L I B RAHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 Of ILLI NOIS 
 
 823 + 
 St84t 
 
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 cop. 2
 
 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/threewives01stre
 
 THREE WIVES. 
 
 BT =>i f 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 MARGARET AND HER BRIDESMAIDS," 
 "THE VALLEY OF A HUNDRED FIRES," 
 
 &c, &c. 
 
 " Heaven witness 
 I have been to you a true and humble wife, 
 Ever in fear to kindle your dislike ; 
 Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry 
 As I saw it incline. Sir, call to mind 
 That I have been your wife in this obedience 
 Upwards of twenty years." 
 
 Shakespeake. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL, I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1868. 
 
 The right of Translation is reserved.
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUGWELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE, 
 BLENHEflM STREET, OXFORD STREET.
 
 v / 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS 
 
 DEDICATED TO ONE OF THOSE 
 
 LOVING AND BELOVED WIVES AND MOTHERS 
 
 THAT ARE THE BOAST 
 
 AS WELL AS THE BLESSING 
 
 OF 
 
 V l: N G L A N D, 
 
 >1 THERESA COUNTESS OF SHREWSBURY. 
 
 5 
 
 <r 
 
 ^
 
 THE LADY ELIZABETH, 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Soft went the music the soft air along, 
 While fluent speech, a vowelTd under-song, 
 Kept up among the guests, discoursing low." 
 
 Keats. 
 
 " niHIS is not your first season 1 " 
 
 -*- " No, I came out last year." 
 
 " I thought so ; and you are not engaged yet ?" 
 
 " Engaged !" echoed the elder, though the 
 younger-looking of the two. 
 
 Fair, sweet, not to say simple, looked the Lady 
 Elizabeth Ellerton. Handsome, intelligent, and 
 self-possessed seemed the younger debutante, Lady 
 Rose Alwyn, whose pretty face was expressive of 
 a scornful surprise, that this should be the second 
 season of her companion, and yet she seemed in- 
 nocently ignorant of the importance of the word 
 " engaged." A colour rose to the cheeks of the 
 Lady Elizabeth. Young things are so quick to 
 interpret the thoughts of each other, but if she 
 read the disdain in Lady Rose's heart, she was too 
 
 B 2
 
 4 Three Wives, 
 
 meek to resent it, or too shy to show any other ex- 
 pression than the involuntary one of blushing. 
 
 Finding her companion did not intend to say 
 more, after echoing the word " engaged," Lady 
 Rose, assuming a pretty little girlish importance, 
 said, patronizingly, 
 
 " Not that I am engaged yet, but, then, 'tis not 
 the end of the season — besides, mamma thinks it 
 would be as well for me to wait until the autumn 
 visiting begins at country-houses. It is wonderful 
 the good matches that are made then. The men 
 are quartered in the house with one, you know." 
 
 " Are they ?" murmured the Lady Elizabeth, 
 feeling it necessary to say something. 
 
 " Of course they are. Had you no invitations 
 last year ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I went to my cousin's, the Bagshot 
 Smythes ; we were for three weeks at Ellerton 
 with my uncle." 
 
 "And did you meet no one there in particular,?" 
 
 " I forget," answered the simple Elizabeth. 
 
 Lady Rose took, what is termed, stock of her 
 companion. They had known each other by 
 sight since the season began, but had only that 
 evening been introduced to each other. Chance 
 had placed them side by side at a concert, and in
 
 Three Wives. 5 
 
 the pauses of music they interchanged a few words. 
 
 It depended upon individual taste which of the 
 two girls might be considered the handsomest. 
 Lady Elizabeth had the advantage of figure and 
 complexion. Both were almost faultless, but she 
 lacked the sparkling animation and sprightly man- 
 ners of the Lady Rose. In fact, she had no ex- 
 pression at all, beyond a gentle wondering look in 
 her eyes, as if she was bewildered. 
 
 There was no question as to Lady Rose's fitness 
 for the scene before her. Though still girlish — 
 almost childish — she drank in all the various say- 
 ings and doings around her with vivid delight and 
 sympathy, and was imbibing new r ideas with every 
 fresh arrival. Nothing escaped her, and while men- 
 tally appraising a new dress, or deciding the be- 
 comingness of a novel mode of arranging the hair, 
 she settled in her subtle, fast little brain of what 
 most of her neighbours were thinking. It is to be 
 feared she did not credit them with much, for in 
 another pause in the music she turned to the 
 young neighbour, whose mind was so different to 
 her own, and essayed once more to extract some- 
 thing from her. Lady Rose, with all her quick- 
 ness and much-prized shrewdness, was not indif- 
 ferent to the charm of a high-bred grace, that,
 
 6 Three Wives. 
 
 conspicuous in the Lady Elizabeth, she wholly 
 wanted herself. From the first moment that her 
 quick eyes had been attracted by the beautiful 
 figure and gentle nobility of her neighbour, she 
 had been anxious to make her acquaintance ; and 
 if others had found fault with the unchanging 
 sweetness of her expression, Lady Rose confessed 
 to herself, in her heart of hearts, that she envied 
 her the unmistakable gift of purest refinement. 
 She moved with the utmost grace, she danced 
 with a carriage that was faultless ; she uttered 
 her little nothings with so gracious an amiability, 
 that, in the fast language of her Eton brother, 
 Lady Rose could only repeat to herself, u She is 
 the most thorough-bred girl of the season." And 
 never having felt envy before, she desired now to 
 turn that uncomfortable feeling into friendship, or 
 to find some flaw in the object that created it. 
 
 " Do you like music V 
 
 " Yes, but I understand so little about it, I 
 find I admire what, perhaps, few others do." 
 
 " I should not care for that. I rather like hav- 
 ing my own opinion." The gentle eyes of Lady 
 Elizabeth opened, not so much in deprecation, as 
 if expanding to take in a new idea. " Not that I 
 like concerts in comparison with balls."
 
 Three Wives. 7 
 
 "It is pleasant to rest and listen," replied Lady 
 Elizabeth, a little sententiously. 
 
 " Do you go out much ?" 
 
 u Yes — almost every night, if I can get a chape- 
 ron. I do not like to tax my grandmamma too 
 much." 
 
 " Oh ! dear me, what a bore I should think it if I 
 was prevented going out for want of a chaperon. 
 Luckily, my mother is as fond of going out as I 
 am ; she will have plenty of it, for I have five sis- 
 ters. How many have you ?" 
 
 u None — I am by myself." 
 
 " Ah ! then you need not hurry yourself to 
 marry. Now, I must do so, to get out of my sis- 
 ters' way. Only I don't mean to take the fir°t 
 person that offers — do you f 
 
 The gentle Elizabeth again opened her eyes. 
 
 " I have not thought of marrying yet — I seem 
 almost still in the school-room." 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense, you must have thought a little 
 about it. I am sure, I was only ten years old 
 when I first settled in my own mind the sort of boy 
 I would marry." 
 
 " Boy !" 
 
 " Yes, then of course boy — now, young man. 
 Tall and dark."
 
 8 Three Wives, 
 
 " And good," interpolated Lady Elizabeth. 
 
 Lady Rose laughed. 
 
 " I am afraid your grandmamma has made a 
 little prude of you." 
 
 i; She is very particular. I do not dislike it." 
 
 Lady Rose envied in her heart the little stately 
 air that accompanied these words, yet she said, 
 mockingly, 
 
 "Of course you would not think of rank, or 
 money, or any other qualification but goodness ?" 
 
 " I do not know. I should not like to marry be- 
 neath me." 
 
 " And is that all you have thought on the mat- 
 ter? Now, I really must confess something to 
 you, though you must promise to tell no one. I 
 never see a man come into the room, if he is un- 
 married, that I don't immediately begin to take 
 him to pieces in my mind, and see whether he will 
 do for the husband I mean to have. All my 
 partners undergo the same ordeal — that is, if they 
 are eligible. Of course mamma would not hear 
 of anything like a common-place love-match. I 
 must endeavour to secure an excellent one in every 
 way, because, when one sister marries well, all the 
 rest are pretty sure to follow. Being the eldest, I 
 must sacrifice myself for the others — that is, if it
 
 Three Wives, 9 
 
 is a sacrifice. I am afraid it is no such thing — I 
 am much of mamma's mind." 
 
 Lady Elizabeth seemed to be listening to Greek, 
 for anything she understood of what her companion 
 was saying. Nevertheless, something smote her 
 good taste, or the innate delicacy of her mind re- 
 ceived a shock, for, with a sudden animation, that 
 lighted up her gentle face into wonderful beauty, 
 she said, 
 
 " No, oh ! no — to love, I have heard, is no sacri- 
 fice ; and who would marry who did not love !" 
 
 For a moment Lady Rose was lost in admira- 
 tion of her prettiness ; but her precocious worldli- 
 ness could not withstand the merriment caused by 
 her companion's simplicity. 
 
 a To think that you have been out nearly a year 
 and a-half and know no better. What a pity it is 
 that you have no sisters or companions." 
 
 Lady Elizabeth could make no reply, had she 
 been so inclined, for singing began again. As the 
 two girls listened to it with composed silence, an 
 observer would have settled in his own mind that 
 the pretty, sparkling Lady Rose was a debutante of 
 some standing : while the simple, innocent Eliza- 
 beth was just out of the school -room. Over the 
 face of Lady Rose flitted all sorts of ideas, hu-
 
 10 Three Wives. 
 
 morous, sarcastic, and sagacious. Her eyes were 
 everywhere, yet her little gloved hand beat time to 
 the music. The serene eyes of Lady Elizabeth 
 never wandered for a moment from the singer. 
 Her lips, just parted, gave to her face somewhat 
 the expression of a wondering child. By some 
 instinct belonging to her nature, Lady Eose be- 
 came aware that close behind them sat one who, 
 in her secret heart, and she knew in the secret 
 heart of her mother, they had agreed was the for- 
 tunate person whom it would exactly suit them 
 both for Rose to marry. She no longer heard a 
 note of the singing. She was arranging in her 
 mind a few soft words of welcome, schooling her 
 features into a smile of surprise and joy, tasking 
 her eyes with speechless messages, which none 
 knew better how to send. But before the song 
 ended, he moved silently away. 
 
 " Did you see him ? — he was close behind us," 
 she whispered excitedly to Lady Elizabeth, as the 
 song ended, and she indicated whom she meant. 
 
 " Yes," she answered composedly ; " I saw him 
 come in. I think I have now felt what music 
 must be to those who love it."
 
 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " She is a precious jewel I have found 
 Among the ruth and rubbish of the world. 
 I'll stoop for it. And when I wear it here, 
 Set on my forehead like the morning star, 
 The world may wonder — but it will not laugh." 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 I SUPPOSE it will end in my marrying, 
 Audrey V ' 
 
 " Why so V ' answered his sister, quickly. 
 
 " I have seen a girl I rather like." 
 
 " There are but two, this season, worth looking 
 at." 
 
 u Perhaps she is one of them ?" 
 
 "Don't be tiresome, Silborough. You have 
 tried marriage once before. You are provided 
 with an heir — why trammel yourself with a wife?" 
 
 " I rather fancy I should like a wife — it steadies 
 one." 
 
 Lady Audrey Buckhurst perceived, by some 
 sign best known to herself, that her brother was
 
 12 Three Wives. 
 
 determined on marriage at all hazards, and that it 
 was her wisest plan to aid rather than thwart him. 
 Nevertheless, she could not restrain an angry bit- 
 ing of her lips — a sudden, swift, irrepressible ges- 
 ture of disappointment. Some years older than 
 her brother, she had assumed a care of him, that 
 might be termed maternal. 
 
 He had inherited an earldom from his father 
 while yet in the cradle. His vast wealth had been 
 hoarded during his minority, until it was scarcely 
 to be summed up. He was worshipped as a little 
 king before he could walk, and this worship had 
 continued up to the present hour. He had but 
 to wish to have ; and the curse that attends upon 
 riches encircled him like proof-armour. He knew 
 nothing of what went on in the world, but in the 
 circle of which he was the sun. Naturally ami- 
 able, he had no scope to exercise it, for everybody 
 applauded whatever he did. To give away money 
 was simply to scatter about that of which he had 
 more than he could use. Not clever, he had 
 never reasoned with himself as to the accident of 
 being born to honours and wealth, and the neces- 
 sity of making an individual character by some 
 personal virtue or vice. He was unable to realise 
 that people could care for gold, as an absolute
 
 Three Wives, 13 
 
 want for mere bread ; and he had never gone so 
 far as to ask himself why the poor worked so hard. 
 To amuse himself all day, and fritter away half 
 the night, had been all the labour he had to do for 
 the last twelve years. And if a sort of growing 
 apathy and ennui had come upon him of late, it 
 seemed to him to be caused more by the world be- 
 coming duller every day rather than that he was 
 sated with luxury. 
 
 He married, on becoming of age, a young crea- 
 ture apparently born on purpose to be his wife. 
 Amongst the most upper of the upper ten thou- 
 sand, she w r as reared in the essence of lilies and 
 roses. Enshrined in a palace of exquisite refine- 
 ment and luxury, she scarcely knew that the sea- 
 sons changed, or that cold winds blew, and bleak- 
 ness and winter asserted a rigid power. She saw 
 people different to herself, and pitied them ; but 
 she only pitied them because they had poor 
 dresses, and could not robe themselves in costly 
 lace, satin, or pearls. Of any of the stern realities 
 of the world she w r as utterly ignorant, and pro- 
 bably would have regarded them as she regarded 
 the miseries she had to pity in novels, if they had 
 been described to her. 
 
 Neither of these two young people was so
 
 14 Three Wives. 
 
 much to blame for the extreme concentration of 
 self that belonged to both. Those who had the 
 care of them should be charged with it. 
 
 Selfishness runs riot over the world, even among 
 those whose fortune and condition necessitate 
 work and submission. We have but to place our- 
 selves in the position either of those we envy or 
 those we despise, to perceive that the perils which 
 surround the rich are the subtlest and the mightiest 
 to destroy. The " camel passing through the eye 
 of a needle " should be remembered with gratitude 
 by the poor and hard-working. Is there any type 
 so expressive, any example so emphatic — so ex- 
 treme as this, in the whole Bible ? 
 
 Time was not given to the young Countess of 
 Silborough to shake herself free of the silken 
 chains of wealth and prosperity. Though she but 
 exchanged one palace for another, she was too 
 much of a hot-house plant, too delicate and tender 
 for any of the world's work. Ignorant that she 
 was of different clay from other mortals, or that she 
 really had no constitution to bear the shock, her 
 doctors seemed not to have been sufficiently care- 
 ful of so delicate a creature after her confinement. 
 
 Apparently she recovered, and entered with 
 renewed zest into that strange vortex of life called
 
 Three Wives. 15 
 
 pleasure. A little over-fatigue, a slight cold — a 
 sort of fairy's cough, none of which would have 
 been noticed, had not everything she said or did 
 been of paramount importance, caused her to be 
 again placed in the doctor's hand. Perhaps an 
 order to breathe fresh country air, perhaps a total 
 change in the habits of her life — perhaps a thou- 
 sand things might have saved her. But she was 
 not saved. Now better, now worse, she suddenly 
 slipped through the fingers of the nurses, doctors, 
 relations, and husband, each making her their 
 chief care — and died, before they realized she was 
 in danger. 
 
 It was after her death that Lady Audrey Buck- 
 hurst came to console and amuse her brother. She 
 was married to a handsome, clever, proud scion of 
 a noble house, who, connected with the heads of 
 the government, hang their younger sons on to 
 their skirts, for any odd work that may suit a 
 young nobleman to do. He pleased Lady Audrey's 
 fancy by his beauty, he gratified her ambition by 
 being always seen when anything was going on ; 
 and he was so far like a tame cat about the court, 
 and ministry, he certainly knew as much of the 
 sacred secrets belonging to each as the sacred 
 people themselves.
 
 16 Three Wives. 
 
 This was a privilege that Lady Audrey delighted 
 in. It gave her an importance which she found 
 superior to rank or riches. And when made, for 
 default of a Countess of Silborough, the head of 
 her brother's magnificent establishment, she had no 
 other wish to gratify. To keep him single was 
 now her sole care, and she was unwearied in her 
 efforts to let him feel that a Countess would be 
 rather in his way than not. 
 
 " Where could he have seen this girl he rather 
 liked V she asked herself, wildly. " Yesterday he 
 only attended the Duchess's morning concert. 
 Who was at it ?" Her quick memory ran over the 
 names of every debutante. "Lady Elizabeth Eller- 
 ton and little Rose Alwyn are the only two girls 
 whose beauty is indisputable. The former he knew 
 last year, and seemed to care little for her ; Rose 
 is not altogether in his style, she is rather noisy. 1 
 pray Heaven it may not be Lady Rose. Adieu to 
 my home here if she is the one !" 
 
 Acting upon the promptings of wisdom, Lady 
 Audrey schooled herself to say quietly, 
 
 u I have wondered once or twice whether you 
 have noticed the faultless high-breeding of Eliza- 
 beth Ellerton." 
 
 " That is the girl ! I overheard her and pretty
 
 Three Wives. 17 
 
 flippant Rose Alwyn discoursing on matrimony at 
 the concert yesterday. Lady Rose discovered my 
 propinquity after awhile, but Lady Elizabeth ig- 
 nored it altogether. As you say, she carries her 
 good blood with a fitting air, yet she has a healthy 
 cheek and brilliant eye, showing that it arises 
 from no delicacy of constitution. I think she is a 
 girl who would give me very little trouble as a wife." 
 
 " Do you mean that she is stupid !" 
 
 Lord Silborough paused. It must be owned 
 that it was the impression on his mind that Lady 
 Elizabeth was stupid, and that it was a merit in 
 his eyes she w r as so. At the same time it was the 
 last thing he meant to do to allow it to his sister. 
 She would make every use of the expression to his 
 own and his now intended wife's confusion. 
 
 " She is extremely shy, and I like it in her. The 
 fault of the girls of the present day is, you have 
 nothing to teach them. On the contrary, they 
 teach you." 
 
 " Rose Alwyn, for instance." 
 
 " True ; but what can you expect from such a 
 mother? She is the most unscrupulous woman I 
 know, and ought to be forbidden all intercourse 
 with a daughter as soon as she is married." 
 
 "Her blood will break out in the daughter, 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 Three Wives, 
 
 though they are separated with ever so much care." 
 " Very likely ; but I am not going to experi- 
 mentalise on the future. One advantage my 
 Elizabeth possesses — she has no mother." 
 " Your Elizabeth ! Have you proposed ?" 
 " No, but I have been thinking of her so much, 
 she already seems to belong to me." 
 
 " Her grandmother looks very high for her." 
 " I know that — I honour her for it. She will 
 be pleased to look so high as me." 
 
 " Vain fellow ! But there is no doubt about it, 
 you are, though a widower with one child, and that 
 the heir, undeniably the best match of the season." 
 " With a scrupulous old dame like Lady Eller- 
 toiij my being a widower with one child will be 
 rather in my favour. She will think I have sown 
 my wild oats." 
 
 " Ha! ha ! so she will. When will you propose I" 
 " Not yet awhile. My Elizabeth is even younger 
 in feelings than in looks. I must get her accus- 
 tomed to me. 1 like a girl to be at that stage of 
 her life when she would rather not marry than 
 marry, and this I am convinced is the condition of 
 the stately young Elizabeth, though this is her 
 second season." 
 
 " I think that is owing to the manner in which
 
 Three Wives. 19 
 
 her grandmother has educated her. She employed 
 a model religious governess, and being a model 
 religious woman herself, they have made Lady 
 Elizabeth a model religious girl !" 
 
 " I do not think they have made anything of her 
 as yet, I am happy to say. They have left that to 
 me. She will expand under my tuition into every- 
 thing I could wish." 
 
 " Well, accept my congratulations." 
 
 " Thank you, Audrey. By the by, there will 
 be no reason for you to turn out." 
 
 " Much obliged. It would be inconvenient, cer- 
 tainly, to move in the middle of the season. Be- 
 sides, Buckhurst has every prospect of a place, and 
 it would be horrid just as one was settled to turn 
 out again." 
 
 " By all means stay to suit your own conveni- 
 ence. Ta-ta." 
 
 Lord Silborough knew his sister's character very 
 well, but not as well as he ought, otherwise he 
 would not have placed in such unscrupulous hands a 
 promise of this kind. While she mentally resolved 
 her convenience would be difficult to suit, she 
 rushed up to the suite of apartments set aside for 
 herself, her husband, and two little girls, to seek 
 for him. 
 
 c 2
 
 20 Three Wives, 
 
 Lullington Buckhurst, without being a bad man, 
 was capable of everything that was bad. He only 
 wanted the provocation. Being prosperous, fairly 
 rich, happily married, duly appreciated, he had no 
 opportunity of being a villain. Prosperity was 
 pleased to make him good, in spite of bad propen- 
 sities. In this instance riches, so far from being a 
 curse, proved a safeguard. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Buckhurst, fancy what news I 
 have to tell you !" 
 
 u Bad, I can see, by your face." 
 
 " Silborough is going to marry !" 
 
 "Nonsense ! What a fool he is 1" 
 
 " But he is just foolish enough to be extremely 
 obstinate." 
 
 " When did he propose ?" 
 
 " He has not done so yet ; the girl is that good- 
 looking, well-bred Elizabeth Ellerton." 
 
 " I never saw him even speak to her. I fancied 
 he thought her extremely stupid, as all the men do." 
 
 " He is pleased to see something in her that they 
 do not. Lull, what are we to do ?" 
 
 " I am sure I do not know if you do not. Wo- 
 men are never at a loss to damage one of their 
 own sex." 
 
 "I do not see my way to do it. She stands too
 
 Three Wives. 21 
 
 high, not only with regard to herself, but her 
 family. Fancy blowing upon old Lady Ellerton. 
 The woman would not mind slaying me in her 
 righteous wrath." 
 
 u The whole Ellerton family are deadly good and 
 punctilious. And the pains I have taken with 
 Silborough's bachelor pleasures — 'tis most ungrate- 
 ful of him." 
 
 " And the trouble I have undergone about his 
 house, and all his fid -fads and whims* Really 'tis 
 too provoking." 
 
 " Don't cry, there is this comfort — he has not 
 proposed, and he may find, on nearer acquaintance, 
 that she is not what he thought her." 
 
 Lady Audrey shook her head. 
 
 "He is bent on matrimony for his own sake, as 
 he told me he thought it would steady him." 
 
 " Hang the fellow ! he is not half as wild as 
 some of the married men I know." 
 
 " You, for instance," exclaimed Lady Audrey, 
 with a sudden jealous pang. 
 
 " Pooh ! Audrey, be satisfied ; or at all events 
 lay my sins in the right quarter — your own desire 
 to keep Silborough unmarried. It behoves me to 
 go and get myself written down in the minds of 
 those worthies, our rulers, as a poor victim turned
 
 22 Three Wives. 
 
 out of house and home. So let me begone." 
 
 " Silborough told me I might stay here as long 
 as it suited my convenience." 
 
 " Let that be a precious long time, my Audrey. 
 One does not willingly give up such a cook or such 
 wines. Meantime, there is no harm in my trading 
 on our probable destitution." 
 
 " Be cautious, Buckhurst ; remember the pro- 
 posal is not made." 
 
 " Oh ! I have no desire to quarrel with Sil- 
 borough ; very far from it. I shall just take a turn 
 in the Park, and remark as nearly within reach of 
 his ear, that there is not a seat or a figure to com- 
 pare to the Ellerton, and then betake myself to a 
 little real diplomatic business." 
 
 " My belief is that if he is to marry, the Ellerton 
 girl, as you call her, will suit us better than any 
 one else." 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you. She is eminently 
 sweet-tempered, stupid, and good. In your hands, 
 Audrey, she can successfully maintain these excel- 
 lent qualities without learning that the world re- 
 quires something more." 
 
 " Don't be too sure ; stupid people are so remark- 
 ably provoking at the most inconvenient times."
 
 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " I pray thee cease thy counsel, 
 Which falls upon mine ear as profitless 
 As water in a sieve. Give me not counsel, 
 Nor let no comforter delight mine ear." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 MAMMA, 'tis all over." 
 "What, my dear!" 
 
 "Any hope that I shall be Countess of Sil- 
 borough." 
 
 " My dearest Rose — how do you know ? Is the 
 marriage given out f" 
 
 " Not that I know of. In fact, he cannot have 
 proposed, judging by what I saw at the Duchess's 
 concert yesterday. But he rode with Elizabeth 
 Ellerton three times up and down the Row just 
 now; and Raby, the one they call ' Gaby,' declared 
 to me he overheard the pop. And there was that 
 handsome man, Polly Buckhurst, his brother-in- 
 law, looking all smiles as they passed by together, 
 and like a demon when their backs were turned.
 
 24 Three Wives. 
 
 You may be sure, mamma, if Polly Buckhurst did 
 that, lie knows the matter is pretty nearly settled. 
 Really it made me quite sick to see him." 
 
 The pretty, joyous face of Lady Rose was sud- 
 denly deluged with a gush of tears. She struggled 
 hard to hide them from her mother, by turning 
 away and pretending to remove her hat. But her 
 mother did see them, and, astonished and alarmed 
 that a child of hers, brought up as she had 
 brought her up, should show such symptoms of 
 having feelings, not to say heart, she was totally 
 dumbfounded for the minute. But the urgency of 
 the case prompted a quick bouleversement of such 
 a dangerous state of things. Nevertheless it would 
 be fatal to notice the tears. 
 
 " As for Polly Buckhurst, he is the most selfish 
 creature of my acquaintance. I shall never forget 
 his abominable conduct at the Palace supper. He 
 knew he only had to ask for a chair for me, inti- 
 mate as he is there, and I ready to faint with 
 standing. He merely grinned at me when I point- 
 edly asked him to do me the favour, saying, 
 1 Really he was not master of the house.' If ever 
 you are Lady Silborough, Rose, revenge me." 
 
 " But, mamma, I tell you my chance is over." 
 
 And Rose's voice was dangerously tremulous.
 
 Three Wives. 25 
 
 u Oh ! nonsense, my dear ! Never lose heart. I 
 have had more compliments about your beauty and 
 lively manners, in one week, than was ever accord- 
 ed me in a whole season. That young Rabyisonly 
 a gaby, and was doing what is the most fashionable 
 thing to do in London, lying." 
 
 " Yes, is it not shocking, mamma, the unabashed 
 fibs people will tell ? I declare it makes me feel 
 quite, sometimes, as if I wish I was still in the 
 country." 
 
 " I will never believe for a moment," continued 
 Lady Alwyn, thinking it prudent to ignore Rose's 
 heterodox opinions, " that a girl so stupid as Eliza- 
 beth Ellerton can be admired and liked more than 
 my pretty, spirituel Rose." 
 
 u But, mamma, I cannot help observing that the 
 stupid, quiet girls get married sooner than the 
 lively, clever ones. I am sure I do not know why 
 the men choose them for w T ives, seeing they always 
 like to laugh, and flirt, and talk with us." 
 
 And again Lady Rose's tears gushed over. 
 
 " This is a most wonderful age for non-marry- 
 ing. And the truth is, men are so spoilt, so sought 
 after, and have so many luxuries of one kind or 
 another, they really do not care to marry. Only 
 those who are obliged to provide heirs for the f u-
 
 26 Three Wives. 
 
 ture. I hear little Lord Nugent is just as sickly 
 as his mother." 
 
 "It will make no matter tome if he is," an- 
 swered Rose, a little sulkily. 
 
 u Come, child," said her mother peremptorily, 
 " there's as good fish in the sea as ever was taken 
 out. Lord Silborough is not the only parti." 
 
 " But he is the best — and — and — somehow, I 
 had settled — that is — I had got to like him a little!" 
 
 " Then that was most absurd, after all my ad- 
 vice. Nothing disgusts a man so much as seeing 
 a woman is fond of him. I thought you would 
 have known better, Rose." 
 
 Rose snatched her hat from the table, and with 
 a sudden and irrepressible wail of grief, vanished 
 from the room. Her mother, though a worldly 
 woman, was fond of her children. She had spoken 
 rather sharply to Rose, hoping to rouse her pride — 
 but she was scarcely aware how much of temper 
 and mortification belonging to herself she per- 
 mitted to be shown also. 
 
 To lose the best parti of the season, and to be 
 told by her mother that she did so from her own 
 fault, might well upset the sunny temper of Lady 
 Rose. And if it was true that such a giddy little 
 worldly thing had been made to feel she had a
 
 Three Wives. 27 
 
 heart, a tender mother would have followed to 
 soothe and comfort her. But Lady Alvvyn had no 
 tenderness of feeling, though she was fond of her 
 children. She sat for half an hour, full of vex- 
 ation and worry. At the end of that time she 
 went to seek her husband. 
 
 Lord Alwyn was a good-natured, simple, coun- 
 trified gentleman, who was completely managed by 
 his clever wife. He had of course a few whims 
 and conceits of his own, which she took care so to 
 foster and encourage, that he was beguiled into 
 thinking them both important and remarkable. 
 Down in the country he rode these hobbies with 
 vast content to himself, and much admiration 
 amongst those around. In the whirl of London, 
 he and his crotchets were swept about, like the 
 dead leaves of winter by a mad March wind. 
 
 Thus, if he had dared to breathe so monstrous 
 a thought, he would have said that he disliked 
 London. But too well tutored by wife and daugh- 
 ter, he went through the London season with ad- 
 mirable patience and equanimity, comforting himself 
 with the pleasing idea if he was unhappy, it was 
 in the cause of his family and country. 
 
 " My dear Alwyn," exclaimed his lady, bolting 
 into his sanctum with the vivacity which warned him
 
 28 Three Wives. 
 
 of some crisis, " are you going down to the Club?" 
 
 " Well, my love, I have not as yet settled what 
 I shall do. Probably I may step in as I go to the 
 House." 
 
 " No, you must go at once — or, at all events, 
 after luncheon. Poor little Rosie, I wonder if the 
 man gave her any reason " 
 
 " Rosie !" interrupted Lord Alwyn. He was a 
 very fond father. 
 
 " Yes — by-the-by, did you not go with her to the 
 Row r 
 
 " Yes — we have just returned. No accident 
 occurred — she rode the young horse remar " 
 
 " I know that," interrupted her brusque lady- 
 ship ; " but did you hear any reports ?" 
 
 " Yes, they say Goldsborough is going out." 
 
 " Nonsense ! — about Lord Silborough." 
 
 "He wall never be admitted into the Cabinet. 
 Vast influence, doubtless, but no brains." 
 
 " My dear Alwyn, excuse me. Rosie has heard 
 he is going to be married ; and somehow the fool- 
 ish child has rather taken a fancy to him." 
 
 u No, really — a most excellent match. Let me 
 tell you, love, that he is the best parti of the season." 
 
 Lady Alwyn contented herself with a smile of 
 contempt at being informed of what not only
 
 Three Wives. 29 
 
 she, but the whole world, were so cognisant. 
 
 " I want you just to saunter about amongst the 
 clubs, and find out, if you can, what is said about 
 it. We must not have our bright little Rose made 
 unhappy." 
 
 u Of course not — I will go at once." 
 
 " No one will be there now." 
 
 " A good many take their luncheon there, and 
 while away an hour or two before going to the 
 Houses. I think it as well to go, Sophy," continued 
 the anxious father. 
 
 " Well, you know best ; but remember to appear 
 perfectly indifferent. Really, the world is so ex- 
 tremely ill-natured, the least hint as to Rose's dis- 
 appointment will be all over the town before mid- 
 night." 
 
 "I will be very careful," answered her hus- 
 band ; " my child's good name is as dear to me as 
 her happiness." 
 
 "And you will return here and let us know. 
 There are two balls to-night, and I should like, if 
 there is any truth in it, just to show Rose's face, 
 bright and blooming as ever, in the Park. One 
 cannot be too careful regarding a slur of disap- 
 pointment getting attached to a girl's name. The 
 men are very like monkeys, most imitative."
 
 30 Three Wives. 
 
 Lord Alwyn, a perfect specimen of the mild 
 British nobleman, started leisurely on his errand. 
 He was absent nearly two hours, and came back 
 with a quicker step than when he left. 
 
 " I am afraid, my love," said he, when closeted 
 with his wife, " 'tis all very true. I went first 
 to Brookes's. I had a mind to see what sort of 
 cook they have there now, and so ordered luncheon 
 — a whiting " 
 
 "Oh ! never mind luncheon, think of my anxiety." 
 
 " I did not hear much there, beyond hearing 
 it remarked that Lord Silborough had 'ridden 
 with the ' Ellerton.' Bad taste in the young men 
 of the present style calling the young ladies after 
 the same fashion they do their horses." 
 
 " That is not the only bad fashion they have," 
 said Lady Alwyn, bitterly ; " but go on. Did 
 they say he had proposed V 
 
 " No, love; all that they said further was, would 
 he be disposed to make the same splendid settle- 
 ments on his second wife as he did on his first ?" 
 
 " Of course, he ought to do so," exclaimed 
 Lady Alwyn, eagerly. 
 
 Her husband looked at her, and being unusual- 
 ly alive to what was going on around, he smiled, 
 and answered, " If he marries Eose."
 
 Three Wives, 31 
 
 " How can you tease me, Alwyn ? You have 
 just intimated he is not inclined to marry Rose." 
 
 " I went to the Junior Carlton after leaving 
 Brookes's, having noticed a lot of young men pour- 
 ing in. By- the- by, my love, what a dreadful 
 habit the young men have got of calling each 
 other odd names ! I was introduced to one or 
 two, but, I assure you, who they are I am wholly 
 at a loss to conceive. There was Sop, and Tubs, 
 and Nigger, and the name of Polly was banded 
 about ; but, of course, I cannot suppose they were 
 talking of a lady." 
 
 "Of course not ; it was Polly Buckhurst, Lord 
 Silborough's brother-in-law, who is most interested 
 in preventing any marriage, as he and his wife 
 not only rule him, but everything belonging to 
 his magnificent establishment." 
 
 " Well, my love, I made out that this Polly has 
 already made known his dissatisfaction, for every 
 young man's mouth was opened on him, describing 
 some scene which took place in the Row to-day, 
 and of which I really saw nothing." 
 
 u But Rose did — however, go on." 
 
 " I became a little confused with the whirl of 
 tongues, and the names they called each other, 
 and the row ; so, after finishing the paper I had
 
 32 Three Wives. 
 
 taken up, I went to the ( Travellers.' There I 
 heard that Lord Silborough had proposed to Lady 
 Elizabeth Ellerton more than a week ago, but that 
 her grandmother was stickling about the settle- 
 ments. The late Lady Silborough's relations 
 make no objection to the marriage, but they de- 
 mur at any wife of lesser rank having the same 
 settlement as she had. It was suitable for a 
 princess. Old Lady Ellerton contends her grand- 
 daughter has as good blood, and shows it better 
 than the late Lady Silborough." 
 
 " And quite right too. I applaud the old lady, 
 and hope she will stick out for the last penny." 
 
 " After hearing as much as I saw they had to 
 tell, I turned into the Carlton. Silborough was 
 there himself, so I could not hear much, except 
 that one or two men, as they came in, congratu- 
 lated him. 'What about?' he asked, angrily. 
 I could see, Sophy, he was vexed at something. 
 Whether it is about settlements, as they said at 
 the ' Travellers,' or that Rumour, who is so ima- 
 ginative, has overtaken his intention, I cannot say. 
 Rumour has generally some ground on which to 
 stand." 
 
 " By no means, Alwyn. Rumour has had no- 
 thing in this instance to stand on but the simple
 
 Three Wives. 33 
 
 fact that he rode up and down the Row with her." 
 
 " But the man they call Polly !" 
 
 " Oh ! he is a fool. I daresay the fright he is 
 always in lest he and his wife should be hurled 
 from their lofty perch makes him more apprehen- 
 sive than he need be. I shall go and comfort 
 Kose." 
 
 " Be careful, Sophy ; our child's happiness — " 
 
 " Of course, is all I care about. But your 
 news, so far from being bad, I consider extremely 
 good. Don't you see that if Lord Silborough has 
 intimated to his sister his intention to marry — if 
 Lady Elizabeth is his choice — if he was so annoy- 
 ed as you describe him to have been at the club — - 
 why, of course, these premature congratulations 
 will sicken him of the whole affair. If you want 
 to stop a match, my dear Alwyn, talk about it. 
 He intends to marry, or he would not have told 
 his sister, which I conclude he did, or Polly Buck- 
 hurst would not have been on the watch. If the 
 town marry him to Elizabeth Ellerton before he 
 has had time to inform them himself, he won't 
 have her. He will suddenly, as is the way with 
 men who have had their own way all their lives, 
 overthrow all their expectations, while he fulfils 
 his own design to marry. After Lady Elizabeth, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 Three Wives, 
 
 there is no girl to compare with Eose— ergo " 
 
 " Don't, my love— pray don't say any more. 
 We must not give away our Rose after that fash- 
 ion." 
 
 " Rose shall go in good spirits to the ball to- 
 night—of that I am determined."
 
 35 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Thought is deeper than all speech ; 
 Feeling deeper than all thought ; 
 Souls to souls can never teach 
 What unto themselves was taught." 
 
 Crouch. 
 
 " HT"^" ^ ove? k ere * s a note fr° m Lady Audrey 
 
 ■***■ Buckhurst, asking if she can be of any use 
 to you as a chaperon to-night." 
 
 " Miss Cheverill is coming this evening, is she 
 not, grandmamma ?" 
 
 " Yes, she is, but she will be leaving, as you 
 go to the ball; — it will please her to see you 
 dressed." 
 
 u I do not know Lady Audrey much, grand- 
 mamma ; I half intended asking Miss Cheverill 
 if she thought my voice capable of singing a song 
 I heard at the concert yesterday, which pleased me 
 so much it has been haunting me ever since." 
 
 "Just as you please, Elizabeth," answered her 
 
 d2
 
 36 Three Wives. 
 
 grandmother. " The ball will be the best of the 
 season." 
 
 If the truth must be told, Lady Ellerton, de- 
 scribed already as a model religious woman, was 
 yet at this moment under the influence of a 
 worldly feeling. Some hint had reached her of 
 the ride in the Row. Confessing it was a mark of 
 the strange madness of London society, she had 
 already been congratulated on her grand-daughter's 
 conquest of the best match of the season. Old 
 and experienced, she received the congratulations 
 for what they were worth. At the same time, she 
 gave way to the seduction of the idea. It would 
 gratify her utmost ambition to see her gentle, 
 stately Elizabeth elevated so highly in the world's 
 ranks ; at the same time her excellent heart throbbed 
 with pleasure at the thought of the power which 
 would be placed in her grand-daughter's hands, to 
 benefit and ennoble society. 
 
 Keenly alive to the degeneracy of the present 
 state of society, which if not so absolutely vicious 
 as in her own day, yet was of so frivolous and 
 baleful a character, far-sighted people looked for- 
 ward with dismay to the future, she had educated 
 her grand-daughter with an ultimate view to the 
 power she might possess among the " Upper Ten
 
 Three Wives. 37 
 
 Thousand." At the same time, she had fallen into 
 the feminine error of not taking everything into 
 consideration. 
 
 The Lady Elizabeth's character was eminently 
 gentle and submissive, which qualities are generally 
 accompanied by great shyness. Having taken 
 infinite pains to find a model governess, which 
 Lady Ellerton did in Miss Cheverill, these two 
 good women set themselves to form a model young 
 lady out of one who might be said to be a model 
 of goodness, before they took her in hand. Con- 
 sequently the enthusiasm of virtue awakening in 
 the heart was lost, because it was inculcated by 
 lessons, and finding a ready response, became the 
 habit rather than the instinct. They lost sight of 
 the fact that the purest heart feels the deepest, 
 and that their mode of education should have been 
 to awaken " the fine strain of honour," to rouse the 
 instincts of virtue, leaving them full play to act, 
 while they reserved to themselves the prerogative 
 of controlling them. 
 
 Thus placed in a groove, the boundaries of which 
 her shyness clung to as a friend, the young Eliza- 
 beth became an accomplished, well-educated woman, 
 but remained, in the mere wisdom of the world, 
 still a complete child. No responsibility had ever
 
 38 Three Wives, 
 
 awakened in her heart the struggle between right 
 'and wrong, no circumstance had occurred to move 
 the sweet serenity of her temperament. Envy had 
 no place in any part of her organisation. Indeed, 
 there was nothing in her position in life to permit 
 it even to sprout. Her mind was still like an un- 
 sullied mirror, which had as yet given back no 
 reflection. 
 
 While they rejoiced in the perfection of the 
 automaton they had educated, both grandmother 
 and governess began to perceive the mistake they 
 had made. They were obliged to confess to them- 
 selves they wished she was less shy, they hoped 
 she would begin to think. 
 
 Poor child ! they had done all the thinking for 
 her until she reached the age when shyness becomes 
 a painful possession, and responsibility a dangerous 
 power. They could only console each other by 
 hoping that love might penetrate to the depths of 
 this pure heart, and taking root there, open it to 
 all the sweet sympathies and affections of humanity. 
 Hitherto they had waited in vain, until this evening, 
 when Rumour flying about London, like the madcap 
 it was, flung its anticipatory congratulations into 
 the lap of Lady Ellerton. 
 
 And there must be some truth in the rumour,
 
 Three Wives. 39 
 
 else why did Lady Audrey Buckhurst make the 
 proffer of chaperonship ? Lady Ellerton felt she 
 was justified in just probing her grand-daughter's 
 thoughts a little. 
 
 " The ball will be the best of the season," she 
 repeated; "and I suppose, as Lady Audrey is 
 going, her brother will be there." 
 
 " Who is her brother !" asked the simple Lady 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 " My child ! Lord Silborough !" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I had forgotten. He rode with me 
 to-day in the Park, grandmamma, and I could not 
 help thinking how sad it was for him, losing his 
 young pretty wife as he did, only two years after 
 his marriage. And she left a dear little boy !" 
 
 " I like what I have seen of him." 
 
 " So do I, grandmamma ; he does not talk the 
 nonsense so many people do. At least, it may not 
 be nonsense, but I cannot understand them." 
 
 " I have heard to-day he is going to be married." 
 
 " Did you, grandmamma ? I hope it is to some 
 one who will love his little boy. Perhaps it is 
 Lady Kose Alwyn." And the gentle Elizabeth's 
 face brightened into one of those gleams of beauty 
 that always accompanied the awakening of an idea 
 in her placid mind.
 
 40 Three Wives. 
 
 "Why do you think of her?" 
 
 Elizabeth was too loyal to repeat the conversa- 
 tion at the concert, and was silent. Her grand- 
 mother understood at once she had something to 
 tell, yet would not tell it. Of course, in one so 
 singularly incomprehensive as she acknowledged 
 her grand-daughter to be, this something that she 
 would not tell must have been very marked. 
 
 Reluctantly she allowed to herself that as long 
 as they had something to talk about, the London 
 world did not care if they put the right names to- 
 gether or not. Nothing could have occurred of a 
 peculiar nature between Lord Silborough and Lady 
 Elizabeth, because she was as unconscious as a 
 child in speaking of him ; while something must 
 have happened between him and Lady Rose, for 
 her grand-daughter to remark it. A little wonder- 
 ing at his taste, a little vexed, as usual, whenever 
 she was reminded of the too great simplicity of her 
 grand-daughter, she said suddenly, 
 
 " Bring me my desk, Elizabeth, that I may 
 write your excuses to Lady Audrey." 
 
 " Pray suffer me to write them, grandmamma ; 
 this is your time for being quiet." 
 
 Her grandmother thanked her, and gathering 
 her fine Shetland shawl round her, composed her-
 
 Three Wives. 41 
 
 self among her cushions. " What have you said, 
 Elizabeth ? " 
 
 Her grand-daughter read the letter aloud. After 
 appropriate thanks, she pleaded an engagement with 
 her governess — namely, the exact truth ; Lady El- 
 lerton's conscience was sadly at war with her wishes. 
 
 " It seems hardly excuse enough, Elizabeth." 
 
 " Would you rather I accepted, grandmamma f 
 
 "No, child. Let the note go. If she is of- 
 fended, we cannot help it." 
 
 And the note went. An insignificant note in 
 itself, but of vast importance as it happened, 
 though Lady Ellerton never knew this fact. 
 
 Miss Cheverill arrived in due time, and their 
 dinner passed in much the same manner as count- 
 less of their dinners had passed before. Miss 
 Cheverill was a little given to improve the occasion, 
 and uniformly forbade all conversation upon persons. 
 
 " One is so apt to say more than one ought in 
 talking of persons," she would remark, "and there 
 is no occasion to do so, when one has such a fund 
 of conversation in things." 
 
 But Lady Ellerton was not so alert as usual in 
 assisting her ; while the gentle Elizabeth had al- 
 ways felt it her duty to listen respectfully rather 
 than mix her childish ideas with their experienced
 
 42 Three Wives. 
 
 ones. In truth, Lady Ellerton could not avoid re- 
 curring to the congratulations she had received, 
 and the supreme pleasure it had given her to hear 
 them, which pleasure she found increasing with 
 every fresh thought of them. The rivalship of 
 Lady Rose faded from her mind. She was more 
 and more convinced her grand-daughter's fate 
 hung on a crisis, and she felt as if she never could 
 forgive herself if this crisis passed away owing to 
 her excessive supineness in not accepting the offer 
 of Lady Audrey Buckhurst. 
 
 In the midst of her increasing and unavailing 
 regrets, she was roused by Miss Cheverill saying, 
 
 "Yes, my dear Elizabeth, youth must be so 
 employed as not to embitter the decline of life. 
 An old age like your grandmamma's is one of the 
 most beautiful things to contemplate. It pleases 
 me to think you do not regret a ball, when spend- 
 ing an evening with her." 
 
 " Elizabeth would not have gone to the ball 
 until I was in bed," interrupted the old lady. 
 
 "Yes," said the truthful Elizabeth; "and I 
 must confess that, besides wishing for your help 
 in mastering the difficulties of this song, I was 
 feeling a little shy at being chaperoned by an al- 
 most stranger."
 
 Three Wives, 43 
 
 Miss Cheverill, disappointed in her little effort 
 to applaud and instruct her former pupil at one 
 and the same moment, had nothing left her but 
 to agree with the grandmother, while she play- 
 fully remonstrated against any further indulgence 
 in shyness. 
 
 " We have often lamented, both of us, that we 
 did not take earlier measures to cure you, Eliza- 
 beth, of this shyness ; did we not, Lady Ellerton V 9 
 
 u Yes," answered Lady Ellerton ; u and her 
 second season seems to leave her even more shy 
 than her first." 
 
 The colour rose in the cheeks of Lady Eliza- 
 beth. She seemed as if she was being reproached. 
 Never before had such a circumstance occurred to 
 her. The sweetness of her temper prevented any- 
 thing like a reply or remonstrance. She sat si- 
 lently waiting for what they might be pleased to 
 say further on the subject. But it appeared they 
 had both said all they thought necessary. The 
 infallibility of her confidence in both, made Eliza- 
 beth feel that she was not altogether acting quite 
 as they liked. Yet how was she to discover what 
 they did want if they did not tell ? They might 
 be very sure she would obey them. 
 
 But they issued no orders at all, and nothing
 
 44 Three Wines. 
 
 particular was said until they went into the draw- 
 ing-room, where the first thing they all saw was 
 two notes on Lady Ellerton's table. 
 
 "If one is kindly written again by Lady Aud- 
 rey, dear grandmamma, I will go and dress for 
 the ball." 
 
 "No, my dear," answered her grandmother, 
 " they are neither of them addressed in her hand- 
 writing. Go and try your song while I read them." 
 
 In truth Lady Ellerton desired to be alone, 
 when she read them, for the first was addressed in 
 the old-fashioned handwriting of the Duchess of 
 Stradarven, a lady of her own age, and formerly a 
 friend. The long seclusion of Lady Ellerton, and 
 the worldly state and dignity of the Duchess, had 
 interrupted a friendship that had been true and 
 strong while it lasted. The Duchess had been 
 grandmother to the first Lady Silborough. Why 
 did she write to her former friend on a momentous 
 day such as this had been ? Lady Ellerton's tui- 
 tion was not at fault. 
 
 "My dear old Friend, — I have just been 
 told that Silborough likes your pretty stately Eli- 
 zabeth. How far it is true, who can tell in the 
 wild state society is in at present. But I write 
 just a line to say, nothing would gratify me more.
 
 Three Wives, 45 
 
 Just one hint. Do not let punctilio stand in the 
 way of a marriage so eminently satisfactory to all 
 parties ; and when you can speak for a certainty, 
 just put out of suspense your ever affectionate 
 
 " F. Stradarven." 
 
 The other letter was from Lady Ellerton's son, 
 the Earl of Ellerton, uncle to Elizabeth : — 
 
 " My dearest Mother, — Is it true that Sil- 
 borough has proposed to Elizabeth ? I cannot 
 sufficiently congratulate you, if it is so. Pray send 
 me a line, I hope of confirmation, that I may feli- 
 citate her to-night at the ball, where of course she 
 will show herself, the envy of everybody. I have 
 as yet said nothing of this at home ; 1 wait until I 
 hear from you. For though the clubs were full of it, 
 and even spoke of a disagreement between you 
 and Silborough as to settlements, I am confident 
 you would have sent for me. Should this prove 
 only one of those unfortunate canards that people 
 fling so recklessly about, I need not caution you as 
 to the manner of treating it. Let her be seen 
 everywhere, and persuade the dear child to rattle a 
 little if she can, after the manner of other girls. 
 It is a cruel habit people have got into lately of 
 spoiling many a suitable marriage by anticipating
 
 46 Three Wives. 
 
 the actual proposal. The messenger will wait for 
 a reply. Ever your affectionate son, Ellerton." 
 
 Lady Ellerton answered the first note with dig- 
 nified pleasure — dwelling more on the happiness 
 of seeing the well-known hand-writing, and read- 
 ing the kind expressions so long remembered of 
 former years, than the subject of it. She merely 
 touched delicately on the tendency of London 
 society to amuse itself with a new report every 
 day; but she could not resist a little grandmotherly 
 pride in the sweet grand-daughter that had been so 
 long her care. 
 
 " I am so happy," she wrote, " as to have no 
 fault to find with my Elizabeth, but the pardonable 
 one of being a little shy. And I fear, in this fast 
 and reckless age, 1 regard it at times even as a 
 virtue, I have great confidence in my hope that, 
 in whatever position it may please God to place her, 
 she will prove worthy of it." 
 
 To her son Lady Ellerton permitted herself the 
 comfort of a little outpouring of her heart. If she 
 was a little bitter as to the selfish folly that played 
 so carelessly with important fate, she was to be par- 
 doned. She looked up from her paper and saw 
 the beautiful gentle girl standing at the piano,
 
 Three Wives. 47 
 
 singing with infinite sweetness. And as she could 
 not but admire the faultless form, the sweet ex- 
 pression, she proudly assured herself the mind 
 within was still more pure and perfect. Surely if 
 a man had cast it over in his heart that she would 
 suit him for a wife, let him be the highest in the 
 land, he must acknowledge, the more he knew of 
 her, the more she would grow upon his liking. 
 
 But her notes must be dispatched. The even- 
 ing wore away, Miss Cheverill departed, Elizabeth 
 received her grandmother's kiss and good night in 
 the same fashion she had ever done, without an 
 apparent thought of the gossip of London, or the 
 trouble that had assailed the heart of her grand- 
 mother. For she knew of neither, as her grand- 
 mother was obliged to confess. 
 
 " You do not seem to regret the ball, Elizabeth." 
 
 "I had forgotten all about it, grandmamma. I 
 am not sure if a quiet evening, as this has been, 
 is not very pleasant, in the midst of so much gaiety." 
 
 " I fancy Miss Cheverill and I have made you 
 too grave, my dear." 
 
 "Tell me, grandmamma, how you would wish 
 me to be different." 
 
 " Indeed, my darling, I know not how to wish 
 you better."
 
 48 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Her true beauty leaves behind 
 Apprehensions in my mind 
 Of more sweetness than all art 
 Or inventions can impart." 
 
 Wither. 
 
 ~1TTE have attended a good many conferences of 
 ' ' one sort or another, and entered into the 
 most secret recesses of one or two hearts. There 
 is one more it would be as well to know something 
 of, and for that purpose we will enter the luxuriant 
 and beautiful room the Earl of Silborough was 
 wont to call his library. 
 
 He is seated in a chair of Oriental luxury and 
 softness: he has a table on one side of him, heaped 
 up with books and magazines, with another as 
 close bearing antique bottles, curiously-carved 
 glasses, and every luxury in the way of wine. The 
 room is full of the perfume of roses, mirrors reflect 
 its costly fittings and priceless pictures, and there 
 is nothing that the heart of man could devise as a
 
 Three Wives. 49 
 
 want that is not within it. Yet at this moment 
 Lord Silborough is, as is the fashion of men, re- 
 lieving a fit of ill-humour by pouring forth a tor- 
 rent of bad language no pen could lend itself to 
 write down. Books are sent flying to the other 
 end of the room, a glass or two is shivered, and still 
 the torrent pours on. At last milder terms may 
 be recorded. " It is all the doing of Audrey. I 
 was a fool to tell her. She has told Polly, and he 
 has divulged it, and now the whole of London is 
 ringing with it, while the idea only came into my 
 own head yesterday afternoon. One is almost 
 tempted to wish oneself a clodhopper, for the mere 
 luxurv of being able to move without beina: noticed. 
 I won't go out this evening — I will go to Paris to- 
 morrow. I will be off to Norway — Africa !" 
 
 Another burst of unwritable language. Then 
 a reasonable moment. 
 
 " After all, they will only laugh at me. 'Tis 
 best to brave it out. I'll go to the ball to-night, 
 but I won't even see her. I will flirt with the 
 ugliest girl there. No, they will see through that, 
 confound them ! I will dance with her, perhaps. 
 Well, I will see about that. I will make up to 
 little Rose Alwyn. At all events, I will rescind 
 my order about the carriage. I wonder if Audrey 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 Three Wives. 
 
 is at home. I shall quarrel with her if I see her. 
 I will have my dinner here, and say I am not to 
 be disturbed. I will go to the ball or not, just as 
 I feel in the humour when the time comes." 
 
 Having soothed and calmed his soul by these 
 promises, Lord Silborough tried to read the papers, 
 tried to read a book, tried to snooze. He was 
 most indifferently successful in all three efforts. 
 Fortunately the time came for dinner, which he 
 ate in slippers and dressing-gown. The dinner 
 was excellent, and the effect of its excellence was 
 visible in the improvement of his temper. 
 
 "After all, these bachelor habits are very se- 
 ducing," he said to himself, as he lolled back on 
 his comfortable cushions, and sipped his wine ; 
 "I don't think I shall go out. And yet it will be 
 very dull here all the evening by myself. That's 
 why I think a wife a good thing for a man to 
 have — it settles him, and gives him an object. 
 After all, they will be madly hot after some other 
 report to-morrow — I will invent one for their 
 amusement, and put it about in the ball-room to- 
 night. They will leave me and my concerns alone 
 for something new. Let me see, what shall it be ? 
 Goldsborough is about to appear in a Cresswell
 
 Three Wives. 51 
 
 case ! — Alwyn has been seen at the Alhambra ! — 
 Sop's grandmother has come to see after him ! — 
 the Chimpanzee is going to be married by the 
 Bishop of London to the Ring-tailed Monkey ! — 
 any folly will do for these people. But 'tis time to 
 dress — half-past eleven." 
 
 The Earl of Silborough having recovered his 
 good-humour, and, like many persons who have 
 been in a passion, becoming, as the calm after a 
 storm, more sweetly amiable afterwards, repaired 
 to the different places at which he had promised to 
 show his face, winding up with the ball, which 
 was rightly supposed to be the ball of the season. 
 The first person he saw was Lady Rose Alwyn, 
 whose pretty, sparkling face grew prettier and 
 brighter as he approached. 
 
 " I declare I thought you were not coming at 
 all !" she exclaimed, pettishly. 
 
 " Did you miss me V he replied, carelessly. 
 
 " Of course people miss Lord Silborough." 
 
 " Do they really ? I fear I am ungrateful, I 
 do not seem to miss them." 
 
 " They want to congratulate you." 
 
 "By all means— congratulations never come 
 amiss." 
 
 E 2
 
 52 Three Wives. 
 
 , Lady Rose felt too much to dare to say more ; 
 and, to hide her blushes, affected to arrange her 
 flowers. 
 
 "Will you dance ?" asked Lord Silborough, drift- 
 ing into anything to which Fate might lead him, 
 though, in truth, he thought it politic to dance with 
 Lady Rose first, so that it might not seem singular 
 whom he danced with after. After one or two 
 turns, and satisfying himself Lady Elizabeth was 
 not to be seen, he asked Lady Rose, " Where is 
 your foil to-night ? " 
 
 " My foil !" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes ; don't you know that London has de- 
 creed that you and Lady Elizabeth Ellerton are 
 foils to each other?" 
 
 " 'Tis lucky for me that she is not here to-night. 
 I have not seen her, and people have been hinting 
 you were the cause." 
 
 " How so ? Poor girl ! I will go away if you 
 will send for her." 
 
 " Nonsense ! — you know I mean that her ab- 
 sence and your late arrival, coupled with Polly 
 Buckhurst's announcement " 
 
 " What ! am I indebted to Polly for being 
 smothered to-day with congratulations ?" 
 
 " Of course you are ; and how could it be other-
 
 Three Wives. 53 
 
 wise, when you rode three times up and down the 
 Row with her V ' 
 
 " And, do you know, I am going to do so to- 
 morrow, and every day for a fortnight." 
 
 " For a bet ! — oh ! how delightful ! Do tell me, 
 is it not for a bet, and that you are to acknowledge 
 how many times she made a remark to you ?" 
 
 "Well, if you will have it so." 
 
 " Delicious ! Now, will you promise to tell me 
 each day what she says to you ?" 
 
 " Suppose she says nothing ?" 
 
 " That will be still more amusing." 
 
 " Sil," said a voice behind them — it was Lady 
 Audrey — " I want a word with you." 
 
 He went aside with her. 
 
 " I thought it might please you if I offered to 
 chaperon some one that you know of to this ball, so 
 I wrote to offer my services, and had this most ab- 
 surd reply." And Lady Audrey handed her bro- 
 ther the note of refusal written by Elizabeth. 
 
 Lady Audrey hoped to effect two things by this 
 measure : first, to please her brother by her ami- 
 able attentions to the person he thought to make 
 his wife ; and the second to disgust him with her 
 apparent indifference as to courting his society. 
 
 She did neither one nor the other. He had been
 
 54 Three Wives. 
 
 indignant with her for betraying his confidence, 
 and he was now still more indignant at her pre- 
 suming to place herself as a go-between in a mat- 
 ter he designed to manage entirely after his own 
 fashion. And so far from thinking the letter an 
 absurd one, he had the good taste, or the perver- 
 sity, to think it as charming a specimen of an art- 
 less excuse, gracefully expressed, as could have 
 been written. He folded it carefully up and put 
 it into his waistcoat pocket, while he said to his 
 sister, in the cold stern way that she knew ex- 
 pressed his most angry mood, 
 
 " I am glad she had the good taste to refuse 
 what I must consider a most impertinent kindness." 
 
 Mortified, abashed, and conscious that she de- 
 served rebuke for more things than one, Lady 
 Audrey vanished. It was useless to be angry ; 
 but in some natures, if the evil passion within is 
 not allowed vent, it but corrodes the deeper. 
 
 Lady Audrey went to sleep that night, thinking 
 if there was one person in the world she hated, it 
 was the simple, innocent Lady Elizabeth Ellerton. 
 
 Meantime, the giddy Lady Rose spread about 
 the report of the bet; and if the world did not 
 believe it, still they had given a whole day and 
 half a night to Lord Silborough and his affairs,
 
 Three Wives. 55 
 
 and really that was all they could afford him. 
 Something new was brewing — a fortnight was a 
 long time to watch a bet, and a bet about nothing. 
 If he was not going to be married, it was no 
 use thinking about him at all. And if he 
 was going to be married, let him do so, and 
 get it over, that the world might be ready to 
 amuse themselves with something else. In the 
 seething caldron of modern society, no one had 
 time to do more than pop his head for one brief 
 moment up above his fellows, becoming imme- 
 diately lost to view again in the mass. Lord Sil- 
 borough got his head up pretty often, but still he 
 must go down sometimes. Society and fashion 
 demanded it. At present Lord Silborough was 
 perfectly content to be down. He rode the next 
 day by the side of Lady Elizabeth, and scarcely a 
 soul remarked it but the giddy little Rose, who 
 told all who cared to hear, "He was doing his bet." 
 He was doino; something certainlv, and that was 
 falling silently and quietly in love with the soft 
 girlish innocence of Lady Elizabeth. She might 
 be simple — too simple — but her artlessness was so 
 fresh, her truthfulness so transparent, the world- 
 wise man found a charm in them that made an 
 astonishing impression on him. Undoubtedly
 
 56 Three Wives. 
 
 he had loved his first wife, and deeply lamented 
 her loss. But they had loved each other like boy 
 and girl, and he mourned for her as a youth 
 mourns the loss of a pet. He had become a sated 
 man of the world since then, and could better ap- 
 preciate the difference between beauty of the mind 
 and beauty of the face. He learned to under- 
 stand the fact that complete justice had not been 
 done to Lady Elizabeth in her education. Natur- 
 ally slow of comprehension, her imagination and 
 feelings had never been exercised. He was not 
 clever enough himself to have seen that great na- 
 tures are generally quiet ones, and that nobility of 
 character is always accompanied by repose of 
 manner. In the fussy, bustling, eager mind one 
 rarely looks for heroism. They so overshoot the 
 occasion in their energy, that they miss the moment 
 for absolute success. Their impatience makes the 
 occasion, instead of the occasion making the op- 
 portunity. There never was a bustling hero. 
 There never will be a fussy heroine. 
 
 On the whole, Lord Silborough rather congra- 
 tulated himself than not, that the wife he in- 
 tended to have was still so unformed in character. 
 He had caught — and been astonished at the beauty 
 they gave her — one or two of those gleams of anima-
 
 Three Wives. 57 
 
 tion which would burst forth in spite of her con- 
 stitutional shyness. She had, after a few days' 
 riding up and down the Row, nerved herself to 
 ask, of her own accord, of the welfare of the little 
 Lord Nugent ; and since then he had only to speak 
 of him to excite her gentle sympathies.
 
 58 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " The gentle pressure and the thrilling touch, 
 The least glance better understood than words, 
 Which still said all, and ne'er could say too much." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 I" ONDON was prodigiously excited by two 
 ■^ things — the Derby Day, and the appearance 
 of two of the great leaders of the fashion in short 
 petticoats, shorter waists, and no crinolines. 
 
 " The greatest figures I ever beheld, Rosie !" 
 exclaimed her mother ; " but " (with a deep sigh) 
 si I suppose we must do the same. I will send 
 Campbell with all our dresses at once." 
 
 " By no means, mamma ; the fashion will not 
 last long. However mad people may be about it, 
 nobody in these days likes making a guy of him- 
 self." 
 
 " My dear Rose, you are too daring. You will 
 see everybody will appear to-morrow as guys ; it 
 would be different had any other than these two 
 set the fashion."
 
 Three Wives. 59 
 
 " Do as you like, mamma, for yourself, but I 
 won't, so there is an end of it. Gaby says they 
 looked like farthing candles walking about." 
 
 " Rose, Rose, your father cannot bear to hear 
 you talk of the young men as they talk of them- 
 selves !" 
 
 " But Gaby and I are such friends, he does not 
 care what I call him." 
 
 " Now, Rose, that is just a matter I desire to 
 caution you about. Captain Raby is flirting seri- 
 ously with you." 
 
 "But I am not flirting seriously with him, 
 mamma. I only just chatter a little with him to 
 — to provoke Lord Silborough." 
 
 " Does it provoke him ?" 
 
 Cl I do not know, mamma — I wish it did. I be- 
 gin to fancy, after all, he had no bet as to riding 
 with Elizabeth Ellerton. The whole fortnight 
 has passed, and he is still going on riding with 
 her, and this morning I absolutely heard her 
 laughing with him. If she only knew how beau- 
 tiful she looks when she laughs and smiles, she 
 would be always doing it." 
 
 " But does he pay you any attention, Rosie ? — 
 is there anything particular in his manner?" 
 
 "Mamma, you know as much as I do. He
 
 60 
 
 divides his attentions pretty equally between me 
 and Lady Elizabeth ; only he rides daily with her, 
 which he never does with me. He says I go too 
 fast for him." 
 
 "I wonder he does not find the other go too 
 slow." 
 
 " She is so wonderfully refined and well-bred, I 
 think that makes up for her dulness." 
 
 u We have sent him five invitations to dinner, 
 and he has accepted two. I do not think it would 
 be prudent to ask him again too soon." 
 
 Ct No, mamma, especially as he has never been 
 asked to the Ellertons at all, which is so odd of 
 them." 
 
 " They are very proud, and the old lady has 
 been ill. He was at her uncle's ball." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, we saw him there. How ridiculous 
 of them to fancy they could set up a new way of 
 giving a ball !" 
 
 " People like change, Rosie." 
 
 <; Mamma, have you remembered to get papa's 
 permission for me to go to the Derby with the 
 Eabys ? Mind, I must go !" 
 
 " I think the safest plan will be to say nothing 
 until you are gone, for your father is so nervous, 
 and so easily swayed, he will give and withhold
 
 Three Wives. 61 
 
 his consent a dozen times between this and then." 
 " Manage it anyhow you like, so that I go. 
 There will be no Elizabeth Ellerton there, I fancy." 
 But Lady Rose was mistaken. Not only was 
 the Lady Elizabeth at the Derby, but she was in 
 the Stradarven carriage, and Lord Silborough sat 
 by her side. Not only did he arrive on the course 
 sitting by her side, but he sat there nearly all day, 
 only leaving her from a laudable and natural curi- 
 osity to see the race from his private box. Not 
 once did he approach the Raby carriage. Though 
 crowds upon crowds throng together with but one 
 apparent object in view, still there are many hearts 
 among them who are thinking of anything rather 
 than what they came to see. 
 
 Lady Rose had started that morning from home 
 in a flutter of high spirits, conscious that no one 
 among the mass of pleasure- seekers had so lovely 
 or so becoming a tiny structure called her bonnet. 
 It sat upon her sunny, rippling hair with the airi- 
 ness and beauty of a gossamer web, and she had 
 settled with herself that Lord Silborough should 
 acknowledge the fact. As for the races, fond as 
 she was of excitement, to-day the races were only 
 the means for her to accomplish a great end. 
 They did nothing of the sort.
 
 62 Three Wives. 
 
 Sick at heart, she felt inclined to rail at the 
 folly of the world caring for an amusement that 
 onlv lasted three minutes; and she knit her little 
 brows with angry contempt at the good-natured 
 Gaby entreating her to steady herself, by putting 
 a foot on his big shoulder, that she might be ex- 
 alted high enough to see the race well. 
 
 Of course, after the race came luncheon, and 
 the multitude fell upon patties, salads, chickens 
 and ham, while a fusillade of champagne bottles 
 drowned all other noise. That excitement over, 
 there was another race ; then an eager and vehe- 
 ment discussion on toilettes, with a dying com- 
 mentary on the farthing-candle dresses of the day 
 before. 
 
 " Gaby," whispered Rose to young Raby, " I 
 wish you would find out what makes them all so 
 merry in the Stradarven carriage." 
 
 " Why, of course, they ought to be merry — they 
 have got the bride and bridegroom-elect with them !" 
 
 u Whom do you mean I" 
 
 " Sil and Lady Elizabeth ; he proposed a week 
 ago, I believe — and, odd to say, the Stradarvens 
 are as much delighted as the Ellertons. Lady Eli- 
 zabeth looks rather shy about it — does she not ? — 
 but excessively handsome."
 
 Three Wives. 63 
 
 Lady Eose was very young, though very fast. 
 She took advantage of the long drive home, and a 
 cold evening wind, to envelope her pretty face and 
 gossamer bonnet in a trebly-folded gossamer shawl. 
 If she cried under cover of the folds, who may 
 blame her ? The more so, as she emerged from 
 beneath them a merry laughing Kose again. For- 
 tunate it was so, for her mother was waiting anxi- 
 ously for her, care and apprehension on her brow. 
 
 " Mamma, I know it," was Rose's remark on 
 seeing her mother's face. 
 
 " Thank goodness, my darling, that you do ! 
 And how well you are looking ! After all, Rosie, 
 it would have been an uncomfortable family to 
 enter. They are so proud and punctilious." 
 
 " So unlike the Rabys, mamma, who are good- 
 nature itself." 
 
 Then did Lady Alwyn understand that she 
 would probably have Gaby for her son-in-law. 
 And, after all, a very good match. The eldest son 
 of a wealthy and highly-respected county family, 
 with so much good blood in their veins, that would 
 Providence but be good enough to remove one or 
 two extremely worthy people to the realms of 
 happiness, Gaby had a chance of being Lord 
 Gaby. And everybody knows how very superior 
 
 4
 
 64 Three Wives. 
 
 is an ancient barony to a newly-created mar- 
 quisate. 
 
 Lady Alwyn, beaming with satisfaction and un- 
 expected reprieve, proceeded to tell her daughter all 
 she knew of the Silborough proposal and accept- 
 ance. But as, of course, rumour is quite incapa- 
 ble of tellino; the exact truth, it mav be as well to 
 mention how the important matter was really done. 
 
 The last time we left Lord Silborough it was 
 recorded that he was becoming duly and properly 
 in love. Long before the fortnight was over he 
 had given Lady Elizabeth many unmistakable 
 proofs, quietly, of his intentions. One of these 
 proofs would have been enough for Lady Eose. 
 The whole of them only caused the Lady Elizabeth 
 to begin to think, which had the effect of making 
 her more shy with Lord Silborough than any other 
 person. However, as w r e have said, he did not dis- 
 like it in her. On the contrary, it was one of her 
 attractions. 
 
 Having been sought by every stratagem known 
 to the marrying papas, mammas, and daughters 
 for the last six seasons, the withdrawing of Lady 
 Elizabeth's heart closer into its maidenly shell, the 
 dignified reticence of her grandmother, the stand- 
 ing aside of the whole Ellerton family, were each
 
 Three Wives. 65 
 
 and all wonderfully to his mind. He therefore 
 only waited a fitting opportunity to speak ; for 
 though a Loudon crowd is at times a very solitary 
 place, yet it was difficult to say in the centre of a 
 circle what he had to say. One evening at an 
 early ball, exactly as Gab} r had said a week be- 
 fore, he was so fortunate as to be in a cloak-room 
 with her alone. She was waiting for her chaperon. 
 As he fastened on her cloak, he quietly put his 
 arms round her, and said, 
 
 " Dear Elizabeth, will you be my wife — the mo- 
 ther of my little boy !" 
 
 It is hard to say if the gentle girl was prepared 
 or not. She raised her eyes to his with a wild 
 flash of astonishment. In a moment their brilli- 
 ance was lost in a rush of tears. Her face crim- 
 soned, her eyes drooped. 
 
 " They are coming — tell me, love," and he kissed 
 her brow. Still no reply. " I will call to-morrow 
 on Lady Ellerton — tell me by this," pressing her 
 hand. 
 
 The slightest flutter of the fingers answered him, 
 and she was gone. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 66 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Rest ? Thou must not seek for rest, 
 Until thy task be done ; 
 Thou must not lay thy burden down, 
 Till setting of the sun. 
 
 " Thou must not let thine heart get cold, 
 Nor hush each generous tone, 
 Nor veil the bright love in thine eyes — 
 Thou must not live alone. 7 ' 
 
 T. M. W. 
 
 VERY few girls, especially young ones, hear 
 the whispered words, " Will you be my 
 wife ?" without a rush of feeling that has no other 
 outlet but tears — even if there is a doubt of love. 
 Thus Lord Silborough, satisfied that Lady Eliza- 
 beth's beautiful emotion was the token of a love 
 he desired, and considered his right, went home 
 perfectly satisfied. 
 
 But she had been startled out of a quiescent 
 and tranquil state, into one at the brink of which 
 she stood with fearful and reluctant feet. 
 
 " Oh, why had he said those words ? Why had
 
 Three Wives, 67 
 
 he not left their intercourse as it was, becoming 
 so pleasant, and what she liked ? She had begun 
 to watch for him in the Row, and she was happy 
 listening to his kind remarks, and what he had to 
 say of his boy. She hoped he liked her ; but to 
 love her — to want to marry her! — the thought 
 scared and abashed her. She longed to be a little 
 child again, only old enough to play with his boy. 
 Yet she felt she was a woman, and that she 
 dreaded the peril and perplexity of having a lover 
 and a husband. If she did not please him — if the 
 ways her grandmother had taught her were not 
 his ways — if she looked as he did not like — spoke 
 words he cared not to hear, and disappointed him, 
 as she feared she must disappoint him, what grief 
 — what agony ! 
 
 For in the possession of a lover she realized for 
 a moment the childishness and simplicity of her 
 character. She understood that her grandmamma 
 and governess knew that she was good at heart, 
 and that it was only justice for them to love what 
 they had made themselves — but would he % She 
 did not perceive that in this humble opinion of 
 herself, in this anxiety to be worthy of his love, 
 the seeds of it were already sown in her heart. 
 
 Since her grandmother's illness it had been 
 
 f2
 
 G$ Three Wives. 
 
 Elizabeth's custom to go every night, on her re- 
 turn from the balls and parties, to ask the watcher 
 who slept in her grandmother's dressing-room, of 
 her grandmother's welfare before she herself went 
 to bed. 
 
 Old Lady Ellerton's illness was not serious, be- 
 yond the fact that at her advanced age it was ne- 
 cessary to be prudent. 
 
 This eventful night, traces of tears still staining 
 her cheeks, Lady Elizabeth entered the dressing- 
 room to make her accustomed whispered inquiry. 
 She was startled and perplexed by hearing her 
 grandmother call her from the inner room. 
 
 " Come in, Elizabeth. I am wonderfully bet- 
 ter, and think to be in the drawing-room to-mor- 
 row. I have been thinking of you too much to 
 sleep, and have a fancy to see how your dress suits 
 you." 
 
 There was no alternative but to obey her ; and 
 how was she to see her grandmother and not tell 
 her of the mingled emotions that were throbbing 
 in her heart ? There was no need to tell Lady 
 Ellerton. One look at the agitated beautiful face 
 was enough. " Elizabeth," she said. 
 
 Lady Elizabeth sunk on her knees by the bed- 
 side, and hid her tell-tale face in the bed-clothes.
 
 Three Wives, 69 
 
 "My child," murmured her grandmother in- 
 quiringly. « 
 
 Accustomed so implicitly to obey, Elizabeth 
 gave voice to a broken word or two. 
 
 " He is coming to you — to-morrow ; but oh !" 
 she continued, as if reprieved and glad, "it is a 
 mistake — perhaps I have mistaken." 
 
 " Perhaps so, darling ; go now to bed and sleep. 
 Think no more of this. To-morrow will settle it 
 all." 
 
 Grateful, and, it must be acknowledged, hope- 
 ful, Elizabeth received her grandmother's kisses, 
 still half-smothered in the bed-clothes, and steadily 
 averting her face, fled to her own room. 
 
 There youth and the unwonted excitement 
 exacted their dues, and, as if the least disposition 
 to meditate would effectually banish sleep for the 
 night, she hurried into bed with a rapidity that 
 astonished her maid, and fell asleep almost as her 
 head touched the pillow. 
 
 Not so her grandmother, who lay awake, just in 
 the least little bit in the world impatient at the 
 sensitive modesty that would not permit Lady 
 Elizabeth to name the name of her lover — nay, 
 almost to disown she had one. And to leave her 
 for so many hours wondering if the beautiful and
 
 70 Three Wives. 
 
 gentle creature had indeed been so fortunate as to 
 secure the best match of the season ? But the 
 excitement she was in did the old lady no harm. 
 On the contrary, she felt almost herself in the 
 morning ; and cheerfully discoursed with her old 
 maiden, who had been with her so long as to be 
 almost a friend, as to the benefit of a little anima- 
 tion. 
 
 " When we are old, Glifface, we are apt to get 
 sluggish and indolent, and any little cold flying 
 about takes hold of us and torments us. But let 
 excitement set one's blood flowing, and some sym- 
 pathy cause the heart to throb, as it does in youth, 
 and all this humour is worked off, and we feel al- 
 most young again." 
 
 " True, my lady ; but I do think as your lady- 
 ship haven't had much sleep to speak of." 
 
 " I did not seem to want it, Glifface. Give me 
 my grey satin dress and best cap." 
 
 " I hope, my lady, your ladyship ain't going to 
 fatigue yourself with seeing of company." 
 
 " Not many, at all events. Go and inquire if 
 Lady Elizabeth is down." 
 
 " No, my lady. Her ladyship is in the sweetest 
 of sleeps, so that Margaret haven't the heart to 
 wake her."
 
 Three Wives. 71 
 
 " She is right — let her sleep as long as she will." 
 So the old lady sat in her drawing-room waiting. 
 At eleven o'clock there was a stir in the house, 
 as of opening of doors, of coming footsteps. The 
 old lady folded her fair old hands together, and 
 had not framed the prayer she thought of sending 
 to heaven before the door opened, and the Earl of 
 Silborough was announced. He looked round for 
 a moment, as if seeking another form, but if dis- 
 appointed, he did not show it. He advanced 
 quickly to the old lady, and with a grace born of 
 gentle blood, and gentler nature, he took her hand 
 and kissed it. She motioned to him to take the 
 seat close to her, and was spared any embarrass- 
 ment as to what to do next by his beginning at 
 once on the subject that brought him there. Truly 
 he did it with an air and a grace that well became 
 him ; at the same time he had all the advantage of 
 knowing what he had to say was of the most gra- 
 tifying, delightful nature. Humbly as he spoke 
 of his aspiring to the honour and happiness of 
 being allied to her, of course he was fully alive to 
 the pleasing fact that he was the best match of the 
 season. True, it was a drawback that he was a 
 widower, and already provided with an heir. 
 Nevertheless, though this might weigh against his
 
 12 Three Wi 
 
 iv ee \\ iv es. 
 
 advantages in the eyes of some people — Lady 
 Alwyn, for instance— he was pretty nearly satis- 
 fied they were in his favour with the Ellertons. 
 Lady Ellerton might prefer for her inexperienced 
 grand-daughter one who already knew how to 
 treat a young and gentle wife ; while the wife he 
 intended to have had only opened so much of her 
 heart to him under the influence of an interest for 
 his child. Lady Ellerton gave him to understand, 
 after he had fully said all he had to say, that the 
 agitation of her Elizabeth the night before gave 
 her the happiness of assuring him that he was the 
 first person who had ever been able to do so. And, 
 being most deeply moved, as might be expected 
 from her shv nature, she had thought it best not to 
 let her be present at this interview, until she, her 
 grandmother, had told her the result of it. 
 
 " You are perfectly right, Lady Ellerton ; and 
 will you assure her from me that I will not con- 
 fess to the world how happy I hope I am, until she 
 gives me permission. I cannot tell you how much 
 I admire and like the beautiful modesty that 
 shrinks from all publicity in so delicate a matter. 
 It gives me the assurance which, to one in my po- 
 sition, is the greatest boon she can bestow, the 
 conviction I am chosen for myself, and not held
 
 Three Wives. 73 
 
 up as a prize she has won against all other compe- 
 titors. Think me not vain to say this — the acci- 
 dents of birth and wealth are for ever being mis- 
 called by the world in which we live." 
 
 " They may be accidents, Lord Silborough, but 
 I have tried to make Elizabeth see they are acci- 
 dents that have consequences — which reminds me 
 to tell you that she has one great fault, a diffidence 
 that is most inimical to the duties of her rank and 
 station." 
 
 " It shall be my duty to cure her of it, Lady 
 Ellerton. I will now go to your son, and lay be- 
 fore him the business part of my proposal ; after 
 which I will return here, just to receive a sweet 
 assurance from the lips of my Elizabeth ; and, 
 ordering my horses here, we will go together for 
 our usual ride. Nothing in my behaviour shall 
 lead the London world to see anything by which 
 her sensitive heart may be abashed. I leave with 
 you this paper, which contains what I intend to 
 say to Lord Ellerton. And I quit you for the 
 present as happy a man as it is possible to find." 
 
 His manner expressed e*ven more than his 
 words, and he left Lady Ellerton overflowing with 
 happiness and content at the future of her grand- 
 daughter. She was so pleased with the interview,
 
 74 Three Wives. 
 
 she recalled all he said again and again to her 
 mind, forgetting to look at the paper he had left 
 with her ; and she was still thinking when her 
 grand-daughter entered. 
 
 How is it to be explained, the timid reluctance 
 that shrinks from love at first, as if it was an 
 evil rather than a good % The morning had 
 found Lady Elizabeth with the echo of the words 
 still in her heart, " That she hoped it was a mis- 
 take." And in the first meeting with her grand- 
 mother the strength of this feeling moved her to 
 do what she had never done before — argue and 
 plead with her. 
 
 " I feel so young, so childish, grandmamma, I 
 shrink from taking upon me the sacred duties of 
 wife and mother." 
 
 " Too much humility is almost as bad, my 
 child, as overweening confidence. Do you think 
 I should congratulate you on the prospect of 
 marrying if I did not think you fit to fulfil the 
 duties of wife and mother?" 
 
 " You, perhaps, do not see, grandmamma, how 
 helpless I am without you." 
 
 " I may see it, Elizabeth ; and if I do, I deplore 
 it." 
 
 " Nay, grandmamma !"
 
 Three Wives. 75 
 
 " I do, child. I not only deplore it, but take 
 upon me the additional pang of feeling I have 
 brought the pain I suffer on myself." 
 
 " Do not think so, grandmamma. I am natu- 
 rally that which you deplore." 
 
 "And I should have uprooted it from a child. 
 But, tell me, Elizabeth, does no inward monitor 
 ever speak to your heart, and say a tranquil exist- 
 ence, a shrinking from responsibility, an apathy, 
 which puts on an appearance of virtue, but is 
 utterly antagonistic to virtue, is not the life we 
 are to lead here ? It is an unhealthy state, born 
 of indolence, and indifference to what is good and 
 noble. Virtue, to be virtue, should be ardent, en- 
 thusiastic, even exceeding duty, and anticipating 
 the urgency of its wants." 
 
 Elizabeth's fine nature readily interpreted her 
 grandmother's words, while her eyes expanded 
 with fear and apprehension as her reason and 
 sense of religion were arraying themselves in a 
 formidable phalanx against her wishes. 
 
 " Some ancient poet or writer has said, Eliza- 
 beth, that is but a narrow and contracted mind 
 which admires the calm when his vessel is at sea, 
 and the tempest when it is safe in port. Those 
 who shrink from joining in the world and its duties
 
 76 Three Wives. 
 
 by degrees fix their minds and affections only 
 upon themselves — a condition, I feel sure, abhor- 
 rent to the fine heart my Elizabeth really pos- 
 sesses." 
 
 " You are right, grandmamma. I should hate 
 myself if I was selfish and narrow-minded. But 
 in this fear that I am as yet too young to marry, 
 I think more of — of him than myself." 
 
 " I believe you, darling," turning her eyes 
 away from the sweet blushing face, which crim- 
 soned at the acknowledgment of a " him " in her 
 thoughts. " He does not think so, Elizabeth — on 
 the contrary, your artlessness is your great charm 
 in his eyes." 
 
 " But, grandmamma, he is so high in the 
 world's ranks, and I ought to be able to take my 
 place by his side, and — and I know nothing of the 
 world — I do not understand it." 
 
 "'Tis a foolish, sad world, I acknowledge, 
 Elizabeth ; the frivolity of it makes one anxious 
 for the future. Does no ambition move you, 
 Elizabeth, to try and make it better ? The very 
 height of the position offered you takes you half 
 way towards so grand a duty." 
 
 " No, grandmamma," murmured the girl, shud- 
 dering.
 
 Three Wives. 77 
 
 u What is nobler or greater than to see power 
 united to gentleness ? — what grander than the 
 life that lives for the future, and takes lessons 
 from the past ? — what more striking — more fasci- 
 nating than a largeness of soul that utterly for- 
 gets itself as it regards the meanest of God's 
 works ?" 
 
 " Ah ! grandmamma, if I could be so happy as 
 to think I could do good " 
 
 " Child, from what source do you expect hap- 
 piness 1 Can there be happiness without self-re- 
 spect r 
 
 " Surely 'tis not wrong to be chary of taking 
 the happiness of others into your keeping?" 
 
 " Elizabeth, there is no happiness to be got for 
 yourself but through the medium of others. La- 
 mentable and sad is the state of that person who 
 is in an empty condition of mind — who has no 
 duty to perform for others — who shrinks from re- 
 sponsibility. Many simple pleasures make up life, 
 but the pleasures of duty bring heaven to view." 
 
 "This I acknowledge, grandmamma; and if it is 
 your wish that I should marry, if you think me 
 capable of doing all you say, there is no one — I 
 mean I know no one — oh ! grandmamma, perhaps 
 for him and his little son I might strive to be the
 
 78 Three Wives. 
 
 creature you portray. With God's blessing I will 
 do my best." 
 
 " God's blessing rest on you, my darling ! I will 
 candidly confess to you that I have hoped and 
 prayed for this alliance for you, as one excellently 
 suited to you. It is seldom that one sees now, in 
 this giddy, hurrying world, that a calm and steady 
 pursuit of duty is followed. It is my impression 
 that, joined to your sweet ingenuous character, the 
 love and practice of virtue will keep you, like a 
 shining beacon, always before the world, as resist- 
 ing it, and not being driven by it. You will your- 
 self be astonished at the homage that is paid to 
 virtue, even by the most reckless votaries of plea- 
 sure ; and must ever bear in mind what an extra- 
 ordinary, though scarcely perceptible power there 
 is in example. I am glad to see your dear eyes 
 losing their scared look. In a few minutes you 
 must be prepared to meet your future husband as 
 becomes one whom he has crowned with the palm 
 of his love above all her fellows. Forget yourself, 
 love, in remembering him." 
 
 But the shy Elizabeth could not belie her nature, 
 and was ready to fly from the room at the idea of 
 seeing him. 
 
 " Elizabeth," cried her grandmother, as she al-
 
 Three Wives. 79 
 
 most succeeded in reaching the door, " come here 
 a moment, I have a message for you. He is 
 coming to ride with you as usual, so 'tis as well you 
 went to put on your habit. I am also to tell you 
 that you are to keep the secret of your engagement 
 to him as long as you please." 
 
 " Oh ! grandmamma, how good of him ! I own 
 I dread the eyes of the world ; but — ah ! there is 
 a ring of the bell. I fly to get ready." 
 
 She made her escape only just in time. Lord 
 Silborough again looked round for another than 
 old Lady Ellerton. 
 
 "She fled," said the old lady, smiling, "as you 
 entered, but with the excuse to put on her habit. 
 But I will so far assist you to have an interview 
 with her, that she will certainly go down to the 
 breakfast-room to feed her little birds. Pray take 
 a book, and go and sit there." 
 
 " Thank you, dear Lady Ellerton ; but tell me, 
 before I go, are you satisfed with the money ar- 
 rangements I left for you to look at?" 
 
 u To tell you the truth I have not yet read the 
 paper. I have been recalling to my mind all I 
 ever heard of you, my lord, which I should not 
 mention, but that every fresh recollection only 
 made me more happy for my darling's sake !"
 
 80 Three Wives. 
 
 " Thank you," he answered, much gratified. 
 "Then I will say no more, but that Lord Ellerton 
 will be here within half an hour, and he has ex- 
 pressed himself as more than pleased with all I 
 propose to do. I will now go to my watch. It is, 
 I assure you, most charming to me to be accepted 
 by you from no motives of grandeur or settlements, 
 and to be obliged to resort to stratagem to get an 
 interview with my shy Elizabeth." 
 
 When he was gone, Lady Ellerton glanced at 
 the paper he gave her, and was both astonished 
 and gratified by not only the liberality of the 
 settlements, but the power he gave into the hands 
 of his future wife, as sole guardian and trustee of 
 all his children — thus including the little step-son 
 in addition to any she might have of her own. 
 
 " He is very right to trust her," murmured the 
 old lady. " She scarcely knows herself the nobility 
 of her own soul." 
 
 Meantime the Lady Elizabeth, so far above little 
 weaknesses, had hurried on her riding-dress, and 
 running swiftly down to her birds, was in the very 
 middle of the breakfast-room before she knew who 
 was there. What passed between them only the 
 birds can tell, but at all events, as Lady Elizabeth 
 mounted her horse, and the difference in her fate
 
 Three Wives. 81 
 
 between doing so yesterday and doing it to-day 
 struck her, with the chill and fear of the morning, 
 she was forced to confess to herself that there was 
 somehow an exquisite perception of pleasure in 
 the very midst of her greatest fear and most dismal 
 forebodings. How it occurred that the acute, 
 vigilant hawk eyes of the London world did not 
 notice the unusual blush on Lady Elizabeth's cheek, 
 the additional shyness in her shy eyes, is not for 
 us to say. Perhaps it was due to the superb arti- 
 fice and indifference of Lord Silborough, whose 
 horror of publicity, we have seen, was as great as 
 that of the timid Elizabeth's. Perhaps it was 
 owing to the circumstance that Nigger had called 
 Fop a fool over-night, and that Fop had consulted 
 Tubs, who again consulted Croppy, who also con- 
 sulted Skyer, and so on, until all these worthies 
 were wholly absorbed in thinking what Fop had 
 better do to Nigger. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Oh! was there ever tale of human love 
 Which was not also tale of human tears ? . 
 
 Is there no story, 
 No legend — no love passage, which shall end 
 Even as the bow that God hath bent in heaven." 
 
 Arnold. 
 
 OF course, after the Derby, the world having no- 
 thing to think about, were delighted to dis- 
 cover that their high-mightinesses had been so 
 clever as to predict a match, which was now really 
 to take place. They were prepared to amuse them- 
 selves with watching the engaged lovers — specu- 
 lating as to their chance of quarrelling, deciding 
 who ought to be the bridesmaids — and all those little 
 arrangements which are essentially private, but 
 which the world think they have every right to 
 meddle in, — they were prepared for all this, when 
 suddenly the multitude was shaken to its very 
 centre by the abrupt announcement of Lady 
 Rose Alwyn's engagement to Captain Raby of the
 
 Three Wives, 83 
 
 Guards — otherwise Gaby, of Gaby-land. And 
 there they were, absolutely before the eyes of 
 everybody, exultantly and jubilantly in love ; de- 
 manding congratulations, displaying their fond- 
 ness, and throwing completely into the hum-drum 
 things of the past, the decorous and unobtrusive 
 love-making of the Earl of Silborough and his 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 If Lady Rose knew the world, poor little thing, 
 she deceived herself in her present manner of 
 braving it. The direful state of things between 
 Nigger and Fob was wholly forgotten in the ex- 
 citement occasioned by Lady Rose and Gaby. 
 
 66 Poor Gaby," said his friends, " how he laughs, 
 and how happy he looks ! — poor devil, it really is 
 too bad. He is so good-natured, is Gaby — one does 
 not like to see him sacrificed from pitjue. And 
 the worst of it is, he is such a fool, that if one 
 were to tell him, he would most likely try to 
 horsewhip one for doubting his Rosie. Who will 
 take a bet ? I'll bet odds Lady Rose is married 
 before Lady Elizabeth." 
 
 It was after this fashion that his friends talked 
 of Gaby, and discussed Lady Rose's reasons for 
 accepting him. And it is very much to be feared 
 there was truth at the bottom of it. 
 
 g2
 
 84 Three Wives. 
 
 Perhaps some of these rumours reached the 
 ears of the amiable, good father, Lord Alwyn — 
 for, in spite of all Lady Alwyn's endeavours to the 
 contrary, he insisted upon having a private inter- 
 view with his Rosie, and subjecting her little foolish 
 heart to a very severe investigation. Lady Alwyn 
 could only comfort herself with the remembrance 
 that Lady Rose had a spirit and a temper that 
 were both very well able to cope with a much more 
 sagacious though not a kinder heart than Lord 
 Alwyn's. Rose bore her father's probing with a 
 spirit and composure that would have elicited her 
 mother's w r armest commendations. But when his 
 voice faltered, when his eyes filled with tears, and 
 he spoke of his own happiness as dependent on that 
 of his children, then poor Rose, being still so 
 young, could only throw her arms round his neck, 
 and indulged herself with a good cry, which of 
 course, though it alarmed papa, had upon her a 
 soothing and beneficial effect. 
 
 " I will so far acknowledge to you, papa, that I 
 did like Lord Silborough a little — but now, you 
 know, it will not be right for me to do so ; and, 
 therefore, I think it a safe, wise plan to marry dear 
 kind, good Ga — I mean Algy. We all know him 
 so well, and he does so dote upon your little Rosie,
 
 Three Wives. 85 
 
 papa. Absolutely he says, if I had not married 
 him he would never have married anyone else ! — 
 so nice of him, dear fellow — and I am sure he 
 wouldn't. And his family are so dying for him to 
 be married. And they are all so fond of me, papa, 
 going to them is just like going home." 
 
 "All that is very nice, I allow, Rosie, and Mr. 
 Raby has been extremely liberal, not only in his 
 allowance for you both now, but for you, my child, 
 in the future. Nevertheless, Rosie, it has been told 
 me — I have heard it whispered, you are going to 
 marry Algernon Raby out of pique." 
 
 " People are so wicked, papa. I do believe the 
 people in London will say anything." 
 
 " They are very frivolous and foolish, I allow — 
 I see so few of the young men interesting them- 
 selves about politics, or the concerns of philan- 
 thropy r 
 
 "It's quite disgusting, papa; they are always 
 thinking of what they are going to eat and drink, 
 and who keeps the best cook, and who gives the 
 finest wine. They ought to leave all that to old 
 things like you, papa, who have not much else left 
 to amuse you." 
 
 "Pardon me, my dear, I have almost as much 
 pleasure w T atching you enjoying what I did, at
 
 86 Three Wives. 
 
 your age, as if I still was young, and could delight 
 in it." 
 
 " But you are such a good papa — there is no 
 one so kind and good, of that I am sure. So good- 
 bye, you darling old thing. Mamma and I are 
 immensely busy buying my trousseau. I am de- 
 termined it shall surpass — that is — I am determin- 
 ed there shall never have been a prettier or more 
 tasteful one." 
 
 If Lord Alwyn sighed as his giddy little daugh- 
 ter left him, it was not because he doubted her 
 happiness and contentment — it was rather that 
 she lacked something, and what it was he could 
 not bring himself to say. But he heartily prayed 
 God to bless her, and keep her safe from sorrow 
 and trouble. Outwardly she was about to make 
 quite as good a match as he could desire, and it 
 was perfectly true the Raby family welcomed her 
 most warmly. But she was giddy, and Captain 
 Raby foolish. Lord Alwyn got thus far in his 
 thoughts, and then considered it prudent, as he had 
 given his consent to the marriage, to pursue them 
 no further. 
 
 To be foolish and in love makes a man com- 
 mit the wildest extravagances. Gaby and his 
 lady-love, having none of the delicacy of reserve so
 
 Three Wives. 87 
 
 conspicuous in the other pair of lovers, took all 
 London into their confidence. And London did 
 not dislike them for it, though they laughed at 
 them. 
 
 One or two sacred friends, including Nigger and 
 Tubs, came to see the important ceremony of a 
 golden manacle riveted, with all due importance by 
 Harry Emanuel himself, to the pretty arm of Lady 
 Rose, binding her for ever as the property of Gaby. 
 Merely as a private nuisance always in the way, 
 Lady Rose might be forgiven if she summoned her 
 maidens to see the said manacle unriveted, as 
 being too inconvenient to be borne. But she wore 
 it heroically — boasted of it, and showed it to every- 
 one. 
 
 All her friends — all with whom she or Gaby 
 had no more than a bowing acquaintance, were 
 ostentatiously provided with cards to go and view 
 the trousseau. 
 
 The wedding-cake was exhibited, with names 
 and crests emblazoned, and all the little packets 
 for the bridesmaids, containing the thimble, the 
 sixpence, and the magic ring, were enveloped in 
 emblazoned covers. A magnificent array of lockets, 
 styled the Raby lockets, were to be seen at the 
 Jeweller's by all who cared to look at them.
 
 88 Three Wives. 
 
 Lady Eose had a mind to have every pretty girl 
 she knew as bridesmaid. Her father entreated her 
 to limit the number to twenty. In his day her 
 mother had but two. Surely the demands of 
 society were not so frightfully exorbitant as to 
 persist in so rapid an increase of bridesmaids? 
 What would his youngest daughter, now aged six, 
 require, when her turn came ? But Rose pleaded, 
 " I only expect to be married once, papa, for Gaby 
 is so fearfully strong and healthy, so let me do it 
 well." 
 
 " I wish you to do it well, my love ; what I fear 
 is, you are doing it ill." 
 
 Hose was no metaphysician ; she could not reason 
 on the matter. But in truth she desired to hide 
 all want of real love for poor Gaby in this display ; 
 and if she considered herself a sacrifice, there 
 should be nothing wanting to make it a splendid 
 spectacle. 
 
 The great Silborough match faded into nothing. 
 Nobody heard of the trousseau, nobody saw the 
 cake. Four bridesmaids were the utmost Lady 
 Elizabeth could muster, and they had been told by 
 her to choose their own costume. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of such a thing, mamma ? 
 I would no more let one of my ' maids ' interfere
 
 Three Wives. 89 
 
 about her dress, than she should dare to advise me 
 about mine. And I mean to see that they all fit 
 properly." 
 
 " Rosie, dear, do not tire yourself any more. I 
 am almost worn out myself, and wish sometimes 
 that you and Algernon would consent to be married 
 without so much fuss." 
 
 " Oh ! Mamma, how unkind of you ; when I am 
 doing my best to let our wedding be the thing of 
 the season — so hugely different from the Silborough 
 one." 
 
 " They say he desires it to be quiet, Rose, because 
 of his former marriage." 
 
 " I don't believe it, mamma. He likes display, 
 and he is fond of larking, in his heart ; 'tis that 
 stupid Elizabeth. Oh ! how I do wish I was some- 
 times in her place !" 
 
 " My dear !" cried her mother, aghast. 
 
 "I mean nothing wrong, mamma, but it does 
 make me angry to see her so quiescent and dull, 
 when she ought to be so very much the contrary. 
 I declare she is just as simple and ridiculous as 
 when I first spoke to her at the Duchess's concert." 
 
 " If she has nothing in her, Rose, she cannot 
 help herself." 
 
 u Gaby says she looks like Landseer's lions,
 
 90 Three Wives. 
 
 calmly gazing at nothing. Gaby really sometimes 
 is almost clever." 
 
 " He is what is much better, the essence of good- 
 humour. He has just taken your little brothers to 
 see the Stodare." 
 
 " Mamma, I hope you have got papa to consent 
 to mv having the 'Dentelle' veil instead of the 
 other. I know I have been a little extravagant, 
 but to be married in any other sort of veil is really 
 what I could not bring myself to do, considering 
 what a wedding we are going to have." 
 
 Lady Rose was so far correct in her opinion of 
 Lady Elizabeth, that all the preparations for her 
 marriage had the effect of numbing and paralys- 
 ing her faculties. In the depths of her heart, 
 doubtless, she loved the man she was about to 
 marry. And if he had been of noble nature, but 
 simple birth, if he had had her all to himself, apart 
 from the inquisitive and criticising world, and he 
 could have wooed her among green lanes, in the 
 shelter of shady woods, her shy heart might have 
 opened and expanded. But to be brought forward 
 as the fortunate winner of the great prize of the 
 season, to be always and ever subject to the ordeal 
 of being introduced to new relations, to be con- 
 sulted about her trousseau, to be troubled about her
 
 Three Wives. 91 
 
 wishes, to be the recipient of presents which lost 
 all value because of the thanks to be written and 
 given, — all these troubles and duties made the sen- 
 sitive and shy Elizabeth shrink deeper within her- 
 self. She had a wild wish to get away from it all, 
 which desire possessed her like a nightmare ; she 
 felt inextricably caught in the meshes of a net, in 
 which even her grandmother tried to entangle her, 
 and nothing now was left to her but to submit, and 
 she almost thought, die. 
 
 One can very well imagine that this strange 
 horror of any change, especially the one she was 
 about to undergo, would attack a heart that, like 
 a rosebud in the east wind, will not unfold its 
 leaves for want of sun. The sensitiveness that 
 now oppressed her was not unnatural in a nature 
 shy and reserved, but full of the noblest qualities, 
 the possession of which was unknown even to her- 
 self. 
 
 It would have been better, perhaps, had her 
 grandmother taken into consideration the slow 
 budding forth of the flowers of her heart, and 
 foregone the satisfaction of securing the best 
 match of the season, rather than let her marry 
 when she scarcely knew her own mind. The time 
 would have come when, awakened to music by the
 
 92 Three Wives. 
 
 carols of the lark, involuntarily moved by the 
 loveliness of the world, the hum of bees, the spirit 
 in the wind, the soul in the flowers, the perfume 
 of the forest, the many and various things of na- 
 ture that charm the eye and expand the heart, her 
 soul would have risen to the enthusiasm of admira- 
 tion, and, in doing so, would have burst forth into 
 praise, expanding not only to the love of the 
 Creator, but the humanity of the world. Then if 
 by her side there had wandered a lofty spirit, full 
 of that enthusiasm which leaves nothing between 
 him and God, it had not failed but the pure im- 
 pulses of her heart would have turned towards him, 
 as the flower to the sun, and as he beamed bene- 
 ficently on it, would have opened leaf by leaf to 
 thought and love. 
 
 But now, the rude brazen gaze of the world 
 chilled all love within her. Lord Silborough, 
 essentially a man of the world, had no higher aspi- 
 rations than to load her with presents, and gratify 
 himself by the display of his love for the pretty 
 gentle creature that trembled at his touch. There 
 was nothing about him of the nobility of love, 
 which sacrifices for love that which he would die 
 to gain. He did not command the gratitude of 
 Elizabeth, by sparing her any of the ordeals she
 
 Three Wives. 93 
 
 most dreaded. On the contrary, he added to her trou- 
 ble by calling her his " pretty child," his " shy girl," 
 and drew attention to that she most desired to hide. 
 In truth, looking at it in a mere worldly point of 
 view, the sparkling piquante Lady Rose would have 
 suited him better. She only wanted love to turn 
 her frivolous nature into a fine one. Had she 
 been Lady Silborough, her love and ambition 
 gratified together, she would have striven to be 
 worthy of both, and he would have found her the 
 most loving and adoring wife he could desire. 
 
 But marriages, though supposed to be made in 
 heaven, often turn out sad mistakes on earth. 
 Lord Silborough has selected Lad}^ Elizabeth to be 
 his wife because it pleased him to possess a wife 
 so unlike the rest of the world. In gratifying 
 this whim, he forgot to ask if she had a heart, and 
 whether she would give it to him. She is per- 
 suaded to marry him, spite of an intuition that 
 warns her not to do so. Lady Rose, disappointed 
 in marrying the man she could love, has rushed into 
 the extreme of marrying a man she cannot hate. 
 He marries her from single and true love, and is 
 so far the most honest of the four. It remains for 
 us now to see how Time and Fate treated them. 
 Whether the combined qualities of selfishness,
 
 94 Three Wives. 
 
 supineness, giddiness and folly gained the day, 
 against the merciful goodness of God, who is for 
 ever and ever " delivering us from evil."
 
 95 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Deep tingling pleasure musically hinged, 
 Dropping with starry sparks, goldingly honied, 
 And smelling sweet with the delights of life." 
 
 Beddoes. 
 
 npHE London season has again come round. 
 ■*■ Pleasure-seekers are more numerous — more 
 mad than ever. The world appeared to have gone 
 very fast last year — it is going twice as fast this 
 year. Society was frivolous and reckless in 185 — , 
 it is a thousand times more reckless and frivolous 
 in 186 — . Grave people ask themselves, " Where 
 will all this end f and before they can answer, 
 they are caught up in the whirl, and twisted and 
 turned, tossed and driven, until they have no 
 brains left to ask themselves anything. There are 
 a few people who make a firm resistance against 
 each mad humour of the town, but nobody cares 
 for their opinion, and as long as they don't stand 
 in the way, they may place themselves pharisai-
 
 96 Three Wives. 
 
 cally apart, and amuse themselves by looking on. 
 Amongst these might be seen the new Countess 
 of Silborough. Amid the former, the Lady Kose 
 Eaby. 
 
 When people had time to think of the beauti- 
 ful but silent Lady Silborough, they only gave 
 themselves a moment to say, " If she is handsomer 
 than ever, she is still more apathetic. Never was 
 such a dull creature !" But as for Lady Kose, 
 she became the fashion. Never was seen such a 
 coquettish, winning, sparkling little creature ; the 
 very sound of her voice was like sweet laughter. 
 She never moved without a crowd of admiring 
 worshippers ; she was at the head of every gaiety, 
 the mover of every amusement, the inventor of 
 " lots of fun " — the pivot on which turned every 
 conceivable change and variety. The Raby bonnet 
 was the rage, Raby mantles, dresses, colours, illu- 
 mined the shops. To obtain the Eaby secret of 
 doing the hair in that marvellous fashion, any 
 Countess was ready to give her coronet. At the 
 balls no one was worth looking at but Lady Rose 
 Raby ; wherever she went, she was the observed 
 of all observers — the cynosure of every eye. And 
 all this was to Lady Rose the very breath on 
 which she lived ; while Gaby was almost, if it
 
 Three Wives. 97 
 
 could be possible, more of a fool than ever with 
 pride and delight. 
 
 Lady Kose was too much a woman of the world, 
 though still almost a child, not to know that you 
 cannot gain and keep popularity by merely being 
 the best dressed and most lively companion in 
 London. She was aware of the weakness by 
 which men are seduced to be kept true to the idol 
 they have set up to worship, and there was not in 
 all London such a fascinating, minute establish- 
 ment as that of Captain and Lady Rose Raby. 
 
 " I am so sorry to ask you to such a nutshell," 
 would she say, with her sparkling smile ; " but it 
 does not do to offend Pere Raby. Pere Raby is 
 such a dear old miser. He said this house was 
 big enough for our poor little fortunes, and per- 
 haps it is, because we are quite sorts of paupers, 
 Algy and me \ but, then, you know, Pere Raby 
 does not often dine with us, so we can have what 
 we like." 
 
 And " what we like " was so far from being 
 good for paupers, that there was not a luxury to 
 be had in London for love or money that these 
 two little paupers did not contrive to have. The 
 fame of Lady Rose's little dinners, and Captain 
 Raby's magnificent " drinks " — for the world had 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 Three Wives. 
 
 been kind enough to adopt " Sairey Gamp's " 
 phraseology — spread far and wide. 
 
 " Do you know," said Lady Rose at one of 
 them, when she had dressed herself in clouds of 
 delicate green tulle, and looked what she intended, 
 a perfect rosebud — "do you know, dear, good 
 Fere Raby has heard of my little dinners ? He 
 has been so good as to ask himself to dine with us. 
 Of course we are delighted. I have sent for the 
 largest leg of mutton in London, and I think I 
 have heard it said rice pudding is either good with 
 it or after it — I am not sure which. But I must 
 find out, as, of course, I must take every pains to 
 please Pere Raby, and do the thing nicely, oughtn't 
 I?" 
 
 Everybody present (the Nutshell only accommo- 
 dated eight} desired to dine with Pere Raby, just 
 to see what the large leg of mutton was like, and 
 if the rice pudding resembled something of the 
 sort that they had seen before they went to school. 
 
 " No," answered Lady Rose, shaking her little 
 head gravely ; " I would oblige you — my whole 
 life is spent in being good-natured — but how can 
 I dine more than four ? — I must leave room for 
 the laro-e leg; of mutton." 
 
 That men found Lady Rose immense fun to
 
 Three Wives. 99 
 
 talk to, and had a still greater pleasure in dining 
 with one who knew how to cater so well for them, 
 was an established fact ; while the women adored 
 her, when she was good-natured, and gave them 
 some of her cast-off ideas as to dress and colour. 
 
 It must be confessed that the gentle Elizabeth 
 had not improved by matrimony, except that she 
 grew handsomer every day. A little tact had been 
 alone wanting, just to make her at ease with her 
 husband ; but that tact he omitted, either because 
 he did not know, or did not care to practise it. 
 He had never told her what name to call him, and 
 she had been too timid to ask. She had been 
 brought up to think it not feminine to call people 
 by their surnames ; but she only knew from the 
 " Peerage " that her husband's name was Henry 
 — dear and familiar to her, as having%een that of 
 her father. She would have liked to call him so, 
 and did so in her secret heart — nay, when she was 
 quietly happy, thinking of him, she went so far as 
 to style him Harry, as she had often heard her 
 grandmother speak of her Harry. In default of 
 any other name, for public use, she was in the 
 habit, with a pretty and graceful accent on the 
 possessive pronoun, of calling him " my lord." He 
 did not dislike it ; and though it appeared a little 
 
 h2
 
 100 Three Wives. 
 
 stiff and formal at first, it grew into liking by the 
 manner in which she said it. 
 
 The Buckhursts, still being part of the establish- 
 ment, as much by her own request as Lord Sil- 
 borough's, she was not called upon to act the part 
 of hostess more than she liked. Her grandmother 
 had warned her, if she was given the choice of 
 having the Buckhursts to live with them, which 
 she could not but know she would be given, not to 
 consent. 
 
 " But, grandmamma, if 6 my lord ' wishes it ?" 
 "He will not wish it, if you do not, Elizabeth." 
 " I think he will do so, for my sake." 
 " You must make him understand it will be 
 better for you to have no help in performing your 
 duties as hostess and mistress." 
 
 Lady SilDorough so far endeavoured to follow 
 her grandmother's advice, that she timidly asked 
 " my lord " if he thought she was capable of ful- 
 filling those most arduous duties without the aid of 
 her sister-in-law ? 
 
 " Well, my pretty little Lady Timidity, I think 
 not. We will have Audrey and Polly with us — 
 for a year, just to enable you to knock off all that 
 shyness; and I believe their finances will be all the 
 better for a year's recruiting. I know Audrey is
 
 Three Wives. 101 
 
 always hinting as to the expense of furnishing," 
 Elizabeth was only too glad that her inclinations 
 jumped with Lady Audrey's convenience. But 
 what between a sort of punctilio between the two 
 ladies — Lady Audrey leaving things to be settled, 
 as she thought, by Lady Silborough, and Lady 
 Silborough not liking or not caring to interfere at 
 all, the establishment was by no means going on 
 well. 
 
 There are now and then to be met with in the 
 world characters who, without being bad, do as 
 much mischief as if they were utterly abandoned. 
 They seem born with a disposition to discourage 
 anything that tends to good ; while they have a 
 mischievous propensity to further what is bad or 
 ill-natured. They are not without a code of 
 morality, and a show, if not a feeling of religion ; 
 but they are intensely selfish, and devoured by 
 envy. They are without the slightest spark of 
 generous emotion, and generally live in a state of 
 chronic ill-temper and grumbling. Lady Audrey 
 was one of these people, and had not the sense to 
 see that, looking to the future, her wisest course 
 was so to act as to make a permanent friend of 
 her new sister-in-law. But her temper would not 
 permit her to do so.
 
 102 Three Wives* 
 
 After living with Lady Sil borough for some 
 months, and discovering, as she said privately to 
 her husband, that she had nothing in her, and was 
 absolutely a fool, she became cross and ill-humour- 
 ed that she had been displaced for a pretty doll. 
 Her husband, as well as her reason, told her that 
 her brother would marry some one, and therefore 
 it was as well, for her sake, that he married a doll, 
 rather than a person like Lady Rose Raby, who 
 would have sent Lady Audrey into permanent 
 banishment had she dared to presume to dictate to 
 her. 
 
 " It may be so," she replied ; " but really to live 
 with such a piece of inanity — to hear her childish 
 remarks, and to watch her doing what she calls 
 her duty, irritates me beyond measure." 
 
 " The fact is, she ought never to have married." 
 
 " At least, not until she was sixty, or something 
 of that sort. And she is not without that obsti- 
 nacy which all fools possess. If she by chance 
 gets an idea into her head, there it will remain, 
 and nothing will drive it out." 
 
 u Have you ever had a fight ?" 
 
 "No ; I must do her the justice to say she has 
 a sweet temper, and is remarkably truthful — pain- 
 fully so. But this is one out of several instances
 
 Three Wives. 103 
 
 whereby I judge her to be obstinate. You know, 
 when she first married, how she got herself up in- 
 to a little sort of excitement about Nugent !" 
 
 " Yes, but it appears to have abated." 
 
 " Not so much as we think ; but the truth is, she 
 is so much of a child herself, that Nugent is the 
 cleverest of the two. She is afraid of him. When 
 he comes down to her every day, they stare at each 
 other, and then he begins to ask her questions, to 
 which she can give no reply. He is truly a strange, 
 weird little fellow, and 'tis just as well he does not 
 like his cousins, I am always afraid he will do them 
 some harm." 
 
 " Poor little sickly brat, I will back either of our 
 girls to take him up and throw him out of window." 
 
 " Of course they could do so ; but you generally 
 see children so odd-looking as he is are both spite- 
 ful and malicious." 
 
 " Well, do be careful, and don't quarrel about 
 him. We cannot afford to be turned out." 
 
 " I am quite aware of that, and endure the life 
 of a martyr to keep the peace, which you don't 
 seem to see." 
 
 "No, I do not see it. Your brother has mar- 
 ried a fool, whom you can manage with the slight- 
 est possible degree of wisdom. If you have the
 
 104 Three Wives, 
 
 sense I gave you credit for, Audrey, you would 
 make yourself so necessary to her that she could 
 not do without you." 
 
 " She irritates me so !" 
 
 " Oh ! if your temper is going to interfere, the 
 sooner I go and look for cheap lodgings the better!" 
 
 u For heaven's sake, Buckhurst, don't get into a 
 passion — you forget how nervous I am, and you 
 will not listen when I desire to give you some idea 
 of what 1 have to endure." 
 
 " Go on, then, with your story." 
 
 " As I said, she made a show of interest about 
 the boy, and now she is as shy and afraid of him 
 as she might be of you; but nevertheless she is un- 
 wearied in looking after his comforts, and his 
 doctor's orders, and all that sort of thing. One 
 day she came to me, red as a rose, and quite ex- 
 cited, saying — ' Oh ! Audrey, Margaret tells me 
 Mrs. Andrews is very unkind to Nugent.' Her 
 eyes filled with tears. * Pooh !' I answered. 
 < What can Margaret know about it V We had a 
 tremendous argument, she begging me to tell 
 ' my lord,' that Andrews might be dismissed. 
 ' He will never do that. Andrews was poor 
 Sophy's maid, to whom she bequeathed the care 
 of her boy.' c She is unkind to him,' persisted
 
 Three Wives. 105 
 
 Elizabeth. l It is out of all reason to suppose it. 
 She has a most excellent place, and would be a 
 fool to risk losing it.' ( She is unkind to him !' 
 And such was the whole burden of her song. And, 
 would you believe it, finding I would not interfere, 
 she told 4 my lord.' ' My lord ' sent for his son, 
 out of whom he could extract not one single word. 
 So of course Andrews remains." 
 
 Poor Elizabeth ! with the best intentions, she 
 had but aggravated the evil under which her poor 
 little step-son had long suffered. It was perfectly- 
 true that Andrews was a harsh and severe woman, 
 and was at times even cruel to the little child so 
 long left in her stern grasp. That he would not 
 tell of her to his father arose from her threats of 
 intimidation. He had had no warranty of his 
 father's love and power, but he had only too bitter 
 proof of his nurse's anger. Lady Audrey's assertion 
 that Elizabeth was shy with her step-son, extraor- 
 dinary as it may seem, was a fact. He was a 
 plain, uncouth little fellow, with nothing remarkable 
 about him but a pair of large, clear eyes. These 
 eyes, gazing at her through and through, with that 
 sort of boldness with which children try to read 
 a new face, abashed Elizabeth. She had pictured 
 him to herself as a fair baby-boy, to whom she
 
 106 Three Wives. 
 
 might sing and prattle. He did not care for music, 
 he said, but begged she would read him the debates. 
 He asked her a variety of questions as to her inte- 
 rest in the Reform-bill, her opinion of different 
 public men, to none of which could the simple, un- 
 tutored step-mother give what he considered a 
 reasonable answer. She had meant to give him 
 love, love in full measure. It appeared he did not 
 require love. He had never had it, and could live 
 without it. He had been accustomed to amuse 
 himself, and was happy after his fashion. A 
 strange little mortal, not more than eight years old, 
 but so small and sickly as to appear much younger. 
 It was a shock to Elizabeth, the severity of which 
 she hardly knew herself, to find this child, whose 
 love she had fondly hoped would bring her so much 
 happiness, was indifferent even to have what she 
 was anxious to bestow on him.
 
 107 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Aye, where's my money ? That's a puzzling querie. 
 It vanishes, yet neither in my purse 
 Nor in my pockets are there any holes. 'Tis very 
 Incomprehensible. " 
 
 Frank Gaudrey. 
 
 rFHUS the establishment of Silborough House 
 ■*■ was by no means on so comfortable a footing 
 as the little Eaby Nutshell. If Lord Silborough 
 fancied that he had made a mistake in marrying 
 Lady Elizabeth Ellerton, he showed no sign of it. 
 k On the contrary, he was very proud of her, and was 
 delighted to receive compliments, both on her 
 beauty and refinement. 
 
 " Sil does not in the least care whether she opens 
 her lips or not, Buckhurst," said his wife. u Ever 
 since he has heard from the highest authority that 
 Lady Silborough is the most beautiful specimen of 
 high breeding that has been seen for years, he will 
 not care how dull she is. Only to-day I was tell-
 
 108 Three Wives. 
 
 ing him of the eclat and wonderful success of Kose 
 Raby, and he answered, 
 
 "Pooh ! a ridiculous little goose ; she will have 
 her husband in jail, and herself in the Divorce 
 Court, in a year or two. I hate people trying to 
 push themselves up out of their proper position." 
 
 " I gather from that speech, Audrey, that Sil 
 does care for notoriety, and is perhaps a little sore 
 at the success of Lady Rose. But one, thing is 
 certain, he cannot have the two. Our piece of 
 solemn loveliness could never lend herself to the 
 display and larkisms of that wild Rose." 
 
 " She is again bothering herself and me about 
 Andrews, and has requested the old Duchess to 
 interfere." 
 
 " She must have something to amuse her. Why 
 not let her have her own way about Andrews?" 
 
 "Because all the trouble and bother of that dis-- 
 agreeable boy will be thrust on me, I feel sure — and 
 because I don't choose, when I put up with her stu- 
 pidity, that she should be obstinate about anything. 
 She ought to be satisfied with what I say to her." 
 
 " Audrey, pray do let me warn you not to give 
 way to temper ; you will get the worst of it, pitted 
 against one who does not seem to know what tem- 
 per is."
 
 Three Wives. 109 
 
 " It is useless your talking to me ; I hate her, and 
 I believe she knows it." 
 
 "Audrey, Audrey, be reasonable. I feel sure 
 you have already gone to great lengths, of which 
 you dare not tell me." 
 
 " And I had good reason to do so. Sil came to 
 me in a great passion about some domestic bother, 
 and I gently answered his rudeness, saying, 'It 
 must be some order of Lady Silborough's,' and he 
 as good as gave me the lie direct. And then he 
 sent for her, and she came with that childish face 
 of hers, all in a glow, to do something to please 
 him ; and then somehow it all came out that no 
 one had looked after anything, and there was com- 
 plete disorganization, the servants excusing them- 
 selves, saying first one lie and then another. Upon 
 which Sil upbraided me, saying if I undertook to 
 manage his house I ought to do it — and one word 
 after another went on, and the stupid creature 
 burst into tears. Also, in the excitement of the 
 moment, she flung her arms round Sil's neck. He 
 was so delighted with her show of feeling, or what- 
 ever it was, that he carried her off, and forgot me 
 altogether. In the evening she came to me and said, 
 " She knew I was so much occupied, that if I 
 pleased she would try and take her proper place.
 
 110 Three Wives, 
 
 She was not unaccustomed to ordering and ruling, 
 as her grandmamma made her do so at home ; only 
 she thought I liked it.' Of course I was not going 
 to submit to this, but told her plainly she was per- 
 fectly unfitted to do it. Upon which she replied, 
 with many blushes, £ My lord had told her she 
 must do it.' 'That is/ said I, 'you persuaded him 
 to try and turn me out.' " 
 
 " Audrey, Audrey ! what a frightful temper you 
 have got ! You will ruin us !" 
 
 " But only listen to her reply. In the calmest 
 manner she said, c No, Audrey, you will have 
 turned yourself out.' " 
 
 u Just as I think, Audrey." 
 
 "You would not have had me submit to a re- 
 proof from such a child as that. i No,' I replied, 
 1 1 shall go to Silborough myself.' Her face bright- 
 ened so much at the idea that I did not go. How- 
 ever, she is, with her usual obstinacy, doing what 
 she says he told her to do — taking the rule of every- 
 thing into her own hands.'" 
 
 " I consider that you owe this entirely to your- 
 self, Audrey." 
 
 " You are very unkind, Buckhurst ; but one 
 thing is very certain — I don't intend to let her 
 rule in peace."
 
 Three Wives. Ill 
 
 te I tell you candidly, if by your means we are 
 obliged to seek another home, I shall apply for 
 foreign service, and I think it will be pretty cer- 
 tain that I shall leave my wife and family at 
 home r 
 
 This threat sank deeply into the heart of Lady 
 Audrey, and compelled her to put some control on 
 her temper. 
 
 Meantime, the old Duchess of Stradarven had 
 her great-grandson up to town with Andrews. 
 She so far entered into the feelings of the young 
 step-mother, that she did not care to produce any 
 ill-will by interference, and as it was not the first 
 time he had paid her a visit, the invitation was 
 not unnatural. Nevertheless, Andrews was fully 
 aware she was suspected, and acted accordingly. 
 The poor little fellow was not one of those pretty, 
 demonstrative children that win all hearts by 
 their sweet artlessness and love. Apparently he 
 had no affections whatever, and occupied himself 
 principally about things that belonged more to 
 men than even school-boys. It was on account of 
 the precociousness of his intellect that he was or- 
 dered to have no governess or tutor. He was to 
 educate himself, so the doctor said, until his feeble 
 frame could better support his amount of brains.
 
 112 Three Wives. 
 
 His greatest ambition was to go to school. 
 
 " Are you not afraid other boys will laugh at 
 you for being so small V asked his grandmother. 
 
 " They may laugh," he replied, carelessly — 
 " some of these days I shall laugh at them." 
 
 " x\re you not pleased to have so pretty a mo- 
 ther V 
 
 He raised his large, searching eyes to his grand- 
 mother, who repeated her question before he would 
 reply, 
 
 " Was my own mother as pretty V 9 
 
 " No, there is rarely seen anyone so pretty as 
 your new mother." 
 
 He laughed, half elfishly. 
 
 " She kisses me as if she loved me. She comes 
 at night, when I am in bed. Oh ! I watch her !" 
 
 " Boy, what can you mean % n said his grand- 
 mother, horrified at his manner. 
 
 " I don't mean anything. I like her to kiss me 
 in the day-time, and I like to look at her, and I 
 think her very pretty indeed." And a sort of sad, 
 troubled look came into his little wan face. But 
 as for extracting anything out of him regarding 
 Andrews, he was as mute with his grandmother 
 as with his father. 
 
 Meantime, the season drew to an end. London
 
 Three Wives. 113 
 
 was beginning to tire of gaiety and frivolity. A 
 longing for country air, for new scenes, for some 
 other amusements than those afforded by hot, 
 dusty, noisy, crowded London, attacked everybody 
 like an epidemic, and it became the fashion to 
 hurry out of town with all speed. The monstrous 
 crowd scattered themselves in all directions. Some 
 went to the seaside, some to their country seats, 
 some abroad, and some travelling through the 
 mountains and valleys of their native countries. 
 The Nutshell was shut up in good time, and hav- 
 ing worthily earned popularity, the Rabys had 
 invitations sufficient to last for six months. 
 
 " Monstrous lucky, Rose, darling, for I haven't 
 a dump left." 
 
 " Oh ! Gaby, what have you done with all our 
 money I I shall want to set myself up in no end 
 of pretty autumn things." 
 
 " Done with the money, my pet ? — why, of 
 course, we couldn't keep house on nothing. By 
 Jove ! how the men do rave about your little din- 
 ners, Rosie !" 
 
 " Oh ! that's all very well ; but, you know, we 
 cannot get on without money. It's quite ridicu- 
 lous to go about poor. We are going to two sets 
 of races, and you will want to bet, and so shall I. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 Three Wives. 
 
 Do go and ask your father if he could not help us 
 a little." 
 
 " I wish you would ask him instead of me, Rose, 
 darling. He will swear at me, lecture me, and 
 then give me nothing. Now, even if he refuses 
 you, he will neither swear at nor lecture you." 
 
 " Well, Gaby, I will go to your father if you 
 will go to mine. Somehow, I can't stand dear 
 papa's eyes, and I know he has had a good deal to 
 pay this year for Wyn's commission." 
 
 " Of course, Rosie — I will do whatever you 
 wish ; but, somehow, it seems odd we should be in 
 debt, and not married a year." 
 
 " Pooh ! Gaby, what are you thinking of ? We 
 were very inexperienced, and did not know what 
 we were doing. Next year we shall know better. 
 Besides, if we get a pretty good sum out of each, 
 we can lay it by for next year, or speculate with 
 it. The} r say that's the greatest fun. I have al- 
 ways had a longing to go down to ' Change,' 
 and try my wits against all the knowing ones 
 there." 
 
 " And of course there would not be any one 
 there half so clever as my own darling." 
 
 " Begone, you goose ! You know, Gaby, I can- 
 not bear to be kissed when I am nicely dressed. I
 
 Three Wives. 115 
 
 am always obliged to go upstairs to put myself 
 tidy after one of your boisterous salutes." 
 
 Thus rebuked, Gaby departed on his errand ; 
 and of course, not being clever, Lord Alwyn soon 
 abstracted from him how their money had made it- 
 self wings and flown away. 
 
 "Five hundred pounds for wine! Algernon, 
 surely you must be mistaken 1" 
 
 "Four hundred and ninety-seven pounds is 
 very near the mark ; and I only paid it yesterday." 
 
 " And only for four months V 
 
 " Five, my lord — quite five ; a hundred pounds 
 a month. It seems a good deal, doesn't it ?" and 
 the innocent Gaby looked at his father-in-law with 
 as much sagaciousness as he could muster. 
 
 " It is monstrous — most monstrous !" 
 
 " We did not drink it all ourselves, you know. 
 Rosie is fond of little parties, and would have the 
 best wine." 
 
 Lord Alwyn had not to be told that Rosie was 
 somewhat wilful. But he considered it his duty 
 to do what Gaby abhorred — namely, administer a 
 severe lecture. 
 
 " No two young people ever started under better 
 auspices than you two ; and it is really a matter of 
 the deepest concern to me, that before the first year 
 
 i2
 
 110 Three Wives. 
 
 of your marriage is over, you should be distressed 
 for money." 
 
 " Oh !" interrupted Gaby, " don't think of me 
 — I will do without anything ; but poor little 
 Rosie, she is so fond of pretty things — just a hun- 
 dred pounds or so to set her up." 
 
 " Algernon," said his father-in-law sternly, 
 " don't let me regret having given my little, young 
 giddy girl to a man who does not know how to 
 manage her. I will give you a cheque for one 
 hundred pounds, on condition that you take care 
 it is only spent in the absolute expenses of the 
 various visits you are about to pay. You are not 
 in debt as yet ; and with no housekeeping expenses, 
 you can manage very well — but above everything, 
 keep Rose in order." 
 
 Much more had poor Gaby to listen to before 
 he got his cheque ; and he began mentally to think 
 he had better have gone to his father, as a lesser 
 evil of the two. 
 
 His darling Rose returned from her expedition 
 with exactly the same amount ; and being, as we 
 said before, clever and shrewd, she thought it best 
 to make a merit of necessity, and go about in what 
 she called a state of pauperism. Nevertheless, she 
 spent her hundred pounds in pretty things ; and
 
 Three Wives. 117 
 
 Gaby had to economise as best he could with the 
 other. But before she left town, Rosie had to 
 undergo an ordeal from her mother, who, having 
 sown "dragon's teeth," was perfectly amazed at 
 the crop they produced. 
 
 " Rose, my dear, sweet child, don't think I am 
 come from papa to upbraid you because of all 
 those terrible bills, and that horrid quantity of 
 wine. I want to warn you that it is said in very, 
 very high quarters that you are a very jolly little 
 thing, but that you are going too fast. Do, Rose, 
 be careful, now that you are going to other people's 
 houses. I can assure you that, much as London 
 is given to gossip and scandal, nothing equals a 
 country house for spreading a bad report. The 
 gentlemen are out all day fishing, shooting, or 
 hunting ; the women are left very much to them- 
 selves — consequently they quarrel. And it is in- 
 conceivable what falsehoods they tell of each other." 
 
 " I don't see, mamma, what is the object of all 
 this tirade. I am very well able to take care of 
 myself, as you know. Didn't I choose Gaby to 
 go with me to that party where every one else had 
 anybody but their husbands." 
 
 " Fie, fie ! Rose ; rather be ashamed you went 
 at all. It is for your sisters' sakes I do beg you
 
 118 Three Wives. 
 
 to be a little more quiet. Adelaide comes out 
 next year, and it will be greatly against her set- 
 tling well if you get a name for being fast — and 
 all that." 
 
 Rose was fond of her sisters, and though she 
 would not give her mother the satisfaction of 
 knowing it, because she resented her advice, still 
 she meant to be extremely good. And provided 
 she was always the best-dressed person in the 
 room, she would not care so much for being the 
 fastest. So the newspapers announced " Captain 
 and Lady Rose Raby leave town for the Marquis 
 
 of 's seat; Earl and Countess Silborough, 
 
 accompanied by the Hon. Lullington and Lady 
 Audrey Buckhurst, for Silborough Castle."
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " She is of the best blood, but betters it 
 With all the graces of an excellent spirit ; 
 Mild as the infant Rose, and innocent 
 As when Heaven lent her us. Her mind as well 
 As face is yet a Paradise untainted 
 With blemishes — or the spreading weeds of Vice." 
 
 Robert Baron. 
 
 QILBOROUGH CASTLE was a home that 
 U could not fail to rouse and delight the 
 most apathetic nature. Placed on a commanding 
 position, it looked down upon a broad valley of 
 silvan beauty that combined every attraction of 
 nature. A lovely winding river enlivened it ; rising 
 knolls of ground, rich with the bright hues of 
 pasturage and ripening corn, were surmounted by 
 hills clothed with woods 3 in which nestled pretty 
 rural homes, farmsteads, and every sign of popula- 
 tion and fertility. If Lord Silborough could with 
 pride say that all he looked upon was his own, with 
 still more pride he could congratulate himself that
 
 120 Three Wives. 
 
 he enhanced the beauty of his domain by sharing 
 it with others. The natural charms of the land- 
 scape were perfected by the variety, neatness, and 
 order of the little hamlets, with their churches em- 
 bosomed in yew-trees, with the mansions of well- 
 to-do people, the pretty villas, and the snug cottages. 
 
 In the magnificent grounds belonging to the 
 Castle many beautiful peeps, and rural pictures, 
 framed by the boles and spreading branches of oak 
 and beech -trees, presented themselves to the lovers 
 of what was lovely. And as the young Countess 
 meandered through one beautiful walk after 
 another, it seemed as if nature spoke to her heart, 
 filling it with a strange longing that her life might 
 be like the scene before her — beautiful and bene- 
 ficent. 
 
 " Am I to think myself unworthy of all this 
 beauty, this rare mixture of exquisite delights, be- 
 cause I am a weak, feeble mortal ?" She said this 
 to herself, but, alas ! the very springing, unfolding 
 of her heart to nature seemed to crush and para- 
 lyze it when she thought of those with whom she 
 lived. Of the Buckhursts it could only be said 
 that she strove to think of them as little as possible. 
 Her refined nature shrunk from one so strangely 
 moved by ill-temper and envy as was the nature of
 
 Three Wives. 121 
 
 Lady Audrey, and with Mr. Buckhurst she had 
 not an idea in common. She longed for the com- 
 pany of her grandmother, to whom she felt she 
 could talk of the feelings now moving her, but she 
 feared that her love and anxiety for her would 
 soon penetrate the annoyance she was undergoing 
 at the hands of Lady Audrey. Her heart was too 
 loyal to let anyone suspect the indignities this 
 stupid woman, blind to her own interests, put upon 
 her. 
 
 It was also in some measure for this reason that 
 she forbore to take a wife's privilege, and speak 
 with wifely love and confidence to her husband of 
 the many new thoughts that were unfolding, like 
 the leaves of a flower, in her mind. To see her 
 speak to Lord Silborough, to know that she was 
 beginning to turn to him for happiness, unthwarted 
 by painful shyness, were circumstances that galled 
 Lady Audrey beyond control. And because the 
 gentle creature bandied no words with her, silently 
 submitted to the most foolish, base accusations, 
 Lady Audrey fell into the common mistake of 
 thinking her still a fool ; whereas her infatuat- 
 ed temper was rousing Elizabeth to understand 
 and comprehend the nobility of forbearance. It 
 needed but one active virtue to enter into her
 
 122 Three Wives. 
 
 soul to open it for the admittance of all that was 
 offered to her reason and choice. Nevertheless 
 Lady Silborough was approaching the confines of 
 a dangerous temptation — it was the subtle and de- 
 ceiving pleasure of martyrdom. She began to 
 wonder if her patience and quietness would not 
 shame Lady Audrey into reason and good-humour. 
 Neither was she without some feeling of the same 
 kind towards her husband, and the numerous 
 guests that were coming and going during the 
 whole winter. She forgot that, unless she told him, 
 Lord Silborough could not perceive the inward 
 thoughts that began throbbing so quickly at her 
 heart. Besides, Lord Silborough at home and Lord 
 Silborough in London were very different people. 
 At home he was an autocrat. He was served 
 as a king — he nodded, and the world about him 
 obeyed. He was always employed governing his 
 kingdom, enjoying it, revelling in its riches and 
 pleasures. He felt royal, and little trifles had no 
 place in his thoughts. He went out, and gazed at 
 his large array of subjects. He organized a mass, 
 and had to think of the wants of many. Thus the 
 small company that formed his household were 
 but little in his thoughts ; they were his kingdom 
 when in London, where being an atom, perhaps a
 
 Three Wives. 123 
 
 little bigger than some others, but still only an 
 atom, he was glad to be interested and amused 
 in it. His business in London was to forget him- 
 self in the crowd ; his business at home was to 
 make himself visible and necessary to all. There- 
 fore Elizabeth saw but little of him, and was as 
 yet too inexperienced to account for this. 
 
 Their guests were, with very few exceptions, in- 
 different to trying to like their shy hostess ; the 
 more so, as the unscrupulous nature of Lady Au- 
 drey did not fail, by insinuations, by, it must be 
 feared, false statements, and all that array of fla- 
 grant sin that may be committed in breaking the 
 ninth commandment — to prejudice her visitors 
 against her. 
 
 Thus, with a growing disposition to break forth 
 from her shyness — with a desire to please and be 
 pleased — with a beginning of what may be called 
 the enthusiasm of goodness stirring her, bidding 
 her enjoy and participate in pleasant conversation, 
 in social duties, and amusing gatherings, Eliza- 
 beth found, as it were, the door barred against 
 her. 
 
 Having known and seen her only as a beautiful 
 automaton — swayed by the insidious whispers of 
 Lady Audrey — occupied by their own whims and
 
 124 Three Wices. 
 
 wishes, and steeped to the lips in luscious pleasure 
 and idleness — there was not one who cared to 
 stretch forth an indolent hand to help her over the 
 boundary that kept her from them. She was too 
 timid to beseech an entrance — too proud naturally 
 to force one. 
 
 And so it was in this manner that somehow the 
 idea entered her mind that she was a victim. Lord 
 Silborough was content that his house was beauti- 
 fully organised by the wife that was supposed to 
 be a fool. 
 
 " She is so extraordinarily obstinate," murmured 
 Lady Audrey, low, to a circle of lady guests, "that 
 because Sil happened to suggest that she had better 
 do something, she took the rule of everything quite 
 out of my hands. And she won't even act, much 
 less take the least advice from me. I may offer, 
 and work, and write, and slave, she will do every- 
 thing after her own fashion, just as if it seemed 
 she wanted to annoy me." 
 
 " Everything is remarkably well done ; my maid 
 says she has never been anywhere where the least 
 servant's comfort is so well considered." 
 
 " Well ! I can only say I am always thankful 
 to hear some good of her ; and it is so far only 
 what one might expect of a person who has not an
 
 Three Wives. 125 
 
 idea but what has been taught, and she has been 
 well taught." 
 
 " It is those kind of people, who are not distract- 
 ed by genius or talent, that do, what they engage 
 to do, so well," observed a lady, who was most cer- 
 tainly excusing herself. 
 
 " How proud Lord Silborough is of her beauty ! 
 How sorry he will be, if he has a son, that he is 
 not his heir, instead of that ugly little strange boy," 
 said another. 
 
 " Now that is another thing so odd of her ; she 
 does not seem to me to have the least pleasure in 
 the thought of having a child. She absolutely turns 
 pale whenever the subject is mentioned." 
 
 " She seems very timid and nervous." 
 
 u Don't laugh, my dear, when I tell you this : 
 but one day, when I thought it best to give her a 
 good scolding for her foolish fears, she answered, 
 ' The Bible teaches me to fear it. The symbols of 
 pangs, terror, and anguish -throughout it, are all 
 taken from that which I am to bear. I cannot 
 think of it lightly/ " 
 
 " How odd ! how strange ! as if no one had ever 
 endured it before." 
 
 Such were the exclamations of those who could 
 not understand the mixed feelings of apprehension
 
 126 Three Wiv 
 
 es. 
 
 and hope, with which the sensitive Elizabeth was 
 about to meet her woman's curse. 
 
 Taking everything into consideration, Lady Sil- 
 borough must be pardoned if she lived in a crowd, 
 yet stood alone — if she was the head of a sociable, 
 chattering, pleasure-seeking set of people, and still 
 had no part in the sociability, and endured more 
 pain than pleasure. The people filling the country 
 homes of England were only bits of the society of 
 London, cast down in sundry parts of the earth. 
 Thither they carried with them the follies, nonsense, 
 we fear, vices of London. To be sure, the healthy 
 country breeze, the manly enticing sports, the 
 various delights of nature, were not without their 
 influence in freeing the soul from the luxurious 
 baseness and superficiality of mind that both fetter 
 alike that which they called life. A sorry life — 
 dead in deed, in thought, in the present and the 
 future. Unhappy happiness, gone before it is 
 tasted — vanished before it is grasped ! 
 
 Lady Silborough, thus in a manner tabooed from 
 intercourse with those amongst whom she lived, 
 and yearning for some sympathy, took refuge in 
 books. She fancied from them she should learn 
 how to become like other people. Under the too 
 careful training of her grandmother and Miss
 
 Three Wives, 127 
 
 Oheverill, she had read but little of fiction. She 
 now delivered herself up to the charm of novels 
 and romances, thinking to learn in their pages how 
 to become a fashionable woman and an agreeable 
 companion. Without absolutely absorbing her 
 ideality in books, of which many revolted her good 
 taste, she yet found an infinite solace in them. 
 She could forget the caustic and ill-tempered 
 bickerings of Lady Audrey, in following the for- 
 tunes of a heroine whose fine character roused her 
 warmest sympathies and admiration. And she did 
 not remember her woman's curse, as she read of 
 the strange trials and painful vicissitudes of some no- 
 ble heart. She felt herself insignificant and foolish 
 in comparison. But to read novels from morning 
 till night deteriorates the character, and of luxuri- 
 ous idleness you may easily have more than is good 
 for you. 
 
 Elizabeth began to experience the throes of some 
 inward conscience as to the falsity of the luscious 
 peace into which she was now plunged. She felt 
 a moral decrepitude numbing her faculties, and 
 while she acknowledged the power of this secret 
 monitor, she had neither the desire nor the strength 
 to resist it. 
 
 And so the winter passed, and London was
 
 128 Three Wives. 
 
 again prepared to receive its legions of pleasure- 
 seekers. Fast and furious they hurried in from 
 all parts of the world, each asking the other u what 
 somebody was going to give," by way of amusement, 
 so that they might begin to reckon up at once the 
 amount of pleasure they were likely to have. 
 
 London, having turned its houses all inside out, 
 now restored them to a proper condition, and the 
 roar of the multitude began to make itself heard.
 
 129 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Her speech is nothing, 
 Yet the unshaped use of it doth move 
 The hearers to collection ; they aim at it, 
 And botch the words up to fit their own thoughts, 
 Which as her winks, and nocls, and gestures yield them 
 Indeed would make one think, there might be thought, 
 Though nothing sure, yet much, unhappily." 
 
 Shakespeaee. 
 
 " WHERE in the world is Lady Silborough ?" 
 ' ' asked Lady Rose, armed with a thousand 
 new prettinesses, whims, and conceits, to take the 
 London world by storm, and rule it, as she had 
 done the season before. 
 
 u Don't you know, she is obliged to stop at home 
 on account of a domestic event." 
 
 "Just likelier ; if she can do a foolish thing she 
 will. I took very good care to get that disagreeable 
 business over in November, just when nothing 
 particular was going on. I went to Alwyn, told 
 mamma, who was awfully surprised and so angry 
 I had not informed her before — and so nervous 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 Three Wives. 
 
 because my waist was still so small (as if I would 
 spoil my waist for the prettiest brat ever born), that 
 altogether 1 never had such fun in my life. But, 
 however, I told her the thing must be got over at 
 Alwyn, as I had no other place to go to, and we 
 were too poor to open the Nutshell ; besides, Gaby 
 would have bored me so there. Having nothing 
 to do, I felt sure he would be always hanging over 
 me, fearing this and apprehending that." 
 
 " And they took you in ?" 
 
 " Oh ! of course ; but it was rather inconvenient. 
 Papa had just made up a long quarrel with his 
 hot-headed Welsh cousins, the Wyns, and they 
 were at Alwyn on a visit, and of course they 
 had all to turn out, and that at very little notice, 
 for I had scarce left myself a moment, it was so 
 
 pleasant down at F Castle. And then there 
 
 was a nurse to get, and of course clothes. Mamma 
 thought I had forgotten all about them, but it was 
 a piece of diplomacy on my part, which succeeded 
 admirably. She ordered them, and of course paid 
 for them ; poor Gaby and I are such paupers." 
 
 "But where is your baby? — I should like to see it." 
 
 u You must go down to Alwyn, then, for I left 
 it there. I believe it's a boy, but upon my word I 
 sometimes forget, for Gaby bothered me so about
 
 Three Wives. 131 
 
 having a girl just like myself, that I made up my 
 mind it would be a girl, and I cannot get the idea 
 out of my head ; and I suppose I shan't, until I 
 see it in knickerbockers. They are all delighted 
 to have it at Alwyn, the old nurse especially, who 
 says she is never so pleased or so well as when she 
 has a baby on hand. And I am sure nothing 
 pleases me more than to please others, so we are 
 all pleased together." 
 
 Thus did Lady Rose rattle on. Lady Audrey 
 and the Hon. Buckhurst took sole possession of 
 Silborough House, and her peevish, discontented 
 face almost wore a smile on it at the delight of 
 doing so. Separated from the object that she 
 wickedly made her bSte noir, Mr. Buckhurst 
 found her somewhat more amenable to his advice. 
 He took infinite pains to show her what an excel- 
 lent opportunity this was for her to make herself 
 once more necessary to the comfort of her brother. 
 He quite agreed with her that Lady Silborough 
 was a fool, but he was much mistaken if she had 
 ever done so foolish a thing as to have a " domes- 
 tic event " at such an inconvenient time. Sil had 
 said that the moment she was all safe he should 
 come to town, and leave her to be nursed well 
 again by old Lady Ellerton and Miss Cheverill, 
 
 k2
 
 132 Three Wives. 
 
 both of whom had offered their services as nurses. 
 " Then, Audrey, you will have a fair course, and 
 may run in and win." 
 
 Thus pandering to her hatred, crediting her 
 with discretion, and flattering her into good-hu- 
 mour, he so far got possession of the rudder of 
 that unwieldy, mismanaged, overballasted thing 
 she called her heart, as to keep it in some degrees 
 of control. She entered into all his schemes with 
 exceeding relish and obedience ; she even went so 
 far as to court the society of one or two people 
 who, set on high as the fashion, ought to have 
 been trampled out of sight as the disgrace of Lon- 
 don. Hitherto Lady Audrey had looked on, 
 envying, perhaps, the imperturbable composure 
 and nonchalance of various respectable people 
 who tolerated the society of those they spoke of as 
 lower than the dirt beneath their feet, simply be- 
 cause they were " the fashion." It became an 
 understood thing a party was not the party with- 
 out them, and so these respectable people con- 
 cluded it was better to go with the tide rather 
 than have the awful slur attached to their names 
 of not being in the fashion. Lady Audrey had 
 piqued herself in former days as being so high 
 among the " Upper Ten Thousand," she could do
 
 Three Wives. 133 
 
 as she pleased. Now, having a little private hatred 
 to avenge, she stooped in the desire to conquer. 
 
 Without for one moment placing pretty, spark- 
 ling, fast Lady Rose in any questionable position, 
 still Lady Audrey had put the little thing down 
 in her visiting list as too fast for her. Now it 
 was different. She courted Lady Rose with every 
 conceivable art, and, alas for Lady Rose, without 
 caring one jot for the unlovely, uninteresting, sour 
 woman, she yet received her advances with bewil- 
 dering pleasure and joy. Did nothing whisper to 
 her of danger f It mattered not what whispered 
 to the conscience of either ; they became such 
 bosom friends, that if Lady Rose was not in Silbo- 
 rough House, Lady Audrey was at the Nutshell, 
 and vice versa. 
 
 And so London began its old ways, resolute 
 only in this — to be more fast, more reckless, more 
 mad than ever. Few had time to pause and see 
 that they were undergoing the same temptation 
 as Adam. Fruit was offered to their sight which 
 they knew it was ruin to touch, death to taste — a 
 moral death, the close of which angels weep to 
 see. All dashed recklessly at it, many touched, 
 few refused to taste, until but one motive ruled 
 the world, and that was to be in the fashion.
 
 134 Three Wives. 
 
 When Lord Silborough arrived in town, in the 
 happiest spirits at the well-doing of his Countess, 
 and the birth of a daughter, he found London in 
 the full humour to employ those spirits. The 
 Buckhursts had begged him to consider themselves 
 as caterers for his amusement, as naturally he 
 would be running out of town once a week, to see 
 after his pretty Elizabeth, and so would not feel 
 altogether as settled as if he was in town. 
 
 Under the able generalship of Mr. Buckhurst, 
 and the valuable assistance of Lady Rose Raby, 
 Lord Silborough took part in several of the most 
 lively and jolly entertainments of the year. They 
 were not exactly parties to which he would have 
 taken his countess, but being in town en gargon, 
 naturally there was no harm in his accepting them, 
 and enjoying himself ; especially as he rather 
 plumed himself upon the affection and duty that 
 had kept him so long in the country. His timid 
 and gentle Elizabeth was so dependent on him to 
 keep up her spirits. 
 
 It is not altogether fair for well-regulated minds 
 and sober dispositions to pass judgment upon the 
 spoilt temper and flighty thoughts of little butterfly 
 things such as Lady Rose. 'Tis true, in point of 
 worldly wisdom, we have seen she was very acute.
 
 Three Wives. 135 
 
 But where a person's own feelings are concerned, 
 especially when the enthusiasm of youth overthrows 
 even the commands of prudence, it is not fair to 
 judge of their temptations by those of others. 
 
 Lady Rose had reached that stage of her exist- 
 ence at which she felt almost forlorn for want of 
 something to excite her. Poor Gaby, the most ami- 
 able and sweet-tempered of mortals, absolutely had 
 the same effect upon her as an overdose of sugar- 
 plums has upon children. She was almost sick 
 of his amiability and imperturbable good-temper. 
 Once he did enliven her a little, by positively re- 
 fusing her advice to borrow money of the Jews. 
 
 " No ; I promised my father I never would go 
 to the Jews." 
 
 " Why go to a Jew ? Christians lend as well 
 as Jews I" 
 
 " But my promise was, not to borrow money." 
 
 " Then I will do so, instead of you." 
 
 " No, no, Rosie, my darling ! The fact is, we 
 must not give parties this year, as we did last year. 
 After all, nobody thanks one for it." 
 
 " Moralizing, Gaby — moralizing ! What fun it 
 will be to tell everybody !" 
 
 " Make as much fun of me as you like, darling, 
 so long as you are amused and happy."
 
 136 Three Wives, 
 
 " But how can I be amused and happy, if I 
 cannot be first in everything, as I was last year ?" 
 
 " You are the best dressed woman in London, 
 and the merriest ; be content with that, Rose." 
 
 " And you positively won't borrow any money ?" 
 
 " I must keep my promise." 
 
 " Then I won't speak to you for a fortnight ; 
 and I will tell everybody the reason." 
 
 Not speaking to Gaby for a fortnight gave Lady 
 Rose a little mawkish amusement for a short time. 
 It was such fun to have to ask other people to tell 
 him what she wanted him to do. But when that 
 was over, she again felt low, and moped. The 
 friendship of Lady Audrey was therefore snatched 
 at as a godsend. Her poor little thoughts might 
 be analysed somewhat after this fashion : 
 
 "Though I think no one now, of course, so 
 good as my Gaby, and at times I can't help being 
 very fond of him, }^et I should like to know 
 whether I have got any of that odd feeling left 
 that I used to have for Lord Silborough. I de- 
 clare I used to know quite well when he came into 
 the room, even if I did not see him. Which is, I 
 suppose, electro-biology, or something to do with 
 spirits, which only happens between sympathetic 
 natures. And then my heart beat, as it never
 
 Three Wives. 137 
 
 beats dow, unless I am in a passion. I should like 
 just to see if he cares for anything I say. What 
 a triumph for me, if I can get him into the least 
 bit of a flirtation, after having, as it were, rejected 
 me for that stately doll. Lots of people have told 
 me I am very much the prettiest. Heigho ! I half 
 wish I was in the school-room again. Somehow 
 things are not altogether as nice as I expected 
 when I was so dying to come out. Lady Audrey 
 would like me just to laugh and amuse Lord Sil- 
 borough, because she says he is so moped at home, 
 and is becoming quite stupid in consequence. ' He 
 married quite the wrong person,' she said. I won- 
 der what she meant by that? Poor dear papa 
 does not like me going on as I do — and, oh, law ! 
 if he was to see me when I do go on. Well, I 
 must not vex him, he is so kind. Only this morn- 
 ing he came to see me ; and hearing, he said, that 
 I was to be Hebe in the Tableaux, he thought I 
 might like to look nice — and if the darling did not 
 give me a cheque for one hundred pounds ! Dear, 
 dear papa, I hope I shall never vex you ! I hope 
 I shall always be thinking of you, and when I am 
 feeling, just a little, as if I hated Gaby and all 
 the world — I wonder how people feel who are 
 really good, and do stupid, good, proper things—
 
 138 Three Wives. 
 
 go to church, become sisters of something, and all 
 that. Fancy me a sister of something ! I see 
 myself clothed in calico and gingham. I will tell 
 Campbell to find out what the dress is ; she shall 
 make me one, and I will just put it on some even- 
 ing to startle them." 
 
 Such were a few of the thoughts of this way- 
 ward little heart. Campbell made her so becoming 
 a sister's dress, that, confiding in Lady Audrey, she 
 took it with her to Silborough House, where she 
 was going to dine. At dinner, like a fairy in gos- 
 samer robes of pink and silver, she was inimitably 
 pretty and bewitching, so that no admirer of beauty, 
 like Lord Silborough, could fail to gaze at her with 
 pleasure. 
 
 But when, after dinner, the gentlemen came into 
 the drawing-room, they were still more struck by 
 the extreme loveliness of a demure little quakerish 
 thing, that sat like a piece of rare old china on a 
 a low seat, from behind which rose a pyramid of 
 ferns and green leaves. Lady Audrey introduced 
 her as Miss Smith, a sister of some charity, who 
 had called to ask for contributions to her sisterhood. 
 
 " 1 detained her," continued Lady Audrey, sig- 
 nificantly, " because I thought, Sil, you would give 
 her more if she asked you herself."
 
 Three Wives. 139 
 
 Lord Silborough so far agreed with his sister, 
 that he would have given her nothing without 
 seeing her, and was ready to give her anything now 
 he had seen her. The modest eyes of the little 
 sister were never raised while she gravely and 
 piously set forth her wants and wishes. A collec- 
 tion was made immediately, each man striving to 
 outdo the other. Her thanks were simple and 
 earnest, and she put all her riches slowly and care- 
 fully away in the pocket of her little stuff dress. 
 Which business being completed, she suddenly 
 raised her eyes, and flashed out into the well-known 
 laugh and merriment of Lady Rose. 
 
 "I shall keep all my contributions," said she, 
 after they were all tired of wondering, laughing, 
 and complimenting ; " and I shall spend them in 
 buying myself something immensely pretty, just to 
 put me in mind of having hoaxed you all so well. 
 I never had such fun in my life." 
 
 " Rosie," said Gaby, when they were back at 
 their Nutshell, worn out with excitement, and the 
 luxury of laughing, " what do you think Sil said of 
 you in that absurd little dress V 
 
 " Something very unkind, I suppose." 
 
 " By no means. He said you did not know how 
 infinitely more it became you to be dressed simply,
 
 140 Three Wives. 
 
 with your face in repose. His wife, he added, was 
 infinitely improved by animation and dress, but by 
 no means to the extent that you were by becoming 
 a demure little sister. 'I can fancy,' he continued, 
 ' a man sacrificing everything for such a creature — 
 absolutely happy to die to do her service.' There, 
 my own darling, there was a compliment from the 
 best judge of beauty in London ! Why, Rose, my 
 sweetest, loveliest Rose, crying ?" 
 
 " I am so tired, you great booby ! One can't 
 go on for ever entertaining the whole of London 
 without getting knocked up. Don't speak to me 
 again, sir, and let me go to sleep." 
 
 And poor dear good Gaby did as he was bid.
 
 141 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 4 ' That we would do, 
 We should do when we would ; for this world changes, 
 And hath abatements and delays as many 
 As there are tongues — are hands — are accidents." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 " 1\TY clearest, it is about time that you should 
 
 -"-*- consider yourself well. Your husband has 
 been very good, wanting you, as I am sure he 
 must, in London." 
 
 "I fell quite well, grandmamma; the only thing 
 I do not like is losing your company." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you acknowledge that this is 
 your only objection to again taking your place in 
 society." 
 
 " A sick-bed, dear grandmamma, brings diseases 
 of the heart ver}^ plainly to view. I am almost 
 ashamed to confess to you how much I felt unlike, 
 before my baby was born, the Elizabeth you loved 
 and praised eighteen months ago."
 
 142 Three Wives. 
 
 " No woman ought lightly to meet such a time, 
 Elizabeth. It is certain there is nothing between 
 her and death but the mercy of God." 
 
 u I was very apprehensive, but I fear more be- 
 cause of the mortal pangs I had perhaps to undergo. 
 But when I felt the faintness of exhaustion stealing 
 over my senses, and that light was fading from rny 
 eyes, and strength from my limbs, there rose vividly 
 before my mental vision a sort of figure of death, 
 and I was horror-stricken at the thought of having 
 feared bodily pain, and never considered the awf ill- 
 ness of death. I experienced grief so sharp in my 
 mind, that the pain was nothing to it — grief that I 
 had spent, as it now appeared to me, the last few 
 precious months of my life in reading novels, and 
 in doing everything I possibly could to drive all 
 thought away." 
 
 " It is wonderful the rapidity of thought, Eliza- 
 beth, and the sort of way in which it sorts and 
 arranges itself, to suit the moment of time allotted 
 for its power." 
 
 " It certainly could be but a moment of time 
 that these thoughts occurred — at least, just at 
 the period of going off into a swoon ; and yet what 
 I have told you, grandmamma, was absolutely but 
 a particle of all that passed through my mind. My
 
 Three Wives. 143 
 
 childish life, my still more childish youth, my mar- 
 riage, the dislike to it, and all your kind advice to 
 me. The sort of weak way in which I took refuge 
 from all I disliked, behind my shyness ; and what 
 was almost wicked, my dearest grandmamma, I 
 had lately been thinking I so little understood peo- 
 ple, or they me, that perhaps it was almost better 
 if I did die." 
 
 " Ah ! my child, there is not a greater mistake 
 in the world than to get into the habit of thinking 
 yourself a victim. I am sure your case was not a 
 bad one, otherwise I can soon prove to you, if you 
 still consider yourself a victim, you have yourself 
 placed yourself in the position." 
 
 " Doubtless, grandmamma, for on the mere sight 
 of this figure of death — on the sort of shudder that 
 ran through me, as it approached nearer, and I 
 feared it would touch me such a flood of remorse 
 filled my heart, that the short time I was in the 
 world I had done so little, cared for so little, and 
 had so conducted myself, that, like a leaf off a tree, 
 I should be swept away, out of men's minds and 
 memory, as a thing as valueless." 
 
 " It is when death approaches, Elizabeth, that 
 we are often reminded how much we ill-use the 
 
 gift of life r
 
 144 Three Wives. 
 
 " Which I have done, hitherto. Your love, so 
 ill requited, so little done for my husband — beyond 
 being an obedient, simple companion — my poor little 
 Nugent, whom the more I think of, the more do I 
 know I ought to have taken under my entire charge 
 long ago." 
 
 " You are right, my dear Elizabeth. There has 
 been some treacherous, not to say wicked influence 
 exercised over the poor little fellow. His strange 
 behaviour on hearing your little baby was a girl, 
 and the love he seems to feel for it ; the shudder 
 that came over him when Margaret asked him if 
 he would not have preferred a brother to play with 
 — my dear Elizabeth, at all hazards, your first 
 duty must now be to learn, by all means that you 
 can, what sort of a woman Andrews really is." 
 
 " I will do so ; the more so as, even if I could 
 bring myself to question him, I feel sure he would 
 give no reply. His extraordinary, most obstinate 
 silence, on a former occasion, absolutely was a sort 
 of intuition to me that all was not right. And 
 yet, grandmamma, I was so blameworthy as to do 
 nothing." 
 
 " He is too sickly in appearance to be well-man- 
 aged by her, though it is against her interest to let 
 him absolutely die !"
 
 Three Wives, 145 
 
 u Oh ! grandmmma, die ! — you horrify me. 
 What can make you fear this V ? 
 
 " The idea only came into my head yesterday, 
 Elizabeth. If you remember, when he was with us 
 yesterday morning, he had a very dull, stupid look. 
 His eyes, usually so brilliant and keen, were glaz- 
 ed. He sat down for some time as if recalling 
 his senses, and, if you remember, he fell off the 
 stool fast asleep. You picked him up, laid him on 
 the sofa, kissing him ; as you did so, you said, 
 1 What a strange smell ! ' When you left the room 
 I went near him, and the odour that came from 
 between his almost clenched lips was like that of 
 laudanum." 
 
 " Oh ! grandmamma, poison ! It is impossible — 
 why should she do so ?" 
 
 " To keep him quiet during the night." 
 
 " He shall sleep in my room ; he shall not leave 
 me again for a moment." 
 
 " But if you notice, he will never be a moment 
 alone with you." 
 
 " It is true he seems then to have a horror of 
 me. Oh ! my little Nugent, you do not know 
 how, when I thought myself dying, your little face 
 and childish voice, mixed with the cries of your 
 poor little sister, kept ever and ever recurring to 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 Three Wives. 
 
 me, until there awoke in me such a strong impulse 
 to live for your sake, that it seemed as if it re- 
 stored me to consciousness and life*" 
 
 "You must do nothing rashly, Elizabeth. Con- 
 sult Margaret, and find out the habits of the woman." 
 
 " But we must not let a day, an hour pass. I 
 am horrified to think that he is even now with her." 
 
 " I am going out now for my drive, and will 
 send for him to go with me. During his absence, 
 go to her, tell her your suspicions of the laudanum ; 
 say I have gone to the town of Silboroughto make 
 inquiries of the chemist if she has bought any 
 drug of him. Her face will prove her guilt. I 
 need not remind you of your constitutional shyness " 
 
 " Oh ! grandmamma, could I think of any feel- 
 ing but that of righteous indignation 1" 
 
 " I hope not ; but if you show fear, the poor 
 child will suffer." 
 
 Little Lord Nugent went off with Lady Eller- 
 ton in the carriage. She endeavoured to extract 
 something from him regarding Andrews, but the 
 moment the woman's name was mentioned he 
 seemed to close his lips, with a determination that 
 took the little colour he had out of his sickly face. 
 Of other things he prattled pretty freely, and in 
 his quaint fashion astonished Lady Ellerton, as he
 
 Three Wives. 147 
 
 had often done before, by the shrewdness and 
 oddity of his remarks. Amongst other things he 
 said, 
 
 " I suppose mamma has had enough of being 
 sick — she wont't have another baby in a hurry." 
 
 " I daresay it will be a long time." 
 
 " A month $" asked the child, quickly* 
 
 " Oh ! no, a year or two, perhaps." 
 
 " Hah !" he exclaimed, with a relieved sigh, " I 
 shall be old enough to run away then and hide 
 myself." 
 
 " Why do so, when she loves you so much f" 
 
 He looked up with his serious, searching eyes 
 Into her face, but made no reply. 
 
 " Nugent," said Lady Ellerton, " I am convinced 
 that you are quite sufficiently sensible to under- 
 stand what I am going to tell you ; and it is this : 
 your nurse Andrews has told you that your new 
 mamma wishes her son to be Lord Nugent, and 
 not you. Therefore, if your new mamma has a 
 son, you fear she will harm you." 
 
 The child coloured deeply, set his little lips 
 firmty together, and said nothing. 
 
 "Now, Andrews is a very wicked woman. I 
 know your mamma so well, that if she had ten 
 sons, she would never love one more than she does 
 
 l2
 
 148 Three Wives. 
 
 you ; and I think it extremely probable that An- 
 drews beats you, and otherwise ill-treats you, for 
 fear you should tell of her." 
 
 The boy's eyes flushed up with a sudden bright 
 ray of hope and happiness, his lips parted, he 
 seemed about to speak, when a sudden recollection 
 sent a shudder through him, and, white and silent, 
 he shrank back in the carriage. 
 
 " Would you be pleased if I was to tell you you 
 should never see Andrews more ?" 
 
 " That you can't prevent — she says she can get 
 at me through key-holes." 
 
 " But not if your father sent her altogether 
 away, and forbid her being your nurse." 
 
 " But that he cannot do, for my own mamma 
 will come out of the grave and bring Andrews 
 back." 
 
 " I thought you were too sensible to believe such 
 rubbish." 
 
 His poor little face brightened. 
 
 " I want to be clever — I want to show everyone 
 I am clever — I do not want to be put out of the 
 world." 
 
 " Your new mamma says you are so clever — 
 you know much more than she does. You have 
 heard her say so."
 
 Three Wives, 149 
 
 He laughed his little strange, rather elfish 
 laugh. 
 
 "Now, tell me, does not Andrews give you 
 strange physic ?" 
 
 The very mention of the woman's name closed 
 his lips. She sat silent for some time, her thoughts 
 wholly occupied in thinking of the child ; and as 
 every thought made her more and more convinced 
 some horrible cruelty had been practised, the tears 
 involuntarily rose to her eyes, and fell uncon- 
 sciously down her cheeks. The boy drew out his 
 handkerchief, and wiped them away, saying an- 
 xiously, " Why do you cry V 
 
 " I grieve, my poor little boy, because I think 
 you have suffered much." 
 
 He looked at her anxiously, and then said, 
 
 u Do you think you can carry me away and hide 
 me!" 
 
 " I will do anything you ask of me." 
 
 They had now arrived at Silborough, and giving 
 him some money, after she had been put down at 
 the druggist's shop, she directed the servants to 
 take him to a bookseller's, that he might spend it 
 there. 
 
 From the druggist she learnt that he was in the 
 habit of providing one of the servants with syrup
 
 150 Three Wives. 
 
 of poppies, and a mild form of soothing pills, in 
 which there was a slight narcotic. 
 
 " Could harm occur in taking an overdose ?" 
 
 " No," replied the man ; "I make the pills pur- 
 posely large, with harmless ingredients, in order to 
 avoid the chance of their taking more than two at 
 the outside — whereas four or six would endanger 
 no person's life." 
 
 "And for a child?" 
 
 " I should not give this preparation to a child, 
 though one, or, at most, two pills would not do any 
 harm " 
 
 " You cannot tell the name of the servant ?" 
 
 " This is the last order I received, if the hand- 
 writing will assist you." 
 
 " It will only assist me if you permit me to keep 
 it." 
 
 "By all means, madam." 
 
 Lady Ellerton fulfilled her commission sooner 
 than Nugent did his. It seemed there was a good 
 deal of vanity in his composition, or the want of love 
 to a loving nature, provoked him to extort some sort 
 of admiration. He had been asking the bookseller 
 for works on magic, ghost-seers, mesmerism, and a 
 catalogue of works that made the man think his 
 little lordship one of the most wonderful children he
 
 Three Wives. 151 
 
 had ever seen. And his astonishment, almost fear, 
 made the child laugh with intense glee. All the 
 way home he could do nothing but talk and delight 
 himself with the astonishment of the bookseller, 
 and the impression he supposed he had made upon 
 him. 
 
 "Will you give me some more money, and take 
 me again to his shop ; for when I get home I will 
 write out the names of some still more extraordin- 
 ary books, and make him stare still more. I dare- 
 say he is telling everybody now how clever Lord 
 Nugent is V 
 
 " I am not so sure of that. I fancy he pities you 
 rather, because he sees you are not like other child- 
 ren, merry and playful." 
 
 " There is nothing like being clever." 
 
 " But are you so clever ? I scarcely know any 
 child of your age who would listen to and believe 
 the wild tales and stupid thoughts of an ill-edu- 
 cated nurse, rather than a mother who has never 
 shown you any other feeling than love." 
 
 He flushed the deepest red ; every nerve seemed 
 quivering with apprehension ; he absolutely alarm- 
 ed her into an apprehension that he would have a 
 fit. She soothed and kissed him, and finding him 
 turn deadly cold, endeavoured to warm him. As
 
 152 Three Wives. 
 
 she did so, she could not help fearing that a very 
 serious sin would rest upon the head of her Eliza- 
 beth, if by supineness and timidity she had not ex- 
 erted herself in time to save the life and reason of 
 this poor boy. Hardly could she bring herself to ex- 
 cuse her for not seeing, long ere this, what was 
 almost as palpable to Lady Ellerton as if she had 
 witnessed the woman's cruelty.
 
 153 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " If I were thou who singst this song, 
 Most wise for others — and most strong 
 In seeing right, while doing wrong ; 
 
 " I would not waste my cares, and choose, 
 As thou, to seek what thou must lose, 
 Such gains as perish in the use. 
 
 ' k I would not work, where none can win, 
 As thou, half way 'twixt grief and sin, 
 But look above, and judge within." 
 
 E. B. Browning. 
 
 " "T^ES, 'tis absolutely a fact ; she is not coming 
 -*- to town at all, and Sil, I can see, is any- 
 thing but pleased." 
 " What did he say ?" 
 
 " That no wife of his should neglect his wishes 
 for the sake of any children, or some words to that 
 effect. Of course I agreed with him, and while I 
 was giving him his breakfast, I entertained him 
 with descriptions of the infatuated way in which 
 one or two people that we know of behaved about
 
 154 Three Wives, 
 
 their children. If there is one thing Sil hates 
 more than another, 'tis a motherly mother — I 
 mean one who can think and talk of nothing but 
 her children, bringing the nursery into everything.' 5 
 
 " I can imagine how he would hate it, Audrey. 
 Many people are ignorant I have a brat." 
 
 "Of course, that is the right way to take it, 
 Eose." 
 
 " What is the row about 1 Can't she find it in 
 her heart to leave her child behind her, or is she 
 glad of the excuse to bury herself and her shyness 
 in the country ?" 
 
 " Oh ! 'tis nothing about her child. You know 
 I told you how obstinate she is. When she first 
 married, she took a dislike to Nugent's nurse, and 
 nothing would induce her to change her bad opin- 
 ion of her, until at last, taking advantage of none 
 of us being there, she got her watched, found out 
 something — no, I believe she watched herself — at 
 all events, she happened to be in the nursery when 
 Andrews took up a switch to give the boy a little 
 proper correction for going out driving with old 
 Lady Ellerton and forgetting to put on his gloves. 
 You must know Andrews is here, arrived last 
 night, and told me all this herself. Up starts my 
 lady out of some corner, or out of the floor — An-
 
 Three Wives, 155 
 
 drews has no idea, and snatching the boy up, with 
 a look like a fury, exclaimed, ' Woman, how dare 
 you f " 
 
 " Fancy looking like a fury, or being in a pas- 
 sion at all ! Really Andrews is to be envied at 
 having seen what we shall never see," 
 
 " Do not be too sure of that. Stupid people, 
 when they do get into, a passion, not only do it 
 better than other people, but get to like the excite- 
 ment of it. You will see she will turn out a tho- 
 roughly bad-tempered woman." 
 
 It crossed Lady Rose's mind, which was ever 
 ready to leap at the failings of even her best 
 friends, that Lady Audrey ought to be a pretty 
 good judge personally of a thoroughly bad-tem- 
 pered woman ; but she only said, with her sweet, 
 mocking laugh, " And so she dismissed her V 9 
 
 " Yes, and wisely and properly Andrews came 
 to town ; but Sil had been telegraphed for by the 
 doctor, and was obliged to start at once, without 
 waiting to hear her story." 
 
 " Had he not heard from Lady Silborough V 
 
 16 Oh ! yes, he had a letter three pages long by 
 the late post, telling the whole tale, and charging 
 Andrews with trying to poison him, or some such 
 stuff, and that Nugent was ill—had had a fit. In
 
 156 Three Wives. 
 
 short, though I did not see the letter, you can 
 imagine what it was ; but as he commented aloud 
 upon some of its contents, I learnt the fact that it 
 was probable she should not be able to come to 
 town at all. I suppose he was all the more vexed, 
 because he has filled her wardrobe with the love- 
 liest dresses;' 
 
 u You don't say so ! Could we not have a peep 
 at them ?" 
 
 " I fear not. I heard him tell old Ransome to 
 take care no one went near her ladyship's rooms." 
 
 " Can you tell me from whom he ordered them?" 
 
 " Oh ! the usual people. They will let you see 
 the patterns and trimmings in a minute. It would 
 be rather fun, Rose, if you got hold of them and 
 took the first gloss off them, because she is a very 
 prudent creature, and will be sure to make them 
 do for next year." 
 
 " Probably it would make him angry if 1 did 
 so. He does not credit us women with too much 
 of good-nature." 
 
 " I am afraid he knows us too well. I begged 
 him to write and tell me all particulars, and what 
 I should do about Andrews ; but you know him — 
 it is ten to one if I hear from him." 
 
 " But is he not going to the Royal ball !"
 
 Three Wives. 157 
 
 u Yes, and intended to take his wife also — at least, 
 one of the new dresses is for this ball. I can tell 
 you that it is trimmed with peacock's feathers." 
 
 " No — how can they be arranged to look even 
 tolerably well 1 I would give anything to see it." 
 
 Lady Audrey's nature was one of those which 
 derives a sort of pleasure from seeing another 
 tormented, though that other might be a friend. 
 
 " Oh ! 'tis most wonderfully and artistically 
 done, but I cannot for the life of me tell you how. 
 I am so short-sighted, you know, and had but a 
 glimpse of it. The head-dress I had in my hands, 
 and as no one can imitate it who has not the Sil- 
 borough diamonds, I think I can safely describe it 
 to you. It was composed of peacock's feathers, 
 the eyes standing upright like a coronet. In 
 some wonderful way they had contrived to put a 
 large diamond in every eye ; and there seemed to 
 me a sprinkling of smaller diamonds on some of 
 the points. These feathers were fixed in the Sil- 
 borough coronet, so that the pearls' points on it 
 stood up between each feather." 
 
 Lady Rose could have screamed aloud with envy 
 and anguish, as she afterwards told her Gaby ; 
 while at the same time she hated the ill-natured, 
 sour woman who, though her friend, yet dilated
 
 158 Three Wives, 
 
 and described and gloated over the wealth and 
 magnificence of the minor attributes of her house. 
 
 u I shall become pious, Gaby, and keep for ever 
 praying the boy may die, so that they cannot attend 
 the Court ball." 
 
 " Rose !" exclaimed Gaby, for the first time in 
 his life astonished at and ashamed of what his 
 darling said k 
 
 a Don't annoy me, Gaby," she replied, angrily \ 
 (i I have quite enough to put me out, without being 
 obliged to be angry with you." 
 
 "Be as angry as you like, Rose— but to wish 
 the death of a poor child I" 
 
 " You goose, couldirt you see I was only in fun ?" 
 
 "Do not have any more such fun — it gives me 
 quite a shudder." 
 
 "Just like you, beginning to be cross and ill* 
 tempered when I most want comforting." 
 
 a My dearest, 1 am aware that I am not as clever 
 as most people ; but as to being a good husband, 
 and a kind, and a tender, and a foolishly fond one, 
 there is not another like me in London," 
 
 And being modest, as well as good-tempered, 
 Gaby, after this irrepressible outburst of his own 
 opinion of himself, vanished out of the room and 
 out of the house t
 
 Three Wives. 159 
 
 Lady Rose had, what with one indulgence and 
 another, arrived at a serious crisis in her life. The 
 impulses of virtue were very faint within her ; 
 whilst the constant indulgence of all the small 
 vices had turned a lively, quick-witted, sociable 
 girl into a woman who was at one and the same 
 moment conceited and childish* In her anxiety 
 to be remarkable for something, she was often 
 ridiculous—the best of her thoughts and the rich- 
 ness of her imagination were both spent upon 
 dress ; while an exaggeration of speech coloured 
 all she said with the dross and verdigris of falsehood, 
 and scandal. All her good impulses were in a state 
 of torpor i while those that religion and humanity 
 alike forbid us to indulge in, were sprouting with 
 the rapidity of rank vegetation. And to no one 
 was this change in her more palpable than herself. 
 In her wildest conceits, she felt the miserable pain 
 of not being able to deceive herself ; and in her 
 fits of passion and ill-temper, she could have cried 
 over the change of what she had been and what 
 she was. And yet she resorted to the same plea- 
 sures, the same follies, that had caused the change, 
 to relieve her of the pain of feeling it. Never 
 had she been assailed by so strong a fit of humilia- 
 tion and depression as at the moment when her
 
 160 Three Wives. 
 
 amiable, good-hearted Gaby rushed from the room, 
 as if ashamed of his own boasting. Truly she 
 was right in telling him she wanted comfort, 
 though that comfort was, as usual, his sugared 
 drops of love, and praise of what people said of his 
 matchless Rosie — of her beauty, her wit, her dress. 
 It was thus Lady Rose smothered the remorse that 
 would keep showing its ugly head. And now 
 Gaby had left her to bear her fit of spleen alone. 
 Really, the poor little thing was much to be 
 pitied ; and in following the bent of her thoughts,, 
 , a clearer insight into her real condition will be the 
 better obtained. 
 
 " I am sure I do not know how in the world all 
 this is to end. I wish I had not been such a fool 
 as to think it absolutely en regie to marry the first 
 year I came out. I have had nothing of the fun 
 of a girl' si life ; and there are so many more men 
 now whom I ought to have married rather than 
 Gaby. They would have suited me better, as I 
 begin to be rather of mamma's mind — I want 
 keeping in order. Oh ! what a life is this London 
 life ! — what a wear and tear ! I am always in a 
 rage, or else dull as dull. And yet I could not, 
 would not live without it. What could we do 
 without some excitement of some sort. Clearly I
 
 Three Wives. 161 
 
 ought not to have married so soon ; it would be 
 something to amuse one to be looking about, 
 and having all the excitement of still having a 
 trousseau and a wedding before one, just as Flora 
 Allene is doing. She came out when I did, and 
 she is still Flora Allene, and still so admired 
 and sought after. I asked her if she meant to be 
 an old maid. ' By no means,' she replied. i Then 
 why don't you marry, you have only to choose V 
 ' That is very difficult, Rose. I can choose my 
 dresses and bonnets with one look, but a husband 
 I must know and esteem.' 'Pooh ! look at me and 
 Gaby !' i I do,' she replied, ' and take warning.' 
 So bitter of her ; and yet there is, as Gaby very 
 truly said, not such another husband as he is. And 
 oh ! sometimes, how I do hate him ! And it is all 
 because I married too soon. I don't suppose I ever 
 should have been Lady Silborough. No, I don't 
 go so far as that now, for I can see what he is — a 
 most selfish, proud man, so hugely possessed with 
 Silborough ideas, he can think of nothing else. I 
 thought him at one time so superior, but since I 
 have seen so much of him I don't care for anything 
 regarding him, but the amusement of making so 
 stiff and arrogant a creature flirt with me. How 
 that ill-natured Lady Audrey would chuckle if I 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 Three Wives. 
 
 was to get his high mightiness into a sort of a whiff 
 of scandal. As I have nothing else to amuse me, I 
 mean to go on trying, if only to see whether a flirt- 
 ation with me would startle that simple Elizabeth 
 into anything like feeling. I must be amused, and 
 it is so ill-natured of Gaby not seeing this. What 
 does it matter if we do get into debt ? None of 
 his people will let Gaby go to jail, and it would be 
 some fun if he was to go, and I visit him there. 
 I would put on my sister dress, in which Lord Sil- 
 borough thought I was so bewitching. ' To die 
 for one !' Fancy his saying that ! I suppose, after 
 all, the man has not only a heart, but is capable of 
 feeling that there is something to be praised be- 
 sides a Silborough. Dull creature ! I hate people 
 who are always thinking of their own consequence. 
 If I had not married in such a hurry, there is the 
 Duke of Stradarven coming home. And I don't 
 see that 1 am a bit less handsome than when I 
 came out. On the contrary, even mamma ac- 
 knowledges that, when I am not what she calls 
 1 rattling,' I am very much improved both in demean- 
 our and etiquette. And yet, my dear good darling 
 father will not let me chaperon Adelaide any- 
 where. Perhaps they want to catch the Duke for 
 her; but I can tell them his grandmother will
 
 Three Wives. 163 
 
 choose his wife. She used to be very kind to me, 
 and now gives me the cold shoulder, which has 
 annoyed mamma beyond anything. Well, I can- 
 not help it, and I don't care ! If you want to get 
 on in London you must care for nothing; and as 
 for being squeamish about people, I do believe, if 
 one was to be so, there would be nothing but dul- 
 ness and decorum left. Still I should like to know 
 how all this will end, because, if I am going to 
 have periodical fits of melancholy and despair, I 
 shall make away with myself. Last year I did 
 pretty well with the Nutshell dinners, but Pere 
 Raby is now too wide-awake for me. And as for 
 bothering my brains to dress in the peculiar style 
 they are doing now, really I cannot do it. I wonder 
 if I shall ever feel happy and good-humoured 
 again ? I wonder how those peacock -feathers were 
 arranged ? Her Countess's coronet set with fea- 
 thers, and the pearl balls rising above, really it was 
 just the sort of head-dress I should have invented, 
 had I been a Countess ; and to be wasted on her ! 
 Well, she is equally incapacitated from being 
 Duchess of Stradarven, that's one comfort. But 
 how is all this to end ? If at twenty years of age 
 I feel so miserable and spiritless, longing for the 
 London season to be over, as I have had nothing 
 
 M 2
 
 164 Three Wives. 
 
 but worry and vexation, yet what have I to look 
 forward to to amuse me ? Nothing !" 
 
 And the poor little creature's tears burst forth. 
 She cried bitterly for some time, and having thus 
 experienced what she called the " luxury of tears," 
 she became happier ; all the more so because there 
 was something of a consoling and soothing of her 
 conscience in the act. For the prettiest, best 
 dressed, merriest creature in London, to shut her- 
 self up, and begin to think, and, after thinking, to 
 cry and bemoan herself, was, without doubt, very 
 praiseworthy. She was going out to a grand din- 
 ner. If a man of a sympathising, friendly nature, 
 one of her intimate friends, took her in to dinner, 
 it would be great fun to describe to him how 
 miserable she had felt, and how she had cried.
 
 165 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " An accent very low 
 In blandishment, but a most silver flow 
 
 Of subtle paced council in distress, 
 Right to the heart and brain, the undescried, 
 
 Winning its way with extreme gentleness 
 Through all the outworks of suspicious pride." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 T ADY ROSE has given her opinion of Lord 
 -M Silborough, and if it was in some things cor- 
 rect, it did not do him justice in others. He was 
 really a good-hearted man, and on reaching home, 
 and seeing his poor little boy lying almost insen- 
 sible in the arms of Lady Silborough, whatever he 
 had thought on leaving London, he had now no 
 other feeling in his heart but of anxiety and affec- 
 tion for both. 
 
 It was true, as Andrews had said, that Lady 
 Silborough was in the nursery when Lord Nugent 
 returned from his drive. She had had her inter-
 
 166 Three Wives. 
 
 view with the woman there, according to the ad- 
 vice of her grandmother, and having told her of 
 their suspicions as to her giving some deleterious 
 narcotic, Lady Silborough proceeded to say, in 
 simple but forcible words, that she was sure An- 
 drews had prejudiced the child against her. 
 
 " So far from doing so," answered Andrews, " it 
 was very pleasant to me to be relieved from the 
 responsibility of so strange a child." 
 
 "You must pardon me that I do not believe 
 you," answered the gentle Elizabeth, with a firm- 
 ness that surprised herself. 
 
 An evil, sullen look came into the woman's face. 
 " Fortunately my character is not at the mercy of 
 people who have not the wisdom of even a child," 
 she answered. 
 
 " 'Tis true, I am ignorant in many things, which 
 I shall always lament, as it is the cause why my 
 son has been so long left in your hands." An- 
 drews looked so malignant and cruel, and appeared 
 so likely to break out into impudence, that Lady 
 Silborough continued quickly, "You will have 
 his bed placed by mine ; and until my lord comes, 
 I desire you have nothing to do with him ;" and 
 then left the room. 
 
 She went to her baby, then for a walk among
 
 Three Wives. 167 
 
 the beautiful and stately trees, her heart scarce 
 able to recognize the beauty of the scenery, or to 
 feel the freshness of the air, so remorseful was she 
 at the indolent, reprehensible apathy with which 
 she had let this poor child wither and pine under 
 her eyes. 
 
 " But I will, please God, repair my fault. Even 
 if I have to give up some of this gaiety, which 
 now I seem to desire and wish for — all shall be 
 done to make him happy, while I relieve my own 
 conscience. How easy it is to drift into sin ! 
 How glad I am to Teel this stern monitor within 
 me, that methinks will not let me rest ! It seems 
 strange how rapidly one thought brings on ano- 
 ther! My apathy about the darling child makes 
 me see a number of other faults in myself — some 
 towards Audrey, her husband — my husband — my 
 Harry. I think, perhaps, Audrey sins a little 
 against me, but that must be no excuse to me. I 
 have hitherto refrained from doing certain things, 
 priding myself that I gave back no sharp retort — 
 but what is that ? Surely, if I am to be what I 
 hope to be — worthy the place God has given me 
 in the world — I. shall remember the unprofitable 
 servant, the wasted talent, the curse on those who 
 did no good. If I mean to be kind, it must not
 
 168 Three Wives. 
 
 be coldly, with but half my heart. If I am to 
 give up my own wishes, shall I mar the doing it 
 by any thought, much less those of reluctance ? 
 Oh ! no ; I see — I perceive that no goodness dwells 
 with a trembling, foolish heart, such as mine was. 
 I know it by the wonderful power of love and 
 sympathy that wells up in my heart for all and 
 everything — by the gratitude that makes me 
 yearn towards God, asking Him to make me 
 happy by doing work for Him. How strong is 
 the dawning of hope and energy in my heart ! 
 How exquisite that heavenly intuition which 
 prompts the action my heart would like to do ! 
 Perhaps I may be so fortunate as to make Audrey 
 love me, whether or no ; perhaps — nay, there is 
 no perhaps in this — Henry has loved his simple, 
 quiet wife ; but he shall do more than love her. 
 I found an echo in my heart to the words grand- 
 mamma was reading aloud to-day, ' That to love 
 mankind was to love oneself, but not after a selfish 
 fashion ; rather this love begot in one self-respect, 
 humility, and firmness of character — whereas those 
 who loved not their kind were essentially selfish, 
 vain, and arrogant.' Oh ! but I will love all whom 
 I may. And never will I neglect or resist the in- 
 ward prompting, that I fear has so often knocked
 
 Three Wives. 169 
 
 at the door of my conscience, and been unheeded 
 or dismissed. There is one now — I must return 
 to the house, and take care my little Nugent finds 
 a refuge in my arms, if he wants one." 
 
 Elizabeth, after removing her things, went up to 
 the nursery to wait for the boy. No one was in 
 the room, and she placed herself within the recess 
 of an oriel window, from which w T as spread out to 
 her view one of those exquisite scenes of English 
 landscape that make the heart glad to look on. 
 The glowing sunset gave the rural verdure and 
 freshness a richness and beauty that caused Eliza- 
 beth to wonder if heaven itself could be more fair ; 
 lifting her now so sensitive heart up to that heaven 
 in a fervent prayer that she might live as if it was 
 so ; to be, as nearly as an erring creature might, 
 one of God's ministering angels. As a smile came 
 to her lips and a glow filled her heart at this thought, 
 she was suddenly roused by the opening of the 
 nursery door, and the very circumstance she was 
 in that room to prevent had already taken place, 
 for Andrews appeared, her evil face inflamed with 
 passion, dragging Nugent by the arm. 
 
 " So, my lord, you have been disobeying me. 
 You know I keep my word — oh ! yes, you know I 
 never break my word. Off with your coat — off, I
 
 170 Three Wives. 
 
 say, off with every tiling ! Not a rag shall you have 
 on, while I keep my word !" 
 
 The boy at first murmured a few words, such as 
 " Nothing — I said nothing ; you know I said no- 
 thing !" 
 
 She tore his clothes off as if she was mad. A 
 low, wailing sound came from the child's mouth. 
 It roused Elizabeth from the sudden shock she had 
 felt at being convicted in her own heart of intending 
 to do so much, yet having permitted what she most 
 feared to happen. As Andrews drew from the 
 upper part of the frame of a large picture a whip, 
 Lady Silborough darted forward, and snatching the 
 child up in her arms, exclaimed, with the passion 
 and agony of an enraged mother, 
 
 " Woman ! how dare you ?" Then melting into 
 a sudden flood of tears, she bent her face over the 
 boy, exclaiming, " My darling ! — oh ! my darling !" 
 
 The little white face turned to meet her kiss, a 
 soft little smile fluttered on his face, then with a 
 sudden loud cry he fell into violent convulsions. 
 
 Horrified and heart-broken, though she could 
 scarcely hold him, Elizabeth sternly forbade An- 
 drews to come near her ; and Margaret entering the 
 room, between them the little sufferer was con- 
 veyed down into his mother's room. Here Lady
 
 Three Wives. 171 
 
 Ellerton's experience was of infinite service, and 
 before the arrival of the doctor the convulsions 
 were over, though the child still seemed insensible. 
 Angry as she was with herself, Lady Silborough 
 felt, for the first time in her life, an abhorrence of 
 two people — one the woman Andrews, and the other 
 the doctor. Lady Ellerton having told him her 
 suspicions about the giving of narcotics and other 
 drugs, he replied, 
 
 " This accounts for much of his ill-health." 
 
 " Could you not detect it, sir f" 
 
 " Well, no : Andrews always gave me satisfactory 
 reasons for his little ailments, and my lord seemed 
 so fully to trust her, I considered it best not to 
 interfere." 
 
 " Sir," answered the hitherto gentle, shy Eliza- 
 beth, to her grandmother's infinite astonishment, 
 " my lord will not forgive me if I permit you to 
 enter this house again. Go, sir, and I hope God 
 will be so merciful as to let you feel the iniquity of 
 your conduct, that you may repent." 
 
 The stern dignity of her manner, the solemnity 
 expressed in her fair young face, made the man 
 tremble before her. As she rang the bell for his 
 carriage, he made some effort at apology. 
 
 " I shall forgive you, sir, I hope, before you can
 
 172 Three Wi 
 
 forgive yourself ; and I will permit you the atone- 
 ment of sending at once from Silborough another 
 doctor." 
 
 He thanked her with real feeling. 
 
 Meantime, she desired to catch the late post, and 
 sat by the poor child's crib, writing to her husband. 
 By the time she had finished the letter, the other 
 doctor came. He seemed very earnest and careful, 
 and evidently had learnt part of the case from 
 Doctor Ewart. He was uneasy about the continued 
 insensibility — still more so when he was in posses- 
 sion of every particular. 
 
 "The brain evidently has been diseased for 
 some time. In so young a subject, where a shock 
 has brought on convulsions, it is hardly possible to 
 realise the mischief done. The first dawn of sensi- 
 bility may be attended with a fresh attack, which, 
 I need not say, will add greatly to the danger of the 
 case. He must not be left for a moment — even the 
 movement of his eyelids must be watched, and of 
 his fingers. His head must be constantly bathed, 
 but the circulation of his body thoroughly kept up 
 with warm clothing, and hot bottles, if necessary. 
 I will return to Silborough for some medicine and 
 other things, and, with your ladyship's permission, 
 will telegraph to my lord to bring down Doctor
 
 Three Wives, 173 
 
 Harcourt. If lie cannot do him good, no other 
 doctor can." 
 
 All that night Elizabeth watched by her little 
 son. On the slightest movement she was murmur- 
 ing in his ear, 
 
 " My darling, oh ! my darling !" 
 
 The doctor, who, on returning from Silborough, 
 remained all night in the house, pronounced an 
 improvement in the pulse, and a more natural 
 movement of the limbs and muscles. But still the 
 white eyelids remained motionless, just showing 
 enough of the eyes beneath, to let it be seen they 
 were glazed and unobservant. 
 
 When Lord Silborough arrived, he found his 
 wife with dishevelled hair, her fair face flushed, her 
 usually calm blue eyes all aglow with tenderest love, 
 fear, and pity, her dress nothing but a tumbled white 
 wrapper, and yet so inexpressibly lovely and attract- 
 ive, that as she threw herself into his arms, un- 
 able to speak, he clasped her to his heart with a 
 sort of strange remembrance of the words he had 
 said to Captain Kaby, on seeing the vivacious Lady 
 Rose in a sister's dress. Why they recurred to him 
 at such a moment he could not tell, but that they 
 did so was evidenced from the fact that he could 
 hardly help exclaiming,
 
 174 Three Wives, 
 
 "This — this is the creature for whom a man 
 could die, and she is mine !" 
 
 Dr. Harcourt was almost as full of fears for the 
 result of little Nugent's first dawn of sensibility as 
 the country doctor. It was not until five o'clock in 
 the evening that a twitching of the eyelids began 
 to be visible. 
 
 " You will stand a little out of sight — you will 
 leave him to me, will you not V asked Elizabeth 
 imploringly. 
 
 " We certainly think it best to do so." 
 
 Then with her tender mother's voice, with her 
 sweet mother's kisses, the young stepmother tried to 
 restore her little stepson to life and reason. 
 
 " My darling, oh ! my darling !" they heard her 
 murmuring with untiring constancy, " do you feel 
 your mother's kisses % Will you kiss your mo- 
 ther, who gave you a little sister? Will my darling 
 boy look up ? — will he say a word, only a word, to 
 please papa." 
 
 If the other hearers in the room, being men, 
 and unacquainted with the character of Lady Sil- 
 borough, were moved almost to tears by the ex- 
 quisite pathos and tenderness of her words and 
 actions, what was the effect on her grandmother ? 
 
 God has been so bountiful as to bless us with
 
 Three Wives. 175 
 
 emotions that, out of a very ecstasy of gladness, 
 have no other expression than tears — tears that, 
 analysed, seemed to have risen as dew from the soul, 
 to be absorbed by the sunshine of the heart. Never 
 does this feeling arise more truly than in the aged 
 pilgrim ; who, having borne the heat and burden 
 of the day, and resting in peace, no longer racked 
 by the throes of passion, temptation, and remorse, 
 sees a beloved one launched forth into that whirl- 
 pool, the world, to undergo all that they have 
 undergone — and sees them safe. How they watch 
 the little bark ! how they feel their own pangs 
 over again as it wavers, and is tempest -tossed — how 
 they pray for it, and look anxiously on to see the 
 distance into the smooth water, and all that it will 
 have to encounter ere it reaches it ; and how raptur- 
 ously, how joyously they perceive the fragile thing 
 look up to a star in heaven, and guiding itself by 
 it, leap over dangers, escape shoals and rocks, and, 
 without a pause or delay, steer swiftly, unerringly 
 into harbour. 
 
 .Lady Ellerton felt that the heart of her fair 
 and gentle Elizabeth had awakened up out of a 
 dream of insensibility into the full enthusiasm of 
 life. Perhaps under no other circumstances would 
 her character have so soon, or so completely, devel-
 
 176 Three Wives. 
 
 oped itself. But her remorse quickened the innate 
 tenderness of her heart, and together they were 
 about to make her one of those beautiful instances 
 of refined womanhood that cast a halo on the age 
 in which they live. How tenderly and gently had 
 the good God " delivered her from evil," thought 
 Lady Ellerton — the evil of selfishness, insensibility, 
 and hardness, those sins engendered by riches and 
 prosperity, and which are so powerful to enslave. 
 By no other means could one of her peculiar char- 
 acter, timid, and " delicately " refined, have burst 
 the ligatures that kept her heart shut up to all but 
 herself, while she retreated before unloved duties, 
 the common habits, and the loud and bewildering 
 merriment that the world called pleasure. 
 
 As Lady Ellerton's heart filled with delight at 
 these thoughts, little hot lips tried to return the 
 stepmother's kisses, and a weak little child's voice 
 murmured, 
 
 " Mamma — mamma !"
 
 177 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " That blessed mood 
 In which the burthen of the mystery, 
 In which the heavy, and the weary weight 
 Of all this unintelligible world 
 Is lightened, that serene and blessed mood 
 In which the affections gently lead us on." 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 rpHE peacock dress remained unseen in the 
 •*- wardrobe, and the unique coronet, with its 
 diamonds, pearls, and peacock eyes, did not shine 
 upon London as the head-dress of the season. 
 
 " The Earl and Countess of Silborough," said 
 the Court Guide, "were prevented attending at 
 Court by the dangerous illness of their only son, 
 Viscount Nugent." 
 
 In a week or two the same paper chronicled : 
 " The Earl and Countess of Silborough have 
 taken a house at Torquay for the season, on ac- 
 count of the health of Viscount Nugent." 
 
 By-and-by it became known that Lord Silbo- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 Three Wives. 
 
 rough had bought a yacht, and having no other 
 amusement, was trying how he might imagine 
 himself a sailor. It does not follow that, because 
 people are great, and rich, and powerful, they do 
 not often wish themselves in the position of the 
 hard-working, danger-seeking, obedient servant of 
 Queen, country, and master. They have their 
 times of longing for change, for any other feeling, 
 for some other state, for freedom from the tram- 
 mels of riches, for absolute seclusion. The two 
 latter are truly blessings, of which those who pos- 
 sess them can scarcely understand the boon they 
 would be to those who do not. To flee away from 
 all the state, pomp, and publicity of rank and sta- 
 tion — to lose themselves and their grandeur in 
 some foreign country — to taste the comfort of be- 
 ing able to do and say what common people are 
 permitted to do and say, without the fear of being 
 held up aloft as an example or a warning— must 
 needs be of inestimable price to the " upper ten 
 thousand." Let us not begrudge it to them, but 
 the rather grant to those whom God has given the 
 dangerous and ensnaring " talent " of riches and 
 prosperity, the widest field for the putting it out 
 to interest — the most charitable constructions, the 
 most merciful judgment, the love and sympathy
 
 Three Wives. 179 
 
 of a people who, while they boast of their Queen 
 and country, regard the ancient blood that flows 
 in the veins of their aristocracy as the pure stream 
 that niters through the country, refining the dregs, 
 elevating the mass, correcting the rude bellowings 
 of democracy ; and shining w T ith the gentle lustre 
 of dignity, courtesy, and refinement, cast the puri- 
 fying halo of polished civilization into the remotest 
 hamlet. 
 
 Amidst all the wild and reckless pursuit of pleas- 
 ure, now so glaring a feature of London society — 
 the rush, as among the Athenians of old, after some 
 new thing — the insensibility that permits vice to 
 walk amidst them unreproved — it may be question- 
 ed, with almost a certainty as to the reply whether 
 the higher aristocracy — the real a upper ten thou- 
 sand" — have much participation in it. The in- 
 crease of riches, the vast fortunes made by trade, 
 the encroachments and impudence of those who 
 feel they have " power " in their pockets, if they 
 have the basest blood in their veins, have each 
 tended to alter the state of society. People with 
 rank, but not wealth, find themselves obliged to 
 meet with friendly and cordial grasp those whose 
 manners or antecedents may horrify them, but 
 who possess wealthy sons for their daughters' hus- 
 
 k2
 
 180 Three Wives. 
 
 bands, or hold in their hands some rich morsel for 
 a younger son. 
 
 It was always intended that each class in society 
 should in a certain manner be dependent on each 
 other for certain gifts the one lacked, and the 
 other had enough of, and to spare. The only 
 question was, how much was to be spared % If 
 the one lacking drew, in his eagerness and thirst, 
 more than the other could well afford to give 
 without hurt to himself, it naturally followed that 
 they changed places. And then ensued the ano- 
 maly of the upper being the lower — the servant 
 ordering his master. Looking back into history, 
 these bouleversements often occurred, and always to 
 the detriment of the country in which they hap- 
 pened. Disorder, demoralisation, and general 
 confusion became the rulers, in the place of me- 
 thod, arrangement, and symmetry ; and in ponder- 
 ing upon the state of society in the present day, 
 it is much to be feared that the bold, daring, bois- 
 terous blood of Englishmen, rendered bolder and 
 more daring by the wealth they have gathered to- 
 gether, with admirable industry and wisdom, has 
 pitted itself against the delicate refinements of the 
 English noblemen, and, like the " tender, delicate 
 woman who would not adventure to set the sole of
 
 Three Wives. 181 
 
 her foot on the ground for tenderness and delicacy," 
 their delicacy and refinement have given way be- 
 fore the mad impulses of riotous enjoyment. Too 
 much of the bold, joyous blood has been sucked in 
 by that class from whom flow all the gentle courte- 
 sies which are as the golden frame encircling the 
 beautiful picture, setting forth its beauty and worth. 
 And the stream is flowing somewhat rank, turbid, 
 and muddy, bubbling and seething, down into 
 slums, alleys, dense streets of the working-classes 
 of England, percolating through country lanes, 
 and contaminating healthy, contented hamlets with 
 the odours of feverish, moody infatuation. 
 
 Will the society of England right itself, di- 
 viding itself once more into that upper class who 
 have a regal sense of their position, of the homage 
 due to virtue, of the nobility of self-respect ; and 
 the second class, of brave, independent, wealthy 
 men, who understand and love the dignity of work ; 
 with that lower class of all, who receive from the 
 hands of both the price of the labour that sweetens 
 all the blessings of life, giving delicious sauce to 
 their food, an exquisite sense of the gratefulness of 
 sleep, a simple but heartfelt enjoyment of a holi- 
 day, and the infinite good fortune of a charity that 
 is showered down on him with a royal bounty ?
 
 182 Three Wives. 
 
 It is to be hoped the natural good sense of Eng- 
 lish people will take the question to heart, and 
 looking abroad, right and left, behind and before, 
 see that on each class's assisting the other de- 
 pends the welfare of the country that is so dear to 
 them. No encroaching the one on the other — let 
 each keep its place. The upper to refine and 
 make beautiful that which is valuable ; the second 
 to give out from their ranks those whose concep- 
 tion of nobility extends to the man of God, to the 
 patriot, the hero, the philosopher, accrediting them 
 with rank of soul, of mind, of brains ; and both, 
 as before, causing the lower class to look up, as 
 children, to their father, and, in looking, to revere, 
 to love, to obey the superiority that they admit, 
 while they admire. 
 
 " Oh ! Jerusalem, Jerusalem, why will ye not 
 be gathered together under one fold and one Shep- 
 herd?" 
 
 If his wife, through the influence of a ten- 
 der heart, had broken through the fetters that 
 seemed to enchain her shy nature, as a pri- 
 soner, Lord Silborough had the disadvantage 
 of being still in the possession of an insensible 
 heart. Insensible after this fashion, that he had 
 not that quiet warmth which anticipates a sensa-
 
 Three Wives. 183 
 
 tion. He was kind, amiable, good-natured to the 
 world, but anything like sensation or affection w r as 
 only felt for himself and those who belonged to 
 himself. He had been, and still was, much grieved 
 about his son, added to which was a certain an- 
 noyance that Viscount Nugent, his heir, should 
 have been nearly killed, and, at all events, was 
 seriously injured by the disgraceful behaviour of 
 a servant, a common sort of creature, whose boast 
 it ought to have been that she might put on the 
 shoes of this great Viscount Nugent ! Lord Sil- 
 borough lost sight of his son's danger in the anger 
 occasioned by the indignities offered to him. He 
 had sent to his sister an immediate order for the 
 dismissal of the woman from Silborough House, 
 and a threat that should his son die, no fear of 
 any annoyance to himself would deter Lord Sil- 
 borough from having her taken up on the charge 
 of murder. In his first passion, he wrote in such 
 strong terms, that it almost seemed to Lady Au- 
 drey and the woman that he would be glad if he 
 lost his son, rather than forego his revenge. There- 
 fore, in fear and terror, Andrews accepted the help 
 of Mr. Buckhurst, to quit the country altogether ; 
 he being moved to assist her in this way by the 
 hope of ingratiating himself with his brother-in-law.
 
 184 Three Wives. 
 
 Whether Lord Silborough appreciated his efforts 
 or not, the news that Andrews had sailed for 
 America, and was recommended to try her fortune 
 among the Mormons, arrived at an opportune 
 crisis of her poor little victim's illness. As he lay- 
 in his step-mother's arms, out of which he cared 
 not to be removed when awake, his father sitting 
 by, noticed the terror that came into his eyes every 
 time the door opened. 
 
 " Why are you frightened, Nugent ?" he asked. 
 
 ei Papa," said the little fellow, feebly struggling 
 in his weakness with those feelings of pride and 
 vanity that had made him so strange a child, " I 
 am always expecting Andrews." 
 
 " Then, my boy, expect her no more, she has 
 sailed to America." 
 
 The boy raised himself up, and repeating, " Six 
 thousand and more miles over the sea — it takes eight 
 or ten days to get there — she might come back." 
 
 " Let her," answered his father, angrily. " I 
 will put her in jail if she does." 
 
 " Put her in jail out there, papa !" said the boy, 
 with a shudder. 
 
 " My darling," whispered his mother, " she will 
 not, cannot come back. I am your nurse — your 
 mother !"
 
 Three Wives. 185 
 
 And his little feeble arm was round her neck in 
 a moment, his eyes gazing into hers with such love, 
 hope, and happiness, she felt that nothing should 
 ever sever her from her husband's child. But it was 
 in a matter like this that Lord Silborough's heart 
 failed to answer. Loving his wife perhaps more 
 than he had ever done before, involuntarily accord- 
 ing her that admiration her sweet lovingness de- 
 manded, he yet did not see that, to perfect the cure 
 of his son, to satisfy her tender remorse, he must 
 give them both up to each other for a time. He 
 was not without affection for his boy, but at pre- 
 sent an affection for himself was stronger. Eliza- 
 beth, in his opinion, had never looked more lovely. 
 Her beauty was more refined and delicate than 
 ever, from her recent seclusion. Added to which, 
 was the beautiful charm of expression that illu- 
 mined her face, as light illumines the diamond. 
 He was proud of her, and longed to let her blaze 
 like a meteor in the waning of the London season. 
 He knew the habit of the multitude, their idolatry 
 of some new thing, their enthusiastic rushing after 
 sensation. And what a sensation she would cause, 
 especially with the halo of her sweet lovingness to 
 her stepson, whose life and reason she had saved. 
 He could not understand the feeling that made her
 
 186 Three Wives. 
 
 reject with horror the idea of leaving the boy, 
 whose reason still demanded the utmost vigilance 
 and care. 
 
 " I had provided so many fine things for you, 
 Elizabeth," 
 
 " Did you, Henry ? Oh ! how kind of you — how 
 like you ! All the more must I devote myself to 
 our darling, to show my gratitude." 
 
 " Where did you learn to call me Henry, Eliza- 
 beth r 
 
 "I have always called you so/' she answered, 
 blushing. 
 
 " I never heard you." 
 
 " 1 did so from the first, in my mind. I spoke 
 of you to myself by that name. Do you dislike it?" 
 
 " Dislike it, love ! No, I can hardly tell you the 
 curious sensation it gave me to hear the name of 
 my childhood ; it was only when I went to school 
 that I lost it." 
 
 " I could not call you what the world called you, 
 but you did not ask me to call you by any other 
 name." 
 
 "Are you so romantic, Elizabeth? I should 
 have thought you the last person to think such 
 things. You are, or were, so much too shy." 
 
 a Oh !" said Elizabeth, smiling and blushing,
 
 Three Wives. 187 
 
 u we shy people are, if anything, too sensitive. I 
 hope you will forgive me, but sometimes, to myself, 
 I call you Harry." 
 
 " Do you, darling V he replied, bewitched into 
 a state of ecstasy by the sweet attraction of her 
 look and manner. " I have a mind to punish you 
 by desiring you call me by no other name." 
 
 " I will call you Harry on great and momentous 
 occasions, since you like it." 
 
 " My name is Harry too," interrupted Nugent, 
 with a sudden jealousy. 
 
 u I don't know you by any other name than ( dar- 
 ling ' ! " whispered the loving step-mother. 
 
 u Do you call him ' darling' V* inquired Nugent, 
 pointing irreverently to his father. 
 
 "No, Nugent," answered his father, good- 
 humouredly, " she has never done so yet. But I 
 shall be much obliged to you to make her say it 
 to me sometimes." 
 
 " I may sometimes," said the little lord, patro- 
 nizingly ; u sometimes when I am not by to hear." 
 
 u What a funny little jealous fellow it is !" said 
 his father, carelessly amused. 
 
 It was clear that all the attractions that London 
 might offer would not beguile Lady Silborough 
 from home. When it was suggested that new
 
 188 Three Wives. 
 
 scenes and other air were alone wanted to complete 
 Lord Nugent' s cure, Lord Silborough thought with 
 a little dismay of the autumn passed, as he con- 
 sidered it, acting as one of the nurses. It was 
 Elizabeth who suggested the amusement of a yacht, 
 and it may be questioned if Lord Silborough ever 
 enjoyed more quiet happiness in his life than sail- 
 ing about the coast in his yacht, accompanied by 
 his beautiful, blooming wife, his convalescent boy, 
 and all the luxuries that brains could invent or 
 money buy. Yet was there one thing wanting — 
 just the least sensibility, on his part, of the cause of 
 his happiness. He merely thought it was a very 
 jolly time.
 
 189 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 1 The busy world,' she said, all mockingly ; 
 ' The idle world — most idle in its toil — 
 And toiling in its happiest idleness ! 
 The foolish world ; — the ignorant suicide 
 That kills itself with care, and knows it not ' ' 
 
 T. Wade. 
 
 'ITEANTIME the Rabys were visiting the Buck- 
 --'-*- hursts at Silborough ; and it is needless to 
 say, with nothing but country neighbours, some 
 races, and a county ball, Lady Rose found herself 
 far from merry. 
 
 Lady Audrey in London was only just bearable, 
 but at Silborough she was insufferable. She so 
 far recognized the power of the London crowd as 
 not to try to make herself conspicuous in it — but 
 here at home, a Silborough born, in the Silborough 
 country, she was wholly unable to keep her bal- 
 ance. And she was lording it and ladying it, in 
 consequence of the absense of the proper lord and
 
 190 Three Wives, 
 
 lady, in a manner truly ridiculous. At one mo- 
 ment she was displaying all the glories of her 
 birthplace — at the next mysteriously withholding 
 them, as not fitted for common eyes. She was 
 magnificent and voluminous in her promises — con- 
 temptible and little in her performances. Mr. 
 Buckhurst did his best to keep her pride in some 
 sort of order, and her ill-temper and captiousness 
 under control ; but the happiness of being able to 
 lord it and lady it was too much for her. 
 
 "Gaby, I shall die if you keep me here any 
 longer — 'take me away I" 
 
 "Take you away, darling? What has hap- 
 pened? That ill-natured creature has insulted 
 youf 
 
 " Not at all — I should like to see her do it ; but 
 she bores me. I am dull, Gaby—- 1 am dying of 
 dulness." 
 
 "My poor darling ! but what are we to do? We 
 settled to stay a month here ; and you know, as 
 usual, my pockets are completely empty." 
 
 " I wish I had not quarrelled with mamma, or 
 we might go to Alwyn. It was so injudicious of 
 her, trying to advise me." 
 
 " Darling, she did it for the best ; and your 
 father was anxious, as you know, Rose."
 
 Three Wives. 191 
 
 " Gaby, don't incense me !" 
 
 " Not for the worlds dear ; only I feel sure, if 
 you would like to go to Alwyn, they will welcome 
 you warmly." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, just as if I was a good child, and 
 was very sorry for my fault ! No. Gaby, if 
 there is one thing on which I pride myself more 
 than another, it is holding my own. Mamma 
 completely forgot herself, and when she would 
 have apologised, she only made matters worse by 
 saying she wished to caution me, for Adelaide's 
 sake. As if I was not as dear to her as Adelaide !" 
 
 u It was that particular party, Rose, After all, 
 darling, it was a very bad party. I am sorry we 
 went. They were too fast even for me." 
 
 u For you — you, Gaby ! Of course they were, 
 you innocent thing ; but that is just what I like — 
 to mix in it all, have all the fun, and keep out of 
 the mess." 
 
 u But do we keep out of the mess ! My father 
 was awfully angry at my going ; and was most 
 furious that I took you." 
 
 " Took me ! I beg your pardon, Gaby. I am 
 never taken by anyone. I took you." 
 
 "But I was not going to tell my father that, 
 Rosie,"
 
 192 Three Wives. 
 
 This his Rosie graciously allowed was no more 
 than right of him ; and, basking in the sunshine 
 of unusual praise, Gaby rashly proposed going to 
 Raby Hall. 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! — do I hear aright ? Go 
 to Raby ! You want to kill me, Gaby, to get rid 
 of your poor little Rosie." 
 
 " Upon my soul, Rose, I don't," replied Gaby, 
 nettled. " I have not been to visit my mother for 
 eight months ; and she is always writing to me 
 about the child, wanting so much to see it." 
 
 " For goodness sake, let her have it, and keep 
 it ! I wouldn't deprive her of that pleasure for 
 the world. And, if you have a dutiful fit on you, 
 why, go also. 1 am sure, if I was anywhere but 
 here, I should not miss you." 
 
 6i Oh ! Rose, you are unkind ; and, indeed, I 
 cannot but think you might remember how good 
 my people are — so generous " 
 
 " They are too good for me. I shall not forget 
 in a hurry the fortnight we spent there just after 
 we were married. Your father always talking po- 
 litics or crops." 
 
 " My father wants me to get into Parliament." 
 
 " Oh ! Gaby, you a legislator, with not two ideas 
 in 3'our head at one time, unless I put them there.
 
 Three Wives. 193 
 
 And why on earth need we bother ourselves about 
 the country ?" 
 
 " Somebody must, Rose ; and my mother de- 
 clares she would rather have her children true 
 patriots than anything else." 
 
 "Or a goody like herself, going about with 
 soup and flannel, telling me who is sick in that 
 cottage, and how many children in the other, and 
 of wonderful old creatures two hundred years 
 old " 
 
 " Rose, Rose !" 
 
 " And your sister Matilda teaching the dirty 
 brats, and Louisa always bothering about science 
 and ologies. Not a single reasonable idea amongst 
 them of anything going on in the world." 
 
 " Pardon me, Rose," said the good Gaby, now 
 considerably nettled, " it would be very well for us 
 if we were half as good, or half as clever." 
 
 " Dear, dutiful boy, it shall go to its mother, it 
 shall, and help with the soup and the flannel, and 
 teach the little brats, that is, if it knows its own A 
 B C, and learn an ology or two." 
 
 Gaby was wise enough to take refuge in flight. 
 And as is the case with very good-natured people, 
 .once they are seriously disturbed in mind, 'tis very 
 difficult for them to right themselves. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 Three Wives. 
 
 He smoked incessantly for two hours, and found 
 himself rather worse than better. He took a walk 
 of ten miles, and returned hot in every way. He 
 locked himself up in his own room and sulked. 
 Finally, he took out a picture of his mother, that 
 he kept in his dressing-case, intending to swear to 
 it he would see her righted, — poor fellow, so he 
 expressed and so he felt it, doubtless, not being capa- 
 ble of perceiving that a frivolous little mind like 
 his wife's could not wrong her. As he looked at 
 the picture, and her sweet, loving eyes seemed to 
 penetrate into his heart, their influence cooled and 
 calmed him. 
 
 " You are the best mother that ever lived," said 
 he aloud to the picture, "and I don't care who 
 knows it — nobody shall contradict it to me — or I'll 
 know the reason why. And I'll go and see you, 
 mother. I feel I want to see you, and get a good 
 motherly kiss from you. I am got too much of a 
 worldly fellow, and I don't seem to like myself 
 worldly. I would rather be as you made me, be- 
 fore I mar — before I went into the army, though 
 my brother officers are very good fellows, and I 
 like them all — I feel as if they were my brothers. 
 But, mother, don't you fear but that I will just 
 take a good step back to my old ways, and be your
 
 Three Wives. 195 
 
 own boy again. I was not made to be worldly, and 
 I don't like it P 
 
 Thus did the good Gaby talk to his mother, and 
 by degrees he talked himself into good humour 
 again. He put his mother, as he called the pic- 
 ture, back into her resting-place, solemnly vowing 
 to her he would go and see her before many days 
 were over, whatever happened, and get a good mo- 
 therly kiss from her. Then he dressed, and with 
 the usual serene and truthful look in his eyes, de- 
 scended to his daily duty of eating his dinner and 
 making himself agreeable to his neighbour. 
 
 Lady Rose, meanwhile, had consoled herself 
 with a book she had better have left alone. How- 
 ever, she considered she did herself no harm in 
 reading what she called exciting books. 
 
 " Nothing is likely to harm me," confided she to 
 Lady Audrey. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing, dear," answered Lady Audrey, 
 looking at her, with the look with which it is sup- 
 posed the spicier may have looked at the fly. 
 
 " I hate a goody book, don't you ?" 
 
 " It depends if the language is good," replied 
 Lady Audrey, who was, by way of being a little 
 blue, a little serious, and much of a critic. 
 
 " And what is the use of history ?" 
 
 2
 
 19 6 Three Wives. 
 
 " Ah ! well, 'tis interesting to read of our an- 
 cestors. People who have blood like the Silbor- 
 oughs, ought to know their family history." 
 
 " Certainly, if they did anything worth writing 
 about," retorted Lady Rose ; " my great-grand- 
 father was ennobled for being a hero." 
 
 " Of course, dear, heroes ought to be rewarded, 
 as we were on the plains of Normandy. Robert of 
 Normandy said " 
 
 "Thank you, Audrey, you have told me the 
 story before ; but we were speaking of books, I 
 think. I have a mind to write a book myself." 
 
 " Have you, dear — a novel, perhaps ?" 
 
 "Oh! dear no, novels are so common. I shall 
 write about bores, and being bored !" 
 
 Lady Audrey was touchy. She had also no 
 control over her temper. So the two ladies had a 
 quarrel ; but before the dressing-bell rang they 
 patched it up into a hollow peace. Each felt the 
 other might be of use to her, and it was imprudent 
 to quarrel about nothing. So they descended to 
 the dining-room, where was a country party assem- 
 bled, outwardly most loving, arm in arm. Lady 
 Audrey, usually ill-natured about giving Lady 
 Rose somebody nice to take her in to dinner, fore- 
 went this little pleasure, and sent her in with the
 
 Three Wives. 197 
 
 best man there ; but to soothe her conscience for 
 this piece of good-nature, Gaby was given, as his 
 companion, the fat wife of the Vicar. 
 
 But Gaby's mind was in that serene state, he 
 looked upon all motherly people with kindly eyes, 
 and was so beaming and good-natured — the fat 
 lady exerted herself with such effect to entertain 
 him — that not a pair at the dinner-table were so 
 merry. 
 
 Lady Rose soon found that her best man was so 
 extremely handsome, he could think of nothing 
 but himself; and after trying to extort a compli- 
 ment out of him in vain, she left him to the con- 
 templation of his own face in a spoon — a contempla- 
 tion that seldom gives a pleasant feeling to plainer 
 mortals. " But he was so beset with vanity," said 
 Lady Rose, " he preferred looking at himself dis- 
 torted, than looking at me, though I was exquisite- 
 ly dressed, and worth it." 
 
 So she became cross again, and after dinner, as 
 great people will sometimes do among little people, 
 she turned her back upon the company, put up 
 her feet, and proceeded to read the book she had 
 better have left alone — so wilful was this little 
 creature ! Plow was she to be u delivered from 
 evil" — the evil she courted and delighted in s
 
 198 Three Wives. 
 
 So the company went away, glad to dine at the 
 Castle, to have a first-rate dinner, and see some of 
 the great ones of the earth. But they entered 
 their own lesser homes very well satisfied with 
 themselves, thinking so much luxury now and 
 then a good thing, but doubtless extremely bad for 
 the digestion every day ; admiring all the beauti- 
 ful plate and china, but delighted not to have the 
 worry of caring for it all ; pleased with the dress 
 and jewels of the great ones of the earth, but 
 charmed to find their own manners were quite as 
 good, if not better. And they were very right to 
 be so contented and self-satisfied. But Lady Rose 
 went to bed in a worse humour than the humour 
 of the day, and poor Gaby perceived, by certain 
 infallible signs, that she would rise still more petu- 
 lant. And he hoped on this day she would be in 
 the sort of humour that he could tell her he had 
 made a vow to go and see his mother, and get a 
 good motherly kiss from her. 
 
 Gaby began to feel he was glad he had only 
 vowed this vow to a picture. He rose, and went 
 to his dressing-room : he felt ashamed of looking 
 at his dressing-case. Luckily everything he 
 wanted for his toilet was spread out for his use on 
 the table. Had he been obliged to go down to
 
 Three Wives, 199 
 
 breakfast with his hair uncombed, because his 
 comb was in the dressing-case, he would have done 
 it rather than open it. 
 
 Such were Gaby's feelings, when suddenly in 
 the inner room he heard a shriek. He could not 
 for the life of him tell what sort of shriek it was 
 — pain, pleasure, or anger. His Rosie was apt to 
 shriek upon any occasion. He thought it best to 
 wait until he heard another, as he might perhaps 
 understand its tone better. But a series of little 
 shrieks, all coming nearer and nearer, made him 
 stand stock still in the middle of his dressing- 
 room, his tie in his hand, just going to be adjusted. 
 Lady Rose rushed into the room, into his arms, 
 embraced him frantically, shrieked again, and in a 
 few minutes made him understand that something 
 had occurred of so charming and agreeable a na- 
 ture, she was in the seventh heaven of happiness. 
 She thrust a letter into his hand. 
 
 " There, you dear, stupid old thing, read that ! 
 — just what I should most like — just wdiat I was 
 dying for. I must rush up to London, and get 
 proper dresses. How Audrey will stare, and what 
 fun ! — she will be so vexed, cross creature ! I am 
 so glad ; she was so ill-natured yesterday, and 
 think of the letter being in her own hand-writing !
 
 200 Three Wive*. 
 
 My dear Gaby, I am wild with delight : but Sir- 
 ryll, Sirryll, instantly begin to pack up — we must 
 be off at once." 
 
 She rushed back to her room, and left Gaby to 
 read the letter : — 
 
 "Dear Lady Rose, — My lord begs I will 
 ask you and Captain Raby to come and take a 
 little cruise with him in his yacht, the ( Sylph.' 
 He thinks of going round Ireland, and he remem- 
 bers hearing you say you should like a cruise of 
 that sort. He starts on the 14th. I am prevent- 
 ed going by the still delicate state of our little boy ; 
 but he bids me tell you he has engaged one or two 
 other people to form a nice party. 
 
 " Pray believe me sincerely yours, 
 
 " Elizabeth Silborough." 
 
 " Stiff, old-maidish letter, isn't it, Gaby, but 
 everything to me," said Lady Rose, as she kept 
 flying in and out of the room. 
 
 " I'll tell you what, Rosie," said Gaby, with his 
 hand on his dressing-case ; " he doesn't start until 
 the 14th, so while you are in London, getting your 
 things, I will run down and see my mother." 
 
 " Do, dear, and get her blessing, lest you should 
 be drowned."
 
 201 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " The bridegroom sea 
 Is toying wdth the shore, his wedded bride, 
 And in the fulness of his marriage joy 
 He decorates her tawny brow with shells, 
 Retires a pace, to see how fair she looks, 
 Then, proud, runs up to kiss her." 
 
 A. Smith. 
 
 T)ADIANT with happiness, conscious that no- 
 - L * ; thing was ever seen so becoming or so new 
 as her yachting-dress (not even the sister's), with a 
 box full of the prettiest nautical hats, Lady Rose 
 found herself at Torquay, on the 12th of Septem- 
 ber, the guest of Lord and Lady Silborough. Her 
 good Gaby, equally radiant and happy, joined her 
 there, his filial heart thoroughly satisfied with 
 motherly kisses, and his paternal feelings im- 
 mensely gratified by leaving his pretty little boy at 
 Raby Hall as his substitute. Altogether they 
 were both of them prepared for any amount of 
 enjoyment — Lady Rose's centering on herself, and 
 the good Gaby's through her.
 
 202 Three Wives. 
 
 Nevertheless, Lady Rose experienced a shock, 
 and it was unconsciously inflicted by the gentle 
 Lady Sil borough. As she welcomed her guest 
 into her house, Lady Rose, keenly alive to such 
 things, was greatly struck with the vast improve- 
 ment in Lady Silborough's manner and expression. 
 Though never awkward, or otherwise than grace- 
 ful, there had been in the shy, reserved girl a cer- 
 tain girlishness and simplicity that made her seem 
 only just out of the school-room. 
 
 In the beautiful, refined creature who welcomed 
 her with such warmth, yet with so much grace, 
 Lady Rose saw a being whom she could never 
 hope to rival. The daintiness of the yachting- 
 dress, the coquetry of the nautical hats, the re- 
 membrance of any and every of the most be- 
 coming dresses she had ever worn, were all useless, 
 as Lady Rose felt, to enter into the lists against 
 Lady Silborough, in a white muslin dress, with a 
 blue ribbon in her hair. From whence arose this 
 superiority ? 
 
 Lady Rose took her to pieces in her mind. She 
 compared her with herself, feature by feature, air, 
 complexion, and figure. Knowing it was useless 
 to lie to herself, she strove to be honest in her 
 judgment, and perhaps was so. As regarded out-
 
 Three Wives. 203 
 
 ward perfection, she was right in thinking there 
 was not much to choose between them, excepting 
 that there was a delicacy in the complexion of 
 Lady Silborough wanting in Lady Rose. Bat the 
 latter attributed this, and not without reason, to 
 her having borne the wear and tear of the London 
 season ; whereas Lady Silborough had been living 
 an Arcadian life among roses and lilies, with not 
 a care to speak of. For Lady Rose's mind was 
 incapable of understanding the remorse from which 
 the gentle Elizabeth was only just recovering. 
 
 " Gaby, did you ever see a woman so improved 
 as Lady Silborough !" 
 
 " Rosie, I stare and look at her with the great- 
 est amazement. All London will be raving about 
 her next year if she only looks half as well then 
 as she does now." 
 
 " Don't be a goose, Gaby ; it is only two years 
 ago since you told me I was infinitely her superior. 
 They say all girls improve after marriage. Ac- 
 cording to that, I ought to have improved too." 
 
 Lady Rose was too well acquainted with her 
 own face not to know she was the reverse of being 
 improved. Still, it was Gaby's duty, and her ex- 
 pectation, that he should vehemently assure her she 
 was.
 
 201 Three Wives. 
 
 Gaby hesitated. With Lady Silborougb's pure 
 and beautiful face rising before his mental vision, 
 how could he say the little pettish, hardened coun- 
 tenance of his darling Rosie could be compared with 
 it? u I tell you what it is, Rose," said he, willing 
 and eager to compromise, u it is not her features 
 or complexion, it is her expression that improves 
 her so much. She is so much more animated and 
 lively, and altogether at ease with one." 
 
 " I believe, Gaby, for once in your life you are 
 right. I remember telling mamma, if Lady Eliza- 
 beth only knew how beautiful she looked when she 
 smiled, she would be always doing it. Yes, that's 
 just it — she has found out the improvement it is to 
 her, and so she is beginning always to do it." 
 
 " Not always, Rose — she has her old grave face 
 at times. But did you see her when that sick boy 
 came in? — Lord! how delighted my mother would 
 have been. When he laid his head on her shoul- 
 der, and looked up with those wonderful eyes, and 
 she looked down on him, I felt, Rosie — I felt, if I 
 had been Lord Silborough, I must have clasped 
 both in my arms and given them a good hugging." 
 
 " Don't be vulgar, Gaby — luckily Lord Sii- 
 boroua;h has more sense." 
 
 " He may have more sense, but I don't envy him
 
 Three Wives. 205 
 
 any of it, if be did not feel as I felt. And when 
 she gave the little baby into the boy's arms, Lord, 
 how I did wish I was a painter !" 
 
 " Do hold your foolish tongue. Do you know 
 I have had a letter from mamma V 
 
 " I am very glad of it, Rosie. I thought you 
 would. I went to Alwyn for a day, just to tell 
 them the news." 
 
 " How dare you do so, without my leave !" 
 
 " I knew your father would be delighted to hear 
 we were with the Silboroughs themselves — they 
 have no opinion of the Buckhursts." 
 
 " Then, if it is any satisfaction to you, they 
 are pleased; but do you know we were in immi- 
 nent danger of having the Buckhursts with us in 
 the yacht f 
 
 " Nonsense ! How came we out of that mess ?" 
 
 " Lord Silborough kindly thought I should not 
 like to be the only lady, and so, knowing we were 
 such friends (think of his mistake, Gaby !), he in- 
 vited them to come with us. However, Lady 
 Audrey is of much too bilious a habit (being all 
 bile, I should say) to venture on the sea. So she 
 refused. I told Lord Sil I would much rather 
 have no one, if I could not have Lady Sil borough ; 
 which he took as a compliment, confiding to me
 
 206 Three Wives. 
 
 how much he regretted that she refused to come. 
 < She has taken it into her head,' he said, 'that 
 Nugent's illness was in a great measure owing to 
 her neglect, which is quite absurd. We are all 
 rather to blame than she. But she is very deter- 
 mined, and appeared to feel a separation so much, 
 I could do no less than consent to let her stay with 
 him.' I could have told him, Gaby, that obstinacy 
 was her chief characteristic." 
 
 " I wish, then, that everybody was obstinate." 
 
 " Me in particular, I presume?" 
 
 " Well, Rose, if obstinacy is Lady Silborough's 
 characteristic, you cannot have too much of it, to 
 please me !" 
 
 " You Gaby? I shall be jealous." ' 
 
 " You are welcome. She is one of those women 
 of whom no man could dare to think with levity. 
 'Tis a man's duty to adore such a woman as a saint. 
 Lord, Rose, what a sensation she will make in 
 London next year !" 
 
 " I bet you anything she won't go down at all. 
 Besides, she is going to turn into a motherly 
 mother, and you know what the town thinks of 
 them." 
 
 " I am thinking she will set the fashion of 
 motherlv mothers."
 
 Three Wives. 207 
 
 " And make all the husbands mad. I feel sure. 
 
 if I was only wicked enough, I could soon make 
 Lord Silborough disgusted with your saint, forsak- 
 ing his company for that of the ugliest little brat 
 I ever saw." 
 
 " Luckily my Rose has no wickedness in her !" 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know what I may do to win my 
 bet. At all events, Gaby, I won't submit to play- 
 ing second fiddle next year. I must do something 
 to keep my place either before, or by your saint !" 
 
 "I don't know what you mean, Rose, by second 
 fiddle, but I should try a different line altogether, 
 if I was you." 
 
 " Oh ! you would, would you ? Perhaps you 
 will favour me with your ideas on the subject — or, 
 what is more to the purpose, lots of money to carry 
 out my own ideas." 
 
 " Well, Rose, I really hope to do that. My 
 father was pleased that we did not launch out last 
 year, and has increased my allowance. Besides, 
 my godfather has given me a thousand pounds, and 
 I think to put it by to educate the boy, who has 
 grown such a beauty, with eyes the very image of 
 yours !" 
 
 " Educate the boy! I like that. Tis your 
 father's business to do that ! Oh ! my dear Gaby,
 
 203 Three Wives. 
 
 how delightful! With heaps of money one can do 
 anything. It shall be my own fault if anyone is 
 more admired or more sought after than Lady Rose 
 Raby !" 
 
 With such happy anticipations for the future, 
 and such vast enjoyment for the present, Lady 
 Rose Raby set forth on her voyage. Besides her 
 attentive and excellent Gaby, with her kind and 
 courteous host, Lord Silborough, there were two 
 other what she was pleased to term " proper men," 
 whose names, according to the fashion of the times, 
 were " Doodleums " and " Baby." Doodleums was 
 the gentlest, most amiable of men. Handsome, 
 quiet, meditative, he was always ready to do any- 
 thing, and especially to talk books. Baby was, of 
 course, six feet six, or thereabouts, and, if possible, 
 more quiet, meditative, and reflective than Doodle- 
 ums. In fact, they were a delightful pair for a 
 yacht voyage. Always ready for small, nice talk, 
 always at hand to take a turn at anything, and 
 perfect gentlemen from their hair to their heels. 
 Perhaps Baby was a little too big for a yacht. 
 
 " When you walk about on deck," laughed Lady 
 Rose, " I am afraid it will split ; you will go 
 through, and the yacht be swamped." 
 
 "I will swim with it on my arm," murmured
 
 Three Wives. 209 
 
 Baby through his leonine moustache, " until we 
 get to port." And really he looked as if he could 
 do it. 
 
 And now the good Gaby led a most enjoyable 
 life. His Eosie was one of those dear creatures 
 who preferred having the services of any man to 
 
 those of her husband ; and as Baby and Doodleums 
 
 < *■ 
 
 had not much to do, it gave them infinite pleasure 
 to amuse her. Moreover, Lord Silborough, when 
 not in important consultation with his Captain, 
 always sought her lively and amusing society. So 
 Gaby delivered himself over to a lazy and indo- 
 lent life, such as he had not experienced since his 
 marriage. He only exerted himself to eat and 
 drink, the sea giving him, as he said, an extra- 
 ordinary appetite. And it is not to be denied 
 that sometimes the sea air had such an effect upon 
 him, this innocent lover of his mother's kisses had 
 some difficulty in getting into his berth. The sea 
 was pretty calm, and the yacht very steady ; but 
 Gaby's sea legs after dinner excited the liveliest 
 concern in the minds of his friends, insomuch that 
 Baby more than once took him up by the collar 
 of his coat, and deposited him gently and tenderly 
 in his berth. Thus Gaby laid himself open to a 
 serious charge ; and Lady Kose, with tears in her 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 Three Wives, 
 
 lovely eyes, apologized to Lord Silborough, assur- 
 ing him that her poor Gaby had so weak a head, 
 she wondered at nothing. 
 
 Doodleums and Baby took a magnificent view 
 of the matter, ignoring it altogether. Lady Rose 
 also gave them tears and apologies. They imputed 
 the tears to a feeling of sea-sickness, which they 
 understood was a disease almost beyond man's bear- 
 ing, much less woman's. And they accepted her 
 apologies as a joke, at which they were to laugh. 
 When Baby laughed he always did it on deck, lest 
 he should blow up the cabin. 
 
 To one so capable of judging her fellow-mortals, 
 it was not unnatural for Lady Rose to be much 
 struck with the fine brotherly feeling that charac- 
 terised her fellow-voyagers. 
 
 "Now, if we had been four women instead of 
 men, how we should have quarrelled !" thought she. 
 But that did not so much surprise the little flirting 
 thing, who had a very bad opinion of her own sex, 
 as did their behaviour to herself. She liked to 
 think she had a certain power over men ; and, 
 boxed up with four, and no other lady to rival 
 her, of course she could do what she liked with 
 them, and, if the truth must be told, that liking 
 was to torment them a little.
 
 Three Wives. 211 
 
 Now, though they were most obedient and un- 
 tiringly devoted, she saw she owed this to their chi- 
 valry to the sex, and not to her charms as a wo- 
 man. Moreover, any little joke or fun, or that sort 
 of familiar intercourse which living in a yacht 
 engenders, was entered into by them con amore, if 
 Gaby was present. But when poor Gaby's sea- 
 legs failed, it was quite curious to see the sort of 
 gentle deference and ceremony with which they 
 treated her. No laughing or joking. If Gaby 
 was conscious instead of unconscious, he would 
 have found his little fast Rose yawning in the 
 company of these sedate, serious men. In vain 
 she tried a good many arts — in vain she was quiet, 
 lively, tender, cross, nervous, and bold, all in turns ; 
 nothing altered their apparently fixed determination 
 to regard Gaby's little flirting Rose as Gaby's most 
 darling wife. 
 
 Now, though Lady Rose could not help admir- 
 ing this in them, yet somehow it annoyed her. 
 She had such a passion for power and influence. 
 She wanted to see Baby at her feet, supplicating 
 but the leaf of a rose from her hand, that she 
 might have the delight of withering the monstrous 
 giant by merely a look. And she had an ardent 
 longing to make Doodleums forget his thorough- 
 ly 2
 
 212 Three Wives. 
 
 bred demeanour, treating her as a little queen, 
 irresistibly impelled to tremble before her, as a 
 lovely woman. Whether they either of them had 
 the least inclination to please her in these two 
 fancies is one of those things that never will be 
 known. It is sufficient that, during the five weeks 
 they were cruising about, they never showed the 
 slightest sign of doing either. 
 
 As for Lord Silborough, it is not to be denied 
 he was fond of the society of pretty women. 
 "Without caring much about it, he knew that Lady 
 Hose had once cared for him. This gave him a 
 sort of interest in her, such as one has when one 
 hears that some one has spoken well of one behind 
 one's back. Moreover, he considered that he was 
 a little answerable for the melancholy fact that 
 Lady Rose had thrown herself away on a fool. 
 
 Poor Gaby ! he was one of those creatures who 
 are either abhorred or much petted by men. 
 
 Lord Silborough abhorred him as a fool who 
 cared for nothing but eating and drinking, and 
 who, if he did speak, generally said the last thing he 
 ought to have done. While Baby and Doodleums 
 regarded all his little wavs with tender indulgence, 
 Lord Silborough had no patience with him, and it 
 thus happened that he took an increased interest in
 
 Three Wives. 213 
 
 Lady Rose, because he pitied her. Thus, men in 
 his position not having that control over them- 
 selves that lesser creatures are obliged to cultivate, 
 it somehow oozed out of him that he did so. Al- 
 ways ready to swallow anything regarding herself, 
 Lady Rose deeply felt his kindness, in interesting 
 himself in her forlorn fate, and confided to him 
 the fear that had so lately oppressed her — namely, 
 that she had married too soon. 
 
 "I was so inexperienced, Lord Silborough, 
 scarce knowing my own mind — that is, I did a little ; 
 but, then, what I did feel was impossible. So I 
 thought it best to obey mamma, and get out of the 
 way of my sisters as soon as I could. Though 
 Adelaide is not married yet, or likely to be." 
 
 " It is doubtless a sad mistake to marry too soon. 
 I began to feel that in my first marriage, though 
 of course, dear Lady Rose, I rely upon your confi- 
 dence never to divulge this. In fact, I only men- 
 tion it, just to show why I was so careful in select- 
 ing my second wife." 
 
 " She certainly seems admirably suited to your 
 poor, dear little boy." 
 
 " So very tender-hearted," answered Lord Sil- 
 borough, not knowing whether to be angry with 
 Lady Rose or his wife at this speech.
 
 214 Three Wives, 
 
 u And I did not think she had any heart at 
 all, when I first knew her. When it was hinted 
 that she had made a conquest of you, she was ready 
 to cry with horror.'' 
 
 " I think you must be mistaken — it must have 
 been some other person," he replied coldly. 
 
 " Perhaps so," answered Lady Rose, seeing she 
 had gone too far; "I only thought it was you, be- 
 cause I — that is — there were so many girls ready 
 to jump at what she appeared to despise." 
 
 " Despise is too strong a word, Lady Rose. In 
 fact, you mistake Lady Silborough's character al- 
 together. The fault I find with it is, that she is 
 too humble. She does not give herself credit for 
 what she is, and that is, one of the most feminine, 
 refined persons I ever saw. She is the true type 
 of the real gentlewoman." 
 
 Lady Rose, by nature, was indifferent to any 
 praise that was not accorded to herself, and had a 
 sort of repugnance to it, if it was spoken of an- 
 other woman — so she changed the conversation by 
 saying, " How I pity people who are ignorant of 
 the luxury and beauty of a night at sea ! You do not 
 know, Lord Silborough, what life and health this 
 little trip has given me. Only one drawback — only 
 one !"
 
 Three Wives, 215 
 
 And she glanced at her Gaby, peacefully 
 snoring the sleep of the placid, the moonbeams 
 playing sad havoc with the beauty of his features. 
 
 Lord Silborough looked at him without taking 
 any pains to conceal his disgust. And yet, after 
 all, apart from this one little propensity that Gaby 
 had now, for the first time in his life, indulged in, 
 moved to do so by having no wiser mode of show- 
 ing his happiness, was Lord Silborough, in the 
 sight of God, a better man 1 
 
 It is true, Gaby had not gone through so much 
 of the ordeal of riches, pomp, or state — he had not 
 been bowed down to from infancy — and all self- 
 knowledge stifled from the fact that none was re- 
 quired ; he was presumed perfect. But Lord Sil- 
 borough was not much wiser than poor Gaby ; for, 
 with a certain knowledge of the world, he had yet 
 taken no pains to consider his own place in it — 
 apart from the accident of rank and station. He 
 was not prepared with any strength or reason to re- 
 sist a drifting to good or bad, as they might happen 
 to be presented to him. The enthusiasm or warmth 
 of goodness, of the divine feeling of gratitude, of 
 the charms of nature, of the unspeakable wealth of 
 love, had never been felt by him, in the manner 
 they usually present themselves to men, because he
 
 216 Three Wives. 
 
 had never struggled, fought, conquered, won them, 
 by the force of his own will. Everything seemed 
 to be there in the palm of his hand. So he was 
 but an ordinary man, who, at present, having tast- 
 ed every blessing of life, was just arriving at the 
 conclusion of poor Gaby, that the greatest event 
 of the day was eating one's dinner.
 
 217 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Every morrow, we are wreathing 
 A flowery band to bind us to the earth, 
 Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth 
 Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, 
 Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways 
 Made for our searching ; yes, spite of all, 
 Some shape of Beauty moves away the pall 
 From our dark spirits." 
 
 Keats. 
 
 A ND yet Lord Silborough was continually 
 sCf? thinking, with a real thrill of pleasure, of 
 the circumstance that, after having kissed his wife 
 and his children, bidding them all farewell with 
 infinite good feeling on his part, his beautiful 
 Elizabeth, just plucking at his sleeve, drew him a 
 moment aside, and laying her soft cheek to his, 
 whispered, " Think of me often, Harry." 
 
 His heart was beginning to stir a little out of 
 Silborough pomp and grandeur, and it was abso- 
 lutely this sensation, excited by his wife's parting
 
 218 Three Wives. 
 
 words, that made him take the trouble to be trou- 
 bled at Lady Rose's sad fate in having married a 
 fool. He did think of his wife very often, recall- 
 ing with pleasure the soft pathos with which she 
 pronounced the word " Harry." He had a sort 
 of feeling that it was sweeter than any music, and 
 that he longed to hear it again. Yet, acknow- 
 ledging this, he was uncertain whether he was not 
 more angry that his wishes could not be fulfilled, 
 than pleased that he had felt the gratification. 
 
 In this uncertain state of mind, he was ready to 
 be biassed either way ; and, of course, in their 
 present intimate situation, it did not take Lady 
 Rose very long to find this out. 
 
 Meantime, Lady Silborough, if she felt for the 
 moment a youthful longing to be one of the party 
 of pleasure, soon forgot it in the delight of wit- 
 nessing Nugent's daily improvement both in health 
 and mind. Having her whom he now fondly 
 called his " Mumsey " to himself, appeared to have 
 the happiest effect upon his odd little brain, and 
 the pleasure he took in everything regarding his 
 baby sister, with whose birth he appeared to asso- 
 ciate some great and important good to himself, 
 was unceasing and untiring. 
 
 u He never now," wrote Elizabeth to her grand-
 
 Three Wives. 219 
 
 mother, " alludes to odd books, or the wish to be 
 clever. He is becoming, what he ought always to 
 have been, a complete child, and this, I am as- 
 sured, is a very favourable sign. He does not 
 willingly permit me out of his sight, though all 
 fear of Andrews seems completely banished from 
 his mind. I am astonished, dear grandmamma, at 
 not feeling dull, with only a child and a baby for 
 my companions. I longed to be able to go this 
 pleasure trip in the yacht. It seemed to me to be 
 so happy a thing to see new places, and take in 
 new ideas, accompanied by one's husband. For I 
 find myself, dear grandmamma, looking to his 
 company — his kind love — for all my pleasures; they 
 are not complete without him. Either I am so 
 happy to be fulfilling your wishes, exerting my- 
 self to deserve his love, and reaping my own re- 
 ward in so doing, or our little darlings prove the 
 bond by which I know his happiness is so inter- 
 linked with mine, they can never again be sepa- 
 rated. This gives me some idea of the real mean- 
 ing of ' bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh/ and 
 the indissoluble nature of the bond of matrimony. 
 Oh ! grandmamma, what a fearful thing to enter 
 into this compact lightly, without due regard to the 
 awful consequences of a mistake ! — taking a vow
 
 220 Three Wives. 
 
 to incorporate your nature into that of another, be- 
 fore testing if it is one you can esteem and love. 
 It makes one shudder to think that there must be, 
 in the heedless marriages made now-a-days, a 
 couple who go about chained to so adverse a na- 
 ture, it might seem to them as one dead manacled 
 to one living ! But why do I give you my crude 
 ideas upon what you know so much better than 
 myself ? I will return to the subject of the chil- 
 dren. I find them most companionable. Even 
 the little baby grows so interesting — every day 
 some opening intelligence, that both Nugent and 
 1 hail as a new pleasure. I think I see in her an 
 antitype of myself; every day some new idea 
 opens my mind, and I have lost all regret as to 
 going in the yacht. I am so in love with this 
 quiets still life, and with the thoughts that 
 throng so quickly to my mind. I am Nugent's 
 governess, and feel more and more grateful to you 
 and Miss Cheverill for the kind care you bestowed 
 on my education. And it is most pleasant to me 
 to recall it all, exercising my memory as to how 
 much I have lost. I think my little daughter 
 shall have no other instructor than her mother for 
 the first few years of her education. It seems to 
 me so important that the first lessons should be
 
 Three Wives. 221 
 
 given with love, unspeakable patience, and the 
 gentlest but most resolute firmness. Are you not 
 of my mind ? Can a governess have the love and 
 patience of a mother ? What love it is ! Dear 
 grandmamma, I gaze on my children until abso- 
 lutely tears of inexpressible rapture fill my heart, I 
 feel so blest — so crowned with honour that I have 
 such gifts as a charge. I watch with extreme inter- 
 est a hen with a brood of chickens, that is kept in 
 a yard over which my bed-room window looks. Her 
 vigilance, her joyful cries, her untiring watchfulness 
 for her numerous brood, excite my wannest sym- 
 pathy. I think to myself, I will not be outdone by 
 you, O fond feathered mother, and what is more, 
 I will not cast off my brood, as you must do, when 
 nature points out they can shift for themselves, and 
 you 3 O hen, are already thinking of another hatch. 
 It seems to me, dear grandmamma, that my little 
 chickens will require my help, my love, my vigilance 
 just as they are launching out into the world, flown 
 from the parent nest, more than ever. Tell me if 
 I am right. Now I will conclude this long letter 
 by the description of a little scene just enacted 
 between me and my children, to prove to you how 
 ampty I am repaid for resisting the inclination to 
 go in the yacht. Baby is in her cot, aud Nugent
 
 222 Three Wives. 
 
 is amusing her while I write this letter. Nurse 
 has almost a sinecure, as I never care to be without 
 them. Nugent asks baby whom she loves most. 
 She almost seems to understand the question, for 
 she crows and laughs and clutches hold of his hair. 
 * She loves me, mumsey,' sa} T s Nugent. 6 Nay,' I 
 replied, feigning a little pet, ' she does not see me.' 
 'Come, then, mumsey, on the other side, and let 
 us see which she loves.' As baby sees my face, she 
 crows and laughs more than ever ; she is ready to 
 spring out of her cot for happiness, but, as Nugent 
 remarks, ' she still clutches my hair, mumsey.' 
 So I loosen mine dow T n, baby stops her crowing 
 and looks wonderingly, then she grasps it in her 
 hand, and in baby play pats it all over Nugent's 
 face. ' Ah ! mumsey, what a wise baby ! She 
 loves us both just the same, and that is quite the 
 right thing.' Innocent amusement, dearest grand- 
 mother, but oh ! so pleasant to- the still childish 
 heart of your loving Elizabeth." 
 
 Lady Ellerton's reply was somewhat grave, and 
 caused the loving Elizabeth to ponder over it a 
 little anxiously. The parts that gave her this 
 anxiety arose from Lady Ellerton's fear that in the 
 delight and innocent happiness of her children's
 
 Three Wives. 223 
 
 society, Elizabeth might again take refuge from a 
 world whose pleasures did not seem so to her, and 
 whose duties grew more and more repugnant, from 
 their absolute incongruity with those of her domes- 
 tic home. 
 
 " But for your fears regarding Nugent's health, 
 I should have said that it was your duty, as well as 
 it would have been your pleasure, to accompany 
 your husband. I should evenhave risked taking Nu- 
 gent, rather than let him go without you, especially 
 as I hear Lady Rose Raby is one of the party. 
 Do not for a moment suppose that I pay either 
 you or your husband so bad a compliment as to 
 imagine there is danger of a kind. I will not 
 mention, as you will not, I am certain, conjecture ; 
 but there is danger of a lesser kind, namely, that, 
 living on such intimate terms as people must do on 
 board a vessel, people are very apt to get into the 
 habit of agreeing with and adopting the same 
 thoughts as those who are their close companions. 
 It might very naturally happen that so frivolous 
 and vain a character as Lady Rose's would improve, 
 with no one of her own sex to encourage her in her 
 follies. But my opinion is, that out of deference they 
 will allow her to give the tone to conversation, and 
 to be the arranger of all their plans, and it is marvel-
 
 224 Three Wives. 
 
 lous how a person of her disposition gradually infects 
 her companions with her own thoughts and frivoli- 
 ties. Now, a woman's endeavour should be to use 
 her influence to exalt the imagination and minds of 
 the other sex; and in doing so she ennobles her own. 
 There are many ways of doing this, but I fear not 
 one that I can hope Lady Rose will use. I know 
 her father has been painfully anxious about her 
 career, and has seen with extreme displeasure her 
 intimacy with certain fashionable persons in the 
 London world, whose elevation to such notoriety is 
 one of the misfortunes and disgraces of the age. 
 He is a man for whom I have the highest esteem, 
 and I may mention to you in confidence, he is one 
 of those whom you describe as being so ungeni- 
 ally married as to seem to have a dead body, or 
 nature, tied to his living one. If Lady Rose 
 ends, as her present mode of going on leads one 
 to fear she will, Lord Alwyn will have the inexpres- 
 sible anguish of feeling that the mother he gave 
 her is the cause. Can you not conceive how such 
 a thought must weigh upon the mind of an affec- 
 tionate father and a high-minded man ? I am, I 
 fear, wrong to anticipate evil. I ought rather to 
 remember that Merciful Power who may in good 
 time ' deliver her from evil.' Will my Elizabeth
 
 Three Wives. 225 
 
 think her grandmother captious and rather hard 
 to please if she gives her still another warning? 
 There is scarcely a man in the world who can 
 bear to find a rival in his children, of their mother's 
 affection and care. I have known many instances 
 of vain regret — one, my dear friend, the Duchess 
 of Stradarven, who lived to deplore an over-indul- 
 gence in the sweet and delicious pleasure of de- 
 voting oneself to one's children. In my days, and 
 hers, of childhood, we had a vivid remembrance 
 of the utter absence of anything like affection be- 
 tween us and our parents. We did obeisance to 
 them as slaves to monarch s ; we were not allowed 
 to sit in their presence, or to express a single wish 
 or longing of our childish hearts. In fact, we 
 dared not speak unless spoken to. She was higher- 
 spirited than myself, and of so proud and haughty 
 a nature, she did not, as I did, outpour her affec- 
 tions on humble companions, or pets, or fancy 
 work, or reading again and again the few books 
 she could call her own. She brooded over and 
 chafed at the loneliness of her position, debarred 
 intercourse with her parents, and too proud to put 
 up with any lower. Thus, on her marriage, she 
 rushed into the opposite extreme, and became one 
 of the first of those mothers whom you now meet 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 Three Wives. 
 
 everywhere, and who think no other duty in the 
 world belongs to them but that of mother. The 
 Duke struggled for some time against her infatua- 
 tion, for such it was. Her children always slept 
 in her room ; she rose up in the early morning to 
 attend to them herself ; she was their governess, 
 and, in being so, unfortunately the tenderness of 
 the mother was lost and forgotten in the duties of 
 the teacher. Thus they grew up without that af- 
 fection her care and love deserved — the sacredness 
 of the name of mother was lost in those of task- 
 master and chastiser. There was no love to which 
 to appeal on occasions when mercy and love would 
 have softened the little wayward hearts. She de- 
 prived herself of her highest motherly prerogative, 
 namely, the power to bind her children's hearts to 
 her by the inexpressible privilege of mercy and 
 love. You once noticed to me a sort of sad trist- 
 fulness in her eyes, and wondered at the feelings 
 that caused the look in one so honoured, so be- 
 loved, so courted as she is. It is, I fear, Eliza- 
 beth, the remembrance that if ever there was a bad 
 man, it was her husband ; and yet his character 
 was originally infirm, not wicked. She might have 
 made him anything. And, of all her children, there 
 is not one left alive, nor was there one who, when
 
 Three Wives. 227 
 
 living, was a comfort or honour to her ! This is 
 an extreme case — it can rarely happen again ; but 
 it does not lessen her remorse. As far as we can 
 judge, she has repaired all her mistakes in regard 
 to her grandson, who is now coming home from a 
 long sojourn abroad, and of whom I hear, even 
 from herself, that she hopes, with God's blessing, 
 he will restore the name of Stradarven to the state 
 it was in when she took it. To have wasted so 
 much of life, of energy, of the holiness of duty, for 
 such sad results, has ever seemed to me one of the 
 hardest punishments God can inflict upon an err- 
 ing mortal — the motive so pure and good, the exe- 
 cution so resolute and unselfish. And yet per- 
 haps not unselfish, for she omitted all other duty 
 for this one. And there was also, methinks, 
 somewhat of impiety in her efforts — she would be 
 God to her children as well as mother. If this 
 was her sin, she has amply atoned for it. Few 
 know the form and manner of her repentance : 
 but all those unceasing and untiring energies that 
 she devoted to her children, are now spent in the 
 duties she so long forgot. There is not a social 
 duty belonging to her rank that she is not ready 
 to perform. There is not a charity in London 
 that is not as much benefited by her wisdom and 
 
 Q2
 
 228 Three Wives. 
 
 her care as by her gifts. Oh ! my dear Eliza- 
 beth, shall I confide to you her and my wish ? 
 It is that you may take her place in London so- 
 ciety. Conspicuous in the highest ranks, you will, 
 as she does, purify it by the power of goodness and 
 the lustre of virtue ; mixing in all its pleasures, 
 its duties, its charities, you will be regarded by all 
 thinking men as the model from which they will 
 choose their wives. And prove to women what a 
 gigantic power they hold in their hands if they 
 have the good taste and sense to imitate your ex- 
 ample. May your present quiet time, my darling, 
 be employed in making yourself fit for this noble 
 duty, prays your loving Grandmother."
 
 229 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 " Envy detects the spots in the clear orb of night, 
 And Love, the little stars on the gloomiest night." 
 
 R. C. French. 
 
 T ADY SILBOROUGH'S heart was as yet too 
 -^ timid and apprehensive to be warmed up into 
 that state of high resolve and nobility of soul that 
 would qualify her to fulfil her grandmother's hopes. 
 The very greatness of the idea made her shrink 
 from the position. And it was not unnatural. 
 There is a certain sort of repose in great charac- 
 ters — they seem almost in ignorance themselves of 
 what they can do, until the moment has come for 
 them to act. To prepare for the various virtues of 
 fortitude, forbearance, and self-abnegation, robs 
 them at once of their halo. 
 
 At present the gentle Elizabeth felt that per- 
 haps some forty years hence, when she had been 
 proved, when the faults she felt she must com- 
 mit, as her birthright, had been repaired and 
 forsaken, when her work and inclination no longer
 
 230 Three Wives. 
 
 pulled different ways, that she might then, from the 
 calm height of quiet, resting old age, feel ready to 
 be a guide — a beacon. 
 
 That there was some truth in her grandmother's 
 caution, not to suffer a passion of zeal to hurry her 
 into any extravagance of action, smote the heart of 
 Elizabeth as a warning she must not neglect. Al- 
 ready she had surprised herself by the fervour and 
 eagerness she was ready to throw into any duty ; 
 and when that duty was united to love, the sweet 
 pure love of a mother, she understood at once how 
 quickly and overwhelmingly it would possess her. 
 
 As she passed day after day with no other society 
 than her children's, she was not without many a 
 wish that if only her " Harry " could think as she 
 did, they need never stir out into the mad, bustling, 
 changing, selfish world, in search of pleasure. She 
 had a strong fit of this feeling when she returned 
 home to Silborough Castle, as it was settled she 
 should do, in time to receive the yacht-party there. 
 For she was given a dose of the world's selfishness 
 and deceit, on the very threshold, by Lady Audrey. 
 Elizabeth had written home to say she was coming, 
 and, to avoid any shock to Nugent, had directed 
 that the room next her own, generally used by her 
 as a sitting-room, should be prepared as his nursery.
 
 Three Wives. 231 
 
 " It might, my clear Audrey, have a bad effect on 
 him if he lived again in the rooms where he en- 
 dured so much misery." 
 
 On arriving at Silborough, she found no notice 
 had been taken of this request, for the rooms were 
 unaltered. But conceiving there must be some 
 mistake, she desired it to be remedied at once, and 
 leaving Nugent in his sister's nursery, went to ask 
 Lady Audrey the reason. That lady had not told 
 her husband of these orders, and as he was present, 
 and she knew he would be extremely angry with 
 her, no resource w r as left her but to say, 
 
 " Oh ! I never had the letter." 
 
 " That is provoking," returned Elizabeth, calmly, 
 and believing her. " I gave the order in the same 
 letter I asked you to send the carriage to meet us." 
 
 The astute husband perceived at once what the 
 simple Elizabeth had not questioned. And to show 
 his wife she should not trifle with him, said at once, 
 
 "Say you forgot it, Audrey; because, of course, 
 if the same letter carried the one order, it brought 
 the other. But be at ease, Elizabeth, I will go at 
 once and see your wishes carried out." 
 
 " I suppose I shall have no peace now you have 
 come home," said Lady Audrey, sullenly, after her 
 husband had left the room.
 
 232 Three Wives. 
 
 " Why do you think so? — and why did you not 
 think with me of what was best for Nugent V 
 
 " Because I never can agree with you. It seems 
 to me as if you thought exactly contrary to what 
 everybody else does. It was much more proper 
 that Nugent shoud become accustomed to whatever 
 you suppose was disagreeable." 
 
 " There is no need that he should ; besides, for 
 some time, everything like a shock or annoyance 
 must be avoided." 
 
 " You will see, when Sil comes home, he will be 
 extremely annoyed. He had that room purposely 
 fitted up for you." 
 
 " I had forgotten that. I will go and arrange 
 some other plan." 
 
 But the company of Lady Audrey and her 
 husband by no means helped Lady Silborough to 
 regret the innocent company of her children the 
 less, though he was assiduous in repairing all his 
 wife's ill-nature. And they passed a very uncom- 
 fortable week together, when it was ended by the 
 arrival of the yachting party. 
 
 Only Lady Rose and her husband returned 
 with Lord Silborough, when she and Lady Audrey 
 again rushed into all the delights, whisperings, and 
 conferences common to bosom friends.
 
 Three Wives. 233 
 
 " My dear Audrey, I have enjoyed myself im- 
 mensely, but I do wish you had been of the party. 
 Baby and Doodleums are most excellent creatures, 
 but so proper — really I had scarcely a bit of 
 fun with them the whole time. In fact, I do 
 not know what I should have done but for 
 Lord Sil ; though he, poor dear, got a little dull 
 at last. He absolutely was home-sick, or wife- 
 sick. Fancy what he confided to me one evening — 
 when he was rather spoonily inclined — that the 
 prim Elizabeth, when they are alone, calls him 
 f Harry ' — think of that, my dear creature ! — that 
 is, that she is beginning to call him Harry. Don't 
 you long to hear her f like this — Ha-r-ry. A little 
 frightened at being so fond." 
 
 " Rose, how you make me laugh ! Really it is 
 quite pleasant to have something lively in the 
 house. We have been most awkward in our tem- 
 pers, my dear." 
 
 " You don't say so ! What a bore for you ! 
 You will have to turn out, won't you f " 
 
 " No, indeed ; I have not devoted myself to Sil 
 all these years, giving up all the comforts and 
 conveniences of a home of one's own, to be driven 
 out before I know where to go !" 
 
 Lady Rose was essentially saucy in disposition,
 
 234 Three Wives. 
 
 and had the greatest difficulty in refraining from 
 letting some fall on Lady Audrey. 
 
 " There is one thing to be said, Audrey — if you 
 cannot agree it is wisest to part. There is no 
 comfort in always snapping and snarling. Just 
 like mamma and me at last ; and, oh, dear ! it 
 drove me to marry in the hurry I did !" 
 
 " I am sure you never could have got a husband 
 who suited you better. He is the most devoted 
 creature I ever saw, and never seems to see ano- 
 ther woman but you." 
 
 " That may be ; but oh ! Audrey, he has been 
 so naughty — T was so ashamed of him. It might 
 be the sea-air — but only think, he was constantly 
 quite tipsy. He couldn't sometimes articulate. 
 Just think what a situation to put me into, if 
 either of the men had been rude !" 
 
 " Oh ! you had Sil." 
 
 " Well, he was most kind — really quite a bro- 
 ther to me, pitying me so much ; for he thinks, 
 and I think myself, I have thrown myself away." 
 
 " You seem to have become quite confiden- 
 tial!" 
 
 " Yes, we were indeed ; and if I get no other 
 good out of my yacht voyage, I feel I have made 
 a friend for life of Lord Sil."
 
 Three Wives. 235 
 
 " Do you intend to go on with your confidences 
 here, before his wife !" 
 
 " Why not ? He is not ashamed of them — nei- 
 ther am I. I'll bet you anything, if you like, he 
 is now telling his Elizabeth, as he calls her, of 
 Gaby's bad behaviour, and how much I am to be 
 pitied ; and how I am, perhaps, a little too larky, 
 but that I have a secret sorrow at home, and go 
 out into the world, and laugh and talk to hide it — 
 which is praiseworthy of me. And furthermore, 
 he will ask his Elizabeth, which is as good as com- 
 manding her, to be kind to this poor little Rose, 
 and to take her by the hand and befriend her, in case 
 anybody says unkind things of her. And she will 
 look pleased and important, saying, c Yes, Ha-r-ry.' " 
 
 " Rose, Rose, what a rattle you are !" 
 
 Meantime, Lady Rose was perfectly right in 
 her conjectures as to Lord Silborough's confiding 
 to his wife that he thought Lady tlose much to 
 be pitied. He described, with much disgust and 
 anger, Gaby's sins ; and if it crossed Elizabeth's 
 opening mind that Gaby's sins were something 
 like the Duke of Stradarven's, caused by the con- 
 duct of his wife, Lady Rose's devotion to gaiety 
 being as ardent as the Duchess's to her children, 
 still she was none the less sincere in promising her
 
 236 ' Three Wives. 
 
 husband to assist and befriend her in any way she 
 could. They had arrived so late in the year from 
 their yachting tour, that almost everybody was al- 
 ready engaged to the different country houses. 
 Therefore the Silboroughs found it difficult to 
 make up a Christmas party. 
 
 Lady Rose, a little tired of having to keep her 
 temper with Lady Audrey, a little sick at heart at 
 the display of Lord Silborough's fast increasing love 
 for his wife, and not a little envious and sad at the 
 growing perfections of the charming Elizabeth, 
 decided that to stay longer at Silborough without 
 company was more than she could endure. 
 
 " We will be dutiful, Gaby, and go to both Al- 
 wyn and Raby. I want to get papa to help me 
 to refurnish the drawing-room of the Nutshell. 
 And we must coax your father into giving us ano- 
 ther carriage. Coming from the Silboroughs, we 
 shall be in fine odour with both. And I am deter- 
 mined on one thing, Gaby, that though folks may 
 admire Lady Silborough, and though the world 
 will be running after the Duke of Stradarven, 
 people shall still acknowledge there never was any- 
 thing, and there never will be anything like Lady 
 Rose Raby, and the delights of her Nutshell. We 
 are paupers, but we are royal ones."
 
 Three Wives. 237 
 
 Lady Rose was not the only one who made plans 
 for the ensuing season. There being no one else 
 in the house, and Lord Silborough spending much 
 of his time with his wife and children, he now and 
 then heard Lady Audrey speak to Elizabeth in a 
 manner that both astonished and disgusted him. 
 He questioned his wife upon the subject, from 
 whom, of course, he learnt nothing. 
 
 Assuring himself, from quiet observation, that 
 he was not mistaken in the extraordinary beha- 
 viour of his sister, he spoke to her husband about it. 
 Mr. Buckhurst thought it the wisest plan to make 
 a confidant of his brother-in-law. 
 
 " I can assure you, Sil, it has been making me 
 perfectly miserable. After all your kindness and 
 liberality to us, that Audrey should be so utterly 
 lost to the sense of what is due to your wife, has 
 been so painful to me, that I have had to threaten 
 her with the idea 1 shall apply for foreign service." 
 
 " But in the first place," interrupted Lord Sil- 
 borough, waxing into passion, "I should like to 
 know on what grounds, and how she dare presume 
 to treat Lady Silborough in the manner she does?" 
 
 u Indeed, my dear Sil, I can only account for 
 it in this manner — she is jealous. For so long 
 she has been, as she fancies, everything to you — "
 
 238 Three Wives. 
 
 " Everything to me ! She has been nothing. 
 I did not want her — I never cared much for her. 
 She was an ill-tempered girl in the nursery ; and 
 I fancy, Buckhurst, you don't find her very good- 
 tempered now." 
 
 "Of that I shall say nothing; but she has the 
 idea that you are, or were, very fond of her — and 
 I know she is very fond of you." 
 
 " A curious way of shewing it, to insult my 
 wife ! And a creature so gentle and loveable as 
 Elizabeth ! I asked her — I asked her point-blank 
 one day, when I first suspected Audrey's conduct ; 
 and though she would not tell a lie about it, she 
 had such a seducing pretty way of turning the 
 conversation, I could not urge her more. But, of 
 course, Buckhurst, you will understand I do not 
 mean to be unkind to you, or unjust to Audrey, 
 but out she must go. I will place a thousand 
 pounds at Drummonds' to help you to buy a house, 
 as I suppose you will think it best to make your 
 home in London ; and I will make it another thou- 
 sand if you will settle there within the month. 
 Meantime, just give Audrey a hint, if I find that 
 by so much as a look she insults Lady Silborough, 
 out she goes that very instant." 
 
 " And you will serve her quite right," said the
 
 Three Wives. 239 
 
 politic brother-in-law; "Audrey's conduct quite 
 shocks me, for I can assure you, Sil, if ever a man 
 had an angel for a wife, you have." 
 
 "I know that, without being told !" growled his 
 brother-in-law, who of course had his fits of ill- 
 temper and bursts of bad manners, just like any 
 other common mortal. 
 
 That night Mr. Buckhurst by no means spared 
 his wife in describing this scene. 
 
 " I shall go to London to-morrow ; and you will 
 be good enough to let me know which part of 
 London you prefer. It will make no particular dif- 
 ference to me which you select, for, as I said be- 
 fore, I mean to apply for foreign diplomatic ser- 
 vice." 
 
 u Oh, Buckhurst!" sobbed his wife, who was 
 really very fond of him. 
 
 " It is too late, Audrey, to repent. It is not 
 once, but times upon times, that I have warned 
 you of the consequences of your ill-temper — be- 
 cause it is ill-temper ; you cannot really hate so 
 sweet a creature." 
 
 " I do — I do ! I can't help it. I hate her in 
 every way !" 
 
 " Then if you must indulge your hatred, you 
 must give up something to do so — and that is your
 
 240 Three Wives. 
 
 husband. I have told you often, 1 am not a man 
 to live in a small house, in the humdrum way we 
 must live, if our children are to inherit anything 
 after us. And I really love them too well to live 
 easy in my mind and spend their little portion. 
 At the same time, I must belong to a large estab- 
 lishment, and have all the luxuries of it ; the best 
 wine, first-rate cooking, and all those things which 
 have become absolutely necessary to me, if I am 
 to live at all. I have no objection to blow my 
 brains out, if that will suit you better ; but I think 
 my wisest plan will be to offer myself as private 
 
 secretary to the new ambassador for K, . I 
 
 have been in that country before, and made friends 
 there ; and I feel sure he will be delighted to have 
 me. So say at once what part of London you 
 would like, and I will execute the two things at 
 once — namely, get you a home, and provide my- 
 self with one also." 
 
 Lady Audrey sobbed all night, but to no effect ; 
 her husband departed by the first train, saying he 
 would write about houses, since she would not say 
 what part of London she liked best. She wrung 
 her hands half the day, and was perfectly wretched 
 and miserable, thinking herself the most unfortunate 
 of women, yet not in the least imputing it to her
 
 Three Wives. 241 
 
 own fault. She even entertained the idea of send- 
 ing for her brother, and expostulating with him, 
 and entreating him to consider that through his un- 
 kindness she was going to lose her darling Buck- 
 hurst. But some glimmering of common sense or 
 fear prevented her. The account of her brother's 
 anger, not to say fury, as described by her husband, 
 remained like a nightmare on her mind ; while she 
 bewailed over the impossibility of anything that 
 she could have said or done, causing it. In fact, 
 she had a mind something like the ostrich, who, 
 hiding his head in the sand, thinks he is hidden 
 altogether. She, threatened with the dreadful grief 
 of losing the company of her husband, utterly lost 
 sight of the circumstance that she owed her sorrow 
 to herself alone. 
 
 As she brooded, and mourned, and wept, and 
 bewailed herself, she followed Lady Rose's example, 
 and mapped out for herself a line of conduct for 
 the ensuing season, which, if it did not bring her 
 any pleasure — for she could know no pleasure with- 
 out her darling Buckhurst — still might bring her a 
 little soothing consolation by way of revenge. She 
 was not clever, it was not a characteristic of the 
 Silboroughs, and her weak little schemes of reprisal 
 would have made most people laugh. But it was 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 Three Wives. 
 
 the only comfort she had to make them, and in 
 endeavouring to perfect them, her mind became too 
 absorbed to care for much else. 
 
 Her husband returned, and told her that he had 
 bought the remainder of the lease of a house in 
 Green Street — extremely comfortable and full of 
 conveniences — he had set the painters and paperers 
 to work ; and she heard without a remonstrance. 
 He desired her wishes as to furniture, and she said, 
 with perfect truth, her mind was too much occu- 
 pied to think of such things, she left all to him. 
 And when he wound up by saying he was appoint- 
 ed private secretary to Plis Excellency Lord So- 
 and-So, Ambassador to the Court of Somewhere, 
 and was to be ready to depart in six weeks from 
 that date, she only gave a deep sigh, and recapitu- 
 lated all her little plans for the summer in her 
 mind. 
 
 Meantime, Lord Silborough was so much pleased 
 with his brother-in-law's expedition, that he for- 
 gave his wife, and they had, upon the whole, 
 rather a friendly parting. Lady Audrey gave her 
 sister-in-law the side of her bonnet to kiss, and 
 then thanked Heaven she was not a hypocrite. 
 She did not like her, and never had liked her, and 
 she never meant to like her. Indeed, now it was a
 
 Three Wives. 243 
 
 positive duty to hate her. Was it not owing to her 
 that her darling Buckhurst was going to leave her ? 
 
 Lord Silborough had his wife and children all to 
 himself for a few weeks, before the opening of the 
 London season, and he surfeited himself with love 
 and luxury. He was just getting to that period of 
 a man's existence when, having no other particular 
 excitement, he takes to gastronomy. 
 
 He began to lose his figure, and felt he was grow- 
 ing fat. Still it was such a delicious calm life, his 
 Elizabeth so lovely and loving, his boy growing to 
 be, under her loving care, just what his boy ought 
 to be, and his little daughter already promising to 
 be the image of her mother. He was contented, 
 indolent, and insensible to anythiug but his own 
 thorough enjoyment. And in this luxurious, silky, 
 pampered state he was ready to launch himself 
 forth on all the delightful excitements of London. 
 It is in such a state of mind that the great enemy 
 of manhood loves to find his victims. 
 
 As for the sweet Elizabeth, she also was in the 
 happiest mood, after her fashion. She was still so 
 girlish as to enjoy a romp with her step-son, and 
 looked the loveliest girl in the world as she did so. 
 She was on most lover-like terms with her husband ; 
 not shy, yet still a little chary and reticent of ca- 
 
 r2
 
 244 Three Wives. 
 
 resses and murmured " Harrys." These were re- 
 served for peculiar and marked occasions. And as 
 for the London season, she smiled to herself with 
 happiness at the thought of it, and had some curio- 
 sity to examine the wardrobes so bountifully filled 
 by her husband. And above everything, she was 
 blushingly curious to know how she should look in the 
 peacock dress, with its coronet of pearls, diamonds, 
 and peacock eyes.
 
 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Those that are up themselves keep others low, 
 Those that are low themselves hold others hard, 
 Nor suffer them to rise, or greater grow ; 
 And every one doth strive his fellow down to throw." 
 
 Thomson. 
 
 A ND so the roar of London began again. To 
 ^*- the habitues of this region of every bliss and 
 every woe, the sound was like the trumpet that an- 
 nounces victory. They had conquered the dulness 
 of the country, and came trooping in victorious 
 masses, to be rewarded with trophies and spoils. 
 The commoner and rarer visitant of London was 
 stunned by the noise, bewildered by the crowd, and 
 almost bereft of his own identity; but still he 
 struggled on his way, thinking it the right thing 
 to do, and pleasing himself by the hope that at all 
 events he was in the fashion. 
 
 As for the Nutshell where the paupers lived, it 
 was the most perfect asylum for such paupers ever
 
 24 6 Three Wives, 
 
 beheld. Lady Rose's drawing-room, newly fur- 
 nished and decorated, occupied the attention of the 
 world for one whole day, which was about as much 
 notoriety as she could expect for it. And she was 
 quite satisfied, because by it she succeeded in en- 
 trapping the great lion of the season, the young 
 Duke of Stradarven, into her Nutshell ; and having 
 once got him there, he seemed a willing prisoner. 
 
 Her tactics had been admirable. She started 
 ahead of everybody in the race for notoriety, by 
 merely the success of these two things. The } r oung 
 Duke was remarkably handsome, so much so that 
 Lady Rose said " he was wickedly so." Also, he 
 was extremely good, which made her add, " he was 
 angelic." These qualities (of an opposite kind, ac- 
 cording to Lady Rose) had, together with the od- 
 dity of one of his baptismal names, Benedetto, 
 caused his friends and companions to endow him 
 with the nom de caresse of Bene. Bene was in 
 and out of the Nutshell almost as often as Gaby 
 himself. 
 
 u We are going to do the country bumpkin, and 
 scream at a farce to-night, having no other amuse- 
 ment in view. Will you be of the party, Duke?" 
 asked Lady Rose of the wicked, angelic Bene. 
 " I dine out with grandmamma."
 
 Three Wives, 247 
 
 Bene had a royal sort of way, when speaking of 
 his grandmamma, of affecting " the boy." 
 
 " No ! what a good child ! I hope you will do 
 all grandmamma tells you." 
 
 " I go only to oblige her. I do not know the 
 people by sight, though one was my brother-in- 
 law !" 
 
 "Gracious goodness! — the Silboroughs. You will 
 have to take the automaton into dinner." 
 
 "Meaning Lady Silborough." 
 
 "Of course, the excellent Elizabeth, the new 
 model stepmother. Now, I will be good, and just 
 coach you through the sort of conversation you 
 must keep up with her, to make her say a word. 
 First, be sure you ask her if she has ever heard the 
 name of ' Harry.' " 
 
 " Rose, Rose," interrupted her husband, " re- 
 member how kind she is." 
 
 " Gaby is a little in love with the automaton, you 
 must know, Duke ; it is the greatest fun watching 
 them do their small talk. They ask each other 
 little questions, to which they innocently reply 
 < yes ' and < no!'" 
 
 " Am I to do the same ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no, ask her if she has entered a sister- 
 hood. I saw her carriage the other day with one
 
 248 Three Wives. 
 
 in it, and I see she has become patroness of some 
 Dorcas society. You cannot go wrong if you try 
 these subjects." 
 
 u But I know nothing of them myself. After 
 she has said her ' yes ' and ' no,' what am I to do 
 next?" 
 
 " Ah ! there is the weather, or her children — ah ! 
 yes, start her upon the subject of her children, and 
 she will save you all further trouble." 
 
 " But I shall be bored." 
 
 " So you will. What fun ! Now, pray — pray, 
 Duke, promise me one thing — you will come here 
 to-morrow and tell me all about it." 
 
 The " blessed one," as he was sometimes called, 
 owing to his perfections, his many advantages, and 
 his Italian name, promised faithfully, and depart- 
 ed. His u grandmamma " was very proud of him, 
 and liked being escorted by him ; and though he 
 was a little low — as to being bored at dinner, he 
 also was proud of her, and liked being her escort. 
 
 And they duly arrived at Silborough House. 
 The face of the automaton pleased him much. Its 
 girlish innocence of expression and purity of com- 
 plexion was just his taste. 
 
 " If I am bored," thought he, " I can look at her. 
 I begin to think Lady Rose considers her a rival."
 
 Three Wives. 249 
 
 The Duchess having asked to see her great- 
 grandson, Nugent was sent for. He came at once, 
 and passing in and out through all the guests, 
 made his way to Elizabeth, when, with a joyful 
 cry of " My own mumsey !" he sprang on her lap 
 and kissed her. She, seemingly nothing loth, suf- 
 fered all her maternal feelings to mantle in her 
 face, and returned the kiss with equal warmth, 
 regardless of any rufflement to her dress. Then, 
 bidding him go to the Duchess, she watched with 
 sparkling eyes and sweet smiles her pleasure at his 
 improvement. 
 
 Nugent was still rather quaint in his ways, and 
 was much given to a sort of old-fashioned polite- 
 ness, which led him to make his great-grand-mo- 
 ther a profound bow, and then kiss her hand. 
 Charmed with his action and countenance, she 
 drew him towards her, and kissed his cheek, say- 
 ing— 
 
 " My darling, I should scarcely have known you !" 
 
 " It is all my mumsey's doings — and doesn't she 
 look pretty ? — much prettier than anyone else." 
 
 " And who may you be, sir ?" asked the young 
 Duke. 
 
 Nugent looked at him steadfastly, and then said, 
 
 u I know very well who you are — the women
 
 250 Three Wives. 
 
 call } t ou the Duke, and we men Bene. I am your 
 nephew, Nugent." 
 
 " You are too much of a man, I suppose, to call 
 me uncle ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes — I should think so. I have caught 
 a trout a pound weight. Call me Nugent, and I 
 will call you Bene, and we will say we are cousins." 
 
 " Agreed. Do you ride V 
 
 " Of course ; I am going to be mumsey's squire 
 in the Row." 
 
 " You will let me ride with her sometimes ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you have a decent-looking horse." 
 
 Bene fulfilled his promise to Lady Rose the 
 next day, and sauntered into the Nutshell about 
 three o'clock. 
 
 " Well V she exclaimed, all excitement. 
 
 "Well?" he replied. 
 
 " What do you think of her 1" 
 
 " I think — nothing." 
 
 " I thought so — I knew it — what fun !" 
 
 " Because I am past thinking — I am in love 
 with her." 
 
 " Nonsense ! — what did she do to achieve such 
 a feat ? Was she quiet and silent, and spared you 
 being bored ?" 
 
 " By no means ; she laughed and talked, and
 
 Three Wives, 251 
 
 kept me in such a state of amusement, I forgot to 
 eat my dinner. I was so hungry when I got 
 home, I had to have supper." 
 
 " Do tell me the whole thing from beginning to 
 end !" cried Lady Rose, with an attempt at vivacity. 
 
 " We had a scene that I rather liked before din- 
 ner — grandmamma desiring to see my little kins- 
 man, Nugent. You know, his mother was my 
 sister — she was a good deal older than I. The 
 boy is evidently very fond of his new mother, and 
 she of him, for they greeted each other in a man- 
 ner that — that I shall like my wife to greet her 
 son, if I have a wife, and she a son." 
 
 " How pretty and interesting !" 
 
 " Then, as we went in to dinner, she said, ( I 
 think it so nice to hear all you young men calling 
 each other pet names. At first it used to bewilder 
 me, but with Nugent' s help I know which is 
 Baby, and Nigger, and Doodleums, and now I hear 
 that you are Bene.' * Yes,' I replied — ' that is my 
 name. I was thought such a blessed child, com- 
 ing after several sisters, that I was given the name 
 of Benedetto. But I understood the young men 
 of the present day were looked down upon as very 
 muffish for this habit.' ' Of course,' answered 
 she, i you will never find everybody of the same
 
 252 Three Wives. 
 
 mind about anything. But I like it. You are all 
 
 so brotherly and fond of each other, and I am sure 
 you all feel so.' ' You are quite right,' said I ; 
 f we would do anything for each other. They tell 
 me you are rather fond of sisterhoods. Are you a 
 sister of anything V ( No, I am not,' said she ; 
 6 and, do you know, I don't seem to care to be a 
 sister of one thing. I feel as if I should like to 
 be sister of everything.' ' Then,' I answered, e if 
 you are, I shall certainly be a brother.' ' Agreed,' 
 said she ; i so when the help of a brother is want- 
 ed, I shall just let you know, as you will do the 
 same by me when you think a sister is required.' 
 And so, as I told you, Lady Kose, what with mar- 
 velling at either her beauty, or her expression, or 
 her grace, or all three, and'trying not to lose a word 
 she said, I forgot to eat my dinner. But I quarrelled 
 with my dear grandmamma coming home." 
 " No — how could you be so undutiful 1" 
 " I asked her why she had not reserved Lad\ r 
 Silborough for me. My brother-in-law is a stupid 
 booby, thinking only of eating and drinking. 
 ' He is becoming very stout,' says grandmamma ; 
 ' but I think he is dotingly fond of her ; and I 
 wanted just such a mother for poor little Nugent.' 
 ' Grandsons ought to be cared for before great-
 
 Three Wives. 253 
 
 grandsons. However, I will make it up with you, 
 grandmamma, if you will find me a wife like her. 
 And until you do I shall be in love with her, which 
 is, as you know, a very wicked thing.' " 
 
 "Did grandmamma allow this?" 
 
 " Not at all — on the contrary, she said, ' By all 
 means love her, until I find one like her. I may 
 not perhaps succeed as far as beauty goes, for she 
 is a most beautiful creature.' So I said, provided 
 she was not positively forbidding, I should like a 
 wife whose heart coloured her face with fresh 
 roses, and out of whose eyes shone a serene soul." 
 
 « Very modest indeed ! — I think I may venture 
 to offer my help." 
 
 Poor Lady Rose ! It was very hard to hear 
 London ringing with a description of Lady Sil- 
 borough's appearance in her peacock dress, and to 
 know that she was pronounced by the man whose 
 fiat was at present " the fiat," as the only thing 
 worth looking at in London. Triumphant but a 
 week ago, the pauper of the Nutshell w T as ruling 
 London with her little jovial nod, and now she was 
 collapsed — she was nothing. She was pauperized 
 to the utmost extent of paupery. She had known, 
 had felt, that Lady Silborough, bursting on the 
 world, as Pygmalion's statue might have done on
 
 254 Three Wives. 
 
 him, when warmed up into life, would take all 
 hearts by storm. And yet they were accustomed 
 to her beauty — it was an exquisite charm of man- 
 ner, that even Lady Rose could not resist. It was 
 this bursting into life and animation. Her low, 
 sweet laughter was pronounced the most exquisite 
 thing ever heard ; her smile what a goddess might 
 envy; her grace unequalled. 
 
 Lady Rose had the mortification of never being 
 able to escape from some sign of Lady Silborough's 
 popularity. The town had paid her the compli- 
 ment of indulging in Raby fashions ; but the man- 
 ner in which London was placarded with the 
 Silborough robe, the Silborough bonnet, mantle, 
 shawl, gloves, colours, new inventions, carriages, 
 race-horses, sugar-plums, work-boxes, gentlemen's 
 neck-ties, fans, hats, charities! — in short, everything 
 that desired to be known and noticed had the Sil- 
 borough name added to it. And that the gentle 
 Elizabeth should not only have all this vast popu- 
 larity and ovation, but enjoy also the exclusive at- 
 tentions of the other great attraction of London, 
 the Duke of Stradarven, was, as Lady Rose ex- 
 pressed, more than a block of stone could stand 
 unmoved; Consequently the poor little thing be- 
 came reckless.
 
 Three Wives, 255 
 
 A few little naughty scandals that she tried to 
 spread about of the loves of " Bene for Elizabeth," 
 fell flat to the ground. The public at present 
 adored them too much to hear the slightest word 
 against them. They were their idols, set on high ; 
 and it is a noticeable fact that when the idols of 
 London go in for being good and excellent, Lon- 
 don credits them with every conceivable virtue 
 known in Heaven or elsewhere. While it is not 
 less true, if they take to worshipping an idol with 
 peccadilloes, there is not a peccadillo big or little 
 that they do not believe their idol to have com- 
 mitted, worshipping it all the same. 
 
 These are things scarcely to be understood, ex- 
 cept by little wwldly creatures such as Lady Rose. 
 She determined, did this little reckless thing, to 
 bring the town down on its knees for having paid 
 homage to what w T as fair without, but most simple 
 within. 'She w r ould make London angry with 
 itself for being taken in. 
 
 Of course Lady Audrey, now settled in Green 
 Street, lamenting her Buckhurst when she was 
 not thinking of her revenge, was heart and soul 
 ready to assist in so laudable a work. 
 
 " I have made those two, whom you know, 
 leave their cards at Silborough House, as if I was
 
 256 Three Wives, 
 
 there still. She will (not knowing that Sil, though 
 he knows them, never permits them inside the 
 house) of course return the visit. After that, she 
 must ask them to the house, and of course she and 
 Sil will quarrel." 
 
 " Pooh ! Audrey, that is nothing ; besides, she 
 won't quarrel with Lord Sil. The best thing is 
 for them to go boldly up and claim her acquaint- 
 ance at some ball. I will tell them what to do. 
 Just let us compromise her a little, and she will 
 collapse and disappear like a bubble. The town 
 is labouring under the idea she is going to improve 
 us all. Only just let them see she is as weak as 
 any one of us, and we shall see what we desire to 
 see."
 
 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Lift up thy trusting eyes unto the sky, 
 
 For Heaven, not earth, shall give thy words a hearing. 
 Speak Truth undauntedly, and live and die 
 Life loving, death unf earing." 
 
 E. H. MlTCHEL. 
 
 rpHE morning after the secession of Bene from 
 -*■ the Nutshell, victim to " Simplicity," as said 
 Lady Rose, his grandmother came and paid Lady 
 Silborough a long visit. 
 
 u In the first place, my dear, I have come to 
 thank you, on the part of his dead mother, for your 
 love and care of her son. I am aware of all you 
 did — the sacrifice you made to insure his recovery; 
 but I need say no more, as the beautiful sight we 
 all witnessed last night was ample proof how well 
 you have been rewarded." 
 
 " He is so affectionate and loving. Besides, re- 
 member how weakly, wickedly I left him so long 
 in the hands of Andrews." 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 Three Wives. 
 
 " Why should you be more to blame than our- 
 selves f" 
 
 " Because, madam, I felt so often an inward 
 sort of prompting in my heart, always urging me 
 to inquire into that which my common sense told 
 me was wrong. And I drove from me any thought 
 of interfering. And if he had died, or, still more 
 horrible, never recovered his reason !" 
 
 " How you shudder, my poor child ! I am 
 happy that, with so sensitive a nature, you have 
 been spared this corroding grief." 
 
 " Is it not strange, awakening up out of shyness 
 and reserve such as mine was, that I feel now so 
 much the other way ? I seem to desire to do every- 
 thing for everybody. I enjoy this gay, fascinating 
 life, I like making new acquaintances, and con- 
 jecturing their real characters. I find the least 
 thing interests me, and my heart can hardly take 
 . in the number of things that present themselves to 
 my mind." 
 
 " This is often the case with enthusiastic charac- 
 ters, and I believe there never was anything said 
 more true, than that there is no real virtue without 
 enthusiasm. The exposition of this is set forth in 
 a book I have recently read, and it proves, in my 
 opinion, unerringly, that the whole beauty and
 
 Three Wives. 259 
 
 strength of the Christian character arises from its 
 enthusiasm.'* 
 
 u That is an idea that pleases me much. I grieve 
 to feel so eager, to be so anxious, so ardent, and 
 then find it is all for nothing — a whim. But to 
 throw one's whole being into the practice and love 
 of virtue, to be a true Christian, methinks that is 
 an enthusiasm I should love." 
 
 a And one you will possess, my child, as the 
 pains and passions of human nature call forth the 
 exercise of those feelings over which we are to 
 triumph, if we hope to conquer. Of what use 
 would be our enthusiasm, if we had nothing to do 
 to call it forth?" 
 
 " I cannot look forward to such times without a 
 shudder lest I should fail at the hour I ought to 
 triumph." 
 
 "No one knows is own strength until he is 
 tried, but it is impossible for you to hope that 
 you will escape them. It is as well to cultivate the 
 highest, most elevated feeling, as a safe-guard." 
 
 " And yet it seems to me as if I was fenced 
 about with innumerable safe -guards, in the shape 
 of blessings that very few have." 
 
 "So I thought, Elizabeth. But I know you 
 have heard my story from your grandmother. 
 
 s 2
 
 260 Three Wives. 
 
 There is nothing harder for a pure-minded, re- 
 ligious woman to bear than the conduct of a hus- 
 band, who, good-natured, generous, and affectionate, 
 3 r et leaves your society without remorse or com- 
 punction, for — what I will not name to you." 
 
 Though Elizabeth's fair face wore a troubled 
 look for the anguish so strongly expressed in the 
 old lady's face, it was easy to perceive that she was 
 fearless as to any such fate for herself. Her se- 
 rene eyes looked with earnest confidence into those 
 of the Duchess, while her gentle lips expressed by 
 kisses the sympathy she gave her, but wanted not 
 herself. 
 
 " Why I mention this subject is, Elizabeth, be- 
 cause in our rank of life it is the great vice of it. 
 People of the middle class, who have not so much 
 leisure — those in professions, those who have duties, 
 those who have legitimate modes of spending their 
 time — have not the same temptation. I grieve to 
 say that this delightful, exciting, enjoyable London 
 brings about more misery from this cause than I can 
 describe to you. And, more shocking still, there 
 are many women of the highest rank who are as 
 much to be censured as the men. When I look 
 about, and watch the signs of the times, and see 
 how one class treads another on the heels, and that
 
 Three Wives. 261 
 
 the respect for the high ones of the earth is failing 
 towards them, because they are less virtuous than 
 those beneath them, I fear greatly for the future. 
 It was in a sort of enthusiasm inspired by my desire 
 to repair this that I lost sight of the error I was 
 committing, in not being guided by prudence. To 
 think I could remodel and improve society by my 
 own simple exertions, was indeed a mistake that 
 deserved correction. But my experience tells me 
 there is a gentler, better mode of doing it. Train 
 up your children, without doubt, to adore virtue 
 and abhor vice ; but not by coercion, rather by an 
 example that makes them see the parent they love 
 is respected. I was too severe, too harsh. I have 
 not a child left. I have not even the blessed 
 memory that they loved me." 
 
 Elizabeth spoke loving, comfortable words, and 
 mentioned the young Duke, as redeeming her from 
 the pain of an unloved old age. 
 
 " Yes, he seems given to me on purpose to show 
 that my prayers and penitence are accepted ; but 
 still nothing can allay the pang of having ruined 
 the soul of the man I loved. The temptations of 
 our class are so great, I hardly know how to ad- 
 vise you, should it chance they are brought to your 
 very door. For in some men the very display of
 
 262 Three Wives. 
 
 indignant love and horrified purity tends to drive 
 them further away ; while the exquisite sorrow of 
 Divine pity melting into mercy, turns their hearts 
 into gall and ashes. 'Tis a hard, hard fate for a 
 good woman to he pitted against a reckless, aban- 
 doned one. She has not any weapons to use such 
 as her adversary can wield with boldness and im- 
 pudence. 'Tis an insensible age this, and yet they 
 think this insensibility is goodness." 
 
 " Pardom me, dear Madam, if I remark how 
 pleasant it is to see the young men of the present 
 day so happy and brotherly. They seem so honest 
 and true to each other." 
 
 " Yes, more so than the women of the present 
 day ; but, Elizabeth, after thanking you for your 
 care of Nugent, I came here partly to give you 
 some idea of the people who are now crowding to 
 claim acquaintance with the beautiful Lady Sil- 
 borough. Of course there are some among them 
 who are bold enough to leave their cards ; but I 
 feel sure Silborough will by no means permit you 
 to become acquainted with them. Why I think it 
 right to mention this is, that last year, when Lady 
 Audrey was mistress here, I was grieved to find she 
 had got into the set which we will designate as 
 too fast. Poor Lady Rose Raby is much too in-
 
 Three Wives. 263 
 
 ti mate with them; but with her we have nothing 
 to do." 
 
 " Do not say she is to be one of those I must not 
 visit, because in some things I like her, and Henry 
 wishes me to be kind to her." 
 
 u Does he f She went yachting with him." 
 
 " Yes, and it was during that time he discovered 
 that she was very much to be pitied. Captain Kaby 
 has one bad habit." 
 
 " Into which she has forced him. I understand 
 it all. You must, of course, be civil to those whom 
 your husband likes, and if your influence or exam- 
 ple is of use to Lady Eose, you will delight the 
 whole Raby family — most excellent people — and 
 gain the everlasting gratitude of Lord Alywn." 
 
 " I fear she has no exalted opinion of my com- 
 mon sense ; but I am ready to give and take with 
 her in that matter." 
 
 " Do so, my dear Elizabeth. She is a worldly 
 little thing, and must see that it will always be 
 to her advantage to have you for her friend. I have 
 hope for her in that way." 
 
 " And I have hope for her in a stronger point 
 of view, which I can only explain by saying I feel 
 a certain friendship for her, which I cannot think 
 will be broken."
 
 264 Three Wives, 
 
 " Nothing is so beautiful as faith. Of course, 
 under any circumstances, I never meant to exclude 
 Lady Rose. She has, as yet, done nothing notori- 
 ous. But why Lady Audrey, a poor, discontented, 
 pining sort of good woman, should have gone into 
 the circles of the fast ones, and taken two of the 
 most notorious into her bosom as dear friends, I 
 cannot make out. They of course would be de- 
 lighted to have the entree here ; and Lady Audrey 
 having so foolishly opened the gates to let them in, 
 it not unnaturally follows they will leave their cards 
 on you. If they do, show them to your husband, 
 and ask wdiat he wishes you to do. I feel certain 
 of his reply. But Lady Audrey's conduct aston- 
 ishes me all the more, because she was somewhat 
 laughed at and somewhat scorned, even by our set, 
 for holding herself so very high. I see you will 
 tell me nothing of her behaviour to you. But, 
 Elizabeth, I am too much of a woman of the 
 world not to know she has done this from some 
 motive — which is, to place you in an awkward 
 position." 
 
 " She does not love me, I acknowledge ; but I 
 hear she was always of a querulous temper. Henry 
 says she never agreed with him, and now, we see, 
 her husband has left her."
 
 Three Wives. 265 
 
 K She may be querulous, but she is something 
 besides. At all events, I owe you too much not to be 
 very watchful for you. Knowing that natures like 
 yours will see no evil until it is thrust nakedly be- 
 fore you, I have made out a list of those who I 
 imagine will be your visitors. AH those marked 
 with a cross I love and value. Those marked in 
 this fashion I like, but do not know so well. 
 The rest of them I have left to your own judgment. 
 These black lines speak for themselves ; have no- 
 thing to do with them, and as little as politeness 
 warrants with these. And now, my love, excuse 
 this long and prosy visit. London society wants 
 natural, earnest characters like yours ; to purify it, 
 and to do so, you must be nearly as full of worldly 
 wisdom as themselves." 
 
 "I fear so, indeed — poor simplicity is sadly 
 laughed at !" 
 
 " And yet in simple characters we find great 
 ones. 'Tis a glorious position to be in, that of 
 yours. Youth, wealth, rank, beauty, you will not 
 wonder, my dear Elizabeth, that we, your grand- 
 mother and I, look to you for great things." 
 
 " I pray, my dear madam, that you may not be 
 disappointed." 
 
 " I pray so too. I do not want you to go about
 
 266 Three Wives. 
 
 as I am doing now, warning and strengthening. 
 Your victories will be made by sudden noble deeds; 
 you will recover the lost by magnanimity. Do not 
 fear for work. There is always opportunity, alas ! 
 for exercising every virtue under the sun. Do not 
 let idle, foolish gossip torment you about Bene. 
 You both carry your characters in your faces. You 
 like each other, and when two fine characters meet, 
 they cannot but admire each other. I wish you 
 had had a sister, Elizabeth ; but I will pay you the 
 compliment of saying, my dear, we ought not to 
 expect the blessings of two Elizabeths at one time. 
 Farewell, my dear, don't forget my worldly maxims, 
 be as wise as the wise ones. Ah ! here is Nugent, 
 cap and whip in hand." 
 
 " How do you do, grandmamma. Will you per- 
 mit me to have the company of my mumsey in 
 the Row ? Our horses are at the door." 
 
 " Willingly, my little lord ; perhaps you will be 
 kind enough to see me to my carriage?" 
 
 " You do me honour — pray accept my arm f ' 
 
 And my Lord Nugent, on his tiptoes, handed 
 out, in the most gallant manner, his great-grand- 
 mamma.
 
 267 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " My brain, methinks, is like an hour-glass, 
 Wherein m' imaginations run like sands, 
 Filling up Time ; but then are turned and turned 
 So that I know not what to put upon." 
 
 Jonson. 
 
 rpHE suspected cards were left, and left, as might 
 -*- have been expected, fruitlessly. 
 
 " Don't fret, Audrey," said Lady Rose ; " we 
 will have the saintly Elizabeth on speaking terms 
 
 with the fast ones yet. Are you going to H 
 
 House to-night !" 
 
 " I am invited, but I have not spirits to go." 
 
 " Go, by all means, my dear, and you will find 
 your spirits there. Get Lady Sil to take you. I 
 can hardly contain myself — I expect so much fun 
 to-night, and my dress is a marvel. I see Lady 
 Sil has cards out for a ball." 
 
 "Yes," moaned Lady Audrey, "there is my 
 card — I am invited just like the crowd !" 
 
 u It is very hard for you, my poor dear, once
 
 268 Three Wives, 
 
 the sender out of the cards. However, go to- 
 night, whatever happens. It will be the greatest 
 fun." 
 
 But Lady Rose had unfortunately a great deal 
 to endure before she attained her pleasure. On 
 returning home to the Nutshell, she found her 
 Gaby sitting with his head between his hands, the 
 most woeful spectacle of despair and grief that 
 painter ever pictured or sculptor moulded. 
 
 " Good gracious ! Gaby, don't say your mother 
 is dead !" 
 
 " No, she isn't dead, but I daresay she wishes 
 she was. There is such a horrid report spread all 
 over the town about me." 
 
 " You don't say so ! — why, Gaby, you are now 
 famous ; you have done something to make the 
 town talk ! What can you want more !" 
 
 " I beg your pardon — all I desire is that the 
 town leaves me alone, and you too. Luckily, I 
 know better than to believe what they say of you." 
 
 " Gaby, don't be ridiculous — tell me immediate- 
 ly what has happened." 
 
 " It is reported that I got drunk every night of 
 my life on board the yacht, and that you — I mean 
 Lord Sil — however, that's the part I don't intend 
 — I mean — that I do not believe — be it m* n or
 
 Three Wives, 269 
 
 woman that says it, I send the lie down their 
 throats !" 
 
 " Who could have spread it ?" murmured Lady 
 Rose, Conscience knocking loudly at her heart, and 
 Wisdom whispering of the folly of trusting a 
 creature like Lady Audrey. 
 
 " That is what I desire to find out. I am as 
 sure as I am of myself that Baby and Doodleums 
 would rather have blabbed of themselves ; and Sil 
 would not venture to do so, because of the part 
 he plays in the report." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that ; men like him see 
 their neighbours' faults, but never their own." 
 
 " Then all I have got to say, Rose, is this : I 
 go straight to him, and tax him with it. I own I 
 was in fault, but he shall see that in dragging me 
 down into the mud he has dragged himself also." 
 
 " Oh ! my darling Gaby, pray think of poor me !" 
 
 " I do it for your sake ; 'tis better you should 
 be supposed to have flirted than that I connived 
 at it. By every power in heaven and hell, I'll 
 right myself ! And if the world do cast aspersions 
 upon you, believe me, Rose, your husband, de- 
 voted, as you know he has been, will be your pa- 
 tient slave — your dog; he will show the world he 
 dotes on you still. And all my family will rally
 
 270 Three Wives. 
 
 round you, Eose ; and let me tell you, there is not 
 a family more respected in London — no, not in 
 the world!" And the tears burst forth from Gaby's 
 eyes as he recalled a scene he had only just had 
 with his darling mother. 
 
 Lady Rose was moved at Gaby's tears, and saw 
 the matter was serious. Moreover, she was pleased 
 with Gaby ; his manly sense of honour, his honest, 
 good heart showed themselves forth to her in a 
 light she had never seen before. 
 
 " Dear Gaby, listen. Do you think that stupid 
 Lady Audrey has spread it about ? I am very 
 vexed, but one day I told her some of the conver- 
 sations I had had with Lord Sil, and she, always 
 so envious, wondered how I had the opportunity ; 
 and then — oh ! Gaby, I am so sorry ! — then I did 
 say that the sea air had such an effect." 
 
 " Say no more — I see it all — I forgive you, 
 Rose." And with a magnanimity that gave Lady 
 Rose quite a mental stab, he rose, and looking at 
 her with sad, mournful eyes, touched her cheek 
 with his lips, saying, " I have borne much for you, 
 my wife, and I will try to bear this !" and he left 
 the room. 
 
 Lady Rose sat down a little stunned. She had 
 an idea she would like to cry, but crying always
 
 Three Wives. 271 
 
 made her eyes red, and she had some little plans 
 for the evening that would necessitate her looking 
 her very best. At the same time, she was a little 
 angry. When she most bewailed herself for having 
 married Gaby, she always did him the justice to 
 say in her heart nobody could have suited her 
 better, as he let her have all her own way. 
 
 Now, it appeared that she was fallen from her 
 high estate ; he had absolutely had occasion to say 
 " he forgave her." So singularly constituted was 
 her odd little mind, that, acknowledging Gaby 
 never looked better in her eyes, or stood higher in 
 her esteem for his manly, honest indignation, she 
 was not going to forgive him in a hurry, for having 
 presumed " to forgive her." She must get him 
 back into his normal state of allegiance and obe- 
 dience, and then she would, perhaps, tell him on the 
 whole he behaved very well. But he had pre- 
 sumed, and he must suffer for it. 
 
 Just as Lady Rose arrived at this conclusion, 
 her mother was announced. One look at her face 
 was quite sufficient. As if Gaby had not already 
 almost worried her out of her senses, here was 
 Lady Alwyn with a thousand cares looming on her 
 brow. 
 
 Always a little afraid of her daughter, Lady
 
 272 Three Wives. 
 
 Alwyn had judged that her best tactics were to 
 rush at once to the charge, and get in the first 
 word. 
 
 " Rose, your father has sent me to you. He is 
 shocked, he is scandalized at a report — ; — " 
 
 " A report ! — poor papa ; why don't you, madam, 
 give him some idea as to the worth of reports in 
 London % I am sure you can tell from experience." 
 
 " Don't be impertinent, Rose. It is not exactly 
 report, but he is naturally very apprehensive. He 
 is obliged, as you know, once or twice a year to go 
 and see his aunt, Lady Wyn." 
 
 " Oh ! ves, that horrid creature, who is a disgrace 
 to us all." 
 
 " She greeted vour father with the news that vou 
 were following her example." 
 
 "Oh! mamma, and papa could believe that? 
 "Why, she is, or has been so wicked that she has 
 not a soul to speak to her, that I ever see. Besides, 
 she looks so wicked, with such bold, bad eyes, and 
 such manners." 
 
 "Nevertheless, Rose, I can just remember she 
 was prettier than you. She married her first cousin, 
 Lord Wyn, who was your father's uncle. If they 
 had had any childreu, you would not have been 
 Lady Rose. However, she was so lovely that when
 
 Three Wives. 2 "3 
 
 they went to Court the people stood up on chairs to 
 catch a glimpse of her, and he was equally hand- 
 some, with that beautiful profile your father has. 
 They were the handsomest couple ever seen. But 
 she was the cleverest of the two, and he spoilt her. 
 That is what alarms your father. He could deny 
 her nothing, as your husband cannot deny you. 
 So she presumed on it, and then went further and 
 further, until there is no doubt about it, though 
 this is only known in the family, that he destroyed 
 himself. He really did, Rose; his sensitiveness of 
 honour was quite as strong in him as in your father. 
 He took laudanum, and was found dead in his 
 chair. She found him herself, and it is presumed 
 took from his dead hand the bottle out of which he 
 had taken the laudanum. And then, being a most 
 imperious, haughty, overbearing woman, she order- 
 ed the doctors to say he died of a fit ; which they 
 did, and it was all hushed up. But after his death 
 she became perfectly abandoned, and from being a 
 most beautiful woman, she gradually changed into 
 the ugly, awful-looking creature she is now. It 
 is not age that has made her so frightful, but 
 wicked passions. They have stamped their nature 
 upon her. It makes one shudder to look at her, 
 she is like a Jezabel." 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 Three Wives, 
 
 " I grant she is, mamma. The few times I have 
 seen her going by in her carriage, made me perfect- 
 ly sick to think she bore our family name." 
 
 " Your father has unfortunately to go to her, to 
 see her sign her name to some document, and he 
 has told me more than once he would rather give 
 her double her jointure than do it. She always 
 shocks and annoys him ; and yesterday she said, in 
 her wickedest way : i So I hear your Rose is very 
 like me. Well ! good luck to her. Tell her to go 
 on and amuse herself ; when every door is closed 
 against her, mine will be open ; she will put new 
 life and spirit into me. They tell me 'tis a very 
 fast age, but I cannot help thinking I could teach 
 her a few things.' " 
 
 " Horrid wretch !" 
 
 " Yes, truty, Eose, do be warned. Virtue is so 
 precarious in London." 
 
 We have seen that the heart of Lady Rose was 
 an odd one. If her mother had said no more, but 
 trusted to the natural feeling of horror that Lady 
 Rose felt at such a creature daring to speak of her in 
 this fashion, it would have been well. But already 
 in a state of irritation, Lady Rose, regardless of 
 the evening's requirements, burst into a passion of 
 tears, and asked her mother how she dared think
 
 Three Wives. 275 
 
 of her in conjunction with that creature? 
 
 " Virtue precarious in London ! — it may be so 
 to some ; but I wish to know what I have done 
 to be classed with such a woman, to be warned in 
 this way ? Why cannot I be trusted to take care 
 of myself I And, let me tell you, I have taken 
 care of myself. There is not a married woman in 
 London who has had better reason for taking care 
 of herself." 
 
 " Oh ! Rose ! Rose !" cried her mother. For 
 though a complete woman of the world, it was in 
 wretched little meannesses that she indulged ; but 
 she was sofarcapable of judging of the powerof evil 
 and temptation, that she was rather more horrified 
 at her daughter's words than a better woman would 
 have been. She knew what insecure footing was 
 the basis of all boasting ; and when it came to an 
 absolute exultation as to the vast opportunities of 
 going wrong, had she so desired, Lady Alwyn felt 
 as if her daughter was already on the brink of the 
 fatal precipice. And a sudden pang or smiting 
 of the heart at having helped a little to bring this 
 about, caused the worldly, hardened woman to 
 burst into tears. 
 
 Knowing what " a miracle of virtue " she was, 
 as Lady Rose told her husband, she took no no- 
 
 T 2
 
 276 Three Wi 
 
 ee wives. 
 
 tice of her mother's tears — in fact, they only irri- 
 tated her the more ; and seeing this, Lady Alwyn 
 also lost her temper. It was very seldom that 
 she gave way to tears ; and as they had no effect 
 on her daughter, she assumed a scornful and indig- 
 nant air, regarding her with cold disdain. 
 
 " All I can say is, Eose, that everybody is cry- 
 ing you down — more because you are such an un- 
 natural mother." 
 
 " I am glad it is nothing improper this time.*' 
 
 " But it is improper, you foolish creature ! 
 There has your child been three weeks in town, 
 and Mrs. Raby says you have never been to see it." 
 
 " I was very good to it at Christmas, and got 
 rather fond of the animal while we were at Raby." 
 
 " And this is April ! I agree with Mrs. Raby, 
 you are utterly without any affections whatever. 
 Even your excellent husband, who spoils you, has 
 his character taken away by you. When I first 
 heard the report of what he did on board the yacht, 
 I went straight to Lady Audrey. I knew, what- 
 ever had happened, you would have told her. And 
 now I know, Rose, just as certain as I am sitting 
 by you, that it is entirely owing to your foolish 
 tattling that all this has come out about him." 
 
 " And I suppose you told the Rabys ?"
 
 Three Wives. 217 
 
 "No, Rose, I did not. With Adelaide still un- 
 married, and Sophia introduced this year, I could 
 not do such a thing. But you are a very hardened 
 creature, and always you were most undutiful. 
 And if you will not take advice, you must go to 
 the bad, and thank yourself that at all events Lady 
 Wyn will be pleased to have your company." 
 
 So saying, Lady Alwyn suddenty withdrew. 
 She had had the last word with her daughter, and 
 endeavoured to find comfort in that thought. At 
 the same time, she was not without a misgiving 
 that she had done more harm than good. She 
 was conscious she possessed no tact, a circumstance 
 that had given her husband intolerable trouble, 
 from the many scrapes into which her tongue and 
 temper had led her. And as for the soothing 
 sweetness of a mother's penetration, who gently 
 and sagaciously allures the mind of a wayward 
 child, she was utterly without it. Had she been a 
 cottager's w r ife, she would have beaten her chil- 
 dren upon the slightest provocation ; and she so 
 far carried out this idea, that on stepping into her 
 carriage to go home, she felt heartily sorry she 
 could not have Lady Rose well whipt and sent to 
 bed.
 
 278 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 " For what is music, if sweet words 
 Rising from tender fancies be not so ? 
 Methinks there is no sound so gentle — none — 
 Not even the south wind young, when first he comes 
 "Wooing the lemon flowers, for whom he leaves 
 The coasts of Basac : not melodious springs, 
 Tho' heard i' the stillness of their native hills : 
 Not the rich viol, trump, cymbal, nor horn, 
 Guitar, nor cittern— nor the pining flute 
 Are half so sweet as tender human words." 
 
 Barry Cornwall. 
 
 A ND so this poor little Rose was angered, mor- 
 -^- tified, and insulted beyond all powers of 
 bearing. And the keenest mortification of all was 
 that she had been thus insulted, and yet had no- 
 thing to bring forward as a token that her mode 
 of life was the correct one — that if she was not 
 highly considered, still she was the fashion ; if she 
 had no great rank, still the highest rank sought 
 her company. And though she was a pauper,
 
 Three Wives. 279 
 
 still she was a magnificent pauper, and showed the 
 world how paupers could live. 
 
 As she summed up all her efforts, her virtues, 
 her struggles, and threw in with them her beauty, 
 her liveliness, her wit, and her Nutshell, she was 
 fain to confess to herself that she had gained no 
 footing. What temporary elevation she possessed, 
 she fought and struggled for, and very hard work 
 it was to do so. Once more her poor little thoughts 
 ran upon the old subject, " How was all this to 
 end T 
 
 " I started so well this year, I thought I was 
 going to carry all before me. I took such pains 
 and trouble to secure the Duke, and one evening 
 with that stupid creature undid it all. What is it 
 in her that the men see so delightful ? She does 
 not amuse them as I do. They haven't gone into 
 any very great entertainments yet, and we have 
 had our little dinners twice a week ever since the 
 season began. I give up everything for society, 
 and she gives up nothing. What more can I do ? 
 How is this all to end ? And, as if this worry is 
 not enough for me, Gaby goes into this absurd 
 state about this report, which reminds me I will 
 have it out with Audrey to-night. I have half a 
 mind to punish her by not assisting her any fur-
 
 230 Three Wives. 
 
 ther with what she calls her righteous revenge. 
 Righteous, indeed ! — stupid, miserable creature ! — 
 shall I help her, or shall I not? Rut then I shall 
 lose my fun, and I must have something to amuse 
 me. And once I give way, I shall only shine as 
 Lady Silborough chooses her light to fall on me, 
 which is a thing I never — never will submit to. 
 No ! Mamma has tried to bully me. I won't be 
 bullied — that is, no one shall bully me without see- 
 ing that I am ail the worse for it. If papa had 
 come instead of mamma — oh ! my poor, dear, dar- 
 ling papa, are you unhappy about your little 
 Rose ? I saw him to-day in the Park, walking all 
 alone in the crowd, apparently so absorbed as to 
 see and hear no one. He looked thin and pale, 
 and quite old, as if he had no life in him, and as 
 if his clothes were all hanging on bones. And 
 when Adelaide rode up to him, and spoke to him, 
 what a sweet, beautiful, loving look came into his 
 eyes ! Adelaide is like papa. Mamma thinks I 
 am the cause that she does not marry, but it is her 
 own doing. She dotes upon papa, and she takes 
 care mamma does not worry him. I really think, 
 if it was not almost too much for me to believe of 
 a sister of mine, Adelaide won't marry that she 
 may be a comfort to papa. And what am I ? —
 
 Three Wives. 281 
 
 well, I cannot help it — people should not bully 
 me ; and it is not everyone who has had such a 
 terrible trial as mine. To find a girl, whom I de- 
 spised as a girl, taking the place and position I 
 designed for myself ! I must have my revenge 
 for that — yes, perhaps if I only succeed in making 
 the simple Elizabeth do something exceedingly 
 simple — if I can by any means just let a whiff of 
 ridicule assail her — if I can get her to make a 
 mistake, or commit some folly, I will forego every- 
 thing else. I am not like Audrey, ill-natured. I 
 don't wish to make her quarrel with Lord Silbo- 
 rough, or rather him with her ; but I should like 
 him to see and feel she is not so very perfect, after 
 all. Oh ! dear me, should I have felt like this 
 had I been his wife % At all events, I should 
 never have had to struggle to keep up my head as 
 I am doing now. And he is easily pleased. Like 
 most selfish men, one has only to attend to his ap- 
 petite and his whims, to do anything with him. 
 And one thing is very certain, let people say what 
 they will, he is, and he always means to be, my 
 friend. Good gracious ! if I had been his wife, 
 how I could have turned him round my finger ! 
 I could have done anything with him — and she 
 never tries. She doesn't seem to care for any-
 
 282 
 
 thing in particular. He would never have grown 
 so fat and indolent had I been his wife. How 1 
 do go harping on that idea, knowing all the time 
 it can never be realised ! Such a waste of the 
 finest position ! I believe it is that which pro- 
 vokes me so. As Lady Sil borough, London 
 should have treated me as its queen. But I only 
 get a weary, wan look in my eyes, teasing myself 
 w T ith all this thinking. I only wish I knew how it 
 is all to end. I declare I am beginning to look 
 faded, which reminds me to go and see after my 
 dress ; then I will read awhile. I have got the 
 naughtiest book, which is sure to amuse me, and 
 keep me from fretting." 
 
 But in spite of her book, Lady Eose still thought 
 a good deal more than she liked. Something 
 seemed to urge her to give up the contest, or at 
 all events not to ally herself with the treacherous 
 and ill-natured Lady Audrey. 
 
 " Only this once, just this once," said she to 
 herself, as she surveyed herself arrayed in a dress 
 so pretty and becoming, she was quite elated. " I 
 must show myself to Gaby," she added, hungering 
 for praise, and rushed into his dressing-room. 
 
 The good Gaby, in full dress, was on his 
 knees, apparently saying his prayers. Lady Rose
 
 Three Wives. 283 
 
 fidgeted, in the hope of attracting his attention. 
 But he diligently went through what he was doing. 
 As he rose from his knees, his wife said, 
 
 " In the name of goodness. Gaby, what were you 
 doing f 
 
 " I was saying my prayers, Rose. I always do 
 so when we are going out to make a night of it, as 
 not only has the morning come before we get home, 
 but I am often too tired to say them properly. In- 
 deed, I am ashamed to say sometimes I have for- 
 gotten them. So I hit upon this plan, and I find 
 it a very good one." 
 
 " I suppose it promised its mother always - to say 
 its prayers," said Lady Rose, remembering that she 
 had to snub and teaze him a little, to atone for 
 what she called his airs about forgiveness. 
 
 " It would gladly have promised its mother," an- 
 swered Gaby calmly, " only its mother knew that it 
 promised itself to remember the Good God." 
 
 Lady Rose felt rebuked. So far from snub- 
 bing, was she not snubbed ? She turned the con- 
 versation on her dress. 
 
 " It is most lovely, and you look very well in it, 
 my little Rose." 
 
 His little Rose ! Really if she did not think it 
 something of a joke, Gaby was rather patronising
 
 284 Three Wives. 
 
 than meek. Something must be done most speed- 
 ily, to bring him back to his submissive, coaxing 
 
 ways. However, they were on their way to H 
 
 House, and it was inconvenient to trouble her head 
 about him, when she had so much more to think 
 of — the effect of her dress upon the women, and of 
 her beauty on the men, both of which were things 
 absolutely necessary to note by Lady Rose. Her 
 spirits depended upon the envy of the one, and the 
 tribute of the other. She was very well satisfied with 
 both, and her vanity being delightfully fed, she sat 
 down by Lady Audrey in capital spirits. 
 
 " Do you know, Audrey, that you have got me 
 into terrible disgrace, by letting out what I told 
 you in confidence of what happened on board the 
 yacht." 
 
 " I did not let it out." 
 
 " Who in the name of goodness could have done 
 sol" 
 
 " It was Sil ; he cannot get over your being 
 thrown away upon such a man." 
 
 Lady Rose looked at her in surprise. It was so 
 unlike Lady Audrey to make this admission, that 
 but for the delight it gave her vanity to think Lord 
 Silborough was still under such concern for her, 
 she would not have believed her.
 
 Three Wives. 285 
 
 " Pray don't let it be known that he is at the 
 bottom of it, Audrey, for Gaby is in a most awful 
 passion, and is ready to quarrel with Lord Sil to 
 any amount." 
 
 "Perhaps he had better do so," retorted Lady Au- 
 drey, with a sort of grim smile. 
 
 " Audrey, I hope you don't intend dragging me 
 into any scrape to suit }^ourself ." 
 
 " I don't very well see how I can. If my bro- 
 ther likes you, and chooses to take your part, what 
 have I got to do with it 1" 
 
 u True ! — when did you see Lord Sil ? M 
 
 "This afternoon he was with me an hour or 
 two !" 
 
 " Discoursing of the perfections and successes 
 of his Elizabeth, I suppose f 
 
 " He was talking of you chiefly !" 
 
 "Washe?" 
 
 "Yes ; he said he thought London horribly dull, 
 except where you were to be found. By-the-bye, 
 you have never told me what scene is to be enacted 
 to-night, by way of amusing us I" 
 
 "Ah! yes — and it is time we went and placed 
 ourselves. Lady Tantan is here, they always toler- 
 ate her in this house, as you and I do, my dear, in 
 ours. 1 must say she is vastly good-natured and
 
 286 Three Wives. 
 
 generous — she is always sending me the loveliest 
 flowers." 
 
 " Is she angry that Lady Sil has not noticed her 
 cards ?" 
 
 " Not she ; she laughs at it, and is going to re- 
 venge herself in this way. You know she is 
 utterly unabash able—brass and brazen don't ex- 
 press her — when she takes it into her head to do 
 a thing. Lady Sil always dances one, if not two, 
 dances with the blessed one. Just as she is hang- 
 ing on his arm, Lady Tantan means to march up, 
 and say loudly — and you know what her voice and 
 laugh are — ' How do you do, Lady Silborough ? 
 I am delighted to see you at last ! Will you in- 
 troduce me to the Duke V Now, we all know 
 what a nervous, shy creature she is ; and of course, 
 under the circumstances, she will acknowledge the 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " She may be induced out of politeness to ac- 
 knowledge the acquaintance ; but no Silborough 
 would ever commit such a breach of good manners 
 as to introduce one person to another without pre- 
 viously learning if it is agreeable to both." 
 
 " But she is not born a Silborough, my dear," 
 replied Lady Rose, looking a little saucily at her 
 beloved friend Audrey.
 
 Three Wives. 287 
 
 " She would not dare to do it if Silborough is 
 standing by." 
 
 "Oh! we hope he will. We must have her 
 completely in the toils — or not at all. It would 
 only have to be done over again, if he did not 
 witness the absolute fact of her admission of the 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " Well, I hope it will succeed. Let us go." 
 
 Hearing the loud laugh and voice of Lady Tan- 
 tan, they drew near. 
 
 " Ah ! yes," she was saying, " I believe it has 
 been said that women were intended to do as 
 much, or the same, as men ; but from some in- 
 feriority they just fell short of it. Now, I deny 
 that. 'Tis just the other way, and I am ready to 
 prove it ; riding, racing, jumping, or swimming." 
 
 " A public trial, my lady f " cried a voice. 
 
 " Oh ! of course." 
 
 And she bandied a few words with the men 
 that always surrounded her, in a manner that 
 caused the really refined Lady Audrey to shudder. 
 
 That she, a Silborough, should have suffered 
 herself to be introduced to such a vulgar creature, 
 to say nothing of anything worse, was most dread- 
 ful. But of course she would never have incurred 
 the disgrace if it had not been for Lady Silbo-
 
 288 Three Wive*. 
 
 rough. She was to blame — she ought to be pun- 
 ished. And no better punishment could be de- 
 vised than that of being forced into an acquaint- 
 ance with this obnoxious person. She longed to 
 see it done. 
 
 At the moment a sort of murmur in the crowd 
 announced the coming of one who commanded the 
 worship of it. 
 
 " She is coming !" whispered Lady Rose ; " she 
 is on the Duke's arm, and Lord Sil is behind with 
 the Duchess. Let us make more space. Oh ! 
 what fun !" 
 
 The crowd opened, making way for the beauti- 
 ful and stately Elizabeth. And none could look 
 at her without admiration. The angry sister-in- 
 law, the envious Lady Rose, the bold, unabashed 
 woman of the world, each with the admiring crowd 
 around, could not but acknowledge they saw be- 
 fore them a woman, beautiful in the sanctity of 
 her womanhood. The royalty of inward happi- 
 ness beamed from her eyes — a girlish blush and 
 half shy smile shewed her perception of the admi- 
 ration that broke out in murmurs around her. 
 There was not a trace of vanity or self-gratifica- 
 tion, but a sweet pleasure that she was giving pleas- 
 ure — an innocent delight that she was commended.
 
 Three Wives. 289 
 
 At this moment, stepping forward with some- 
 what of arrogance, in her untuneable, unfeminine 
 voice, Lady Tantan, holding out her hand, said, 
 
 u How do you do, Lady Silborough ? We are 
 delighted to welcome yon this season among us." 
 
 Elizabeth turned her stately head, and fixed her 
 eyes, beaming with their serene light, full upon 
 Lady Tantan. The blush of pleasure did not 
 leave her cheeks, nor the sweet smile her lips. 
 But some mysterious subtle change passed over 
 the young face — not of reproof, not of scorn, not 
 even so much as a flash of astonishment. Was it 
 pity? 
 
 In soft, clear tones, with an inimitable grace 
 and courtesy, yet with startling significance, Lady 
 Silborough answered, 
 
 " Pardon me ; we — are not acquainted," and 
 passed on. 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 ' ' What's that, which Heaven to man endears, 
 And that which eyes no sooner see 
 Than the heart says, with floods of tears, 
 Ah ! that's the thing which I would be ?" 
 
 C. Patmore. 
 
 nPHE morning after this scene all London was 
 ■*- ringing with its story. Those who had wit- 
 nessed it were never tired of repeating it, and those 
 who were not so fortunate could not hear the de- 
 scription too often. Lord Silborough had recog- 
 nized his wife's share in it by merely saying, 
 
 " I was much pleased, Elizabeth, with the man- 
 ner in which you put down that most objectionable 
 woman. You did it exactly as 1 like." 
 
 The Duchess was much more impressed with the 
 importance of the act, while she could not withhold 
 her admiration of the manner in which it was done. 
 
 " I think, Elizabeth, you proved last night that 
 on an emergency you are equal to the occasion. 
 Old and experienced as I am, I should have felt
 
 Three Wives. 291 
 
 puzzled myself what to do. At all events, I could 
 not have restrained my astonishment, and yet you 
 showed none. Were you warned !" 
 
 " Only thus much. I felt that leaving cards 
 without the usual introduction was an act that must 
 bid me prepare for others. It was one of those in- 
 tuitions, dear madam, of which I have told you. 
 As there was to be no doubt about the refusal of 
 the intimacy, there was but one way to act, in case 
 the matter was pushed further." 
 
 " Nothing could be more admirable than your 
 manner. I am curious to know what effect it had 
 upon one so bold and unabashed as Lady Tantan." 
 
 "Ah! madam, I love my own sex dearly! I 
 hope I did not hurt her feelings !" 
 
 u If she has any feelings, Elizabeth, I hope you 
 did, for she could entertain no anger at your 
 manner. At the same time, she might be cut to 
 the heart at finding virtue quite as bold as vice, 
 and yet most gentle. This is the feeling which 
 will, I hope, prick her, and do her good." 
 
 " The affair is too notorious to please me. I am 
 more shy now it is past than I was at the doing of it." 
 
 " It is very natural that you should feel so. At 
 the same time, the sensation that it has caused in 
 London pleases me. It shows that the multitude 
 
 u 2
 
 292 Three Wives. 
 
 acknowledge any attempt to purify their manners, 
 and stay the rapid progress of impudent vice and 
 rude arrogance. A few more such scenes, a steady 
 resistance to such encroachments by those who 
 must always reign in London by reason of their 
 position, will do more good than we can conceive." 
 " I have a sort of feeling that people are not, 
 after all, really so bad as they themselves try to 
 prove themselves to be. I think they but weakly 
 follow what is termed the fashion." 
 
 " That is very true. Turn their heads the 
 other way, and giving them a good leader, they 
 will probably follow as obediently as if in harness." 
 As for the effect of the failure of their scheme 
 upon the conspirators, it affected them all three in 
 their different fashions. Lady Rose was alter- 
 nately crying and laughing — crying that she had 
 failed to bring down Lady Silborough to her own 
 level, laughing at the discomfiture of her friend 
 Audrey and Lady Tantan. 
 
 " The scene was as good as a play, Gaby, though 
 how the Automaton ever screwed up her courage 
 to do such a deed, is more than I can say. 'Tis 
 a good child, and its husband having told it it 
 mustn't make friends with naughty people, why, it 
 simply did what it was bid."
 
 Three Wives, 293 
 
 "Whether she was bidden or not, Lady Sil- 
 borough deserves the thanks of all London for her 
 courage. And my mother, who saw it, cannot 
 speak of it without tears in her eyes." 
 
 " I'acknowledge she was not the least offensive 
 in her manner." 
 
 " Offensive, Eose ! If Lady Tautan has any- 
 thing left in her of a woman's heart, Lady Sil- 
 boroucdi's manner ouo-ht to have touched her to the 
 quick. My mother says she reminded her of the 
 fact that virtue looks most beautiful when accom- 
 panied by mercy. If I was Lord Sil, shouldn't I 
 be proud of her !" 
 
 " You have no business to be *proud of anyone 
 but me !" 
 
 " I said if I were Lord Sil." 
 
 Lady Eose pouted to no effect. As she sat 
 alone, pondering over everything, ever and anon 
 rose to her mind the change taking place in Gaby. 
 It even occurred to her there was a certain resem- 
 blance to Lady Silborough in his character— a 
 simplicity and singleness of purpose conspicuous 
 in both, leading them, if a thing was to be done, 
 to do it as best they could. No sort of selfish feel- 
 ing seemed to possess either. Never yet had she 
 persuaded Gaby to borrow a farthing, never could
 
 294 Three Wives. 
 
 she prevail on him to doubt his friends or speak 
 scandal of his enemies. And even in the quiet 
 acknowledgment of the good habit of saying his 
 prayers before he " made a night of it," Lady Rose 
 felt intuitively it was just the sort of "good habit" 
 Lady Silborough would pursue. 
 
 " What a pity it is they did not marry !" she 
 half laughed to herself ; " they might have gone 
 about together, improving the whole world ; while 
 Lord Sil and I would have made it merry." 
 
 But even as she said these words, Lady Rose 
 was forced to acknowledge in her heart she could 
 not have loved Lord Sil as she did Gaby. Long 
 ago she fancied herself in love with him ; but a 
 more intimate knowledge of his character did 
 away with the love ; while it left all the ardent 
 wish strong as ever to have the use of his name 
 and position. 
 
 " It is my vocation to reign, though I had a self- 
 ish, indolent king to reign with me. I wonder 
 what the saintly Elizabeth sees in her'Ha-r-ry' 
 to love him so? She must know he is very infe- 
 rior to herself." 
 
 Lady Rose had started a question which not 
 only she could not answer, but since the world 
 began.it has never been answered. In every age,
 
 Three Wives, 295 
 
 in every state of society, are seen husbands of the 
 highest organization of heart and mind, devotedly 
 in love, and even subservient to wives of so inferior 
 a disposition, it was marvellous to spectators to 
 note the difference and observe the fact. While 
 the number of devoted, loving, long-suffering, ill- 
 used wives might people a heaven of themselves, if 
 a peculiar one was accorded them by way of atone- 
 ment for their miseries. 
 
 Lady Silborough was not the only woman in 
 the world who showed the true quality of her 
 womanhood by seeing in her husband no other 
 character than that of husband, the man she had 
 sworn to love and obey. A feeling of repugnance, 
 as we have chronicled, beset her before she mar- 
 ried him ; but having done so, she did and would 
 cling to him, through weal, through woe, through 
 indifference, ill -temper, estrangement, if such 
 should be her lot. She never stayed or thought 
 to analyze his temperament ; he was her hus- 
 band, a character so sacred as to be beyond 
 impeachment. A most beneficent, merciful gift, 
 somewhat akin to that bountiful, overflowing 
 goodness that looks on all men alike, but seeks 
 diligently for the u lost sheep," leaving the " ninety- 
 nine " safe in the fold to take care of themselves.
 
 296 Three Wives. 
 
 As for Lady Audrey, she was less disappointed 
 than might be supposed at the failure of Lady 
 Rose's plan — in fact, she grimly smiled at it alto- 
 gether. It was such a silly, foolish plan, leading 
 to no great ends. Merely to make her husband a 
 little angry, was not what Lady Audrey desired. 
 The commonest sense in the world could have said 
 he would never separate from his wife, simply be- 
 cause an impudent woman dared to speak to her. 
 She would have had no objection to witness her 
 discomfiture, if she had been discomfited ; but, 
 on the whole, considering she was now a Sil- 
 borough, Lady Audrey was rather glad the woman 
 she hated behaved in a creditable manner. No, 
 no, Lady Audrey had her plan — a private one. 
 She would have no confidants until it w T as all ripe 
 for accomplishment. She had a certain thing to 
 accomplish — namely, a permanent separation be- 
 tween her brother and his wife. This idea occu- 
 pied her night and day, and as it involved the 
 certain restoration of her husband to her society, 
 she was led to think it a most praiseworthy, proper 
 idea. As long as she and her husband were once 
 more united, the separation of any other husband 
 and wife was of no moment to her. What could 
 it matter ? People were always separating now,
 
 Three Wives. 297 
 
 and appeared to care nothing about it. Now, 
 with her it was very different. She was as a body 
 without a soul 3 parted from her darling Buckhurst, 
 and to re-unite them together was not only an 
 absolute necessity, but her bounden duty. If she 
 felt a little qualm at the thought that to do this 
 she must bespatter the illustrious name of Sil- 
 borough with a little ugly mud, after all the end 
 justified the means, anct Sil would soon elevate 
 his head again as high among the multitude as 
 ever. 
 
 So she thought, and planned, and plotted. Al- 
 ready was she secretly working, and not without 
 some degree of sagaciousness. The tenacity of 
 her desire awoke in her a rather stronger amount 
 of wisdom than was usual. At present the effect 
 of this was seen in the banishment of her usual 
 peevishness. She was so amiable and good-tem- 
 pered, that her brother permitted her the run of 
 Silborough House. While the gentle Elizabeth, 
 without experiencing as regarded herself any radical 
 change in Lady Audrey's opinion of her, yet met half 
 way all her clumsy, hypocritical advances towards 
 sisterly affection and confidence. 
 
 As for Lord Silborough, he began rather to like 
 his sister; and having many leisure moments, was
 
 298 Three Wives. 
 
 often in the habit of calling in Green Street, where 
 she had always ready to amuse him the lively 
 Lady Rose ; and if not, she sugared him with little 
 soppets, " such as he loved," of praise of himself 
 and his Elizabeth, little odd bits of scandal, and 
 funny things about town, that Lady Rose catered 
 for her, and which a sister might tell where a friend 
 could not. 
 
 As for Lady Tantan, we have no means of 
 knowing how she took her rebuff. In public 
 she was as noisy and loud as ever, let us hope 
 she often was visited in private by the remem- 
 brance of that gracious, beseeching look, and the 
 fact that if she did not let it enter with subtle 
 power into her heart, a time would come when no- 
 thing would sound more appalling in her ears than 
 the gentle words, " We are not acquainted." " Too 
 late, too late !" 
 
 The time of the Silborough ball was approach- 
 ing. Lord Silborough was a man who liked to 
 occupy his mind in decorations, and part of whose 
 daily business in life was to criticise ladies' dress. 
 Having confided to his sister that he meant his wife's 
 dress at this ball to surpass anything that had 
 been seen in London, she recommended him to 
 consult Lady Rose Raby. Her taste in dress was
 
 Three Wives. 299 
 
 undeniable ; and so it ought to have been, consider- 
 ing the time she devoted to it. 
 
 This advice led to long consultations between 
 Lady Rose and Lord Silborough, and they were 
 seen on several occasions driving about together. 
 If they did not confine their conversation wholly to 
 Lady Silborough's dress, that was clearly no busi- 
 ness of anyone to inquire. They were about a very 
 innocent and praiseworthy object, and if London 
 should chance to espy them, and make a rout, they 
 had only to explain, to have the laugh on their 
 side. 
 
 But London happened at that moment to be oc- 
 cupied by something very notorious and exciting, 
 so the doings of Lord Silborough and Lady Rose 
 escaped observation. They were only watched by 
 the eager, hungry eyes of Lady Audrey, and the 
 more she watched the more was she pleased. If 
 Lady Rose had the not unnatural, and at the same 
 time imprudent idea in her head, of devoting her 
 energies and talents to creating rather a bizarre 
 dress for Lady Silborough, she was wise enough to 
 dismiss it at once from her mind. Lord Silborough 
 knew too much about dress himself to risk deceiv- 
 ing him ; while the firmness of character so lately 
 shown in such a conspicuous manner, would effec-
 
 300 Three Wives. 
 
 tively prevent Lady Silborough from wearing a 
 dress she neither liked nor looked well in. On the 
 contrary, it must be Lady Rose's endeavour to in- 
 crease Lord Silborough's interest in her, by devot- 
 ing herself, as if 'twas a labour of love, to invent- 
 ing, superintending, and, so far as she could, fulfil- 
 ling his wishes even beyond his hopes. 'Tis true, 
 she laughed at herself very often for finding her- 
 self in the ridiculous position of making that wo- 
 man more lovely and admired, whom she would 
 willingly see covered with small-pox, and regarded 
 by nobody. 
 
 " However," she consoled herself with saying, 
 u it cannot be helped ; if I never see her as I wish* 
 her, still Lord Sil is my friend, and I must keep 
 him as such. If I am reduced to shine in any 
 other light than my own, it shall be through him, 
 not her." 
 
 And so, in following out this idea, Lady Rose 
 forgot how "precarious was virtue in London." 
 Feeling certain in her heart she really cared for 
 Gaby, and only envied the position Lord Silbor- 
 ough could have given her, she forgot, like Lady 
 Audrey, that the world was in the dark as to these 
 feelings. They could only judge of what they saw. 
 However, as we said before, fortunately London was
 
 Three Wives. 301 
 
 much engaged at this time. So Lord Silborough 
 and Lady Rose transacted all their business most 
 comfortably. The result of their joint efforts was 
 not only a most exquisite dress for Lady Silbor- 
 ough, but the present to Lady Rose of one for 
 herself. 
 
 " As a small token of my gratitude for all your 
 trouble," said his polite lordship, "and of my regard 
 for the spirit with which you bear your lot." 
 
 Thus, we fear, they had been talking of other 
 things besides dress. As the lace alone on it was 
 worth two or three hundred pounds, the little 
 pauper felt she was greatly rewarded for stifling 
 her envy, and being good-natured, even if no other 
 good befell her. She was strongly minded to have 
 in pink what Lady Silborough was to wear in 
 blue. But prudence prevailed ; and throwing her 
 heart into the matter, she so disposed her lace to 
 suit her prettiness, that when she tried on her 
 dress, to note its effect, she was able to agree with 
 her maid and her milliner. 
 
 u It was the becomingest dress her ladyship ever 
 had. She looked exactly like a beautiful moss-rose 
 bud."
 
 302 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " For hate is chill, and love is warm, 
 And the tale of youth is sweet ; 
 But the west wind tells of a fearful storm 
 That my soul has yet to meet." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 /~\N the morning of the Silborough ball, Lady 
 ^ Rose had a visit from her friend, Lady Au- 
 drey. It was a long and secret conference, of 
 which but a few words reached the public ear. 
 
 " Oh ! as for that," said Lady Rose, " I have 
 no fear. I can soon bring him to the bare act of 
 a tender concern ; but I do not see what you de- 
 sire to effect by it." 
 
 " I did what you told me, going to H 
 
 House. And, you know, you failed there to do 
 what you promised." 
 
 " But we had no idea the simple Elizabeth would 
 show such a spirit." 
 
 " And I want to show her that this spirit, her 
 present popularity, her beauty, and Sil's love for
 
 Three Wives. 303 
 
 her, are not capable of preventing him admiring 
 you." 
 
 " Now, Audrey, I fancy you are not telling me 
 the whole truth. You are keeping back part of 
 your plan, and design to make a cat's-paw of me." 
 
 " If that is your opinion," answered Lady 
 Audrey, with wonderful calmness and presence of 
 mind, " I will say no more. The idea only came 
 into my head last night, because such a scene can 
 only be gone through at Silborough House. But 
 as you don't seem to see it, by all means let the 
 opportunity go." 
 
 " But how do I know," said Lady Rose, nib- 
 bling at the notion, so pleasing to her vanity, of 
 just trying to see if she could not give Lady Sil- 
 borough a little stab of some sort — u how do you 
 know, if I do get him into the library, and work 
 up a scene, that she will come opportunely, as you 
 say f " 
 
 u Of course, I shall take care of that." 
 
 " 'Tis a very clumsy plan, Audrey." 
 
 " I own 'tis not much better than yours, so I'll 
 take my leave." 
 
 " I'll think over it, and send you a little note to 
 say whether I will consent or not." 
 
 " Just as you please. I am going with the
 
 304 Three Wives, 
 
 children to the dancing-school, and shall not be at 
 home until six." 
 
 Lady Audrey felt much like the spider entrap- 
 ping the fly, and went about all the business she 
 had to do with a certainty in her mind she should 
 have a note agreeing to her plan. Her plan ! — 
 had she confided all to Lady Rose ? It is to be 
 feared, by the unusual smile of satisfaction on her 
 face, by a certain odd assumption of intelligence 
 and wisdom which she could not restrain herself 
 from showing, that her plan, though to be helped 
 by Lady Rose, was much deeper, more effective 
 and sure, than that giddy little creature imagined. 
 And though we sometimes see that, by the sim- 
 plest means the greatest effects are produced, it is 
 something wonderful that Lady Audrey should 
 have no misgivings as to the result. She had 
 shown wisdom, forethought, and great forbearance 
 in the arranging and preparing her plan ; and all 
 these qualities so surprised herself, she could not 
 for a moment entertain any idea of failure. 
 
 Like the man who built his ship, and then could 
 not get it out of the dock to launch — or the ama- 
 teur architect who reared the most delightful 
 house, but forgot the staircase — so did Lady Au- 
 drey felicitate herself upon the scheme, born, not
 
 Three Wives. 305 
 
 the night before, as she said, but ever since the 
 cards were out for the Silboroufijh ball, thought 
 over, corrected, examined, brought to perfection, 
 and totally incapable of collapse. And yet, at the 
 onset, Lady Rose had almost failed her. Lady 
 Rose was the power that was to move her ship into 
 the water — Lady Rose was the staircase to her 
 house. She had never for one instant suspected 
 a failure through her, and yet how nearly had it 
 happened ! But she was sure of her now, and 
 after dropping her children at the dancing-school, 
 she went about to different houses, scattering a 
 seed, the fruits of which she hoped to reap that 
 evening. 
 
 Meantime, Lady Rose had another visitor — this 
 time it was her father. In his eyes she read 
 anxiety, not to say unhappiness, but his words 
 were all love and kindness. Not a hint that might 
 be construed into a reproach — not a word that the 
 most sensitive conscience could take, and with it 
 lacerate her heart and temper. 
 
 " Somehow, my darling, I do not feel as strong 
 as I used to do. I do not enjoy life. I can re- 
 member, as a boy, thinking that merely to breathe 
 was delicious ; and now, Rose, I do not seem to 
 care to go to bed, yet still less do I care to rise up 
 in the morning." 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 Three Wives. 
 
 " Dearest papa," said the pretty creature, look- 
 ing still prettier as she hovered lovingly around 
 him, "perhaps you are a little bilious. I have 
 heard it is a very lowering thing. You have no- 
 thing on your mind? — about Adelaide or Sophie?" 
 
 "No, Rose — nothing of either Adelaide or 
 Sophia. And the more I know of your husband 
 the better I like him. How pleasant it is to hear 
 bim always talking of, as he is thinking of, his 
 Rosie ! So unlike some young men !" 
 
 Lady Rose winced. Within these few days 
 Gaby's love had been shaken to its foundation. 
 She could not conceal from herself, either, that 
 though he had forgiven, he could not forget her 
 part in the report circulated about him, or that his 
 love was changing. Perhaps he was becoming 
 like the young men her father talked of, and she 
 was amazed at the pang this thought gave her. 
 But she replied, 
 
 " Indeed, dear papa, he is a very good fellow — 
 perhaps no one but me knows how good." 
 
 Her father's loving tender eyes rested on her 
 for a moment. " Thank God for that !" 
 
 Rose was puzzled at both look and manner. 
 
 " I hear, my dear, from Adelaide, you have a 
 very pretty dress for the ball to-night. I half
 
 Three Wives. 307 
 
 thought to excuse myself ; but I think I must 
 come, to see my pretty Rose in it." 
 
 " Oh ! do, papa ; 'tis the loveliest thing ! Did 
 you hear that Lord Sil borough gave it to me ?" 
 
 li Yes, my dear ; it was very kind of him." 
 
 Lady Rose had wondered to herself for a mo- 
 ment if her father was come to expostulate about 
 her receiving a dress from Lord Silborough, which 
 circumstance she had made no secret. And much 
 as she " doted on dear old pa," she had made up 
 her mind not to forego the wearing of this dress 
 for the love of any one. But it seemed that her 
 father had no such objection to make. Therefore 
 Rose told him the whole history of how and why 
 it had been given her. 
 
 " I am glad, dear, you exerted yourself so much 
 for Lady Silborough. She is a marvellous crea- 
 ture, they tell me." 
 
 " Oh ! no, papa ; she is pretty, and nice, and 
 natural ; but you know what London is — when it 
 takes to like a person, it adores that person." 
 
 " Tis well, Rose, when they adore the right per- 
 son." 
 
 " They used to adore me, you know, papa." 
 
 " My love, you have one great advantage, a hus- 
 band who adores you, and a father whose only 
 
 x2
 
 308 Three Wives. 
 
 happiness now consists in the happiness of his chil- 
 dren." 
 
 " That was what you always said, dear papa ; 
 and your children would be most ungrateful if they 
 caused you grief." 
 
 And it was in this way they talked, simple 
 enough ; but when Lord Alwyn left his daughter, 
 she sat down as nearly miserable as so giddy a 
 heart could be. 
 
 " He fears something for me ; and yet, so un- 
 like mamma, he neither advised nor upbraided me. 
 Has Gaby said anything to him ? Dear, dear 
 papa, I feel as if I could do anything for you ! I 
 cannot bear that unhappy look. Has Audrey 
 been saying anything? I won't do what Audrey 
 wishes — yes, dear papa, I will give it up, to please 
 you. And yet, as Audrey says, 'tis the last oppor- 
 tunity, and I had just come to the conclusion it 
 was not, after all, so bad an idea of Audrey's, just 
 to alarm her about her husband's affection. I 
 should just like to see her as miserable as I am for 
 the minute — of course it would be for no longer. 
 Lord Sil quite treats me as a sister now, he says. 
 And there can be no harm in my saying I have 
 been asking his advice as a brother, and the whole 
 scene in the library, with nobody but Audrey to
 
 Three Wives. 309 
 
 see. And positively this shall be my last attempt. 
 After this I will just submit to my fate. I will be 
 domestic, and perhaps pet Gaby. And, oh, dear 
 me ! there is the child ! I will go in for being a 
 motherly mother. What an absurd creature I am, 
 always wanting to do something out of the com- 
 mon ! But, dear papa, I promise you this. Only 
 just let me have this little bit of fun to-night, and 
 see that too happy, self-complaisant Elizabeth look 
 horrified and scandalized, and I will do nothing 
 for the future but be a pattern of goodness. I 
 am so easily turned and ruled by kindness." 
 
 When Lady Rose applauded herself for this, 
 she seemed to have forgotten the exquisite good- 
 humour of her husband. She only thought of the 
 difference between the bullying of her mother and 
 the tender love of her father. Even when still 
 full of this she wrote the note expected by Lady 
 Audrey, stipulating that if she complied with 
 Audrey's fancy, it was only on condition that 
 Audrey should write back to say that it was at her 
 request she, Lady Rose, sought a private interview 
 with Lord Silborough. To this she received the 
 following reply : 
 
 " My dear Rose, — I entreat you by our friend-
 
 310 Three Wives. 
 
 ship to obtain this favour of my brother, as I feel 
 sure you are the only person to whom he would 
 grant it. Your affectionate friend, 
 
 " Audrey Buckhurst." 
 
 Lady Audrey was as much pleased with this 
 nice, sensible letter of Audrey's, as Lady Audrey 
 was pleased at her diplomacy in writing it. It 
 was her last lure. As for the note ever turning 
 up and compromising her, Lady Audrey indulged 
 in her ugly smile, as she murmured to herself, 
 " You won't have time to think of it, Rose, my 
 dear !" And so they all dressed for the ball, 
 none so calm as Lady Audrey, few so heedless as 
 Lady Rose, and none more happy than Lady Sil- 
 borough, who, radiantly beautiful in her new dress, 
 received her company with so much artless plea- 
 sure and sweetness that they were captivated. 
 
 Lord Silborough's arrangements were all of first- 
 rate order. He felt that the whole of London 
 would talk of him on the morrow — of his beautiful 
 wife, her exquisite dress, his happy arrangements, 
 the loveliness of the flowers, the perfection of the 
 band, the unique character of the supper, with the 
 profusion of costly wines. Yes, he had determined 
 his ball should be the ball of the season, one not
 
 Three Wives, 311 
 
 talked of for a day, and forgotten, but elevated 
 into the dignity of a date, from which people would 
 calculate the more common-place engagements they 
 had to fulfil. And he fully deserved all the praise 
 that was bestowed on his ball. 
 
 " This is like fairy-land !" observed Bene to his 
 grandmamma. 
 
 "And no fairy-land ever had a lovelier queen," 
 she replied. " Who could have imagined a London 
 sitting-room turned into such a lovely scene I" 
 
 And their opinions might be heard in every part 
 of the room. 
 
 At one o'clock all their admiration and delight 
 broke out afresh. For a large curtain was with- 
 drawn, and it seemed as if the company looked far 
 into a beautiful garden, wherein were innumer- 
 able bowers, in which were tables laden with costly 
 and bright things to please the eye, with everything 
 the wildest fancy could long for to delight the palate. 
 
 Nobody ate a better or more substantial supper 
 than Lady Audrey. She was approaching the 
 happy moment of achieving her wishes, and she 
 had not the least apprehension as to failure. Nay, 
 she was more secure than ever, for Sil, her dear 
 brother, a little intoxicated with flattery and ap- 
 plause, was also a little But he was to be ex-
 
 312 Three Wives. 
 
 cused. lie had been acting the hospitable host, 
 and taking so many dowagers in to supper, and 
 having to drink wine with each, he was for a few 
 moments — it would soon go off if he did not go in 
 to supper again — just a little merry. 
 
 " Sil," whispered his sister, " poor Lady Rose, 
 she has had no supper yet." 
 
 " No supper ! How is that ? Rose, come along 
 with me. It would be a blot on my name for 
 ever if you, of all people, did not enjoy my ball." 
 
 He was certainly very merry — never had he so 
 far forgotten Sil borough hauteur as to lose his own 
 individuality and manners, and to call her Rose 
 before so many people ! The vanity of Lady Rose 
 was such, that whether a man had all his senses, or 
 only a part, still she accepted his homage with 
 pride and delight. 
 
 Lord Silborough drank some more champagne, 
 and called her Rose again. Nothing could be 
 better. As she rose from the supper-table, she 
 whispered that she wanted a word with him on an 
 important matter alone. He clasped her arm 
 warmly under his. Lady Rose was not without a 
 qualm that he required her support to steady him- 
 self, when, saying, " Come along to my room," he 
 took her there.
 
 Three Wives. 189 
 
 What was Lady Kose's important business never 
 transpired, but Lady Silborough, having been told 
 by Audrey her husband wanted her in his room, 
 went swiftly there. Her soft, floating draperies 
 made as little noise as her soft footfall ; and as she 
 entered the room, her face all b*eaming, she saw 
 Lady Rose standing with her back to the door, 
 both hands on Lord Silborough's shoulders, while 
 he, full fronting Elizabeth, had a hand placed on 
 each side of Lady Rose's face, and, even at the 
 very moment of his wife's entrance into the room, 
 he stooped and kissed the pretty pouting lips held 
 up to his. 
 
 There was a large mirror behind Lord Sil- 
 borough, which reflected not only his figure, but 
 that of the astonished Elizabeth. A little mischie- 
 vous face was reflected over his shoulder, who 
 gave an affected cry, as it seemed to catch sight of 
 the figure in the doorway, but so far from shrinking 
 out of Lord Silborough's embrace, she only clung 
 the closer. And thus they stood, each apparently 
 stiffened into the rigidity of marble ; except those 
 wicked, mischievous eyes reflected in the mirror. 
 " Oh ! " thought the owner of them, " if she will 
 only cry out, scream, do anything to show me I 
 have irritated her at last ! "
 
 314 Three Wives. 
 
 There was a movement, it was a catching of the 
 slender fingers, as if endeavouring to collect the 
 long folds of her dress. 
 
 " She will turn and fly," thought Lady Rose, 
 vexed. 
 
 At that moment a buzz of voices sounded ; they 
 came nearer — at once into the passage leading to 
 the room. 
 
 " Yes, Lord Alwyn, 'tis too true, I fear. I beg 
 you and Mrs. Raby will accompany me, to convict 
 her and help poor Lady Silborough. My brother's 
 infatuation is dreadful ! " 
 
 In half a moment of time Lady Rose perceived 
 that she was indeed a cat's-paw. The stupid, dun- 
 der-headed Lady Audrey had been too many for 
 her. In the same half second there rose before her 
 the intolerable anguish of shame and exposure, the 
 unutterable misery of the chance of a separation 
 from her darling Gaby, merely for an act of folly. 
 The words broke from her lips, while she turned 
 as white as the woman she meant to humble : u I 
 am lost — lost !" 
 
 In a moment Elizabeth came to life, as it were. 
 She was by their side in an instant. 
 
 i{ Sit down, Rose," she said calmly. " Your 
 hair is tumbled. Harry, give me the comb."
 
 Three Wives. 315 
 
 When Lady Audrey entered like an insane re- 
 presentation of Tragedy, her eyes glaring, followed 
 by Lord Alwyn, Mrs. Raby, and several more peo- 
 ple, the sight that presented itself was simple 
 enough. Lady Rose was on a low seat — Lady 
 Silborough was smoothing her hair. My lord was 
 lollino; in an arm-chair. 
 
 Lady Silborough glanced up and read in the 
 countenance of Lady Audrey, and some of those 
 crowding in, that somehow they did not believe in 
 their own eye-sight, and, moreover, did not intend 
 to believe in it. Something more must be done 
 to convince them. 
 
 Elizabeth turned Lady Rose's face towards her, 
 as if to see that her hair was properly arranged, 
 and then with her girlish laugh, so sweetly, softly 
 gay and musical, suddenly stooped, and with her 
 pure lips took away the kiss that ought never to 
 have been placed on those of Lady Rose. Then 
 turning with her bright smile to Lord Alwyn, as if 
 in excuse for the act, said, 
 
 " She looks so pretty to-night. Now, Harry, 
 your partner is ready." 
 
 Lord Silborough, with the Silborough dignity in 
 highest force, came forward, and offered his arm ; 
 and Lady Rose, with a charming grace, rose and
 
 316 Three Wives. 
 
 put the tips of her fingers on the arm offered, and 
 with a little playful tap of the fan on dear, darling 
 papa's shoulder, they both went off, as decorous 
 and highly-bred a couple as could be seen. Lord 
 Alwyn was about to say something, and Mrs. Raby 
 seemed eager, but both were stopped by Lady Sil- 
 borough. 
 
 " Rose's hair came down ; my lord brought her 
 here, and sent for me to remedy the matter. You 
 may be sure I did my best, seeing how much in- 
 debted I am to your Rose for the beauty of my 
 dress." 
 
 Lord Alwyn's eyes assumed a joyful, happy look, 
 Mrs. Raby's brow cleared, the rest of the crowd 
 rushed back to the ball-room ; they had been 
 called to see something most particular, and there 
 was nothing, and they were losing all the fun of 
 the dancing. 
 
 Lady Audrey was sitting down a little stupefied, 
 but still somehow convinced her fine plot had suc- 
 ceeded. The morrow would prove it. 
 
 " Lady Silborough, permit me to say how much 
 happiness it gives me to see the terms you are on 
 with our pretty, foolish, wayward Rose. You are 
 not the person to kiss another, if you do not love 
 her."
 
 Three Wives. 317 
 
 " Thank you, Mrs. Raby, for your kind opinion. 
 I have to thank her for taking my duty in the 
 yacht, making the voyage so much more pleasant 
 for my lord. I am going now just to take a peep 
 at my children. Will you come with me ?" 
 
 Nugent was awake. " My mumsey promised to 
 come and see me, so I lay awake. But, mumsey, 
 darling, how pale you look !"
 
 318 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " Far more it imports men to know, 
 To feel, to prove each other's worth, 
 Than on that fame their thoughts bestow 
 
 To which the past has given birth. 
 Call forth the living spirit's power, 
 And use them for this world of ours." 
 
 Mrs. C. Tinsley. 
 
 TITHEN Lady Silborough, with Mrs. Eaby, re- 
 * " turned to the ball-room, they found the 
 Duke of Stradarven apparently waiting for them. 
 
 " My dance, I think," said he. 
 
 As Mrs. Raby passed on into the crowd, a much 
 happier woman than when she left it, Bene said to 
 Elizabeth, 
 
 "There is a very ugly report percolating all 
 through the ball-room. I have had to order Gaby 
 into the custody of Nubs and Nigger, to keep him 
 quiet. I promised him to speak to you." 
 
 " What can I do f she said anxiously.
 
 Three Wives. 319 
 
 " I have traced the report to Lady Audrey ; it 
 seems it has been smouldering for some days, and 
 burst into flame to-night." 
 
 u Shall we get up a counter report ?" 
 
 " Excellent, Lady Silborough — I will go to the 
 bottom of the room and spread it. Will you go 
 and sit by my grandmother — it will be up at the 
 top of the room before I get there." 
 
 "It must be something a little uncommon." 
 
 " Will you do me the honour to let it be about 
 you and me ?" 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 "And you will endorse it by a little scene with 
 me when I join you again ?" 
 
 "Of disdain?" 
 
 "Yes — of the most scornful nature." 
 
 They separated. On Hearing the bottom of the 
 ball-room, where a desperate chattering and excite- 
 ment were going on, Bene was greeted with a 
 chorus of voices, saying, 
 
 " Here's the Duke ! — here is Stradarven ! — he 
 will be sure to know. Bene, Bene, what is all this 
 about Lord Silborough and Lady Rose?" 
 
 " Lady Rose ! — I wish it was Lady Rose," he 
 replied. 
 was she angry ? — who discovered them ? Well, I
 
 320 Three Wives, 
 
 " My dear fellow, don't look in such a state of 
 utter despair ! Is it Lord Sil? What has he done?" 
 
 " Lord Sil !— would that it were Lord Sil ! Let 
 me pass — I must go home." 
 
 A mysterious instinct, or a sort of free-masonry 
 sign, roused the Baby, who was lounging with 
 Doodleums on a luxurious settee. 
 
 " Poor fellow !" murmured Baby ; " I was afraid 
 he would be done for to-nio;ht." 
 
 " She is so dangerously lovely, and so allur- 
 ingly good," responded Doodleums, in his indolent 
 voice. 
 
 The two linked their arms together, and began 
 to prepare to pass through the crowd. 
 
 " Who is so lovely, so good ? — what is it ? — who 
 is the victim ? Do tell me — oh ! pray tell me ! — 
 I never let out secrets — what has happened ?" 
 
 " Poor Bene !" murmured Baby. 
 
 " Too lovely Lady Silborough," responded Doo- 
 dleums. " Goodness gracious ! — God bless my soul ! 
 — then 'tis nothing to do with Lord Sil and Lady 
 Rose. No, how can you think such a thing? — they 
 were dancing together a moment ago. But the 
 Duke and Lady Silborough — who would have 
 thought it ? What happened, do you know ? — 
 Were they in the study? — he on his knees? —
 
 Three Wives. 321 
 
 am not surprised. People of cold, stiff manners 
 are often like sky-rockets, and go off with nothing 
 but a puff." 
 
 u Doodleums," murmured Baby, " what a pity 
 it is to see the young creatures so eager after this 
 sort of thing, and so ready to believe it." 
 
 " They are not young, Baby, nor are they wo- 
 men — they are little demons in disguise." 
 
 Again a torrent of questions, a shower of won- 
 ders, exclamations, and sundry more of little de- 
 mon remarks. 
 
 " I always thought her sly," said a childish voice, 
 coming out of a very youthful mouth. 
 
 " You little pitiful thing," said another young- 
 voice, low and concentrated with repressed anger, 
 " go to bed, child ; and if you can look as high as 
 the stars, see the difference there is between you 
 and Lady Silborough." 
 
 Baby turned to look at the speaker. 
 
 " The voice was that of Lady Adelaide Alwyn," 
 whispered Doodleums. 
 
 " Lady Adelaide," said Baby, looking over the 
 crowd, " engaged next dance ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Do me the honour f 
 
 " With much pleasure." 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 Three Wives, 
 
 " Lady Adelaide," said Doodleums, " have you a 
 gallo for me V 
 
 " Yes— one." 
 
 " Thanks." 
 
 " She deserves to be noticed. We must tell 
 Bene of her, he must also ask her to dance." 
 
 " He must. As for the little Demons, if they 
 wait for us as partners, they are likely to dance no 
 more to-night." 
 
 " Poor little Demons ! — if they only knew what 
 we see coming out of their mouths when they 
 speak thus, Baby !" 
 
 u They would see that which they are, Doodle- 
 ums." 
 
 Meantime, the chattering and confusion were 
 great. By the time Baby and Doodleums 
 reached the upper end of the room, they found a 
 dense crowd watching with breathless interest the 
 Duke enter by a side door. He advanced, then 
 retired ; finally he appeared to make an effort, and 
 with an air most deeply, humbly penitent and de- 
 ferential, he approached Lady Silborough, and 
 asked her to dance. 
 
 " No," she answered, shortly and abruptly. 
 
 Apparently he fled, as if stricken by a blow. 
 But, after an hour or so, he was discovered danc-
 
 Three Wives. 323 
 
 ing, full of life and spirits, with Lady Adelaide 
 Alwyn. 
 
 As for the multitude, being quite ready to swal- 
 low one bit of scandal, they found two too many. 
 They were puzzled and confounded. Those who 
 wished to see Lady Rose in a mess inclined to her 
 scandal ; those who had a delight in witnessing 
 the high brought low, were eager about the Silbo- 
 rough affair ; but, unable to get at the real facts 
 of either, finally forgot both, in the eager desire to 
 make the most of this, the best ball of the 
 season. 
 
 " Thank you, Baby — I am charmed with you, 
 my excellent Doodleums. One fire, they say, 
 puts out another, so Lady Silborough and I con- 
 cocted a scandal which should smother the other." 
 
 " A capital idea, Bene ; her rebuff to you was 
 inimitable, but I see you have made it up." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, she is most forgiving. Where is our 
 poor Gaby?" 
 
 " He has gone home — Lady Rose was tired." 
 
 u I think Gaby is going to be a happier man — I 
 should not wonder but Gaby will turn out a very 
 happy man." 
 
 u No one deserves it more." 
 
 " No one." 
 
 y 2
 
 324 Three Wit 
 
 es. 
 
 " Sil is beginning to look bored. I think he 
 wishes us all in bed." 
 
 " Let us go and compliment him on his ball — 
 Sil loves a little soothing." 
 
 " The best soothing is to tell him we are going. 
 I fear, poor fellow, he will have a headache in the 
 morning." 
 
 " 'Tis daylight now. Look at it paling the 
 lamps, and making every girl look hideous but our 
 lovely hostess." 
 
 " What a love she is !" 
 
 And so this famous ball ended. 
 
 What passed between Lord and Lady Silbo- 
 rough, when left to themselves, nobody knows. 
 What passed between Lady Audrey and her pil- 
 low has never been divulged. What passed be- 
 tween Gaby and his Rose could easily be seen. 
 She cried herself to sleep on his bosom, and he 
 arose in the morning the happiest of men. He 
 brought his own sweet little darling Rose a cup of 
 tea, and with it a note. 
 
 " Oh ! Gaby, 'tis from her, Lady Silborough — 
 I dare not open it !" 
 
 " I dare," said Gaby the fearless. 
 
 This was the contents of this fearful note : —
 
 Three Wives. 325 
 
 " Dear Rose, — Will you drive out with me to- 
 day ? Come to luncheon. Your affectionate 
 " Elizabeth Silborough." 
 
 " Oh ! Gaby, I dare not go alone ; she will up- 
 braid me." 
 
 " You shall go alone," said Gaby the arbitrary ; 
 " and she won't upbraid you," added Gaby the 
 confident. 
 
 Lady Rose went, her heart palpitating. Eliza- 
 beth met her on the stairs, kissed her, and said, 
 
 " Come with me — I have something to show 
 you." 
 
 She opened a door, which disclosed a nursery. 
 A baby girl in the cradle, Nugent on the floor, 
 amusing an eighteen-months old boy, more lovely 
 than a cherub. 
 
 " Have you three children ?" began Lady Rose, 
 but a cry of joy from the baby-boy arrested her. 
 He held out his arms to her. She looked — she 
 started — she ran. " My boy ! — my boy ! — my own 
 little darling, and he knew me !" 
 
 If ever penitent but joyful tears were shed, they 
 fell on the curls of the beautiful boy. 
 
 " His papa sent him your picture, my lady, and 
 w r e taught him to love it."
 
 326 Three Wives. 
 
 So all the people that went into the Park that 
 day, with the remains of headache, and a night- 
 mare of the two bits of scandal, got rid of both — 
 the one by means of the fresh air, and the other 
 from seeing the beautiful Lady Silborough and 
 the lovely Lady Rose sitting in the same carriage. 
 And it was supposed they had caught Cupid him- 
 self, barely two years old, who, carefully guarded 
 by little Lord Nugent, was for ever putting up his 
 pretty little mouth to be kissed by Lady Rose, 
 crowing u Mum, mum, mum," in baby but loving 
 fashion.
 
 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 " For my soul is now at peace. All the trouble of my spirit 
 Was but the consecrated means in its guidance to the 
 
 right; 
 And if I have much suffered, 'twas according to my merit. 
 I trust the good in all." 
 
 M. J. Ewen. 
 
 ATEVERTHELESS, stern Justice demanded a 
 -*-* victim. Was it Lord Silborough ? Too 
 much eating and drinking, too much champagne 
 over night, the anxiety and trouble of his ball, and 
 a secret and bitter mortification known but to him- 
 self and two others, were altogether sufficient to 
 disturb the healthful condition of the strongest 
 man. But Lord Silborough was perfectly well. 
 
 Was it Lady Rose, who, tear-stained and re- 
 morse-stricken, succumbed to a sudden attack of 
 fever, which caused grave apprehensions as to the 
 result? Lady Rose was pale and languid, but 
 utterly free from the slightest symptoms of fever. 
 
 Was it Lady Audrey? Blind as Justice is sup-
 
 328 Three Wives. 
 
 posed to be, at least she might have seen that, if 
 there was to be a victim, Lady Audrey was the 
 one. Spending her night in alternate fits of anger 
 and mortification, she ought to have been found in 
 the morning, tearing her hair, and in all the frenzy 
 of insanity. From her home in Green Street Jus- 
 tice ought to have accompanied her to a madhouse, 
 and left her there for time indefinite. 
 
 But Lady Audrey, with crumpled brow and 
 wistful expression, looking more peevish, dolorous, 
 and yellow than ever, sat reading her husband's 
 last letter for the hundredth time, and slowly com- 
 ing to the conclusion for the hundredth time that 
 her darling Buckhurst wrote the coolest, most un- 
 husbandlike, selfish letter that ever was penned. 
 Here had she, with intense thought and labour, 
 got up a plan and plot which she had every hope 
 would lead to their being once more united at Sil- 
 borough House, again in possession, from the fact 
 that Lady Silborough was separated from her hus- 
 band, and he wrote to say the life he was leading 
 was exactly to his mind ; he felt quite young again 
 away from homely, antiquated England, with its 
 obsolete, unrefined ideas — that he did not wonder 
 it was an un marrying age — there was nothing so 
 pleasant and agreeable as a bachelor's life, &c, &c.
 
 Three Wives. 329 
 
 Perhaps Justice was right in saying Lady Aud- 
 rey was sufficiently punished for her ridiculous 
 plot (though so nearly irreparable), by having her 
 heart slowly lacerated from the conviction, if her 
 darling Buckhurst ever had loved her, he certainly 
 did not love her now. 
 
 No, neither of these three was the victim de- 
 manded by Justice ; for a horrid rumour spread 
 from one end of London to the other that the 
 lovely, joyous, exquisite Lady Silborough lay at 
 the point of death. Carriage after carriage drove 
 up to the door, each anxious inquirer noting the 
 significant fact that straw was laid to and from 
 the house as far as the eye could see; and the hall- 
 porter, keeping an open door, whispered back, as if 
 he feared his voice might penetrate the sick-cham- 
 ber, to each inquiry, 
 
 "My lady is very ill." 
 
 London, let us do it the justice to say, was 
 shocked and in mourning for one whole day. 
 
 Oh ! Justice, blind, stupid creature, why take 
 the victim to molest, and not her tormentors? Oh! 
 foolish, vain mortal, canst thou fathom the mind 
 of the Lord, and note the means He useth to " de- 
 liver His people from evil f" Go up to the courts 
 of Heaven, where the ministering angels stand
 
 330 Three Wives. 
 
 around, waiting in joyful expectation to fulfil the 
 purpose of the Lord. Satan presents himself as 
 in the time of Job, and accounts for what he has 
 been doing, walking to and fro in the world. 
 
 " Hast thou seen that mortal, heaped up to the 
 lips with riches, honours, happiness, and glory V 
 
 "Yet is he but dust and ashes after all !" laughed 
 Satan. 
 
 " He will awaken ; the godly wife hath saved 
 the husband." 
 
 " He laughs at the venial fault he committed." 
 
 " He shall have yet another chance. Go, smite 
 his wife." 
 
 " Will he care f He will provide himself with 
 another." 
 
 " Go, breathe into the souls of these people." 
 
 And straightway three angels, with swift and 
 powerful wings joyfully made their way to earth. 
 One entered the sick-chamber. 
 
 "Yes, my lord, doubtless that was it — in her 
 ladyship's delicate situation the fatigue of the ball 
 was too much for her." 
 
 The angel drew near, and breathed into the 
 soul of the gentle Elizabeth ; she obeyed the in- 
 stinct placed there. 
 
 " No, no," she murmured, putting out her feeble
 
 Three Wives. 331 
 
 arm, and drawing her husband's ear close to her 
 lips. " No, it was no fatigue — it was the shock. 
 Oh ! Harry, I thought I had lost you for ever and 
 ever !" Then her pallid face became like death, 
 cold dews burst on her forehead, and with solemn 
 pathetic fervour she repeated, "For ever and ever." 
 
 The eye of the needle was passed. The veil fell 
 from Lord Silborough's insensible heart, and show- 
 ed him to himself, the common dust and ashes of 
 the meanest man. 
 
 That " for ever and ever" smote upon his heart 
 with such subtle power, it melted it at once. What 
 had he ever clone on which to think during that 
 " ever and ever" ? He seemed to feel as if his soul 
 was taken from him, and thrown up into the air, 
 like a bubble. On the right hand was a glorious 
 light, from whence emanated the most beautiful 
 rays, which, darting forward, strove to penetrate 
 and catch the foolish, restless bubble. But it floated, 
 danced, and sprang nearer and nearer to the left, 
 where was a black and hideous chasm, down which 
 countless bubbles were drawn with a seemingly ir- 
 resistible power. u Save me, my God !" he murmur- 
 ed, as his soul seemed to make a feeble grasp, and 
 missing a ray of light, took a headlong leap the 
 other way.
 
 332 Three Wives. 
 
 Then the whole of heaven seemed opened ; a 
 brighter, stronger, more luminous ray rolled like a 
 ball of fire to the miserable soul, and tenderly took 
 it into its splendour. 
 
 Lord Silborough bowed his head in the deepest 
 humiliation upon the hands of his wife as he mur- 
 mured, 
 
 " My darling, you are too good for me. Teach 
 me, Elizabeth, to love Virtue as you do, that I may 
 learn to abhor Vice. Oh ! my wife, what an inesti- 
 mable thing must that goodness be, that the want 
 of it in me has caused you this shock !" 
 
 Justice unveiled her eyes for a moment, as if to 
 demand justice for herself. 
 
 The angel, satisfied, joyfully returned to heaven. 
 The impulses for good had been taken and given, 
 and were already bearing fruit. 
 
 Lady Rose, sick at heart, desiring to die instead 
 of the woman she had so long envied, was alone in 
 the Nutshell. For three days she had gone no- 
 where but to make inquiries at Silborough House. 
 Gaby was on duty,but she was expecting him home. 
 She heard him come, and go up at once to his 
 dressing-room, to change his dress. She followed 
 to her own room. In a short time she fancied she 
 heard voices in Gaby's room, and went in. But
 
 Three Wives. 333 
 
 he was alone ; the good, warm-hearted Gaby was 
 on his knees, praying earnestly — so earnestly that 
 he spoke aloud. 
 
 Rose went into the room ; an angel accompanied 
 her; she knelt by her husband, and the angel 
 hovered over them, while they prayed for the life 
 of the gentle Elizabeth. Then, as they rose from 
 their knees, the angel breathed into the soul of 
 Lady Rose, and straightway bore up their prayers 
 to heaven. 
 
 "My darling," murmured Rose, "I have had 
 such a lesson to-day upon the folly of trusting the 
 world. It has done more to open my eyes than 
 anything else could ; and if so, the illness of the 
 matchless Elizabeth, provided she recovers, will 
 have proved the means of my cure." 
 
 "I have just sent," said her husband, " to make 
 the last inquiries for the night." 
 
 " Thanks, my own good fellow. And now hear 
 this. You know so-and-so and so-and-so, what 
 excellent good people they are, or were supposed to 
 be, and yet they are as heartless as the rest. They 
 called here to-day, and of course I could not help 
 speaking of Lady Silborough. 
 
 " ' Oh ! yes ; by-the-by,' said one, ' is she dead 
 yet!'
 
 334 Three Wices. 
 
 u c No, I think not. I hope she won't die, but 
 live, and give us just such another ball,' said 
 another. 
 
 " ' 'Tis very stupid,' said a third, { to die in the 
 middle of the season ; it puts so many people into 
 mourning.' 
 
 " ' Oh ! but people are more sensible now ; they 
 retire for a week, to come out fresher than ever, or 
 they run over to Paris.' 
 
 " Oh ! dear, dear Gaby, as they talked some- 
 thing whispered to me I was just like them. All 
 of them, not three days ago raving about Elizabeth, 
 whom I now acknowledge without a demur to be 
 as superior to me as the stars to a daisy ; and yet 
 she was forgotten already, spoken of as dead, or 
 merely to be remembered as the giver of a good 
 ball, though she was to be blamed for dying incon- 
 veniently. Ah ! here is a messenger. A note 
 from Lord Sil himself. i God be thanked, my 
 dear kind friends, He has been most merciful to 
 me. My Elizabeth is out of danger. Thank Him 
 on your knees for your happy S.' " 
 
 And it is after this fashion that the Almighty 
 wrestles continually with the evil in the heart of 
 man, whose " every thought is lighter than vanity 
 itself."
 
 Three Wives. 335 
 
 The ministerino; angels stand round in mute 
 adoration, longing to speed on the merciful errand 
 of breathing the will of the Almighty into the reck- 
 less, insensible souls of His erring creatures. How 
 fruitlessly often, the heart of man knows for itself. 
 
 Yet by slight means, by a tender word, by a 
 sudden impulse, by the commonest incident, can- 
 not every soul say to itself, "By this did the 
 Almighty deliver me from evil." 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY MACDONALD AND TUG WELL, BLENHEIM HOUSE.