4H m^ ^ v iwi Mi" ft^,^...VW ▼ w '#^^ ^1^,1 mmf^m^: ^M^S'Siy^k lAJTi ^i -y^-g, •'SS'WV^ rM:k:j^^mmmisy'mm^L \- ^f^l i^M" ^ i^iyJ, •li 1^ fS ^•^*?&!6p^^« -gtMgMAn^ k. ,^«l '!:■' TM f^m^^' M v w: ^' ^ '• ^./i DAUGHTERS. A NOVEL BT THE AUTHOR oF THE gambler's wife," " SYBIL LENNARD." &C. " Sigh not for Children. Thou wilt love them much ; And Care will follow Love." Barrt Cornwall. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 72, MORTIMER St., CAVENDISH S^j. 1847. i f ^3 i/^f D AUGHTE R S. CHAPTEE I. ^ *' Do you still remember J When you and I were young, i How the merry cricket talked, ^ How the throstle sung ? N How above our spring tide Azure heaven hung ? ^ Ah the times were merry times, ^ When you and I were young !" 4^ ♦ ♦ ♦ * ♦ A " Twenty years have fled we know jj Bringing care and changing weather ; But hath the heart no backward flights That we again may see those nights And laugh together ?" Barry Cornwall, r Of all the goodly sights, a military review is per- haps the most inspiring. Cold and insensible the VOL. I. B 2 DAUGHTERS. heart which swells not Avith some degree of proud and glad enthusiasm, as the eye travels over the glittering ranks of our country's sol- diery drawn up in bright array — moving in beautiful order ; — their snowy plumes waving in the breeze — sabres shining in the sun, and the soul stirring strains of the martial music sounding full and loud in the air. Then the deep stern voices of the command- ing officers — the clanking of the steel — the mighty charge — the thunder of the cannon ! Who but feels a sensation of pride — of exulta- tion, should a husband — a son — a brother be claimed amid the gallant body of men ? Such a sight, how ofttimes has it inspired the desire in a young man's heart to embrace the life of a soldier ! And in the fair bosom of many a maiden the wish to be a soldier's wife ! A September noon-day sun shone brightly nthe fine regiment of the Dragoons assem- bled near the town of for the inspection of one of our most distinguished general offi- DAUGHTERS. 3 cers ; and the usual amount of spectators was drawn together to witness the scene. Amongst the equipages lining the field of action, there were two in particular to which we would direct the attention of the readers ; having chosen the present occasion for the pur- pose of introducing to their notice the indivi- duals who are to hold a paramount place in the following simple records of every day life — the only rank of fiction to which the story about to be related can lay claim. One of these above named equipages con- tained the wife and children of the Colonel commanding the regiment. The other was solely occupied by a lady and gentleman. The two ladies thus accidentally coming in contact with each other had been schoolfellows and the dearest friends in early days — but, each launched on the sea of life — the waves of the world had carried them on such different tracks, that since their finally quitting school, when Laura Meredith and Cecilia Goring had B 3 4 DAUGHTERS. wept in each others arms, and sworn eternal friendship — with the exception of a letter in- terchanged between them of mutual congratu- lation on their intended marriages, they had neither met nor held any intercouse with one another ; till on this bright day fifteen years after, when the green barouche containing the still bright eyed Laura, and the dark blue britscka with the fair Cecilia, stood side by side on the review ground. Striking and interesting features in the com- mon-place "working days portion of life's wondrous whole" are such meetings — such re- unions ! What a fresh well-spring of renova- ting youth do they cause to rise within the hearts of those, who in the cares, or the riches, or the pleasures of this life, have not dulled and deadened to the voice and touch of the lively, kindly feelings of our nature ! — " No other friendship ere can raze Th' endearment of our early days." And however faded and dimmed by time or DAUGHTERS. 5 separation — half an hour of renewed intercourse — a few graphic reminiscences of other days — simple — trifling as they may be — and the past is as yesterday. The thread of the old story is taken up — scenes, actors, feelings, seem to stand forth in pristine brightness — the friends of youth are friends once again — almost as inti- mate as if they had never parted. " The world is full of such partings and such meetings." A lamented di\^ne beautifully writes : — ** How many are there whom we have left in childhood, and whom we have not met again, till years have done their accustomed work of alteration and change — with whom, though we meet in peace, circumstances forbid that we should journey on together I — wc see minor things in such a different light, that although agreeing in the main, and upon essentials, and still experiencing the most kindly feelings to- wards each other, both will best fulfil their appointed works alone." 6 DAUGHTERS. But a first meeting such as that of Mrs. Cameron and Mrs. Sackville is not the occasion wherein to make any such depressing discovery. Their carriages had drawn up side by side for some short time ere Mrs. Cameron, intent on the settlement of half a dozen young ones, had leisure to make the conjecture as to who might be the owner of the well-appointed equipage arresting her husband's course on his riding up to superintend the advantageous dis- posal of his family — and by whom he was now engaged in conversation ; the General and his suite having not yet appeared upon the field. But the britscka having at length, under Colo- nel Cameron's direction, been pushed in a more convenient juxta position for sociability, the words — " Laura, Mrs. Sackville wishes to renew her acquaintance with you," sounding in her ears, she bent forward wdth animated pleasure to receive the greeting of the companion of former years. DAUGHTERS. 7 There was no hesitation — no misgivings as to what alteration time, and its conse^[uent changes, might have inteqjosed to interrupt the renewal of former friendship. The friends' eyes met — and the first glance was sufficient assurance that whatever absence and its work might have effected in either — nothing could restrain their hearts from bounding cordially towards each other. Their hands were pressed aiFectionately — they were again " dear Laura,'" *' dear Cecilia," and Mr. Sackville — no longer thought of — mounted his horse and gallopped off with Colonel Cameron, leaving the friends to the mutual pleasure of their re-union. We will not enter into the animated conver- sation that ensued — interrupted only by the arrival of the General upon the field, and the interest in the proceedings to which their atten- tion was, per force, attracted. Some gentlemen rode up to pay their respects to the ladies, and afterwards Mrs. Cameron had little time for ought but her endeavours to 8 DAUGHTERS. satisfy the engrossing demands made upon her attention by the children — their calls upon her sympathy in their various emotions of wonder, delight, and terror — to answer at the same mo- ment five or six little tongues — pulled here — pulled there — to look this way — to look that way — at Papa — at the General ! — the motion of the vehicle not rendered the gentlest by their enthusiasm. Whilst Mrs. Sackville — she leant back once more in quiet ease, and sohtary grandeur, amidst her well-stuffed cushions, to converse with those near her — or to watch the spectacle undisturbed. How hea^dly, in the judgment of the vulgar, do the outward trappings of common life weigh in the balance of human happiness ! Those who had marked the appearance of the two carriages on the review ground — the plain green barouche drawn by two posters, with its old-fashioned make, and well-worn appearance, bearing witness to having seen good service — the single unliveried servant — and then its DAUGHTERS, y crammed interior — all' this noted in contrast with the elegant britscka of the newest con- struction, the four splendidly trapped bays, and various powdered servants, must have doubtless at once desio-nated the different fortunes of the occupants of the two carriages; and the balance of comfort — the English interpretation for happiness — must, of course, have prepon- derated greatly in favor of the latter. Well, so it might be, if the case were con- sidered in a worldly point of \4ew ; but let us look a little more closely, and by stating the case as it really stands, leave the readers to form their own opinion on the subject. Laura Meredith and Cecilia Goring might have been said to start on the race of Hfe under as equal circumstances as well could be. Both w^ere only children with handsome fortunes — both made love matches, their husbands being, at the time of their marriages, about equally possessed, or rather dis-^oisessed, of this world's goods« B 5 10 DAUGHTERS. But there ended the equality — for Mr. Sack- ville had expectations, and was, moreover, a member of a collateral branch of the aristo- cracy. Colonel Cameron had no prospect of increase of fortune — could boast of no family distinction save high respectability. The expectations, moreover, of Mr. Sack- ville were realized sooner than had been hoped for. His few hundreds soon became tens of hundreds, with no additional expenses to make the encrease more welcome than at first starting on married life ; for years passed — even fifteen summers, as we have seen — and no olive branches blessed the union of the Sackvilles, whilst the Camerons, in as plentiful proportions, saw their table surrounded ; and their purse — as may be imagined — somewhat less full. *' And how many have you, Laura ?" de- manded Mrs. Sackville, with a sigh, as in the course of the morning she was again conversing with her friend, and now on the subject of the DAUGHTERS. 11 children, who had coiiie under particular' notice ; admiring first the eyes of one, then the hair of another — -remarking the Ukeness of that little girl to her mother — of that fine boy to his father ; and the sigh heaved truly from Mrs. Sackville's heart, when she heard the answer * seven,' which with a smile and a shrug came from Mrs. Cameron. " Seven, and another expected ? happy creature !" " Happy — yes, my dear Cecilia, but then think of the care — the trouble," and the mother, in consideration of her childless friend, tried to assume the air of gravity, and the op- pression of countenance requisite to give force to her words. But it was hard to act to the life what in truth she felt so little, and her faqon de purler manner of expressing herself was not calculated to deceive or reconcile Mrs. Sackville to her contrary fate. Oh ! for some of those cares and troubles .' Light and easy must be the burden ; she saw 12 BAUGHTEES, no marks of either care or trouble on the happy, blooming face of Mrs. Cameron; no change had years imparted to her looks, on the contrary, improvement. The woman of thirty four was handsomer than the girl of sixteen. Her hair was darker and more glossy — her eyes brighter, with far more of feeling in their expression, and Mrs. Sackville, as she gazed into the clear, dark orbs, might truly with the poet have exclaimed — " They hare not shed a many tears, Dear eyes, since first I knew them well." No truly — all — all such care and trouble gladly would she have endured in exchange for the sickening pang of " hope deferred," often gnawing in the midst of ease and prosperity, as year after year of her married life had seen " that never satisfied desire" unfulfilled — the bitter, silent tear, or the stifled sigh caused by the sight of other's blessings — blessings for DAUGHTERS* 13 which she was doomed to yearn in vain. And then the counteracting evils — ^if such existed — attendant on the en\'ied gifts bestowed upon her friend, were they not burdens lightened by participation with the beloved partner of her joys and sorrows, whilst her grief was one but encreased in bitterness a hundred fold, by witnessing her husband's equal share in the disappointment of their hopes ? In short, though the naturally placid disposition of Mrs. Sack- ville enabled her to endure this cross with such an equanimity to outward appearance, that not even those nearest to her could tell the fuU ex- tent of its galling weight upon her heart — the cry of her inward soul if embodied in words might have been that of the faithful Patriarch — would that the same unfailing faith had animated the appeal — " Oh ! what will thou give me, seeing that I go childless ?" " And how many will you give me of those little burdens ?" asked Mrs. Sackville, laughing 14 DAUGHTERS. off the momentary cloud which had obscured her spirit* " Oh ! as many as you like," laughed Mrs. Cameron. " Ai-e you willing to part with a few of your children to Mrs. Sackville ?" she enquired of her husband who at that moment joined them. " Oh ! by all means, wliich will you have — this one?" and Colonel Cameron playfully lifted up the youngest child-ra girl of three — and placed her in Mrs. S^S:ville's carriage. Mrs. Sackville caressingly^ pressed the child to her side, apt^L^f little creature struggled to re- turn to her mother. It was not hers, she felt too well, and she saw by the fond, proud glance of the parents' eyes as they turned them smil- ingly over the little party, how difficult they would have found it — had they really been called upon to resign one — to have made the selection. Mrs. ■ Sackville soon persuaded Annie, a little girl about ten years old, whose likeness DAUGHTEES. 15 to her mother had struck her fancy, to take a seat by her side, and from her she extracted a list of the names and ages of all the little Camerons. There were first, two boys, Alick and Gerald, then Lena, the eldest girl — herself, Janet, seven — Carry, five — Minny, three. They were a beautiful family. The two brothers, fair, tail, noble boys— perfect specimens of English youths, seated side by side on the coach box, the arm of one with graceful abandon encircling the neck of the other — Lena, an interesting looking girl, gentle and shy, with a somewhat pensive expression of countenance, with long, fair hair and soft hazel eyes — then Annie, the little, lively, dark eyed beauty, and three blue eyed little girls with as yet nothing but rosy cheeks ^o make them worthy of particularization — all en masse forming a lovely bouquet to attract and delight the stranger's eye — hovv' much more the parents' heart ! 16 DAUGHTERS. CHAPTER II. " Every dog, the adage says, has its day— Has it— has had it— or will have it. CARLYLE. Blessed is the hearth when daughters gird the fire ! And sons, that shall be happier than their sire. Ebenezer Elliot, Let not the reader imagine that in placing before them in contradistinction the separate fortunes which had fallen to the lot of the two friends, that it is with any intention to exalt the advantages of one above the other in their estimation. DAUGHTERS. 17 No — who may even dare, in tliis our sliort sighted state of being, to display to the eyes of their fellow mortals the fairest and the darkest picture of man's lot in life, and take upon themselves confidentially to dictate, which to choose, and which to reject. A thankless office at least it would be found to prove. A cry might follow the adviser, reproachful as that of the unsatisfied Israelites to their leader, Moses — " Wherefore hast thou dealt thus with us — to carry us out of Egypt — it would have been better for us to serve Egyptians then to die in in the wilderness ?" And who that watches with a patient spirit, the ways of Providence with his creatures, will ever dare to say " those ways are unequal ?" No, in the same manner " as to every thing under the sun, there is a time, and season," so have all alike sooner or later their seasons of clouds and sunshine; theii "times to weep, and their times to laugh — ^their times IB DAUGHTERS. to mourn — and their times to dance " — though different may be the season of life at which those times are sent to each. " A man may live many years and rejoice in them all — but then let him remember the days of darkness — they also shall be many— therefore remove sorrow from thy heart and evil from thy flesh, for all these things, for which you disquiet yourself, are vanity." Return then to your home, rejoicing wife and mother, but in glad confidence of present joy and blessedness, forget not those evil days which may come upon you, when all that is now light may be darkened, your pleasant things become burdens too heavy to be borne. And you — ^her childless friend, say not that your lot in life is desolate and unblessed in comparison to hers, but — " Joy in the gifts heaven's bounty sends " you know not what you do when you envy her contrary fate. DAUGHTERS. 19 " For who knowest what is good for man in this life " — " you know not, but you shall know hereafter." The palmy time of a woman's life is most assuredly that earlier era of her married career, when her family are young — with nought but childish wants and wishes to be satisfied — youthful pleasures easily to be indulged. Sources they then are of actual enjojTnent and future hopes — of much delight mingled with little of that feeling, partaking too much of pain, which the care and anxiety of their riper years must necessarily infuse into the cup of parental affection. Of this period, Mrs. Cameron had as yet been in the fullest enjoyment. The greatest of heart-aches she had as yet suffered, in her ma- ternal history, had been occasioned by the 20 DAUGHTERS. parting with her boys for Rugby, and the yielding of her indulged little girls to the slavery of the school-room — having to gaze mercilessly at pale looks and tearful eyes — to listen to complaints, and agree to punishments, against which, however slight they might be, her tender heart rebelled. And yet Mrs. Cameron thought these trials quite bad enough to endure, and never troubled herself with imagining any greater for the future, on her childrens' account. Her dearest dream for the pretty creatures — ^her girls, was their several emancipations and debuts in the world ; and the most confident visions of their success, in the fullest sense of the word, flitted before her fancy. Well ! she had only now a few years to wait and her wishes would be accomplished ; for Lena would then be old enough to present to the world. Colonel Cameron was at this time on the eve of becoming a general officer, which step would DAUGHTERS. 21 soon remove him from the command of the regunent — A month the re-united friends spent in each others society, (for the Sackvilles were staying at Brighton) and shortly after, the Camerons left England for a leno-thened residence on the continent in order to combine economy with advantages for perfecting the education of the girls, until the time arrived when they hoped the General might be employed upon some staff appointment. ]VIi\ and Mrs. Sackville continued their placid, easy career in much the same way as flows on the existence of the gencrahty of such well to do — childless couples — with all that happiness which mutual attachment — calm, congenial, and easy affectionate confidence is capable of administering — yet still in the pos- session of all these blessings — feeling the want 22 DAUGHTEKS. of those interests wliich shed such warmth and light over the home of a married pair, with children. Mr. Sackville was a most amiable man — but quiet and reserved, and far from brilliant, and Mrs. Sackville, pleasing in person, and much beloved by those who knew her well, was not particularly formed to shine very brightly in the world, and find in its excitement a com- pensation for the absence of more healthy stimulants at home. They spent their days, giving and receiving hospitality — doing as much good as could be done in a quiet way, with as little trouble to themselves as possible — and in this mediocre state they might probably have continued to the end of their lives, had not fortune, by one of those sudden freaks, by wliich it sometimes loves to electrify good, easy people, changed the aspect of their destiny. In the course of the five following years, no less than three most unthought of deaths oc- DAUGHTERS. 23 curred in the Sackville family, and by this means eiFectually cleared the way for Mr. Sackville to the Dukedom of Strathedon — the simple, unassuming commoner thereby becoming one of the highest and most influential Peers of the Realm — and the fair and gentle Cecilia, " The beautiful and accomplished Duchess " — a leader and courted patroness of the hemi monde and its votaries. Far different was the colouring of the same five years to the Camerons. The baby who received the name of Cecil, the then Mrs. Sackville being his godmother, was bom at Brussells, where for two years the Camerons had resided, and at the close of that period another little daughter was added to the flock. The two older boys were at Sandhurst. Every advantage was bestowed upon the young daughters, in order that accomplish- ments and additional grace might enhance their native beauty, which in the expectation of the parents — particularly the mother — was 24 DAUGHTERS. to do such great things for the fair girls ; and few saw this lovely group, but they helped to add higher colouring to the proud imaginings of Mrs. Cameron on that score, by the eulo- giums which they unceasingly poured upon the beauty of the sisters ; the many predictions as to the triumphs in store for the mother on their dehut, were for ever delighting her ears, and congratulations on her good fortune, at not having one ugly daughter to present. And such variety of loveliness — not two alike ! Lena, with those meek, hazel eyes and fair, drooping tresses! — the gazelle eyed brunette Annie — Janet, with that most uncommon style of beauty — ^blue eyes and raven hair — that lovely little rosy child — Minny ! " But Carry — poor Carry," would Mrs. Cameron laughingly exclaim, " why have you omitted the detail of her charms ? alas ! alas ! what shall I do when my fourth daughter makes her appearance ?" Now poor Carry was the fright — at least for such a family — with only very ordinary blue DAUGHTERS. 25 eyes and brown hair ; her clieeks losing their rosiness, as she passed from early childhood, without acquiring the clear, fair paleness dis- tinguishing some of her sisters' complexions. " Ah ! but children improve so much — there was no knowing how she would turn out, and then she was so amiable, so good." " Amiable — good — yes" — But alas ! for Mrs. Cameron, in those days of maternal vanity, she would perhaps have dispensed with a little of such goodness for a small increase of her sister's personal merits. And then they were all, more or less, amiable — the beautiful Lena — docile, yielding almost to weakness; but that very fault rendering her the more interesting to the mother's heart. Annie — lively, spirituelle, irresistibly at- tractive, was certainly the spoilt cliild of the family, but even through that trying ordeal, her natural goodness of disposition brought her unscathed* Janet was a most agreeable cliild, quick, VOL. I c 26 DAUGHTERS. energetic and clever ; she gave no trouble. In short, as none of the girls were deficient in disposition, poor Carry's virtues, however superior, would most assuredly have gained a higher lustre had they been brightened by a little more of the beauty, for which her sisters were so conspicuous. Not that she had much cause to complain by reason of this inferiority — still is it not too common a case, (sad proof of the vanity and weakness of human nature) that whilst " it is better to be good than pretty" is the cuckoo maxim of the lips, sound- ing ever on the outward ear of the young — hourly experience soon teaches them its hoUow- ness — too truly engraving on their hearts the maxim in its reversed sense. From how many a poor child is daily wrung the bitter eigh, and inward ejaculation, " How far better to be pretty than goodP " Ah ! blessed are the beautiful. Love watches o'er their birth, Oh ! beauty in the nursery I learnt to know thy worth.'* DAUGHTERS. 2? With complacent confidence Mrs. Cameron anticipated the debut of her eldest daughter. Lena's gentle, interesting style of beauty she knew to be generally found most attractive to the ruder sex — and the mother felt little doubt of her failing to fulfil the destiny, for which she seemed bom — an early and good marriage ; early it was to be hoped, for her sister's sake ; good, in the full sense generally applied to matrimony. For the second girl, Mrs. Cameron's wishes and expectations were less calmly compliant, only because they were more ambitious, and high strained. Not only a good but a splendid match alone would satisfy her, on Annie's score. Her beauty was the mother's pride and crown of gloiy. In her mind's eye were visions of sundry young sons of noblemen, whose heads had been turned at childrens' balls by the wild beauty of the little Annie. Even a young prince had honoured her with the C 5 28. BAUGHTEES. title of his " little wife," and bestowed on her, at parting, a ring as a pledge of his juvenile attachment — of course then the young beauty must do wonders in her riper years. General Cameron did not fully enter into his wife's sanguine hopes and wishes, on the subject of the early marriages of his dearly loved daughters — men seldom can. The at- tributes of forethought and anticipation, by which the female sex wear and excite their minds, are seldom to be found so painfully de- veloped in men. They are too much behind the scenes — understand their own species too well, not generally to pause and hesitate, before they can make up their minds to deliver their pure and innocent daughters into a husband's hands. They can appreciate the risk they run. And then again the stir of their life — the activity of their pursuits, so different from the confined, monotonous existence of a woman — leave little leisure, comparatively speaking, for " Thinking of the past And upon future years.'* DAUGHTERS. 29 for brooding over the uncertainties of the moment — conjuring up, in vain, wishes and enervating visions of the fancy — " That idle chase of hopes and fear?," which too often cause woman's days to be con- sumed in vanity, and her days in trouble. General Cameron could not embody anything very alarming in the idea of having his girls all around him — still his own — though they had attained the age when they might have been separated from their happy home ; there- fore he was far from being able to agree with his wife, as to the indispensable advantages of early marriages. He supposed it rather a matter of course than of desire that they would marry some time or another — his fond heart trusted it would be well — but, then, General Cameron's idea of marrying well Avas marrying happily — this latter term com- prehending, of course, the unquestionable respectability of the connection — a perfect 30 BAUGHTEKS. gentleman in character and situation — a tender^ affectionate husband, able to maintain his wife in the same sphere in which she had been born-^ to bestow upon her the same comforts to which she was accustomed* He asked nothing more ; therefore, though to please Mrs. Cameron, whose wishes were his law, he did make efforts and sacrifices to pave a way for their childrens* entrance into the higher circles, it was more for the sake of her desire than any eager anxiety on his own part for the attainment of her object. Mrs. Cameron, alas! had higher aspirings than her husband — and there are but too many instances of parents, who, like her, do desire greater things for their children than the more moderate thinking General — who covet for them riches and honors and distinctions above that which is the portion seemingly assigned by Providence — ^who aspire to set them in those high and slippery places of the earth — ^rather than in the safer, humbler walks of life, where DAUGHTERS. 31 pleasantness and peace, (were it not for the pride and covetousness of the hearts of those who walk therein) are so much more surely to be found. Was not the request of the mother, in scrip- ture, gently rebuked, who asked for her cliildren such great things even in heavenly places? how much more then worldly parents— the tenor of whose petitions, or the desire of whose hearts are for the earthly distinctions of their children, not the heavenly — may it be said, " Ye know not what ye ask." " Do you seek great things, for your children seek them not !" To see them in this world — as is the fate of many — the innocent victims of your erring wishes and prayers, perchance will be your bitter punishment — but a punishment still more severe may be your portion, for — as the words of one who has left us his impressive reflections on this subject thus eloquently set forth — 32 DAUGHTERS. " Who can tell how many a soul hereafter shall for ever curse the day, when a parent's prayers or a parent's eiForts obtained for them those gratifying distinctions, of wealth or honor or worldly aggrandizement, for which their own hearts have panted — Oh ! when you behold your children, in after life, following with avidity any golden bait the world throws out to them, look back upon the prayers of their infancy, those which you yourself offered from the blindness of an affectionate heart. Did you seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness for those objects of your warmest affections ?" DAUGHTERS. 33 CHAPTER III. " Condemn'd to suffer through the day Restraints which no rewards repay, And cares where love has no concern." SoUTJiEY. " ! it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant." Measure for Measure. The young Camerons never forgot in after years a \dsit they paid, with their mother, to a country house, just before leaving England for the continent. The place belonged to Mr. Beauchamp, a rich young man. The visit was 34 DAUGHTEKS. to Lady Racliel Beauchamp, bis mother, who resided with him. The Camerons were accustomed to such ex- cursions with their parents — accustomed to the pretty bonnets and dresses which adorned their still prettier little persons on such occasions, therefore never suffered from awkward shyness, or troubled others with the excitement and undue elevation of spirits which children brought up upon different systems, often en- dure, or cause to be endured, under the in- fluence of novelty. But the young ones did on this occasion remember feeling a sort of chill creep over them — a weight oppress their spirits, when ushered through the long galleries of cloister- like stillness, by which they entered a large, stately saloon, and were received by a still statelier looking lady ; who having slightly noticed each by a look which appeared to them to savour more of sovereign scrutiny than the admiration and approbation to which they were DAUGHTERS. 35 accustomed, motioned them to opposite seats, remote from herself and their mother, to whom they would fain have clung more closely. They recollected that after a pause in the conversation, which had been carried on for some time between the two ladies, Mrs. Cameron had enquired for the Miss Beau- champs — and whether they might be allowed the pleasure of being introduced to them. " It is not my custom to allow my daughters to be paraded before company, at an age when the school-room, and its duties, is the proper sphere to which they ought to belong." And the cold, eagle eye of Lady Rachel turned somewhat invidiously upon the young trio before her. " But General Cameron having been a con- nection, and old friend of the late Mr. Beau- champ, I will," her ladyship added, " make an exception on the present occasion." The bell was rung and the Miss Beau- 36 DAUGHTERS. champs were ordered to attend with their g overness. The little Camerons had awaited the interval which followed, with the warm interest which children generally take in those of their own age, and now it was heightened by curiosity, to see what the daughters of such a mother would be like. The door at length was thrown open, and two tall girls of twelve and fourteen walked in, followed by another of nine, led by a most formidable looking governess. Like three criminals, condemned to execu- tion they looked. " Young ladies, approach IVIrs. Cameron, and pay your respects to her," exclaimed the lady mother, in a tone of voice which made the hearts of the young Camerons sink within them, with dismay and pity for the poor victims to whom it was directed, and who they beheld like frightened hares tremblingly advance and curtsey to their own dear mother. DAUGHTEKS. 37 whom, they felt, had never looked so kind and beautiful before. " May I be allowed to introduce the Miss Beauchamps to my little girls ?" Mrs. Cameron at length said, as ha'vang shaken hands with the poor children and smiled encouragingly upon them, she observed that they still continued to stand before her like culprits constrained and embarrassed, as the severe eye of their mother fixed itself upon them. " Young ladies, you have my permission to seat yourselves by the Miss Camerons," said Lady Rachel. The poor things obeyed, and sat down stiff' and motionless on tlu*ee high backed chairs, wliich stood in array near the large damask ottoman, which the three less scrupulous children had ventured to appropriate, not daring, however, to make any further advances to ac- quaintance with their visiters, though unable wholly to restain their womanly propensity to curiosity, which no tyranny can subdue, and 38 DAUGHTERS. which prompted them to steal sidelong glances from beneath their downcast lids at those so strongly contrasting with themselves — at their dress — the pretty, tasteful though simple pelisses — the gaily trinuned gipsey hats — and more than all the beauteous, clustering locks and happy countenances of the Miss Camerons, who in their turn as silently surveyed the homely dresses — cropped hair, and miserable looks of their companions, with something of the pity and indignation swelling at their hearts, which a free bom Englishwoman might be supposed to experience in witnessing the misery and degradation of a female slave — for no children could have imbibed more liberal ideas on the subject of freedom of will and spirit, owing to the indidgence and tenderness of their parents, than the young Camerons. Their feelings were still more outraged by the insult added to injury, occasioned by the open comments with which Lady Rachel was pleased to draw the attention of her visiters on DAUGHTERS. 39 her persecuted daughters, and in a way which evidently was most painful and humiliating to their feelings, as might be seen by the deep crim- soning of face, neck and ears of one — the sullen contraction of the brow of another — and the touching, pitiful expression of meek endurance which stole over the countenance of the younger and most interesting looking of the trio — all speaking of irritated passions, wounded feelings, writhing and working under the com- posed, subdued exteriors they were forced to assume. It is indeed difficult to believe, that the gratification of mere natural tyranny of disposition could have directed any mother to such conduct towards her children — but it was certainly the spirit of Lady Kachel's system of education, to endeavour to mortify and subdue every natural evil and corruption of her children's minds and characters; for not content with laying upon them the iron rule of subordination by visiting any slight offence with the strictest rigour of school-room 40 DAUGHTERS. law, she kept up a constant system of mortifi- cation of spirit. To carry out to the full, the reason which had doubtless prompted this unwonted infringe- ment of her system of seclusion, it seemed on the present occasion to be her aim to make the unfortunate girls feel to the quick all the in- feriority of their privileges and indulgences compared with those enjoyed by other childi-en, and to mark more plainly the contrary discipline under which it was her will they should abide. " My daughters, you will perceive, by their appearance and manners are not yet well suited for society," Lady Rachel said, addressing Mrs. Cameron; " however we must be thank- ful that there are still many years to elapse ere Eachel will be called upon to grace her brother's table; six or seven years of discipline may perhaps render her a presentable object — Amelia, Mrs. Cameron is looking at your affable countenance with admiration. — I think, jVIiss Eicketts," turning to the governess, who DAUGHTEKS. "^1 retained her station by the door " that Miss Agnes might have spared us the sight of those red and swollen eyes." These and such like painful and embarrass- ino- remarks wereahnost as discomforting to the visiters as to the objects of them. Annie's lively spirits indeed grew too im- patient any longer to bear the intolerable gene of her situation, and catching the sound of her father's step and voice without, who having been met by Mr. Beauchamp at the door, was taken by him to view some unprovements in the grounds, and acting upon the impulse of her feelings, she sprung from her seat, and flew like a wild bird through the window opening on the lawn, to the shelter of his kindly arms. Lady Rachel interrupted an apology which Mrs. Cameron commenced for her spoilt child's conduct by peremptorily ordering the IMiss Beauchamps to retire; her ladyship either alarmed at the effect this evil example might produce upon their minds— or unwilling to 42 DAUGHTERS. allow them to be seen in case of the entrance of any fresh company. Willingly the poor creatures withdrew, to return to drudgery and confinement, but doubtless far mx)re bearable to them than the drawing-room martyrdom. General Cameron led in the young offender accompanied by Mr. Beauchamp, a young man, looking older than his years, which at that time might number about three and twenty, who spoke little, but that little with great as- surance and determination, which made his taciturnity appear rather reserve and pride, than shyness — or timidity — not surprising in a son of Lady Rachel's. Mr. Beauchamp stared much at the eldest little girl, who sat looking pale and nervous, but took no further notice of the children. The Camerons had no inclination to prolong their visit after the entrance of the gentlemen, and with glad haste the children made their escape through the sombre passages and gloomy portal, and seating themselves opposite their DAUGHTERS. 43 parents in the carriage, gave one awed look at the dark mansion, from the many narrow win- dows of which seemed to frown Lady Rachel's glances. One sigh was breathed for the poor imprisoned victims it contained, and then they once more drew their free and happy breaths — Annie and Janet declaring — in answer to a playful tlireat of their father — who was greatly amused at the effect the terrors of Lady Rachel had produced on the minds of his indulged cliildren — of sending them to live at Beauchamp Towers — that they would never enter those walls again — that they hoped their Mama would leave them at home if ever she paid such another visit, and most animated were they in their expressions of wonder at all they had seen. But Lena — was it that her gentle spirit which ever quailed at a look of sternness — her tender heart ever wounded by a harsh word — was it shaken by the unwonted and extreme example which had now been presented 44 DAUGHTERS. to her — was it her natural sensibility, or that some foreboding cast its deep, oppressive burden upon her? She sat pale and motionless, till, in answer to a playful sally from her father, she returned it, not as did her sisters, but leant her head upon his breast and melted into silent tears. DAUGHTERS. 45 CHAPTEE IV. " Thou stoodest at the threshold of the scene Of busy life ; with timid steps I crossed it, And thou beside me like some angel posted To lead me out of childhood's fairy land, On to life's glancing summit, hand in hand." Coleridge's Wallenstein. It would weary our readers to detain them longer with the details of the early history of the young Camerons — therefore we must hasten to the period wliich, in her ignorance, their mother so gladly hailed— little dreaming that the time miglit come when she would 46 DAUGHTEKS. have reason to sigh, for those palmy days, when the group of flowerets were still clustering to- gether in budding beauty around her. The period to which we allude was that wliich presented the eldest girl, Lena, to the world. Under what is generally considered the most auspicious circumstances did tliis event take place. In anticipation of a lucrative appointment promised to the General through the interest of the Duke of Stratheden, the expences of a London campaign — otherwise unattainable — were ventured upon ; and the Duchess, who ever continued upon the most affectionate terms of friendship with her old schoolfellow, kindly insisted that from her house, the young Lena should first be presented to the London circles, also promising that her first ball should be given early in the season in honour of the fair debutante. Surrounded by such smiling circmnstances Mrs. Cameron thought the happiest day of her DArGHTEES. 47 life was that wliicli found her presiding over the first ball-room toilette of her beautiful Lena. And with what confident hopes and pleased anticipations did her heart beat as the young creature stood before her in her graceful dress and lily wreath, blusliing and smiling as ad- miring comments from brothers, sisters and attendants sounded in her ears. The sisters thronged around her in delight, and little Cecil, who awoke from his slumbers as Lena glided to his bedside to kiss him ere she left the house, clapped his hands, and called her his pretty fairy queen — wliich was indeed no unlikely comparison — for the fair sister might well have suggested one of our poet's heaii ideals of woman's beauty. " Like a bud when it is blowing, Like a brook when it is flowing, Marred by neither heat or cold, Fashioned in the lily's mould, Stately, queen-like, very fair, With a motion like the air. 48 DAUGHTEES. Glances full of morning light When the morn is not too bright, With a forehead marble pale, When sad pity tells her tale, And a soft, scarce tinctured cheek Flushing but when she doth speak." As for General Cameron, though his eyes glistened with feelings deeper than pride and admiration, as he looked upon his sweet daughter, nothing could exceed the admira- tion with which his gaze ever rested upon the still beautiful mother. The interest of her ap- pearance seemed only to be enhanced when thus pleasingly placed in contrast with the fair and youthful companion about to appear by her side — like some fair star gleaming its silver light near the gently shrouded radiance of the more brilliant planet, the moon. For whether " the first grey hairs" or her own good taste had taught the wisdom poor Haynes Bayley so delicately counsels — the matured beauty of thirty seven, had, on that oc- DAUGHTERS. 40 casion, assumed a style of costume whicli was far from diminishing the lustre it seemed in- tended to sober. Her jetty hair had exchanged the wreath now encircling her daughter's brow for a more matronly covering — most becoming — the General thought ; but though the pleasure elicited by her husband's praise called forth a bright, well pleased smile to her lips, Mrs. Cameron had never probably thought so little of her own appearance as she did that night, excepting in reference to the influence it might exercise over the interests of her daughter — for experience had taught her to deem it nearly of paramount importance to a girl's individual merits, those which in the eyes of the world were attached to the mother under whose guardianship she moved. Hoav often had Mrs. Cameron heard men talk over the personal qualifications of a girl, and after, perhaps, descanting upon her various nierits sum up by adding — VOL. I. D 50 DAUGHTEES. " But she will be exactly like her mother, some of these days !" And this qualifying clause would at once destroy the charm, as the image of the parent rose before the imagination. Certainly if per- sonal appearance could gain the favor of the multitude, Mrs. Cameron might have rested satisfied that a mother more attractive or a father more noble looking in his demeanour never led a young daughter upon the stage of life — and from the popularity and esteem which through their career they had ever found it their portion to obtain in the varied society in. which they had mingled, they had reason to be secure as to the countenance the fair debutante might receive ; and thus did young Lena cross, " with timid steps the threshold of the scene of busy life." To those who look not with a cold eye of mere worldly speculation upon this momentous era of a youthful existence, with what a glance of earnest interest must not it be regarded ! Whether the young de- DAUGHTERS. 51 hutante dances o'er the threshold with a joyous, careless confidence, which speaks no thought of thorns or briars lurking beneath the rose strewn path of pleasure, or that she crosses it with those same " timid steps," as if some fore- l)oding fear weighed upon her more gentle and sensitive spirit, amidst the gay sounds and sights and circumstances which bids her heart rejoice — both are alike, lovely and interesting subjects of observation. She is launched forth a fair and pleasing vessel upon that sea more deceitful than the watery billows — the ocean of life — but who can answer for her thereon ? " The smoothest seas will sometimes prove To the confiding bark untrue, And if she trust the stars above They can be treacherous too." The Duchess received the Camerons with as much of friendly warmth as the etiquette of that coldest of all atmospheres — a London ball-room — could admit ; however, quite suf- D 3 LIBRARY 52 DAUGHTERS. ficient in cordiality to give the party, in vulgar phrase, a lift in the eyes of those who witnessed the meeting. This was the first time the friends had met in London. The gay Metropolis is not a place wherein even the dearest friends and nearest relations can always find breathing time, as they have done amidst the calm cheerfulness of a country place. In London, " every man for his own" is the standard motto. The exhortation " Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others," is as a thing of necessity trampled under foot — and whether, as in the case of the recently coroneted Duchess, the cares and responsibilities of her new dignities — or, as in Mrs. Cameron's position, that of starting a young, inexperienced girl on the busy stage of life — both are found occupations equally incompatible, with other irrelevant interests or affections. But when the friends were once more face DAUGHTERS. 53 to face, the Duchess was far from being forget- ful of her engagements concerning Lena. The two friends had indeed changed places since they had last met. The Duchess, now glittering in her Strath- eden diamonds, courted and flattered to a de- gree, wliich might fain have induced a belief that her days of youth and beauty had but now commenced, saw before her the once much envied Laura Cameron, submissively taking her first step towards that shadowy path of life, towards which the chaperone mother, sooner or later, must retire, however hard she may struggle ere she yield her position. The Duchess might have perhaps felt some reconcil- ing thought on the subject of her own much la- mented motherless position, calculated to cause her heart to open even more warmly towards one, whose position was not quite so couleur de rose as she had formerly been induced repiningly to consider it. However it may be — certainly it spoke well for the kindliness of heart pos- 64 DAUGHTERS. sessed by our Duchess, the pleasure she felt in the idea of making her honours and dignities of use to her ever loved friend Laura ; and it afforded a rare specimen of the preservation of a friendship of early days; for in spite of the poet, whose words we have before quoted, it is a sentiment too beauteous to be often verified in these latter days of self-loving coldness. Yes the Duchess did remember, even amidst the circle of exclusiveness which surrounded her, that it was her early friend who stood before her in the person of the undistinguished Mrs. Cameron, and what was still more un- common, she wished the world to know it too — and all those who had before carelessly en- quired the name of the pretty girl, looking so pale, and dazzled, beneath the brilliant chan- delier — whose hand the Duchess retained so affectionately whilst speaking to her mother — soon asked with more eagerness the whys and the wherefores of the case, for the music having DAUGHTERS. 55 Struck up its first brilliant chords, all the brightest and most fashionable London belles were seen making way for that same pretty girl, who with her fair hair drooping gently back from her face now slightly flushed, her timid eyes look- ing round almost as fearfully as if she had been some Amy Robsart, dragged by a rival queen in her jealous wrath, was conducted across the room by her Grace to meet a young man, already summoned by the noble hostess, and into whose charge she placed the young Lena. He was tall, slight, fair, only " Less fair — Less winning soft — less amiable mild" than herself — and they looked, when thus placed side by side waiting for the rest of the company to form around them, a pair almost too pure and innocent to be fitted for the gaudy glare of the scene in which it was their fate to be the actors. Yet Mrs. Cameron, though agreeably struck — 56 DAUGHTERS. as all who had any taste for the beautiful must have been by the becoming effect of this se- lection — had no wish to presume that her noble friend had been guided by taste alone in her choice of the cavalier she had introduced to her daughter — rather did she hope that her Lena's first partner, whose amiable, quiet gaze and mildly spoken words seemed rapidly changing her timidity into her naturally gentle and con- fiding ease of look and manner, was one favored both by rank and fortune ; and the Duke at that moment coming towards her, with a kind compliment concerning her daughter, aiforded Mrs. Cameron an opportunity of satisfying or rather of dissatisfying her curiosity, for in answer to her question — " And who is Lena's partner ?" his Grace replied. " Oh ! poor young Sackville, a distant re- lation of mine." " Poor young Sackville !" that did not sound very eligible, particularly uttered in the tone of benevolent pity in which the amiable Duke DAUGHTERS. 57 expressed himself, and Mrs. Cameron thought that really her friend, the Duchess, might be carrying a little too far, her patronizing pre- ferment of friends and relations. This was, however, but a slight shade thrown over the full satisfaction of the night, for the quantity and quality of Lena's partners were, for the rest, all that she could desire, and the mother ended by being quite captivated by " the poor young Sack\dlle," who was intro- duced to her by Lena as a friend of her brothers. He danced no moi-e with his first fair part- ner, but was generally hovering near the spot when she was led back from the dance to re- sume her place by her smiling mother's side, and then a gentle look from her sweet eyes if she perceived him, which she generally seemed to do, would bring him to her, and again they would converse with almost the freedom of former friends. *^ And with which of your partners were • D 5 58 DAUGHTERS. you the most captivated, Lena?" her father enquired, as they drove homewards in the broad light of a summer's mom — ^Lena's head aching with fatigue, leaning against her father's shoulder. ^' Oh ! Papa, I do not know, there were so many, I can scarcely remember them distinctly, except the one I danced with first. Ah ! that dance was certainly the most agreeable during the night." " Then he pleased you most ?" the General persisted. " Oh ! he was quite different from the rest, and then we talked together of Alick and Gerald." We are not quite certain whether it was not Mrs. Cameron's first business on rising that day to open the new brightly bound Lodge's Peer- age, and turn unto the page where so con- spicuously was now inscribed the name of her once quiet and retiring little schoolfellow Cecilia Goring. DAUGHTERS. 59 She cast her eyes over the astericked Lord James, unmarried, and junior but by one year to the Duke, his brother, and passed down to the humbler collateral branches, from whose ranks it seemed in the course of nature that the next Duke of Stratheden must arise. Issue of Lord Henry Sackville, uncle of the present Duke — Then a cousin who could have no greater chance than the above mentioned Lord James, being even his senior, but then — ^this it was that made Frederick William, son to another deceased cousin, in the eyes of every prosperous relation and prudent mother — '^ poor young Sackville," for Lord James, his senior cousin, was seen to possess two siurviving sons — Henry Arthur, and Kobert James ; and Mrs. Cameron turned carelessly from that ducal page to search for other information in more promis- ing quarters, thenceforward suffering that fair and well matched young pair to carry on the fraternal like intercourse into which they seemed naturally to have glided, with little 60 DAUGHTERS. heed or care on her part, never troubling her friend, the Duchess, when seeking useful in- formation concerning those who sought or " said most gentle things" to Lena, with useless questions concerning the distant relations of the Duke — ^by this neglect, losing that know- ledge which might have changed the bent of her ideas upon the subject, and with it the young Lena's destiny ; for she might have learnt that on those two young names which stood in so fair and promising a position in the hon- ourable page of the Peerage, there hung a tale which might cause the poorest peasant in the land to rejoice that they were not his own. Henry Arthur and Robert James were idiots, who, even if their sickly lives were spun out to manhood, could in name alone enjoy the honours of the lineal succession. Mrs. Cameron learnt this not, till that future period, when it came, together with the intelligence that the neglected, slighted young Sackville was heir presumptive to the Dukedom of Stratheden — DAUGHTERS. 61 the last hope and prop of that dwindled house. How many live to find their worldly wisdom prove, in the end, but like Mrs. Cameron's — truly short sighted foolishness, " The wise are taken in their own craftiness,''^ 62 DAUaHTERS. CHAPTER V. " With pearls shalt thou entwine thy hair ; Thy robe, with rose and lily graced, shall heave Around thy beauteous form Fit symbol Of love celestial, is this pure, pale rose ] Oehlenschlaqbr's Axel and Valborg. It was a pretty scene to look upon the evening toilettes of young -Lena Cameron during this her first and last London season. There she sat so young and innocent — so fair and fresh in appearance, surrounded by her pretty bevy of younger sisters — ^One perhaps flitting before DAUGHTERS. 63 her with the flower or wreath, for which her long, fair hair was preparing, affixed with play- fiil conceit to her own streaming locks of jet — another kneeling, her fairy fingers, with officious zeal, assisting to draw the satin slipper on the little foot — one grave girl, perchance, intent on binding together the bouquet which was to adorn the snowy bosom of the lovely Lena — a fourth sister raising aloft the taper, in order to promote the better progress of the little French maid, who herself added no un- pleasing feature to the beauty of the scene. The toilette of Titania, with her fairy train, could scarcely have presented a prettier sight than did poor Lena's on these occasions. Perhaps the most interesting part of it all was the bearing of the Titania herself — so patient — passive and careless — displaying so little of that restless care with which the generality of ball-room beauties superintend the adornment of their loveliness — and it was still almost the same to the very last moment of her stay in London. 64 DAUGHTERS. No change seemed to tell that the world, which in a brief space seldom fails to cast its influence over the spirit of a fair one's dream, had produced any effect upon her. " Why, Mademoiselle, you have not even looked at yourself,'' Justine remarked one night, as her young mistress was escaping from her clutches to her mother's room for aj)proval, without even one glance at the cheval glass placed there for her benefit. " Ah! par doily Justine T she laughingly re- plied, as she cast a careless, playful glance at the reflection of her pretty figure, " but I have looked so often that now I know myself by heart." Justine shrugged her shoulders as Lena glided away. " Elle naime pas — elle — c'est claire cela — ah, elle est plus enfant encore que la petite, Minny." And so it might have seemed, for on another night, at one of these toilette levees, that same Mademoiselle Minny, then a fair little damsel DAUGHTERS. 65 of seven years, after having stood before her elder sister for some time with her large eyes fixed admiringly upon her, suddenly broke forth with the earnest question — " Lena, have you any lovers ?" The school-room trio laughed merrily at the witticism, as they deemed it, of the privileged nursery sister — and Justine smiled applause. But Lena, on recovering the first surprise of such a home question — which might have proved very electrifying to some more conscious young lady, but brought not even a faint blush over her clear, ingenuous countenance — thought it incumbent upon her dignified responsibility of elder sister, that this indiscreet expression should meet from her some slight reproof, which, however, was only apparent in the gentle gravity with which she said — " My dear Minny you should not talk so — what do you know of lovers ?" " But ^au^ you any, Lenf dear?" persisted Minny, holding to the precedency of her right '^6 DAUGHTERS. to have her question answered, and escape re- plying to one which rather puzzled her ; for except by name she had indeed a very vague comprehension of the practical meaning of that term; although the little maiden had — with something of the same distinctive aptness with which a parrot sometimes electrifies its hearers — applied it on this occasion. ** No, Minny, I have not," was Lena's quiet answer. An arch smile beamed from Annie's bright face, as she looked up quietly from the bouquet she was forming, some sly speech seeming to hover on her lips, but with aU the discretion of fourteen, she glanced at Justine and suppressed the names of Lord '" This" and Mr. « That," which she might probably have heard whispered by her mother, as belonging to gentlemen paying at- tention to Lena, and which she concluded meant the same thing as Minny's less delicate and plainer phrase of lovers indicated — a term profane, which on its reaching Mrs. Cameron's DAUGHTERS. 67 ears sealed that young lady's doom of banish- ment to the school-room, from which, for her little brother Cecil's sake, she had been with- held, to the prejudice, as it thus appeared, of her morals. Henceforth was she to be con- signed to those regions where young ladies' ears and lips are expected to be kept pure from any such words profane, or the idea even that such things are, except indeed as passing un- intelligibly wrapped in the liquid tones of Metastasio, or in the high flown words of the songs they are allowed to warble. And this the sole preparation for the time when they are to be called forth, and bade, as it were, to live for nought besides — to repine if lovers come not — and existing for some short time in a state of excitement and expectation too often ending in disappointment, at last to feel that satiety at their hearts, which might embody itself into some such strain as that with which the poor girl, in one of Barry Corn- 68 DAUGHTERS. wall's prettiest songs is made to express her longing wish for some " Calm, cool, quiet spot, Where nothing is seen but the branches green And flowers on the greensward stream, No lovers there witch the air, mother, Nor mock at the holy sky. One may live and be gay, Hke a summer's day, And at last, like the summer, die,^* But had Lena indeed gained no lovers during those three months her fair self had been seen in the haunts of fashion and gaiety ? Had she caused no hearts to throb — no tongue to falter as she was gazed upon — no one to love her best of all the flowers of loveliness, amidst which though many might shew of nobler hue and statelier mien, she moved with as fair and gentle grace as heart of man could desire — she said she had no lover, and in no spirit of maidenly modesty was this declared, simply it was what she thought ; for never did Lena dream of interpreting any of the attentions DAUGHTERS. 69 equally unmeaning as uninteresting in her eyes, which she received from her gay partners at balls, or loungers by her side at fete or opera, as entitling her to consider them as such. There was certainly one, towards whom her heart and eye often travelled amidst such scenes as to a being different from the rest, and who talked to her of her brothers ; but not even did she more than of some " pure, bright, particular star," think of tliis young man as a lover. But IVIrs. Cameron felt no such unconscious carelessness upon this same subject — indeed what mother could have been thus indifferent, not even one less anxious than the lady in question, who, though she thought she should not mind waiting until the time when Annie should make her appearance, cherished most certainly a very strong hope that this London season, the only one she anticipated for some time, might not prove unproductive. Mrs. Cameron was, however, no good practical fX) DAUGHTERS. matchmaker, and althougli in thought and wish she wedded her pretty Lena, to every eligible she might chance to dance with more than once in one night, or who lingered by her side at opera or fete, in the active measures of manoeuvring she proved most unskilful. Even her less energetic friend, the Duchess, re- marked this, and deemed that had she been the mother of daughters, she would have played her cards much better. " Now, Laura, there is Lord ," she said one day, " how often he dances with Lena ! how greatly he admires her is but too evident, and yet you are going to give this dinner on Tuesday, and have not invited him." " Why really, Cecilia I have not the face to do so," Mrs. Cameron answered, " Lord is scarcely acquainted with the General, and I fear it would look suspicious." " Not at all," rejoined the Duchess, " I offered him a seat in my carriage the other morning from the Duke of 's fete, on Lena's account solely, as she was with me." DAUGHTERS. 71 " All ! in you it was quite a different affair — you are not her mother — if it were for any one but Lena, I would ask him without a scruple, but under the present circumstances I should feel so guilty. Besides General Cameron would be so angry — so disgusted had he any idea of such a motive influencing the act." The Duchess, though she could not (even if it had been in her nature) be expected to feel the same energy of thought and desire upon the subject just discussed, nevertheless deter- mined — and when quiet, calm dispassioned per- sons take the trouble to determine they finally effect more than excitable, ever planning souls — to do all in her power to advance the cause which the delicate scruples of the mother ap- peared likely to frustrate. It seemed, therefore, not improbable that Lena, she so passive and unconscious an instrument — would end in becoming the Coun- tess of Seldon — for when a Duchess takes such matters in hand how seldom do they fail of 72 BAUGHTEHS. success, in these days, when young ladies are not often known to be the marplots of their own interests. But in this case it seemed that as some would say " fate put forth its inexorable hand," or rather that it pleased Him who ruleth over fatQ itself to stretch forth, for this once. His arm of mercy, and save an innocent young creature from the machinations of falsely af- fectionate friends, and that too by a stroke which seemed by its wholesome measure of severity, designed to purify the mother's heart, from the worldliness which was at that time her besetting weakness. DAUGHTERS. 73 CHAPTER VI. " I saw my sister's lovely form With gems and roses decked : I did not covet them ; but oft, I envied her the privilege Of being so beloved." Haynes Batlht. *' Thank you, dear Carry," said Lena one night, when deserted by the rest of her sisters for their mother's dressing-room, the patient child performed some little office in aid of Justine's services. " Some day, I suppose, Justine will be calling for some one to help her whilst fixing flowers in your hair." VOL. I E 74 DAUGHTERS. " Oh ! no, Lena," Carry answered quickly, " it will not much signify how they are stuck in my head." " Why, Carry ?" asked the sister. ^^ Oh ! it is so ugly a one," she continued, assuming a jesting tone, though the colour rose to her cheek, and her lip trembled. " I do not think so. Carry," said Lena. " Ah ! but Justine does, and a great many people besides too." " Moif mademoiselle r Justine exclaimed, reproachfully. " Ah ! you need not deny it, Justine, for some- thing else tells me so, with more truth, perhaps, than anybody," and Carry — to Jus- tine's terror — pressed her head very close to the shining ringlets of her sister till both faces were reflected in the toilette mirror — " There, Lena, there's a pretty face to set before a king." " It is a very dear face," said Lena, leaning her cheek caressingly against it. DAUGHTEKS. 75 ^' Ah ! que cest joUer Justine murmured, forgetting the danger of the action in admira- tion of the sentiment that inspired it. Besides the effect was pretty — the contrast of the little Cinderella figure with hair and garb in careless disarrangement, pressed against the beautifully attired Lena, in her white crape dress, and Lilies of the Valley — and then the Cinderella's self-condemned face looked not so plain at that moment, even though showing by one so very fair — for it was radiant with the unaccustomed expression of grateful feeling — and it bore but too often that sullen gloom frequently the characteristic of the conscious fright, and which gives her the greatest right to the sobriquet " Mademoiselle est si aimahle,'' murmured Justine, as she left the room on some errand. " Good — but not pretty," laughed Carry again, " I used to say that, when I was a very little girl, for I did not care much about being pretty then." E 3 76 DAUGHTEKS. *^ Do you not know it is very silly to care about being pretty, Carry?" said Lena, re- provingly, as she was drawing on her gloves — " Beauty fades away so soon, and even whilst it lasts, it makes one none the happier — Good- ness, it always remains. Does not Papa al- ways ask for his good little Carry ? Alick and Gerald say you are the kindest — the best tempered of all their sisters, and Mama is always telling the little ones to look up to you as an example." Carry's eyes filled with tears. " Ah ! but, Lena, I so fear not being always good — I sometimes think I become less so as I grow older-^-and then to be neither good nor pretty, and to feel that Papa and Mama can neither be proud nor fond of me ; that would be so dreadful !" " I do not believe that time will ever come, dearest Carry — I am sure you will be always good — therefore always happy, and that I am sure is all that you can require ; you do not DAUGHTERS. 77 know how many beautiful people are unhappy in the world," and Lena sighed, though she, it seemed, had felt very little of its unhappiness. " Are there indeed ?" asked Carry, in con- cern, " I hope you will never be unhappy, Lena, or Annie or Janet." " I trust not, Carr)^" Lena answered fear- fully, her timid spirit quailing at the very idea of unhappiness— her eyes fixing their serious expression— gazing as it were into the page of futurity to seek what ill could there await her —but the laughing, dark eyed Annie, and Janet bounded into the room in order to escort Lena to her mother, dispersing the cloud of reflection with which their gentler sister's spirits had been darkened by the fear which had risen up before them, of tho loss of good- ness and happiness— those two frail exotics of human possession— but how seldom thus trembled for in the days of thoughtless child- hood and youth! Poor Carry! did she already feel, and with 78 DAUGHTERS. trembling, those enemies to goodness — those movements of evil, peculiar to her position, troubling her heart ? for the perils of beauty though they may be great are not the only dangers which beset the path of woman. " The life of a beauty" is not the only state of existence in which a woman may find a snare. There is the soured temper — the spiteful tongue — the envy, hatred, malice and unchari- tableness which may spring from the thoughts first engendered in the heart, caused by the murmurings and repinings, occasioned by slight and neglect. Poor little Carry ! it seemed indeed that you were heard " in that you feared," and that He " who willeth not that one of these little ones should perish," looked with a pitying eye upon your humble self, and had already counted you among one of that favored flock, who are taken away from the evil to come. And was " the weak trembler on the edge of woe," less graciously regarded? DAUGHTERS. 79 Though blessed indeed are those favoured beings on whom it is the Father's good pleasure to bestow early the crown of glory — ^blessed also are those meek souls or- dained to wait so calmly the martyr's palm of earthly suffering! 80 DAUGHTEES. CHAPTER VII. " Oh ! was it ihe^i a time to die 1 It was ! that not in vain, The soul of childhood's purity And peace might turn again. Miis. Hemans. You have done with sin and sorrow, You are freed from care and pain ; You dread not the coming morrow, You never can fear again. Bernard Barton. A week after and the toilette duties were again going on — ^that monotonous routine alone not wearisome, as it becomes the sole business DAUGHTERS, 81 and interest of the life of the votary of plea- sure. Not for this reason had it become a pleasure to Lena Cameron, but it was one of the chief pastimes of her young sisters, in the confined sphere of enjoyment which a London life af- forded to them, to inspect her toilette, and she rejoiced in seeing their innocent and mirthful enjoyment. But this night her face was pale, and wore an expression of sadness and weariness — almost of impatience at the occupation in which she found herself en- gaged. Annie and Janet, too, stood by watching the progress gravely and silently. Poor Carry was not there — she had been very ill — indeed her sickness for the few last days had been a source of much anxiety. A cough, which she had had for some time, had taken the dangerous form of inflammation. On the night in question, however, it may be inferred, the uneasiness of the family had E 5 82 DAUGHTEES, abated; still it was a struggle to Mrs. Came- ron to leave the sick child over whom she had watched for the last two days and nights, to adorn herself for the gay scene to which she was now about to repair. And why then did she go ? — so Lena's tearful eyes enquired when her mother had said : " Well, Lena, I think as dear Carry is so much better I must take you to Lady to-night." But Mrs. Cameron did not tell her why; she only remarked, almost reproachfully, as she observed Lena's look of dismay — " It is for your sake, dear Lena, not mine that I make the exertion. I consider it my duty to go." And Lena said no more, though, perhaps, there rose to her lips — " For my sake, dear Mama, oh ! then, for my sake, do stay at home." But she was dutiful and confiding to a fault, if that feeling springing from the simple, child-like faith she bore towards her mother could be deemed a fault — a virtue truly might DAUGHTERS. 83 it more properly be called in these unfilial latter days. Therefore, without questioning the consistency of this, indeed, very doubtful duty, for which both her own and her mother's in- clinations, were to be outraged — Lena dressed, then stole to the side of her sleeping sister, and shortly after accompanied her mother to the ball — General Cameron remained with the invalid. It had been chiefly by the persuasion of the Duchess, that Mrs. Cameron had been induced, under the veil of duty, to do \dolence to those feelings which so strongly urged her to a con- trary course. The Duchess having heard of the improved turn Carry's illness had taken, had written to Mrs. Cameron begging that if it were not utterly impossible, Lena might appear at Lady 's that evening. She had particular reasons for wishing this — reasons connected with Lord Seldon — for she had been led to suppose that this occasion might prove a critical 84 BAUOHTEKS. juncture for the fulfilment of the hope she had so energetically laboured to accomplish. It would then have been ungrateful, Mrs. Cameron argued with herself, not to do a little violence to her own feelings in order to gratify her friend on this point. Their Doctor — one of his class who make the best of everything, always scorning ap- prehension — would not allow that there was any symptom in the case of his young patient to render the least necessary, the further se- clusion of the beautiful mother and sister — and General Cameron, thus re-assured, was only too willing that liis wife's mind should be diverted from the anxiety of a sick room, by a few hours of relaxation. But how ill repaid was Mrs. Cameron, for the violence done to her better feeUngs! The remembrance of this night did but afterwards affix in her heart one of those thorns of self- reproach, which are so agonizing to endure. How magnifying and over-reckoning is memory DAUGHTERS. 85 — and when that memory may be of the dead ! " To chase for one child an earthly shadow, I left another who was fast fleeting to the land of shadows and darkness — !" In such a garb as this did her reluctant act often rise up before the mother's eyes ! Lord Seldon was near a radiant beauty's side, as the pale, dejected Lena entered the room — but the dance having just concluded he came almost immediately to crave her hand for the next. But was one — just escaped with spirit de- pressed from that atmosphere of dismay, with which the apparition of danger and distress ever assaults a household — who accustomed to the voice of joy and health in their dwelling have been visited suddenly witn sickness and anxiety — was she fitted to meet the glare of such a scene — she whose thoughts were ever recurring to the darkened room through which for the last few days she had been gUding — picturing to herself that little bed on which 86 DAUGHTERS. she had left her sleeping sister — wondering if the meek sufferer still slept, was she— with her pale brow — her anxious countenance— absent eye — faltering speech, to take with success the place of the brilHant, animated beauty, who for the last week, during which Lena had been hidden from his sight — had charmed the ears and heart of the quickly inflamed Lord Sel- don? It was perceiving this new absorption which had been the Duchess's chief object in urging the expediency of Lena's counteracting pre- sence, and her dismay was great, when some time after, she beheld, on passing through an ante-room. Lord Seldon in deep flirtation with his new fascination; whilst Lena, whom her Grace had hoped — ^from her having disappeared with his Lordship — to have found still his com- panion, was seated in a secluded corner, with her own young relative, Frederick Sackville, standing before her. Lena had gladly dropped the arm of the partner who, though three days DAUGHTERS. 87 ago he had seemed but .too richly paid by sweet but unconscious smiles, and a few words of her low but melodious voice — had since been fed on richer and more piquant food — the coquet- tish smile and beguiling talk of the worldly beauty Lady Wilhelmina — and who therefore when on this night, smiles and words of any kind from poor Lena were so faint and few, he be- ofan for the first time to discover, that Miss Cameron both in looks and manner was rather tame — somewhat of the milk and water class. He must really take care what he was about — he had nearly been beguiled into losing his heart — perhaps into offering his hand — so when young Sackville had started from his seat, as Lena passed him, looking pale, and somewhat wistfully towards it — his Lordship having deposited her upon it, accepted more readily than had been his wont her bow of thanks as one of dismissal, and was soon by the Lady Wilhelmina's side. And Lena, not 88 DAUGHTERS. mortified but rather relieved as she beheld who was now her companion, said : " I have turned you oif your seat, Mr. Sackville ; but it is right that you should be disturbed, for you ought to be dancing instead of sitting idly here — Ah ! I envy you, gentle- men, you can dance or not, as it please you — but we are obliged to do so often when most disagreeable." " You do not mean to say that it is distaste- ful to you, and that you are obliged to dance, Miss Cameron," and the young man looked at her with such kind concern that the tears rose to her eyes. " I never felt before so great a disinclination to dance," Lena replied, with much sadness ; " but one of my sisters is very ill, therefore you may imagine my feelings, although it would not do for me to sit still as you do." " But she is better — or I should not have seen you here ?" enquired Mr. Sackville. DAUGHTERS. 8^ « Oh ! yes, better ; but still Mama would rather have remained at home." " Then why did you come ?" he persisted, fixing his eyes enquiringly upon her face. Lena shook her head rather doubtingly. A movement of joy rose to the young man's heart, for he had been let into the secret of the Duchess, concerning her views with regard to Lord Seldon, but he saw at once that she was not aware of them — Lena was as pure and unconscious, as when his young partner had on the first day of her appearance made so ineffaceable an impression on his imagina- tion. That Lily Queen, as he had called her to his invalid mother, as he described the perfection of the beautiful Lena, in all the ardent, glowing coiours of his youthftd imaginative heart — till the quiet chamber seemed to breathe of the purity and sweetness of the form and face he so graphically pourtrayed— the fairy form whom alone he followed to the gay scenes, amongst 90 DAUGHTERS* which, like a better spirit, she was wont to glide in those circles which, during his mother's sojourn in London for the benefit of medical advice, the young man frequented. But this night young Sackville — as Lena so soft, tearful and subdued seemed to lean upon his kindness and support, with such fas- cinating confidence — began to feel the influence which had been to him as yet but as a delicious dream — a vision of delight — a purifying guar- dian of his heart, from ruder passions, assume a name and a shape — a passion and a power, which if further scope had been given for its indulgence, might have gone far to disturb his happiness and peace of mind. And Lena — what might her passionless heart have learnt, in that hour, in which she first was conscious, that her eyes were drooping beneath the gaze of another— that a feeling of delight, different to aught that she had ever before experienced, made her heart light DAUGHTERS. 91 and almost forgetful even of poor Carry during the too fast fleeting moments ? But no, the sweet but dangerous lesson was interrupted— and though in after years she mio-ht almost have said with Schiller's Thekla c5 in thinking over that evening — " I had two hours of heaven," or in her dreams the remem- brance would float like music in the air, perhaps the delight of the moment was ex- aggerated by the contrast which it afforded to the sad dismay of the hours which so closely followed on its track — From this period there was no more heaven upon earth for poor Lena, save that which ever dwelleth in the pure and lowly heart in which the joys of earth can have no portion, nor its trials remove. The Duke himself, with an air of concern upon his countenance, came to tell Lena that her mother was waiting for her down stairs, and as he led the trembling girl he gently told her that they had been sent for, as her sister was not so well — then hurried her into the 92 DAUGHTERS. carriage, where Mrs. Cameron was already seated in fearful impatience; and from that glittering scene they were quickly transported to one — how different ! General Cameron was standing on the stairs, when, with trembling hands and sinking hearts, the mother and daughter entered the house ; for the father's heart was not sufficiently strong to endure the trial of witnessing his little daughter's sufferings — he could but pace to and fro with anguish pictured on his counten- ance ; grief tearing his too sensitive heart. His pale lips could scarcely answer the faltering enquiries of his wife and daughter. They hurried to the room where Carry lay — Near her bed-side crouched Annie and Janet, weeping in all the fervour of childish dis- tress. The invalid had awakened from the sleep, from which so much was expected, fearfully feverish and delirious — and her calls upon her sisters' names had summoned the poor girls from DAUGHTERS. 93 their beds in an adjoining room, to which they could not be prevailed upon to return. The sufferer's attention seemed to be forcibly attracted by the sudden and radiant apparition presented by her mother and Lena, in their ball attire, though she appeared to have but a confused comprehension of what she saw. Her eyes roved wildly over their forms, as they bent over her — and she began to talk of the bride and the pure gold, and the jaspers, and the pearls and precious stones of the city of God. These rambling ideas could be accounted for, by the fact of the beautiful chapter containing the description to which she alluded having been read to her during her illness. With what an aching heart the mother re- moved her jewels and adornments from her per- son to take her place as watcher by the bed of her dying child ! for as the fever and delirium, which lasted throughout the night, burnt itself away, the little frame gradually sunk ex- hausted, and she had but strength to smile M DAUGHTERS. faintly upon the first object wliich met her sensible perception — the form of Lena still wearing her ball costume (the pearls still adorning her pale brow) seated, leaning power- less and grief stricken against the bed. Poor Carry had but strength to smile upon that dear guardian sister, with an expression which might seem to speak some such words — " Oh ! cheer thee maiden in His name Who stilled Jairus' wail." And much need had those who wept for com- fort — When the day was come, the little maiden's spirit had received its final summons, and had arisen to a more blessed life than that to which the ruler's daughter was restored by the same Almighty voice which now called the young Carry to himself. There were many amongst those who Iiad heard of the affliction which had fallen upon the Camerons, and stopped their carriages before the closed house to enquire after the family, who felt more pity for the mother. DAUGHTERS. 95 perhaps on account of the sudden conclusion of her eldest daughter's promisingly commenced London season, than for the sad catastrophe itself. It certainly was a misfortune to lose a child, but then there was so large a family — that one could well be spared — And the departed was certainly not — as is too commonly the case — the pride — the flower of the flock, which had thus been cut ofl*, but the least fair — the least promising to outward appearance of all the party. But these worldly souls who thus argued were untried in any such bereavement — or they would have known that under such a stroke — nature, unless hopelessly deteriorated, ever asserts its natural rights — casting aside all those spurious impediments which may have before interrupted its full and healthful glow. The parent called upon to part with a child forgets whether it has been the most beautiful, the best beloved in life that has been taken from him, and feels constrained when the moment of bereavement arrives to mourn for. 96 DAUGHTERS. his Simeon, as deeply for Ms as Benjamin and his Joseph. Amongst the many marks of kindness which the Camerons received from the Duke and Duchess of Stratheden, during the period of their affliction, was the offer of a marine residence at Eastbourne, where the family might spend the first months of their mourning. It was gratefully accepted — and a few days after the funeral, the same green barouche was filling with the sable clad forms of the mother and her ^Ye children. Alas ! there was " just room now," as little Cecil, with childish thoughtlessness remarked, as he was placed in the seat between his mother and eldest sister, thus causing their hearts to bleed afresh by this innocently afflicted wound. There was one alone of the lovers and friends gained by the fair and gentle debutante during her sadly ended London season, who cared to seek for one more parting sight of her sweet face. DAUGHTERS. 97 Frederick SackviUe it was who made it his way to pass through street just in time to see the well packed carriage glide by him with its sombre garbed occupants — He had a sweet though melancholy reward — a quick glance of recognition — a sad smile wliich faintly lighted up the pale, dejected face of Lena. It was but a little guerdon — still one of great price to his true, young heart. " Not the thousand thoughts that rise, Not all the sights that dimmed his eyes," for many a future day could blot out, that sadly sweet remembrance ! " That fairy form was ne'er forgot which first love traced, Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot of memVys waste, 'Twas odour fled as soon as shed, 'Twas morning's winged dream — 'Twas a light which ne'er can shine again, On life's dull stream, VOL. I. F 98 DAUGHTERS. CHAPTER IV, " She was not fair, nor full of grace, Nor crowned with thought or aught beside ; No wealth had she of mind or face, To win our love, or raise our pride : No lover's thought her cheek did touch ; No poet's dream was 'round her thrown ; And yet we miss her — ah, too much, Now — she hath flown." Barry Cornwall, There are two members of the Cameron family, of whom we have made little mention — the sons — Gerald and Alick. They were as noble youths, both in mind and person, as ever DAUGHTEKS. 99 formed the pride of a father or the hope and joy of a tender mother. But there is so little upon which to dwell with peculiar interest in boys who go to school, or capable of particular- ization in that after period, when they are first launched upon the sea of life — generally so far away from the post of home. Thus, though the character of a woman — even from the cradle — may be easily antici- pated, it is difficult to foresee what a man's may be. We must wait till " the silence and the calm comes on" of riper manhood, and then " when the high seal of character is set, the impression stands forth, firm and manifest" and " all are seen not to be similar." The un- alterable signet is fixed, not the valueless ductile stamp of wax or bread, fashioned by the child — that feeble impress originally framed in one shape, but moulded, varied at will by the capricious touch or pressure of circumstances, wliich often almost justifies the poets' ungallant assertion that — F 3 100 DAUGHTERS. ■ " Most women have no character at all, Matter too soft a lasting mark to bear, And best distinguished by black, brown, or fair.'* Yes, man's character is truly formed of harder, sterner stuff, moulded in a slower but surer furnace, from which it issues forth, in- delibly stamped, good or bad, for time and for eternity. " The soul of man Createth its own destiny of power. And as the trial is intense r here, His being hath a nobler strength in heaven.** But though the time of manhood had not arrived, the two elder Camerons had at the very onset of their career — through the sun- ning influence of opportunity — given to view the promising shapings of their souls' formation. They had entered their seventeenth year, when their Sandhurst education was completed, tor with more consideration for taste and incli- ]iation, than prudence and judgment, their DAUOHTEES. 101 father's profession had been chosen for them ; and at that time a commission in an excellent cavalry regiment was for purchase. The Gene- ral made this known to the youths, declaring his willingness to obtain it for one of his sons, but at the same time announcing his inability to meet a similar expense for the other: an infantry commission must content the remain- ing brother. Then had come the generous strife between the brothers as to which was to receive this favour. Alick's two hours seniority was held up by the younger in support of his brother's claim. But Gerald's had stronger and more plausible arguments with which to win liis mother's support, and his friends' approval. He spoke of Alick's more delicate health and fragile appearance, and of the probable exposure to foreign climes, entailed upon an infantry officer, and finally he prevailed — for it was Gerald who had performed the mournful duty of following his young sister to 102 DAUGHTEKS. the grave — ^whilst Alick could but, in his dis- tant quarters in the Highlands, bind the black crape round his arm with a sorrowful counte- nance and silent tears. But for Gerald there was another fate in store. A short time after the Cameron's re- moval to Eastbourne, the General received an official recall to London, where he found that a staff appointment just vacant had been con- ferred upon him, it being also in his power to con- fer upon his son the secretaryship attached to it. A few weeks after, the General found it necessary to embark for Ireland, and he per- suaded Mrs. Cameron to accompany him, leaving the younger members of the family at Eastbourne with the Governess. Beachy Place was a pleasant mansion, situated on high, healthy ground, surrounded by a sloping park of about half a mile's walk from the sea. And how soon did the perfect freedom which they enjoyed — ^the delicious, invigorating breezes brace the elastic spirits of the young girls — DAUGHTERS. 103 restore the rose of happiness which the first bitter tears they had ever shed had washed from their cheeks — and as they bounded so lightly along the beach or cliff walks — or flew past on the ponies so kindly provided for their use by their noble landlord, with their smilino- faces, and merry voices ringing in the air, it might have been inferred that poor Carry was unmissed — forgotten. But it was not so. For what were those sudden pauses in the pulse of careless gaiety — in the beatings of their elated hearts, when even at its highest bounds but that power which dwelleth — " In that one poor thought alone She was— And she is flown," " We miss her when the morning calls As one who mingled in our mirth, We miss her when the evening calls A trifle wanted on the earth." No, poor Carry, you were not forgotten. And was the young debutante of that Lon» 104 DAUGHTERS. don season able to renew her childhood's zest — to appreciate those enjoyments as if she had never tasted the less unsophisticated pleasures of a ball and fete 9 Yes, if Lena's outward bearing might have made this doubtful to the stranger's eye, it was not because of any change cast over her by the late short but full seasoned taste of " woman's world ;" all that seemed passed away leaving no more definable impression on her mind and feelings than the remembrance of a dream when one awaketh. She was still as much the child as before — the little one in sim- plicity and innocence of thought and desire — and if she demonstrated less sensible marks of enjoyment in her present life — it was be- cause the late sorrow which had stricken the family, weighed longer and heavier upon her more sensitive nature. Besides — Lena in her youngest and most joyous days never shone forth with such elation of spirits as the graceful hoydens Annie and DAUGHTERS. 105 Janet. No — even then had she been the gentle guardian sister, to whom in her more timid, lingering course the little ones of the flock might cling for support and guidance — whilst the ruder, bolder spirits brushed on their careless, gleeful way. It was under such an aspect that Lena Cameron first attracted the notice of one who is destined to form a prominent feature in this narrative. It was on a rocky part of the beach that Lena was left some distance behind the party with the two youngest children ; the servant having been obliged to keep pace with the adventurous Minny lest she should fall into some mischief; the governess lingering still further in the back ground, beguiled by the interest of a book. The little boy and girl slowly proceeded on their way, with their tardily filled baskets of sea-side treasures in one hand, and by the other holding their sister — her delicate complexion F 5 106 DAUGHTERS. freshened by the breeze to the pinkest hue ever sea shell could boast — her fair hair un- curled, drooping in long tresses beneath her sable bonnet. With her little, dainty feet she was cautiously commencing the critical exploit of guiding the children over the slippery cluster of mud-covered rocks, when a brother rambler, who for some time had been seen in the distance, advanced close enough to cause him suddenly to slacken his pace, in order to gaze with admiring scrutiny on the chief figure of the group. He was a man apparently about thirty, with nothing very striking in liis appearance to draw forth from the observer any more particular comment than that he was gentlemanlike. It requires much scrutiny to discern the deep individuality wliich oftener exists in the characters of men of such like little demonstra- tion than ofttimes shews itself in those whose characteristics of good or evil, seem to float, as it were, on the surface of their countenance and bearing. DAUGHTERS. 107 And well that so it should be— for by the slow, but sure experience of our daily life, we gain too soon the knowledge of how constantly poor mortals make this earth bitter for one another— this sad and strange world, more ead and sorrowful — now that mankind may almost be seen to be di\aded into two classes — the persecuted and the persecutor — the op- pressed and the oppressor. But if by one com- prehensive glance could be revealed to human ken, all the extent of offence too often stored in one weak mortal heart for the torment and misery of his fellow men, how constantly should we shrink from those who daily cross our path or walk by our side; discerning as we should do, not merely the single wound- ing stone or grazing pebble — those petty, trivial injuries we see hourly, daily flung, wantonly, or in sport — or more self-deceiving still— in so called kindness, by the social, the domestic oppressor or persecutor on his doomed victims ; but that exceeding high mountain, that rock 108 DAUGHTEE8. of offence in its collected force would appear able in one fell fall to crush the hearts and happiness of the unfortunates o'er whom it hangs. But to those who see not as we do behind the scenes, the connection may not be discernable between this metaphoric digression and that gentlemanlike and unremarkable per- sonage, who having passed Lena and her charges, seemed certainly by no means to con- sider her as coming under the head of this last denomination — for long and lingering was the gaze he turned to send after her delicate and graceful figure. But though the stumbling of her little companions and the difficulty under w^ich he evidently saw her labouring, to eifect their safe convoy over the dangerous grounds, might have afforded him a legitimate excuse, under the score of common civility, for gratify- ing what might be imagined was his own in- clination by offering his assistance — the idea of so doing never seemed to occur to his mind 4*1 DAUGHTERS. 109 — and having gazed till he appeared satisfied, he turned and continued his way. From that day forth, rarely did the young Camerons leave the downs of Beachy without encountering this stranger in the course of their rides and walks* So often did this meeting recur, that at length it began to attract the particular atten* tion of the young party, " Lena !" exclaimed the quick witted Annie one day to her sister, " where have I seen that man's face before ?" " I cannot enlighten you, Annie," laughed Lena ; " in your dreams most likely." " Then it must have been in some very un- pleasant dream, good sister mine, for his face seems always connected with some disagree- able event," said Annie. But though Lena, in order, if possible, to relieve Annie's active mind by the elucidation of her indefinite recollections, did examine the irritating subject with more minuteness on 110 DAUGHTERS. their next meeting — ^the investigation seemed neither to have given her enlightenment, nor interest sufficient to cause her ever more to care to repeat it, or to allow " the man" to provoke such another deep blush as she had felt called to her cheeks, by the gaze of earnest, though not disrespectful scrutiny from the stranger's light blue eyes which had met her timid survey. But the sisters, with their fresh, childish curiosity, often discussed and commented on one, whose evident interest in them (of some sort or other) could not remain unobserved. He was now seen more frequently wan- dering in Beachy Park, and once was suddenly surprised leaning over a little gate opening from the ground therein. At length one day he even took the trouble of stopping the two younger children, who certainly never before seemed the object of his interest, and patting Cecil's head, called DAUGHTERS. Ill him a fine boy ; then as he was departing he suddenly turned as if the thought had just struck him, and enquired of the maid, in a low- voice, when General and Mrs. Cameron were expected home — His question answered, he passed on. 112 DAUGHTERS. CHAPTEE IX. " He says, he loves my daughter ; I think so too ; for never gaz'd the moon Upon the water, as he'll stand and read, As 'twere, my daughter's eyes." Winteb's Tale. " Well, Madam, of one thing I was always convinced," was the sage remark with which Mrs. Cameron was greeted the first morning after her return to Eastbourne, by her old and confidential servant Mrs. Maunsell — who acted in the capacity of lady's maid and house- DAUGHTERS. 113 keeper — " I was always convinced that there was a fate in marriage." Apropos to nothing this seemed to her mis- tress — except to the price of meat and poultry, which had been the chief subject of their conversation — but it was apropos to much that was passing in the housekeeper's mind, in the midst of her lamentations on the dearness of this, and the scarceness of that article of con- sumption ; relating even to a subject on which she was anxious to be the first to give her mistress a hint, knowing the interest she would take in it, though it did not come within her province thus to enlighten her lady. " Yes, ma'am," she continued, " if one was to go to the world's end — to ever so out of the way place, one's husband, or one that might be so, at least — if one had a mind — would be sure to start out of the ground — ^if it so could be." '^ My dear Maunsell, I hope that has not been your case," said Mrs. Cameron. " Mine, madam !" I was not alluding in any 114 DAUGHTEKS. way to myself — I am sure I have the interest of your family much more at heart than mine own ; but really, ma'am, if you'll excuse me, it's for certain Miss Cameron has made quite a conquest in this retirement." " Indeed, Maunsell," said Mrs. Cameron, with not a little earnestness, " and pray who is it?" ^ A gentleman, ma'am, of good property, from what I hear ; not of this part of course ; they say he's on a visit to a brother in the neighbourhood — and for certain he is always hankering about anywhere that he can possibly catch a glimpse of Miss Cameron — that has been clear to everybody — and if he didn't stop Sarah with the children the other day to ask when you and my master were expected home." " Have you any idea of his name ? what sort of a looking man is he ?" enquired Mrs. Cameron. *' He's as well looking a gentleman as you DAUGHTERS. 115 would wish to see, about twenty-eight, or perhaps a little older, I should say ; and as for his name, they don't seem to be quite sure of that, as he has nothing to do with the place ; he only rides over and spends his day in stroll- ing about for sea air — or something else now — as it seems. I did hear his name was Beachy, or something of the sort, but it is all Beachy here — Beachy this — and Beachy that — the people seem to have no other name in their brains." But Mrs. Cameron was not long kept in curiosity as to the rightful title of him, who, from the farther accounts of the younger girls, and the governess, seemed entitled to be classed under the head of Lena's admirer — though whether one to be encouraged and counte- nanced, could be but a matter of uncertainty. Mrs. Cameron had rejoined her family alone — The General having been detained in Ireland longer than she liked to remain absent from her children, and Gerald had proceeded to London on business for his father. 116 DAUGHTERS. She had returned with no very great elation of feeling concerning their prospects for the next few years. Mrs. Cameron now began, for the first time, to experience the weight upon her mind of grown up daughters. The lucrative advantages of the General's appointment must have counterbalanced any aversion she might have felt, at the somewhat out of the way quarter to which it doomed them for the most part of the next few years. When her children were young she had often spent, in far wilder sojourns, the happiest days of her life, but now, with a grown up daughter, it would be very different. Her pretty Lena, buried — out of the way of all those advantages she so coveted for her — this would be a perpetual source of annoyance — inimical to anything like contentment and en- joyment. Annie, for the next two years, would do very well — ^the less seen the better — and having DAUGHTERS. 117 no education mania, the governess could give her all the advantages necessary in that way — but Lena ! The anxious mother had resigned herself, but with no very cheerful resignation, to the frustration of those bright visions her active imagination had conjured up on her child's account. The day after Mrs. Cameron's arrival at Beachy Place, she was startled from a reverie, composed of some such meditations, by a ring at the hall door, soon followed by the entrance of a servant bearing a card, on which she read the name of " IVIr. Beauchamp." She mused for a moment in surprise. " Oh! ask Mr. Beauchamp to walk up," she then said to the servant, and Mr. Beau- champ was soon ushered into the room. In the son of the stately Lady Rachel, Mrs. Cameron beheld the sea-shore rambler — Lena's unknown admirer I Mrs. Maunsell had been right in her commu- nication. Mr. Beauchamp's resting place was. 118 DAUGHTERS. as he informed Mrs. Cameron, the rectory of a younger brother, who had a living in the neighbourhood; but it was his custom during these yearly visits to make daily excursions On horseback, and spend the greatest part of his time in rambling by the sea side. Mrs. Cameron remembered having thought the young Mr. Beauchamp, in whose company she had spent that short time about five years ago, rather repulsive than otherwise — but those five years had certainly worked a great im^ provement upon him. Now he was most courteous — almost empresse in his apparent desire to be agreeable, and place himself on the friendly footing with the family, which the connection of his father with the General might entitle him to claim. And though, when Mrs. Cameron spoke of his having probably met her children in their walks, he rather hurried over the subject, she could fancy that she discerned, certain hasty glances towards the door at every sound — some fidgety uneasiness as the time DAUGHTERS. 119 wore on, and no Miss Lena chose to make her appearance. On the contrary Lena had re- sumed her seat in the school-room, from which she was on the point of repairing to join her mother, when Cecil, who had been lurking in the passages, came in with the information, that the gentleman who they were always meeting, and whose name was Mr. Beauchamp, had gone into the drawing-room. " Ah !" was Annie's sudden exclamation, " Beauchamp ! was not that the name of that dreadful woman Mama took us to visit, a long time ago ? Those poor girls of hers — oh ! I have never foro;etten it — and now I know who that everlastingly appearing gentleman is — her son, who came in for a few minutes before we went." " Yes, you always said, Annie, that his face made you you think of something disagree- able," remarked Janet. " Shall you go and see him, Lena T " No, I thank you," Lena answered, " I do 120 DAUGHTERS. not wish to be made to think of anything disagreeable ; Mama will be able, I dare say, to entertain him without my assistance." So in quiet unconsciousness Lena resumed the occupation she had been before pursuing, though even Miss Manners, the governess, looked up, as . if she thought Miss Cameron ought, for some reason, to have repaired to the drawing- room. However, Lena remained in the school- room until the hall door had shut upon the disappointed Mr. Beauchamp, and then she very innocently returned to her mother, to be smilingly and significantly rebuked for thus keeping out of the way of twenty thousand a year. But, Lena, what will this one passive struggle avail you, if Mrs. Maunsell's marriage theory holds goods in your case — if the hus- band who was not in the full saloons and gay re-unions of London has found you out, in the sohtude of Beachy — amidst the shingles and rocks, of dull, secluded Eastbourne ? You must meet him again in your mother's presence. DAUGHTERS. 121 and be introduced ; there will be other visits from which you cannot always absent yourself. In your walks and rides you will soon have that stranger your constant, assiduous at- tendant, who, with a kind of irresistible au- thority, which, though not pleasing, you find no power to resist — will quickly assume over you an influence which you cannot shake off. In the shrubberies of Beechy there will be tete-a-tete walks — every opportunity will be afforded for frequent meetings — And how must all this end ? How indeed ? About a fortnight after Mrs. Cameron's re- turn, General Cameron being now in England, but stiU detained in London, Mr. Beauchamp, who for the last few days had been anxiously enquiring when the General might be expected, could wait no longer. Calling one morning and finding Mrs. Cameron alone, he spoke out — apologized for VOL I. G 122 DAUGHTERS. the perhaps abrupt disclosure, pleading the ardour and strength of his feelings, and pro- posed for the hand of the fair Lena. Mrs. Cameron had no great reason to be taken by surprise, nor to be electrified by any feeling but that of delight. Had she not at- tained the summit of her wishes? - Her daughter was sought by one of the richest commoners in England, and one, moreover, who could truly boast of being of the very best families. Yet when the mother had heard all, she sat as pale and agitated — tears raining fast from her eyes — as if she had been herself the wooed. " You will think me very weak," Mrs. Cameron at length said, after Mr. Beauchamp, with becoming consideration and patience, had awaited the recovery of her composure, " but a mother's feelings, on being placed for the first time in such a situation, must plead my excuse." A not ill pleased expression passed over Mr. DAUGHTERS. 123 Beauchamp's countenance at words which im- plied his present priority in placing her in that situation, and Mrs. Cameron continued — '^' For my part I can only say how flattering to my feelings is your proposition with regard to my dear child, and without delay I will write to her father, who I cannot but expect will look upon the subject in the same light — and then — dear Lena — " " Yes, Miss Cameron — " Mr. Beauchamp in- terrupted with some eagerness, rightly thinking that she was the first person whose opinion was most necessary to be gained in this matter, " when may I be allowed to see her — speak to her?" "Poor dear Lena!" Mrs. Cameron rejoined smiling through her still tearful eyes, "you must allow me to prepare her for so new an era in her existence — she is so young and timid." " Miss Cameron is eighteen I believe, is she not ? — a little timidity must be expected from all G 3 124 DAUGHTERS. young ladies on such occasions," Mr. Beau- champ remarked somewhat hastily. But Mrs. Cameron had no intention of being overruled or awed out of her determination by her incipient son in law — even though he was possessed of 20,000 a year, therefore she said with a smile — "No really Mr. Beauchamp I must maintain my maternal right upon such an occasion, and not allow you to speak to my dear girl until I have prepared her for that which cannot fail to be agitating, especially to such a novice in such matters as my Lena— to-morrow we shall expect to see you, and in the meantime I will write to the General." Mr. Beauchamp yielded with becoming gracious obedience to his destined mother-in law, and as if his speedy departure would tend to the speedier possibility of his return, imme- diately arose, shook Mrs. Cameron's hand wannly ; and with a lingering glance — as he passed towards the door — around the walla DAUGHTERS. 125 which contained his heart's idol — mounted his horse and rode away. Mrs. Cameron was left seated in the now quiet room, as if in a kind of dream, and with a certain doubtful feeling — strange to say — as to whether her dreams were pleasant or the re- verse — but she roused herself. Pleasant, oh yes ! — one of the richest commoners in the land! Her heart ran over with exhilaration as one bright image after another rose up full and clear before her imagination — but again there came a sudden re-action which left her only with a nervous beating heart. Her Lena was standing at a little distance, seemingly checked in her desire to approach and address her mother, by perceiving the state of dreamy abstraction into which she was plunged. But Mrs. Cameron starting on beholding her daughter, extended her hand and pronounced her name. Lena was in an instant by her side. 126 DAUGHTERS. " Sit down by me darling," she said, and with somewhat a startled countenance Lena obeyed — for there was boding significance she could not but discern in her mother's tone and whole expression. " Dear Lena, Mr. Beauchamp has just left me," Mrs. Cameron commenced. " Yes Mama," Lena at first answered quietly enough. But when her mother then paused, there seemed so much meaning in that pause that the young girl looked hastily up — became red, then pale — and was evidently frightened. *^ And can you guess at all, Lena, what was the object of his visit ?" Lena only looked still more scared and doubtful. "It was to confess his love for you, my child, and to propose for your hand," — Mrs. Cameron added. A cold shudder passed over Lena's frame and then bursting into a flood of quiet — silent tears, she leant her head on her mother's bosom. Mrs. Cameron suffered them to flow on unin- DAUGHTERS. 127 terrupteclly. It was no greater emotion than that for which she had been prepared — for had not she herself been agitated in the same manner by the disclosure ? what then must not be expected from her timid, sensitive child? After a short pause, Mrs. Cameron pro- ceeded. " I wept like you, Lena, when ]Mr. Beau- champ first made the communication — I scarce knew whether from joy or sorrow — for though it was a subject which a few days before I should have contemplated as one calcvilated to make me the happiest of mothers — yet to have to part with our dear child I — " " Oh ! Mama, we must never— never part !" was the sobbing exclamation, in tones of more passionate fervour than perhaps had ever been drawn from Lena's gentle lips. " Yet," Mrs. Cameron continued without noting the interruption, but by a tender pres- sure of her hand, " it would be foolish and 128 DAUOHTEKS. selfish indeed, to feel ought but joy at the opening of such bright and happy prospects for our child. Twenty thousand a year is a charming possession ; but that would be worse than nothing in our eyes, were not Mr. Beau- champ so good — so amiable— so tenderly at- tached — in short — so every way calculated, to make our darling happy — What more indeed could we desire, even we, who think her worthy of the best ?" " But Mama," interposed Lena " I have enough — quite enough already — I desire no more happiness, no more love, than I now Would Lena then, wish to be an old maid all her life ?" Mrs. Cameron playfully enquired, and Lena smiled faintly through her tears, but murmured — " I do not know. Mama, but — but — " *^ Dear Lena, do you dislike Mr. Beau- champ ?" This was a plain, and therefore, somewhat a DAUGHTERS. 129 critical style of questioning, to be hazarded on such an emergency, by one, under Mrs. Cam- ron's circumstances, and whether it were intended in sincerity to serve as a deciding point, is doubtful. True it is, that those little words, " yes," and " no," are certainly the most important to be learnt to speak with ]:)romptitude and de- cision ! Annie, if such a question had been put to her, would have quickly lifted up her saucy eyes and at once have answered " yes !" con- sidering the feeling wliich forbade her relishing the idea of becoming Mrs. Beauchamp, quite sufficient to be ranked under the head of dis- like without any further analyzation of its extent and force. And then how could Mrs. Cameron, whose chief maternal failing had consisted in the extreme of indulgence to her children's inclinations — how could she have pressed the point under such circumstances ? But Lena only trembled and hesitated ; dis- G 5 130 DAUGHTERS. like was too broad a word for her gentle soul to dare express. No, she could not say she disliked Mr. Beau- champ — ^he was very kind — and it was very flattering in him to wish to choose her out — but to leave her parents, brothers, sisters, home, for any one in the world — she really could not think of it without horror — she was so very happy as she was — she did not want to marry. And Mrs. Cameron — could she suffer her daughter to sacrifice her welfare, her prosperity on the shrine of family affection? — no, most certainly not : — so now she turned her efforts to the setting forth before the eyes of her home -sick girl, the merits of the stiU holier home of duties and affections, prepared for married women. What were the joys and affections of a daughter — a sister — compared with those of the wife and mother, that happiness which had been the portion of her own parents ? — yes theirs in full measure, notwithstanding all the cares DAUGHTERS. 131 and struggles attendant on an insufficiency of income. Then how perfect must be the felicity of those possessed of all that could make even their cup run over — pouring blessings on them- selves, and all that were dear to them ! Mrs. Cameron spoke and reasoned and des- canted on the subject, till painting the picture in the most glowing colours with her " too sub- duing tongue" something of her enthusiasm seemed to gild the fancy of the young girl, for her eyes so sad before, brightened — smiled at length through their dewy mist. Lena was so young — so young in heart — knew so little of the feeling generally requisite as the stepping stone to the joys and advantages just pictured by her ardent mother, that she was scarcely aware how completely it was now absent from her heart. No, even when Mrs. Cameron ventured, in the course of the discus- sion, upon another critical question — "Did you ever see any one, Lena, w ho you think you could love better than Mr. Beauchamp ?" she 132 DAUGHTERS. only blushed and veiled her eyes as a dun, vague shadow of a remembrance conjured up by the inquiry, hovered for an instant over her imagina- tion ; and a murmured " No, I think not !" settled the question. So the interview was finally ended by the entrance of some of the children — in much the same indefinite spirit in which it had been car- ried on ; that is to say, Mrs* Cameron allowed Lena to sit or walk — musing in pale and absent dreaminess, the rest of that day and evening — without troubling her more, by again bringing forward the subject ; only whispering as she embraced her on parting for the night — " I will write and tell him not to come to-morrow — not till the next day" — and Lena starting replied : " Oh, yes ! pray do P It was not without a little harmless feeling: of malicious pleasure — for she had confidence in the favourable termination of the affair — that Mrs. Cameron seized the opportunity thus DAUGHTERS. 133 afforded her, of preparing for her future son-in- law, this slight trial of his patience; her keen perception had not been slow of discerning some few symptoms of self-will in his nature, which it would be well to put under a little wholesome discipline. Mrs. Cameron knew this power would be scarcely exercised by her child, there- fore she would, in these days, take the reins into her own hands, for the breaking in, for her Lena's gentle spirit's guidance. She however merely wrote that her daugh- ter's timid feelings requiring further time for the consideration of Mr. Beauchamp's flattering proposal, she must postpone his visit till the next day. But this was quite sufficient to doom him to a miserable restless day — his mind filled with irritation towards Mrs. Ci^meron as the suspected cause of his suspense — and his brother the rector to the infliction of that most disagreeable companionship — a lover in all the fidgetty impatience of diyappointment and uncertainty; for as may be supposed, Mr. 134 DAUGHTERS. Beauchamp felt not much inclination that day for the rocks and shingles of Eastbourne. Mrs. Cameron wrote the same night to the General to announce the interestino- and im- portant event of the proposal, intelligence not quite unexpected, she imagined, by her husband, from her frequent hints and allusions relative to the admiration and attention which Lena had all along received from Mr. Beau- champ. She spoke of the affair, as one which, she seemed to take for granted, would be received by the General with the same sa- tisfaction as filled her own breast ; and there- fore mentioned that as a thing of course, Lena, after one day's mature consideration, was, to see her lover and answer for herself. The young girl was, as might naturally be ex- pected, timid and agitated on the subject, and she had purposely avoided, she said, bringing her to any decided avowal of her intentions and inclinations in the decision. DAUGHTERS 135 CHAPTER X, " In silence bow'd the virgin's head ; And if her eye was filled with tears That stifled feeling dare not shed, And changed her cheek from pale to red, And red to pale as through her ears, Those winged words like arrows sped, What could such be but maiden fears V The Bridk of Abydos. That awful day of reflection and considera- tion floated by silently and quickly, in like manner as these periods, big with import, very generally are apt to pass. Yet that some mystery hung over it, was 136 DAUGHTERS. not quite to be concealed from the lookers on ; for there wa« Lena's changed look and mien — and the hard to be concealed significance of Mrs, Cameron's aspect, especially the marked increase of anxious, earnest affection, in every word or look she addressed to her eldest daughter — the observing of all which, had caused not a little shrewd suspicion to float through the minds of Annie and Janet, long before the close of the day, which found them alone with their mother, who then, relying on their discretion, revealed to them the momentous secret of their sister's pro- The communication was received with all the girlish pleasure and elation with which the bare idea of a sister going to he married gene- rally fill such young minds. The wedding — the paraphernalia — the bride's-maids ! — all the delights accompanying such an occasion, pass- ing in array before their imagination. And then " Mrs. Beauchamp" was such a DAUGHTERS. 137 pretty name — it would sound so well — and Mr. Beauchamp — he, their Mama said, was a very charming man — tall and rather good looking ; not that they thought him very handsome — and Lena would be so very rich I — oh yes — they hoped she would accept him — it would be so delightful to go and stay with her at some beautiful place in the country. There was a sudden pause and change in Annie's countenance, and in her enumeration of the catalogue of deliojhts — a sudden dark- ness gathered over its bright animation ; for she remembered a certain country house, and with the thought, associations arose little sa- vouring of delight. " But Mama !" she exclaimed with a face of dismay, " that dreadful place — that terrible Lady Rachel !" " My dear Annie — what an epithet — ' dread- ful house' — why it is one of the finest places in England, and as for Lady Rachel, Lena is not going to marry her, even if she is ter- 138 DAUGHTERS. rible, as you call her. There would be few matches in the world, if people always looked too scrupulously to the husband's relations — let me beg of you not to put disagreeable ideas into Lena's head, or raise up any such hete noir, to turn her against this most advan- tageous prospect. If she marry Mr. Beau- champ, she will probably have very little to do with Lady Rachel." Thus argued Lena's mother. And had this dark idea, suggested by Annie, flitted across poor Lena's mind during this day of consideration. Was it one of the black shadows which scared her like some poor fluttering bird from this side to that, of the valley of decision into which she had been driven ? But whether the impression — pro- duced upon her mind by her visit to Beau- champ Towers had retained sufficient strength to weigh in the balance upon the present occasion — mattered little. The struggle soon seemed to cease — the poor bird to droop its DAUGHTERS. 139 wing, and settle timidly and unrepiningly under the shelter of resignation. The next day came, and Lena was in the drawing-room with her mother, after breakfast. She had not said " I will accept Mr. Beauchamp" — Mrs. Cameron still forbore bringing her child to any such extreme point appearing, rather, willing to rely upon this species of meek, patient courage — almost amounting to cheerfulness — which she fancied to behold upon the countenance of Lena — in the place of that trembling, nervous irresolution, which had troubled her all the preceding day — yet inwardly Mrs. Cameron felt not so fully con- tent. She knew not why, but her heart bled more, probably, than it would have done, if with tears and passionate protestations, she had heard her child declare her reluctance — if not her repugnance — to the act concerning which she was now called upon to decide. Yes ! Lena seemed as one who had yielded ; but whether because her repugnance was 140 DAUGHTERS. conquered, or that the known wishes of others had vanquished that disinclination, the mother might indeed well feel doubtful. But Mrs. Cameron strove to shut her eyes and heart against any such painful doubt — to all consideration save the delightful ad- vantages attendant upon the match now in question. 1^0 tete-a-tete, which might have given rise to a scene was afforded to them, for Annie came in to practise her music, and ^Irs. Ca- meron, in order to divert Lena's mind from a portion of the nervous expectation which she herself felt to such a painful degree, requested her to play duets with her sister. For the same reason, she had told Lena the day before, that Mr. Beauchamp would come probably after luncheon ; her belief in which assertion, enabled the poor girl, with tolerable composure, to pursue her occu- pation. But Mrs. Cameron on her part, had no idea DAUGHTERS. 141 of any such tardiness, and was but too sure that ^Ir. Beauchamp would not allow the sun to rise very high in the Heavens, ere he found himself on his way to Eastbourne. IVIrs. Cameron's ears having been for some time on the qui vive, heard immediately the clattering of the horse's hoofs on the approach, but the brilliant duet from the Somnambula caused the sound not to reach those of the per- formers ; the music being rendered still louder by the playful accompaniment of Annie's clear and rinsjinor voice. Mrs. Cameron's pen fell from her hand, and she inunediately arose, meditating how best to act. Lena looked all unconsciousness at that moment, of aught but the sweet sounds she was producing. The bell did not give the alarm, the servants happening to be in the hall. But soon ^Irs. Cameron heard the foot- steps approaching, and the cowardice she felt overwhelming her, decided her conduct. She hurried towards a door by which she 142 DAUGHTERS. knew Mr. Beauchamp would not enter, and casting a significant glance at Annie, who looked up at the moment, left the room. And then abruptly ceased the music. The sisters arose, for footsteps were now heard by them also, and the door being speedily opened, ad- liiitted Mr. Beauchamp. Annie hurriedly seized her music and made her escape, and poor Lena was left standing behind the instrument alone. Mr. Beauchamp hastened towards her with an earnest expression of countenance. The first sudden shock of this entrance being so extreme, was perhaps fortunate, causing Lena to feel less fright than bewilderment. She mechanically extricated herself from the unattainable position behind the piano, advanced to meet her suitor, and then listened in the same spirit (he having led her to a seat) to the first outbursts of a lover's eloquence. But soon Lena had returned to the full DAUGHTERS. 143 consciousness of her position — that Mr. Beau- champ was bending over her — pouring forth expressions of a character and nature so new to her, that her timid eyes sank beneath his gaze, and she shrank instinctively from them. Those who had previously known Mr. Beauchamp might have pictured him but as a cool, matter of fact lover, the character and language of his love only a little less cold and measured than his common nature, and speech ; a suitor more calculated to freeze than to excite any degree of warmth in the feelings of her whose hand he solicited. But this was far from being the case. Lena, ere she had listened long, was breathless and giddy with the whirl into which her brain seemed to be thrown by the sound of expres- sions of such eloquent fervour, which poured from the lips of her ardent lover. And when, having exhausted all he had to say upon the subject of his own feelings, he proceeded to 144 DAUGHTERS. enquire concerning hers — to ask earnestly and eagerly whether she also loved him — and not only that, but whether she loved him better than all the world besides, she felt that if inclination prompted her to utter a denial, all power — all courage to do so, had vanished — she could only murmur fearfully and breath- lessly, " Yes, yes," and she felt by the warm, kisses imprinted on her trembling hand that her fate was sealed. Mrs. Cameron waited with Annie in the room above — nervous — agitated — Annie also catching the infection, and looking as if some business of fearful import were transacting. At length the sound of Mr. Beauchamp's footstep, moving in the room below, seemed to indicate that the conference was over, and Mrs. Cameron descended with trembling limbs to join the pair. On entering, she saw Lena seated, pale and tearful, but with a faint, submissive smile upon her lips— her eyes bent down, as she examined, or seemed to be exa- DAUGHTERS. 145 mining, the contents of a small jewel-case she held in her hand. Mr. Beauchamp stood at a little distance with his back to the fire-place, watching her with a well pleased, complacent expression of countenance. Mrs. Cameron saw at once that all was ar- ranged in a satisfactory manner. Mr. Beauchamp advanced to meet her, and Mrs. Cameron giving him her hand, ex- tended the other to Lena, who instantly letting the case fall to the ground, glided to her mother's side, and as if some spell were broken, the next moment was weeping in the arms soon thrown around her. The paroxysm of agitation lasted for several minutes, Mrs. Cameron soothing poor Lena by caressing ex- pressions of tenderness. Mr. Beauchamp stood looking on this scene for the first few seconds with an air of be- coming toleration and sympathy. But soon he seemed to begin to weary, and become VOL I. H 146 DAUGHTERS. impatient of its duration, for he fidgetted, coughed several times, and finally advancing a few steps, stooped and picked up the fallen jewel-case, and having replaced the diamond bracelet which had been disarranged by the fall, he said in a slightly injured tone — " My first little tribute of affection seems to be but slightly regarded by Miss Ca- meron," Poor Lena looked up with a start, whilst Mrs. Cameron with a deprecating smile put out her hand to take from him the present ; but Mr. Beauchamp very gravely and reso- lutely waved her off and placed it in his beloved's own trembling hand, of which he at the same time took possession, and pressing it tenderly, said, looking at Mrs. Cameron with a look of triumph. " Mrs. Cameron this is mine now — " *^ It will be," Mrs. Cameron interrupted with a smile, " mine a little longer ; there- ^^^*i I shall take upon myself the privilege DAUGHTERS. 147 of sending away dear Lena for a short time, in order that we may have some conversa- tion together. Gro up stairs, my own dearest ; you will find Annie in my dressing-room." Lena not unwillingly obeyed ; she hastened to the dressing-room, where she found not only Annie but Janet, both of whom, on be- holding the conscious trembling confusion with which she appeared before them, after one curious, enquiring glance, greeted her with embraces and exclamations. " Oh dear, dear Lena, have you really said ^yes?' are you really to be Mrs. Beauchamp? oh charming ! how glad our brothers will be — and Papa what will he say ? — and the wedding how delightful ! — and you will let us come and stay with you, very often — and you ^vill come and see us — we shaU be always together," And as poor Lena sat between them, half weeping half smiling, overpowered by their animation, their attention was attracted, by the jewel case, grasped unconsciously in her hand. H 3 148 DAUGHTERS. " And what is this ?'^ Janet exclaimed. " Oh Annie, only look ! a diamond bracelet, how beautiful! And, did Mr. Beauchamp already give you this ? what a rich, generous man he must be ? do you not love him very very much Lena?" " Oh yes — I do not know — oh do not ask me any thing about him now, dear girls !" and Lena wept tears, unmingled with smiles. " Oh dear Lena, I am sure you will love him very much," Annie said caressingly ; I dare say people always cry, when they are going to be married, but I am sure, any one who loved me, S3 well as Mr. Beauchamp loves you, at least so Mama says " " And gave me such beautiful presents ! " Janet interrupted, as she clasped admiringly the superb bracelet on her slender wrist. In the mean time, a very satisfactory inter- view, took place in the drawing-room, between Mrs. Cameron and Mr. Beauchamp. The fervent lover, had subsided into the com- DAUGHTERS. 149 posed, gentlemanly suitor. He touched very slightly on pecuniary matters, evidently seem- ing, to prefer awaiting the arrival of General Cameron, who Mrs. Cameron hoped, would speedily make his appearance. " And what will Lady Rachel say to this im- portant business?" Mrs. Cameron enquired in the course of the conversation. " My mother," was his somewhat haughty reply, " even were it possible to find any cir- cumstances objectionable in the step, has little right, I should imagine, to give any adverse opinion upon a subject, in which I am, as in all other matters, in which my feelings and incli- nations are alone concerned, entirely my own master ." And then more gently he continued — " Miss Cameron will be, I am sure, a daughter-in-law as charming as the most ex- acting person could desire to receive into her home." " Her home !" mused Mrs. Cameron. " Lady 150 DAUGHTEKS, Rachel — will she continue to reside with yon after your marriage ?" she then with some hesi- tation inquired. " It has always been so understood," Mr. Beauchamp answered decidedly, and Mrs. Cameron did not like, at that moment, to press the subject further. The interview was terminated by the an- nouncement of luncheon. Lena did not appear, but Mr. Beauchamp partook of it, playing Vaimahle with great success, to his future young sisters and brother-in-law — ^then, as he did not seem inclined to depart, without again seeing his beloved, Mrs. Cameron thought it best, to propose a walk, in which they might all join, and yet, leave the pair, to the enjoy- ment of a tete-a-tete. So Lena — whose head ached sadly, and who would fain have been excused — was told the air would do her good, and was persuaded to put on her bonnet ; she went down shyly and timidly, and was greeted tenderly, by Mr. DAUGHTERS. 151 Beauchamp, who drew her arm within his; and iVIrs. Cameron and the children having pre- ceded them, they slowly pursued their way. We will not intrude upon the lovers' colloquy nor question, whether Lena would not gladly have hastened her companion's footsteps, and joined the merry party in advance. The fresh air however probably tended to re- vive her courage and spirits — ^Ir. Beauchamp too was all considerate kindness — and what amiable, gentle, heart like hers, can long feel ungrateful, under such soothing influences ? — Indeed Lena looked quite blushing and happy when they at last mingled with the rest of the party. On their return to the house, Mr. Beau- champ was forced to take his leave — and thus, this first nervous, critical part of the business, was happily concluded, to the no small relief of Mrs. Cameron- Lena's headache soon returned, and she was persuaded by her mother, to go to bed — having 152 DAUGHTERS. caresses and expressions of tenderness and gra- titude, first poured upon her — wringing from ber aiFectionate heart an affirmative to the question, of whether she also was not as happy, as her proud and much gratified mother ? Daughters. 153 CHAPTEE XL *' Marriage is a matter of more worth, Than, to be dealt in by attorney-ship." Shakspbare's King Henry VI " Too beautiful is home, A home of gentle voices and kind eyes ! And I, the lov'd of all, On whom fond blessings fall From every lip— oh ! wilt thou rend such ties Mrs. Hemaxs That night, just as IVIrs. Cameron was on the point of retiring to rest, to her no small delight she heard a carriage drive to the door, and hurrying into the hall, soon greeted her hus- band and son. H 5 154 DAUGHTERS. Eagerly she drew the General into the drawing room, impatient to expatiate upon the event, the rumour of which she rightly supposed had thus hastened his re- turn." Gerald, who followed them, was the first to open the subject. " Well mother !" he laughingly exclaimed as soon as the door was closed, " you have ac- tually found Lena a husband ?" " Yes, Gerald, is it not channing ?" And Mrs. Cameron looked at her husband, expect- ing from him similar congratulations ; but she was disappointed by seeing his countenance only expressive of anxious gravity. " My dear Laura," he said, " pray let me hear more of this business of Lena's — I started as soon as possible after receiving your letter, although forced to leave some affairs unsettled. It has gone no further, I trust ?" *^ No further than what, Alick ?" exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. *' Mr. Beauchamp, as I told DAUGHTERS. 156 you, proposed the day before yesterday, and this morning Lena saw and accepted him. Really you look," she continued laughing, *' as if this was the most fatal, instead of the most fortunate occurrence — as if dear Lena had accepted a scampish young Ensign with next to nothing, rather than the most respec* table and estimable Mr. Beauchamp with twenty thousand a-year.'' " I wonder," the General replied very gravely, and with a shade of displeasure on his brow, " that you did not wait till I could be on the spot, before you allowed any step so decisive to take place. I know very little personally of the man," General Cameron con- tinued with some warmth, " and do not care a straw about his twenty thousand a-year, or any thing else, until I have ascertained that I shall approve of him as a husband for Lena in other respects. Besides, the girl herself — I cannot believe that she cares a fig about him ; 156 DAUGHTERS. she is too young to take a fancy in such a devil of a hurry." " My dear Alick, this is too absurd ; and why should you fancy Lena does not care for Mr. Beauchamp ? I can assure you her ac- ceptance of him was entirely her own act. I did not even give my opinion on the subject, after first laying the proposal before her, for consideration." " WeU really if she like him," chimed in Gerald, " it would certainly be a capital thing. Such a rich fellow ! upon my word it would be advantageous to us all." " Exactly so, Gerald," said Mrs. Cameron approvingly, " and really under our circum- stances — such a number of daughters — it would be ridiculous to persuade your sisters to wait till they were passionately in love, before committing such a necessary act as matrimony." Until very late that night, Mrs. Cameron DAUGHTERS. 157 continued to descant so ably on the merits of the subject, that the General, who was but too apt to be easily worked upon by the eloquence of his wife — whom he considered perfection in every way — was persuaded to look more brightly and contentedly on the business. His mind, however, could not be quite at ease until he had ascertained, as he expected to do, by a single glance at Lena's counte- nance, her sentiments on the subject. When therefore on rising the next morning, and being acquainted with the arrival of her father, his young daughter, with conscious, trembling haste, flew to meet him, the General, after tenderly embracing her, held her from him, and gazing in her face, enquired with a fond, earnest smile — " Why, Lena, what is all this I hear about you ?" and as she again hid her face, covered with conscious blushes, on his bosom, he said in an anxious tone — 158 DAUGHTERS, " Do you really wish it Lena — do you really love him child ? Kemember it is not too late — tell me the truth — exactly what you feel upon the subject." " What — is your father persuading you to give up Mr. Beauchamp, Lena, in order to vegetate with him in the wilds of Ireland ?" interrupted Mrs. Cameron, who entered at that moment. " Does not papa wish me to marry Mr. Beauchamp ?" asked Lena, hastily looking up with an expression which might have passed either for pleasure or alarm. " I wish you to do exactly what you think will contribute to your happiness my dear child. If you think that a marriage with Mr. Beauchamp will accomplish such a desirable end, it would, indeed, be selfish in me to oppose a measure which is so truly advan- tageous ; but it seems to me that it has all been settled with rather too much precipita- tion. Perhaps," he continued, looking affec- DAUGHTERS. 159 tlonately at his wife, " I might have imagined that the very natural wishes of your dear mother might have in some degree influ- enced a good and dutiful daughter." " Your father thinks, Lena, that it was by my persuasion that you accepted Mr. Beauchamp," Mrs. Cameron exclaimed in a slightly injured tone. " Mama persuade me — oh, papa!" said Lena looking up with a sweet expression of re- proachful surprise, " she would never persuade me to take any step important to my future happiness against my inclination. No, it was entirely of my own free will that I accepted Mr. Beauchamp," she added with a slight sigh. " And you do not repent having done so : you feel no wish to draw back now ?" anxiously enquired the General. Lena paused for a moment in breathless thought, then with a sort of nervous haste 160 DAUGHTERS. murmured " No, up !" and Her father saw no reason remaining, why he should not be per- fectly satisfied on the subject. Men are much more easily believed on such points than women. Little practised them- selves in doing violence to their own feelings or inclinations, they trust more to the state- ments of the lips upon such matters, and are slow to question the cheerful readiness with which women often sacrifice the dearest hopes and feelings of their hearts. When, therefore, Mr. Beauchamp visited Beechy Place that day, he found most un- expectedly his future father-in-law there to receive him. The General was as cordially and favorably disposed towards him as he could be towards any suitor of his dearly loved daughter. Whom he did not feel at all prepared so soon to lose. Indeed self-love, if it were possiblethat such a feeling could find place in the heart of so DAUGHTERS. 161 ardent a lover, was in a fair way of being humbled by perceiving how much more in the light of a favour conferred, than received — the father seemed to deem the bestowing upon him, his portionless daughter. When pecuniary matters came under dis- cussion, all went, coulevr de rose, for from that most trying ordeal Mr. Beauchamp passed with flying colours, pro\ang himself to the General's fastidious ideas — a perfect gen- tleman — neither vulgarly bombastic, nor nig- gardly cautious — with cheerful unconcern laying before him his liberal proposition on the score of settlements which his means made so feasible. The General also, after beholding the en- gaged couple together, had little cause for dis- quiet or doubt. Lena'sgentle nature could scarcely be expected to compete with her lover's fervour and absorp- 162 DAUGHTERS. tion, and his conduct was certainly an extreme with which there was no finding fault. That poor Lena was overpowered at times by the devotion of the exigeant lover, who for the first week of their engagement was almost continually passing his days at Beechy Place, was but too evident ; for though she seemed passively — nay, even cheerfully, to de- vote to him her time and attention — his de- parture generally left her pale and wearied. Sometimes she might be seen hastening, as from some overpowering task, to the refreshing diversion of her little brother and sisters' in- nocent affection and caresses, from which in her lover's presence she seemed strictly divided, and once when alone with them on a similar occasion, she had wept passionately, as if her heart would break. But she ever received Mr. Beauchamp with a smiling countenance, or if less cheerful in his presence than her wont, a remark from DAUGHTERS. 1 63 him to that effect, would immediately rouse her to exertion. At the close of that week the expected letter arrived from Lady Rachel on the subject of her son's marriage. Considering the character of the writer, it was tolerably gracious and complimentary — speaking in polite terms of her approval of her son's choice, and expressing a hope that a speedy opportunity might be afforded to her, of an introduction to her future daughter- in-law. This hope di'ew forth an invitation from the Camerons that Lady Rachel should visit them at Beechy Place, and Mr. Beau- champ was the bearer of the letter to his mother, it being necessary that he should re- pair to Beauchamp Towers previous to pro- ceeding to London on necessary business rela- tive to the coming event. For a fortnight, therefore, with the excep- 164 DAUGHTERS. tion of the daily letters exacted by her lover, on their parting, Lena was left at liberty, to be once more the happy, disengaged daughter and sister. DAUGHTERS. 165 CHAPTER XII. Nothinir now there needs But fix the day, and draw the marriage deeds." DlTE. Amongst the friends and relatives to be apprised of the event in prospect, the Duchess of Stratheden was of course one of the first in the list, and of the congratulations in return, none proved so sincerely and warmly sympa- thizing as were her Grace's expressions of joy upon the occasion. She knew so well 166 DAUGHTERS. how anxious Mrs. Cameron was on the subject of her daughters, and truly it was of the utmost importance that girls so slen- derly provided for, should marry well. The Duchess mentioned her intention of shortly joining the party at Beechy Place wliich the Duke insisted upon the Camerons continuing as their residence till the time of their departure for Ireland, which was to be immediately after the celebration of the marriage. Her Grace also begged that they would not scruple if desirable to invite Lady Rachel, and to assure her lady- ship of the pleasure the Duke and herself would feel in making the acquaintance of herself and son beneath their own roof. This polite message was duly conveyed to Lady Rachel, but she — either too scrupulous or too proud to accept an invitation on such terms, declined it — infor- ming her future connections of her intentions of soon affording herself an opportunity of meeting them, by ^dsiting her younger son at his parsonage. DAUGHTERS. 167 At the end of a fortnight therefore the Came- rons were apprised of the intended arrival of Mr. Beauchamp, and the very next morning, when they only expected a visit from the former, a carriage with post horses drove up to the house. Never perhaps did visiters create more nervous dismay than that which over- powered the whole party when it was ascer- tained that it was the formidable Lady Rachel, who had thus taken them by surprise. Poor Lena shook like an aspen leaf — and Mrs. Cameron judged it expedient to send her from the room to recover herself, previous to appearing before her formidable future mother- in-law. The general hastened to receive Lady Rachel, who entered, followed by her son and eldest daughter. Cold and stately as ever was her bearing — however with tolerable graciousness she apolo- gized for the breach of etiquette which brought her thus unexpectedly before them, and which she 168 DAUGHTERS. added must be attributed to her son's great em- pressement to present Miss Cameron to her in the present position of his affianced bride. She keenly glanced around the room as if to ex- press her expectation of Lena's presence, whilst Mr. Beauchamp immediately enquired in a tone of surprise, whether she were not acquainted with their arrival ; and when Mrs. Cameron ex- cusing herself to Lady Kachel for going in person to seek her daughter, on the plea of the timidity which might require some encouragement on her part, to prepare her for this unexpected meeting — Mr. Beauchamp followed her from the room, and requested that he might see Lena before she appeared before his mother. Pale and trembling therefore the young girl was soon conducted by Mrs. Cameron, to the apartment into which her lover had been shown. Poor Lena ! — the interval that had passed since the departure of Mr. Beauchamp, had been a period, during which, the congratulations pouring in on every side — the exhilaration of her DAUGHTERS. 169 own family— the praises ever sounded in her presence, upon her intended, and above all, the tender kindly intercourse kept up between them by letter—wliile at the same time she was exempt from the exigeante thraldom which his society ever entailed, had given tone to her spirits and had enabled her to look upon her position, in the bright light in which others viewed it — she had even brought herself to contemplate with some feeling of pleasure her intended's return ; and even now, no doubt, attempted to interpret her want of any such symptoms, to the coun- teracting arrival of his mother. But Mr. Beauchamp required this assurance to be guaranteed by her own explanation of the nervous and little joyous demeanour with which she appeared before him. "Lena!" he said, gazing keenly into her face, as her pale lips strove to falter her greeting in return for the tender meeting on his part, "you look more frightened than overjoyed at seeing me again." YOL, T, I 170 DAUGHTEKS. "Oh ! no, I am very glad to see you again, but I own I am rather nervous at the thoughts of meeting Lady Rachel." "But why?" Mr. Beauchamp enquired, " have they described my mother to you, as so very terrible and disagreeable ?" he added in an offended tone, and then again proceeded gently but gravely. — "I assure you she is very kindly disposed to- wards you Lena — and you need not fear her — nay ! it is very necessary that you, who are to live with her henceforth as a daughter, should love her as your mother; will you try to do so Lena?" " I will try to love her as yoar mother," said Lena, in a quick and rather more decided manner than was her wont. " I can never," she added, the colour rising vividly to her cheeks, "love any one as my own dear mother." Mr. Beauchamp looked slightly sui-prised on hearing this first assumption of self-will on the DAUGHTERS. 171 part of his gentle love, but he only said, " When a woman leaves her paternal home, she must learn not only to love her husband, but to cleave also to her husband's relatives." Then assuming a more gallant tone and character, than this lecturing seemed to represent, he continued, pressing her hand affectionately — "But I am keeping my mother waiting to behold you, and am all impatience myself — ^now that I have had the pleasure of seeing you for a few moments alone — to present my dearest Lena to her. I have also a sister here, with whom you must renew your acquaintance." And drawing Lena's arm within his, he con- ducted her to the drawing room. Lady Rachel as soon as she heard the door open, turned her quick sharp eyes towards it— and when Lena appeared leaning on her son's arm, her glance, like lightning flashed over her with its scrutinizing penetration. But so young and gentle in appearance was the fair girl— that cold and utterly impenetrable I 3 172 DAUGHTEKS. indeed would have been the heart, which had not softened towards the young creature. Even Lady Kachel's austere countenance gradually assumed an expression of satisfaction and approval, when, having risen and stretched forth her hand with gracious condescension, Lena received it with a submissive tearful smile, and a glance almost expressive of supplication towards one whom she might — poor girl ! have ' indeed felt was from henceforth to hold such influence over her destiny and happiness. " Miss Cameron," said her Ladyship, " I am happy to make your acquaintance — so young as you were when I last saw you, I may call this my first introduction — I must at the same same time congratulate you on your prospect of happiness, which — though his mother, I ven- ture to say my son is calculated to confer upon his wife — It may be too premature to express, from personal knowledge, my approval of his choice, but with the exterior I can have no fault to find." DAUGHTERS. 173 And again her eyes travelled over Lena from head to foot. "And from report," she continued, "Ihave been led to believe, that the mental qualities are accordant," and Lady Eachel stooped and kissed the fair meek brow. "Miss Beauchamp," she then exclaimed, all the natural severity and domination of her nature returning to her tone and manner — " Come and embrace your future sister-in- law, whom I shall expect to see treated by every member of our family with the respect and consideration due to her position, as your brother's affianced wife." Miss Beauchamp, who on her mother's rising, had done the same, now came forward and embraced her lovely sister-in-law elect, with more signs of feeling than might have been ex- pected from her constrained or sullen appear- ance. Miss Beauchamp was a tall — somewhat hand- some girl, had it not been for the unnatural 174 DAUOHTERS. restraint which characterized the expression of her countenance. She was in short to all ap- pearance, only one of the miserably cowed vic- tims of Beauchamp Towers, described in former pages — grown out of the age of cropped hair and gingham frocks— and with them, a little also out of the outward power of shewing a gracious endurance of the maternal tyranny of her childhood. Lena returned this sisterly embrace in a manner which spoke gratitude for its warmth, and the girls' hands remained within each others' till Lady Rachel — who had looked with an expression something resembling jealous im- patience, of the manner in wliich her daughter had carried out her injunctions — coldly invited Lena to sit down by her side ; Miss Beauchamp returned to her seat and resumed her impene- trable manner. The conversation then became more general, and lasted till luncheon was an- nounced, at which as usual the younger mem- bers of the family joined the party. DAUGHTERS. 175l Curious were the glances cast by Annie and Janet on the bugbear of their remembrance, as she sailed in amongst them — noticing the young ones but by a cold examining glance, and bending of the head ; when seated opposite to them at the tabl«, they were named to her by Mr. Beauchamp as his future sisters-in-law. And still more curiously, did the young Camerons look at Miss Beauchamp ; for though now as a grown up young lady, she was neces- sarily divested, of some of those signs of con- spicuous degradation which had so strangely excited their indignation and compassion, by her silence, or the severe and coldly astonished glances any attempts to transgress its bounds drew upon her, from her mother, it was evident that she was far from disenthralled from durance vile. The conversation was strictly confined to the three elders ; Mr. Beauchamp devoting himself entirely to Lena, and the chicken and jelly, of which they partook side by side. But 176 DAUGHTERS. Gerald with boylike malice, speedily made an attempt to break the spell of awe, which first seemed to bind the spirits of the young party —and soon by his exertions, some lively sallies began to be exchanged between him and Annie, and a little chattering and laughing, to be ventured upon by the little ones ; which once began and encouraged, by their father's playful participation, were scarcely to be retained by the scandalized glances of cold astonishment, which Lady Kachel laimched from one to the other of the offenders. But T^atever general impression, this con- duct might have given her, of the family with which she was about to connect herself, concerning that member, towards whom her most favourable opinion was most important, her sen- timents were thus expressed during their drive home — ^' Lionel I am pleased with Miss Cameron — with her gentle modest demeanour — how she has escaped the influence of the HI judged DAUGHTERS. 17^ system of education, by which total freedom from subordination and proper constraint, has been but too e\ddently engendered in her brothers and sisters — is a miracle ! — But as far as I can judge — and I am not often wrong in the opinions which I form — Miss Cameron is calcu- lated not only to make you the obedient and duti- ful wife you have a right to expect, but is one whom I can also admit into familiar intercourse with my daughters — without fear of those prin- ciples of perfect submission being undermined, which I have and ever will maintain, as long as they remain under my authority ; may she prove to them a pattern and example of meekness and propriety of conduct." " Lena is indeed every thing that can be wished for by the most exacting person," Mr. Beauchamp rejoined, in a tone which seemed to imply, that he had been all along perfectly sa- tisfied with the discrimination and wisdom which had directed his choice ; whilst there might have been discerned—as soon as the severe 5 I 178 DAUGHTERS. and personal glances Lady Rachel had turned upon her daughter, at the concluding words of her speech — were withdrawn, the slightest possi- ble elevation of the young lady's shoulders — an almost imperceptible curling of her lips express- ing as it were the words — '* Poor unfortunate !*' DAUGUTEES. 179 CHAPTER XIIL My soul aches, To know, when two authorities are up, Neither supreme, how soon confusion May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take The one by the other. siiAKSPEARES Coriolatius, " Well Lena, Lady Rachel seemed very much pleased with her daughter-in-law ; how very affectionate and gracious she was in her manner, to you my dearest !" remarked Mrs Cameron after her guests had departed. 180 DAUGHTERS. " I should hope so, indeed," said the Ge- neral ; " do you think I would allow Lena to marry any man, whose mother presumed to be any thing but kind and gracious to her?" ** But, dear Lena," her mother continued, " you must not be too timid and submissive before Lady Rachel — you must remember that when you are Mrs. Beauchamp, you must assert your own dignity and rights as a married woman, and particularly will this be requisite if Lady Bachel live with you, as she is at first to do. Her Ladyship will take advan- tage — as in such cases mothers-in-law are apt too willingly to do — of any want of energy, or spirit, and self-assumption in their son's wife, to maintain the authority and pre- cedency they have before exercised in that son's establishment — nay, their influence even over the husband himself." Poor Lena ! her mind glanced hopelessly over such a prospect — she, endeavouring to DAUGHTERS. 181 Strive successfully, under such clrumstances, with a Lady Rachel !— and the General re- marked — " Oh of course there will be some definite arrangement made, as to the respective situa- tions Lena and Lady Rachel are to hold, if a united establishment continue to be the plan." " I should get off that part of the busi- ness if I were you, Lena," Gerald exclaimed. But Lena only said — " Oh no ! Lady Rachel has always lived with her son. I should not like to be the means of separating them — mdeed I could not propose it— I dare say we shall do very well together." But neither the General nor Mrs. Cameron could as easily satisfy their minds on the subject. Alone together, they discussed the matter with no little anxiety. Mrs. Cameron in particular, with tears de- clared her aversion to the thoughts of her too 182 DAUGHTERS, gentle child being cast under the domineering influence of Lady Rachel, and subjected to the unavoidable yielding of importance of posi- tion, which such a plan would thereby entail upon her. General Cameron gently pointed out to his wife, that this present anxiety was one of the ill consequences of the undue haste with which she had allowed an event of such importance — one in which her daughter's happiness was so strictly involved — to be arranged — and he rather alarmed her by declaring his determi- nation to see every thing brought to a satis- fatory understanding — even to break off the marriage itself, should that not be the case. But no steps to that effect could be set on foot till after the departure of Lady Ra- chel. She remained about a week in the neigh- bourhood, during which time daily visits were exchanged between the two parties. DAUGHTERS. 183 Lena frequently passed hours alone at the Parsonage, and was even taken by her Lady- ship tete-a-tke drives, when Miss Beauchamp was permitted to ride out with her brother. During these excursions. Lady Rachel ever treated her with the most gracious kindness. She might almost have seemed desirous of obtaining an influence over her daughter-in- law's aftections. And this would have been flattering to Lena's feelings, had it not been at the ex- pense of another's, and as she sometimes feared, at the risk of drawing upon her the dislike of her future sister-in-law, by the praises and invidious comparisons of which she was made the object. And Lena, who would fain have become better acquainted with Miss Beauchamp, was sui'prised at discovering how completely Lady Kachel seemed to discoun- tenance any attempts at greater intimacy and confidence between them. To Lena's parents her Ladyship was civility 184 DAUGHTERS. itself. Indeed towards the General she even seemed inclined to bend into something like friendly and easy intercourse. Between the two ladies, there might have been discerned more of mistrust and constraint. It could not escape Mrs. Cameron's per- ception that she was looked upon with no great cordiality by Lady Rachel. But this did not so much trouble her, as something she discovered in the demeanour of her future son-in-law — a cold keeping back, as it were, in his manner towards her, which caused her to draw in a little from those frank, familiar terms she had at first attempted to establish between them for Lena's sake ; for she was as independent in spirit as her husband. Poor Mrs. Cameron ! she was beginning to think that after all, it was not quite such unmixed happiness, marrying a daughter. The event which she had so long antici- pated with such delight, was now within her DAUGHTERS. 185 grasp, and how did she feel ? Often very much inclined to repent having so warmly forwarded the suit of a man she began to dislike. But then, again, she brought the bright side of the picture before her mind — she looked upon the splendour and advantage of the match — Ireland and banishment were words ever repeated to spur her on — ^her beautiful child buried alive, and wasting all her first bloom — and then the constant refrain, that it was so very desirable that she should marry her daughters ! It was a comfort to Mrs. Cameron to oe able to pour forth her doubts and misgivings into the friendly ear of the Duchess of Stratheden, who arrived at Beechy Place a day or two previous to the departure of Lady Rachel, and in the bitterness of her spirit, she even felicitated her friend on having no daughters. " See, dear Cecilia," she would exclaim, after having discussed the subject in its 186 DAUGIITERS. gloomiest form, " how the greatest pleasure I have anticpated from my children is em- bittered." But the Duchess, whatever might be her real impression of her friend's future son-in- law, took care to display no feeling but that of approbation, and endeavoured to give the best aspect to the affair ; treating even the high mightiness of the haughty Dowager more as a matter of amusement than annoy- ance. She was, however, far from discourag- ing the plan of an attempt being made, to spare the gentle Lena the prospect of Lady Rachel's perpetual society. Mr. Beauchamp remained at the Rectory after his mother's departure. The day of the marriage was yet to be fixed. It was to be as early a one as the lawyers would permit, for no longer than another month could the Genral be spared from his post in Ireland. Therefore on Mr. Beauchamp presenting himself at Beechy DAUGHTERS. 187 Place, one morning, and during a private interview with the General on other mat- ters of business, begging to be told the day on which he might be permitted to claim the hand of his affianced, the General in a tone of sadness, and with a sigh which could not be repressed, answered — " I think, then, that about the last day of the approaching month — October — must be the latest time to which the event can be postponed, as I must then start for Athlone. But, my dear Beauchamp, there is still one point on which Mrs. Cameron and myself have decided on the expediency of speaking to you. It would have been better, perhaps, to have done so before, for it is a subject of some delicacy ; but you must forgive us, in consideration of our great anxiety for our child's happiness." " My dear sir," exclaimed Mr. Beauchamp, *' pray explain yourself — I should have ima- gined that you had been already well assured 188 DAUGHTERS. of my ardent desire to do every thing to con- tribute to the felicity of your daughter." " It is on the subject of the intended plan of Lady Rachel's constant residence with you after your marriage that I wish to speak," General Cameron continued. Mr. Beauchamp looked up quickly. " Now to speak plainly," continued the Ge- neral, " I have from experience remarked, that arrangements of that description never per- fectly answer. With the best intentions and the most favourable dispositions for such a union of interests, perfect domestic happiness and unanimity are seldom found to be the consequence. However, in the present in- stance, with so perfectly amiable and yielding a disposition as Lena's, I fear not for any breach of amity between the parties ; but that she might be likely to allow herself too easily to sink into a more passive abjugation of positive importance, than is right or proper for one in her position." DAUGHTERS. 189 " Is it then your desire, General Cameron^ that this arrangement, of which, from the first, you were informed, should be broken through ? I think, indeed," Mr. Beauchamp added, with somewhat of haughtiness, " that this point should have been before dis- cussed." " You misunderstand us," intei-posed Mrs. Cameron, " we only wish for our own satis- faction, to understand exactly every point which concerns our child, and I am sure you will find it add much to your own future com- fort, if some definite conditions are drawn out, as to the manner in which your joint establish- ment is to be regulated. Whether it be into the hands of your wife, or your mother you purpose to commit the chief reins of govern- ment ?" Mrs. Cameron continued with a smile, wishing if possible to place the discussion on an amiable and playful, rather than a business- like and serious footing. " I should have imagined," Mr. Beauchamp 190 DAUGHTERS. answered coldly, " that was a point which might have been easily and sufficiently settled hereafter between the parties whom it con- cerned ; but I shall be happy, as it seems ne- cessary, to explain myself further on the sub- ject, and first premise that my mother — having been in a most unaccountable manner, left by my father, unprovided with the usual Dower House, and with a jointure, which, though ample, was far from sufficient for the separate maintenance of herself and family, in the style and comfort to which she had ever been ac- customed through life — in consequence of these circumstances, I, as it was only proper in a son, pressed on her my home — offered that she should make it hers as long as it pleased her to retain it — certainly neglecting to pro- vide for any such contingency as the present, or rather forgetting that any might possibly arise — not imagining that a wife might briilg forward objections to such an arrangement — or the friends of a wife I ought to say. For Miss DAUGHTERS. 191 Camer9n," he continued with a softened tone and expression, which rather smoothed the feelings which Mr. Beauchamp's rising haughtiness of manner was beginning to kindle within the Ge- neral's breast — " as for Miss Cameron, by her, I am tempted to believe, no such objection will be interposed." " No, Beauchamp ; Lena is too young — too inexperienced — too amiable, we may add, to have any such fears and pre-visions," the Ge- neral added ; " for that very reason it is more our duty to supply their place, and you must be aware if you consider without preju- dice the subject, that our objections and mis- givings are not without foundation. Yes," continued General Cameron, " I will continue to maintain my opinion, and declare that I would, with more comfort, see a daughter of mine become the mistress of a far more hum])le home, than the joint ruler, under such circumstances, of a palace." Mr. Beauchamp paused for a moment be- 192 DAUGHTERS. fore proceeding, and then, as if with an effort to master any further manifestation of displea- sure, quietly said — " I should have thought, for my part, that to be placed for the first few years of her married life, in a situation which — whilst ensuring to Lena the respect and consideration due to her, as a wife and mistress of a household, yet spared the toil and trouble — the care and responsibility generally entailed upon a young person in such a position — would be the surest plan by which I could have secured the hap- piness of one so little accustomed to such matters — to say nothing of the advantage in experience and information which she could not fail to acquire from the example of so superior a head as Lady Kachel's. But I see the views of Miss Cameron's parents are not the same — for my part I never for a moment contemplated the incompatibility of two such persons as Lady Eachel Beauchamp and Miss Cameron dwelling under the same roof without DAUGHTERS. 193 endangering the happiness of either — nor did I foresee the unfavourable impression which my excellent mother must have made upon my future connections, and I grieve to add, their seeming distrust of my care and affec- tion towards my intended wife. Under such circumstances I scarcely know what to pro- pose." The General and Mrs. Cameron wished to explain, in a more favorable view, their ideas upon the subject, but Mr. Beauchamp begged to be allow^ed to continue. " If Mrs. Cameron," he said, " wish to ascertain the rules and regulations by which our domestic establishment is to be arranged, I can only state, that I intend my mother should still continue her former posi- tion as directress of the household ; both be- cause I consider her more suited, by her years and dignity, for those duties, from which I would fain spare my delicate, gentle Lena, for some years to come, and also because such VOL I. K 194 DAUGHTERS. an arrangement will leave us more liberty for the constant enjoyment of each other's society, and enable us to devote ourselves without interruption to those interests and employments we shall share together. My tastes and pursuits are of a most sedentary character, and my habits wholly domestic." The General and his wife could scarcely forbear a smile at this last clause of the argument. A slight curl on Mrs. Cameron's lip, might have given rise to the idea, that had her thoughts been embodied in words, they might have expressed the uncourteous exclamation of, " What a bore of a husband !" However, Mr. Beauchamp proceeded without further interruption — " The private suite of apartments, which I shall appropriate to the especial use of myself and my wife, will render us as free and independent of the inter- ference and intrusion of others upon our private hours, as a married pair can desire. DAUGHTERS. 195 Beyond this, what other arrangements can now be made without offence to my mother, and dissatisfaction to myself, I must say I am at a loss to imagine." •^ Well," said the General rising and walk- ing towards the fire-place, and leaning his head upon his hand with a movement which told that he was little satisfied, " I know not what to say about it — I sincerely trust this plan may be found to answer — but — " ^^ You yet doubt it," interrupted Mr. Beau- champ warmly, " in that case, indeed, I can hardly wish you to allow your daughter — " '^ May I come in ?" sounded at that moment in a sweet voice as the handle of the door having turned, it gently opened, and Lena made her appearance, like an angel of peace and quiet, amongst the ruffled party. She had come with some message to her mother, from the Duchess, with whom she had been sitting. Her father, when she had delivered it, drew K 3 196 DAUGHTERS. her towards him tenderly and kissed her with an earnestness of affection — ahnost of sad significance. At least so it appeared to Mr. Beauchamp, whose feelings were at that moment not a little susceptible of tenacious Jealousy. • And Lena, who had not failed to perceive the offended cloud upon her lover's brow — the gravity on that of her father — and a certain look of disquiet on Mrs. Ca- meron's expressive countenance, in her turn began to be alarmed and anxious, as her eyes glanced timidly from one to the other. Mr. Beauchamp noticed that her observa- tion had been attracted— for he had fixed his eyes somewhat gloomily, though earnestly, upon her face— and he now said in a tone which was slightly tremulous— " Are you, also, Miss Cameron, of your parents' opinion upon the present painful sub- ject, the discussion of which you agreeably interrupted — is it your conviction that the DAUGHTERS. 197 happiness of your life will be destroyed by dwelling under the same roof with my mo- ther ? Can you not brook the idea of her sharing with you the authority and influence of our establishment ? Is it your desire that her son should dismiss her from beneath his roof — or rather to force that son to withdraw from his mansion — for I must declare such a step would be far more bearable to me than the other — in order to leave my mother in unmolested possession of the home I had promised should ever be hers ?" Poor Lena turned very pale at these sudden and unexpected questions, thus directly put to her by her excited, agitated lover, and she anxiously turned an enquiriixg gaze towards her mother, " Xo ! Answer for yourself, Lena, if you please," Mr. Beauehamp continued ; " I wish for your own unbiassed sentiments ; and that the sincerity and but too fervent ardour of my affection may evince itself by still fur- 198 DAUGHTERS. ther proof — one which I grieve to perceive is so much required ;" he glanced reproach- fully at General and Mrs. Cameron, " I will even declare myself resolved to yield entirely to your decision — ^painful as will be the con- duct which it may entail upon me. As I have just said, I am ready to trample on all my long-arranged plans, if you, also, concur in the fear and dislike of living with my mother." " / wish to part you from your mother ! Oh papa ! Dear mama, why do you desire it ? To part a mother and a son who had always .intended to live together, happy and united, like" — Lena paused with a slight sigh — she was going to say, " like our own family," but there rose before her fancy, coun- teracting images, checking the cheerful spirit with which thus innocently she pleaded against herself; and her eyes, lifted before with such confidence and animation, drooped more sadly — timidly, as she continued — DAUGHTERS. 199 " Why should my entrance into Ladj Rachel's family endanger my own or her ^ happiness ? I am sure for my part it will be my endeavour to please your mother, Mr. Beauchamp, Do you not think I shall be able to do so, dear father ?" and she looked with pained surprise on the General, whose eyes she beheld glistening through tears, as he gazed upon her as she thus so sweetly spoke. " If all were Angels like yourself, my child, I should doubt not your power of pleasing, or kindness and happiness being your portion under any circumstances or situation of life. And indeed," the father added, looking ten- derly upon her, " I can still scarcely image to myself the contrary ; therefore I will say no more upon the subject, but rely upon the affec- tion of your husband (which he indeed wrongs me in supposing me to dov.bt,) for shielding you from all that may prove inimical to your peace and happiness." 200 DAUGHTERS. " Of that I have already given you as- surance. General," Mr. Beauchamp replied with softened emotion, as one hand of Lena's was pressed with almost worshipping tender- ness within his own. '' If you or your dear daughter have ever any cause for complaint, save perhaps of the too jealous fervour of my watchful affection, I shall deserve indeed to forfeit every blessing which the possession of such a treasure bestows upon me." Mrs. Cameron now interposed with some cheerful, soothing words, in order to break up the conference with less solemnity and gravity, and thus pacifically, if not satisfactorily or with benefit to the future happiness of the parties concerned, did this at first threatening scene terminate. DAUGHTERS, 201 CHAPTEK XIV. " Look where she comes In sweetness like the hawthorn-buds unblown ; While the proud bridegroom, like the month of ^lay, Steps on 'midst flowers." Barry Cornwall, " A sudden chance. Flung me across a marriage train." Ibid. The next month glided quickly away, and it was perhaps fortunate that th ?re was so much occupation during its duration, to fill the minds of the Camerons, to the exclusion of K 5 202 DAUGHTERS. any idle broodings over the prospect of that event which, at its conclusion was to take place. There were the double preparations for Lena's wedding, and the removal of the family to Ireland, which was immediately to succeed its celebration. It might probably be much owing to this press of business, and the fatigue and anxiety consequent on such momentous arrangements, that so heavy a load of care was to be seen gradually gathering on the mother's brow, that so lowered became the tone of her usually joyous spirits — an effect far from resembling the elated gratification which the reality of this long wished for era in her existence might have been expected to produce. Even the General, overwhelmed with affairs, and always on the road to and from London, was in better spirits than his wife. The Duchess rallied and rebuked her friend for her weakness, as she termed it, and Lena, DAUGHTERS. 203 by her looks of grieved surprise, might have seemed ahnost to convey a gentle reproach to her mother, for thus failing her in the very hour, when she, for that dear mother's sake, had brought herself to look with such resignation and fortitude — nay, with contentment, on her first reluctantly accepted destiny. Now when she had learnt even to love Mr. Beauchamp as her future husband, she began to fancy at times that her mother — once so vehement in her praise of him — seemed almost to dislike him. Mrs. Cameron felt indeed that the manifes- tations of such symptoms on her part, were in- excusable and ungrateful towards her dear, self sacrificing child. She strove to turn her mind from any such interpretations, and to attribute her own mysterious demeanour solely to the thoughts of their coming separation — an excuse which easily found an ech; in poor Lena's breast, for it was a contemplation agonizing indeed to her affectionate, tender heart. 204 DAUGHTERS. however bright and consoling might be the connteracting images of future happiness which her young sisters were for ever bringing forward as sources of consolation to soothe her sorrow, as well as their own, at this prospect of parting, causing smiles of pleased anticipa- tion to mingle with her tears. They talked of the numerous future visits to each other — their delight in being welcomed to her beautiful home — and though the cling- ing heart of Lena sank low with trem- bling dismay at the idea of the change which awaited her, the young are blest with a com- parative thoughtlessness of the future ; though the present may weigh heavily on their youthful spirits, their anticipations of the mor- row are ever vaguely and slowly realized. So although the betrothed did sometimes sit in pale and pitiful dejection, surrounded by the splendid wedding presents and bridal trousseau amidst which her sisters flitted ad- miringly, like butterflies from flower to flower, DAUGHTERS. 205 though they did make her heart ache and cause her bosom to swell with suppressed weeping, as she looked upon all these prepara- tions as signals of what was to come, she was calmer — more cheerful, perhaps, than might have been expected — till, indeed the day came closely upon them, and then there was much grief and sadness pervading the whole house- hold — all shrunk from the idea of losing the treasured of their hearts — the gentle, loving being so prized by all ! But on the morning of the marriage, the chilling presence of Lady Rachel — who with her youngest daughter, honoured the occasion with her presence — seemed to have the power of repressing aU feeling and emotion, within their proper bounds of decorum and propriety — IVIr. Beauchamp had no cause to be dissatisfied with the deportment of his bride, for nought but the trembling timid denzoanour, natural to her situation, was visible to give oiFence, to his own complacent feelings, on the oc- casion. 206 DAUGHTERS. We will not enter into a minute description of the ceremony. Those who love such details, may have frequent future opportunities of in- dulging their tastes in such matters. To the end of the world there will be marrying and giving in marriage. Some will gladly pass the subject over, having learnt, as we fear so many have done, to hail with no such lively and pleasing interest, the idea and name of wed- dings — some may have even lived to look upon them with the poet, as the " Saddest sight of all !" We can imagine that the bride looked very fair, that the bridesmaids made the prettiest group imaginable. The party was small — the Duke, Duchess, and a very few near relations and friends, com- prised the whole of the company. The General was powerfully affected during DAUGHTERS. 207 the ceremony — Mrs. Cameron was enabled to maintain her composure very tolerably. She looked beautiful ; and her youthful appearance, was most striking, when the eye fell upon the numbers of tall children by which she was surrounded. " Time from her form hath ta'en away but Uttle of its grace ; Its touch of thought, hath dignified the beauty of her face." That very morning however she had entered the Duchess's dressing room, her fine hair floating about her face, and with a half comic, half serious look of dismay, upon her coun- ten&,nce. " Dear Duchess, has it come to this at last?" " What do you mean Laura?" said her Grace, looking up in alarm. " On my daughter's wedding day too ! I used to think, that such an event would make 208 DAUGHTERS. me young again — but for the first time I have actually discovered many grey hairs." The Duchess laughed. " Well dear Laura," she said " it is what we must expect at our age." " Our age !" exclaimed Mrs. • Cameron, " but you have none." " I scarcely know," replied the Duchess with great unconcern ; " I think not — but per- haps my maid, in consideration to my feelings, extracts them without my knowledge ; besides, my light hair is always more tardy of change, than your dark locks." " Oh no Cecilia, it is all this marriage which has worried me to death — ^made me ten years older. I almost feel," and Mrs. Cameron sank down pale and dejected by the side of her kind friend, " that this will be a break up — not only of my looks, but what is of rather more con- sequence — the happiness and peace I have hitherto enjoyed. I scarcely know why it should be ; this discontent is certainly unac- DAUGHTERS. 209 cuutable concerning an event, for wliich I ehould be so thoughtful— but poor darling Lena ! I wonder how it will answer. She is so different from other girls, as timid and cHng- ing as a child. I can scarcely fancy her exist- ino^ without me for so lono; a time — I have never quite realized the idea of what I am about to do — commit this delicate gentle, child into the hands of strangers. However," ^Mrs. Cameron added with much agitation, " come weal, come woe, it is I who have done it all — Ceciha I never till this moment felt the extent of the responsibility which I have brought upon myself." " ;My dear Laura, your spirits are naturally dis- composed by the idea of the exertions you have to encounter to-day. Do not say that you are giving up your child into the hands of strangers — a husband cannot be classed under such a denomination — especially one .^o tender and per- fectly devoted as Mr. Beauchamp must prove. You must trust to me," the Duchess soothingly 210 DAUGHTERS. added, **for watching over her as assiduously as I possibly can, during your absence from Eng- land." "Thank you much, dearest Cecilia; that idea will indeed be a comfort. I ought — I am quite aware, to confide more, as you say, on Mr. Beauchamp's care and affection — and my feel- ings on the subject are most morbidly sensitive to-day: but I am weak and upset altogether. My mind is filled with every kind of gloomy pre-vision. Oh! Cecilia; if you could only feel for a moment the anxieties of a mother, you would never again repine at being childless I However," Mrs. Cameron added, rising and preparing to quit the room, " this is indeed a bad preparation for the trials of the day, and there is poor Lena still asleep; I would not allow her to be disturbed, she has yet to open her eyes upon her wedding morning !" Mrs. Cameron gave a slight shudder, paused one moment to give an admiring glance at the Duchess's Paris bonnet hanging ready for the DAUGHTERS. 211 occasion, then withdrew, a little relieved by this outpouring of her feelings. Poor Lena — she stood in the midst of the assembled guests after the ceremony was over, in the drawing-room at Beechy Place, leaning on her husband's arm, to be looked at and con- gratulated. She would not weep if she could help it — though she felt her powers of suppres- sion fast melting away. So whilst she smiled faintly in answer to those who addressed, or commented upon her, she fixed her large dark eyes on the most joyous object she could find — her youngest brother's smiling face gazing upon her with cheerful, childlike curiosity. But it was too dear an object to serve long as a preservative to her composure ; soon as she gazed upon the child she loved so tenderly, her eyes were blinded by the swelling drops, and Mr. Beauchamp was in another moment lead- ing her away, in order that sh'; might vent her uncontrollable emotion in greater privacy. Annie and Janet immediately followed in her train. 212 DAUGHTERS, '^ Mama says," they exclaimed, ^^ Lena is to come with us, and you, Mr. Beauchamp, are to go to the breakfast." But the brother-in-law still retained his bride from them, with grave determination. " I should have wished you to have accom- panied me, Lena," he said, " if it were only for a few minutes — do you not think you can compose yourself sufficiently to please me ?" V "Oh no, Mr. Beauchamp !" Annie hastily exclaimed, " I am sure she would much rather not — and really you must leave her with us — we, who are to lose her directly for, perhaps, a very long time^would you not rather go with us dear Lena ?" " Oh yes !" cried Lena turning towards them from Mr. Beauchamp, sobbing. "' Well," Mr. Beauchamp said, yielding her reluctantly, " I must only beg that you will not agitate yourself with your sisters — you know," he added, addressing himself with se- vere gravity to the two girls, " that Lena has DAUGHTERS. 213 a long journey before her. You must not be allowed to weep, my love," he again repeated to the young bride, or a headache will be the consequence." " Oh she cannot help it, Mr. Beauchamp ; it is impossible !" Annie somewhat petulantly exclaimed. " But she will try for my sake," was his grave rejoinder," and Lena was led away. The breakfast was over, the carnage at the door, and ^Irs. Cameron soon saw the first bride of the family depart from her, with feel- ings little similar to those she had once ex- pected to have experienced, at such an epoch of her existence. And how truly does this feeling correspond with the usual circumstances of our lot in this disappointing world- — how often do we anticipate, with feelings of unmixed delight, some approaching event — some coming enjoy- ment, perhaps, as innocent and natural, as the desire of water to the thirsty soul. It comes--^ 214 DAUGHTERS. but alas ! how changed from all that our joyoua anticipations had pourtrayed it ; how little — how less than little does it contain to satisfy our expectations ! We have looked for too much from the creature, and the creator has vindicated his own Majesty, by depriving it of the little it really possessed, and of which otherwise he would have permitted the en- joyment. * ♦ * * ♦ The married pair were to pass the honey moon in the Isle of Wight. They were retarded a few hours after their departure, by a slight accident, which obliged the carriage to stop for some moments. Mr. Beauchamp had himself impatiently alighted to superintend the necessary repairs. Whilst thus employed, a young man rode past, and paused for a moment to see what was going on ; but his attention was quickly riveted by the most interesting feature of the scene — the lovely occupant of the chariot, whose beautiful DAUGHTERS 215 head, drooping with dejection, was visible at the window against which she languidly re- clined — " The cup was all full and the leaves were aU wet, And it seemed to a fanciful view To weep for the buds it had left with regret, On the flourishing bush where it grew." This simple couplet on the shower- washed rose, might truly have suggested itself to " a fanciful view," as symbolical of the pretty bride's appear- ance at that moment— the delicate flush of her fair, young face, brightened by the shadow cast upon it by the rose coloured bonnet she wore, and bedewed with the fast dropping tears, which — profitting by the absence of her bride- groom — she now again suffered to trickle un- restrained. The young man's heart beat quick and pain- fully. For a moment he felt bewildered, as if a vision had appeared before his eyes. But then the whole character of the scene before 216 DAUGHTEES. him suggested explanatory recollections- rendered more lucid by the bridal appearance of the gentleman, who with a surprised and half offended countenance, now hastily turned tow^ards him, from the operations he was over- looking. Soon, indeed, was the yovmg stranger dis- enchanted. He bowed with crimsoned brow, murmured some offers of assistance — civilly, but coldly declined by Mr. Beauchamp — and •Lena, awaking from the bewilderment with which she had at first gazed on the well- known face, now began to make some embar- rassed signs of recognition. The young man who seemed to hesitate whether or not it would be proj^er to address her further, finally bowed again and rode on. " Do you know that person, Lena ?" asked Mr. Beauchi\mp in a tone of slight an- noyance. " Oh yes ! it was Mr. Frederick Sackville, a near relation of the Duchess of Stratheden ; I knew him in London," Lena answered. DAUGHTERS. 217 " You had better not sit so forward my love," Mr. Beauchamp remarked, " we are close to Brighton," which is very full now, we shall be very likely to fall in with acquaint- ances, and these rencontres are not very agree- able at this moment. A weeping bride espe- cially," he added, looking on the signs of recent tears visible on her face with an air of re- proach, " should not be exposed to the vulgar gaze." And he lowered her veil, so that if he could not plainly bid her tears not to flow, at least he might not see her shed theuL VOL. L 218 DAUGHTERS, CHAPTER XV. There was a shadov/ on their mirth A vacant place is on their hearth, When at the purple evening's close, Around its fire-light gathered those With whom her youth's sweet course had run." L. E. L. " Oh then 'tis time to look forward, And back, like the hunted hare ; And to watch as the little bird watches, When the falcon is in the air." Barry Cornwall. We will intrude no longer on the married pair. Let us glance back briefly to the in- DAUGHTERS. 219 mates of Beecliy place, ere we part to meet again in Ireland. We will not dilate upon the desolate blank occasioned by the departure of the much loved bride. It was felt almost like a second death in the family by her relations. The dreary autumn weather, and the con- sequent gloom which it cast over the outward aspect of Beechy Place and its environs, tended to increase the depression of their spirits, and it was, perhaps, better for them all that the opportunity of indulging those feelings, was interrupted by a break in their family party, although it was one by no means palatable to any of their tastes. Two days after the wedding, the Duchess was taken by surprise by Lady Rachel's gra- ciously accepting an in\dtation to spend a few days at Beechy Place, before her return home, which had been given certainly without much expectation of such a result. Her Ladyship even fixed the day immediately following that L 3 220 DAUGHTERS. on which she received the invitation ; it not being her wish, she said, to trespass on the bounds she had fixed as to the period of her absence from home. For this favour her noble hostess later dis- covered, that she was indebted to a disagree- ment which had taken place between the domi- neering mother and her clerical son during the few days of their sojourn together. This opportunity therefore of a removal from the roof of her offending child to the abode of his noble neighbours, afforded her a more dig- nified and convenient mode of shewing forth her displeasure, than by a premature departure in dudgeon from the country. Her ladyship arrived then with her youngest daughter, a tall girl of sixteen — rather pretty, in spite of the disadvantages of dress — and the misery, through shyness and fear, with which in her mother's presence she seemed oppressed and subdued. By the arrangement however of the Duchess, DAUGHTERS. 221 — to which as a guest Lady Rachel was forced in a measure to submit — the young Agnes, during her stay at Beechy, was spared from much of that infliction, by being appointed to form one of the school-room party. Lady Rachel would have perhaps more unwillingly conceded to a plan which so completely re- moved her daughter from her vigilant espionnage had she not remarked that the young Cameron s were more than usually excluded from free access into the drawing-room — never entering it except by invitation. The fact was that the General and Mrs. Cameron felt scrupulous in presuming on the kindness of their noble hosts, by intruding the society of so many young ones upon them, at all times ; and strove to the utmost to prevent their feeling any annoyance from the fact of so large a family, being domesticated beneath their roof. But if Lady Rachel could have fully real- ized the idea of the perfect freedom and joyous 222 DAUGHTERS. cheer, of this schoolroom, into which her daugh- ter was introduced as an honorar}' member, in contrast with the iron discipline of her so named house of bondage, her ideas of decorum would truly have been outraged. All was holiday too during that unsettled period, and although Annie and Janet had at first been really miserable and depressed by the loss of their sister, their rebounding natures and the salutary call on their exertions by Miss Beau- champ's visit, enabled them soon to rally, and their efforts were not a little encouraged by the agreeable surprise of finding their guest not quite the hopelessly despondent, frightened creature, she had appeared to them under dif- ferent circumstances — but indeed wonderfully disposed under the influence of her temporary relief from parental oversight, to expand into SQci ability and unconstraint. Luckily for her, the school-room establishment was sufficiently isolated from the precincts inhabited by the elders, for the indulgence of the social merri- DAUGHTERS. 223 ment its walls often resounded, and Agnes Beauchamp was soon excited into taking a part therein, without danger of the joyous sounds reaching the ears of her lady mother. But it was amusing — or rather we ought to say sad, to note with what a sudden change — how like a flower at the approach of night — the girl would shrink and close up, as soon as her parent's presence — or even vicinity, cast its shadow over her. One of the greatest sources of martyrdom en- dured by young Agnes at this time, was caused by the malice prop.inse of the young Gerald Cameron, who in order to shock Lady Rachel, would talk to her, and intrude upon her his boyish attentions in her mother's very face, and in a manner which frightened her to death — indeed she knew that if observed, it would at once put an end to all her present enjoyed liberty — nay she doubted no^ ,, to the visit itself, if it were remotely suspected by Lady Rachel to what a degree she was exposed to the com- pany of the youth during the day. 224 DAUGHTERS. Young Cameron finding the society of his lively young sisters more to his taste than the chilling atmosphere of Lady Rachel's presence, passed most of the time, supposed by her Lady- ship to be spent by him. in the duties of secre- taryship business, for his father, ministering to the amusements and enlivenment of the school- room party. This delusion, for the peace and quiet of the poor girl, the other ladies aided in maintaining ; Agnes's fears and cautions against any such discovery, affording no little enter- tainment to the youth himself, whilst it sur- prised his sisters, who could not at all under- stand why it should be, " Why, Miss Agnes, I suppose you are kept like a mouse in a trap at home ?" Gerald ex- claimed, one day ; when she was forced to re- fuse in terror to join in some escapade, proposed by her companions by way of amusement — too boldly in defiance of discovery, and the awful consequences which would thereby inevitably accrue. DAUGHTERS. 225 ^' How came it then may I ask ?" continued Gerald, "that Lady Rachel was induced to bring you to the wedding instead of your sisters who are as it is called — ^ come out ?' " " As it is called indeed !" was Agnes's reply, " but except that they do not learn as many lessons, and are taken out occasionally by my mother " " From which honor I should think they would rather be excused," was Gerald's paren thesis, and without contradiction from Miss Beauchamp. "Except that!" she continued, "there is no great difference in being out. I was certainly surprised at being brought into Sussex ; it was not so arranged until the morning we started — my sisters being ready dressed to go, but they were sent back up stairs by Mama, who was not pleased with their appearance, or something of that sort I suppose. The carriage was post- poned for an hour or two — my clothes huddled L 5 226 DAUGHTERS. together, and I was made ready to accompany Mama." " And were your sisters disappointed ?" asked Annie and Janet. " Oh no !" was the answer, " they are used to such adventures, and I dare say they will have great fun." " When the cat's away the mice may play." laughed Gerald. Agnes laughed too. Was that quotation ever more aptly applied ? " Then there really is fun going on some- times at Beauchamp Towers?" asked Janet, her spirits slightly raised by the improvement which this idea cast upon Lena's prospects. " Oh, yes, sometimes ; for our rooms are separated from the rest of the house, and when they are quite sure that Mama is thoroughly occupied with company, or other matters, Rachel and Amelia do pretty well what they like." ** But are not your governesses very strict ?^ DAUGHTERS. 227 " Oh, my sisters have got rather above them now; and the governesses are, I think, be- coming weary of the task of keeping them in order, and leave them more to their own de- vices. I am kept at it still pretty tightly — but that will I hope soon be over — and then — " She broke off with a heavy sigh, as even then no very bright anticipation presented itself. " How charming it will be for you to have dear Lena as a sister I she will be so kind and affectionate, and make Mr. Beauchamp inter- cede for you to be a great deal with her," re- marked Annie. " Oh, no ; I dare say we shall be very little together," replied Agnes. " The apartments prepared for her and Lionel are far from ours ; we have never seen much of our brother, except when he has been sent by Mama to lecture us — and I suppose we shall see as little of liis wife." ^' An extraordinary establishment, indeed r Gerald exclaimed. " Well, I hope when I am 228 DAUGHTEES. invited to the Towers to see my sister, Lady Rachel will depute me some grave office — father confessor perhaps — to the school-room department, and we will see if we cannot con- trive to get np a little amusement." Agnes gave a hopeless sigh, which, however, was followed by a laugh ; the last almost she laughed at Beechy, for an unfortunate finale was put that very afternoon to Miss Agnes'& short lived reign of liberty and enjoyment. The weather — so hopelessly rainy the first few days of the Beauchamps' visit — having cleared up, the carriage was ordered for the ladies, and the young party were left to walk, as was supposed, by Lady Rachel. Indeed strict injunctions were given by her to Agnes that such should be her mode of passing the after- noon—to walk with the governess in demure order, up and down the dry shrubbery. But the sea looked so fresh and tempting from the downs, into which the girls ventured, by the little wicket opening upon them, that Annie Daughters. 229 and Janet entreated Miss Manners to let them walk thither ; and not even the necessity of leaving^ their o^uest behind, could induce the high-spirited, indulged little maidens to resist the temptation after their long confinement, of an expedition with the pony to the delightful sea beach. Agnes Beauchamp, evidently considered that it would be as much as her life was worth, the discovery of such a transgression of her mother's injunctions. Alas ! it was from the discovery not the transgression the unfortunate girl had through injudicious severity been brought to shrink, with terror I She was there- fore left, after some hesitation on the part of her young friends, to walk with the two younger children and the nurse. With rather a rueful, longing face she watched the happy party set oif and strove to content herself — which she could readily do- -for every breath of freedom she drew was a novel delight to her ; and the society of little Cecil and Laura — who 230 DAUGHTEKS. merry as two little chirping birds chattered and frolicked by her side — added to her enjoyment. After a time the children were taken in, and Agnes was left alone leaning against the shrub- bery gate in rather a melancholy reverie, mus- ing on the bitter contrast aiForded by the happy lives of the young Camerons to that which had been or ever could be her portion. Her sisters, they were introduced, but their prospects were little brightened by it, still shut up, as Gerald said, " like mice in a trap," with little hope of emancipation — even by marriage — for they never were allowed to speak to any one — and marriage had been their long cherished hope of freedom for the future. " Oh, I wish I could marry !" she exclaimed, bitterly — " or run away somewhere, and live in a cottage and work for my bread — anything to be at peace, and kindly treated." And images and wishes were conjured up before her mind which probably would never have visited the girl of a happier culture and DAUGHTERS. 231 education. At length she heard — " A noise of some one coming through the grass, And singing clearer than the crested bird That claps his wings at dawn." It was Gerald Cameron, who, with his gun on his shoulder, came up to the little gate on which she leant — gay and handsome as he always was. Having heard from her — startled and confused by his sudden appearance — an explanation of her solitary state, he declared it was very rude of his sisters to have thus deserted her — that he would give them a good scolding, and finally invited her to take a brisk walk with him along the pleasure grounds. She complied with this invitation, but at first seemed little at her ease, listening to every sound like a startled hare, and asking every moment if Gerald did not hear the carriage. " Oh ! you need not expect them home for some time," at length Gerald said, smiling at her alarm ; " but why should you care about it, even were the carriage to arrive ?" 232 DAUGHTERS. " Certainly I must run in— I must be up stairs before Mama returns," replied Agnes. " Why ?" questioned her companion. " Oh ! she would be dreadfully angry to find me out alone." " Alone I" said Gerald, " you are with me." * " Oh ! that would be a thousand times worse ; you must not tell Mama, if you please, that — that—" " That we took a little walk together — nonsense — what's the harm ?" said Gerald. The girl coloured and hung her head. " I don't know," she replied, ** but she would think it very shocking — if she found us out." " Found us out .'" repeated Gerald to himself, quite provoked ; for with his clear, good judg- ment — young as he was — he felt the folly, to say the least of it, of bringing up a girl in such a manner — of puttings such notions into her head — leading only to hypocrisy and deceit. " Well ! if the old fool has something worse to DAUGHTERS. 233 scold her for some of these days, it will serve her only right — she's a pretty girl," Gerald thought, as he glanced at his companion ; her dark complexion brightened by the glow of shy embarrassment — her face, partly shaded by her large unseemly bonnet — a certain character of interest being cast even over the gaucherie of the tall drooping girl. Gerald pitied her from the bottom of his heart, and began gradually to draw her out to confide in him a history of her grievances, which his kind, frank, sympathizing manner soon encouraged her to do with considerable animation ; till in the interest and excitement of her tale, she forgot to mark, how the shadows were deepening on the beech trees, the nao- ments passing unmarked, and also that the moisture of the leaf-strewn ground would cause the sound of the carriage wheels to be less audible. They were talking of Lena — Gerald telling 234 DAUGHTERS. Agnes to make a friend of his sweet, kind sister — saying, how sure he was that her amia- bility would effect much of amelioration for them all-^when suddenly, as in closest con- verse they walked side by side, a shadow, darker than the shades of night, overcast their narrow patL Lady Rachel stood before them with that written on her countenance which her daughter required little examination to decipher. Indeed her presence itself was sufficient — and the poor girl shrank at once before her, in abject resignation to her fate. Gerald bowed in fearless confidence, though he felt for Agnes. He thought it best to be the first to speak, and therefore said — " I trust your ladyship has had a pleasant drive — my sisters, I am shocked to say, had the impoliteness to leave Miss Beauchamp to a solitary walk. " " Not solitary it seems !" her ladyship res- ponded, with a sneer. DAUGHTERS. 2 35 " Xo, not since I was allowed the pleasure of joining your daughter,'' Gerald coolly but civilly replied. " Miss Agnes Beauchamp doubtless fully appreciated the pleasure," her ladyship con- tinued; but it is one in which it is not my plea- sure that she should indulge — her own room, rather than the open shrubbery would have been the more proper place for her, in the ab- sence of the Miss Camerons and their gover- ness. However," she added, her brow growing darker and darker, " this is the consequence of bringing young ladies of her age out of their proper sphere — from the privacy and restraint of their own school-room. It will teach me wisdom for the future — Miss Agnes you will oblige me by accompanying me to our apart- ments." And from these precincts the unlucky Agnes did not appear again that evening. The Cameron girls were much dismayed when informed by their brother of what had 236 DAUGHTERS. occurred, deeming themselves too truly the cause of the catastrophe. Miss Manners also reproached herself excessively for having acceded to what might be considered a breach of duty. All the party did indeed receive a very grave lecture from Mrs. Cameron ; for although disposed, with the Duchess, to look upon Lady Rachel's serious treatment of the aifair as an absurd characteristic of her ladyship's temper, still she felt much annoyed at the idea that her children's thoughtless conduct had caused the present disagreeable business. Mrs. Cameron considered it incumbent upon her to mention her regret and displeasure to Lady Rachel — upon which her ladyship merely coldly bowed her acceptance of the apology, demonstrating only by a somewhat clouded brow and even more stiffened manner, that anything had occurred to discompose her. None of the young party appeared that even- ing, therefore the confinement of Agnes to her room was enabled to pass unnoticed. DAUGHTERS. 237 On retiring for the night, Lady Eachel announced her intention of bringing her visit to an end the following day; an intimation her host and hostess had little inclination to resist. The girls had been in deep distress to find all access to their unfortunate friend debarred by Lady Rachel's maid, who was set as a watch over her chamber. Gerald was by far the most uncomfortable of the party — the evening was passed by him in much disquiet of spirit — so truly did he com- passionate poor Agnes — and when the next morning, she was suffered to make her appear- ance, equipped for the journey close by her mother's side, to take leave of the assembled family — he took advantage of any necessary withdrawal of the Cerberus eye of Lady Rachel to cast looks of kindness and com- miseration upon ; her and the quick sidelong glances darted in return from beneath the drooping eyelashes, showed that he was not 238 DAUGHTEJIS. only answered, but with deep expression and understanding. How much more interest and importance had the tete-a-tete shrubbery walk received, from the persecution which had been its conse- quence, than twenty such walks would other- wise have effected ! Poor Agnes had soon entered the carriage, and bid adieu to liberty, light and joy for many a long and weary day ; but there would exist henceforth a ray of sunshine at her heart amidst the darkness of her existence — a pleasing dream of romance to beguile the weariness of bondage. DAUGHTERS. 239 CHAPTER XVI, " Thou hast been reared too tenderly Beloved too well and long, Watch'd by too many a gentle eye — Now look on life — be strong ! But oh ! too beautiful and blest Thy home of youth hath been ! Where shall thy wing, poor bird, find rest, Shut out from that sweet scene ?" Mrs. Hemams. After about a month's sojourn in the Isle of Wight, the married pair arrived to take up their abode at Beauchamp Towers, and Lena Beauchamp " A sad sweet weddec' wife " entered her husband's home. 240 DAUGHTERS. Those who saw her, ever remembered how that fair gentle creature appeared among them like some angel guest — some better spirit — whose presence inspired a hope, that her com- ing might infuse a purifying influence around — might dispel the harshness and oppression, and consequent bitterness and strifes, which had be- fore pervaded the atmosphere of the gloomy mansion. And with what feelings did the young bride enter the portal of her new home ? As much cheerfulness as it was possible to summon to her aid, did Lena assume for the satisfaction of her husband, though many spoilt brides in her case, would have considered him little meriting such exertions, considering that it was in part that husband, who had increased the cause for peculiar sadness which oppressed her spirits that day. It was only that same morning an their journey, that Mr. Beauchamp had broken to her the fact, of having resisted an invitation DAUGHTERS. 241 from her parents to meet them at where they were to remain a day on their route for Ireland Mr. Beauchamp's reason for thus acting was listened to with tears of disappointment. He deemed that it would have been only cruelty to have exposed her to the pain of a second parting ; he had therefore requested her parents not to mention it in their letters to their daugh- ter, and then he concluded by informing her, that on that veiy day they were all to embark. Their letter of farewell he then drew forth and presented to her. Poor Lena ! she could not read it for her blinding tears, and then her husband remarked that her agitation, even on this occasion, but, confirmed the prudence of the course he had pursued. Thus, though her sweet temper soon enabled her to accept his attempts at consolation, and to rally sufficiently to resume her patient placidity ere she arrived at the Towers, and to receive the VOL. I. • Bt 242 DAUGHTERS. gracious welcome of her mother-in-law witli becoming cheerfulness, yet she could not com- bat with the feeling of desolation which stole over her when at length she found herself re- leased from the necessity of exertion, in the solitude of her stately apartments^ Thither she had been immediately conducted after her arrival by her husband and his mother ; and paraded, first through the suite of sitting- rooms, boudoir, and sleeping chamber with proud complacent certainty of the surprise and gratification, with which their luxury — even splendour must inevitably strike her. And Lena had striven not to disappoint that expectation, but by her smiles, admiration and thanks, to show forth demonstrations of that nature. " I flatter myself indeed," Lady Rachel had then observed, " that no princess could find reason to discover any fault in the accom- modation and arrangements we have prepared for you Mrs. Beauchamp ; and now, Lionel, DAUGHTERS. 243 having established your lady in her territory, I must request you to leave her for a space to repose after her journey, and you will not grudge me an hour's conference before dressing- time on business which has been awaiting your return." Mr. Beauchamp complied ; but not with great readiness. He had adopted the idea that his young wife could not — or ought not to be left alone for ten minutes together — an idea which was cer- tainly kindness most mistaken, as all who have ever been thus tried will most assuredly agree. We can easily enter into the feelings which prompted that first sovereign request of the Queenly daughter of our realm on entering her new dignity " That she mio:ht be left alone for ten mir nutes !" Alone to commune with one's own heart ! — to feel — to breathe — to move — to think — to look ! — without the gene of human observatiou M 3 244 DAUGHTERS. " No loving eye which watches thine " Close as the air which wraps thee round " to seek " The reason why we smile or sigh — " lo seem to hear e^en the throbbings of the full heart to know its bitterness or to intermeddle with its joy ! — for" when we are alone, and the falsehood of that ealm^— even insouciance which we assume to others is thrown off like an irksome garment, who does not know the flood of wild, deep, natural feelings, which rush upon the heart, and make it beat again, whether to joy or sorrow with a pulse unchecked by any neces-* £ity for assuming gravity or mirth, which it does not feel ?" And Lena thought to enjoy a similar period of relief when the door of the apartment had closed her in — and venturing to disobey her husband's considerate commands that she shoul(^ DAUGHTERS. 245 ring for her maid, and have lights — for the short November afternoon was fast closing: in — • she seated herself on a low stool near the fire and rested her head upon the couch by its side. But busy thought soon recalled recollections which rendered her freedom from constraint, but very loneliness indeed. In her mind's eye she saw the vessel which bore so many dear ones far from her — never before had she so fully realized the idea that she was separated for so many a long day from all those dear fami- liar beings — from a mother's love and care, from a father's tenderness — from brothers' and sisters' ''joyous cheer." It was being alone indeed now that she felt ehe could not people that strange, errand room with their loved faces, or hear their dear voices break the stately quiet of all around. She was in her future home ; but could she ever feel it home, with every object seeming coldly frowning upon her in its strangeness. She beo:an to wish for her husband's return. MS DAUGHTEUS. She felt so desolate and forlorn. But no— he had better stay away a little longer, for much as she might and ought to appreciate his anxious care, yet at that moment it was for other affections her heart was yearning — -the ties ©f nature were pressing round it — and she felt she should receive no sympathy from him — nay she must hide her feelings— if she would fKrtjby his countenance at least, be reproached ;: for she knew alas ! he deemed that his love should ww^ be her all in all — that leaving father and mother, h^r heart and soul should cleave wholly unto her husband. But how cast off at once the cords which had bound her from her cradle, with such gentle but steadfast force ? As a little child bereft of the parents* arms, and set to run alone, she felt ; if unsupported by their powers, she could scarcely stand — but her love for those beloved ones was an offence to her hus^ band ! She would endeavour not to intrude it upon him, and yet she thought — had he but DAUGHTERS, ^47 allowed her to weep forth her filial sorrow upon his bosom, unblamed, unrepressed, far from doing wrong to the affection he had claimed, the feeling would but have mingled in her heart more surely, with the other affections already emplanted there by nature. Our readers will no doubt deem this a most gloomy picture of the feelings of a bride, only just past the month of honied bliss — dismal indeed ; — so different from the idea generally formed of that epoch, so interesting to every female heart. But let us remember that Lena's was no marriage of love. Too true it was that the young girl had sacrificed all idea of self, in the business, on the shrine of what she considered filial devotion. She married to please her mother, not herself. Lena was as backward in womanly notions as she was young in years — she had never thought of any love save that of father, mother, brother, sisters. Had she really loved her husband, with that love which 248 DAUGHTEBS. passeth all other, she would not have felt thus desolate. The young wife might have sorrowed at leaving the home of her childhood, and all the dear ones it contained, but there is a myste- rious charm which binds devoted wedded hearts, and seems to loosen every other tie. The loving bride weeps — yet she willingly departs, and clings at once to him alone ; with him all places — all circumstances are alike; he is her all in all — and although her first home may be tenderly remembered, her new one is dearest whatever it may be — for it is his, and she is by his side. But alas ! the case we now record is one of marriage without love, and truly this is ever a fearful experiment — an awful risk ! We do see such unions {marriages de convenance) sometimes turn out well — even happily. Time and custom — intrinsic worth will do its work of attaching a heart ; but it is an unnatural— nay if rightly considered, a sinful act — and it is our opinion, that however convenience may DAUGHTERS. 249^ promote, or raiik or fortune adorn a marriage — without real bona fide, love — as its basis — no lesser power — no mortal agency, can turn the bitter waters of this world's trials into wine. Lena, little used to muse and droop in soli- tary sadness, could bear the silence that reigned around no longer, and was about to ring for her maid— not Justine — she had not been considered sufficiently dignified fur the establishment at Beauchamp Towers, but an older person who had before lived with the Camerons, of whom they entertained a high opinion, and had consented to enter Mrs. Beau- champ's service — but just at that moment, Lena heard a low knock, and the door of the apartment softly open. She started into a sitting posture, and looking round saw her three sisters-in-law advancing cautiously towards her. Ere she could rise they were close to her, and kneeling before her the girls embraced the young bride by turns, looking upon her with mingled pity, kindness M 5 250 DAUGHTERS. and interest, as she sat in the firelight, her hair, disarranged by her reclining position, droop- ing around her face which was pale with sadness and fatigue. "We thought perhaps you might like to see us and woidd think it strange that we did not appear to welcome you," the eldest said, when Lena, gently smiling, expressed her pleasure at seeing them, and expressed how kind she thought it in them, having thus come to her. " But you know," Rachel continued " we are not quite our own mistresses, and have only now slipped in here for a very few minutes, having ascertained that Lady Rachel is safely closeted with Lionel till the dressing bell rings." " But I hope you will be allowed con- stantly to come and see me without any con- cealment," Lena said — " I trust indeed we shall be a great deal together ; your mother will not surely object to your coming to see me^ The two elder girls shrugged their shoulderi?, with a doubtful expression. DAUGHTERS. 251 The youngest stood timidly aloof and shook her head, sadly regarding her young sister-in- law with quiet but earnest interest and admi- ration. " Poor Agnes !" the sisters said, " you must not say, if you please, that you have seen her yet. We do not mind it much — we have no idea of being any longer kept shut up like children, afraid to move. She is under school- room discipline ; and since her unfortunate visit to the Duchess, the reins are held tighter than ever." Lena who had heard something of the shrub- bery adventure which Lady Rachel had com- municated to Mr. Beauchamp, glanced instinc- tively at the offender, and beheld her face cast down and crimsoned with confusion. " I shall see you all this evening ?" said Lena, wishing to turn the subject. " Oh yes ! Rachel and I shall enact the part of two dummies at the dinner-table, Amelia answered ; "as for poor Agnes you will 252 DAUGHTEES. be paraded up to see her to-morrow I suppose, but nothing will be expected from you but an embrace of cold propriety ; so you need not be afraid of betraying, by too little warmth, that it is not a first meeting." Lena looked puzzled and distressed ; all these crooked dealings were so new and strange to her. " I know you will be our friend," the eldest continued, "and do what you can with our brother, to make our lives more supportable ; Lionel is inclined to be kind to us, but then he requires to be well managed. Above all," she added, laughing, " you must take care not to seem too anxious about us, or too good-na- turedly partial ; that will send hun at once over to the enemy — ^begging Lady Rachel's pardon for thus naming her." Poor Lena! — her eyes opened still wider with bewilderment, not unmixed with terror. She, since her birth, had only been amongst those, who were open as the broad daylight ! — DAUGHTERS. 253 No back stairs proceedings had she ever even heard of, amongst children and their parents — and now what a field seemed opening before her of dissimulation and manoeuvre ! To her mind it appeared not only sinful, but it grated upon it as vulgar — low — and what shocked her most in the matter was the last concluding words of Eachel Beauchamp— she who associ- ated the idea of her mother, as her tenderest of supports — that rock of confidence which could never fail her— to hear a mother brought forward as the enemy, against whom she was urged to defend her children ! Lena's heart sickened and revolted at the idea, and she en- deavoured to turn the conversation on other subjects, striving particularly to bring forward the youngest girl, towards whom she felt her heart incline with more particular interest. The two eldest seemed to be made of sterner materials than the poor timid Agnes; their education of tyranny had done its work of hardening, in a degree, their natures— they 254 ' DAUGHTERS. were now buoyed up by the spirit of resist- ance, which was by this time burning" fiercely in their hearts, against the despotism under which they existed, and a determination to endeavour to ameliorate their condition — or endure it no longer. But Agnes, younger, and by nature more gentle, looked as crushed and broken-spirited as when Lena had first seen the poor girl creep into her presence seven years before. The dressing bell at length startled the party from the forgetful ease into which they were gradually sinking, and they all hurried away just in time to miss meeting Mr. Beauchamp, who on rejoining his young wife, expressed a hope that she had not been very dull during his absence. Her spirits had somewhat rallied in the society of the girls. It had been a relief after the month's complete tete-a-tete with a com- panion, at the same time so devoted and exigeant as Mr. Beauchamp. She had often DAUGHTERS. 255 blamed herself as ungrateful for the weariness and oppression with which that devotion and care had begun to oppress her spirit; Lena now therefore was able to answer with more ready cheerfulness than she could have done half an hour before, that she had not been at all dull, for his sisters had paid her a visit. Mr. Beauchamp only remarked, that he should have imagined it better for Lena, to have rested herself in quiet after her long journey, as she was to meet them at dinner. He then led her to her dressing room, and returned after the toilette was completed to conduct her to the dining-room. Lady Rachel followed with the two Miss Beauchamps in her train. She took the head of the table, placing Lena by Ler side. Her Ladyship smiled graciously and with condescen- sion as she took her seat, saying she was glad to welcome her son's wife to their board. Indeed, during the meal Lady Rachel was not wanting in kindly attentions ; so that Lena, 256 DAUGHTERS. . between her husband and mother-in-law was scarcely suffered to rest unnoticed for a moment As for the Miss Beauchamps — except when occasionally addressed by their brother, or by Lena who made some timid efforts to draw them out to take their part in the conversation, they sat in silence ; and certainly the reception their occasional speeches received was not en- couraging, as they generally called forth some severe looks, or comment from their mother. Soon after retiring to the drawing-room, Agnes, escorted by a governess, entered. Lena embraced her, and then was informed by Lady Kachel that the young lady had been allowed on her account alone to spend the evening in their company — that it was not her system to bring her daughters forward till they were eighteen — nor had she found — and she looked with severe significance on poor Agnes — that any infringement of that rule had been attended with satisfactory results. Th e frightened girl shrunk back to take her DAUGHTERS. 257 place at the work-table by the side of the go- verness, where she and her sisters passed the evening in silence, or covert whispers, occa- sionally carried on by tbfe two eldest. Lena soon was joined by her husband, who sat by her side on the sofa whilst he read the papers, and his letters ; Lady Rachel with her tapestry work before her conversing with him, chiefly on the subject of the company they were to receive during the following week. Thus passed the evening slowly and wearily to poor Lena, who, what with bodily fatigue and the mental oppression, which the gene and formality surrounding her served to increase, had scarcely energy to use her needle or to utter a word. Her thoughts flew to her evenings at home — those periods of unmixed delight to the whole party, when they were all together — the more serious occupations of the day at an end — nothing required but to be happy and merry. How she missed the bright joyous faces of her 258 DAUGHTEKS. brothers, and sisters — their ringing laugh and unrestrained prattle — her pleasant occupation of amusing her darling pet, the youngest boy, until the melancholy moment of bed-time came ! Could she not in imagination see them all — even hear the clear melodious voices of Annie and Janet as they warbled their father's favorite songs — or the sound of the dance inspiring tunes they rattled on the piano ? Yes, she saw them all, poor girl, in fancy, as she sat in that great, grand, gloomy, silent room, peopled with such dismal spirits. But there were two faces in her picture of home on which she had not courage to dwell ; ^ she must not look upon them, or she should weep aloud. They were the countenances of her father and mother — those beloved, tender parents whose love had ever been so precious te her I Yes, ever — for it was not only now that she was severed from them that she had learnt to know its worth — from a child it had been her dearest delight — her most prized treasure. DAUGHTERS. 259 It was not certainly very flattering towards a bridegroom of only a month's standing, but most assuredly Lena felt at that moment she could lay down her life contentedly, if but once more she could but feel her father's arm around her waist — whilst she pressed her lips upon his dear white forehead, from which she so loved to stroke back the hair which thought, and the constant, and the anxious charge of so many dear ones, more than age had sprinkled with grey-— or could she only have fallen upon her mother's bosom, and wept in peace ! At length Mr. Beauchamp perceiving how pale Lena looked, proposed an oarly retiring which was thankfully accepted — and wearily she laid her head upon the pillow that first time in her new dwelling— to dream, of the old home, and all the kind hearts which com- posed it. 260 DAUGHTERS. CHAPTEK XVII. A, " Look on her. Is she not most beautiful? Most happy, too ? for rank, and youth, and health, Are hers. Can you foresee what earth Has more to yield ?" -S, « Methiaks a 'more might be." Baery Cornwell. The next day a party composed of the best county families was expected to dine at Beau- champ Towers, and some of the guests were to remain all night. They were assembled in order that Mrs. Beauchamp might be presented to her neigh- DAUGHTERS, 261 hours, and for the week succeeding, the house was thrown open to the company. Universal was the interest and admiration the gentle youthful bride attracted. So unassuming in her demeanour, it was hard to realize the idea that she was the rightful mistress of the stately mansion — yielding as she did all preeminent im- portance to her stately mother-in-law — meek as a child, yet sweetly winning in her manners — she might have only appeared a more favoured younger daughter of the family, except indeed from that peculiarly vigilant solicitude^ which fol- lowed her every look — tracked her every move-» ment. ^* Mr. Beauchamp makes the most devoted of husbands," was the general remark, although some of the younger part of the company added, r— " Almost too devoted to be agreeable," For the pretty, gentle bride seemed ever fearful, without asking his leave, to stir even for a moment from his side, or bestow her at- tention on another when in his presence. The two Miss Beauchamps made their ap- 262 DAUGHTEKS. pearance, but were never permitted to move beyond the boundary of their mother's observa- tion; benefiting consequently little by the comparative liberty of a large party. They were handsome girls — the eldest strik- ing in her appearance. It must have been not a little trying to their patience^ to be cut off so completely from any communication with the gentlemen of the party ; many of whom shewed every inclination to make polite advances to- wards the young ladies of the house ; but who they soon found unapproachable, from the magic circle drawn around them by their for- midable mother. The Miss Beauchamps had each a fortune of thirty thousand pounds, and perhaps this circumstance was one of the reasons upon which Lady Rachel based her conduct towards her persecuted daughters ; imagining that their pecuniary advantages might expose them to the advances of mercenary aspirants. For the better security of their persons in case of being DAUGHTEKS 263 occasionally obliged to remove her own eyes from the girls, Lady Eachel had installed as a sort of duenna, the head governess — an elderly person, who consequently made her appearance amongst the company, acting her part to per- fection — as stern and stiff in appearance, as even her ladyship could desire, saying little, but seeing everything. She had gone through truly a hardening fur- nace, poor Miss Ricketts — no wonder she issued forth from it the stiff moulded impenetrable mettle of which she appeared composed. Sixteen years before, she had entered the family as a sort of nursery governess. A well educated but poverty stricken individual, she soon discovered, her only chance of securing her present situation, and the means of subsis- tence it afforded, was by fashioning herself after the wishes and ideas of Lady Rachel— steeling her heart against any particle of the softer feelings of her nature which might have stood in the way of the calling, decidedly marked out by her patroness. 264 DAUGHTERS. Like the task-masters of Pharaoh, her heart seemed to harden with her employer's, enabling her unrelentingly to follow the increasing re- quirements of her position, to draw tighter and tighter the bands of school-room discipline and bondage, according as her pupils advanced in years and decreased in passive humility and obeyance. The two elder girls though comparatively out of school-room domination, hated her as pri- soners loathe their unrelenting jailor. But Agnes, though •to all appearance owing her no more of love than the others — ^perhaps on the same principle as a dog attaches itself to the master who chastises it — seemed as if to cling with something like attachment and a sense of protection, to her severe and sinister looking Cerberus, The week of entertainment at an end, the DAUGHTERS. 265 household relapsed into its regular routine, and the bride settled down into the quiet and uni- formity of domestic life — unbroken save by the dinner visits they were called upon to accept, in return for the hospitality the neighbours had received from Beauchamp Towers. The domestic course of life upon which Lena started, differed entirely from that which gene- rally awaits a young wife's first entrance into the state of matrimony. There was in her case none of the excitement and sense of importance generally attendant on stepping into the new post of mistress of an establishment — an event, be it of a cottage or a palace, ever bringing with it some feeling of pleasurable pride to a young house-^keeper's heart. But Lena found herself merely admitted a member of a household as an honoured guest rather than a mistress — every thing arranged and prepared — nothing left either to desire or command. Hers was however not the disposi- VOL I. N 266 DAUGHTERS. tlonta cavil at tliis, even in thought : submissively and contentedly Lena conformed to the ap- pointed character she was expected to fill in her new position. That character seemed evidently to be wife to Mr. Beauchamp — nothing else. She was to be of no use either as mistress of a family, or occasional companion to her sisters-in-law ; her husband appearing determined by his constant devotion to leave her no plea for desiring any other occupation or companionship. Their mornings were spent together in reading and writing ; afterwards— weather permitting — walking, rid- ing or driving. Their evenings on the model of the first, passed at Beauchamp Towers — save that music was sometimes introduced, rendering their tediousness more supportable. And Lena received weekly letters from her family, their arrivals constituting her greatest delight. Not so much pleasure did she feel in replying to them, for she felt her answers to be unsatisfactory and constrained, not the sponta- neous effusions of her heart DAUGHTERS. 267 This perhaps happened because her husband was near her when she wrote, and she knew, ge_ nerally expected that she would oiFer the letter when finished for his perusal. And of facts she had little to relate, after she had once made her family au fait with the programme of her existence — the books and work with which she was engaged ! She had little familiar inter- course with her sisters-in-law ; when her hus- band was forced by business to absent himself for some hours during the day. Lady Rachel took his place as her companion in her drives — and if on such occasions her sisters-in-law were allowed to visit her in her apartments. Miss Ricketts was of the party, and sat, whilst they read together some most dry obstruse work chosen by that lady herself. It seemed next to impossible that anything like excitement or rebellion could disturb the strict discipline which regulated the movements of the inmates N 3 2&B DAUGHTERS. of tHe Towers ; any outburst of impatience ois iliepart of tlie girls would have appeared to Lena, as startling and momentous a crisis as a prison mutiny — ^yet from Lints she had received she surmised that such things were not of unheard of occurrence. However, the long winter months passed on in outwardly unbroken quiet — Lena, herself perhaps, in a great degree proving the peace preserver. Any break or change in a state of existence sueh as the Beauchamps, is in some mea- sure a relief — a kind of spur to the spirit — an infusion of new life ; and the fact of a fresh in- mate being established in the mansion was an important event — ^much more so when that inmate was of a nature so angelic — her very presence seeming an antidote against har&hness, unkind- ness,and alluncharitableness. It seemed to force imconseiously some forbearance even from the unrelenting Lady Rachel ; and calm into submis- sion the oppressed spirits writhing under her y oke. Even Miss Eicketts — poor Agnes had re- DAUGHTERS. 269 marked, with wonder — had once or twice been seen to relax into something like a smile, and with a slight moisture in her stern eye, reply gently when addressed by Lena's sweet, sub- missive, half timid Toice. The first emotions of marked pleasure or pain produced in the young wi£e's breast, by any particular event since her arrival at Beau- champ Towers, were elicited on the following occasiono She one day received a letter from her brother Alick, announcing that his regiment had changed its quarters firom Scotland to Eng- land, and proposing that he should visit his dear sister, to make up for his great disappoint- ment in having failed to obtain leave to attend her wedding. The prospect ef seeing this best loved brother was, as may be imagined, a source of great delight, and with that feeling sparkling in her face, Lena laid the lette.' before her hus- band, to receive his sympathy and expressions 270 DAUGHTERS. of gratification at the expected pleasure. It came not as unhesitatingly as she would have imagined ; and then he said he would defer his answer, as it required further consideration. At first Lena deemed this manner of pro- ceeding but a part of her husband's natural manner ; a sort of tiresome way which he had of conferring a favour. She had little idea poor girl I that one of the greatest delights her fancy contemplated, in- deed the hope which had sustained her, in this her new and very different existence — the free admission of her family into her home — was so early to be put under restriction. Sharp was the pain which struck upon her heart, when kindly — ^but firmly, her hus- band in the evening began to speak upon the subject of the letter — informing her that it was his intention to take her to London in the spring — that there it would be quite certain she would see her brother as his regiment was at Hounslow, adding he would therefore DAUGHTERS. 271 prefer her writing, to postpone the pleasure of meeting him till that period " I must own," Mr. Beauchamp said " that I incline towards my mother's scruples upon the subject of admitting a young man into our domestic circle on such familiar terms as a visit in a country house from your brother must entail — on account of my sisters, these objec- tions arise." Poor Lena was thunderstruck, and could not conceal her dismay and disappointment. What ! write and tell dear Alick — that brother so pe- culiarly sensitive in his feelings — so like her- self in heart and disposition — who she knew would feel hurt, rather than angry and provoked, as Gerald would perhaps have been — write and tell him that he must not come — '^hat she could not receive him in her own house! — the very idea was heart-breaking. " Lionel !" she faltered through the rising tears which well nigh choked her utterance, ** Alick might spend his time entirely with us 272 DAUGHTERS. — he need only stay a very few days— and never even see your sisters, if Lady Eachel object to that. But what harm could ensue even if they were thrown together ? Dear Alick," she added in a tone of slightly injured feeling, " will care to speak to none but me whilst he is here." Mr. Beauchamp looked and felt sorry and annoyed at witnessing his gentle wife's distress ; but was perhaps only the more reconciled to his determination, on perceiving the too earnest desire which this unusual excitement manifes- ted for the society of another. " I never interfere with my mother's ideas and scruples with regard to my sisters, Lena," he continued ; " whilst they are in my house I feel it my duty not to disregard Lady Rachel's wishes. I trust there may be many future op- portunities of receiving your brother at the Towers, either in the absence of my mother and sisters — an event which sometimes occurs — or amongst the other guests to whom the house is occasionally thrown open,'* DAUGHTERS* ^73 Finally Mr. Beauchamp concluded by re- minding poor Lena in a tone of mild reproach, that in these their first months of married life, it was soon for her to begin to long sO earnestly for other society save that of her husband; adding that it grieved him to think she could not be content to wait patiently, a few weeks, to behold a brother, when she had himself by her side. " It is not flattering to your husband, dear Lena, I confess, to wish to have our private in- course thus early disturbed. Your attention divided so completely, would be to me insup- portable." " Well !" said Lena, with a heavy sigh, " I will write to him, of course, if his coming is not agreeable to you." The sister's heart was too full to let her pursue the subject Mr. Beauchamp seemed as if by his increase of devotion and attachment to wish to atone for the wound he still unrelentingly inflicted. 274 DAUGHTERS. but whether it were that his conscience smote him, certain it is he left his young wife when the time came for her to write her unwilling letter. Lena when she was left alone had seated herself at the writing-table, with a heavy heart indited the words — " Dearest Alick !" then threw down her pen and wept, and sat imtil her tears were exhausted, without energy to proceed. She was at length startled by the entrance of her two eldest sisters-in-law, they having contrived to precede Miss Eicketts who was following with Agnes, and a book, kept for perusal on occasions, when it was thought expedient by Lady Rachel, that her daughters should visit Mrs. Beauchamp in her apartments. The girls immediately perceived that some- thing particular was amiss with their sweet sister, who could not greet them with her usual smile of welcome. " Oh !" she said when they told her for what purpose they had come^-" I haye my letter to DAUGHTERS. 27l5 write ; do, dear Amelia, ask ]VIiss Ricketts not to come just yet — I must finish it for the post" " Poor dear Lena ! and you have been crying over it !" said Hachel, compassionately taking her hand ; " does it make you sad to write home r " This letter is to my brother Alick who isf not at home just now," Lena replied. " Oh !" said Amelia looking at her sister, " we overheard something about his having proposed paying you a visit. Is he to come ?" " No — ^no I" faltered Lena ; and her tears flowed afresh, " This is too bad !" exclaimed Rachel, indig- nantly ; " however, it is only what might be expected when my mother and Lionel put their heads together. But, Lena, if I were you, I would not bear it ; what is the good of being a married woman if you are to be under Lady Rachel's dominion with the rest of us ? It is she, you may be sure, who chiefly instigates 276 DAUGHTERS. my brother in conduct such as this, though he would not have it so imagined for the world. Dear Lena, this is the time — if ever — ^to with- stand such tyranny in Lionel — I know him well. Do not be too yielding — or it is all up with you. If he have his own way now, what will it be some years hence ? There, now," added Rachel — " I have given a piece of sage advice which would bring the house about my ears were it retailed — and stone walls, they say, have ears," she added, laughing, and looking round ; " but do take my advice, and try in this instance : make a little more fight for your brother." '^ Oh, my dear Rachel, you are very kind," replied Lena ; " but I would not force Alick into any house, not even into my own, without my husband's approval; you must not try to make me a rebellious wife," she added, with a smile. " There, sit down," she continued ; " do not leave me — I never can do anything that grieves me without some kind person near to cheer me." DAUGHTEES. 277 And Lena had just taken up the pen to con- tinue her letter, when her husband, imagining that he had given her sufficient time to write half a dozen epistles, and listen to Miss Ricketfs chapter besides, made his appearance. " Still writing?" he said. " Yes, I have not yet finished my letter," Lena answered in some confusion ; " Eachel has been paying me a visit, and we have been talking." " A visit of condolence it would seem," he said looking suspiciously from the tear-stained face of his young wife, to his sister, who had risen on his entrance, and was preparing to depart. " I think condolence was necessary cer- tainly," Rachel took courage to say ; " for Lena seemed much disappointed at having her brother's visit prevented." " Pray Rachel say no more about it !" ex- claimed Lena, as she nervously hurried on 278 DAUGHTERS. with her letter ; for she saw her husband's brow overshadowed by an ominous cloud, and trem- bled lest any thing like a dispute should arise between the brother and sister. Mr. Beau- champ only looked coldly on Rachel as he said " Lena does not to seem to have profited by your lesson, Rachel." " I fear not," she murmured significantly, her colour rising. But she had gone as far with her brother as she deemed prudent, so Rachel departed — having only succeeded in placing, from hence- forth, a stronger barrier of suspicious jealousy, between the brother's wife, and sisters. DAUGHTERS. 279 CHAPTER XVIII. That continuous sweetness, which with ease Pleases all round it, from the wish to please. This was the charm that Annie's smile bestowed, The waves fresh ripple from deep fountains flow'd. Below exhaustless gratitude — above, Woman's meek temper — childhood's ready love. The new timon. Since therefore I seem to incur No danger of wishing in vain. When making good wishes for her, I will e'en to my wishes again. CoWPER. The spring following found the Camerons es- tablished in Ireland. 280 PAUGHTEKS. The General inhabited a commodious resi- dence close to the town of Athlone. The family were all prosperous and contented. To the young ones, the novelty of the existence in itself was happiness, and all around was seen through the medium of couleur de rose. Though the daughters of an officer of high rank, the girls had seen little of military life, since they were quite children. The gaiety and stir therefore of a garrison town, was constant in- terest and amusement. For the first few months the young ones were full of excitement. They listened to every blast of the trumpets in expectation of the sound ushering in some grand event ; the tout ensemble of the dashing dragoon regiments — the bearing of the men — ^their martial duties — the beautiful horses — ^managed so skilfully by the practised hands of their riders — the trappings of regi- mental finery — and then the bands of music, announcing their approach with their heart- stirring strains ! — all this was very fascinating to DAUGHTERS. 281 the eyes — and the fancy of young fresh creatures, and Mrs. Cameron, who saw in it, but the re- newal of what she had felt and enjoyed in her own youthfxd days, was scarcely inclined to enter mth less enjoyment into the lively bustl- ing life. In spite of the venerable prospect which opened to her, of soon becoming a grandmother, she found herself quite as popular, as much sought — nay, even admired by the society drawn towards them, as when years ago she had made a campaign in Ireland, the mother of babies. Mrs. Cameron felt nevertheless, how time and circumstances had changed the spirit of her dream — how completely her heart had enlisted in another cause — how since that period her own individual enjoyment in society had lost its interest and importance. And too soon she felt a blank — a regret at finding herself de- prived of the aim and object of all the pleasure she had of late taken, in worldly pursuits. How she missed the daughter she had so quickly dis- 282 DAUGHTERS. posed of — ^her sweet, her beautiful Lena ! Mrs. Cameron saw too, that had she only not have been in such a hurry, but allowed her daughter to take her chance and accompany them to Ire- land, it would not have been after all such a case of burying alive as her anxious fears had so impatiently settled, it must prove. In the secrecy of her own heart, often and often did she wish she could live over the few last months. How differently would she have acted ! Oh ! that she had now but her pretty Lena by her side, disengaged from that dull splendour and tiresome husband I There was an Irish unmarried Earl in the neighbourhood, and there was young Lord Alfred Townshend in the hussars — he was a great favourite of Mrs. Cameron's — so hand- some, so agreeable with, the other accom- paniments of rank and fortune (which certainly weighed heavily in the scale with the General's lady.) However though Mrs. Cameron was nom- inally without any daughter out, the evenings DAUGHTERS. 283 at her house were not a little enlivened by the lovely, lively, graceful girl, who though al- ways announced by her mother as not yet sixteen, and greeted when perceived by her father, by a shake of the head, and an attempt at a frown, which meant that he thought she was brought too frequently, and conspic- uously forward — seemed as free from any of the hoydenish shyness of that age, and as fully qualified to enjoy, and afford delight to society, as any young lady of more advanced years. Not but that she was completely childish and simple in heart and manner ; indeed it was that, joined to an evident superiority of sense and intellect which rendered her certainly the most fascinating little creature in the world. And Mrs. Cameron appreciated these attrac- tions only too fully, and felt it very difficult to resist the pleasure and pride of having Annie as her a2c?e-c?e- camp at her parties, as she would laughingly style the bright-eyed little beauty ; ^84 DAUGHTERS. and though the General would talk seriously and reprehensively on the subject^ a few kisses and a little coaxing from his favorite child, would stop his mouth, and reluctantly change his frowns into smiles — both Annie and Mrs. Cameron being perfectly aware that the father was never so proud or so happy as when his young daughter was before his eyes — so happy and so admired. Mrs. Cameron herself did sometimes think that it was not quite right bringing Annie forward so very early ; and perhaps her conscience might occasionally smite her when the conviction flashed across her mind, on how much of vanity her weakness in this respect was founded. Would she have acted thus if a plainer, a less attractive child had been in question ; although in that case the indiscre- tion was so much less likely to prove in- jurious ? But after all, Mrs. Cameron only acted as most mothers would, and do act under such circumstances. "We fear they must all plead DAUGHTERS. 286 guilty if brought to a strict examination. Few parents, especially mothers, exist of natures sufficiently philosophical not to prize and take delight in the external advantages pos- sessed by their children. It is a fault, or rather a frailty, which will ever cling to the natural man. Philosophers may urge the wisdom of de- spising personal charms — moralists endeavour to correct the estimate of their value, but they will ever fail to teach man's heart to despise or even to value aright these pleasant gifts. None but a higher power, the power of Him who bestows the gifts, can render clear the parents' vision to estimate them as they are seen by His all-piercing glance — as "the flowers of the field which to-day are, and to-morrow are cast into the oven — as the grass that withereth ere it is cut down," so is beauty — evanescent — uncertain! God alone can disci- pline the parents' heart to prize it in their children as perishable, fading delights — 2S6 DAUGHTERS. " Which do awhile to sport among But not to love too fervently." to gladden their hearts, as the sight of loveliness must ever do—but not to make alas ! as too often is the case, the God of their idolatry a — snare and a destruction, not only to themselves — but — ^heavier still the responsibility! — to those worshipped idols. Who first instilled the seeds of vanity, worldliness and folly, into their children's hearts, and turned them on " the downward slope to death ?" Dreadful thought when the answer too often of the fallen child of beauty must be --"My Mother !!" The General having permission to attach a son to his military staff, Gerald Cameron gazetted into a good Infantry regiment about the same time, acted in the capacity oi aid-de- DAUGHTERS. 287 camp to his father for a few months. During this period however the General had discovered the expediency of making some change in these arrangements. He saw that the ease and indulgence of such home service was injurious to the peculiar character of Gerald, and likely to prove preju- dical to the habits of industry and good disci- pline so essential in a soldier; the father there- fore decided that his son should join his regi- ment, which had about eighteeen months foreign ser\ace to complete at Gibraltar; the young man being far from reluctant to embark upon the enlarged sphere which would thus be given to his experience of the world and his profession. The plan being communicated to the Came- rons' kind friends, the Duke and Duchess of Stratheden, a request was made by them, with which it was most grateful to the General's feelings to be able immediately to comply. It was that he should appoint as aid-de-camp in Gerald's stead, a young man of the name of 288 DAUGHTERS. Mildmay, wlio was about to join the Hus- sars, quartered at . He was a connec- tion of the Duchess, and the son of a particulai; friend. The young cornet therefore immediately after his arrival at Athlone was presented to the General and attached to his staff. General Cameron was much pleased with the gentlemanly bearing of the new aid-de^camp. He was exactly the sort of person he would have chosen from amongst a hundred other young men, more striking and showy in their appearance ; for there was something pecu-^ liarly and irresistibly gentlemanlike in his person and deportment, giving at once the as^ surance that in every capacity, private or public, he was sure to bear himself with credit and propriety. Perhaps it would be no less favourable to the young man in the General's eyes, as his thoughts glanced towards his pretty daughters, that certainly the new aid-de- camp was by no means, what could be called handsome. DAUGHTERS. 289 He was not above one and twenty — rather below the middle stature — delicate in appear- ance, but interesting in face and features, as well as in manner and demeanour ; and as we before said, most strikingly gentlemanlike. The first time he joined the dinner party at the General's, it chanced to be Annie's birthday, which formed a legitimate excuse for her being admitted as one of the party. She was introduced to Mr. Mildmay just as dinner was announced, and he offered his arm to conduct her to the dining room. She sat at the bottom of the table between her new ac- quaintance and her father, who joined in the cheerful, unrestrained conversation. Annie never chatted more freely — her eyes never sparkled more merrily, and never had a long dinner, in her experience, passed so quickly, or agreeably. And Frank Mildmay, on his part, showed no symptom of thinking otherwise; indeed, during the continuation of the agree- able meal, he felt only that he was looking on VOL. I. o 290 DAUGHTERS. the brightest, and most bewitching little face he had ever beheld, was seated by the most fascinating creature in the world, whose pre- sence not a little heightened the relish of the excellent fare and capital champagne. And what more can or does a young officer ever require to make " a dinner " one of the most agreeable hours in the day ? In the evening, all the children were per- mitted to sit up to a later hour than usual, and the officers, many of whom had become, through the cheerful hospitality of General and Mrs. Cameron, quite domesticated in the family, and on intimate terms with the young people, begged for them a little dancing ; Janet and Minny being, as well as Annie, perfect little sylphides in that art. So Mrs. Cameron sat down to play for the dancers, and there was a laughing arrangement proposed by Lord Alfred Townshend, that on this occasion the usual forms should be reversed and that the ladies should select their own DAUGHTERS. 291 partners — of course, the queen of the day taking precedence in the choice ; and his Lord- ship twisted his dark moustaches with an amused smile lurking in his eye, as he watched the pretty Annie stand irresolute for an instant after her first gay laughing exclamation against such an arrangement, with colour raised and eyes most beautifully shy. Comfortably assured was his Lordsliip, towards whom the little beauty's choice would no doubt incline, and he was about to presume on his right of precedence in rank to relieve her of any modest scruples, and second her supposed wishes, by gaily advancing to offer himself as her cavalier, when, with a sudden, gazelle-like spring forward, Annie passed his Lordship, and presented her hand with a frank, unaffected smile, to Frank Mildmay. This act might have arisen from a slight impulse of coquettish contrariety, or, aS in- deed it appeared, from kind civility towards the least familiar of the guests. But Frank o 3 292 DAUGHTERS, Mildmay paused not to consider why or whence the action flowed ; he only looked and felt charmed and flattered as he ought to be ; whilst Lord Alfred turned towards Mrs. Cameron with a shrug, and a smile of good- natured discomfiture, and suffered himself to be monopolized by Minny, whom he was soon swinging gaily round, following his young subaltern, and fairy-footed partner. The General was, with a benevolent smile, looking on this little scene; Annie's conduct seeming to him but as one of the specimens of the usual good taste, and judicious feeling which appeared naturally to prompt every impulse of his young daughter. It was just the mode of proceeding to please his kind, high-minded feelings. It did not occur to him, how seldom a young heart is quite disinterested and single minded in such matters — he was only glad to perceive, as he watched the graceful, agile move- ments of the well paired couple, how excellent a partner his Annie had won for her paina ; DAUGHTERS, 293 that was the extent to which, good easy-hearted man ! his thoughts and feelings were carried on the subject. If his mind wandered from the sufficiency of the present moment, from its pleasant occu- pation of witnessing the happiness and enli- vening mirth which he beheld so many dear ones in the act of enjoying, it was not that he was drawn away into the busy realms of specu- lating thoughts, but because, some sudden pang of regret pierced his heart, that the present happiness was not more conplete — complete as it might have been scarcely a year before, when his group of flowrets was unbroken — when one poor little girl, since cut down and hidden from his sight, flourished strong and healthful with its sister buds— and Lena, his gentle, be- loved^ eldest daughter, was not, as now, trans- planted from the only sphere which suited her age and peculiar cast of character — her home and the bosom of her family. This marriage of Lena's was an event ^94 DAUGHTERS. wHch the General had not as yet brought him- self to contemplate with satisfaction. Indeed the idea rankled in his heart, that it had been a hurried business. Much he blamed himself for having forwarded the affair in any way, and committed the piece of madness — as it now seemed to him— of giving away his darling child — for what — for her good it was presumed. For a fine house — an establishment — a rich husband, or the old story, " for a name and for a ring," all of which something whispered to his heart, she would as soon be without — nay would at that moment willingly relinquish to be but once more Lena Cameron, smiled on like her sisters, by the eyes of those she loved so well. Ah, fond father, the shadow of his fancy would not so soon have yielded to the influence of the pleasant reality of the scene before him, if he could have imagined how over true might be the picture his tender imagining had drawn ! DAUGHTERS. 295 Mrs. Cameron had added her smiles to those of her husband upon the pleasant scene around them, but ere her fingers had rattled many bars of the enlivening waltzes, her mind had taken a wider range — it lingered not upon the present moment ; her active fancy could leave the present to take care of itself— her wisdom wasted not itself in idle regrets upon the past — what profit — what reparation in re- gret ? " The past is past," the future is the only hopeful field of action. It was thus when the first passion of grief for poor Carry's death had exhausted itself, Mrs. Cameron had roused herself from the still subduing sorrow, for the sake of the living dear ones who claimed her active love and care ; and she went " Cheerily to work again With heart new strung and set—" with patient courage, and firm fortitude, how 296 DAUGHTERS. beautiful, had that work, in which she thus^ engaged been sanctified by a less worldly spirit ! But alas ! how soon was it seen, that the probing wound of maternal bereavement closed without producing the effect which He who loveth when He chasteneth doubtless in His merfey intended. The sorrow had not taught the mother to seek earnestly the best gifts for her children, and leave their earthly portion in the hands of Him who clotheth the lilies of the field, and much more would care for them*— she remembered not how soon could be set at nought, all her worldly carefulness and trouble, that truly these cherished treasures fade as sud- denly as the frail flower. In Lena's case we saw how eagerly she stretched forth her hand for the great things, or rather the glittering shades offered to her view ; and even now, when the fancied delight had proved disappointing in the sensible enjoyment she expected to taste from her suc- cess in its attainment — as the fabled apple DAUGHTERS. 297 proved to him, who reached it but to find it nouscht but ashes between his teeth— still Mrs. Cameron was not discouraged. It was well after all, that she had accomplished Lena's marriage ; it was advantageous to her child, in every point of view, though perhaps as far as she herself was concerned, it might have been more agreeable, had the bias of the character of the husband been different. However, the deed was done, and the sanguine spirited mother formed future plans, without casting backward thoughts on the irrevocable past. The busy imagination of Mrs. Cameron, was now engaged in building castles — founded on an idea which had just pierced her brain — that there had been something more of real than mock pique and discomfiture in the glance of her favorite Lord Alfred, when Annie had chosen another for her partner in the waltz ; and then came the sobering reflection that An- nie was too young to be loved and wooed by the Marquis's brother, who though not heir to the o 5 298 DAUGHTERS. title, possessed advantages sufficient to render him not unworthy — even of Annie ! Therefore, the ambitious mother followed with her eyes, the pretty pair of waltzers, thinking little how- ever of young Mildmay, except that she re- joiced that her beautiful child had found a partner, who served to show off to such great advantage the dancing of the graceful girl, whose movements she was not slow to perceive, were followed with much interest by Lord Alfred ; and with her mind's eye fixed on one object — one desire alone engrossing her thoughts — Mrs. Cameron witnessed without heed or annoyance many such dances — many such traits of Annie's kindness to, and prefer- ence of, the young aide-de-camji. Frank Mild- may became quite a child of the family, but there was also always Lord Alfred with his dazzling appearance and handsome person, to eclipse and overshadow him in Mrs. Cameron's eyes — and of course she concluded, in Annie's also. But as it is in most cases fortunate, we DAUGHTERS. 299 see not all with the same eyes, and there is a homely proverb — the expressiveness of which must plead as an excuse for its want of elegance — to the truth of which, Mrs. Cameron might have ere long to open wide her sagacious eyes— *' What is one marCs meat, is another man's poison /" BOO DAUaHTEKS, CHAPTER XIX. The rose grows on her cheek : is there no thorn V Bakrt Cornwall. On passing through London on the eve of embarkation, Gerald Cameron was gladly met by Alick — his brother shadow — as the former was wont laughingly to denominate him ; for though in form and nature the twin brothers were the " whole matter and copy" one of the other, Alick, both as to size and coloring, was a softer, more delicate type of the manly DAUGHTERS. 301 looking Gerald ; he might have seemed almost a spiritualized edition to that of the — in all res- pects — more earthly brother. " And Lena — I am longing to see her — poor little darling !" was Gerald's exclamation, ere he had passed ten minutes in his brother's society at the hotel which had been their rendezvous—" Come with me, Alick, there's a good fellow, to Belgrave Square — I suppose you are a pretty constant ^dsiter there. How- do you get on with Beauchamp and the de- lectable Lady Rachel?" " Oh, I have not much to do with her Lady- ship," Alick replied ; " I am an occasional guest at their state dinners, but then of course I can expect nothing more than the " how do you do," and " I hope you are well, Mr. Cameron," with which I am honored, and which is quite sufficient for me, I assure you," added he in a tone of some haut pang to their affectionate hearts. On enquiring in Belgrave Square for Mrs. Beauchamp they were shown into the receiving drawing-room, which was vacant on their en- trance, but in less than the five minutes employed in transferring the announcement of their arrival from one servant to another, till it reached Mr. Beauchamp's own footman, a light, hurried step was heard in the anti-room, the door flew open which was as hastily but carefully closed, and Lena with a bright, fresh, kindled glow lighting up her fair face and beautiful eyes, cast one de- 306 DAUGHTERS. lighted gaze upon them, as if to assure herself that the pleasure were indeed a reality, and then threw herself into Gerald's open arms, receiving his warm embraces with the clinging, gentle gratification of an affectionate child. " Such a fine lady ! I declare I am almost afraid to touch her !" Gerald at length said, as after having exhausted his first fervour, he held his lovely sister at arm's length and gazed upon her richly, fashionably attired form, with playful wonder and admiration. " But these are the same as ever," he added, as he stroked the long fair ringlets, which in beautiful dis- order were flowing around her shoulders. Lena laughed and blushed, then disen- gaging herself from Gerald, turned affec- tionately but with a chastened joy to embrace her other brother. " Dear Alick," she said, " I have not seen you for many days ; " and she looked not re- proachfully, but with somewhat of timid inquiry into his face. DAUGHTERS. 307 He made some not very satisfactory excuse. Seating herself between the two brothers, she began her eager questionings about the dear ones from whom Gerald had so lately come — her cheeks varying from pale to red and from red to pale ; her eyes now smiling — now suf- fusing tearfully as she listened to the lively, graphic touches, by which he brought them all before her. " And now let me hear something of your- self and your concerns," Gerald broke off, after having with tolerable patience indulged her for more than half an hour with desultory infonnation. " How do you get on ? You look well ; rather paler than when you first came into the room, I think, but as fair and beautiful a lady as ever. Your husband quite well, I hope, and Lady Rachel and the Miss Beauchamps — Miss Agnes in particular ? She is my friend. How do you like them all ?" The peaceful enjoyment of Lena's counten- ance was now clouded by a slight shade of 308 DAUGHTERS, disquiet, and by the glance of her e'ye towards the door, it was evident her thoughts were suddenly carried farther than that apartment and its occupants. She started — the colour rising to her face, as, in the act of replying in some sort to the question last addressed to her, the door opened abruptly, and Mr. Beauchamp made his appearance. He noticed, but by a cold, scarce percep- tible glance, the two young Camerons, from whom she hastily disengaged her hands, and rose with them. " I thought I should have found you ready," he said, " the carriage has been at the door several minutes." " My brothers !" said Lena, in a slightly nervous tone, and then Mr. Beauchamp shook hands, and said he was glad to see them. " Gerald only stays till to-morrow, he is on his way for embarkation," Lena suggested, looking at her husband with the wish doubt- DAUGHTERS. 309 less to postpone the intended drive, for which he had returned, after an hour's absence, to accompany her. " It is unfortunate then that you are en- gaged to dinner, or we might have had the pleasure of his company this evening," said Mr. Beauchamp. " How very unfortunate indeed!" sighed Lena ; " is there no possibility of my staying at home ?" " My dear Lena," exclaimed Mr. Beau- champ, in a tone of as much surprise and de- precation, as if she had proposed something most preposterous. " How can you think of such a thing ?" Lena never argued a point. She looked re- signed but still grieved. Gerald said, " Oh never mind ! I can come and spend to- morrow morning with you;" and he showed himself ready to depart, for he saw by Mr. 310 DAUGHTERS. Beauchamp's fidgetty looks that the waiting horses were in his thoughts. And Alick too began to look impatient for a move. " I will not detain you any longer from your drive," Gerald said ; but Lena still lingering, held his hand and cast a wistful glance from him to her husband, which he answered by saying to the young man — "You will not think your sister in good looks if you judge by her appearance this morning. I never saw you look so pale and ill, Lena — I must beg you to dress yourself directly for dri\dng — after your fatiguing morning with the mantua maker, and this un- expected interruption of the hour of rest I had left you to take, you will not be fit for any- thing to-night, if you do not get into the fresh air, and enjoy the quiet of a drive." " Perhaps we shall meet you this evening, Lena," Alick interposed ; " I suppose you are to be at Lady 's Ball. 1 have an invitation and shall procure one for Gerald." DAUGHTERS. 311 Lena looked enquiringly at her husband. " If your sister be not too much fatigued," Mr. Beauchamp answered for her ; " but just now she must not be allowed to do too much," he added, mysteriously. Lena revived by the new hope thus aiforded, would not try his patience, or rather provoke another irritable glance towards the door, but with a gayer smile said, " Oh I shall be so fresh and strong after our drive, Lionel!" She again hurriedly pressed her brother's hand, and was going hastily away, but when at the door, turned and said, " Oh ! do stay and see us off, Gerald, with my beautiful ponies!" And Gerald began to hope that his sister was happy — so easily are the young and thoughtless satisfied on the score of happiness ; A smile — a few gay, careless words are enough to re-assure them that, for the time being at least, happiness must exist. S12 DAUGHTERS. The young men went to the hall door with Mr. Beauchamp, but Alick remembering that business required his immediate attendance, made an appointment with Gerald to meet elsewhere, and walked off. The prettiest ap- pointed phaeton and ponies, with attendant outriders, stood at the door in expectation of Mrs. Beauchamp's appearance. Mr. Beau- champ had approached to make some alteration in the trappings, and Gerald stood looking on, when an equipage, drawn by a pair of heavy, slow paced horses, was seen approaching in all the pompous state of peruked coachman and powdered footmen, to which the phaeton im- mediately gave place. The steps were let down, and the high and mighty Lady Rachel descended from the coach, followed by her two eldest daughters. They had just returned from the airing, it was her ladyship's usual custom to complete at this early hour — just the moment when the most amusing time for driving was about to commence. DAUGHTERS. 313 Grerald took off his hat and stepped aside to allow her Ladyship to pass, who at first sight doubtless supposed him to be his brother. There must indeed have been great similarity between the two young men to have allowed the keen, piercing glance of Lady Rachel to rest even a moment deceived ; in another instant she perceived the difference between the care- less, easy, saucy Gerald's bow, and the retiring hauteur to which she was accustomed from the brother she was occasionally in the habit of seeing as a guest in Belgrave Square. Whether or not in consequence of this discovery — her Ladyship having most coldly and formally bent her head — she turned her steps back, and peremptorily motioned her daughters to pre- cede her, just in time to catch tae eldest in the very act of nodding her head — not un- graciously — in answer to the salutation which Gerald had then transferred to the young lady— whilst Amelia was, with curious, puzzled glance, attempting to discover whether it were VOL. I. p 314 DAUGHTERS. really the shy, quiet Mr. Alick Cameron who was looking so very delightfully gay, and saucy, even, in the very face of her mother. But the two girls were compelled to pass quickly on, daring to cast no backward glances on the young man — Lady Rachel close at their heels — and Gerald having watched them dis- appear, with an amused expression hovering on his countenance, was soon joined by Lena, look- ing most lovely in her tasteful carriage dress and he had the pleasure of placing her by the side of her husband in an equipage as well suited to her pretty person, as Lady Rachel's heavy, ostentatious vehicle seemed illustrative of her high and mighty appearance. Gerald remained a few minutes by his sister's side admiring the ponies ; but Mr. Beauchamp, with whip half raised, was evidently only in civility awaiting the completion of the com- pliments as he sat stffliy back. " Well I will not detain you any longer," said Gerald, " au revoir, Lena — to Hyde Park of course." DAUGHTERS. 315 " Oh no !" Mr. Beauchamp coldly replied, " that is too gay for us quiet people," and wheeling round he drove off in the direction of Chelsea. " Quiet people ! Slow, selfish prig !" was Gerald's inward ejaculation, " the idea of tak- ing that beautifully dressed creature off to be covered with dust on the high road that he may have her all to himself." And again by as hasty a conclusion as that by which he had dubbed his sister — " happy " the young man feared it could not be so well with his darling sister. 316 DAUGHTERS. CHAPTEE XX, " She's decked with gold and jewels rare. She moves in stately halls, A diamond band confines her hair The simple wreath of woodbine flowers Is taken from her brow, But yet she sighs for by-gone hours — Can she be happy now V* Carpenteb. The young Camerons went early to the ball in the expectation of again meeting their sister, and they were not disappointed, for she soon entered the room, looking most beautiful, lean- ing on her husband's arm. DAUGHTERS. 317 Lady Rachel and her daughters were also there — the young ladies standing unmoveably one on each side of their lady mother, except when temporarily released by the quadrille, for which they were suffered to accept the partners approved by her ladyship. " Is not that your sister ?" said a tall young man, in a low, earnest tone to Alick Cameron on the Beauchamps' entrance. *^ Yes, Sackville," answered the latter, " I fancied you were acquainted with her." The young man did not reply, save by a low sigh. Seeing the brothers moving towards the spot where Lena stood he advanced also instinc- tively towards her, but when close to her merely passed on with a formal bow. " Who is that, Lena ?" Mr. Beauchamp en- quired. " Oh ! that is Mr. Sackville, Lionel. Do you not remember," she added with a blush, " seeing him when our carriage was stopped by the accident on the day of -" 318 DAUGHTERS. " Oh ! yes, I remember that mal-apropoi rencontre. Rather an awkward moment," Mr. Beauchamp added with an equivocal smile ad-* dressing Gerald, who had taken possession of Lena's unoccupied side, " What ! you met Sackville on your wedding tour, Lena?" Gerald laughingly exclaimed, " ah ! I remember, the Duchess of Stratheden did tell us something of the sort, that she had heard from his mother — some romantic adven- 'hire which had befallen her poetical son — a narrow lane — a broken wheel — bride bathed in tears " And see o'er the valley Who rides in full speed A gallant young knight On his spirited steed."' something of that sort I suppose ?" The music did not allow Mr. Beauchamp very clearly to hear all Gerald's thoughtless nonsense, but he was not fond of joking at DAUGHTERS. 319 any time, particularly if the subject were at all connected with himself or his wife ; and he would have drawn her on, but Gerald pertina* ciously kept by their side. " Do you dance now, Lena ?" he enquired. " No !" she answered, and Mr. Beauchamp looked his disgust at the question. " Will you allow me, then, Mr. Beauchamp, to set you at liberty, and take charge of your lady for a time ?" Gerald said. " Do you not dance, Mr. Cameron?" Mr. Beauchamp coldly inquired. " I should certainly prefer my sister's society considering that I am on the eve of leaving the country," Gerald as coldly replied ; and Mr, Beauchamp having glanced at Lena's counten- ance and seen there expressed nought but ill- disguised support of her brother's wishes, dropped her arm and silently withdrew. " My dear Lena, you must not allow your husband to get into the habit of for ever sticking to your side. It is a most troublesome 320 DAUGHTERS. custom both for yourself and all your relations and friends, I assure you Alick complains bitterly of your unapproachability— of never being able to have an hour's comfortable talk with you/' said Gerald. Poor Lena looked distressed and half sur- prised ; for it was the first time that the ideas which had truly began to suggest themselves vaguely to her mind, were brought in a decided form before her. The full perception of the sad, disagreeable truth her brother's plain words conveyed, had not yet been fully understood. Meek, submissive and inexperienced, it was hard for her to realize to her mind, and rightly to comprehend, the strange spirits amongst which she found herself domesticated. Gerald would not vex her gentle spirit by pursuing farther the subject. Alick joined them, and with a sad, beseeching smile Lena invited him to take his seat on her other side, on the bench where they had placed themselves. " How delightful it is to have you both DAUGHTERS. 321 with me again ! " Lena said looking from one to another with fond affection ; almost forget- ting they were not the only people in the room. The re-united trio absorbed in each other sat talking happily some little time. They were not so unobserved — as unobservant. The interesting appearance of the three young creatures, and the striking likeness each bore to the other, plainly told their relative po- sitions, and drew upon them many a remark and many a glance, Lena being of course the prominent feature of interest to the male por- tion of the lookers on. " Lena, shall I ask one of the Miss Beau- champs to dance ?" Gerald at length demanded ; " good Heavens what a look I caught just now from Lady Rachel ! By the bye when is that poor little Agnes to be liberated ? We had such an affair down at Beechy — I should like to have another peep at her, poor little thing — does she ever mention me ?" 322 ' DAUGHTERS. ^^ No," answered Lena. " Oh, but she is a^ sly one," he continued, ** and I mean to run away with her some of these days." " Hush, dear Gerald," his sister murmured. " Oh I hope you are not afraid of that old cat. Here, Sackville I" exclaimed the thought- less Gerald, as he saw the young man hovering near, " come and tell us the story of the broken wheel, fainting bride and swearing bridegroom." " Oh, fie Gerald," interrupted Lena blush- ing and smiling, " there was no broken wheel, only broken traces ; I was not fainting, nor was I even frightened, and Mr. Beauchamp never swears." Her brothers laughed, Mr. Sackville smiled and strove to interpose some careless words on the subject, and then Lena and he began to converse as easily as they might have done a year ago, but in the midst of this pleasant talk she happened to raise her eyes, and saw, imme- diately opposite, herturbaned mother-in-law, DAUGHTERS. 323 whose gaze was fixed upon her with not the gentlest or most agreeable expression. She was speaking at the same time with curling lip to Mr. Beauchamp, and Lena felt her hour of freedom had passed, which was but too true. Mr. Beauchamp had been stopped by his mother, as he was returning from an unwilling absence and conversation, into which he had been drawn by some acquaintance in an ad- joining room. " Lionel," said she, " I think you are im- prudent to allow your lady such prejudicial ex- citement ; she will be ill, certainly." " She looks very well," Mr. Beauchamp answered, shortly ; never much relishing being dictated to by his mother, however he might agree with her in spirit ; and he did indeed think that his young wife looked particularly well— too well, perhaps, considering to what cause her glowing cheeks and animated eye seemed attributable. «' Yes, of course those flushed cheeks and 324 DAUGHTEKS. unnatural animation of eye are becoming, I allow," resumed her ladyship, " but I fear haggard looks and langour, if not far worse, will be the consequence for many days to come, considering her situation, if she be allowed to excite herself any longer with those thoughtless youths, however pleasant it may be, which certainly Mrs. Beauchamp seems to consider her present occupation. However, I have no right or inclination to interfere the least with your arrangements, Lionel, having quite suffi- cient on my hands with my own daughters. I only take the liberty of suggesting." " His wife excite herself with thoughtless youths !" These words did not sound well in Mr. Beauchamp's ears, particularly as at that moment " the thoughtless youth " with whom she was principally engaged was not one of her brothers, Alick having gone off to dance, and Gerald, though standing near, having turned his attention to other objects. " It was never my intention that Lena should DAUGHTERS. 325 remain here so long," Mr. Beauchamp said somewhat testily ; " indeed I should have taken her straight off to bed, from our dinner en- gagement, had I followed my own ideas of what was proper for her ; but that tiresome young man, Gerald, put it into her head to wish to come here, and as he is going to leave the country — " Mr. Beauchamp moving away without finish- ing his speech, approached his wife and held out his arm, saying, abruptly, " Come, my dear, I shall order the carriage round immediately, so we had better go down stairs." Lena rose immediately, but looked rather anxiously on her husband's clouded counte- nance ; scarcely giving her time to take leave of Gerald, he led her away. " Good bye, Lena, I shall see you to- morrow," Gerald called after her, whilst Sack- ville turned away sadly. " A cavalier sort of husband that ! " solilo- VOL. I. Q 326 DAUGHTERS. quized Gerald ; " but this last act was all my Lady's doing. I watched her putting Beauchamp up to it ; but I'll be quits with her." And immediately stepping forward, he arrested the steps of Kachel Beauchamp — ^whom he saw at that moment returning on a partner's arm to- wards her mother — and asked her hand for the next dance. " The next quadrille, with pleasure," she answered. "Nonsense! Quadrille? — the next waltz T Gerald answered, sufficiently loud to reach the ears of Lady Rachel. Miss Beauchamp shook her head with an understanding smile, and rejoined her mother. Gerald begged to be introduced to Miss Amelia in order that he might have the pleasure of dancing with her in the course of the evening, and then left them to the mercy of Lady Eachel's thundering looks, to waltz with a partner introduced to him by Alick. On his return to claim Miss Beauchamp's DAUGHTERS. 327 hand for the quadrille, he found her engaged in an'evident contention in his cause ; for a sheepish, extremely plain looking youth was retreating from the ground rejected as her partner — ^and Rachel Beauchamp with rather irreverent impatience stood enduring the sup- pressed tirade which Lady Rachel, with looks calculated to annihilate the tormented girl, was pouring into her ear. The young man she had rejected was a parti. " Well ! madam, would you have me insult Mr. Gerald Cameron by dancing with another person when I was engaged to him?" said Rachel. " I care not if you were to insult him, and the whole tribe," was her ladyship's flattering rejoinder. " Miss Beauchamp, may I have the plea- sure ? — " and both looking up saw Gerald at their side, but with a countenance perfectly unmoved and unabashed, although he had heard 328 DAUGHTERS. every word of Lady Rachel's speech. He presented his arm to her daughter, and led her off to the dance. " I wish Mr. Alick Cameron would ask me to dance," muttered Amelia, disconsolately; with a wistful glance towards the young officer, who passed them carelessly at that moment, with no idea of the sort in his thoughts. " I must say I cannot complain of the trou- ble given to me by my second daughter's numerous partners," Lady Eachel sneeringly observed, in allusion to poor Amelia's cavaliers^ that evening having been few and far between. " This is certainly an unsatisfactory mode of proceeding, and it will be the last London season which I shall give myself the trouble and annoyance of encountering." Amelia yawned and thought that so it might be, as far as any pleasure it had afforded her. The back stairs tricks and contrivances at the Towers she began to think were better fun and quite as profitable as the gene and mortification DAUGHTERS. 329 of a London campaign under such chaperonage ; and with sullen, apathetic looks she suffiered herself to be dragged on by her mother to a more convenient position for watcliing the movements of Rachel and her partner. This object in part obtained, served but to increase the fidgetty impatience of Lady Rachel, also the envy and interest of her companion : for from the prudent foresight of the offending couple, the situation in the quadrille they had chosen only afforded distant and occasional glimpses of their proceedings. Sufficient, however, did Lady Rachel see to raise her suspicions that something more than the few remarks of a ball-room was passing between them; treason, mischief, must be hatch- ing amidst those "gibes and jests," and then that earnest converse, which soon seemed to engross them. But when the music ceased, and instead of the immediate re-appearance which Lady Rachel's daughters were expected to make by 330 DAUaHTERS. her side, the pair vanished from before her eyes, which had therein collected all their lightning to receive them, and even some ^\e minutes had elapsed and no Kachel returned, the lady mother being informed with some malice, by an acquaintance, that her truant daughter was down stairs in the refreshment room eating ices, her irritation became past en- durance; so demanding the escort of an an- cient beau, she descended the stairs in search of the culprit, and found the young people as described, their heads close together in the en- joyment of deeply interesting discourse; so com- pletely engrossed indeed that they were not aware of the awful approach till Rachel started round in affright, having received a smart tap on her shoulder from her mother's fan. Miss Beauchamp with resigned insouciance — so experienced was she in such scenes — prepared to yield herself to the mercy of her cap- tor, whilst Gerald assailed her ladyship with such a fire of officious civility in the way of prof- DAUGHTERS. 331 fers of ices and cooling beverages, that it was some time before she was was able to shake him off and disengage herself from his malicious im- portunities, or make her daughter the peremp- tory command to follow her to the cloak-room. " But, Miss Amelia — my quadrille !" Gerald exclaimed. " My daughters dance no more to-night P — and exit Lady Kachel. . EKD VOL. I. T, C. New by, Printer, 72, Mortimer-St., Cavendish Sqxiare. ? ffiSJJp^l^M i^mm ^ff»^.5.i - ■- A --^ . ^. «• :isiM ji^/r '; iA^/ '1^ iizllmw^ ^ "''^M '>Mt^^.i::^mA-_»^ \i^$f^-lJ^: \MiUiMi I'l ^BfcfT«BB >sH TyiilrrPff^ A' i^W^ili^tfSl PPe \^ ^ Iff iiilirllllMI $ liHfflT Tffli^i -2^' ' 'f^l «*-^^i?'*p:a|^^iiii. A^^&i^fSif R»?iii ^i^^^> 3 0112 046414121 f^.f^^M s^f^;''/ "" T} y::W-ri ^^^sHIii' 1^ ^il5i*iii;M 1^ ■y •* lJP*^ f r Mw*^^l