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 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 u-' 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 c. THE HEIRESS"" THE MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER'' 
 
 '« THE PRINCE AND THE PEDLAR," 
 
 " NAN DARRELL," &c. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. & W. BOONE, 29, NEW BOND STREET. 
 1839.
 
 Printed by T. C. Newby, Angel Hill, Bury.
 
 
 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ^ TiiE cloth had been removed, the dessert 
 
 placed, the fire stirred, and the butler had left 
 
 4 the apartment more than five minutes, yet not 
 
 ^< one word had been spoken by either of the 
 
 two gentlemen who sat at opposite ends of 
 
 the table, placed with mathematical exactitude 
 
 ' in the centre of the large dining room at 
 
 : Rolleston Court. He who sat at the lower 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 end %vas a young man of pleasing exterior, 
 though on the present occasion his whole 
 demeanour shewed anxiety and emban'ass- 
 ment; — he who presided was of middle age 
 with features fine but stern ; a dark complex- 
 ion, and an eye that instead of sometimes 
 melting into softness, then kindling into joy 
 or anger, seemed ever lit by an inward flame 
 bright yet chilling to the beholder ; burning, 
 with the steady and concentrated force of the 
 furnace, not flashing with the fitful blaze of 
 the fire. It was an eve from which the 
 hypocrite turned with an involuntary feeling 
 of self conviction ; — beneath which the timid 
 trembled, certain of meeting with no sym- 
 pathy ; — in which the suffering read no hope 
 of pity or assistance ; — of which the mean and 
 base dared not encounter a second glance. 
 Even those who could meet that eye with an 
 unquailing look did not wish to measure their 
 strength with his, but returned his courtesy 
 with a courtesy as stately.
 
 THE FRrGIlT. 3 
 
 It was rarely, very rarely that his glance 
 grew keener than usual, or that he appeared to 
 take more pains to fathom the plans or the 
 character of one person than another; and 
 it was this which rendered his searchins: 
 look more striking and more awful : — it was 
 so steady — so unvarying. He never seemed 
 to be puzzled in deciphering a chr-^acter by 
 any deception or inconsistency, a nd rarely 
 shewed any sign of triumph at his success. 
 To see and to read appeared to him the same. 
 The motives of the human mind (more diffi- 
 cult to understand than the hieroglyphics of 
 ancient Egypt) were to him clear and easy as 
 the first lessons of the primer. His penetra- 
 tion was not merely individual, but universal ; 
 intuitive, not acquired ; seldom avowed in 
 words to others, and still more seldom em- 
 ployed for personal profit or ambition. Either 
 there was no softness in his spirit, or that 
 keen eye never shewed it ; — either he found no 
 noble motives in the human mind, or love to 
 B 2
 
 4 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 God and love to man, having no responsive 
 chords within his own bosom, awoke no sym- 
 pathy in look or tone. This stern expression 
 was little altered whether he contemplated the 
 sublime or the commonplace ; the beautiful or 
 the distorted ; the smiles of affection or the 
 frowns of envy and malice. You might fancy 
 him the hero of some ancient legend, and 
 believe that he had bartered his soul to the 
 evil one for the power of reading hearts at a 
 glance, and like all traffickers with the arch 
 fiend had gained by his bargain neither profit 
 nor pleasure. He had acquired the power of 
 seeing — but lost the power of enjoying; he 
 looked on the base and mean with contempt, 
 but he felt no sympathy with the high and 
 the noble ; — he lived unloving and unloved. 
 
 Such at least was the character given of Mr. 
 RoUeston by one who had occasionally been 
 staying in his house, (a friend of his nephew's 
 Mr. Trevyllian) but as Captain Rawdon was 
 young and lively, and full of sympathies and an-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 5 
 
 tipathies, and a little inclined to exaggeration 
 his account must be received with considerable 
 limitations. 
 
 " You judge my uncle too severely/' was 
 Trevyllian's remark three days before sitting 
 opposite that uncle in his own dining room, 
 as already described, having accidentally over- 
 heard his friend's summing up of Mr. 
 Rolleston's imperfections. "He has ever 
 been kind to me in essentials, and often in 
 trifles, though I admit an occasional sternness 
 in manner. The fact is, Rawdon, that to 
 your mercurial spirit the mathematical pre- 
 cision and stately regularity of the proprietor 
 and household of Rolleston were absolute 
 martyrdom ; and you were so surprised and 
 annoyed at my uncle's finding out that you 
 were quizzing him, instead of being the dupe, 
 as you believed, of your deferential compli- 
 ments, that you consider his penetration more 
 minute and universal than it really is.'* 
 
 " There may be something in that," replied
 
 6 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 his friend with a laugh, " for I really do 
 believe had I stayed there much longer that I 
 should have been transformed into one of the 
 high backed formal chairs, or at best, into 
 such a ^ mechanised automaton^ as the very 
 particular old butler, or the very starch old 
 housekeeper. I began to fancy that I could 
 not move of my own free will and power, but 
 must submit to be properly placed by the 
 footman. My arms commenced growing out 
 in angles like the arms of an easy chair — I 
 felt the housemaid rubbing my legs with the 
 duster — and acquired such a stiffness in the 
 back that I have since been several times mis- 
 taken for a drill Serjeant ; to say nothing of 
 mortally offending my ancient aunt. Lady 
 Susan Hartupp, by making only a slight 
 inclination of the head, instead of the courtier 
 like bow of my younger days. If I had not 
 sometimes rushed out of the room and taken 
 a scamper down the alleyed walks, to the 
 horror of the old gardener, and the injury of
 
 THE FRIGHT, 
 
 his clipped yew hedges, over which I leapt, 
 or through which I scrambled to convince 
 myself that I had the power of locomotion, I 
 should certainly have been transformed to 
 wood or stone by your uncle^s keen, unvarying 
 gaze. Not that he seemed to look at me as 
 if he wished to see me, but simply because he 
 could not help it ; and thus he seemed to look 
 at every body. Then his remark without the 
 slightest bitterness of tone or change of 
 feature ; — ^ Young man you are wasting your 
 time and talents, I am not the dupe you think 
 me,' — after I had been playiii'^ deferential 
 and pohte for the last two hours to persuade 
 him to let you enter the army, as you desired, 
 was the most awful rebuke I ever encountered. 
 I shiver at the remembrance even now — it was 
 so fearfully unearthly ; as if he were of ano- 
 ther mould— above man's weaknesses and his 
 delights ;--seeing through all— feeling with 
 none. I doubt if he ever forgave me, yet he 
 shewed no triumph] at my overwhelming
 
 8 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 confusion, of "wlilch I ^vas myself ashamed. 
 The only symptom of humanity I ever dis- 
 covered uas once when I had been praising 
 you to another, and accidentally turning round 
 on your uncle, fancied that his lips had un- 
 curled into something like an approving smile 
 — the semblance of a sunbeam; but his eye 
 remained the same ; and before I could decide 
 touching the mouth, to my entire satisfaction, 
 the lips had resumed their usual stern com- 
 pression. If he can love any one, Trevyllian, 
 it is you ; but rely not on his affection should 
 your wishes clash with his ; I mean not in 
 trifles — he is above those ; and there is a 
 grandeur in his formality which, making it 
 almost sublime, redeems it from ridicule. He 
 is not fidgety — scarcely formal in little things ; 
 — his particularity seems rather the excess of 
 order — a mathematical precision carried to an 
 extreme ; — the clearest perception guided and 
 governed by the sternest decision ; — the ideal 
 trampled beneath the real. Either he never
 
 THE FRIGHT. » 
 
 had affections like other men, or he is the 
 most obdurate despot, the most tyrannical 
 tyrant over his own heart that the world ever 
 saw ; and if so, I envy not such despotism. I 
 would rather sympathise with friends, than 
 govern slaves. But you are hurt, Trevyllian, 
 so 1 will not annalyse your uncle further, but 
 say as I said before, if he can love any he loves 
 you; only adding my previous warning not 
 to rely on his affection should your wishes 
 clash." 
 
 '^ You are wrong in your judgment, Raw« 
 don, as I can prove. Though at first much 
 averse to my marriage, from not holding the 
 fair sex in very high estimation, finding that 
 my happiness depended on the union, he has 
 since given his consent.^* 
 
 " Granted permission, I have no doubt, 
 with that saturnine look with which he grants 
 every request to which he vouchsafes a graci- 
 ous reply ; a look which says as plainly as 
 words could say ; — ^ Take what you want, you 
 
 B 5
 
 10 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 will soon rue the gift !' — in short, just such a 
 look as when he gave me leave to launch the 
 canoe on his lake, aware that within five 
 minutes I should be floundering among the 
 fish; invading the regions of the Naiads/^ 
 obsers'ed Captain Rawdon. 
 
 "Finish the story/' said his friend, " and add, 
 that, by his exertions, you were saved from 
 becoming food for those very fish ; or torn to 
 pieces by the infuriated Naiads/^ 
 
 " He could not, in common decency, see his 
 nephew^s friend and his own guest drowned 
 without making an attempt to save him : — had 
 he done so he might have been convicted at 
 the coroner's inquest of unjustifiable homi- 
 cide. Think how derogatory such a proceed- 
 ing would have been to his dignity ! There, 
 you need not look so grave, and I will do him 
 full justice on this point, at least, and admit 
 that he swam towards me with the speed of a 
 friend, and dragged me out with the resolute 
 grasp of a foe, shewing a motherly anxiety for
 
 THK FRIGHT. 11 
 
 my I'ecovery, as the old housekeeper so pa- 
 thetically asserted. I have strong doubts on 
 that last point, having seen no signs of such 
 motherly watching; and if so it could only 
 have been a touch of remorse for having 
 granted my foolish request, or a dread of that 
 same degrading coroner's inquest. It is true 
 that he did not banter me on the accident, 
 though certainly caused by my own foolhardi- 
 ness, but his ^ good morning^ when we next 
 met, without any reference to the past, was in 
 such a tone that I most heartily wished 1 had 
 fulfilled my desire of departing the preceding 
 night without a meeting. The thanks were 
 frozen on my lips ; — the gratitude that I had 
 been nursing into a glow for the last twelve 
 hours died away with a hiss and a sputter, 
 like a flame extinguished by the outpouring of 
 a bucket of water. Unable to answer, in my 
 confusion I stumbled over the rug, — over- 
 turned a chair, — upset the table, — burst into a 
 nervous hysterical laugh beyond my power to
 
 12 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 control; and at last rushed out of the room, 
 and soon after out of the house : — any thing 
 rather than agahi encounter that worse than 
 gorgon look. Not to have been lord of Rol- 
 leston Court with all its wide domain could I 
 have met again the cold, sardonic smile with 
 which he considered my disasters. Had he 
 been in a passion I could have borne it hum- 
 bly, and forgiven him ; but that smile ! which 
 was scarcely a smile, and so much the worse 
 as it addressed itself more to the imagination, 
 and was thus endowed with greater power ! — 
 A horse laugh would have been nothing to it. 
 To face such another smile was beyond me, so, 
 coward as 1 was, I crept out at the back door 
 "without waiting for your return, though mo- 
 mentarily expected, bidding my servant follow 
 "with the horses. I cannot deny having left 
 his house in a very unceremonious and im- 
 proper manner ; but then I sent him the same 
 day an eloquent epistle containing my thanks 
 and apologies: — yes, — absolutely eloquent—
 
 THE FRIGHT. 13 
 
 look as incredulous as you will. What hours 
 of thought did its composition cost me ! I 
 wonder I escaped a brain fever from the ago- 
 nies of its authorship, for his searching eye 
 seemed fixed upon me while I wrote, and 
 the sardonic smile with which he would peruse 
 it was ever before me. With just such a look 
 as he granted me permission to navigate the 
 unsafe canoe can 1 fancy he gave you per- 
 mission to take unto yourself a wife, antici- 
 pating doubtless some like catastrophe.^^ 
 
 " Not seeing the resemblance between my 
 marrying Miss Lowther, and your trying to 
 manage an unmanageable canoe, I cannot 
 understand why my uncle should anticipate 
 the like catastrophe," replied Trevyllian 
 gravely. 
 
 " I cry your pardon ! I forgot for the mo- 
 ment that you were a lover, but had not the 
 slightest intention I assure you of being uncivil 
 to Miss Lowther, for whom I have all possible 
 respect and admiration," said his laughing
 
 14 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 friend. I shall for the fortune receive witli 
 suspicion any gifts or permissions from Mr. 
 RoUeston to myself; but if he really will do 
 his best in a gracious manner to promote your 
 happiness, I will think more favorably of him 
 for your sake, and even risk encountering that 
 horrid smile again, whilst I tender him my 
 thanks and apologies in person. Tell me 
 truly, did he listen with any tolerable degree 
 of sympathy — nay even decent patience to 
 your ennumeration of your mistress's charms ?'' 
 " Will you never learn, Rawdon, to talk 
 less wildly }" asked his friend, not very well 
 pleased with his remarks on Mr. Rolleston, 
 which though exaggerated, had some founda- 
 tion in fact. " I admit that my uncle did not 
 at first listen to my loverlike rhapsodies with 
 flattering attention, but I am convinced that 
 my happiness is his first object in life. With- 
 out one word from me on the subject he has 
 promised to make a handsome addition to my 
 fortune."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 15 
 
 "Are you to reside with the old gentle- 
 man ?" asked Rawdon with a glance full of 
 mischief, 
 
 " No. Aware, he said, that the young and 
 the old have different ideas on many points, 
 and that he had acquired some peculiarities 
 from his long seclusion, he presents me with 
 Greenhill and the surrounding estate, on my 
 wedding day. 1 could see by his quivering 
 lip, the only sign of emotion, how much a 
 separation cost him ; and feel more firmly 
 bound to him for the great self sacrifice. I 
 owe him much — very much !'' 
 
 " So you do, Trevyllian ; and so do I in 
 the way of apology if all this is done in good 
 faith, as 1 suppose it must be ; but there is 
 always so much grimness even in his kindness 
 that 1 feel half terrified at the idea of becom- 
 ing his pet, of which I see, by your looks, you 
 think there is no chance. Perhaps not ; — but 
 let him perform his promises, and I will be 
 his most obedient, humble servant for the
 
 IG THE FRIGHT. 
 
 rest of my life. What will he say to the 
 discovery of the new w ill, which transfers the 
 twenty thousand pounds supposed to have 
 been left to Miss Lowther by her aunt, half 
 to charities, and half to her insidious relative ?'' 
 
 " It w ill effect no change in his views. I 
 never knew him swayed by mercenary motives, 
 and prudence need not interfere in our case, 
 as I have enough for both. He asked no 
 questions concerning her wealth or conections, 
 saying he could rely on my choice ; and only 
 heard of her supposed fortune incidentally.'' 
 
 " Indeed ! the uncle and guardian as gen- 
 erous and disinterested as the lover ! Well 
 the times are improving there is no denying 
 that ! But cannot this last w ill be set aside ? 
 1 am always for rewarding virtue — it makes 
 such a pretty moral .^^ 
 
 '• You must work out some less common- 
 place moral in the present instance ; for even 
 the lawyers admit that litigation would be 
 waste of time and money .^'
 
 THE FRIGHT. 1? 
 
 " That is a pity ! but 1 will see what I can 
 do about a deeper and more recherche moral. 
 You say your uncle cares nothing for this loss 
 of fortune?'* 
 
 " I feel convinced that he will not ; and his 
 letter, which I expect to-morrow, will compel 
 you to do him justice." 
 
 " Then you have not heard from him since 
 he received the information ;'' said Rawdon in 
 a tone denoting his suspicions of Mr. RoUes- 
 ton's disinterestedness. " Well, w^e shall 
 see." 
 
 " Yes, we shall see !" observed Trevyllian 
 with an assured and confident manner. 
 
 But the assured and confident manner with 
 which he repeated the words then, and on the 
 following day when he held his uncle*s letter 
 in his hand, vanished before the conclusion of 
 its perusal, short as it was. With pallid cheek 
 and staring eyes, he stood for some moments 
 as if paralysed by the shock, then recovering 
 from the stunning effects of those few lines.
 
 18 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 rushed into action to dispel his fears, and 
 ^vithin half an hour was on his road to RoUes- 
 ton Court. His conversation with Rawdon, 
 already related, had awakened neither doubt 
 nor anxiety, so that his uncle's command to 
 break off his engagement was the greater 
 shock from his not having anticipated the 
 possibility of such an event. The letter was 
 as follows : — 
 
 My Dear Nephew, 
 
 " I have ever sought your 
 happiness — I seek it now^ : — that happiness 
 cannot be promoted by a union v.ith Miss 
 Lowther. Break off your engagement without 
 delay ; — there are others in the world as fair, 
 and far more worthy of your regard. Ask no 
 questions — offer no arguments — nothing shall 
 ever induce me to consent to this marriage ; — 
 you know that my resolutions are not to be 
 changed. This decision may give you present 
 pain, but it will save you from future misery ;
 
 THE Flli^^'IT. y 
 
 and in all other points, you shall find me, as 
 1 have ever been, not only anxious to gratify, 
 but to anticipate your wishes. 
 
 " Your affectionate Uncle, 
 
 Thomas R )LLssro:\.'^ 
 
 As he pursued his way, Trevyllian looked 
 at the letter in this light and in that, hoping to 
 decide it a forgery ; but — alas for his hopes ! 
 the abnipt, decided style would have iden- 
 tified the writer, had the characters been in 
 an unknown hand. 
 
 " The letter is evidently written in haste 
 and agitation. There is some misapprehen- 
 sion, which a few minutes will set to rights," 
 repeated the nephew for the hundredth time 
 to re-assure himself, as the carriage neared the 
 house ; but his nucleus look — the cold touch of 
 his hand, chilled all his hopes, and hushed the 
 questions which he had been so eager to pour 
 forth.
 
 20 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " There is just time to dress for dinner if 
 you go to your room directly," observed Mr 
 Rolleston coldly, after the usual salutations, 
 expressing no surprise at his arrival ; and his 
 nephew, for the first time, impressed with 
 some of the awe which had overwhelmed 
 Rawdon, acted on the hint without a com- 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston had for some hours been 
 sitting at a window overlooking the road to 
 the house, and as the carriage advanced an 
 expression of triumph lit up his stern, and 
 generally immoveable features ; but it faded 
 away as he noticed the changeful cheek, and 
 hurried step of the young man. He foresaw 
 remonstrance, if not rebellion ; any thing but 
 passive obedience ; and his contracted bow 
 and compressed lip made him look the 
 despot which so many deemed him. 
 
 Trevyllian glanced at his uncle, as they sat 
 facing each other after the servants had with- 
 drawn, as we have described in our first page.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 21 
 
 but turned away "with a shudder from the 
 steady gaze of those stern eyes. Rawdon's 
 prediction of what his uncle^s conduct would 
 be should their wishes ever clash, came across 
 him with the force of a prophecy and checked 
 his speech. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston must have remarked his em- 
 barrassment as he turned away ; but no 
 change of expression shewed that he saw it 
 and his tone was as usual^ or only a little more 
 cold as he broke the long and distressing 
 silence. 
 
 " Fill your glass, Henry. You must be 
 fatigued with such rapid travelling ; and yet I 
 must ask you to go over to Greenhill to- 
 moiTow, having just heard of the sudden death 
 of the steward.^' 
 
 " Yes, sir,'^ replied his nephew, startled by 
 his address from a gloomy reverie, and not 
 half comprehending his meaning. 
 
 " Fill your glass," repeated his uncle. 
 
 Trevyllian obeyed ; drinking the wine me-
 
 22 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 chanically, %vhilst Mr. Rollcston proceeded to 
 explain his wishes concerning Greenhill and a 
 new steward, making arrangements that would 
 detain his nephew there for several days, 
 never referring in the most distant way to his 
 late engagement, and utterly regardless as it 
 yccined of his increasing emotion. 
 
 His doubts and fears growing too intolerable 
 for endurance, Trevyllian at lengih sum- 
 moned courage to know the worst, and by 
 alluding to the past compel an explana- 
 tion. 
 
 "Till the 15th my dear uncle, my time is 
 entirely at your disposal, but on that day, as 
 you already know, 1 have engaged to meet 
 Miss Low^her in town." 
 
 " Have YOU not received mv letter?'^ asked 
 Mr. Rollcston coldly. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and hence my sudden journey ; 
 — but I hope — ^' 
 
 " And I hope to hear no discussion on the 
 subject, but to meet with that obedience.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 23 
 
 which my near relationship, and the care 
 lavished on your childhood give me a right to 
 expect/^ interrupted Mr. RoUeston sternly ; 
 adding with more of the heat of passion than 
 he usually exhibited : — '^ As you value my 
 regard, never ao-ain let me hear Miss Low- 
 ther's name. You look fatigued — good 
 night !" 
 
 '•' My dear sir — my dear uncle. — What am 
 I to understand ? I cannot allow you to leave 
 me without an explanation. There must be 
 some mistake — I entreat you to listen to me" 
 — exclaimed the young man, rising abruptly 
 to detain or follow his uncle, too much 
 astounded by his words to speak coherently. 
 
 " There is no mistake ; and your agitation 
 proves that you comprehend my meaning. 
 Exphiations would be painful to both; and 
 were I to listen to you till mid-night, or mid- 
 day my resolution would remain the same ; — 
 nothing shall ever induce me to consent to 
 your union with Miss Lowther. If you
 
 24 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 would retain my regard break off your engage- 
 ment at once — and for ever 1'^ 
 
 " Impossible, sir ! neither my love, nor my 
 honor \a ill admit of such a proceeding. You 
 were never mercenary ; and are too generous 
 and high minded not to feel that Miss Low- 
 ther's loss of fortune only rivets our engage- 
 ment the more firmly. Irue affection is but 
 the stronger in misfortune ; it would be base 
 and unmanly to desert her now.'^ 
 
 A faint flush came for an instant into Mr. 
 Rolleston's sallow cheek, and that steady 
 searching eye before which so many quailed, 
 sank, for as brief a space, beneath the indig- 
 nant yet pleading gaze of his agitated nephew ; 
 but it* hurt by his remonstrance, or the men- 
 tion of mercenary motives, he was not turned 
 from his pui-pose, and his cold, commanding 
 tone should have convinced his listener that 
 his hopes were vain, and that neither sympa- 
 thy, nor yielding were to be expected. 
 
 " A sober man, Trevyllian, may be prudent
 
 THE FRIGHT. 25 
 
 without being mercenary ; and a young lady 
 ^vith three thousand pounds is such a different 
 person from a young lady \vith twenty three 
 thousand, that a reasonable guardian may re- 
 quire his ward — an affectionate uncle his 
 nephew, to break off his engagement, without 
 deserving the epithet base or unmanly/^ 
 
 " I never accused you, my dear uncle, of 
 being mercenary : I know you never were — 
 you never can be ; and surely prudence does 
 not require so great a sacrifice. I want no 
 fortune with Grace — I have more than enough 
 for us both." 
 
 " You forget that Greenhill was only to be 
 yours on the day of your marriage with my 
 approval : — that approval shall never be given 
 to your union with Grace Lowther." 
 
 " Say not that last, my dear uncle, I entreat 
 you. Do not mar my happiness by opposing 
 the marriage on which that happiness depends. 
 Give Greenhill to another if you will, only 
 
 VOL. I. c .
 
 26 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 give your consent to, your blessing on my 
 union." 
 
 '• Never !" exclaimed Mr. Rolleston vehe- 
 mently ; — then instantly checking himself he 
 continued with his former coldness. '^ You 
 are in no profession, and what you inherit 
 from your mother is not enough to support 
 you in the style to which you have been ac- 
 customed.'^ 
 
 " It is not my fault, sir, that I am in no 
 profession ; at your entreaty, I may say com- 
 mand, I yielded my own Avishes.^' 
 
 '^ And w^ould now taunt me with that yield- 
 ing : — perhaps claim to be my heir in conse- 
 quence," remarked Mr. Rolleston with a 
 withering sneer." 
 
 " You cannot — you do not believe me capa- 
 ble of such ingratitude,^' replied the nephew 
 hurt at his words. ^* I only meant to say that 
 I am ready to enter into any profession, if you 
 approve ; or if not, the interest of the twelve
 
 THE FRIGHT. 2? 
 
 thousand pounds, which is mine by inherit- 
 ance, will content the humble wishes of Grace 
 and myself." 
 
 ^^ You are deceived, Trevyllian — deluded by 
 a fleeting fancy. The interest of twelve thou- 
 sand pounds in the funds, at the present day, 
 will not suffice for your wishes, considering 
 how you have been reared ; and ignorant as 
 you are of the management of money, an at- 
 tempt to increase your income will ensure a 
 loss. Neither Miss Lowther nor her friends 
 can blame you for declining an engagement 
 sought under such different circumstances." 
 
 " The whole world— my own heart, would 
 blame me, could I thus act,^^ cried Trevyllian 
 indignantly. 
 
 " The praise or the censure of the world is 
 alike worthless ! — its judgments are never just ; 
 — and, for your own heart, — get a new love, 
 and it will soon find arguments to justify its 
 change." 
 
 " Never !" again exclaimed Trevyllian pass- 
 c 2
 
 28 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ionately, urged almost to frenzy by his uncle's 
 cynicism. 
 
 " Psha ! You would not be the first who 
 has changed — nor the last. One would take 
 you for a simpleton of sixteen, instead of a 
 generally sensible young man of nearly one 
 and twenty/' observed Mr. Rolleston unmoved 
 by his passion. 
 
 "In your present temper, sir, it would be 
 useless to plead our strong attachment.^^ 
 
 " Perfectly so ;" interrupted his uncle. 
 
 " Then I must argue the point, as a point of 
 honor.'' 
 
 '- There is no need for any argument ; — the 
 point is already decided against you,'' observed 
 his uncle. " You were engaged to Miss Low- 
 ther with a fortune of twenty three thousand 
 pounds; — you v;ere deceived — the deception 
 is discovered, and you are free." 
 
 " Deception, sir ! You cannot suppose that 
 Miss Lowther was aware of the existence of 
 this later will ?"
 
 THE FRIGHT. 29 
 
 " You, as a lover, may not believe this, love 
 being proverbially blind, but I, being an un- 
 interested observer, and a plain seeing person, 
 cannot believe otherwise/^ 
 
 " Good heavens, sir ! how can you entertain 
 such an idea ? But you do not know Miss 
 Lowther; — only see Grace — only listen to 
 her—'' 
 
 ^' I will not see her P' exclaimed his uncle 
 with a vehemence startling to his hearer. 
 
 " If you will not see her, at least make 
 enquiries ; — question — sift — -'' 
 
 " 1 need no enquiries ; my opinion is al- 
 ready formed on sufficient grounds,'* inter- 
 rupted his uncle, but speaking with less ve- 
 hemence. 
 
 " Indeed, sir, you have be^n misinformed, 
 and are much mistaken. I would wager my 
 hfe on Grace's truth." 
 
 " And lose it as fools have done before who 
 trusted to the truth of woman." 
 
 " You wrong her, sir ; I would trust her — "
 
 30 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " And be deceived, as others have been/^ 
 said Mr. RoUcston, concluding the sentence in 
 a hissing whisper, that shocked his wondering 
 nephew. 
 
 " 1 repeat, sir, you are mistaken : Grace is 
 above deception. No sooner was she aware of 
 this loss of fortune than she wrote to release 
 me from my engagement.^' 
 
 " Then it is all as it should be, and you are 
 free.^^ 
 
 ^^ Free, sir ? — only to bind myself the more 
 completely. If my love did not bind me my 
 honor would.^^ 
 
 " Psha, Trevyllian ! your ideas are chi- 
 merical; — romantic; — not fit for every day 
 use." 
 
 " My ideas of honor, sir, are such as I 
 learnt from you ; and you would in your heart 
 despise me could I act otherwise. You asked 
 no questions concerning Miss Lowther's for- 
 tune or connections ; you did not make your 
 consent to our union depend on either ; — your
 
 THE FRIGHT. 31 
 
 "words were that you yielded to promote my 
 happiness^ and that you could rely on my 
 choice. Her loss of fortune has not caused 
 your change of mind ; and my happiness is 
 still to be made or marred by your decision." 
 
 " I best promote that happiness by refusing 
 my consent to a union^ which you desire with 
 the headstrong impetuosity of blinded Xove,' 
 said Mr. RoUeston harshly. 
 
 " Say not so^ my dear uncle ; without your 
 sanction^ I cannot be quite blessed : — do not 
 then withhold that consent for which I plead 
 so earnestly. You have long watched over me 
 with the care and affection of a parent ; — still 
 look upon me as a child — still let me look to 
 you as to a father." 
 
 " I desire no more^ Trevyllian," said his 
 uncle quickly, and in a more gentle tone. 
 " Shew me the love and obedience of a son : — 
 give up this girl, who shall never enter my 
 doors, and I will be to you all that the fondest, 
 and most careful father could be."
 
 32 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " In all else I will obey you," exclaimed 
 Tre\7llian, touched almost to tears by his 
 softened manner ; — " but in this — " 
 
 ^^ This is the only point on which I require 
 obedience/' interrupted Mr. RoUeston, some 
 portion of sternness mingling with his affecti- 
 onate entreaty. " Ask aught beside, even to 
 the half of my fortune, and it shall be granted 
 freely — readily." 
 
 " My dear, kind uncle ! 1 am grateful — 
 truly grateful ! — but why is this ? Your very 
 offer proves that you are not mercenary. Keep 
 all your wealth ; 1 only ask your blessing on 
 
 our union .'^ 
 
 " You shall not wed her !" cried Mr. Rolles- 
 ton fiercely. 
 
 " There is more in this than the mere 
 question of fortune," said Trevyllian, looking 
 keenly into his uncle's glaring eyes. 
 
 " Who told you that, boy ?" questioned Mr. 
 Rolleston, starting back and drawing up his 
 stately figure to its full height.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 33 
 
 " There is ! there is ! — you cannot deceive 
 me," exclaimed the excited Trevyllian. " I 
 read it in your quivering lip — I see it in your 
 half averted face. Speak ! speak ! know you 
 aught of Grace Lowther that should bar our 
 union ? On your honor as a man, a christian, 
 have you heard aught against her? Speak! 
 in mercy speak ! if you would have me retain 
 my senses," he continued still more passion- 
 ately, whilst his cheek turned of an ashy hue, 
 and he leant against the mantel-piece for 
 support. 
 
 " Ask no more !'* replied Mr. RoUeston in a 
 hollow whisper after a short pause, during 
 which, to judge from the movements of his 
 lips, he had made more than one attempt to 
 speak. 
 
 " Yes ; I must ask ; and I must be answer- 
 ed," cried the lover with increasing vehe- 
 mence, shocked at an expression on Mr. Rol- 
 leston's features which he had never seen there 
 before. 
 
 c 5
 
 34 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ee 
 
 And who are you, that you should question 
 me ?" almost shrieked his uncle with a fearful 
 rush of passion, at utter variance wdth his 
 generally cold and stern demeanour. " Did I 
 watch your youth only that you should sting 
 me when gro^^^n to manhood ? To whom do 
 you owe that competence of which you boast, 
 and which your black ingratitude would now 
 employ to thwart my wishes —my commands ? 
 My care husbanded the little that could be 
 snatched from the ruin of your spendthrift 
 father. My arms sheltered — my lips taught 
 vou, when there was none beside who cared for 
 you. Your mother, deluded by love or vanity, 
 wedded a gainst my will and judgment : — 
 she died broken hearted. Follow not her ex- 
 ample, lest you share her fate. Away boy ! 
 or let me pass, and as you value my regard 
 never again recur to this subject ; — you have 
 yet to learn how I can hate." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should ever learn it !
 
 THE FRIGHT. 35 
 
 As yet, I have known but your love, for which 
 I am most grateful." 
 
 " Prove this by obedience." 
 
 " On all other points, sir ; even in this, if 
 Tou could prove ; — but you cannot ; — shame 
 on me that I should doubt her for one mo- 
 ment !" he exclaimed his pale cheek flushing 
 at tlic thought. " I put it to you as my uncle, 
 whom I have so long known and respected ; I 
 put it to you as a man, who would let no con- 
 sideration tempt him to an untruth, have you 
 heard aught against Grace Lowther ?" 
 
 Mr. RoUeston looked into his nephew's 
 anxious face, and then on the ground ; but 
 made no reply, though the muscles of his 
 mouth worked with some strong emotion. 
 
 " In pity to my agony, speak 1 implore 
 you 1" pleaded Trevyllian, laying his hand on 
 his arm. 
 
 " Play not the lover to me, boy,'^ cried Mr. 
 RoUeston angrily, shaking off his hand. " Your
 
 36 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 mistress may be pure as unsunned snow ; — a 
 perfect chrysolite, for aught that I have heard 
 to the contrary ; — if a woman can be either." 
 
 *' She is ! she is ! and I do not deserve her 
 for that instant's doubt," exclaimed the tri- 
 umphant lover. " Admitting this, sir, let me 
 entreat — " 
 
 " I will listen to no entreaties — I will 
 hearken to no arguments. Was there ever 
 lover who did not deem his idol the wonder of 
 the world? And how long think you does 
 such delusion last ?"-^With some few, perhaps, 
 till the end of the honeymoon. But this is 
 •not the question,'' he added more gently, 
 ^^ Will you wring the heart of him who cradled 
 you an orphan in his arms, and let his love 
 cling round you till a parting, or a quarrel 
 would be as a withering blight on his remain- 
 ing years, taking away the sap from the stately 
 forest tree that sheltered you ? You spoke of 
 gratitude— now is the time to shew it." 
 
 "My dear uncle, I am most grateful. But
 
 THE FRIGHT. 3? 
 
 why should there be a parting ? — why dissen- 
 sion ? Why object to my union with Miss 
 Lowther, since you _^can bring no accusation 
 against her ?" 
 
 ^^ I have told you, boy, that I will not be 
 questioned. Wed not ! — or wed with my curse 
 upon your head \ It is for you to decide be- 
 tween Thomas Rolleston, and Grace Lowther ; 
 — between your uncle and a stranger, — be- 
 tween the watchful care of many years, and 
 the fleeting fancy of a day, or week ! The 
 choice rests with you," he added folding his 
 arms, and standing proudly before his ne- 
 phew. 
 
 " Say not so P* exclaimed Trevyllian in 
 strong emotion. " If my peace is dear to 
 you, put me not to so hard a trial." 
 
 " Choose \" repeated Mr. Rolleston sternly. 
 
 " I cannot choose, sir ; I will not believe 
 you in earnest." 
 
 " When was I given to jesting ?" questioned 
 his uncle scornfully. ^^ I am in earnest — I am
 
 38 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 resolved, Decide like a man ! — waver not like 
 a child ! Yet, stay ! I admit the decision may 
 be painful, and therefore condescend to plead 
 with yon, — Trevyllian, — my nephew, — the 
 child of my care. I do not command as a 
 guardian, 1 entreat as a friend — a father. Can 
 you hear me thus plead unmoved ?" he added 
 placing his hand affectionately on the young 
 man's shoulder, whilst his lip quivered, and his 
 keen gaze softened into tenderness. 
 
 " No, sir, not unmoved !" replied Trevyllian 
 with a faltering voice. " Formerly your com- 
 mands would have been — " 
 
 "Ha! Because the law leaves j-ou your 
 own master in a few days then, you would 
 brave me," interrupted Mr. RoUeston sternly. 
 
 " Not brave you, my dear uncle, only appeal 
 to your justice — your affection." 
 
 " I will listen to no appeal," cried Mr. Rol- 
 leston with another burst of passion. " Will 
 you leave my old age desolate, and w'ed with 
 my curse upon your head ? or will you give
 
 THE FRIGHT. 39 
 
 up the acquaintance of a few months^ and be 
 my son — my heir ?'^ 
 
 Trevyllian was silent. 
 
 " Speak !" continued Mr. RoUeston still 
 more sternly, grasping his arm. " Will you 
 give up Grace Lowther ?^^ 
 
 " Never, sir ! my affection, my honor, alike 
 forbid it. Let who will be your heir; but still 
 let me be your son." 
 
 " No son of mine, rebellious boy !" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Rolleston, dashing away the arm 
 he had grasped, and giving loose to the 
 fury so hardly repressed before. '^ No son of 
 mine! xVlien ! and more than alien — foe! — 
 Away ! away ! you sleep not beneath this roof 
 again. Henceforth you are an outcast from 
 the home of your fathers' — a stranger to your 
 mother's only brother. Away ! away ! 1 w^ould 
 not look upon your face again." he repeated 
 waving him off as he would have approached 
 to take his hand. 
 
 " Speak not so hard a doom ! Pause a little !
 
 40 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 give me time — give us both time," pleaded 
 Trevyllian. 
 
 " Time for what V asked Mr. Rollestoii 
 scornfully, " Do you purpose change ? — No 
 boy! I read your heart: — and I — I change 
 not as you think and hope. Go wed this girl, 
 and let my curse — " 
 
 " Stop, stop, sir ! say not that, 1 implore 
 you, by your former love.'^ 
 
 ^* That love is turned to hate. — You brave 
 my wrath, yet fear its utterance. Well, be it 
 so ! I need not speek my malison, you feel it 
 in your heart already. The remembrance of 
 my parting words will linger to your dying 
 hour. We meet no more,^' he added towering 
 into a lofty grandeur as he reached the door, 
 and stalking past his nephew, who would fain 
 have stayed him, with a withering look of 
 fearful power. 
 
 TrevyUian listened to his departing steps 
 with some slight hope that he would yet re- 
 lent ; but when he heard him enter his study.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 41 
 
 and lock the door^ he sank into a chair, and 
 covering his face with his hands, as if to shut 
 out that scathing look, gave way to the grief 
 that oppressed him. 
 
 His face was still buried in his hands, his 
 thoughts still dwelling on the parting words 
 and glance of that stern man whom he had 
 loved so well, when the opening of the door 
 startled and roused him. His eye lit up with 
 sudden hope, as Mr. Rolleston's valet handed 
 him a note. He read, then crushed it in his 
 hands. 
 
 " Your carriage is at the door, sir, as you 
 ordered ; but my master bade me ask whether 
 you would want it to-night, or not," said the 
 valet in a cold, measured tone, it being his 
 pride and pleasure to ape Mr. Rolleston. 
 
 " Yes : this very moment V exclaimed Tre- 
 vyllian, rushing past the astonished valet, and 
 springing into the carriage without question, 
 or command. 
 
 As the door was closing, he called to the
 
 42 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 butler, " Tell my uncle— tell Mr. Rolleston— 
 but no/^ he added, checking himself abruptly ; 
 — " tell him nothing; — I will write." 
 
 " You have now had an hour to con- 
 sider. Promise to see Grace Lowther no 
 more, and we meet to-morrow as we have ever 
 met till to-day. Wed her, and you are no 
 longer nephew of mine ; — a stranger shall 
 be my heir. To stay oi to depart remains 
 with yourself; but your decision must be 
 prompt and final : 1 am not to be turned or 
 trifled with. 
 
 '^ Yours, or not yours, as you decide, 
 " Thomas IIolleston." 
 
 " So writes my uncle,'^ said Trevyllian re- 
 peating the contents of the note to himself as 
 he sank back in the chariot ; then hastily lean- 
 ing forward he tore the crumpled paper into a
 
 THE FRIGHT. 43 
 
 thousand atoms, and flung them out of the 
 ^vindo^v. 
 
 " I have chosen, as he desired ; I was his 
 grateful nephew — not his crouching slave. A 
 wife^s love must compensate for an uncle^s 
 harshness ; Grace shall be mine within the 
 month.^^ 
 
 Tre\yllian wrote in defence of his choice 
 ending with a touching appeal to his uncle's 
 affection ; but the letter was returned un- 
 opened, the re-direction being in Mr. Rolles- 
 ton^s hand, whose solicitor informed him a few 
 days after, by that gentleman's desire, that all 
 the accounts during his minority were ready 
 for his inspection and signature. Within the 
 month, as he had said, Grace Lowther became 
 his bride, unconscious of having been the 
 cause of estrangement between the relatives, 
 though aware that they had parted, never again 
 to meet as friends. His own twelve thousand 
 pounds, and his wife's three, placed, by the 
 advice of Rawdon, who shewed the warmest
 
 44 THE FllIGlIT. 
 
 concern in his friend's happiness, where a 
 greater interest could be procured than in the 
 funds, furnished means sufficient to gratify his 
 humble wishes. Trevyllian had no ambition, 
 no desire for shew ; and in the devoted affec- 
 tion of his gentle, and lovely wife, almost for- 
 got his alienation from his uncle. The birth 
 of his first child, a daughter, was announced 
 to Mr. RoUeston at Trevyllian's request, by 
 Mr. Bolton, the excellent rector, who took this 
 opportunity of urging, with christian earnest- 
 ness, a reconciliation, for which the nephew 
 was still anxious. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston listened in haughty politeness 
 with only an occasional gesture of impatience, 
 then answered briefly. 
 
 " As Henry Trevyllian kept his resolution, 
 so will Thomas Rolleston keep his : — I 
 have no nephew — he has no uncle : — let him 
 beware how he attempts to force himself into 
 my presence. Permit me to add, Mr. Bolton, 
 that this subject must never again be named."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 45 
 
 The words and manner were too decided to 
 leave any hope of a speedy change, and Mr. 
 Bolton, though still desirous of accomplishing 
 a reconciliation, deemed it most prudent to be 
 silent as requested, or rather commanded, till 
 that haughty spirit should be softened, or 
 subdued.
 
 46 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 CIIAFIER 11. 
 
 '' Nine ycras to-day since we were married/' 
 said Trevyllian, passing his arm round his 
 wife's waist as she entered the breakfast room 
 at Bcechley cottage^ imprinting a kiss upon 
 her ruby lips. " I have not repented of my 
 choice ; — what says my Grace ?" 
 
 " That she is very happy !" she rephed 
 gazing upon him with a fond wife's pride and 
 love. •' See, I have not forgotten the day/' 
 she added presenting him with an elegant 
 souvenir.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 4? 
 
 ^' Nor have I/' he remarked, throwing 
 round her neck a chain of beautiful workman- 
 ship, and then stepping back a space to admire 
 the effect. " Truly, fair Grace, you look so 
 lovely that I must enact the lover once again ; 
 1 am still under thirty, you know,^^ he added 
 gaily, kissing the cheek that glowed as it had 
 done in former days. 
 
 '^ What would Captain Rawdon say if he 
 saw or heard this galantry?^^ asked his blush- 
 ing wife. 
 
 "He would say, that we were as great 
 simpletons as ever," replied the laughing Tre- 
 vyllian. " Now I remember he was to come 
 to-day and claim his wager, having betted that 
 we should fall out and omit or forget our usual 
 exchange of presents ; he shall certainly pay, 
 and the whole be expended on you, sweet 
 wife." 
 
 " As an acknowledgment that to my sweet- 
 ness alone is to be attributed our not hav-
 
 48 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ing fallen out?' questioned Mrs. Trcvyllian 
 archly. 
 
 " No, only because, being of the weaker 
 sex, you require encouragement in virtue, 
 whilst my more manly mind can do right with- 
 out the hope or promise of reward." 
 
 " Oh for the vanity of man !" exclaimed his 
 wife, holding up her hands in pretended as- 
 tonishment. " But 1 hear the children in the 
 garden ; and they being of the weaker sex 
 must have their rewards too, I suppose : the 
 books are ready." 
 
 Mrs. Trevyllian approached the window as 
 she spoke, followed by her husband, and both 
 gazed with delight on the scene, and then on 
 each other. 
 
 Immediately before them lay a sloping lawn 
 tastefully decorated with shrubs and flowers ; 
 beyond a gravel terrace, overlooking a fine ex- 
 tent of wooded country. The spring and 
 summer flowers had passed away, but those of
 
 THE FRIGHT. 49 
 
 autumn were still in the freshness of their 
 beauty. The dahUas and the chrysanthe- 
 mums, blended their various hues in rich pro- 
 fusion, and the china roses with their delicate 
 pink peeped in at the windows, round which 
 they clustered, in prodigal abundance. A 
 fresh, invigorating air played among the 
 shrubs ; and occasionally a ruder wind, the 
 note of approaching winter, swept over the 
 more lofty trees, followed by a shower of 
 leaves, brown, yellow, scarlet j whilst in the 
 blue sky above rode a bright sun, shedding a 
 glow on all beneath, and preventing the chilly 
 feel too often attending an autumn morning. 
 But it was neither on the sun, nor the azure 
 sky, nor the trees, nor the flowers, nor the dis- 
 tant prospect, though each served to heighten 
 the beauty of the scene, that the gaze of Tre- 
 vyllian and his wife was fixed in delighted 
 admiration. They looked at — they only saw 
 their children, two little girls playing on the 
 terrace ; now chasing each other with childish 
 
 \0L. I. D
 
 50 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 glee and grace, then snatching at the whirhng 
 autumn leaves ; and anon mocking the grave 
 demeanour of grown up men and women, en- 
 acting all the courtesies of visiting. 
 
 Sallow and sickly, without a tolerable fea- 
 ture, but her eyes, and even those looking 
 weak and bleared from her recent illness, the 
 youngest could boast of little personal attrac- 
 tion. No artist would have wished to sketch 
 her — no honest person, however polite, could 
 have pronounced her pretty, (a blunt one 
 would at once have called her a fright) ; and 
 perhaps neither father nor mother absolutely 
 considered the little Grace a beauty, but 
 there was an intelligence, an expression of 
 sweetness and generosity in those irregular 
 features, which though strangers might have 
 failed to perceive, it made her in their opinion 
 almost as interesting, and quite as dear, as her 
 elder sister, Julia, one of the most lovely little 
 creatures that mortal ever looked upon. To 
 a skin of dazzling, yet life like whiteness, per-
 
 THR FRIGHT. 51 
 
 feet features of the grecian cast, l^'ii'ge, soft, 
 grey eyes with lashes that lay thick and long 
 on her peachy cheek when she looked down, 
 and golden hair that fell in glossy curls over 
 her snowy neck, she united a figure of almost 
 perfect symmetry. The ladies, with the ex- 
 ception of one or two rival mothers, called her 
 a love ! and a darling ! whilst the gentlemen 
 half smothered her with kisses, talking non- 
 sense about her conquests in after years. 
 Strangers stopped to speak to or look after 
 her ; and the servants and friends predicted a 
 splendid match for the young beauty, aware 
 how much the loveliness of person outweighs 
 the loveliness of mind in general estimation. 
 Julia Trevyllian was a beauty ! there was no 
 denying it ; and, unhappily, there was no pos- 
 sibility of preventing her from hearing it three 
 times on the average every working day, and 
 probably six on the Sunday, when she went to 
 church, and caught the praises of the villagers. 
 Her father and mother did all they could to 
 D 2
 
 \ 
 
 52 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 counteract the effects of such constant flattery 
 and hoped they had succeeded : — alas, what 
 will not parents hope ! 
 
 At the moment when Mr. and Mrs. Tre- 
 vyllian looked from the window, Grace, tired 
 with a run, was leaning against a garden seat, 
 whilst Julia was amusing herself and her 
 sister by waltzing, as she called it, with a black 
 spaniel. The grave looks of the patient dog, 
 as the lovely Julia whirled him round and 
 round, caused bursts of laughter from the 
 wearied Grace, and the fair waltzer, who 
 seemed scarcely like a thing of earth, so light, 
 so sylphlike W'ere her motions. 
 
 " Do make Frolic dance for papa and 
 mamma to see," cried Grace, clapping her 
 hands with childish glee, at the last splendid 
 pirouette of the spaniel and his young mis- 
 tress. " Oh, there they are at the window ! 
 Let us run and give them our nosegays, and 
 have kisses in return," she continued, looking 
 towards the house, aiid snatching up the
 
 THE FRIGHT. 53 
 
 flowers so carefully gathered^ and so nicely 
 arranged. 
 
 " Yes, let us make haste and get the pre- 
 sents that they always give us on their wed- 
 ding day/^ replied the still panting Julia, tak- 
 inoj her sister's hand, who had waited for a 
 moment that they might reach the house 
 together. 
 
 " See here ! we picked them the first thing," 
 cried the eager children at once, holding up 
 the flowers to their happy parents, whose eyes 
 filled with tears of joy as they bent down to 
 kiss them. 
 
 " And now you expect the usual presents as 
 a reward, I suppose, for your pretty nosegays," 
 said Mr. Trevyllian. 
 
 " Yes, papa !'^ cried Julia joyfully. 
 
 " We should have picked them all the same, 
 without that,^' said Grace looking down with 
 a crimsoned cheek, fearing that a reproach for 
 interested motives was couched beneath her 
 father's gaiety.
 
 54 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " I am sure you would/' replied Mr. and 
 Mrs. Trevyllian together, touched by the sen- 
 sitive delicacy of her affection. 
 
 " J meant no rebuke, my little Gracey," 
 added her father kissing her tenderly. 
 
 The child made no reply, but clinging round 
 his neck hid her face in his bosom. Of deli- 
 cate health even from her birth, if less lovely 
 than her sister she had, for her age, more 
 thought ; and her late illness, whilst it had 
 rendered her more dependant on others, had 
 also made her more sensitive to, and more 
 grateful for, the attentions bestowed upon her. 
 Her parents feared she "svas too sensitive — had 
 too keen a perception of slight or kindness to 
 pass happily through this changing life, where 
 joys and sorrows alternate so quickly ; but this 
 sensitiveness, so unusual in children of her 
 years, might be only the effect of lingering 
 weeakness ; better health and judicious cul- 
 ture might moderate it sufficiently to enable
 
 THE FRIGHT. !)5 
 
 her to endure the pains and penalties of 
 womanhood . 
 
 '• Oh, what pretty books !" exclaimed both 
 children, each looking with eager and admir- 
 ing eyes at the one in her own hand, and then 
 as eagerly and admiringly on the one held by 
 her sister. 
 
 " What a very pretty picture !" cried Juha 
 opening her large, grey eyes in beautiful 
 wonder and delight at a print in Grace's 
 book. 
 
 '* If you like it better than yours, dear, 
 you shall have it, for you should have the 
 prettiest things,*' whispered little Grace, put- 
 ting her arm round her sister's neck. " I 
 dare say papa and mamma would let us 
 change." 
 
 " No, indeed, dear Grace, I did not mean 
 that ; and it is you who should have the pret- 
 tiest things for you are always so good and 
 patient, and don't mind when I tease you," 
 replied the blushing Julia, kissing her sister.
 
 56 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " Besides, I dare say my pictures are quite a 
 pretty, only I have not had time to look at 
 them." 
 
 " You will find little difference, except that 
 there are harder words in one than the other, to 
 suit little girls of eight, and five years old : we 
 love our children equally," observed Mr. Tre- 
 vyllian, who had overheard the whispered offer 
 and reply. " I trust you will always be equally 
 willing, each to make a sacrifice for the sake of 
 the other," 
 
 No sisters could be more sincerely attached. 
 Grace never envied the beauty of Julia, though 
 the injudicious remarks of nursemaids and 
 strangers had made her perfectly aware of the 
 striking difference in their personal appear- 
 ance ; whilst Julia, if sometimes a little way- 
 ward and tyrannical to others, was ever gentle 
 and considerate to Grace. 
 
 Had it pleased the w^orshipful, the House of 
 Commons, amongst their numerous commis- 
 sions to issue one for ascertaining which dwell-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 5j 
 
 Ing ill his majesty's dominions (for we were 
 not then governed by a fair young queen, to 
 whom all look with fervent hope, and devoted 
 love) contained the greatest portion of human 
 happiness, few, if any, could have competed 
 on that point with Beechley Cottage on this 
 fresh, autumn morning. A bright sun shone 
 without, a bright fire glowed within ; the urn 
 hissed with a happy sound, and Trevyllian and 
 his wife glanced with chastened delight first 
 on each other, and then an their children ; 
 each little girl with her new book cuddled 
 close beside her, into which she occasionally 
 peeped, and Frolic seated between them, re- 
 ceiving with great gravity and decorum the 
 attentions lavished on him by his young 
 mistresses. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ] you should have seen Frolic 
 dance ; he looked so funny '/ said Grace, in 
 the lisping tones of childhood, twining his long 
 silken curls between her slender fingers. 
 
 ^' However funny it might seem to you, 
 D 5
 
 58 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Grace, I doubt if he found much pleasure in 
 his waltz." 
 
 " Don't you think he liked it mamma ?" 
 questioned Grace with earnest gravity. 
 
 ^^ I cannot say that I think he did/' replied 
 her mother, smiling at her simplicity. 
 
 '' Poor, dear Frolic ! then he shan't be 
 asked to dance any more/' said the affection- 
 ate child, kissing the dog by way of atone- 
 ment ; an endearment with which the spaniel 
 appeared highly delighted, wagging his tail, 
 and endeavouring to return the compliment. 
 
 ^^ Oh, nonsense 1" said Julia, flinging back 
 her beautiful curls with a graceful motion of 
 the head ; " Frolic must not give himself airs, 
 but dance when I choose. Don't I feed him, 
 and pet him, and love him ? And would not 
 little Harry Sotherby" (who, by the way, was 
 larger than herself) ^' be glad to dance with 
 me any day ?" 
 
 " Yes, but then, if we do feed him, Julia, 
 he fetches and carries for us ; and lets us pull
 
 THE FRIGHT. 59 
 
 him about as we like, yet never bites ; and I 
 love him too well to vex him." 
 
 " A dance will do him good sometimes/' 
 cried the little beauty, with another toss of the 
 head. " But look, mamma ! here is a carriage 
 — and coming so fast !" she continued, run- 
 ning to the window, and wondering with 
 childish wonder who it could be. 
 
 " Ah, Rawdon ! just come in time to pay 
 your debt," exclaimed Trevyllian, advancing 
 to meet his friend, the sole occupant of the 
 carriage coming so fast. ^^ We have neither 
 quarrelled nor omitted the presents as you 
 predicted." 
 
 ^ You deserve no praise on that score ; a 
 South Sea savage, ay, or even a South Sea 
 whale, would be subdued by such charms,'^ 
 replied Rawdon gallantly, bowing to his 
 friend's still lovely wife. *^ I wish all debts 
 could be paid as easily and willingly,^' he 
 added wringing Mrs. Trevyllian's hand with 
 a force of which he was unconscious, shocked
 
 60 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 at the change which a few days might produce 
 in the lot of those who were now all smiles 
 and joy. 
 
 ^' I agree with you in wishing that all were 
 as honest/^ observed Trevyllian gaily. 
 
 " Honest ! There is no such thing as ho- 
 nesty in the world 1" replied Rawdon with a 
 bitterness of tone> which attracted the atten- 
 tion of his friend. 
 
 " There is hospitality, at any rate, so come 
 and deposit your hat in the hall, and then we 
 will give you a good breakfast," said Trevyl- 
 lian as gaily as before, not to alai'm his wife. 
 " What has happened, Rawdon ?" he de- 
 manded abruptly, aa soon as the breakfast 
 room door was closed behind them. " You 
 have not come merely to do honour to my 
 wedding day." 
 
 " You may well say that, Trevyllian ; for 
 my news is by no means fitted for such a time." 
 
 " Has any evil befallen my uncle ?" asked 
 Trevyllian anxiously.
 
 THE FRIGHT. (J 1 
 
 " No. A six months fit of the gout, at the 
 least to the old curmudgeon !" exclaimed Raw- 
 don in vexation. " But for him this would 
 never have come to pass; — and yet that is un- 
 just: I should blame myself more than an- 
 other; — but who does that in this world? And 
 who, like a vain glorious fool, would wish to be 
 singular ? 
 
 * Condemned to drudg^e, 
 Without a second and without a judge.* 
 
 Here am I quoting poetry like a madman, 
 instead of talking plain prose Hke a sane, sober 
 man of business. The fact is, Trevyllian, that 
 you ought instantly to hear my news, and act 
 upon it, but I am so bewildered, that I can 
 think of nothing by way of preparation.^^ 
 
 " I need no preparation. You say that no 
 evil has befallen my uncle, and my wife and, 
 children are well ; — all else, with God^s bless- 
 ing, I can bear/'
 
 62 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " I ^vii^h I could ! — but listen, for there is 
 no time to lose. Downing, after defrauding 
 many, fearful of discovery has fled with his 
 dishonest gains, hoping to escape to America. 
 If we could stop him he might be made to 
 refund. I have had secret intelligence that 
 he is lying perdu — in Liverpool, waiting for a 
 vessel : and hurried hither that we might seek 
 him together. That I should have persuaded 
 you for the sake of higher interest, to lend 
 your money to such a wretch ! Yet all thought 
 him wealthy and honorable, and though 
 scheming, so judicious in that scheming, as to 
 be certain of success.^' 
 
 " No blame can rest with you, Rawdon,'^ 
 observed Trevyllian warmly, hiding his own 
 pangs to save his friend. By this one stroke 
 his children, and his wife were beggars. 
 
 " And your own fortune, Rawdon, — where 
 is that ?'* 
 
 " All gone together; but I can think only 
 of you now. 1 have my pay, and a few hun-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 63 
 
 dreds left to purchase promotion ; and have 
 neither wife nor children/' 
 
 " Ah, Rawdon, there it is !'* said Trevyllian, 
 grasping his friend's arm, and turning deadly 
 pale. '* If I stood alone in the world, it would 
 be little ; — but something may be done yet. 
 In five minutes, 1 shall be ready to start for 
 Liverpool. Go into breakfast, and send Grace 
 to me ; I am better now ;" and the colour 
 came back into his ghastly cheek as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Can you not conceal it from Mrs. Tre- 
 vyllian for the present ?'^ 
 
 " No ; she would imagine worse than the 
 truth." 
 
 " She could scarcely do that. How will 
 she bear the intelligence ?" 
 
 " As a wife, and a christian should. Doubt 
 her not ; only banish that alarming look, and 
 say that I wish to speak with her." 
 
 " Well, Miss Julia, when are you to be my 
 little wife ?" asked Rawdon as he swallowed a
 
 64 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 hasty breakfast after having sent Mrs. Tre- 
 V} llian to her husband. 
 
 *^ I shall not be your little wife at all/' cried 
 the beauty with a toss of the head. " You 
 have not brought me the large doll you pro- 
 mised.^* 
 
 " You will not be so cruel as to refuse me, 
 Julia r' 
 
 " Yes, but I will though. — Harry Sotherby 
 sent me &uch a pretty little kitten ;'^ added the 
 incipient coquette. 
 
 " So Harry has cut me out. What will 
 become of me ?'^ said Rawdon cheated of a 
 smile, despite his anxiety, by the baby beauty's 
 airs. 
 
 " I will be your little w ife, if you like ; you 
 used to tell me such pretty stories when I was 
 ill and could not walk/' whispered Grace, 
 creeping closer to him, and looking upon him 
 with the utmost pity. 
 
 " You are a dear, good little creature,'^ 
 exclaimed Rawdon, taking her on his knee^
 
 THE FRIGHT. Qj 
 
 touched by her words and manner- such a 
 beautiful mingUng of gratitude^ kindness^ and 
 humihty. 
 
 " I forgot you had been so kind to dear 
 Gracey, so I will be your wife too," cried Julia, 
 forgetting all her coquetry in her affection for 
 her sister. 
 
 " Some gentlemen are so rude as to con- 
 sider one wife more than enough," remarked 
 Mrs. Trevyllian entering at the moment, and 
 making an attempt at gaiety, though her voice 
 faltered as she spoke. 
 
 " Can you forgive me, my dear madam, for 
 having introduced Downing to your hus- 
 band y exclaimed Rawdon starting up. 
 
 "It would be unjust and ungrateful to 
 blame you for advice by which we have pro- 
 fited so long. I am truly sorry that you too 
 are a sufferer,'^ replied Mrs. Trevyllian with 
 friendly warmth. 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you ! You are an 
 angel !" exclaimed Rawdon overcome by the
 
 66 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 fortitude with which she endured her loss, and 
 the kindness of her manner towards himself, 
 by whose advice that loss had been occasioned. 
 
 *' Nothing so sublime ; only an anxious w^ife 
 and mother. You must keep up Henry's 
 spirits should you fail in your endeavours to 
 recover the lost property. Tell him — con- 
 vince him — that whilst he and my children 
 are left, I can bear poverty with cheerfulness. 
 He feels for me far more than for himself." 
 
 " And so he should. You may depend on 
 my doing all that the most zealous friend can 
 do ; your kindness only makes me feel a 
 greater wretch. You may forgive me —but I 
 can never forgive myself.^^ 
 
 Rawdon was true to his word ; he did all 
 that the most zealous friend could do ; but 
 that was little. 
 
 His information had been incorrect ; Down- 
 ing had sailed from another port, and before 
 the friends reached Liverpool was some way 
 across the Atlantic. One of his eager creditors
 
 THE FRIGHT. 67 
 
 followed, but no further tidings could be 
 obtained of the delinquent. 
 
 '^ Where is Henry ?" asked Mrs. Trevyllian 
 of Captain Rawdon a few days after, goi^ig to 
 the door to meet her guest, seeing that he 
 approached the house alone and with a lagg- 
 ing step. 
 
 " He is well — quite well — on my honor," 
 he replied with quickness, seeing that her 
 cheek grew paler, and paler. " Business 
 which I will explain has detained him ; but 1 
 bring a letter." 
 
 " Do not try to deceive me," said the 
 anxious wife. " I read some fresh misfortune 
 in your eyes.' ^ 
 
 " I certainly have the most hang dog counte- 
 nance in the world, and am the most miserable 
 and unfortunate of human beings ; for my face 
 always tells just what it should not tell, whilst 
 my tongue is obliged to confirm the tale. And 
 here are you fainting, because I relate my news so 
 badly," he added half distracted with vexation
 
 68 TflE FUIGIIT. 
 
 as he supported the trembling Mrs. Trevylliaii 
 to a chair. " What an idiot 1 am !" he con- 
 tinued fumbling in vain to untie her cap to 
 give her air, calling on the servants at the 
 same time to come to his assistance, by every 
 name but those really belonging to them. 
 
 " Only tell me that Henry is well — quite 
 well/^ said Mrs. Trevyllian, a burst of tears 
 having saved her from utter insensibility. 
 
 " Quite well, on my honor !" replied Raw- 
 don delighted at her recovery, which he was 
 induced to attribute to his having torn off her 
 cap, finding that he could not untie it. 
 
 " 1 hen where is he ? and what has hap- 
 pened ? I can bear to hear all now ; but do 
 not make me more anxious by delay." 
 
 " I will hesitate no longer then, though I 
 would as soon be hanged as have to tell you,^* 
 replied Rawdon with considerable emotion. 
 " You already know by letter that Downing 
 has escaped with the sum acquired by his wild 
 and sometimes dangerous speculations, carried
 
 THE FRIGHT. 69 
 
 on with other people's money under a sober, 
 and business Uke seeming. This is an occur- 
 rence to be deeply deplored ; but unhappily I 
 have to relate that which is still more distress- 
 ing. You are aware, I believe, that my friend 
 became one of Darby's securities, when that 
 gentleman entered into partnership with Mr. 
 Wood, under the conviction that he should 
 never be called on to pay the four thousand 
 pounds for which he became his surety. This 
 apparently reasonable conviction I am grieved 
 to say, has proved unfounded. After losing all 
 his own, and much of his partner's money at 
 hazard, Darby, unable to endure the pangs of 
 remorse, has committed suicide and his secu- 
 rities have been called on to make good his 
 deficiencies." 
 
 " Where is Henry ?'^ demanded Mrs. Tre- 
 vyllian eagerly. 
 
 " In prison,^' replied llawdon in a faltering 
 voice, finding that he must give an answer.
 
 70 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 The devoted ^vife, uttering a cry of horror, 
 sank back in her chair. 
 
 " Do not hate me ! I have done — I will do 
 all I can/' cried the warm-hearted Rawdon in 
 great emotion. 
 
 " I do not blame — I do not doubt you/' 
 faltered Mrs. Trevyllian, checking her sobs. 
 
 " I said you were more than woman/' cried 
 Rawdon, the tears rolling down his own cheeks 
 for sympathy. ^^ As if one loss was not 
 enough, but that jade Fortune must bring 
 another on its back." 
 
 "Let us not rail atFortune,Captain Rawdon/^ 
 said Mrs. Trevyllian with a gentle gravity. 
 " Our sufferings arise from our own sins and 
 carelessness, or are the inflictions of a higher 
 power; the just punishment of guilt, or the 
 chastening of a Heavenly Father, who corrects 
 in mercy. Instead of deploring the past, let 
 us consider what will be best for the future. 
 My husband, my children, and myself are beg- 
 gars ! I see — I feel all this ! but surely some-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 7l 
 
 thing can be done for his release ? They will 
 not detain him when confinement can only 
 prevent his obtaining the means of payment." 
 
 "Alas, my dear Mrs. Trevyllian ; for the 
 present, I fear he must remain a prisoner. 
 Conscious of his utter inability to pay, Tre- 
 vyllian would not accept of bail even if it could 
 be obtained, and the few hundreds, which is 
 all that Downing's villany has left me, arc not 
 enough to answer the demand, though all 1 
 have shall be at his disposal to repair to the 
 utmost the injury caused by my advice.^' 
 
 " Not so, Captain Rawdon. No blame can 
 attach to you ; — you have suffered with us but 
 must not suffer for us ; do not believe that we 
 have grown so selfish in our poverty. Mr. 
 Darby has a brother, has he not — childless, and 
 affluent ?'' 
 
 " And add to that, cold, selfish, and unfeel- 
 ing," said Rawdon, interrupting her. '• lie 
 has been appealed to, and in vain.^' 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! what can be done ?*' cried Mrs.
 
 72 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Trevyllian, "wringing her hands. " If 1 could 
 but see Henry at Hberty, he has health and 
 strength ; and we would strive, slave, till all 
 Avas paid. Perhaps my aunt might be induced 
 to advance the money .^' 
 
 " If you mean Mrs. Gunning, I grieve to 
 say that your hope is vain. I obtained an 
 interview and related every circumstance, 
 pleading your cause with all the warmth of 
 friendly zeal.^^ 
 
 '^ Well, and with what success ? Surely, she 
 could not have heard your tale unmoved," said 
 Mrs. Trevyllian, seeing that he hesitated. 
 
 " Not exactly — she was much distressed ; 
 but must have time to consider and consult 
 Mr. Gunning. I called again, and she had 
 consulted with her husband. Being only your 
 mother's half-sister, so much could not be 
 expected from her, as if she had been whole 
 blood with Mrs. Lowther, and they had been 
 brought up together. Four thousand pounds 
 was a large sum — they had no ready money at
 
 THE FRIGHT. 73 
 
 command ; and even if they had, an advance 
 Avould only benefit Mr. Wood, not you or your 
 children. Some time hence they would be 
 ready to contribute the little in their power to 
 promote the comfort of their half-niece, and 
 her girls ; but to appear as Mr. Trevyllian^s 
 friends at present, would only make his creditor 
 more inexorable, supposing that his relations 
 would pay his debts; and so they bowed and smil- 
 ed me out of their splendid drawing-room, glit- 
 tering with bijouterie and or-molu, not failing to 
 ring the bell that I might be attended through 
 the hall by two servants in gorgeous liveries. 
 "We must not depend on the Gunnings." 
 
 Mrs. Trevyllian was silent, and her sobs 
 almost broke the heart of the sensitive Rawdon, 
 who stammered out some confused attempts at 
 consolation. One of these unintelligible sen- 
 tences at length attracted his hearer's attention, 
 and she looked up with a sudden gleam of hope, 
 "When convinced of Henry's poverty, surely 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Mr. Wood, considering the hardship of liis 
 case, will no longer detain him.^' 
 
 Rawdon shook his head. " Roguery abounds 
 so much, that it is difficult for honest men to 
 obtain belief; and Wood persists in thinking 
 that Mr. Rolleston will come forward on such 
 an occasion." 
 
 ^' I had forgotten Mr. Rolleston : he cannot 
 resist our appeaV^ exclaimed Mrs. Trevyllian, 
 starting up with sudden energy. 
 
 Poor Rawdon was in utter despair, as he 
 thought of the canoe, — his own unceremonious 
 exit from Rolleston Court, and its owner's for- 
 bidding aspect, and unforgiving temper. 
 
 " You will go with us, will you not,^' asked 
 Mrs. TrevyUian, never heeding his dismay. 
 '^ The quarrel was long since, and time has, I 
 trust, subdued his anger." 
 
 " It is a step that requires consideration," 
 stammered Rawdon. 
 
 ^^ Consideration — what do you mean ? Shall
 
 THE FRIGHT. 'J5 
 
 I not appeal to my husband^s uncle, because 
 nine years ago he banished his nephew for a 
 trifling disgust ? Rich, and with none to in- 
 herit his wealth, he will not refuse us some 
 small portion of his abundance at such a mo- 
 ment. We ask not a gift — we ask only a 
 loan.'^ 
 
 " You do not know Mr. Rolleston, my dear 
 Mrs. Trevyllian ; he never quarrels for trifles, 
 and never forgets an offence. He has refused 
 to hold any communication with my friend in 
 person or by letter.'* 
 
 *^ He did so formerly, but now — " 
 " Believe me, my dear madam, you will 
 find him unchanged — unchangeable. At my 
 request, a friend of Mr. Rolleston's, that is, if 
 he has a friend, mentioned your husband's 
 unhappy situation and pleaded his cause as 
 strongly as he dared. The reply was brief and 
 peremptory, — ^ Trevyllian choose liis course 
 and must abide the consequences.* — I should 
 have spared you the pain of hearing this re- 
 E 2
 
 76 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 fusal, had you not proposed a visit to Rolles- 
 ton Court/' 
 
 ^' Such might have been his answer to a 
 comparative stranger^ but he could not look 
 unmoved on his nephew's wife and children^'' 
 observed Mrs. Trevyllian^ unwilling to relin- 
 quish her sole remaining hope. 
 
 " He is the only man who could^" replied 
 Captain Rawdon, as he gazed on the anxious 
 wife^ and thought of her interesting children. 
 
 '^ We will not think him unlike other men^ 
 or believe that he can hear untouched the 
 prayers of childhood," said Mrs. Trevyllian, 
 catching at his words as indicating some little 
 hope of softening Mr. RoUeston. " Let us at 
 least make the endeavour ; and do not damp 
 my courage with that mistrustful look.'' 
 
 Rawdon's look was certainly most discou- 
 raging as he said : — " May I ask if you are 
 aware of the ground of quarrel between my 
 friend and his uncle ?'* 
 
 " Some sudden caprice, I believe, on Mr.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 77 
 
 RoUeston's part with ^vhich Henry declined 
 complying ; but at my husband^s request^ I 
 made no enquiries^ as the subject was evidently 
 painful." 
 
 '^ Not being aware of the cause of quarrel^ 
 my dear madam, you might by some inadver- 
 tent word widen the breach," cried Rawdon, 
 thinking this a triumphant argument against 
 the visit. 
 
 Struck with his manner Mrs. Trevyllian 
 looked keenly on the speaker ; and as his 
 cheek flushed, hers grew more pale. 
 
 " Tell me ! tell me truly ! was I the cause 
 of this disagreement ? For the first time the 
 idea has come across me, and I remember now 
 it was immediately after my change of fortune. 
 Do not try to frame an answer that may de- 
 ceive me : — 1 read the truth in your silence. 
 Kind, noble, generous Trevyllian ! never has a 
 word escaped him that could lead me to sus- 
 pect the fact. And yet how much he must;
 
 78 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 have yielded for my sake," exclaimed the wife 
 with a burst of affection. 
 
 " I deeply regret that your questions — " be- 
 gan Rawdon in great embarrassment. 
 
 ^^ Have elicited the truth you would say/' 
 continued the lady. " Do not regret this ; it 
 is due to my husband that his generous deli- 
 cacy should be revealed ; and there is much 
 joy mingled with my pain. Before I loved 
 him — now I could almost worship him ; — not 
 for nine years to hint one murmur or upbraid- 
 ing ! What is the glory of the statesman, or 
 the warrior to such unselfish tenderness ? A life 
 devoted to his happiness cannot repay him." 
 
 Rawdon listened in surprise to this sudden 
 burst from one usually so calm and gentle ; 
 and as he looked upon her, radiant with the 
 beauty of the heart's noblest feelings, love and 
 gratitude, — with her hands clasped and her 
 eyes filled with tears, he considered Trevyllian 
 more than repaid by the devotion of such a 
 woman ; nay, he believed that could Mr. Rol-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 7^ 
 
 leston have seen her at that moment even his 
 stern temper would have been subdued. 
 
 " 1 must shew myself worthy of his regard, 
 and not waste in tears the energies that should 
 be spent in action/^ she continued, after a few 
 minutes* silence. " Did Mr. RoUeston object 
 only to my want of fortune ?" 
 
 " He made no other objection to his ne- 
 phew." 
 
 " One more question ; and you must answer 
 candidly. Do you think that my visit would 
 incense Mr. Rolleston more, or did you only 
 oppose my wishes lest our meeting should 
 lead to a painful disclosure ?" 
 
 *^ The latter was my only motive. Mr. Rol- 
 leston's enmity, I should imagine, beyond 
 increase ; and he might consider your appeal 
 as a fresh triumph, which would not displease 
 him." 
 
 " Then I go to my husband's uncle,'^ said 
 Mrs. Trevyllian firmly. 
 
 " Never having seen Mr. Rolleston, you
 
 80 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 cannot guess what you may have to en- 
 counter." 
 
 ^^ I fear no harshness to myself; I only fear 
 lest my appeal should fail ; but if deaf to my 
 prayers, he cannot resist the entreaties of my 
 innocent children ; they at least have not 
 offended him ; and we will go hoping that He 
 who rules the hearts of men will soften his."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 81 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In the afternoon of the succeeding day, a 
 traveUing carriage entered the park at Rolles- 
 ton, to the great surprise of the porter, who 
 rarely admitted such an object ; and as it 
 passed up the stately avenue a lady leant from 
 the window with an eager, anxious look; but 
 that look did not brighten into hope as she 
 gazed around. 
 
 Who shall account for the freaks of the 
 imagination? — the force of associations? — the 
 sudden sympathies and antipathies of the 
 £ 5
 
 82 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 human heart? — or the power of presentiment 
 — that mental second sight ? One moment 
 the spirit is Hght and buoyant as a winged 
 bird flitting through the air ; now hovering 
 over fragrant flowers — then darting upwards 
 into the azure sky with a bold and rapid 
 flight ; — the next the spirit lies broken — crush- 
 ed, — the victim of the body, or of thought. 
 The buoyant bird is bowed to earth — its plu- 
 mage soiled — its gay wings broken ; — it may 
 not soar again. Time after time will these 
 dark forebodings, these gloomy shadowings of 
 the things to come, prove but false prophets ; 
 yet time after time will they hush the joyous 
 laugh — dim the bright eye — dispel the rain- 
 bow dream of hope ; and chain the spirit down 
 to dungeon gloom. 
 
 But a few short minutes since and Mrs. 
 Trevyllian^s hopes of softening his uncle, and 
 effecting her husband's immediate release had 
 been little short of certainties ; but as Rolles- 
 ton Court appeared in view her certainty gave
 
 THE FRIGHT. 83 
 
 place to doubt — her hopes to fears. Whether 
 there really was any thing awful and chilling 
 in tjiie regularity of the stately avenue^ and the 
 heavy pile of building themselves^ or whether 
 they only conveyed that idea from being asso- 
 ciated by Rawdon's description with the stern 
 formality of the owner ; or whether her dread 
 was only the natural consequence of her in- 
 creased anxiety as the moment of the awful 
 encounter drew near, Mrs. Trevyllian did not 
 endeavour to ascertain ; all she knew, all she 
 felt, was that despondency which if it pre- 
 cedes, almost as frequently occasions a failure. 
 She looked at Rawdon, who had accompa- 
 nied her, for reassurance ; but his feelings 
 were the same, and he turned away. She 
 looked at the children, and saw, or fancied, a 
 gravity and gloom on their young counte- 
 nances which she had never seen before. She 
 thought of the awful man in whose presence 
 she was so soon to stand, and her hopes, and 
 her courage died away. Had the boon she
 
 84 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 desired been for herself alone, that boon would 
 have been vuisought ; but when her thoughts 
 recurred to him, who, for her sake, had sacri- 
 ficed the rich inheritance around, her drooping 
 courage half revived. They had taken no 
 servant lest an inadvertent betrayal of their 
 names should prevent their admission ; but 
 the reply that Mr. Rolleston was at home, in 
 answer to Rawdon's question, was given in a 
 hesitating tone. The formal butler and foot- 
 man who by a long attendance on their stately 
 master had become, as Rawdon declared, little 
 better than mechanised automatons, contrary 
 to that gentleman's expectations, recognised 
 him at once ; and putting two and two to- 
 gether guessed the name of the lady ; but as 
 she declined being announced, and their orders 
 only extended to a refusal of admittance to 
 Mr. and Mrs. Trevyllian. they did not choose 
 to go beyond those orders, and turn away a 
 would be stranger. 
 
 ^^ How could we know, Mrs. Hurst_, that
 
 THE FRIGHT. 8'> 
 
 the lady was the Avife of my master's nephew ? 
 And then she looked so sad^ and so earnest ; 
 and the little miss was such a beauty," said 
 they afterwards to the old housekeeper, 
 
 " Courage, my dear Mrs. Trevyllian, and 
 God be with you !" said Rawdon kindly, as 
 after leading her across the hall, he left her to 
 the further guidance of the servant, judging 
 that his presence would not prove advantage- 
 ous to her suit Mr. Rolleston was seated in 
 an arm chair by the fire in his splendid library. 
 The book which he had taken up had been 
 allowed unconsciously to drop on his laiee, as 
 the past with its long train of recollections sad 
 and joyous rose in array before him. To judge 
 from the expression of his features, the reign of 
 hope had been as brief as the sunshine of an 
 April day ; and storms had risen ere its dawn 
 had brightened into joy. His eye had the 
 same keen look which chilled from shewing 
 no sympathy with mortal man — his lips the 
 same stern compression ; but his brow was
 
 86 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 more thtin usually contracted ; — its habitual 
 frown deeper, darker ; whilst occasionally those 
 searching eyes kindled into a gleam of vindic- 
 tive triumph. The works of genius from all 
 climes and ages — the thoughts that thrill, 
 and words that burn, were all around him ; 
 but his mind was not with them. The glow- 
 ing visions of the enthusiast — the poet's 
 beauteous dreams — the clear and convincing 
 arguments of the philosopher — the subtle 
 schemes of the mere politician — the elevated 
 hopes of the real patriot — the stirring deeds of 
 the warrior — were, at that moment, all as 
 nought to him ; — ^one dark and gloomy passion 
 ruled his soul, rolling its noisome flood over all 
 things fair and lovely, whelming beneath its 
 turbid waves, love, gentleness and pity. 
 
 The announcement of a lady roused him 
 from his gloomy reverie, and as Mrs. Tre- 
 vyllian advanced leading her children, he 
 started up, gazing on her with a keen, wild 
 look ; then muttering some unintelligible words.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 87 
 
 he sank back again into his easy chair, and sat 
 for some moments silent, whilst varying ex- 
 pressions chased each other across his agitated 
 countenance. 
 
 " Forgive me this abrupt intrusion/' said 
 Mrs. Tre/ylHan, surprised at his strange 
 emotion. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston raised his head at those low 
 tones, so sweet, so sad ; — looked from her to 
 her children ; — then, controlling all sign of 
 feeling with a powerful effort, sat proudly 
 erect, eyeing his visitors with that cold, stern 
 gaze, from which the boldest turned away ; 
 and from which his nephew's wife and girls 
 shrank awed and abashed. 
 
 " What does Mrs. Trevyllian seek of 
 Thomas Rolleston, that she forces herself into 
 his presence uninvited, and unwished for?" 
 he demanded with a haughty tone, as she 
 stood trembling before him, neither asking 
 her by word or look to take a seat, but rejoic- 
 ing in her embaiTassment.
 
 88 TIIK FRIGHT. 
 
 <c 
 
 As you have guessed my name, so may 
 you guess my purpose. I come to plead for 
 pity — to ask your aid to free my husband, and 
 your nephew from a prison. We are now 
 destitute ; — with none to lielp us in our 
 poverty. I do not ask a gift, I am no craving 
 beggar that would live idly on another's 
 bounty ;— I do but ask a loan to set him free, 
 and we will slave, yea, night and day till we 
 can pay it back ; and bless you all the while. 
 Look not thus coldly on my suit ! — close not 
 your ears against my prayers ?' pleaded the 
 trembling speaker still more fervently, clasp- 
 ing her hands, and bending towards him iu 
 her agony, for not a gleam of pity was in 
 those keen, cold eyes. " He is your nephew 
 — your only sister's son ; — you loved him once 
 — let him not languish in confinement ! Oh 
 doom him not to perish of a broken heart ! 
 The wide domain — the hoarded gold — the 
 pomp of wealth — what are all these compared 
 to the fond prayers and blessings of the
 
 THE FIIIGIIT. S9 
 
 grateful heart — the tears that fall for joy — the 
 following looks — the faltering tones^ that say, 
 — to you I owe this happiness ?" 
 
 '' Madam, your eloquence is vain ; 1 know 
 the worth of gratitude, or what men nickname 
 such. I nursed the puling boy till he became 
 a man ; and then he turned and stung me. 
 Your husband had his choice — the heir of 
 RoUeston Court, or husband of Grace Low- 
 ther ; — he chose the latter — and must abide 
 his choice ! — It would have shewn more 
 delicacy in his wife had she not sought 
 my presence, knowing that 1 preferred her 
 absence.^* 
 
 " Pardon this visit !" said Mrs. Trevyllian 
 humbly, her hopes, if hopes they could be 
 called, growing fainter and fainter as she 
 listened to his cruel words, uttered in a tone 
 so slow, so haughty, so distinct. " No lesser 
 suffering should have tempted me to such dis- 
 pleasing boldness ; but there is no one else in
 
 DO THE FRIGHT. 
 
 this wide world, who has the will and power 
 to assist us." 
 
 ^^ The poor do well to court and flatter 
 their rich relatives; but those rich relatives 
 may recollect the time when their advice was 
 scorned — their care despised — and their affec- 
 tion trampled on." 
 
 " Oh, say not so ! even to this day your 
 nephew's strong affection is unchanged ; and 
 his first earthly hope has ever been a recon- 
 ciliation." 
 
 '* I have no nephew, madam. I had one 
 once ; but he preferred a wife to his old worth- 
 less uncle ; and since then I look upon him as 
 a stranger.*' 
 
 " And I was the unhappy cause of this," 
 exclaimed Mrs. Trevyllian, wringing her hands 
 whilst her tears fell fast. " And yet till 
 yesterday I never guessed this truth." 
 
 " Indeed ! I understood you had no secrets 
 from each other; but were as one in mind
 
 THE FRIGHT. 91 
 
 and heart ; the wonder of the simple — the 
 marvel of the learned, who had never seen 
 such wedded happiness before. How am I to 
 credit this concealment?'*. 
 
 " Your knowledge of my husband's generous 
 temper should teach you to believe it ; I ask 
 you not to credit that had I known this sooner 
 I had never been his bride.'^ 
 
 " You do wisely in requiring no such 
 belief/^ said Mr. Rolleston interrupting her. 
 " Twelve thousand pounds and a handsome 
 person, with the fancy, vain as it was, that the 
 old curmudgeon of an uncle would relent, was 
 not such a very bad speculation for a girl who 
 had less gold than beauty, and perhaps more 
 wit than either ; though she has shewn but 
 little of the latter by seeking this interview at 
 her husband^s command ; an unwelcome 
 visitor should expect nothing but denial and 
 rebuke.^^ 
 
 " You wrong me, Mr. Rolleston ; deeply 
 wrong me by these suspicions ; you wrong
 
 92 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Henry in supposing that "wealth could weigh 
 Avith me in comparison with his worth. You 
 have been in the world — you have traced the 
 hidden motives of the base and worldly, and 
 your judgment has been warped and darkened 
 by your knowledge of the few (the many if 
 you will) but all are not alike the slaves and 
 servants of self interest. Your knowledge of 
 your nephew should have undeceived you — 
 should have taught you that there are some 
 with hearts the shrine of high and generous 
 thoughts. On learning my loss of fortune, I 
 wrote to free him from his engagement." 
 
 " Did you believe that he would avail him- 
 self of your generosity ?" asked Mr. Rolleston 
 sarcastically. 
 
 " No !" replied Mrs. Trevyllian firmly. 
 " He only acted as I expected in shewing 
 himself more devoted, more anxious for our 
 union ; but had I known that my consent to 
 his wishes would have deprived him of his 
 inheritance, and still worse in his estimation,
 
 THE FRIGHT. 93 
 
 estranged him from his uncle, the choice 
 should not have rested with him but with me ; 
 — we had parted to meet no more." 
 
 " You would have acted wisely, madam, 
 had you so done. Six hundred a year is very 
 different to twelve thousand ; and now since 
 even that is gone, you may well regret ^your 
 decision ; your beauty might have procured a 
 more splendid establishment, and you would 
 not have been the first, and doubtless not the 
 last, fair manceuvrer, who has veiled worldly 
 views under the graceful mask of prudence or 
 generosity.'^ 
 
 " You must think of me as you will, for it 
 would be vain to defend myself to one who 
 wishes to believe me guilty, but think of your 
 nephew as he deserves. Nine years have I 
 been his wife, and never once has he hinted by 
 word or look the sacrifice he made for mc. 
 Had I brought him millions instead of poverty 
 his affection could not have been more devot- 
 ed or more constant."
 
 94 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " You are truly fortunate, madam. Doubt- 
 less the devotion of the tender husband will 
 grow still more sublime in a prison, and com- 
 pensate for worldly cares. Yours is a most 
 romantic tale ; — place it in the hands of some 
 liberal publisher — it might make your fortune. 
 But since this devoted husband did at length 
 enlighten you as to the real cause of our es- 
 trangement, his marvellous affection should 
 have spared you this degrading appeal ; and 
 your wonderful discretion should have taught 
 you its inutility ; — as you have come, however, 
 bear him this message. Say that 1 am un- 
 changed — unchangeable. I predicted woe — 
 and woe has come ; — I would have made him 
 rich — ^he is a beggar! — he might have been 
 the heir of Ilolleston Court — he is the inmate 
 of a prison ! I bade him, as he feared my 
 curse, wed not Grace Lowther — he heard my 
 words but did not heed them ! I have wealth 
 — but it is not for him ; — he has no uncle — I 
 no nephew. Now^ go and tell him all that 1
 
 THE FRIGHT. 95 
 
 have said, omitting not one single word ; — then 
 see if the affection of nine years will not lose 
 all its sweetness and turn sour ; — the eye that 
 once looked love — glare hate ; — the tongue 
 that used such honied words, speak bitter 
 taunts/' 
 
 " Oh, no ! I cannot tell him this ! — recall 
 that cruel speech," exclaimed Mrs. Trevyllian, 
 shrinking from his touch, for he had risen and 
 grasped her arm as he spoke, looking into her 
 face with an almost fiendish glare that made 
 her shudder. '' Blame him not I entreat, I 
 implore you ! Let all your anger rest on me, 
 for I alone deserve it ! It was not from 
 Henry that I learnt the evil I had caused him ; 
 — it is not at his desire that I stand before 
 you ; — he knows not of my being here. On 
 me pour all your wrath and scorn ; I will not 
 say one word in my defence ; but rob me not 
 of his affection ! Yet even that rather than 
 let him pine and starve. You look upon me 
 with a stern unpitying gaze — you mock my
 
 96 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 agony — you triumph in my tears ! Do this ! 
 — do more ! — say all that \\rath can say to 
 uound and crush, but let the pity you refuse 
 to me be not denied to him and his. I am 
 a ^vife, and plead for him uhom you once 
 loved ; — one near to you in blood, the child 
 you nurtured with a father's care — ^Yho held 
 you in a father's reverence. If he once crossed 
 your wishes it was that he believed his honor 
 claimed the sacrifice." 
 
 " It was no sacrifice — and that you know. 
 — He loved you better than his uncle : — 
 he preached of honour — but the lure was 
 beauty." 
 
 '^ I may have tempted him to woe unwit- 
 tingly, but these, his children they have done 
 no wrong. For them I plead : — they need a 
 father's watchful care. Go not 1" she con- 
 tinued as he turned to leave the room. 
 " Even on my knees I do entreat your pity : 
 Kneel — kneel my children and implore your 
 uncle's blessing ! Plead for your father — win
 
 THE FRIGHT. 9? 
 
 his pai'Jon ! — he cannot look upon your help- 
 less innocence yet not be touched ! — he can- 
 not listen to your childish tones, and still be 
 obdurate !" 
 
 " Ha ! you and your children kneeling at 
 my feet ! — your fate depending on my will !— 
 this is revenge !" exclaimed Mr. Rolleston, 
 whilst a wild gleam shot from his eyes, and 
 his thin lips were wreathed with a triumphant 
 smile. " Come, children, where is the elo- 
 quence of which your mother boasts, that 
 eloquence which shall subdue the stern and 
 obdurate, and win your father Rolleston Court ? 
 You shall begin — your mother's pride — fair 
 beauty, with the locks of gold. Commence 
 your tutored speech ! What silent ? Can you 
 say nothing ?" he continued still addressing 
 Julia, who, cowering beneath his look, hid her 
 face in her mother's gown, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 '^ Psha, child ! you do no credit to your 
 mistress ; your mother's beauty but without 
 your mother's cunning wit. It rests with you 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 98 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 then, sickly brat/* he added, extending his 
 hand towards Grace. " Can you not coax 
 and cozen me to be a puppet in your hands ? 
 Come, child, what would you say to me ?" 
 
 " Go, away ! you are a bad, wicked man, 
 for making mamma cry,^' exclaimed the child 
 boldly, and proudly, drawing back from his 
 touch, and meeting his look, though the tears 
 stood in her eyes as she spoke^ and rolled down 
 her pallid cheeks. 
 
 " You have a bold spirit, lisping little one, 
 that needs the humbling touch of poverty ; I 
 could not answer it to my conscience to 
 restore you to prosperity, till penury had 
 crushed your pride,'^ replied Mr, Rolleston 
 his cheek flushing at her words ; then turn- 
 ing to Mrs Trevyliian he cotinued in the same 
 bitter tone. " Your children, madam, do honor 
 to your tutoring ; permit me to congratulate 
 you on their eloquence." 
 
 " Heed not the simple words of childhood ! 
 Leave me not without one ray of hope !" ex-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 99 
 
 claimed Mrs. Trevyllian wildly, making an 
 effort to detain him. 
 
 '^ Must I bear insult upon insult^ and in my 
 own house }'' cried Mr. Rolleston in increasing 
 wrath. 
 
 " Call it not insult ! — she knew not what 
 she said. Be merciful to him, and visit not 
 upon your nephew the errors of his wife. Lend 
 for a time a little portion of your wealth, and 
 it shall be repaid upon your own conditions.^' 
 
 " You are a bold and shameless beggar, 
 madam ; disgracing him whose name you bear 
 by such abject supplications ; but I will grant 
 your prayer on one condition, and put your 
 generous self-denial to the proof. Your hus- 
 band shall be freed — but you shall never see 
 that husband, or those children more !" 
 
 A cry of agony was all the answer of the 
 wife and mother. 
 
 "What is your decision, madam ?^' ques- 
 tioned Mr. Rolleston sternly. 
 
 " Not that ! not that ! say any thing but 
 F 2
 
 100 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 that !" exclaimed Mrs. Trevyllian clasping her 
 hands, and raising her streaming eyes to his in 
 passionate entreaty. 
 
 ^' That — and that only !" he replied with 
 horrible distinctness. 
 
 " Then you refuse to comply with my sole 
 condition ;" he continued, finding that she 
 did not speak. " When you see your children 
 and your husband wasting away ; — when you 
 lay them in the grave, then think that to you 
 they owe their doom, and let the thought be 
 with you till your dying hour." 
 
 " Stay ! one moment stay !" murmured the 
 half fainting wife, horror stricken at his fear- 
 ful words : but Mr. Rolleston broke from the 
 hands that would have clasped his knees, and 
 strode across the apartment, thus unexpectedly 
 fronting Rawdon, who, hearing Mrs Trevylli- 
 an's cry and Julia's sobs had entered the 
 chamber the preceding instant, and heard his 
 concluding words and offer. 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Rolleston starting
 
 THE FRIGHT. 101 
 
 iu surprise and anger. " This day is to see 
 me highly honoured ; I was not aware of your 
 presence.'^ 
 
 '* So I concluded, " replied Rawdon point- 
 edly, his indignation at his host's unmanly 
 cruelty conquering the embarrassment, w'hich 
 he would otherwise have felt at their meeting. 
 
 " Are you too come to request a loan ?" 
 demanded Mr. Rolleston with bitter irony, 
 the fever spot of passionc oming into his 
 sallow cheek at Rawdon's tone, which had told 
 his opinion of his conduct to his nephew's 
 wife. 
 
 " No sir!" answered Rawdon firmly, giving 
 back look for look, yet endeavouring to con- 
 trol his anger, that it might not prejudice his 
 friend. " I only accompanied Mrs. Trevyllian 
 on her journey ; but did not enter with her, 
 fearing lest my folly at our last meeting might 
 make me an unwelcome guest." 
 
 " You show a most laudable candour and 
 humility when speaking of yourself," replied
 
 102 THE FRlGlir. 
 
 his host with a grim smile ; " and your en- 
 trance just at the right moment proves you to 
 be as quick in hearing as in acting/* 
 
 *^ I am no eavesdropper, Mr. Rolleston, if 
 that is what you mean/' said Rawdon warmly. 
 " I heard the cry of your nephew's wife, the 
 sobs of your nephew's child, and came to 
 afford them that protection, which I had not 
 supposed they could require at Rolleston 
 Court." 
 
 '' You were ever a Knight Errant, Captain 
 Rawdon. The back door shall be opened for 
 your exit — the canoe got ready to convey you 
 across the lake." 
 
 " I deserve your rebuke, Mr. Rolleston, and 
 will endeavour to endure it patiently," said 
 Rawdon, inwardly fretting at his host's sar- 
 casm. '' Nor can I forget that to you I owe 
 my life." 
 
 '^ Let not the weight of that obligation dis- 
 tress you; a coroner's Inquest would have hurt 
 ray dignity."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 103 
 
 Rawdon's conscious start would have satis- 
 fied Mr. Rolleston that he had quoted his 
 guest's words correctly, had he entertained 
 any doubt on the subject, whilst that guest 
 wished himself at the top of the pyramids, or 
 the bottom of the great Cornish mine, or in 
 any other equally comfortable abode, so that 
 he had been beyond the range of that trium- 
 phant gaze. Who had repeated the remark 
 be could not guess ; but that it had been re- 
 peated was certain ; and that his host was en- 
 joying his confusion was equally evident. 
 
 " That I have been a fool more than once in 
 my life, Mr. Rolleston, there is no denying,'^ 
 began Rawdon, unable to conceal his vexation. 
 ^' Then be wise for the future ; — look to your 
 own concerns alone, and neither meddle with 
 a friend's money, nor his wife ;" added Mr. 
 Rolleston. 
 
 " Your advice comes too late, sir ; and hav- 
 ing already lost my friend's money and atten- 
 ded his wife on her journey, I must conclude
 
 104 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 my enterprise by i)lca(liiig his cause. Through 
 inc is Trevylhaii a prisoner ; let me therefore 
 be permitted to ap})eal in his behalf, and that 
 of his wife and daughters. Look at those 
 weeping children, clinging round their faint- 
 ing mother ! look at the agony impressed upon 
 her features ! forget your anger ! — be their 
 guardian, and their friend ! — their more than 
 parent !" 
 
 " Those who caused the evil should repair 
 it,^^ replied Mr. Rollcston, glancing with an 
 unsoftened look at Mrs. Trcvyllian, whose 
 palid cheek was resting upon Julians shoulder, 
 the convulsive heaving of her bosom the only 
 sign of life. 
 
 '^ If that had been in my power, sir, I should 
 not have applied to you : but 1 too have lost 
 my all by Downing's villany, except a few 
 hundred pounds, and my commission. The 
 former shall be at Trevyllian's disposal ; and 
 if you will advance the remainder of the sum 
 required, the half of my pay shall be pledged
 
 THE FRIGHT. 105 
 
 for your repayment with any interest you may 
 
 name/' 
 
 " 1 am no usurer^ Captain Rawdon/' repli- 
 ed his inexorable host, unmoved by this gene- 
 rous proposal. '* I have offered to lend the 
 money on one condition ; — by that offer I ^vill 
 abide if accepted within eight-and-forty hours ; 
 but to more than that neither prayers, nor 
 tears shall urge me. — Repeat this to Tre- 
 vyllian.^* 
 
 " I would cut out my tongue first," ex- 
 claimed his hearer indignantly. 
 
 " As you please. Captain Rawdon : — you 
 have a right to do what you will with your 
 own. and perhaps had you exercised that right 
 before we had been better friends ; but re- 
 member that I have an equal privilege. My 
 ex-nephew has chosen a most winning, and 
 conciliating ambassador." 
 
 "■' Far from being your nephew's ambassa- 
 dor, he does not even know of my visit," re- 
 plied Rawdon in a less excited tone, vexed at 
 F 5
 
 JOG THE FRIGHT. 
 
 his own impetuosity. " If I have been be- 
 trayed by ray zeal into any intemperance of 
 language, I am ready to make every apology, 
 and entreat you to excuse it as the effect of 
 my remorse at having ruined my friend. Cen- 
 sure me as you will, you cannot blame me 
 more than I blame myself; but let not the in- 
 discretion or demerit of the pleader injure the 
 cause of him for whom he pleads. I will not 
 urge upon you the opinion of the world, for I 
 know that you despise it ; but I will appeal to 
 your own heart. Can you know peace whilst 
 your sister's son is left to pine w^ithin a prison 
 — to waste his manhood in despair aud penury 
 Youth cannot calculate like age ; — the old 
 man reasons, whilst the young one loves. — 
 And shall one act, and one alone for he was 
 dutiful in all beside, — shall this one act — call 
 it a rash one if you will — make him an alien 
 from your hearth ? a stranger to your love ? 
 can all affection be destroyed by one hasty 
 deed ? He has no father, and no mother, —
 
 THE FRIGHT. 107 
 
 the very tomb sends forth a voice to plead 
 for him. And for his fault — is there not some 
 excuse? Look at that lovely lady and her 
 lovely children. What if she had not wealth ? 
 For nine years she has shared his home, mak- 
 ing that home a paradise ; — no frown upon her 
 brow — no sharp word on her tongue ; — her 
 greatest enemy can bring no charge against 
 her, but her poverty. Her father, though de- 
 prived of wealth by unforeseen misfortunes was 
 a man of worth and honor; — her mother fair 
 as painter^s dream, and of a character so pure, 
 and so exalted — '\ 
 
 " Am I to be thus bearded by a stranger ? 
 I will hear no more !" exclaimed Mr. Rollcs- 
 ton with a burst of rage, stamping his foot 
 and glaring on the speaker. " Depart ! lest I 
 send menials who shall drive you forth! And 
 take away that woman and her howling brats. 
 Tell Henry that I triumph in his pangs, which 
 but fulfil my prophecy ; and that if my right 
 hand proffered gold, my left should cut it off.*'
 
 108 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Before lliiwdon luul recovered from the 
 sliock of this sudden ebulhtioii, which forbade 
 all further hope, Mr. Rollcston had left the 
 room, Hinging back the door with a violence 
 that shook the house. 
 
 Nothing was left for the zealous friend but 
 to depart as bidden, and save Mrs. Trevyllian 
 from further insult. With the assistance of 
 the butler and housekeeper, who entered the 
 room almost immediately after by their master's 
 order, and who, in spite of their formal and 
 mechanical manner, shewed more spmpathy 
 than would have pleased that master, Mrs. 
 Trevydlian was soon sufficiently restored to re- 
 enter her carriage, and prosecute her melan- 
 choly joui'ney to town. 
 
 Trevyllian heard his wife's softened account 
 of her visit to his uncle with many thanks for 
 the zeal of herself and Rawdon ; and an em- 
 brace with a few murmured words, that told 
 how little he should have prized his freedom 
 if purchased by a separation.
 
 THE FRiGirr. 109 
 
 "Neither reproach me, Grace; nor think 
 me more than mortal for having concealed tlie 
 cause of my disagreement with my uncle/' 
 replied her husband in answer to her expres- 
 sions of gratitude and admiration. " Had 
 you but guessed the truth you would not have 
 become my bride, and I loved you too well to 
 lose you. There required not one moment^s 
 consideration to decide that I would rather 
 be Grace Lowther's husband, than the heir of 
 Rolleston Court ; and never for one moment 
 have I repented of my choice; not even now 
 when the inmate of a prison with nothing but 
 penury before me. Let my uncle do what he 
 will with his gold — let him say what he will 
 of his nephew — that nephew cannot forget the 
 care bestowed on his childhood. The upbraid- 
 ings of his own heart will be far more bitter 
 than any I could utter ; — he will not relent, 
 but he will not be able to hush remorse. I 
 grieve, love, that you should have borne in- 
 sults for me ; but let us cling the closer in our
 
 1 10 TIIK FRIGHT. 
 
 (lay of trial. And stay those tears, sweet wife, 
 lest when 1 look on you and on our children 
 I should become a w'oman and weep too. We 
 arc beggars ; but we are still together." 
 
 Mrs. Trevyllian did stay the tears that 
 pained her husband, and the warm hearted 
 Rawdon declaring, as he marked her quiet 
 cheerfulness and devoted attentions, that she 
 was more than mortal, exerted himself with 
 greater zeal to procure his friend's release and 
 provide for his future support ; but as he found 
 few as generous as himself, his success was 
 far from satisfying his anxious friendship. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston's determination not to assist 
 liis nephew or hold fellowship with any one 
 who did was generally known, and tended not 
 a little to increase his difficulties, as Trevyl- 
 lian's connections on his mother's side did not 
 clioose by offending that gentleman to lose all 
 chance of becoming his heir, whilst his con- 
 nections on his father's side were few, distant, 
 and in poverty. After some weeks of un-
 
 THE FRIGHT. Ill 
 
 wearied exertion the best that Rawdon could 
 effect was an arrangement with his former in- 
 exorable creditor. Convinced by .arther en- 
 quiry of Trevyllian's integrity, Mr. Wood 
 proposed his undertaking the superintendence 
 of some large Indigo plantations in the East^ 
 binding himself to remain for ten (years should 
 Mr. Wood require it ;) — the four thousand 
 pounds to be paid byannual deductions from his 
 salary. Even this was only effected by Raw- 
 don's pledging his own pay to a certain extent, 
 should his friend's health so suffer from the 
 climate as to prevent his fulfiUing the engage- 
 ment. Of course so prolonged a residence in 
 India compelled a separation between husband 
 and wife, or parents and children ; — and who 
 would furnish the outfit of those who were to 
 go, or the maintenance of those who were to 
 remain, the passage being all for which Mr. 
 Wood would provide? As a last resource, 
 Kawdon again waited on the Gunnings, who 
 had only paid their half-niece, as they were
 
 112 TIIK FUIGIIT. 
 
 caici'ul to call her, one brief, cold visit, and 
 with them he found Mr. Bradley, a second 
 cousin of Mr. Rolleston's, a kindhcarted squire, 
 so well j)leased with country sports, and 
 country occupations, particularly farming his 
 own estates, that his visits to town, to use an 
 unhaeknied expression, were * like an angeFs 
 visit short, and far between.' Living in dif- 
 ferent counties, and with different pursuits, he 
 had seen Trevvllian but once s:ince his marri- 
 age, yet one of the items in his memorandum 
 book, mixed in with inquiries concerning 
 ploughs, horses, and bone manure, was to 
 learn the truth of the reports concerning his 
 cousin's loss and imprisonment, which had 
 reached the i emote corner in which he resided j 
 and for this purpose he had that morning 
 called on Mis. Gunning, who was an old 
 acquaintance. " A very good thing indeed ! 1 
 am sure Trevyllian should feel much obliged 
 to you," observed Mr. Gunning after hearing 
 the arrangement with Mr. Wood from Raw-
 
 THE Fill GUT. ■ 113 
 
 don, who had come to consult with him as to 
 the means of carrying it into eilect, before he 
 proposed it to his friend. — " A very good 
 thing indeed !" repeated Mr. Gunning, Mrs. 
 TrevyUian's half-uncle by marriage, delighted 
 at the prospect of shipping a poor relation ofi' 
 for India, and thus being freed from the dis- 
 grace of her poverty and the dread of being- 
 compelled to contribute to her support. " The 
 East is the place for making money ; and he 
 will come back a nabob, I daresay; he can 
 begin with ventures for others — then for him- 
 self — and so return rolling in riches." 
 
 " You forget that TrevyUian's time will be 
 fully occupied with Mr. Wood's plantations, 
 and that he has no capital for ventures," 
 answered Rawdon gravely, disgusted at his 
 host's selfishness. 
 
 "Oh! as for the money, he must save; — 
 and for the time, get up a little earlier, and go 
 to bed a little later; he has good healthy and
 
 114 ' THE FRIGHT. 
 
 must stir himself to pay off his debt," remark- 
 ed Mr. Gunning, colouring slightly at Raw- 
 don's rebuking tone. 
 
 ^' Trevyllian is an honourable fellow, and I 
 am sure will do all he can ; but one cannot 
 work as one does here in the East where every 
 day is like one of the dog days, and they have 
 no proper agricultural instruments," replied 
 the good-natured Mr. Bradley, who had ac- 
 quired a horror of Indian heat from observing 
 the indolence of some of those who had en- 
 dured it ; and who had a thorough contempt 
 for their style of farming, of which, be it re- 
 marked, he knew little or nothing. 
 
 " You judge correctly, sir," said Rawdon, 
 warmly, " Trevyllian will do all that the most 
 honorable man can do, but human powers 
 have their limits; and, besides, in his case, 
 there are preliminaries, painful preliminaries, 
 which must be arranged before he can become 
 Mr. Wood's agent. Means must be provided
 
 THE FRIGHT. IH 
 
 for the fitting out, and passage of his wife and 
 children, if they aceompany him, or for their 
 maintenance if thev do not.'* 
 
 " To be sure, and his friends must contri- 
 bute," observed Mr. Bradley, with a glance at 
 the Gunning's, whose real meanness he sus- 
 pected, notwithstanding their general character 
 for liberality. " Trevyllian is but my second 
 cousin once removed, or third cousin, or what- 
 ever it may be, for I never can understand 
 those roundabout genealogies, and I have a 
 rising family of my own ; but still I am quite 
 ready to contribute as far as bad crops, and 
 low prices will admit. He was a fine young 
 man when I last saw him, and though to be 
 sure it was not very prudent to marry a girl 
 with only three thousand pounds in the teeth 
 of his uncle, his w ife was such a sweet, pretty 
 creature that one could scarcely blame him, and 
 we must not expect great wisdom at one and 
 twenty. It would have been much better if 
 he had taken a farm as I proposed, offering to
 
 ll(> THE FRIGHT. 
 
 assist him with my advice ; but he had more 
 taste for books than ploughs — admired the 
 Eneid more than the Georgics, so there is 
 no use in saying more about it, though I could 
 have told him what Downing would turn out. 
 Why the fellow did not know a drill from a 
 harrow." 
 
 '• All the blame of that choice must rest 
 Avith me/' said Rawdon, anxious to clear his 
 friend in the judgment of one, who, if not the 
 possessor of splendid talents, appeared to have 
 a feeling heart. 
 
 " 1 suppose it must, since you say so. 
 Captain Rawdon ; for few take blame to them- 
 selves, when they can by any possibility fix it 
 on another; but if not a good adviser, you 
 seem a zealous friend, and that is as rare, or 
 more rare and valuable than a wise counsel- 
 lor," replied Mr. Bradley, completely won by 
 the frankness of the warm hearted soldier. 
 " But we must prove to Trevyllian that you 
 are not his only friend. Eh, Mr. Gunning !
 
 THE FRIGHT. 117 
 
 Suppose we put down three hundred a piece 
 if they all go ; or fit out Mrs. Trev3'llian, and 
 take the girls between us if they leave them 
 behind, which will be the best plan, for India 
 is a bad place for children. What say you ?" 
 
 " Why really, Mr. Bradley, you take me by 
 surprise ; — I will consult with my wife and let 
 you know the result ; but we had money in 
 Finder's bank, which will never pay more than 
 three shillings in the pound,^^ replied Mr. 
 Gunning, who, generally slow, scarcely moved 
 at all in the cause of charity, except when 
 that charity was to be blazoned forth — bar- 
 tered for an answering quantity of praise ; and 
 who was overpowered by Bradley's generosity. 
 
 '' Come ; come Gunning I You had but two 
 hundred pounds in Pinder^s bank as I know 
 for certain ; and will receive ten shillings in 
 the pound at least : besides you have no chil- 
 dren as I have, and nothing to fear fro^ii 
 Swing, the fly, or the smut. Consult with 
 Mrs. Gunning at once, whilst Captain Rawdon
 
 118 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 and I go into the next room. We should save 
 TrevyUian all needless anxiety; — his loss is 
 severe enough ^vithout any aggravation." 
 
 Mr. Gunning did consult with his lady, and 
 the result of their consultation was a proposal 
 to take one of the children, and advance two 
 hundred pounds to their parents with the full 
 understanding that they were to have com- 
 plete control over their protegee, and were not 
 to be called on or expected to give more at 
 any future time, let what would occur. 
 
 ^^ Mind we take the eldest/^ whispered 
 Mrs. Gunning to her husband. " She bids 
 fair to be a greater beauty then her mother, 
 and may marry into the peerage ; — the other 
 is a fright — and though two hundred pounds 
 is a great deal, by advancing that sum, we 
 shall get them out of the country, and poor 
 relations are the plague of your life ; always 
 expecting you to be delighted to see them, 
 even when they pop in, which they are sure to 
 do, at the most inconvenient moment: and
 
 THE FRIGHT. 119 
 
 then always teasing you to get in a boy here, 
 or a girl there ; or to contribute to a birth or 
 a wedding/^ 
 
 " Very well then, I will take charge of the 
 youngest, who shall be brought up with my 
 own children, and share all their advantages," 
 observed Mr. Bradley, on hearing the result of 
 Mr. Gunning's conference with his lady, but 
 unaccompanied by that lady's reasons. " So 
 now. Captain Rawdon, you can go and set Tre- 
 vyllian's mind at rest, since you say he is not 
 averse to the plan ; and tell him that I shall 
 call in an hour's time.'' 
 
 " Averse to the plan ? — I should think not ! 
 — it is far better than he could have expected ; 
 — a most excellent thing !" remarked Mr. 
 Gunning, as he bowed Rawdon a second time 
 out of his splendid drawing room, but with 
 rather more politeness than before. 
 
 " An excellent thing to be banished from 
 England for ten years ! burnt yellow with the 
 sun — dyed blue with the indigo — parted from
 
 \'2i) THE FRIGHT. 
 
 wife and children — perhaps both — working all 
 the time to pay off a debt incurred by another, 
 — and then to begin the world again ! Ven- 
 tures indeed ! Will Mr. Gunning advance 
 the capital ? I hate that plausible man, and his 
 fashionable wife, who would ride to the moon 
 on a broomstick to get a bow from a lord," 
 said Rawdon to himself as he proceeded on 
 his way to Trevyllian. "That Bradley is an 
 honest, warm-hearted man, and I hope he 
 rules at home, not his fine lady partner, who 
 from what I hear is twin sister to Mrs. Gun- 
 ning, though the genealogists have not made out 
 the relationship. Now to tell Ti'e\yllian and 
 his devoted wife that the best I can do for 
 them is banishment and separation ! I could 
 almost wish that I had cut out my tongue as 
 Mr. Rolleston recommended long ago. And to 
 think that that stern vindictive man with his 
 Mephistopheles smile is revelling in wealth ! It 
 is clear that this is a world of trial, not of retri- 
 bution ; and as we all desene eternal torment
 
 THE FRIGHT. 121 
 
 Tve must not grumble at temporary punish- 
 ment/' 
 
 " What news, Rawdon ?'' asked Trevyllian, 
 after shaking hands with his friend. " I see 
 you are freighted with great intelligence half 
 good, half evil, I should judge from your 
 countenance. I have sensed a sharp, though 
 short apprenticeship to sorrow, and could 
 now become a mas1:er in the trade. " Speak 
 out ! Have you failed in your expected arrange- 
 ment with Mr. Wood ?" 
 
 " No ; but I am sad at my own success. 
 You shall hear and decide for yourself^ only 
 remember that you are not pledged to this 
 indigo agency ; and that I am as ready as ever 
 to exert all my powers to procure you something 
 more desirable.'' 
 
 " I must go, though feeling all the pain of 
 such a decision," repHed TrevyUian when Raw- 
 don had related every particular. " I have no 
 words to thank you for your friendly zeal ; you 
 have begged for me what you woidd not have 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 begged for yourself. May God reward you — 
 for I cannot ! The agency is more than I could 
 have expected ; — but this parting ! — my poor 
 Grace \" he continued^ turning away with a 
 quivering lip. 
 
 If Rawdon^s feeling heart was pained by this 
 emotion in his friend^ how much more deeply 
 was it wTung when he marked Mrs. Trevyllian 
 ■vsdth a face as pale as a marble statue, in which 
 agony had swallowed up every other expression, 
 clasp her children to her bosom with a con- 
 Milsive shudder, as if she feared they would be 
 torn away. 
 
 " It shall not be, Mrs. Tre^7llian ! it shall 
 not be ! I will sell my commission and M\e will 
 set off to Van Dieman's land, and make our 
 fortune. I will beg — steal — do any thing — 
 only don^t look in that unearthly way,^^ ex- 
 claimed poor Rawdon, so shocked and bewil- 
 dered at the agony expressed in the mother's 
 countenance, that he was half beside him- 
 self with pity, and knew not what he ^^•as
 
 THE FRIGHT. 123 
 
 saying. " I will go directly/^ he added, rushing 
 towards the door ; and there is no knowing in 
 what wild scheme he might have engaged, had 
 not Tre\'yllian detained him. 
 
 That Mrs. Tl'e^yllian felt most acutely the 
 parting with her children, even after she had 
 subdued her anguish at the first idea, might be 
 clearly seen in her quivering lip, and swimming 
 eye, when she looked upon them; and the 
 suddenness with which she would sometimes 
 catch them to her heart; but no murmurs 
 increased her husband's pangs, and his gentle 
 soothing was ever met by an attempt to smile, 
 though such attempts were frequently more 
 distressing than the most passionate burst of 
 tears. To be with her husband was, to the 
 devoted wife, to be not only where duty, but 
 inclination called her : — to be with him was to be 
 happy ! — yet the scarcely less devoted mother 
 might have found it difficult to decide on leaving 
 her children, had the decision rested with her, 
 which it did not ; — the point was decided by 
 G 2
 
 124 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 others. A medical friend gave it as his opinion 
 that Grace could not live six months in a 
 warm climate ; and that even Julia, though 
 more robust, could not endure the heat of 
 India for more than a year ; whilst the Gun- 
 nings plainly declared that they would permit 
 no change in the plan proposed. To submit, 
 therefore, to what she could not alter was the 
 duty of this devoted wife and mother ; and so 
 well did she perform the painful task that she 
 increased the admiration of Rawdon, and the 
 affection of her husband. 
 
 Tre\yinan was released — the furniture at 
 Beechley disposed of advantageously — all 
 necessary preparations made for the voyage, 
 and within three weeks he, who should have 
 been the heir of Rolleston Court, was standing 
 with his wife on the deck of the Bengal, her 
 eyes turned on him with a look which said — " I 
 have no other left on earth but you V Rawdon 
 had cheered himself and friend at parting with 
 the hope of meeting in more prosperou.*^ times.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 125 
 
 Owing to the affairs of the deceased Darby 
 turning out less desperate than had been ex- 
 pected, the original debt was rather reduced ; 
 and, as Tre\yllian was to receive a per centage 
 on the indigo shipped for England, it was hoped 
 that by dihgence, unless the times proved very 
 disastrous, he might, at the end of the ten 
 years, not only be free from debt, but possessed 
 of a sufficient sum to enable him to return to 
 Eiu-ope. Still it was banishment ; and so it 
 was felt to be by those who departed for a 
 foreign land ; — and the zealous Rawdon who re- 
 mained behind, looking after the receding vessel 
 till he was ashamed of his long continued gaze.
 
 126 THE FRiGiir. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The parting between the parents and their 
 children was a sight to touch the sternest heart ; 
 and when Rawdon, receiving the girls from 
 their father, who had taken them from their 
 half fainting mother, placed them in the carriage 
 that was to convey them to the Gunnings, it 
 would have been difficult to decide whose tears 
 fell the fastest, though his were the soonest 
 checked. 
 
 That night the sisters were together and cried 
 themselves to sleep in each other's arms ; but
 
 THE FRrQHT. 127 
 
 the next morning Grace was to accompany Mr. 
 
 Bradley into shire, and it was uncertain 
 
 when thev would meet a^iain, thou^-h Mrs. 
 Gunning, to stop their weeping, made many 
 promises, more even the children shrewdly sus- 
 pected than she intended to perform. 
 
 When Grace was roused in the morning from 
 her troubled sleep, remembering the parting of 
 the night before, she clasped her arms so 
 tightly round Juha^s neck, that the maid found 
 it impossible to remove them, giving way to a 
 passion of tears that no threats, no persuasions 
 could stop. Mrs. Gunning was called, but her 
 bland accents were of slight avail, though 
 Grace did check her sobs for some moments to 
 Usten to her cozening offers ; and Julia became 
 very tolerably docile, won to obedience by the 
 prospect of fine clothes, fine sights, cakes, 
 books, and sugar plums. 
 
 Shocked at the uproar, Mr. Gunning tried 
 his authority, but Grace turned away from his 
 threats with a shudder, and clung so tightly
 
 128 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 round her sister's neck that Julia stood some 
 chance of being choked ; whilst her own sobs 
 grew so convulsive, that her hearers were afraid 
 of her breaking a blood vessel. 
 
 " I never met with such an obstinate child 
 in all my life ; she clings so tightly to her 
 sister that there is no removing her ; and her 
 cries and screams are horrible/^ concluded 
 Mrs. Gunning, after explaining to Mr. Brad- 
 ley why Grace was not ready to acocmpany 
 him. 
 
 " Poor little thing ! it is a pity to separate the 
 girls, they seem so much attached, at least for 
 the present, and just after parting with their 
 father and mother too. Suppose we leave 
 them together for a short time,^^ replied Mr. 
 Bradley, who had one of the kindest of hearts, 
 though he two often allowed the persuasions of 
 others to smother its sympathies. 
 
 "Excuse me,'^ said Mrs. Gunning coldly, 
 *'my health is too delicate to allow of my 
 taking charge of two children, even for a short
 
 THE FRIGHT. 129 
 
 time, particularly when one has such a temper. 
 I shall find enough to do in managing Julia^ 
 and you will recollect that it was only through 
 your persuasions I consented to undertake a 
 charge^ which with my invalid habits, is a great 
 and hea^'y task." 
 
 Mr. Bradley looked rather incredulous as to 
 the lady's invalidism ; but made no attempt to 
 convince her^that she was in perfect health. ^* As 
 taking care of the children between us was my 
 proposition, and you object to keeping Grace 
 for a short time, we must try what can be 
 done ; I hate to hear a child cry. Is there no 
 promise we could make to induce her to go 
 quietly, if not willingly." 
 
 " I fear nothing but actual force will be 
 effectual; she cares for neither threats nor 
 bribes, though I have offered cakes, toys, and 
 clothes. I saw enough of her temper last night 
 when I sent away that ugly spaniel, which 
 Captain Rawdon was silly enough to let her 
 bring. As if I should keep such a creature ! I 
 G 5
 
 130 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 hate dogs in a room, they spoil the furniture, 
 ahvays lying about on the chairs and sofas." 
 
 " I do not wonder at her ciying when parted 
 from Frohc, for the dog seemed to watch the 
 children and comprehend their wishes ; and I 
 understand when either of them are ill that he 
 will stay in the sick room all day, looking quite 
 miserable. Where is the spaniel ?" 
 
 "Not in the house, I trust, as I bade the 
 butler take it away, and never let me see it 
 again .^^ 
 
 " Suppose we enquire ; the animal may en- 
 able us to quiet the poor child^s grief." 
 
 Frolic was still in the house, and with the 
 dog in his arms Mr. Bradley proceeded to the 
 room where the sobbing Grace was clinging to 
 her sister. His kindness and honesty of pur- 
 pose soon effected what Mr. Gunning's threats 
 and his wife's promises had failed to accomplish. 
 " Shall deal' Frolic really go with me ? and 
 shall no one take him away?" questioned the 
 child, looking into his face after she had
 
 THE FRIGHT. 131 
 
 listened to Mr. Bradle^'^'s explanation of the 
 impossibility of her remaining with Julia, and 
 the propriety of yielding to her parents' wishes 
 by accompanying him to Elmwood Lodge. 
 
 "He shall be your own dog, Grace, and no 
 one shall take him away. I like children to 
 love animals, it gives promise of an affectionate 
 temper," replied Mr. Bradley, who, having a 
 rather overweening regard for four-footed 
 creatures himself, approved of the same taste in 
 others. '"But, in return you must be veiy 
 good, and not ciy any more. I have two little 
 girls at home who will shew you all their play 
 things, and whom you will soon love very 
 much." 
 
 " I won't love any one as well as Julia,'^ 
 exclained Grace passionately ; " but I Avill go 
 with you because papa and mamma say so ; and 
 because you will take Frohc too. I don't care 
 for cakes, or dolls, or fme clothes." 
 
 When Grace entered the drawing room ready 
 for her journey, her arm was round Julia's
 
 132 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 neck, and her eyes were red and swollen, but 
 there was no further shew of rebellion, though 
 much of sorrow. Young as she was, it was 
 evident she was stiniggling for self command, 
 yet a sob would now and then burst forth in 
 spite of her earnest eiForts. 
 
 " There is something in that girV^ thought 
 Mr. Bradley as he marked her manner in 
 taking leave of the Gunnings ; with the instinct 
 possessed by many childi'en, she understood 
 their hoUowness, though she could not have 
 depicted their character in words. 
 
 The sisters parted with another embrace, a 
 fresh burst of tears, and reiterated promises 
 never to love any one else as well. Mr. Brad- 
 ley put his weeping charge into the carriage 
 with all a father's care, whilst Frolic settled 
 himself in the lap of his young mistress, who^ 
 exhausted by her late emotion, and fatigued by 
 travelling, soon fell asleep to the great delight 
 of her escort, who was much puzzled to enter^ 
 tain a child under six years of age.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 133 
 
 Had Mrs. Trevyllian better understood the 
 characters of Mesdames Gunning and Bradley 
 her anxiety for the future welfare of her chil- 
 dren would have been greatly increased ; but, 
 fortunately for her peace of mind, she had 
 only seen the best of either> and could not 
 anticipate the dangers and sorraws to which 
 they would be subjected by such a guardian- 
 ship. Being girls, the characters of the gentle-, 
 men comparatively mattered little, they gene- 
 rally taking no part, or a very small one in the 
 e<lucation of the female branches of their fami-. 
 lies. Women are accused of being frivolous — ' 
 we will not say justly or unjustly ; — but are 
 fathers and brothers who utter this complaint 
 free from blame, if they make uo attempt to. 
 amend their frivolity ? 
 
 Mr. Bradley ruled in the kennel, the stable, 
 and the farm ; but, unhappily, he did not rule 
 in his own house, as llawdon had hoped; 
 there Mrs. Bradley generally held the sway, 
 and her husband had to endure many a lee-
 
 134 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ture for his thoughtless, and, as his lady con- 
 sidered, most impolitic acts. To be scolded 
 and advised against your Mill by word of 
 mouth is penalty sufficient for all petty mis- 
 demeanours ; — to be scolded and advised 
 against your will by stroke of pen is enough 
 to overturn the philosophy of a bolder man 
 than Mr. Bradley. A letter written on tliree 
 sides, the folds-down, and under the seal; and 
 then this letter crossed in a very lady like, but 
 very illegible hand, ail scolding, advice, and 
 admonition, might have alarmed Rowland the 
 Brave, or any other of Charlemagne's Paladins, 
 or Arthur's Knights of the Round Table ; 
 particularly as the lady looked for answers to 
 her lengthy epistles, and was always sure to 
 discover if only half had been read ; and 
 though Mr. Bradley was more skilled in cali- 
 graphy than either Roland, or Sir Launcelot, 
 or even the Emperor Charlemagne, or King 
 Arthur himself, (if we may believe some an- 
 cient scandals concerning their penmanship —
 
 THE FRIGHT. 135 
 
 the sword in those days ranking- higlier tlian 
 the pen), still that gentleman never being able 
 to fill more than the first page, unless writing 
 what Mrs. Bradley termed ' The Farmer's 
 Journal/ he always looked with dismay 
 amounting to horror on one of these written 
 lectures, and to avoid them when setting out 
 on a journey, generally averred that he should 
 be so constantly moving it would be impossi- 
 ble to give his address, promising in obedience 
 to his wife^s express commands, to send a line 
 announcing the time of his return. Acting on 
 his usual plan, Mrs. Bradley had only re- 
 ceived a short notice of the day when she 
 might expect to see him, with a brief state- 
 ment of the fact that Grace Trevyllian was to 
 accompany him, and become a permanent 
 guest at Elmwood lodge, leaving the lady no 
 time to object to the arrangement, or propose an 
 alteration. That she would object at first her 
 husband had no doubt, as she never approved 
 of any of his schemes effected without her
 
 136 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 previous counsel; and as he drew near home 
 he anticipated a matrimonial lecture and pre- 
 pared to receive it with submission or remon- 
 strance, as the case might require. In the 
 early part of the day his anxiety concerning 
 the agricultural prospects of the county, and 
 his good natured attempts to amuse the little 
 Grace, who had won a place in his heart by 
 her affectionate manner, and the silence or, as 
 he thought, attention with which she listened 
 to a long explanation touching ploughs, har- 
 rows, and drills, had diverted his mind from 
 the threatened admonitions ; but as he ap- 
 proached Elmwood Lodge his anticipations 
 grew less and less pleasant. 
 
 " Let her say what she will here the child 
 shall stay — that is poz !'* was his concluding 
 resolution, as taking Grace by the hand, he 
 led her boldly into the presence of Mrs. 
 Bradley perhaps hoping that his lady would re- 
 frain from cutting comments during the presence 
 of his little charge ;— if so he was mistaken.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 137 
 
 It was the close of a November day when 
 the travellers arrived ; — one of those cold, raw, 
 dull days, that make one as stupid and sulky 
 as itself. There was not a glimpse of blue 
 sky, nor a gleam of sunshine, and though 
 there was still light enough left to shew every 
 object distinctly it was that cold and unpictu- 
 resque light through which persons and things 
 are seen to the greatest disadvantage. It was 
 a day to make one cross — a light to make one 
 look ugly ; — and Mrs. Bradley, who had chosen 
 to expect her husband without the slightest 
 reason some hours sooner, and had then 
 chosen to be vexed at his non-arrival, was 
 certainly not in the most amiable of moods. 
 If she had not, like Tam O'Shantcr's wife ; — 
 
 *' Nursed her wrath to keep it warm ;" 
 
 it was sufficiently warm without any nursing 
 as might be seen by her mode of poking the 
 fire. 
 
 " So, my dear, you are come at last !" be-
 
 138 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 gan Mrs. Bradley, m ho was always most par- 
 ticular to say, my dear, and use her blandest 
 tones, when most out of humour, having ever 
 before her the lessons of her youth that it was 
 not ladylike to speak loud, or appear in a 
 passion. She was one of that very numerous 
 class of persons who ^ Strain at a gnat and 
 swallow a camel.' An act unfitting a lady 
 would have shocked her — a feeling unfitting a 
 christian was as a mote in her eye, unper- 
 ccived, unfelt ; or if felt or perceived, unheeded, 
 as long as it attracted not the notice of others. 
 The approval ar^d disapproval of her own con- 
 science was nothing to her ; — she lived only 
 in the opinion of the public ; a polished sel- 
 fishness was her distinguishing characteristic, 
 though that polish was not always as perfect 
 as she desired, owing to a naturally bad taste 
 and worse temper. Not without natural affec- 
 tions, her duties as a mother were better per- 
 formed than those of any other relation of 
 life ; but even here was discernible the vanity of
 
 THE FaiGIIT. 139 
 
 one who sought the apphiuse of the muUItude 
 more than the happiness of the object of her 
 regard. There are show houses, that, despite ■ 
 their splendour, convey no idea of comfort or 
 happiness, but strike a chill to the observer ; 
 Mrs. Bradley was a show woman — an orna- 
 ment to a ball room, for she had a good com- 
 plexion, good features, and a good figure ; all 
 the attributes of beauty, except its brightest, 
 a winning expression ; but the observer was 
 not attracted by that irresistible something 
 which, springing from the heart, has charms a 
 thousandfold more powerful than all the al- 
 lurements of mere form and colour. Many 
 admired Mrs. Bradley — none, save her own 
 children, loved her ; — strangers liked her — real 
 friends she had not ; — calculating selfishness 
 being incompatible with sincere affection. She 
 was very anxious that her daughters should 
 be highly educated, or rather, according to her 
 definition of the term, highly accomplished. 
 She wished them to play, sing, draw, dance, to
 
 140 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 perfection ; but the education of the mind and 
 heart— the instilling a holy and abiding prin- 
 ciple on which all actions should be based, she 
 did not understand, and therefore did not at- 
 tempt. She too, like other mothers, specu- 
 lated on the future ; — she desired, she sought 
 splendid matches for her daughters, careless 
 whether such matches would promote their 
 happiness ; or rather considering splendour 
 and happiness synonymous. She desired the 
 same for her sons ; let them be rich and ad- 
 mired, she little cared what evil passions they 
 indulged, or on what erroneous principles they 
 acted. Gild the apple on the outside, and she 
 cared not if within it was dust and ashes. She 
 had married Mr. Bradley because she con- 
 sidered it a good match ; and she thought her- 
 self an exemplary wife because she performed 
 the honors of his house, and regulated his 
 establishment to her own admiration, if not 
 always to the admiration of her visitors and 
 servants. She certainly did look very well at
 
 THE FRIGHT. 141 
 
 the head of his table, which she took care 
 should always be well arranged ; but deferring 
 to his opinion, when it clashed with her own^ 
 or making his happiness her first earthly ob- 
 ject formed no item in her list of a wife's 
 duties. 
 
 " So, my dear, you are come at last ; I have 
 been expecting you these three hours.'' 
 
 ^^ I am soiTy for that, Eliza ; but I fixed no 
 time for my arrival, and had you counted up the 
 miles, and considered the state of the roads, you 
 would not have expected me before." 
 
 ^^ The horse that you bought at such an enor- 
 mous price having turned out lame, as I was 
 convinced it would, I have not been able to 
 drive out and ascertain the state of the roads," 
 obser\'ed his lady, w ho had a talent, w hen out of 
 humour, for bringing into her discourse every 
 subject that could annoy the person with whom 
 she was conversing, and yet bringing in that 
 annoying subject so naturally that a stranger 
 could scarcely imagine it done by premedita-
 
 142 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 tion. " The coachman thinks he will never be 
 sound again ; but we will hope for the best, as 
 one hundred and twenty guineas is no trifle to 
 us with a family becoming more expensive every 
 yeai', and agricidture so much dej)ressed. 
 Henry ought to go to Eton immediately, and 
 Stephen should not remain much longer where 
 he now is; whilst Harriet and Eliza will soon 
 be wanting better masters than can be procured 
 in the country. But what odd little girl have 
 you got there ; she continued staring at Grace, 
 who shrank from her contemptuous inquisition. 
 
 " Grace Trevyllian, who is to live with us till 
 her parents return from India, as I wrote you 
 word, my dear ;" answered her husband, lead- 
 ing the unwilling child towards her. 
 
 " Impossible ! I will not believe it 1" ex- 
 claimed the lady with a shght elevation of 
 voice, to express her surprise and displeasure. 
 
 " It is true, my dear, nevertheless. Did you 
 not receive the letter stating my intention ?" 
 
 ^' I concluded you were in jest, particularly
 
 THE FRIGHT. 143 
 
 as you left me no time to object to the plan, 
 which I should most undoubtedly have done. 
 Even now I cannot believe that you seriously 
 contemplate an act so utterly opposed to all 
 your interests, so absolutely ruinous to all 
 your prospects. You could not take me to 
 town last spring the crops were so bad; you 
 could not have a nevr carriage, the prices were 
 so low ; and yet — " 
 
 " Come, come, Eliza, be a little reasonable,^' 
 said her husband, interrupting her with a good- 
 natured smile, though annoyed at her opposi- 
 tion. " One mouth makes little difference in 
 such a family as ours, and Miss Hey wood can 
 teach her with our own girls, and take all 
 trouble off your hands." 
 
 " You held a different belief when a footboy 
 was the question, telling me that the argument 
 of one mouth makin"; no difference mijrht be 
 acted on to the ruin of the most wealthy family 
 in England," replied his lady delighted at 
 having such an excellent opportunity of vent-
 
 144 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ing her vexation at the negative given to her 
 proposition of keeping another servant. *' Then 
 Miss Hey wood being only engaged to educate 
 two, may require an increase of salary for 
 taking charge of a third ; and there are such 
 articles as shoes, frocks, and bonnets, for I 
 .suppose you intend her to wear such things, 
 all of which cost money, to say nothing of my 
 trouble and anxiety, and the bill for medical 
 attendance, which, judging from appearances, 
 will soon be requisite. The child has the 
 jaundice now, or the yellow fever or something 
 w orse. Did you ever see such a skin in your 
 life ?" continued his lady, glancing compla- 
 cently at her own clear red and white, in an 
 opposite glass. "Then the face so swelled 
 too ; I shall be afraid to let her be with 
 Harriet and Eliza, lest they should catch the 
 infection. We had better get her out of the 
 house as soon as possible ; depend upon it she 
 is going to have some very serious illness. 
 This is no child of Mrs. Trevyllian*s I am sure.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 145 
 
 but some little fright you have picked up on 
 the road to joke me with." 
 
 " Nonsense !" said her husband 2)ettislily, 
 vexed at her remarks, the more so, as he felt 
 that Grace, wounded at his lady's words, was 
 pressing closer to his side for protection. '•' I 
 am not in the habit of playing such jokes. 
 The poor child has been in delicate health ; 
 her face is swelled and red with crying, and 
 this is a dull looking day, but she is no 
 fright.^^ 
 
 " 1 dare say you are right, my dear, as you 
 always are, and I do not know what a fright 
 is. No doubt I have been deceived, and her 
 complexion is like snow, her eyes not at all 
 like a ferret^s," replied his wife with most pro- 
 voking mock humility, turning round the child 
 to the light and staring at her contemptuously. 
 " But supposing her to be a perfect beauty, 
 as you assert, that beauty will by no means 
 render her residence here more eligible, on the 
 contrary less so, as that superlative loveliness 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 may tbrow our girls into the shade, and entrap 
 one of our boys into a union with a beggar, 
 which would be inconvenient considering the 
 l)resent distressed state of agriculture, as an 
 establishment for the young couple would be 
 rather more expensive than a footboy.'^ 
 
 " Psha ! my dear ; you have no fear of this, 
 and you need have none. Your children are 
 too well tutored not to consider wealth the 
 first, if not the onlv consideration in a matri- 
 monial connection. I never said the child was 
 a beauty ; but she is a good, affectionate little 
 thing, and we must do the best we can for 
 her.'^ 
 
 " Which best for her will be the very worst 
 for us," replied his wife with sharpness, seeing 
 that Mr. Bradley was more inclined than 
 usual to oppose her wishes on a point, which, 
 having nothing to do with the farm, she 
 thought should be left entirely to her decision. 
 ^^ Mr. Rollcston has not only disinherited his 
 nephew, refusing to assist him in any way.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 147 
 
 but has also declared that he shall consider any- 
 one ^^lu) aids, or even holds intercourse with 
 him, as flying in his face and offering him a 
 personal affront. Being Mr. RoUeston's near- 
 est relative, and therefore natural heir, I leave 
 you to prove the wisdom of not only advancing 
 money to the disinherited nephew, but abso- 
 lutely adopting one of his children ; that is 
 if you were really in earnest when stating such 
 an intention, which I am inclined to doubt. 
 You will lose the reversion of RoUeston Court 
 ^^ ith all its arable and pasture land by putting 
 such a i)r()juct into execution ; nay possibly 
 you may have lost it already by the mere 
 idea." 
 
 '•' 1 never thought of that ;" replied Mr. 
 Bradley struck \"vith the truth of her last re- 
 mark, and, for the moment, regretting his pro- 
 bable loss as the rich land round Rolleston 
 Court with all its caj;abllities of improvement 
 came into his remembrance. 
 
 His ^^i^e saw the effect produced by her 
 II 2
 
 14S THE FRIGHT. 
 
 wordsj and her hopes grew stronger ; but for 
 once she reckoned without her host. 
 
 " My dear Henry, you never think of any 
 thing ; and thus are perpetually getting into 
 scrapes from your too great kindness of heart ; 
 but, perhaps, this evil may yet be repaired. 
 Send away the child, and let Mr. Rolleston 
 understand that you do this solely in compli- 
 ance with his wishes.^^ 
 
 " And what is to become of the poor little 
 thing ?" 
 
 ^^ Oh ! send her back to the Gunnings, who 
 are her nearest relatives, and have no children ; 
 or ship her off to the East after her parents." 
 
 ^^ She would not live six months in a hot 
 climate." 
 
 " Situated as the Trevyllians are, that would 
 be no such great misfortune," 
 
 " It would break their hearts," interrupted 
 her husband. " Do you suppose that poverty 
 destroys the affection of parents for their chil- 
 dren ? If you had seen them as I saw them
 
 THE FRIGHT. 149 
 
 after the parting, you would not talk as you 
 do. 1 tell you what," continued Mr. Bradley 
 with honest indignation ; '^ I promised Tre- 
 vyllian and his wife that I would treat their 
 child as though she were my own, and I will 
 keep that promise let who will say nay. As 
 long as 1 have a guinea that poor child shall 
 have her share ; — old RoUeston is nothing to 
 me." 
 
 " Of course not, my dear ; nor Rolleston 
 Court either." 
 
 " Fie on you, wife ! for tempting me to 
 break my promise for the sake of gold and 
 lands. Trevyllian bears his misfortunes nobly, 
 and Rolleston Court ought to, and 1 hope will 
 yet be his. Yes I hope it, Mrs. Bradley, look 
 as incredulous as you will ; if I hoped other- 
 wise for a moment shame upon me for having 
 such a thought in my heart ; and more shame 
 on you for putting it there. Mind, madam ; my 
 orders are that she shall be treated in every 
 respect exactly like Harriet and Eliza : if any
 
 150 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 thing ^^Ith more indulgence/' exclaimed Mr. 
 Bradley taking the little hand uhieli had 
 relinquished its grasp during the late conver- 
 sation^ of ^vhicli Grace had comprehended far 
 more than her hearers suspected. 
 
 " Just as you please, my dear ; it is not for 
 me to resist your will : a wife^s duty is to obey, 
 even though that obedience may entail ruin on 
 herself and family/^ replied Mrs. Bradley with 
 mock submission, convinced from her hus- 
 band's determined manner that further oppo- 
 sition at that moment would only confirm him 
 in his resolution. " What is that black ball 
 at Miss Grace Trevyllian's feet?" she con- 
 tinued in a tone of irony, the paleness of her 
 usually glowing cheek, shewing the extent of 
 her an2;er. 
 
 " A spaniel, and great pet of Grace's," re- 
 plied her husband drily. 
 
 " And is it your desire that Miss Grace Tre- 
 vyllian^s dog shall be treated with as great re- 
 spect as Miss Grace Trevyllian herself?"
 
 THF. FRIGHT. 151 
 
 " Certainly/' said Mr. Bradley sharply. 
 
 " Then, my dear, will you he kind enough 
 to ring the bell, and give the servants orders 
 to that eifect, and announce the same to the 
 hordes of dogs uhich infest the house and 
 grounds, or Miss Grace Trevyllian's favourite 
 may not be treated with sufficient courtesy." 
 
 " Psha !" muttered the provoked husband, 
 as he quitted the room with Grace, for the 
 purpose of introducing her himself to her 
 cousins, hoping by this means to ensure her 
 a kind reception. 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Hey wood. Here 
 girls, I have brought you a new cousin, and 
 playfellow," said Mr. Bradley, as he entered 
 the school-room with Grace, closely followed 
 by Frolic. Harriet and EUza, tw^o good-look- 
 ing girls of seven and eight, rising, or rather 
 descending from their stiff backed German 
 chairs, on which they were seated, welcomed 
 their papa and cousin with all due propriety, 
 whilst Miss Hey wood returned his greeting
 
 152 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 uith a manner best described by calling it 
 studied ease, contradictory as such a term 
 may appear. 
 
 " Pooh, girls ! is that the way to receive 
 your cousin ? I would rather a thousand 
 times have a kiss and a hug, than those 
 graceful courtesies. You are meeting your 
 father and not the king ; and are children not 
 women ; that is if there are such things now- 
 a-days, which I begin to doubt," observed Mr. 
 Bradley pettishly, not having recovered his 
 good temper, which had been ruffled by the 
 conversation with his wife. 
 
 " I can assure you, sir, that your daughters 
 entertain the most deferential respect — ^' began 
 Miss Heywood, speaking as if reciting. 
 
 " I dare say they do,'' interposed Mr. Bradley, 
 who had almost as great a horror of Miss Hey- 
 w^ood's declamations, as of his wife's lectures. 
 *' Their manner is very decorous and reveren- 
 tial ; but 1 should prefer a little more warmth 
 and affection ; — more nature, and less art ; but
 
 THE FRIGHT. 153 
 
 that is not Mrs. Bradley's plan^ and she rules 
 in the school-room, so we will say no more 
 about it. A few plain words at first may pre- 
 vent misunderstanding hereafter, and therefore 
 1 have introduced this little stranger to you 
 myself. I consider Grace Trevyllian as one of 
 my ou n children whilst under my roof, and 
 expect every one else to treat her as such." 
 
 *"' Undoubtedly, sir ; it is but for you to give 
 expression to your wishes, and their fulfilment 
 will ever be the delighted endeavour of myself 
 and pupils,'^ replied Miss Ileywood. 
 
 '•' 1 trust so," said jMr. Bradley speaking 
 
 quickly to prevent that lady from commencing 
 
 another sentence. " 1 must beg you to give- 
 
 the girls a liolida.y that they may amuse their 
 
 cousin. Ah, Frolic \ you think I have forgotten 
 
 you, and so are rubbing against my legs. 
 
 This dog, Miss Heywood, is to accompany 
 
 Grace let her be Mhcre she may ; unless 
 
 parted from her at her particular request." 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; your will is. law, judicious 
 II 5
 
 154 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 and irreversible. I should only presume to 
 hint that the presence of the spaniel may 
 possibly have the effect of distracting the 
 attention of your ever amiable and docile 
 children.^' 
 
 " Never mind that ; a little less learning and 
 a great deal more play would do them no 
 harm ; besides Frolic is as quiet as a mouse at 
 proper times. I will send you some dinner, 
 Grace ; and go to bed when you like, for I dare 
 say you are tired. Good night ; I leave you to 
 become acquainted with your cousins. Mind, 
 no more lessons till to-mon'ow," he added, 
 putting his head in again at the door. " And 
 don't cry, Gracey^ but play and make youself 
 happy." 
 
 Play, and make herself happy ! Poor 
 Grace ! it was many a long and weary year 
 ere the smile of joy was on her lips, and its 
 light dancing in her eyes. 
 
 " You had better take a seat, my dear, and 
 cease to v. ecp, for tears are highly injurious
 
 THE FRIGHT. 155 
 
 to the brightness and durability of the visual 
 or^xans/' remarked Miss Heywood, \uth wliat 
 she considered an admirable mingling of the 
 dignity of the governess, and the kindness of 
 the woman, 
 
 Grace sat down, but her tears flowed on. 
 
 " Can you play ?" asked Miss Bradley. 
 
 '* Yes/*' said Grace in a whisper, for there 
 was something artificial in the address of 
 governess and pupil that chilled and frightened 
 her. 
 
 " What do you play ? Can you play ' Nel 
 cor phi ?' '' again questioned Harriet. 
 
 " No, I can't play that," replied Grace with 
 the most perfect simplicity, looking up for the 
 first time ; " but 1 can play blind man's bulf 
 and Tom Titler ; only I am tired now.'' 
 
 A burst of laughter from governess and 
 pupils natural enough to have pleased Mr. 
 Bradley, followed this naive reply ; and as a 
 consequence, poor Grace's tears fell faster and 
 faster, till thev amounted to sobs.
 
 156 TIIK FRIGHT. 
 
 " Harriet means can you play on the piano/' 
 said Miss Eliza Bradley, speaking only half 
 intelligibly on accouut of her continued 
 laughter, 
 
 " No/' gasped Grace. 
 
 "Don^t you even know your notes?'* asked 
 both the Misses Bradley at once. 
 
 " No/* sobbed poor Grace, adding nothing 
 to this brief reply, lest she should again become 
 the object of mirth to her young cousins. 
 
 "What is the matter?'* asked Mrs. Bradley, 
 ■who entered the school- room at that moment, 
 surprised at the half choking sobs of Grace, 
 and the unusually loud laughter of her daugh- 
 ters and their instructress. 
 
 "Oh, mamma! only think how funny!" 
 cried both children at once, their utterance 
 interrupted by bui'sts of merriment. " We 
 asked her," pointing to Grace, "if she could 
 play ^ l^el cor piu^ and she said no : — but she 
 could play blindman's buff and Tom Titler. 
 And she can't play the piano at all and does
 
 THE FRIGHT. 15? 
 
 not even know her notes ; — only think how 
 funny ! We can play a great many tunes." 
 
 " 1 here are few children, my dears, who 
 have had such pains taken with their education 
 as yourselves. Mrs. Trevyllian brought up 
 her girls on a different plan, and I have under- 
 stood was not an accomplished woman," replied 
 Mrs. Bradley in a self-complacent tone, thus 
 encouraging her children's vanity, and their 
 contempt for their cousin, instead of repress- 
 ing both. 
 
 "The Misses Bradley are indeed fortunate^ 
 ma'am. Few are blessed with mothers so 
 admirably fitted to perform the duties of that 
 important and interesting situation ; to direct 
 and suj>erintend their children's education, 
 and aid with their maternal counsel and assist- 
 ance the efforts of those who devote themselves 
 to the improvement of the childish intellect," 
 observed Miss Ilevwood. 
 
 " And I am sure the girls are veiy fortunate in 
 having such an able instructress," replied Mrs.
 
 158 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Bradley, who always listened most graciously 
 to Miss Heywood's studied flatteries, and 
 admired her style of speaking. '• What is that 
 child sobbing so for ? I hate to hear a noise 
 in the house ; and never, as you know, allow 
 my children to cry." 
 
 '* Indeed ma'am I cannot comprehend the 
 cause of Miss Trevylhan's evident, and most 
 distressing emotion ; unless she weeps at not 
 knowing her notes, those stepping stones to the 
 heavenly harmony of other spheres ; or is suffer- 
 ing from the languor and fatigue consequent on 
 her recent locomotion," replied Miss Heywood, 
 who not being able to reconcile Mr. Bradley's 
 command that the stranger should be treated 
 as one of his own children, and Mrs. Bradley's 
 manner when speaking of this same stranger, 
 deemed it most prudent not to blame or praise 
 till she better understood the state of parties. 
 
 " Are you tired ?" questioned Mrs. Bradley 
 in the sharpest tone^ which she ever permitted 
 herself to use.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 159 
 
 " Yes, ma'am/' 
 
 "Then you had better go to bed," observed 
 
 her hostess abruptly. 
 
 "Yes," again sobbed poor Grace, rising 
 
 ^vith alacrity, ready to go any where, or do any 
 
 thing that would take her from the presence of 
 
 Mrs. Bradley. 
 
 " Ring the bell then, Miss Hey wood, if you 
 please ; and tell the under housemaid to put 
 her to bed. I only hope she will wake in a 
 more amiable temper, or I must adopt harsher 
 measures than mere admonition ; the peace of 
 my school-room must not be disturbed by 
 such noisy and vulgar sobbing. Your judici- 
 ous instructions, my dear Miss Heywood, will 
 I trust effect a speedy amendment.'^ 
 
 " You may depend, madam, on my exerting 
 my poor abilities to their very utmost, on 
 every point to which you shall be kind enough 
 to direct them ; indeed Mr. Bradley has 
 already explained his generous desire that I 
 should bestow on Miss Trevyllian the same
 
 IGO THE FRIGHT. 
 
 anxious cares and solicitous attentions which 
 I have fur some months been in the (hiily 
 habit of bestowing on my present sweet and 
 intelligent pupils.'^ 
 
 " This is all very well of Mr. Bradley, w hose 
 kindness is so apt to outrun his prudence ; 
 and, as you know, I never dispute his will; 
 but limits must be sometimes put to his gene- 
 rosity, or it would degenerate into weakness. 
 Since he has chosen to undertake the charge 
 of the child, of course she will receive all 
 proper attention ; but the bringing up a girl 
 without a sixpence, or the probability of pos- 
 sessing one, the same as our ow^n children' 
 who have fortune and connections, with every 
 chance of making brilliant matches, would be 
 as injurious to her as injudicious in us. A 
 plain education — one to fit her hereafter for 
 undertaking the situation of companion or 
 nursery governess, is the course best calculated 
 to promote her happiness ; and I am Sure, 
 Miss Hey wood, that 1 may leave it to your
 
 THE FRIGHT. 161 
 
 discriminating judgment to make that differ- 
 ence in your treatment which, without causing 
 maUcious comparisons, will teach the child her 
 proper station in the family.'^ 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you, madam, on 
 every point, admiring greatly the clearness, 
 yet delicacy of your definitions ; and the judi- 
 cious generosity of your sentiments. Believe 
 me that I feel highly flattered by your reliance 
 on my judgment, and trust that time, which 
 reveals the future, will prove that this reliance 
 has not been misplaced. You may depend on 
 your M ishes being strictly attended to concern- 
 ing the child.^^ she no lono^er called her Miss 
 Trevyllian. "But may I request to know 
 your pleasure concerning the dog. I fear its 
 presence in the school-room may distract the 
 attention of my pupils, industrious though I 
 have ever found them, uniting the quickness 
 of genius to the docility and perseverance of 
 mere common sense. I fear, I repeat, that its 
 presence may in some degree interfere witli
 
 162 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 the acquirement of that knowledge which ex- 
 pands, and those accomplishments which gild 
 the female mind/' 
 
 " Oh, send it to the kennel/^ cried Mrs. 
 Bradley, not quite restored to good humour by 
 this highly seasoned flattery of herself and 
 daughters, though never suspecting that her 
 much prized governess was addicted to talking 
 pompous nonsense. 
 
 An involuntary scream from Grace at this 
 order, as catching up the dog she walked 
 hastily towards the door, proved to Mrs. 
 Bradley that on this point at least her hus- 
 band's will must be obeyed ; an appeal to him, 
 which the child's manner threatened, would, 
 she knew, end in her defeat, and therefore must 
 not be made. " Or, perhaps, you had better 
 let it remain at present ; but complain to Mr. 
 Bradley if you find it troublesome," added the 
 lady after a moment's hesitation. 
 
 The scream and the resolute manner had 
 changed her intention, but confirmed her
 
 THE FRIGHT. 163 
 
 hatred ; from that moment she was the resohite 
 foe of Grace Trevyllian ; openly so when she 
 dared — secretly so when prudence, or we 
 should say selfish polic}^, required a kind 
 exterior. 
 
 " There now, go to bed, and let me see no 
 tears in the morning ; no one is allowed to cry 
 here," said Mr, Bradley, as Ann, the under- 
 housemaid, made her appearance. 
 
 So Grace Trevyllian went dinnerless to bed 
 on the day of her arrival under that roof where 
 she was to be treated in every respect as one 
 of the family, though it was not dark even in 
 her small room with its sloping roof and mi- 
 serly window ; but to be out of Mrs. Bradley's 
 sight and hearing, and to have Frolic with her 
 were far preferable, in her opinion, to a feast 
 of the most delicate cakes and fruits. 
 
 The under-housemaid put the child to bed 
 as speedily as she could, and retired the instant 
 her task was completed^ in obedience to Mrs.
 
 164 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Bradley's orders, as she was leaving the school- 
 rooni ; and Grace was left to cry herself to 
 sleep as she had done for the two preceding 
 nights, and to wake it seemed with fresh cause 
 for sorrow. 
 
 " Where is Grace ?" asked Mr. Bradley, on 
 entering the drawing-room after dinner. 
 
 Mrs. Bradley deigned no reply, not choosing 
 to shew any interest in the child thus forced 
 upon her; and Miss Hey wood took upon her- 
 self to answer, pleased at an opportunity of 
 displaying her elocution, an opportunity which 
 Mr. Bradley afforded her as rarely as possibly. 
 
 " Overcome by the languor and fatigue 
 caused by prolonged motion, your little protegee 
 was disposed to recruit her much exhausted 
 powers, by " 
 
 " Going to bed, I suppose," interrupted Mr. 
 Bradley, who had seldom the patience to hear 
 out one of Miss Hey wood*s declamations. " I 
 hope she made a good dinner first though, eh,
 
 THE FRIGHT. 165 
 
 Harriet ?" he continued^ hoping to obtain 
 from his daughter^ a shorter and plainer 
 answer than from her governess. 
 
 " Oh^ no ! papa, she went to bed directly 
 when mamma asked her, and before the dinner 
 came.'^ 
 
 '^ And did no one take care that some should 
 be sent up to her ? I must look after my 
 little cousin myself, or she stands a chance of 
 being starved/^ he added, ringing the bell as 
 he spoke, and ordering one plate of sand- 
 wiches and another of cake. 
 
 " I thought,^^ began Miss Heywood 
 
 ^^ To Uttle purpose it appears,^^ interrupted 
 Mr. Bradley with an asperity, which that lady 
 had never before encountered ; then repenting 
 his sharpness to one whose situation, whilst it 
 rendered her more sensitive to slight, prevented 
 her from resenting it, he added ; ^^ I beg your 
 pardon Miss Heywood. No doubt you 
 thought for the best ; but I am annoyed at the 
 want of attention shown to my Uttle cousin,'^
 
 16G THE FRIGHT. 
 
 *' I assure you^ Mr. Bradley/' again began 
 Miss I ley wood more than appeased by his 
 apology. 
 
 *' I rc'([uire no assurances/^ said Mr. Brad- 
 lev, whose temper had not subsided into such 
 a calm as woidd admit of his listening to that 
 ladv's intricate sentences with any tolerable 
 patience. 
 
 '^ Oh^ papa ! Grace does not know a note 
 of music ; and when I asked her if she could 
 play ^ Nel corpiu.' she said no ; but she could 
 play blindman's-buif and Tom Titler. Only 
 think how funny I^' exclaimed Harriet laugh- 
 ing immoderately, joined in her mu'th by her 
 younger sister, who could just strum two or 
 three tunes dreadfully out of time, whilst Miss 
 Hey wood vouchsafed a dignified smile at the 
 merriment of her talented pupils. 
 
 " Nothing at all funny, but a very sensible 
 answer. Better if you played more with Tom 
 Titler, and less with Nell Coqiu /' replied her 
 father who, having no taste for music, highly
 
 THE FRIGHT. 167 
 
 disapproved of the time expended by his girls 
 in strumming, for playing as yet it could not 
 be called. " Health before the piano; and if 
 that was the way you endeavoured to amuse 
 the child, no wonder she was in haste to go to 
 bed.^^ 
 
 " Xel cor piu/' said Miss Heywood in a cor- 
 recting tone, and what she considered the most 
 perfect Roman accent, never suspecting that 
 Mr. Bradley's had been an intentional mistake. 
 
 " The proper ItaHan pronunciation I dare- 
 say, Miss He}"Avood, though it does not suit my 
 EngUsh mouth. I will not be so rude as to say ; 
 
 ** That one tongue for one woman is surely enough," 
 
 but I have no doubt that poor hungry Grace 
 ■v\ill be very well pleased to hear me say in the 
 language of honest John Bull ; — I have brought 
 you something to eat; — and here it comes that 
 I may make the trial,'^ said Mr. Bradlc}^, tak- 
 ing the tray from the servant and leavuig 
 the room.
 
 168 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 '' You had better retire my dears before 
 your father comes back, as he is not in an 
 amiable mood to-night ; and it may be as well 
 to say nothing more to him of this new favo- 
 rite, who is all in all at present/^ observed Mrs. 
 Bradley to her daughters, suspecting that her 
 husband's visit to Grace would not improve 
 his temper; and the young ladies and their 
 governess retired accordingh\
 
 THE FRIGHT. IG9 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "Where have you put Miss Trevyllian ?'^ 
 asked Mr. Bradley of the housekeeper, whom 
 he met in the passage, having in vain sought 
 the child in those rooms which he considered 
 best fitted for her sleeping apartment. 
 " She is in the little end garret, sir." 
 " And how dare you put my cousin in that 
 room, which, as you know, is not thought good 
 enough to be constantly occupied even by a 
 sen-ant?" questioned Mr. Bradley sternly. 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " It was my mistresses order, sir, said the 
 housekeeper boldly, aware that she had acted 
 on sufficient authority to stand excused, though 
 wondering what could have made her master so 
 unusually warm. 
 
 ^^ There must have been some mistake,^' 
 muttered Mr. Bradley, as he strode on to the 
 little garret. 
 
 ^^ Not wishing to alarm the child by a sud- 
 den noise, he opened the door as softly as he 
 could, and advanced on tip-toe, stooping to 
 avoid the low, coved ceiling. 
 
 Poor Grace had sunk into a troubled slumber; 
 but the tears stiU glistened on the lashes that 
 rested on the swelled cheeks ; and one little 
 hand was placed on Frolic, who was lying on 
 the bed beside her in a far sounder sleep than 
 his anxious mistress ; her last waking thought 
 had been the fear lest her faithful favorite 
 should be taken from her. 
 
 ^^ She is a fright — there my wife was cor- 
 rect," thought Mr. Bradley, as he looked at
 
 THE FRIGHT. I?! 
 
 her red and swollen features. Disturbed, though 
 not awakened by her cousin's entrance, or the 
 gleaming of his candle, the child slightly moan- 
 ed, her brow contracting with a bitter pang as 
 she murmured ; " Dear, dear Frolic ! — Papa — 
 Mamma/^ 
 
 ^^ Poor little thing \" exclaimed Mr. Bradley 
 in the deepest pity, as the large tears rolled 
 down her cheeks, though she still slept. 
 
 Low as were his muttered tones they roused 
 Frolic from his slumber. The dog sprang up 
 with a growl, and prepared to seize the intruder. 
 
 '^ What is the matter Frolic ?" cried the ter- 
 rified child, starting up in her bed, and staring 
 wildly on her visitor. 
 
 '^ Nothing, Gracey, nothing ;'' rephed Mr. 
 Bradley in an endearing tone ; such as few had 
 ever heard him use. 
 
 " You promised that FroUc should stay with 
 me," said Grace half pleadingly, and half in- 
 dignantly, throwing her arm around the dog, as 
 if her feeble strength could have protected him. 
 I 2
 
 172 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ee 
 
 1 did; and I will keep that promise, 
 Grace/' 
 
 " And you won^t send him to the kennel, as 
 the lady said ?" questioned the child, looking 
 keenly into her cousin^s face. 
 
 " No ; he shall remain with you. Who 
 threatened to send him to the kennel ?" 
 
 "The lady 1 saw first," answered Grace 
 timidly; for the bare recollection of Mrs. Brad- 
 ley made her tremble. 
 
 " I thought as much ; but you need fear no 
 separation from Frolic.^' 
 
 ^^ Oh, then ! I will love you so much I — so 
 very much !^* cried the child, clasping her 
 hands in an exstacy of gratitude. 
 
 " She is not such a fright after all,'^ thought 
 Mr. Bradley, his eyes twinkling at her grateful 
 words. 
 
 ^^ I hope you will always love me, Grace ; 
 and see, I have brought you some cake and 
 sandwiches ; for they tell me you went to bed 
 without any dinner. Are you hungry ?"
 
 THE FRIGHT. 1/3 
 
 "Yes very hungry; and poor Frolic too/' 
 aid the child, looking with eager eyes on the 
 two plates. 
 
 '• So 1 thought ; well, stop a moment, and I 
 will make you comfortable," and folding her 
 travelling cloak round the shivering girl as she 
 sat up in bed, he placed the waiter before her, 
 and then watched with delight how much 
 she enjoyed what he had brought, w^hich she 
 divided with Frolic, only giving him the largest 
 share, and calling on her cousin with all the 
 freedom of love and confidence to see how 
 genteely he took what she gave him, eating as 
 she said, quite like a little lady ; and not even 
 looking greedy. 
 
 Nothing could have more clearly proved the 
 interest that Bradley felt for his little charge, 
 than his sitting beside her v»^hilst she ate, 
 laughing with her and praising Frolic, yet 
 never once hurrying her meal, though the 
 bailiff was waiting for him in his study to 
 settle the bills for the last two months, and
 
 174 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 give an account of the crops^ cattle^ &c. He 
 certainly had one of the kindest hearts that 
 ever beat within a human bosom ; and if, as we 
 have before hinted, he did not on ordinary- 
 occasions show much genius for entertaining 
 children, on the present evening his defects on 
 this point were not perceptible, as Grace's 
 hunger and Frolic's very elegant style of eating 
 furnished sufficient matter for talking and 
 laughing wdthout a recurrence to any other 
 subject. "Now, Gracey, good night! go to 
 sleep — be a good girl, and don't cry in the 
 morning. And remember that you are to 
 breakfast with me," said Bradley after remov- 
 ing the empty plates, and tucking in the 
 clothes with the care, if not the skill of an old 
 nurse. 
 
 ^^ I will be very good, and try not to cry any 
 more," lisped Grace in reply, throwing her 
 arms round his neck, as he stooped to kiss her. 
 
 " You have put my cousin, the child confided 
 to my care, into a small garret, which, having
 
 THE FRIGHT. 175 
 
 no chimney, and scarcely any window, is con- 
 sidered too unwholesome to be used as a con- 
 stant sleeping apartment even by those inured 
 to hardships/' said Mr. Bradley to his wife, 
 re-entering the drawing-room before he joined 
 the bailiff in his study. "She should have 
 been in the room next to the girls, and there I 
 desire that she may be for the future. Once 
 more I repeat that Grace Trevyllian shall be 
 treated as one of our own children. Common 
 humanity should have taught you this without 
 my interference ; and remember, that w^here 
 Grace is, there shall Frohc be also.'' 
 
 " You gave me such a short notice ; and ^ 
 dog spoils all good furniture, sleeping about on 
 chairs and beds,'* stammered forth Mrs. 
 Bradley confused by her husband's unusual 
 sternness. 
 
 " If you have no better excuse than that, say 
 nothing more on the subject. The white room, 
 as you call it, could have been as soon g6t
 
 176 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ready as the garret ; and, when you gave the 
 order, you knew nothing of Frolic/' 
 
 "There were other reasons/' said Mrs, 
 Bradley, rallying her courage, though she did 
 not dare encounter her husband^s rebuking 
 look. ^* The white room is, as you know, the 
 favourite ajDartment of Miss Tennant, Eliza's 
 rich godmother, who is coming next week ; 
 indeed all the best rooms will be wanted then, 
 so that the child must have been moved ; which 
 gives a great deal of trouble." 
 
 "You are always reckoning on people 
 leaving you legacies which they never do ; 
 but if Miss Tennant were as rich as a miser, 
 and as liberal as a spendthrift, that is no reason 
 why my cousin should pine away in an un- 
 healthy room. I merely remarked to the 
 housekeeper, who told me where to find Grace, 
 that there must have been some mistake ; let 
 it be your care to-morrow to rectify that 
 mistake.*'
 
 THE FRIGHT. 177 
 
 ** Oh ! certainly, my dear; I did not com- 
 prehend the immense importance of Miss 
 Grace Trevyllian ; she shall have the best 
 apartment over the drawing-room, since you 
 desire it : any thing to please you, I never 
 dispute your will.'* 
 
 " 1 wish I found it so ; in this instance^ at 
 least, it shall be obeyed. Let the child have a 
 healthy apartment : — if you put her in the 
 best room to provoke me, she shall remain 
 there. To ask you to shew her kindness I see 
 would be hopeless ; I must command it ; and 
 you know that on some points I will have my 
 commands fulfilled," 
 
 So saying Mr. Bradley left the room, and 
 soon forgot his vexation in the pleasure of 
 hearing that his farm looked better than any 
 other in the neighbourhood, and that a new 
 drill, which he particularly patronised, was 
 increasing in reputation. 
 
 Mrs. Bradley knew, as her husband had 
 said, that there were points on which he would 
 
 I 5
 
 178 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 be obeyed, and she understood from his deter- 
 mined tone that this was one of those rare 
 occasions when opposition would not only be 
 useless but highly impolitic, as being likely to 
 endanger the influence she enjoyed on almost 
 every subject unconnected with agriculture 
 and its adjuncts. She therefore decided at 
 once on removing the child to the white room ; 
 but the flush of anger deepened at being thus 
 compelled to yield ; whilst her heart nourished 
 a sharper enmity towards the innocent cause 
 of her humiliation. The change of apartment 
 was effected with a secret resolution on the part 
 of the lady of the mansion to remove the child 
 on the first plausible opportunity, if not to the 
 garret which she had before inhabited, to one 
 but little larger, and nearly as distant from the 
 rest of the family. Nor was her secret resolu- 
 tion confined to this apparently insignificant 
 point ; she resolved that the child should be 
 made to feel her dependance in every possible 
 way i a determination put into practice with a
 
 THE FRIGHT. I79 
 
 zeal and constancy worthy of a better object. 
 Mrs. Bradley's infirmity of temper might occa- 
 sionally lead her into a bold and open opposi- 
 tion to her husband; but she was too well 
 aware of the impolicy of such a proceeding to 
 continue it to any dangerous extent. 
 
 To say to Mr. Bradley—-^ you shall not'— 
 was almost certain of producing the instant 
 reply— f I ^vilF; but by quiet, yet constant 
 hints and inuendoes, coaxing, and teazings^ you 
 could persuade, or torment Mr. Bradley into 
 almost any thing in the end, however great 
 his opposition in the beginning ; and this is 
 the mode that I should recommend to all 
 ladies who would rule their husbands. The 
 sturdy rock withstands the occasional shocks 
 of mighty waves, but yields to the constant 
 dripping of the tiny rill. Or rather I would 
 give far wiser advice, and say, seek not to rule 
 your lords at all. Our doom is submission ; 
 and a wise doom we must beheve it, since 
 decreed by the all good, and the all seeing;
 
 180 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 and a happy doom too, to iny mind, for all 
 who have married from esteem and affection, 
 not for wealth or station ; and those last 
 deserve not happiness. The sweets of wedded 
 life are turned to sours as soon as a woman 
 seeks to rule; its joys wrecked, destroyed, 
 when she ceases, though but in her own mind, 
 to honour as well as to love him to whom she 
 pledged her maiden faith. I speak not here 
 of the occasional wish to accomplish a desired 
 object ; that all must have, though that desired 
 object should be instantly and generously 
 yielded, if its accomplishment can pain another; 
 but I speak of the wish for habitual rule. To 
 gentlemen I leave the task of pointing out the 
 duties of husbands — I only offer counsel to 
 my own sex, 
 
 Grace kept her word of trying not to cry, 
 and was very tolerably merry whilst with Mr. 
 Bradley, who delighted her by his praises of 
 Frolic's tricks ; but when she was left in the 
 school -room to the care of Miss Hey wood and
 
 THE FRIGHT. 181 
 
 her pupils, with a strict cha.ge to do their 
 utmost to amuse her, and not tease her with 
 lessons for two or three days, her spirits failed ; 
 and the tears again rolled down her cheeks, as, 
 creeping away from the formal governess and 
 her staring cousins, she cuddled up in a cor- 
 ner, making herself as small as possible to 
 escape the observation of Mrs. Bradley, should 
 she enter the apartment. 
 
 Poor child ! she little knew what years of 
 misery it was her lot to bear— of w^hat bitter 
 anguish that very school-room was to be the 
 scene. 
 
 Mr. Bradley's conduct with regard to Grace, 
 excepting a little over-warmth in the address to 
 his k<dy, had been kind and judicious ; and the 
 continuance of such conduct would have 
 ensured, to a certain extent, the comfort, if not 
 the absolute happiness, of his MitXe protegee ; but 
 it was just exactly this perseverance in judici- 
 ous kindness which w%as not to be expected 
 from the owner of Elmwood Lodge. He
 
 182 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 was not an undecided, but, except in his favorite 
 pursuit of agriculture, he was an indolent 
 man; and to this indolence was his wife chiefly 
 indebted for maintainins: her rule. lie did 
 not like many things which she proposed and 
 executed ; but it was less trouble to yield than 
 to contend ; so that unless roused to determined 
 opposition by her irritating manner, or some 
 generous purpose, he allowed her to order and 
 counter order pretty much as she pleased. 
 
 " When master's back is up let him have it 
 all his own way; it won^t last long; and you 
 can have it all your own to-morrow ;" was the 
 remark of the bailiff, who had been long in 
 his service ; — and the bailiff was right. 
 
 Mr. Bradley objected to many of his wife^s 
 worldly maxims, and yet he let her impress 
 them on the minds of his children, only occa- 
 sionally expressing his dissent, instead of con- 
 stantly and seriously endeavouring to coun- 
 teract their influence. He had approved of 
 the former governess^ a most estimable woman.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 183 
 
 yet he allowed his lady to displace her on a 
 frivolous pretence, though convinced that her 
 only fault was not being sufficiently submissive 
 and complimentary: — he had a mean opinion 
 of the present governess, and yet he permitted 
 her to remain Avith his children, though more 
 than suspecting that she was a pompous fool 
 and subservient flatterer : — he knew that their 
 yearly expences, owing to his lady's taste for 
 show and company, even now, when the educa- 
 tion of his children was at its lowest rate, 
 exceeded their yearly income ; yet he permitted 
 his wife to accept and issue invitations, order 
 furniture, and improvements, at her good or 
 evil pleasure ; — he saw that Grace had incurred 
 the enmity of his lady, and was not therefore 
 likely to be in favor wdth Miss Hey wood and 
 her pupils, yet, after the first, he interfered no 
 further to ensure her comfort, contenting him- 
 self with a kind greeting when they met ; a 
 second glance to be assured that she w^as not 
 crying, and that Frolic w as near ; and an en-
 
 184 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 quiry how the book got on^ with an excusing 
 remark, when told by Miss Heywood or Mrs, 
 Bradley that she could not, or would not learn. 
 For three days he made room for the child to 
 sit beside him ; but the fourth he was too much 
 engaged in studying an agricultural report 
 even to remark her presence ; and the timid 
 Grace, hurt by the taunts of her cousins, who 
 accused her of coaxing and currying favor with 
 their papa, because he included her when 
 making presents, not venturing to approach 
 uncalled, the habit was broken through, and 
 not again resumed. 
 
 He knew that the child was clothed and fed 
 -t— he believed her to be taught at least as well 
 {\s his own daughters, and, making no minute 
 enquiries, never guessed the daily martyrdom 
 to which she was subjected; taunted, ridiculed 
 by Harriet and Eliza, talked at and punished 
 by Mrs. Bradley and Miss Heywood. The 
 latter thought it quite enough to instruct the 
 Misses Bradley without wasting much of her
 
 THE FRIGHT. 185 
 
 iiue, for so she considered it^ on Grace^ who, 
 to tell the truth, was very backward in book 
 learning, and not very quick in acquiring it 
 under the governesses tuition. Her delicate 
 health and consequent dependence on those 
 older than herself for care and amusement, had 
 developed her affections beyond her intellect ; 
 and, though she had far more thought than 
 many children of double her age, that was an 
 acquirement which made no show, and could 
 only be appreciated by the discerning few. 
 
 In memory alone, or memory by itself, me- 
 mor}^, as the school-spellers say, or used to say, 
 mere memory — she was very inferior to her 
 cousins ; she could not repeat whole pages of 
 bare chronology, or go through all the principal 
 rules of Murray^s Grammar without stopping ; 
 her's was the memory of the imagination, and 
 the heart ; and one or the other must be in- 
 terested, before she could learn with facility. 
 
 She did not care whether the battle of Hast- 
 ings, merely as the battle of Hastings, took
 
 186 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 place in October lOGG, or December 1077 ; and 
 therefore the date was forgotten ; but she re- 
 membered afterwards, when reading to herself, 
 the circumstance of William^s fall on landing, 
 and ready reply; and the death of his son 
 whilst hunting in that very New Forest, which 
 he depopulated and planted, throwing down 
 churches and houses to form a royal chace. 
 She could not remember that — ^^ when the rela- 
 tive is preceded by two nominatives of different 
 persons, the relative and verb may agree in 
 person with either, according to the sense," 
 because it was never explained to her, which w as 
 the relative, and which was the nominative. 
 
 Miss Heywood^s pupils were to repeat the 
 words contained in the books from which she 
 instructed them ; those books were good, but 
 to understand them herself, or provide for her 
 scholars doing so, was not in the bond. Grace 
 could not run on with a long list of names and 
 dates to which no one idea, no trait of courage
 
 THE FRIGHT. 187 
 
 or aifection was annexed ; she had not, as we 
 said before, a good mechanical memory ; and 
 moreover, she was so confounded and abashed 
 when standing with folded arms before her 
 formal, and unfriendly instructress, that she 
 could rarely repeat six lines without stammer- 
 ing or stopping ; and was generally told to look 
 over her lesson again, with the consolatory and 
 encouraging addition that — " a dunce she was, 
 and a dunce she would always remain/^ 
 
 This short and plain assertion, for Miss 
 Heywood never wasted her studied eloquence 
 on such an unprofitable object as the poor 
 dependant cousin, except when others were 
 present to applaud, became, from frequent repe- 
 tition, the established opinion of the whole house- 
 hold, with the exception perhaps of Mr. Bradley, 
 whose former partiality prevented his being quite 
 convinced of the fact, notwithstanding his wife 
 and Miss Heywood strove to satisfy him of 
 the correctness of their verdict, by calling on
 
 188 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Grace to repeat her morning^s lesson in his 
 hearing, on which occasions, terrified by the 
 presence of those who ever judged her harshly, 
 she invariably broke down before the end of 
 the second line. 
 
 " Av, some never can make much of book 
 learning, yet are no dunces either. I was not 
 very quick with my lessons myself;^' would 
 Mr. Bradley remark, patting Grace on the 
 head ; adding, w hen the poor girl was out of 
 hearing, — " do not tease her. Miss Heywood ; 
 she is but a delicate child, and a taste for 
 learning may come bye and bye, if we do not 
 disgust her with her book now.^^ 
 
 On this advice the governess acted, setting 
 the lessons day by day, as a matter of form, 
 which could not be omitted, calling on her to 
 say them as another form ; but caring little 
 whether she knew them or not ; generally re- 
 turning the book with the sentence — " As usual 
 you cannot repeat three lines. Upon my word 
 you are enough to try the patience of a saint, '^
 
 THE FRIGHT. 189 
 
 nnd never calling her to make a second attempt, 
 except, when having been worried into ill-hu- 
 mour by the sullenness or inattention of one 
 of the Misses Bradley, she would vent her 
 anger by tormenting Grace Tre^^llian. 
 
 In learning her notes, those stepping stones 
 to heavenly harmony, she showed herself most 
 })articularly stupid, . agreeing with Mr. Bradley 
 that it was far more pleasant to play Tom Titler 
 than Nell Coii:)u ; and as she v.as generally left 
 to practise by herself, or was so friglitened when 
 overlooked as to play every note but the right, it 
 is not astonishing that she progressed but slowly. 
 In only one branch of her education could 
 Miss Heyw^ood give a satisfactory report : — for 
 caligraphy she really appeared to have great 
 talents, and greater application ; but the secret of 
 this was soon revealed, at least toMr. Bradley. 
 
 No sooner were her pot hooks and hangers 
 pronounced legible, than waylaying that gentle- 
 man at his study door she requested pemiission 
 to write to her parents and Julia, waiting for his
 
 190 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 reply with downcast looks, and a quickly 
 beating heart ; for it was long since she had 
 ventured to address him, unaddressed. 
 
 '^ To be sure, Gracey ! come in and tell me 
 what you want," said Mr. Bradley, kindly, 
 struck with her pallid cheek and faltering tone. 
 '• Your papa and mamma are poor, and letters 
 to India cost something ; and the Gunnings, 
 with their thousands a year, think a great deal 
 of postage ; but I daresay I shall be able to send 
 by a private hand. They are all well, and desire 
 their love, as I told you the other day." 
 
 " Thank you ;" said Grace ; but she said it 
 with a sigh, thinking that they might have sent 
 a longer message, or a letter. 
 
 " Will you give me two sheets of paper, 
 and not tell Mrs. Bradley, or Miss Heywood ? 
 I can write whilst they are all gone to the 
 horsemanship; and they will know nothing 
 about it ;" continued the child, encouraged by 
 his kindness.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 191 
 
 " Would not you like to go with them to 
 the horsemanship ?^' 
 
 " Oh, no ; I would rather write my letters," 
 replied Grace, who never felt at ease in the 
 presence of Mrs. Bradley, 
 
 " You are a dull, unsociable little thing, 
 always moping alone in the library, or the 
 walks. How comes this child ? Harriet and 
 EUza are not cross to you I hope.'^ 
 
 '^ No," said Grace, too generous to complain, 
 " but I like to be alone with Frolic, and then I 
 can think of dear papa and mamma, and dear 
 Julia ;" her eyes fiUing with tears as she spoke. 
 
 " You are a good little thing, though you 
 cannot learn ;" said her kind hearted cousin, 
 chucking her under the chin. ^' There, make 
 haste — write your letters, and bring them 
 to me that I may seal them." 
 
 Away went Grace to her pot-hooks and 
 hangers (I hope they were better formed than 
 those just traced by my own pen, or her cor- 
 respondents were to be pitied) and whilst thus
 
 192 THE FRiGHT. 
 
 employed she was happy, pouring forth the 
 fulness of her young affection with all the 
 simple eloquence of childhood, and anticipating 
 the time when they should meet again. 
 
 The slight suspicion that Grace sought to be 
 alone, because unkindly treated by her cousins, 
 which had glanced across Mr. Bradley, was 
 hushed by the child's ready, no ; but had he 
 investigated further he would have found that 
 never but when alone was she quite safe from 
 sneers and harsh rebukes. That she was a 
 poor cousin, dependant on the Bradleys for 
 food and raiment — a charity child — was im- 
 pressed upon her every hour. She must touch 
 no toy or book without the permission of the 
 Misses Bradley — she must instantly give up 
 every thing which they desired; if permitted 
 to play with them, she must submit with 
 humility to their caprices. But for their papa 
 must not she starve, or go to the poor-house, 
 and did she dare to dispute with them, or 
 claim any plaything as her own ?
 
 THE FRIGHT. 193 
 
 The Misses Bradley^s bed room was a show 
 bed room, with its large, cheerful windows, 
 French couches, frilled sheets, prettily arrang- 
 ed dressing tables, and rosewood book shelves. 
 Grace Trevyllian's was any thing but a show 
 room, with its small window, ugly bed, coved 
 ceiling, and plain and scanty furniture. It 
 Mas not the apartment in which she had slept ^ 
 the first night of her arrival, but the one ad- 
 joining ; rather larger, and boasting a chim- 
 ney, which smoked unbearably the only time 
 it was ever put to the trial. Hither had Grace 
 been soon removed under the pretence that the 
 white room was required for others ; and here 
 she remained, Mr. Bradley having forgotten to 
 make enquiries on the subject. 
 
 The ^Misses Bradley were always dressed 
 M ith care and in the fashion ; — Grace Trevylli- 
 an was generally clothed in the garments that 
 they had outgrown, either unaltered, or altered 
 so carelessly as not to fit ; and if Mr. Bradley 
 remarked that her clothes looked ill made, the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 blame was laid on her being careless and 
 slovenly. 
 
 Nor were these the only vexations and in- 
 dignities to which poor Grace was subjected. 
 Day after day did she hear herself described to 
 visitors, who, struck by her sickly appearance, 
 asked her name, as a poor child taken from 
 charity, whose father and mother being in debt 
 were obliged to go to the East ; — a child so stu- 
 pid, sullen, and obstinate that Mrs. Bradley 
 feared they should never be able to make any 
 thing of her. 
 
 Then she had all the epidemics to which 
 children are liable ; measles, hooping cough, 
 &c. &c. ; and there was she left in her little 
 dull garret alone, or crouched in a corner of 
 the school-room, hour after hour, with nothing 
 to amuse her but the affectionate Frolic, or a few 
 books smuggled in by the good natured Ann, 
 the under housemaid, who, taking pity on the 
 neglected child, waited upon her without or- 
 ders ; and all this when the Misses Bradley
 
 THE FRIGHT. 195 
 
 had every luxury that childish fancy could de- 
 sire. How did Grace weep at these times, 
 thinking of the contrast ; and long for her 
 own dear papa and mamma, or Nurse Pang- 
 bourne to hold her aching head, and smooth 
 her pillow, hushing her to sleep with words of 
 love ! How did she sigh even for kind Mr. 
 Bradley's return, who unluckily, happened to 
 be absent when she suffered most ! 
 
 Then in the holydays when the boys were 
 at home she had fresh and sometimes harder 
 trials to endure ; for to her Henry and Ste- 
 phen were objects of dread and dislike on 
 account of their rude, boisterous manners, and 
 overbearing dispositions ; but it was for Frolic 
 she feared far more than herself. Boys, un- 
 less brought up more judiciously than w-ere 
 Mrs. Bradley^s, are generally inclined to despise 
 and tyrannise over their sisters ; but as Har- 
 riet and Eliza were powerfully protected by 
 their mother and governess, these principally 
 K 2
 
 196 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 exhibited their taste for despotism in torment- 
 ing Grace, who could not defend herself ; and 
 was too timid to complain to Mr. Bradley, in 
 whose presence they never dared annoy her. 
 Their ill treatment of herself she bore in si- 
 lence ; but when they attempted to persecute 
 Frolic to vex her, and punish the dog for not 
 following them as they desired, she was roused 
 to resistance, and spoke so resolutely, threat- 
 ening to appeal to their father, that not daring 
 to urge her further they contented themselves 
 with giving the spaniel a sly kick or stroke 
 with the whip whenever they could accomplish 
 either, without being suspected as the culprits. 
 Fortunately for Frolic his judicious education, 
 quiet disposition, devoted attachment to his 
 young mistress, and the quick perception pos- 
 sessed by dogs of who are friends, and w ho 
 are foes, saved him from much ill usage ; and 
 subdued the enmity of which he would other- 
 wise have been the object. Frolic never
 
 THE FRIGHT. 19? 
 
 jumped on chair, sofa or bed, except in his 
 mistress's room ^vhen she was ill ; never 
 quarrelled with other dogs, never stretched 
 himself before the fire, when men, or boys 
 who aped their elders, wished to occupy the 
 rug ; always avoided Mrs. Bradley and her 
 sons ; in short always crept as close to Grace 
 as he could, showing a most valuable talent 
 of never getting under people's feet, or in 
 their way ; but receiving all marks of attention 
 with a grave and decorous gratitude. 
 
 Harriet and Eliza were not very ill temper- 
 ed or disobliging to each other, Henry amid 
 all the rudeness and tyranny of a school boy 
 towards girls, which he considered mannish, 
 occasionally exhibited symptoms of a better 
 and more generous spirit, whilst Stephen 
 showed to many a winning politeness ; but all 
 agreed in trampling on the unresisting Grace, 
 calling her fright and dunce, sullen and 
 stupid. 
 
 What wonder if the child under such treat-
 
 198 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ment became what they called her ! How 
 could she be beautiful^ when no — 
 
 " Joy ever danced in her dark eye," — 
 
 no smile ever wreathed those thin^ white lips ? 
 How could she fail to be a dunce^ when none 
 took pains to' teach her — none cared if she 
 improved — none lured her on to learning by 
 the words of praise ? How could she fail to be 
 sullen and stupid, when none heeded if she 
 wept or laughed, and when she spoke taunted 
 or mocked ? What w^onder if she were stinted 
 in the growth of mind and body ? her young 
 affections chilled, disdained, thrown back 
 upon herself, eating her very life away ; — 
 youth^s generous impulses all checked by cold- 
 ness and dependant poverty, — the buoyant 
 spirit of her childhood broken — crushed — 
 ground down into the earth ? the marvel was 
 that she survived, wearing away long years 
 in almost hopeless misery. 
 
 Praise is too often made the machinery of
 
 THE FRIGHT. 199 
 
 learning; it should rather be considered as 
 the oil to set the Avheels of the human mind 
 in motion, used not with a wasteful but a 
 sparing and judicious hand ; — with too much 
 or too little oil the wheels have an irregular, 
 and unprofitable action. 
 
 What a change might have been effected in 
 Grace had a thousandth part of the affection 
 lavished on her cousins been bestowed on her ! 
 But the words of praise never fell on her ear — 
 the accents of love never melted her heart ; — 
 affection became to her a strange, almost 
 forgotten thing ; or when remembered, its 
 memory only gave the present the power to 
 inflict a sharper pang. 
 
 Eighteen months had elapsed since her first 
 arrival at Elmwood Lodge, when she was 
 unex])ectedlv summoned to the drawing: room.. 
 
 " I am come at last you see, as I promised 1" 
 exclaimed the warm hearted Rawdon. 
 
 Grace, who had entered with her usual 
 frightened, awkward manner, expecting noth-
 
 200 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ing less than a scolding from Mrs. Bradley, 
 looked up at these words, and meeting the 
 affectionate glance of her old favorite, sprang 
 into his arms, and clinging round his neck 
 with a passionate flood of tears, murmured 
 between her sobs, " dear, dear. Captain Raw- 
 don — papa — mamma — Julia.'^ 
 
 ^^ There is no breaking the poor child of 
 these bursts of weeping ; she has never got 
 over the parting with her parents and sister, 
 and will never be well or happy till she can 
 rejoin them," observed Mrs. Bradley in a pity- 
 ing tone, wishing to play the amiable before a 
 stranger, and still more devoutly wishing that 
 this stranger would repeat her words and 
 rid her of her troublesome charge. 
 
 " Oh take me to them !'^ sobbed poor 
 Grace. 
 
 " Alas ! dear child, that is impossible ! and 
 it is all my fault," replied Rawdon pressing 
 the weeping girl still closer to his heart. " But 
 hush, Gracey, my little wife, I cannot bear to
 
 THE FRIGHT. 201 
 
 hear you sob. See I have brought you this 
 chain and locket containing Julia's hair and 
 mine.'^ 
 
 "Thank you ! Thank you!" cried the 
 grateful child, eagerly seizing the trinket, and 
 gazing on it, not with the triumphant gaze 
 of vanity ; but with the thrilling look of 
 affection. 
 
 " Has dear Julia written me a letter ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " She had not time for that ; but she sent 
 her love. 1 could not stay with her five 
 minutes, and cannot stay longer with you, my 
 regiment having been unexpectedly ordered 
 abroad ; as it is, I shall scarcely reach Ports- 
 mouth in time ; but I could not leave England 
 without seeing you." 
 
 As he spoke he felt the child cling to him 
 
 M ith a convulsive shudder. At that moment 
 
 Mrs. Bradley was called from the room. Grace 
 
 listened breathlessly till the door closed behind 
 
 K 5
 
 202 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 her, and then she said in a deep, earnest 
 whisper. ^' Take me with you ! Oh take me 
 M'ith you !'^ 
 
 " Impossible !" repHed Rawdon. 
 " Oh do, do ! exclaimed the child with 
 passionate energy, clasping her hands. " No 
 body loves me here — no one but poor Frolic,^' 
 looking down at the dog, that was fawning on 
 Rawdon. " Do take me with you ! I will be 
 so good ! — and never cry then.'^ 
 
 " It cannot be, Gracey ; you know not what 
 you ask," replied Rawdon gently, the tears 
 starting to his own eyes at her touching 
 appeal. 
 
 The poor child's clasped hands relaxed, her 
 head sank on Rawdon's shoulder — her lips 
 and cheeks turned pale as marble, and she 
 scarcely seemed to breathe. 
 
 What could a poor Captain of foot do with 
 a girl of seven years old in foreign lands ? Yet 
 wild as was the project of taking the child.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 203 
 
 for some moments Rawdon considered its 
 practicability. 
 
 " Are you not happy, Grace ?" he asked. 
 
 " Happy? Oh no!" 
 
 " Is not Mr. Bradley kind to you ?^' 
 
 ^* Yes, very kind !'' replied Grace warmly, 
 her atiectionate heart never forgetting a kind- 
 ness. 
 
 Before he could question further Mrs. 
 Bradley returned, and Grace's energy vras 
 gone. 
 
 '^ I cannot take you with me, dear child ;" 
 whispered Rawdon. ''^ If you were older you 
 would understand the impossibility of such a 
 plan.^^ 
 
 Grace made no fresh request; but her sobs 
 came so fast as almost to choke her, though 
 she gradually grew more composed, calmed by 
 Rawdon's soothing caresses. 
 
 ^•' Three o'clock ! and I should have been 
 miles on my journey by this time,^' exclaimed 
 Captain Rawdon starting up. " Good bye.
 
 204 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Gracey, my little wife ! I must make a fortune 
 and come back and claim you, God bless 
 you, dear child !'^ he added in a faltering 
 voice, as kissing the sobbing Grace again 
 and again he gently unclosed her clinging 
 arms, and hurried from the room to hide his 
 own emotion. Her tears and passionate en- 
 treaty had quite overcome him, though satis- 
 fied by her assertion of Mr. Bradley^s kind- 
 ness, and Mrs. Bradley's bland and friendly 
 manner, he attributed her unhappiness to 
 the separation from her parents and Julia, an 
 evil which he could not remedy. 
 
 As Grace caught the sound of the closing 
 of the carriage door she sprang to the window, 
 watching the departing chaise with tearless, 
 breathless sorrow, till the intervening trees 
 concealed it from her view. 
 
 " Don^t stand idling there ; but go back to 
 the school- room,^' cried Mrs. Bradley sharply. 
 
 Grace turned at that dreaded voice, and for 
 once met the speaker's eye ; but with a look
 
 THE FRIGHT. 205 
 
 SO Strange, so ^Yild, so wretched, that Mrs. 
 Bradley was alarmed and somewhat touched. 
 
 " Or go to your own room till tea time if 
 you like it better;" she added with unusual 
 gentleness. 
 
 Grace quitted the apartment without a word, 
 and walked to her Httle room, not with the 
 noiseless creeping step of fear^ but with the 
 slow heavy tread of a deep woe that had ab- 
 sorbed all dread. She had unconsciously 
 indulged the hope that this long promised visit 
 of Rawdon's would bring some amelioration to 
 her hard lot ; and now he had been there — 
 and he was gone \ — gone for years, and far 
 away, and she was left to all her former 
 wretchedness. If Rawdon could not help her, 
 there was none who could ; and she must bear 
 taunts and ill temper as before. 
 
 And she did bear them month after month ; 
 year after year, creeping away when she could 
 with Frolic into the library, where she was 
 seldom disturbed, (the present generation of
 
 206 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Bradleys not being a reading generation), or if 
 seen permitted to remain on condition of dust- 
 ing the books. And here she sat poring over 
 works above her age, taxing her mind to its 
 utmost powers to understand them ; now sym- 
 pathising with the hero and the patriot^ her 
 pale cheek glowing with enthusiasm ; then 
 drinking in with a thirsting spirit and a pas- 
 sionate love for the ideal the golden dreams 
 of poets, their glorious visions, and their thril- 
 ling hopes ; or, if the season of the year allow- 
 ed, she would seek out some sunny spot where 
 she might bask beneath the light and warmth; 
 or, sporting with her favorite, twine wreaths of 
 the sweet wild flowers to hang around his 
 neck. Thus passed the life of the neglected 
 child, her happiest moments when her very 
 existence was forgotten by all beside ; and she 
 could sit apart the sense of her loneliness and 
 desolation lost in her sympathy with the hopes, 
 the thoughts, the aspirations of the glorious, 
 and the good ', or that loneliness peopled by
 
 THE FRIGHT. 2.0^ 
 
 imagination with, those she loved ; — her deso- 
 lation brightened by brilliant visions of the 
 future. The chain and locket never left her 
 neck ; night and day it was there, linking her 
 as it seemed to the few who loved her. In the 
 rainbow hopes of the future, and in the touch- 
 ing, and still more beautiful memories of the 
 past, she strove to forget the gloomy present. 
 
 Thus passed the life of the fright — the 
 dunce — the sullen — and the stupid.
 
 208 THE FRIGIir, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 If my readers dislike lessons as much as I did 
 in my younger days they will make no objec- 
 tion to my skipping over intervening years, 
 and resuming my tale at a more interesting 
 period. To tell the truth, I found nearly as 
 much difficulty as did poor Grace in commit- 
 ting to memory pages of chronology, geogra- 
 phy, and grammar; of which last, at the time, 
 1 did not understand a sentence, the only 
 learning I patronised being pet pieces of poetry 
 and history^ and as my horror of tasks, as I
 
 THE FRIGHT. 209 
 
 used to term them to the scandal of a youn«>; 
 friend^ is not even now quite overcome, we will 
 if you please suppose Grace arrived at her 
 fifteenth year, and the ages of the rest of her 
 friends and acquaintances advanced in the 
 same proportion. 
 
 Years have passed away but few events have 
 occurred during their progress. A bright fire 
 is blazing in the drawing-room at Elmwood 
 Lodge, and Mrs. Bradley, little altered by 
 time, is sitting at a work table grounding in a 
 nest of doves, traced in lambswool by the elo- 
 quent Miss Heywood, who still retains her 
 station in the family. Harriet, a fine showy 
 girl in her eighteenth year is netting a purse, 
 when not employed in arranging her curls by 
 the aid of an opposite mirror ; — her sister, a 
 few months younger, and some think as pretty, 
 is copying music at a table a little apart, all in 
 company clothes and company looks ; whilst 
 Grace, the poor, neglected Grace, as little 
 grown as one could well imagine ; thin, sallow,
 
 210 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Avith ill made garments badly put on, and 
 straight dark hair pushed back behind her ears 
 is seated near the window in her usual fright- 
 ened position, half sitting and half crouching, 
 taking no note of those around her, but gazing 
 eagerly out towards the lodge, a sudden flush 
 coming occasionally into her hollow cheek and 
 a gleam into her sunken eye as the distant 
 rumbling of a carriage strikes on her hear- 
 ing ; — then glow and gleam both die away, as 
 the sound grows faint and fainter. 
 
 Need we say that Grace is expecting the 
 arrival of one of the few, — the very few, whom 
 she loves with her whole heart ; that heart so 
 constant so unselfish ? — That day the Gun- 
 nings were to visit Elmwood Lodge, and 
 Grace and Julia were to meet for the first time 
 since their first parting. No words could 
 describe the eager, the impatient longing, yet 
 the half shrinking, the involuntary doubt lest 
 Julia should be grown a fine lady, as Mrs. 
 Bradley had asserted, and despise her stupid.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 231 
 
 Ugly sister ; the chilly fear^ and then the thrill- 
 ing hope which succeeded each other in the 
 mind of the loving girl, as she watched for the 
 expected visitors. Some hearts may have felt 
 all this, and even after the passing of long 
 years may beat the quicker at the thought ; 
 but no words can make it understood by those 
 who have never felt it: — the heart has a lan- 
 guage of its own with which the pen and the 
 tongue intermeddle not. 
 
 But there was one circumstance connected 
 with Grace which was more remarkable even 
 than her unusual excitement ; Frolic, her 
 heretofore inseparable companion, was not by 
 her side. Could she too with years have 
 chan";ed as worldling's do ? Was her old favo- 
 rite forgotten, or had Mrs. Bradley succeeded 
 in depriving her of her sole consolation. — 
 Neither ; poor Frolic was ill, so ill that even 
 his young mistress scarcely hoped that he 
 could long survive ; but her care and affection 
 were only increased by her fear of losing him.
 
 212 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " Here is a surprise for you, my dear !'* said 
 Mr. Bradley to his lady, entering the room 
 with an open note in his hand. 
 
 " Your pet plough was pronounced perfec- 
 tion at the last agricultural meeting, I suppose," 
 replied Mrs. Bradley coolly. 
 
 " You are all in the wrong, most sagacious 
 wife,'' observed her husband, not particularly 
 pleased at her allusion to the pet plough which 
 was considered by many a positive failure. 
 ^^ Mr. Rolleston being on his way home pro- 
 poses spending two or three days at Elmwood 
 Lodge, if agreeable to us ; and waits my 
 answer at the half-way house." 
 
 ^^ A surprise indeed ! and a very pleasant 
 one ; — yet how unlucky !" exclaimed the lady, 
 triumph and vexation mingling in her tone. 
 " That he should have chosen this week of all 
 weeks in the year, when we are expecting the 
 Gunnings with Julia Trevyllian ; but for their 
 coming we might have sent Grace out of the 
 w^ay. Could we put off the Gunnings? The
 
 THE FRIGHT. 213 
 
 Dudleys Mr. RoUcston would not mind meet- 
 ing." — In this perhaps the lady was mistaken — 
 " What shall we do ?" she questioned in a great 
 fuss, provoked with her husband for not being 
 in an equal fidget. 
 
 " Just do nothing, my dear ; but let matters 
 take their course. The Gunnings being ex- 
 pected every moment cannot be put off; and 
 as for sending Grace away, I shall do no such 
 thing ; he must know of her being here ; and 
 it is for him to feel shame at the meeting not 
 us. If you can arrange a bed for RoUeston, I 
 will write and say that we shall be happy to see 
 him, stating indirectly in my note whom we 
 expect, thus leaving him to come or go as he 
 shall think best." 
 
 " Arrange a bed ? — to be sure we must, if 
 some of us have to sleep out ; such an oppor- 
 tunity of conciliating him must not be lost ; 
 but pray say nothing of the Gunnings, or you 
 may be sure he will not come ; and remember 
 their last note left their arrival uncertain."
 
 214 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 a 
 
 Wife, ^vife." — ^ Honesty is the best 
 policy !^ " replied her husband reprovingly. 
 
 *^ I do not believe any such thing/^ obser^^ed 
 Mrs. Bradley sharply, ^^you are always getting 
 into scrapes by what you call your honesty. He 
 does not ask if you have any visitors, and the 
 naming them may seem as much as to say our 
 house is full ; but if you must come, you must. 
 Should he find it disagreeable he can go away. 
 It is very provoking that one cannot put off 
 the Gunnings.'^ 
 
 My. Bradley would have preferred perfect 
 sincerity ; but, as usual, yielded to his w ife, and 
 the Gunnings and Dudleys were not named in 
 the note to Mr. Rolleston. 
 
 Minute after minute passed away, and Grace 
 grew more anxious and impatient, as might be 
 seen by the more fitful changing of her cheek, 
 had any been sufficiently interested in her feel- 
 ings to remai^k whether that thin cheek was 
 flushed or pale. 
 
 A cari'iage appeared in sight ; — Grace's
 
 THE FRIGHT. 215 
 
 hands were involuntarily clasped, as she bent 
 more eagerly forward. It came nearer, and 
 nearer ; near enough for her to distinguish the 
 long face of a gentleman beyond middle age, 
 who by sitting forward, prevented her catching 
 a glimpse of his traveUing companions. That 
 must be Mr. Gunning. She looked more 
 keenly, and, as the road turned, caught sight 
 of another face resembling that which she had 
 seen before; but not so long, and^far more 
 youthful, the face of a youth about nineteen. 
 Instead of Mr. Gunning then the person whom 
 she had first seen was Mr. Dudley ; and the 
 last his son. She never raised her eyes when 
 the strangers entered the room. What were 
 they to her, but the messengers of disappoint- 
 ment ? Thinking only of her meeting with 
 Juha, she had not contemplated the possibihty, 
 or rather probability of the Gunnings, who 
 were proverbially late people, arri\'ing the last 
 of the expected visitors, and now paid no at- 
 tention to the slow, formal greeting of the elder
 
 216 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 gentlemen to Mrs. Bradley, and her daughters ; 
 or the as formal bow of the younger. They 
 were not those whom she longed to behold : — 
 and before their greetings were concluded she 
 had almost forgotten their presence, and was 
 again looking anxiously out towards the lodge. 
 Another carriage came in view — it contained 
 but one traveller; and the chill that crept over 
 her as she caught a glimpse of those haughty 
 features told her that it was Mr. Rolleston — 
 her father's harsh and inflexible uncle — he 
 whom she had seen but once before, when her 
 mother knelt at his feet ; — he at whose name 
 alone she shuddered, for the terror of that 
 meeting had never been forgotten. Involun- 
 tarily she shrank into the embrasure of the 
 window, listening breathlessly for his approach, 
 yet not venturing to look upon him even when 
 she heard him uttering cold courtesies to Mrs. 
 Bradley, deigning only bows to the young 
 ladies and the Dudleys; such bows to the 
 latter as struck his not clear sighted host with
 
 THE FRIGHT. 21? 
 
 surprise annoyed the formal father, and em- 
 barrassed the a^vkward son, who, having been 
 entirely brought up at home in a lonely part 
 of the country, felt any thing but at ease 
 among so many strangers. 
 
 Finding that no notice was taken of herself, 
 the terrified Grace, recovering gradually from 
 the awe inspired by her dreaded great uncle, a 
 third time turned to her eager watching — a 
 watching more anxious than before, as she be- 
 gan to fear there might be some truth in Mrs. 
 Bradley's remark, and that the Gunnings 
 might not arrive. 
 
 She was not so completely unnoticed as she 
 imagined; but the questions concerning her 
 and the consequent replies never reached her 
 ear, so fully were all her faculties engaged in 
 expectation ; and so loudly was Mr. Bradley 
 discussing agriculture with Mr. Dudley, the 
 most patient of listeners from that very slow- 
 ness which made him the most tiresome of 
 speakers. 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 21S THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " Is that young lady in the corner another 
 of your daughters^ Mrs. Bradley ?" enquire d 
 Mr. Rolleston^ after enduring for some time 
 that lady's expressions of delight at his unex- 
 pected visit. 
 
 " Oh^ dear no!'^ replied his hostess with a 
 look and tone which said — ^ how could you 
 believe such a little awkward fright as that to 
 be a child of mine ? Look at me and my tall 
 fair girls — mark the contrast, and blush for 
 having asked such an unpardonable question.' 
 — " That is no daughter of mine, thank hea- 
 ven ! It is Grace Trevyllian. Mr. Bradley, 
 who always goes hand over head, in an un- 
 lucky moment, before he knew particulars, 
 offered to take charge of the child; an offer 
 snapped at, as you may suppose. I was very 
 much against the plan, and did all I could to 
 dissuade my husband from having her here, 
 particularly after hearing of your nephew's 
 ungrateful, I may say unnatural conduct to 
 you, who had been as a father to him ; but he
 
 THE FRIGHT. 219 
 
 considored his honor engaged, and could not 
 retract, though regretting his imprudence. As 
 the Trevyliians have been gone now nearly ten 
 years, 1 hope they will soon reclaim her; for 
 she has caused me nothing but trouble and 
 anxiety ; always sickly, and so stupid, that 
 there is no improving her mind or body, though 
 she has received the same advantages as Har- 
 riet and Eliza. 1 hope my husband will take 
 warning for the future ; — it is no slight annoy- 
 ance to be saddled with a child, and such a 
 child ! against one's will for so many years.^' 
 
 ^^ Mr. Bradley is an honorable man !" ob- 
 served Mr. RoUeston. 
 
 There was a something in this brief reply, 
 a fancied emphasis upon the Mr., which 
 caused the lady's cheek to flush as she paused 
 to consider the meaning of his words. 
 
 '• What is t)ie matter ?" she asked in some 
 surprise, a few moments after, as Grace, hav- 
 ing watched the approach of a third carriage, 
 and satisfied hcr-elf that it contained two 
 L 2
 
 220 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ladies and a gentleman forgetting that others 
 were in the room sprang from the corner into 
 which she had shrunk, and made a rush to- 
 wards the door. 
 
 " Julia — dear Julia is come !" exclaimed 
 poor Grace, for once raising her eyes, those 
 large, dark eyes, the only tolerable features in 
 her face, and truly, as the ancients said, the 
 windows of the soul, and meeting unabashed, 
 in her joyous excitement, the wondering and 
 reproving stare of Mrs. Bradley, and the cold, 
 keen, gaze of Mr. Rolleston. 
 
 ^^ What then ? Where are you going to, 
 flying across the room in that unladylike 
 manner ^'' 
 
 ^' I am going to meet Julia,^^ replied Grace, 
 evidently surprised that any one could doubt 
 or disapprove of her intention. 
 
 " Folly ! Go back to your seat ! and wait 
 till Julia has entered the room and spoken to 
 those older than yourself. What would she 
 and Mrs. Gunning think of such country
 
 THE FRIGHT. 221 
 
 hoydenism ? I wish you would take example 
 from your cousins ; but that you never do in 
 any thing/' observed Mrs. Bradley rebukingly^ 
 though in a soft, low tone, wishing Mr. Rol- 
 leston to admire the blandness with which she 
 could reprove ; and at the same time to under- 
 stand that his great niece was held in no 
 especial favor. Those speaking eyes so full of 
 the heart's sweetest, best emotions were again 
 bent on the ground; and poor Grace drew 
 back to her corner with her former frightened 
 air, moving even more awkwardly than was 
 her wont, yielding to her long habit of sub- 
 mission. 
 
 ^^ Are the Gunnings and Julia Trevyllian 
 expected ?" asked Mr. Rolleston of his flushed 
 and embarrassed hostess in an unvarying tone 
 in which she could read no feeling, that might 
 influence her answer. 
 
 " 1 am sorry to say they are, much to my 
 vexation, particularly under present circum- 
 stances. They proposed coming some months
 
 222 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ago, the sisters not having met since their 
 parents went to India^ and Mr. Bradley^ who 
 never considers, and cannot bear to say ' no;' 
 did not like to decline the visit. There was no 
 time to put them off on the receipt of your 
 kind note, or we should certainly have done it. 
 I have only seen the Gunnings once, and have 
 no wish to improve the acquaintance ; but my 
 husband is so thoughtless and good-natured.^^ 
 
 '^ Mr. Bradley is a kind man ?' observed 
 Mr. RoUeston, with the same inexplicable look 
 and tone which had before perplexed his hos- 
 tess. " Had you named the Gunnings and 
 Dudleys in your note, you thought I might 
 fancy some disinclination to receive me,'^ he 
 added after a moment's pause. 
 
 ^^ Exactly so 1" replied Mrs. Bradley, believ- 
 ing her guest to be pleased and flattered by 
 her silence. 
 
 '^ And this consideration I must attribute to 
 my fair hostess, I conclude, since Bradley is 
 so thoughtless ?*^
 
 THE FRIGHT. 223 
 
 *• Entirely ; my husband, thinking more of 
 oats and barlev, than of the delicate courte- 
 sies of life/^ answered the lady^ delighted at 
 the view he took of the matter, and piquing 
 herself on having proved such an able tacti- 
 cian. 
 
 " You acted with your usual forethought/' 
 replied her guest. 
 
 Further conversation was prevented by the 
 entrance of the visitors ; first Mrs. Gunning 
 playing the invalid, leaning on the arm of her 
 husband, a common-place looking man with a 
 cunning eye ; then Julia Trevyllian^ one of 
 the loveliest of beings, the fulfilment of her 
 childhood's promise — the realisation of a poet's 
 dream. 
 
 Though awed and abashed at the moment 
 by Mrs. Bradley's rebuke, no sooner had Julia 
 entered the room, than Grace, forgetting all 
 but the presence of that loved sister, whom 
 she had so longed to see — the playmate of her 
 happy childhood — again darting forth from her
 
 224 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 corner rushed into her arms, dinging round 
 her with such Mild expressions of delight, that 
 the graceful Julia, unused to such vehemence, 
 and not recognising her sister in the thin, 
 sallow, sickly looking girl, with a faint scream, 
 that attracted the notice of all, endeavoured to 
 release herself from the unwelcome embrace. 
 
 " Grace ! Grace ! Will you never learn to 
 behave like a lady ?" exclaimed Mrs. Bradley, 
 pushing the child away from her lovely visitor. 
 
 " Is that Grace ?'' questioned Julia in sur- 
 prise, recovering from her first alarm at the 
 unexpected warmth of her reception. 
 
 ^^ You may well ask. Miss Trevyllian, but 
 there are some stones so rough no care can 
 polish them,'^ replied Mrs. Bradley, vexed out 
 of her usual blandness at this unmannerly in- 
 terruption to her graceful mode of performing 
 the hostess. " Stand away !" she continued, 
 seeing that Grace, though scarlet to the very 
 tips of her fingers, with shame and disappoint- 
 ment, still clung to her sister's dress.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 225 
 
 " Oh, Julia ! you have forgotten me : — yet 
 I should have known you any where — in any 
 crowd ;'^ — -said Grace in a tone of tender re- 
 proach, raising her eyes to her sister^s face with 
 a look of deep and devoted affection. 
 
 " Forgive me, dear Grace, if I did not recol- 
 lect you at the moment,^^ said Julia kindly, 
 kissing her cheek, '^^ I thought — '' 
 
 '^ You doubtless thought that your sister 
 would be more like yourself in person and 
 manner ; I regret that you should be so griev- 
 ously disappointed/^ observed Mrs. Bradley, 
 closing her sentence. 
 
 '^ There never was a greater contrast cer-- 
 tainly ; one so lovely, and so graceful — the 
 other so awkward, and such a fright," remarked 
 Mrs. Gunning to her husband ; but loud 
 enough to be heard by Grace, who, shrinking 
 at the tone, more than the words, looked up for 
 a moment on Julia's surpassing loveliness, then 
 accidentally catching the reflection of her own 
 face and figure in a large glass, struck with a 
 L 5
 
 226 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 painful sense of her own inferiority involuntarily 
 let go her sister^s hand; and resuming her 
 wonted bowed^ and crouching attitude would 
 have crept out of sights had not Julia, seeing 
 her distress, gently detained her, vvhilst she 
 took up her defence. 
 
 '^ Not a fright dear aunt;'^ she said, leading 
 Grace towards Mrs. Gunning v/ith a kind, but 
 rather patronising manner — the manner of one 
 assured of admiration let her say or do what 
 she would. '^^ No one can be a fright with such 
 large, lustrous eyes, that say such affectionate 
 and beautiful things. Come, Gracey dear ; you 
 must look up as you looked at me just now." 
 
 But Grace could not look up as she had done 
 just now, for she felt that many eyes were on 
 her, and moreover she felt that though Julia 
 was kind, she had not the same deep and de- 
 voted affection which filled her own sad heart ; 
 so, ashamed and disappointed, she only bowed 
 her head the lower, and clung more closely to 
 her lovely defender^ whilst tear after tear fell
 
 THE FRIGHT. 227 
 
 down on the splendid carpet. Not tears of 
 shame — not tears of anger — but tlie scalding 
 teai's that fall when the young heart feels its 
 hopes are blighted — its strong affection scorned 
 and trampled on — or^ at the best^ not valued — 
 not returned : — the weeping of an autunin_, not 
 an April day — not followed by the sunshine of 
 sweet smiles^ gi'v^ng the promise of a brighter 
 summer. 
 
 ^* There are few things^ Miss Trevyllian^ 
 wliich yon could not effect; but making Grace 
 a beauty, or inducing her to look up against 
 her will are amongst those few/^ observed Mrs. 
 Bradley, with a gracious bow to her young and 
 lovely guest, whom in her heart she wished at 
 tlie top of the Andes, or the bottom of the 
 famous Pohsh salt mine, or any where else 
 sufficiently distant and inaccessible, fearful that 
 Mr. Rolleston, whom she had been anxiously 
 watching, would perceive her superiority over 
 the Misses Bradley ; a superiority which even 
 a doting mother could not deny, ^^ Grace my
 
 228 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 dear, you can retire for the present, and regain 
 composure ; your vehemence has startled and 
 disturbed us alL Perhaps, ISIiss Tre^Tllian, 
 not having met so long, you might like to 
 accompany your sister." 
 
 " Let the poor child remain, my dear ; she 
 will be better presently if you don^t look at her. 
 Grace has a veiy affectionate heart and cannot 
 meet her relations with fashionable indifference ; 
 that is all ; and as to Miss Trevyllian I have 
 not paid her my compliments, so we can part 
 with neither just yet/^ observed Mr. Bradley 
 kindly, 
 
 " As you please, my dear,^^ replied his wife, 
 in her blandest tone, so arranging her guests 
 as to place Mr. Rolleston next herself, whilst 
 Julia, retaining the hand of the weeping Grace^ 
 took the chair brought forward by young 
 Dudley with ready, though shy and awkward 
 politeness. 
 
 " I am afraid you must have found Grace^s 
 folly very annoying,^' remarked Mrs. Bradley
 
 THE FRIGHT. 229 
 
 to Mr. Rolleston^ whilst her husband and Mr. 
 Dudley were playing the polite to the Gun- 
 nings. ^^ The fact is that I can make nothing 
 of her ; and most heartily regret my husband^s 
 thoughtless offer.^^ 
 
 '^ It is evident that she has not profitted by 
 your instructions ; and bears no resemblance 
 in mind or manners to yourself or your fair 
 daughter s^'^ replied Mr. Rolleston^ in a tone 
 Avhich his hostess chose to consider complimen- 
 tary, still keeping his eye on the newly met 
 sisters. His continued observ^ation would not 
 have been surprising even had their relationship 
 to himself and each other been put out of the 
 question ; for nothing could be more striking 
 than the contrast between those sisters as they 
 sat together, the hand of the younger still 
 clasping that of the elder. 
 
 Julia, as we have already said, was of such 
 surpassing loveliness that even the most dull 
 and churlish could not look upon her without 
 admiration. To say that her skin was like
 
 230 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ivoiy or alabaster was to do that skin injustice^ 
 for it had a transparency and deUcate glow, 
 a 1 ife like brilliancy, that could be found in 
 neither. Her features, of the Grecian style, 
 were perfect in their form, whilst over her fair 
 forehead floated a profusion of light brown 
 cui'ls, glossy and soft as silk, arranged with the 
 most tasteful ease. Her figure was as perfect 
 as her face, each movement light and graceful, 
 whilst her soft grey eyes, which suited well 
 with her fair complexion, could also glance and 
 glisten with youthful mirth. 
 
 She was, as her cousin Henry Bradley 
 asserted some hours after, a peerless and 
 bewitching blonde, to whom one could lose 
 one^s heart at first sight, and not wish to 
 recall it for a whole twelvemonth. But perhaps 
 it was Julia's manner that made the contrast 
 between the sisters still more striking than her 
 rare beauty. 
 
 However reluctant the Gunnings might 
 h?ive been to take charge of their half-niece, the
 
 THE FRIGHT. 2.31 
 
 encomiums lavished on her beauty by all who 
 saw her, and the prospect of a splendid match, 
 joined to her sweet temper, soon banished all 
 regret for having yielded to what they termed 
 their chaiitable intentions. Julia became their 
 pride, their darling, petted, caressed, but never 
 chidden; brought up daintily on love and 
 praise, educated at a great expence with the 
 idea constantly impressed upon her mind that 
 her grace, her beauty, her accomplishments 
 might w in, and should command wealth or a 
 coronet — or both conjoined. Had her disposi- 
 tion been less amiable, her temper {ess sweet, 
 with such bringing up Julia Trevyllian must 
 have been vain and overbearing to a disgusting 
 degree ; as it was her manner ^^ as pecuharly 
 attractive ; playful and self possessed, the 
 manner of one who had been petted by aifection 
 rather than spoilt by flattery; who knew 
 that she w-as lovely, and was not displeased to 
 read her power in faltering tones, in following 
 eyes, but who did not appear to crave aftey
 
 232 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 admiration, possibly from the certainty of 
 receixdng it ; and never showed envy or jealousy 
 of others. She moved and spoke with the 
 assured ease of one who, awarc of her grace, 
 and never having been harshly chidden, could 
 feel no fear of offending, or being awkward. 
 If the seeds of pride and vanity had been sown 
 or fostered by her education, they had not yet 
 had time to grow up into rank luxuriance ; and 
 trifling errors were not likely to be judged of 
 hai'dly in one endowed with such a dazzling 
 beauty. Such was Julia ! What a different 
 being to her who sat beside her with that 
 frightened air, and downcast look which had 
 become a habit ; her long thin fingers clasping 
 her sister's hand, whilst fitful blushes came and 
 went upon that sallow cheek, as she occa- 
 sionally glanced into that sister's lovely face, 
 and then turned hastily away whilst her heart 
 sickened at the bitter contrast. It was long 
 since poor Grace had been cheered by the 
 accents of affection i and though she had never
 
 THE FRIGHT. 233 
 
 before so painfully felt the want of all personal 
 attractions — never before been so hurt at the 
 word — fright — yet she had so long been used 
 to incessant chiding^ that she had lost all ease 
 and confidence of manner ; and really looked 
 as sullen and stupid as her foes said she was. 
 Added to this^ she had no advantage of the 
 toilette : her shoes were clumsy — her frock 
 ill made; and her dark brown hair was put 
 back behind her ears without an attempted 
 curl to soften the outline of her sharp features. 
 It was scarcely possible to believe them sisters 
 — the children of the same parents. If Mr. 
 Rolleston had continued to observe them from 
 the moment of Julia's entrance^ Ernest Dudley 
 had not been less marked in his scrutiny, but 
 A\dth this difference ; the old man looked on 
 both, perhaps more at the fright ; whilst the 
 young man paid most attention to the beauty, 
 though he had caught Grace's look, which had 
 elicited Julia's admiration of her speaking, 
 earnest eyes.
 
 234 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Young Dudley as we have said^ was in his 
 nineteenth year, tall, shy, and unformed, in 
 person, or manner, with a countenance that, 
 when the mind was at rest, appeared wanting 
 in animation ; but there were times when that 
 face was ht up with a brilliancy almost 
 dazzling. Reared in seclusion, his father his sole 
 tutor, and almost his sole companion, he had 
 much book learning ; but little worldly wisdom ; 
 and showed some of that father's formality, and 
 ponderous gravity ; except when stirred by 
 some exciting interest. Unused to strangers, 
 he felt embarrassed in their society ; and so 
 httle had he seen of women, especially those of 
 his own age, that when Julians loveliness first 
 broke upon him he was inclined to think her 
 more than mortal, and stood gazing at her 
 with open mouth, and dilated eyes, till his 
 father checked this exhibition of his boyish 
 wonder, by an admonition not to stare. The 
 kindness of her manner to Grace confirming 
 his admiration, encouraged him to address her.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 2J5 
 
 when the rest of the party were talking- too 
 loud to admit of his remai'k being overheard 
 by man}'. JuUa finding Miss Bradley rather 
 stupid, received his advances very graciously, 
 and this modern Cymon was getting more at 
 his ease, when the entrance of Henry and 
 Stephen Bradley, who, after the consequent 
 introductions, msisted on taking him to see 
 their guns and pointers, separated him from 
 the object of his attentions, his place being 
 almost immediately occupied by Mr. Rolleston. 
 
 Never having failed to please when she had 
 condescended to make the attempt, Julia endea- 
 voured to propitiate her great uncle ; but 
 there was a something so repelling in his 
 unvaiying tone, brief answers, and cold, keen 
 looks, that setting him down in her own mind 
 as a cross old frump, she turned away, and 
 began to talk with Grace, who had regained 
 sufficient composure not only to answer 
 questions, but to ask them. 
 
 " Did you receive my letter }'' said Grace in
 
 236 'thi; fright. 
 
 a low voice^ believing that no one overheard 
 her. 
 
 '' Yes, dear V' 
 
 ^^ But you never answered it.'' 
 
 ^^ I had so much to do — so many masters — 
 and my aunt said it was nonsense children 
 writing — and — and — in short, I did not answer 
 it ; and 1 must coax you to forgive me, though 
 I see you are half vexed.'' 
 
 " Not vexed with you, dear Juha ; I am 
 sure you would have written if you could. 
 Have you heard from papa and mamma? I 
 have never had a letter, though they sent me 
 over some play-things a long, long time ago." 
 
 " Oh !" they are quite well ; I can tell you 
 that, dear Gracey ; but my aunt says it would 
 be nonsense to write when they have nothing 
 particular to say, as she knows none of their 
 friends in India." 
 
 " Will they come home soon ?" asked Grace. 
 
 ^^ Oh, no ! the Indigo crops I think they 
 say, or some such thing, have been so bad for
 
 THE FRIGHT. 237 
 
 the last few years that they have not made as 
 much as they expected ; and must remain in 
 India some time longer.'^ 
 
 ^^ They will never come back — I shall never 
 see them ;^^ — said Grace with a quivering lip^ 
 and a tone so sad that Julia, touched by its 
 mom-nfulness. tried to cheer her. 
 
 ^^ Yes dear Gracey, you will : perhaps in 
 four or five years more.^^ 
 
 ^^ Four or five years more !^' repeated Grace 
 despairingly. ^^ Do you think papa and 
 mamma love us as they used to do?" she 
 questioned with an eager look. 
 
 ^^ Yes Grace ; I daresay they love us very 
 weU." 
 
 ^^ Only very well_, JuHa ?" 
 
 ^^ Is not that enough, and all that we can 
 expect ? No affection, my aunt says, will 
 stand time and distance, without growing 
 cooler." 
 
 ^' Say not so, dear Juha ; I love papa and 
 mamma more everj^ day."
 
 2,^ THE FRIGHT. 
 
 a 
 
 Do you ? All ! but you were always a dear 
 affectionate child.'^ 
 
 ^^ iVre you happy, Julia ?'' asked Grace 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Happy ! yes veiy happy ! How can I be 
 otherwise V 
 
 '^ Ah ! then that makes the difference P' 
 said Grace with a deep sigh. 
 
 ^MVhat difference?^' 
 
 Grace made no repl}^ 
 
 " Are you not happy ?" 
 
 ^^ Happy, Julia ? Oh;, no, no/' exclaimed 
 her sister, in a low, hollow voice, with a timid 
 glance towards Mrs. Bradley. 
 
 " My poor Grace,^' said Julia compassi- 
 onately. I wish my aunt would ask you to 
 come and stay with us." 
 
 '^ Oh, if she would !" exclaimed Grace 
 clasping her hands. 
 
 " I will coax her, Gracey ; but you must not 
 look so wildly, or speak so energetically, for my 
 aunt dislikes any thing so prononce ; you
 
 THE FRIGHT. 239 
 
 must learn to control your feelings. Let us 
 talk on other subjects that you may resume 
 your composure.'' 
 
 " You have not asked after poor Frolic^'^ 
 remarked Grace a little reproachfully a few 
 minutes later. 
 
 " Frolic — who is Frolic ?" 
 
 ^'' Oh Julia ! not remember dear old Frolic, 
 that used to let us dress him up and make 
 him dance ; and would sit by our beds all day 
 when we were ill." 
 
 ^^ Now I remember ; but my dear little 
 Gracey, do not speak and look so reproachfully ; 
 1 beg his pardon for not ha^dng inquired after 
 him. I recollect you could not be pacified 
 when my aunt sent him awaj" ; we were silly 
 children then to make so much fuss about a 
 dog. My aunt has such a beautiful Httle 
 French poodle now that would really delight 
 you ; — the most lovely creature you ever saw ; 
 and so accomplished ! — full of tricks — quite a 
 bijou \"
 
 240 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 '' But you do not love it as well as dear old 
 Frolic, Julia?'' 
 
 ^^ Yes, a great deal better ; Frolic is quite a 
 fright compared to Mignon." 
 
 ^' And you cannot love a fright/' said Grace 
 with a quivering lip. 
 
 " I love you very much, dear Gracey/' replied 
 Julia, comprehending her feeling, and pressing 
 her hand. ^^And you would love Mignon if 
 you saw him." 
 
 "No, I should not, for he has made you 
 forget dear, good old Frolic, who was always so 
 patient and good tempered, let us teaze him as 
 we would." 
 
 ^^ Well, Gracey, as I said before, you have 
 the kindest and most affectionate heart that ever 
 living creature had ! I am afraid I shall never 
 be half as good," observed JuHa gaily, speaking 
 with a patronizing air to hide some little con- 
 fusion at the gentle reproach. ^' What a treasure 
 of a wife ! — so loving ! — so constant ! — always 
 preferring old friends to new ones. A pity that
 
 THE FRIGHT. 211 
 
 Captain Rawclon is not here to claim his Httle 
 bride." 
 
 " Dear, kind Captain Rawdon ! Do you 
 know where he is ?" asked Grace with eager- 
 ness. "See; 1 ahvays wear the chain and 
 locket that he gave me" 
 
 " Very right," said the laughing Julia. 
 
 *^\Vill he come back soon?" asked Grace, 
 not heeding, from not comprehending her 
 sister^s railleiy. 
 
 '• I fear not : he is exchanged into another 
 regiment, and ^^ ill remain abroad some years. 
 But do not look so sad about it, dear Gracey ; 
 or I shall really believe that you have lost your 
 heart." 
 
 '^ Oh, Julia I you should not laugh at me, if 
 others do. I know that I am a fright, and 
 stupid and sulky, and that I do not deserve 
 tliat any one should love me ; but he loved me 
 and spoke kindly, and you cannot tell how my 
 heart ])eats at hearing a kind word ; and how 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 I lo^e the few that use them. You are happy, 
 and so beautiful that every one loves you ; and 
 so you cannot understand all this.'^ 
 
 ^' Do not talk so strangely^ and so sadly, dear 
 Grace ; you are neither a fright, nor stupid, 
 nor sulky, and I love you very much, and so do 
 Mrs. Bradley and your cousins I dare say.^^ 
 
 ^^ Mrs. Bradley !" repeated Grace, turning 
 away with a shudder. 
 
 ^^You are too sensitive, my little Gracey ; but 
 we will talk of these things when alone. Tell 
 me of your pet Frolic. How is he ?" ques- 
 tioned Julia, fearing from her sister's agitation 
 another scene, which would bring rebuke on 
 the poor child, and strike Mrs. Gunning as 
 being so thoroughly countryfied. 
 
 ^^ He is ill, poor fellow — very ill — dying, 
 they say, of old age ; and when he is gone I 
 shall have nothing, and nobody left in England 
 to love but you ; and you, who are loved by so 
 many, will not have time to care for me.'^ 
 
 ^^ Do not think so, dear Grace,^^ said Julia,
 
 THE FRIGHT. 243 
 
 tears coming into her eyes at these touching 
 words. *^ I shall always love you very clearly .^^ 
 
 " Julia^ the dressing bell has rung. You 
 are looking ill and tired, and I fear have been 
 talking over melancholy things, which can do 
 no good," observed Mrs. Gunning ; " You had 
 better go and dress." 
 
 " Yes, dear aunt, directly," replied Julia, 
 ])assing her hand caressingly round her sister's 
 neck. As she rose to leave the room she en- 
 countered the gaze of Mr. Rolleston, from 
 which she involuntarily shrank. Had he over- 
 heard their conversation ? He might have 
 done so. And what was the meaning of that 
 look, so different from the admiring glances to 
 which she had been long accustomed ? She 
 could not read its meaning, but she did not like 
 it — that was certain. 
 
 On entering the drawing-room after dinner 
 
 Julia called Grace, who, with Eliza, still dined 
 
 with Miss Heywood, to come and sit beside 
 
 her, whispering, as the delighted girl obeyed, 
 
 M 2
 
 244 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " But you must be merry, Grace, or at least 
 not make me seem sad, lest my aunt should 
 prohibit our being together. She declares 1 
 look five years older since my arrival, and all 
 owing to you. 
 
 * So let's be gay the while we may, 
 For life is short and wears away. ' " 
 
 ^' 1 cannot be merry, dear Julia.'' 
 " Yes but you must, we w ill laugh and be 
 merry together," replied Julia lightly. " This 
 is w inter time, when every one is gay. Cousin 
 Harriet please to come and amuse me ; I want 
 some one to make me laugh,'' she continued, 
 addressing the eldest Miss Bradley, who, be- 
 sides envying the beauty and elegance of their 
 young guest, was displeased with the supe- 
 riority w^hich she unconsciously assumed over 
 her and her sister, who, though fine looking 
 girls, were deficient in taste and style. 
 
 '^ I never say funny things. Miss Trevyllian ; 
 and mamma says it is not elegant or ladylike 
 to laugh out loud," replied Harriet Bradley.
 
 THE Fill GUT. 215 
 
 '• Oh, dear, how very vulgar I am !" said 
 Julia half hidiug her face with her hands as if 
 ashamed^ perfonning the action with such 
 inimitable grace, as to ehcit smiles from her 
 fashionable aunt, and bursts of laughter from 
 Ernest Dudley and the young Bradley s, who 
 had entered just in time to catch her words. 
 
 However mannish Henry Bradley might 
 have considered it some years before, or how- 
 ever mannish he might consider it even now 
 to slight or torment his sisters and his ugly 
 country cousin, he shewed no inclination to 
 slight the town-bred Julia, whose beauty had 
 made a strong impression on his very suscep- 
 tible heart. Being now nineteen, and having 
 passed the last eight years at Eton, he not 
 only regarded himself as a man, but expected 
 every one else to do the same ; and as falling in 
 love was considered by him a proof of man- 
 hood, he had no objection to being supposed 
 a captive to his fair cousin ; and to prove his 
 devotion he stationed himself beside her as
 
 246 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 soon as possible, never quitting her through- 
 out the evening. Fully aware that he was an 
 eldest son, and a fine young man ; but totally 
 unconscious that his manners wanted the 
 polish of high breeding, he thought his atten- 
 tions being calculated to do honour to their 
 object should be received with gratitude ; and 
 was consequently never deterred by shyness 
 or humility from flirting with each fair damsel 
 who pleased his fancy, deserting her when 
 one more lovelv met his view. His brother 
 Stephen being a second son with a plainer 
 exterior, instead of wooing in such an off- 
 hand style, made his approaches in a more 
 guarded and often more successful mode ; the 
 flattery of his tongue and eyes proving more 
 powerful engines in his favour than Henry's 
 better looks and prospects. In flirtations they 
 had already been rivals more than once, and 
 such seemed likely to be the case in the pre- 
 sent instance, as each brother strove to out-do 
 the other in his attentions to the lovely Julia;
 
 THE FRIGHT. 247 
 
 whilst a third, but not alarming competitor 
 for the lady^s favour, appeared in the person of 
 Ernest Dudley, who, though superior to b6th 
 in sense and learning, from his shyness among 
 strangers, did not express his admiration in a 
 style likely to attract a youthful beauty. Ac- 
 customed to admiration from her childhood, 
 Julia received their compliments with graceful 
 badinage, encouraging rather than checking 
 their adulation, being ever willing to provide 
 amusement for the passing moment, without 
 bestowing much thought on the future ; yet, 
 amidst all her coquetry — for coquetry it was, 
 though so delicate that it could scarcely dis- 
 please the most fastidious — she kept Grace by 
 her side, every now and then addressing her 
 in words of affection. 
 
 " I am come to plead for a song, my dear 
 Miss Trevyllian," said Mrs. Bradley in her 
 blandest accents, wishing to check her son'& 
 flirtation till she could ascertain whether Mr.
 
 248 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Rolleston would approve or disapprove of a 
 union between the cousins ; or till she had dis- 
 covered whether the Gunnings would bestow 
 their fortune on the protegee of whom they 
 seemed so fond. The young men joined in the 
 entreaty, and Julia without any affectation 
 walked to the piano, followed by her beaux, 
 who showed all proper assiduity in placing the 
 stool, arranging the lights, selecting the song, 
 and applauding the singer at its conclusion ; 
 an applause fairly earned, for Julia's voice was 
 both sweet and powerful, and did credit to the 
 pains taken by her masters, some of the first 
 in town. 
 
 "Beautiful! exquisite! quite divine!'^ ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Bradley, inwardly raging with 
 jealousy at observing that Mr. Rolleston seemed 
 much struck with his niece's singing, " What 
 a delightful girl Miss Trevyllian is ! so lovely ! 
 so accomplished ! such a contrast to poor 
 Grace. I quite envy you Mrs. Gunning. She
 
 THE F.ilGHT. 249 
 
 is too beautiful to remain long unmarried 
 though 1 suppose you would be fastidious iu 
 your choice/^ 
 
 " Why Julia, all things considered, is cer- 
 tainlv entitled to look hi":h. We have not 
 yet heard Miss Bradley sing; surely she will 
 give us that pleasure." 
 
 '• Certainly, since you wish it. Harriet, my 
 dear, Mrs. Gunning entreats you for a song, 
 tliougli your singing must appear as nothing 
 after Miss Trevyllian, not having had the ad- 
 vantage of London masters. A simple country 
 girl, with a simple country education ; but our 
 friends will not be critical,'^ continued Mrs. 
 Bradley anxious that Julia should not sing 
 again, lest Mr. Rollestoa's anger against her 
 father should be subdued by her sweet notes.. 
 
 The beauty returned to her sofa accompanied 
 
 Ijy Grace, and was again surrounded by her 
 
 attendant cavalier?, who would have talked 
 
 whilst Harriet sang had Julia not insisted upon 
 
 silence. 
 
 M 5
 
 250 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " Splendid ! quite a la Pasta /" exclaimed 
 Mr. Blundell, the son of a neighbouring squire, 
 who, seeing Julia engaged, had flirted during 
 and after dinner with Miss Bradley, turning 
 the leaves of her music book, and keeping, or 
 pretending to keep time, with foot and hand. 
 Harriet received the praises of Mr. Blundell 
 and the other guests with pretended humility ; 
 but with the real conviction that her singing 
 was equal to her cousin *s, though her voice was 
 ill calculated for Italian music, and she had 
 neither taste nor feeling. How could she 
 doubt her own powers when they had been for 
 so many years the theme of praise from Miss 
 Hey wood and her mother? 
 
 A duet with her sister followed, which was 
 also duly, or unduly admired, we should say 
 praised, yet still Miss Bradley retained her seat 
 at the piano. 
 
 " Does not your other pupil play or sing. 
 Miss Heywood?'^ asked Mr. RoUeston, pointing 
 to Grace, and confusing the poor governess.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 251 
 
 who was obliged to pause a moment to con- 
 struct a proper answer for one of whom so 
 many stood in awe. 
 
 " I am grieved, sir, to be compelled to admit 
 that MissGrace Trevyllian has not been endowed 
 by prolific nature with that correct construction 
 of the oral organs, or that delicate arrangement 
 of the nerves, which gives the possessor a taste 
 for heavenly harmony ; and the power to — 
 
 " Raise a mortal to the skies. 
 Or bring an Angel down !" 
 
 She has passed the threshold of the divine 
 science, but as yet she has — " 
 
 " Profited little by your instructions,'* in- 
 terrupted Mr, Rolleston with an involuntary 
 curling of the lip, which made Miss Heywood 
 turn away and avoid his neighbourhood for 
 the remainder of the visit. 
 
 '• Don't you play or sing, Grace ? asked her 
 sister. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! she plays Tom Titler," said Miss 
 Khza Bradley.
 
 252 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ^ And siiigs : — 
 
 " Oh ! I'm a beauty bright, 
 My mother's darling child." 
 
 added Stephen Bradley, joining in his sistei*^s 
 laugh, " Do enchant us once more most lovely 
 cousin : the very thought of Grace^s singing- 
 has set my teeth on edge." 
 
 ''We want something to keep us alive this 
 dull winter time. What say you to a game of 
 Fright, Miss Trevyllian ? The prize this land- 
 scape annual/^ interposed Mrs. Bradley before 
 Julia could assent. 
 
 ''Any thing you please,'^ said Julia, who, 
 with her present audience cared little whether 
 she sang or not. " Come Gracey, play yoiu* 
 best ; I am determined you shall win,^' she 
 added in a whisper, hoping to direct her atten- 
 tion from Stephen Bradley^s comment, engaging 
 the co-operation of the kind, though awkward 
 Dudley, by an intelligent, and pleading glance. 
 
 So fright began amid shouts of laughter from 
 the young who played, and the old who looked
 
 THE FRIGHT. 253 
 
 on; and all seemed so glad and gleesome^ that 
 even the timid Grace was won to smiles. 
 
 ^^ There^ Gracey dear, I said you should win ; 
 and so you have," cried Julia, presenting the 
 book to her sister with a manner so graceful, a 
 look so joyous and kind, that the poor child's 
 eyes were filled with tears of joy, as she received 
 it ; and Ernest Dudley, who had assisted in 
 the victory by changing cai'ds unknown to the 
 victor, by which he became the loser, believed 
 that the whole earth contained no other being 
 so lovely as Julia Tre^yllian, and felt himself 
 the happiest creatiu'e breathing on meeting her 
 approving look.. 
 
 The game concluded, Julia, in compliance 
 with a hint from her aunt, again tried her 
 powers of fascination an Mr. Rolleston ; but 
 with so little success, though he was the shadow 
 of a shade less churlish than before, that she 
 soon gave up the endeavour and turned a not 
 unwilling ear to the flatteries of her cousins, 
 and an unreproving eye on the admiration of
 
 254 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 Ernest Dudley, who could only look his 
 devotion, being far too shy to give it utterance. 
 
 **We have got over the day uncommonly 
 well," remarked Mr. Bradley to his wife just 
 before yielding to the sleep that was coming 
 over him. " I never saw RoUeston in such 
 good humour — so gracious to all ; — conversing 
 with the Gunnings as though they were not 
 related to Mrs. Trevyllian. 
 
 " Yes/' replied his wife ; " It has passed off 
 better than I expected, thanks to your not 
 naming the Gunnings in the note; but gra- 
 cious as is Mr. Rolleston, there is a something 
 in him which I cannot understand. He looks 
 as if he saw every thing, and cared for nothing ; 
 and then his tone that makes one colour with- 
 out knowing why ; I cannot comprehend him.'* 
 
 "That is nothing extraordinary — no one 
 does. I should have said, but it cannot be, 
 that he was more annoyed at meeting the 
 Dudleys than the Gunnings. He looked quite 
 tierce at Mr, Dudley, though they are stran-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 255 
 
 gers, which is the more singular as he is a 
 pleasant, sensible man/' 
 
 "A prosy old book worm, who may know 
 what passed a thousand years ago, but certainly 
 knows nothing of what is passing now ; and his 
 son is his papa's own child ; shy and sheepish, 
 devouring JuHa with his eyes, but not daring 
 to address her, or in so low a tone that no 
 one else can catch a word. This comes of 
 home education ! You see now, my dear, 
 the difference of having sent our boys to 
 Eton/' 
 
 " I shall have to pay the difference without 
 dispute ; but I doubt if that shy, silent boy 
 has not double the learning of Harry and 
 Stephen clubbed together." 
 
 " Learning !" repeated Mrs. Bradley con- 
 temptuously. " Look at their manners. Which 
 will make their way in the world, and win 
 fortunes by their tongues ?" 
 
 " Time will show. Had you said by their 
 persevering application, I should at once have
 
 256 THE fhight. 
 
 decided in favour of young Dudley. Harry has 
 impudence, and Stephen has cunning ; but for 
 manner — I think less slang would be more 
 elegant. Instead of attending to the farm they 
 occupy their whole time in sporting and flirting ; 
 I hope they may not find themselves poor 
 men.^^ 
 
 " That is just like you^ Mr. Bradley ; always 
 croajving, and finding fault. Yet who runs 
 greater risks of losing fortunes through impru- 
 dence than yourself^ playing the part of nurse 
 tender to other people^s children to your own 
 detriment. That ti^oublesome child putting 
 herself so forward to-day, just when we wished 
 to keep her in the back ground. And the idea 
 of your defending her, thus setting yourself in. 
 more open opposition against your cousin ; but 
 it was just yovu* custom. There is one thing I 
 must entreat, that you do not press the Gun- 
 nings to remain after to-morrow. Mr. RoUes^ 
 ton seemed struck with Julians beauty and 
 singing, and should he see much more of her
 
 THE FRIGHT. 25? 
 
 may make her his heh'ess ; — no fear of his 
 taking a fancy to Grace, and so far her hoy- 
 (lenism of to-day may have been fortunate. 
 Could not you propose some excursion for the 
 young people that would keep them out of your 
 cousin's way?'^ 
 
 The only reply she received was a snore.
 
 258 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Early the next morning a gentle tap was 
 heard at JuUa's door, and then Grace entered 
 with a timid step. 
 
 "Will you take this, and sometimes think 
 of me_, whilst using it }" said the blushing girl, 
 presenting a note-case nicely worked. 
 
 " Thank you, dear Grace. How very pretty, 
 and how very kind V said JuHa, kissing the 
 donor, and colouring at the consciousness that 
 she did not love as she was loved. " How 
 nicely worked ! Who made it }''
 
 THE FRIGHT. 259 
 
 " Who made it ? Was it not for you, Julia, 
 and do you think I would have let another put 
 even a stitch in it ? I should have been jealous." 
 
 " Ah, Gracey dear ! you certainly are the 
 best Uttle creature living," cried Julia, with a 
 second kiss, and a deeper feeling of shame. 
 " But they said last night that you could not 
 work." 
 
 " They say many things that are not true ; 
 I am not as stupid as they assert; I wish I 
 were ! — I should be happier then, not com- 
 prehending their unkind remarks." 
 
 " Let me shew this, and prove that you can 
 work, at least." 
 
 " No, no ; you must not shew it. Ann 
 bought me the silks when she went home, and 
 I have got up at sunrise morning after morning 
 that I might finish it in time, unknown to 
 any.^^ 
 
 " Dear, dear child ! To think of your giving 
 yourself so much trouble for me," cried Julia, 
 conscience stricken.
 
 2G0 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 '' A trouble, Julia ! it was a pleasure to work 
 for you. I only feared that I should not do it 
 well, or that you might not like it.'^ 
 
 '^ But I do like it very much, and shall often 
 think of her who worked it. I wish you were 
 going with us ; but I cannot coax my aunt to 
 consent." 
 
 " And you asked her ? — you really asked ? — 
 you wdshed to have me with you — ugly, and 
 awkward, and stupid as I am V^ exclaimed the 
 grateful child in joyous tones, forgetting, in 
 the rapture of her gratitude, the non-fulfilment 
 of her wishes. 
 
 '^ Yes, indeed I did ; I tell you what, dear 
 Gracey, I am not as you are — I have not your 
 strong and unselfish affection that can with- 
 stand distance and time ; I have not your 
 simple single-heartedness ; I am vain and 
 ambitious : but I am not so w orldly yet, what- 
 ever I may be hereafter, but what I can see 
 and prize your worth ; — ay, and w ish that I 
 were like you too.^^
 
 THE FRIGHT. 261 
 
 ^' Wish to be like me ?' repeated Grace in 
 wonder. 
 
 ^^ Yes, wish I had your simple^ grateful^ 
 loving heart, dear Grace/^ said Julia, with, a 
 half smile at the idea of their changing persons. 
 '^ And yet," she added with a touch of deeper 
 feeling, " I doubt the wisdom of the wish : to 
 love as you love is to run a fearful risk — to set 
 our happiness upon one cast, and, if we lose, 
 che of a broken heart ! No, better laugh and 
 jest with all, but care for none ; for love is a 
 game at which few play honestly, or stand 
 equal chances. One stakes his all ; is ruined 
 if he lose : and if he win, Avins but a worthless 
 bauble ! No ; — 
 
 * I'll be merry and free ; 
 rU be sad for naebody ;' " 
 
 sang Julia gaily. " At least naebody but you, 
 ma Mignome ; so I will love you very much; 
 and you must love me as you do now, let what 
 will come to pass ; this shall be the token of 
 our plighted faith," placing a ring upon her
 
 262 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 finger^ with a Forget-me-not in turquoise. ^^A 
 pledge that each will sen^e the other to the 
 utmost of her power. There^ my dear, I am 
 growing as loving and unworldly as yourself; 
 but you must not weep,^' kissing away her 
 tears. '^ Crying makes one a figure, and tells 
 others what one might as well keep to one's 
 self; namely, that one has feeling; besides my 
 aunt is calUng.'' So saying, passing her hand 
 across her own eyes, and giving another kiss to 
 the wondering Grace, she huri'ied away to at- 
 tend Mrs. Gunning to the breakfast room. 
 
 ^^ My own dear Julia !" murmured Grace as 
 she looked at the ring, forgetting at the mo- 
 ment every care and vexation in the delight of 
 feeling herself beloved. ^^ Yes, if I can ever 
 serve you, it shall be done ; even to the break- 
 ing of my own heart.'^ 
 
 In pursuance of her plan Mrs. Bradley pro- 
 posed that the young people should walk to 
 Westford Coppice, which, with its pretty 
 stream and ruined tower, was one of the Hons
 
 THE FRIGHT. 263 
 
 of the neighbourhood ; whilst she took Mrs. 
 Gunning and others to a second Hon at a 
 greater distance ; a scheme to which all readily 
 assented. 
 
 " Will you not come and see poor Frolic 
 first y asked Grace of JuHa in a whisper. 
 
 " I can do him no good^ and have little 
 fancy for seeing sick dogs^ lest they should go 
 mad/^ replied her sister, who was at the mo- 
 ment much better amused in listening to 
 Henry Bradley's compliments. 
 
 Grace turned away with a disappointed look ; 
 and neither the look nor the preceding whisper 
 were unremarked by Mr. Rolleston and Ernest 
 Dudley. 
 
 Tlie yonng party were soon equipped for their 
 walk, and started in high spirits, their number 
 increased by the attendance of Harriet's beau 
 of the night before, and a young friend, who 
 accidentally met and joined them. 
 
 The strangers, from poHteness or inclination, 
 attached themselves to the Misses Bradley,
 
 264 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 who made no objection to this arrangement, 
 whilst Henry, Stephen, and Ernest Dudley 
 devoted themselves to Grace and Julia ; or 
 rather to Julia alone, for neither of the three 
 would have noticed Grace's presence, had she 
 not by retaining her sister's arm prevented 
 more than one from walkiiig next the beauty, a 
 distinction coveted by all. 
 
 On passed the youthful party, their light 
 laughs ringing in the morning air; their gay 
 jests speaking hearts that knew no grief. 
 
 JuUa seemed fully resolved on practising her 
 morning's moral : — 
 
 " 111 be merry and free ; 
 ril be sad for naebody." 
 
 She had a smile or a retort for each of her 
 attendants ; now sporting with one, now sport- 
 ing with another; her beauty rendered more 
 brilliant by the exercise and the flatteries 
 poured upon her. Though only the beginning 
 of February, it was a clear, bright, sunshiny 
 day ; a slight frost, but no wind ; not too cold
 
 THE FRIGHT. 265 
 
 for a walk ; and Julia, despite her town educa- 
 tion, trip})ed lightly along the rugged path, or 
 sprang over the obstacles which obstructed the 
 way, with as much glee, and far more gTace 
 than her country cousins ; her spirits rising 
 higher and higher as she proceeded, till she 
 forgot to retake her sister^s arai, bestowing 
 her attention at the moment on Ernest 
 Dudley, who, inspired by her animation, for 
 once discoursed with ease and fluency. 
 
 '^ Where is the fairy bark that is to bear me 
 across ^ this raging water ?^ '' asked Julia gaily, 
 as they reached the brink of a pretty stream. 
 '^ The bridge is broken down ; and I have no 
 wings to bear mc over. In the words of the 
 song — ^ I wish I were a little bird.^ '' 
 
 ^'And I your tuneful mate," said Dudley 
 with a low, earnest voice, and crimson cheek, 
 abashed at his own boldness. 
 
 " I would ^\\e up shooting then lest I 
 should unwittingly injure you," observed 
 Henry Bradley. 
 
 \OL. I. N
 
 266 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " And I would place lure upon lure ; spread 
 net upon net, till I had made you my captive," 
 remarked his brother Stephen. 
 
 '^Nay, then I recall my wish," said Julia 
 blushing, but not with displeasure. '^ So you 
 must tax your wit and gallantry and get me 
 across poor simple girl as I am ; for positively 
 I must mount that pretty slope on the other 
 side." 
 
 ^^ We will soon manage that," exclaimed the 
 brothers. 
 
 Large stones were brought from a neigh- 
 bouring heap, and thrown into the stream, a 
 burst of merriment following every splash, as 
 the thrower rarely escaped a sprinkling ; and 
 thus with the addition of a plank from the 
 broken bridge, a crossing was erected, 
 whose insecurity only made it the more agree- 
 able to the light hearted group. 
 
 Julia passed safely over with the assistance 
 of her three devoted esquires, her only danger 
 consisting in all pressing forward to aid her.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 26? 
 
 and then bounded lightly away up the pretty 
 slope, which she had before admired, followed 
 by the rivals contending for her attention. 
 The Misses Bradley crossed as safely with the 
 assistance of their respective beaux, but no 
 one aided — no one thought of Grace; and 
 there she stood on the other side of the stream 
 unable to pass alone, the plank having been 
 partly displaced by Eliza, yet too timid to ask 
 help of a stranger ; and aware that her cousins 
 would laugh at her distress. 
 
 " See ! Grace cannot get over," exclaimed 
 Harriet, as having arrived midway up the 
 ascent she turned to look back. "That is 
 good fun !" 
 
 " You are on the right side to run away, my 
 little beauty," shouted Henry. 
 
 '^ Let us see how you can swim," shouted 
 Stephen. 
 
 " Shall 1 help her ?" asked young Blundell. 
 
 " Oh, no ! she can cross if she likes," said 
 N 2
 
 268 THE FRTGIIT. 
 
 Harriet quickly, unwilling to be deserted by 
 her beau. 
 
 Ernest Dudley who, to his great delight, 
 had succeeded in fixing Julia's attention by 
 his spirited relation of an ancient legend, 
 desired nothing less than an interruption j 
 but as he involuntarily turned at the last loud 
 shout his kindness of heart triumphed over 
 every feeling of vanity, or the w ish to make a 
 serious impression on the lovely Julia. There 
 was a something so sad and touching in the 
 child's attitude as she stood looking towards 
 the gay and mocking group — something so 
 heartless and revolting in the shouts of 
 mockery of her cousins, that, breaking off 
 abruptly, he ran back to the stream, and find- 
 ing that the plank had been carried away by 
 the current took Grace in his arms, with the 
 kindness of a brother, before she guessed his 
 purpose, and bore her across, springing from 
 stone to stone.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 269 
 
 " Thank you !" said Grace in a low, faltering 
 voice, as he set her down on the other side. 
 
 " I do not deserve your thanks," he replied, 
 touched by her manner ; ^^ I should have 
 helped you over before, and not have left you 
 standing there." 
 
 ^' Why should you, a stranger, do this, 
 when my cousins only mocked ?" 
 
 " Because I have been taught to feel for 
 others ; and they have not, I should ima- 
 gine. But you are tired ; take my arm and 
 let me aid you up this hill. 
 
 Grace's look of gratitude was not to be mis- 
 taken, or forgotten ; yet the next instant she 
 drew back, saying, as she did so, ^^ But you 
 would rather be with Julia, and 1 would not 
 detain you.'^ 
 
 '' Oh, no !'' stammered Dudley, with a 
 crimson blush, drawing her arm within his, 
 and ascending the hill. 
 
 " Well done, Don Quixote V shouted 
 Henrv, wishing; to make his rival ridiculous.
 
 270 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " Let us walk on, or we shall be late ; they 
 will soon overtake us^" said Stephen in an 
 insinuating tone. 
 
 "You may do as you please^ but I shall 
 wait for Grace, whom we have treated very 
 ill/' said Julia resolutely. 
 
 Of course the gentleman remained beside 
 her ; and Henry deferred his raillery till some 
 more fitting time. 
 
 " Dear Grace, can you forgive me, that, 
 intoxicated by the flatteries of these gallant 
 knights," and her eye passed with a playful 
 mocking smile from one to the other, "I for- 
 got you for a season ?'^ 
 
 " It is very kind of you to think of me at 
 all," replied Grace with humility. 
 
 " It would be a shame if I did not think of 
 such a good little creature. You deserve a 
 victors wreath Mr. Dudley ; or, in plain prose, 
 the praise of every warm and honest heart. 
 Now go on with your interesting legend.'^ 
 
 Ernest coloured, stammered out some
 
 THE FRIGHT. 271 
 
 unintelligible words touching his delight at 
 having won her approbation, and then pro- 
 ceeded with his legend according to her wish ; 
 but not in his former spirited style, owing to 
 the constant and impertinent interruptions of 
 the young Bradleys, who were resolved on tor- 
 menting their rival to the utmost of their 
 power. The coppice and ruin were properly 
 admired, — and the party returned as gay as 
 when they had started. 
 
 '^ Just come round this walk, Julia,^^ said 
 her sister, as they were passing through the 
 garden on their way to the house. 
 
 " Yes, it is out as I hoped ; I have been 
 watching it every day for a long time," cried 
 Grace, presenting her sister with a purple 
 violet growing in a sunny spot. 
 
 " Thank you, Gracey. This is quite a de- 
 light at this season ; and I am sure it would 
 not have blown but for your nursing. My 
 annt will envy me my treasure." 
 
 If the young people returned in good spirits
 
 272 THE TRIGHT. 
 
 and good temper^, it was more than could be 
 said of their elders, whose minds were sadly 
 out of tune ; and as it seemed this universal dis- 
 cord was caused by the jarring of one string. 
 If Mr. Rolleston had played the polite and 
 agreeable the evening before^, he seemed inclined 
 to indemnify himself for his unwonted gracious- 
 ness by enacting the rude and the disagreeable 
 in the morning. The Gunnings decided that 
 nothing should induce them to remain another 
 day : Mr. Dudley felt that he was hated if not 
 insulted ; and Mrs. Bradley fancied that he took 
 especial pleasure in annoying her ; yet had all 
 those aggrieved been called on to substantiate 
 their injuries no jury would have given a ver- 
 dict in their favor. Mr. Rolleston^s w^ords if re- 
 peated would have sounded too trifling for cen- 
 sure ; yet each and all considered themselves 
 affronted. It was not so much his words as his 
 manner; — not w^hat he said, but what he im- 
 plied ; — not what he spoke but what he looked. 
 Mr. Bradley was the only one who felt un-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 273 
 
 awed by this awiul man ; whether because he 
 cared not who read the whole of his character, and 
 plans ; or whether because Mr. RoUeston treated 
 him with more consideration it matters not. , 
 
 Nor did Mr. RoUeston's temper seem much 
 mended in the evenino: when all were assem- 
 bled in the drawing-room ; but as he sat silent 
 and apart, apparently occupied with a book 
 there was less chance of an unpleasant collision. 
 
 The rest of the party were grouped pretty 
 much as they had been the evening before, 
 except that the two young men, who had 
 escorted the walkers, having been invited to 
 dinner Miss Eliza Bradley enjoyed the plea- 
 sure of a flirtation as well as her sister, she 
 being a whole head taller, two years older, 
 and far more of a woman than Grace Trevyl- 
 lian, who, poor child thouglit only of papa 
 and mamma, Julia, Frolic, and the kind- 
 hearted Rawdon. 
 
 Mr. Bradley had just concluded a descrip- 
 tion of his favorite plough to Mr. Gunning, 
 N 5
 
 274 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 who endeavoured to look as if he had under- 
 stood him ; Mrs. Gunning had just delighted 
 her hostess with a tale of fashionable scandal ; 
 and the flirters had just paused for a moment 
 to think either of their past nothings, or their 
 future, when Mr. Dudley who had been 
 discoursing most historically and philosophi- 
 cally touching the civilisation, arts, sciences, 
 and general learning of the ancients with a 
 neighbouring antiquary, thinking this a pro- 
 pitious moment for showing off the acquire- 
 ments of his son, whose only tutor he had 
 been, called upon him from the other end of 
 the room to take a part in the conversation. 
 
 " Can you remember, Ernest, who founded 
 the Alexandrian library, and in what year ?" 
 
 " Ernest, who had been silent for the last 
 ten minutes, completely absorbed in admira- 
 tion of Julia's beauty, which he had been 
 contemplating with open eyes and lips apart, 
 startled at the question, stammered out " beau- 
 tiful/* and then stared enquiringly at his
 
 THE FRIGHT. 2/5 
 
 father, not havin> understood one \^0'd of his 
 question. 
 
 A general titter succeeded, but was checked 
 by pohteness ; whilst Mr. Dudley repeated 
 his query, with more even than his usual 
 elaborate formality. 
 
 '^ Can you remember when the Alexandrian 
 library was founded, and by whom ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir -/' answered Ernest recovering his 
 confusion, and collecting his thoughts on the 
 instant. 
 
 Mr. Dudley though prosy was a learned 
 man, and what is more had a real love for 
 learning, apart from a ridiculous desire to 
 shew off his son's attainments ; and his son's 
 tastes and feelings were the same, with the 
 exception, that he never dreamt of display; 
 and thus when appealed to, supposing that his 
 father's memory had really failed on the point 
 enquired, he hastened with the most perfect 
 simplicity and single-mindedness to supply 
 him with the required information; and know-
 
 2^6 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ing his wish to dive beneath the surface, 
 entered more into detail than he would have 
 done to any one else, never guessing that 
 others might find any thing ridiculous in his 
 so doing, 
 
 *^The Alexandrian library was founded by 
 Ptolemy Ist, surnamed Lagos^ Ki^g of Egypt, 
 who died at an advanced age, about 234 years 
 before Christ. Educated in the Court of 
 Philip of Macedon, he accompanied Alexander 
 the Great in his invasion of Asia, killed one of 
 the Indian monarchs in single combat, and 
 reduced the rock Aornus. Egypt having been 
 assigned him on the demise of the world's 
 conqueror, and Perdicas failing in bis attempt 
 to drive him thence, he assumed the title of 
 king, about nineteen years after the death of 
 Alexander. He received the name of Soter on 
 account of the assistance rendered to the 
 Rhodians, built a Pharos in the dangerous 
 bay of Alexandria ; and established a society 
 called Museum, the members of which being
 
 THE FRIGHT. 277 
 
 kept at the people's expence, employed their 
 time in the advancement of philosophy, science, 
 and the liberal arts. He >vrote the History 
 of Alexander the Great, ^Yhich was much 
 admired at the time for its elegance, and 
 authority, and laid the foundation of the 
 famous library, "vvhich was increased to the 
 number of two hundred thousand volumes of 
 the choicest works by his son Ptolemy Phila- 
 delphus, who — " 
 
 Here what had before been only a half sup- 
 pressed titter, became a loud and almost univer- 
 sal laugh, whilst the abashed youth feeling him- 
 self the object of all this mirth, though without 
 exactly comprehending why, broke ofFabrupth^, 
 flushing scarlet to the roots of his hair, and the 
 tips of his lingers. 
 
 ^* Very edifying indeed young man ! 3'ou 
 repeat your lesson admirably. Pray give us 
 another page from Lempriere — let us have the 
 whole true and particular account of all the 
 thirteen Ptolemies up to the beautiful Clcopatra,^^
 
 278 THE FKIGHT. 
 
 remarked Mr. Rolleston with that cold, sarcastic 
 tone, which even the most practiced man of 
 the world could never hear unmoved. 
 
 " In pity spare us ! We have had two : — 
 
 ** A third alas I were more than we could bear,*' 
 
 exclaimed Stephen Bradley. 
 
 *^ Hear ! hear ! hear I Hear ! hear ! hear \" 
 shouted his brother Henry in such a ludicrous 
 voic*, that the bursts of laughter were renewed ; 
 the provoked father, and the simple minded 
 Grace, who admired the youth's learning, being 
 the only parties who did not swell the general 
 mirth, 
 
 " 1 can see nothing to laugh at ladies 
 and gentlemen in a son complying with the 
 wish of a parent, and supplying that informa- 
 tion, which had escaped the faihng memory of 
 age,'' began Mr. Dudley ; but fresh brusts of 
 laughter at his formal address drowned the 
 conclusion of his prosy speech. 
 
 We must all have seen that the merriment of
 
 THE FRIGHT. 279 
 
 a large party once excited cannot be hushed on 
 the instant, but breaks forth again^ and again, 
 re-awakened, renewed by the veriest trifles, par- 
 ticularly when one or more of the laughers 
 have a mahcious pleasure in annoying the object 
 of their mirth; and thus it was on thi& 
 occasion. 
 
 When the merriment was dying away, a look 
 or word from the young Bradleys, or Mr, 
 RoUeston, whose cynical laugh was peculiarly 
 galling, gave it fresh life and vigour ; and this 
 lasted for several minutes, during which time 
 the learned father looked proud and flushed, 
 whilst the shy son, overwhelmed with confusion, 
 sat with cheeks as red as cheeks could be, 
 ready to creep into a nutshell if any friend 
 would have provided one for the attempt ; 
 unpitied by all but poor Grace whose counte- 
 nance showed the deepest sjonpathy. She 
 could feel for the shy and the awkward when 
 laughed at ; and the Dudley's saw that she could. 
 
 "I really beg your pardon, Mr. Dudley,'^
 
 2S0 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 said the kind hearted Bradley, striving in vain 
 to speak with perfect gravity. ^^ Your son is 
 a very clever young man with a wonderful 
 memory ; and we are all much obliged for 
 the information he gave us ; but it was so 
 strange, so unusual, his going on without 
 stopping ; — in short so like a school lesson, that 
 when I thought he intended giving us all the 
 Ptolemies, I could not help laughing a little ; 
 though it was certainly very rude.^^ 
 
 ^^Pray make no apology; you were much 
 less to blame than others,^^ replied Mr. Dudley 
 with great stiffness, glancing at Mr. Rolleston 
 and the young Bradley s. ^^ We had better say 
 no more about it. Perhaps Miss Tre\yllian, if 
 not too much exhausted by her late mirth, will 
 with her voice attune our souls to harmony .^^ 
 
 '^ With pleasure," said Julia half ashamed 
 of having laughed at her kind admirer^ and not 
 wishing to afford her cousin a farther triumph. 
 
 She not only sang but sang her best ; all her 
 hearers were delighted^ and the Dudleys
 
 THE FRIGHT. 281 
 
 forgave her mirth^ though the son retained his 
 seat instead of following her to the piano as he 
 had done the preceding night. But Ernest's 
 woes and embarrassments were not yet 
 ended. 
 
 '' Oh ! my violet, I have lost my sweet 
 violet, that blew at this cold season on purpose 
 to please me. Do look for it, cousins !" cried 
 Julia, shaking her dress to be sure that it was 
 not there. 
 
 Henry and Stephen looked to the right and 
 left and all around in vain ; but Ernest saw it 
 at his feet where it had probably fallen as its 
 owner rose to go to the piano. Shyness and 
 vexation prompted him to leave it where it 
 was ; but his natural kindness conquered, 
 and he presented Julia with the lost flower. 
 
 Her thanks were conveyed in her sweetest 
 tones ; but Ernest could not quite forget her 
 laughter, and received those thanks with 
 coldness. 
 
 As he stooped for the violet a paper fell
 
 282 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 from his bosom^ which was seized and read, 
 unknown to him, by Stephen, without any 
 scruple of conscience. 
 
 " Silence, ladies and gentlemen !'* he ex- 
 claimed after its perusal. ^^ Here is a poetical 
 effusion worthy of Horace or Virgil in the 
 olden times — Byron or Scott in the modern ; 
 to say nothing of Milton and others,'^ 
 
 " Read ! Read ! cried several, Mr. RoUeston 
 among the rest, and Ernest, not recognising 
 his paper, made no objection. 
 
 " I will do my best ladies and gentlemen in 
 compliance with your wishes ; but should the 
 lines appear ridiculous, I must pray you to lay 
 the blame on the deficiences of the poor 
 reader," said Stephen beginning in a most 
 ludicrously sentimental tone.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 283 
 
 THE VIOLET. 
 
 ** Strange that this fragile flow'r should dare 
 
 Stem winter's chill, and blighting air ? 
 
 " Ah no ! not strange ! — it caught the beam 
 
 From beauty's eye — deemed it the gleam 
 
 Of April sun, and forth it burst 
 
 Of Spring's fair flowr's, the sweetest— first. 
 
 " Encore ! Encore !" shouted Henry Brad- 
 ley, guessing the truth from the author's 
 embarrassment. 
 
 " Yes, pray read it again ; those lines are 
 the production of real genius/' remarked Mr. 
 Rolleston. — 
 
 " ^ Stern -winter's chill and blighting air !^ 
 — so very original ! 
 
 " ^ Ah, no — not strange !' — How subhme, 
 and poetical ! 
 
 " ^ It caught the beam of beauty's eye I' — 
 some youthful, very youthful poet, just touch- 
 ed by Cupid's dart. 
 
 *' ^ Deemed it the gleam of April's sun' — so
 
 284 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 striking and natural ! awakening such beautiful 
 visions of smiles and tears. 
 
 '^ ^ And forth it burst !' — popped out of the 
 ground at once as the lady bent over the 
 damp earth just like a Jack in the box. Who 
 is the author, Mr. Stephen Bradley ? I must 
 become acquainted with him." 
 
 ^' What a capital criticism '/' said Henry 
 triumphing in his rival's tortures, w^ho stood 
 with changing cheek and downcast eyes uncon- 
 sciously twiddUng his fingers." You beat the 
 Quarterly all to nothing. Should I turn poet, 
 I shall take great care never to let you see my 
 poems, lest you should cut me up in the same 
 style." 
 
 " Be under no alarm on that point I never — 
 ' break a butterfly upon a wheel,^ " replied 
 Mr. Rolleston, who, whatever might be his 
 fancy for annoying the Dudleys, had no in- 
 tention of joining in a cabal with his young 
 cousins, whose slang and familiar manners 
 displeased him.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 285 
 
 Henry tried to laugh at the rejoinder of the 
 old fellow, as he termed him behind his back^ 
 but his laugh was discordant. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss Trcvyllian ; I see 
 the lines are addressed to you/^ cried Stephen 
 Bradley, pretending now for the first time to 
 observe the superscription. " And the initials 
 are E. D. Whose can they be ?" he continued, 
 handing the paper to Julia. 
 
 " Ernest Dudley, to be sure ;^^ cried Harriet 
 with a laugh at her own sagacity, which proved 
 that she had not that very great objection to 
 laughing, which she had asserted the evening 
 before. 
 
 All eyes were directed towards the unhappy 
 author, who had been enduring martyrdom 
 for the last ten minutes ; — yes absolute martyr- 
 dom, let plain prose people object as they may 
 to the word. Think of the horror of a poet ; 
 a shy, awkward youth between man and boy, 
 brought up in seclusion, having his first lines 
 to his first love, or fancied love, read aloud to
 
 286 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 a mocking audience, in the most ludicrous 
 lack-a-daisical style; criticised by the most 
 cynical and unmerciful of critics ; all present 
 looking at him, and, with the exception of his 
 own father, and a despised child all laughing 
 at him ; and this in the presence of the beauty 
 for whom he had strung his maiden lyre. Talk 
 of the tortures inflicted by the Indians on 
 Hunter and others ! they were nothing to 
 Ernest Dudley^s sufferings. What were larding 
 and roasting to such mockery and criticism? 
 
 " I am sorry for having detained the lines so 
 long from their rightful owner,'^ continued 
 Stephen to Julia, '^^ and delayed your thanks 
 to the accomplished author, who is waiting for 
 your praises, looking down as if he too, like 
 the violet, required the beam from beauty^s 
 eye to call him into life." 
 
 The poor poet's awkw^ard attitude — the 
 twiddling of his fingers— his crimson cheeks — 
 the idea of his resemblance to a violet, were 
 too much for Julia's politeness, and the sensi-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 28? 
 
 tive Ernest could plainly distinguish her mu- 
 sical laugh among those of his tormentors. 
 Flattered vanity, if no better feeling, might 
 have induced Julia to check her mirth, and de- 
 fend her poet, had that poet been a person of 
 consideration ; but she had been too long ac- 
 customed to the homage of those counted 
 among the great ones of the earth, not to feel 
 less elated by the devotion of a raw, country 
 youth, than amused at his awkward attempts 
 to express it. Nor was she one iota more de- 
 lighted with the homage of her cousins, whom 
 she regarded as two Eton boys by no means 
 good specimens of their class, being neither 
 gesntlemanly nor amiable ; but the rivalry of 
 the three entertained her; and it suited her 
 pleasure, having nothing better to do, to encou- 
 rage it; and thus, still thinking only of her 
 own amusement, she joined in the laugh 
 against the youthful poet, till checked by an 
 appealing look and whisper from the pitying 
 Grace.
 
 288 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ^^ I pray you to be grave^ good people, and 
 not laugh at lines addressed to me, which are 
 really very pretty/^ said Julia, tiying to re- 
 sume her gravity. " I feel much flattered by 
 Mr. Dudley's verses, and we ought all to 
 apologise for our unseemly merriment, which 
 was occasioned by Stephen's ludicrous style of 
 reading ; and once seized w'ith a laughing fit 
 there is no stopping oneself; unluckily, a 
 w^ord, a look will set one off again." 
 
 " As the lines were not presented by me, 
 but obtained I know not how by another, it is 
 neither requisite. Miss IVevyllian, that you 
 should apologise for your merriment, nor I for 
 my presumption in having ventured to address 
 you," replied Ernest proudly, far more indig- 
 nant at her careless manner now^, and her for- 
 mer disregard of his feelings, than at the con- 
 duct of any of the rest of the party. 
 
 " Then the blame all rests with me for 
 having given to the public what was meant for 
 one dear eye alone," observed Stephen Bradley.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 289 
 
 <e 
 
 Accept of my most humble apologles^Mr. 
 Ernest Dudley ; and believe that had I been 
 informed who was the author of those beauti- 
 ful lines, I should have — " 
 
 '^ Done exactly as you did/' said Ernest 
 closing the sentence^ his indignation conquer- 
 ing his timidity. 
 
 " Permit me to congratulate Mr. Ernest 
 Dudley on exhibiting equal talents as a poet 
 and historian/* remarked Mr. RoUeston^ with 
 that peculiar curling of the lip which was so 
 annoying. 
 
 " You \vould say^ sir^ that I have show'n 
 folly in both, nor will I dispute the truth of 
 your statement; but better folly than that 
 perversity of heart which can find pleasure in 
 inflicting pain on others/^ replied Ernest 
 boldly, meeting Mr. Rolleston's eye from which 
 so many shrank, ere turning away to a distant 
 table he took up a newspaper. 
 
 A short silence followed this just rebuke ; 
 then the young ladies and gentlemen resumed 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 290 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 their flirting, whilst the kind hearted Bradley 
 crossed the room for the purpose of conversing 
 with Ernest, vexed with himself for not having 
 interfered in his behalf. 
 
 Mr. Dudley had fortunately been too deeply 
 engaged in the renewed discussion with his 
 antiquarian neighbour, touching the learning 
 of the ancients, to comprehend that his son 
 had again become the subject of ridicule, and 
 consequently did not increase that ridicule by 
 any injudicious remarks ; and Mr. Rolleston 
 either struck with Ernest's rebuke, or thinking 
 that he had been more than sufficiently morti- 
 fied, took no further notice of his presence ; 
 but challenged Mr. Gunning to a game of 
 chess, aware that he piqued himself on being a 
 first rate player. 
 
 The challenge was accepted — Mr. Gunning 
 won the first advance ; but before the com- 
 pletion of a dozen moves, to his great sur- 
 prise and greater vexation, he was check mated. 
 
 '^ I. shall certainly leave Elmwood Lodge to-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 291 
 
 morrow/' said Mr. Gunning to himself, as he 
 turned awjiy from his triumphant conqueror. 
 
 And Mr. Gunning did leave Elmwood Lodge 
 on the morrow, notwithstanding JuUa's en- 
 treaties, declaring that he did not feel quite at 
 ease till he had passed a mile beyond the park ; 
 and yet Mr. RoUeston had made a very grace- 
 ful bow at parting, expressing a hope that he 
 would have a pleasant journey, and adding — 
 ^' If at any time you pass near Rolleston 
 Court I shall expect to see you.^' 
 
 " He may expect me long enough," thought 
 Mr. Gunnins:. " I cannot tell what there is 
 in that man ; but I would as soon be in com- 
 pany with an executioner, and his civility, I do 
 not know whether it is not worse than his 
 rudeness ; there is such a peculiar curl about 
 his Up when he plays polite ; yet I thought 
 him pleasant the first day." 
 
 " I am glad they are gone,^' thought Mrs. 
 Bradlev. " I am sure both husband and wife 
 are cunning worldly people, who have always 
 o 2
 
 292 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 both eyes open to their own interests, though 
 he talks so much of generosity and charity ; 
 and she would have one believe her the most 
 delicate invalid in the world, who cannot put 
 two and two together. It is quite as well too 
 that Julia should depart ; she has half turned 
 my boys^ heads with her beauty and her style ! 
 — her impertinent assumption of superiority I 
 should call it ; for it was evident to me that 
 she was amusing herself with their attentions, 
 not exactly flirting, as Harriet and Eliza flirt, 
 but laughing with them, or at them, just as 
 it pleased her. She looks for a great match 
 as well as her aunt. There was one thing, 
 however, that I was happy to see, Mr. Rolles- 
 ton scarcely shook hands with her at parting, 
 though I thought at first he was going to 
 make her one of his civil speeches ; he might 
 have been struck by her tears. I should not 
 have suspected her of really caring so much 
 for that stupid, frightful Grace, though she 
 would keep her by her side. Nor has Mr.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 293 
 
 Rolleston once spoken to Grace^ so that my 
 husband^ to whom he seems more civil than 
 any one else, niay be his heir, though my 
 children, notwithstanding my wishes, do not 
 dare to address him." 
 
 " She is gone ! — and there is no one to love 
 and protect me now ! She is gone !' mur- 
 mured poor Grace, turning away from the 
 window whence she had watched the last wave 
 of Julia's hand. " She is gone 1" and her 
 tears burst forth with a passionate gush at the 
 mournful words, and the conviction that she 
 was now indeed alone ! 
 
 About two hours later as Messrs. Dudley, 
 Rolleston, and Bradley, were returning from 
 an inspection of the farm, their attention was 
 attracted by voices in dispute ; and as they 
 turned an angle in the shrubbery walk the 
 subject of dispute became apparent. It was a 
 pretty sunny spot, one of Grace's favourite 
 haunts ; and thither had she taken her old 
 pet Frolic, thinking that though too ill to
 
 294 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 walk, he might still enjoy for a few minutes 
 the fresh healthy air, and a bask in the sun ; 
 which was warm for the season. 
 
 She had brought him carefully covered up 
 in a basket ; but at the moment when the 
 gentlemen appeared in sight, she was holding 
 him in her arms, as if fearful of his being torn 
 from her protection, standing before her 
 cousins Henry and Stephen with an erect 
 figure, and determined air, forming a striking 
 contrast to her usual fearful, crouching atti- 
 tude ; whilst her large, dark, hazel eyes, whose 
 colour was almost unknown, they were so 
 seldom raised, were flashing on them with 
 mingled command and intreaty. She was no 
 longer timid and frightened 5 affection had 
 made her bold and fearless. 
 
 ^^ It is of no use arguing the point, Grace ; 
 my mother says she will not have the trouble- 
 some sick creature about the house any longer, 
 and has ordered us to kill it — so it must be 
 done.^^
 
 THE FRIGHT. 295 
 
 " It shall not be done^ Heniy !'' cried Grace 
 \vith passionate energy. 
 
 " This is nonsense, Grace. If you had not 
 been so silly as to bring the animal out here, it 
 would have been done quietly, and you would 
 have known nothing about it. I am really 
 sorr}^, since you seem so fond of the dog; I 
 thought before it had been only pretence, or 
 just out of opposition ; but there is no help for 
 it, such being my mothei'^s orders,^^ replied 
 Henry with more kindness, not quite un- 
 touched by his cousin^s grief. 
 
 ^' It will be a mercy to put the creature out 
 of its miserv ; much better kill it at once than 
 let it linger on in pain, a useless expence,^^ 
 remarked the more wily Stephen, 
 
 '' Frolic is in no pain, and shall not die,^^ she 
 answered ! " For the expence — I have money 
 — gold ; — and will give you all I have ; but do 
 not kill the only living thing that loves me in 
 this house.^^ 
 
 " My mother will neither take the money.
 
 296 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 which you coaxed from my father^ nor give ii}) 
 her pui'pose ; so there is no use saying more 
 about it/^ repUed Stephen. 
 
 '^ But Mr. Bradley — does Mr. Bradley know 
 it? He promised that no one should hurt 
 Frolic or take him from me/' cried the trem- 
 bhng girl, her fears increasing for her favourite. 
 
 ^f Do you suppose my mother would order 
 this without his consent? You think you can 
 wheedle my father out of any thing/' replied 
 Stephen with a sneer, seeing that Henry was 
 inclined to yield. ^'^Give up the animal without 
 any more fuss, or we must take him by force ; 
 he shall be shot or drowned just as you please ; 
 and we will put him out of his misery as soon 
 
 as we can." 
 
 '^ Then you may shoot and drown me too, for 
 I will not be parted from him," exclaimed the 
 affrighted girl, with a still more passionate 
 and determined tone, holding her favourite 
 iirmly, whilst her dark eyes flashed defiance on 
 her persecutors.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 297 
 
 ^^Then we must take him by force as I 
 hinted/^ said Stephen advancing a step. 
 
 "Not whilst I have strength to prevent it !" 
 exclaimed Ernest Dudley, stepping forward in 
 answer to Grace's scream, from behind a shrub, 
 having been an unobserved spectator of the 
 foregoing scene. " Shame on you both thus to 
 torture one whose helplessness claims protec- 
 tion — whose devoted affection demands respect 
 and admiration.'^ 
 
 '^ How dare you to interfere ?" questioned" 
 Henry Bradley fiercely, regarding his late rival 
 with no friendly fechng, Julia's morning fare- 
 well having been, in his opinion, more than 
 sufficiently flattering to atone for her evening's 
 merriment. " I might have yielded before ; 
 ])ut now it shall be done." 
 
 "Attempt it at your peril, though two to 
 one," exclaimed Ernest with equal wannth, the 
 insults of the preceding day quickening his 
 indignation. 
 
 Placing himself so as to protect Grace^ and 
 o 5
 
 298 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 her favourite^ he prepared for the combat — his 
 first combat^ for he had received no Eton 
 education ; and Henry and Stephen were 
 springing forward to the attack, when suddenly- 
 arrested by Mr. Bradley^s authoritative tone, 
 " Stop boys ! I command you !" 
 
 The young men turned at his words, and their 
 flushed cheeks flushed deeper still as they met 
 his eyes. 
 
 ^^ 1 beg your pardon, sir, for opposing your 
 sons, who I could not believe were acting in 
 accordance with your wishes/^ began young 
 Dudley. 
 
 '' Make no apology ; you only did what I 
 should have done had I been in your place ; 
 and I am obliged to you for having so 
 acted. As for you,^^ looking at his sons, who 
 shrunk from his glance, '^ 1 am ashamed of you 
 both. You know my wishes with regard to 
 Frolic, and if your mother really gave such an 
 order as you pretend, you should have applied 
 to me upon the subject, instead of behaving so
 
 THE FRIGHT. 299 
 
 cruelly towards Grace, and fighting your guest 
 for defending her ; two to one too ! I am 
 ashamed to think that sons of mine could so 
 demean themselves ! Away from my presence ! 
 Grace trembles at the sight of you, as well she 
 may ; and remember that before you sit down 
 again at the same table with me, you make 
 ample apologies to her and Ernest Dudley. 
 Not a word — away with you ! I heard all that 
 passed, and nothing can be said in your 
 defence. ^^ 
 
 His sons, convinced from his manner that he 
 was in one of those resolute moods when he 
 woidd be obeyed, turned tov.ards the house 
 their hearts full of shame and anger. 
 
 " Poor child ! you were right in supposing 
 that 1 should not sanction such cruelty ; and I 
 love and admire the boldness you show^ed in 
 defence of your favourite. I did not think you 
 had so much spirit. How is the old fellow ?'^ 
 said Mr. Bradley approaching Grace, who still
 
 300 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 held the dog in her arms, though not with her 
 former nervous pressure. 
 
 " He is asleep now ;-^ she replied laying him 
 gently in the basket, which Ernest held ready 
 to receive him. 
 
 ^^ Asleep V' observed Mr. Bradley in a tone 
 that startled his little cousin. 
 
 ^^ Frolic ! deal' Frolic V' she exclaimed bend- 
 ing over him. 
 
 The poor, old dog obedient to the last, 
 opened his eyes — half raised himself to lick her 
 hand |- — and then sank down with a faint moan. 
 — For some moments no one spoke. 
 
 '' I will take him into the house again it is 
 getting cold now,^^ said Grace, alarmed she 
 knew not why at the silence. ^^ Will you tell 
 me what to give him?^^ she continued looking 
 up in Mr. Bradley's face. 
 
 " It is of no use, dear Grace,'^ he replied 
 turning away. 
 
 ^^ He is not dead — I am sure he is not dead^^
 
 THE FRIGHT. 301 
 
 — she exclaimed^ as if hoping by the vehemence 
 of her assertion to satisfy herself; bending over 
 the dog, and calUng on him to look up. 
 
 " It is all over, my good little girly'^ remarked 
 the elder Dudley with a manner so kind^ as in 
 some degree to lessen the shock. 
 
 Grace put her hand to the heart — it had 
 ceased to beat ; — raised the paw, which fell 
 nerveless from her touch ; — and then convinced 
 of the painful truth, burst into a passion of 
 tears. 
 
 " Dead ! dead ! and I wish I were dead too, 
 for there is no living thing left now to love or 
 care for me :- — Julia and Frolic are both 
 gone V 
 
 '^ Hush, hush, Gracey ! it is wicked and un- 
 grateful to say this ; yes, and false too, for I 
 love and care for you,^' said Mr. Bradley, presr 
 sing her hand kindly within his. 
 
 " I hope it is not wicked ; and I would not 
 be ungrateful to you, who are always kind.;
 
 302 THE FRIGIir. 
 
 but there is no one else who cares for me," 
 sobbed Grace. 
 
 " I will send you another dog," said Ernest, 
 quickly. 
 
 ^^ You shall have the choice of three," added 
 his father. 
 
 " You shall have half a dozen, and no one 
 shall touch them ; or any thing else you like, 
 if you will but cease sobbing," said Mr. Brad- 
 ley for all were touched with her grief, and the 
 way in w^hich she had spoken of her desola- 
 tion. 
 
 '^ You are all kind — very kind ; but I will 
 never love another dog, for dear old Frolic^s 
 sake,^^ faltered poor Grace, striving to check 
 her sobs. 
 
 " But you will want something to play with," 
 said Mr. Bradley. 
 
 '^ I shall never play any more," she replied 
 shaking her head sadly, ^^ Julia is gone ! and 
 Frolic is gone 5 and I have no one to play with ;
 
 THE FRIGHT. 303 
 
 and I do not want to play with any one else^ 
 I shall never love any dog again^ as I loved 
 dear old Frolic, for he was mamma's pet ; and 
 when I looked at him I thought of her and 
 papa and Julia ; — or if I did some one would 
 kill it when I was not by/' 
 
 ^' Then what shall I do for you ? I cannot 
 bear to hear you sob so/' said Mr. Bradley. 
 
 His little cousin was silent for some moments^ 
 listening as it seemed to the kind persuasions 
 of young Dudley, who pointed out with gentle 
 earnestness the impropriety of such vehement 
 grief, reminding her that he had given her no 
 hope of her favourite's hfe the day before ; then 
 looking up in Mr. Bradley's face she spoke 
 abruptly : 
 
 '" There is one thing you can do ; and I will 
 try not to cry any more. They always said 
 w hen poor Frolic died that his skin should be 
 sold, and the wild cats eat his flesh. Will you 
 help me to bury him, and let no one touch 
 him ?"
 
 304 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " To be sure^ Gracey ! to be sure ! only do 
 not shudder, and look so wildly. Who could 
 have frightened you with such horrid tales? 
 Tell me that 1 may punish them/^ 
 
 " I want no one punished : — only do not 
 let them do it. I do think 1 should go mad if 
 they did, as I have sometimes thought I 
 should.'^ 
 
 '' Come, come, Gracey dear ! you must not 
 talk in this way ; you do not know w hat you 
 are saying," replied Mr. Bradley, beginning to 
 feel that his guardianship had not been as 
 zealous and vigilant as it should have been, 
 considering the specimens he had sometimes 
 seen of the temper of his lady and children 
 towards the helpless girl. ^^ You shall choose 
 the spot for his grave yourself, the under gar- 
 dener shall dig it deep — a. stone shall be placed 
 above it ; and I will engage that none shall 
 disturb it. I will speak to Thomas about it 
 directly."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 305 
 
 ^^ Oh 110^ not yet ! perhaps he is not really 
 dead/ 
 
 "Well some hours hence; just when you 
 please/' 
 
 " You were wishing yesterday for a likeness 
 of Frolic ; I will try what I can do for you/* 
 said Ernest kindly. 
 
 " Ay, do V' said his father, ^^ and I will write 
 the letters of which I spoke, that you may have 
 more time.'' 
 
 " Thank you P' exclaimed the grateful Grace, 
 glancing from one to the other ; " I did not 
 know 1 had such kind friends." 
 
 " You deserve them for your courage and 
 affection,'' observed Ernest warmly. ^^ In 
 return, you must promise not to cry, and 
 mope ; but try to be cheerful." 
 
 " I will try, indeed I will ; perhaps it was 
 wicked to love poor Frolic as I did, but I had 
 no one else to love, papa and mamma, and Julia 
 all away ; and he seemed a part of them," 
 said the lonely girl, endeavouring to check the
 
 306 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 tears that again rushed unbidden into her eyes, 
 as she bent above her favourite. 
 
 The spot was chosen for the grave — poor 
 old Frolic was taken into Mr. Bradley's study 
 that Ernest might the more conveniently fulfil 
 his promise ; and Grace forgot half her sorrow 
 in her gratitude, whilst watching the progress 
 of the sketch, which proved an admirable like- 
 ness. A coloured chalk was required to give a 
 tinge of tan about the mouth, and Grace went 
 to the library to fetch it. So intent was she 
 on her errand that she had procured the chalk, 
 and was leaving the room, before she disco- 
 vered that Mr. Rolleston was seated at the 
 further end. She knew that he had been pre- 
 sent at Frolic's death, but as he had not 
 spoken, and she had never looked towards 
 him, she could not possibly guess what had 
 been his feelings on that occasion. 
 
 '^ Bring me a footstool, Grace ; I have hurt 
 my foot ! said Mr. Rolleston addressing his 
 little, great-niece for the first time since his
 
 THE FRIGHT. 307 
 
 arrival at Elmwood Lodge ; and that in a less 
 awful tone than usual. 
 
 Though startled at his request^ Grace 
 brought the footstool, placed it before him ; 
 and on his complaining that it was not com- 
 fortable, went of her own accord and brought 
 him an easy comfort, expressing a hope that he 
 was not in much pain, her pity for the moment 
 overcoming her awe. 
 
 ^^ Not much ; a ricked ankle — that is all ; 
 but you are a capital little nurse, Grace. 
 What say you to going back with me to Rol- 
 leston Court in that capacity ?'* 
 
 His tone w^as so gentle that she glanced up 
 in his face to ascertain if the words could have 
 really proceeded from his lips; but a frown 
 gathered on his brow as he marked her look of 
 wonder, and she turned away in silence, trem- 
 bling at the thought of a residence beneath 
 the roof of her father's awful uncle, whom 
 every body feared. 
 
 " I understand your silence, and that pallid
 
 308 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 cheek_, — ^ Go away ! you are a bad^ wicked man 
 to make mamma and Julia cry/ — " 1 have not 
 forgotten your w^ords you find. Away with 
 you, girl ! out of my sight ! you, like your 
 father, may rue the day you thwarted me/' 
 exclaimed Mr. Rolleston in a voice of thunder. 
 
 And away went the terrified Grace, as fast 
 as her trembling limbs could bear her, not 
 feeling safe till she was reseated by the side 
 of Ernest Dudley. 
 
 The sketch was completed — poor Frolic laid 
 in his grave ; — and the large stone placed over 
 it, just as the bell rang for dressing. 
 
 '^ Are you really going early to-morrow ?'* 
 asked Grace Trevyllian in a sad, and timid 
 voice, as she walked between Mr. Dudley and 
 his son towards the house. 
 
 " Yes !'^ replied Ernest. 
 
 " Then I shall not see you again, for Mrs. 
 Bradley told me just now that I was not fit 
 to be seen with such red eyes, and sliould not 
 come into the dra^\ing-room this evening; and
 
 THE FRIGHT. 309 
 
 I do not ^Yish to be there now that dear Julia 
 is gone. So good bye ! I shall never forget 
 how very kind you have both been to me/' she 
 said half holding out a hand to each, which 
 was kindly pressed by both, for Mr. Dudley 
 under a cold and formal exterior, had a warm 
 and generous heart. 
 
 " Good bye 1'* said Ernest. ^^ You are a 
 kind, good little creature ; and I wish you had 
 a happier home. Remember you have pro- 
 mised not to fret, but to keep as gay as you 
 can, and if I can serve you at any time you 
 must look on me as a brother, and claim my 
 aid." 
 
 ^' Thank you \" faltered Grace pressing the 
 hand that still held hers ; and then running 
 away to hide the emotion which threatened to 
 choke her. 
 
 '• I am glad to see, Ernest, that you can 
 show kindness to a child, without caring for 
 ridicule," observed Mr. Dudley to his son, 
 when Grace was out of sight.
 
 310 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 " I fear I do not bear ridicule as philoso- 
 phically as you suppose, sir f replied Ernest 
 with an ingenuous blush. " 1 must have been 
 a savage not to feel for that poor child, who 
 has one of the warmest and most affectionate 
 of hearts ; — nor is she a dunce as they assert ; 
 her information though desultory, from having 
 no one to direct her studies, is extraordinary, 
 and her powers of understanding and appreci- 
 ating the books which she has read, singularly 
 great in one so young.' ^ 
 
 " I suspected as much, though she said but 
 little in my presence. If your mother were 
 less of an invalid I should be tempted to 
 engage her interest in the child's behalf. The 
 tone in which she said — I have nothing to love 
 now — cannot be soon forgotten, it so com- 
 pletely spoke the desolation of a warm, young 
 heart, whose best affections had been chilled, 
 by harshness or neglect. 1 knew something 
 of this in my own young days, for 1 was only
 
 THE FRIGHT. 311 
 
 a step son ; and that threw me upon study, 
 making me what some consider cold.'^ 
 
 " Your wife and son do not think you cold/' 
 said Ernest with a quivering lip, pressing his 
 hand, 
 
 " I hope not, Ernest ; 1 have tried to save 
 you from this suffering, but I begin to fear 
 that I have lived too much to myself, bringing 
 you up in greater seclusion than was needful 
 or prudent, because I am unsocial myself; we 
 must amend this. But that poor child ! I 
 cannot get her out of my head ; she would 
 make a noble woman, if properly trained; 
 timid and awkward from neglect and harsh- 
 ness, yet so bold and devoted in defence of 
 the object of her affection. I really believe 
 she would have been torn to pieces rather than 
 give up her favourite, I never saw such an eye 
 in my life ; and wonder those boys did not 
 shrink abashed from her indignant glance, 
 yet this very warmth and strength of affection 
 may work her woe ; through that affection
 
 312 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 may she receive the death wound to her peace. 
 Poor child ! she is much to be pitied." 
 
 " She is indeed, sir. So grateful for one 
 little service ; the excess of her gratitude prov- 
 ing her unused to kindness.'* 
 
 The Dudleys departed in the morning, as 
 they had proposed, to the great delight of the 
 young Bradleys, whose dislike to Ernest was 
 increased from finding themselves compelled to 
 apologise to him and Grace for their late 
 violence ; not being upheld by their mother, 
 who wished it to appear that they had mis- 
 taken wishes for orders. 
 
 Mr. Rolleston left Elmwood Lodge soon 
 after without naming Grace, who kept out of 
 his sight; and without asking any of the 
 Bradleys to pay him a visit, as his fair hostess 
 had hoped and expected.
 
 THE FRIGHT. 313 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ^^ All gone now !" were the words that rose 
 to Grace's lips ; — " all gone now l'^ — was the 
 thought that weighed on Grace's hearty as she 
 sat on the succeeding day near Frolic's grave. 
 
 Mr. Bradley had insisted on her having a 
 week's holyday, and had still more strongly in- 
 sisted on her not being taunted^ threatened^ or 
 treated harshly by any member of his house- 
 hold ; he had made her presents — he had called 
 her to sit beside him ; — but he could not renew 
 the spirits that had been broken — the hopes 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 314 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 that had been crushed ; — he could not awaken 
 a feeling of kindness or sympathy for her lonely 
 state in any one of his family, though he could 
 protect her from open harshness : — he could 
 not even always prevent the bitter sneer, the 
 contemptuous look— the more than hinted re- 
 proach, when he was absent ; thus Grace stood 
 almost as much alone as before, the only sunny 
 spot in the wintry waste around, the certainty 
 that Mr. Bradley would protect her to the ut- 
 most of his power. But that power was not 
 omnipotent ; he w^as frequently absent, and 
 when at home, though his heart was all kind- 
 ness, he was ill-fitted to soothe and cheer a 
 keenly sensitive girl of strong imagination, who, 
 di'iven by sneers to solitude and lonely study, 
 took little part or pleasure in the realities of 
 life, having earnestly striven to forget them, 
 so painfully had those realities pressed on her 
 youthful spirit. 
 
 Miss Hey wood was not a pleasing teacher, 
 and her intructions were always ^^ dull, and often
 
 THE FRIGHT. 315 
 
 stale and unprofitable/" but it is doubtful if 
 the week's holyday insisted on by Mr. Brad- 
 ley were to the advantage of his little protegee. 
 Mahomet made happiness to consist in occupa- 
 tion, and to a certain extent, all who have 
 suffered and entered closely into the cause of 
 their suffering, will, 1 tliink, agree wdth him. 
 The x\rabian Ruler knew much that was in the 
 heart of man ; his laws and promises are in 
 most instances admirably calculated to promote 
 the accomplishment of his views. How the 
 followers of one so energetic himself, and so 
 strong an advocate for occupation in others, 
 came to be proverbial for their general indolence 
 is one of those curious anomalies, which require 
 thought and time to explain. 
 
 Epidemics seize on the feeblest frame — the 
 gout attacks the weakest limb ; and thoughts 
 will revert to the most painful subject, and 
 dwell upon it till mind and body sink beneath 
 the torture. We may chain the limb — we may 
 bridle the tongue : — but who shall stay the 
 p 2
 
 316 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 mutiny of thought ? Prayer and resolution and 
 constant occupation are the only weapons which 
 can be employed with any hope of conquest ; 
 but the heart must have been schooled by skil- 
 ful teaching, or have suffered much, before it 
 will admit this truth. When our spirits are 
 still buoyant, though somewhat lowered — when 
 our hopes are still bright, though somewhat 
 dimmed; we dwell on our woes and talVof the 
 luxury of grief; but when sorrow upon sorrow 
 has bowed our spirits to the earth, and all its 
 buoyancy is gone — when the brightness of our 
 hopes is all departed — when our tears have all 
 been shed, and a woe has come upon us that no 
 weeping can assuage, then do we feel that grief 
 is not a luxury — that memory is not a joy ; — 
 and shrinking with a maddening brain from 
 thoughts of what has been, as the poor tortured 
 wretch still writhing in his agony shrinks from 
 a fresh infliction, we pray for power to endure ; 
 yet feeling all the anguish of endurance apply 
 to occupation which may leave us little time to
 
 THE FRIGHT. 317 
 
 remember, if it gives us not a fresh pursuit 
 on which to spend our energies, instead of 
 wasting them in grief. With too httle time 
 allowed to thought the mind becomes inconse- 
 quent and frivolous ; but with too much it 
 preys upon itself like ravening beasts that will 
 devour their kind, if not supplied with proper 
 food. Action and thought should go together ; 
 and humble fervent prayer guide each. 
 
 Grace had received little beneficial schooling 
 from others ; and though she had suffered much 
 was not old enough to know that the indul- 
 gence of grief was not a luxury, or to under- 
 stand the wisdom of occupation. She was 
 glad to be relieved from learning dull, 
 wearying lessons, and then standing before the 
 cold and unfriendly Miss Heywood to repeat 
 them ; but it would have been better for the 
 mind to have been thus occupied, than left the 
 prey of brooding and unprofitable sorrow. 
 Sometimes she would start up abruptly and 
 pass quickly along the walks trying to stop
 
 318 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 her tears and be gay as she had promised Er- 
 nest Dudley ; but wherever she went the 
 thought went with her, that she had no one to 
 love, and no one to love her. Frolic had been 
 so long connected in her mind with her happy 
 early days, with her parents, and sister, that 
 she had, unconsciously, identified him with 
 these dear relations, till he had become part 
 and portion with, or at least the representative 
 of, those whom she loved with such a strong 
 affection, and his death seemed to sever the 
 link between them. 
 
 Then Julia, the sister on whom she doted, 
 whom she had so longed to see — had come and 
 was gone ; — they might not meet again for 
 years — possibly never. And had her coming 
 brought all the joy hoped for by that loving, 
 lonely child ? No — and that was the worst of 
 all ; she felt though she could not have ex- 
 pressed the feeling in the simple, yet beautiful 
 language of the poetess : — 
 
 " Not with her own heart's lovingness, 
 Was she beloved again."
 
 THE FRIGHT. 319 
 
 She said to herself that it was unreasonable 
 to expect that Julia^ so beautiful^ so accom- 
 plished, so petted by all, should feel as she did, 
 the ugly, the stupid, the object of general 
 contempt ; bvit the saying this to herself, 
 though nothing but the plain truth, and the 
 proper prosaic way of stating the question, 
 brought little alleviation to her disappoint^ 
 ment; the very excuse only proved more 
 plainly that there was something to be 
 excused, 
 
 " And dear Julia was kind, very kind ; and 
 I am sadly ungrateful,^^ she would repeat to 
 herself; yet still the thought returned day 
 after day, let her strive to banish it as she 
 would. She felt that in her very kindness 
 there was a something unsatisfactory ; a some- 
 thing not clearly developed, yet to be guessed 
 at, which hinted that Julia's affection was not 
 sufficiently ardent or constant to satisfy one 
 so keenly sensitive as that loving and enthu- 
 siastic child ; or to stand the test of time or
 
 320 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 circumstance ; yet when this suspicion came 
 across her mind she repelled it with indigna- 
 tion^ blaming herself for the thought, and 
 kissing the turquoise ring with streaming 
 eyes. 
 
 No one interfered with her solitary watch- 
 ings; — the family, angry at having been 
 rebuked on her account, passed by with con- 
 temptuous looks. She tried to read ; but 
 unable to comprehend the words before her 
 the book was soon laid aside to indulge in 
 destroying thought, till Mr. Bradley, who had 
 left the Lodge the day but one after his 
 visitors, shocked at her looks on his return at 
 the end of a fortnight, talked of calling in 
 medical advice, though Grace asserted that 
 she was very well; but before he could 
 put his resolution into practice an event 
 occurred which changed his purpose. 
 
 As Grace was sitting in her accustomed 
 corner of the school-room, striving to learn a 
 most uninteresting list of names and dates, a
 
 THE FRIGHT. 321 
 
 message was delivered desiring her presence 
 in the saloon. Expecting only some cold 
 command from Mrs. Bradley concerning a 
 frock which had been talked of in the morning, 
 she never raised her eyes till startled from her 
 apathy by hearing a strange voice exclaim : — 
 '^ 1 hat the sister of Julia Trevyllian whom I 
 saw at Brighton !" 
 
 " You see what she is ; I warned you not 
 to be disappointed ;^^ replied All's. Bradley. 
 
 The stranger's exclamation was any thing 
 but flattering ; and Grace's sallow cheek flush- 
 ed slightly at the words ; yet the voice was so 
 soft, that she ventured to look up at the 
 speaker, a pale thin woman of a certain age, 
 clad in a plain black travelling dress ; not 
 handsome, but with a most sweet and pleasing 
 expression of countenance. 
 
 " Come to me, my dear ; I have a message 
 to deliver from your old friend Captain Raw- 
 don," said Mrs. Parker, for such was the 
 stranger's name, speaking even more kindly 
 p 5
 
 322 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 than was her wont, seeing that her sudden 
 exclamation had given pain. 
 
 " A message from dear Captain Rawdon ? 
 Oh tell me ! tell me !" exclaimed the affec- 
 tionate Grace, springing to the stranger's side 
 with an energy at ntter variance with the 
 dull, heavy step with which she had entered. 
 
 " Will you never learn, Grace, to enter a 
 room and receive visitors in a lady-like 
 manner?" said Mrs. Bradley, whilst Mrs. 
 Parker was silent for a moment from surprise 
 and admiration at the sudden chaii2:e effected 
 in her appearance by the force of feeling, and 
 the gratitude that beamed in those resplendent 
 eyes. 
 
 '^ Ah ! now you are more like my cousin 
 Rawdon's little wife, of whom he so often 
 talks," said Mrs. Parker, taking no notice 
 of the rebuke of her hostess, though it had 
 not been unremarked. 
 
 '^ Are you Captain Rawdon's cousin ?'' ques- 
 tioned Grace^ creeping closer to her, and re-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 323 
 
 garding her with confiding affection on the 
 mere assertion of her relationship. " And will 
 he come soon ? I so long to see him \" she 
 continued, whilst the tears came into her 
 eager eyes. 
 
 '^ I am Captain Rawdon's cousin ; but hav- 
 ing exchanged into another regiment I fear he 
 will not return to England for many years." 
 
 Grace turned away with a saddened look ; 
 and the tears which had rushed into her eyes 
 from anticipated joy fell from her long silken 
 lashes from disappointment. 
 
 " He has not forgotten you ; but has sent 
 his little wife a watch,'^ continued Mrs. Parker 
 presenting her with a morroco case. 
 
 " Then there is still some one who loves 
 and thinks of me/' murmured Grace uncon- 
 sciously, pressing the watch to her lips ere 
 she gave one glance at its beauty. 
 
 Fortunately the words were too low to reach 
 Mrs. Bradlev, and the entrance of some
 
 324 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 titled guests at the same moment completely 
 absorbed her attention. 
 
 " Does no one here then love you ?'^ asked 
 Mrs. Parker^ in a whisper, the child^s remark 
 confirming suspicions lately entertained by 
 Ila\Ydon, from vague reports which had reach- 
 ed his ears. 
 
 " Mr, Bradley is very kind/^ said Grace with 
 grateful warmth ; but with an involuntary 
 emphasis upon the Mr.^ and a timid glance at 
 his lady. 
 
 '^ 1 have heard much of your conservatory ; 
 — may I ask your cousin to be my cicerone ?" 
 said Mrs. Parker to her hostess. 
 
 ^^ Certainly ; though 1 am afraid there is 
 nothing worth looking nt/' replied Mrs. 
 Bradley, flattered by the request. ^^ I will 
 ring for my daughter to show it you," she 
 added ; but Mrs. Parker had already left the 
 room with Grace's hand in hers. 
 
 ^^ Tell me truly ; are you happy here ?'^ she
 
 THE FRIGHT. 325 
 
 askeel, having ascertained that no one was 
 within hearing. 
 
 ^^ Happy ! oh no, no !" cried Grace with a 
 conviUsive shudder. 
 
 '' Rawdon feared as much. Should vou Uke 
 to leave Elm wood Lodge }" 
 
 The poor girl looked up in her face with a 
 wild, eager gaze to read her purpose, as she 
 answered in a hollow whisper — ^'^ Yes.^^ 
 
 ^^ I have no husband, and no child ; Rawdon 
 was kind to both, and bade me repay that 
 kindness by my care for you. I seek in 
 foreign lands that health which neither change 
 of air nor change of scene can ever bring again ; 
 will you go with me, Grace, and stand to me 
 in the place of my lost child ? Will you regard 
 me as a mother ?'' 
 
 " May I go with you ? Will you really take 
 me ?" questioned the agitated girl, unable to 
 beheve so great a happiness, for to her grateful 
 heart Captain Rawdon's cousin appeared 
 perfection.
 
 326 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 A warm embrace removed her doubts. 
 
 Grace trembled as she waited for Mr. Brad- 
 ley^s answer when apphed to by Mrs. Parker ; 
 but that gentleman, after some little considera- 
 tion, gave his consent to the plan. Mrs. 
 Parker's character stood high for worth and 
 talent ; she was Rawdon's cousin — acted with 
 his sanction — ^had a good jointure — and under- 
 took that Grace should enjoy the advantages 
 of the best masters to be found in France and 
 Italy. Then the child was herself anxious to 
 go — was neither well nor happy at Elmwood 
 Lodge, and he feared never would be; and 
 though he had no expectation of her becoming 
 highly accomplished, judging from the reports 
 of his wife and governess, still it was as well 
 that she should have the chance. 
 
 Such were the reasons that induced Mr. 
 Bradley's consent, and his lady, though sur- 
 prised at the proposition, and a little envious 
 that the offer had not been made to one of her 
 own daughters, declined saying any thing on
 
 THE FRIG [IT. 32/ 
 
 the subject, willing to retain the right of future 
 praise or blame as things should turn out well 
 or ill. Her disHke to Grace having been 
 increased by w^hat she termed the fuss made 
 about her by Mr. Bradley, she never wished to 
 set eyes on her again; had she guessed that 
 Mr. Rolleston had offered her a home, she 
 would have been eager to send her out of the 
 kingdom. 
 
 Mrs. Parker having been ordered abroad for 
 her health, anxious that there should be no 
 unnecessary delay, oveiTuled all objections 
 about dresses, &c. ; and the next day Grace 
 TrevyUian was leaning out of the carriage, as it 
 passed through the gate of Elmwood Lodge, to 
 catch one last look of the house where she had 
 passed so many years, gazing too with a half 
 melancholy expression of countenance, though 
 she had never known one happy day within its 
 M alls ; and, except from Mr. Bradley, had re- 
 ceived no friendly word at parting. She was 
 delighted at being with Mrs. Parker, who was
 
 328 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 all kindness ; delighted too at the prospect of 
 visiting France and Italy ; and yet so strong is 
 the power of habit that she sighed as she looked 
 back upon the lawns and shrubberies^ the 
 scene of her solitary rambles, and caught a 
 glimpse of the library window the scene of her 
 solitary studies ; perhaps poor Frolic had a 
 share in that sigh, which was succeeded by a 
 smile as she pressed the hand of her companion. 
 The look — the silent pressure revealed the 
 feelings of the heart. 
 
 Do not let my readers be alarmed ; I am not 
 going to travel them over France and Italy, 
 according to Mrs. Starke, or Mrs. Anybody 
 else, in the vain hope of rivalling the beautiful 
 * Diary of an Ennuyee,^ or producing such 
 amusing, but ill naturcd caricatures of society 
 in Europe, as a disappointed, and gossipping 
 authoress has furnished of society in America. 
 On the contrary, 1 intend to prove my sense 
 and taste by abstaining from such a folly. 
 Every body has travelled ; only the nobodies
 
 THE FRIGHT. 329 
 
 have remained at home ; — and who writes 
 for the nobodies ? 
 
 Not I ; so instead of prating of Paris and 
 Geneva; Florence^ Rome^ and Naples^ to say- 
 nothing of indulging in a Uttle classical and 
 antiquarian enthusiasm concerning Pompeii, 
 either Italy^s or Bulwei''s (the last possibly the 
 most brilliant and beautiful of the two), I shall 
 take the liberty of passing over several years 
 w ith no longer notice than can be given diu-ing 
 the transit of Grace Trevy^llian, now eighteen, 
 
 from the town of B to Elm wood Lodge, a 
 
 distance not exceeding seven miles. Nay I 
 will be verj" merciful, and not even occupy 
 the whole of that time, as hating long explana- 
 tions myself, I never wiUingly, that is know- 
 ingly, inflict them upon others ; being prosy not 
 of intent, but of mere ignorance and simplicity, 
 
 Mrs. Parker^s conviction that neither change 
 of air or scene would restore the health of 
 former days was but too correct, and after 
 trying all the prescribed remedies, and bearing
 
 330 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 her sufferings with a cheerful piety which 
 hghtened her pangs^ she died in the arms of the 
 affectionate Grace whom she had loved as a 
 child ; and who had long since learnt to regard 
 her as a mother. Having no near relations her 
 last earthly cares had been for Grace to whom 
 she bequeathed all that she had to bequeath,, 
 her income dying with her ; and one of her last 
 acts had been to provide her with a fitting 
 escort back to England in the persons of Mr., 
 and Mrs. Sutton, old and valued friends, who 
 readily undertook to place Grace in safety with 
 Mr. Bradley, who was more than ready to 
 receive her beneath his roof. 
 
 Owing to various delays, it was full four 
 months after Mrs. Parker's death before Grace 
 Trevyllian landed at Dover, from whence she 
 proceeded immediately to Elmwood Lodge, 
 under the care of a confidential servant, Mr. 
 Sutton, who would otherwise have attended her, 
 being unexpectedly summoned to Ireland. 
 
 Though time, joined to the variety of foreign
 
 THE FRIGHT. 331 
 
 travel and the cheering effects of kindness, had 
 deadened the remembrance of her former 
 suffering:, Grace could not return to Elmwood 
 Lodge without some misgivings as to her future 
 comfort ; nor could she suppress a sigh as she 
 passed through the gates_, contrasting the 
 different feelings with which she had passed 
 them some four years back, holding the hand of 
 her, now resting in a foreign grave. 
 
 Sympathy from Mrs. Bradley and her 
 children she could not expect, their tastes and 
 habits w^ere so dissimilar ; but as a woman she 
 hoped to be spared those contemptuous looks 
 and galling sneers which had so crushed her 
 spirit as a child ; dull lessons and open harsh 
 rebukes were of course out of the question. Miss 
 Hej'^vood having completed Eliza's education 
 had quitted Elmwood Lodge some time before ; 
 and Mrs. Bradley however little inclined to be 
 her friend, or however unwilling to shelter an 
 almost pennyless cousin, for till she came of 
 age Grace was only to receive the interest of
 
 332 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 the six hundred pounds bequeathed by Mrs. 
 
 Parker^ could not send her supperless to bed^ 
 
 or put her in the corner as she had formerly 
 
 done; and to maintain her character for 
 
 amiability must wear the semblance of cordiality. 
 
 The boys now become men in others' eyes as 
 
 well as their own^ would find some more manly 
 
 and amusing employment than tormenting their 
 
 cousin ; Mrs. Bradley and the girls could no 
 
 longer taunt her with stupidity and suUenness^ 
 
 all the effect of their own cruel harshness, for 
 
 Grace felt a confidence in her own powers 
 
 which would protect her from these petty 
 
 annoyances; and dear kind Mr. Bradley at 
 
 least would give her a heai'ty welcome_, however 
 
 scantily his promise, that others would be glad 
 
 to see her should be fulfilled. 
 
 Yet, despite these cheering reflections, and 
 a conscious superiority, which she felt must 
 command respect, no sooner had the carriage 
 entered the gates, and her eye rested on the 
 scenes of her early woes and wrongs, than an
 
 THE FRIGHT. 333 
 
 anxious fear came creeping over hcr^ and she 
 glanced eagerly from side to side to catch 
 some object that should be a happy omen ; 
 but no such happy omen met her gaze. The 
 trees and the shrubs had grown a little daring 
 her absence, but all else was the same as when 
 she had left it, except that then the trees had 
 been leafless — now they were rich with foliage : 
 then it had been winter — now it was summer. 
 
 The half hope in which she had indulged, 
 that Mr. Bradley might be waiting near the 
 house expecting her arrival was disappointed : 
 none of the family were to be seen, and a 
 chill was struck to her warm heart as the 
 butler, who answered the bell, pronounced — ■ 
 " Not at home !'^ with a loud voice, concluding 
 that the customary question had been asked. 
 
 " Not at home !'^ repeated poor Grace, in 
 utter dismay, wondering what was to become 
 of her thus turned from her cousin's door. 
 
 " No, ma'am," said the butler respectfully, 
 appreciating the handsome style of her mourn-
 
 334 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ing. ^^ My mistress^ with the young ladies 
 and gentlemen, are all staying at Painsley, and 
 will not be back till late to-night or to-morrow ; 
 and my master was called to town on particular 
 business the day before yesterday/^ 
 
 " Then was not I expected, Watson ?" she 
 asked, turning pale at the thought. 
 
 ^^ Miss Grace was expected ma'am/' replied 
 the butler staring with surprise that the strange 
 lady should be acquainted with his name. 
 
 " I am Miss Grace," she said with a half 
 smile at her own alarm, and a still more de- 
 cided one at the butler's wonder, whose eyes 
 were opened to their widest possible extent. 
 
 " 1 beg your pardon, ma'am, I did not 
 know you," stammered Watson. If his wonder 
 had been great before, it was much increased 
 when he assisted from the carriage, not the 
 stunted, scraggy, sallow, sickly child whom he 
 had assisted in some years before ; but a grace- 
 ful girl of middle height, with a clear com- 
 plexion, a sweet and intelligent expression of
 
 THE FRIGHT. 335 
 
 countenance ; whose large dark hazel eyes with 
 their long lashes (the only good features in her 
 face) were as a tablet, or a richly illuminated 
 scroll, in which were traced a thousand pure 
 and beautiful emotions, the promptings of a 
 high, and generous spirit. 
 
 No wonder that Watson had failed to recog- 
 nise her ! — yet there were the features little 
 altered ; — but then their expression was com- 
 pletely changed. A fine climate, with the ever 
 watchful care of affection, had restored health 
 to her fading frame, buoyancy to her drooping 
 spirit ; and the conviction that she was not 
 only loved but worthy of being loved, had 
 replaced the awkwardness induced by harsh 
 rebuke and unkind neglect, by a gentle, 
 graceful ease ; a mingling of humihty and 
 confidence ; a spirited softness. Grief for 
 the death of her valued friend had something 
 checked the playful gaiety, for which she had 
 been distinguished during the latter part of 
 her stay in Italy — the playful gaiety of happi-
 
 336 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 ness; but still she was cheerful and full of 
 smiles, though her light joyous, laugh was 
 now but rarely heard. 
 
 Her smile, at Watson's non-recognition, 
 passed away as she followed him across the 
 hall. The only apartment ready for her 
 reception was the school-room, the scene of 
 her greatest misery ; and her sleeping chamber 
 was the very same which had been assigned 
 her as a child ; the little white washed room 
 with its small, miserly \Aindow, coved ceiling, 
 and uncurtained bed, whereon she had so often 
 cried herself to sleep. The affection and 
 indulgence of Mrs. Parker had been too judi- 
 cious to make splendid luxuries absolute 
 requisites to her comfort ; but she saw in this 
 symptoms of the temper which had WTought 
 the misery of her younger days. She felt 
 that though years had changed herself, they 
 had left Mrs. Bradley still the same ; and it 
 was with difficulty that she repressed her tears 
 as her eye fell on the corner where she had so
 
 THE FRIGHT. 33? 
 
 often sat poring over lessons beyond her com- 
 prehension ; shrinking from the observation 
 of Miss Heywoodj and bowing her httle face 
 upon her knees to hide her streaming eyes. 
 
 It is always melancholy to arrive on a visit, 
 and find none to give us welcome ; — to see no 
 smile — to meet no ready hand, particularly 
 after a long separation ; but this was worse. 
 Circumstances might account for the absence 
 of the family ; but the ordering these rooms 
 was a premeditated, not an accidental act. 
 The woman was doomed to endure the same 
 pangs and insults as the child ; a little modifi- 
 ed by circumstances, but not by inclination. 
 The hopes which she had been nursing into 
 warmth and brightness were chilled, destroy- 
 ed ; and she would have given W'ay to tears 
 that sprang unbidden to her eyes, had she not 
 been changed in mind yet more than person ; 
 still better schooled in real wisdom, than in 
 accomplishments and graces. 
 
 The example of Mrs. Parker's cheerful 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 338 THE FRIGHT. 
 
 resignation and sustained energy under all her 
 trials had not been lost on her affectionate 
 pupil ; and though Grace foresaw a renewal of 
 her former pangs^ for trifles to the discriminat- 
 ing are the keys of character, she resolutely 
 persisted in occupying herself with other 
 objects, instead of permitting her thoughts 
 to dwell on coming evils, till the mind weak- 
 ened, and harrassed by such vain forebodings 
 should siink beneath the load. 
 
 She tried the old piano that had stood 
 untuned for many months, till its discordant 
 notes could be endured no longer ; unpacked 
 and arranged her wardrobe as well as she 
 could in the same small chest of drawers that 
 had been hers in childhood, (a work of some 
 vexation and difficulty to one orderly in her 
 habits) eat her solitary dinner with very 
 healthful slowness, instead of sending it away 
 untouched as she would have preferred; and 
 walked through the gardens and shrubberies 
 trying to be delighted with the delicious cool-
 
 THE FRIGHT. 339 
 
 ness of the evening, instead of lingering by 
 Frolic's grave. But with all this mental 
 heroism so resolutely practised for a time, we 
 will not assert that her fortitude did not at 
 length forsake her, and that she did not cry 
 herself to sleep as she had so often done before 
 on that self same pillow.. 
 
 END OF vo^.. I,
 
 Printed by T. C. Newby, Angel Hill, Bmy.
 
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