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 pigeons now lying in tlieir envelope of paste be- 
 fore US, first tempted the purveying eye of Mrs. 
 Hickley — perhaps, who knows ? — cooed their 
 last. Positively, the image is too pathetic — Miss 
 "Wentworth, will yon take wine ?" 
 
 " Yon ^vill infect ns aU with your melancholy," 
 said Melicent. " Even 1 cannot refrain from in- 
 dulging in forebodings of to-morrow's saddened 
 feelings, when the site of this glittering scene 
 shall have reverted to its original destination." 
 
 " Pardon me if I suggest to you. Miss Went- 
 worth," said Colonel Lindesay, "that the me- 
 lancholy usually attendant on the revisiting of 
 some ' banquet hall deserted,' might, in the 
 present case, be alleviated by the useful care of 
 providing for the family dinner. That homely 
 duty might thus, too, be invested with a more 
 romantic garb, and going to market rendered the 
 favourite solace of many a sentimental damsel 
 anxious to recal pleasures too quickly faded." 
 
 "Are you talking about the market place. 
 Miss Wentworth ?" asked Mrs. Lambert, across
 
 MAX WENTWOETH. 121 
 
 the table. " I am sui'e Mr. Hickley deserves in- 
 finite credit for making things look so -vrell. If 
 the Doctor were here to night, he would enjoy 
 telling Colonel Lindesay a number of interesting 
 anecdotes about Charles the Second, when he 
 used to be sta^dng at Wentworth Coui't, and 
 dined in the old Town Hall with the Mayor and 
 Corporation. Mr. Severn!" she continued, calling 
 to the accomplished Augustus, who was seated 
 at a short distance ; " can you tell IMiss "Went- 
 worth and Colonel Lindesay anything about 
 King Charles and the market place ?" 
 
 Mr. Ausrustus Severn, much annoved at tliis 
 interruption of his flirtation ^^ith ^liss Euphemia 
 Jennings, a young lady with very long ringlets, 
 briefly replied, " It really is a subject, madam, 
 upon which I must beg to profess the most pro- 
 found ignorance." He had. however, lost the 
 opportunity' of completing his conquest of Miss 
 Euphemia, towards whom Tresham now turning 
 gravely observed ; " Perhaps we may be more 
 fortunate in obtaining information from Mr. 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 122 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Severn's neighbonr. Miss Jennings ; who, from 
 her striking resemblance to Lely's bewitching 
 portrait of her namesake, I should imagine, may- 
 possess among her family records, traditional 
 details wherewith to favour us of Charles and 
 his court?" 
 
 The fair object of this address looked at first 
 somewhat undecided as to its reception ; but 
 deeming it best to be guided in her reply by 
 her own strict ideas of propriety, she said, in a 
 very emphatic tone and manner :— 
 
 " You must permit me. Sir, to disclaim, Hke 
 Mr. Severn, all acquaintance, and still more any 
 resemblance or connection, with the personages 
 of the very incorrect period to which you have 
 been pleased to allude. I beheve, Mr. Severn, 
 we were discussing the superiority of Moore's 
 poetry over that of Scott or Byron," the young 
 lady added, as she turned to resume her conver- 
 sation with Augustus. 
 
 " Can you not make me useful in any way to-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 123 
 
 night, Miss AVentwortli ?" enquired Mr. Tre- 
 sham, approaching Melicent, during the progress 
 of the galop organized by Lymington and Miss 
 Severn after supper. " Eemember my manful 
 endurance in your service of the angry glances 
 of the sombre Knight of Marchwood, at our last 
 meeting, and reward me by discovering that you 
 have another troublesome suitor to be discouraged. 
 I have not yet told you what a complete heroine 
 you appeared to me when I saw you venturing 
 on that memorable occasion ^Tithin the very den 
 of the green eyed-monster." 
 
 ''My heroism, Mr. Tresham, did not, it 
 seems, inspire you with emulation ; since you 
 refused Mr. Walsingham's hospitable invitation, 
 and suffered me to incur, unwarned and unas- 
 sisted, whatever danger might lurk in the 
 adventure." 
 
 " I can at least assure you of the reluctance 
 with which I saw you quit the schooner, and 
 felt myself obHged to leave you to your fate. 
 
 g2
 
 124 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Marchwood, though not without its capabilities, 
 is certainly not the dwelling I would assign to 
 Miss Wentworth. But do not employ me to 
 find a bower and a knight worthy of you. I 
 should be indeed fastidious ; or rather, I would 
 at once banish all competitors to an immeasurable 
 distance, and declare myself ready, Hke the 
 covetous guardian of some peerless princess 
 of the olden time, to do battle with any who 
 should presume to think themselves worthy of 
 my lovely charge." ' 
 
 "Your unfitness for the post is so evident 
 even to yourself, Mr. Tresham," said Mehcent, 
 laughing, "that I am really at a loss to know 
 how to grant your petition for employment." 
 
 " Nay, while you endure me here, I am 
 working to my heart's content the discomfiture 
 of a host of luckless admirers. My stalwart 
 brother-in-law, for one, is probably adding the 
 present grudge to the long score already run 
 up between us. Do not blush, I entreat you, 
 unless you would draw upon me the summary
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 125 
 
 vengeance of your impatient cavaliers. It 
 you will honour me with your hand in the 
 quadrille now forming, I will, however, defy 
 dirk and claymore, while assured that I am not 
 interfering where others have a better claim to 
 offer themselves." 
 
 Meanwhile, Mrs. Severn, in another part of 
 the room, was employed in re-adjusting her 
 daughter's ringlets, disordered by the rapid 
 motion of the galop. 
 
 "Why will you look so criticisingly, Mr. 
 Walsingham?'' she said to that gentleman, as he 
 stood near her in conversation with Colonel 
 Lindesay. " It is, as you would say, aU very 
 wrong. What indeed can equal the folly of 
 a dance which disarranges the di*ess and spoils 
 the complexion for the remainder of the 
 evening? I have nothing to say in defence of 
 my hoyden — Louisa's spirits are too high. We 
 must share the penalty ; she must remain quiet 
 for the next ten minutes ; and I may be mortified 
 by comparing her appearance with that of !Miss
 
 126 MAX WENTWOBTH. 
 
 Wentworth, who emerges, you see, from her 
 quiet corner with Mr. Tresham, with a toilette 
 as delicately_/rwec^e and soignee as ever." 
 
 ^^ Whatever may be your own sentiments, Mrs. 
 Severn, you have certainly succeeded in mis- 
 interpreting mine," answered Walsingham, with 
 considerable acerbity of manner. " There are 
 dispositions which appear to me likely to lead 
 to much more blameable lengths than the love 
 of dancing. Miss Severn's livehness incurs 
 far less risk of blame from me than does Miss 
 Wentworth's willing admission of such atten- 
 tions as Mr. Tresham's. I beg your pardon, 
 Lindesay," he added, lowering his tone as he 
 turned towards him, " but you must be aware 
 that your brother-in-law's conduct and prin- 
 ciples have not been so entirely sans reproche, 
 as fully to justify a young lady's continued pre- 
 ference of his society." 
 
 " Oh, you men ! who will now accuse us of 
 being uncharitable ?" cried Mrs. Severn, play- 
 fully. " Now I, in my double character of Mamma
 
 MAX WE^'TWOIlTH. 127 
 
 and chaperone, have never found half as many 
 severe things to say upon the chapter of 
 flirtation, as Mr. Walsingham seenis ready to 
 bestow on poor Miss Wentworth for her 
 rational and harmless tete-a-tete in the corner 
 of a ballroom with a married man !" 
 
 " That married man, youi* prudence -v^ill 
 suggest to you, Mrs. Severn, ought not be 
 allowed to keep all others at a distance. It is 
 strange how soon, when a woman once acquires 
 a taste for flattery, she grows bewildered enough 
 by it to forget even the interests of her own 
 darling vanity ! " 
 
 " Poor Mr. Walsingham ! " observed IVIrs. 
 Severn to Lindesay, as Walsingham walked 
 away too much irritated for farther conversation. 
 " One must really make allowance for a little 
 soreness of feeling in his case. Perhaps he 
 was not altogether quite well used. But why 
 should we blame Miss Wentworth ? Fascinating 
 as she is, it is easy to account for Mr. Walsing- 
 ham's mistake. As long as he had the fair lady
 
 128 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 to himself, no doubt lie thought himself the 
 happy man. A little want of cordiality on his 
 part towards your relations, you must overlook, 
 Colonel Lindesay, since it was their arrival that 
 first taught him the insecurity of his position, 
 and their successful competitorship that forced 
 him to retire from the field." 
 
 " Miss Wentworth, from all accounts, appears 
 to be a most accomphshed coquette," remarked 
 Colonel Lindesay. 
 
 " Now that is such an ugly word, I cannot 
 suffer you to apply it to my charming young 
 friend," returned Mrs. Severn. " She has 
 been a beauty from her cradle, you know ; and 
 surely those sweet words and smiles are but the 
 due return for the admiration meeting her 
 everywhere. Colonel Lindesay, you must not 
 remain the only heretic among so many wor- 
 shippers. No one but a cynic could hesitate. 
 I must hear you pronounce her perfection ! " 
 
 " Of Miss Wentworth's beauty there can 
 be no doubt," answered Lindesay somewhat
 
 MAX WE:NT WORTH. 129 
 
 drily. " Less of brilliancy and more of reserve 
 would, I confess, be essential to my ideas of the 
 perfection of the female character." 
 
 "Oh Colonel Lindesay," said Mrs. Severn, 
 smihng, "how many profess such sentiments, and 
 how do they act upon them ? You gentlemen 
 may admire reserve and dignity, indeed, but 
 they seem to keep you effectually at a distance. 
 Compare my poor Maria, on her soKtary 
 banquette, with !Miss Wentworth's cuxle of 
 admirers. But Maria is really too quiet for 
 this showy age of ours. ' Let me alone. Mamma,' 
 she often says ; ^ I am happy as long as I am 
 suffered to creep through life unnoticed and 
 unseen.' " 
 
 Colonel Lindesay glanced in the dii'ection 
 pointed out, but he was doomed to afford by his 
 conduct a practical illustration of Mrs. Severn's 
 theory. Upon the first pretext afforded by an 
 appeal from Lymington, he joined the group 
 that had formed round MeHcent, nor was any 
 trace of the cynicism for which he had been
 
 130 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 upbraided, to be discerned in the feelings wliich 
 detained him by her side during the remainder 
 of the evening, and incited him to rival even 
 Tresham himself in his successful efforts to 
 second the livehness and animation which had 
 not long before been the objects of his repre- 
 hension.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " A dreary place, I ween, it was. 
 And mournful to behold ; 
 Above — tbe winds did doleful blow. 
 Below — dark waters rolled." 
 
 The Dowr Den. 
 
 It would have been difficult for any one to 
 attain a higher degree of merit in the eyes of 
 Mrs. Lambert than she ascribed to Colonel 
 Lindesay, when, on the day after the ball, he 
 declined accompanying Tresham and Lymington 
 on board their yacht ; and disposed himseK to 
 enjoy a quiet morning in his sister's society, 
 after their late separation. But, long before the 
 afternoon, Mrs. Tresham, languid and unwell as 
 usual, had given up aU attempts at conversation.
 
 132 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 and souglit repose, even from listening, on her 
 couch ; and disappointed at the ill success of his 
 endeavours to rouse her to the slightest display 
 of interest or animation, Lindesay at length 
 mounted his horse for a solitary ride, Dr. Lam- 
 bert's engagements preventing him from under- 
 taking his favourite office of cicerone. 
 
 Leaving the banks of the Comerford river, 
 the road he pursued lay for some miles through 
 deep and narrow lanes, terminating in a wide 
 tract of forest-land, where tangled thickets of 
 trees and underwood alternated with patches of 
 barren moor, rendered shppery of passage by 
 the frequent morasses occasioned by the springs 
 of water which rose amidst the turf, and spread 
 in stagnant pools across the path. The only 
 signs of human habitation which had for some 
 time been visible, were afforded after gaining 
 the highest spot on a wild and bleak common, 
 across which the wind, which had been violent 
 all the morning, was now sweeping furiously, 
 driving along vdth it dark masses of clouds.
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 133 
 
 wHch gave a wintry aspect to the scene. A 
 number of low hovels, with mud walls, and roofs 
 covered T^dth furze, so as to be scarcely dis- 
 cernible from the surface of the moor, were 
 scattered around a dark pool, sunk deep beneath 
 high banks, and overhung by a few old and 
 scathed-looking alders ; while, in firont of the 
 huts, as Lindesay di-ew nearer, he saw, sur- 
 rounded by a crowd of uncouth-looking men, 
 and ragged women and children, and attended 
 by a groom, a lady on horseback, in whom he 
 recognised, with some surprise, the beautiful 
 Miss AVentworth of the preceding evening. 
 
 The shght but not ungraceful confusion with 
 which she accosted him, and the gratitude he 
 saw evinced towards her by her rough compa- 
 nions, excited a new interest in Lindesay's 
 m ind; — his voice became unconsciously softer, 
 and his eye betrayed the admiration she had in- 
 spired, while she rode with him to some distance 
 from the scene of their encounter. 
 
 " You will scarcely thank me for being glad
 
 134 MAX WENTWORTH, 
 
 to see you. Colonel Lindesay/' she said, smiling. 
 " I was becoming, though, I believe, without 
 any reason, half afraid of my new friends. This 
 desolate scene, with only a few poor women and 
 children, to whom I hoped to be of service, had 
 nothing to alarm me. But to-day the gale de- 
 tains their husbands from their dangerous trade ; 
 and your appearance, I confess, was as welcome 
 as it was unlooked-for." 
 
 " Danger, in the present case, I think there 
 was little to apprehend," rephed Lindesay, 
 ^' from those whom your kindness appeared 
 for the moment to have thoroughly subdued. 
 The men, I take it for granted, are smugglers ; 
 but, surely, you are not in the habit of venturing 
 with such slender protection into their lawless 
 neighbourhood." 
 
 " My proteges are certainly not of the most 
 respectable description. Colonel Lindesay, and I 
 cannot say much in their defence. The blame 
 of my visits, however, rests partly with Dr. 
 Lambert, who does not think it right to assist
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 135 
 
 them openly himself; but who is so kind-hearted 
 that I doubt not the mo\'ing description he gave 
 me of the extreme poverty of their families was 
 intended to awaken my compassion for the poor 
 people he was not able to reheve. But ought 
 we not to make the best of our way while the 
 ground admits ? Those clouds look more threat- 
 eningly than ever, and a storm iti the middle of 
 Sway Heath would be a worse encounter than 
 any my fears have suggested." 
 
 Her manner had not discouraged lindesay's 
 attendance, and they rode rapidly across the 
 common, in the direction of Wentworth Court. 
 Lindesay looked back for a moment before en- 
 tering upon the rugged descent into a more shel- 
 tered district. 
 
 " It is dreary, indeed," he remarked ; " and 
 yet, -svill you beheve it. Miss Wentworth ? I 
 leave this desolate spot with a regret more varied 
 and cultivated scenes would scarcely produce. 
 As I look around on this barren moor, with the 
 angry wind careering over it, raising the heather
 
 136 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 and the fern^ it is as though I were once more 
 among my native wilds ; and you know not the 
 charm of that feehng to a Highlander, when the 
 very air he breathes seems purer and more exhi- 
 larating, as it sweeps uncontaminated over the 
 blooming heather !" 
 
 " I will forgive your contempt for hedge-rows 
 trim and alleys green. Colonel Lindesay," re- 
 plied Melicent. " Even for southern imagina- 
 tions, Scotland possesses so much romantic in- 
 terest, that the claims of our tamely picturesque 
 scenery are readily yielded, even by those, like 
 myself, to whom your mountain glens and fast- 
 nesses are as yet untrodden ground." 
 
 " Would that the wizard power were mine. 
 Miss Wentworth, to transport you by a wish to 
 some of those spots among which my'ichildhood 
 was passed — on the summit of Ben Venue, for 
 instance, to look down thence on the glorious 
 Trosachs pihng their rocky pyramids, with their 
 beautiful crown of oak and ivy mingUng with the 
 Alpine pine, the mountain ash, and the graceful
 
 MAX WENTWOKTH. 137 
 
 branclies of the weeping biixh, between the 
 sister waters of Loch Katrine and Loch Achray. 
 
 " Craigs, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled. 
 The fragments of an earlier world." 
 
 " I woiild^ too, that you could witness those 
 changing aspects which his native hills are con- 
 stantly assuming to the Highlander. At one 
 moment the rushing wind raises the eddjdng 
 mists as from an abyss, then pours them again 
 from above in dark masses, till the mountains 
 are veiled entirely fi'om ^dew : — the next, the 
 clouds before them are lifted like a curtain to 
 display their bold and rugged outlines, Ht up 
 by a sudden gleam of sunshine, with the dis- 
 persing vapours rolHng far away, twisting and 
 wreathing into strange and phantom-like forms." 
 " You have said quite enough. Colonel 
 Lindesay, to make me for ever discontented 
 with the lot which places me merely in the most 
 beautiful county of England ; you must not now 
 refuse to atone for the mischief you have
 
 138 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 "WTought^ by continuing to transport me, in fancy 
 at least, among tlie scenes you describe so 
 vividly." 
 
 " Let me be your guide then, Miss Went- 
 worth, on a walk such as you could scarcely j&nd 
 elsewhere than in the Highlands. Imagine 
 yourself in a green valley — mountains covered 
 with verdure rising gradually on either hand ; 
 and becoming, as you proceed, more rocky and 
 abrupt. Ascending slowly, you are now wind- 
 ing along a steep ravine — below you foams and 
 thunders a mountain torrent, dashing impetu- 
 ously over its rocky bed; wliile, farther on, a 
 rude Alpine bridge hangs above the cataract, 
 amidst a thousand wreaths of ivy and feathering 
 shrubs that fringe its jagged supports. Dare 
 you cross that narrow bridge. Miss Wentworth, 
 unprovided as it is with any kind of parapet ?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! with your assistance I am sure I 
 shall achieve the exploit safely ; and it would, 
 indeed, require no slight risk to deter me from 
 proceeding on such a ramble."
 
 MAX WEXT WORTH. 139 
 
 " You are worthy of being taken through 
 such scenes," said Lindesay, smiling ; " there- 
 fore we A\ill conclude the other side fairly 
 attained, since I would not yet recommend you 
 to pause on the dizzy height and look down, on 
 the roaring flood ; and, now, we will pursue our 
 walk along a rough and stony path, bringing us, 
 after a descent of some length, suddenly upon 
 the shore of one of our mountain lakes. Black 
 masses of rock rise abruptly on every side ; and 
 standing beside those motionless waters, one 
 might beheye no foot had ever trespassed on 
 that soHtude — no himian Yoice ever distui'bed 
 its lonely silence. All at once the stillness is 
 broken — ^your approach has roused the numerous 
 wild fowl that inhabit the lone tarn ; and with 
 shrill screams they rise in clouds into the air, 
 wheeling round and round, and awakening the 
 countless echoes by theh noisy cries. Some- 
 times, indeed, the stillness may remain iminter- 
 rupted, save by the eagle or the heron, those
 
 140 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 birds of solitude, whose presence marks the spot 
 as seldom visited by man." 
 
 " I feel indeed like an intruder, and as if the 
 sounds you have named should be solely per- 
 mitted to disturb such appropriate silence. But 
 your glens and valleys cannot remain unte- 
 nanted ; — they are haunted by the spirits of the 
 past, and the visionary associations of romance, 
 and you will have to furnish me with a legend 
 for every flood and fell. I assure you I have 
 superstition enough, now my imagination is 
 thoroughly excited, to please the wildest of your 
 Gaelic Seers." 
 
 " You would be invaluable as a victim to be 
 lionized there ! You would people the caves of 
 Staffa and the hills of woody Morven with the 
 ghosts of Fingal and Ossian ; and beheve, as 
 you gazed upon the roaring Corra Linn, that you 
 saw along its banks 
 
 " Sweep visibly the Wallace wight !" 
 '^ Nay, Colonel Lindesay, this is treacherous !
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 141 
 
 I am unused to be taxed with romance, and 
 cannot allow you to laugh at an enthusiasm with 
 which you have yourself embued me ; for, cer- 
 tainly, even oiu' short acquaintance has taught 
 me that the Colonel Lindesay of ordinary society, 
 and Colonel Lindesay talking of the Highlands 
 on a barren moor, are two yery different per- 
 sons." 
 
 Liadesay smiled again; for such, had they 
 been acknowledged, would have appeared his 
 own thoughts, at that moment, with regard to 
 his companion. He was wrong, notwithstand- 
 ing ; since the change, in fact, lay not in herself, 
 but in his perception of her character ; and it 
 was the frailty of his man's nature that caused 
 the graces which had almost given him umbrage, 
 when displayed in a ball-room, in the fi-ank 
 guilelessness of their owner's heart, to acquire a 
 very different interest when exerted for him 
 alone, without other eye or ear at hand to 
 admire or be gratified. He contented himself 
 with replying,
 
 142 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 " It is yon, Miss Wentworth, who may well 
 be entitled to langh at the rhapsodies in which I 
 have indulged. But you are the only person I 
 have lately met with inclined to sympathise in 
 the pride and affection wherewith I regard my 
 native hills ; and your kind interest has led me 
 to be more figurative than is my wont. We 
 have now, however, left far behind us the spot 
 where I was first reminded of my own savage 
 soHtudes ; and I hope to become again a rational 
 being, as we return to civilised life and cultivated 
 scenery." 
 
 Although Mehcent possessed not, like Isabel, 
 the faculty of investing with romance the events 
 and personages of ordinary hfe^ she was not the 
 less capable of fully appreciating true elevation 
 of mind and character. The conversation which 
 had sprung from her accidental encounter with 
 Lindesay, had to both the charm of developing, 
 almost strangers as they were, feelings which
 
 MAX AVEXTWOKTH. 143 
 
 few casual observers would hare suspected in 
 either of them ; — MeHcent's engaging manners 
 as effectually concealing real depth of feehng, 
 and the ardour of a warm and generous nature, 
 as did the reserved demeanour of the man whom 
 she had beheld as the chieftain among his native 
 mountains. Having Httle expected Mrs. Tre- 
 sham to partake in the interest inspired by 
 Lindesay's vivid descriptions, it was with sur- 
 prise that Mehcent found the details of her 
 morning's ride regarded by her with unwonted 
 curiosity. 
 
 " And so Kenneth talked to you about the 
 Highlands ?" she said, after availing herself of 
 the opportunity of being left alone with Meh- 
 cent, to di'aw from her every particular of her 
 meeting with her brother. " How very pleasant 
 it must have been, and how well you must have 
 entered into it all, for him to be so enthusiastic ! 
 Oh ! you would be dehghted with liim if you 
 saw Strathmorven, and knew aU the good he
 
 144 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 does there. He is so active and independent, 
 and so like you in many things. HeW well you 
 would suit each other 1" 
 
 " I wish Colonel Lindesay could have seen 
 you listening to me a moment ago !" said Meh- 
 cent, laughing. " How strange it is that you 
 should show more interest in my repetition than 
 when I saw him taking so much pains to please 
 and amuse you." 
 
 " That is because hearing you is hke hearing 
 Kenneth himself, and with you I am not fright- 
 ened as I always am when he begins to talk 
 to me. I dare say he thinks I do not like him at 
 all because I never do speak to him ; but really 
 I think it would be the most delightful thing in 
 the world to be Kenneth's wife ; and I should 
 like it beyond measure, only it v/ould not do for 
 him to have any one so lazy as I am; and Tre- 
 sham suits me exactly, because he never troubles 
 himself about me, and does not care what I 
 do."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " The steps 
 Young ladies tread, left to iheir o^yn discretion. 
 However wisely printed, are observed 
 r And construed as the lookers-on presume." 
 
 The Lady's Trial. 
 
 " Yor will remain some time in the south, 
 then ? since I conclude that from Dorsetshire 
 you go to St. Austin's, where Mr. Tresham talks 
 of residing till the autumn," said "V\^alsingham 
 to Lindesay, as they pursued together the un- 
 frequented track along the chiFs, which formed 
 the shortest path between Comerford and March- 
 wood. 
 
 " There is Httle dependence to be placed on 
 any of Tresham's plans," replied his companion. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 MAX WENTWOHTH. 
 
 " My present engagement to my old friend and 
 brother officer, Chudleigli, is of long standing ; 
 and after its fulfilment, business connected with 
 my leaving the army will take me up to town. 
 If I go to Tresbam's, therefore, it will not be till 
 the end of the summer, when his fancy for yacht- 
 ing and retirement will probably be over. I 
 own I shall not be sorry to be spared the visit. 
 It is easy to see that no improvement has taken 
 place in a household too nearly connected with 
 me to be viewed with indifference ; and wherein 
 I can now scarcely imagine Tresham the only 
 one to blame, or hope that my sister is the kind 
 of woman to improve her own prospects of hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " Mrs. Tresham's position is one that few 
 women would endure as unblameably," returned 
 Walsingham ; " and while men like your bro- 
 ther-in-law are universally courted in society, 
 her influence can be expected to weigh but 
 lightly against the flatteries of such women as 
 Mehcent Wentworth. / have learned to appre-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 147 
 
 ciate your sister's qiiiet and retiring demeanour, 
 and should regret to see it exchanged for the 
 meteor-like brilliancy of her rival." 
 
 " Certainly I should not have thought of com- 
 paring Laura and Miss Wentworth," repHed 
 Lindesay ; " had I done so, I fear the inference 
 would scarcely have been so much to my sister's 
 advantage. Your severity, the other night, 
 Walsingham, did not lead me to imagine Miss 
 Wentworth Hkely to be found unostentatiously 
 relieving distress, and extending the sphere of 
 her gentleness and grace to a set of beings whom 
 she alone seemed to have had the active bene- 
 volence to discover and assist." 
 
 " Graceful I dare be sworn she was !" re- 
 marked AValsingham, sarcastically. " Were vou 
 not there to admire ? I have heard of the ad- 
 venture, and doubted not its effect upon you. 
 Before gi*ace and tact so inimitable, all barriers 
 founded on earher prejiidices and opinions 
 vanish into nothing. Dangerous at all times, 
 there she must have been irresistible ; and I can 
 
 h2
 
 148 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 readily believe that, within four-and-twenty 
 hours. Miss Wentworth's versatile genius and 
 admirable knowledge of character, would con- 
 vert her, from the gay and animated beauty, to 
 the charitable saint and the romantic enthusiast. 
 Yet even the excitement of a Comerford ball, 
 and the smiles she could not refrain from be- 
 stowing on that ridiculous Fosbrooke, might 
 have shown you her real character." 
 
 " She was amused by his excessive pompo- 
 sity ; but that surely was pardonable. You are 
 harsh in your judgment, "VValsingham. Miss 
 Wentworth's amiability of disposition at least is 
 vouched for by the warm affection she seems to 
 have secured from almost all around her." 
 
 *^ She once possessed mine !" said Walsing- 
 ham, gloomily ; " and bitterly has my knowledge 
 of her heartlessness been attained. Others 
 must pay the same price — ^but yours is not a 
 heart to be thrown away upon a mere coquette. 
 Avoid her, Lindesay, for hers are the very fas- 
 cinations most dangerous to a man of refined
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 149 
 
 tastes and habits. The owner of these old 
 walls and decayed estates was but a toy for her 
 amusement — you may be a -s-ictim to be secured ; 
 but once your vrife, no Highland castle will be 
 Mehcent's home. Your pursuits must be sacri- 
 ficed at the shrine of vanity — your existence 
 frittered away among associates you despise, 
 unless you can endure the perpetual complaints 
 and hopeless ennui of the spoiled beauty, weep- 
 ing for the days of triumphant conquest in her 
 remote and uncongenial solitude." 
 
 "Walsingham spoke with the energy of con- 
 viction; for, ever distrustful of excellence in 
 women, and still smarting under the effect of 
 Melicent's repulses, he had persuaded himself 
 of her utter incapabihty of meriting the affection 
 of such a man as Lindesay ; nor was the latter 
 unmoved by the imflattering picture he had 
 drawn. 
 
 " You have exaggerated my danger," he re- 
 plied, after a pause. " Alive as I own myself 
 to be to charms of manner and person like Miss
 
 150 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Wentwortli's^ such, is not the woman of whom I 
 could ever think seriously. Mj home will be 
 at Strathmorven — there must my wife find her 
 happiness ; — attached to it are all my plans 
 for the future ; there is not a' spot among its 
 mountains and glens, or a peasant in its cottages, 
 that is not endeared to me by numberless asso- 
 ciations ; and it was only by the apparent depth 
 of such natural and simple emotions, aroused 
 by my own enthusiasm, that Miss Wentworth 
 won me to become, for the time, her advocate." 
 Walsingham and Lindesay, with the whole 
 party from the Parsonage, had dined at Went- 
 worth Court on this, the last evening of Colonel 
 Lindesay's stay at Comerford. His departure 
 was followed, within a few days, by that of Mr. 
 Tresham and Lord Lymington, on a cruize 
 which they talked of extending as far as the 
 Mediterranean. Mrs. Tresham, by Sir Arthur's 
 invitation, was to spend the period of their ab- 
 sence at Wentworth Court ; and Melicent and 
 Isabel contemplated with some misgiving, the
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 151 
 
 prospect of a lengthened ^isit from one who ap- 
 peared so Httle capable of amusing or occuppng 
 herself. When comfortably settled in her new 
 abode, however, their guest was very far from 
 creating any of the annoyance they had antici- 
 pated. As long as she was indulged in the lux- 
 ury of perfect idleness, ^Irs. Tresham always 
 appeared tolerably contented ; and her easy tem- 
 per, and pleasing, though rather affected man- 
 ners, rendered her, in fact, a more desirable 
 inmate than many of livelier intellect might 
 have proved. Happy in being called upon for 
 no exertion of body or mind, she was fully satis- 
 fied to recHne upon a sofa, half asleep over the 
 pages of a very quiet book, and desirous of no 
 other species of entertainment ; although, when 
 her really delicate health permitted, and her 
 intimacy with the sisters increased, her spii-its 
 would occasionally rise so far as to render her 
 conversation even agreeable. 
 
 It was not very long before the kindly and 
 affectionate disposition of the sisters inspired
 
 152 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 them with a degree of attachment for their indo- 
 lent companion, whose amiabihty and gentleness 
 became apparent, on farther acquaintance ; and 
 MeHcent, in particular, was visibly attracted, by 
 a character and manners so different, in most 
 respects, from her own. Many pleasant hours 
 of the day were now spent by the side of Mrs. 
 Tresham's sofa, on their return from the walks 
 and rides, wherein she could never be persuaded 
 to join; and long after Sir Arthur had retired 
 for the night, she would protract her stay in 
 the drawing-room, amused by Mehcent's lively 
 conversation, or listening to the music of Isabel's 
 harp and voice, — her own soft and engaging 
 manners deriving peculiar interest from the 
 alteration which had almost unconsciously taken 
 place in their former lifeless inanity. 
 
 *' I cannot understand," said she, one even- 
 ing, while reposing in her luxurious fauteuil, 
 with her pretty little feet embedded in the soft- 
 est of footstools, — "I cannot understand how 
 people looking delicate and feminine, like you
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 153 
 
 and Isabel, can endure the extreme fatigue and 
 excitement to which you are constantly exposed. 
 Half your exertion woidd kill me in a week ! " 
 
 " Oh no ! — you would not only survive it, but 
 be greatly the better for the moderate exercise. 
 Try it, and I am certain you would find the va- 
 riety' dehghtM." 
 
 " Impossible, my dear ! I abhor variety and 
 excitement, for which Tresham is continually 
 longing, and di-agging me about from place to 
 place in quest of it. If he will not consent to 
 leave me in peace, in some spot where I may 
 establish myself for the remainder of my life in 
 such an easy chaii- as this, without greater va- 
 riety than a change to one of your comfortable 
 sofas, we shall be compelled finally to separate, 
 on the ground of thorough incompatibilit}^ of 
 taste." 
 
 " Yet it is the common opinion, that contrast 
 of disposition is conducive to matrimonial feh- 
 city ; you, I am sm-e, are entertained by Mr. 
 
 h5
 
 154 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Tresham's vivacity, and he, in return, must 
 certainly find in you an invaluable listener." 
 
 " Tresliam's vivacity ! — lie has usually dread- 
 fully low spirits. — I assure you when we are 
 alone, I am much the hveliest of the two, — for 
 really, though very often ill, wearied, and good 
 for nothing, I scarcely ever felt unhappy in my 
 life." 
 
 '^ Indeed ! — few, I should imagine, could say 
 as much; and yours must, after all, have been an 
 unusually fortunate lot." 
 
 " No, — I rather think not," answered Mrs. 
 Tresham, smiling ; — ^^ and incline to ascribe it 
 principally to the easiness of my temper. What 
 will you say, Isabel, when I tell you that, in 
 other hands, my history, which I want energy 
 to relate, once promised to assume as romantic 
 an aspect as even you could desire ? " 
 
 " Is it possible ? — you do indeed surprise me, 
 for I should have fancied that you had always 
 been the object of such care, — such a regularly 
 spoiled child, that nothing could ever have been
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 1.55 
 
 allowed to happen to you. Now, however, 
 you may be certain that I shall not leave you at 
 rest, until you have told me every thing, — so 
 pray begin your adventures at once." 
 
 " Adventures ! — Heaven forbid that I should 
 have imdergone any ! — I only said, that another 
 might have looked for them, in the position 
 wherein I was x^^aced ; for my birthplace, Isa- 
 bel, and the scene where my first girlhood was 
 spent, was that Italy I have heard you express 
 so earnest a lons^ns: to behold." 
 
 ''In Italy, — in that dehghtfal land of ro- 
 mance ? Oh, how I envy you ! — ^but do pray 
 tell us all you saw there, and every thing you 
 used to do." 
 
 •''Do? — ^nothing: ! — see ? — the hisrhborn women 
 of that sunny clime are too indolent even to look 
 around them, — and my father's sister, with whom 
 I was left after my mother's death, was married 
 to a Milanese nobleman, and had completely 
 adopted the habits of his country. You see, 
 Isabel, that in my Itahan home, and yet more
 
 156 
 
 MAX WENTWOUTH. 
 
 in the character of my guardian, (for she was 
 cold and haughty enough to inspire any one 
 with fear,) I possessed ample advantages in the 
 heroic line. But I suppose I had too little 
 talent that way to be miserable. I was neglect- 
 ed, it is true ; nor do I remember ever receiving 
 one mark of affection from the Marchesa, who, 
 beyond directing that I should receive an edu- 
 cation suitable to my rank, never seemed to 
 think about me at all. My wish for occupation 
 never was greater than it is now ; but I had a 
 short and easy routine of daily tasks, and these 
 performed, it was sufficient enjoyment to lie for 
 hours beneath that sultry chmate, dreaming, Isa- 
 bel, I fear I must confess, of nothing more ro- 
 mantic than the pleasant idleness I might now 
 indulge in for the rest of the day. I had none 
 to love but myself, nothing to disturb me, except 
 the recurrence of my stated lessons, — no indul- 
 gence beyond the satisfaction of the dolce far 
 nitnte.''^ 
 
 '* Where were your brothers all this time V
 
 MAX WENTWORTII. 157 
 
 asked ^Nlelicenr. '- Lord L}iningtoii surely loves 
 you tenderly.- and his natui-e and feelings appear 
 warm and animated in the extreme." 
 
 " Oh, I love Frv.nk more than aU. the world ; 
 though he is so actie and hvely, that I know 
 my laziness annoys liim. But he was then at 
 school in England ; and Kenneth, owing to his 
 being T^'ith his regiment, I never saw, till after 
 my marriage, when he disliked Tresham so 
 much, that I was not soiry for his being ordered 
 abroad again. ]\Iy father ' died before I was 
 fifteen, and the guardians he had appointed 
 claimed the care of me, just when circumstances 
 inspired the Marchesa Avith needless apprehen- 
 sions concerning the trouble I might hence- 
 forward occasion her. My large fortune was 
 known, and the young Milanese cavaliers began 
 to assemble round our eqiupage on the Corso ; 
 more than one serenade A\as given under my 
 windows, and more than one billet was cast into 
 my lap, A\ith a bouquet oi flowers, during our 
 evening drive. I was too much of a child to
 
 158 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 pay any attention to their courtship, — ^their 
 troublesome music only sent me to sleep, and I 
 gave the notes, unopened, to the Marchesa. 
 Still her fears were not to be quieted, and it was 
 with evident satisfaction that she consigned me 
 at last to my English guardians, who were eager, 
 I suppose, to profit by my wealth, and certainly 
 cared httle personally about me. Well, my 
 dears, to England I came, — to my guardian's 
 country seat; — to town. I was dressed, para- 
 ded, — carried about to balls and operas, — from 
 one scene of festivity to another. I had not 
 energy of will to resist, — I had not energy of 
 body to support it ; — and that London season 
 was certainly tlie most miserable portion of my 
 existence. I was not desirous of marrying, — I 
 hated the trouble of the thing ; but anything 
 was preferable to the life I was then leading, — 
 and Tresham's proposals were made at the mo- 
 ment when I was tired to death after a crowded 
 dejeuner, and had just been informed of the 
 necessity of joining a delightful party going
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 159 
 
 do^^^l to the Dake of Richmond's, for Good- 
 wood races. The opportunity for escape was 
 irresistible. I accepted Tresham, and made 
 that an excuse for not accompanying my friends. 
 "As Tresham perfectly agreed with me in 
 wishing to avoid as much of the annoyance of a 
 wedding as possible^, we were married very pri- 
 vately, and then went down to Derbyshire, for a 
 month's grouse shooting. — I have heard many 
 people complain of the irksomeness of what is 
 called the honey-moon, but really I thought 
 mine very comfortable, after the journey was 
 over. ^Ir. Tresham met a large part}' of friends, 
 with whom he was out on the moors all day, 
 while I was able to do exactly what I pleased, — 
 which with me meant doing nothing. Then, 
 when they came back in the evening, we ma- 
 naged very well, for they were generally so tu'ed 
 that they were half asleep ; and, altogether, it 
 really was so very nice, that I have gone down 
 with Tresham every year since our marriage, to 
 that pleasant house near Castleton, and always
 
 160 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 felt sorry when he grew tired of grouse shoot- 
 ing. But can it be possible, that I have made 
 you sit up half the night, listening to my history ! 
 — How very absurd ! — Tresham would think 
 me crazy ! " 
 
 And before the Miss Wentworths had ceased 
 remarking upon the insight afforded by her 
 narrative, into the causes which might have 
 originally produced her inertness of disposition, 
 Mrs. Tresham's eyes had closed in peaceful and 
 dreamless slumbers.
 
 CHATTER XII. 
 
 " The boat ridos couth o' Ailsa's craig. 
 In the do ipin o' the night ; 
 There's thirty men at Lendalfit, 
 To mak' her burthen light." 
 
 AiNSLIE. 
 
 " Of whom is to-day's part}' to consist ?" in- 
 quired Mrs. Tresham, as, worn out -s^ith the 
 fatigue of di-essing and walking from her apart- 
 ment to the drawing-room, she sank into her 
 arm-chair, near the table, at which Mehcent was 
 arranging some beau' ad hot-house flowers. 
 " I never saw you both look so lovely. On 
 whose account can you have "O evidently arrayed 
 yourselves for conquest ?" 
 
 " Is it possible," asked Mehcent, T\ith affected
 
 162 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 wonder, " that you do not know that Mr. Fos- 
 brooke dines here to-day ?" 
 
 " I am not even aware of ever having heard 
 of the existence of this particular Mr. Fos- 
 brooke. Pray who may he be ?" 
 
 " He is an Indian nabob," rephed Mehcent ; 
 " so wealthy, that even the jewels he wears on 
 his person would make one comfortable for life ; 
 and so old, that one might entertain a reasonable 
 hope of enjoying his possessions one day with- 
 out encumbrance. I am told that he professes 
 himself my devoted admirer, and that he is 
 looking out for a wife. What course would you 
 advise me to pursue ?" 
 
 " Oh ! marry him, by all means, my dear 1 
 Those old Indians must make most desirable 
 husbands; for they are so accustomed to the 
 indolent habits of that delightful country, that 
 they would never expect theh wives to do any- 
 thing but lie on a sofa all day and look pretty — 
 which is the pleasantest thing imaginable !" 
 
 Melicent could not agree with Mrs. Tresham,
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 163 
 
 and thought that the indolent husband would 
 require waiting on ; and would probably, there- 
 fore, need an active wife, besides being too 
 selfish to allow his helpmate the repose so much 
 prized by himself. In the midst of their dis- 
 cussion, Mr. Fosbrooke, a cadaverous -looking 
 personage, wearing multifarious chains and costly 
 gems, was announced. The fii'st salutation 
 over, he began, addressing himself pointedly to 
 Melicent ; — 
 
 " I have this morning been completing the 
 purchase of an estate. Miss Wentworth, for 
 which I have been some time in treaty. Thorn- 
 borough Park, of which you have probably 
 heard, is situated about eight miles hence. 
 The mansion is at present nothing more than a 
 comfortable Enghsh dwelling ; but now that it 
 has passed into my possession, I propose to fit it 
 up in a st}'le of unequalled Eastern magnificence ; 
 and, after the completion of some necessary pre- 
 vious arrangements, it is my intention perma-
 
 164 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 nently to reside there, and in time to render the 
 place a perfect Elysium." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mrs. Tresliam, greatly 
 amused with Melicent's pompous admirer ; 
 " Thornborough Park will then be quite a 
 benefit to the neighbourhood." 
 
 " Depend upon it, Mr. Fosbrooke," said Sir 
 Arthur, " you had better not say too much about 
 it, lest all the young ladies in the county should 
 be manoeuvring to obtain a share in this paradise. 
 There is my friend Mortimer's voice in the hall 
 — what say you to his pretty sister-in-law, Miss 
 Jennings ?" 
 
 " Really, Sir Arthur, you are very obhging to 
 have already selected a wife for me ; although 
 Miss Jennings by no means approaches my 
 standard of female lovehness. However, I shall 
 remember your kind concern for my matrimonial 
 welfare, and will certainly consult you on the 
 point before coming to a final decision." 
 
 Miss Euphemia had heard the propriety of 
 manner and behaviour of Miss Isabel Went-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 165 
 
 worth highly commended; and therefore, to 
 the great surprise of her companion, whilst they 
 were walking together in the gardens after 
 dinner, she suddenly broke silence to ask her 
 what was her opinion of JUrting ; and then, 
 whilst Isabel paused in some perplexity, she 
 went on with great fluency. 
 
 " In my opinion it is the most shocking thing 
 possible. Now Matilda and I are disputing 
 about it from morning till night ; and I was de- 
 termined to ask you, because I knew you would 
 agree with me in thinking it very wrong 
 indeed." 
 
 " I really never thought much about it," said 
 Isabel, greatly entertained ; " but I do not see 
 any harm in talking and laughing, if that is what 
 you mean." 
 
 " Oh no, that is not what people mean by 
 flirting !" replied Miss Euphemia, looking very 
 wise. " I assure you I think it so very repre- 
 hensible, that I made a vow when I came out 
 never to take a tete-a-tete walk with a gentleman
 
 166 MAX WEISTWORTH. 
 
 as long as I lived. Do you not think I was quite 
 right?" 
 
 " Quite so, if you believed that any harm 
 was likely to be the consequence of your doing 
 so." 
 
 " Is it possible. Miss Isabel, that you do not 
 think it wrong to walk alone with a gentleman?" 
 interrupted Miss Euphemia, with a face of 
 horror. " You are just like Matilda; who', 
 though a married woman, ridicules my strict 
 ideas of propriety." 
 
 " Perhaps Mrs. Mortimer understands as Httle 
 as I do the precise degree of indecorum in such 
 a proceeding," replied Isabel; while at that 
 moment, as if to display the deplorable state of 
 the morals of the Wentworth family, Mehcent 
 and Mr. Fosbrooke were seen quietly approach- 
 ing from an opposite walk. 
 
 " Oh ! I suppose you spoke as you did out of 
 consideration for your sister. Miss Isabel," said 
 her companion, with exultation ; " she is a ter- 
 rible flirt, I know — I should not have asked her 
 opinion on the subject."
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 167 
 
 " You would find it the same as mine. Miss 
 Jennings, since her conduct in all respects is 
 what I most wish to imitate. If you accuse Me- 
 licent of flirting, I cannot imagine that it can 
 mean anything more than laughing and talking ; 
 but I must confess that you appear much better 
 qualified than my sister to give advice upon the 
 subject." 
 
 Isabel spoke with unusual warmth, quickening 
 her pace at the same time to meet her sister, 
 whom she could not submit to hear censured 
 by Miss Euphemia ; and whose manners, in fact, 
 appeared to her to unite every perfection of grace 
 and propriety. 
 
 Mr. Fosbrooke, having caught sight of MeU- 
 cent from the window, had, on the gentlemen 
 quitting the dining-room, used his best exertions 
 to overtake and join her; and ha^-ing just 
 accomphshed this, was now not a Httle displeased 
 at so speedy a termination to the tete-a-tete he 
 had planned. No hope of its recui-rence coidd 
 be at present entertained, since, on regaining
 
 168 MAX WEKTWORTH. 
 
 the terrace, the rest of the party were found 
 assembled there. Even Mrs. Tresham had 
 allowed her sofa to be wheeled out, and was 
 gaily talking to Lady Clarence ; and Sir Arthur 
 himself felt so unusually animated, that he not 
 long afterwards invited such of his friends as 
 were inclined, to walk with him down to the 
 sea shore; and, with the exception of Lady 
 Clarence and Mrs. Tresham, the whole party 
 set out on the expedition he had proposed. 
 
 The path selected by Sir Arthur led, at the 
 distance of about half a mile from the house, 
 into a narrow bridle road, descending upon the 
 rough, shingly beach. The party had just 
 quitted the shelter of the plantations, and en- 
 tered upon the stony, though gradual decHvity, 
 when a man's head was suddenly raised above a 
 stone wall not far from the road side ; "and 
 though it was evident that the individual who 
 had been lurking there did not desire to elude 
 their observation, and was, in fact, one of the 
 preventive -service men, it was still a matter of
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 169 
 
 some diiEculty to quiet the easily excited ap- 
 prehensions of Mrs. Mortimer and Miss Jen- 
 nings upon witnessing the alarming apparition. 
 Mr. Mortimer had meanwhile fallen back for a 
 moment to enter into discourse with the man, 
 who appeared desirous of speaking to him ; 
 and now overtook them, as the foremost of the 
 walkers gained the beach, and stood admii*ing 
 the tints of the glowing sunset reflected upon the 
 waves that broke at their feet. 
 
 *^ I find the story Pat has to tell me is likely 
 to last some time," said Mr. Mortimer, as he 
 rejoined them. " The evening is growing late 
 for the ladies, and also for you, Sir Arthur. Is 
 there no nearer mode of returning to the Court 
 than the circuitous path by which we arrived 
 here ?" 
 
 *'If the ladies are not afraid of the ascent, 
 and you, my good friend, will lend me yoiu' arm, 
 there is a path yonder, steeper, it is true, than 
 the other, but which will considerably shorten 
 the distance to the house. Mrs. Mortimer, I 
 
 VOL, I. I
 
 170 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 trust that yon and Miss Jennings will not suffer 
 from my imprudence, in bringing you so far at 
 this late hour. My nieces are perhaps more ac- 
 customed to walking ; but Isabel, I perceive, is 
 not half wrapped up." 
 
 The ladies, though not apprehensive of cold 
 for themselves, were desirous of Sir Arthur's 
 speedy return home, and therefore agreed to the 
 proposed change of route. Having seen them 
 to the summit of the ascent, which was but an 
 inconsiderable one, Mr. Mortimer turned back, 
 promising to cut Pat's story as short as he 
 could, and not doubting that he should reach 
 Wentworth Court as quickly as themselves. 
 Their progress, indeed, was not very rapid, as 
 Sir Arthur began to feel all the imprudence of 
 his undertaking, in the fatigue he suffered ; and 
 the sight of the tall fencing of the plantations 
 was gladly welcomed by all. Here, nevertheless, 
 a formidable dilemma occurred. The key pro- 
 duced by Sir Arthur would not enter the lock 
 into which it was attempted to be inserted, and
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 171 
 
 was now recognized as a wrong one. The fen- 
 cing was not such as might be cHnibed, even by 
 more active Hmbs than those of most of the in- 
 dividuals of the present group ; and as fatigue 
 prevented Sir Arthur's return by the long and 
 circuitous route by the beach, no other alterna- 
 tive presented itself, than that one of the other 
 gentlemen should make the best of liis way to 
 the house, while the rest waited as patiently as 
 they might lor his return vrith. the key. Wal- 
 singham readily offered his services, and greatly 
 to the horror of Miss Euphemia, Sir Arthur, 
 much more apprehensive of Isabel's taking cold, 
 than of aught of mischief likely to accrue from 
 such a proceeding, hastily desired her to accom- 
 pany him. 
 
 The tw^Hght was deepening around as Wal- 
 singham and Isabel retraced their steps towards 
 the shore ; and, although the rapidity of their 
 motion was unfavourable to sentiment, he was 
 yet by no means insensible to the pleasui'e of 
 guarding one so lovely amidst the dreary scene 
 
 i2
 
 172 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 they traversed. Every ray of light had now 
 left the dark and heaving expanse of the sea, 
 while, though there was httle wind, the advan- 
 cing tide rolled threateningly into shore. Isabel 
 shivered, and folded her shawl closer around her » 
 and a few steps would have placed them on the 
 beach, when, on turning an intervening rock, 
 the sound of rough, though suppressed voices, 
 surprised them greatly in that lonely spot, and 
 involuntarily they paused to listen. 
 
 " To night will do for our work, I warrant. 
 It will be pitch dark soon, and the Lieutenant's 
 off with the best men on the wrong scent to the 
 Cove yonder. They '11 never be up to the lugger's 
 pushing in here just in their teeth; and before 
 they 've smoked us, we '11 have the goods landed 
 safe and easy." 
 
 "We're in luck to night, that's certain!" 
 repHed his comrade. "It 's so hazy that she 
 lies out there in the mist snug enough, and even 
 the old fox from the Custom House is up at the 
 Court; — but come on — there they be, and we've
 
 MAX "SVENT WORTH. 173 
 
 only to teU. them to push in boldly^ and there 'U 
 soon be plenty of hands to help 'em off with the 
 kegs, when they 're once ashore." 
 
 A small boat now became ^dsible to "Walsing- 
 ham and his terrified companion, pulling hastily 
 towards them from the direction in which the 
 speakers had indicated that the lugger lay con- 
 cealed by the increasing fog. " Fear not," 
 whispered Walsingham, while those in the boat 
 appeared to be receiving from their friends the 
 communication of the favourable state of things 
 on land ; — " They are smugglers, and will 
 doubtless be gone in a few minutes. To-night 
 seems marked for too full employment to allow 
 them to loiter here. They will not see us." 
 He drew her, however, still farther beneath the 
 shadow of the cHffs as he spoke, and Isabel 
 gazed breathlessly upon the wild looking group 
 before them ; when, as the boatmen resumed 
 their oars, and their colleagues lent their aid to 
 shove off the boat, the sound of huiTying foot- 
 steps was heard along the road down the cliffs,
 
 i74 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 and a number of men belonging to the Coast- 
 guard rushed hastily past Walsingham and 
 Isabel towards the smugglers. The landsmen 
 were immediately secured, but the boat's crew 
 sent her rapidly dashing through the surf beyond 
 the reach of their disappointed pursuers. A 
 sharp clear report rang on the ear of Isabel, and 
 for a moment her eyes closed, while but for 
 Walsingham's support she would have fallen to 
 the ground. The shot, however, apparently 
 failed in its eifect ; and, yielding to the impulse 
 of his trembling companion, Walsingham now 
 permitted her to leave the shelter of the rocks, 
 and approach Mr. Mortimer, whom they had 
 recognized among the group on the beach, and 
 who now stood looking through his glass at the 
 boat, by this time not more than a speck upon 
 the waters. 
 
 " The rascals have got off this time," he an- 
 nounced, to Isabel's great relief; then after des- 
 patching some of the men to another part of the 
 coast, where the commanding officer of the
 
 MAX \yE:NTWORTH. 175 
 
 station had been induced to post a strong force, 
 from a false alarm of a landing being premedi- 
 tated there from a smuggling vessel that had 
 lately been seen hovering in the distance — and 
 others to guard the prisoners to a place of secu- 
 rity; he was able to express his wonder and 
 regret at Isabel's having been exposed to so 
 much alarm. " I thought there would be some 
 mid work here soon," he said, as they walked 
 on towards the Coui't, as quickly as Isabel's 
 trepidation would allow ; " and therefore did aU 
 I could to get you safe home before any distur- 
 bance. We should have had enough to answer 
 for to-night, if it had not been for my fr'iend 
 Pat's sagacit}^" 
 
 The individual thus alluded to, who was fol- 
 lowing them at a respectful distance, now ad- 
 vanced to reply to the questions addressed to 
 him by Isabel. " Sm*e and I'll teU yoiu' lady- 
 ship all about it, without a word of untruth fr'om 
 beginning to end. AVas'nt I sitting quite plea- 
 sant like, singing to myself on a gate, and
 
 176 MAX WENTWOUTH. 
 
 thinking no harm, when who should come by, 
 but those two lads that we Ve just got safe hold 
 of, and mighty civil fair-weather chaps they dis- 
 coursed like, but I kept a sharp look out, 
 knowing them to be the arrantest smugglers in 
 the whole country. So sure enough they turned 
 about and asked whether the Lieutenant was off 
 to the cove, and your honour up at the Court; 
 and seeing something was in the wind, I kept 
 an eye on them, and watched them go round to 
 all the marked men, and then I came after your 
 worship to tell you what I thought; only for 
 fear of frightening the ladies, I did it private 
 like." 
 
 Pat's watchfulness received all due commen- 
 dation from his auditors, who had now regained 
 the gardens. Whether the eulogium bestowed 
 by him in return were disinterested or not, may 
 be doubted, but as Pat rejoined his companion, 
 he exclaimed, "She's a good kind creature, 
 Mike, or else she's mighty desateful ! If I was 
 of her equality, now, I'd rather marry that sweet
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 177 
 
 young girl from the Court without a farthing, 
 than any lady of the land with a hundred a- 
 year!" 
 
 Isabel was greatly relieved on arri\Tng at 
 home, to find Sir Arthiu' and the whole party as- 
 sembled in the drawing-room; the accidental 
 appearance of the gamekeeper with the requisite 
 key in his possession, having enabled them to 
 retui'n to the house some time before. The 
 alarm wliich they were beginning to entertain 
 on Isabel's account, was scarcely dispelled by 
 the sight of her pale and frightened countenance, 
 and Mr. Mortimer was quickly called upon for 
 a recital of their adventure. ^' Do not let this 
 affair disturb your rest. Miss Isabel," he said, 
 good humouredly, after he had concluded his 
 account ; " I assure you I am very much afraid 
 that Sir Arthur's family have more cause to 
 stand in awe of his Majesty's revenue officers 
 than of the smugglers." 
 
 Sir Arthur smiled as Mr. Mortimer spoke, 
 but then gravely replied, " While I plead 
 
 i5
 
 178 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 guilty, my good sir, to wilful blindness, as to 
 some of the proceedings of these men, I must 
 say, in my own defence, that I am too well 
 aware of the demoralising influence of the prac- 
 tice upon the peasantry to allow any of my 
 household to lend it the slightest encouragement. 
 I cannot, indeed, prosecute the smugglers : — 
 they have looked on the sea as their domain 
 since the Wentworths first held lands here. 
 The trade appears to descend as a matter of 
 course from father to son ; and their poverty 
 leads them the more excuseably to embrace it as 
 the means of maintaining their families. My 
 invincible repugnance on this head has caused 
 me always to avoid undertaking the duties of a 
 county magistrate." 
 
 " I could almost forgive these men their law- 
 less course of life, although I believe the motives 
 for its adoption to be less pardonable than those 
 Sir Arthur has suggested, in consideration of 
 their boldness, ready wit, and undeviating gra- 
 titude to those who refuse to inform against
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 179 
 
 them," remarked Walsingham. " Though traces 
 of their having crossed my grounds are con- 
 stantly discernible, yet even my mother's flower- 
 beds are held sacred from their footsteps ; and 
 when I hear their whistle on the shore, or then- 
 hurrying tread on moonless nights close to the 
 house, I am rather disposed to regard their 
 vicinity as a protection to my mother, during 
 my occasional absences from home, than as 
 affording any reason for apprehension on her 
 account." 
 
 "I remember, several years ago, that I was 
 returning, after nightfall, along the lonely coast 
 road, between Marchwood and Comerford," said 
 Sir Arthur, " when, beneath the shadow of an 
 overhanging rock, my eye caught the glitter of 
 fire arms. As I gained the spot, a man rose 
 slowly from the crouching posture wherein he 
 had awaited the stranger's approach ; — another 
 and another followed, and the whole troop, at 
 least twenty in number, defiled along the road 
 before me. ^ It is the Baronet fr-om the Court,'
 
 180 MAX WENTAVORTH. 
 
 -—-said one, — 4ts owners have always been the 
 smuggler's friends.— Good night, Sir Arthur.' 
 At that moment, so romantic was the whole 
 scene, so bold and picturesque the apj^earance of 
 those who thus termed themselves my friends, 
 that instead of feeling indignant at the suspicion 
 of my want of regard for his Majesty's dues, I 
 almost gloried in the appellation, and could well 
 understand the attraction possessed by a career, 
 offering scenes of such varied and powerful ex- 
 citement." 
 
 " Upon my word, this is a very unfitting con- 
 versation to be carried on in my presence," ob- 
 served Mr. Mortimer. " Were you. Miss Went- 
 worth, ever to find yourself on the wild heath, 
 where the greater number of the smugglers' 
 wi'etched habitations are to be found, the spec- 
 tacle would provide you with the best possible 
 antidote to the blameable tenets 1 have just 
 heard inculcated. When you saw the miserable 
 destitution of the neglected women and children, 
 left almost to starve, while their husbands and
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 181 
 
 fathers spend in a few hours of selfish indul- 
 gence, their ill- earned profits ; you would allow 
 the superior mercy of endeavoui'ing by the re- 
 moval of the hardened and desperate, to afford 
 a possibility of reclaiming the young, in some 
 measui'e, to habits of industry. You cannot tell 
 the degradation into which one breach of the 
 laws gradually leads them — the deceits which 
 are looked on as praiseworthy — the desperate 
 wickedness that is engendered. Before we wish 
 you good night, I must tell you ladies a capital 
 trick the rascals played some years since, upon 
 the worthy magistrates of Comerford (of course 
 before my time). Incendiary letters were ^vi-it- 
 ten to them all, thi-eatening upon a certain 
 night to burn down the Town Hall. In terri- 
 ble alarm, these sagacious gentry summoned the 
 coast guard far and near, to defend the venera- 
 ble edifice, -^i^'hich no one was di'eaming of mo- 
 lesting, and more contraband goods were safely 
 landed that night, than had been imported into 
 Devonshire for years."
 
 182 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Mr. Mortimer, with the other guests, now 
 took his leave ; and fatigued with the occurrences 
 of the day, the inmates of the Court shortly 
 afterwards separated for the night.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 *'And how like you this shepherd's life, Master 
 Touchstone r " 
 
 " Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good 
 life ; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is 
 naught ; in respect that it is solitary, I like it very 
 well ; but in respect that it is private, it is a very 
 vile life. Now, in respect it is in the fields, it pleas- 
 eth me well ; but in respect that it is not in the 
 court, it is tedious." 
 
 AS YOU LIKE IT. 
 
 During her visit at Wentworth Court, Mrs. 
 Tresham had been quietly using aU her influ- 
 ence to effect an object which every day ren- 
 dered her more desirous of attaining, — namely, 
 that Melicent and Isabel should accompany her 
 on her return to St. Austin's. Sir Arthur, with
 
 184 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 whom their gentle guest had gradually become 
 a favourite, was easily induced to second a pro- 
 ject likely to afford pleasure to his nieces, and 
 enable them to see the beautiful south-western 
 coast of England ; but it was long before Meh- 
 cent and Isabel could be prevailed upon to leave 
 him, even for a short period, so soon after their 
 arrival in Devonshire. Their uncle, however, 
 saw, or fancied that Isabel looked pale ; and Mrs. 
 Tresham persuaded him, that a fi-esh change of 
 air was desirable for his delicate niece. The 
 approach of the period fixed by Mr. Tresham 
 and Lord Lymington for their return, necessa- 
 rily obliged Mrs. Tresham to resolve upon her 
 own departure ; and her anxiety and unusual 
 exertions were at length rewarded, by finding 
 her friends the companions of the journey which, 
 however dreaded in the anticipation, was now 
 accomplished with perfect facility, when en- 
 livened by their society. 
 
 The wide and s?ndy plains, which within a 
 few miles of the Abbey of St. Austin's, extended
 
 MAX WE^T WORTH. 185 
 
 to a considerable distance in every direction, 
 served materially to enhance the effect of the 
 beautiful scenery in its immediate \dcinity. The 
 river, which almost bathed the walls of the 
 Abbey, flowed between banks highly fertile and 
 picturesque ; and the majestic woods environing 
 the venerable edifice, oflfered a magnificent con- 
 trast to the scarcity of trees prevalent in the 
 neighbouring landscapes. Like most of the 
 ancient monastic dwellings, its site appeared to 
 have been selected with the \'iew of combining 
 all the advantages principally conducive to the 
 comfort and ease of its inmates ; game and fish 
 abounded in the woods and river: and a domes- 
 tic and placid tranquiUity held appropriate do- 
 minion around a spot destined to be kept sacred 
 fi-om the intrusion of the outer world. 
 
 The splendid edifice itself, vast in its dimen- 
 sions, and unequalled in the beauty of its archi- 
 tecture, had, fi-om the la]3se of time, derived all 
 the charms of antiquity, without having been 
 suffered to become gloomy or comfortless. Even
 
 186 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 in winter, the evergreens scattered among the 
 loftier growth of wood, must have obviated any 
 cheerlessness of aspect; and while, on the south- 
 ern and western fronts, the beautiful gardens 
 extended in all their richness of decoration along 
 the banks of the riverj thick groves of oak and 
 beech, on the opposite side, reached down to the 
 water's edge, and the ash dipped its branches 
 into the cool stream, there in deep shade, but 
 farther on in its winding course, expanding into 
 more than one miniature lake, where the swan 
 reared its slender throat, and the king-fisher 
 darted along the reedy shore. 
 
 The carriage had slowly wound its way be- 
 neath the stately avenue, and the travellers, on 
 alighting, had found themselves in an immense 
 entrance haU, with its marble pavement che- 
 quered by the faint light striving to penetrate 
 through the painted windows ; when, unable to 
 restrain her surprise, — " Can this be the home 
 you have called dull and wearisome ?" Melicent 
 almost angrily exclaimed ; while Isabel stood by
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 187 
 
 the side of Mrs. Tresham, wrapt in silent wonder 
 at such perversity of taste. " Is it possible that 
 this beautiful place can be the St. Austin's of 
 which you have all spoken only to express your 
 dislike, and complain of the melancholy per- 
 vading a scene which appears to us one of en- 
 chantment?" 
 
 " My dear, what can you mean ?" uiquu*ed 
 Mrs. Tresham, half roused from her fatigne. 
 " I told you that it was a very nice place, and 
 what a pretty \iew there was from the windows ; 
 and now you are both with me, I know I shall 
 like it of all things, just as I did dear Went- 
 worth Court." 
 
 The precise peiiod when Mr. Tresham and 
 his brother-in-law might be expected was un- 
 certain, as they were dependent upon wind and 
 weather permitting theii* yacht to gain the 
 nearest port, which was twelve miles from St. 
 Austin's. Mrs. Tresham seemed perfectly free 
 from all anxiety on their account, and was soon 
 established apparently as much to her satisfaction
 
 188 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 as ever ; while the sisters found ample occupa- 
 tion for the first hours after their arrival at the 
 Abbey, in the contemplation of its splendours, 
 and in marvelling at the changes that had oc- 
 curred in the destination of the monastic fabric, 
 to bring it into the hands of its present pos- 
 sessors. At a late hour in the evening, they 
 were startled from their several avocations by 
 the sudden appearance of Tresham and Lyming- 
 ton ; and, as the foimer warmly welcomed the 
 Miss Wentworths to St. Austin's, and congratu- 
 lated his wife on the acquisition she had made 
 to their circle, Melicent thought he looked 
 worthy of such a dwelling ; but not long after- 
 wards his usual manner returned, and he ap- 
 peared again the indifferent and dissatisfied man 
 of the world. 
 
 " We cannot sufiiciently thank your kind 
 friends for the care they have taken of you, 
 Laura. I never saw you look so well," said her 
 brother, soon after his entrance. " Have you
 
 MAX ^VENTTN'ORTH. 189 
 
 no intelligence to give us of the excellent Mrs. 
 Lambert and our Comerford associates ?" 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! we saw very little of any 
 of them, except Doctor and Mrs. Lambert, at 
 Wentworth Court/' said Mrs. Tresham, affect- 
 edly. " The very name of Comerford has been 
 odious ro me since that terrible water-party; 
 when, really, what ^vith ]Mrs. Lambert's talking 
 so much, and hiuTying about from one to an- 
 other — very good-naturedly, of course — only 
 I was thed of seeing her in such perpetual mo- 
 tion ; and the deplorable appearance of those 
 conceited Miss Severns, and that tii-csome 
 Mrs. Mortimer, I was so overcome, that had I 
 not retreated to my cabin, I must have thrown 
 myself overboard." 
 
 " Well, I must say, Laura, I was very sorry 
 for the poor people," said her brother, some- 
 what reproachfully, though unable to refrain 
 from laughing at the recollection of the scene. 
 '^ I am sm-e they bore their misfortune very 
 good-humoiu*edly. The girls were absurd, of
 
 190 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 course; and Mrs/ Mortimer, I should think, 
 never was anything else in her Hfe ; but Mrs. 
 Lambert was so active and useful, and so 
 thoroughly kind and thoughtful concerning 
 everybody but herself, that I do not like to hear 
 you, who must own to having been perfectly 
 useless, and as much frightened as even Mrs. 
 Mortimer, presume to find any fault.'* 
 
 " I assure you, Frank, I did not mean to be 
 ill-natured. I was quite surprised at Mrs. Lam- 
 bert's being able to do so miich good ; but what 
 could I have done ? I sent Celestine to them, 
 you know." 
 
 " A most efficient aid !" said Tresham, laugh- 
 ing. " Unfortunately they did not, at that mo- 
 ment, require their hair to be dressed in the last 
 Parisian mode. However, I perfectly agree 
 with you in thinking that you were incapable of 
 affording any assistance, and would have been 
 much in the way had you attempted it. Here 
 is a letter from Lindesay, Lymington. He is 
 still at Chudleigh's, and says not a word of
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 191 
 
 mo-ving. I suspect our doughty brother must 
 have met with some unlooked-for attraction, 
 "wdthin the last few weeks, to soften his stern 
 resolves." 
 
 " I dare say it is only that he does not parti- 
 cularly Tvdsh to come here," remarked his wife, 
 languidly. " I don't think he seemed at all to 
 like being with us at Comerford ; and, no doubt, 
 he fancies St. Austin's would be a gi'eat deal 
 worse. You know he went away once before 
 in a hiuTy ; when I dare say if he had staid we 
 should have grown used to him, and been very 
 comfortable." 
 
 When the sisters retired for the night, the 
 interior of the Abbey wore a very different ap- 
 pearance from that of the less antiquated resi- 
 dence of Marchwood, where they had once been 
 located. Through no desolate chambers had 
 they now to pass ; the hand of wealth, guided 
 by refined and correct taste, had been exerted 
 in dispelHng all vestiges of gloom, ^4thout 
 impaii'ing the venerable grandeur appropriate to
 
 192 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 the fabric ; and the suite of apartments assigned 
 to the Miss Wentworths, though spacious in 
 their dimensions, and perfectly consistent in all 
 their details, were furnished with every super- 
 fluity that could be desired by the most capri- 
 cious fine lady. Melicent and Isabel fell asleep 
 before they had recovered from their surprise 
 that the owners of such a dwelling should ever 
 wish for change of scene— ever weary of such 
 luxurious magnificence,
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 '*Ma foi, riiomme est bati d'une etrange facon, 
 II ne salt bien souvent s'il est chair ou poisson. 
 Entraine d'une huraeur inquiete, inegale, 
 11 court sans savoir ou, retourne sur ses pas, 
 Rejette ce qu'il a, cherche ce qu'il n'a pas." 
 
 V^ALINCOUR. 
 
 On the thii'd morning after theii' arrival at 
 the abbey, its inmates appeared inclined to adopt 
 occupations tending to disperse them more than 
 was customary. Tresham ordered his horses 
 immediately after breakfast, ha^dng business to 
 transact with his law agent in the neighbouring 
 town ; and L}Tiiington, with some difficulty, suc- 
 ceeded in persuading his sister to trust herself 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 to his careful driving, and allow liim to show 
 her and Isabel some of the beauties of the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 The extreme heat of the weather had induced 
 Melicent to plead a violent headache, as an 
 excuse for not accompanying them; and Mrs. 
 Tresham, declaring compassion for her malady 
 to be out of the question, since it led to so en- 
 viable a result, at length suffered her impatient 
 brother to persuade her away. 
 
 The soft air that came across the river to the 
 open and shaded window, at which Melicent 
 was reclining, soon ^vi'ought a beneficial effect 
 upon her ; — the forest life and pictures, with the 
 quiet moralizing of " As you like it," had never 
 before been so enchanting as now, when they 
 seemed in perfect unison with the scene ; and 
 MeUcent lingered over them till the afternoon 
 breeze blew more and more refreshingly, and 
 the long shadows of the beech trees fell right 
 across the water, eclipsing, by their green re- 
 flections, the bright rays that had previously
 
 MAX WENTHWORTH. 195 
 
 been sparkling there. Melicent felt herself irre- 
 sistibly called forth; and slowly and admiringly 
 she walked beneath the spreading boughs of the 
 avenue, and across the beautiful pai'k, towards a 
 spot she had before selected as that whence to 
 sketch the abbey. The progress made in her 
 work when there, was, however, far from rapid, 
 — there was too much to be contemplated and 
 admired before even conmiencing; the dehcious 
 repose around, seemed to induce inactivity ; — 
 and, chiding herself for her idleness, she had 
 just began to take interest in her own perform- 
 ance, when she perceived ^Ir. Tresham advancing 
 towards her. He was reading so intently as not 
 to notice who was near him until she spoke, 
 when he closed liis book, and approached her. 
 
 " How is it that I see you here, Miss AVent- 
 worth ? I was told that Mrs. Tresham had driven 
 out, and concluded that you had accompanied 
 her." 
 
 Melicent's answer was coupled ^vith a remark 
 on the subject of his studies, for she was now 
 
 k2
 
 196 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 aware that lie held the same volume of Shakes- 
 peare which had before occupied herself. "I did 
 not know, Mr. Tresham," she said, "that you 
 could be so much engrossed by poetry ; but cer- 
 tainly no one ought to be insensible to its charms 
 who is surrounded by scenes like these. I have 
 read and gazed to-day, until the fascinations of 
 nature and poesy were blended into one, and I 
 scarcely knew, when I raised my eyes from the 
 page, whether the trees, the dappled deer, the 
 running brooks were really before me, or whe- 
 ther the magic of fancy were not transporting 
 me to a visionary Forest of Ardennes." 
 
 " On you, Miss Wentworth, beauty, whether 
 ideal or picturesque, is in no danger of being 
 thrown away ; and for such as you alone, the 
 poet should write, and scenes like this exist. 
 Would that I could claim a congeniality of 
 mind with you ! But, alas ! if the truth must 
 out, I have not had a volume of Shakespeare in 
 my hand since my school-boy days, till now, 
 when, iinduig the saloon deserted, I accidentally
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 197 
 
 lifted tliis from the table, and so fell a victim 
 to its strange sorceries, — pleasant ones, it must 
 be owned, like tlie wild life poiu'ti'ayed here, 
 and recalling the dreams of one's boyhood, re- 
 specting the supreme feUcit^' of some sylvan 
 sohtude, 
 
 ** ' More free from peril than the envious court.* 
 
 "WHiat say you to this. Miss Wentv\-orth ? Do 
 not the banished prince and his followers lose 
 their romance in yom- eyes, when you find them 
 abandoning their green wood to return to that 
 society which had ah'eady treated them so 
 vilely?" 
 
 " Their romance, perhaps, in some measure, 
 but certainly not theu* interest. There were so 
 many reasons why the Duke's resumption of his 
 state was a dut}- to his subjects and himself, that, 
 his pleasant summer over, I am glad to send him 
 back to his palace." 
 
 " You are no advocate, then, of the hermit's 
 cell ; yet to whom but to the young and uncor-
 
 198 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 rupted could such an abode be endurable ? 
 Doubtless most of the anchorites of old were 
 deeply indebted to their faith in the efficacy of 
 fast and scourge ; since^ without such whole- 
 some pastime, what worse purgatory could be 
 incurred than the obhgation to meditate unceas- 
 ingly upon a past vicious career? Retirement 
 may have charms in the dreams of the poet, or 
 to purity and hohness ; but must be shunned as 
 the direst of penances by the man of the world, 
 who has, probably, only past follies for his most 
 agreeable subjects for reflection." 
 
 Tresham paused; and for some moments 
 Melicent, too, remained silent, while her com- 
 panion stood musing by her side. At length, 
 looldng up from her work, she said ; " This is 
 your first visit of any duration, I am told by 
 Mrs. Tresham, to St. Austin's, since youi* mar- 
 riage. Will not its beauties induce you to 
 make it, henceforward, more frequently your 
 residence ?" 
 
 " Will you teach me. Miss Wentworth, the
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 199 
 
 secret of existence, at St. Austin's or elsewhere, 
 without change or excitement ? A few weeks 
 ago, three days spent here, unbroken by novelty, 
 were almost sufficient to destroy me ; and now, 
 I knoAY not how soon all will again become dis- 
 tasteful, and I shall quit it once more in search 
 of a change, which, when gained, will pall as 
 speedily. Yet, beheve me, I value the old 
 Abbey, though not as it deserves ; and there is 
 not a stone or a tree belonging to it, to which 
 when away I do not revert with affection, though 
 its sight may often serve as too poignant a 
 reproach." 
 
 " Surely yoiu* complauit carries with it its 
 own remedy. If such are your feelings, cannot 
 the master of St. Austin's demise for himself 
 sufficient occupation and interest in its vicinity 
 without imitating the seclusion of its former 
 monastic inhabitants, or any necessity that he 
 should, in unprofitable moralising, 
 
 " 'Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 
 
 Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time ?'
 
 200 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 *^ It might be as you say. Miss WentwortK, 
 were the master of St. Austin's one yet capable 
 of finding in scenes like these the wholesome 
 interest and employment with which they are 
 redolent to healthful and youthful feehngs such 
 as yours. Even now, I beheve, I might be a 
 happier if a poorer man. He who labours for 
 his support has his object, but what is mine ? 
 The idle waste of the wealth that in other hands 
 might diffuse blessings — the thankless abuse of 
 the gifts of Providence to one so undeserving !" 
 
 " Oh ! no, no ! you condemn yourself too 
 harshly ; — you could not speak and think thus 
 if the power to act aright had indeed deserted 
 you." 
 
 ^' You know not the deadening influence of a 
 life like mine. Miss Wentworth, upon every 
 ardent or praiseworthy impulse. From a boy 
 spoiled and indulged, I was then thrown upon 
 the world as my o^vn master ; and the first check 
 I can recollect opposing itself to my course of 
 folly and extravagance was when I discovered
 
 MAX TN'ENT WORTH. 201 
 
 myself to be involved in debt^ and even my 
 paternal estate mortgaged to its fullest value. 
 Then, in the bitter mortification of that hour, 
 might my good angel have interfered, and 
 prompted me by vigorous self- exertion to re- 
 trieve my fallen fortunes. An easier mode of 
 extrication presented itself : — I married, and had 
 scarcely thus forfeited the chance that a loved 
 hand might yet have guided me h'om the path 
 of error, when the death of a chstant relative 
 suddenly made me the possessor of wealth more 
 than sufficient to have cleared off all my embar- 
 rassments. For a second time I gave the rein 
 to my mad humour, and took refuge from reflec- 
 tion in dissipation; until eveiy better feeling 
 was repressed and bhghted, and neither energ}' 
 nor temper remained to avail me in the attempt 
 at reform you would vamly counsel." 
 
 " I cannot )ield so readily," rephed Mehcent, 
 ^' while you do not prove your own assertions. 
 It may possibly be as you say, that yoiu* mind 
 now requires sti'onger excitement than attends 
 
 K 5
 
 202 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 on simple every-day pleasures. But why con- 
 tinue thus fruitlessly to make pleasure your aim, 
 when existence opens so many elevated duties ? 
 Can the owner of these almost princely domains 
 look round in vain for an object capable of in- 
 teresting even his wayward mind ? Have you 
 not hundreds deriving support from the employ- 
 ment you afford ? and would not the improve- 
 ment of your estates, the welfare of your 
 tenantry, repay the partial sacrifice of your time 
 and attention ? Your sphere of action might 
 be a wide one ; and might include, if you willed 
 it, more public avocations. Can you doubt that 
 the happiness you conferred on others would in 
 time revert on yourself? 
 
 " Were every woman like you. Miss Went- 
 worth, ardent and enthusiastic in the cause of 
 good, such a project might sound less imprac- 
 ticable than now. But were I to tell my wife 
 that it was my intention to reside in future on 
 my own estate, enact the county magistrate, and 
 attend turnpike and vestry-meetings ; while she.
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 203 
 
 on her part, played the Lady Bountiful of the 
 parish, she would most excuseably deem this 
 one of the, many short-lived caprices by which I 
 have before now been actuated ; and the philan- 
 thropic design would vanish before her ridicule, 
 as quickly as will, in all probabihty, my mora- 
 lising mood of to-day." 
 
 " You have, at all events, no reason to doubt 
 Mrs. Tresham's willing assent to whatever may 
 promote yoiu' satisfaction. Besides, are you 
 sure that you quite know your wife, or that she 
 does not possess powers and feelings that have 
 long lain dormant, and which it remains for 
 you to ehcit ? Is not this a -worthy object .'' 
 Speak to her as you have spoken to me ; — ex- 
 plain to her your motives, yoiu: •v\'ishes ; — and 
 rely upon it, you ■s\ill be rewarded by the disco- 
 very of quahties beyond even the gentleness and 
 amiabiHty that are always apparent in her." 
 
 " I can scarcely doubt it when she has secured 
 a friend like 3Iiss Wentworth. Xow, hoT^^ever, 
 how shall I apologise for having so long detained
 
 204 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 and wearied you ; — how express my gratitude 
 for the patience wherewith you have Hstened to 
 my captious self-reproaches ?" 
 
 " Nay, rather let me apologise for the free 
 scope I have been tempted to give to my sex's 
 propensity for lecturing. My humour for grave 
 moralising, as I believe you know, is not more 
 lasting than your own." 
 
 " Stay yet a moment before you enter the 
 house, and suifer me to assure you that your 
 words shall not, if possible, be thrown away ; — 
 that they have roused a spirit long unfelt, which 
 would persuade me that he cannot be wholly 
 incorrigible whom Miss Wentworth has honoured 
 with her kind interest ; — whom she has consi- 
 dered not too utterly unhke her noble and 
 generous self, to be capable of sympathising 
 with the sentiments I have this day hstened to 
 from her lips."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " A silly man, in simple weeds forworn, 
 And soiled with dust of the long dryed way ; 
 His sandals were with toilsome travel torn, 
 And face all tanned with scorching sunny ray, 
 As he had travelled many a summer's day, 
 Through boiling sands of Araby and Ind ; 
 And in his hand a Jacob's staff to stay 
 His weary limbs upon; and eke behind, 
 His scrip did hang, in which his needments he did 
 bind." 
 
 Spbnser's Faery Queen. 
 
 The arrival of Mr. Stanley at St. Austin's that 
 evening, occiu'red opj)ortunely to prevent Mrs. 
 Treshani from failing in her resolution to en- 
 counter the fatigues of an exciu-sion to Penzance 
 and its neighbourhood, in the fulfilment of her 
 promise to Sir Aj.'thur, that his nieces should be
 
 206 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 shown as many as possible of the beauties of 
 Cornwall, during their visit. Whatever had 
 been her recent misgivings on the subject, she 
 now became comparatively at ease respecting 
 the meditated undertaking, since, enhvened by 
 the society of the Miss Wentworths, and with 
 one so attentive and useful as Mr. Stanley, to 
 occupy the fourth seat in her carriage, the drive 
 could scarcely prove less than pleasant. 
 
 These sanguine expectations appeared likely 
 to meet with some disappointment, when, leaving 
 the banks of the river, and the cool shade of the 
 woods, the road they were destined to pursue 
 continued to lie for many miles across bare and 
 treeless commons, where the sole objects pre- 
 senting themselves to the sight, were the rude 
 huts and machines of the mining stations, and 
 the stone enclosures, bordering the road in the 
 few spots wliere vain attempts had been made 
 at cultivation. Mrs. Tresham sank back in 
 despair — Stanley's genius seemed to desert 
 him in the emergency, — Mr. Tresham rode
 
 MAX AVE>TWOIlTn. 207 
 
 rapidly forwards, to escape as fast as possible 
 from the glare of the mid-day sun upon the 
 white and biu-ning soil ; and silence and fatigue 
 crept over the whole part}'. 
 
 It was impossible, however, for the most indo- 
 lent or apathetic, not to be alive to the beautiful 
 ti'ansition of scene, as, after descendmg a steep 
 hill, they entered one of the sequestered \Tlla- 
 ges, varpng the monotony of the Cornish wastes. 
 Rocks covered -^dth i^y, and creeping plants, 
 replaced the stone walls on either hand, — springs 
 gushed from the gi-anite, and clear brooks ran 
 down beside the narrow road ; while sheltered 
 by lofty trees, the rough, but picturesque cotta- 
 ges of the hamlet, though framed only of blocks 
 of granite laid loosely on each other, and ad- 
 mitting the wmd and rain through theii- aper- 
 tures, looked far more imiting in the summer 
 noon, than the white-washed walls and slated 
 roofs of the dwellings they had passed, be- 
 longing to the miners. Beneath the shade of a 
 widelv branching ash, stood the tillage inn:
 
 208 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 and while Mrs. Tresham remained contentedly 
 waiting, until the horses should be rested, Meli- 
 cent and Isabel walked on to explore the green 
 and tempting -looking lanes beyond. Hastening 
 to assume a place by the side of the latter, Lord 
 Lymington began to reproach her for having as 
 yet given him no detailed account of their late 
 proceedings at Wentworth Court, some of which 
 he had gathered from his sister to have been of 
 a highly romantic nature. " No wonder that 
 you have learned to look with indifference upon 
 common-place individuals like myself, who have 
 never had the glory of defending you in a pre- 
 dicament of similar peril. What could be more 
 appropriate and impressive, than that twilight 
 beach ? — the landing of a pirate crew, — shots 
 resounding through the air, — and the gallant 
 Mortimer leading on his veterans, while the 
 stately Knight of Marchwood was only restrain- 
 ed by the terrors of his interesting charge, from 
 joining in the deadly contest? I trust, never- 
 theless, that these animating scenes have not
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 209 
 
 wholly dispelled your interest in yoiu- absent 
 cousin ?" 
 
 " What could make you think of him then ? " 
 said Isabel, blushing ; "I am glad you did, 
 however, for I have been wishing to speak to 
 you about him. !My uncle has now revealed to 
 us the nature of his offences, and he certainly 
 seems to have been very much to blame ; I trust, 
 though, that he will be able to overcome this 
 unfortunate passion." 
 
 " Unfortunate passion ! — for whom?" 
 '^ For the dauohter of one of mv uncle's 
 tenants, as he told us ; Sh Aithiu' was naturally 
 much distressed about it ; but he soon repented 
 his severity, and would very soon, I am sure, 
 have forgiven Mr. Wentworth, had he not un- 
 advisedly engaged in this expedition to Spain, 
 which coincides, I suppose, with the pohtical 
 principles that most displease my uncle. Xow, 
 indeed, I do not know whether it vnH ever be 
 possible to bring Sh Arthiu' to forgive him. 
 You cannot think how much he was agitated, 
 when I mentioned his name."
 
 210 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 " You had then sufficient courage ? — that was 
 right, and Hke yourself. Do not fear, — all will 
 go well in time. 1 have reason to believe, that 
 Maximihan has seen enough of the fruits of 
 liberal principles, and that he will henceforth 
 very probably espouse Sir Arthur's side of the 
 question. We shall have him in England, I 
 trust, ere long ; and then we will all exert our- 
 selves to effect this most desirable reconcilia- 
 tion." 
 
 They had now regained the carriage, into 
 which Isabel was assisted by Lord Lymington, 
 who then retreated to his own ; and in a few 
 moments, having left behind the pretty shelter- 
 ed village, they were traversing another dreary 
 common. Isabel's thoughts soon wandered from 
 the present scene, to the subject of their late 
 conversation. Lord Lymington's confidence in 
 the speedy termination of her cousin's exile, had 
 re-awakened all her own hopes and surmises 
 respecting this unknown relative; and utterly 
 unconscious of what was passing among her
 
 MAX WEXTWOKTH. 211 
 
 companions, she busied herself in assigning to 
 him, by tui-ns, the outward form and semblance 
 of every favoimte hero of romance, and in re- 
 gretting that she had not more minutely ques- 
 tioned his friend, as to the probable period of 
 his return to England. 
 
 The sun was gi*adually dechning as they en- 
 tered the narrow streets of the straggUng and 
 ill-built town of Marazion, and slowly crossed 
 the rough causeway, aiFording, at low water, a 
 communication between the shore and St. 
 Michael's Mount. The ascent was too preci- 
 pitous to be attempted otherT\'ise than on foot : 
 and, after gaining the stone balcony encii-cling 
 the isolated dwellinsr of the St. Aubvns, Mrs. 
 Tresham's fatigue induced her to decline accom- 
 panying the more adventurous of the paity in 
 quest of a still finer prospect from the summit 
 of the old tower. The Miss AVentworths almost 
 repented not having imitated her prudence when 
 they found themselves engaged in ascendmg, in 
 total darkness, a staircase of at least sixty broken
 
 212 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 and mouldering steps. About half way in their 
 progress, their difficulties were increased by 
 their being deprived of the faint beam of light 
 which was beginning to reach them through the 
 narrow trap-door at the top, by the interposition 
 of some individual, whose descent, if continued, 
 must infallibly oblige them to retreat the whole 
 way down the steep ladder. The stranger, un- 
 conscious of their vicinity, was unconcernedly 
 humming an air to himself; but, when warned 
 by Lord Lymington of the impossibility of the 
 ladies' passing him, he politely retreated from 
 the narrow stair, and having at length attained 
 the summit, the party were, for the first few 
 moments, wholly engrossed by the contemplation 
 of the magnificent view from the battlements, 
 
 "What a strange looking mail! — Where can 
 Lord Lymington have become acquainted mth 
 him?" whispered Isabel to Tresham, as, to their 
 great surprise, the moment he obtained a sight 
 of the features of their friend of the tower 
 stair, Lymington hastened towards him, and
 
 MAX ^^'E>;T WORTH. 213 
 
 after cordially shaking hands, entered into con- 
 versation with him in the most animated 
 manner. 
 
 The appeai'ance of the indi'V'idual in question, 
 as they stood thus apart from the others, cer- 
 tainly formed a whimsical contrast to that of the 
 young nobleman. His coat, of that ]3ecuhar 
 cut distinguishing the ungraceful genus of duck- 
 hunters, was, lilve the rest of his garments, 
 plentifully besprinkled with dust ; his head was 
 buried in a large, coarse, straw hat ; and in 
 his hand he carried a hea^y and clumsy -looking 
 walking-stick. 
 
 " L^inington does seem to have the grace to 
 be amused at the exti'aordinary appearance of 
 the fidend whom he assuredly meditates inflicting 
 upon us; — thank heaven, we are on St. Michael's 
 Mount, and not in a ci^dlised land ! " exclaimed 
 Tresham, as he saw L}Tiiington look more than 
 once towards the place where they waited impa- 
 tiently for the conclusion of liis colloquy, and 
 then deliberately cross the intervening space.
 
 214 MAX WENTWORH. 
 
 and stand with his unabashed companion before 
 the wondering group. His own gravity seemed 
 again threatening to desert him, as he watched 
 the expression of their countenances, while he 
 formally presented the stranger as Mr. Hop- 
 kinson, and added that he had at last been for- 
 tunate enough to obtain a companion for the 
 drive, his friend having accepted a seat in his 
 phaeton as far as Penzance, where, Hke them- 
 selves, he was going to remain for a day or two. 
 
 " It is a piece of good luck which one never 
 could expect, to find a friend able to give one a 
 lift on the top of St. Michael's Mount!" face- 
 tiously observed his new associate, after a polite 
 bow to the party. "I should propose inveigling 
 one of the ladies to accompany us; only, since 
 it seems that your lordship has already failed, I 
 suppose I should stand no chance.". 
 
 The Miss Wentworths proving inflexible in 
 their determination to remain with Mrs. Tres- 
 ham, it was ^vith much amusement that they 
 saw the owner of the straw hat and duck-hunter.
 
 MAX WENTAVOKTH. 215 
 
 take his seat by the side of Lord Lyniingtou. 
 "I have obtained some information respecting 
 this strange accession to our party," said Tres- 
 ham, riding up to the carriage. ^^ Lymington 
 tells me that his friend is the Inspector of the 
 mines for this district; but where he originally 
 picked him up, or what he intends now to get 
 out of him, is quite beyond my comprehension." 
 
 ^*What can the creature have to say, that is 
 so entertaining?" said his wife, langTiidly. "See 
 how amused Frank is — and they are looking 
 back at us and laughing! — How very absurd! — 
 Perhaps they are quizzing us ! " 
 
 Before long, the beautiful en\ii'ons and bay of 
 Penzance came in sight; and as they alighted at 
 the Hotel, Mr. Tresham's request that he would 
 join their party at dinner, was T^-iUingly acceded 
 to by theii- new acquaintance, the Inspector; 
 while L}*mington availed himself of the oppor- 
 tunity to whisper to Isabel, "My friend's ap- 
 pearance, I must acknowledge to be against him ; 
 but my confidence in your good taste, assures
 
 216 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 me that you will appreciate liim in time, and he 
 ah'eady admires yon exceedingly." 
 
 With a disdainful smile at the idea of such 
 an individual's presuming to admire her, Isabel 
 followed Mrs. Tresham and her sister, to remove 
 then* bonnets and shawls in preparation for 
 dinner. 
 
 " I should like to be civil to Frank's acquaint- 
 ance, were it possible ! — Perhaps the creature 
 may not look so odious when he |^is properly 
 dressed for dinner," said Mrs. Tresham, as they 
 returned to the sitting-room. The brief space 
 allotted for the toilette, had certainly been made 
 the most of by Mr. Hopkinson — the dust had 
 vanished from his garments, and some articles 
 of his apparel bore traces even of pretensions to 
 finery, that harmonised but indifferently with the 
 rest of his costume. He was talking very fast 
 with Lymington and Tresham, whose manner 
 towards him evidently began to partake of a 
 considerable degree of cordiality. He assigned 
 to their new guest the task of conducting Mrs,
 
 MAX ^VE^'TWORTH. 217 
 
 Tresliam to the dinner table, and gravely ob- 
 served to tbe Miss AVentworths: — 
 
 ^'Ljmington was right — ^his friend improves 
 wonderfully on acquaintance. He is a man, too, 
 of great local importance and respectability, and 
 I hope that you will be civil to him." 
 
 Silently wondering in what this strange fas- 
 cination could consist, the Miss AVentworths took 
 their places at the table, while Mr. Hopkinson, 
 whose manner, however homely, was perfectly 
 easy and unabashed, continued to question Mrs. 
 Tresham concerning the route she had piu'sued 
 that morning. 
 
 "Coming across our fine mining country, Mrs. 
 Tresham, it is surprising to me that you should 
 not have visited one of the stations, which 
 being a pecuhar featui*e here, and the great 
 soui'ce of profit, generally prove a vast attraction 
 to strangers. As it is, I trust I may have the 
 pleasure of attending you and these young ladies 
 in your descent of one of the mines. Everything 
 is arranged so comfortably as not to alarm the 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 MAX WE NT WORTH. 
 
 most timid; and I shall be proud to afford the 
 party the benefit of my experience in these 
 matters. There's the fine mine of St. Just now 
 in the market; perhaps we may tempt you to 
 become a purchaser^ Mr. Tresham, when you 
 thoroughly understand the whole thing." 
 
 '' Heaven forbid ! " exclaimed Mrs. Tresham. 
 "I do not feel at all disposed to exchange St. 
 Austin's for a residence on one of your terrible 
 commons, Mr. Hopkinson." 
 
 "Why, I fear there is not much chance of 
 establishing anything of the kind in the imme- 
 diate neighbourhood of your present abode, but 
 there is no saying. Tin has lately been met 
 with in parts of the country where no one would 
 have dreamed of looking for it. A friend of 
 mine, who possesses an estate in one of the best 
 wooded parts of the country, has lately dis- 
 covered a fine vein of ore running right through 
 his lawn; and the value of his property is now 
 more than doubled by the working of one of the 
 most profitable tin-mines in Cornwall."
 
 MAX T\-EyTWOHTH. 219 
 
 '' It certaiiilv mioht be a most iucrative tliin^/' 
 said Treshain, gravely ; " and the superinten- 
 dence of the workmen would be a pleasant oc- 
 cupation for an idle man like me." 
 
 " Are there many visitors at Penzance this 
 summer, Mr. Hopkinson ?" asked ^Mrs. Tresham, 
 in despaii' at the turn the conversation had 
 taken, and at the prospect of Tresham and her- 
 self having to superintend, by way of amuse- 
 ment, the working of a tin-mine at St. Austin's. 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am, we consider that there is at 
 present an unusual influx of fashionable company 
 to GUI' Cornish Madeira, as we call this favom*ed 
 spot. I noticed here yesterday, among others 
 of less note. Lord and Lady Penton^dlle, and 
 her ladyship's brother, Su' Andrew Myers, 
 whom you may probably have encountered in 
 the London circles of haut-ton.^^ 
 
 " "Wliatever might be the case elsewhere, at 
 Penzance they will certainly be most amusing- 
 acquaintance, and I shall make a point of finding 
 them out," remarked Tresham. 
 
 l2
 
 220 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " Not that overpowering Lord Pentonville ! — 
 You surely will not bring him here ?" exclaimed 
 his wife. " Sir Andrew is infinitely more endu- 
 rable, since he never speaks intelhgibly, and is 
 quite satisfied with a bow or a smile in answer." 
 
 " The worst of the family by far/' said her 
 brother, " is that absurd Lady Pentonville, who 
 because an old fool took a fancy to her or her 
 fifteen thousand pounds, and saved her at forty 
 from single blessedness, now considers herself a 
 beauty, and assumes so many airs and graces, 
 that I have scarcely patience to remain in the 
 same room with her. And then her pretended 
 affection for her idiot of a brother — when every 
 one knows that she and Lord Pentonville are 
 doing 4II they can to kill him, for the sake of 
 his large fortune, which would doubtless be very 
 acceptable." 
 
 " Sir Andrew looks very ill, poor gentleman — 
 I don't think he '11 trouble them long !" remarked 
 Mr. Hopkinson. "Pray Miss Wentworth," he 
 exclaimed, suddenly addressing Melicent ; " don't
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 221 
 
 you live at Comerford? I should'iit wonder if 
 you knew something of my friend Walsingham." 
 
 " Are you acquainted with Mr. Walsingham, 
 of Marchwood?" enquired MeHcent^ in return, 
 looking up in astonishment that the fascinations 
 of Mr. Hopkinson should have extended to the 
 reserved Mr. "Walsingham, and imagining the 
 horror ^^th which such familiarity was likely to 
 inspire him. 
 
 " Know hull ? — to be sure I do ! — we were at 
 school together — rather a sulky fellow he used 
 to be, but we got on very well — he fagged at 
 my lessons, while I stole apples and pears for 
 him. Stupid old place, Marchwood ! — and as 
 for his mother, I never coidd endure her — she 
 was so amazingly proud." 
 
 " Not a favourable account of your knisfht !" 
 
 . o 
 
 whispered L}Tnington to Isabel. " Hopkinson," 
 he exclaimed, raising his voice, " where did you 
 light upon that exquisite waistcoat?" 
 
 " Oh ! I got it from Tuckwiggin, the best 
 tailor in Launceston. It's one of the newest
 
 222 MAX WENTWORTII. 
 
 patterns, lie assures me — quite Avhat's worn in 
 town." 
 
 " I saw Count d'Orsay in one very like it, 
 the day before I left London/' remarked Tres- 
 ham. " Talking of dress, however, I am de- 
 termined, Lymington, not to go any farther 
 without getting a common straw hat — it would 
 be so much more sensible and useful. One hke 
 yours, Mr. Hopkinson, I mean — large, and 
 shading the face." 
 
 "You are quite right, Mr. Tresham; they are 
 the pleasantest summer wear imaginable. I 
 never put on anything else myself, especially 
 when I am in the hot mining districts." 
 
 "That man will be the ruin of Tresham," 
 murmured his wife pathetically to her neighbour 
 Mr. Stanley. " Really, what with Tresham's 
 whim about mining, and that odious straw hat, 
 I am frightened to death what he may put into 
 his head next ! Miss Wentworth, shall we retire 
 to the next room ?" 
 
 Within an hour afterwards, the whole party.
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 223 
 
 having left the hotel for an evening walk^ -were 
 directing their steps towards the sea shore. 
 The sands presented a gay scene; for all the 
 visitors, in search of pleasure or health, were 
 abroad to enjoy the cool air after the sulti'y 
 day. 
 
 " Do come away 1 — there are those dreadful 
 Pentomilles/' said Mrs. Tresham ; her husband, 
 however, was determined to recognise them, and 
 she was forced to submit. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Tresham, what an unexpected 
 pleasure ! and looldng so charmingly well ! 
 How deho^htfLil this is — to meet one's Mends in 
 this terre inconnue /" 
 
 Lady Pentonville's languishing tones were 
 speedily overpowered by her Lord's superior 
 energv' of voice and manner. 
 
 '' A\Tio ever expected to see you here ? — ha, 
 ha, ha ! Hope you're not come for Mrs. T.'s 
 health ? — ha, ha ! Very dull place this ; but we 
 were obhged to come on Sir Andi'ew's account, — 
 ha, ha, ha !"
 
 224 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 " I hope you are not worse than usual, Sir 
 Andrew ?" asked Mrs. Tresham^ considerately. 
 
 " Why, on the whole, Madam, the genial air 
 of this salubrious spot, hum — m — m — that is, I 
 mean, the heat has been so very intolerable since 
 
 we came here, that — hum ." The rest of Sir 
 
 Andrew's speech was unintelligible. 
 
 " Oh ! Sir Andrew's wonderfully better !" 
 said his brother-in-law, for once, without laugh- 
 ing. "He was almost at death's door — ha, ha, 
 ha ! — not long before we left town — ^lia, ha ! — 
 given over by all his physicians — ha, ha, ha, 
 ha !" 
 
 An introduction of Lord and Lady Penton- 
 ville to the Miss Wentworths now took place, 
 amidst sundry hearty laughs fi-om his Lordship, 
 and as many courtesies and grimaces from his 
 fair helpmate. Tresham next, to his wife's con- 
 sternation, begged they woidd accompany them 
 back to the hotel to tea, an invitation which was 
 readily accepted. 
 
 " Very weak tea for Sir Andrew, if you
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 225 
 
 please, Miss "Wentworth ; and the merest soupgon 
 of sugar ! His poor nerves cannot stand the 
 slightest trial," said his attentive sister, watchiing 
 the composition of the Chinese beverage. Here 
 Sir Andi-ew said something quite incomprehen- 
 sible, accompanied by a low bow to the fair tea 
 maker. ^' Oh ! do not mind him. He says he 
 likes it sweet ; but it is the worst tiling possible 
 for him — is it not. Lord P. ?" 
 
 Poor Sir Andrew resignedly drank his whole- 
 some potion, while his sister continued in a 
 whisper to Mrs. Tresham — 
 
 " Don't you think poor Sh Andi'ew looks 
 terribly ill 1 He had a di-eadftd seizm-e about 
 six weeks since, and we quite thought it impos- 
 sible that he should ever recover ; — but he has 
 a wonderful constitution ! So when he was a 
 Httle better, and beginning to rally, we thought 
 a change might be beneficial, and brought him 
 down here — aU this way, with the greatest pos- 
 sible expedition — ^in the hope of doing him 
 good." 
 
 l5
 
 226 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " I trust that you have succeeded. Sir An- 
 drew does not look very ill at present; and, 
 therefore, the change must, as you say, have 
 proved salutary." 
 
 " I am surprised to hear you say so — every- 
 body thinks poor Sir Andrew so very much 
 altered for the worse since his last seizui-e. But 
 only think how mortifying — after all our trouble 
 we found that we had made a complete mistake ; 
 and that we ought to have taken my poor bro- 
 ther to a more bracing climate, instead of this 
 very relaxing one ! So now we mean to go away 
 from this almost immediately, since the heat is 
 quite destroying him. It is unfortunate that he 
 has such a dislilce to moving about, and cannot 
 be persuaded how necessary it is for him. 
 However, our arrangements being now made 
 for leaving Penzance in a day or two, we have 
 fixed on Scarborough as our next resource. 
 The trouble is nothing, if we can but give relief 
 to the poor sufferer." 
 
 " Surely your brother will find the journey a
 
 MAX WENTWORTH, 227 
 
 very long one, since he dislikes moving so 
 much," said Mrs. Tresham, quite moved with 
 compassion for the luckless fate of poor Su- 
 Andrew. 
 
 " Ah ! but then it is such a very fine healthy 
 place — such a pure bracing aii' ! I am glad it 
 is likely to suit him so well, because Lord P. 
 and myself have several visits to pay at the pre- 
 sent time in that neighbourhood, which will now 
 come in most conveniently." 
 
 " Sir Andrew hasn't a chance in my opinion 
 — ^liis memory's quite gone — ha, ha! — and it's 
 nonsense expecting him to last much longer," 
 said Lord Pentonville, in a suppressed tone, on 
 the other side of Mrs. Tresham. '' Poor 
 fellow ! he's such a constant sufferer, that his 
 death will be quite a happy release — ha, ha ! — 
 and as he's wealthy beyond description — ha, ha ! 
 — and has no other near relative, Letty will no 
 doubt come in for a capital fortune, if he pro- 
 perly considers her kindness and attention — ha, 
 ha, ha, ha!"
 
 228 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Sir Andrew, meanwHle, had seated himself 
 by the side of Isabel, and was endeavouring to 
 entertain her in his usual luminous manner. 
 
 " There is a great deal very well worth seeing 
 here, Miss Isabel ; — the mines, for instance, are 
 in my opinion, hum — very stupid and unin- 
 interesting, hum — and nothing can be more 
 dreary than the greater part of the county, 
 hum " 
 
 ff "Were you speaking of the mines, sir ?" 
 inquired Mr. Hopkinson, who had been rather 
 silent since the late addition to the party. " If 
 you wish it, I can explain the whole thing in the 
 most clear and forcible manner." 
 
 " Thank you. Sir; but I have visited the 
 mines, and shall have the pleasure of detaihng 
 the process to the young lady. You must im- 
 derstand, in the first place, that the ore is, 
 
 hum " Isabel could not catch the end of 
 
 the sentence. " This we observed, and thought 
 it very curious ; and then they took it to the, 
 hum " Here the speaker became again un-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 229 
 
 intelligible. " And positively wliile we stood 
 
 looking at it, hum — m " 
 
 " My dear Sir Andrew ! recollect that open 
 ^^indow — how extremely imprudent in you ! 
 Pray come and sit on this side of the room — 
 Mrs. Tresham will give you a place on the sofa, 
 and you ^^ill find yourself much more comfort- 
 able !" exclaimed Lady Penton^ille, anxious to 
 remove her brother from liis dangerous vicinit\^ 
 to the beautiful Isabel, who was thus deprived 
 of the conclusion of his instructive description 
 of the process of working the nunes. 
 
 " Have you any engagement for to-morrow ?" 
 inquired Tresham ; " or shall we form a party 
 to visit the Land's End, and the Loggin Eock, 
 with the other wonders I see reconunended by 
 our guide-books ? Mr. Hopkinson, I hope you 
 Avill accompany us ?" 
 
 " I shall be very glad to join in anything that 
 is agreeable to you all ; and perhaps I may be 
 of use, as you are strangers, and liable to be 
 imposed on."
 
 230 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " Oil ! we shall be very happy, sha'n't we, 
 Letty ? — ha, ha ! — She's up to anything, just 
 as young as ever ; — ha, ha, ha ! — as strong as a 
 horse — ha, ha !" 
 
 " Heavens, Lord P. ! what do you mean ? 
 I am sure I wish youi' account of me were true ; 
 but I am the poorest creature ! never well two 
 days together ; and now, though nothing could 
 give me greater pleasure than to make one of so 
 delightful a party, yet I really am afraid of 
 proving perfectly unequal to encounter the 
 fatigue in one of the wretched vehicles of the 
 country." 
 
 A look from Tresham forced his wife to be 
 polite. " You can certainly have a seat in my 
 carriage. Lady Pentonville, if you prefer it." 
 
 " Oh ! that will be quite enchanting ? Lord 
 P. and Sir Andrew can get a carriage some- 
 where ; for ours is too heavy for these roads, 
 and we came down too much in a hurry to travel 
 with our own horses. Mille remercimens, dear 
 Mrs. T., for your friendly consideration, and my
 
 3IAX WENTWORTII. 231 
 
 consequent exemption, for to-morrow at least, 
 from the thousand inconveniences fi-om the sun 
 and the dust to which my poor complexion has 
 been exposed since our arrival here . How en\dable 
 is; the beau teint of youi'self and your fair friends 
 — so dehcate, and yet apparently impervious to 
 the attacks of the scorching luminary !"
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " I am sprighted with a fool, 
 Frighted, and angered worse!" 
 
 Cymbeline. 
 
 " Thank heaven^ I have succeeded at last ! " 
 exclaimed Lymington, as in consequence of the 
 change of arrangements induced by the accession 
 of Lady Pentonville to thek party, he had the 
 satisfaction of handing Isabel into his phaeton, 
 while Mr. Hopldnson quietly took his place in 
 the back seat. " I have a thousand things to 
 say, but we will wait till this pretty town, and 
 every thing interesting is left behind, and we 
 find ourselves upon one of those delightful com-
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 233 
 
 mons, TNitli nothing in sight to distract the 
 attention." 
 
 The scene they were passing, was certainly 
 beautiful enough to deserve the sui'vey which 
 Isabel was besto^ving on it. Beyond the plea- 
 sant and scattered cottages, with theii* verandahs 
 gay with creepers and flowering plants, the 
 morning sun was shedding floods of Hght upon 
 the waters, encii'cling St. Michael's Mount, with- 
 out having as yet dispelled thence the veil of 
 mist which hung around it, and seemed to pro- 
 mise another sultry day. In the more remote 
 distance, gradually fading into indistinct clouds, 
 lay the Lizard Rocks ; and on the other hand, 
 gleamed the white sails of a fleet of passing 
 vessels, scarcely less ^i^idly reflected in the 
 waves. 
 
 Isabel turned with regret fi'om the enchant- 
 ing prospect. " I do not beheve you ever saw 
 any thing more beautiful than tliis among the 
 Islands of the Mediterranean." 
 
 " This bay is not at all luilike that of Naples,"
 
 234 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 replied Lymington; "but more than half of 
 these attractions will vanish in the change eiFect- 
 ed on those sparkling waters, by the next few 
 houi's. The tideless sea knows no such diminu- 
 tion of beauty." 
 
 " Neither can you watch from its shores, the 
 ebb and flow of the tide, or walk on the sands, 
 with the waves breaking nearer and nearer to 
 your feet every moment. The constant change 
 makes us enjoy every charm the more. Here, 
 for instance, is one yielding us a scene as lovely 
 as the last." 
 
 They were slowly ascending a steep hill, 
 where the road was on both sides bordered by 
 lofty trees, which excluded the bright sunbeams, 
 and overshadowed the rustic dwelHngs with 
 their tiny gardens, where groups of cliildren 
 were at play, while avenues of equal beauty 
 branched off in every direction. Lord Lyming- 
 ton's desire for an uninteresting locality, ap- 
 peared unhkely to be gratified during that 
 morning's drive, when every turn of the road
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 235 
 
 presented some fresh pictui-e of qiiiet and rm-al 
 loveliness. Several miles were thus traversed, 
 Mr. Hopkinson joming occasionally in the con- 
 versation ; when as they entered upon another 
 long ascent, L}-mington addressed his companion, 
 after a pause of some duration. — 
 
 " I am certaiu, Miss '^^''ent^vorth, that you 
 v.ill rejoice in hearing that I have received 
 positive intelligence of !Mr. Wentworth's return. 
 His landing with some of his adventurous com- 
 rades, was mentioned in. yesterday's newspapers : 
 they were said to have had a very tempestuous 
 passage, and to be in a most destitute con- 
 dition." 
 
 " Is it possible ! " exclaimed the dehghted 
 Isabel ; — then I will not despair- of our effecting 
 a reconcihation. How I long to see him at 
 AVentworth Coiu't." 
 
 "That's a happy man you are speaking of, 
 whom the young lady is so dehghted at the 
 thought of meetuig — you and I, Frank, have no 
 such luck vrith the ladies ! — "
 
 236 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " That odious Mr. Hopkinson ! — I had quite 
 forgotten him ;" thought Isabel. " What can he 
 mean, by caUing Lord Lymington Frank, and 
 by being so disagreeably familiar ? Mr. Went- 
 worth, the gentleman of whom we were speak- 
 ing, Mr. Hopkinson, is my cousin, and nearest 
 relative, though as yet perfectly unknown to 
 me!" 
 
 " Those cousins are always in the way ! " re- 
 marked the facetious Inspector of the mines. 
 " ^ There can be no harm in dancing with my 
 cousin John, as often as I please' — ' It's only 
 cousin Edward !' — and so on, till at last the 
 quiet cousin steps in, and carries off the lady, 
 just when you think the day's your own. I 
 would have you be on your guard against that 
 same cousin of yours, Miss Isabel !" 
 
 " Never mind Hopkinson's nonsense. Miss 
 Wentworth ; but tell me, whether you have 
 thought of any plan for reconciling Maximilian 
 and Sir Arthur ? " 
 
 " Why, you are talking of Max Wentworth!"
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 237 
 
 persisted the incorrigible Hopkinson ; — " he was 
 an odd fellow, if ever there was one ; and much 
 good his notions of Hberty and equality have 
 done him." 
 
 Isabel's colour rose ; to hear her cousin styled 
 Max Wentworth, and an odd fellow, by so de- 
 testable an indi^ddual, was too much ; and turn- 
 ing her back still more clehberately uj)on him, 
 she proceeded to answer Lord Lymington. 
 
 ^^ I camiot imagine what we are to do ; if we 
 could contrive a sudden meeting between my 
 uncle and Mr. Wentworth, perhaps the sight 
 of his nephew would disarm Su* Arthur's re- 
 sentment." 
 
 " I fear Maxim ih' an would never be per- 
 suaded to make the trial ; liis proud and fiery 
 spirit would di-ead too much the recurrence of 
 the reproaches and sarcasms heaped upon him 
 by Sh Ai'thur, during then- last interview." 
 
 " Surely, it could be no degradation for my 
 cousin to acknowledsre his error to an ao-ed rela- 
 
 o o 
 
 tive, to whom he is so deeply indebted.
 
 238 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 " Miss Isabel is quite right," again remarked 
 Mr. Hopkinson. " My friend Max will have 
 sense enough to know on which side his bread 
 is buttered, and I will answer for his not making 
 any difficulties about asking the old gentleman 
 to forgive him." 
 
 Isabel's wrath was every instant encreasing, 
 and most heartily did^she wish every jolt of the 
 carriage over the large stones in the road, might 
 precipitate the Inspector down one of his own 
 tin mines. They were now proceeding more 
 rapidly, and she ventured to say, hoping that 
 the increased noise of the wheels would prevent 
 her words from being overheard, 
 
 " If Mr. Wentworth will write to my uncle_, I 
 will undertake to dehver the letter, and to per- 
 suade him to read it." 
 
 " Could any one desire a fairer messenger ? " 
 said Mr. Hopkinson. " Were I the happy man, 
 I should not know whether I stood on my head 
 or my heels, for joy at the interest you took in 
 me."
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 239 
 
 " I wish yoiu* disagreeable Mend would hold 
 his tongue !" whispered Isabel, provoked beyond 
 bearing ; " or if he must speak, where his opinion 
 is neither asked nor desired, that it mi^ht be 
 mth less familiarity." 
 
 " Oh, you must not mind Hopkinson ! — it is 
 his way. Xow, no one is really more concerned 
 about Mr. Wentworth than he is ; and when he 
 has an opportunity, he ^ill do any thing in the 
 world to serve him, but it must be m his own 
 odd manner. To tell you the truth," continued 
 Lymington, lowering his voice still more, " I 
 have more faith in what Hopkinson may do to- 
 wards heahng the breach between Maximihan 
 and Sir Arthur, than in any thing else ; there- 
 fore, pray let us keep friends with him." 
 
 To remain perfectly silent was the only mode 
 that Isabel could devise in order to secure the 
 continuance of amicable terms between her tor- 
 mentor and herself. For a few moments this 
 plan appeared to succeed, but after devoting
 
 240 MAX WENTWOHTH. 
 
 the space ax^parently to cogitation, Mr. Hop- 
 kinson exclaimed, in a tone of delight : — 
 
 " I have it, Miss Isabel ! — we'll get the old 
 gentleman's consent yet, for I see very well 
 what this cousinly regard will end in, and I 
 shall be very glad of it. There are worse 
 fellows in the world than Max, and I won't 
 grudge him his good luck ; though, Frank, you 
 and I may think it ought to be ^ first come, first 
 served !' But now what will you give me if I 
 find you out a famous plan to come over the old 
 gentleman completely ?" 
 
 '^If you mean Sir Arthur Wentworth, Mr. 
 Hopkinson, I have not the slightest wish or in- 
 tention to delude my uncle in any way; and was 
 only meditating how to inform him of any fa- 
 vourable change that may have taken place in 
 Mr. Wentworth's opinions. Should all cause 
 for anger prove to be over. Sir Arthur is too 
 just aiid reasonable not to forgive his nephew 
 immediately; but if he should still regard his
 
 MAX '^^'EXT WORTH. 241 
 
 conduct as too reprehensible to allow of his re- 
 calling him to AVentworth Coiu't, I shall be 
 quite satisfied that his decision is well founded, 
 and shall certainly not attempt to shake it either 
 by manoeuvring or deception." 
 
 '' See how she blushes ! — Conscious, eh Ly- 
 mington ? Capital sign for Max — lucky dog !" 
 whispered the incorrigible Hopkinson to Ly- 
 mington, in a tone plainly audible to the pro- 
 voked Isabel, who mentally vowed never to go 
 out in a phaeton, with a person inclined to be 
 facetious in the back seat. By way of a climax, 
 L}Tnington, convulsed ^-ith laughter at the 
 whole scene, now caused his horses nearly to 
 overturn the carriage, by accidentally pidling 
 the wrong rein. 
 
 " Upon my soul, Lymington, this is too bad ! 
 You have quite frightened Miss Isabel by your 
 clumsy driAing. Do let me come and take the 
 reins. This back seat too is very inconvenient 
 for carr^dng on a conversation." 
 
 " Frightened ! I shall be in a fever," thought 
 
 VOL. 1. M
 
 242 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Isabel, wisely determining not to speak again if 
 she could possibly avoid it. In another moment, 
 however, Mr. Hopkinson was again addressing 
 her. "You have not yet heard my proposal, to 
 which it is impossible you can have any objection, 
 seeing that the trouble Hes enthely with me. 
 Now when you and your sister go back to 
 Comerford, I will escort you, and then I can 
 talk Sir Arthur round in no time." 
 
 " Go back with Melicent and me to Went- 
 worth Court ! I should be sorry to give you such 
 unnecessary trouble, Mr. Hopkinson. I have 
 no doubt that we shall be able to say what is 
 right on the subject when the time comes; — at 
 present, I must confess I am heartily tired of it." 
 
 Almost as much offended with Lord Lyming- 
 ton as with Mr. Hopkinson, Isabel leaned back in 
 the carriage, and for some time there was a 
 general silence. Her thoughts reverted to the 
 absent MaximiHan — to the anger he would pro- 
 bably have entertained if aware of the hberties 
 taken with her and with his name, by the detes-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 243 
 
 table Hopkinson. Gradually, however, for- 
 getting the latter, Isabel had sunk into a pro- 
 found reverie, when her tormentor, tired of re- 
 maining so long silent, began singing in a loud 
 voice, various comical ditties, which never could 
 have been more ill-timed than when they were 
 traversing a frightful common, with the sun 
 beating full upon them, and one at least of his 
 auditors in the worst possible humoiu'. Isabel 
 always disliked comic songs, but they had never 
 before appeared to her so intolerable ; and in her 
 despah*, she looked forward to the conclusion of 
 the drive for her release, determined that no in- 
 ducement should prevail with her to retiu'n in 
 the same manner. 
 *■ The ocean, as it might now in truth be called, 
 soon lay stretched before them, and the islands 
 of Scilly were seen, like tliin clouds, resting on 
 the surface of the broad Atlantic. Rejoicing at 
 her deliverance fr'om the martyrdom she had 
 been endui'ing, Isabel sprang fr'om the carriage 
 as soon as it stopped, and, declining Lord Ly- 
 
 m2
 
 244 MAX WENTWOUTH. 
 
 mington's support, hastened to join tlie rest of 
 the party. An accidental glance then shewed 
 her Lymington and his extraordinary friend 
 laughing immoderately, and lingering near the 
 carriage until sufficiently composed to follow her ; 
 and her displeasure received a fresh increase 
 from the belief that her own conduct had pro- 
 bably afforded the subject for their excessive 
 merriment. 
 
 " You'll never believe that we have had a 
 world of difficulty to prevent Sir Andrew from 
 chmbing up that Loggin Kock after you, ha, ha, 
 ha ! — He'd have broken his neck to a dead cer- 
 tainty, — wouldn't he, Letty ? ha, ha, ha, !" ex- 
 claimed Lord Pentonville to the more adventu- 
 rous members of the party, when, glad to repose 
 after their fatigues, they rejoined their less active 
 friends at the spot where refr-eshments had been 
 spread for them, beneath the shade of the stu- 
 pendous rocks piled along that part of the coast. 
 Sir Andrew, whose tall figure wore an appear- 
 ance of robustness in singular opposition to his
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 245 
 
 cadaverous countenance, having succeeded in 
 placing himself next Isabel, commenced his ex- 
 ertions for her entertainment, without allowing 
 further space for the comments of his affectionate 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 " I have been much in mountainous countries. 
 Miss Wentworth, and think I may be able to 
 give you some hints that — himi — for instance it 
 is a very bad plan, when about to attempt one 
 of these alarming descents, to shut your eyes, 
 because — hum— but if you put one foot in — and 
 the other after it — you ^ill find it very easy in 
 that peculiar manner to get down any — hum — 
 m— " 
 
 " Have you ever been in Spain, Sir Andrew ?" 
 asked Mr. Hopkinson. " Plenty of mountains 
 there, fi-om all accounts, that would make these 
 look like molehills." 
 
 " I never was actually in Spain myself, sir, 
 but I was once very intimate with a gentleman 
 who — hum — and really it seems all — and now
 
 246 MAX WENTWOKTH. 
 
 particularly when public attention is — and every- 
 thing in a most unsettled state." 
 
 " Unsettled indeed, sir/' remarked the talka- 
 tive Inspector; "and not the kind of place I 
 have any manner of wish to find myself in just 
 now. I have heard a good deal about it lately, 
 from Lymington's particular friend and mine, 
 poor Mr. Wentworth, the cousin of these young 
 ladies, when he was staying with me at my place. 
 Mount Pleasant. Glad enough Max was to 
 get into warm quarters in my snug little box, 
 after his starvation with the Dons. It was well 
 there were no ladies to look at him when he 
 landed, for he cut but a strange figure till I had 
 lent him a suit of my clothes to make him a httle 
 respectable." 
 
 "By the bye, Hopkinson," said Lymington, 
 while Isabel in silent indignation brooded over 
 the idea of her cousin Maximilian arrayed in 
 Mr. Hopkinson's best duck -hunter — " since you 
 have been at Comerford, did you ever see Max's 
 love, the prettiest lass in Devonshire, Jemima
 
 MAX WEI5TW0RTH. 247 
 
 GubbiuSj or some such exalted appellation — a 
 miller's daughter ?" 
 
 " The worthy Inspector seems to find this rather 
 an unpleasant subject; — some rivalry "vvith the 
 fascinating Mr. Wentworth!" wliispered Tresham 
 to Isabel. 
 
 " Look, the odious creature is actually blush- 
 ing !" said his ydfe, aside to Stanley. " How 
 very ridiculous ! — only fancy hini in love." 
 
 " How can you repeat that absurd story, Ly- 
 mington?" said Mr. Hopkinson, who had now 
 recovered, in some measure, from his unaccount- 
 able confusion. " You are well aware that Sir 
 Arthur's pecuhar disposition, good and noble as 
 he is, would cause him to view in a serious light, 
 what in fact was nothing but a mere piece of 
 foolish gallantry. I can testify to Max's having 
 been cui-ed of more dangerous foUies by his 
 campaign with the Christinos, and to his coming 
 home fully convinced of the follies of liberalism, 
 and Tory enough to satisfy even Sir Arthur 
 Wentworth."
 
 248 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " I hope that you will give Mr. Wentworth 
 the meeting at St. Austin's, Mr. Hopkinson," 
 said Tresham. " I am expecting him about the 
 time of our return, and if not able to accompany 
 us back, we shall look forward to a speedy visit 
 from you. Our's must not prove the mere ac- 
 quaintance of a day." 
 
 "You do me infinite honour, Mr. Tresham; 
 and may certainly depend upon my availing my- 
 self of your polite invitation. I have reasons 
 of my own for wishing especially to witness Mr. 
 Wentworth's arrival ; " added the Inspector, 
 with a sagacious glance at Isabel, who had heard 
 the invitation given with as much consternation 
 as Mrs. Tresham, by whom the estabhshment 
 of the St. Austin Tin Mine was now regarded as 
 a matter of certainty. 
 
 "Miss Wentworth, the interesting topic at 
 present in discussion," began Sir Andrew Myers, 
 with great deliberation, and not having perceived 
 any change in the subject of conversation, 
 " renders me desirous of making you thoroughly
 
 MAX %\*ENT WORTH. 249 
 
 xmderstand the nature of the Spanish constitu- 
 tion, and the origin of the — hum — Now you 
 must know there is a law in force in most of the 
 continental kingdoms, called the Saline law, 
 whereby females are — hum — Tliis however, not 
 suiting the views of — occasioned an altercation — 
 hum — Don Carlos, the undoubted — hum — and 
 !Mr. A^^entworth, will consequently — hum — suc- 
 ceed finally to the thi'one — and then this gTeat 
 country ^ill — hum — " 
 
 What was to become of the luckless Peninsula^ 
 was of course utterly unintelligible, owing to Sir 
 Andrew's singular mode of pronunciation. 
 
 Isabel's resolution not again to commit herself 
 to the care of Lord Lpnington, had already in- 
 duced her to take an opportunity of entreating 
 Melicent to exchange places Avith her for the 
 return home. She trusted that Mr. Hopkinson 
 would find no subject to be facetious upon ^vith 
 her sister, yet it was not T;\dthout many mis- 
 givings as to the amiabihty of her proceeding 
 in thus imposing upon Mehcent's imprudent 
 
 M 5
 
 250 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 good nature, that after numerous reproaches 
 from Lymington and his fiiend for her desertion 
 of them, (a circumstance which Mr. Hopkinson 
 attributed entirely to her alarm at his lordship's 
 bad driving), she took her seat in Mrs. Tresham's 
 carriage. There was pleasure, however, in 
 being relieved from the sound of the obnoxious 
 Inspector's voice. Lady Pentonville quite won 
 her favour by her horror at his extreme vulga- 
 rity, and the drive, in comparison with that of 
 the morning, now appeared to her perfectly 
 delightful.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ** Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit 
 grows melancholy ?" 
 
 Love's Labour Lost. 
 
 Waking or sleeping, Isabel seemed to be 
 haunted by the idea of the odious Mr. Hop- 
 kinson; and no sooner had she unclosed her 
 eyes upon the following morning, than she joy- 
 ftdly exclaimed, 
 
 '« Oh, Melicent ! what a happy day this will 
 be ! — that hateful man said last night that he 
 could not go any faither with us ; and, there- 
 fore, we shall get rid of him directly after 
 breakfast."
 
 252 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 " Do you mean poor Mr. Hopkinson? I 
 cannot tliink what has made you take so violent 
 a dislike to him. He is certainly very harmless, 
 and so perfectly good-humoured and unpre- 
 tending." 
 
 " Unpretending ! I never saw any one so de- 
 testable in my life. All night I have been 
 dreaming of that drive in Lord Lymington's 
 phaeton. How could you endure it so patiently?" 
 
 " I cannot say that my temper was so severely 
 tried as yours seems to have been ; on the con- 
 trary, the time passed very pleasantly. Lord 
 Lymington is always agreeable ; and although 
 his friend is certainly not very refined, yet he 
 conversed in a sensible and rational manner, and 
 seems to possess considerable information on 
 many subjects. He has been much abroad — in 
 the way of his business, I suppose — and his des- 
 criptions, though quaint, are extremely amusing. 
 Altogether he is the kind of person I should 
 never think of dislildng on account of a few 
 inoffensive originalities of manner."
 
 MAX WE:ST WORTH. 253 
 
 " This is worse than all; — to find that he 
 could imagine me one upon whom he could 
 freely exercise liis impertinence. Inoflfensive 
 and unpretending you call him ; while I regard 
 him as the most presumingly famihar individual 
 I ever was unfortunate enough to encounter. 
 What perplexes me most is how he could pos- 
 sibly become thus ultimately acquainted with 
 Lord Lymington and Mr. Y>'ent worth." 
 
 " That does appear strange ; but as he says 
 he was at school ^vith Mr. AValsingham, I shordd 
 think he must have known them also when a 
 boy, and have been in very inferior society ever 
 since. His accoutrements certainly are the 
 oddest I ever saw ; but his countenance is pleas- 
 ing and inteUigent." 
 
 " I declare, MeHcent, you must have fallen in 
 love with the wretch ! Indeed I begm to have 
 faith in the efficacy of love charms and philtres ; 
 for it is impossible to doubt that there is some 
 spell at work respecting liim. Mr. Tresham 
 and Lord Lymington both profess to entertain
 
 254 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 the highest opinion of this extraordinary being ; 
 and you assert that he is pleasing and intelli- 
 gent ! Your rising so early this morning is, I 
 suppose, in fulfilment of some engagement made 
 during your agreeable conversation. Heaven 
 forbid that I should interfere with such a pro- 
 ject ! Pray draw the curtain, and let me go to 
 sleep again ; for I mean to be late at breakfast 
 in order to see as little of him as possible." 
 
 Having compHed mth her request, Melicent 
 left the hotel to take a farewell wall^ along the 
 beach, since they were to leave Penzance soon 
 after breakfast. The freshness of the morning, 
 and the pleasure of treading the cool firm sands 
 close to the sparkling waves, easily induced her 
 to prolong her ramble to a considerable distance 
 from the town. She knew that there was no 
 occasion for haste, as the late habits of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Tresham prevented any expectation of 
 their appearance before an advanced hour of the 
 day; and she was just beginning to think of 
 retracing her steps, when suddenly she per-
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 255 
 
 ceivecl advancing towards her a figni'e, which a 
 second glance was unnecessary to enable her to 
 recognise as that of the weai'er of the well- 
 known straw hat and duck-hunter. Not a Httle 
 amused as she thought of Isabel's accusation, 
 and of the confirmation likely to be aflforded to 
 her siu'mises, should Mr. Hopkinson tliink it 
 necessary to retiu'n with her to the hotel, she 
 awaited his approach, determined not to be rude 
 to one whom she considered so very harmless 
 and insignificant. 
 
 " You are, like myself, an early riser, Mr. 
 Hopkinson," she pohtely observed, on his join- 
 ing her, and lifting his straw hat in respectful 
 obeisance. 
 
 " Yes," he repHed, with a graver aii* than 
 was usual with him ; " I did not sleep well last 
 night." 
 
 '^ I am sorry to hear it ; an early walk is cer- 
 tainly very refreshing after passing the night im- 
 comfortably." 
 
 Mr. Hopkinson continued to walk silently
 
 256 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 by her side. Melicent good-naturedly felt qiiite 
 sorry for the poor man, who seemed so unwell 
 and low-spirited ; and determined to talk to him 
 a little, though rather puzzled as to the choice 
 of a topic. 
 
 " The bathing here appears to be excellent," 
 she at last remarked. " Pray is the place one of 
 much resort in summer ?" 
 
 " I really do not know ; — I never was here be- 
 fore the other day." 
 
 " Indeed !" said his companion, somewhat 
 surprised that he should never have seen a town 
 near which he had resided all his life. " Mount 
 Pleasant, then, is at some distance from Pen- 
 zance ?" 
 
 " Yes — no ! what was I saying ? — that I had 
 never been here before ? — How very absurd !" 
 
 " What can be the matter with him ?" thought 
 Melicent ; " he seems very much out of spirits ; 
 I will talk of something else. I am sorry that 
 Mr. Tresham has not time to take us to see the 
 mines ; — they must be very curious and in-
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 257 
 
 teresting, and you would have been kind enough 
 to explain it all to us." 
 
 " Perhaps it is as well as it is. It is ground I 
 have no desire to go over again; nor have I 
 acquitted myself so satisfactorily of late, as to 
 have any reason to hope that better success 
 should attend my fatm-e efforts in that line !" 
 
 " Something has gone wrong in his business, 
 poor man !" thought ^lehcent ; and wholly at 
 a loss for consolation, she remained silent, till, 
 to her surprise, he hesitatingly expressed a 
 hope that her sister had not been prevented by 
 fatigue from accompanying her in her walk. 
 
 " Can he have been thinking all this time of 
 Isabel, or of his tin mines?" Melicent inter- 
 nally wondered, as, after being reassured on the 
 subject of Isabel's health, he again became taci- 
 turn and absent. 
 
 " I am very much afraid," he at length began, 
 in the same hesitatmg manner as before — " I 
 am very much afraid that your sister was offended 
 with me vesterdav. I wish Lvminsfton had
 
 258 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 given me a hint ! However, it was all a jest, 
 and I hope you will have the goodness to tell 
 her so ; and how sorry I am that she should have 
 been annoyed." 
 
 " Certainly I will tell her so if you wish it ; 
 but I am sure Isabel will not tliink a second time 
 of anything of the sort, Mr. Hopkinson; and, 
 indeed, I have no reason to believe that she feels 
 at all offended," said Melicent, who concluded 
 that Isabel merely dishk^d the poor man on ac- 
 count of his unintentional faults of manner. 
 
 " It was evident that your sister felt seriously 
 displeased," persisted Mr. Hopkinson, in a 
 tone bordering so nearly upon the sentimental, 
 and contrasting so ludicrously with his appear- 
 ance and ordinary manner, that Melicent with 
 difficulty preserved her gravity. " I would give 
 the world not to have behaved as I did ; — parti- 
 cularly when she had been so kind, and shown 
 so much amiabihty of character. I never in- 
 tended to go so far ; but I was led on by de- 
 grees. Had not my spiiits been unusually
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 259 
 
 elated, I never should have forgotten myself so 
 completely." 
 
 " Does the man mean that he was intoxi- 
 cated ? or can he possibly have been making 
 love to Isabel? This, then, is the reason of 
 her extreme aversion ! I am sui'e I can no 
 longer wonder at it," thought Mehcent ; wliile 
 she quickened her pace, -v^-iUing to escajoe from a 
 companionship which was every moment growing 
 more disagreeable. Mr. Hopkinson, however, 
 also walked on faster, and continued ; — 
 
 " I am glad that you do not think Miss Isabel 
 as much offended with me as I fancied. I 
 should sincerelv reorret ha^-insr incurred her 
 dishke." 
 
 " I cannot tell what occasion has been afford- 
 ed my sister for displeasure, Mr. Hopkinson. 
 From what you say, it seems to have been more 
 serious than I supposed ; she has not mentioned 
 to me any thing of the offence you acknowledge 
 having given her, and you must know best, 
 whether it is such as she is likely to forgive.
 
 260 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " In case of my having made an unfavourable 
 impression. Miss Wentworth, I trust that it may- 
 be, in some measure, effaced before our next 
 meeting ; and, in the mean time let me assure 
 you, that there is nothing in the world I should 
 lose with greater reluctance, than the regard 
 and kind sympathy of your sister." 
 
 " My sister is not in the habit of bestowing 
 either upon strangers, Mr. Hopkinson. I should 
 imagine, therefore, that you need entertain no 
 apprehension of losing them.." 
 
 Her companion looked at her, as if greatly 
 amused by her grave dignity of manner. " We 
 shall see," was his answer, in his ordinary tone 
 of facetiousness. " Things haven't gone on well 
 up to the present, certainly ; but young ladies 
 are privileged, you know, to alter their opinions. 
 If Miss Isabel objects to my profession, I shall 
 not scruple to drop it, and become a gentleman 
 at large ; so you see, I mean to do every thing 
 in my power to accommodate her, and humour 
 her whims and fancies."
 
 MAX WEXTWOETH. 261 
 
 Any reply fi'om Melicent was prevented, by 
 their being met by Lord L^nnington, with a 
 summons to breakfast ; he, -s^ith the rest of the 
 party, having watched their approach from the 
 windows of the hotel. Mr. Hopkinson seemed 
 fully to have regained his usual spirits, and Me- 
 licent wondered whether he really had any hope, 
 that by gi^'ing up his tin mines, he might win 
 the love of the beautiful Isabel. 
 
 On entering the sitting-room, ^lehcent found 
 added to the party there. Lord and Lady Pen- 
 ton\TQe, and Sir Andrew Myers, who had called 
 to take leave, pre™usly to then* friends' depar- 
 ture. Lord Pentom-ille's laugh was the first 
 sound that reached Mehcent's ear. 
 
 " Better late than never ! — ha, ha ! — Ts'othing 
 so conducive to health, as waUdng before break- 
 fast ; — ^ha, ha, ha ! — It would do Letty a world 
 of good ; but then she has no inducement to get 
 up so early, — ha, ha, ha, ha !" 
 
 " It has undoubtedly been of service to Miss 
 Wentworth," said Tresham, looking at her ma
 
 262 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 liciously. " I would advise every one who 
 studies the art of beauty, to adopt this effica- 
 cious plan for becomingly heightening the com- 
 plexion." 
 
 Melicent's gravity wholly gave way, when she 
 saw the expression of countenance worn by 
 Isabel, who, however, remained perfectly silent, 
 as if too much horrified to venture to speak. 
 
 " I congratulate you, Hopkinson, on your 
 encreased fascinations," cried Lord Lymington. 
 "Yesterday, you vainly tried to please Miss 
 Isabel Wentworth; but this morning, you have 
 evidently succeeded better with her sister." 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Wentworth understands me, and 
 so will Miss Isabel in time," returned the In- 
 spector, as he took his place at the table. " We 
 shall all be capital friends yet; — shan't we, 
 Miss Wentworth ? — It's a nice morning, and 
 we've had an uncommonly pleasant walk !" 
 
 " Very likely ! — ha, ha ! — I remember when 
 such things were agreeable enough ; but the 
 day is gone by with me, for expecting such
 
 MAX ^VTENTWOHTH. 263 
 
 favours from young ladies, — ha, ha, ha ! — How- 
 ever, I can't sufficiently commend your prin- 
 ciple of seizing time by the forelock, Mr. Hop- 
 kinson, — ha, ha, ha, ha !" 
 
 " Well then, don't all be plaguing Miss 
 "Wentsv'orth, just because she was good enough 
 to take a httle auing with me !" said Mr. Hop- 
 Idnson, considerately. " I declare it has made 
 me feel altogether a different man ; I was quite 
 in low spii'its this morning, wasn't I, Miss 
 AVentworth?" 
 
 "WTiile Mehcent, at once entertained and 
 provoked, longed to say how folly she now 
 agreed with Isabel in her dislike. Lady Penton- 
 ■vdlle observed to ^Irs. Tresham, 
 
 " How thankful I am not to be compelled to 
 remain at Penzance, after the loss of your de- 
 hghtfol party! From the fii*st we considered 
 the place triste, but now it would be absolutely 
 insupportable; — woidd it not. Lord P. ?" 
 
 " Oh, quite unbearable ! — ha, ha, ha ! A\Tiat 
 can make you bury yourself down here in Corn-
 
 264 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 wall, Mr. Tresham ? It will certainly kill Mrs. 
 T. if you make her stop through the winter — ha, 
 ha, ha, ha!" 
 
 " Indeed I would much rather stay quietly at 
 St. Austin's, now that we have once settled 
 there," said Mrs. Tresham. "1 detest moving." 
 
 " So do I, madam ;" observed Sir Andrew. 
 " Of all things in the world, there is nothing to 
 which I am so averse as travelling, and yet we 
 are always — ^hum — They say my health requires 
 it, but it seems to me that I am invariably better 
 when — hum — ' ' 
 
 " That is what poor Sir Andrew constantly 
 says ! He does not in the least know what suits 
 his constitution — does he, Lord P. ?" 
 
 " Oh no ! — he'd be dead in a week if we did 
 not take care of him — ha, ha ha, ha !" 
 
 The carriages were now announced, and 
 Mrs. Tresham, whose compassion had been un- 
 usually excited for the hapless victim she was 
 leaving to the tender mercies of his interested 
 relations, was now called on bv her husband to
 
 MAX AVE^^TWORTH. 265 
 
 hasten her adieus. Sir Andrew politely offered 
 his arm to Isabel, to conduct her down stairs. 
 
 " My sister has abeady expressed the regret 
 -we must all experience. Miss AVentworth, at 
 parting with such — hum — I should desire, neyer- 
 theless, more distinctly to state my — hum — and 
 hope that at some future time it will be — hum — 
 At present I can only wish you every possible 
 fehcity which yoiu* — hum — " 
 
 Whether Isabel had any prospect at a future 
 period of becoming Lady flyers, she could not 
 tell, but recollecting Mrs. Tresham's definition 
 of a proper answer for vSir Andi'ew, she smiled 
 and bowed, hoping that he would be perfectly 
 satisfied. 
 
 " It's not hkely we shall meet again in a hurry 
 — ha, ha, ha ! — AVe are off to Scarborough to- 
 morrow, while you are going to shut yom-selves 
 up here in the ^vdlds. You'll certainly never 
 survive it — ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 " I am cominced I need not say how much 
 pleasure it T\ill give Lord P, and myself to see 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 any of your delightful party at Pentonvilie 
 House, should some fortunate accident bring 
 you into our neighbourhood, when we happen 
 to be at home, though, I am sorry to' say, that 
 is but seldom the case, owing to the importuni- 
 ties of our numerous friends and connections, 
 and the constant change necessary for poor Sir 
 Andrew. Adieu ! since for the present part we 
 must. We shall, of course, meet in town in 
 the spring." 
 
 " I wish you a pleasant journey, ladies and 
 gentlemen;" said Mr. Hopkinson, who stood 
 bowing, with his straw hat in his hand, on the 
 steps at the entrance to the hotel. 
 
 " Don't fail us, Hopkinson, at St. Austin's ;" 
 said Tresham, mounting his horse. 
 
 " Oh, never fear ! — I shall be down upon you 
 soon!" returned the facetious Inspector, with 
 a parting wave of his hat, as the carriages drove 
 from the door, and he retreated into the house.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " The beautiful hath vanished, ar.d returns not." 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 ^' Let me persuade you, Mrs. Tresham, not to 
 attempt that precipitous descent ! /, who have 
 seen rocks and caverns enough in my hfe, will 
 remain to take care of you ; while Tresham and 
 Lymington escort the !Miss Wentworths on their 
 adventurous pilgiimage to the Cove of the 
 Cornish Saint." 
 
 " Indeed I should prefer remaining in the 
 carriage. As Mr. Stanley says, it would tire 
 me to death to go do\\'n, and I should not enjoy 
 it in the least. Besides, the sands are wet, 
 and it is raining quite fast." 
 
 ^'2
 
 268 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 " Yo?i will not permit a few drops of rain to 
 deprive you of the object of our tedious drive 
 over the moors, Miss Wentworth?" said Tre- 
 sham, as he rode up to the carriage ; which, for 
 the last two or three hours, had been slowly and 
 painfully dragged by the beautiful horses, to 
 Mrs. Tresham's infinite alarm, along a narrow 
 road, where the wheels had been buried to the 
 axletree in the deep sand. The mist, which 
 had been gathering since their departure from 
 Penzance, was now changing into rain ; and, as 
 she looked with dismay at the steep and rugged 
 path conducting to the shore, it was with a 
 sensation of great relief that Mrs. Tresham 
 heard and acceded to Mr. Stanley's welcome 
 proposal. While her husband stood waiting to 
 assist the Miss Wentworths from the carriage, 
 she leaned back with an air of the most deter- 
 mined laziness, saying languidly, — " The thing 
 is impracticable — I really cannot attempt it. 
 How can you wish us to descend that dreadful 
 path in such a tempest ?" — And the head of the
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 269 
 
 barouche ha^-ing been raised, and every precau- 
 tion taken to sliield her from the damp, she was 
 left to enjoy her quiet tete-a-tete with Mr. 
 Stanley. 
 
 The route pursued by the rest of the party 
 brought them, in a few moments, to a scene 
 differing not more widely, in its grandeur and 
 desolation, from the fertile country round Pen- 
 zance, than from the sparkling granite rocks 
 and bright blue ocean of the western coast. 
 Black masses of rock, their summits enwreathed 
 in mist, stood abruptly out upon the white sands, 
 sometimes forming arches and pillai's of various 
 kinds^ or gloomy caverns like the one dedicated 
 to St. Kynan ; where the noise of the neigh- 
 bouring waters, that in a few hoiu's would flow 
 over their footprints, and the hoarse screaming 
 of the gulls and cormorants they disturbed 
 among the winding recesses, inight have terrified 
 more mascuhne spii'its than those of MeHcent 
 and Isabel. It may be doubted whether the 
 rapturous description afterwards given by Isabel
 
 270 MAX WENT WORTH. 
 
 made Mrs. Tresham at all repent her preference 
 for the agreeable conversation with Mr. Stanley 
 which their return interrupted. Fortunately, 
 she was not called upon for any farther exertion, 
 or admiration of the country through which 
 they drove, during a day of incessant rain ; and 
 it was a welcome sight, even to the most enthu- 
 siastic of the travellers, when the turrets of the 
 old Abbey appeared rising among its circling 
 woods. 
 
 " After all," exclaimed Isabel, on a yet 
 nearer approach, though the sun was not then 
 irradiating the Gothic casements, or the placid 
 river ; " after all, nothing that we have seen is 
 so beautiftd as St. Austin's !" 
 
 When they were all reassembled after dinner, 
 Mr. Tresham, addressing his brother-in-law, 
 said, " I have had several letters to-day, Ly- 
 mington, about the approaching election, which 
 is likely to be severely contested. It seems that 
 I am expected to exert myself on the occasion." 
 
 " And you will, of coui'se, do so ?" replied
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 271 
 
 Lymington. " Yom- influence ought to be con- 
 siderable on this side of the county." 
 
 " When I fii'st came here, I should have 
 laughed at the idea of taking any part in a 
 county election; but, latterly, I have thought 
 of remaining more at St. Austin's. I should not 
 wish to be an unpopular man in the neighbour- 
 hood ; and must, therefore, I suppose, make 
 up my mind to enter more into local proceed- 
 ings." 
 
 " Heavens, Tresham !" exclaimed his wife, 
 " you do not mean that you are going to inter- 
 fere in an election ? What can induce you to 
 trouble yourself with county pohtics ? I hope, 
 at any rate, that you do not expect me to call 
 upon people, or give pai'ties to please them !" 
 
 " I assure you," rephed her husband, sarcas- 
 tically, ^' nothing can be farther from my wishes 
 or intentions than to see you interfere in any- 
 thing of the sort. I do not tliink that you would 
 be a very efficient person on such an occasion. 
 Were you to incite the county families to St.
 
 272 MAX WENTWOUTH. 
 
 Austin's, you would lie on your sofa, and offend 
 them mortally by leaving them to entertain each 
 other ; — unless, perhaps, the Miss Wentworths 
 took pity on them. No ! if I am to be popular, 
 you had certainly better follow the bent of your 
 own inchnation, and be too great an invaUd to 
 see any one." 
 
 " I am sure I am very glad to hear it," said 
 Mrs. Tresham. ^^ I know I should do it all 
 wrong; and if you have any regard for your 
 own comfort, you will leave them to manage 
 their own affairs." 
 
 " No !" answered Tresham, " these are not 
 times for any man to stand neuter. I am my- 
 self invited to stand for this division of the 
 county ; but that is out* of the question — I 
 should hate the bore of the thing as much as 
 you would ; but, as far as I can go, I will. I 
 shall be forced, I find, to leave St. Austin's early 
 to-morrow morning, and shall only return in 
 time for a late dinner." 
 
 " I think you are perfectly right, Tresham, in
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 273 
 
 interesting yourself in these affairs, if you mean 
 to reside in the neighboui'hood/' remarked 
 Lymington. " The hfe of a country gentleman 
 ■without pohtics would be as unendurable as 
 without field sports ; — and I wish you, Laura, 
 would join more in society — it would do you 
 good." 
 
 " Pray do not think of such a thing, Frank, 
 — it makes me shudder ! Tsothing is so tire- 
 some as country ^-isiting — to have miles to go 
 to see disagreeable people 1 I coidd not endure 
 it. Tresham must do as he pleases ; but I will 
 have nothing to do vrith. the good of the county 
 or the neighboiu'hood." 
 
 " Quite right, Mrs. Tresham," said Stanley. 
 " Country ^dsitins: is the most lamentable waste 
 of time ! You have no choice of acquaintance ; 
 — you must be thankfid for any one to make 
 up your tedious dinner-parties. It would kill 
 you in a month, I am convinced. Then no 
 words are too strong to express the horrors of 
 electioneering ! — and, after all, people are never 
 
 N 5
 
 274 MAX WENTWOKTH. 
 
 satisfied — you have done too much or too little. 
 I congratulate you on your wise resolution of 
 keeping clear of it altogether." 
 
 " Pray do not let us mention the word again ! 
 Isabel will sing to us^ and banish the recollection 
 of anything so overpowering ;" and while Isabel 
 comphed with her request, Mrs. Tresham leaned 
 indolently back upon her sofa, in happy uncon- 
 sciousness that she had vexed and annoyed her 
 husband and brother ; and, before the song was 
 ended, she had totally forgotten the whole con- 
 versation. Mr. Tresham, however, had been 
 quite in earnest in what he had said ; and the 
 next morning, and several succeeding ones, saw 
 him and Lord Lymington engaged in avocations 
 that necessarily kept them much away from 
 home. The time during their absence did not 
 pass as pleasantly as usual to the Miss Went- 
 worths. Mr. Stanley, who was constantly with 
 them, but who seldom thought it worth while to 
 bestow notice on anybody except Mrs. Tresham, 
 became, from his positive manners and disrc-
 
 MAX WEXTWORTH. 275 
 
 spectful style of speaking of ^Ir. Tresham, even 
 in the presence of his ynfe, every hour more 
 disagreeable; while liis beha^-iour had now 
 assumed so familiar an air towai'ds Mrs. Tresham, 
 who never appeared to notice what was passing 
 around her, that Mehcent longed for an oppor- 
 tunity of awakening her attention to its impro- 
 priety^, and to the danger of Mr. Tresham's per- 
 ceiving and taking offence at his impertinence 
 to himself, and his increasing intimacy with his 
 engaging and indolent wife.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " A truce with your compliments and your gal- 
 lantries! — where is the supper?'* 
 
 Arabian Story of Maria, the Girdle Maker. 
 
 " Tresham rates our patience highly ! " ex- 
 claimed Stanley, as he stood before the fire, 
 which the late stormy weather had rendered al- 
 most necessary. " This is the third time he and 
 Lymington have kept us waiting for dinner in 
 this unconscionable manner ! " 
 
 " The rain falls so heavily/' observed Melicent, 
 "that it is not very surprising that Mr. Tresham 
 should have been delayed in his return."
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 277 
 
 " Were I you^ Mrs. Tresham, I would wait 
 no longer. Tresham will probably return by the 
 time we have sat doAvn, unless lie means to dine 
 elsewhere, in which case he might have had the 
 civility to let you know." 
 
 "Oh, I am in no hurry," said Mrs. Tresham; 
 "it is not of the least consequence when we 
 dine, you know ; only I should not like to order 
 it before Tresham comes home." 
 
 " Detained canvassing !" remarked Stanley, 
 sarcastically, as he walked about the room. '^ I 
 cannot imagine any person less qualified than 
 our friend to conduct such a business. — Your 
 brother's spirit and good humoiu' will carry him 
 through the tiring, but it must be glorious to see 
 the innumerable absurdities committed by the 
 fastidious Tresham, in endeavouring to render 
 himself popular with the canaille ! " 
 
 A servant now entering, deUvered to Mrs. 
 Tresham a note from her husband, acquainting 
 her with his having been induced by the state of 
 the weather, and other circumstances, to remain
 
 278 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 at , and that he was not to be expected at 
 
 home until the following morning. 
 
 " Thank heaven ! " exclaimed Stanley, as he 
 heard the directions given in consequence, and 
 the diminished party obeyed the desired siunmons 
 to the dining room. 
 
 The evening passed but slowly, for Mr. Stan- 
 ley was, in the opinion of the Miss Wentworths 
 at least, an indifFeient substitute for Tresham 
 and Lymington, and Mrs. Tresham was more 
 than ordinarily silent, and appeared visibly low- 
 spirited and nervous. At an earher hour than 
 usual, she rose to withdraw for the night, and 
 as the Miss Wentworths were about to separate 
 from her to retire to their apartments, she whis- 
 pered to Melicent, 
 
 " Pray have the goodness to come with me to 
 my dressing-room ; — I really do wish most par- 
 ticulgtrly to consult you." 
 
 Not a httle surprised at the hurried and agi- 
 tated manner which accompanied these words, 
 Melicent immediately comphed, and followed
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 279 
 
 Mrs. Tresham to her apartment, the door of 
 which she carefully closed, and then invited 
 MeUcent to place herself on the sofa. " Do sit 
 here by the fire, where you will be comfortable ; 
 for I assure you I have a great deal to say, and 
 I am afraid you will be sadly tu-ed." 
 
 Assurinsr Mrs. Tresham of her interest in 
 whatever she might wish to commmiicate, and 
 that she need not apprehend her being fatigued, 
 MeHcent sat down as du-ected, and waited with 
 considerable cm-iosity for the sequel. Mrs. 
 Tresham's unwonted excitement appeared mean- 
 while to have subsided, and she looked greatly 
 at a loss how to begin. 
 
 " It really does seem very foohsh to trouble 
 you about such a trifle," she at last said; "but 
 then I am so very uncomfortable when I have 
 anything to manage, and, after all I never do it 
 right. Xow you are so rational, and have so 
 much more decision, that I know you mil help 
 me." 
 
 Melicent, stiU more sui'prised, entreated Mrs.
 
 280 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 Tresham to tell her in what way it was possible 
 for her to give her assistance ; and, with renewed 
 courage, her companion proceeded. 
 
 " Well then, my dear, I will tell yon at once 
 what it is that annoys me. Most provoking it 
 certainly is — because Stanley used to be such 
 a very great favourite of mine. Latterly, how- 
 ever, you have no idea how disagreeable he has 
 been — especially since he last came to St. Aus- 
 tin's. — Some time ago, I remember, he used to 
 be always talking great nonsense when we were 
 alone, but it did not particularly strike me, and 
 then he went on getting worse and worse — and 
 now I cannot tell what I am to do to make him 
 behave differently." 
 
 " It would surely not be very difficult to show 
 Mr. Stanley, by your own manner, how much 
 the alteration in his was displeasing to you," 
 said MeHcent. much astonished at her friend's 
 incapacity. " I had no idea that he was not in 
 as high favour with you as ever." 
 
 " But that is exactly what I have been trying
 
 MAX WEXTAVORTH. 281 
 
 to do all tlie time — at leasts ever since I thought 
 at all about it/' replied Mrs. Tresham, iii a des- 
 pairing accent ; '^ and I suppose any one else 
 could do it, only I have not the least conception 
 how to begin — because if I remain silent, he is 
 only the more ridiculous, and if I were to speak 
 to him, I am siu'e I shoidd not know what to 
 say. "WTiat is worse than tliis, however," she 
 continued, in the sanie tone of languid distress, 
 " is, that I am so afraid Frank should notice it. 
 I do not think that he ever hked Stanley, and I 
 am frightened to death lest he should find out 
 that he makes love to me." 
 
 "And are you not still more afr-aid of Mr. 
 Tresham's discovering that his fr'iend takes ad- 
 vantage of his hospitahty to annoy you in this 
 manner?" enqmred Mehcent. 
 
 "Oh, I should never recover the di-ead of 
 Tresham's anger if he were to observe it — but 
 then that is not at all likely, since he never does 
 observe anythmg about me, and would only 
 laugh at the very idea of such a tiring as tliis."
 
 282 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 "I cannot agree with you in tliinking Mr. 
 Tresham less likely than your brother to notice 
 Mr. Stanley's very pointed attention/' returned 
 Melicent; "and, certainly, if he did remark it, 
 there can be no doubt that his measures to check 
 such boldness would not be of the most gentle 
 or moderate character." 
 
 " If you really think Tresham is Hkely to re- 
 mark it/' exclaimed his now almost terrified 
 wife, " then sometliing must be done ; but, 
 what that is to be, I cannot imagine. Now it 
 seems to me, but perhaps I may be wrong, that 
 Stanley does not speak in a proper way about 
 Tresham. — What do you think?" 
 
 "I am quite certain that he does not; and 
 have been much surprised that you should allow 
 Mr. Stanley to speak as he constantly does of 
 Mr. Tresham in your presence. To-day, for 
 instance, what could be more disrespectftd to 
 his hospitable friend and your husband, than 
 his remarks on his unavoidable detention ?" 
 
 " Oh, you are quite right, I know, and it was
 
 MAX WENTWORTH. 283 
 
 very unpleasant for me to hear hini — and very 
 unlike a gentleman in him to talk so ; — but then, 
 Stanley has seen so many of Tresham's strange 
 whims^ that I do not wonder at his laughing at 
 this new canvassing fancy, which will be over in 
 a few days, and then Tresham will ridicule it 
 himself. I cannot tell you half the diiferent 
 modes of amusement he has tried, every one 
 more short-hved than the last. At one time he 
 had a musical mania, which almost di'ove me 
 distracted. Then he cared for nothing but the 
 turf, and we had to go to races, and have those 
 horrid betting men to dinner; only, fortunatelv, 
 he lost immensely, and that ciu-ed him. Xow 
 the election is the reigning folly — to-morrow it 
 may possibly be the working of a tin-mine. I 
 wish he would settle down to one thing that 
 might amuse him, and make him stay quietly 
 at St. Austin's, where we might be so com- 
 fortable." 
 
 " If such is your desii-e, why do you not en- 
 courage him to take part in what is passing
 
 284 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 around him ? and why do you not endeavour to 
 render the interest and excitement he now feels, 
 more than a momentary caprice?" 
 
 "My dear, what can you mean?" interrupted 
 her amazed auditor. " How is it possible that I 
 can render dull country business pleasant, or 
 make such a creature of impulse as Tresham like 
 it after its novelty is past?" 
 
 " You can do a great deal, if you really wish 
 it, — you can, at least, appear willing to interest 
 yourself, and participate in his pursuits, as far 
 as you are able ; at all events, you need not 
 always side with Mr. Stanley in the condemna- 
 tion and ridicule of his exertions, by which I 
 can assure you you have often unintentionally 
 wounded the feelings of Mr. Tresham, at a time 
 when you might have aided his resolution of 
 adopting a more settled course of life, and ren- 
 dering his stay in Cornwall more agreeable to 
 himself, and beneficial to the neighbourhood." 
 
 Mrs. Tresham was silent for a few moments, 
 and Mehcent's arguments appeared not to be
 
 MAX A^-ENTTTORTH. 285 
 
 without effect. " I am siu-e I did not in the 
 least think that Tresham ever noticed what I 
 said about the election," she at length re- 
 sumed ; " but you are perfectly right in all you 
 say, and I only wish I were not so helpless, and 
 could tell what to do about Stanley !" 
 
 " If you are really tired of inaction/' said 
 Mehcent, " you have now a most laudable occa- 
 sion for exertion. Speak to Mr. Stanley openly 
 and decidedly, since the coldness of yoiu* man- 
 ner is not sufficient to check his presumption; — 
 tell him how highly you disapprove of his con- 
 duct, how displeasing it is to you;— and, were I 
 in your place, I should certainly give him a very 
 plain intimation, that his visit at St. Austin's 
 had already been of sufficiently long dui'ation." 
 
 " Heavens, Mehcent ! How should I ever say 
 all this to Stanley ? — I should be certain to make 
 myself ridiculous in some way. Xow, if you 
 would be persuaded to speak to him for me, you 
 would do it so nicely, that I should be quite 
 sure of scettinsr out of all my difficid-ties ; while
 
 286 MAX WENTWORTH. 
 
 I, on the contrary, should only make things 
 worse, because it is so entirely out of my way. " 
 
 " It certainly would be more out of mine/' 
 replied Melicent ; " nor can I suppose you se- 
 riously to wish to assign to me so unbecoming a 
 part. You must be aware hoy/ very improper 
 how utterly impossible would be my interference 
 with Mr. Stanley on such a subject." 
 
 " Oh, it certainly would be very awkward for 
 you, Melicent ; but then, what is to become of 
 me ? — the man will talk so fast, and so well, that 
 I shall never be able to get in a word." 
 
 "1 cannot imagine that many will be required; 
 of course, the slightest intimation from you will 
 be enough to make Mr. Stanley leave a place 
 where his presence is not desired ; and all dan- 
 ger will then be over of a quarrel between him 
 and Mr. Tresham, which, if he remains here, 
 and persists in his late conduct, is, in my 
 opinion, inevitable." 
 
 " I do not quite agree with you, Melicent ; 
 Tresham is so accustomed to consider me as a
 
 MAX WENT WORTH. 287 
 
 kind of person to dawdle through existence, 
 without feeling or creating emotion of any sort, 
 that to be jealous would be the last thing in the 
 world that would occiu' to him. It, does sound 
 so very ridiculous for me to be talking about 
 Jove and jealousy ! I wish Stanley had been 
 wise enough to fall in love "s^ith you or Isabel, 
 if he wanted something to do ; and then you 
 could have refused him quietly and properly, 
 without being troublesome to any one, as I am 
 now to you. However, you have convinced me 
 of what is right to be done, and after we have 
 got rid of this tiresome Stanley, I reaUy will 
 try to follow your advice. How I wish I were 
 like you !" 
 
 Delighted Tvith her evening's performance, 
 Melicent bade her friend good night ; resohing, 
 if possible, not to allow her good intention to 
 subside, and trusting that in time she might be 
 aroused from her inertness of body and mind, to 
 make her home more agreeable to her husband, 
 and herself a happier, and more usefid cha-
 
 288 MAX wENTwonrH. 
 
 racter, tlian she could possibly be esteemed 
 while the many amiable qualities of her dis- 
 position continued to be obscured by her habits 
 of languid indolence. 
 
 END or VOL. I. 
 
 Printed bv Bi.atch & Lampert, Grove Place, Brompton.