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RAR^eOOKROOM 
 
A YEAR 
 
 HARTLEBURY 
 
 THE ELECTION. 
 
 CHERRY AND FAIR STAR. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET 
 
 1834 
 
B. BENSLKY, PRINTI 
 

 V) 
 
 I- 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Our honeymoon being over, we have 
 amused ourselves during the autumn by 
 writing a novel. All we hope is thsft 
 the Public will deem our literary union 
 as felicitous as we find our personal one. 
 
CONTENTS OF VOL. I 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 page 
 
 A village. The Parsonage and the Manor-House, 
 and their inhabitants 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A neighbour 8 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 A very fine castle, but seen only at a distance . 13 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Almshouses. The Village Schoolmistress. A 
 political dialogue 23 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 A very early morning visitor. News ! .... 34 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Arrival of George Gainsborough 45 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Fresh arrivals. The Boscawen family .... 56 
 
VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Pic-Nic in Bohun Park page 70 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Reflections which it creates in the minds of several 
 of the party 93 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Gainsboroughs give a dinner 100 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 A death-bed scene 123 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 In which is announced most unexpected intelli- 
 gence 150 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 The unexpected intelligence proves true . . . 161 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 The owner of the Castle 16-1 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Mr. George Gainsborough's bad memory . . . 174 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Which he endeavours to refresh . . .182 
 
CONTENTS. VU 
 
 CHAPTER XML 
 
 page 
 Mr. Bohun is visited by his relations. A fine lady 
 
 and a most gentlemanlike fellow 192 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. 
 
 Increased intimacy between the Castle and 
 the Hall 204 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The Gentlemen return from Quarter Sessions . 215 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mr. Bohun surprises Mr. Chace and every body 
 else, including the reader 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A friendly dinner party at the Castle .... 242 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 Amatory, Political^ and Mysterious 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 Amatory only 275 
 
YEAR AT HARTLEBURY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A VILLAGE. 
 
 THE PARSONAGE AND THE MANOR-HOUSE, 
 
 AND THEIR INHABITANTS. 
 
 Gentle reader, wander with us awhile, along 
 the banks of this tranquil river, as it winds 
 its course through this verdant valley, and 
 we will show you a fair scene. 
 
 Behold a rural green, encircled by cottages, 
 and embosomed in wood-crowned hills. Each 
 humble dwelling stan<.ls in the midst of a gar- 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
 i 
 
Z AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 den rich in vegetable store, and gay with the 
 many-colored tulip, and the golden crocus, and 
 its slanting thatch is covered with the fragrant 
 honeysuckle. It is the month of May, the air 
 is filled with sweet odour and wild music. 
 Hark ! the clear note of the blithe Cuckoo, 
 and ever and anon from yonder rich stack yard 
 which surrounds that substantial looking farm- 
 house many a cheerful sound breaks on the ear. 
 The green gradually ascends the side of the 
 narrow valley, and, on the right on a sloping 
 lawn, gay with laburnums, lilacs, and syringa, 
 stands a low irregularly built house with gable 
 ends and tall chimnies. It is the Parsonage ; 
 its porch is covered with ivy, and its large 
 projecting windows are clustered with the bril- 
 liant scarlet flowers of the Pyrus japonica. 
 On the lawn, and separated from the garden only 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 3 
 
 by a light iron fence, stands a very small church 
 mantled with ivy. It is sheltered from the 
 North by a rich dark plantation of firs and yews, 
 while around are scattered the humble but 
 neat graves of the peaceful villagers. A road 
 winds round the upland green to the wide 
 srates of the mansion-house, an ancient Eliza- 
 bethan Hall. 
 
 Such is the village of Hartlebury, where the 
 Molesworths have been lords of the soil for 
 many centuries. On the whole, they have been 
 faithful stewards, and this fair spot has suffered 
 little in the lapse of ages from extortionate 
 proprietors, or tasteless improvers. 
 
 The present possessor succeeded early in life 
 to the estate, and as he is a man of very cul- 
 tivated mind, his taste as well as his feelino- of 
 what is right, has induced him to a constant 
 
 B 2 
 
** AUBREY BOHLN. 
 
 residence among those who are dependent on 
 him. He is of a mild and tolerant temper, and 
 if he possesses a few inherited prejudices they 
 hang gracefully upon him. For many years he 
 enjoyed that rare felicity, a congenial and sym- 
 pathising companion, but the same year had 
 deprived him of a beloved wife, and an only 
 son. Yet he was not alone in the world ; a 
 fair young child was by his side, who, each 
 succeeding year, became more worthy of all his 
 love. To cultivate her affections, and to store 
 her mind with knowledge became the pleasant 
 occupation of his life, and in her warm de- 
 voted love he reaped a rich reward. Helen 
 Molesworth had now reached her nineteenth 
 year, — beautiful, affectionate and gay, — she 
 knew little of our evil passions but from books, 
 while she lived in the [practice of a thousand 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. O 
 
 virtues, enjoying the sweetest of Heaven's gifts, 
 the power of doing good to others. 
 
 The mhabitants of the Rectory were her 
 dearest friends, and her chief companions 
 The two families had been ever united in t\m 
 strictest bonds of friendship, each loving in the 
 other the virtues in which they themselves ex- 
 celled. Mr. Latimer, who had been for thirty 
 years the faithful pastor of Hartlebury, was 
 a near relative of the Molesworth family, and 
 had been from early life the favourite friend of 
 the Squire. While to his amiable, sensible wife 
 and his two children Helen had been always 
 the object of the tenderest affection. But 
 within the last three years great changes had 
 taken place in this small circle. Charlotte 
 Latimer had married, and Mr. Latimer had 
 died, and Mrs. Latimer was 'gone too, for though 
 
6 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 she professed to divide her time between her 
 children, she was so often called for by her 
 daughter, was so useful as a nurse, and so 
 valued as an adviser, that she had little time 
 to give to her son's uneventful establish- 
 ment. 
 
 Arthur Latimer succeeded to his father's 
 duties. It was with a holy feeling he sought 
 the same peaceful path of Christian usefulness. 
 He loved Hartlebury, and all connected with it, 
 and at Hartlebury he was enthusiastically be- 
 loved. Ever the active friend of the unhappy, 
 the eloquent messenger of grace to fallen 
 man, he aroused the slumbering, he re-ani- 
 mated the desponding, his piety was without 
 fanaticism, as his charity was universal. 
 With all these virtues, and the additional re- 
 commendations of being handsome and ac- 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 7 
 
 complished , in the world lie was not popular, 
 for he was reserved, and unbending, and had 
 some awkward notions which if generally acted 
 upon would destroy the pleasures of society. In 
 proportion as people were rich and educated so 
 he thought they ought to be virtuous and religi- 
 ous, and he was loth to condemn that as a 
 crime in the poor and ignorant, which was re- 
 garded but as an innocent frailty in the wealthy 
 and the well-informed. Where much was 
 given, much, he believed, would be required. 
 An old fashioned doctrine. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 A NEIGHBOUR. 
 
 Within the last six years a new mansion had 
 risen in the parish of Hartlebury. A Mr. 
 Gainsborough purchased a large farm, which 
 was quickly converted into a modern Gothic 
 tenement of most ancient appearance bearing 
 the euphonious title of Oakfield Lodge. The 
 fields soon became paddocks, already the pad- 
 docks emulated a park. Mr. Gainsborough 
 
AUBREY BOHUN* 9 
 
 was a man of humble origin who, by unwearied 
 industry and good fortune had amassed iu 
 trade what is styled a very handsome property. 
 He was an honest man, with an exact, precise 
 mind. He took kindly to his new mode of life, 
 busied himself with his plantations, and rode 
 three times in the week to the neip-hbourino; 
 town. He became a great politician, read 
 every paper with maps by his side, and all the 
 articles on foreign policy in the Edinburgli 
 and Quarterly Reviews. He began to have a 
 tolerably exact idea of the Turkish Empire ju<t 
 when it was on the point of being dismembered, 
 and could put his linger without a moment's 
 hesitation, on the situation of Egypt. He was 
 astonished, not at his past ignorance, but at his 
 present infinite knowledge, and, believing th it 
 every body had the same want of it, he became 
 
 B 5 
 
10 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 rather too fond of enlightening others. His 
 wife was one of those quiet insipid women who 
 can be equally happy anywhere. Not because 
 they have tastes and resources for all situations, 
 but simply because they are totally devoid of 
 any. 
 
 Their family consisted of three daughters 
 and an only son. The two youngest Miss 
 Gainsboroughs had lately married. One was 
 the wife of a clergyman in the neighbourhood, 
 the other of a young naval officer whom his good 
 genius had induced to take a cottage in the 
 vicinity of Oakfield for the united purpose of 
 fishing and sentimentalizing. The eldest sister 
 was still unmarried, and fast approaching a 
 certain age. She was not very intellectual or 
 very refined, but active and good-natured. 
 
 The son, George Gainsborough, had been 
 
AUBREY BOHUN, H 
 
 for some time away. He had been originally 
 intended for the church, but he soon manifested 
 so little regard for his own conduct that it 
 would not do to entinist him with the direction 
 of that of others. Many wild scrapes and 
 family discussions terminated in his going 
 abroad. He had travelled over Germany and 
 Italy, had visited Constantinople, and had 
 finally taken an active part in favour of the 
 Greeks. 
 
 In this country where the art most sedu- 
 lously fostered is the art of making a connec- 
 tion, numerous" are the established means of 
 arriving at the great result. A public school, 
 a crack college, the turf if you are rich, are 
 all good in their way,— but to travel on the 
 continent is a highly esteemed mode. 
 
 If such Ti^ere the desire of George Gains- 
 
12 AUBREY BOHTJN. 
 
 borough, he appeared eminently successful, 
 his letters, whenever they did arrive, bore ample 
 testimony to his aristocratic acquaintance, and 
 most satisfactorily proved to all the members 
 of his family that he was a very great man 
 indeed. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A VERY FINE CASTLE, BUT SEEN ONLY 
 AT A DISTANCE. 
 
 It was a delightful May morning. The sun 
 shone brightly, and an agreeable breeze bear- 
 ing fresh and charming perfume tempered its 
 warmth. Helen Molesworth threw up the 
 window, and stepped out upon the lawn. She 
 turned with exquisite delight to the charming 
 scene around her. The old Hall stood on a 
 lawn gently sloping to the massy iron gates 
 
14 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 which opened into the village. Its heavy over- 
 hanging gables, richly adorned with coats of 
 arms, its long line of projecting windows, 
 between each of which, in a deep niche, stood 
 a statue, made a fine contrast over the face of 
 the building of brilliant light and rich deep 
 shadow, and all surrounded by trees in their 
 new dress of various green : the golden wreaths 
 of the labunium just bursting into bloom, the 
 purple spikes of the lilac, the ivory syringa, 
 the sweet-scented may, the delicate acaccia, 
 and, above all, the magnificent chesnut throw- 
 ing up its pyramidal flowers over the heads of 
 all the rest. Gay as the birds above her head, 
 who filled the air with their wild carols of 
 pleasure, Helen flew along the terrace to her 
 flower-garden. As she gazed upon the varie- 
 gated parterres, the rare tulips and brilliant 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 15 
 
 anemones, she could have exclaimed with 
 Wordsworth, 
 
 " And 'tis my faith that every flower 
 Enjoys the air it breathes." 
 
 Arthur Latimer rode up the green, and 
 stopped at the iron gates. She ran to speak 
 to him. 
 
 " Helen," he said, " this surely is a morn- 
 ing for a canter, are you not going to ride ?" 
 
 " If you will ride with me, but Papa is 
 busy with Baker, and I would rather stay at 
 home this beautiful day, than have no more 
 sympathising companion than old John." 
 
 " I am quite at your service to talk, to listen, 
 or to be silent, whichever may be your mood. 
 1 will ride round and order your horse, if you 
 will prepare." 
 
 Miss Molesworth was soon equipped. 
 
16 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 "Helen," said Mr. Latimer as he assisted 
 her to mount, " you must so contrive your ride 
 that we pass Whitby's cottage, for I have 
 just remembered that I have a message for 
 him. After having declared myself entirely at 
 your service, it is most ungallant to dictate to 
 you. 
 
 " But that will give me my favorite ride, 
 so I forgive you. We can go round at the foot 
 of the Castle into that long green lane, which 
 falls into the road just by his cottage." 
 
 Their course lay through rich woods which 
 gradually ascended the side of a steep hill. 
 Suddenly the woods terminated in an open 
 down. Bohun Castle, with its donjon keep, 
 and its turreted towers, was still above them, 
 but they looked down upon the ancient woods 
 and the beautiful river, which wound through 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 17 
 
 the landscape at their feet, ever and anon re- 
 vealing itself by its silvery light as it wandered 
 through the woodland glades. 
 
 " How beautiful," exclaimed Helen, *' I never 
 look upon this view but I discover some new 
 beauty, some hitherto undiscovered point. How 
 sad it is to think that while we enjoy it at 
 our pleasure, the master of all never gazes 
 upon it !" 
 
 ** Do not pity him, Helen ; he cannot deserve 
 it Why is he not here V* 
 
 " Ah ! why is he not here ? I never see 
 this magnificent place without asking that 
 question. He must be a very extraordinary 
 man." 
 
 '* He certainly is a most ungrateful one. 
 With all his abundance of blessings, with the 
 power of doing so much good, Lord here almost 
 
18 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 of a principality, he makes but little increase 
 of the talents committed to his care." 
 
 "He is very fortunate to have so good an 
 agent as Mr. Chase." 
 
 " Yes, Chase is an intelligent man, and a 
 most active magistrate. I do not often know 
 what we should do without him, and what is 
 better he is, I believe, an honest man. The 
 people are not oppressed, and the estate flou- 
 rishes, but there is something Helen which 
 an agent cannot do.'* 
 
 " And I am sure poor Mr. Lowndes' con- 
 fused head cannot assist him. Now if they 
 had a clergyman like you Arthur." 
 
 " I do not know that I should do better than 
 he does," said Mr. Latimer smiling. " We can 
 do a great deal, but we cannot do every thing. 
 We want assistance. It is the sympathy of the 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 19 
 
 landlord which above all things elevates the 
 moral feelings of his poorer neighbours. In 
 showing them affection, and in exciting theirs, 
 you make them feel that we have all alike 
 immortal souls, and that the accidents of for- 
 tune are but adventitious. Believe me, dear 
 Helen, when your feeling heart sympathises 
 with your poor friends at Haitlebury, you do 
 far more than a temporary good. My precepts 
 would lose much of their efficacy without so 
 fair a practise." 
 
 He spoke with a warmth in which he rarely 
 indulged: Helen could not reply. They rode 
 on in silence. After a few minutes he said : 
 
 " And here there is not only the want of 
 all this sympathy, but something worse. It is 
 not a mere question, whether a man prefer one 
 country to another, but here is a mystery, a 
 
20 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 concealment, Avhich can only induce those to 
 believe, who think at all, that there is some- 
 thing disgraceful, something which cannot 
 bear the light.*' 
 
 Mr. Latimer's censures were but too well 
 deserved. Aubrey Bohun the descendant of 
 a long line of illustrious ancestry was un- 
 known and unregarded amidst his wide pos- 
 sessions. His father had died an early and 
 sudden death soon after his birth, and his 
 mother immediately left the Castle, and never 
 afterwards returned to it. She was a woman 
 of violent passions, who had been forced into a 
 distasteful marriage. She hated the name of 
 Bohun and detested the Castle, the scene of 
 her wedded life, and she exerted all her in- 
 fluence to implant in the growing character 
 of her son, her prejudices and passions. Her 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 21 
 
 extreme beauty, her elevated rank, and above 
 all, ber influence over tbe beir to tbirty thou- 
 sand a year, placed ber amongst tbe most dis- 
 tinguisbed in tbe gay world. For many years 
 tbe name of Lady Alice Bobun was the most 
 eminent among tbe few wbo rule tbe many. 
 It is rarely tbat tbe cup of pleasure is in vain 
 presented to a youtb. Handsome and bead- 
 strong, Aubrey Bohun seized it witb avidity, 
 and drained it to tbe lees, and just before be 
 attained bis majority, an acbing head and a dis- 
 satisfied heart sent him to other countries, to 
 seek tbat health and happiness he had wasted 
 in bis own. 
 
 It was now nearly ten years since the bon- 
 fires had blazed at Bohun Castle to celebrate 
 bis twenty-first birth day, but be had never 
 returned. His mother had died, and her name 
 
22 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 had faded away among the gay crowds she had 
 adorned,— for the gay have only time to think 
 of those who amuse them. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ALMS-HOUSES.— THE VILLAGE SCHOOL- 
 MISTRESS.— A POLITICAL DIALOGUE. 
 
 In a green lane which turned from the village 
 by the side of the rectory-garden, on a grassy 
 plot surrounded by a gravelled walk bordered 
 with mignonette, stood a row of neat buildings. 
 They were almshouses, which a wealthy spin- 
 ster of the house of Molesworth had gratified 
 her benevolent feelings in erecting for the aged 
 of the parish. 
 
24 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 Each abode had an allotted portion of 
 garden-ground, which the most active of the 
 inhabitants amused themselves in tending ; but 
 in general they were indebted to some good- 
 natured son, or some lusty grand-child, who 
 would spare a leisure hour to its cultivation. 
 Often times might you see a gardener from the 
 hall or the rectory bearing some young plants, 
 or some promised seed. 
 
 These almshouses were Helen's favourite 
 resort. Here she took many lessons, not only 
 in the mysteries of knitting but in the know- 
 ledge of cheerfulness and the art of content ; 
 here she learnt how a firm belief in a heavenly 
 life cheers the close of an earthly one, though 
 it may have consisted only of a youth of labour 
 and an old age of suffering. Not that we wish 
 to represent the inhabitants of Hartlebury as 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 25 
 
 an exception to all human infirmities ; there 
 were some discontented among the aged, and 
 not a few idle among the young, but on the 
 whole, they displayed all the advantages which 
 thirty years of sympathy had procured for 
 them. 
 
 In a pretty green mead adjoining these 
 almshouses, Mr. Molesworth and his daughter 
 were now busily employed in the erection of a 
 school-house. To build a school-house in this 
 green mead had been one of Helen's first 
 fancies. Many a subsequent project remark- 
 able for its ingenuity, she had been obliged to 
 yield to her father's gentle raillery, but this 
 plan he had always seconded, for he liked 
 building Gothic cottages, but certain diflaculties 
 had hitherto delayed it. 
 
 From time immemorial Dame Harrald had 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
26 AUBREY EOHUN. 
 
 been the ruler of the village intellect ; but she 
 could only teach in her own cottage, and after 
 her own fashion, and while she remained in 
 office, any change in the school or its discipline 
 was impossible. Dame Harrald was a sharp 
 shrewd woman, with strong sense and native 
 wit : she had educated three generations of the 
 villagers, and those who had once been her 
 scholars never ceased to be her subjects. They 
 consulted her on all occasions, for she cured 
 all evils bodily as well as mental, and she 
 deserved their confidence, for she gave on 
 the whole very good advice, and never told a 
 secret. 
 
 But at last even Dame Harrald began to 
 grow old ; she became not a little deaf, and the 
 eagle glance of olden days was dimmed. Her 
 scholars detected her infirmities, and the dame. 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 27 
 
 discovering incipient anarchy, she abdicated, 
 retiring, like greater folks, to her cabbages. 
 
 It was an electrifying stroke to the village ; 
 — Dame Harrald in the almshouses ; — a new 
 school-mistress, — and a new school-house. — 
 Centuries had not produced such great events. 
 
 The building was now rapidly rising, and 
 was a daily object of interest to the squire and 
 Helen. One morning as accompanied by 
 Mr. Latimer they were busied in an important 
 consultation with Smith the carpenter, who 
 was at, what he styled when he was puzzled, 
 a stand-still, Mr. Gainsborough approached. 
 
 " Now," said Helen, with a gentle sigh, 
 "this will never be settled to-day." 
 
 *'Ah! Miss Molesworth, " said the old 
 gentleman, as he joined them, " I thought I 
 should find you here : how do ye do my good 
 
 c 2 
 
28 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 Sir ? Mr. Latimer too all in deep consulta- 
 tion, I suppose. Bless me ! how you get on 
 here ! " continued the old gentleman. *' Amaz- 
 ing ! Miss Molesworth ; but you are so 
 clever." 
 
 " You are very complimentary Mr. Gains- 
 borough," said Helen smiling, *' but I do not 
 deserve any credit on this occasion. Papa and 
 Mr. Smith must, I am afraid, have all the 
 merit of our progress." 
 
 " Indeed, eh ! we all know what taste Mr. 
 Molesworth has. I assure you, Fanny takes 
 the greatest interest in your school, and will be 
 very happy to help you to teach." 
 
 Mr. Gainsborough thought he had now said 
 all that politeness required, so he turned 
 towards Mr. Molesworth, with a most argu- 
 mentative look. Helen interposed with en- 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 29 
 
 quiries concerning Mrs. and Miss Gainsbo- 
 rough. 
 
 **They were pretty well when I left this 
 morning, but I have not seen them these four 
 hours, and you know Miss Molesworth it is 
 impossible to answer for you ladies for so long 
 a time," said the old gentleman, with a chuckle 
 at his own wit. 
 
 He returned to the attack. 
 
 " Great news to-day from Portugal Sir." 
 
 Mr. Molesworth sunk resigned on a car- 
 penter's bench. 
 
 " Will he be able to maintain himself, 
 that is the point, eh 1 " continued Mr. Gains- 
 borough. 
 
 " Do the people care a rush about him ? 
 I think that is the point," responded Mr: 
 Molesworth. 
 
30 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 " They would, if they were not priest- 
 ridden," replied Mr. Gainsborough. 
 
 "What do you mean by priest-ridden?" 
 enquired Mr. Molesworth very calmly. 
 
 " My dear Sir," replied Mr. Gainsborough, 
 who was not a definer, " every one knows that 
 Portugal is the most priest-ridden country in 
 the world, except Spain." 
 
 "And do you think you can emancipate 
 their minds," said Mr. Molesworth, who never 
 pressed his neighbour, *' by hiring men at 
 Wapping to cut their throats 1" 
 
 " I should think that the middle class 
 must secretly approve of it," said Mr. Gains- 
 borough musingly. 
 
 " Of having their throats cut ? " enquired 
 Mr. Molesworth. 
 
 " No, of the expedition," replied Mr. 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 31 
 
 Gainsborough. "It is the middle class of all 
 countries who are the great supporters of liberal 
 principles. I told them so in the town-hall 
 the other day. ' It is you,' I said, addressing 
 them, * you gentlemen, the great enlightened 
 middle class, to whom we look for the sal- 
 vation of the country.' I was speaking against 
 the new toll. They cheered me amazingly." 
 
 *' The middle class had better mind their 
 business," said Mr. MoleswOrth. 
 
 *' How many miles is it, Mr. Molesworth, 
 from Oporto to Lisbon ? I wonder if there be 
 any fortified towns in the way. What think 
 you of Coimbra? Could they make a stand 
 at Coimbra, think you, eh ? We live in won- 
 derful times — wonderful times. What will it 
 all end in? Good, my dear Sir, good — good," 
 continued Mr. Gainsborough, musingly. '* Libe- 
 
32 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 ral principles must be beneficial in the long 
 run. There is no withstanding it, that is the 
 truth : such is the march of mind in the 
 present day, that you can hood -wink the 
 people no longer. And though the people 
 are not so ready as we were led to expect, 
 still this business of Portugal must end in 
 good." 
 
 " It will end in the rise of Port wine, I 
 foresee," said Mr. Molesworth. 
 
 " Do you think so, eh?" eagerly enquired 
 Mr. Gainsborough. " I am just thinking of 
 buying a pipe." 
 
 "Then, my good friend, ^lose no time," 
 said Mr. Molesworth, "for you may depend 
 upon it, that liberal principles always end in 
 an attack upon the purse. 
 
 Mr. Gainsborough though a liberal, had 
 
AUBREY BOHUN 33 
 
 a great opinion of Mr. Molesworth's sense, 
 and looked a little alarmed, but he soon rallied 
 and walked away to look out Coimbra in the 
 Gazetteer. 
 
 c a 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 A VERY EARLY MORNING VISITOR. 
 
 NEWS! 
 
 One morning, very early for a morning visit, 
 even a country morning visit, a morning visitor 
 was however announced ; and Mrs. Escott 
 entered the room. 
 
 She was an ancient maiden lady who resided 
 in the neighbouring town of Fanchester. She 
 was the last of a family who traced its descent 
 from the Conquest, and who had grown older 
 
AUBREY BOH UN. 35 
 
 and poorer in corresponding proportions. The 
 Escotts had originally possessed considerable 
 property in the neighbourhood, which had 
 gradually past into other hands, and Mrs. 
 Escott's father had at last sunk down into an 
 old-fashioned house in the town, where she still 
 resided. In every generation the Escotts had 
 visited all the neighbouring families, and Mrs. 
 Escott strenuously preserved this feature of 
 her superiority over the chief inhabitants of 
 the town, whose industry made them richer 
 every year, and whose good sense restrained 
 them from seeking an intimacy uncongenial 
 to their habits and injurious to their pursuits. 
 
 Every year Mrs. Escott regularly went 
 through her round of visits, and she willingly 
 paid the tax of an occasional pair of post horses 
 to her antiquated chariot, to maintain her name 
 
36 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 among the families of the county. She com- 
 forted herself for her extravagance by the feel- 
 ing that they would be hurt at her neglect. 
 She was a good-natured woman, sometimes a 
 little irritable, and always a little curious, but 
 as fond of communicating as of acquiring in- 
 formation. 
 
 This day her small grey eyes twinkled with 
 unusual complacency, as she returned Miss 
 Molesworth's salutations. 
 
 *' Thank you, my dear, I am very well, 
 this summer brightens me up, a few twitches 
 every winter, but nothing* now. How is your 
 good father? I hope he fares well.'* 
 
 " Papa is quite well. He has ridden out 
 this morning, but I hope he will soon be back, 
 for I am sure he would be sorry to miss 
 seeing you," said Helen courteously. " You 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 37 
 
 must have had a delightful ride this beautiful 
 day." 
 
 They talked much of the weather, how 
 long it had been fine, how long it would con- 
 tinue so, but at length Mrs. Escott could no 
 longer conceal her superior knowledge. 
 
 " Have you heard the Hartlebury news yet, 
 Miss Molesworth? No, it is impossible, now 
 I think of it, that it can have reached you," 
 said the old lady fully confident of her priority 
 of information. 
 
 " No indeed, what can have happened at 
 Hartlebuiy V 
 
 Well, my dear, you may depend on my 
 news, it is quite true. I was at the Gains- 
 boroughs, for I always make it a point you 
 know to call there, they would be hurt if they 
 were neglected, they don't feel, of course, like 
 
38 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 you or I, they would fancy themselves slighted, 
 I always make it a point to call. Well, while 
 I was there, the express arrived." 
 
 " What express?" enquired Helen, rather 
 puzzled. 
 
 ** I think it was from London, no, I am not 
 sure, I believe it was from Falmouth, where 
 he had just landed ; however it is not of much 
 consequence where it come from, for it said by 
 the time they got it, that George Gainsborough 
 would be in London." 
 
 " That is indeed news," said Helen rewarded 
 at last for her persevering politeness, " his 
 father and mother must be very delighted." 
 
 " Yes indeed I must say, they appeared 
 very happy. At first, it seemed that Mr. 
 Gainsborough would go to London to meet 
 him, and then Mrs. Gainsborough seemed to 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 39 
 
 think that would make it so much longer 
 before she saw him, so at last it was settled 
 that Mr. Gainsborough should only write him 
 a letter. I told them I should tell you all 
 about it, and they sent their compliments." 
 
 Helen smiled as she pictured to herself how 
 much Mrs. Escott must have been in the way, 
 in all this family rejoicing, and consultation. 
 
 " Mr. George Gainsborough has been a 
 long time away 1 I think ever since his father 
 has lived here ; at least, I believe, he never 
 was here." 
 
 ** No 1 just heard Mr. Gainsborough say 
 he never had seen Oakfield, and a very pretty 
 place they have made of it. I dare say the 
 young man will be quite charmed. A very 
 pleasant chatty man is old Mr. Gainsborough ; 
 he often calls on me, he tells me all the news, 
 
40 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 and brings all his son's letters to read to me, 
 very handsome of him isn't it, and very clever 
 letters they are, I make no doubt he is a 
 monstrous clever young man." 
 
 The servant entered with refreshments, the 
 merits of the Gainsboroughs died away, drowned 
 in the wine and cake. 
 
 *' So I hear that Mrs. Latimer is not here. 
 
 I felt quite sure she would have come back by 
 this time," said the old lady when she finished 
 her last glass of wine. She spoke in a tone of 
 resentment as she thought that it would be 
 necessary to make another excursion to call 
 on her. 
 
 *' Charlotte has not been well and could 
 not bear to lose her mother," observed Helen 
 in an apologetic tone. " I do not think she 
 will be here for a month yet." 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 41 
 
 " Mrs. Boscawen is very fond of her mother, 
 and I am sure she ought to be, she has a family 
 so fast! I do not know what she would do 
 without her. She puts me just in mind of my 
 old friend Nancy Goldby, Mrs. Boscawen will 
 have just such another family. I remember 
 calling on her once, and seeing eight under 
 eight years old. Bless me I do not know how 
 she managed them all. But she had always 
 great spirits. I am sure it would have killed 
 me. I have lost sight of them of late, but I 
 believe all the eight children lived to be 
 married, no,— let me see, 1 think Rose the 
 third, never married, no, certainly she did 
 not, there was a something, but she did not 
 marry." 
 
 At this point of Mrs. Escott's reminiscences 
 Arthur Latimer entered the room. 
 
42 AUBREY BOHtJl^* 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Latimer/' she continued, " I 
 am very glad to see you, I was just enquiring 
 after your good mother. I shall certainly pay 
 her a visit directly she comes back. I have 
 been telling Miss Molesworth a great piece of 
 news. You see, I come to Hartlebury to pay 
 a visit, and I know more about its concerns 
 than either of you." 
 
 " What is your piece of news'?'' enquired 
 Mr. Latimer. " 1 am almost afraid that I 
 already know it. Is it that Mr. George Gains- 
 borough has arrived ?" 
 
 Mrs. Escott was evidently annoyed. Helen 
 enquired how he came to be so early in his 
 intelligence. 
 
 *' I just met Mr. Gainsborough on his way 
 to catch the mail to London." 
 
 " Dear me, that is very odd," and the 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 43 
 
 old lady bridled up, "when I left them, 1 
 am sure it was quite settled that he should 
 not go." 
 
 Helen began to talk of other things, an- 
 xious to cover Arthur Latimer's perversity, 
 and Mr. Gainsborough's delinquency. 
 
 At last her visitor rose, " I believe I 
 must ring for my carriage, my dear. I 
 must not wait any longer for the chance 
 of seeing my good friend Mr. Molesworth. 
 You must give my compliments to him, 
 and tell him how sorry I am to have missed 
 him." 
 
 " How pretty you look here," she observed 
 to Mr. Latimer as he handed her to her car- 
 rage. " When we lived on the opposite side 
 of the valley, that was before your time, (Mrs. 
 Escott referred to about fifty years since), I 
 
44 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 always used to say that there was nothing so 
 pretty as looking down upon Hartlebury so 
 snug, and so comfortable." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ARRIVAL OF GEORGE GAINSBOROUGH. 
 
 In a week George Gainsborough was at Hartle- 
 bury ; in a few days more he had paid a visit 
 at the Hall. He drove over with his mother 
 and sister. Mrs. Gainsborough received with 
 quiescent gratitude Helen's congratulations. 
 She was sure she was very happy that he had 
 come back, she did not think she should have 
 known him, he seemed so grown, and his hair 
 was so different. 
 
46 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 This personal critique was evidently not 
 agreeable to the hero of it, he was anxious 
 that Miss Molesworth should think that he had 
 been always as handsome and as captivating as 
 he now stood before her, six feet high, with a 
 fine expansive padded chest, an abundance of 
 golden hair, which no one dared to insinuate 
 was inclined to carrotty, and the most delicate 
 moustachios. 
 
 " I hope you like Hartlebury," said Helen, 
 with the polite intention of changing the sub- 
 ject of conversation. 
 
 " I think it charming, I never mean to 
 leave it again." 
 
 "Oh! George how can you say so," said 
 his mother, " I am sure you will never stay 
 here." 
 
 " I assure you," interposed Fanny Gains- 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 47 
 
 borough, *' he admires it excessively, though I 
 told him till he had seen the Hall, he had not 
 seen half our beauty." 
 
 «' I feel that now," said George Gains- 
 borough with a bow. 
 
 " I am glad that you like the place," re- 
 plied Helen : " for myself, I think every 
 thing about it charming, but I am afraid 
 you will find one sad want, the want of 
 society." 
 
 " Excuse me," observed Mr. George Gains- 
 borough. "I must difi'er with you there; I 
 should think, among all the delightful things 
 at Hartlebury, the most delightful was the 
 society." 
 
 " No, no," said Helen, '* however polite 
 you may intend to be, I fear you will too soon 
 discover that there is no society." 
 
48 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 " I hate society," observed Mr. George Gains- 
 borough. 
 
 " I am sure you used, George, to like com- 
 pany more than any body," said Mrs. Gains- 
 borough. 
 
 ** Well, Mrs. Gainsborough, he can soon 
 prove his sincerity here, you know," said Miss 
 Molesworth, " when he has exhausted all our 
 resources, there are plenty of woods, and soli- 
 tary hills, in which he may cultivate his love 
 of solitude. You have not yet taken any rides 
 through our green lanes ? " continued Helen, 
 addressing George Gainsborough. 
 
 " Yesterday I had a beautiful ride with my 
 father to Bohun Castle, a fine feudal looking 
 place. The owner never resides there, I think 
 I heard ? " 
 
 *' No, never, he lives entirely abroad." 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 49 
 
 " What sort of a man is he 1 '* 
 
 "That no one can tell you, for no one 
 knows, do they Miss Gainsborough V 
 
 *' But is he old or young?" 
 
 " Young, decidedly young. We all know 
 he must be young, and we suspect he must b e 
 handsome, for as the Housekeeper invariably 
 informs us all the Bohuns are handsome." 
 
 "Positively young, and hypothetically 
 handsome — > I think that is knowing a great 
 deal about a man. " 
 
 " You must go to the Castle, there is a 
 capital gallery of pictures." 
 
 '* I have seen so many pictures.*' 
 
 " And these are principally portraits, so 
 perhaps you would not care for them, but you 
 would'nt fail to admire the Park, the Park is 
 delightful, a fine combination of the richest 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
60 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 cultivation, and the wildest scenery. There is 
 a most romantic green dell with the tallest 
 trees, and the softest turf, just made for a Wat- 
 teau scene." 
 
 Mr. Molesworth now entered, and the con- 
 versation became more divided : Helen talked 
 to Mrs. Gainsborough, and listened to Fanny, 
 while the gentlemen discoursed of the state of 
 Greece, the character of the Sultan, of the 
 weather, of the hay, and of the coming 
 harvest. 
 
 On the next day the Gainsboroughs dined 
 at the Hall. George Gainsborough's accorh- 
 plishments developed, he played on the guitar, 
 he sang extremely well, and he quoted Byron. 
 
 Mr. Molesworth thought him a puppy, 
 Arthur Latimer thought him very presuming, 
 Helen thought him very amusing. 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 51 
 
 Whatsoever opinion, however, they might 
 severally have formed of him, they could 
 scarcely avoid intimacy, for every day brought 
 them into collision. They met him in their 
 rides, in their walks, in the village, or on 
 the common. He sketched with great skill, 
 his sketch-books were all at Miss Molesworth's 
 command. He brought them, he fetched them 
 away again, he replaced them with others, he 
 had for ever an excuse for a visit. He took 
 great interest in the School- house which was 
 now rapidly progressing, he was ever ready to 
 advise or to admire. One day, as he was stand- 
 ing by the side of Helen, and admiring the view 
 ° of the village, which was visible from the 
 School, a pretty little girl came hovering around 
 them, she kept blushing and curtseying, and 
 looked as if she wished to speak. 
 
 D 2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS UBRARYj 
 
^'^ AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 " Well, Mary," said Helen, " how is your 
 Mother, is she better ? " 
 
 " Much better, thank you, Ma'am, nearly 
 well now." Still the little girl did not go. 
 
 " What do you want Mary ? I am sure 
 you want something of me. Speak out, do 
 not be afraid," and Helen kindly patted her 
 cheek. 
 
 The little girl thus encouraged, but still 
 blushing, and still curtseying, ventured to make 
 her petition. Helen had promised that, when 
 her mother was better, she should do some 
 work for her. To work for Miss Molesworth 
 was the greatest honour in the school, and only 
 accorded to the industrious ; and the little 
 girl now came to claim the performance of 
 Helen's promise, 
 
 " I will speak to Mrs. Walker about you to- 
 
AUBREY ROHUN. 53 
 
 day, Mary ; you are a good little girl for being 
 so anxious to work." 
 
 Mary looked much pleased, she walked 
 steadily away for a few yards, and then scam- 
 pered off to join her companions. 
 
 " You have granted that child's petition so 
 kindly," said Mr. Gainsborough, " that 1 am 
 emboldened to prefer one. Will you grant me 
 a favour ? " 
 
 " Do you want work, too ? are you already 
 tired of idleness 1 ** 
 
 " No, I do not want work, I want you to 
 take me a ride." 
 
 " Where?" 
 
 " To the green dell in Bohun Park." 
 
 " What, the Woodman's Dell, have you not 
 yet been there ? " 
 
 *' No, I every day take the most minute 
 
^ AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 directions where it is situated, not that I may 
 visit, but that I may avoid it. You described 
 it so poetically on the morning that I first had 
 the pleasure of seeing you, that I could not 
 endure to view it for the first time, but in your 
 presence." 
 
 " When you see it, you will think I de- 
 scribed it very ilL" 
 
 " But will you introduce me ? " 
 " I shall be very happy, but we must have 
 a very fine sunny day, it must be just such a 
 day as this, clear* and bright. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Boscawen are coming to us next week, and we 
 will all go together." 
 
 Mr. Gainsborough was eloquent in his thanks. 
 " Papa," said Helen, as Mr. Molesworth 
 joined them, " we are projecting a pic-nic, will 
 you ensure us fine v eather ? " 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 65 
 
 ** Remember your promise to me," said Mr. 
 Gainsborough, as Helen shook hands with him 
 at parting. " The sun will be propitious if 
 you are." 
 
 " That is a most gallant young gentleman," 
 observed Mr. Molesworth, as Helen took his 
 arm and they proceeded up the Green. " A 
 specimen of the Oriental style, I presume ! " 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 FRESH ARRIVALS.-THE BOSCAWEN FAMILY. 
 
 There was an almost alarming ringing at the 
 Hall gates. All the dogs barked. Amid the 
 whirl of wheels, human voices might however 
 be detected. The Boscawens had arrived ! 
 
 Helen flew into the hall to welcome her 
 friend. " Dear Charlotte, how well you look,*' 
 she exclaimed, as she embraced her. It was a 
 long ceremony before the whole family could 
 
AUBREY BOHUT^. 57 
 
 be unpacked. First came out the baby warm 
 and sleeping ; Mrs. Boscawen was all anxiety 
 until he was safely conveyed out of the draughts. 
 Then came the eldest boy, a brave youth of 
 four, who was vociferous until he was allowed 
 to tell cousin Helen that he was quite a man, 
 and had ridden outside all the way with papa. 
 Followed the second son very fractious, too 
 young to have partaken of his elder brother's 
 privileges, and too old to have shared the 
 slumbering felicity of the younger. At last 
 the children were got rid of, sent to the com- 
 fortable nursery which had been prepared for 
 them, and the noise subsided, and Helen was 
 able to hear that they had deposited Mrs. 
 Latimer at the Rectory quite well, that 
 they had just had a glimpse of Arthur as 
 he took his mother from the carriage, and 
 
 d5 
 
58 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 that they were all delighted to be again at 
 Hartlebury. 
 
 Mrs. Boscawen was a pretty little woman, 
 with sparkling hazel eyes and soft brown hair, 
 very fond of her husband, and devoted to her 
 nursery. She had made an excellent match. 
 Mr. Boscawen was a man of considerable in- 
 dependent fortune, and of still more consider- 
 able expectations. He was not remarkably 
 handsome, nor remarkably clever, but extremely 
 amiable, and sensible enough. 
 
 Charlotte had not been at Hartlebury since 
 immediately after her marriage, except during 
 a short and painful visit at the time of her 
 father's death, and she was eager to see all 
 her old friends, and to hear of all that con- 
 cerned them. Helen willing as she was to 
 communicate, could never satisfy her, and 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 69 
 
 Mr. Boscawen had great difficulty in per- 
 suading his wife that early hours were indis- 
 pensable after a long journey, that he was very 
 tired, and that she must be very tired too. 
 
 People, I believe, only breakfast in the 
 country. It is a cheerful union with us, full of 
 hope and plans, and every one comes down, 
 looking all the better for early slumbers and 
 rosy dreams. Dinner, even in the country, 
 has a graver aspect. The party is in general 
 slightly exhausted, they sigh for repose, the 
 innocent excitement of the morn is over, the 
 talkers take refuge in memory, and remind 
 each other of early scenes and scrapes, joys 
 and sorrows, and enumerate all the good fellows 
 who are now dead, and all the pretty faces 
 that are now never beheld. 
 
 The breakfast table at Hartlebury was the 
 
60 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 most charming breakfast -table in the world. 
 Every body lingered at it with a sort of lazy 
 delight. And this morning the ceremony 
 lasted longer than ever, and was of course still 
 more lively than usual. At length the ladies 
 rose to prepare for a round of village visits, and 
 Mr. Molesworth proposed to Mr. Boscawen a 
 ride over the estate. 
 
 The first village visit was of course to the 
 rectory. Helen was eager to see Mi-s. Latimer, 
 and Charlotte to see her brother and his im- 
 provements. Here they remained a long time, 
 so much had they all to say. Even Charlotte 
 had a little history of the last twelve hours to 
 tell her mother. She was glad to say the 
 children did not seem to have suffered from 
 their journey at all ; last night when they went 
 to bed, Mr. Boscawen thought Henry seemed a 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 61 
 
 little hot and feverish, but she did not give 
 him anything he was so fast asleep, and after 
 all it had proved to be nothing, for he was as 
 gay and as lively as the others this morning. 
 They were all as happy as possible, and were 
 coming at two o'clock, after they had had their 
 dinner, to see their grandmamma. 
 
 ** Well then my dear girls," said Mrs. 
 Latimer, rising when this communication was 
 made to her, *' if I am to receive these little 
 gentry at two, I must run away from you now, 
 for I left Nugent with all her accompt books, 
 and all her bills open before her, and she will 
 be quite cross if we do not complete our 
 affairs.'* 
 
 " We shall meet again," said Helen, as she 
 kissed her: "you will come up and dine with 
 us?** Au»d with the consoling assurance that 
 
62 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 they were to meet again in a very few hours, 
 Mrs. Latimer retired. 
 
 The young ladies crossed the Rectory gar- 
 den, and passing through a small side gate, 
 entered the lane just opposite to the almshouses. 
 Hither they bent their steps. If the first visit 
 were to the Rectory, the second must as un- 
 questionably be to Dame Harrald. 
 
 The old woman was standing in her door- 
 way as they approached. She hastened for- 
 ward to meet them. She was delighted to see 
 Charlotte, and not a little secret gratification 
 at the consideration thus shown to her, mingled 
 with her pleasure. 
 
 " Bless you," said the dame, as she followed 
 them into her abode, ** it does me good to see 
 you. I dare say you are surprised to find me 
 here, Ma'am." 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 63 
 
 " I am delighted to see you looking so well, 
 and seemingly so comfortable," said Mrs. Bos- 
 cawen, and she turned to admire the room and 
 every thing it contained. Never was there 
 such a picture of cheerful neatness. The sun 
 shone through the broad latticed window on 
 the well i-ubbed oaken chairs : in one corner 
 stood the spinning-wheel, and on a small round 
 table, by the side of a high backed arm-chair, 
 was the knitting. The floor had just been 
 fresh sanded. The mantle-shelf was adorned 
 with many curious ornaments, the greater part 
 fairings from her scholars, and the walls were 
 hung with some prints of scripture history, in 
 heavy black wooden frames, which once upon 
 a time, many years ago, had come from the 
 Hall. There was the Prodigal Son in an ample 
 pair of breeches, and a three cornered cocked 
 
64 - AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 hat well laced : and the good Samaritan depo- 
 siting his charitable burthen at a capital inn, 
 with a handsome sign of the Rose and Crown, 
 bearing in very legible characters, the comfort- 
 able assurance of there being within good ac- 
 commodation for man and beast. 
 
 "Just the same as ever," said Charlotte, 
 ** always the neatest person in the world." 
 
 " I am not so old yet, but that I can put 
 my room to rights," said the old dame, and 
 she drew herself up. 
 
 This was but a slight allusion ; the dame 
 was too happy to be able to remember she was 
 in a fallen state. They talked of the village and 
 its historiettes, and Charlotte had the pleasure 
 of hearing her version of many of the stories 
 Helen had already told. 
 
 " Have you seen the new school-house yet?" 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 65 
 
 at length enquired the dame. Charlotte had 
 not yet visited it ; the old woman praised its 
 conveniences with a magnanimous dignity. 
 
 " You must knit my boys some socks, they 
 have never had any so good as the pair you 
 sent me for a present last year by mamma," 
 said Charlotte, as she bid good morning to her 
 old friend. 
 
 The ladies proceeded up the lane to the 
 village green, stopping a few minutes to admire 
 the new building. 
 
 " We must CfiU at the farm," said Helen, 
 " the Collinses will be hurt if they see us so 
 near." 
 
 The farm-house stood at the further part 
 of the village, and thither they directed their 
 way, but their progress was very slow, for 
 Charlotte had a reason for speaking to every 
 
66 AUBREY BOHUH. 
 
 person they met, and to every child who was 
 playing about the cottage doors. 
 
 At the next wicket gate, under the elms, 
 in front of the farm, was a gentleman on horse- 
 back. His back was turned to them, and he 
 was leaning on his saddle, and talking, appa- 
 rently very gaily, to a very pretty girl. 
 
 "Who can that be standing against the 
 gate, talking to that pretty girl?" enquired 
 Charlotte. 
 
 ** That is Mr. George Gainsborough, and 
 that pretty girl is Lydia Collins," answered 
 Helen. " I hope he is not turning my little 
 friend's head." 
 
 " Is it possible that that can be Lydia ; why 
 she was quite a child the last time I saw her !" 
 
 Lydia's blushing face soon revealed that she 
 saw them, and George Gainsborough turning 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 67 
 
 round, bowed, and slightly smiled, and can- 
 tered away. Lydia opened the gate, and 
 ushered them through the small garden into 
 the house. The door opened at once into the 
 usual sitting-room of the family. It was tiled, 
 but had several pieces of handsome useful fur- 
 niture. There was a huge mahogany bureau, 
 where Mrs. Collins kept her money and her 
 accompts, a tall clock which ticked most au- 
 dibly, and along one side was a dresser covered 
 with work, and above "which were hanging 
 shelves, with a few books. Some children's 
 toys, headless horses, and waggons without 
 wheels, lay on the ground, but the room looked 
 neat and orderly. Mrs. Collins soon made her 
 appearance — an active, motherly woman, with 
 whom twelve children were never an excuse 
 for untidiness. 
 
68 AUBREY BOHUN* 
 
 Mrs. Collins was eager in her expressions 
 of gratification at their visit, and scolded Lydia 
 for not shewing them into the hest room. Ac- 
 cordingly, she herself opened the door into an 
 apartment, covered with a bright Brussel's 
 carpet, all large green leaves and red roses, 
 on which the sun was never allowed to shine. 
 Lydia began to open the shutters, but Miss 
 Molesworth begged her not to take so much 
 trouble. 
 
 ** You know, Mrs. Collins," said she, " I 
 always like to see you in the midst of all your 
 occupation, and so I am sure does Mrs. Bos- 
 cawen." 
 
 The first bustle of reception over, Mrs. 
 Collins soon recovered her presence of mind, 
 and had much to tell, and a great many ques- 
 tions to ask. The ages, and the names, and 
 
AUBREY BOHUN. 69 
 
 the health, of the three Master Boscawens 
 were first discussed, then the young Collinses 
 of the same date were brought in, to ascertain 
 if they were taller, or shorter, or stouter; 
 and Charlotte having satisfactorily ascertained 
 that neither measles, nor hooping cough, nor 
 scarlet fever, had been in the village for the 
 last year, promised that her sons shoald pay 
 Mrs. Collins, and her hens and chickens, a 
 visit. 
 
 ''Lydia Collins is certainly a very pretty 
 o-irl," observed Mrs. Boscawen, as she and 
 Helen were proceeding homewards, *' and very 
 pleasing too, but could you believe that poor 
 little Susan was only one month younger than 
 Henry r 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE PIC-NIC IN BOHUN PARK. 
 
 Amid the wildest scenery of Bohun Park you 
 suddenly come to a small rustic gate. Pass 
 through it a few yards, and a magical scene is 
 before you. The ground seems to have opened 
 at your feet ; you look over the heads of the 
 tallest trees upon a green and bowery glen, 
 nearly surrounded by precipitous banks covered 
 with towering trees growing one above the 
 
AUBREY BOHUy. 71 
 
 Other. At the furthest point these banks gra- 
 dually slope down, and form a natural open- 
 ing. 
 
 This beautiful spot was to be to-day the 
 scene of a fine pic-nic party from Hartlebury, 
 for which the arrival of the Boscawens had been 
 the signal. George Gainsborough, too, was to be 
 introduced to the picturesque beauties of which 
 he was, as he was in the habit of constantly 
 avowing, an enthusiastic admirer. 
 
 And even now a sparkling britchka and a 
 cluster of gay cavaliers, looking like a fairy 
 cavalcade from the heights above, enter upon 
 the scene. It is the party from Hartlebury 
 Hall. The weather was so fair and fixed, that 
 even Mrs. Latimer had ventured to join the 
 party, and the Gainsboroughs were also there ; 
 for since their son's return, a more familiar 
 
72 AUBREY BOHUN. 
 
 intercourse between them and the squire and 
 his daughter, had almost imperceptibly arisen. 
 
 "This is charming," said George Gains- 
 borough throwing himself from his horse, 
 " you may travel all over the world, and never 
 see a scene like this." 
 
 Mr. George Gainsborough was rewarded 
 for his enthusiasm with a smile from Miss 
 Moles worth. The party proceeded to the other 
 end of the glen. They trod with delight the 
 mossy and elastic turf ; they gazed with admi- 
 ration on the tall trees, whose tops seemed to 
 touch the heavens, and whose stems were con- 
 cealed by the richest underwood of aromatic 
 shrubs. They were all alike enchanted, and 
 Helen declared that the beautiful spot looked 
 more beautiful than ever. A thousand mazy 
 paths wound among the trees, half ascending 
 
HARTLEBURY. 73 
 
 the hill, and then again gently terminating 
 in the glen. Amid these bowery walks they 
 roamed, or reposed on the soft turf beneath 
 the broad shadow of a branching tree. Every 
 body was witty and agreeable, or, at least, 
 seemed so ; for every body was pleased and in 
 good humour. 
 
 " I believe this is real happiness,'* said 
 Helen, as she scented the perfumed air. 
 
 *' I am sure it is," said George Gains- 
 borough, as he threw himself on the turf by 
 her side. 
 
 "A young lady's idea of happiness, Helen," 
 said her father, — "to be pleased, and to be 
 idle." 
 
 "To be pleasing, you mean, Sir, said 
 
 George Gainsborough, " and therefore not 
 idle. " 
 
 VOL, I. E 
 
74 A YEAR AT 
 
 They were soon all moving about again ; 
 they became adventurous. One of the party 
 proposed that they should mount the hill. 
 Mrs. Latimer and Mrs. Gainsborough would 
 not allow the project to be abandoned on their 
 account ; they should be very well amused in 
 seeing the tent pitched, and watching all the 
 preparations for the repast. 
 
 " Shall we then make an expedition to 
 the castle ? " asked Helen. " Will it be too 
 hot 1 " 
 
 George Gainsborough maintained that it was 
 not hot now, and, as they mounted the hill, 
 it would be quite cool. Helen, too, had often 
 made the ascent before ; she knew the least 
 steep passage. So they proceeded slowly 
 through an arched walk formed by the entwin- 
 ing branches of the trees. Every now and 
 
HARTLEBURY. 75 
 
 then there came a broken piece of open, uneven 
 ground, and then, over the trees they had passed 
 through, they caught a glimpse of a rich view ; 
 then, again, the agreeable shade of the trees 
 received them. They arrived, at last, at the 
 top of the hill, at the little gate we have 
 already mentioned, and they forgot their fatigue 
 as they looked upon the rich landscape around 
 them, and upon the verdant scene at their 
 feet, which they had not long left. It was 
 now all life and bustle : a gay marquee had 
 just risen, and many lilliputian agents were 
 toiling for their future enjoyment. 
 
 They crossed through the wild fern, led by 
 Arthur Latimer and Helen, into a more culti- 
 vated scene, when, turning by a noble group 
 of forest trees, they found themselves close to 
 the castle. 
 
 E 2 
 
76 A YEAR AT 
 
 Bohun castle was a regular show place, 
 and was quite an income to all the inn-keepers 
 in the neighbourhood. Few travellers came 
 within twenty miles of it that were not induced 
 to stay on their way, and visit the castle. The 
 housekeeper, a stately lady, full of Bohun 
 pride, delighted in the display of the grandeur 
 of her charge, and was sedulous in preserving 
 its splendour, as far as lay in her power. 
 Though so long uninhabited, the splendid pile 
 bore no marks of devastation — scarcely of 
 neglect. Careful dusting had preserved the 
 gilding, and the rich damask, though faded, 
 was not soiled or worn. The state-rooms were 
 in the same order as when, thirty years ago, 
 they had received the gay revellers, who had 
 congregated round Mr. Bohun and his beau- 
 tiful bride : and, though the housekeeper in- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 77 
 
 wardly sighed at the present possessor's dis- 
 regard of his castle, she never allowed that 
 there was anything extraordinary in his ab- 
 sence. " Mr. Bohun was, at present, on the 
 continent,'* was her evasive answer to stran- 
 gers. With her neighbours she was more at 
 her ease : she knew they were as well informed 
 as herself, and would ask no questions where 
 they were sure they could obtain no inform- 
 ation. 
 
 Our party knocked at a small postern gate, 
 the housekeeper was summoned, but she begged 
 the party to go round to the grand entrance, 
 as she disliked any one to enter the castle by 
 any other mode. Accordingly, they proceeded 
 to the west front of the building, passed over 
 the draw-bridge, which was now a stationary 
 one, through the massy gates which creaked 
 
78 A YEAR AT 
 
 on their hinges, as with difficulty they pushed 
 them open, and crossed the spacious quadrangle 
 to the vast Hall, where the Housekeeper 
 awaited them. 
 
 She conducted them up the magnificent 
 stair-case into an anti-room, which opened on 
 one side into the private apartments, which 
 were never shown, and on the other into the 
 state chambers. She led them through cor- 
 ridors and guard-rooms, great and little cabi- 
 nets, large and small drawing - rooms, and 
 spacious saloons, all gilding and painted ceil- 
 ings, and state bed-chambers, where monarchs 
 had slept. There was the chapel, too, covered 
 with crimson velvet, the dim library, full of 
 monastic books, and the dismantled theatre 
 and the long picture gallery. There had for- 
 merly been a brilliant flower-garden along the 
 
HARTLEBURY. 79 
 
 terrace ; that was no longer kept up, but a 
 splendid view was to be seen from every win- 
 dow. Through loop-hole, or lattice, or lordly 
 oriel, a rich, but varied, scene was ever present. 
 
 The party were wearied with admiration, 
 and, before they recommenced their walk, they 
 were glad to rest themselves awhile. The 
 picture gallery, with* its long divan - looking 
 seats, was agreed on by all to be the best loung- 
 mg place, for there would be amusement for 
 those who were the soonest refreshed. 
 
 George Gainsborough, ever active and rest- 
 less, was soon moving about the room. An 
 unfinished picture, which was leaning with its 
 face against the wall, attracted his attention. 
 He turned it towards a good light. He uttered 
 a short, but agitated, exclamation. 
 
 "It is the late Mr. Bohun, sir," said the 
 
80 A YEAR AT 
 
 housekeeper, attracted by his exclamation, and 
 his fixed and ardent gaze. " It is the late Mr. 
 Bohun, sir, in an Albanian dress, I believe, 
 a character in some play he was acting. If 
 was painting at the time the sad accident hap- 
 pened ; when he fell from his harse, you know, 
 sir," said the woman turning towards Mr, 
 Molesworth. 
 
 Her explanation had drawn all eyes towards 
 the picture, and towards George Gainsborough. 
 He was still holding it, and looked quite pale. 
 
 He rallied, and laughed, and said it was 
 so exactly like a person he had known, that it 
 took him quite by surprise, as he suddenly 
 turned it round. 
 
 The visitors began to think of returning. 
 Mrs. Latimer and her companion would be 
 alarmed if they staid away much longer, they 
 
HARTLEBURY. 81 
 
 would fancy that some accident had happened, 
 they must set off. So they retraced their steps, 
 but somewhat languidly, and were all unani- 
 mous in rejoicing that their return was a 
 descent. 
 
 The party was just sufficiently exhausted to 
 make their repast very agreeable. It is morti- 
 fying to observe how very intense are all phy- 
 sical pleasures. A glass of champaigne has 
 more effect upon the mind than the finest 
 apothegm of the deepest sage, and a sandwich 
 or a plover's egg, a plate of jelly, or a spoonful 
 of trifle, will often produce an effect which the 
 wisest philosophers and the most brilliant poets 
 have failed in bringing about. 
 
 For sometime, nothing was heard but the 
 clatter of plates, and the drawing of corks, 
 varied with slight offers of assistance, recom- 
 
 e5 
 
82 A YEAR AT 
 
 mendations to take some particular food, or 
 invitations to taste some peculiar beverage. At 
 length Miss Molesworth uttered a sentence, 
 and, strange to say, the same speculation was 
 passing in almost every one else's mind. 
 
 *' I wonder," said Miss Molesworth, " I 
 wonder if Mr. Bohun will ever return !" 
 
 " Where is he?" enquired Mr. George 
 Gainsborough. 
 
 " No one knoweth," replied Miss Moles- 
 worth, "but I suppose at Rome, Naples, Con- 
 stantinople, or some place or other which young 
 men imagine to be much more agreeable than 
 London, though I see not why they should 
 be." 
 
 " London is the largest capital of modern 
 times," observed Mr. Gainsborough senior. " It 
 is very strange that the population of principal 
 
HARTLEBURY. 83 
 
 cities holds no relation to the population of the 
 state. For instance Lisbon has nearly two hun- 
 dred thousand inhabitants, and yet Portugal 
 itself does not contain many more souls than 
 London. I wonder how this is ?" 
 
 ** Quite enough souls to cut each others 
 throats," said Mr. Molesworth. " You will 
 soon have the population of Lisbon scanty 
 enough." 
 
 *' You never were at Lisbon, George?" en- 
 quired his father, " so you cannot tell me 
 whether it is defensible." 
 
 " I believe I can answer your question, sir, 
 though I never have been at Lisbon. It is not 
 fortified. But that signifies little with irregular 
 troops. One can soon throw up a few batteries. 
 Give me plenty of artillery, and I will defend 
 any open town in Europe against irregular 
 
84 A YEAR AT 
 
 troops. The mere suburbs would be burnt, to 
 be sure, but that's nothing," added Mr. George 
 Gainsborough, with an air of complacent 
 courage, which seemed to speak from experi- 
 ence. " I should perhaps think fit to burn 
 them myself." 
 
 *' I am sure, I hope you would never do 
 anything so dreadful, George," exclaimed his 
 Mother. 
 
 *' You have seen war ?" enquired Helen. 
 
 " I had four years of it in Greece," replied 
 George Gainsborough, " and I can assure you, 
 whatever they may say, that fighting with 
 Turks is no trifle." 
 
 "Who is to have Candia?" enquired his 
 father. 
 
 " A glass of champaigne, Mr. Gainsbo- 
 roush ?" said Mr. Molesworth. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 85 
 
 " Nothing is more awful than a Turkish mas- 
 sacre," continued George Gainsborough, '*none 
 spared, women, children and all. It is indeed 
 terrific." 
 
 "How any body could kill a child!" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Boscawen, with averted eyes, and 
 shuddering breath. " It does seem to me quite 
 impossible. Only think, Godfrey," addressing 
 herself to her husband, " what should we do 
 if anything were to happen in this country 
 with our dear boys. I don't think an English 
 mob would kill children, do you Mr. Gains- 
 borough ?" 
 
 " It is impossible to say what an infuriated 
 populace would do," solemnly replied the poli- 
 tician. 
 
 " It appears to me," said Arthur Latimer, 
 " that the transition from incendiarism to 
 
86 A YEAR AT 
 
 the most horrible murder is not very dif- 
 ficult/' 
 
 " Gracious!" said Mrs. Gainsborough, " bow 
 terrible !" 
 
 " Murder, incendiarism !" said Miss Moles- 
 worth. " What are we talking about. Come, 
 Arthur, let us remember that this is a pic-nic, 
 and not a charnel-house. Now what do you 
 think I was imagining in the picture gallery 
 to-day r' 
 
 " A woman's imagination is beyond my 
 device," said Mr. Molesworth, with affected 
 gruffness. '* I dare say something very silly." 
 
 " You are not inspired by the chivalrous 
 scene, papa. Remember, you have wandered 
 to-day in bannered halls, and courtly chambers, 
 and must pay compliments even to your 
 daughter." 
 
HA.RTLEBURY. 87 
 
 " I believe she gets all the compliments I 
 ever do pay," rejoined Mr. Molesworth, with 
 an ill-suppressed smile. 
 
 " And I am sure she deserves them,'* said 
 Mrs. Latimer. 
 
 " Indeed ! yes !" echoed Mrs. Gainsborough. 
 
 " Silence, silence," cried Helen, " you for- 
 get that J am here." 
 
 " Oh ! we can make up for it by cutting 
 you up behind your back," said her father. 
 " Arthur Latimer, you seem rather dull. Send 
 me some pigeon-pie, and persuade Mrs. Gains- 
 borough to join us both in a glass of wine. 
 What shall it be, Mrs. Gainsborough? The 
 lady must decide you know." 
 
 " Champaigne, then, if you please." 
 
 " Ah ! I thought so. Champaigne, you 
 know, is the ladies' wine." 
 
88 A YEAR AT 
 
 " You were right, Mr. Molesworth," said 
 Mr. Gainsborough, led by the association of 
 ideas, *' Port has risen." 
 
 " To be sure, depend upon it, friend Gains- 
 borough, I am a sounder politician than you 
 imagine." 
 
 " Come, Helen," said Arthur Latimer, " we 
 have not yet been favored with your fancy." 
 
 " You would not listen, so I have com- 
 municated it, in confidence, to Mr. George 
 Gainsborough, who thinks the idea admira- 
 ble." 
 
 " Capital !" attested Mr. George Gainsbo- 
 rough. "But Mr. Bohun must return to put 
 it in execution." 
 
 "Oh! a ball," said Arthur Latimer. "I 
 thought so. Brilliant fancy ! A ball." 
 
 " Not a ball ! Mr. Latimer," laughingly 
 
HARTLEBURY. 89 
 
 replied Helen. " No ! not a ball, but some- 
 thing much more original." 
 
 " Come . Helen," said her father, " I am 
 getting curious, and Arthur, too, is dying to 
 know. Put us out of our suspense." 
 
 *' Well then, Papa, a tournament !" 
 
 ** A fiddlestick! Helen!" 
 
 ** Lord Helm had a tournament at Strange- 
 ways castle last year," replied Helen. 
 
 " And I hope there were plenty of bloody 
 coxcombs," replied her father. 
 
 *VThe invention of gunpowder has entirely 
 altered the whole system of warfare," observed 
 Mr. Gainsborough. " How were you supplied 
 with ammunition in Greece, George ?" 
 
 " We trusted more to our yataghans than 
 to anything else," replied the hero 
 
 '' Helen," said Mrs. Boscawen to Miss 
 
90 A YEAR AT 
 
 Molesworth, " do you know what little Henry- 
 said to Sir Frederick, before we left town ?" 
 
 " No indeed," replied Helen, "but I shall 
 be delighted to hear, for I suspect that Master 
 Henry will turn out a very great wit." 
 
 " He certainly does say very odd things," 
 assented his silent father, ceasing from his pasty. 
 The assent was irrepressible. 
 
 " Well, do you know," continued Mrs. Bos- 
 caw en, ** Sir Frederick wanted to give them 
 all something, and the two eldest were to 
 choose. Walter fixed his heart on a watch, 
 and I was to wind it up for him every night, 
 for he never could manage to wind it up, he 
 is so impatient ; and then little Henry was to 
 choose, and what do you think he said to Sir 
 Frederick, quite in his sturdy way, you know. 
 Why, as I am to be a soldier, I. think I had 
 
HARTLEBTJRY. 91 
 
 better have a sword, and then, I shall learn 
 how to use it. ♦"'nly think of the child! Sir 
 Frederick was so pleased." 
 
 " Capital little fellow!" said Helen. 
 
 " Dear boy," ejaculated Mrs. Latimer. 
 
 *' Only think !" exclaimed Mrs. Gainsbo- 
 rough." 
 
 " Charming," echoed Miss Gainsborough. 
 
 " That child certainly does say very odd 
 things I" observed Mr. Boscawen. 
 
 The hours flew away. The party were 
 amused. The sun was sinking. They were 
 no longer hungry ; they began to grow senti- 
 mental. Mr. George Gainsborough had brought 
 his guitar by particular desire, and sang several 
 airs. He had a good voice, and well cultivated. 
 His subjects were tender as the evening breeze, 
 and tremulous as the evening star. His style 
 
92 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 was perhaps two affectedly passionate, and too 
 ornate. But the human voice is, after all, a 
 wonderful instrument, and* its influence is mys- 
 teriously powerful. Even the tones of George 
 Gainsborough stilled or excited many a sym- 
 pathetic heart, and drove from many a bosom 
 the worldly thought of the morrow. The glori- 
 ous sun-set faded away. With sweet sounds 
 lingering in their ear, the party rose, and 
 stretched their grateful limbs in the beautiful 
 and fragrant air. The horses were ordered, 
 The pic-nic had succeeded, 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 REFLECTIONS WHICH IT CREATES IN THE 
 MINDS OF SEVERAL OF THE PARTY. 
 
 The pic-nic of yesterday was an exception to 
 all pic - nics. All returned in the same 
 good humour as they had started. The wea- 
 ther had been faultless, and so had been 
 the company. But the morrow's sober re- 
 membrance of it did not bring equal plea- 
 sure to all. Arthur Latimer was not as 
 
94 A YEAR AT 
 
 well satisfied, with the events of the pre- 
 ceding day, as were the rest of the 
 party. 
 
 From the first of his introduction to George 
 Gainsborough, he had felt towards him an 
 instinctive dislike. But, he was angry with 
 himself for conceiving a prejudice, which, 
 he would never acknowledge, and which 
 he flattered himself, he effectually concealed. 
 What right had he to set himself up for 
 a censor of Mr. Gainsborough's manners? 
 But now, since yesterday, greater causes of 
 offence had arisen. It was no longer his 
 manner, but his intentions, that Mr. Laitmer 
 objected to, for he strongly suspected him of 
 a systematic intention of making himself 
 particularly agreeable to Helen. The ima- 
 gination of such a thing was itself an 
 
HARTLEBURY. 95 
 
 insult. It was really ridiculous, it was absurd, 
 it was surprising that Mr. Molesworth did not 
 resent it. As to Helen herself, she was so 
 unsuspicious, that such an idea could never 
 cross her mind. Arthur was not uneasy 
 about her : he was satisfied that she had 
 detected Mr. Gainsborough's specious vul- 
 garity ; but she was evidently amused by 
 him. He thought her father should certainly 
 interfere. He thought he would speak to 
 her himself; he would tell her, he would 
 seek a proper opportunity of telling her, 
 that she might perhaps, unconsciously, be 
 encouraging pretentions to which she would 
 never listen. But, had he any right to 
 advise Helen on such a point? And, after 
 all, he was satisfied that she saw through 
 Gainsborough; she could not be injured. 
 
96 A YEAR AT 
 
 But she was injured, she was insulted by 
 such pretentions. It was really disgusting 
 to think what annoyances women were sub- 
 ject to. 
 
 Thus cogitated Arthur Latimer. To- 
 morrow, they were all to dine at Oakfield, 
 and Arthur finally determined to regulate 
 his conduct, by his observations. 
 
 Whatever might be the cause of Mr. 
 Latimer's quickness of observation, there 
 is no doubt he was perfectly right in his 
 suspicions. George Gainsborough was ex- 
 cessively vain, and very presumptuous. He 
 considered himself very handsome, with a 
 peculiarly captivating manner, and he never 
 was in company with any woman for half 
 an hour, provided she was not absolutely 
 old, and absolutely ugly, which no women 
 
HARTLEBURY. 97 
 
 are, without using his utmost endeavour to 
 make his companion of the same opinion 
 as himself. Miss Molesworth smiled, and 
 his ambition fired. Why should she not be 
 his ? He was quite alive to all the obvious 
 inequalities of the union, which would make 
 every body exclaim, and he was aware too, 
 of a few more, which no one knew any 
 thing about. But he had passed through 
 some slight adventures, and he had formed 
 a very determined opinion, that a woman 
 will do anything for love, — much more as- 
 tonishing things than marrying a handsome 
 young man. 
 
 Helen Molesworth desperately enamoured, 
 ready to sacrifice every thing for him ; her 
 father yielding to her entreaties, and her 
 tears, was a captivating picture, now often 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 A YEAR AT 
 
 present to George Gainsborough's imagina- 
 tion. Fear never disturbed him ; he never 
 doubted he could excite this great affection, 
 which was to work sach agreeable results. 
 No, he felt confident, not only in his own 
 manifold attractions, but in the total ab- 
 sence of all rivals. Excepting Arthur 
 Latimer, Helen saw but few persons at any 
 time, and those few, but rarely, who could 
 venture to aspire. Of Arthur Latimer he 
 had no fear. They were cousins, and they 
 had been brought up together, why should 
 she all of a sudden fall in love with a per- 
 son she had known all her life? 
 
 There was no chance of it, it was im- 
 possible, cousins never do fall in love. Of 
 course she felt towards him as she would 
 for a brother, and as for Arthur Latimer 
 
HARTLEBURY. 99 
 
 himself, George Gainsborough had the great- 
 est contempt for him, for not having long 
 ago secured so great a prize. 
 
 F 2 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE GAINSBOROUGHS GIVE A DINNER. 
 
 I very much fear that my fashionable readers, 
 who have been accustomed to society as fash- 
 ionable as themselves, whenever they have 
 foimd time to skim over a novel, will be very 
 much disgusted with my dull country parties, 
 where the same thing is done and said, every 
 day, by the same people — But really at Hartle- 
 bury, there is very little neighbourhood, and 
 
HARTLEBURY. 101 
 
 such slight sources of entertainment to all those 
 who depend particularly upon companionship, 
 that I must even invite my friends, in spite of 
 the pic-nic, which has but just past, to 
 join Mr. and Mrs. Gainsborough's dinner to- 
 day. 
 
 It was a very grand afiair, indeed, for the 
 Gainsboroughs. Excited by their increasing 
 intimacy at the Hall, and the honor of not 
 only having the Molesworths, and theLatimers, 
 but even the Boscawens for their guests, and 
 proud in the confidence that their travelled 
 and accomplished son was present to back 
 them at this moment of almost trying triumph, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gainsborough resolved that 
 the dinner should be, in every respect, worthy 
 of the occasion. The Head Cook, at the prin- 
 cipal Hotel at Fanchester was engaged ex- 
 
102 A YEAR AT 
 
 pressly, a stray sturgeon, that perquisite of 
 princes, could scarcely have made a greater 
 sensation than the arrival of the turhot, from 
 
 borough, and there were two soups, 
 
 Mrs. Gainsborough's idea of complete domestic 
 splendor. Besides the party of yesterday, 
 Mrs. Escott was a guest, and Mr. Chace, the 
 manager of the Bohun property, but himself 
 also a small proprietor, and an active Magis- 
 trate, was there, and Dr. Maxwell, the son- 
 in-law of Mr. Gainsborough, and his lady. — Dr. 
 Maxwell was a well powdered and pompous 
 looking gentleman, well preferred in the church, 
 and considerably older than his wife. 
 
 " I heard of your party yesterday," said 
 Mrs. Escott, speaking as she entered the room, 
 
 ■A 
 
 " William Barton saw you all, never saw 
 anything so pretty — tent, blue and white, — 
 
HARTLEBURY. 103 
 
 hope Mrs. Latimer caught no rheumatism. I 
 think it is always damp in that glen. And so 
 you lionized the castle? You must have 
 suffered a great deal in the ascent? such a 
 hot day ! I suppose you remained below, with 
 Mrs. Latimer, Mrs. Gainsborough 1 Well, it 
 is a noble place, quite the pride of the country, 
 and very well kept up too, that no one can 
 deny. That Mrs. Brand is a treasure, — I won- 
 der if Mr. Bohun will ever return? They say 
 that the Steward has (quarrelled with the head 
 gardener about the fruit. The Steward says 
 the succession houses are his perquisite. No, 
 says the Gardener, the head gardener, Mac- 
 pherson, a Scotchman, a very respectable man, 
 and an excellent gardener, the Scotch are the 
 best gardeners, very odd, no fruit in their own 
 country — No, says Mr. Macpherson — Ah ! Mr. 
 
104 A YEAR AT 
 
 Chace, how d'ye do ? you know all about it, 
 I dare say. I am sure Mr. Bohun owes you 
 a debt, which he never can repay. You always 
 put me in mind of what old Frank Escott, of 
 Escott Hall, said to Mr. Burnley, who had the 
 manasrement of the Escott estates in his 
 minority, the Somersetshire property, as well 
 as Escott Hall : * Mr. Burnley,' said he, * I and 
 my family owe you more than I can express, 
 and they can ever repay.' Very handsome of 
 him, was it not ? Oh dear, Mrs. Boscawen, 
 how d'ye do ? little Walter, I hope, very well, 
 and Henry, my favourite, and baby too, I 
 never forget baby. Mr. Latimer, I won't 
 trouble you, you are always too good. What 
 do you think the Bishop said to Dr. Maxwell? 
 Oh ! Dr. Maxwell is here, to tell the story 
 himself. Never mind, you shall hear it now. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 105 
 
 Good news, you know, cannot travel too fast, and 
 evei-ybody says, I talk very fast indeed. * Of 
 all the clergymen in my diocese,' said his lord- 
 ship, ' Mr. Arthur Latimer is the one I should 
 fix upon, as a model !' Very handsome of 
 bim, was it not V* 
 
 " I am delighted, Miss Molesworth,'' said 
 Dr. Maxwell, and glancing at her father, and 
 speaking in a tone of solemn courtesy, " to see 
 our invaluable friend looking so extremely well. 
 — Without Mr. Molesworth, I know not what 
 we should do ! He is the very soul of our 
 sessions." 
 
 " And I am sure he is very sensible of the 
 invaluable assistance he receives from Dr. 
 Maxwell." 
 
 " You are too good. Miss Molesworth is 
 always too flattering, I certainly do whatever 
 
 F 5 
 
106 A YEAR AT 
 
 is in my power to support him. I aspire at 
 nothing higher than to be Mr. Molesworth*9 
 humble supporter. — That I believe is Mr. 
 Boscawen, is it not? I never had the gratifica- 
 tion of meeting him before. An extremely good 
 looking, gentlemanlike man, and a very fine 
 property too, I believe? Nothing is more 
 gratifying than to find fine property in the 
 possession of a very gentlemanlike man. Con- 
 siderable expectations too, I believe? It is 
 always gratifying to understand that a very 
 gentlemanlike man, with a fine property, has, 
 in addition, very considerable expectations. 
 Would you have the kindness to introduce me 
 to him ? Thank you, Miss Molesworth, you are 
 always so kind, you are always too kind, Miss 
 Molesworth." 
 
 Nothing was more gratifying to Dr. Max- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 107 
 
 well, at any time, than to be introduced to a 
 very gentlemanlike man, with a very line 
 property, and the gratification was always en- 
 hanced to Dr. Maxwell if the very gentleman- 
 like man, with a very fine property, had also 
 in addition, considerable expectations. As Mr. 
 Boscawen was a silent man, he was a fine 
 victim for the solemn flattery of the clerical 
 courtier. In the meantime, his wife, whom he 
 had impregnated with his mania, to make 
 connections, had seized upon Mrs. Boscawen, 
 and was delighting the fond mother with 
 all her familiar enquiries after the children 
 she had never seen, and the eager interest 
 with which she listened to all the narratives 
 of their exploits and their bon-mots. 
 
 Dinner, after many anxious glances of the 
 nervous Mrs. Gainsborough, at the drawing- 
 room door, was at length announced, a moment 
 
108 A Year at 
 
 of awkwardness to most persons, but to Mrs. 
 Gainsborough and her son, on this day, one of 
 peculiar anxiety, for her great soul was with 
 her two soups, and he was plotting to sit next 
 to Helen Molesworth. 
 
 Mrs. Gainsborough was supported by Mr. 
 Molesworth, and Mr. Boscawen. — The worthy 
 host had gallantly enfiladed himself with Mrs. 
 Boscawen, and Miss Molesworth, with whom 
 he had that good natured kind of flirtation, in 
 which good natured old men are indulged. 
 Mrs. Escott seated herself by Mr. Molesworth, 
 and Mrs. Latimer was placed by Mr. Boscawen, 
 followed by Dr. Maxwell, and opposed by Mr. 
 Chace. — Then the two sisters, Mrs. Maxwell, 
 and Miss Gainsborough, took their places, and 
 the two vacant ones were to be filled by Arthur 
 Latimer, and George Gainsborough. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 109 
 
 " I cannot sit by my sister," said the wily 
 son of the house, and glancing at Mrs. Max- 
 well. Latimer, who did not perceive that 
 there was a sister on each side, and was too 
 well bred to contest the point, yielded himself 
 to his mortifying fate, and had the pleasure of 
 seeing George Gainsborough seat himself im- 
 mediately afterwards, between his other sister 
 and Helen, make an affected exclamation of 
 wonder at his stupidity, at not perceiving the 
 arrangement was equally faulty, and talk to 
 Helen during the whole dinner. 
 
 The general conversation was not very re- 
 markable. Mrs. Gainsborough only talked to 
 her servants in an agitated and audible whisper. 
 Her anxious eye glanced in all directions, de- 
 tected everybody's wants, and anticipated every- 
 body's necessities. " Graham, soup to Miss 
 
110 A YEAR AT 
 
 Molesworth — Graham, Mrs. Latimer's plate- 
 here — there — no — yes — Spoon — knives — 
 remove the side dishes — hand the vegetables — 
 Where's Brown 1 — nobody should go out of the 
 room — Have not I always told you, if anybody 
 wants anything, ring the bell ! Never mind 
 Dr. Maxwell; Mr. Arthur Latimer has been 
 waiting this quarter of an hour. — Very wrong, 
 very provoking. — You are too kind, Mr. Bos- 
 cawen, I always carve myself; I cannot say 
 I admire the modern fashion of troubling one's 
 guests. — With great pleasure, Mr. Molesworth, 
 Sherry, if you please — perhaps you will take 
 Champaigne? Graham, Champaigne to Mr. 
 Molesworth — (the servant muttered a dissent) — 
 never mind, Mr. George, bring the Champaigne 
 directly." 
 
HARTLEBURY. Ill 
 
 " What is this dish before me, Mrs. 
 Gainsborough'?" enquired Mrs. Escott. 
 
 " Let me recommend it ; you will find it 
 very nice indeed. A Greek dish, a receipt of 
 George's, we call it Pate de Navarino." 
 
 " Only think," exclaimed Mrs. Escott, "pate 
 de Navarino ! Everybody must taste pace de 
 Navarino. Very nice indeed, quite excellent. 
 Mr. George, I am eating your dish. He is 
 talking so to Miss Molesworth, he does not hear 
 me. Mr. George Gainsborough, I am eating 
 your Greek dish, and find it very excellent. 
 You must give me the receipt for old Philip 
 Escott. I always send him a new receipt, 
 whenever I find anything very good. Well, I 
 must say, Mrs, Gainsborough, it was vei*y good 
 indeed in Mr. George remembering your 
 receipt book in Greece. Very handsome of 
 him, was it not, Mr. Molesworth V 
 
112 A YEAR AT 
 
 " I always understood that the Greeks never 
 eat anything but olives and anchovies," said 
 Mr. Molesworth, " and now that their groves 
 were cut down, and their fisheries destroyed, 
 that you stood a very good chance of going 
 without a dinner. And yet, I believe, Mr. 
 Chace, a patriot cannot live on air, like a cha- 
 melion, though he may resemble that animal 
 in some other respects." 
 
 Mr. Chace, who was a staunch Tory, smiled 
 a hearty assent, and took a glass of wine at the 
 same time with Mr. Molesworth, from mere 
 sympathy. 
 
 This new dish of George Gainsborough 
 was the peg on which the whole conversation 
 of the dinner was suspended, and Mrs. Gains- 
 borough, delighted at hearing a general clat- 
 ter of tongues, which was her definition of a 
 
HARTLEBURY. 113 
 
 pftrty going off well, was confirmed in her 
 opinion of the excellence of her cookery, and 
 secretly determined, that she would never give 
 a dinner without a pate de Navarino. 
 
 Mr. Gainsborough devoted himself to Mrs. 
 Boscawen, paid her a number of delicate little 
 attentions, and listened to all her stories about 
 the dear boys. 
 
 Arthur Latimer was particularly silent, and 
 more reserved even than usual, as he especially 
 disliked the Maxwells. The reverend head 
 - of that house, after in vain endeavouring to 
 maintain a cross-conversation with Mr. Bos- 
 cawen, consoled himself by pouring his praises of 
 his wife into the ready ear of her mother, Mrs. 
 Latimer. Mrs. Escott principally devot jd her- 
 self to Mr. Molesworth, but occasionally scat- 
 tered her agreeable observations to many a 
 nervous ear. 
 
114 A YEAR AT 
 
 There is no doubt, it must be confessed, it 
 cannot any longer be concealed, that a dinner 
 party among us country folks, must incur the 
 damnatory, though not very elegant, verdict 
 of modern society, — it is ** a great bore." A 
 party, consisting of individuals who have not 
 an idea in common, is bad enough, but a party 
 consisting of individuals, all whose ideas are in 
 common, is infinitely more wearisome. All the 
 guests are quite certain that, though they may 
 hear many things that are disagreeable, they 
 are equally sure of not hearing anything that 
 is new. Every possible combination of conver- 
 sation has been previously experienced, every 
 ti'ain of ideas has exploded a thousand times. 
 The doctrine of their association is demonstra- 
 ted every instant. You know exactly what 
 progeny will be born, to every particular opi- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 115 
 
 nion that is broached ; you are quite aware of 
 the following anecdote that will confirm the 
 truth, or illustrate the amusement of its pre- 
 ceding relative. Conversation proceeds with 
 the regulated precision of the machine for cal- 
 culating logarithms. But as the sublime 
 system of the universe, in spite of all its divine 
 regularity, is occasionally enlivened or deranged 
 by the startling phantom, and eccentric courses 
 of a comet, so an occasional visitor sometimes 
 diversifies these provincial banquets, and mar- 
 vellous is the effect which he produces. If he 
 be amusing, he is well repaid for his rare talent, 
 and its amiable exercise. His listeners are 
 universal. Unlike fine people in London, who 
 are always ashamed to appear amused, we 
 never think of concealing that we are deh'ghted. 
 And, after his departure, a very apotheosis 
 
116 A YEAR AT 
 
 awaits him. He is quoted, applauded, imi- 
 tated — his opinions become dogmas, his stories 
 traditions, his manners unquestioned fashion. 
 Certainly we are very amiable in the provinces, 
 but as everybody laughs at us, I suppose we 
 are very dull. 
 
 I think that in our less formal assemblies 
 we may perhaps be rather more captivating. 
 I often observe that a meeting which is unpre- 
 meditated, is often much more agreeable. A 
 summer evening stroll, which ends in " taking 
 tea" at a neighbour's, with the drawing-room 
 windows open, music, the perfume of flowers, 
 and rosy light — we are sometimes seen, I think, 
 to advantage under such circumstances, and 
 always look better in our shawls and bonnets 
 than in the elaborate coiffure, and splendid 
 costume of our banquets, where the dresses, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 117 
 
 like the fish, seem as if they had come down 
 from town express. 
 
 But see, Mrs. Gainsborough and her female 
 allies exchange significant glances, they rise, 
 and George Gainsborough runs round, and 
 opens the door, and says a sparkling nothing 
 to each fair passer-by. The magic door is shut, 
 and the host, taking up his two glasses, walks 
 up the room to his wife's vacated seat, arranges 
 the table before him, and, filling his goblet, 
 commences conversation. 
 
 " A very satisfactory paper to-day, Mr. 
 Molesworth, — full of alarming intelligence." 
 
 " Very satisfactory indeed," replied Mr. 
 Molesworth, " to be frightened out of one's life." 
 
 **I cannot decide between the two brothers," 
 said Mr. Gainsborough, " the more I think of 
 it, the more I am puzzled." 
 
118 
 
 A YEAR AT 
 
 ** It is fortunate that you are not placed 
 in the awkward predicament of being the 
 arbitrator." 
 
 "It is quite clear to me," observed Mr. 
 Chace, " that the Portuguese have settled the 
 question. I met a gentleman, the other day, 
 just come from Oporto, a regular liberal, and 
 he confessed to me that the people were to a 
 man for Miguel." 
 
 " Ah ! that is the Priests," said Mr. Gains- 
 borough ; " it is a priest-ridden nation." 
 
 "I don't see what business we have to inter- 
 fere," said Mr. Boscawen to Dr. Maxwell, " I 
 don't see that it is our affair at all." 
 
 *' Very just !" exclaimed Dr. Maxwell, shak- 
 ing his solemn head, " I never talk politics in 
 this house, but still I cannot withhold my assent 
 to so remarkably just an observation !" 
 
HARTLEBURY. 119 
 
 " I wish there were more priest-ridden 
 nations," said Mr. Molesworth, "for my part, 
 I would sooner be priest* ridden than mob- 
 ridden." 
 
 " A mob is a tremendous thing, indeed," 
 said Mr. Chace, " I shall never forget the mob 
 at Bohun Colliery. You remember that, Mr. 
 Latimer ? We gave them a charge, eh V 
 
 " I remember your gallantry, Chace, and 
 I hope, if it ever be my misfortune to find my- 
 self insuch a predicament again, I may also 
 find myself at your right hand." 
 
 " What sort of a mob is a Greek mob, 
 George ?" enquired the father, drawing out his 
 modest son. 
 
 "Oh! they were always a set of riotous 
 fellows in the time of Pericles," said Mr. 
 Molesworth. 
 
120 A YEAR AT 
 
 ** Pericles !" mused Mr. Gainsborough 
 ** Pericles was before your time, I think, 
 George 1 He knew Colcotroni very intimately," 
 continued Mr. Gainsborough, in a sotto voce, 
 to his friend on his right hand. 
 
 Arthur Latimer good naturedly passed 
 the wine, to cover the blunder ; and enquired 
 Boscawen's opinion of some improvements in 
 the neighbourhood. 
 
 After a long discussion on the weather, 
 poaching, and petty sessions, together with an 
 episode on a new bridge, and county rates, 
 coffee was announced, and the gentlemen 
 entered the drawing-room in the middle of a 
 duet between Mrs. Maxwell and Miss Gains- 
 borough. 
 
 Mr. George Gainsborough soon fluttered 
 round Miss Molesworth, who was sitting by 
 
HARTLEBURY. 121 
 
 Mrs. Latimer, and finally seated himself by 
 her side. Mr. Molesworth always required a 
 rubber. Mr. Chace, Mr. Gainsborough, and 
 Mr. Boscawen, were his companions. Dr. 
 Maxwell devoted himself to Mrs. Boscawen, 
 with great unction — unhappy Arthur Latimer 
 was obHged to be amusing to a coterie of 
 petticoats. 
 
 The singing went on, — Mr. Molesworth 
 liked singing with his rubber. — He was a good 
 player, but very gallant, and often indulged 
 in momentary badinage with the ladies during 
 the deals. It was observed, that he always 
 said something very smart to them whenever 
 he gained the odd trick, or turned up an 
 honor. 
 
 Mr. George Gainsborough's guitar soon 
 appeared. He was so kind also as to exhibit 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 HARTLEBUEY. 
 
 some of his oriental costumes, and was at 
 length even tempted to yield to the unanimous 
 solicitation of the ladies, and enfold his com- 
 placent form in them. All this was very divert- 
 ing. — And when the party broke up, George 
 Gainsborough had the pleasure of attending 
 Miss Molesworth to her carriage, and being 
 assured by her, en-passant, that he made it 
 quite amusing, and that it was the most agree- 
 able evening she had spent for a considerable 
 time. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A DEATH-BED SCENE. 
 
 A SOLEMN thing it is to kneel by the bed of 
 death, to feel, that in a moment of time, even 
 while we think the thought, the creature may 
 be summoned into the presence of his Creator. 
 The trial is over — the judgment is at hand. 
 It is indeed an awful scene : receive the admo- 
 nitions it conveys to you — refuse not entrance 
 to the good resolves which pour into your 
 
 a 2 
 
124 A YEAR AT 
 
 subdued soul. Determine to seek God in your 
 youth, if you have yet your youth to give him : 
 and lay not aside, for his service, the scanty 
 portion of an infirm old age, which you may 
 never reach. Lay up in your hearts this high 
 wisdom, and you will find that there is a 
 sorrow to be preferred to joy ; a sadness 
 of the countenance which maketh the heart 
 glad . 
 
 Some such thoughts as these were passing 
 in the mind of Arthur Latimer, as he entered 
 the house, in search of Helen. He passed, 
 rapidly across the hall, to the room in which 
 she was usually to be found in the morning. 
 As he touched the handle of the door, he was 
 startled by the sounds of merriment from 
 within ; he quietly entered, and the inmates 
 were all so pre-occupied, that it was some 
 
HARTLEBURY. 125 
 
 moments before any of them were conscious 
 of his appearance. 
 
 On a sofa, Mr. Boscawen was wagino- a 
 war of cushions with his two sons, who 
 were with shrieks of merriment, strenu- 
 ously endeavouring to smother Papa. At 
 the piano, Mrs. Boscawen was endeavouring 
 with George Gainsborough's assistance, to 
 master the mysteries of a Romaic song, while 
 Helen was seated at a table near to them, 
 copying music. Mr. Gainsborough's attention 
 seemed equally divided between the ladies ; 
 for he turned every moment to Helen, to apo- 
 logize for his vile scratches, which he feared 
 were giving her a great deal of trouble. They 
 really were but mere indications for his own 
 use — he never expected to have them so 
 honored. And then he was obliged to hum 
 
126 A YEAR AT 
 
 the air to her, that she might fully compre- 
 hend it. 
 
 Helen suddenly looked up from her em- 
 ployment and saw Arthur Latimer ; — he 
 looked very grave, and beckoned her to the 
 window. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Helen. 
 " I have come with a message to you 
 Helen, a petition." 
 
 " A petition which you bring I am sure to 
 grant : who is it from ? " 
 
 " From Kate Medley. She wishes to see 
 you.'' 
 
 *' Surely, she need not petition for a visit 
 which I pay nearly every day." 
 
 *' You do not pay such a visit as this, every 
 day, Helen. This will be your last visit to 
 Kate." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 127 
 
 ** Is she then so much worse ? '* eagerly- 
 enquired Helen. 
 
 " A great change has certainly taken place 
 
 andTrueman does not think she can survive eight 
 
 and-forty hours. She is very desirous to see you 
 
 again, but I should not have come to fetch 
 
 you, had I not full confidence in your good 
 
 sense. But after all, perhaps you had better 
 
 not go!" added Mr. Latimer, looking round. 
 
 " What has changed your opinion of my 
 
 ffood sense within the last five minutes Ar- 
 
 thur?" asked Helen, a little reproachfully. 
 
 *' Why do you think now I had better not go, 
 
 when you have taken the trouble to come to 
 
 fetch me?" 
 
 "You seem so much engaged ; your thoughts 
 are on such different objects, that perhaps," — 
 Here Mr. Latimer hesitated. 
 
128 A YEAR AT 
 
 " Indeed Arthur you do me great in- 
 justice," said Helen, with much feeling. " I 
 can think of nothing now but poor Kate ; I 
 should be miserable if I did not go to her 
 directly." 
 
 There was no resisting, — no possibility of 
 doubting Helen's sincere feeling ; and that he 
 had ever, even for a moment, doubted her 
 willingness, was a fresh charge to be laid to 
 the account of George Gainsborough, whose 
 inopportune presence had somewhat disturbed 
 Mr. Latimer's philosophy. 
 
 Helen called for her shawl, and having 
 said all that was proper to her visitor, whom 
 she confided to the care of Mrs. Boscawen, 
 she hastened into the village. Mr. Latimer 
 left her at the cottage door. The lower room 
 was unoccupied, and Helen passed up the 
 
HARTLEBURY. 129 
 
 Stairs, and gently approaching the bed of the 
 invalid, she softly undrew the curtain. 
 
 " Kate," she said, in a low voice, fearful 
 of startling the poor girl. *' Kate I have come 
 to see you." 
 
 The tones of her voice roused the sufferer ; 
 but she could only acknowledge the kindness 
 by her looks : she could not speak, and Helen 
 perceived she was labouring under a violent 
 and almost convulsive difficulty of breathing, 
 which had lately much affected her. She 
 dropped the curtain, fearful to increase the 
 excitement of the invalid. 
 
 Soon Helen heard below the step of Mrs. 
 Wells, the good woman to whose care Kate 
 was entrusted. She descended the stairs to 
 speak to her. 
 
 *' Ah ! are you here Miss ? It's been so 
 
 G 6 
 
130 A YEAR AT 
 
 hot to-day that I have let the fire out, so I 
 had just run into the next cottage to get a few 
 lighted embers ; for I thought may be, poor 
 Kate will be better for something warm. She 
 has been longing to see you all the morning, 
 but she is much too bad now to be able to say 
 a word to you. It is a pity you should have 
 had the trouble of coming." 
 
 *'She will be better soon I hope," said 
 Helen, " I will wait here awhile." 
 
 Miss Molesworth busied herself in making 
 up the fire, while Mrs. Wells gave some com- 
 posing medicine to her patient, who, after 
 taking it, soon fell into a torpor. Helen seated 
 herself by the bed side, and leaning back in 
 the chair, was fearful almost of breathing. 
 And as she gazed on that faded countenance, 
 still beautiful in the hour of death, her thoughts 
 
HARTLEBURY. 131' 
 
 turned in sorrow to the mournful history of 
 the sufferer. 
 
 Kate Medley was once the beauty and the 
 pride of Hartlebury. Her father who was a 
 wild young man, enlisted for a soldier shortly 
 after his marriage, and never was again heard 
 of: and his wife, a veiy young girl he had 
 brought from a distant place, pined away in 
 the midst of strangers, and died almost imme- 
 diately after the birth of Kate. Thus com- 
 pletely an orphan, she was brought up the 
 child of parish bounty ; but instead of belong- 
 ing to no one, she was a subject of common 
 interest to all. There was much in her friend- 
 less situation to excite the compassion of these 
 simple people ; but there was also a rare 
 beauty and peculiar character in the child, 
 which unconsciously affected them. Not an 
 
132 A YEAR AT 
 
 old person in the village passed her without an 
 encouraging nod, or a kind word, and amongst 
 the young it was a dire offence which all 
 resented, to say an unkind word to poor little 
 Katie. 
 
 Nothing could spoil Katie's good heart; 
 but it must be acknowledged that all this con- 
 sideration made her at times a little wilful. 
 Mrs. Molesworth who took a real interest in 
 her, was most anxious to prevent the ill con- 
 sequences of this misjudging kindness, which 
 she could not however condemn; but Dame 
 Harrald even seemed blind on these occasions. 
 Wherever Kate was, she ruled. Among her 
 play-mates the boys were devoted to her, and 
 the girls never envied her ; for she was gene- 
 rous, and good-natured, and ever ready to 
 share with them the gifts that were showered 
 
HARTLEBURY. 133 
 
 on her. And n imerous were Kate's presents ; 
 the first bunch oJ primroses, the first handful 
 of violets, the longest string of daisies, and the 
 greatest number of birds' eggs, were always 
 offered up to Kate. 
 
 Thus passed her days of childhood ; nor 
 did the interest she created cease when she 
 grew up into a most beautiful woman. She 
 had many lovers, some even the sons of 
 farmers: but she rejected them all for the 
 sake of Harry Drewe. Every body except 
 the rejected, agreed that she had chosen well. 
 Harry Drewe was the handsomest young man 
 in the parish, the best cricketer, and the best 
 son. He was also well to do in the world ; 
 for he was an only child, and his father kept 
 the shop, a most flourishing concern at Hartle- 
 bury. The old man if he were rich, was also 
 
134 A YEAR AT 
 
 prudent, and he thought his son too young to 
 settle ; so that our lovers were not to think of 
 marrying for a year or two. But who could 
 be happier than Kate, caressed by all, with a 
 devoted lover, and the kindest friend in the 
 world in good old Mrs. Drewe, who loved 
 her already almost as much as she did 
 Harry ! 
 
 It was a beautiful summer evening, and 
 the setting sun poured a golden light on our 
 picturesque village, gay groups of animated 
 cricketers, and eager spectators who were 
 spread over the rural green. — The beauty of 
 the scene startled from his reverie a young man 
 who was carelessly pursuing his evening ride. 
 He stopped to gaze, and soon the animated 
 ganie rivetted his attention ; for he was him- 
 self the most scientific of bowlers, and the most 
 
HARTLEBURY. 135 
 
 skilful^of batters. The villagers touched their 
 hats to him, for he was known to many as a 
 Mr. Mountenej^ who was residing with a cler- 
 gyman four or five miles from Hartlebury. 
 
 Each good hit made, catch missed, or well- 
 pitched ball, equally excited Mr. Mountenev's 
 enthusiasm : he thought he would offer to take 
 a bat. "These fellows," he mentally exclaimed, 
 as he rested on his saddle, " have really a 
 Tery good notion of the game : I am sure in 
 a month I could make them play quite re- 
 spectably. A little good fielding is all they 
 want." 
 
 But his generous intentions of instruction 
 were speedily put to flight. However, en pas- 
 sant, I can assure him that they would have 
 been very ill- received. A good rustic game 
 of cricket depends entirely on pure physical 
 
136 A YEAR AT 
 
 force, all strong hits and long runs, and is a 
 very different affair to the skilful handling of 
 the bat, and the scientific playing with the ball 
 of our brothers at Eton and Winchester. 
 
 The two systems do not work well together, 
 I speak from knowledge, for I have seen it 
 tried. I have said that Mr. Mounteney soon 
 forgot all his intentions — his ruminations were 
 disturbed by a noisy troop of villagers, gather- 
 ing round a young man, who was eagerly 
 relating the cause of his speedy discomfiture. 
 His most interested auditor was a beautiful 
 young girl, to whom the orator often appealed 
 in support of his facts. Mr. Mounteney drew 
 near, that he also might hear all the interest- 
 ing particulars — of how the sun had dazzled 
 the eyes of the defeated hero, — and how, at 
 that moment, Will Johnson had bowled a regu- 
 
hartlebury. 137 
 
 lar grounder, — and how finally and fatally, 
 the ball had struck the wicket. Mr. Moun- 
 teney showed so much proper interest, and 
 asked such pertinent questions, that the beau- 
 tiful girl herself turned to him to explain all 
 the detail, which he was evidently so worthy 
 of knowing. He entirely agreed with her 
 view of the case ; and how could he do other- 
 wise, when' Kate throwing back her auburn 
 tresses, looked up in his face with her speaking 
 blue eyes. 
 
 From this day, for some weeks Mr. Moun- 
 teney might be seen every evening on the 
 cricket ground. But ere long he perceived 
 that he was looked upon with suspicious eyes. 
 The young men regarded him as an interloper 
 who made Harry Drewe jealous, and conse- 
 quently play a very bad game, and the old men 
 
138 A YEAR AT 
 
 shook their heads, and feared he meant no good. 
 So he came no more openly to the village green, 
 but late in the evenings he might still be met 
 sauntering in the green lanes, or reclining on 
 the banks of the meandering stream. Kate 
 became spiritless and absent, Harry Drewe 
 passionate and capricious. Here were ele- 
 ments of discord. The lovers quarrelled, they 
 quarrelled more than once, until the maddened 
 temper of Harry Drewe incited him to sever 
 the contract for ever. 
 
 The next morning, Kate had disappeared : 
 the most diligent search could find no trace 
 of her, and Mr. Mounteney who was still in 
 the neighbourhood, denied in the most positive 
 manner that he had the slightest knowledge of 
 her flight. 
 
 While these misfortunes clouded the usual 
 
HARTLEBTTRY. l39 
 
 serenity of Hartlebury, the affectionate and 
 active friend who was the unfailing resource 
 in all troubles was on his bed of death. The 
 sudden and fatal illness of the Rector had over- 
 whelmed almost with equal sorrow the Moles- 
 worths, and the Latimers, and their poor 
 neighbours sympathising in their affliction, and 
 respecting their grief, had hesitated to intrude 
 upon them this little history, which they never 
 guessed would end so fatally. These simple 
 minded people could not understand poor Kate's 
 impetuosity, which their own indulgence had 
 nurtured. 
 
 When therefore the intelligence at last 
 reached Mr. Molesworth and his daughter, 
 they were painfully shocked. Kate had been 
 a favourite of one whose memory they both 
 adored, and Helen's tears flowed fast as she 
 
140 A VEAR AT 
 
 reproached herself with having betrayed her 
 darling mother's confidence, in thus suffering 
 her protegee to fall into such cruel snares. 
 Mr. Molesworth shared her sorrow, and en- 
 deavoured to mitigate it by the most active 
 search. The Clergyman with whom Mr. Moun- 
 teney had resided used every means in his 
 power to assist them, but every efibrt was 
 equally vain, and when after the lapse of some 
 time they learnt that Mr. Mounteney had ac- 
 cepted an appointment in India, the only clue 
 by which at last they had hoped to discover 
 Kate seemed lost for ever. 
 
 This fatal event for a long time occupied 
 the villagers of Hartlebury, it was long their 
 morning wonder, and their evening lamenta- 
 tion. Unlike the inhabitants of a bustling 
 city, whose teeming day brings forth a thous- 
 
HARTLEBURY, 141 
 
 and catastrophes, where the bell tolls, and the 
 funerals glide along the street, and no one 
 thinks of death, these honest people felt all 
 their sympathies enlisted in the unaccustomed 
 misery, and there was one amongst them, the 
 color of whose life was for ever changed. 
 
 When the first days of Kate's flight were 
 past, when there was no longer any clue to 
 trace, when all pursuit was found to be hopeless, 
 and all search vain, Harry Drewe gave him- 
 self up to all the abandonment of grief. But 
 he had a bold spirit, and he contemned him- 
 self, and thought all others would despise him, 
 for such womanish wailing. He endeavoured 
 to rouse himself, but his heart was heavy, and 
 he felt all the lassitude that bitter grief brings. 
 He tried to forget himself, and his hollow 
 laugh resounded from the village Alehouse, 
 
142 A YEAR AT 
 
 and he sought excitement amongst "wild and 
 desperate companions. Arthur Latimer beheld 
 him with compassion, and sought by mild and 
 tender remonstrances to turn his mind aright. 
 Poor Harry made a thousand good resolves, but 
 his new companions laughed them all to scorn, 
 and this fine spirit seemed about to sink for 
 ever into a vicious drunkard. But Providence 
 works its ends by means unforeseen by u&. 
 Soon Harry Drewe was on the bed of sickness, 
 his wild irregular mode of life, his state of 
 unnatural excitement, produced a raging and 
 virulent fever. For many days his recovery 
 was utterly despaired of, but at last he did re- 
 cover, a changed, and altered man. His beauty 
 and his youth seemed to have flown together, 
 he was serious, for he could not foro^et Kate, 
 and he no longer sought to drown the melan- 
 
HARTLEBURY. l43 
 
 choly* remembrance in riot and debauchery. 
 But he endeavoured to carry his grief with a 
 patient endurance, and to subdue it by constant 
 occupation. Mr. Latimer, strengthened him ia 
 all his good resolves, by his patient friendship 
 and advice, and Mr. Molesworth in confidins: 
 a small portion of land to his care, encouraged 
 him to exertion. Thus two years had rapidly 
 converted the high«spirited Harry Drewe, the 
 leader of all village gaiety, into a quiet domestic 
 thriving farmer. But his parents were happy 
 again in their child. 
 
 At last, when every one had ceased to 
 wonder, to expect, or even to hope, news came 
 of Kate. Mr. Latimer received a letter from 
 the clergyman of a distant village, to inform 
 him that some weeks previously a young 
 woman travelling, he believed to Hartlebury 
 
144 A YEAR AT 
 
 had been detained in his parish, by a severe 
 attack of ilhiess. For some time he had ex- 
 pected her to die, but she was now better again, 
 and again eager lo proceed home. He thought 
 it his duty to inform Mr. Latimer of the cir- 
 cumstance, as she might have some friends who 
 would be willing to assist her on her journey. 
 Not that she seemed in want of money, but 
 she was so weak and exhausted, that it was 
 perilous for her to travel alone, as she might 
 again sink under the fatigue of the journey. 
 Her days were numbered, and it seemed but 
 her eager energy to see her home that stayed 
 her spirit on its flight. The writer added that 
 she was not aware of his sending this letter. 
 She was so averse to speaking of herself, or 
 her friends, that it was only during the last day 
 or two that he had learnt sufficient to write this. 
 
HARTLEBURY, 145 
 
 No one at Hartlebury could a moment doubt 
 that this poor sufferer was their Kate. Her 
 affectionate yearning after her home, her re- 
 solute eagerness to see it again before she died, 
 proved that she was still in some things un- 
 chano:ed. Mr. Latimer hastened to arrano'e the 
 most easy and expeditious manner of her con- 
 veyance, and Mrs. Wells a good woman who 
 had a quiet civil husband, and whose children 
 were all out in the world, agreed with Miss 
 Molesworth to receive her into her cottage, 
 and to nurse and protect her. 
 
 In a few days Kate Medley was again at 
 Hartlebury. But how changed! There was no 
 vestige of her former self but in the eager and 
 impetuous love she felt towards every one 
 around her, even to the least forgiving of her 
 friends. She came with the reviving spring, 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 A YEAR AT 
 
 and the bright days, and the kind faces cheered 
 her, and lent her strength. But it was only 
 for a time, it was but too soon evident that all 
 that was left for kindness and friendship was 
 to smooth the pillow of death. Kate wished to 
 die, and her patient and unmurmuring waiting 
 for death was a beautiful lesson to those who 
 had known her in her days of health and 
 wilfulness. 
 
 Helen visited her almost daily, and as she 
 now sat by her bedside perhaps for the last 
 time, she felt s^id and oppressed 
 
 A slight movement of the invalid caught her 
 listening ear, she gently undrew the curtain, 
 and the poor girl looked on her and smiled. 
 Helen took her hand, and knelt by the bedside. 
 
 " My dear Kate, what do you want of me ?" 
 she asked, in the softest, kindest voice. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 147 
 
 Kate pressed her hand, as she answered, 
 " I could not go in peace without thanking you 
 again. The Lord will bless you, I cannot, 
 cannot," her words failed her. 
 
 '' Hush," said Helen, " you must not exert 
 yourself." 
 
 Kate turned upon her the most seraphic 
 look. In a few moments she closed her eyes. 
 Helen thought she slept, and as she held her 
 hand she feared to move, even to rise from her 
 knees, and so hiding her face in the bed, in 
 prayer she endeavoured to still her emotions. 
 Kate breathed a gentle sigh, her last breath. 
 At this moment Mrs. Wells came into the room, 
 she saw that it was all over, and gently touch- 
 ing Helen she whispered, " you had better go 
 down below, Miss." 
 
 " I fear to wake her," said Helen. 
 
 h2 
 
148 A YEAR AT 
 
 " She will never wake again," said the old 
 woman, and she raised Helen from the ground; 
 '*pray go down stairs Miss." 
 
 Helen descended the stairs, and throwing 
 herself into a chair, she covered her face with 
 her handkerchief, and gave way to the feeling 
 she had so long repressed. She wept long and 
 unrestrainedly. 
 
 A sympathising voice roused her, she looked 
 up. Arthur Latimer was gazing on her with 
 the deepest emotion. 
 
 " Dearest Helen," he said, " I fear I ought 
 not to have brought you here." 
 
 " Do not say so, I never should have for- 
 given myself if I had not come." 
 
 He drew her arm within his, and led her 
 from the cottage towards her home. 
 
 " Dear Helen," he said as he parted from 
 
HARTLEBURY. J49 
 
 her in the Hall, " go you at once to the quiet- 
 ness of your room away from my noisy nephews, 
 you will alarm your father if you are not more 
 composed by the time we meet at dinner." 
 
CHAPTER XIL 
 
 IN WHICH IS ANNOUNCED MOST UN- 
 EXPECTED INTELLIGENCE. 
 
 Pleasure however innocent tmd delightful, 
 is not eternal, the reflection is mortifying, but 
 let us not forget that our griefs also are not 
 interminable. And now our friends at Hartle- 
 bury were suffering the gentle sorrow of 
 parting from their loved visitors. 
 
 Mr. Boscawen, who was a great builder and 
 
HARTLEBURV. 151 
 
 a great planter, having now exhausted all Mr. 
 Molesworth's buildings and plantations, began 
 to think that he must be sadly wanted amongst 
 his own. " Charlotte, my dear, you forget 
 what a large party we are, we shall tire out 
 our kind friends, we must be thinking of going 
 home" — was an observation which he made 
 at the close of a visit of six weeks, and which 
 each following day was repeated, and each 
 time in a more determined tone. So at last 
 the hour of departure was fixed, and now it 
 was near at hand. For the last time had the 
 young Boscawens their scamper on the breezy 
 common with Helen's favourite dog, for the 
 last time had they taken their ride round the 
 paddock on Helen's old poney, which now 
 spent its life in gambolling about, except 
 when its services were required by such 
 
152 A YEAR AT 
 
 cavaliers ; for the last time had they been 
 to thank Dame Harrold for their worsted socks ; 
 and for the last time had they made 
 their bows to Mrs. Collins' fair daug-hters. 
 To - morrow they were to set out on their 
 journey. 
 
 This morning had been gray and cloudy, 
 and Mr. Boscawen who was an inveterate bro- 
 ther of the angle, had early sallied forth for 
 another day's sport in the Hartlebury preserves. 
 Towards noon Helen, accompained by his two 
 sons, went in search of him. Her youtiiful com- 
 panions were in the highest and noisiest spirits, 
 quite enchanted to be permitted each to take 
 hold of cousin Helen's hand. 
 
 They proceeded along the velvet margin 
 of the stream which wandering in fantastic 
 turns, through the smiling meads of Hartle- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 153 
 
 bury, glided into the glades of Bohun Park. 
 The children stopped every minute to gather 
 the wild flowers they were treading under their 
 feet, and to pluck whole handfuls of the luxu- 
 riant daisies. When they were tired of stoop- 
 ing, they began to look out for their Papa. 
 Henry the volatile one and the wit, who was 
 eager to be the first to make the discovery, 
 fancied every minute that he saw him, 
 while Walter more slow and sage, re- 
 proved his younger brother for mistaking 
 a broken post, or an old stump of a tree, 
 for their Papa. At last a sudden turn of 
 the river shewed them Mr. Boscawen in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Who is that?" said Helen. 
 
 " Papa ! papa ! '* exclaimed the children, 
 shouting and clapping their hands. 
 
 h6 
 
164 A YEAR AT 
 
 There was Mr. Boscawen in his fishing 
 costume and his tight jacket, and his wicker 
 basket slung round his waist, apparently at 
 that moment intently occupied in landing some 
 weighty prey, for he was standing at a little 
 distance from the stream, carefully drawing in 
 his line, while his attendant stooping down 
 even with the edge of the bank, was engaged 
 with the landing net. Helen slackened her 
 pace, that her noisy companions might not 
 disturb his sport. It was with difficulty she 
 could restrain them, and when they were 
 permitted to advance, they rushed forward, 
 each claiming their fii-st peep into the 
 basket. 
 
 At this moment the sun, which had been 
 all the day veiled in clouds, burst forth, and so 
 Mr. Boscawen gave up his fishing to his sons, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 155 
 
 and havins: sent home the fruits of his morn- 
 ing's diversion, he set about instructing his 
 boisterous young pupils in this dexterous art. 
 But soon throwing; the line de^-enerated into 
 throwing stones. The children were far more 
 delighted in watching the spreading circles 
 over the surface of the water, and scarcely less 
 so, in seeking for the means of producing them. 
 It was difficult to obtain ammunition enough 
 to please them. 
 
 While they were thus busily employed, 
 Helen who was weiiried by her walk sought 
 the inviting shade of a broad oak, which at 
 some little distance spread its wide branches. 
 The sun was now shining forth in full glory, 
 and every thing was still, save the ever ceaseless 
 hum of insects, and every now and then, 
 the drowsy tinkling of some distant sheep- 
 
156 A YEAR AT 
 
 bell, or the bleating of an anxious dam, who 
 was seeking its straying offspring. She fell 
 into the most agreeable reverie, and some time 
 had elapsed, when she became suddenly con- 
 scious that some one on horseback seemed 
 most anxiously beckoning to her from the 
 other side of the hedge. It was not her 
 father or Arthur Latimer, who could it 
 be ? As she advanced, she discovered to 
 her infinite astonishment, that it was Mr. 
 Chace. 
 
 " My dear Madam," said Mr. Chace, 
 *' ten thousand apologies, pray excuse the 
 liberty I have taken, but at such a mo- 
 ment I could not pass you without a 
 word." 
 
 Helen looked at him. Serious, matter of 
 fact Mr. Chace, appeared to be labouring under 
 
HARTLEBURY. 157 
 
 a great state of excitement, his cheek was 
 flushed, his voice was hurried. 
 
 What is the matter thought Helen, 
 there cannot be another insurrection in 
 the Bohun Colliery, he looks too joyful, 
 
 " I have great news for you, Madam," 
 continued Mr. Chace. " I should certainly 
 have called at Hartlebury to inform Mr. 
 Molesworth of it, as it is befitting I should 
 do, but when you hear it, you will not 
 be surprised that as yet I have not had 
 time. Would you believe it. Miss Moles- 
 worth ? Mr. Bohun is coming to live amongst 
 us." 
 
 " Is it possible?" said Helen. 
 
 " Quite possible I assure you. Here is his 
 letter," said Mr. Chace, burying his hand deep 
 into his pocket in search of it. " It only 
 
158 A YEAR AT 
 
 arrived this morning, — it is great news, is it 
 not ? " 
 
 *' And does he give any reason for his 
 sudden determination ? " enquired Miss Moles- 
 worth. 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " And I suppose then we are to be so 
 grateful to him for his coming, that we are 
 not to trouble our heads about his reason for 
 doing so." 
 
 Mr. Chace laughed. "Why, Ma'am, it 
 certainly will be a great thing for the county. 
 It is a very short letter you see," said Mr. 
 Chace, unfolding it. " No, he gives no reason 
 for coming, but you see here he says that he 
 shall soon follow his letter. And here you 
 see," said Mr. Chace, pointing to a particular 
 paragraph, " he begs that he may find no 
 
HARTLEBURY. 159 
 
 work-people in the Castle, when he arrives : 
 you see, he says, ' Let me have the pleasure 
 of finding my home, as if I had only left it 
 last vreek.' So you may believe that I have 
 a great deal to do." 
 
 "Well Mr. Chace," replied Helen, "I 
 am sure that Mr. Bohun ought to be indeed 
 grateful to you, that such an unreasonable 
 desire can be gratified, but I will not de- 
 tain you now, you must be so much engaged. 
 Good bye, and thank you for stopping to tell 
 me the wonderful news." 
 
 Mr. Chace galloped away. 
 ** My dear Mr. Boscawen," said Helen, 
 as she hastened to the group who were still 
 occupied at the river ; " My dear Mr. Bos- 
 cawen, you must not go away to-morrow, you 
 
160 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 must stay and see a most wonderful person. 
 Mr. Bohun has signified his gracious intention 
 of dwelling amongst us." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE UNEXPECTED INTELLIGENCE 
 PROVES TRUE. 
 
 The intelligence that Mr. Bohun was about 
 to return to England, to reside in his long- 
 deserted Castle, soon spread from one end of 
 the County to the other. It was a subject of 
 universal congratulation. But nowhere did it 
 excite so much real interest as at Hartlebury. 
 Their immediate vicinity to Bohun involved 
 them in some of its evils, which Arthur Lati- 
 
162 A YEAR AT 
 
 nier hoped that Mr. Bohun's arrival would 
 mitigate. 
 
 The Minister of Bohun was an old and an 
 infirm man, who never left his house, but to 
 shufile through one service on the Sunday ; 
 the consequence was that ignorant fanatics 
 usurped his neglected post. The people of 
 England are essentially a devout people. 
 Heavy therefore is the sin of that careless 
 pastor, who heedless of the great charge com- 
 mitted to him, permits his unguarded flock to 
 fall into the snares of the ignorant and the 
 designing. 
 
 Poor Mr. Chace was too full of bustle 
 to be able to think even of what he had to do. 
 In a few weeks he had to furnish the stables, 
 and to complete the household on the most 
 extensive scale, for Mr. Bohun had written 
 
HARILEBURY. 163 
 
 that he should bring no servants with him, but 
 
 a valet, an Eno^lishman, vrhom he had latelv 
 
 taken into his service. 
 
 At length Mr. Chace rested on his oars — 
 
 Mrs. Brand declared all things perfect, and in 
 order, and soon the bonfires blazed, the bells 
 rang their gayest peal, . and the poor were 
 feasted. 
 
 Aubrey Bohun was again in the Castle of 
 his fathers. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE OWNER OF THE CASTLE. 
 
 Aubrey Bohun combined a fine poetical tem- 
 perament, with a great love of action. The 
 combination is rare. He was a man of genius. 
 But with great powers he possessed what does 
 not always fall to the lot of their possessors, — 
 a great destiny. If a theory hitherto erro- 
 neous, had induced him to waste his youth in 
 what some would style unprofitable and un- 
 
HARTLEBURY. ^^O 
 
 satisfactory pleasure, but which he would de- 
 fine as that unbounded pursuit of experience 
 without which no powers are available ; so 
 fortunate was his lot in life, that at this mo- 
 ment with energy unsubdued though matured, 
 a career was at his command in which he 
 might redeem those years that had been wasted, 
 or exercise the wisdom which had been ac- 
 quired. As he now gazed upon his rich pos- 
 sessions, and thought upon his vast resources, 
 did he grieve that thirty years of his life had 
 flown away, apparently without producing a 
 result? No: to sigh over the unchangeable 
 past was not in the nature of Aubrey Bohun. 
 — The exciting present was the world in 
 which he ever lived, and remorse and re- 
 gret were phantoms that never disturbed his 
 reveries. 
 
166 A YEAR AT 
 
 Within the walls of his castle, surrounded 
 by its massive grandeur and its feudal magni- 
 ficence, what brilliant and stirring scenes rose 
 before his creative imagination ! If he did not 
 with Miss Molesworth exactly project a tourn- 
 ament, his thoughts were equally chivalric. 
 Devoted vassals rose up in numbers around 
 him, his willing tools to some great, though as 
 yet indefinite end. He knew he could work 
 upon mens' minds, he felt he had all those 
 powers of eloquence that could excite and 
 command. 
 
 Nor did he over-rate his abilities. His san- 
 guine disposition was the consequence of his 
 energetic nature. It had indeed often de- 
 ceived him ; but when he had failed, reflection 
 convinced him that the failure had arisen from 
 supposing that his instruments were as efficient 
 
HARTLEBURY. 167 
 
 as the ideas with which he endeavoured to 
 inspire them. 
 
 Many reasons had united to induce him to 
 return to his long-neglected country, but none 
 had influenced him more strongly than the 
 passing of the Reform Bill, that great and 
 misconceived event, which already its enemies 
 have ceased to dread, and its friends have 
 begun to abuse. Our eager cry for Reform had 
 created a great sensation among our Conti- 
 nental neighbours. Mistaking our habits, and 
 ignorant of our customs, they had totally mis- 
 conceived that state of agitation which our 
 newspapers so forcibly depicted, and England, 
 that envied country, in a state of anarchy and 
 confusion, was an image too consolatory not to 
 be worshipped. Mr. Bohun must be pardoned, 
 if a long residence in the midst of the enslaved 
 
168 A YEAR AT 
 
 and repining descendants of heroes, had made 
 him forget the peculiar characteristics of his 
 own free-born countrymen. At the prospect of 
 insurrection, he turned with more affection 
 towards a country he had hitherto condemned 
 as too uneventful for a man of genius. The im- 
 mortality of a season, that fame that is the 
 guerdon of the happy invention of a waistcoat, 
 or the ingenious creation of a carriage was 
 somewhat too limited for his ambition, but 
 now he felt that all was stirring, and with his 
 great stake and influence in the country, he 
 should no longer be wanting. 
 
 With him to will and to act were one. 
 He returned, and astonished every body. 
 
 Mr. Chace met his principal, with all the 
 consciousness of having done his duty ; he was 
 eager to explain his arrangements : he was 
 
HARTLEBURY. 169 
 
 surprised to find Mr. Bohun a complete man 
 of business. If he shrank a little from minute 
 detail, he far surpassed his agent in clear and 
 rapid perception. Gifted with a rare memory, 
 he confounded poor Mr. Chace with the velo- 
 city of his acquisition. In a few days Mr. 
 Bohun was acquainted with the names and 
 characters of his principal tenants, — could 
 judiciously approve, — and even ventured to 
 suggest. 
 
 The first to welcome the long lost Lord of 
 Bohun to his home were Mr. Molesworth and 
 Mr. Latimer. An early visit was dictated by 
 their feeling of what was right, but it was an 
 intercourse from which they expected no plea- 
 sure. He must be full of foreign affectations — 
 a Virtuoso or a Carbonaro, both equally detes- 
 table to Mr. Molesworth, whose acquaintance 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 A YEAR AT 
 
 with Mr. George Gainsborough had by no 
 means improved his opinion of our mo- 
 dern Greek heroes. He must affect singu- 
 larity, which Arthur Latimer thought unen- 
 durable. 
 
 They found Mr. Bohun, in every respect, 
 the reverse of what they expected. If Mr. 
 Chace was astonished at detecting in him a 
 complete man of business, they were not less 
 so at finding a man of sense. Graceful and 
 easy in his address, mild and unaffected in 
 his manners, he seemed as eager to please 
 as he appeared agreeably impressed by them. 
 
 When the visit was returned at Hartlebury, 
 and Miss Molesworth had an opportunity of 
 forming her opinion, it was by no means 
 less favourable than her father's. Indeed, Mr. 
 Bohun's appearance could not fail to captivate. 
 
HA.RTLEBURY. 171 
 
 An air of elegance and refinement particularly 
 distinguished him, and a most musical voice 
 recommended his slighest observation. His 
 delicately moulded features would have per- 
 haps been effeminate, but for the intelligence 
 and passion which beamed in his deep grey 
 eye. He wore neither whisker nor moustachio, 
 which might have been a little coquetry, in 
 order to rivet attention on his rich brown 
 curls. 
 
 Mr. Bohun had a great deal to say which 
 pleased Helen. He praised the country, 
 admired Hartlebury, he said all that was 
 proper about Bohun. And if he did not 
 actually declare that he was sorry that he had 
 stayed so long away, it was sufficiently evident 
 that now he had come back, he was charmed 
 with the people he had fallen amongst. He 
 
 I 2 
 
172 A YEAR AT 
 
 asked many questions about the principal fami- 
 lies in the county and enquired more parti- 
 cularly about the immediate neighbourhood. 
 The Gainsboroughs were mentioned ; he seemed 
 struck with the name ; the family was de- 
 scribed ; he said he had met George Gains- 
 borough on the continent. 
 
 Helen was particularly charmed by the 
 deferential tone he assumed towards her father. 
 He wished to lose no time in commencing that 
 line of duty which he thought incumbent on 
 a resident country gentleman. And a resident 
 he should now certainly be ; and he sought 
 advice and assistance from Mr. Molesworth. 
 He should, certainly, attend the ensuing ses- 
 sions, and he asked as a particular favour, 
 that Mr. Molesworth would introduce him. 
 In short, he was in every way eager to be 
 
HARTLEBURY. 173 
 
 obliged, a readiness which is always most cap- 
 tivating in a person who is really in no want 
 of your favours. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 MR. GEORGE GAINSBOROUGH'S 
 BAD MEMORY. 
 
 While these interesting events were occurring 
 at home, George Gainsborough was absent on 
 a visit to his brother-in-law Dr. Maxwell. He 
 remained away a fortnight ; but, as it was no 
 part of his system to allow Helen to forget 
 him, on the morning of his return he walked 
 up to the Hall. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 175 
 
 , *' You have just missed our new neigh- 
 bour," said Helen, after she had received all 
 Mr. George Gainsborough's compliments. "Mr. 
 Bohun is only just gone. But you know him,'* 
 she added. 
 
 " I have not yet that pleasure. My father, 
 I believe left his card yesterday; but you 
 know I have been away," said George Gains- 
 borough a little piqued that his absence had 
 made no impression. 
 
 " I know that ; but I mean that you have 
 seen him abroad." 
 
 " Not that I am aware of." 
 " Oh yes ; you may depend you have," 
 said Helen. "Mr. Bohun made no doubt 
 about it; he spoke as if he knew you very 
 well." 
 
 *' Indeed," said George Gainsborough, mu- 
 
176 A -yEAR AT 
 
 singly, "it is odd I cannot bring such a name 
 to my mind. But," he added, a little grandly, 
 '* one really meets so many English on the 
 continent, in all the hurry and bustle of travel- 
 ling, that without one has a wonderful memory, 
 which I do not pretend to, it is impossible to 
 be even with people." 
 
 *' And yet," said Helen, " I should have 
 thought Mr. Bohun's manners would have 
 distinguished him from the herd." 
 
 ** His manners are so very delightful, 
 then ? " said George Gainsborough, with as 
 much of a sneer as he dared venture to 
 Helen. 
 
 " Did Mr. Bohun mention where he 
 had met me ? " continued George Gainsbo- 
 rough, in a careless tone, after a few minutes' 
 pause. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 177 
 
 " No, I do not think he did — No I am 
 sure he did not — he merely said he had seen 
 you several times." 
 
 George Gainsborough fell into a reverie. 
 Helen endeavoured to find conversation. 
 
 " Dr. Maxwell has a very nice parsonage, 
 I believe.'* 
 
 **Very." 
 
 " Have you had any good shooting T' 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 *' Is Dr. Maxwell a sportsman? " 
 
 - No." 
 
 Helen gave up her endeavour in despair. 
 George Gainsborough made an effort to rouse 
 
 himself. 
 
 *'Yes, I quite agree with you; I thmk 
 Maxwell's is an excellent house. I should 
 not have stayed so long, but he persuaded 
 
 I 5 
 
178 A YEAR AT 
 
 me to remain over the first. There is capital 
 sport in his neighbourhood, as you were 
 saying.'* 
 
 But his loquacity did not long continue ; 
 he soon became again very silent, and said 
 he believed his long ride had tired him ; he 
 felt so very stupid that he must bid her good 
 bye, or she would turn him out. 
 
 As George Gainsborough pursued his way 
 home, he was at liberty to indulge his medi- 
 tations : but they did not become more satis- 
 factory. A train of associations had been 
 awakened, which excited emotions which al- 
 most overpowered him. The picture he had 
 seen at Bohun castle returned to his mind. 
 Was it possible ? — could it be ? — could his evil 
 star so predominate ? — He endeavoured to rally 
 —he endeavoured to throw off his emotion — 
 
HARTLEBURY. 179: 
 
 he allowed shadows to frighten him. What 
 indeed could be more unlikely than that two 
 men, whom extraordinary occurrences had 
 thrown together in a distant country, should, 
 suddenly meet in an obscure village in En- 
 gland ! It were absurd to have supposed it 
 even for a moment. After all Mr, Bohun 
 would of course prove to be some uninterest- 
 ing person he had once encountered at the top 
 of a mountain, or perhaps the passing hero 
 of some Anglo-Italian coterie. And yet some- 
 thing whispered that nowhere could Mr. Bohun 
 be a very insignificant person ; Helen had 
 noticed his manners as remarkable — remark- 
 able manners and his high station — surely, he 
 must have been everywhere of sufficient im- 
 portance to be remembered. Though George 
 Gainsborough was very vain, he was no fool. 
 
180 A YEAR AT 
 
 and he could not but consider Mr. Bohun's 
 recollection of him however flattering, a little 
 puzzling. But whether fear or hope predomi- 
 nated, there was one thing very certain — 
 his coming — and just at this moment, was 
 most unlucky. After he had stayed away all 
 his life-time, that he just should take it into 
 his head to return now, was infinitely pro- 
 voking. Six months later, and George Gains- 
 borough flattered himself it would have been 
 of no consequence : but as yet he could 
 not feel secure of Helen. He was satisfied 
 with his position ; and after all the pains 
 he had taken, it was very annoying that a 
 str-anger should suddenly drop down among 
 them, and spoil every thing. But was he a 
 stranger ? — To-morrow should determine : he 
 could no longer endure this painful state of 
 
HARTLEBURY. 181 
 
 incertitude — h^ almost added — this agony of 
 suspense. He would ride over early and alone, 
 to the castle. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WHICH HE ENDEAVOURS TO REFRESH. 
 
 George Gainsborough passed a moody even- 
 ing, and was not refreshed by a restless night. 
 He longed for the morning to arrive, yet the 
 first streak of davrn seemed the herald of an 
 unlucky day. He had no appetite for his 
 breakfast. It was too early to call at Bohun. 
 He knocked about the balls of the billiard 
 table, unconscious of his exploits, till involun- 
 
HARTLEBURY, 183 
 
 tary hazards cleared the table of his sources of 
 occupation, and he found himself cutting the 
 cloth with hie que. At length it was noon, and 
 he mounted his horse. 
 
 As he slowly ascended the hill to the castle, 
 he was struck by the change a few weeks had 
 produced. He met grooms exercising horses, 
 persons of every description hurrying to and 
 fro. Every body seemed full of bustle and 
 business. As he passed over the draw-bridge, 
 a porter threw open the massive gates, which 
 no longer creaked upon their hinges. In the 
 quadrangle many servants were passing and 
 repassing : as he approached the entrance, the 
 doors flew open, a liveried servant took his 
 horse, another ushered him up the great stair- 
 ease, which he had trod so lately, with so gay a 
 party, and such different feelings. He was in 
 
184 A YEAR AT 
 
 the ante-room, through which he had on that 
 day passed to the state apartments. Now he 
 followed his conductor by a door on the oppo- 
 site side, through one or two smaller rooms, to 
 a spacious drawing-room, where the servant 
 begged him to be seated, while he apprised 
 Mr. Bohun of his arrival. 
 
 A voice close to him awoke George Gains- 
 borough from a reverie which he could not 
 have told whether it had lasted five minutes 
 or fifty. The servant said Mr. Bohun begged 
 that Mr. Gainsborough would do him the honour 
 of visiting him in his dressing-room, and the 
 servant led him from the drawing-room through 
 a long gallery. At the end of the gallery he 
 threw open a door. 
 
 Mr. Bohun was reclining on a sofa, smok- 
 ing a long Turkish pipe. He was wrapped in 
 
HARTLEBURY. 185 
 
 a silk dressing gown, and as he emitted a cloud 
 of smoke, an imagination a little disturbed 
 might have conceived a turkish robe, and a 
 turkish divan. 
 
 "Ashurst!" exclaimed George Gainsbo- 
 rough, as the vision arrested him at the thresh- 
 old, — he hesitated, he seemed for a moment 
 almost bent on flight, but at length he ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 " I venture from our old acquaintance, to 
 hope that you will excuse my receiving you 
 with so little ceremony," said Mr. Bohun, with 
 some dignity. 
 
 George Gainsborough attempted to speak, 
 but his words were inaudible, he sank into a 
 chair, the servant left the room. For a few 
 minutes there was a silence which George 
 Gainsborough thought would never end. Mr. 
 
186 
 
 A YEAR AT 
 
 Bohun smoked on, — if he were giving his old 
 acquaintance time to recover his composure, 
 his kindness was of no avail ; if he were en- 
 joying his emotion, he must have been fully 
 gratified. 
 
 " My apparition appears to surprise you," 
 at length observed Mr. Bohun, " you probably 
 thought our acquaintance had terminated, but 
 fate seems to have determined otherwise." 
 
 George Gainsborough rose from his chair 
 and bent against the tall mantle-piece, and hid 
 his face in his folded arms. 
 
 " It is remarkable," continued Mr. Bohun, 
 in a quiet speculative tone, as he stretched 
 himself on the sofa, " it is certainly remarkable 
 that two men so strangely connected as we 
 have been, should suddenly again fall together 
 in such different characters, in such a quiet out 
 
HARTLEBURY. 187 
 
 of the way place as this. I dare say you think 
 it devilish unlucky." 
 
 George Gainsborough made no answer, he 
 still leant against the mantle-piece, he had 
 somewhat subdued the violence of his emotion, 
 and he thought it political to leave the con- 
 versation in Mr. Bohun's hands until he had 
 ascertained his intentions. Mr. Bohun had no 
 wish to conceal them. Whatever might have 
 passed between them elsewhere, now at any 
 rate lie wished to conciliate, and as George 
 Gainsborough made no sign, he soon added in 
 a more familiar tone : 
 
 " But our adventures, my good fellow, how- 
 ever they may have suited the land of the 
 brave and the free, will not do for this dull 
 clime ; the less therefore that is said of them 
 here the better for us both. From this moment 
 I forget every thing.'* 
 
188 A YEAR AT 
 
 As Mr. Bohun said this, he raised himself 
 on the sofa, and as he caught the eye of Gains- 
 borough, whom this easy address had brought 
 to a more erect position, something of a sneer 
 was evident, as he added, *' you, I suppose have 
 no particular pleasure in cultivating the remem- 
 brance of the past." 
 
 George Gainsborough had now something 
 to say ; he was still confused when he spoke of 
 his sorrow for the past, but he grew more in- 
 telligible and more eloquent, as he most sin- 
 cerely agreed in the advantage of silence at 
 the present. 
 
 They now endeavoured to talk of indifferent 
 things, but the effort was principally on the part 
 of Mr. Bohun, who seemed desirous of reassur- 
 ing his companion by appearing unconscious 
 of his want of ease. After some desultory 
 
HARTLEBURY. 189 
 
 conversation in which he asked and answered 
 most of the questions, he said : 
 
 " You have some months the advantage of 
 me in acquaintance with this part of the world, 
 do you think the people about here very revo- 
 lutinary ?" 
 
 *' Not in the least, it is the most Tory county 
 in England, you will be surprised at the people 
 in this country," added George Gainsborough, 
 now in his turn venturing a slight sneer, " if 
 you have had no better data to judge by than 
 continental reports." 
 
 "After all, then, you think the people gene- 
 rally, entirely indifferent to the Reform bill ?" 
 
 " Entirely." 
 
 " But it must however afford a good open- 
 ing for a stirring man to excite." 
 
 " It may certainly suit you. if you retain 
 your old tastes and capabilities." 
 
190 
 
 A YEAR AT 
 
 " What sort of people have I fallen 
 amongst? I see that Molesworth is entirely of 
 the old school, but his daughter is very beau- 
 tiful." 
 
 " Very," assented Gainsborough. 
 
 " Is she going to be married? who is this 
 Latimer ?" 
 
 " There is no danger from him. He is a 
 cousin you know, not likely to think of such 
 a thing." 
 
 " You have ascertained that," said Mr. 
 Bohun with a slight emphasis, as he turned his 
 keen eye on Gainsborough, and rung for a 
 fresh pipe. 
 
 " Gainsborough will you take a pipe ? " 
 he enquired : but George was in no humour 
 for smoking, and was glad to find in all 
 the bustle of the entrance of servants, and of 
 
HARTLEBURY. - 191 
 
 the change of pipes, a good opportunity for 
 departing. 
 
 In the open air once more he felt a little 
 relieved from his suffocating emotions, but he 
 could with difficulty command sufficient pre- 
 sence of mind to mount his horse with that 
 air of graceful dignity, which he flattered him- 
 self usually characterised the ascent into the 
 saddle of Mr. George Gainsborough. 
 
CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 MR. BOHUN IS VISITED BY HIS RELATIONS. 
 A FINE LADY AND A MOST GENTLEMAN- 
 LIKE FELLOW. 
 
 A WEEK had not elapsed since the arrival of 
 Mr. Bohun, and the whole neighbourhood 
 had not yet in the slightest degree, recovered 
 from the thunder-stroke of his return, when 
 some visitors arrived at the Castle. 
 
 His cousin Colonel Neville hastened to 
 congratulate him on the flag of Bohun once 
 more waving on the keep. Colonel Neville was 
 
HARTLEBURY. 193 
 
 Mr. Bohun's nearest relation on his father's 
 side, and in his early career had heen his 
 constant companion. Though of late, in com- 
 mon with others, Colonel Neville had heard 
 little of his cousin, he was really glad to 
 learn his safe return, which is saying a 
 great deal for the next in entail of the Bo- 
 hun property. 
 
 Colonel Neville was a fine tall military- 
 looking personage, — one of those men who are 
 unanimously declared by their co-mates and 
 contemporaries, to be most gentlemanlike 
 fellows, which means that they eat, talk, and 
 dress according to the most approved models, 
 and have the capability of following, where 
 they have not wit enough to lead. 
 
 Mrs. Neville, for he had lately married, 
 accompanied him in his visit. She was eao-er 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 A YEAR AT 
 
 to see her extraordinary cousin, and his fine: 
 castle, which one day might be her's. 
 
 On the morning after their arrival, Mr. 
 Bohun introduced his cousin at Hartlebury; 
 ajid on the next day, Helen and her father 
 promised to call on Mrs. Neville. 
 
 A pretty low phaeton was in waiting, driving 
 round the quadrangle, several servants were 
 lounging about with an air of indifference and 
 ang froid, as if they had never lived any 
 ^here else, when Mr. Molesworth's carriage 
 drove up to the entrance. 
 
 "Does it not seem, Papa," said Helen, 
 struck by the look of habitation, "as if 
 some good fairy had suddenly touched this 
 enchanted Castle, where every body has been 
 so long asleep ?" 
 . " There certainly is a great change," ans- 
 
HARTLEBX7RY. 195 
 
 wered Mr. Molesworth, " but I must see some- 
 thing better than half-a-dozen idle men before 
 I decide Helen that your fairy is a good 
 fairy." 
 
 Helen could only smile in reply, as her 
 father handed her from the carriage, and they 
 were ushered up the grand stair-case. Mr. 
 Bohun advanced to receive them with the 
 most evident pleasure, and introduced a 
 fashionable looking woman, who languidly 
 rose from the sofa. Two little dogs with 
 collars covered with silver bells, ran about 
 the room, and by their noise and the con- 
 fusion they created, skilfully covered their 
 mistress's languid advances. 
 
 Though Mrs. Neville had been only two 
 or three days at Bohun, she had diffused the 
 most modem air over the antique apartment, 
 
 k2 
 
196 A YEAR AT 
 
 for all the indispensible furniture of a fine 
 lady's travelling chariot, was spread in all 
 directions. Scented sachets impregnated the 
 room with the most refined odours, overpower- 
 ing Mrs. Brand's dried rose leaves, and bunches 
 of lavender. A massy table was sinking under 
 a load, which for the centuries it had existed! 
 it had never before sustained, — to wit, a heap 
 of modern publications from Ebers, fashionable 
 novels, sentimental travels, and authentic 
 memoirs. On another table was a work basket, 
 containing the most seducing incentives to 
 industry. All gold and mother-of-pearl, filla- 
 gree and sandal wood, and on a table nearer 
 to the lady, was an open desk, without all 
 Russia leather, and within all satin and gold, 
 and agate. At the feet of its mistress was 
 a round basket, quilted with rose coloured 
 
HARTLEBURY. 197 
 
 8ilk, the abode at pleasure of the favored 
 puppy. 
 
 Conversation proceeded, as conversation 
 usually proceeds between well-bred persons, 
 who mean to be civil to each other. Mrs. 
 Neville exerted herself to say that she under- 
 stood Hartlebury was a most beautiful place. 
 Helen hoped she would soon judge for herself, 
 and asked if she admired the Castle. All these 
 subjects duly discussed, there was a slight 
 pause, when Mrs. Neville said, *' I think 
 you have but a small neighbourhood about 
 here. I noticed, as we travelled, how few 
 gentlemen's seats I saw, — no park palings 
 along the road." 
 
 " Now," said Helen smiling, and glan- 
 cing at Mr. Bohun, " Now I can say we 
 have a small neighbourhood ; we have just 
 
198 A YEAR AT 
 
 arrived at the dignity of a small neigh- 
 bourhood — a month ago, I must have honestly 
 confessed that we had no neighbourhood 
 at all." 
 
 " You must be very dull if you live much 
 here," said Mrs. Neville. 
 
 " I live always here, but I do not think 
 I am very dull." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mrs. Neville, with a look 
 of civil surprise. " I suppose you mean, you 
 go occasionally to London — I wonder I have 
 never met you." 
 
 " No, I really mean no such thing. I 
 have not been in London for these four 
 or five years, and then I am afraid I was 
 too ignorant to profit much by my ad- 
 vantage." 
 
 " You look as if you had been often 
 
HARTLEBURY. 199 
 
 in London," said Mrs. Neville, in an ap- 
 proving tone, that was meant for a cona- 
 pliment, but which Helen thought rather 
 itn pertinent. 
 
 " You ought really Mr. Molesworth 
 to take your daughter every year to Lon- 
 don," said Mrs. Neville addressing Mr. 
 Molesworth. 
 
 ** Has Helen told you so?** answered he, 
 "It is more than she ever hinted to me." 
 
 "No, papa," said Helen, "because I 
 have not yet made up my mind that I want 
 to go." 
 
 At this moment Colonel Neville entered 
 the room. He had been trying a horse in the 
 Park, to ascertain if it would suit Mrs. Neville 
 who was anxious to ride. 
 
 As he advanced to pay his compliments, 
 
200 A YEAR AT 
 
 the two little dogs jumped upon him to greet 
 him, the bells made a great noise, and nothing 
 was for a few moments intelligible, but ** down 
 Flora — get away Carlo — how troublesome you 
 both are." 
 
 " Emmeline, my dear," said her husband, 
 as soon as the culprits permitted his ad- 
 dress, " I wish you would keep your dogs 
 quiet, they really will be thought a regular 
 nuisance." 
 
 The lady smiled at such a possibility. 
 
 ** How did the horse go Gustavus?" was 
 her first query. 
 
 " Oh ! my dear, it will not do for you at 
 all, it would kill you, absolutely shake you to 
 pieces. I told John so before I got on it, but 
 he is so confoundedly obstinate." 
 
 Miss Molesworth now pressed Mrs. Neville 
 
HARTLEBT7RY. 201 
 
 to accept the loan of her horse ; she had a 
 second, which she often rode, a little rouglier, 
 it would not suit Mrs. Neville, but for her own 
 part she liked it best. She often rode it in 
 change with her own quiet mare, which was 
 the gentlest thing in the world, and which she 
 insisted that she would send to-morrow, for 
 Mrs. Neville to try. 
 
 When Mr. Bohun heard all that was 
 passing, he was extremely obliged to Miss 
 Molesworth, and seemed somewhat annoyed 
 at the deficiencies of his manege. 
 
 " 1 hoped," he said, from my man's des- 
 cription, that the horse would just have suited 
 Mrs. Neville. Chace told me that at the time 
 he bought it, it carried a lady." 
 
 " A farmer's wife, you mean," said the 
 Colonel. 
 
 K 5 
 
202 A YEAR AT 
 
 " I say, Aubrey," added Colonel Neville, 
 " who can a gentleman be that I saw riding by 
 the Park gates to-day, — a military man I sup- 
 pose. By the bye it is not much use asking 
 you, I must apply to Miss Molesworth." 
 
 '* It must be Mr. George Gainsborough,'' 
 said Helen. 
 
 *' Do you know what regiment he is of?" 
 
 ''Not any, I believe.'' 
 
 " But this man wore moustachios," pur- 
 sued the Colonel. 
 
 '* He does wear moustachios. Perhaps he 
 has been in some foreign service," said Helen 
 hesitatingly. 
 
 "He is a foreign hero," observed Mr. 
 Molesworth. 
 
 "I knew him abroad," said Mr. Bohun, 
 quietly, " he is most decidedly a hero." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 203 
 
 The ladies separated with mutual expres- 
 sions of good-will. Mr. Molesworth was 
 made acquainted with the affair of the horse, 
 and insisted that it should be sent to Mrs. 
 Neville on the morrow. 
 
CHAPTER XVIIT. 
 
 INCREASED INTIMACY BETWEEN THE 
 CASTLE AND THE HALL. 
 
 The horse was found perfect, and most thank- 
 fully accepted, and Mrs. Neville full of gratitude 
 and rather dull, sought with flattering eagerness 
 Miss Molesworth's society. The ladies rode 
 together every morning. — The gentlemen were 
 not always able to accompany them, but they 
 were sufficiently well-pleased with each other, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 206 
 
 to encourage their meeting nearly every evening. 
 In the morning Mr. Bohun was now busily en- 
 gaged with Chace in making himself popular, 
 he sought the acquaintance not only of his own 
 tenantry, but of the principal inhabitants of 
 Fanchester, and for Colonel Neville who was 
 a keen sportsman, there was irresistible attrac- 
 tion in the preserves of Bohun, which he found 
 in so much better order than he expected that 
 he was in no haste to close his \4sit The 
 Squire and the Rector of Hartlebury were 
 never to be depended upon, the one was too 
 idle, and the other too busy, to be constant 
 attendants, and our fair ladies would sometimes 
 have been reduced to what Mrs. Neville would 
 have deemed, a state of unprecedented and 
 forlorn isolation, if it had not been for the 
 polite George Gainsborough. He was ever 
 
206 A YEAR At 
 
 ready, equally willing to quit his gun, or his 
 guitar, for their sakes. Ever smiling, ever 
 gallant, he was invaluable to Mrs. Neville, to 
 whom a certain number of compliments were in- 
 dispensible in the course of the four-and-twenty 
 hours. She appropriated all his civil speeches, 
 allowed him to prescribe for her dogs, and in- 
 vited him to join all their rides. She did more, 
 she procured him many invitations to the 
 Castle, and thus the very circumstances which 
 he feared would destroy all his scheming, only 
 threw him more than ever into Helen s com- 
 pany. It was true that fully understanding 
 the terms on which he was admitted, he did 
 not venture to lose his footing by an exclusive 
 attention to Helen, but he flattered himself 
 that she could not be insensible to all the 
 agreeable qualities which were daily ex- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 207 
 
 • 
 
 hibited, and that when Mrs. Neville departed, 
 and he was at liberty to be more decidedly 
 devoted, he should reap the fruit of all the 
 good seed he was now so plentifully sowing. 
 With this great object in view, Mrs. Neville 
 found him each day more amiable, and more 
 captivating. 
 
 The sessions week arrived. Colonel Neville 
 wished to accompany Mr. Bohun, and it was 
 therefore arranged that Mrs. Neville, who had 
 an equal horror of the bustle in a Country 
 town, and solitude in a feudal Castle, should 
 visit Helen, while the gentlemen were 
 absent. 
 
 On the evening of the second day, they 
 were to return to a late dinner at Hartlebary, 
 and the first was drawing to a close before 
 Mrs. Neville, who was always late, and her 
 
S08 A YEAR AT 
 
 dogs, and her page, and her lady in waiting, 
 arrived at the Hall. 
 
 Mrs. Neville exerted herself the next morn- 
 ing to appear at an unusually early hour. 
 Helen had however already passed a most in- 
 dustrious morning. It was a true autumn day, 
 the sun was just forcing its way through a 
 thick mist, which had enveloped every thing, 
 it was still too wet to venture out, the ladies 
 therefore roamed about the house, inspecting 
 all the antiquities, and speculating on all the 
 traditions. Almost every room had some 
 quaint story, or some curious legend attached 
 to it, and Helen knew them all, and could point 
 out the hero or the heroine of her tale amongst 
 the family portraits which hung round the 
 Hall. 
 
 The old oak Hall itself was well worthy of 
 
HARTLEBURY. 209 
 
 attention. It was a favourite object of Mr. 
 Molesworth's care, who had removed all the 
 modern incongruities which from time to time 
 had crept in. 
 
 It was of great length and height, with a 
 ceiling of most curiously carved oaken beams. 
 The oaken pannels reached nearly to the ceil- 
 ing, and were covered with innumerable por- 
 traits of all sizes. Above the pannelling, the 
 wall was almost hidden by arms of all sorts, 
 coats of mail, and shields, and helmets, and 
 hunting spears, and stag horns, all contributed 
 by some warrior, or some Nimrod of the house 
 of Molesworth. From this hall, curiously 
 wrought doors led into the apartments, which 
 although connected en suite, each severally 
 opened into the Hall. 
 
210 A YEAR Af 
 
 The ladies at last wearied of examining, 
 retired to luncheon. 
 
 " My dear Miss Molesworth," exclaimed 
 Mrs. Neville, fired by gratitude as she inserted 
 her spoon into a delicate trifle, " My dear Miss 
 Molesworth, we must really have you in Lon- 
 don next spring." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Neville," said Helen smil- 
 ing, ** I fear we must invent some more probable 
 mode of meeting. You must come here 
 again." 
 
 "But you really ought to be presented," 
 urged the grateful lady. 
 
 " It has been talked of, but I think at this 
 moment, my father is less inclined to visit 
 London than ever." 
 
 "It is really a shame, with all your ad- 
 vantages to keep you shut up here. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 211 
 
 ** But I am not shut up," said Helen laugh- 
 ing, ** I do what I like, which I could not do 
 in London." 
 
 " Yet you must be very dull here," per- 
 sisted Mrs. Neville. 
 
 " Never, I have plenty to occupy me. I 
 never was dull that 1 remember but once in 
 my life, and that was when I was in London. 
 That really was dullness, I never shall forget 
 how miserable J was. My father out every 
 day, I left with my governess, masters all the 
 morning, and then a dull ride, and a walk 
 in the Park. How I used to sigh for my gar- 
 den, my flowers, and my poney ! How I 
 longed for the liberty of dear Hartlebury ! 
 Yes ! how I longed to be, what you call shut 
 up." 
 
 " But you were a child then, it would be 
 
212 A YEAR AT 
 
 very different now, with all your advantages, 
 you would be quite recherchee.*' 
 
 " No,*' said Helen more seriously, " I am 
 sure I should not be happy in London, I might 
 be amused, but I should not be happy, I should 
 hate to be liked by people who would care 
 nothins: about me if I had half a dozen brothers, 
 or sisters, as agreeable as myself." 
 
 Mrs. Neville laughed at Helen's fastidious- 
 ness. 
 
 " Do you often," she asked, " have people 
 staying with you 1 " 
 
 " Yes very often, we have many relations 
 who live in distant counties, and indeed the 
 families who live in this county are so far 
 apart, that when we do meet we generally 
 remain sometime together." 
 
 ** How comes it," interrogated Mrs. Ne- 
 
HARTLEBURY. 213 
 
 ville, " that Mr. Latimer is not married 1 I 
 thought all clergymen married directly they 
 had a living ; all the clergymen I know are 
 married." 
 
 ** It must be generally a great advantage to 
 them, living so much as they do in one place, 
 and with so many duties to perform, in which 
 a woman can so much aid them : but Arthur 
 Latimer does not feel so much the necessity of 
 a wife, for his mother is often with him." 
 
 " Mrs. Latimer seems quite a lady. I dare 
 say she is very good." 
 
 " She is an excellent woman," replied Helen 
 with feeling. " As kind as she is judicious. I 
 wonder who Arthur will marry," added Helen 
 musingly, " he is too difficult to please, to 
 choose a wife very quickly." 
 
214 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 " I think I ought to call on Mrs. Latimer " 
 said Mrs. Neville rising from the table, " if you 
 like we will take our walk now." 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE GENTLEMEN RETURN FROM QUARTER 
 SESSIONS. 
 
 It was late before the gentlemen returned. 
 They had been detamed by Lord Courtland, 
 and by Lord Courtland's polite attentions which 
 were very famous. The Earl of Courtland was 
 the great man of the County, he was the Lord 
 Lieutenant, and piqued himself on being uni- 
 versally popular. Indeed he possessed all 
 
216 A YEAR AT 
 
 the requisites to secure popularity to an Earl. 
 He had a quick sight, and a long memory, and 
 not being burtliened with much knowledge, 
 or given to much reflection, he had always a 
 ready head for all the minute affairs of the 
 world. He never forgot a person he had once 
 seen, he never forgot the name, not only of the 
 person he addressed, but of every member of 
 his family. If a man married a daughter, 
 Lord Courtland never failed to congratulate 
 him, if he lost his wife his lordship never 
 asked after her. These delicate attentions 
 Lord Courtland flattered himself had met with 
 their due reward, he believed that he had 
 reached the juste milieu between dignity and 
 affability. 
 
 The first appearance of a person of Mr. 
 Bohun's consequence was a great event, and 
 
HARTLEBURY. 217 
 
 his lordship thought it incumbent on himself 
 to make a great sensation on the occasion. 
 He wished all the county to be aware of the 
 gracious manner in which he had received 
 Mr. Bohun, and of the very handsome way in 
 which he at once considered him as a friend. 
 He overwhelmed his unconscious protege with 
 a thousand civilities, and would not allow the 
 party to return home without visiting his 
 castle, which carried them at least three miles 
 out of their road. 
 
 They returned therefore very weary, and 
 very hungry, and Helen's observing eye quickly 
 detected that her father looked as if he had 
 been bored to death. Dinner was however 
 soon ready, and brought with it that consola- 
 tion which a good dinner seldom fails to bestow 
 on the hungry and the weary. Mr. Molesworth 
 
 VOL. 1. L 
 
218 A YEAR AT 
 
 was by no means insensible to the delicise of 
 the table and to-day, as the soup was good and 
 the Matelotte well concocted, and the pheasants 
 not without flavour, and the wine in excellent 
 order, Helen had soon the pleasure of seeing 
 bis smiles and his philosophy return, and 
 before the close of dinner, the mention of Lord 
 Courtland's name only elicited a little gentle 
 badinage. 
 
 Mr. Bohun and Mr. Latimer were men of 
 the most opposite character, which we trust our 
 readers will have in some slight degree detected, 
 but on this occasion as they joined Miss Moles- 
 worth's tea-table, they were both meditating on 
 the same subject, in a state of the most perfect, 
 though unconscious agreement. They were 
 both thinking of the charms of woman's society, 
 and of the horror of having been condemned 
 
HARTLEBURY. 219 
 
 for two whole days to the company of meu. 
 It was to this happy change they both ascribed 
 their more agreeable sensations at the present 
 moment, and far be it from me, a woman, to 
 insinuate that they were mistaken. The soft 
 carpets and the downy couches of Mr. Moles- 
 worth's drawing-room, and his rich Burgundy, 
 and his bright Claret, would not in themselves 
 have been more agreeable than the dust and 
 bustle of the Town-hall, and the greasy cookery 
 and the hot Port of the Ordinary dinner, if it 
 had not been for Helen's graceful attentions, 
 and Helen's sweet smiles. 
 
 ** I have not yet heard one word of your 
 adventures," said Helen ; ** now that you are 
 somewhat rested, you must tell me every body 
 that you have seen." 
 
 »'That will be quite impossible Helen," said 
 
 l2 
 
2-20 
 
 A YEAR AT 
 
 Mr. Latimer, " without we have as good me- 
 mories as Lord Courtland, who almost fancied 
 to-day that he remembered Mr. Bohun because 
 he had been present at his christening. I never 
 saw a sessions so fulL'* 
 
 " How do you like [jord Courtland? *' asked 
 Helen of Mr. Bohun. 
 
 " I think that question quite as impossible 
 to answer Miss Molesworth as the one you 
 asked Mr. Latimer." 
 
 "Well then," said Helen, "how do you 
 like his Castle?" 
 
 " I think it is magnificent," answered Mr. 
 Bohun, " that is to say the interior. I do not 
 like the exterior, it looks too new ; you must 
 permit me," he added smiling, " at least to 
 profess to admire old dilapidated exteriors, as 
 I have allowed my own to become so." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 221 
 
 " Do not call Bohun Castle dilapidated," 
 replied Helen : " I like that fine gray colouring. 
 I hope you will never give it a new smart look 
 like Courtland." 
 
 *' No I promise you 1 never will, but I 
 think I must have a Gallery like Lord Court- 
 land's. Gustavus," said Mr. Bohun to Colonel 
 Neville, who was seated by his wife on a sofa 
 by the side of a fire, " do you not think that 
 a Gallery, like the one we saw this afternoon, 
 would look well at Bohun Castle opening into 
 the Ball-room ?" 
 
 " I should so like to see the ball-room at 
 Bohun lit up," said Mrs. Neville. 
 
 " It never will be I fear," said Helen, " if 
 in this part of the world it is to illuminate 
 dancers.'* 
 
 " It shall be lit up without dancers then," 
 said Mr, Bohun. 
 
222 A YEAR AT 
 
 **0h delightful," exclaimed Mrs. Neville. 
 I should like it of all things. Would not you, 
 Helen T 
 
 " It shall be illuminated to-morrow Em- 
 meline," said Mr. Bohun, 
 
 But to-morrow the ladies settled was too 
 early a day. Mrs. Brand would be offended if 
 it were not arranged in due order, so accord- 
 ingly the day after was fixed on, and Mr. and 
 Miss Molesworth promised to attend. 
 
 " But surely," said Mr. Bohun, when this 
 important arrangement was concluded, *' surely 
 we might fill the Ball-room. All the fathers 
 and husbands and brothers that have been 
 dealing out their decrees for the last eight-and- 
 forty hours, they must have daughters and 
 wives and sisters, who also require their amuse- 
 ment." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 223 
 
 ** So you think we country gentlemen only do 
 our duty for our diversion?" said Mr. Moles- 
 worth. 
 
 " Happy country," replied Mr. Bohun with 
 a smile, " where such a combination is prac- 
 ticable. Your friend Dr. Maxwell," he con- 
 tinued, " at any rate makes a business of 
 pleasure. He is a very great orator." 
 
 " And he spoke to-day V enquired Helen. 
 *' Both days without ceasing I believe," said 
 Mr. Bohun, " I voted against him and was as 
 is my lot in life, in a terrible majority." 
 " And what the subject?" 
 " I have not an idea. Mr. Latimer what was 
 Dr. Maxwell's motion ?" 
 
 *' Against open courts," replied Mr. Latimer. 
 ** And a very sensible motion too," added 
 Mr. Molesworth. 
 
224 A YEAR AT 
 
 " And you only voted against him Mr. 
 Bohun ?" enquired Helen. 
 
 "Oh, I am no orator, as Dr. Maxwell is, 
 I envy the man who can elevate his voice above 
 a whisper in a drawing-room." 
 
 " Well it is rather singular, but I should 
 have thought that you would have been a very 
 intrepid speaker." 
 
 " I have lived in silent lands," said Mr. 
 Bohun. " What is called a free government 
 makes a talkative people." 
 
 " Well I must say," said Mrs. Neville, "that 
 I am no admirer of orators. The pleasantest 
 men in town never speak in the house. 1 wish 
 they would all follow their example. Society 
 would be much more agreeable. I never shall 
 recover this triste season. I really must say 
 that I think it was very ungentlemanlike in 
 
HARTLEBURY. 225 
 
 Lord Grey bringing forward any measure 
 which he was not sure to carry at once. I 
 declare that I found myself one day at a 
 dinner party without a single man but old 
 
 gouty Lord , and he was complaining the 
 
 whole time that he could not get down to the 
 House." 
 
 " Were I a man," said Helen somewhat 
 thoughtfully, " I should like to be in parlia- 
 ment. It must be very exciting." 
 
 "The dullest business in the world," observed 
 Colonel Neville, " when you are in. Trying to 
 get in is some amusement. But every man 
 I know in the House tells me he is bored to 
 death. There's Crawford, — Crawford never 
 could sleep 'till he got into parliament ; and 
 Harry Stair, he always says it cured his dys- 
 pepsia. There is no place in the woi-ld where 
 
 l5 
 
226 A YEAR AT 
 
 you sleep so soundly as in the House of Com- 
 mons." 
 
 ** There will be noise enough now in it," 
 said Mr. Molesworth, " to rouse any one, but 
 I dare say very little dyspepsia. I cannot fancy 
 the member for Birmingham or the Tower 
 Hamlets with the dyspepsia. Can you Arthur ? 
 Oh no ; dyspepsia is a very fashionable com- 
 plaint indeed. None but a very idle person 
 with a very good cook has dyspepsia." 
 
 " Gustavus," drawled out Mrs. Neville to 
 her husband, who was standing before the fire, 
 " do you know that Dr. Flirt thinks that Bijou 
 has the dyspepsia V* 
 
 " New complaints are always appearing," 
 said Mr. Molesworth, '* but I suspect that they 
 are old offenders who return from transporta- 
 tion with an alias." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 227 
 
 " The cholera is awful, and I shouM^ink 
 new," said Mr. Latimer. 
 
 " Ever since poor Lady Harriet's death, I 
 am quite frightened by the name of cholera. 
 Do you know, Gustavus, I am rather losing my 
 opinion of Flirt, for if you remember, he as- 
 sured us that cholera never attacked any but 
 the canaille V* 
 
 " The plague is not so aristocratic," said 
 Mr. Bohun, " and therefore would not at all 
 suit this country." 
 
 "There was no cholera when I was a boy," 
 observed Mr. Molesworth, " and then we were 
 indeed an aristocratic nation. That is past. 
 We are now a people of political economists. 
 Ricks are burnt and machines shattered, and 
 the people are starving, but then we have the 
 advantage of being destroyed by the most 
 
228 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 scientific legislation. As for myself, I glory in 
 being a bigot." 
 
 " Which means, Mr. Molesworth," said Mr. 
 Bohun, " in your vocabulary, a yery honest 
 man." 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MR. BOHUN SURPRISES MR. CHACE AND 
 
 EVERY BODY ELSE, INCLUDING 
 
 THE READER. 
 
 At six o'clock the next morning Mr. Cliace 
 received a summons from Mr. Bohun. It was 
 promptly obeyed. 
 
 «' I am sorry to disturb you at such an un- 
 reasonable hour Chace," said Mr. Bohun, who 
 was pacing his room in his dressing gown, " but 
 I know your zeal for me. I start for Fanches- 
 
230 A YEAR AT 
 
 ter, and as I wish my address to be circulated 
 to-day, there is no time to be lost." 
 
 Mr. Chace was confounded, not at the 
 celerity of the movements required, for he was 
 an active man, never at a loss for expedients, 
 but at what he considered the folly of the 
 attempt. 
 
 He looked his astonishment as he replied : 
 " My dear Sir, you know 1 am ever ready, but 
 are you not here a little too hasty, — have 
 you considered? " 
 
 " My dear Chace," said Mr. Bohun a little 
 impatiently, "all I ask of you now is to assist 
 me as a friend. You need not be afraid. You 
 will have none of the responsibility ; no one 
 will suspect such a Tory as you of having sent 
 me forth." 
 
 What could poor Chace do ? he could only 
 
HARTLEBURY. ?31 
 
 do that which he did, take the pen which Mr. 
 
 Bohun put into his hand, and set about inditing 
 
 the well rounded sentences which Mr. Bohun 
 
 poured forth. 
 
 From the observations he had made during 
 
 the last two days, Mr. Bohun had determined 
 at the present time not to start for the county. 
 He felt that his opinions would not be popular, 
 and he thought that it would be unwise to enter 
 into collision with any of his county neighbours 
 until he had made his way. His thoughts 
 therefore reverted to Fanchester, which from 
 the moment of his return had been a favorite 
 project. There he would certainly have a 
 contest, but as both his rivals were strangers 
 to the county, no one would feel it necessary 
 to be offended if he beat them. 
 
 For many years the borough of Fanchester 
 
232 A YEAR AT 
 
 had been represented by two wealthy and 
 respectable individuals, who seldom appeared 
 among their constituents. They came to be 
 chaired at each election, and every now and 
 then when they were travelling that road, they 
 spent the morning in calling on their friends. 
 Every year each sent a buck, and every year 
 one of them, who considered himself an orator 
 and was fond of spouting after dinner, banquetted 
 with the Corporation : the other who was more 
 silent and diffident, sent an additional present 
 of rich fruits from his hot-houses. The flatter- 
 ing speeches and the rich fruits balanced the 
 affair, both were equally popular. One was 
 a Tory, the other a Whig, but side by side they 
 bowed in amity to their constituents, and 
 nothing would have disturbed their friendship 
 but the overturning Reform Bill. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 233 
 
 The Reform Bill deprived poor Fanchester 
 of one of its members. 
 
 The Tory who had suddenly become a little 
 liberal, confident in his oratory, canvassed the 
 town with great ardour. The Whig who was 
 a quiet man — who liked the distinction of being 
 in parliament, so long as it cost him only his 
 money, shrunk with horror from a contested 
 election and a personal canvass, and offered 
 his interest, which he considered preponderated, 
 to the Treasury. Mr. EUice instantly fixed on 
 a proper man. He was a Radical, who had 
 just tunied Whig for the sake of the loaves and 
 fishes. He had in a series of Junius - like 
 compositions, written himself into sufiicient 
 notoriety to be an acceptable ally to the 
 government, and quite a hero among the 
 people. He would please the Whigs, and cap- 
 
234 A YEAR AT 
 
 tivate the Radicals, who united, would easily 
 beat the Tories, and moreover he could out- 
 talk Sir George Vavasour, the voluble Tory 
 candidate. 
 
 As Mr. Chace concluded the last sentence 
 of the address, he ventured one more remon- 
 strance ; but Mr. Bohun, now warmed by his 
 own eloquent appeal, was less disposed than 
 ever to listen to him : — 
 
 *'A11 I ask of you Chace is to get this 
 out by three o'clock," said Mr. Bohun, who, 
 glancing over the paper, returned it to Mr. 
 Chace. '* If you do not like to act for me 
 afterwards I shall not be oflPended ; but we can 
 arrange that by and bye : let me now hurry 
 you off — come back to breakfast." 
 
 By three o'clock all Fanchester was in con- 
 fusion. Mr. Bohun's address was placarded 
 
HARTLEBURY. 235 
 
 on every wall and left at every house. The 
 chief persons in the borough, who were gene- 
 rally pledged to one or other of the candidates 
 were in dismay, at the thought of disobliging 
 such a powerful man, and one too who had 
 been so civil to them. The lesser people were 
 in equal consternation. One feeling was uni- 
 versal : — Mr. Bohun who of course must 
 lose the election, would in revenge ruin the 
 town. 
 
 The next morning at an early hour, Mr. 
 Bohun rode into Fanchester, accompanied by 
 Colonel Neville and Mr. Chace. His return 
 to England was yet so recent that he had not 
 ceased to be an object of uncommon interest, 
 and to create a sensation whenever he passed 
 through the High street. All idle boys ran 
 after him, and all people who were not very 
 
236 ^ YEAR AT 
 
 busy stared at him, and touched their hats, 
 and all the smart young ladies ran to the 
 shop doors to look at him. 
 
 But to-day there was a great change. Knots 
 of people were at the corners of streets whis- 
 pering together ; they turned their backs when 
 Mr. Bohun rode by ; for every body was afraid 
 that he would ask them for their vote, before 
 they had made up their minds how they were 
 to answer him. 
 
 " I think 1 will speak to the people Chace," 
 said Mr. Bohun. He could not help smiling 
 at his agent's long face. Mr. Chace looked 
 as if his principal was in a false position. 
 
 "Cannot you manage it?" asked Mr. 
 Bohun as he looked round him. They were 
 just opposite a large house, the principal 
 house in the High street. A bow-windowed 
 
HARTLEBURY. 237 
 
 drawing-room was surrounded by a balcony, 
 if so imposing a name may be employ- 
 ed to describe the strong iron rails which, 
 supported by iron bars, held during the 
 summer months Mrs. Escott's gay flower- 
 pots. 
 
 " Whose house is this ? — Is it not my friend 
 Mrs. Escott's 1 " enquired Mr. Bohun. 
 
 Mr. Chase replied in the affirmative. 
 
 " That will do, exactly — that you know 
 will compromise no one. This balcony is made 
 for a speech." 
 
 As Mr. Bohun said these words, he jumped 
 from his horse, and followed by Col. Neville, 
 entered the house, while Chace went to collect 
 an audience. Mrs. Escott who considered the 
 compliment paid to her importance in the town, 
 and not to the convenience of her balcony was 
 
238 A YEAR AT 
 
 enraptured, and was at once Mr. Bohun's 
 most zealous supporter. 
 
 The report of a speech soon brought some 
 hundred loiterers round the house. Mr. Bohun 
 appeared in the balcony — a few voices, but not 
 of voters', cried " Bohun for ever." 
 
 He took off his hat — he passed his hand 
 through his curls, — he paused a moment — and 
 then he spoke. The music of his harmonious 
 voice broke on their astonished ears. He spoke 
 with mildness and with feeling of his return 
 to dwell amongst them — of his desire to be 
 their friend. He is interrupted by vociferous 
 cries of *' Bohun for ever." He describes the 
 mutual advantages of their friendship. His 
 perfect enunciation aids his powerful voice — 
 his tones are audible at the farther end of the 
 street. — The crowd rapidly increases. — He 
 
HABTLEBURY. 239 
 
 paints with energy the duties of a representa- 
 tive towards his constituents — the excited peo- 
 ple listen in profonnd silence — all idle sounds 
 die away — one by one a loiterer stealthily joins 
 the mass. He asks what their late members 
 have done for them? — *' Nothing," a thousand 
 voices respond. — He tells them what he will do 
 for them — what only a neighbour and a friend 
 can do for them. When he pauses, they cry 
 ** Go on;" when at last he ceases, they exclaim 
 " We must speak to him — we must speak to 
 him." 
 
 Mrs. Escott trembled for her neat Hall, 
 for her well polished oaken floor, as the people 
 i^ressed to her door. Mr. Bohun again appeared 
 at the window. 
 
 *' My friends," he said, " we must not 
 intrude here : meet me at the Rose." 
 
240 A YEAR AT 
 
 To the Rose the crowd rapidly turned, and 
 thither Mr. Bohun also proceeded as quickly 
 as his new friends would permit ; but he had 
 to shake hands with nearly all his thousand 
 auditors. 
 
 He at last safely reached the large room 
 of the Rose Inn : there Mr. Chace who now 
 looked very elated, seated at a table, recorded 
 the names of all those who hastened to assure 
 Mr. Bohun of their support. The greater 
 number of the liberals in the town had 
 hitherto stood aloof, undeclared for either 
 candidate. It was little doubted that they 
 would finally side with the ministerial gen- 
 tleman who was personally agreeable to them : 
 but they thought it more consistent to with- 
 hold for a short time their support, as he 
 had been recommended by their late Whig 
 
HARTLEBURY. 241 
 
 member, whom they detested. Now they re- 
 joiced in their freedom, as it enabled them to 
 be the first to offer their votes to ** Bohun the 
 friend of the People," 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
 i 
 
CHAPTER XXL 
 
 A FRIENDLY DINNER PARTY AT THE CASTLE. 
 
 The history of this eventful morning was car- 
 ried to Hartlebury by old Mr. Gainsborough, 
 who from his usual haunt the news-room, 
 had seen and heard all that passed and who 
 could not return home, without calling at the 
 Hall, to unfold the astounding intelligence 
 to Mr. and Miss Molesworth. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 243 
 
 Mr. Molesworth was a Tory of the old school, 
 and professedly a believer in the approach 
 of revolution and anarchy, the fatal effects 
 of the late measure ; but he was in fact of an 
 amiable temper, which made him sanguine, 
 and had a cultivated mind, which enabled him 
 to reason. He was apt to theorise, and it was 
 his favourite dogma that talents without pro- 
 perty, or property without talents may pro- 
 duce mischief, but that little danger is to be 
 apprehended from the union of broad lands 
 and clear brains. The few weeks of acquain- 
 tance with Mr. Bohun had proved that he was 
 the fortunate possessor of both. When there- 
 fore Mr. Molesworth heard that the repre- 
 sentative of the most Tory family in the county 
 had broached opinions somewhat subversive 
 of the principles of his ancestors, he did not 
 
 M 2 
 
244 
 
 A YEAR AT 
 
 grow either furious or sulky, but trusting that 
 a little longer residence in England would im- 
 prove Mr, Bohun's knowledge of the wants 
 of his counti-ymen, he prepared with his 
 usual philosophy to perform his dinner en- 
 gagement at the Castle. For it was on the 
 evening of this eventful morning, that Mrs. 
 Neville and Miss Molesworth were to be gra- 
 tified by the illumination of the ball-room. 
 
 "We have heard of all your mighty 
 deeds," said Helen, as she gave Mr. Bohun 
 her hand, on entering the drawing-room at 
 
 the Castle. 
 
 " 1 hope you are for me,'' he replied smiling, 
 
 " I dare not ask Mr. Molesworth." 
 
 " You know that it is not of much con- 
 sequence whether I am for or against you," 
 replied Mr. Molesworth. " If I had a vote, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 245 
 
 I dare say you would find courage to ask 
 for it." 
 
 "My dear Miss Molesworth,'* said Mrs. 
 Neville, " was it not too bad of Aubrey not to 
 tell us he was going to speak, — would you not 
 like to have heard him ? " 
 
 ** I have heard a prodigious account of 
 your eloquence," said Mr. George Gainsborough, 
 who at this moment was announced. 
 
 " Yes I produced a sensation," answered 
 Mr. Bohun. " I only hope both my adversa- 
 ries will not retire." 
 
 Mr. Chace who had returned with Mr. 
 Bohun from Fanchester, now entered tlie 
 room arranged for dinner smirking and 
 satisfied. 
 
 "We made a great sensation I assure you 
 to-day Sir,'* said he, rubbing his hands, and 
 
246 A YEAR AT 
 
 addressing Mr. Molesworth, " I do not know 
 what you will say to our principles, but at any 
 rate you will agree with us in one point, you 
 will like our abuse of the Whigs, — we pep- 
 pered them well/' 
 
 " You cannot say anything against them 
 which they do not deserve," responded Mr. 
 Molesworth. 
 
 ** Upon my word we gave it them well," 
 added Mr. Chace, who dwelt with much com- 
 placency on that part of the morning's ex- 
 ploit which best supported his consistency. 
 
 Mrs. Latimer and her son soon arrived, 
 and dinner speedily followed. 
 
 It was a gay meal. Helen was seated 
 betv^een Colonel Neville and Arthur Latimer, 
 who was consequently talkative and very 
 agreeable, so also was Mr. Bohun who talked 
 
BARTLEBURY. 247 
 
 to everybody, as he did not wish all his good 
 things to be dropped alone into Mrs. Latimer's 
 ear. 
 
 "And were you not very nervous?" en- 
 quired Helen. 
 
 "Extremely," said Mr. Bohun, "but I 
 never can do anything without being nervous. 
 But then you must recollect I was backed by 
 your friend Mrs. Escott." 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Escott, I quite love her for her 
 valiance," exclaimed Helen, " she has such a 
 horror of a mob." 
 
 " Well, I must say I think it very pro- 
 voking Aubrey that you did not tell us you 
 were going to speak," repeated Mrs. Neville. 
 " Very odd indeed ! We could have rode in 
 and listened to you. Gustavus I suppose you 
 said nothing V* 
 
2 48 A YEAR AT 
 
 *' No you will not find me making a speech 
 in a hurry," replied the Colonel. ** By Jove it 
 was a fine sight though. I liked the scene at 
 t he Rose the best. We shall have to go round 
 to all the benefit societies," he continued ad- 
 dressing himself to Miss Molesworth, " make 
 speeches, and drink beer. By Jove ! it cer- 
 tainly was a very fine affair." 
 
 ** Aubrey what are your colours?" enquired 
 Mrs. Neville. 
 
 **You shall choose Emmeline. They 
 must be announced to-morrow. Come Miss 
 Molesworth, pray assist Mrs. Neville in a 
 felicitous choice." 
 
 ** Blue I suppose is engaged," said Colonel 
 Neville. '* There is always a blue in elections." 
 
 " Blue and yellow are the engaged colours," 
 said Mr. Chace.— " Blue the Whig." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 249 
 
 " I would have both united," said Mr. 
 Latimer. 
 
 ** We must have something very pretty 
 and becoming,'* said Mrs. Neville. " What 
 do you think of green ? Green becomes me 
 very well. You know Gustavus you told me 
 the other day that I looked very pretty in 
 green." 
 
 ** I should like a combination," said Miss 
 Molesworth, ** Green and gold is splendid.'* 
 
 "Lincoln green!" exclaimed Bohun. "■ It 
 shall be Lincoln green and you shall be Maid 
 Marian." 
 
 So it was settled to be green; and then 
 many reasons were immediately discovered why 
 the colour should be green. The Bohun 
 liveries not the least efficient. 
 
 " We only give you five minutes Gusta- 
 
 M 5 
 
250 A YEAR AT 
 
 vus," said Mrs. Neville to her husband as she 
 rose from table. " Remember the ball-room is 
 illuminated to-night — you will find us there." 
 
 And to the ball-room the ladies proceeded. 
 
 '* How very splendid ! — How beautiful ! — 
 How enchanting!" they exclaimed dazzled 
 by the overpowering brilliancy. Three large 
 chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling, 
 innumerable girandoles hung round the room. 
 The pale green walls, which were covered with 
 the most fanciful gilt arabesques, were illu- 
 minated in every part. Numerous mirrors 
 and tall glasses, magically repeated the scene 
 which appeared without termination. On the 
 broad hearth blazed immense piles of wood, 
 which were supported by richly ornamented 
 dogs of silver. 
 
 "You must have seen this beautiful room 
 
 h^ 
 
HARTLEBURY. 251 
 
 full of gay people dear Mrs. Latimer," said 
 Helen. 
 
 *' Once just after I married, there was a 
 very gay ball, the Castle was full of visitors, 
 and people came from the most distant parts 
 of the county to be present at it. But it seems 
 to me like a dream," added Mrs. Latimer, some- 
 what mournfully, " it was all so soon over, 
 and the Castle deserted." 
 
 "Was not Lady Alice very handsome?" 
 enquired Mrs. Neville. 
 
 " 1 think I never saw a woman of such 
 dazzling beauty. Her son sometimes reminds 
 me of her, though he is so much like his 
 father." 
 
 " I think Aubrey is very handsome," said 
 Mrs. Neville. " Gustavus says he looked 
 magnificently to-day when he was speaking 
 
252 A YEAR AT 
 
 to those people at Fanchester. I wish we had 
 heen there. Gustavus says there is not a man 
 in the house like him. I hope he will gain 
 his election," pursued the lady. " It will be 
 so amusing to go to the ventilator to hear 
 him." 
 
 The conversation was arrested by the en- 
 trance of the gentlemen, who joined the ladies 
 only to participate in their admiration. They 
 all sauntered about the room as they sipped 
 their coffee, and admired the large carved 
 mantel-piece, the richly-adorned frames of the 
 glasses, the splendid cabinets. The room was 
 pronounced quite perfect. Mr. Bohun was for- 
 bidden to think of alteration. 
 
 At the top of the room there was a consider- 
 able elevated space which was intended for 
 the orchestra. You ascended to it by a flight 
 
HARTLEBURY. 253 
 
 of Steps. As Colonel Neville for the twentieth 
 time ran up the steps, and admired the pro- 
 portions of the room he said, 
 
 " Now here Aubrey would be a capital 
 place for you to address us. By the bye 
 Emmeline, does not this a little remind you of 
 the platform we erected for our theatricals 
 in the music room at your father's. This 
 would make a capital theatre." 
 
 " So it would," said Mrs. Neville eagerly. 
 " Let us get up a piece now.*' 
 
 " I am afraid,'* said Helen, " you will find 
 us deficient in our parts." 
 
 " Oh, you need not know your parts," said 
 Mrs. Neville : "we never learnt our parts at 
 Wenclyfi*e, it is such a bore we always im- 
 provised." 
 
 "It is very easy I assure you," remarked 
 
254 A TEAR AT 
 
 the Colonel, "just fix upon a story and ttien 
 everybody fills up the dialogue as their wit 
 suggests, and if they have no wit it is only 
 the more amusing." 
 
 ** But everybody has wit enough," added 
 Mrs. Neville : "we need not have many charac- 
 ters : an old father, a young daughter, and a 
 lover of course, and a few more characters 
 just to work out the plot." 
 
 " Well then," said Helen, " since it is so easy 
 let us get up a performance to-night. What 
 will you be Papa 1 " 
 
 " I will act the most important part," Helen, 
 which Mrs. Neville has quite forgotten. Mrs. 
 Latimer and myself will perform the part of 
 audience. I am sure you would none of you 
 like to act without you had some one to look 
 at you." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 255 
 
 *' Well, you must not be too critical, and 
 we will permit you to take that part. Now 
 Mrs. Neville you must be the heroine, you 
 must be the young daughter," said Helen 
 turning to that lady. 
 
 " No Miss Molesworth that ought to be 
 your part," urged Mrs. Neville in reply. 
 
 " Remember I am quite a novice," said 
 Helen, " I should not get on at all. You must 
 take the principal part, and' I will be your 
 soubrette. — Now for the others, Mr. George 
 Gainsborough I think must be the hero," added 
 Helen as she looked round at her company, 
 " he will act the lover capitally." 
 
 Mr. George Gainsborough looked as if he 
 did not like the tone of Helen's commenda- 
 tion. 
 
 "Tell me Miss Molesworth," asked Mr. 
 
256 A YEAR AT 
 
 Bohun, who was extremely amused at the 
 whole scene, " what are the qualities necessary 
 to act a lover capitally ? " 
 
 " They are too delicate and minute to be 
 described," said Helen laughing : " but it is 
 indispensable to be gallant, and to be able to 
 sing." 
 
 George Gainsborough looked as little like 
 a lover as possible, that is to say, if a lover 
 be always gallant and harmonious. 
 
 **Mr.,Chace must be the father," said 
 Mrs. Neville. 
 
 " My dear Madam you must excuse me. 
 I shall make a sorry case of it," rapidly 
 replied worthy Mr. Chace looking quite 
 alarmed. 
 
 " Oh ! no indeed Mr. Chace we cannot 
 spare you," cried both the ladies at once. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 257 
 
 " Arthur what will you be ? " said Helen, 
 turning to Mr. Latimer, who stood somewhat 
 apart from the group. 
 
 " You must let me be an observer 
 Helen. I am a very interested one," the 
 gentleman replied. 
 
 " I shall be afraid to act before Papa and 
 you.'* 
 
 " Why should you be afraid of me 
 Helen r' 
 
 She could not stay to tell him, for her 
 attention was claimed by others. 
 
 ** Miss Molesworth," said the Colonel, 
 "I am to be Gainsborough's valet, and in love 
 with you." 
 
 "Well now," answered Helen, "what are 
 we to do with Mr. Bohun ? Who can find a 
 character for him," 
 
258 A YEAR AT 
 
 *'Give me Colonel Neville's." 
 
 " That will never do," said Helen : " the 
 orator of Fanchester sent into the servant's hall ! 
 No you must be something grand and im- 
 perious." 
 
 " Is that your opinion of me? " asked Mr. 
 Bohun. 
 
 ** What character do you think would suit 
 you? You would never do for an old father, 
 and I think you would make but a bad 
 lover." 
 
 " Try me," said Mr. Bohun. He spoke in 
 a low tone, and he fixed his eyes on Helen's 
 countenance. 
 
 Helen blushed, and laughing said, " You 
 forget that I have no vote." 
 
 " I do not think Mr. George Gainsborough 
 
HARTLEBURY. 259 
 
 likes the office you have given him," said Mrs. 
 Neville in a tone of pique. 
 
 " Indeed Mrs. Neville you do me wrong," 
 replied George Gainsborough, and he threw 
 himself on his knee before her in a most 
 theatrical attitude. 
 
 " Bravo, "exclaimed the gentlemen. 
 
 "That is well done," said Helen : **but if 
 you are gloomy to-night you shall give up your 
 part to Mr. Bohun, and you shall be some 
 moody villain, a tyrant, or an assassin." 
 
 What could be the matter with George 
 Gainsborough to-night ? Is it possible, could 
 he really be jealous of Mr. Bohun, or was he 
 positively, sensitively in love with Miss Moles- 
 worth? Pale, red, ghastly pale, burning red, 
 and all in a few instants ; — the alternations of his 
 countenance could escape no one's observation, 
 
260 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 and Mrs. Latimer who was privileged ven- 
 tured to notice them. George Gainsborough 
 muttered something about a dizziness which 
 had already gone off, and while he was mut- 
 tering, Mr. Bohun was suddenly seized with 
 a desire to dance, and began to waltz with 
 Mrs. Neville. 
 
CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 AMATORY, POLITICAL, AND MYSTERIOUS. 
 
 Helen Molesworth had captivated Mr. Bohun. 
 He had returned to England resolved against 
 matrimony, but the more he saw of Helen, 
 the more his resolution faltered. Her purity, 
 her beauty, and her grace, enchanted him, and 
 his impetuous passions soon resolved that the 
 splendour of his destiny would be incomplete 
 without her love. 
 
262 A YEAR AT 
 
 The events of yesterday had thrown him 
 into that state of excitement, which in itself to 
 him was happiness. He resolved at the same 
 time to win his Election, and to gain the heart 
 of Helen Molesworth. The ardent love of a 
 woman so affectionate and so refined would 
 indeed be a rich reward for all the pleasing toil 
 of gaining it. Mr. Bohun was too fastidious to 
 desire an easy conquest, and he was too exact- 
 ing to be satisfied with less than the most en- 
 tire one. Helen must yield up to him all her 
 young and pure affections, she must love him 
 for himself alone, she must love even his faults 
 and his imperfections in spite of her conviction 
 that they were errors, and serious ones. She 
 must be entirely his, he should be jealous even 
 of her affection for her father. Such were 
 Mr. Bohun's notions of love, a sort of European 
 
HARTLEBURY. 263 
 
 adaptation of a Turkish fashion. In the land 
 of the turban, they are satisfied with the 
 imprisonment of the body, but in these coun- 
 tries where the body is always running about, 
 visiting, and dancing and shopping, Mr. Bohun 
 was willing to substitute in its stead an entire 
 bondage of the soul. 
 
 Though he possessed these erroneous notions 
 on certain subjects, Aubrey Bohun was a man 
 of nice discernment, and he had not failed 
 to employ all his powers of observation, in 
 endeavouring to understand his new friends. 
 His increasing passion for Miss Molesworth 
 made him interested for all who were likely 
 to influence her, and above all he had atten- 
 tively marked Mr. Latimer's character and 
 feelings. 
 
 Their frequent reunions aflPorded him good 
 
264 A YEAR AT 
 
 opportunities for study. He noted how seldom 
 Mr. Latimer's eye was averted from Helen's 
 countenance, and how often while apparently 
 deeply engaged in Mr. Molesworth's whist 
 table, or while the victim of one of old Mr. 
 Gainsborough's button-hole discussions, he would 
 send a sudden answer to Helen's most trivial 
 observation. Her lowest tone seemed ever to 
 reach his watchful ear. Mr. Bohun keenly ob- 
 served all these symptoms and many more, and 
 he felt well persuaded that Arthur Latimer 
 loved his cousin fervently and passionately. 
 Mr. Bohun believed however that, at present, 
 he himself was the only person in the secret. 
 That Helen should be apparently so uncon- 
 scious of what a woman almost instinctively 
 discovers, he could ascribe only to her extreme 
 youth and inexperience. As to the gentleman. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 265 
 
 no doubt he would soon be enlightened; the 
 actors were thickening on the scene, and 
 coming events would betray him to himself. 
 
 Mr. Bohun fully appreciated Mr. Latimer's 
 character, he felt his moral dignity, he did 
 full justice to his cultivated intellect, he did 
 not therefore despise him as a rival, but a 
 rival only increased the energy of his passion. 
 On George Gainsborough he did not waste a 
 thought, he was satisfied that Helen was alive 
 to all that was ridiculous in his character, 
 and a stronger guard against love he did not 
 ask. 
 
 While Mr. Bohun with his table covered 
 with electioneering papers, was thus alter- 
 nately indulging in visions of successful love 
 and ambition, Mr. George Gainsborough waa 
 announced. 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
'266 A YEAR AT 
 
 He was quite himself again, and in good 
 humour. 
 
 " I have come," he said, as he entered the 
 room, and he spoke in an assured tone, and 
 with an air even of kindness, " to renew my 
 offers of service. Can I do anything?" 
 
 Mr. Bohun received his offers of assistance 
 with all due expressions of gratitude, and they 
 both were soon busily employed in examining 
 the lists of voters. Chace had made some 
 rough notes against each name, indicating 
 either their political creed, or the parties by 
 whom they could be influenced. 
 
 *' I expect Chace every moment and he 
 will explain this confusion,*' said Mr. Bohun, 
 as they both stopped at a piece of private in- 
 formation, in one of Chace's notes which 
 greatly puzzled them. 
 
HARTLEBURY. 267 
 
 •* He went very early to Fanchester. To- 
 day I shall issue another address, more expla- 
 natory of my principles. To-morrow I shall 
 begin my personal canvass. I intend to call 
 on everybody." 
 
 " Here," continued Mr. Bohun," as he ran 
 his finger down the- list. ** Here, Gainsbo- 
 rough, you can help me, * Mackinnon seven 
 daughters,' I am sure you can captivate them 
 all, and seven daughters must govern one 
 father." 
 
 " You have plenty to do," said George 
 Gainsborough. 
 
 " Yes I think I have," said Mr. Bohun. 
 '* I have two affairs on hand, each of which in 
 itself is usually thought quite engrossing. I 
 am going to contest an Election, and I am 
 desperately in love." Mr. Bohun said these 
 
 n2 
 
268 A YEAR AT 
 
 words in a careless tone without raising his 
 eyes from the lists before him, which he seemed 
 to be perusing. 
 
 " Here Gainsborough," he continued. " I 
 think you can aid me, but unfortunately I 
 cannot woo Miss Molesworth by deputy." 
 
 Gainsborough was pale from passion, he 
 pushed his chair back from the table, but Mr. 
 Bohun did not look up. 
 
 " You are rapid in your plans," said George 
 Gainsborough in a tone which was intended to 
 be satirical. 
 
 " I always am," replied Mr. Bohun, still 
 reading his lists. 
 
 Gainsborough rose from his seat and turned 
 to the window, but he could no longer restrain 
 himself: he was alternately pale and flushed 
 as he exclaimed : 
 
HARTLEBURY. 269 
 
 " Bohun you cannot think of it, surely she 
 is safe." 
 
 " Safe, " replied Mr. Bohun, " she is 
 sacred, I worship her. She is the shrine on 
 which I intend to devote all that I have of 
 good." 
 
 Mr. Bohun spoke in a gay tone, and push 
 ing the table away from him, he jumped up 
 from the sofa, and paced the room. 
 
 " You cannot marry her/' said George 
 Gainsborough. Mr. Bohun stopped in his walk, 
 he turned on Gainsborough a glance of light- 
 ning as he said in a most imperious tone : 
 
 " Who is there here who dares say I 
 cannot ?" 
 
 George Gainsborough was maddened by 
 his passion : one moment had verified his worst 
 fears, and his disappointment was embittered 
 
270 A YEAR AT 
 
 by the evident contempt with which Mr. 
 Bohun treated his pretensions. 
 
 He writhed with rage, as he answered : 
 ** Do you then so despise my power?'* 
 " Despise you," answered Mr. Bohun in a 
 very equivocal tone, " oh no I have the firmest 
 reliance on your honour." 
 
 Gainsborough bit his lips, and turned away 
 in baffled silence. 
 
 " Let us understand one another Gainsbo- 
 rough," said Mr. Bohun, as he threw himself 
 again on the sofa : "I have no wish to revive 
 old stories ; I am the last person to talk about 
 old scrapes, but when I promised forgetfulness, 
 I considered the oblivion was to be mutual. It 
 is for you to choose what you desire to be said. 
 What can you tell of me ? an adventure so 
 romantic, so improbable, that in this matter of 
 
HARTLEBURY. 271 
 
 fact country no one would believe it ; while if 
 your recollection do not fail you, some of my 
 claims on you would not fail of being perfectly 
 understood here," 
 
 Mr. Bohun's observations appeared convinc- 
 ing; for George Gainsborough made no effort 
 to deny them. 
 
 ^' I am determined to gain Miss Moles- 
 worth," continued Mr. Bohun, " if it be possible. 
 I am by no means vain enough to think it 
 certain. She may be dazzled, but she will 
 never be confounded. To win her, one must 
 seem at least to deserve her. Do you not think 
 so?" added the gentleman, with a tormenting 
 look of appeal. *' But you probably have not 
 thought about the matter as I have done, you 
 of course have merely regarded her as an 
 agreeable companion." 
 
272 A YEAR AT 
 
 At this moment a gentle tap at the door 
 relieved Mr. George Gainsborough from the 
 necessity of replying, if he ever intended it : 
 Mr. Chace entered. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said the agent 
 when he saw his principal was not alone. 
 " I thought you would be so impatient, that 
 I have run up without waiting to be an- 
 nounced." 
 
 " Indeed I am very glad to see you. You 
 may say anything before Mr. Gainsborough he 
 is my confidential friend. How fare our con- 
 stituents V 
 
 "In as healthy a state of agitation as you 
 could desire Sir," chuckled Mr. Chace. " Every 
 body is eager to hear you again. There is 
 your new address," pursued he producing a 
 sheet almost wet from the press : "if you will 
 
HARTLEBURY. 273 
 
 just look it over, I will hasten back with it to 
 Fanchester." 
 
 " Here is Mr. Gainsborough eager to be 
 employed," said Mr. Bohun as he took the 
 paper, "cannot you tell him how he can be 
 uesful while I run over this V 
 
 George Gainsborough mechanically took a 
 list from the table, and seemed to be listening 
 to Mr. Chace's long winded instructions. If 
 however he were ever of any use to Mr. Bohun 
 in his canvass, it certainly was not from any- 
 thing suggested to him this morning. His 
 thoughts were wandering. They were in dis- 
 tant countries, they were at Hartlebury Hall, 
 they were anywhere but with Mr. Chace. At 
 last it seemed to him that that gentleman was 
 recommending him to call somewhere, he said 
 he would do so directly, and forgetting to say 
 
 » 5 
 
274 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 Good morning, he took up his hat and bolted 
 out of the room. 
 
 '* This is indeed a zealous friend," thought 
 Mr. Chace. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AMATORY ONLY. 
 
 Mr. Bohun's second address was issued. It 
 was a pointed resume of his speech. Helen 
 was attentively reading it when Arthur Latimer 
 entered the room. 
 
 " Have you become a politician Helen ? " 
 he enquired. 
 
 " Oh no I am admiring the eloquence of 
 
276 A YEAR AT 
 
 this appeal without understanding a word of 
 it. Have you read it." 
 
 " Yes I have, and like you I admire its 
 eloquence, without comprehending a word of 
 its meaning." 
 
 " But do you not think Mr. Bohun very 
 clever?" asked the lady. 
 
 " What do you think of him V enquired 
 the gentleman in reply, involuntarily drawing 
 his chair nearer to her in his eagerness to hear 
 her opinion. 
 
 " I think him very clever and most agreea- 
 ble : surely you think him clever?" 
 
 The chair receded as Arthur Latimer coolly 
 answered : " He is undoubtedly very clever. 
 He shews it in his skill in making friends." 
 
 " We should be ungrateful not to be his 
 friends," said Helen, "he is so eager to be ours." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 277 
 
 *' And have you forgiven him Helen for his 
 long desertion of Bohun, which once used to 
 excite all your eloquence V 
 
 " I am ashamed to say how seldom I have 
 thought of it since his return," said Helen 
 slightly blushing. 
 
 " We seem all to have forgotten it. But do 
 you not still think it was wrong ?" 
 
 *' Oh yes very wrong." 
 
 " Should we not then dear Helen be some- 
 what afraid of a person who thus captivates 
 our reason, and makes us forget the difference 
 between ri^ht and wrono; ?" 
 
 " And yet," urged Helen, would it not be 
 uncharitable to withhold our friendship which he 
 so agreeably solicits, until we have thoroughly 
 gauged his character. It is true," she added, 
 " that as yet we know nothing of his principles? 
 
278 A YEAR AT 
 
 or his temper, but while we see nothing to dis- 
 approve, is it not right, is it not your own doc- 
 trine Arthur, to give him credit for being what 
 we approve?" 
 
 "Is it impossible to be at the same time 
 charitable and cautious ?" asked Mr. Latimer. 
 
 He took up the address from the table, and 
 drawing his chair nearer to the fire with his 
 feet on the fender he seemed to be intently 
 perusing it. In truth his eyes were fixed on 
 the paper, but his thoughts were wholly of 
 Helen. He continued for some time silent, and 
 Helen also, busied with her netting seemed 
 plunged in thought. At last Arthur pushed 
 back his chair from the fire, and saying some- 
 thing about being verj- hot, took his hat and 
 seemed about to depart. 
 
 " Are you going Arthur V* asked Helen, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 279 
 
 '* if you could wait for me, I would walk with 
 you ; I want to call on your mother, but per- 
 haps you are m a hurry," 
 
 ** Not so hurried but that I can wait for 
 you." 
 
 " I will not keep you five minutes," said 
 Helen as she left the room. 
 
 Arthur threw himself on the sofa, and 
 covered his eyes with his hand, as if he would 
 shut out that light that had so suddenly burst 
 upon him. Alas! alas! how weakly he had 
 deceived himself, — the fatal truth was now re- 
 vealed with bitter force. He remembered how 
 indignant he nad felt but a short time before 
 at Gainsborough's insolent pretensions, what 
 was it that he now felt ? Alas ! it was all the 
 eligibilities of a connection with Mr. Bohun, 
 all the probabilities, all the certainty of his 
 
280 A YEAR AT 
 
 success, that filled him with this heart-rending 
 anguish. He felt that his indignation at Gains- 
 borough's presumption, his despair at Mr. Bo- 
 hun's advances, all arose from the same source, 
 he was no longer blind, he knew he loved 
 Helen with an overpowering, a burning passion. 
 But never was there a human heart so totally 
 devoid of selfishness as Arthur Latimer's, his 
 was truly that christian benevolence, that en- 
 abled him to deny himself for others' good. 
 He could soon ask himself if he ought to mourn 
 his loss, if it were Helen's gain, if he ought to 
 grieve, if her virtues and her winning graces 
 were removed to a more extended sphere of 
 asefulness and felicity? But would she be 
 valued and cherished as she deserved? what 
 did they know of Mr. Bohun ? a fatal reverse 
 of the picture would obtrude itself, and Helen, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 281 
 
 his adored Helen, the unhappy and contemned 
 
 wife of a heartless libertine , he 
 
 pressed his hand to his burning brow. 
 
 At this moment Helen returned . She opened 
 the door with so gentle a step, that he was not 
 aware of her presence, until she took his hand, 
 and asked if he were ill He started, his dis- 
 ordered countenance seemed but to verify her 
 fears. 
 
 " I am sure you are very ill Arthur, tell me 
 what I can do for you ?" she affectionately said. 
 
 *' Indeed, I am not ill," he replied, " I have 
 only a headache, a very slight headache." 
 
 She looked incredulous. 
 
 " Indeed I am not ill," he continued in a 
 more cheerful tone ; for the sight of Helen, her 
 actual presence, still happy and blooming, had 
 already revived him. 
 
282 A YEAR AT 
 
 ** I will prove to you that I am not ill if 
 you will take a walk with me. Instead of 
 going down to the Rectory, let us have a stroll 
 on the common, the fresh air, and your cheerful 
 company, will charm away my ailment." 
 
 Helen willingly consented, and they were 
 soon on the common inhaling all the sweet air 
 of the breezy down. 
 
 It was a fine October day, the air was clear 
 and exhilirating, and the sun bright and warm, 
 lit up the woods which were now clad in a 
 thousand gay colors. Rich orange, and bright 
 red, and pale yellow, mingling with the solemn 
 garb of the evergreens in the most harmonious 
 confusion. 
 
 The trees half-thinned of their leaves more 
 fully developed their majestic or their graceful 
 forms, than in their summer dress, and every 
 
HARTLEBURY. 283 
 
 now and then, one prematurely leafless, shot 
 up its gray branches among its gaudy brethren. 
 As our cousins skirted the wood, they caught 
 glimpses of the young children, who were busy 
 among the rustling leaves gathering their 
 winter firing. They heard their wild laughter 
 and their sudden noises, and they could not 
 but in some degree participate in the gaiety 
 which this bright day seemed to diffuse on 
 all. 
 
 "This is a beautiful season," said Helen, 
 " how charming is this rich glow of colouring! 
 — how inspiriting this fresh breeze ! I think 
 the poets are wrong to describe sadness as 
 the feeling attendant on autumnal scenes. I 
 think it excites gay and stirring feelings." 
 
 "Ah, Helen!" said Mr. Latimer, "it is 
 so to you because you are young and joyous. 
 
284 A YEAR AT 
 
 It is to the old and to the unhappy, that the 
 approaching close of the year brings mournful 
 feelings. It tells the one that they will soon 
 be called upon to deliver up their great 
 account! — it reminds the other perhaps, of 
 another year passed in anguish and suffering. 
 But is the Autumn your favourite season ? " 
 
 "No! perhaps not! and yet I think an 
 autumn breeze on this common the most in- 
 spiriting thing in the world. I cannot tell 
 which season I most prefer, nor do I think 
 any one could, if they were called upon to 
 choose which they would always live in. How 
 delightful is spring with its gay sounds and 
 sweet smells ; and glowing summer with its 
 brilliant flowers — its rich foliage — and its soft 
 delicious moon - lights ! And who does not 
 love winter? — dear domestic winter." 
 
HARTLEBURY. 285 
 
 " I agree with you, Helen, — I think a per- 
 son would be very unhappy who was con- 
 demned to live wishout any prospect of change 
 in the season which he fancied he preferred. 
 I believe it is their variety far more than 
 their beauty which enchants our inconstant 
 hearts." 
 
 Allured by the beauty of the morning, thus 
 conversing they pursued their way across the 
 common. It was a most beautiful common — 
 we have not such another in the north. It 
 had been formerly a forest, and was yet in 
 parts covered with magnificent and ancient 
 trees. Helen's little dog ran bounding on 
 before them, jumping over the now golden 
 fern, and delighting in the rustling noise, 
 which even his light form occasioned among 
 fallen leaves; and quite astonished, when a 
 
286 A YEAR AT 
 
 quicker breeze investing with life his dead 
 playthings, they flew in eddying circles around 
 him. 
 
 *' Little Fairy," said Helen, " is enjoying his 
 walk — he seems to suspect that it may be his 
 last for this year." 
 
 Fairy soon ran crouching to the side of 
 his mistress — he was frightened at some 
 hissing geese, who had drawn themselves 
 up in battle array at the gate of a farm- 
 house. 
 
 " Here we are at Ford's gate," said Mr. 
 Latimer. "You must be tired, Helen, — 
 would not you like to go in and rest ? " 
 
 " I am not at all tired ; but I should like 
 very much to go in to pay Mrs. Ford a 
 visit. I have not seen her since her ill- 
 ness. " 
 
HARTLEBXJBY. 287 
 
 Having dispersed Fairy's enemies, they 
 passed through the gate across a pretty 
 orchard, where some men were busy gathering 
 the last apples into the farm-house. Ford, 
 who was a most respectable and honest man, 
 was the proprietor of the small homestead on 
 which he lived, one of the few small farms 
 which still managed to struggle on, in spite 
 of political economy. Mr. Molesworth, who 
 was no political economist, respected this man's 
 rights, and was always glad to assist him in 
 maintaining his independence, and both he and 
 Mr. Latimer always treated him with the con- 
 sideration his industry and good qualities so 
 fully merited. 
 
 Our companions lifted the latch, and at 
 once entered the tidy kitchen, where every- 
 thing, as bright and neat as usual, showed 
 
288 A YEAR AT 
 
 that the mistress was about again. Mrs. Ford 
 soon herself appeared from an inner room. 
 Her eyes sparkled when she saw Helen. 
 
 * ' Oh dear, Miss — is it you ? I am so glad 
 to see you." 
 
 The good woman bustled to set chairs for 
 her visitors, carefully wiping them down with 
 her apron (a most unnecessary precaution), as 
 she placed them. 
 
 *' I hope Mrs. Ford," said Helen kindly, 
 *' that you are not moving about too much ! " 
 
 " Oh thank you Miss I now feel quite 
 strong again ; it was only yesterday I was 
 saying to my good man that 1 thought I could 
 get as far as the great house to thank you for 
 your kindness," 
 
 " You must not be in a hurry to do that," 
 said Helen. " I. shall be very glad to see you, 
 
HARTLEBURY. 289 
 
 but you must await awhile, before you take 
 such a long walk. 
 
 " I am able to move about now without 
 feeling a bit the worse for it, I assure you 
 Miss. I sent the girl away last Saturday — I 
 was quite glad to be busy again :" and as Mrs. 
 Ford spoke, she arranged some little matters 
 upon the shelves over the dresser, which 
 seemed to her precise eye to be misplaced. 
 "Somehow or other, 1 don't seem quite to 
 rights yet." 
 
 " And yet," said Mr. Latimer, " your house 
 looks as it always did, the neatest in the 
 parish. " 
 
 The good woman much gratified, smiled 
 in reply to her pastor's commendation. 
 
 " I am sure Miss," she said, turning to 
 Helen, " that I am able to do any thing again, 
 
 VOL. I. ^ 
 
290 A YEAR AT 
 
 I must thank you, for, under God's mercy ! — 
 I am sure it was that good jelly you sent me 
 that brought all my strength back again." 
 
 At this moment the farmer himself en- 
 tered. He was a fine specimen of a once 
 numerous and noble race, now alas ! nearly 
 extinct — the blunt, the honest, the true old 
 English yeoman. 
 
 "■My man told me Sir," said he, address- 
 ing Mr. Latimer, " as how you and Miss was 
 paying my mistress a visit; so I thought to 
 myself I would just step in to tell you how we 
 settled the matter about old Tom Roberts, and 
 I wished to thank the young lady too, for all 
 her kindnesses to my dame." 
 
 '' I am glad to find your wife so well," said 
 Helen. 
 
 ''Thank ye, she is quite fierce again this 
 
HARTLEBURY. 291 
 
 last week, and I am sure she may thank you 
 for it Miss." 
 
 Mrs. Ford taking advantage of her hus- 
 band's entrance, had dived into her pocket for 
 the key of her most favoured stores, and now- 
 approached her guests with a bottle of her best 
 cowslip wine. Mr. Latimer and Helen could 
 not refuse her pressing solicitations to taste the 
 beverage on which she so particularly prided 
 herself. 
 
 While Mr. Latimer was occupied in listen- 
 ing to the farmer's long history of a Vestry 
 meeting, Helen was hearing the equally length- 
 ened story of all the particulars of Mrs. Ford's 
 illness and recovery. 
 
 At last, however, the visit terminated. — 
 Arthur Latimer's head-ache had yielded to the 
 influence of his beautiful companion, and he 
 
292 HARTLEBURY. 
 
 returned home, thinking with Helen, that an 
 autumn breeze on Hartlebury common was 
 the most inspiriting thing in the world. 
 
 " I shall tell my mother," said he smiling 
 as he parted from Helen, *' that a work of 
 charity prevented you calling on her to- 
 day!" 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 B. BENSLEY, PRINTER. 
 
i 
 
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