£
 
 LI B RAFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 P&3c 
 
 v.l
 
 
 COMING OUT; 
 
 A TALE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 BY 
 
 MISS ANNA MARIA PORTER. 
 
 " What mighty ills from small beginnings flow 1"
 
 COMING OUT; 
 
 AND 
 
 THE FIELD OF 
 
 THE FORTY FOOTSTEPS. 
 
 BY 
 
 JANE AND ANNA MARIA PORTER. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 PRINTKn FOB 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, 
 
 PATERNOSTEll-ROW. 
 
 1828.
 
 London: 
 
 Printed by A. & R- Spottiswoodc, 
 New-Street-Square.
 
 Y.I ■ 
 
 PREFATORY ADDRESS 
 
 TO 
 
 THE READER OF « COMING OUT." 
 
 ^ 
 
 v^X HE reception given by an indulgent 
 ^^ public to my novel of " Honor O^Hara'* 
 has encouraged me to make another 
 effort in the same style. 
 
 I am aware that works professedlv 
 written to display existing manners are 
 .„ now generally taken up with the expect- 
 § ation of finding living characters, masked 
 in under feigned names : it might be politic 
 I in a writer, therefore, to take advantage 
 of this growing taste for personality. But 
 disliking both the principle and the prac- 
 tice of such unfair painting, I beg leave 
 A 2 I
 
 IV PREFATORY ADDRESS. 
 
 to disclaim either the merit or the 
 odium of having drawn one intentional 
 portrait throughout the following pages : 
 yet do I freely acknowledge having 
 availed myself of some well-known inci- 
 dents in the life of an interesting indivi- 
 dual, to swell the events, and enforce the 
 lesson of my story. 
 
 Appearing as I now do, for a second 
 time, in a joint work with my sister, and 
 once more taking that precedence of her 
 to which I am in no way entitled, I trust 
 the candid reader will believe me inca- 
 pable of such assumption upon any other 
 ground than that of a mutual persuasion, 
 that the effect of our very different 
 stories would be heightened by giving 
 the tale of the lightest character first. 
 
 ANNA MARIA PORTER. 
 
 ESHER, 
 
 November, 1827.
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Bai*ry, two careless 
 giddy persons, though beyond a certain 
 age, were one morning listening to the 
 gossip of Dublin, from an elegant En- 
 glish countess, as she waited for fresh 
 post-horses to carry her on to Waterford, 
 when the sound of laughter, remon- 
 strances, entreaties, and coramands, from 
 an outer room, made her Ladyship ab- 
 ruptly enquire what all that noise was 
 about. Colonel Barry could do no less 
 than start from his seat, and open the 
 door of the offending room. 
 
 The noise was found to arise from a 
 contention between the Colonel's only 
 
 VOL. I. * B
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 son, a fashionable young man, just of age, 
 and his eldest daughter, a blushing girl 
 of fourteen. Mr. Barry having been sen^^ 
 to the green-house upon an errand 6i^ 
 Lady Donnington's, had surprised his ^ 
 sister there, dressed up in flowers of 
 every hue, reciting verses to her go^'-i 
 verness ; and, with a mixture of pride^^ 
 and petulance, had dragged her intO> ' 
 the house, that he might present her to 
 his acquaintance, the English peeresSp^l 
 who had, at his request, condescended-'^ 
 to stop a quarter of an hour^afc j!Gastfe>3 
 Barry. ■■ ^-'- i^nol 
 
 Girhsh bashfulness and girlish strength ^ 
 were no match for manly obstinacyv^' 
 Alicia was whirled into the aw^ful pr^^^" 
 sence by one jerk of her brother's arnv/i^ 
 and stood for a few moments motionlesjif' ' 
 in the centre of the room. She knew^^^ 
 herself to be childishly hung about witbu 
 flowers ; little aware that her own com- 
 plexion would cause the garden roses 
 and liUes to be overlooked. 
 
 As Marcus Barry gaily said he bad^- 
 
 J vj-^j oi
 
 COMING OUT. 3 
 
 brought a little masquerader to present 
 to her Ladyship, Lady Donningtoii drew 
 Alicia somewhat unceremoniously for- 
 ward, and scrutinising her cheeks and 
 lips through an eye-glass, as if expecting 
 to detect paint there, exclaimed, while 
 she released her, *' Madame Ventadour's 
 bouquet of jewels, I protest ! *' 
 
 Lady Donnington again took her by the 
 hand, and surveyed her from head to 
 foot. The youthful creature she thus 
 contemplated, had as yet only the slight 
 /orm and flying step of vernal girlhood ; 
 but her face was already a blaze of 
 beauty. A significant glance was ex- 
 changed between her Ladyship and the 
 mother : Colonel Barry rubbed his hands 
 triumphantly : Marcus Barry looked at 
 his sister as if he had never seen her 
 before : Alicia held down her head, and 
 fancied herself an object of ridicule. The 
 English peeress broke the momentary 
 silence by telling Mr. Barry to take his 
 sister away, for she was evidently longing 
 to get back to her good-humoured go- 
 verness. Mr. Barry obeyed ; and as
 
 4 COMING OUT. 
 
 Alicia raised her head, her beautiful face 
 almost lightened with pleasure : she was 
 out of the room the next moment. 
 
 '' What do you call your daughter's 
 hair ? " asked Lady Donnington, in a 
 tone of pretty petulance. " Nothing 
 upon earth is like it, except pheasants' 
 feathers — the gold brown ones I mean. 
 — It must be sprinkled wdth some glit- 
 tering dust — and w^hat floods of light 
 for eyes ! What are they ? — Sapphires, 
 amethysts, or diamonds ? " 
 
 Marcus Barry, who was then entering, 
 w^as sufficiently acquainted wdth Lady 
 Donnington's expectations, not to with- 
 hold the accustomed tribute of professing 
 himself immensely entertained by so 
 lively and original a mode of extolling 
 his sister ; and hazarded, in consequence, 
 a little piquant raillery upon the suppo- 
 sition of Alicia's eyes being the colour of 
 Lady Donnington's lilac bonnet. 
 
 Her Ladyship immediately undertook 
 to prove, that by mere dint of excessive 
 lustre, the azure of an eye might be so 
 confused with the delicate glow of small
 
 COMING OUT. O 
 
 blood vessels near it, as to appear of a 
 rich purple. Colonel Barry professed 
 himself incapable of saying whether his 
 daughter's eyes were lilac or lead colour 5 
 if they pleased Lady Donnington he was 
 delighted. Mrs. Barry owned to having 
 once thought them greyish, but now 
 they seemed to be no colour at all — only 
 very bright. Mr. Barry deponed that 
 certain aged bog-trotters, who pretended 
 to a large acquaintance with the ancient 
 kings of Erin, pronounced them to be 
 of the true Milesian blue. Lady Don- 
 nington had done with the subject of 
 eyes, and was now raving upon that of 
 
 ■ skin. " Alabaster itself ! " she ex- 
 claimed j *' and those lips ! so exactly 
 like my bracelets.'' (Touching one formed 
 of those transparent red beads called 
 Tartar coral.) " Really, Mrs. Barry, you 
 
 -•might show her ! — How old is she ? " 
 " Fourteen. " — 
 
 >!/ " Fourteen !" echoed her Ladyship ; 
 
 '..V* to think of such a pretty face not being 
 
 re^dy to take about, when there are no 
 
 less than three coronets almost going a 
 
 B 3
 
 :;$ COMING OUT. 
 
 begging ! — only fancy her one of the 
 Miss Everleigh's ! Poor Lady Charles 
 would die no other death. If your 
 daughter don't fall off, and if you only 
 know how to play such a hand well — 
 Mr. Barry, I charge you not to purloin 
 that flower — it is my property, though 
 just now on the carpet." 
 
 In spite of this immediate change of 
 subject, Mrs. Barry was on the verge of 
 asking if she might, at the end of three 
 years, presume to beg Lady Donnington's 
 advice how to play such cards ; but re- 
 collecting that until this morning she had 
 not even a visiting acquaintance with 
 this luminary of fashion, and that it was 
 considered the height of presumption to 
 ask Lady Donnington anything, she suc- 
 ,^eeded in keeping silence. 
 
 Upon this identical morning, how- 
 ever. Lady Donnington chose to be " di- 
 vine." She was amused, perhaps she 
 was even flattered, by the sentimental 
 tone of her youngest companion's admi- 
 ration. " I would not undertake bring- 
 ing out a young lady for worlds," she
 
 COMING OUT. 7 
 
 ' jbxclaimed to him ; " but if I were forced 
 to do it, I would certainly come praying 
 and begging for your sister; she would 
 be taken off my hands so directly ! — O ! 
 there are the horses. Mrs. Barry, do let 
 me advise you to keep your girl quite up, 
 till you bring her out in DubHn. Don't 
 let her wear anything but vast poke bon- 
 
 'i nets, and ankle- high walking shoes ; and 
 
 "i" wooden shawls — not woollen— for the 
 next three years. Above all, don't let 
 people know even that you have a daugh- 
 .ter. Now, Mr. Barry, you may gather 
 
 ' up all those beauteous flowers, and put 
 them into my carriage. Do see that my 
 maid has neither left herself nor a certain 
 enormous thatched basket behind : I am 
 ruined if the basket is forgot! Good 
 morning, Mrs. Barry ; good morning, 
 Colonel Barry ; I am so obliged to you 
 for this load of orange flowers," dropping 
 them nearly all as she spoke, and care- 
 lessly walking over those which Mr. 
 Barry had previously let fall on the floor, 
 -^ and away she went, enlightening her 
 gallant escort as she hurried through the 
 B 4
 
 "^ COMING OUT. 
 
 hall, upon the subject of the thatched 
 basket, and the^d/5 within it. ' "^'^ 
 
 Lady Donnington, after raving of the 
 beautiful child she had seen at Castle 
 Bany, on her rapid way by Milford 
 Haven, totally forgot the bright vision 
 wHeti once established in her own hotisii 
 in London. Immersed in the privati^ 
 politics and parties of /fer world; triumph- 
 antly candying all before her fashiorf/ 
 power, influence, and spurious talent 
 (the * meagre talent of sayiiig forced 
 things with an air of ease), she remetri^ 
 bered no more of a very short visit to 
 Ireland, than what helped her to a few 
 brilliant allusions, when some of the high- 
 est class of absentees fell in her w^ay, and 
 were found worthy of being entertained. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Barry were, indeed, 
 merely acquaintances of that single half 
 hour w^hich Lady Donnington had con- 
 descended to use in repeating to them, 
 as imprompttis,^"a '.l^trhig^'of maliciou^' 
 pleasantries, orrather scandals, which she 
 had been playing off to other audiences 
 -ere she reached AVaterford. It is true.
 
 COMING OUT. y 
 
 she had seen them both at the Castle; 
 but the Dubhn court is as much intruded 
 upon as that of St. James's ; so that she 
 would have known of them no more, 
 had not their son been aide-de-camp to a 
 popular general, handsome to boot, emu- 
 lous of notice, and fertile in expedients 
 for attracting it to himself. Once led to 
 notice Mr. Barry, Lady Donnington 
 found it extremely convenient to have 
 such a person always in attendance, to do 
 her bidding as exactly as Ariel did Pros- 
 pero's, and with prompt self-love be ever 
 ready to interpret her insolent exactions 
 and unceremonious neglects by fits and 
 starts, into any meaning, except that of 
 intentional slight to himself. 
 
 The young aide-de-camp fancied him- 
 self Lady Donnington's envied favourite, 
 elevated, therefore, into a rank for which 
 many of his superiors sighed in vain, 
 when, in fact, he was laughed at by 
 one half of the Irishmen, who, knowing 
 little of Lady Donnington's supremacy 
 in the sister kingdom, " wondered how 
 Barry could prefer Autumn to Spring ;'* 
 B 5
 
 %0 COMING OUT. 
 
 and pitiedbytboseof better feeling, wbo, 
 knowing her consequence, foresaw the 
 folly and ruin such favour might produce. 
 Lady Donnington herself had not the 
 slightest measure, in her way of speaking 
 about her new slave : it was, " That good- 
 natured Mr. Barry !"— «' That civil, well- 
 behaved person !" — ** That best sort of 
 page in the world !" — So that no one 
 could doubt that Lady Donnington 
 looked upon him only as one of those 
 useful persons whom the arrogant and 
 heartless, order about at will, for months 
 or years, and wholly drop when no lon- 
 ger wanted. ; ^4).,.,. 
 For two months had she wasted 'in ost 
 of Mr. Barry'^s time, more of his common 
 sense, and all his money, when the whim 
 which brought her to Ireland took her 
 as suddenly back, — or, rather, she thought 
 she had staid precisely long enough to 
 make all London wish for her ; yet not 
 so long as to force them into the dis- 
 covery that they could go on without 
 her. — So it was, that after a tour along 
 the north coast to see the Giant's Cause-
 
 COMING OUT, 11 
 
 way, and a tour across the island to Kil- 
 larney, her Ladyship announced her in- 
 tention of returning home by Milford 
 Haven ; Mr. Barry's paternal home was 
 discovered to lie almost directly in the 
 way to the port of Waterford : — 
 " Lady Donnington must change horses 
 within a mile or two of Castle Barry, 
 why not do his mother the honour of 
 waiting for them at Castle Barry?" — 
 Lady Donnington thought ** it was just 
 possible she might do so :'' — Marcus 
 Barry was that night half way to Water- 
 ford, before his sovereign dictatress had 
 awakened from her first sleep. 
 r One hour after his hasty arrival, ser- 
 vants were marshalled, elegancies ar- 
 ranged, refreshments prepared, flattering 
 accidents pre-concerted. Colonel and Mrs. 
 Barry elate with gratification and ex- 
 pectation, when the commanding Coun- 
 tess appeared. 
 
 • Her Ladyship could not have entered a 
 hotel with less ceremony, or refused the 
 really elegant dejeune set before her, with 
 a more decided yet unnoticing negative. 
 B 6
 
 12 COMING OUT. 
 
 She was, however, full of conversation ; 
 and though mortifymgly indifferent to 
 what the Banys piqued themselves upon, 
 the elegance of their furniture, and the 
 costliness of their breakfast China, her 
 admiration of their daughter, together 
 with the hopes it had excited, were a rich 
 equivalent. 
 
 After she was gone, Colonel Barry 
 owned that his son had, indeed, acquired a 
 most valuable friend ; likely, from her con- 
 nection with one of the first military cha- 
 racters of the age, to be of much greater 
 service to him than old General Granby. 
 Mrs. Barry made herself sure that Lady 
 Donnington would offer to bring Alicia 
 out as soon as she was seventeen — she read 
 it in her Ladyship's fine piercing eyes. 
 
 Upon these two unwarranted notions, 
 these foolish parents almost immediately 
 acted. Marcus was given a car^te blanche 
 for his future plans ; and Alicia was in- 
 stantly put into a huge straw cage, by 
 way of bonnet. 
 
 Important events were the conse- 
 quences of this visit : in truth, it decided
 
 COMING OUT. 13 
 
 the fate of every creature to whom Lady 
 Donnington had been uttering her per- 
 nicious counsel, without even the excuse 
 of being interested in their advancement. 
 Did we but know the issues of our light- 
 est words ! — but our story must moralise 
 for itself. 
 
 Colonel Barry, who was just beginning 
 to turn over some notions of needful re- 
 trenchment, readily dismissed such un- 
 seasonable changes from his mind, at the 
 suggestion of his wife ; obliging her yet 
 further, by refraining from damping his 
 son's spirits with the disagreeable Intel- 
 ligence that their West India estates 
 were declining. On the contrary, the 
 Colonel himself felt almost persuaded 
 that the popular delicacies would soon be 
 rum and sugar ; and that his particular 
 estates would as surely produce double 
 the quantity of other men's. At all 
 events, money was alv/ays to be had on 
 good interest ; and tradesmen could wait; 
 and if a grand push could only be made 
 now, the future aggrandisement of their 
 family was a matter of course. Marcus,
 
 ^4i COMING OUT. 
 
 translated from Dublin to London, would 
 gain, by his intimacy at Donnington 
 House, a reputation worth ten thousand 
 a year; consequently, he would make 
 some brilliant connection, in addition to 
 rapid militarypromotion obtained through 
 Lady Donnington's interest. Then Alicia 
 would co77ie out under such circumstances 
 as no other commoner's daughter could 
 expect, and with her astonishing beauty 
 must marry highly. , ji . .^l* 
 
 These unwise conclusions Colonel 
 Bariy thought, and Mrs. Barry uttered : 
 — when, yielding to his own vanity, there- 
 fore, he professed himself convinced by 
 his wife's '* good sense," and consented 
 to let Marcus try for an exchange into 
 the Foot Guards. He was further mas- 
 tered by his lady's judiciousness, when she 
 urged the necessity of not giving up 
 the capital during the years of Alicia's 
 imprisonment. "For supposing Lady Don- 
 nington did not offer to bring Alicia out, 
 unless they kept up their acquaintance in 
 Dublin they would not have a soul to 
 present her to when she was of an age
 
 COMING OUT. 15 
 
 to appear: in that case, they might just 
 as well dig a grave and put her into it at 
 once. There was no such thing, that the 
 Colonel must know, as laying people 
 down and taking them up again. After 
 three seasons' absence from a certain set, 
 a ghost would be just as welcome as 
 yourself. In short, people took it exceed- 
 ingly ill, when one of their set did such 
 an odd thing as retiring quite into the 
 country, and not giving dinners or 
 parties till just the time when they had a 
 daughter to bring out. Certainly such a 
 way of going on was mean and selfish ; 
 and she was sure the Colonel was as 
 much against being called mean and 
 selfish as she was. Nobody could blame 
 people for calling them so." 1 oiil 
 
 _ Colonel Barry was entirely of his wife's 
 opinion ; so the town-house was ordered 
 to be re-painted, and a negotiation for 
 removing Marcus from a regiment com- 
 manded by a friendly godfather was 
 immediately commenced. 
 
 Although the young man was taken 
 into this consultation, at least into as
 
 16 COMING OUT. 
 
 much of it as concerned himself, his pri- 
 vate ruminations took a view of Lady 
 Donnington's sentiments towards his fa- 
 mily which might, perhaps, have asto- 
 nished even his mother, had she been 
 privy to them. With the most egregious 
 vanity he thought himself tolei'ably cer- 
 tain that Lady Donnington was rather in 
 love with him, and quite sure that he 
 was excessively in love with her. 
 
 Now the lady in question was positively | 
 forty, but she looked thirty, and she mag- ^^ 
 nanimously owned to five and thirty!: 
 Mr. Barry was one and twenty ! Lady, J 
 Donnington had been a widow ten years, 
 during which time she had been gradu- 
 ally ascending higher and higher in the . 
 scale of elegant opinion; successively^ 
 mastering every other candidate for the . 
 throne of fashion, whatever was their 
 ground of pretension, until she now stood 
 •without a rival, wielding an absolute 
 sceptre, and dictating laws to old and 
 young. 
 
 " Beauty," she used to say, " is neces- 
 sary to marry a young lady; but extensive
 
 COMING OUT. 17 
 
 power has far other sources.'' True to 
 tMiS' theory, the titled widow aimed at 
 subjugating both sexes; fascinating some, 
 and compelHng the greater number to 
 acknowledge her sovereignty. 
 -'ft':may be supposed that so young a 
 widow had had her lovers and her pro- 
 posals. Not a few were positively be- 
 witched by her fashion into fancying 
 themselves animated by a real passion for 
 her ; and several were delighted to find a 
 jointure of 5000/. a year, with tw^o fine 
 houses, united in the person of a clever 
 woman of the supremest bon-ton ; but, 
 like our maiden queen. Lady Donning- 
 ton knew the value of personal freedom 
 top well to part with it; and having none 
 of':'that queen's weaker sensibilities to 
 make refusal sacrifice, she could, with 
 better address, and happier indifference, 
 retain, as parts of her splendid cortege^ 
 those whom she declined to accept in the 
 quality of lovers. In truth, as her Lady- 
 ship never inspired affection, or even a 
 real passion, each rejected admirer re- 
 ceived his conge with proper submission :
 
 '18 COMING OUT. 
 
 it soon became the ton not to be in love 
 with Lady Donnington, but to follow her 
 Avith open profession of will-worship and 
 voluntary slavery. KUioanB' 
 
 Yet there was nothing winning in Lady 
 Donnington ; nothing flattering ; nothing 
 insinuating : she seemed to take the world 
 at the point of the bayonet ; meeting 
 every attempt at the recovery of free ac- 
 tion by her slaves with a hardy resolute- 
 ness, which invariably reconquered them. 
 Some persons she held in awe by her 
 bitter jests, some by her power of ex- 
 cluding them from other houses of gay 
 resort; some she allured by her fertile 
 invention of new modes of amusing or 
 distinguishing, and some by the mere 
 eclat of her name : that name, uncoupled 
 with a single epithet expressive either of 
 regard or admiration, was heard echoing 
 round the w^hole circle of fashion, as if 
 any addition whatever, would have taken 
 from its air of authority. 
 
 Lady Donnington's last season in Lon- 
 don had been one of complete success ; 
 the fashion of Donnington House had
 
 COMING OUT. 19 
 
 swallowed up that of every other, except 
 such as shone with reflected light : even 
 the opera was deserted when she chose to 
 announce French readings every Tues- 
 .day. Such overgrown power, however, 
 
 ^Xv'as only to be maintained by coquetry 
 upon the grandest scale; an affectation 
 of caprice or indifference to hundreds of 
 men, women, and boys. Lady Donning- 
 ton, after ordering her house in town to 
 be newly fitted up during Easter, and 
 circulating innumerable rumours about 
 the time and the manner of her re-open- 
 
 \mg it to the world of fashion, suddenly 
 crossed over to Ireland, on what she 
 called a visit to her cousin the vice-queen, 
 and set all Dublin in a blaze. At that 
 brilliant moment Marcus Barry was pre- 
 sented to her ; accident having afforded 
 him an opportunity of distinguishing him- 
 self from the crowd who were eagerly 
 putting themselves forward to attract the 
 English peeress's attention. 
 
 For the first days and wrecks our young 
 man was sane enough to see in Lady 
 Donnington only an agreeable woman
 
 '20 COMING OUT. 
 
 of a certain age, by whose interest he 
 might look for quick promotion in the 
 army, and from whose elevating notice he 
 must derive benefit in many inferior ways 5 
 he felt that it had already raised him 
 above such of his companions as w^ere 
 not allied to nobility, and he flattered 
 himself that it would soon give him that 
 decided stamp of fashion which ever 
 afterwards makes a man current in the 
 highest circles, and privileges him at 
 last in slighting the ladder itself by which 
 he has ascended. 
 
 From this comparatively easy state, 
 Mr. Barry was roused by the absurd 
 remarks of one divison of his acquaint- 
 ance, and by the mischievous sport of 
 another ; he heard it insinuated from 
 both these different sets, that Lady Don- 
 nington certainly ** was caught at last; 
 that he was a lucky fellow to have 5000/. 
 a year, and a fine woman at his command ; 
 that it must be his own fault if he were 
 not her lord and master in six months.'^ — 
 In less than six weeks Mr. BaiTy believed*
 
 COMING OUT. 21 
 
 himself desperately in love with Lady 
 Donnington. 
 
 Some excuses for such credulity might 
 be urged in favour of our novice. It 
 was his misfortune to have parents even 
 sillier than himself: he had never been 
 Ultimately thi'own in the path of such a 
 dazzling meteor as Lady Donnington ; 
 and she was one whom no ruth, no care 
 of consequences to any human being, 
 ever stopped on the road to her own 
 pleasure or purposes. In her rapid tour 
 to the Giant's Causeway and Killarney, 
 made in company with another female 
 party, she had travelled as usual with a 
 guard of equestrians. Mr. Barry got 
 admitted into the honour of this imperial 
 guard, and having elicited the gallant 
 idea of calling it Lady Donnington's 
 Legion of Honour, had the further glory 
 of giving the first idea of an appropriate 
 decoration. irfijsbM 
 
 Lady Donnington's name was Mar- 
 garet, and a marguerite was the badge. 
 "Mr. Barry had the additional favour con- 
 ferred upon him of being permitted to
 
 3^ COMING OUT. 
 
 order, and subsequently to pay for, alii 
 the enamelled daisies demanded for th^i 
 occasion. ^'^'-^ 
 
 In flying about from one object of 
 curiosity to another, just as the whim 
 seized Lady Donnington. without refer*? 
 ence to map or consideration, this plek-' 
 sure-hunting party got over the whole 
 month of July, and nearly as many huri^ 
 dred miles as they had beguiled weeks*? 
 At Killarney they separated; some of 
 them back to the neighbourhood of Dub-' 
 lin, others to their own distant countr}^- 
 houses, and others to the houses of other 
 people. Lady Donnington dismissed her 
 body-guard with relentless command, and 
 would have proceeded without other de- 
 lay than passing a night at the house of 
 an acquaintance in Wexford, had not 
 the passionate solicita:tions of Mr. Barry 
 aroused her into calling at his father's, 
 where she had appeared and disappeared 
 like a flash of lightning. 
 
 It may be imagined that Mr. Barry, in 
 his character of lover, w^as left plunged 
 in utter night: but the love which has its
 
 COMING OUT. ^• 
 
 root and stem in vanity, has this prodi- 
 gious advantage over that more sensitive 
 sort which feeds upon the dehghtful qua- 
 lities of its object ; it can do extremely 
 well in absence, so long as it is ministered 
 to by self-exalting thoughts, friendly 
 hints of its power, and the memory of 
 decided triumphs. Marcus, therefore, 
 after Lady Donnington's departure, was 
 in a state of rapture, rather than despair : 
 for though her visit had been so brief^ 
 yet a visit at all, was next door to a de- 
 claration in his favour, since '* Lady Don- 
 nington must be aware. Lady Donning- 
 ton must think.'' The silly young man 
 never conjectured that Lady Donnington 
 might not think — might not be aware of 
 the possibility of a boy like him imagining 
 her actuated by any thing beyond the 
 habit of acting precisely as she chose 
 towards sundry persons, without refer- 
 ence to their speculations upon her 
 motives. .^iiihuigfi iv> iidiiji iv \-- 
 
 In applying to' argents or gi^neral offi- 
 cers, in writing and answering letters 
 upon the important busine&s of his ex*
 
 24f COMING OUT. 
 
 change, in retailing again and again all 
 the poignant sarcasms of Lady Donning- 
 ton, and enumerating all the exquisite 
 societies to which he had been introduced 
 in her train, Marcus Barry contrived to 
 get through a whole month in the country, 
 with little better society than that of his 
 own family, and of others equally well 
 born, yet less refined than they. His 
 mother was enclianted to observe how 
 very fine he had become in every look, 
 gesture, and expression, since his last 
 Dublin season ; and his father felt that if 
 he were still to have the gratification of 
 hearing his son talk solely of peers and 
 peeresses, he must strain every nerve to 
 afford him an allowance equal to the 
 rank of his company. 
 
 Mr. Barry's eldest sister alone (for his 
 youngest was too young to be sensible to 
 any thing except the absence of petting 
 from him,) saw the change in her brother 
 with regret. He had never been a very 
 fond brother, but he had not been an 
 unkind one ; and a sister's heart is rarely 
 exacting, Alicia, therefore, had always
 
 COMING OUT. ^ 
 
 seen him return to school after his holy- 
 days with childish sorrow, and had wept 
 bitterly when at sixteen he left home 
 entirely for a commission in the army. 
 Since then, every short return of his had 
 first saddened and then deadened her 
 affection ; now, the obvious silliness and 
 selfish vanity of his character threw an 
 additional damp upon such a feeling, 
 leaving her to mourn in secret over his 
 total want of sympathy with her pure 
 and innocent pleasures. The notorious 
 difficulty of getting by any means into 
 one of the regiments of Guards employed 
 nearly six months ere it was sur- 
 mounted. The transfer cost Colonel 
 Barry so large a sum of ready money, 
 that he was obliged to borrow it of his 
 own agent at a high interest ; he was, 
 moreover, imprudent enough to ^x his 
 son's allowance at a rate beyond what he 
 ought to have afforded a single young 
 man, even in the most flourishing times 
 of his property : at present, such liber- 
 ality was madness. Cliarged with num- 
 berless flatt-ering messages from his mo- 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 COMING OUT. 
 
 ther to Lady Donnington, and well lec- 
 tured by the general to whom he had 
 been aide-de-camp, Mr. Barry then hast- 
 ened, in the month of February, from 
 Ireland to England like a bird into a 
 snare. sr/q 
 
 Leaving him to the adventures of a 
 packet-boat and a mail-coach, it may be 
 well to give some account of his family 
 previous to their knowledge of his titled 
 patroness. 
 
 Colonel Barry started in life as a sol- 
 dier of fortune ; but having good blood 
 in his veins, and a handsome person, he 
 married when on service in the West 
 Indies, the only daughter of a great man 
 there, and in due time became master, in 
 right of his wife, of two valuable estates. 
 Upon this accession of wealth, he quitted 
 the army, returned to his own country, 
 and bought an estate in the county of 
 Waterford, because it bore the name of 
 his family, and was indeed a part of his 
 ancestors' early possessions. Col. Barry 
 brought home with him certain garri- 
 son habits of familiar and free living,
 
 COMING OUT. Tl 
 
 Which suited perfectly well with such 
 of the Irish as had not then allowed 
 themselves to distinguish between waste 
 and hospitality ; his first years of resi- 
 dence, therefore, at Castle Barry, were 
 purely jovial : but one or two win- 
 ters spent in Dublin, and, a few finer ac- 
 quaintance made, altered the tone of the 
 Colonel's pleasures ; and, as he never had 
 been either a drunkard or a profligate, it 
 cost him nothing, personally, to leave off 
 parties where Mind had not the smallest 
 share. Not that Colonel Barry rose 
 higher in the scale of reform than that of 
 ^^xchanging coarse revelry for frivolous 
 ^'%stes : in them he found his proper ele- 
 ment, and in them he rested. 
 
 Mrs. Barry, too, who was very pretty, 
 and very silly, and very idle, had no way 
 of getting through time but that of being 
 amused ; so that their house was always 
 full of company, or they were themselves 
 at other people's houses, or they were in 
 Dublin. Mrs. Barry's children were 
 therefore seldom with their parents. Mar- 
 cus was sent to school ; and the girls 
 c 2
 
 28 ' COMING OUT. 
 
 duly submitted to nursery governess and 
 finishing governess. 
 
 Out of eight children thus lightly 
 cared for, only three had survived in- 
 fancy, — Marcus, Alicia, and Flora. 
 
 Although heir to four thousand a year 
 (such being the original return of Mrs. 
 Barry's estates), Marcus was so passion- 
 ately in love with a becoming uniform, 
 that a kind hearted godfather, mistaking 
 this passion for true military ardour, ac- 
 tually presented him with a cornetcy in his 
 own regiment, then in Scotland, and when 
 it came to Ireland appointed him one of 
 his aides-de-camp. Lucky occurrences 
 had afforded the young man an oppor- 
 tunity of purchase which his father rea- 
 dily seized for him ; so that when he 
 began his career in Dublin, he was a 
 lieutenant and a staff-officer at one-and- 
 twenty. Dublin is said to be the very 
 best situation for learning parade-duty in 
 perfection ; if so, Mr. Barry was inex- 
 cusable for disappointing his veteran pa- 
 tron, and remaining an indifferent officer. 
 
 Meanwhile the little Alicia and the
 
 COMING GUT. 29 
 
 baby Flora, between whose ages there 
 was fiv^e years' difference, were alternately 
 spoilt and ill used by different subordi- 
 nate attendants and teachers during as 
 many twelvemonths as they were years 
 old. Whenever their papa or mamma 
 had them out of the nursery or the school 
 room, it was to a feast or to a fete : they 
 were then prodigiously dressed, coaxed, 
 and kissed for the moment, and soon 
 sent away loaded with good things or 
 pretty things ; so that, although the little 
 girls rarely enjoyed this blissful admis- 
 sion to their parents' presence, they could 
 not but associate such ideas of indulgence 
 and kindness with their images as were 
 by no means unfavourable to the growth 
 of natural affection. 
 
 Neither from father nor mother, how- 
 ever, were they likely to pick up, even 
 by blessed chance, a single seed of right 
 principle. Colonel and Mrs. Barry had 
 no principles whatever j neither good 
 ones nor bad ones : they were equally 
 good natured, equally inert minded ; they 
 thought of life only as a thing to be en- 
 c 3
 
 30 COMING OUT. 
 
 joyed (at least by the rich) ; and shice 
 their enjoyment of that intrusted talent 
 did not consist in robbing, maiming, or 
 slaying, nor in wilfully injuring others ; 
 and as they went once to church almost 
 every Sunday when they were not tra- 
 velhng; and never thought of questioning, 
 nor even of making what they heard 
 there enter into their hearts, they were 
 comfortably satisfied, that when they died 
 they must go to heaven like all other in- 
 offensive persons who had no particular 
 desire of being over good. 
 
 Governesses chosen by such parents 
 were not likely to be much better quali- 
 fied than themselves for awakening young 
 and ardent heaits to a sense of tlieir 
 danger from their own natural frailty, in 
 addition to the trials and temptations of 
 the world. Those appointed to unfold 
 the characters of the Miss Barry's were 
 wholly incompetent in the highest sense; 
 but perfectly able to furnish them liber- 
 ally with accompHshments. Providence, 
 however, graciously supplied their de- 
 ficiency.
 
 COMING OUT. 31 
 
 The nearest neighbour to Colonel 
 Barry was a retired man of letters, to 
 whom a cheerful maiden sister, and an 
 only daughter, supplied the place of a 
 dear and buried wife. Besides this 
 daughter, Mr. M^'Manus had the charge 
 of an orphan boy, placed under his care 
 for tuition until the return of an uncle 
 from India, to whom the child was heir. 
 Rose M^'Manus, then a girl of sixteen, 
 loved children ; so that, finding herself in 
 the vicinity of a sweet little girl, whose 
 parents were occupied with other objects, 
 she soon contrived to have her often com- 
 mitted to her care. 
 
 Alicia was only three years old when 
 she was first caressed by Miss M^'Manus, 
 and invited by little Jocelyn Hastings to 
 come and pick flowers out of his garden. 
 From that period, until she attained the 
 age of fourteen, (when the marriage of 
 Rose carried her from Ireland,) the happy 
 child used to fly on all occasions to Mount 
 Pleasant, as to a dearer home, though a 
 far less splendid one, than Castle Barry, 
 c 4
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 For the first five years, certainly, Alicia's 
 principal attraction was Jocelyn, who, 
 though so many years her senior, de- 
 lighted in playing with, and protecting 
 her : but first the death of a baby-brother, 
 to whom she had tenderly wedded her 
 little heart ; and then an awakened interest 
 in older people's pursuits, aroused her 
 from play, and brought her more fre- 
 quently to the knee of Mr. M^'Manus, 
 and the side of his daughter. 
 
 Colonel and Mrs. Barry were such 
 good-natured gad-abouts, that they were 
 really pleased to give their governess a 
 share of pleasure : Miss M^'Manus's fancy 
 for children made this kindness easy to 
 them ; so that when they went to pass 
 Christmas from home, Mrs. Brudenell 
 was allowed to accept the invitations of 
 her friends, and Alicia was at once trans- 
 lated to her paradise, the low wains- 
 cotted parlour, and turf-fire of Mount 
 Pleasant. Even-after the little Flora was 
 necessarily added to the party, the warm- 
 hearted M^'Manus's contrived to claim 
 this yearly indulgence; making the season
 
 COMING OUT. 33 
 
 of frost and snow, the season of joy to 
 two loving and neglected children. 
 
 During summer, Colonel and Mrs. 
 Barry were more at home ; but even then 
 they had too much company, ever coming 
 and going, to let them care a great deal 
 for their little giiis'society ; so that Mount 
 Pleasant still found means of getting back, 
 for her few leisure half hours, the elder 
 of the two. 
 
 Whenever Miss M'^Manus knew that 
 their fine neighbours were most con- 
 fined hy visitors, she used to despatch 
 begging billets to the mamma or gover- 
 ness, which generally brought the young 
 Alicia very carefully over-dressed, through 
 the boundary screen of firs which divided 
 the grounds of Castle Barry from the 
 little shrubbery of Mount Pleasant, either 
 to be rowed upon the small loch, by 
 which both residences stood, or to drink 
 tea in a rude summer-house, on an island 
 no bigger than a grass-plot. 
 
 At good Miss Judy M^'Manus's early 
 tea-table, where, perhaps, were gathered 
 one friend or more of the same character 
 c 5
 
 S4f COMING OUT. 
 
 as those they visited, even their lightest 
 conversation was never unimproving. Tra- 
 velled men of science, earnest divines, 
 artists, and poets, occasionally tarried 
 there, like heavenly visitants to the Pa- 
 triarchs, leaving behind them bright 
 traces of intellectual glory. Not only 
 young Jocelyn, but the younger and 
 softer Alicia, insensibly imbibed opinions 
 and received impressions which the after 
 world, with all its washing of waves, could 
 not wholly obliterate. 
 
 In her walks with Rose M^'Manus she 
 learned to feel the presence of a bene- 
 ficent and adorable God at all times; 
 and to love the inquiry of how best to 
 please him. Rose had an engaging way 
 of imparting her own amiable views of a 
 superintending Providence ; and though 
 her mind was not of great stretch, her 
 relish for every beautiful work of creation 
 was lively, and her gratitude for the 
 smallest blessing, adequate to her clear 
 idea of each earthly benefit being far 
 above human desert. 
 
 This feeling was contagious, and this
 
 COMING OUT. 35 
 
 taste was to be acquired, or brought 
 out, by listening to her remarks; so that 
 Alicia Barry gradually became as much 
 an enthusiast in nature as Rose herself, 
 and bid fair to " worship nature's God" 
 with thoughts as humble and enlightened 
 as hers. 
 
 During her earliest years, Mr. M^Ma- 
 nus, who was placidly fond of her, used 
 to take her upon his knee to teach her 
 the names of certain stars, and the pro- 
 perties of flowers. Mrs. Judy allowed 
 her to run after her, from parlour to 
 store-room, from poultry-yard to dairy ; 
 when the good lady, who was her own 
 housekeeper, found various little offices 
 adapted to her childish age, yet suffi- 
 ciently important to teach lessons of use- 
 fulness. 
 
 Jocelyn Hastings often volunteered the 
 duty of hearing her French tasks, smooth- 
 ing difficulties to her, and rewarding her 
 afterwards by impromptu tales, told pur- 
 posely to check or foster some obvious 
 feeling of the moment. 
 
 Even at the age of boyhood, Jocelyn 
 c 6
 
 36 COMING OUT. 
 
 gave token of noble manhood in riper 
 years. His habits and disposition ah'eady 
 denoted that his life would be a ministry 
 of kindness on earth, having a yet higher 
 aim than that of mere mortal approba- 
 tion. No two beings could be more un- 
 like each other than he was to himself 
 in his hours of study and of pleasure. 
 When released from duty he was the very 
 spirit of joyous mirth and eager exercise ; 
 and, except that he never wilfully hurt 
 a living thing, or destroyed an inanimate 
 one, was to all appearance the wildest 
 and most unthinking of happy boys : but 
 once recalled to thought, and settled 
 down to reading or listening, his whole 
 soul seemed gathered to that one point, 
 so that those who saw him only at those 
 moments knew but half his character. 
 
 Jocelyn's earliest propensity had been 
 that of benevolence, displaying itself at 
 first in infantine attempts to restore the 
 lives of drowned puppies and kittens ; 
 then in going rounds of charity to a su- 
 perannuated pointer in Mr. M'Manus's 
 stable j to a blind horse and a lame don-
 
 COMING OUT. S7 
 
 key in a field ; and, lastly, to an old turf- 
 cutter and a disabled flax-spinner in one of 
 the cabins. The little Alicia never failed 
 being of these parties, whenever she could 
 do so. Something was always to be car- 
 ried to each pensioner every day ; and at 
 Dennis's cabin the children's riotous spi- 
 rits were so freely indulged, and so truly 
 shared by the hearty old man, that it was 
 well worth Alicia's crying fit afterwards, 
 when, on getting home, her blue sash was 
 found to bedabbled in the mire of the bog, 
 or her second-best frock torn by scram- 
 bling after Jocelyn through a hedge. 
 
 Jocelyn called her his little wife; and 
 Alicia had already such a proper notion of 
 a wife's duty, that she never hesitated fol- 
 lowing him through bog or brier. 
 
 In this way both the little girl's health 
 and spirits were indemnified for the 
 drudgery of studying mere accomplish- 
 ments under an insipid governess, who 
 could not infuse one quickening principle 
 into their attainment ; and who deemed 
 any movement quicker than a regulated 
 walk, a sin against young ladyism.
 
 58 COMING OUT. 
 
 So continually participating in each 
 other's pleasures and employments, as did 
 the two favourites of Rose M^'Manus, it 
 is not surprising that one, at least, (the 
 youngest and softest) should learn to be- 
 lieve, with childish trust in the future, 
 that they never should be separated : but 
 as the tune of Jocelyn's recall to England 
 drew near, it began to be talked of, and 
 Alicia's little heart at length became sen- 
 sible, that such a calamity hung over her. 
 Whenever any allusion was made to this 
 dreaded recall, she would burst into tears 
 of sudden agony, which the agitated 
 boy could only silence by assuring her, 
 that if his uncle gave him leave, he would 
 come back some day and fetch her. 
 
 The fatal period arrived : Jocelyn's un- 
 cle returned from India, and he was sum- 
 moned to England. Alicia was then 
 only ten years old, but Jocelyn was fif- 
 teen. There was a serious romance in his 
 character, which, awakening premature 
 sensibility to affection, and perhaps to 
 personal beauty, made him delight to 
 think how often he had told Ahcia he
 
 COMING OUT. 39 
 
 would come back for her, if permitted: 
 and, coupling a sort of obligation with in- 
 clination, therefore, even at fifteen, in- 
 dulged in such visions as are known only, 
 at so early an age, to minds of strong 
 imagination. 
 
 To superficial observation Jocelyn 
 seemed to be less afiected, because less 
 afflicted than his former little playmate, 
 when they parted. She showed the whole 
 of her artless heart laid waste for the 
 time by the sorrow of innocent childish 
 love ; such love as a sister bears to a fa- 
 vourite brother. She thought they never 
 would meet again, because they were 
 parting, and because she felt no power 
 in herself to end their separation. Jocelyn, 
 on the contrary, was conscious to some- 
 thing of power, from having the wish and 
 the will within him; he was, besides, eager 
 for academic honours ; and anticipated 
 with natural ambition the hour when his 
 friends at Mount Pleasant should hear 
 of his having gained the first prize at 
 Cambridge. 
 
 Jocelyn' s aspirations were not disap-
 
 40 COMING OUT. 
 
 pointed : he distinguished himself at 
 college, and Alicia heard of it ; and 
 Alicia always sent him a kind message in 
 return for his frequent presents of affec- 
 tionate remembrance through Mr. IVrMa- 
 nus. By degrees her tears dried up on his 
 account, as her heart grew into closer 
 intimacy with that of Rose. Alicia was 
 reaching the age of fervid attachments, 
 an age at which almost every woman 
 must remember how devoted she had 
 been to some older person of her own 
 sex, by whose graces or virtues she was 
 then captivated. 
 
 Loving Rose M*^Manus as the kindest 
 of human beings, and looking up to her 
 as the most gifted, conscious of owing all 
 her best knowledge to her, Alicia's 
 greatest ambition became to please Miss 
 M^'Manus ; her greatest happiness, the 
 enjoyment of her society. What, then, 
 was her utter desolation when this too 
 natural idolatry was checked, by the re- 
 moval of its gentle object ? Miss M'^iVIa- 
 nus married. She had been engaged from 
 the age of twenty to an amiable young
 
 COMING OUT. 41 
 
 man, whose circumstances did not allow 
 of their union till some years afterwards. 
 Though deeply attached to him, and of- 
 ten yearning to mingle his nam.e with her 
 pensive or animated remarks upon pass- 
 ing scenes, when conversing with Alicia, 
 this right-judging young woman forbore, 
 by doing so, to awaken premature sym- 
 pathies in a breast evidently formed to 
 feel soon and intensely. She never spoke 
 of Felix Beresford before her, except in 
 the full home circle. When Mr. Beres- 
 ford came to claim his affianced bride, 
 he was, therefore, beheld by Alicia as a 
 stranger. 
 
 Miss M^'Manus's marriage happened 
 shortly after the visit of Lady Donning- 
 ton to Castle Barry. It was so hurried, 
 and so unexpected by her young friend, 
 that she was yet in the first stupor of 
 amazed sorrow, w^hen the newly-married 
 pair sailed from Cork to the place of Mr. 
 Beresford's temporary residence across 
 the Atlantic. In their parting interview 
 Mrs. Beresford could not refrain from 
 giving a sketch of her own little history,
 
 4S COMING OUT. 
 
 and of the principles which had guided 
 her and her admirable husband ; not to 
 exalt either herself or him, but to leave 
 Alicia something beneficial to remember, 
 if ever she should be placed in circum- 
 stances at all similar. It was a lesson of 
 cheerful self-sacrifice to filial affections, 
 and of humble trust in Providence either 
 for future union, or for certain submis- 
 sion to ultimate disappointment ; and, 
 told with tears of agitated thankfulness, 
 was never forgotten. 
 
 As in the most affecting parting scene 
 ever described, in " weeping David ex- 
 ceeded," so she that went, wept even 
 more than she that staid behind ; for she 
 had another grief in addition to that of 
 leaving her friend, — the grief that the 
 parents of this innocent girl were ali\'e 
 to no higher views for her than those of 
 the frivolous world ; and she dreaded the 
 effect of that world, when Alicia would 
 be led into it by persons whom she was 
 bound to honour and obey. There were 
 but a few certain precepts which could 
 be given as safeguards, but one rule for
 
 COMING OUT. 43 
 
 conformity or non-conformity : these Mrs. 
 Beresford repeated; and commending her 
 dear young friend to refer every subor- 
 dinate duty to them, with her full heart's 
 fullest blessing, left her to the care of 
 Heaven. 
 
 Abandoned to feelings just short of 
 despair, after her friend's departure, Alicia 
 was the passive creature her mother 
 wished her to become, when Lady Don- 
 nington enjoined the use of poke bonnets, 
 and utter exclusion from human society. 
 She never missed the lace-frocks, brace- 
 lets, necklaces, and children's balls, with 
 which she used to be treated. She scarcely 
 remembered that she had once liked the 
 finery with which mothers of bad taste are 
 so fond of destroying the bloom of young 
 cheeks and young hearts at the same 
 time. For several weeks she was actually 
 heart-broken ; but letters came from Mrs. 
 Beresford, as she touched at Madeira, 
 and joy gleamed out again. 
 
 After one letter Ahcia had something 
 tangible always to look to in such arrivals : 
 in her little sister she had a dear depend-
 
 44 COMING OUT. 
 
 ent thing to caress ; and in Mr. M^'Manus 
 an object of gratifying attention. Her 
 heart shook oiT its load ; the capacity for 
 happiness returned ; active employments 
 were resumed ; but her original exuber- 
 ance of spirits was never regained. She 
 had begun to suffer, she had therefore be- 
 gun to think : and it is when we begin to 
 think, unprompted by riper minds, that our 
 characters undergo vital changes. Alicia's 
 became shaded by a little pensiveness. 
 
 As Mrs. Judy M'Manus regularly 
 bustled away her whole morning in the 
 business of her small 7ne?iage, and as Mr. 
 M^^Manus devoted his to study, it was only 
 during evenings that the absence of Rose 
 was felt. To obtain permission for sup- 
 plying her place at such times, Alicia 
 submitted herself entirely to her governess 
 throughout the day; and, grateful for the 
 granted boon, applied diligently to every 
 branch of her education. Thus sincerely 
 striving to become mistress of those ac- 
 complishments, which give grace to more 
 substantial acquirements, she enchanted 
 her parents, who were living on the anti-
 
 COMING OUT. 45. 
 
 cipation of her brilliant entree in life in 
 consequence. 
 
 Music would have been her vocation 
 by choice; but she was a timid singer, and 
 her sweet voice, therefore, rarely answered 
 expectation, when called upon for exer- 
 cise beyond the domestic circle. Mrs, 
 Barry, who never felt music for herself, 
 was so often disappointed by her daugh- 
 ter's performance, that she concluded 
 her voice was not a good one, and turned 
 her sole attention to the surer excellence 
 of dancing. 
 
 Dancing being one of those accom.- 
 plishments which may or may not be 
 considered an exhibition, according to 
 the artless or calculating character of the 
 dancer, was so completely practised as a 
 delightful, joy-inspiring exercise by Alicia, 
 that it soon grew into her chief perfec- 
 tion. The floating motion of the slow 
 sort, and the bound or winged flight of 
 gayer ones, were equally pleasurable to a 
 young creature, whose form and humour 
 were alike pliable. She waltzed with her 
 brotherwhen he was with them, and joined
 
 46 COMING OUT. 
 
 in quadrilles formed entirely of young 
 ladies, perhaps younger than herself, till 
 her slight girlish form gradually assumed 
 the lovely roundness of perfected sym- 
 metry, and grace played about her move- 
 ments like sunbeams among waving 
 boughs. Thus she grew into unconscious 
 beauty: countenance developing with 
 mind; and sensibility deepening or adding 
 a complexion truly blent — 
 
 " By nature's sweet and cunning hand laid on." . 
 
 Her mother's frequent exclamation 
 of "How pretty!" from its monotony 
 was little noticed : it pointed out no 
 particular beauty ; it awakenened no cu- 
 riosity of taste ; so that Alicia w^as not a 
 whit the more inclined to study her own 
 face in the glass after its almost mechan- 
 ical iteration. Had she done so, it would 
 not have pleased her greatly, since it dif- 
 fered essentially from that of Rose M^'Ma- 
 nus, who, from being loved, was deemed 
 most lovely. 
 
 Assuredly infinite pains were taken to 
 keep the secret of Alicia's beauty from
 
 COMING OUT. 47 
 
 .discovery. She was never seen by the 
 fcompany at Castle Barry; never permitted 
 to go any where to tea, except to Mount 
 Pleasant when there were no visitors 
 there ; never danced, except with young 
 girls ; and never appeared at church un- 
 disguised by a large projecting bonnet, 
 about the shape of a telescope, and a 
 shaw4 too stiff for taking any other form 
 than that of a triangle. 
 
 To changes and restrictions like these 
 Alicia w-as thoroughly reconciled : she 
 found that she had less to care about, 
 when she planted her flowers, or stole 
 into a mud-floored cabin to spin awhile for 
 some old favourite. She could now dis- 
 miss the thought that mud would soil, and 
 thin drapery rend; and instead of being 
 dressed andbroughtfor exhibition into the 
 drawing-room, she had fi*ee leave to sit in 
 her own quiet chamber, reading, thinking, 
 or writing to her beloved Mrs. Beresford. 
 
 Thus employed, we shall leave her and 
 return to her brother. 
 
 The London winter having begun un- 
 usually early that year, by the time Mr.
 
 48 COMING OUT. 
 
 Barry reached his destination, Lady Don- 
 iiington was in her fullest career of splen- 
 did dissipation ; and had as completely 
 forgotten her Irish acquaintance, as if she 
 were a disembodied spirit entered upon a 
 higher existence than that of earth. 
 However, as this oblivion was not malice 
 p7^epense, when, after a fortnight's fruit- 
 less attempts to be admitted at her house, 
 Mr. Barry met her in the waiting-room 
 of the Opera, she lifted him at once from 
 the depths of despair, by the exclamation 
 of " Mr. Barry ! — how long have you 
 been in town ? — Why didn't you come 
 tome?" ,' 
 
 Mr. Barry hurried out something about 
 having done himself the honour of calling 
 two or three times ; something, too, of 
 having written a note to Her Ladyship j 
 but his agitation was obvious, and jealous 
 self-love made him instantly feel the ridi- 
 cule to which his deplorable nervousness 
 at that moment laid him open. 
 
 By good luck Lady Donnington was 
 not in a malicious mood ; at least not 
 tow^ards him* : so she loitered and talked
 
 COMING OUT. 49 
 
 to him ; allowed him to help on her 
 shawl when it was dropping off; com- 
 missioned him to call her carriage ; and, 
 though handed into it by another, bade 
 him, under pain of her displeasure for 
 life, come and see her very often. 
 
 Lady Donnington was precisely of that 
 consequence in her own set, which gives 
 the power of noticing whom we please, 
 and provoking whom we please ; and, 
 being an adept in the art of keeping up 
 her fashion by exciting petty rivalries, it 
 suited her just at that moment to flash a 
 new slave in the eyes of a tardy one. 
 She was, therefore, carelessly earnest, if 
 such a plirase may be allowed, in desiring 
 the handsome, elegant-looking Guards- 
 man " to call on her the very next day, 
 and tell her quantities about Ireland." 
 
 Mr. Barry was profuse in professions 
 of " being only too delighted to obey ;" 
 and, as her Ladyship's carriage drove off, 
 walked away in an opposite direction. 
 
 This rencontre with a woman whom 
 he had begun to think meant " com- 
 pletely to cut him," and whose charac- 
 
 VOL. I, D
 
 50 COMING OUT. 
 
 ter for fashion was magnified by nearfef 
 approach, was too much for so weak a 
 head. Intoxicated in proportion as he had 
 before been mortified, he reached his own 
 lodgings in Regent Street before his 
 thoughts were out of their chaos. Had 
 he met such a reception from Lady Don- 
 nington directly after his arrival in Lon- 
 don, and at her own house, it is to be 
 feared that the mad notion with which he 
 came from Ireland, of her strong prefer-* 
 ence, would have increased to extravaJ 
 gance ; but two weeks of disappointment 
 and neglect and irritation, added to the 
 conversation of his brother officers, had 
 brought him to his senses upon that one 
 point. He had learned that it was not at 
 all necessary to act the enamoured to 
 Lady Donnington, nay, that she ridiculed 
 sentimental admiration ; and although 
 this account did not wholly destroy lurk- 
 ing vanity, it succeeded in smothering 
 any outward show of so absurd a feeling. 
 With a spirit greatly checked, and 'a 
 livelier sense of Lady Donnington's s«^ 
 preme dominion than he had felt in
 
 COMING OUT. 51 
 
 Dublin, he now thought over the circum- 
 stances of their recent meeting. In spite 
 of its agreeable suddenness, there was 
 something unpleasant in the remem- 
 brance. Lady Donnington had not re- 
 marked upon his assurance that he had 
 thrice left his card, and once a note at her 
 door; she had omitted asking after his 
 mother and sister, and had spoken of his 
 father as Admiral Barry. From miy 
 other' person these tokens would have 
 been decisive in his mind, either of their 
 intention to be uncivil, or their actual 
 indifference, past as well as present; but 
 a different version might be made of 
 them by a man determinately deaf to his 
 mind's conscience. Lady Donnington 
 might, in fact, be surprised at meeting 
 him, which would account for her omis- 
 sions. By miscalling the father and for- 
 getting the mother, she certainly showed 
 that the son had power to bewilder her a 
 little : yet any direct display of emotion 
 Mr. Barry knev/ was a thing not to be 
 looked for in a woman of the world. 
 Lady Donnington could not enter into a 
 D 2
 
 5^ COMING OUT, 
 
 minute defence of herself and accusation 
 of her servants before so many witnesses, 
 therefore had passed by the subject of 
 his note and cards. 
 
 After cogitations Hke these, it may be 
 supposed that Mr. Barry was among the 
 earhest of Lady Donnington's visitors 
 the ensuing day. She had graciously 
 named the half hour before she went to 
 the Park as the most likely time for him 
 to find her at home j and, possessed of 
 that important secret, he went and found 
 a perfect assembly. Fine men and fin^ 
 ladies were lounging among the mon- 
 strous wildernesses of a modern fine 
 room ; where flowering shrubs, piles of 
 china, huddled masses of ottomans and 
 tables, the latter covered Vvith all sorts of 
 hijoiu\ suggested the idea of a bazaar 
 rather than of a room to live and move in. 
 
 No assembly is half so awful as a morn- 
 ing one ; its very seeming of ease and 
 licence aggravates the alarm it creates in 
 the uninitiated. The no introduction — 
 the few cordial or careless words be- 
 stowed by the mistj;ess pf the house — 
 
 e cr
 
 COMING OUT. 53 
 
 ilcie momentary pause of the general buzz 
 
 — and then the return of each small di- 
 vision to their own especial conversation, 
 
 — above all, the re-absorption of the so- 
 litary visitor's only acquaintance,- — these 
 are circumstances which may well try the 
 stoutest nerves, and quail the proudest 
 spirit. Marcus Barry was doomed to 
 their fullest horrors. As if fortune mis- 
 chievously sought to show him his own 
 lamentable disparity of pretensions, he 
 Was' announced in the same breath 
 with a Lord Lew^is Rivers. Lady Don- 
 nington, ready attired either for driving 
 or walking, was sitting at a little table, 
 trying to arrange the different pieces of a 
 puzzle into mathematical form, under the 
 direction of a member of the upper 
 house. The only notice she took of her 
 tw^o visitors, as they w^ere announced, 
 was a prettily pettish command, " Not to 
 utter ! — hot to stir ! " — a command 
 which Lord Lewis disobeyed with per- 
 fect sang-froid, by going forward to an- 
 other table strewed over with fruit, 
 bride's cake, and silver favours, with the 
 
 D 3
 
 54 COMING OUT. 
 
 easy exclamation of, " O, if there *s eat- 
 ing to be had here, I 'rn in kick," di- 
 rectly commencing an attack upon wliat 
 he found. Poor Barry, meanwhile, re- 
 mained awkwardly uncertain of his course 
 on this unknown sea, where he saw not 
 one friendly port to make for. 
 
 Of all men, Marcus Barry was the 
 least qualified to get well through such 
 a dilemma ; for he was vain and irritable, 
 subject to fits of presumption and to fits 
 of humiliation. He had sufficient tact to 
 feel that he ought to know every person 
 present, had he been in the right set after 
 his transfer to England ; — that he ought 
 to have been at the marriage of a titled 
 pair the day before, whose cake and 
 favours were now tossing about Ladv 
 Donnington's sitting-room. He knew 
 this, and felt mortified that Lady Don- 
 nington should thus see he w^as nobody 
 in himself ; — but, forcing an air of plea- 
 santry, he bowed, and announced him- 
 self fixed until the enchantress w^ould 
 revoke her spell. 
 
 Lady Donnington did not please to
 
 COMING OUT. 55 
 
 rqvok^ her spell until she had conquered 
 tl^e bits of mother-of-pearl which she 
 was pushing about with more vivacity 
 than cleverness. She then started up, 
 scolded Lord Lewis for devouring the 
 Marchioness of Croyland's cake, and 
 purloining a favour, by way of making 
 the world think their old quarrel had 
 been made up j thanked Mr. Barry for 
 having proved to her that there was s>\xch. 
 a thing as a cast-iron man ; answering 
 his astonished look by the exclamation 
 of, *' You ca7i be nothing less, Mr. Barry, 
 or you never could have stood upright, 
 such ages, in the middle of the room.'* 
 Mr. Barry was very near forfeiting his 
 cast-iron reputation at this cruel plea- 
 santry; but as the privileged speaker 
 had no purpose of annihilating, she went 
 on with an expansion of good humour, — 
 *« Those silver bows remind me of that 
 amusing folly — my Legion. What lias be- 
 come of all my Knights ?-Tr-I quite forget 
 who they were. — Were not you one of 
 my imperial guard. Lord Lewis ?'' 
 
 <* I love you to distraction, Lady Don- 
 D 4
 
 56 COMING OUT. 
 
 rmigttm,'^ 'W^ the careless' 'rg|Kfy ; ^ '^^ l?&t 
 it is much beyond my poor ability to 
 enter a regiment for you. — Any thing 
 short of that, and dancing quadrilles with 
 your friend Miss Everleigh.'' 
 
 " My friend !" repeated Lady Don- 
 nington with a gesture of abhorrence ; 
 " how provoking you are sometimes ! 
 and what are you doing in England, Mr. 
 Barry ? For business — or to dance quad- 
 rilles instead of Lord Lewis Rivers ? — 
 how public spirited of you 1" 
 
 Mr. Barry did not see that he was 
 half ridiculed : he answered rather flip- 
 pantly, that his business consisted in tak- 
 ing a few guards, and walking up and 
 down St. James's Street ; adding, that if 
 Lady Donnington would become a pur- 
 chaser, he would show his public spirited- 
 ness by opening a shop for the sale of Irish 
 poplins, having brought over quantities. 
 
 " O ! open a shop ! pray open a shop, 
 Mr. Barry," exclaimed his divinity; " we 
 will all buy of you." 
 
 " Of course, and never pay !" observed 
 Lord Lewis Rivers, deliberately twisting
 
 COMING OUT. 57 
 
 off the only rose that was blown upon the 
 most forward plant. Lady Donnington 
 denounced hhn as a base plunderer in 
 a friendly country ; then turning again 
 to the young Irishman (who never be- 
 fore stood in such need of a dip in the 
 Shannon), assured him Lord Lewis was 
 quite right, for she was so horridly poor 
 this year she did not mean to pay for any 
 thing. 
 
 The grave-looking senator who had 
 been her instructor over the puzzle, ob- 
 served, that he saw no chance of the 
 patriotic warehouse turning out a good 
 speculation ; therefore, the liberal pro- 
 prietor had better throw the whole stock 
 upon her Ladyship's hands, simply to 
 bring poplins into fashion. This was 
 said in good-natured pity for the young 
 Guardsman's obvious embarrassment how 
 to make a present ; and met with the 
 success it deserved. — Lady Donnington 
 avowed herself ready to accept and give 
 away as many Irish stuffs as Mr. Barry 
 would bestow upon her, voting for their 
 D 5
 
 58 COMING OUT. 
 
 immediate appearance. " Where did Mr. 
 Barry live ?" — " In Regent Street." — 
 ** Had he any creature living that could 
 give her maid the poplins ?" Luckily 
 Mr. Barry had a servant who never was 
 out of the way ; and as Mr. Barry must 
 not go himself, Lady Donnington's maid 
 was sent off in the barouche waiting for 
 her lady, and returned with so many 
 pieces of the richest poplins and tabinets, 
 that it was almost laughable. 
 
 Lady Donnington's eyes did laugh un- 
 gratefully, though she exclaimed rap- 
 turously at seeing one piece of a colour 
 she professed to have been routing out 
 all the shops in town for, in vain. Marcus 
 Barry felt once more suspicious of being 
 an object of entertainment rather than 
 companionship ; and his colour rose while 
 males and females gathered round the 
 scene of display. 
 
 One or two elderly young ladies were 
 extremely civil to him, after he was pre- 
 sented to them ; for Mr. Barry was de- 
 cidedly good-looking ; he was in the 
 Guards ; and they concluded, both from
 
 COMING OUT. 59 
 
 hi$fgcmcherie and his presents, that he 
 must be immensely rich. ,|j rnHH 
 
 Most of the men, particularly the ill- 
 looking ones, eyed him superciliously, 
 and were not to be entrapped out of their 
 evident resolution 7iol to know him. But 
 two of those of the better natured, hear- 
 ing Lady Donnington inquire if he were 
 not going into the Park, asked to be pre- 
 sented to her friend, that they might 
 ride together in her train. Mr. Barry 
 was going into the Park, and his groom 
 was now leading his horse round the 
 square, in company with the grooms of 
 his new acquaintance. A general move- 
 ment now took place : some of the gen- 
 tlemen walked off, some rode oiF; Lord 
 Lewis Rivers fixed himself in a balcony, 
 over which he leaned, attempting to say 
 good things to the different persons as 
 they mounted or sauntered out. Lady 
 Donnington in vain desired him to ring 
 for Lady Mandeville's carriage, — to see 
 if the Miss Danvers' horses were in the 
 street. Lord Lewis knew his licence, 
 and he moved not until every other 
 D 6
 
 60 COMING OUT. 
 
 vehicle had drawn off, and Lady Don- 
 nington's Hght barouche waited for her 
 and her nieces. Her Ladyship then 
 pushed even her favourite poplin back 
 upon the table strewed with cake and 
 fruit ; Mr. Barry's devotional look was 
 non-effective ; her hand was given to the 
 insolent yet w^atchful Lord Levv^is ; and 
 the two young ladies w^ere left to the 
 temporary care of our Guardsman. 
 
 All mortifications were effaced, every 
 wound staunched, when Mr. Barry found 
 himself walking by the side of Lady Don- 
 nington in Kensington Gardens, and saw 
 every eye, as he' thought, gazing after 
 and envying him. The greater propor- 
 tion of persons there were of a decidedly 
 lower sphere, yet even they were of that 
 well-conditioned class, who are ilie great 
 people of a third set, and who know every 
 person of fashion's face, carriage, and 
 liveries ; nay, who do occasionally jostle 
 with their proper persons at a fancy 
 charity ball, &c. 
 
 By these people Mr. Barry was evi- 
 dently remarked as a 71 ew fine young
 
 COMING OUT. 61 
 
 man ; and while inquiring whispers and 
 flattering conjectures about his name and 
 rank met his ear from passing groupes, 
 he began to feel as if their suppositions 
 were patents of nobility, and that he was, 
 indeed, the young Duke of Lochinvar, 
 or the Earl of Ullswater. 
 
 There is something perniciously in- 
 toxicating in public notice : under 
 its heady influence Mr. Barry lost all 
 remembrance of what had gone so far 
 towards opening his eyes, and showing 
 him his true, at least safest, place in 
 society : for as Lady Donnington went 
 on with the step of a queen, and the 
 undauntedness of a stage-queen, talking 
 to all of her party behind, or in advance, 
 regardless of the thronging strangers at- 
 tracted by her odd expressions, he was 
 vain enough to conclude that his pre- 
 sence had something to do with her 
 excessive spirits, and his own rose ac- 
 cordingly. In short, after three hours 
 wasted in the Mall, and on the wall of 
 Kensington Gardens ; after listening to 
 hear the band of the regiment then on
 
 62 COMING OUT. 
 
 duty, and laughing repeatedly at Lady 
 Donnington's flippant sallies, he mounted 
 his horse and made one in the swarm of 
 fashionable equestrians who chose to be 
 seen all the length of the drive, talking in 
 at the windows of Lady Donnington's 
 carriage. (noocfi sifi 
 
 From that auspicious day Mr. Barry 
 had a very fair share of I>ady Donning- 
 ton's distinguishing notice ; that is, he 
 was always sent to when any thing was 
 wanted which it would have hazarded 
 Lady Donnington's' empire to have ex- 
 acted of less humble votaries: he was ever- 
 lastingly permitted to pay for every body 
 at every exhibition or summer theatre; 
 he was employed to smuggle over Lime- 
 rick gloves from Ireland and artificial 
 flowers from France ; to get China crapes 
 out of Indiamen (China crape being then 
 contraband) ; to bring her all the new 
 publications, without hope of seeing them 
 again ; to be disengaged whenever Lady 
 Donnington invited or wanted him ; and, 
 whatever be the state of his purse, be 
 prepared to take as many tickets for he-f
 
 COMING OUT. 63 
 
 nefit concerts and balls off her hands as 
 remained upon them after very slight 
 exertions. 
 
 This mode of getting a footing in the 
 best society was ruinous to a young 
 man's desire of suiting his expenditure to 
 his income. '*But what could ayoungman 
 do?" Mr. Barry continually asked him- 
 self. Lady Donnington evidently never 
 thought of money (she certainly did not, 
 for any other than herself). How could 
 he appear so sordid or parsimonious? 
 It is true he saw men of larger incomes 
 than his make a stand against such en- 
 croachments ; either by a manly profes- 
 sion of poverty, or by quietly begging 
 her Ladyship to pay for their admission 
 to exhibitions or theatres ; but he was 
 neither fashionable enough nor intrepid 
 enough for such bold measures. He felt 
 that it was half his father's fault that he 
 was brought into this unequal companion- 
 ship, and was not inclined to quarrel 
 with the justice of his father's pocket 
 suffering a loss in consequence. Mean- 
 while his private thoughts upon another
 
 64 COMING OUT. 
 
 subject began daily to decline in pleasure- 
 ableness. He first fancied himself ridi- 
 culously jealous of Lady Donnington ; 
 then, that she was trying how much he 
 would bear from her ; lastly, that it was 
 much too like a boy to be in love with a 
 woman older than himself. Perhaps he 
 came sooner to this decision because 
 otherwise there seemed a probability of 
 his finding out that her Ladyship had 
 never thought of him as any thing beyond 
 a better sort of under person, slaving for 
 fashion, and largely rewarded for his ser- 
 vices by admission to her assemblies and 
 her box at the opera. 
 
 Thus ended Marcus Barry's first sea- 
 son in London. When town was empty, 
 he got the usual proportion of leave, and 
 flew with redoubled eagerness after his 
 Circe; pursuing her wherever she went, 
 to watering-place or villa ; and when he 
 had not invitations to the same houses, 
 always finding the excuse of races, or a 
 county ball, or some other such public 
 cause of idler-gathering, by way of pra-
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 65 
 
 text for establishing himself and suite at 
 tlie nearest hotel. 
 
 ■{ filn this way Mr. Barry certainly became 
 tolerably well acquainted with several 
 persons of the highest distinction; but he 
 also contrived to get through such alarm- 
 ing sums of money, that he was now no 
 longer able to face the sure after-vexa- 
 tion of drawing upon his father for hun- 
 dreds beyond his allowance : he, there- 
 fore, fell naturally into the common un- 
 principled course of leaving debts unpaid, 
 and employing ready money for the pay- 
 ment of ready-money pleasures. Matters 
 then seemed to go their usual course ; 
 and by that opiate was the young man 
 lulled again into fatal security. 
 
 In his letters home, he described his 
 life as one round of delight and distinc- 
 tion. Lady Donnington, the divine Lady 
 Donnington, was still the goddess of his 
 avowed idolatry ; but he was not so com- 
 plete an idiot as to proclaim what the na- 
 ture and hopes of such worship had been 
 and had ceased to be. 
 
 Having parents to deal with quite as
 
 66 COMING OUT, 
 
 vain and jealous as himself, he did not 
 find it a very difficult task to undeceive 
 them as to their hope of his obtaining 
 military promotion through Lady Don- 
 nington's means. He detailed to them 
 the other impossibility of retaining equa- 
 lity of place or consideration with those 
 he now Uved familiarly with, were he to 
 ask or seem to expect interest should be 
 made for him by her. He assured them 
 also that he had taken infinite pains to 
 discover whether it were at all admissible 
 to ask such favours of Lady Donnington ; 
 and the result was, that her Ladyship 
 made it a point not to put herself in the 
 way of being vexed at not succeeding for 
 hundreds, by never applying to her pow- 
 erful kinsman for a single individual. 
 
 This affectation of, at best, a selfish sen- 
 sibility; this miserable covering of a dead 
 heart, was lauded by Mr. Barry's pen ; 
 we must do him the justice to say, not 
 internally by his conscience : but he 
 hastened to efface the impression from 
 his own mind, by recapitulating the 
 number of invitations to select parties,
 
 COMING OUT. 67 
 
 and of successive sets at Almack's, for 
 which he was indebted to Ladj Donning- 
 ton's friendship ; and by describing in 
 glowing colours the favour he enjoyed from 
 every I^ady Jane and Lady Gertrude, 
 whose names he knew were synonymous 
 at Castle Barry with the supreme of rank, 
 beauty, and fashion. After every letter 
 Mrs. Barry became more and more con- 
 vinced that her son had only to fix upon 
 whatever fair prize he chose to draw from 
 the lottery of marriage, and that his own 
 attractions, aided by his popularity, would 
 at once insure it to him. She more than 
 once hinted her wish that he would make 
 this selection soon, as the Colonel began 
 to be seriously annoyed about money : 
 for, if Marcus married a great fortune, 
 he might go on for a year or two without 
 requiring an income from tlie estates ; so 
 that when Alicia was to be brouglit out, 
 they would have sufficient to render her 
 entree a proper one, and yet leave the 
 West India property time to recover 
 itself. 
 
 To these hints, Mrs. Barry generally
 
 68 COMING OUT* 
 
 added most particular inqtiineS "ab6\ft 
 Lady Donnington's probable kind inten- 
 tions towards his sister ; giving elaborate 
 details of her increasing charms and accom- 
 plishments, in order that he might repeat 
 them to her expected patroness. This, 
 however, Marcus never did. Amongst 
 the many disappointing occurrences which 
 happen to young persons in the first stage 
 of youth, is often the painful surprise of 
 finding, that, however interesting to thehli.^ 
 selves, they must not begin speaking ofi 
 any friend or connection, unknown to, or 
 un cared for by their idol at the time. 
 Such checks would show them that they' 
 themselves excite no real sentiment of 
 regard ; were not the self-love of the 
 vain, or the excessive faith of the roman- 
 tic, ever at hand to blind the eyes of 
 common sense. 
 
 True to this axiom, Mr. Barry had 
 early discovered, without being shocked 
 by it, that it would be " mauvais ton^^ m' 
 him to prose about father, mother, or 
 sister, amongst persons to whom they 
 were unknown 5 that unless he could
 
 COMING OUT. 69 
 
 say, the Duke or the Duchess, or Lord 
 or Lady so and so, when speaking of his 
 parents, it was better to follow the fa- 
 shion of other young men in his circum- 
 s^tances, and leave it doubtful whether he 
 h^i or ever had had parents. 
 j^As his own high Irish acquaintance 
 did not know Colonel and Mrs. Barry, 
 theiiT- names never occurred amongst 
 tjb^ir^^.and as Lady Donnington seemed 
 not only to have forgotten the expectant 
 pair, but their beautiful daughter also, he 
 was driven to the miserable subterfuge of 
 implying messages in his letters which 
 his adorable divinity never sent. In this 
 way he quoted several morsels of pithy 
 counsel concerning the education of 
 Alicia Barry's person, which he gathered 
 from Lady Donnington's random remarks 
 upon the defects of other " new young 
 ladies," giving them as direct advice to 
 his mother. Thus did he show how 
 easily mere nursery morality gives way 
 before the lesser and larger passions 
 which are awakened in us by the world ; 
 to grapple with which, there is but one
 
 70 COMING OUT. 
 
 principle of sufficient grasp for all — 
 sound religious principle. 
 
 Lady Donnington's second season in 
 London (after Mr. Barry's settlement 
 there) began much later than her last. 
 She had paid numberless visits towards 
 the close of the year, entertained a large 
 party at her house in the country, talked 
 of travelling on the continent, — nay, did 
 cross over to Paris for a celebrated actor's 
 last performance, and kept all London in 
 a fright, lest there would be no Don- 
 nington House that year. At length she 
 re-appeared, just as Easter ended. The 
 whole town was in danger of an order for 
 illumination. Maugre his military supe- 
 riors, Mr. Barry had succeeded in getting 
 all his guards taken for him by a good- 
 natured brother officer, and went to Paris. 
 Half a dozen idle young men had fol- 
 lowed Lady Donnington as well as he. 
 They went because they had nothing else 
 to do, and because Lady Donnington 
 made every thing pleasant, and because it 
 was the fashion to go after her ; besides 
 which, Lady Donnington had two nieces
 
 COMING OUT. yi 
 
 witfi'^h^f, with fortunes at their own 
 disposal. 
 
 ff= These two Ladies Mostyn were co- 
 heiresses to a large property inherited 
 from their mother. The eldest was al- 
 ri^ady of age, and rather pretty ; the 
 youngest, ill-looking and sickly. The 
 first, of course, had professed admirers, 
 none of whom she seemed to favour; 
 there were two opinions, therefore, about 
 her character. Some said she was waiting 
 for her sister's death, to get the whole 
 6000/. a year, and to be entitled to ex- 
 pect a decidedly great marriage ; others 
 accused her of being sentimental, and 
 laying herself out to marry for love. 
 Mrs. Barry was instantly of the last opi- 
 nion from the moment she heard that 
 Lady' Sarah Mostyn was of her aunt's 
 party to Paris, and that Marcus was con- 
 tinually with them. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the presumption of 
 ignorance ; and ignorant Mrs. Barry was, 
 not only of fully-employed life, but of 
 that differently-active one which held, in 
 her estimation, the highest rank in the
 
 72 COMING OUT. 
 
 scale of excellence. We have before 
 hinted that Colonel and Mrs. Barry lived 
 habitually in the second set, when in 
 Dublin, mixing with the first only in 
 large evening parties, or at one or two 
 great houses in the country. Mrs. Barry, 
 consequently, knew little of the obstacles 
 which start up between a handsome spe- 
 culator of either sex, unsupported by 
 family, and the object of their scheming. 
 She made herself so sure of her son's 
 success in such a speculation, that her 
 husband actually involved himself to con- 
 tinue supplying his repeated demands for 
 money ; ever afraid that his own conse- 
 quence would suffer if he allowed his 
 heir to be embarrassed. Thus, by their 
 almost preventing his requests, while 
 abroad, these foolish parents entirely ba- 
 nished from his mind that wholesome 
 consideration of the future, which is, 
 perhaps, one secret of poorer men's fre- 
 quent moral superiority over the children 
 of fortune. Mrs. Barry was enchanted 
 when she heard, through some secondary 
 medium, that her son's manners were
 
 COMING OUT, 73 
 
 *< finer than ever " since he had been 
 upon the continent. 
 
 The young Guardsman's first visit to 
 Paris did, however, something more for 
 him than give him an additional grace of 
 manner ; it taught him the fatal secret of 
 patching up ruined affairs by the chances 
 of the gaming-table. Having no natural 
 taste for such amusement, when in Lon- 
 don he had been able to resist every in- 
 vitation of the sort; but in Paris the 
 seductive influence of female persuasion, 
 and the fashion which there followed a 
 young man's admission into one great 
 house, where high play was carried on 
 by persons of rank, were irresistible. 
 He played and won ; and staying too 
 short a time to lose afterwards, returned 
 to England elated with the acquisition 
 of some extra hundreds. 
 
 After this trip to the French capital, 
 Mr. Barry recommenced in London with 
 more money and more consideration ; he 
 had the entree of more distinguished 
 houses; he could hazard asking certain 
 young ladies to dance with him at Almack's, 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 COMING OUT. 
 
 whom, the season before, he might not even 
 have presumed to approach until they had 
 honoured him with some notice : he was 
 oftener called Barry by young men of 
 decided fashion, and he could perceive 
 that he was beginning to be supposed a 
 partie, by mothers who had unmarried 
 daughters to dispose oi\ nay, by young 
 ladies themselves, who had been out a 
 season or two. Lady Sarah Mostyn, he 
 was quite sure, was growing more than 
 partial to him. hu* j jt|8 b 
 
 Elated with present vanity, 'afad" pa§t 
 success at cards, he now launched forth 
 into new expenses ; and, it may be feared, 
 yielded to vices hitherto unknown : but 
 gaming had not yet become habitual 
 with him, simply from the bondage to 
 which he had bound himself to Lady 
 Donnington, from whose society he must 
 in a degree have exiled himself, had he 
 frequented clubs and single men's dinners. 
 
 But as his style of living increased in 
 extravagance, his father's letters began 
 to assume a more serious aspect of remon- 
 strance and representation j stating his own
 
 COMING OUT. 75 
 
 pecuniary difficulties, and assuring him, 
 that he must either look about in good 
 earnest for a rich wife, or draw in to a 
 mortifying degree. 
 
 ^ The Colonel represented his own neces- 
 sity of living like a gentleman, which, in 
 fact, was keeping open house tx) the 
 most inconsiderate squanderers of other 
 people's properties ; he enumerated his 
 debts to tradesmen, bonds and bills, for 
 which he should have no provision, unless 
 a speculation, into which his agent had 
 entered for him, should turn out fortunate; 
 and he concluded by saying, that as he 
 could not abate one atom of his ordinary 
 style at Castle Barry, his son must retrench 
 in London, or find an equivalent in some 
 agreeable heiress. Mr. Barry had been 
 too long suffered to go at large in his 
 expenses and inclinations for any parental 
 advice to speak with the voice of au- 
 thority 'y he threw aside his father's letters 
 w^henever they came, satisfied that they 
 were " exactly like what every fellow of 
 fifty writes on the subject of money :" 
 no farther moved too by his mother's 
 E 2
 
 76 COMING OUT. 
 
 suggestions about Lady Sarah Mostyn, 
 than as they ministered to his already over- 
 weening vanity. One letter unattended 
 to, another and another followed ; the 
 young man still going on in the same 
 career of foolish prodigality, merely to 
 keep up the character he had somehow 
 attained, of being extremely rich. As if to 
 drain his weak parents of credit as well as 
 money, the London second season (as the 
 end of summer is called) was prolonged to 
 the very end of August. Long ere it ended^ 
 Marcus Barry was no longer cool enough 
 to see, that, if his father's details were 
 true, ruin was inevitable. He had made 
 the mortifying discovery, that Lady Don- 
 nington uniformly excluded him from the 
 only parties he would now care an atom 
 for belonging to ; he found out, that she 
 gave regular suppers every Saturday, after 
 the Opera, to about half a dozen chosen 
 persons, amongst whom he had never 
 been invited, from the Haymarket ; nay, 
 had the double mortification of showing 
 himself surprised when told such sup- 
 pers had been, and were. His malicious
 
 COMING OUT. 77 
 
 hiformant took care to point the meaning 
 of the exclusion, which amounted, m fact, 
 to a public protest, that Lady Donnington 
 did not consider the devoted Mr. Barry 
 as one of her friends. 
 
 Our Guardsman could scarcely sup- 
 port the humiliation of this discovery ; 
 and had it happened when he was only 
 a foolish vain boy, fancying himself in 
 love, it must have crushed him : but now 
 that he had steeped his lips in the cup of 
 vicious indulgences, and felt secure of 
 some fashion, he retained sufficient pre- 
 sence of mind to treat the matter as a 
 thing perfectly indifferent to him on the 
 score of pleasure ; nay, rather as «* a bore 
 avoided;" insinuating, too, that Lady Don- 
 nington could never be too much praised 
 for taking such good care of her pretty 
 niece. 
 
 After this dexterous hint of an under- 
 standing between himself and Lady Sarah 
 Mostyn, Mr. Barry considered himself 
 Avhat he called " committed to make love 
 to her;'* thus, what neither parental 
 expostulations, nor grateful feelings, nor 
 E 3
 
 78 COMING OUT. 
 
 mercenary considerations could effect 
 was done at one stroke by wounded 
 vanity. 
 
 Neither admiring Lady Sarah's person 
 nor manners particularly, nor as yet eager 
 for her fortune j without one thought in 
 trying to obtain her hand, beyond show- 
 ing that it was his importance, not his 
 unimportance, which caused his exclii-. 
 sion from Lady Donnington's suppers, 
 Marcus Barry immediately commenced 
 a steady, though covert, attack upon the 
 young lady*s affections. He had beguii 
 it, however, too late for complete success 
 that season : the two Ladies Mostyn left 
 London with their father for a northern 
 tour, and did not revisit town till the 
 Earl came thither to attend his duty in 
 the House of Peers the ensuing Fe- 
 bruary. 
 
 Then, however, Mr. Barry had many 
 opportunities of carrying on the siege. 
 Lord Hafle(ih having a second wife and 
 a second family, his daughters of a first 
 marriage were oflen thrown upon their 
 aunt's good nature to carry them
 
 COMING OUT. 79 
 
 about Marcus Barry, as one of her 
 unfailing bond-slaves, was thus privi- 
 leged to offer his arm to the Ladies Mos- 
 tyn in a crowd, or to ask the honour of 
 their hand in a quadrille at Almack's. 
 He was never idle upon these occasions 
 in his determined duty of complimenting 
 the eldest ; but Lady Sarah had such a 
 provoking manner between simpleness 
 and slyness, such a strange smothered 
 laugh when looking most down, that he 
 would not have known what to make of 
 it, had it not been for her invariable 
 practice of regularly taking his arm, and 
 showing herself the most attentive to his 
 attentions, whenever her father was in 
 company. Now Lady Sarah was not de- 
 pendent upon her father for fortune ; 
 and this proceeding seemed to say she 
 knew it, and knew also that she was of 
 a^e. 
 
 Having finally made up his mind to 
 marry Lady Donnington's niece, simply 
 because Lady Donnington had not chosen 
 to stamp him as one of her tlite, Marcus 
 Barry formally announced his intention 
 E 4
 
 80 COMING OUT- 
 
 and his encouragemeiif/'m tfie^fonil of^ 
 sentimental confession to bis motheii 
 who, like many other nondescript ' pna- 
 racters, highly relished a jargon of* sen- 
 timent, while opposed to all its prin- 
 ciples. To his father he employed grav6r 
 arguments ; stating the substantial ad- 
 vantages of such a connexion, and the 
 propriety of his making an appearance 
 which might justify the young lady to 
 the world, ii\ after going through the 
 form of asking Lord Harlech's consent, 
 she should be forced to marry him with- 
 out It. . 
 
 As the heir of 4000/. a year, he cer- 
 tainly considered himself fully qualifiea 
 to propose for an heiress of 3000/. ; but as 
 he meant, after his marriage, not to look 
 to his father for more than his present 
 allowance, until the family estates were 
 running smoothly again, he said he relied 
 upon his father's justice for assisting him 
 at the present juncture, either with 
 money or credit, to a sufficient amount. 
 In short, Mr. Marcus Barry found it was 
 the fashion just then for young men to
 
 COMING OUT, 81 
 
 h^\^e, houses of their own, and give little 
 parties now and then to friends of both 
 sexes : Lord Lewis River's French Pro- 
 verbs were already patronised by one or 
 t^P. married women of rank and cha- 
 racter ; Mr. Barry, therefore, burnt with 
 a desire of rivalling him in a hous^ and 
 an attraction. His father was called 
 Upq^^to be answerable for the rent; #nd 
 furniture of a small elegant house in 
 Park-lane, something, in size and ve- 
 randas, like a cage for canaries. To this 
 he consented j and in less than a month 
 from that time his son was established in 
 it with the proper complement of servants, 
 French wines, richly-bound Souvenirs, 
 Quarterly Reviews, and popular novels. 
 
 Upon this stock Mr. Barry set up for 
 an exceedingly fine gentleman, and began 
 his new career in the highest state of 
 self-complacency. He believed (and he 
 was not wrong) that Lady Sarah Mostyn's 
 near relations had a constantly watchful 
 and anxious eye upon her, especially 
 when he was conversing with her. Lady 
 Donnington alone showed no disposition 
 E 5
 
 8^ COMING OUT. 
 
 to notice, therefore none to disturb, their 
 growing intimacy. She received him with 
 her usual negligent favour ; consequently, 
 her exclusion of him from her late sup- 
 pers could only have been done from un- 
 avoidable compliance with the wish of 
 her brother: her individual opinion was 
 obviously on his side. Nothing more was 
 necessary to enlist Mr. Barry, with greater 
 devotion than ever, in the ranks of her 
 Ladyship. At her mention of the French 
 play, and avowal that she was much too 
 poor that year to rent the private box 
 
 opposite Lord 's, our wrong-headed 
 
 hero instantly flew to possess himself of 
 it, and to place the disposal of the tickets 
 invariably at her command. Her Lady- 
 ship was so charmed with the gallantry 
 of the act (and he flattered himself with 
 the grace of mannei' accompanying it), 
 that he hazarded another throw for dis- 
 tinction, and was winner. 
 
 The most insolent and enrapturing of 
 Italian singers having quarrelled with 
 every musical director in London, was 
 going back to Italy, determined never to
 
 COMING OUT. 88 
 
 sing to an English audience again: he 
 had, however, consented to sing one night 
 for Mr. Barry and his particular friends, 
 (at what price we will not inquire) ; and 
 Lady Donnington, delighted to seize 
 every contested pleasure, readily promised 
 to go for an hour, in her way to another 
 party, naming her immediate companions, 
 and unceremoniously fixing w^ho she w^as 
 
 to meet. ;;,U noitovgb 
 
 The preparations for this select enter- 
 tainment were expensive in proportion to 
 the brevity of the time allotted for making 
 them ; but to expense Mr. Barry was 
 growing indifferent. He chose to believe 
 that the West India property was only 
 failing for a year or two, and must re- 
 cover itself; and as to what his father 
 wrote, of having the bonds to redeem of 
 large sums borrowed for his own use pre- 
 vious to his son's demands, he refused to 
 credit their existence ; judging, sanely 
 enough, when self was not immediately 
 concerned, that no man of common sense 
 would have gone on living as Colonel 
 Barry did, if aware that his income was 
 E 6
 
 84 COMING OUT. 
 
 actually diminishing every yeaa.', and that 
 he had enormous bills to answer at a 
 given period. in rjd ox iiwui^ 
 
 As, however, no opinion of the"sdTl*5 
 could alter the circumstances of the father, 
 Mr. Barry's remittances were often so 
 tardy in their appearance, that he was 
 driven to turn a favourite amusement to 
 profit. He had recourse to the lottery of 
 billiards. Whenever he was upon guard, 
 and often when not so, he consumed 
 nearly all the day at a billiard-house in 
 St. James's Street. There, wanning or 
 losing, he was equally bartering character 
 and self-respect for temporary gratifica- 
 tion, either of hope or success. Living 
 on the fruits of gambling can never be 
 better in the eyes of a man of honour 
 tlian living upon the results of highway 
 robbery : what, then, must it be to the 
 thoughts of such as have a holier and 
 higher principle to guide them ? It must 
 be confessed that Mi'. Barry had already 
 ceased to ask himself what any action 
 issued in, so that it only ministered to his 
 present humour or present necessities;
 
 ^COMING OUT. 85 
 
 and he did not take alarm at this grow- 
 ing habit, until he found that he had 
 grown to bet upon other men's games, 
 and, venturing so, to lose considerably. 
 
 He was lamentably deficient of every 
 thing except credit, when he ordered the 
 various elegancies of decoration and re- 
 freshment for his chosen party. 
 
 The important evening came ; War^ 
 hellino was in his best voice and most 
 gracious mood : Mr. Barry's little velvet- 
 carpeted saloon, with all its pretty knick- 
 knackeries, was pronounced an absolute 
 hijou ; and if the master of the revels had 
 only appeared utterly careless about every 
 thing, in short, comported himself simply 
 as one of the company, the party would 
 have gone off to admiration. But al- 
 though Mr. Barry affected the most 
 praiseworthy indifference to what had 
 cost him days of incessant thought and 
 pains, and after-pains ; although he went 
 on muttering smothered flatteries to Lady 
 Donnington over a fan he was pretending 
 to find fault with, that he might bring 
 forward another of his own exquisite
 
 86 COMING OUT. 
 
 fancy; though he did this, when some 
 catastrophe happened to a whole pile of 
 emblem confitures, which had been ma- 
 nufactured at Paris expressly for him, his 
 unmastered complexion betrayed emo- 
 tion; and Lady Donnington brought down 
 thunders of applause the very next even- 
 ing, by imitating to Lord Lewis Rivers 
 ^* poor Mr. Barry's fuss of face \*' 
 
 As Mr. Barry expected. Lady Don- 
 nington did not bring the Ladies Most}Ti 
 with her. He was far from suspecting that 
 she did not consider a single man's par- 
 ties quite correct for her nieces, although 
 she brought two or three other young 
 ladies whose mothers were less nice than 
 she. Amongst them was the last brought 
 out daughter of a widowed marchioness 
 of more blood than fortune ; the young 
 lady was young enough to bear the title 
 of pretty, and ready enough to receive 
 attentions from a handsome Guardsman, 
 evidently rich to boot. Seated by this 
 new acquaintance, Mr. Barry swelled with 
 the proud belief of making Lady Don- 
 nington sensible that he might have more
 
 COMING OUT. 87 
 
 hearts at command than that of Lady 
 Sarah Mostyn, if he chose to exert his 
 powers of pleasing. 
 
 When it is said, that Lady Georgiana 
 Carey's manner was most particularly flat- 
 tering to the persons she chose to please, 
 and most peculiarly repulsive to those she 
 chose to distance ; — when it is added, that 
 until this evening she had looked at Mr. 
 Barry with haughty disregard, nay, had 
 once declined dancing in a quadrille be- 
 cause *' she did not know all the people," 
 and he was the only one she did not 
 know ; — when this is stated, no one will 
 wonder that the vainest of irascible young 
 men should at once have his head turned, 
 and feel for the time unsettled in his pur- 
 pose of making serious love to the eldest 
 Lady Mostyn. 
 
 of It w^as so gratifying to see Lady 
 Georgiana Carey notice nobody but him ! 
 she, that must hitherto have been dra- 
 gooned into treating him arrogantly ; or 
 perhaps she had been piqued by his not 
 taking pains to get presented to her ! 
 While revolving such ideas, the face he
 
 88 COMING OUT. 
 
 had once thought cross and coarse, grew 
 pretty and pleasant in his eyes ; and had 
 it not been a notorious fact that '' none 
 of the Lady Careys had twopence," he 
 would have made no hesitation in aban- 
 doning the Earl's daughter for that of thq^ 
 Marquis. ^.^^^^^^ 
 
 The next night he danced with Lady 
 Georgiana at Almack's, and sat out two, 
 quadrilles with her: happier still! iv^, 
 presented by her to the Marchioness, and 
 by the Marchioness to her youngest son. 
 These personages, being allied to nearly 
 all the nobility of the three kingdoms, 
 were such grand additions to Mr. Barry's 
 list of friends, that he now believed him- 
 self for ever enrolled on the calendar of 
 the haiit ton. He had not, however, any 
 farther aim than such advancement of 
 reputation in his attentions to them. 
 When Lady Sarah Mostyn appeared, he 
 succeeded, as he hoped, in making her 
 understand that when he was sought by 
 others, she alone was sought by him ; and 
 as she looked aside, and seemed con- 
 scious, and did not go away, he was war-
 
 COMING OUT. 89 
 
 I'^iit^ in concluding, tliat a more explicit 
 declaration, at a proper period, would be 
 received with due thankfulness. 
 
 In such exaltation of vanity and con- 
 ceit, with an immediate prospect of be- 
 coming master of a fair hand and a large 
 fortune, he was led to exclaim, ** Is the 
 fellow mad ?" when, on returning home, 
 he opened a letter lying on his table, and 
 read it by snatches to the end. 
 
 This ill-received epistle came from his 
 former colonel, General Granby, to whom 
 he was god-son, and had been aid-de- 
 camp ; it was written ip the spirit of true 
 kindness, briefly stating what the writer 
 heard of the young man's unbounded ex- 
 j^enses, and what he knew of his father's 
 difficulties : and, while it clearly pointed 
 out the ruin and disgrace which must 
 speedily follow, unless prompt measures 
 were taken to prevent such a. consum- 
 mation, it contained a last offer for Mar- 
 cus's consideration. The General was 
 unexpectedly appointed to one of the 
 first military commands in the East In- 
 dies 5 he was then at Falmouth for em-
 
 90 COMING otjr* 
 
 barkation, with his staff; if Mr. BaiTy 
 would give up the Guards, and transfer 
 himself to a regiment coming over by the 
 next ships, General Granby undertook to 
 push him on in his profession, and, ac- 
 cording as his conduct merited itj give 
 him the best military situations in his 
 power to bestow upon one of his standing 
 in the army ; in short, General Granby 
 undertook to make him a soldier ; and 
 that, every one who knew General Granby 
 could not doubt, meant also to make him 
 a fortunate one. 
 
 Gratitude is generally in proportion to 
 knowledge. Mr. Barry could not be 
 grateful for this offered benefit, because 
 he did not see his want of it ; he laughed 
 at the poor old gentleman's stupid no- 
 tions; owned him to be good-natured, 
 however ; and quietly lighted a cigar with 
 his letter. 
 
 The ensuing evening he was invited 
 home from a benefit opera by Lady Don- 
 nington to one of her suppers, where he 
 sat next Lady Sarah Mostyn, and pre- 
 vailed upon her to sing a French song.
 
 COMING OUT. 91 
 
 He was that night at the very high tide 
 of his fortune, and left Donnington House 
 determined to seize the first moment of 
 ten minutes' private conversation with 
 Lady Sarah, to declare himself her lover, 
 and press for an immediate marriage. 
 
 Mr. Barry^s fate now hurried on. The 
 next night he was engaged to a ball, and 
 having nothing better to do after dinner, 
 lounged into one of the winter theatres, 
 where he had the entree of a private box, 
 close to one belonging to royalty. As he 
 threw himself along a sofa there, he 
 could hear that the next box had occu- 
 pants; a mother and daughter, whose 
 insipid remarks upon a farcical comedy 
 for a few minutes failed to rouse him 
 from that lethargic attitude of body, 
 rather than of mind, with which he was 
 stretching himself: a third joined them, 
 and at her name he was all ear. 
 
 " So, you are come, my dear Lady 
 Donnington !" ejaculated one of these 
 ladies, with a voice more like the angry 
 report of a pistol than a salutation of 
 friendship ; " how very good of you ! I
 
 92 COMING OUT; 
 
 thought I must have gone out of town 
 without one quiet meeting — a w^eek, how* 
 ever, is so short ! — and I am dying to ask- 
 you all about that Mr. Barry, that Julia 
 Georgiana Carey danced with the other 
 night. They tell me he is a prodigiousf 
 fortune ; that all the West Indies belongs^ 
 to him ; and that he gave a French playi 
 to her the other night at his own house ;( 
 and that you introduce him. Pray do^ 
 tell me, if you can, that there is not a 
 word of truth in this. I have such ar 
 horrible hatred to the Marchioness and) 
 all her brood — though the girls are myf 
 husband's nieces, — thank Heaven, wei 
 never speak !" ■ ^ 
 
 Lady Donnington prefaced her reply 
 hy a careless request that ** dear Lady 
 Charles would just let her hear that ab- 
 surd Mr. Liston for one moment." 
 
 Lady Charles Everleigh having worked 
 herself up into a complete passion, could f 
 not remain silent ; and she went on ex- 
 haling her rancour in violent expressions. 
 
 " No ; I never have forgiven that hor, 
 rid;wonian for her positive murder of my
 
 COMING OUT. 93 
 
 Harriet. All the world were going mad 
 about my girl's heavenly skin, when that 
 vile creature wheedled me into letting 
 her go with them to Brandon ; and there 
 she fed her upon chocolate and filthy 
 pies, till she made her one lump of black 
 bile. I screamed for an hour after Har- 
 riet came back. You know she never 
 has got the better of it. Yes, filthy pies, 
 Lady Donnington, so don't put on such 
 a qualifying face ; for my maid got the 
 secret out of the housekeeper at Bran- 
 don — every pie at the table (as long as 
 my girl stayed, of course,) was regularly 
 made of lard." 
 
 " Lard ! what's lard ?" asked Lady 
 Donnington, with a tone irresistibly 
 comic. 
 
 /*0! some poisonous mixture to imi- 
 tate butter, made out of hogs," was the 
 reply. " I had some brought to me di- 
 rectly, and the very sight of it gave me a 
 fit of illness. You heard the cruel joke 
 somebody put about, afterwards ?" 
 
 Lady Donnington professed ignorance, 
 though she had made the joke herself.
 
 94 COMING OUT. 
 
 " They said, the Marchioness mistook 
 her for a calf, and meant to get the prize 
 for her at Lord Haygarth's cattle-show. 
 I am sure my girl never thought of Lord 
 Haygarth, though he was paying her such 
 decided attention before this shameful 
 business; and I'm sure her malicious 
 aunt thought of any thing except helping 
 her to settle well." 
 
 *' O how literal !'' exclaimed Lady 
 Donnington, falling into successive fits of 
 laughter, during which her vexed com- 
 panion persisted in pathetic entreaties that 
 she would only tell her who Mr. Barry 
 belonged to, and what his fortune re^ly 
 was? -'l Ji^r- 
 
 Lady Donnington, who was all that 
 time enjoying, by her quick imagination, 
 the picture of a little starved goitmiand 
 living at free quarters for two months in 
 a house where profuse eating was the 
 order of the day, was some moments 
 before she could articulate without being 
 suffocated : at length she managed to 
 say,— 
 
 " In the first place, I can only tell
 
 COMING OUT. 95 
 
 .you, that Mr. Barry is one of those young 
 cj^aen, (fathers and mothers unknown !) 
 ^ho come from you know not where, 
 |»nd disappear, after a season or two, you 
 ift:now not how ; that are taken up you 
 j scarcely know why, and left where you 
 
 found them, whenever it suits you. How- 
 -.cver, I protest he is the civilest, most 
 
 obliging person possible ; and, consider- 
 \ing that he is growing rather popular, is 
 >(yeally not at all huffy or forward." 
 ,[: " But where did you pick him up P" 
 jiV\^as the repeated question. 
 ^TiifJ*' Somewhere in Ireland," returned 
 yLady Donnington, negligently : " after 
 
 that, he left his card in LiOndonJbr 2/ears, 
 
 all the next season^ before I remembered 
 .him; the moment I did, I could not be 
 
 so ill-natured as not ask him to my house. 
 
 And so it seems he has become a great 
 
 man ; and young ladies are falling in love 
 
 either with himself or his money. How 
 
 much too amusing !" 
 
 *' Then he is rich !" interrupted Lady 
 
 Charles Everleigh, in a voice of perfect 
 
 despair.
 
 96 COMING OUT. 
 
 «* My dear Lady Charles, don^t put 
 yourself in a state !" exclaimed Lady 
 Donningtoii : ** Miss Everleigh looks 
 quite aghast. I have not the least doubt 
 that Mr. Barry is as poor as possible, and 
 horribly in debt, if that will make you 
 happy ; for he regularly pays for every 
 body, every where j and his father's place 
 in Ireland is a miserable sort of half-bog 
 half-mud fine house. Unless his father 
 is a miser, the son must be living quite 
 beyond all calculation of folly.'' 
 
 "I am so glad !" ejaculated Lady 
 Charles Everleigh. " This is quite a re- 
 lief ! quite a cordial ! I should be so vexed 
 if another of those girls married a for- 
 tune : and they are all so well taught, 8o 
 like their artful, good-for-nothing mother, 
 that they are sure to catch any one they 
 spread their nets for. I know they think 
 he is immensely rich ; for Julia Georgiana 
 said so herself to her great friend Miss 
 Ailsford ; and Miss Ailsford let it out to 
 my son, in one of their flirtations last 
 night. They have set Lord George to get 
 at the truth, by writing to somebody in
 
 COMING. OUT. 97 
 
 Ireland ; and the best of it is, particularly 
 desired him not to tell you, because they 
 -fancy you intend him for one of the Lady 
 Mostyns ; and that you took Lady Sarah 
 over to Paris, on purpose that she might 
 fall in love with him ; because she, we 
 know — " 
 
 Here Lady Donnington's real or well- 
 acted peals of laughter, at w-hat she 
 called " delightful absurdity !" so com- 
 pletely baffled Lady Charles Everleigh's 
 efforts to finish her remarks upon Lady 
 Sarah Mostyn, that the listener in the 
 next box was hopeless of catching them : 
 meanwhile, he endured the agonies of the 
 rack and screw in one, though he kept 
 perfectly still, that his neighbourhood 
 might continue unsuspected. 
 
 Only three years before, Marcus Barry 
 would have fired at the imagined degra- 
 dation of thus filching gainful inform- 
 ation ; now that he was degraded by a 
 career of fostered selfishness and of wilful 
 expediency, he had lost the standard of 
 right and wrong in his mind. 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 gg COMING OUT. 
 
 During Lady Donnington's laughing 
 fit, Lady Charles Everleigh, who was 
 any thing but a lamb, began to feel im- 
 patience rising fast into anger : she be- 
 sought her Ladyship to say what enter- 
 tained her so much ; repeating, " How 
 very tiresome, my dear Lady Donning- 
 ton ! how very tiresome ! Caroline, don't 
 keep staring so ! " 
 
 " O ! this dessous des cartes is so very 
 amusing !" exclaimed Lady Donnington : 
 " I have the whole scheme of their little 
 politics before me ! I am so much obliged 
 to you for this ! it never entered my poor 
 unplotting head, when Lord George teased 
 me, to ask poor Barry (imitating Lord 
 George's voice) to sup after the opera. 
 I thought it so good-natured of Lord 
 George ; for I never should have dreamt 
 of such an invitation. O ! it is much too 
 entertaining, my simplicity ! How Miss 
 Everleigh enjoys it ! I see she is quite 
 worthy of it ! Isn't that the Marchioness 
 in the stage-box ? She sees us ! she un- 
 furls her hand ; so exactly like an um- 
 brella I don't you hear her kiss it ? How
 
 COMING OUT. ^ 
 
 she yawns, fancying herself smihng ! poor 
 woman ! and we abusing her ! '' 
 
 Lady Donnington was obliged to draw 
 back behind the curtain of their box, to 
 conceal the amusement this honourable 
 conviction excited in her. Marcus Barry, 
 as unwilling as herself to be noticed, kept 
 close where he was, proudly determining 
 to have his revenge for the galling terms 
 in which his former goddess had spoken 
 of him, by joining the Duchess, and 
 staying to hand Lady Georgina to her 
 carriage, after he should have shown, by 
 bowing to Lady Donnington, that he 
 knew she was in the theatre. 
 
 Self-love made him incredulous of Lady 
 Charles Everleigh's accusations against 
 her own relations : he remembered the 
 careless, good-humoured way wdth which 
 Lord George Carey had joined him in 
 the street one day, and walked with him 
 to Tattersall's, previous to the supper- 
 party. If his Lordship had suggested the 
 invitation to Lady Donnington, that only 
 proved his own wish for Mr. Barry's so- 
 ciety; and if he were going to inquire 
 F 2
 
 100 COMING OUT. 
 
 into Mr. Barry's fortune, that, too, was 
 fair enough in a brother ; and besides 
 testifying that Lady Georgina was posi- 
 tively captivated, the whole set of cir- 
 cumstances went to prove, that her family 
 would gladly accept the proposal he 
 never meant to make. As matters stood, 
 our guardsman merely received and used 
 this conviction as a balm to wounded 
 conceit. > 
 
 [:y^0Y some time the party in the next 
 box were so occupied by a scene on the 
 stage, that conversation paused. When 
 the act ended. Lady Donnington, evi- 
 dently enjoying ill-natured gossip, turned 
 upon her fretting companion, with the 
 exclamation of ** But what's become of 
 Sir PhiHp Baverstock? we forget him!** 
 t' j<«OI didn'tyouknow?" interposed Miss 
 Everleigh, exultingly : " he never came 
 forward, after all. — Poor Georgina ! I was 
 so sorry 1" 
 
 " My dear, don't pity her : she is used 
 to it," was Lady Donnington's exqui- 
 sitely feelmg, Q>;)^ervation, accompanied
 
 COMING OUT. lOi 
 
 i^'arfSig^ging smile, as she uttered the 
 last biting sarcasm. 
 
 " Yes, indeed !" resumed Lady Charles 
 Everleigh, "Sir Phihp is gone off to 
 Edinburgh with the Monteiths ; so Julia 
 Georgina is in a double hurry to get a 
 husband, before he marries one of those 
 pattern misses : how one dislikes pattern 
 misses! that never do any thing like any 
 body else, and would not flirt for the world, 
 iior waltz with any man but their bro- 
 ther ! Such affectation ! I hope the Careys 
 Will play their cards better with this Mr. 
 Barry than they did with Mr. Benyon ; 
 for if he slips too, after they get him 
 .'pushed on amongst people, w^ho never 
 beard of his existence till this year, Julia 
 Georgina will be fairly ruined." "^, 
 
 ^'^^:^« I half forget about Mr. Benyon," 
 ^^icl LadyDonnington, carelessly : *' where 
 'did he spring up ? Do tell me something 
 about him." 
 
 " O, you know he began a positive no- 
 body," replied Lady Charles ; " but he has 
 'been getting on in society these last four 
 seasons, from his immense riches and his 
 F 3
 
 102 COMING out. 
 
 buiining. He began affecting to be ex- 
 ceeding fine : he was always with Harry 
 Gssory (only because they happened to 
 meet abroad, and travel together). Harry, 
 of course, expected Mr. Benyon would 
 propose for his sister ; and as the Ossorys 
 are so horribly poor, it was worth their 
 while to get him invited every where 
 they could, that their girl might not be 
 said to marry a person out of the dirt,'* 
 
 " How well you understand these 
 things, my dear Lady Charles ! " was 
 Lady Donnington's ironical exclamation. 
 
 Lady Charles Everleigh went, unheed- 
 ing, on. ** Then he slid away without pfd- 
 posing, and got into the Sainsborough 
 set, who were glad enough to catch him, 
 and took them in in the same way ; and 
 after them, the Humes ; and so he has 
 gone on till he has got every where. He 
 is so sly, that he never commits himself 
 to any of the girls, though every one of 
 them make themselves quite sure at the 
 time. Mrs. St. Leonard showed the trick 
 up to me not a month ago. She said no- 
 body would have admitted him into their
 
 COMING OUT. 103 
 
 house after his behaviour to poor Bess 
 Ossory, if' it had not been for his 8000/. a 
 year. JuUa Georgina was trying for him 
 when she and her mother poisoned my 
 poor Harriet." 
 
 " Then, of course, he was professing to 
 admire Miss Everleigh ! " observed Lady 
 Donnington, with an expression of face 
 which showed her mistress of. some Httle 
 private anecdotes which it did not suit 
 Lady Charles Everleigh to have remem- 
 bered. She reddened as she replied, 
 }* My Harriet never was taken in by 
 him, nor would she have had him, if even 
 he had been serious. As for Julia 
 Georgina, she is absolutely ruined. No- 
 thing destroys a girl's prospects so com- 
 pletely as letting a match go off with a 
 person of that sort : none of her own set 
 will ever propose to her afterwards : it 
 is quite mortifying enough for girls to be 
 obliged to marry rich parvenus : however, 
 then, they have something for their sacri- 
 fice : quantities of money, you know. 
 Lady Donnington — " 
 
 ** O don't address that to me, my dear 
 F 4<
 
 104 COMING OUT*; 
 
 Lady Charles," interrupted Lady Doi>^; 
 uington ; ** it quite and entirely belongs 
 to your daughter there." 
 
 *« I beg, Lady Donnington," interposecj 
 Miss Caroline Everleigh, looking back 
 frpm a front seat, " that you won't bring 
 me in about anything except a flirtation. I 
 can't bear the idea of setthng ! I make no 
 secret of being horridly fond of mere flirt? 
 ing; it is so amusing: the men know 1 
 never expect a proposal : it is so much 
 pleasanter to be good natured, than mum 
 and mousey like Amelia Manningham, 
 or catching at every civil word, as Miss 
 Wardour does." 
 
 Lady Donnington, without further re- 
 garding her than by a look, which seemed 
 to say, " O, that is your style of entrap- 
 ping!" composedly directing her eye- 
 glass across the house, addressed Lady 
 Charles. . 
 
 " Pray, look at the Marchioness's box, 
 one, two, three new men ! Don't let then^ 
 see me : — we don't want them here^. 
 that's Colonel Kelly bowing ! — There's 
 William Darnley's great moonshine teeth 1
 
 coMmo ovT. 105 
 
 ild^ ttt the Marchioness, courteseying 
 idown her poor dwarfs like a huge hen 
 smothering a brood of Avidivats ! Don*t 
 you hear her hsp -—How de do, Colonel!^- 
 How de do, TVilUcmi ! — How de do. Lord 
 John / Now she is savins; her everlastino; 
 good thing about her Refuge for the 
 Destitute : that did well enough to the 
 Duke of Chiswick, but it has no piquance 
 toyoungerbrothers, as poor as rats. There ! 
 I see my creatures putting their heads into 
 her box : they are quite right to get in any 
 where J for I turned them loose onthecom- 
 mon, because you wrote me word you had 
 something so particular to speak about."' 
 While Lady Charles Everleigh was 
 questioning, and Lady Donnington saying 
 who her gallant lords in waiting were, 
 Marcus Barry had time to feel how little 
 he relished satirical pleasantry, when ex- 
 ercised upon himself; or in such a way as to 
 reflect upon himself. On the present occa- 
 sion, he thought LadyDonnington the very 
 essence of mere malice; and fed the fierce 
 hunger of his rising resentment with the 
 resolution of revenging himself upon her 
 F 6
 
 106 COMING OUT. 
 
 after he should have secured her niece, 
 by never again hearing a jest or sally of 
 hers without obvious scorn or apathy. 
 He was, however, quite sickened from his 
 purpose of going over to the Carey 
 family : there, too, he could not help see- 
 ing he was a dupe. In the midst of these 
 thoughts, he heard Lady Donnington say 
 she must go away ; that she must beckon 
 one of her escorts to come and see her to 
 her carriage. Having no mind to en- 
 counter her just then, he remained still. 
 
 " How tiresome of you not to stay the 
 play out!" exclaimed Lady Charles Ever- 
 leigh. " But do tell me, if I hear it said 
 you are going to marry Lady Sarah Mos- 
 tyn to this Mr. Barry, am I to contra- 
 dict it? *' 
 
 " My dear Lady Charles ! " ejaculated 
 the Countess, with provoking indifference, 
 *« did you ever hear of my having any 
 thing to do with a marriage ? I hate fuss 
 more than any creature living : I never 
 trouble myself to knpw what is going on 
 in the way of love-making ; so if either 
 of my brother's daughters choose to marry 
 Mr. Barry, or any other person of tlie
 
 COMING OUT. 107 
 
 sort, I shall only think them excessively 
 foolish. Do tell me what is happening 
 on the stage, is it raining leaves ? or do 
 they mean it for a shower of rain ? " 
 
 . " Now don't look at the odious stage," 
 resumed Lady Charles, pettishly : " do tell 
 me about Lady Sarah, while Caroline 
 looks." 
 
 " O yes, do look for us all. Miss Ever- 
 leigh," exclaimed Lady Donnington, in 
 a tone of sarcastic pleasantry ; then adding, 
 ** Indeed, Lady Charles, I am not Princess 
 Schehezerade ; and I cannot go on telling 
 a thousand and one tales. It is certainly 
 very amusing to hear Mr. Barry quar- 
 relled for by young ladies and their 
 mammas : it is so exactly, to me, as if 
 you were fighting for Rossini, or Sapio, 
 or some such person. There, I hear my 
 cavalier's heavy feet : I will onJy take 
 him as far as my carriage. Miss Ever- 
 leigh : he shall come back to you : you 
 know I know you like flirting. O this 
 horrid ball after Lady Chaloner's ! Is not 
 Caroline going home to dress ? You take 
 her yourselfi of course ?" 
 F ^i
 
 WS COMING OUT. 
 
 u The entrance of Lady DonningtoTi*s> 
 lord in waiting prevented Miss Everi 
 leigh's pettish avowal of not being asked 
 to the ball in question : her mother mut- 
 tered something about meaning to go out 
 of town too early the next day for a late 
 ball at night ; and in the midst of their 
 confusion, the only person belonging to 
 the set whose conversation was of conse- 
 quence to Mr. Barry made good her re- 
 treat : he was, therefore, released from 
 the self-imposed slavery of listening. 
 ? Having waited until he might be sure 
 of not encountering his unmasked scorner 
 by the way, he went noiselessly out of the 
 box ; and equally avoiding an encounter 
 with Lady Georgina Carey, quitted the 
 theatre, and hastened to his own house. 
 
 It is nearly impossible to give an accu- 
 rate idea of the state of Mr. Barry's 
 mind : one moment he was ready to 
 throw every thing up, quit London and 
 all its pleasures and all its people, with- 
 out any explanation ; at another, he felt 
 stung into the resolution of going direct 
 to Lady Donnington, and reproaching
 
 COMING OUT. 109 
 
 her with her duplicity and ingratitude. 
 It is astonishing how quickly we recover 
 a sense of right, the instant wrong is per- 
 petrated against ourselves ! Mr. Barry 
 now clearly saw, for the first time, that 
 Lady Donnington, who had never been 
 entertaining except when ill natured, was 
 selfish, thankless, perfidious, and incapa- 
 ble of any attachment. 
 L, His self-love was cut to the quick, by 
 the composure with which she had given 
 him up to the disgrace of being a jpar- 
 venu : that bitter quotation, of " fathers 
 and mothers unknown," was never to be 
 forgiven — and he had once been in love 
 with Lady Donnington ! For a moment 
 he fancied the signal revenge of publicly 
 affronting her by some unexpected imper- 
 tinence on his part ; an impertinence 
 which must be the more wounding, be- 
 cause it would thus be inexplicable to 
 her. 
 
 From this insanity, however, he was re- 
 covered by the certainty that Lady Don- 
 nington, turned into an enemy, would be 
 dangerous, to positive destruction. Her
 
 110 COMING OUT. 
 
 power or her sarcasms might at once de- 
 prive him of his expected triumph in 
 marrying her niece. Till that conquest 
 were achieved, therefore, he must cover 
 rancour and resentment with the mask of 
 former devotion. 
 
 Our young guardsman was assuredly 
 making rapid advances in the world's 
 school : learning lessons there, which 
 would enable him to inflict the same mor- 
 tifications, in his turn, upon others. Had 
 his ill-governed character allowed him to 
 make a single rational friend to whom he 
 might have gone in his present paroxysm 
 of irritation, it is possible that he might 
 have heard some truths which would 
 have opened his eyes to the unwarant- 
 able folly of expecting the honours of 
 high birth to be gratuitously given to one 
 without either distinguished talents or ac- 
 quired station, and originally belonging 
 to the second class of society. He might, 
 therefore, have had the extreme edge of 
 his resentment abated ; but no such mode- 
 rate friend had Mr. Barry made, much 
 less one capable of asking him what there 
 5
 
 COMING OUT. ' 111 
 
 was in the passing vapour of a fashion- 
 able reputation, which could recompense 
 a being destined for eternity to spot his 
 soul with hideous passions in its pursuit. 
 Fiercely resolving to make love to 
 Lady Sarah Mostyn in good earnest, he 
 rapidly altered his dress, threw himself 
 into his cabriolet, and drove to the fancy 
 ball. A certain degree of vexation ge- 
 nerally improves the complexion, and 
 lights up the eyes. We will not stop to 
 inquire what sinister effect it may have 
 upon the expression of a countenance. 
 Suffice it, that upon the present occasion 
 Mr. Barry's irritated feelings gave so 
 spirited an air to his face and figure, that 
 when he entered the ball-room, several 
 ladies observed " how particularly hand- 
 some Mr. Barry looked as a guerilla chief!" 
 He did not, however, approach any one 
 of them, but lingered at the door- way, to 
 talk, with studied carelessness, to Lord 
 George Carey, of horses and yachts ; of 
 his father's ** stupid great place in Ire- 
 land ; " of their unwieldy West India 
 estates, that were " good for nothing in
 
 11^ COMING OUT. 
 
 his jestimation, because too far for shoofc* 
 ing or hunting upon ; " and to do this in- 
 a tone which completely satisfied Lord 
 George that his companion was heir to an 
 immense property, and very hkely to 
 make his sister an offer of marriagefeuoijij 
 
 Mr. Barry enlarged more about hi^ 
 own expenses, his father's occasional 
 lectures, and the absolute strength of 
 their funds, because he saw the Lady 
 Mostyns and Lord Harlech standing near 
 enough to catch most of his affected com- 
 plaints. What he aimed at, now, being 
 to indemnify himself for the want of 
 fashion, by securing a reputation for 
 great wealth. 
 
 After this successful feat, he danced 
 with all the Lady Careys successively ; 
 and Lady Sarah Mostyn, afterwards sit- 
 ting out two quadrilles with him, every 
 one began to think Lady Sarah was cer- 
 tainly going to marry Mr. Barry. One 
 or tw^o married ladies, who had honoured 
 the young man w-ith very particular 
 notice of late, absolutely reproached him. 
 Lady Donnington was infinitely amused
 
 COMING OUT. 113 
 
 with the scene ; for she saw nothing in it,' 
 except the game of one young lady try- 
 ing to outwit another; and giving Mr. 
 Barry credit for being ahnost a passive 
 instrument in their hands, played on, 
 through his own vanity, she never 
 dreamt that he had the more egregious 
 folly of believing himself yet of sufficient 
 consequence to pique her by an intended 
 difference in his conduct. So slight w^as 
 the difference, and so habituated was 
 Lady Donnington to make every body 
 do just what she liked, that having no sen- 
 timent to render her sensitive, she went 
 on, ordering Mr. Barry about as usual. ^ 
 Mr. Barry was outwardly as much at 
 her command as ever ; yet he found 
 means to insinuate to Lady Sarah Mostyn 
 that he worshipped at Lady Donning- 
 ton^s shrine for the sake of another god* 
 dess. Lady Sarah blushed, and looked- 
 oddly pleased ; or, perhaps, he mistook 
 the appropriate actions upon such occa* 
 sions for the blusli of conscious approval. 
 There are expert actresses off* the stage 
 as well as upon it, whose averted cheek
 
 114 COMING OUT. 
 
 is sure to be coloured by the spectator's 
 imagination. Lady Sarah, however, said 
 nothing ; but she sealed his hopes at 
 once, by bravely looking up, when sud- 
 denly asked to dance by a notoriously- 
 admired young Baronet, exclaiming, 
 ** Mr. Barry, am I not engaged to you ?" 
 
 Mr. Barry could do no less than mut- 
 ter some elegant folly, about this volun- 
 teered engagement, and lead the young 
 lady to the dance. His exultation was 
 complete, when he found her father was 
 standing directly opposite to them at the 
 moment of receiving her fair hand, and 
 that his Lordship's countenance ex- 
 pressed satisfaction rather than alarm. 
 
 Till this instant Mr. Barry had only con- 
 templated future acceptance from Lady 
 Sarah, through her own free agency ; 
 but at the prospect of being as graciously 
 received by her father, his eager thoughts 
 took fire, and he imagined the glorious 
 triumph of marrying Lady Donnington's 
 niece from the house of Lord Harlech, as 
 at once sealing his consequence, and con- 
 stituting his revenge. However dipped.
 
 COMING OUT. 115 
 
 his father's estates were rated at 4000/. a 
 year; therefore he would be warranted 
 in making a formal proposal even to the 
 co-heiress of 7000/. As he meditated 
 making what he called " the agreeable 
 to the old peer " for a while, preparatory 
 to a positive declaration, he now con- 
 tented himself with observing the young 
 lady's quantity of bracelets, "as if it 
 were necessary to cover arms not exactly 
 like Miss Catharine Gresley's!" then 
 gallantly reproaching her for '* regularly 
 wearing a ponceau gown, for no other 
 reason on earth than to show that no 
 colour could make some skins look less 
 than snow white ! " Lady Sarah laughed 
 and looked down, and persisted in saying 
 nothing ; but that was quite according to 
 rule on such occasions of insipid love- 
 making ; so Marcus Barry was satisfied. 
 The ball ended, and he returned home^ 
 intoxicated with vanity and self-con- 
 fidence. 
 
 The next morning the whole town 
 rung with the report that Lady Sarah 
 Mostyn was gone off from the fancy-ball
 
 116 COMING OUT. 
 
 with Sir Lionel Colliton ; that very bd- 
 ronet whom she had evaded dancing with, 
 by announcing herself as engaged to Mr* 
 Barry. Every body saw the trick : M£ 
 Barry had been used as a blind to con- 
 ceal from the watching eyes of friends 
 and relations Lady Sarah's under-game 
 of keeping up a disgraceful attachment 
 which had been formed by her two years 
 before in a distant county, with a man 
 whose neglected, unprincipled wife after- 
 wards eloped from him. Lord Harlech 
 had taken great pains to stifle any report 
 of his daughter's weak, nay criminal en* 
 couragement of Sir Lionel's attentions 
 during that period ; and did indeed pre- 
 fer seeing Lady Sarah bestow her affec- 
 tions upon Mr. Barry(flimsy as he thought 
 him), to beholding her the bride of a pro- 
 fligate spendthrift. But the law having 
 just restored his liberty to Sir Lionel, 
 Lady Sarah was gone off with him to 
 Scotland, merely to spare herself conti- 
 nued <« scenes" with the scrupulous mem- 
 bers of her fairtily; 
 
 Such was the' morning intelligence des-
 
 COMING OUT. 117 
 
 tined to greet Mr. Barry when he sallied 
 forth the next afternoon, to leave his card 
 at Lord Harlech's, in his way to the parks, 
 where he expected to meet both the ob- 
 ject of his first love and of his last. We 
 will leave him sauntering towards his fate, 
 if such we are to consider this unlooked- 
 for event, and see what was passing, mean- 
 >vhile, at his home in Ireland. 
 ..'With Colonel and Mrs. Barry things 
 had been going on much as usual, save 
 that now and then certain panics seized 
 them ; and, for the time, a feeble effort 
 was made at limiting their own expenses, 
 and attempting to limit those of their 
 son. Both were, liowever, careful to keep 
 such liumihating alarms entirely to them- 
 selves : Alicia, therefore, did not even 
 suspect that her brother's frequent de- 
 mands for money were met with displea- 
 sure from any other cause than natural 
 disapprobation of the young man's pro- 
 fuseness ; and, in consequence, she some- 
 times ventured a little tender remon- 
 strance in her letters to him. 
 
 Alicia loved her brother j or, rather,
 
 118 COMING OUT. 
 
 would have loved him, had he permitted 
 her. She recollected his boyish days with 
 fond regret, when, in company with 
 Jocelyn Hastings, he used to play with, 
 or protect her; but since that period 
 nothing endearing had been added to 
 her stock of remembrances. 
 
 After launching upon the gay tides of 
 Dublin, Marcus had been successively 
 absorbed by the notion of being a man 
 at sixteen ; then, by a rage for notice ; 
 and, lastly, by devotion to Lady Don- 
 nington ; every one of these stages was 
 translatable into vanity and selfishness; 
 and the seed such a nature sowed, it 
 reaped. That warm affection which grew 
 spontaneously in a sister's heart, wanting 
 only common sunshine to ripen it, was 
 withering under a disregard almost 
 amounting to contempt. 
 
 Where no sympathies are met, no con- 
 fidence given, no interest expressed, af- 
 fection must decay. Alicia was chilled 
 by her brother's evident deadness to 
 family feelings ; and hearing, through 
 his more diffuse letters to his mother after
 
 COMING OUT. 119 
 
 he went to London, how entirely his 
 time was devoted to such pleasures as 
 Mr. M'^Manus had taught her to con- 
 sider at best frivolous, she could not 
 help contrasting his pursuits with what 
 she heard of their early associate Jocelyn 
 Hastings, and wishing, that, like Jocelyn, 
 he had rather aimed his arrow at the 
 heavens, than turned its point to the 
 swallowing waters. 
 
 Although her former playmate had (at 
 Mr. M^'Manus's cautious suggestion) 
 long ceased to accompany his epistolary 
 messages by presents to her and Flora, 
 AHcia had attributed the change, not to 
 caprice but to a probable decay of interest 
 in youthful friends at such a distance, 
 and of small pretensions to continued 
 recollection. Her disposition was too 
 humble for captiousness or for jealousy : 
 she could easily believe herself uncared 
 for by persons she loved, therefore often 
 wept her own supposed deficiency ; but 
 never did she feel the demon-pang of 
 that jealousy which grounds its cause of 
 suffering upon the worth or attractions of
 
 ISO COMING OUT. 
 
 another; consequently, when she thought 
 of a decaying affection, grief worked in her 
 for good, teaching her to search for the 
 root of the evil in herself, and seeking so, 
 to cast it out. 
 
 The more she heard of Jocelyn's intel- 
 lectual acquirements, the less she won- 
 dered at his seeming indifference to one 
 like herself; yet the more she felt stimu- 
 lated to deserve some portion of his re- 
 gard should they ever meet again. Thus 
 she perpetually stole an hour or two from 
 sleep every morning, before her time was 
 claimed by Mrs. Brudenell, to study books 
 given her with valuable comments by 
 Mr. M*^Manus ; and by such studies 
 the memory of Jocelyn Hastings was 
 unconsciously kept up. 
 V Five years after Jocelyn's departure 
 for England, Alicia's veneration for his 
 superiority of mind was increased by 
 deep interest in his altered fate : she was 
 ever disposed to see a halo round every 
 head stricken by calamity; and when mis- 
 fortune assailed him, it made her doubly 
 anxious to bestow a fuller tribute to his
 
 COMING OUT. fel 
 
 excellence. She had to pass through 
 many more years before she could lay 
 the practical lesson to heart, which the 
 highest authority teaches, that calamity 
 '' happens to the evil as well as to the 
 good,^' generally extracting more poison 
 from the one, and more ** precious oint- 
 ment" from the other. 
 
 In the case of Jocelyn Hastings, how- 
 €^^e^, neither her sympathy nor her adtnii'- 
 eation were misapplied. After distin- 
 i^^iiishing himself for genius and applica- 
 :?l;ion at college, after carrying off its prime 
 e honours, and leaving it with a character 
 for high self-command, w^hich few young 
 men with his facilities for wide indul- 
 gence could have maintained : he was 
 just entering the world under his liberal 
 uncle's e3^e, about the period of Marcus 
 Barry's first London season, when the 
 failure of a great mercantile speculation 
 in which Mr. Grant had been induced to 
 embark so much of his property, that 
 nearly all of it was finally mulcted, at 
 once burst the bubble of the young man's 
 •fortune, and deprived him oD his- pro- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 COMING OUT. 
 
 lector: Mr. Grant died of apoplexy in 
 consequence of the shock. 
 
 Jocelyn immediately determined to 
 take orders, limiting his worldly views to 
 the slender provision of the church, yet 
 rejoicing that his heart went with his 
 destiny ; and that he could pour all the 
 energies of his mind into that sacred 
 profession. Within a year after his un- 
 cle's death, he was applied to by the 
 father of a college acquaintance to un- 
 dertake the office of accompanying his 
 son abroad. The youth was in ill health, 
 and, a sea voyage being recommended by 
 the physicians, a passage was secured for 
 him and his friendly companion in a fri- 
 gate destined for the Mediterranean. As 
 the frigate was not to sail for six weeks, 
 and as Mr. M^'Manus was then about 
 to quit Ireland, Jocelyn had ample time 
 for crossing over from England on a 
 farewell visit to his old preceptor. 
 
 The visions of Jocelyn's boyhood were 
 vanished with his fortune, but its affec- 
 tions were not; and, fearless of danger 
 to the sanity of his present mind by
 
 COMING OUT. 123 
 
 seeing Alicia Barry (too confidently reck- 
 oning upon his own strength), he did not 
 hesitate to follow the impulse of his heart, 
 and to hasten, after the first night spent 
 at Mr. M^'Manus's, in search of her and 
 her family. The welcoming habit of the 
 Irish makes breakfast visits things of 
 common occurrence ; and, of all meals, 
 breakfast is the one which brings a per- 
 son more immediately into the bosom of 
 a domestic circle. When a boy, Jocelyn 
 had received a general invitation of the 
 kind from Colonel Barry, and had no 
 hesitation, therefore, in availing himself 
 of it now, to talk over old times, and 
 speak of his new views. 
 
 He entered the domain of the Colonel, 
 by the old lodge gate ; making his way, 
 as he thought, direct to the house ; but 
 great alterations had been made since his 
 intimacy with the wild grounds of Castle 
 Barry ; and a drive sweeping here, and a 
 walk diverging there, puzzled him so 
 completely that he took a wrong path, 
 and lost himself in a labyrinth of new 
 shrubberies. 
 
 G 2
 
 124 COMING OUT. 
 
 In this distress he wandered some time, 
 rather impatient of delay, yet not un- 
 mindful of the lavish sweets which the 
 mingling breaths of flowers and of the 
 second hay harvest (for it was the middle 
 of August) threw around him. He could 
 not forbear pausing to drink in the sweet 
 morning air, as his swelling heart followed 
 the heaven-ward flight of the lark, soar- 
 ing and singing above his head ; every 
 spray and leaf had its diamond pendants, 
 and the ground, covered with the heavy 
 dew bespeaking a hot day, shone like a 
 sheet of crystal under the fully-risen sun. 
 
 As this was the hour of the servants* 
 breakfast at Castle Barry, not a single 
 gardener was at work ; Jocelyn, therefore, 
 did not meet any one to direct him in his 
 wandering course. The first living ob- 
 ject he beheld was Flora, whom he had left 
 a little creature, running about with a 
 mimic lamb instead of a doll. She was 
 now as old as Alicia had been when he 
 quitted Ireland, and tall of her age. He 
 saw her at a distance, bounding over the 
 highgrass of a sunny field, where she had
 
 COMING OUT. 125 
 
 been making hay, and which a low stile 
 divided from the remote quarter where 
 he was straying. Flora's hat was off, and 
 a profusion of hair, like Alicia's, was 
 floating about on the autumn wind. 
 
 This hair, an accidental glow of com- 
 plexion, that indescribable air of family, 
 which is invariably to be found even 
 amongst persons decidedly plain and de- 
 cidedly hpndsome of the same parents, 
 made him forget the lapse of time ; and 
 springing forward with as eager a step as 
 her own, he leaped over the stile, and 
 caught the little girl in his arms. 
 
 Flora, who seeing a young man walk- 
 ing alone in their grounds, had mistaken 
 him for her brother, answered his hasty 
 caress by calling loudly upon her sister, 
 and struggling to get away. At her 
 voice, Alicia looked up from her em- 
 ployment of distributing bread, fruit, and 
 milk to the haymakers at their breakfast : 
 her head, like Flora's, was without other 
 covering than her own glittering hair : 
 neither cloak nor shawl concealed the 
 graceful lines of her youthful figure, and 
 G 3
 
 1^6 COMING OUT. 
 
 as she raised her face from the basket 
 over which she was bending, she pre- 
 sented a vision of youth, beauty, and be- 
 nevolence never to be forgotten. 
 
 Jocelyn looked at her with kindling 
 delight and softening remembrances: 
 the hours of childhood and boyhood; 
 the day-dreams of the latter happy pe- 
 riod; the kindness of Rose M^Manus, 
 and the fatherly care of her father ; 
 the late promise of fortune, and now 
 its crush; — all crowded upon his me- 
 mory and upon his heart. His eyes 
 moistened whilst he exclaimed in a pene- 
 trating tone : ** Alicia ! have you quite 
 forgot Jocelyn Hastings?" Alicia was 
 half on his neck the next instant. At 
 first she did not recognize his appearance ; 
 but the voice she heard belonged to the 
 dear past, — that past into which the image 
 of Rose M^'Manus was gone ! and as if 
 finding her again, she replied to his ani- 
 mated exclamation by a welcome of the 
 liveliest joy. 
 
 Rapid questioning and explaining fol- 
 lowed. Jocelyn described his bewilder-
 
 COMING OUT. 127 
 
 ment among Colonel Barry's improve- 
 ments ; and laughed over his mistake of 
 the sisters. Flora, with a soberized step 
 and subdued colour, had now no resem- 
 blance to Alicia, whose complexion alone, 
 varying through every lovely shade of 
 roseate hue, would have distanced rivalry, 
 even had her features been less perfect. 
 When the trio turned back together, it 
 was impossible for Jocelyn not to be ri- 
 veted by the shining out and vanishing 
 of these exquisite tints as Alicia spoke or 
 listened. Such a complexion could only 
 belong to a character of wide and deli- 
 cate sensibility : and when this charm was 
 heightened by a countenance of the soft- 
 est contour and sweetest expression ; by 
 eyes that, in spite of their tearful confu- 
 sion, sparkled like the diamond dews 
 around them, she appeared too dangerous 
 for a long survey. Jocelyn called home 
 his truant thoughts and eyes ; and as he 
 released her hand, retaining that of Flora, 
 expressed his wish of going directly in 
 search of Colonel and Mrs. Barry. 
 
 Eager to have her artless transports 
 G 4
 
 128 COMING OUT. 
 
 shared, Alicia ingenuously proclaimed 
 the desire ; and having neither bonnet 
 nor shawl to seek when rambling about 
 their own domain at so early an hour^ 
 she led the way by a short path to the 
 house. Colonel and Mrs. Barry were 
 not down stairs; but Flora flew up to 
 tell them who was come; and by the 
 time they joined their self-invited guest, 
 Mrs. Barry had quite got over the disa- 
 greeable surprise of finding Alicia had 
 been seen. ** Stuff! my dear,'' had been 
 the easy Colonel's exclamation, " the 
 young man is in the church now, you 
 know, with not a sixpence to bless him- 
 self with. Dismal enough I'll warrant! 
 And if he were to think Ally an angel, 
 will have no company of the sort our girl 
 is to go amongst, to say it to. Come, let 
 us be kind to the poor lad." 
 
 Nearly as simple as her husband (for 
 surely two simpler worldlings never ex- 
 isted ! ) Mrs. Barry went into the morn- 
 ing room as satisfied as he was, that Mr. 
 Hastings could not forestall the effect of 
 her daughter's beauty, by circulating a
 
 COMING OUT. 1^ 
 
 report of it in the best society. Of his 
 own heart being captivated, either by the 
 person or the loveUer character of AHcia, 
 she never once dreamt. Mrs. Barry ap- 
 peared to think that such nobihty of 
 beauty was to have its patent made out 
 solely for the rich and great ; therefore 
 received Jocelyn with genuine good hu- 
 mour; and as the young man himself 
 showed none of that humiliation or de- 
 jection which all parties had expected 
 from him, conversation during breakfast 
 became cheerful and agreeable. 
 
 After the first brief avowal of his own 
 completely altered circumstances, accom- 
 panied by an agitated tribute to the memory 
 and misfortune of his kind uncle, which it 
 cost him an effort to recover from, he left 
 saddening subjects for those of happier 
 interest. He talked about Marcus, la- 
 menting that they had not met when in 
 England, and professing to know no 
 more of his popular friend. Lady Don- 
 nington, than what common fame detailed. 
 He spoke, too, of Rose M'Manus's mar- 
 riage ; and of his venerable preceptor's 
 G 5
 
 ISO COMING OUT. 
 
 purpose of joining her and her husband 
 in Brazil, where the latter was now fixed 
 for three more years in consequence of a 
 new appointment. From the Atlantic he 
 naturally turned the discourse to the Me- 
 diterranean, whither he was so soon to 
 go himself. 
 
 Jocelyn was not yet solely merged in 
 the interests of his chosen and honoured 
 profession : the spirit within him was still 
 to be stirred by the idea of treading the 
 classic shores of Italy and Greece ; and 
 while he distinctly showed that loftier 
 aspirations would accompany him to the 
 rock of Patmos, than to the Parthenon of 
 Athens, he could not forbear recurring 
 to the objects of his boyish enthusiasm 
 with a more than permitted portion of 
 fire. 
 
 A purer morality and a clearer judg- 
 ment had already disenchanted him of 
 many unsound notions respecting that 
 love of fame which the example of 
 sages, legislators, and warriors had once 
 taught him to consider as the noblest 
 spring of action j but the names of those
 
 COMING OUT. 131 
 
 ancient worthies, still came on him with 
 the force of powerful music, rousing 
 multitudes of generous associations, and 
 dazzling him for a while, out of his ability 
 to weigh their motives with their actions. 
 
 Alicia, who had been suffered to remain 
 at breakfast, was all eye and ear while 
 Jocelyn spoke ; she listened to him as she 
 would have done to her brother, if such 
 had ever been the conversation of Marcus; 
 and if she looked for and missed the 
 peachy colouring and laughing look of 
 boyhood, she was not long in discovering 
 the deep interest of a face already 
 strongly marked with thought and feeling; 
 and over the silver paleness of which, 
 emotion alone, threw successive tides of 
 light rather than of colour. 
 
 As Jocelyn's themes varied, his counte- 
 nance and manner partook of the vari- 
 ation. The changes of his cheek ; his 
 smiling, or quivering lip ; his moistened, 
 or diffusively-brightening eye ; and the 
 deep expressiveness of his voice, were all 
 observed and admiringly felt by Alicia : 
 but Colonel and Mrs. Barry having no 
 G 6
 
 132 COMING OUT. 
 
 taste for intellectual or moral beauty, 
 silently agreed, that Jocelyn Hastings 
 was not grown in the least what they 
 would call handsome. Their daughter, 
 however, thought little of the perishable 
 medium through which she fancied she 
 saw the soul of Jocelyn : she had always 
 been prepared to see her former playmate 
 under a cloud of sadness ; for though she 
 knew nothing of poverty, except as she 
 saw it amongst the ignorant poor around, 
 her parents talked with such horror and 
 lowering pity of "poor Hastings' mi- 
 serable beggary," that although she felt 
 loss of fortune could not lessen his value 
 in her estimation, she believed dejection 
 in himself, unavoidable ; and with such 
 dejection she was inclined to sympathize 
 unscrutinizingly. Feelings so excited 
 would have been briefj and after years 
 would have taught her, that for one who 
 had embraced a profession which de- 
 manded conscientious indifference to the 
 distinctions of this world, with eager press- 
 ing on in a higher service, such dejection 
 would have been apostacy. Now she saw>
 
 COMING OUT. 135 
 
 and distinctly apprehended, that Jocelyn 
 did not consider himself in the slightest 
 degree shorn of his own proper claim upon 
 regard and respect by the ruin of worldly 
 prosperity ; she heard from his own lips, 
 that he voluntarily entered the service of 
 the church, — that he was content with its 
 lowest temporal wages, — that he neither 
 sought patronage nor pecuniary help, — 
 that he had that within, which armed him 
 with strength to combat all the ills 
 without. 
 
 There was something so heroic in this 
 magnanimous self-respect, when grounded 
 upon Christian principle, that as Jocelyn 
 briefly, yet clearly, alluded to such a state 
 of feeling, in answer to one of Colonel 
 Barry's condolences, Alicia thought his 
 spirit and his countenance, alike similar 
 to his whose face, we are told, shone like 
 the face of an angel when standing up to 
 witness to the truth. It was an abiding 
 impression, and no other's seal effaced it. 
 
 It was soon discovered that Jocelyn 
 Hastings could only remain a month in 
 Ireland ; Colonel and Mrs. Barry were
 
 134f COMING OUT. 
 
 what they called at home for the whole 
 summer, a general invitation was tliere- 
 fore given him. 
 
 Mrs. Barry made the most of this short 
 time ; for she was soon left sole manager 
 at Castle Barry, the Colonel being called 
 to Dublin upon his money concerns, 
 which indeed began now seriously to 
 alarm and engage him. 
 
 Next to beauty, Mrs. Barry naturally 
 ranked accomplishments as valuable for 
 a young lady, brought up solely with a 
 view to bringing out. Alicia's dancing 
 was already perfection, her French and 
 Italian accent she concluded perfect ; 
 but their governess could not teach 
 Spanish, and Spanish was just then the 
 fashion : that is, every young lady played 
 the guitar, and sang Spanish songs. Now, 
 if Spanish were as much the vogue a year 
 hence, what would become of the youth- 
 ful debutante, if she were unable to sing 
 in that language ? 
 
 Finding Jocelyn Hastings thoroughly 
 acquainted with it, this anxious mother 
 besought him to give her girl lessons, if
 
 COMING OUT. 135 
 
 but sufficient to assist her in pronunciation. 
 Alicia herself wished to acquire the lan- 
 guage ; and as she, with instinctive pro- 
 priety, included her sister in the petition 
 for instruction, Jocelyn could not refuse. 
 
 At first, Jocelyn saw no reason why he 
 should refuse, since he was indeed purely 
 solicitous to be of service to the higher 
 powers of Alicia's mind ; and he knew no 
 better way than the one offered. Many 
 opportunities would be thus afforded him, 
 of discoursing with her upon matters of 
 more import ; and so teaching her where 
 to seek armour for her gentle breast, when 
 she should be called upon to expose herself 
 in the conflict of life. He began therefore 
 to give his two pupils lessons in Spanish. 
 
 As Mrs. Barry was occupied with visit- 
 ing, or being visited, she could not make 
 one in those dangerous meetings. Mrs. 
 Brudenels, therefore, was installed in the 
 chair of surveillance : but Mrs. Brudenell 
 was not qualified to detect the subtle spirit 
 of love, when too pure an essence to be 
 embodied in passionate looks; and Jocelyn 
 himself, while unconsciously meeting the
 
 136 COMING OUT. 
 
 gratefully affectionate gaze of Alicia, with 
 the eyes of her protecting angel, was long 
 of suspecting that a selfish wish was min- 
 gling with his tenderness. 
 
 Protected from himself, as he vainly 
 thought, by the presence of two compa- 
 ratively indifferent objects, he was less 
 watchful over his own heart than he 
 ought to have been, whilst directing his 
 alternately serious and animated dis- 
 course to the one most interesting ; in- 
 deed, he rarely denied himself the plea- 
 sure of continuing excursive conver- 
 sation or reading, long after the regular 
 lessons were done ; and the intreaty of 
 Mrs. Barry, that he would catechise Flora, 
 *' because she was so wickedly fond of an 
 old Catholic priest at Hillstoun," giving 
 him a new pretext for self deception, he 
 went on, feeding a virtuous, yet unwar^ 
 ranted love, ever fancying the offering 
 laid solely upon the holiest of altars. 
 
 Hitherto Flora had repeated certain 
 creeds without understanding them ; and 
 Alicia herself, having been left by Rose 
 M^Manus in the rudiments of religious
 
 COMING OUT. 137 
 
 knowledge, was so sensible to a bewilder- 
 ment of ideas upon sacred subjects, that 
 she frequently paused in the midst of other 
 tasks to listen to Jocelyn Hastings. From 
 the moment in which her wistful look 
 denoted an awakened mind, warmth was 
 added to light in his illustration of diffi- 
 cult doctrines, and he exerted hhnself to 
 encourage her in frankly stating her 
 doubts and objections, that he might with 
 greater certainty satisfy hei* upon every 
 important point ; by this means, a cha- 
 racter of confiding affection was given to 
 their companionship, as dangerous as 
 delightful. 
 
 Ere the month of Jocelyn's lease was 
 expired, an unforeseen occurrence allowed 
 him to prolong his stay. The invalid 
 young man, whom he was to have accom- 
 panied in a cruize up the Mediterranean, 
 suffered so severe a relapse of illness, that 
 he was pronounced unfitted at present for 
 the probable effects of a sea voyage ; but 
 being advised to winter at Madeira, he 
 meantto attempt reachingit, after acquiring 
 the needful degree of strength. Although
 
 138 COMING OUT. 
 
 Mr. Hastings was still considered, kindly 
 engaged to accompany him ; the father of 
 the youth permitted him to remain in 
 Ireland, until the period of their joint 
 voyage could be absolutely fixed ; and as 
 this option was offered to Jocelyn before 
 he had the least suspicion of his danger 
 from Alicia Barry, he made no scruple 
 of accepting the permission to prolong 
 his stay. 
 
 Assuredly, never were more tempting 
 snares laid by the great Tempter for 
 mortal integrity. Jocelyn Hastings was 
 almost wooed by Mrs. Barry into perpe- 
 tual association with her young daughters. 
 If there were people staying in the house, 
 as Alicia was not yet to be exhibited, and 
 as her lessons must go on, and as bloom- 
 bestowing exercise must be taken, and as 
 Mr. Hastings could always be teaching 
 something, even during exercise, this 
 blind mother had no hesitation in com- 
 mitting her to his care, and that of Mrs. 
 Brudenell. Thus Jocelyn not only came 
 regularly every forenoon to the studying 
 room, but as duly joined the evening
 
 COMING OUT. 139 
 
 walks of the governess and her pupils : 
 infusing, as he strolled with them through 
 woods, and by waters, or met them at 
 Mrs. Judy M'Manus's early tea table, 
 the spirit of poetical taste ; and, as a mo- 
 dern divine admirably expresses it, couch- 
 ing the eye of the mind to the beauties 
 and bounties of creation. 
 
 An album being one of the indispens- 
 able outfits for a fine young lady, was at 
 this juncture suggested to Mrs. Barry's 
 thoughts. One, bound in blue and sil- 
 ver, with vellum leaves, was ordered, and 
 sent down from Dublin for Mr. Hastings 
 to illuminate after the fashion of an an- 
 cient missal; the ingenuity of its future 
 contributors was, therefore, to be tasked, 
 by finding, or writing verses, appropriate 
 to one or other of the painted head- 
 pieces. 
 
 But though Jocelyn cheerfully under- 
 took the task, laughingly declaring that 
 he could only complete it in a twelve- 
 month, he persisted in calling it Mrs. 
 Barry's album, that he might not accus- 
 tom himself to take pleasure in working
 
 140 COMING OUT. 
 
 for Alicia. The frontispiece of this choice 
 volume was to be a portrait of the house 
 at Castle Barry. 
 
 , It was an ancient structure, though not 
 built by the Colonel's immediate an- 
 cestors ; and, seen by moonlight, with 
 the long shadows of its turrets and its 
 trees thrown forward upon the lake, (by 
 the margin of which it stood,) was well 
 worthy the exercise of a painter's talent. 
 
 The important business of settling 
 points of view and effects of light ; the 
 suggestion of one, and the demurring of 
 another ; kept this drawing some time on 
 hand : and as Mr. Hastings w^as known 
 to draw with an artist's command of pen- 
 cil, Alicia was exhorted to attend, and 
 watch his mode of penning in and filling 
 up a sketch, in case she should ever be 
 visiting where sketching parties were the 
 fashion. 
 
 Thus, from their very avidity to ac- 
 complish their child for higher conquests, 
 our heroine's parents threw these young 
 persons too much together. In worldly 
 parents it was the extreme of folly j and
 
 COMING OUT. 141 
 
 can only be accounted for, by their total 
 ignorance of the human heart, and their 
 false dependence upon the degrading 
 effect of poverty. In parents seriously 
 and rightly solicitous for their child's 
 welfare, it would have been criminal j 
 since even to them, (if embarrassed in 
 their own circumstances hke Colonel and 
 Mrs. Barry,) Jocelyn's total want of for- 
 tune could not be overbalanced by the 
 value of his character. But such a father 
 and mother would not so have exposed 
 their daughter; nor have thus racked the 
 integrity of a young and ardent man. 
 
 One of the victims at length became 
 sensible of the parent's folly, and his own 
 imminent danger. Jocelyn was naturally 
 susceptible of the liveliest pleasure from 
 the contemplation of what was beautiful ; 
 his talent for drawing, heightened his per- 
 ceptions of grace and symmetry ; and a 
 habit of observing every thing picturesque 
 or graceful, caused him almost uncon- 
 sciously to follow the movements of 
 Alicia's figure, and the expressions of her 
 face, with ceaseless admiration. But her
 
 142 COMING OUT. 
 
 innocent unconsciousness of exceeding 
 beauty; her artless display of a heart over- 
 flowing with sweet affections ; of a mind 
 as yet " unstained and pure" from the 
 world; were even more baneful to him 
 than her external loveliness. Passion, 
 on such grounds, assumed the mask of 
 virtue. 
 
 " How blessed," he thought, ** would 
 be the task of guarding that lovely na- 
 ture ! of teaching its sweet owner that, 
 even under her bright flowers of inno- 
 cence and sensibility, the serpent's egg 
 lies couched, which, to crush, she must 
 first learn to fear ! Will her parents teach 
 her this self-distrust? O! no, no !" 
 
 Jocelyn was now well aware of Colonel 
 and Mrs. Barry's views for their daughter; 
 and many a solitary hour was embittered 
 to him by too strong an imagination of 
 her future fate. A season or two, he 
 thought, of dissipation and adulation — 
 a mercenary or forced marriage — a broken 
 or a hardened heart — a deceived or ruined 
 soul! 
 
 There were moments in which, when
 
 COMING OUT. 143 
 
 imagining these things, he scarcely knew 
 whether it were not virtuous in him to 
 wish her affections in his power, and so 
 to prefer poverty for her, nay, worldly 
 ruin for her, to such extinction of all that 
 was immortal in hope, and worthy in pre- 
 sent enjoyment. Yet again he asked 
 himself; why was he to suppose that 
 Alicia's character and religious principles 
 were not of a sort to set her above the 
 snares of vanity and ambition ? Why was 
 she not to find the noblest qualities united 
 with rank and fortune ? Why might not 
 she be one of those shining orbs whom 
 Providence pleases to set up in high 
 places for the enlightening and blessing 
 of others? And, after all, did it become 
 him to limit the power and counsels of 
 the Almighty, and to erect himself into 
 a sort of Providence by rash and unwar- 
 rantable attempts to counteract the evi- 
 dent plans of that Almighty ? Jocelyn 
 felt that he was indeed either grown pre- 
 sumptuous, or bewildered by some mis- 
 leading passion ; and self-examination 
 showed him where his offence lay.
 
 144 COMING OUT. 
 
 From the instant in which he becatne 
 fully sensible of his weakness, he was 
 sincere in the wish of shortening his visit 
 to Mrs. M'^Manus ; but Mrs. Barry was 
 so pathetic in her intreaties that he would 
 stay out the whole period named 'at^'his 
 second grant of leave, and -finish at least 
 half a dozen designs in her album, that 
 he saw no remedy. Conscience, how- 
 ever, could not be quieted. After' a Jfew 
 days' ineffectual struggle to keep axvay 
 from Castle Barry, and draw all day by 
 the side of Mr. M'Manus, hetooknhe 
 strong resolution of at once confessing 
 the situation of his heart to Alicia's 
 father, simply as a plea for not being 
 further detained ; and so quitting Ireland 
 directly. 
 
 He chose a morning upon which he 
 knew Mrs. Barry and Alicia were gone 
 for a long drive to make purchases ^t a 
 distant town ; therefore, not likely to 
 return ere he should have ended his cruel 
 task. He went to the avowal, not from 
 vain-gloriousness, seeking commendation 
 for sacrifice, biit in the pure spirit of sin-
 
 COMING OUT. 145 
 
 cerity ; anxious to confess his own fault, 
 that he might, with less ofFensiveness, ad- 
 monish another. He thought, that, by 
 proclaiming his own failing, he could 
 with more correctness press upon a fa- 
 ther's heart the necessity of taking a 
 higher view of a parent's duty ; and 
 might, perhaps, awaken Colonel Barry to 
 some apprehension for the consequences 
 of the hazardous throw which he seemed 
 inclined to make for his daughter's exalt- 
 ation. 
 
 Jocelyn prefaced his confession, by 
 saying, he came to thank Colonel Barry 
 for his kind hospitality, and to take leave, 
 as he was going from Mount Pleasant 
 that day. He paused a moment or 
 two ere he found voice for more ; but 
 finding it, he then briefly recapitulated 
 the reasons which urged him to this sud- 
 den departure, distinctly stating the truth, 
 — that from the instant in which he felt 
 himself too deeply interested in Miss 
 Barry, he had scrupulously guarded even 
 his very looks when in her society ; there- 
 fore, must believe Colonel Barry would 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 COMING OUT. 
 
 not require him to protest, that even the 
 profession of a peculiar friendship for her 
 had never escaped his lips, much less the 
 breath of a tender sentiment. ,j)iijp 
 
 The Colonel's astonishment was ex- 
 treme; not exactly at the passion his 
 daughter had inspired, but at the princi- 
 ple which could arm an ardent young 
 man, with the strong will, and stronger 
 ability, not only to tear himself from the 
 actual presence of a beloved object, bat 
 to cut himself off from all future inter- 
 course with her family, until his impru- 
 dent desires were mastered. 
 
 Such, indeed, was Jocelyn's solemn de- 
 termination. He did not utter it without 
 much, and evident emotion, though only 
 one sigh burst with it from his struggling 
 heart j and but for the changes of his cheek 
 and voice, no one might have guessed the 
 strength both of the passion and the prin* 
 ciple. 
 
 Colonel Barry could not understand 
 such a principle, much less could he 
 comprehend what he considered to be 
 the young man's contradictory conduct.
 
 COMING OUT. 147 
 
 when, after an agitated prayer that Alicia 
 might soon become the happy wife of a 
 man wholly worthy of such a trust, he 
 quitted the subject of his own regrets, 
 and addressed himself, in the spirit of dis- 
 interested afTectioii, to Colonel Barry as 
 a father. 
 
 In the character of a Christian minister, 
 young as he was, Jocelyn knew he had a 
 higher duty to perform than that of mere- 
 ly confessing his own weaknesses to an- 
 other fallible being : it became him to say 
 all the truth. He therefore endeavoured 
 to quell every personal view, while exhort- 
 ing the Colonel to weigh well the conse- 
 quences to his child ere he attempted to 
 influence her choice in marriage. He 
 then, with temperate firmness, briefly ex- 
 posed the dangerous tendency of the 
 showy education bestowing upon Alicia, 
 and of the plans Mrs. Barry proposed for 
 her appearance in the gay world. He 
 said nothing to undervalue Colonel Bar- 
 ry's pretensions, nor yet in absurd con- 
 tempt of that rank and station which give 
 such important influence, and which are 
 H 2
 
 148 COMING OUT. 
 
 K. « J 
 
 not unfrequently made instruments of the 
 highest good by their possessors ; but he 
 warned the parent of the many pits into 
 which innocence and peace might fall, 
 while in pursuit of those distinctions ; 
 suggesting the better wisdom of rather 
 fostering Alicia's sweet dispositions 
 amongst less tempting scenes, than urging 
 her into the acquirement of such tastes 
 and habits, as might finally pervert her 
 character, and destroy even family com- 
 fort. Colonel Barry was either wilfully 
 stupid, or positively incapable of under- 
 standing what was meant by parental re- 
 sponsibility and filial sacrifice 5 for though 
 Jocelyn had stated, as clearly as possible, 
 what was the duty of parents professing 
 belief in the brevity of this life, and the 
 eternity of another, and wherein they 
 would sin against God's laws, and the 
 witness of every man's conscience, the 
 Colonel drew up a defence for himself, 
 of which every separate article was one 
 of these forbidden purposes. He said, 
 <' he hoped that he and Mrs. Barry knew^ 
 their duty to their children as well as other
 
 COMING OUT. 149 
 
 people. It %as' very simple— to do every 
 thing in their power to promote their ad- 
 vancement in life, and to make them hap- 
 py. Marcus could amply testify in their 
 favour on this subject : the Colonel was 
 proud to say, that to keep up his son's 
 good connections, he supplied his purse 
 with a liberality which sometimes obliged 
 him to limit his own free expenditure 5 
 and then, upon Alicia's accomplishments, 
 he had already expended a pretty fortune. 
 Now, as he was not educating his girl to 
 ;;pend her days with him, he flattered 
 himself he deserved some credit for most 
 disinterested and generous affection ! 
 Mrs. Barry too took her share in sacrifice 
 of self. What could Mr. Hastings imagine 
 she went so much about for, if it was not 
 to keep up and extend their acquaintance 
 amongst a certain set against the time of 
 Alicia's coming out ? And as to the sub- 
 ject oi marriage, Mr. Hastings might rely 
 upon it that Ally would never be forced 
 to marry any man. He was quite sure 
 she would have so many eligible matches 
 liu ijjH s
 
 150 COMING OUT. 
 
 proposed to her, that her own good sense 
 would naturally choose the best, of itself.*^ 
 
 It was in vain that Jocelyn tried to 
 show how lamentably a young and vir- 
 tuous heart must be perverted, ere itwould 
 choose only from a regard to rank or 
 riches ; in vain did he attempt to impress 
 the Colonel with a sense of his miscalcu- 
 lation for the welfare of his children in a 
 mere worldly view, when he thus supplied 
 one with the means of contracting extri- 
 vagant habits, which his after fortune 
 might not enable him to continue, and 
 stimulated another into quiescence, under 
 the thought of bartering her best happi- 
 ness for a sounding name. 
 
 Colonel Barry would hear no more, ex- 
 cept Jocelyn's sincere expressions of 
 gratitude for his having heard so much 
 with an unruffled temper ; and shuffling 
 the business up, recommended his young 
 friend to leave Castle Barry before the 
 ladies returned ; undertaking to make an 
 apology for him, ■ — relying, as he said he 
 would do, upon Mr. Hastings's honour, 
 not to take any steps for enlightening
 
 COMING OUT. 151 
 
 his daughter upon the true reason for so 
 hasty a departure. 
 
 An expressive smile parted Jocelyn's 
 hps at the word honour ; a sigh followed 
 the smile 5 he felt that mere honour, op- 
 posed to his passionate wish of once 
 pouring out his soul to Alicia, would 
 have been like a band of flax round the 
 hands of a giant. Happily he knew the 
 force of a stronger law : and though even 
 he, could not yet yield to its wholesome 
 severity with the full consent of our frail 
 mortal hearts, he was resolute in the pur- 
 pose of obeying that law, and striving to 
 yield it a willing obedience. Leaving 
 only a brief message of thanks and good 
 wishes to the absent members of Colonel 
 Barry's family in general, he took one 
 hurried look round the room they were 
 in, as if bidding that too farewell ; while 
 commending the future fruit of his im- 
 perfect counsel to the care of Providence, 
 he bowed upon the hand of Alicia's 
 father, wrung it hastily, and passed out 
 of the house. 
 
 Flora was the first person Jocelyn had 
 H 4<
 
 152 COMING Ot/#. 
 
 seen when he entered Castle Barry — she 
 was the last he saw there. He found her 
 learning her French lesson in an evergreen 
 arbour, near the private entrance from 
 Mount Pleasant, and as she jumped up to 
 meet him, he took out of his breast a 
 sketch book, in which he had often made 
 studies of favourite cattle and trees at her 
 desire, and putting it into her hand, bade 
 her keep it for his sake, for he was going 
 away. Strengthened by previous humili- 
 ation, because more than ever aware of 
 his natural yearning to be understood by 
 Alicia, Jocelyn mastered the infirm im- 
 pulse which urged him, at parting from 
 Flora, to commission her with a farewell 
 message to her sister. His whole soul 
 was ready to pour itself out in words, as 
 it forcibly did in drops of agony. Upon 
 pressing the unconscious girl in a brother- 
 ly embrace, his lips parted to pronounce 
 the name of Alicia, and closed without 
 uttering it. 
 
 Let not the headstrong passion of those 
 whose youth has never known the bridle 
 of human authority, nor the awful curb
 
 COMING OUT. 153 
 
 of ajiigher command, deem lightly of 
 the pang then rending the mortal part 
 of Joscelyn's nature. He believed himself 
 surrendering his all in this world, while 
 obeying the law, whose sacred authority 
 he was appointed to proclaim to others, 
 and to keep inviolate in himself; he was 
 leaving, too, the creature most beloved, 
 in a fiery furnace of temptation. What 
 atrial of faith, as well as of submission ! 
 He was equal to it now, having felt the 
 pernicious effect of his former self-con- 
 fidence ; and become convinced that, in 
 committing Alicia's course through life 
 to the guidance of an Almighty arm, he 
 need not grieve, for her sake, that his 
 might not support her. 
 
 Nothing less than the heroism of 
 Christian principle, in its fullest sense, 
 could so have fortified a young and 
 burning heart against the seduction of 
 an affection, conscious to its own present 
 purity, and throbbing through all its 
 pulses with anxiety for the eternal wel- 
 fare of its object : nothing less than the 
 firmest persuasion of a rich recompense 
 H 5
 
 I54f COMING OUT. 
 
 in another existence could have pre- 
 served him from utter desolation of soul, 
 while thus tearing himself from the pos- 
 sible chance of maintaining some partial 
 remembrance of himself in the bosom 
 most valued* He knew that he could 
 not marry Alicia Barry, ev^en if she loved 
 him, without plunging her and himself 
 into that worldly ruin, which, if wil- 
 fully incurred, is sinful, not pitiable ; 
 and that, trusted as he had been by hei 
 parents, (rash or inconsiderate as they 
 were,) so to abuse their confidence would 
 be the height of guilt Still, however, 
 to have Alicia Barry impressed with 
 false notions of his character, seemed too 
 severe a requirement: if she did not 
 suspect him of excess of regard, she must 
 accuse him of caprice or ingratitude. 
 
 Until this moment, no sacrifice had 
 been demanded of Jocelyn's principles, 
 which cost him an instant's self conflict, 
 nor one day of unqualified regrets. Except 
 for his kindly uncle's sake, he had not 
 lamented their loss of fortune. For any 
 purpose beyond that of generous disposal^
 
 COMING OUT* 155 
 
 he cared little for wealth ; and for station 
 in society, he considered himself still 
 entitled to that which honourable descent* 
 a complete education, and unblemished 
 character, give a man a right to com- 
 mand. Thus, he was untried when he 
 entered the dangerous sphere of Castle 
 Barry, and his strength had failed in 
 the trial ! He had suffered the charms 
 of Alicia's sweetness, and the interest 
 caused by her perilous beauty, to per- 
 vade and penetrate every sense, when he 
 ought to have foreseen the consequences 
 to his own peace : and, after finding 
 himself in danger, he ought to have been 
 more earnest in seeking higher aid than 
 his own wavering will ; or to have witli- 
 drawn at once from Ireland, in despite 
 of any solicitation to the contrary. It 
 is true, he had neither sought nor 
 acquired any undue power over Alicia's 
 affections 5 that is, he sincerely believed 
 himself purely considered by her as a 
 zealous friend and profitable companion j 
 but who was to say how much mischief he 
 had done to his own powers of mind, bv 
 H 6
 
 456 COMING OUT. 
 
 thus admitting the growth of an usurping 
 passion ? and, if without fault against 
 her and her parents, dare he think him- 
 self blameless to Him whose servant he 
 was professedly become ? After having 
 once taken upon him the high trust of 
 Christian ministry, he ought to believe 
 his warmest affections and highest powers 
 dedicated to such noble service. It was 
 not for him, then, to waste life in de- 
 jected listlessness, w^hen the care of souls 
 was committed to him : and would he 
 not waste it thus, if he failed to wrestle 
 with this infant Titan, ere it should 
 grow to giant strength ? 
 
 Not even blind passion could fancy 
 hope at the remotest distance. Jocelyn 
 had no prospect of preferment or future 
 fortune ; Colonel and Mrs. Barry were 
 wedded to the vanities of life ; their 
 son was avowedly running the same de- 
 structive race; their daughters were 
 educating for a similar course, (though 
 he prayed God that all the evil of such a 
 destiny might be averted from them 5) 
 and as he abhorred the idea of tempting
 
 COMING OUT. 157 
 
 an inexperienced heart to 'ibaridoii a 
 known duty for any imaginable good in 
 an adopted one, even had his circum- 
 stances permitted it, he would not have 
 wished AUcia his, either in deed or pro- 
 mise, unless sanctioned by her parents. 
 How then could he answer it to his con- 
 science, were he, by any indiscreet act 
 or message, to awaken in her a suspicion 
 of his attachment, and excite the tender 
 sentiment of compassion where he ought 
 to wish himself forgotten ? 
 
 Oppressed, exhausted, faint with inter- 
 nal struggle (for there had been struggle, 
 or there could not have been victory), 
 Jocelyn threw himself down at the root 
 of an old beech-tree in Mr. M^'Manus's 
 small domain, where, curtained by its 
 low-hanging boughs, and showered on 
 by its falling leaves, he strove to com- 
 pose his thoughts and looks ere he ap- 
 proached the house. 
 
 Thought and inward apostrophes were 
 long ineffectual. At length he took out 
 one httle book, without which he rarely 
 went unaccompanied 5 and, selecting
 
 158 COMING OUT. 
 
 a part, of sovereign power for every 
 heart's pain, read in it, till his bosom- 
 wound ceased to bleed. In the midst of 
 this blessed study, the sound of steps 
 startled him ; the next moment he heard 
 the voices of AUcia and her mother. He 
 guessed that they had quitted their car- 
 riage at Mount Pleasant, and were coming 
 by this short way into their own grounds. 
 His heart suddenly beat with tumultuous 
 oblivion of every thing but the joy oi 
 seeing Alicia again. It was only a mo- 
 ment's faltering ; the conquering prin- 
 ciple returned : and, pushing through 
 some obstructing shrubs, he got beyond 
 the temptation and the dangerous sound 
 of a beloved voice, ere either of the walk-^^ 
 ers knew he had been near them. 
 
 The same day Jocelyn quitted the 
 county of Waterford, and was on his way 
 to Plymouth, while Colonel Barry was 
 astonishing his lady by an account of Mn 
 Hastings's extraordinary conduct; finish- 
 ing his description of their interview, by 
 expressing a well-meant wish, " that the 
 poor lad's misfortunes might not have
 
 COMING OUT. 159 
 
 absolutely turned his brain." Nothing 
 less than insanity could account, the 
 Colonel thought, for the young man's 
 folly in telling him of his fancy for his 
 daughter, when he was so properly con- 
 vinced of its madness, and might have 
 gone off with his secret unsuspected. 
 
 Mrs. Barry was very near becoming 
 devout, so many and so energetic were 
 her ejaculations of thoughtfulness, — ^ 
 " that the odd young man was positively 
 gone, without doing any mischief to him- 
 self or them T' and having ascertained 
 that he had not taken her^ Album with 
 him, she betook herself to find out how 
 and where she could get its blank leaves 
 elegantly illuminated. 
 
 The motive for Mr. Hastings's abrupt 
 departure remained a secret between this 
 amicable pairj and as neither of them 
 were troubled with a nice sense of justice, 
 they took no pains to vindicate the young 
 man's character, even by one ordinary 
 suggestion, when Alicia's governess in- 
 veighed against the unbecoming airs of 
 ** a person, like Mr. Jocelyn Hastings,
 
 160 COMING OUT. 
 
 presuming to go and come as the humour 
 took him, without attending to such forms 
 of good-breeding as were invariably ex- 
 pected the most from persons least ac- 
 quainted with the best society." 
 
 AHcia, upon whom this sudden depar- 
 ture had fallen with the force of a thun- 
 derbolt, was at first too much astounded, 
 nay dismayed, to take up his defence ; 
 but when she recovered the shock, she 
 openly proclaimed her belief that Mr. 
 Hastings was incapable of caprice or un- 
 gratefulness; that he must have been 
 hurried away by some business which he 
 might not explain, and that he would 
 certainly write to some of them after he 
 got to England. 
 
 The openness with which she said this, 
 and the simple earnestness with which 
 she avowed her opinion that Jocelyn's 
 patience had been worn out by her dull- 
 ness during their Spanish lessons, per- 
 fectly satisfied her parents that Jocelyn 
 had indeed never given her the slightest 
 idea of his attachment ; and supposing 
 that no preference could exist in her 
 12
 
 cdniNcf OUT. 161 
 
 heart even for the most transcendent ex- 
 cellence, unless wooed to bestow it, they 
 dismissed every doubt ; and things then 
 went on in their usual train. 
 
 Not so in the bosom of their inexpe- 
 rienced, unguided child. She felt every 
 day, every hour, a blank, and she won- 
 dered • why they were so : she lost her- 
 self in thinking why Jocelyn should have 
 gone without taking leave of her and her 
 mother, when she knew from Mr. M*^Ma- 
 nus, that he had not left Mount Pleasant 
 till the evening ? She questioned Flora 
 again and again as to how he looked, and 
 what he said, when he took leave of her 
 in the ivy arbour ? Still asking for the 
 recital to be repeated, although its repe- 
 tition never failed to make her shed 
 tears. 
 
 Numberless small circumstances, which 
 a practised heart would have known to 
 proceed from integrity struggling with 
 love, pressed on her memory, yet brought 
 no other conviction to her mind, than that 
 Mr. Hastings had a benevolent interest 
 in her, and had been solicitous to instruct
 
 I6i2 COMING OUT. 
 
 her from the very best motive, but that 
 either her nervous confusion of faculties 
 when studying with him, or the poverty 
 of her imagination as displayed by their 
 frequent conversations, had prevented 
 him from feeling an individual interest in 
 her character. She would have envied 
 Flora his parting gift, had she not been in 
 possession of a greater — the very book 
 he was reading; when she and her mother 
 came upon him unawares at Mount Plea- 
 sant. Without guessing that he had 
 flown at their approach, but seeing the 
 well-known pocket vohime lying open 
 upon the autumnal leaves, she lifted it, 
 purposing to give it him on the morrow. 
 The page on which the book was open 
 was wet (she knew not that his tears had 
 wetted it), and mistaking the moisture 
 for dew, she had carefully wiped it off. 
 Now that Jocelyn returned no more to 
 claim it, and her mother had forgotten it, 
 she kept the precious volume as a re- 
 membrancer of her friend ; and, above 
 all, of what he had most laboured to 
 teach her.
 
 COMING OUT. l63 
 
 To read in this book, to think over it, 
 nay, often to weep over it, with thoughts 
 wide wandering from its sacred subjects, 
 but still in unison with its pure precepts, 
 was long the business of Alicia's solitary 
 night hours : yet she dreamt not that she 
 loved him of whom she thought thus in- 
 voluntarily and wishfully. She believed 
 Jocelyn worthy of lasting admiration 
 and affection ; she believed he would 
 readily yield the same to every one de- 
 serving of his regard ; and she grieved, 
 that after all the pains bestowed upon 
 herself i she was so little attaching, that 
 the daily companion of two recent months, 
 and of some former years, could go away, 
 nor even say, God bless her, except by a 
 general message of farewell. 
 
 Days, nay weeks, passed, and no letter 
 arrived from him at Castle Barry. He did 
 write, however, to Mr. M^'Manus ; and 
 from him she heard that Hastings had 
 sailed for Madeira. Another message of 
 grateful remembrance to Colonel Barry 
 and his family came in this letter, and 
 with that Alicia was obliged to be satis-
 
 164 
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 fied ; or rather, by that, to assure her- 
 self he was indeed gone, and that the 
 preposterous hope with which she had 
 now and then cheated her sorrow, was 
 wholly vain. She had fancied a farewell 
 letter from him to her mother would 
 come with the news of his departure. 
 
 Perhaps there are few feelings more 
 painful than our first pang, when con- 
 vinced that a person who has been much 
 to ourselves, is gone, without warning 
 from us, and evidently without thought 
 or purpose of return. There is a dreari- 
 ness in the conviction, an instant extinc- 
 tion of sympathy and hope, which seems, 
 for the time, to carry death to the heart. 
 Something too of disappointment in wor- 
 shipped character, mixes with our pain. 
 
 This feeling was long and deeply felt 
 by Alicia Barry 5 but as she forbore to 
 express it, not from any consciousness of 
 the infant affection for him which Joce- 
 lyn's resolute self-sacrifice was smother- 
 ing, but from tender apprehension of 
 causing him to be censured, no one knew 
 how much she suffered. In less than
 
 COMING OUT. 165 
 
 five months after Jocelyii's departure, 
 Mr. M^Maniis and his sister removed 
 from the neighbourhood of Castle Barry ; 
 therefore no one was left there whose 
 conversation was likely to draw forth 
 Alicia's unsuspected feelings. 
 
 The appointment bestowed upon Mr. 
 Beresfbrd being in a part of South Ame- 
 rica particularly interesting to naturalists, 
 and a rheumatic complaint, for which a 
 warm climate promised a cure, having 
 attacked Mr. M^'Manus, induced him to 
 let his pleasant house, and expatriate him- 
 self for the term of his daughter's resi- 
 dence at Rio Janeiro. 
 
 Alicia parted from this valuable friend 
 with unfeigned regret ; since with Mr. 
 M'^Manus went the last of her earliest 
 friends : but the thought of seeing him 
 again, accompanied by Rose and her 
 husband, at the expiration of three years, 
 kept her from utter desolation ; and 
 taught her, that while an expectation is 
 left by gracious Providence, we ought 
 not to sink under present trial. 
 
 Her mind was shortly occupied, in spite
 
 166 COMING OUT. 
 
 of herself, with imaginations and appre- 
 hensions connected with her approaching 
 birth-day. On the last day of April, she 
 was to bid eternal farewell to the school- 
 room, basket bonnets, and clog shoes; 
 and to launch at once on a glittering 
 ocean, with every sail set, and every pen- 
 dant flying, for the shores of joy. 
 
 Mrs. Barry now broke silence upon 
 the subject of her extraordinary beauty, 
 and what was expected from it, as an in- 
 demnification to her parents for all their 
 expense and care ; and what she must 
 do to ensure the brilliant destiny they an- 
 ticipated for her. She distinctly stated 
 her expectation, that Lady Donnington 
 would rapturously invite her to come out 
 under her auspices, in the London haut 
 ton, the very next season ; or perhaps 
 during the present, should Marcus's mar- 
 riage have taken place ere it closed. At 
 any rate, the moment Marcus married, 
 his sister might be certain of being asked 
 to accompany him and his wife to some 
 fashionable resort, either abroad or at 
 home; when mixing familiarly with a
 
 COMING OUT. 167 
 
 smaller circle of distinguished personages, 
 she could not fail of acquiring such a 
 manner as was necessary for a young 
 woman*s effective appearance in public ; 
 therefore, by the time the town had 
 reassembled, she would be quite fit- 
 ted to produce herself with Lady Don- 
 nington, or Lady Sarah Barry, for a 
 chaperon. 
 
 While Mrs. Barry, in pronouncing the 
 titled name of her future daughter-in- 
 law, thought only of her rank, Alicia's 
 simpler heart flowed with a partial feel- 
 ing towards the young woman, whose 
 sentiments could not be of a worldly 
 nature, or she would not have encouraged 
 the attachment of a mere gentleman j 
 and half playfully she adverted to the 
 circumstance, beseeching her mother to 
 let her remain of Lady Sarah's opinion, 
 namely, that the middle rank of life is 
 the safest and the happiest. 
 
 Alicia, in truth, saw nothing presented 
 
 to her in the coming future, except a race 
 
 of vanity, with the goal of marriage at 
 
 the end of it j and for the qualifications 
 
 14
 
 168 COMING OUT. 
 
 of the husband desired, nothing seemed 
 asked beyond fashion and fortune. 
 
 Ideas, natural to youth, at least to 
 worthy youth, upon both subjects, ex- 
 pressed with all the energy of which her 
 gentleness was capable, were laughed at 
 by her good-humoured mother, who 
 treated them as pretty speeches, quite 
 right to say, but not to act upon ; vision- 
 ary notions, expressed by a girl wholly 
 ignorant of what she was undervaluing. 
 ♦* Every little simpleton, before she comes 
 out, says exactly the same, my dear 
 Ally !'* was Mrs. Barry's easy observ- 
 ation. <* Wait a few months, and then 
 see what you think of pubHc places, and 
 being amongst the first in the best 
 society." 
 
 Alicia more than doubted, that no 
 society would ever be so dear and de- 
 lightful as that which she had enjoyed, 
 during many a winter, round the turf- 
 fire at Mount Pleasant; when Rose 
 M^Manus presided over the tea-table, 
 and Jocelyn helped her with the bright 
 kettle ; and Alicia herself alternately
 
 COMING OUT. 169 
 
 watcfied and waited on the silver-headed 
 Mr. M'^Manus, as he took his tea and 
 told anecdotes of the interesting men of 
 his day. 
 
 Alicia was right in this belief: for, in 
 those times, she was at that age when 
 every kindling capacity is awake, and 
 eager for information ; when the convers- 
 ation of older and more intelligent per- 
 sons gives enthusiastic pleasure to the 
 young, and, as it opens their minds, 
 opens their hearts also, to pure and 
 gi'ateful affections. 
 
 Sweet and dear also is the remem- 
 brance in after life, when all our passions 
 are afloat, and our rectitude endangered 
 by the excess of permitted affections — 
 sweet and dear is the remembrance of 
 the period in which we have enjoyed the 
 the highest delight from pleasures into 
 which no doubtful or dangerous feeling 
 entered ! of places so simple, that every 
 feature of them is instantly present to 
 memory : the well-known pictures on the 
 walls J the familiar forms of useful fur- 
 niture (each article of which, affectionate 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 COMING OUT. 
 
 fancy has more particularly appropriated 
 to some preferred individual) ; the cheer- 
 ful hearth ; the very carpet of the floor 
 on which so many of our joyous steps 
 have been printed j all, all come on our 
 hearts in the midst of tumultuous shows, 
 or in the still midnight after such glare 
 is gone, with gushes of yearning tender- 
 ness ! — and if the grave has closed over 
 some or all of the bright faces and warm 
 hearts, which then beamed on, and beat 
 with our own, O who may tell our deep, 
 deep feeling of desolation? Could 
 Alicia have fully comprehended what was 
 the exhibition for which her parents 
 destined her, and the sole purpose for 
 which they had been educating her very 
 beauty, it is probable she would have 
 refused indignantly, though fearfully, to 
 stain the maiden modesty of her character, 
 by submitting to such degradation ; but, 
 without wit for an arranged tissue of 
 deceptions, Mrs. Barry instinctively ma- 
 naged to impress her credulous child with 
 the conviction, that her parents only 
 sought to give her pleasure hereafter.
 
 COMING OUT. 171 
 
 and to see her happily settled, although 
 they persisted in supposing that she 
 would soon find both, in things at pre- 
 sent distasteful. 
 
 Believing her mother's intentions 
 purely kind, the artless girl cheerfully 
 consented to try the experiment, and go 
 to Dublin or to London whenever it 
 was required of her ; trusting that if, 
 after that, she continued to prefer home 
 and tranquil occupations, she might be 
 permitted to return, and resume them for 
 life. 
 
 As Alicia's seventeenth birth-day did 
 not occur till the month of April was 
 just closing, and the Dublin season was 
 ended (in consequence of a great 
 personage's illness), she had a reprieve 
 from the exhibition she dreaded. Mrs. 
 Barry's confident expectation of her 
 son's marriage, and of his sister's conse- 
 quent invitation by his titled bride, con- 
 siderably reconciled her to this delay. 
 But she herself was not to be kept away 
 from pleasant things all tliat tedious time ; 
 I 2
 
 17^ COMING OUT, 
 
 and she soon accepted an invitation to 
 join a party at the Black Rocks, where 
 private theatricals, public breakfasts, and 
 incessant gossip, formed a whimsical con- 
 trast to the nun-like retirement in which 
 Mrs. Brudenell was exhorted to preserve 
 her youthful charge during the period of 
 Colonel and Mrs. Barry's absence. 
 
 Even so, Alicia enjoyed her seques- 
 tration: for she had numberless inter- 
 esting employments ; some useful to 
 others, some improving or amusing to 
 herself; some the consequence of Jocelyn 
 Hastings's wider practice of benevolence, 
 during his two months visit at Mount 
 Pleasant. Flora, too, was growing into 
 her heart by a thousand nameless sym- 
 pathies of unfolding taste and feeling ; 
 and although Flora was not in the least 
 handsome, her countenance was full of 
 such vivid sensibility and awakened intel- 
 lect, that its movements were more in- 
 teresting than common place beauty. 
 Alicia unconsciously liked her sister's 
 face the better, because now and then a 
 momentary look of her earnest eyes^
 
 COMING OUT. 173 
 
 recalled the finer expression of Jocelyn 
 Hastings. 
 
 Poor Flora, however, had a proud 
 heart and a violent temper. She was 
 subject to frenzies of anger ; and her 
 pride too often withheld her from ac- 
 knowledging their excess, or making 
 reparation for their devastations. Yet as 
 she confessed the enormity of both her 
 faults on her own repentant pillow, and 
 felt that she was not truly penitent until 
 she could openly humble herself, the 
 struggles of rebelHous nature with the 
 better principle were sore and frequent. 
 This alternately stormy and sunny charac- 
 ter Alicia watched with lovely and loving 
 gentleness; unwearied, even when her 
 dove-like spirit went forth again and again 
 over its troublous waters, nor found rest- 
 ing-place to abide on, nor green herb to 
 bring back in sign of peace. But Flora 
 was not always sullen or resentful ; and 
 the lesson which she spurned at the 
 moment, never failed to sink into her 
 heart, and soften it to amendment. She 
 loved her sister with aching intensity ; — 
 I 3
 
 I74f COMING OUT* 
 
 nay, to a passionateness which often ren- 
 dered her too susceptible of injury of- 
 fered, or pain occasioned to Alicia by 
 their parents themselves. Her premature 
 intellect, indeed, gave her too quick an 
 insight into the faults of her parents ; so 
 that had not Alicia happily acquired a 
 power over her, she would have been 
 in danger of despising authority, and of 
 arrogating a superiority of judgment to 
 herself, which even the most forward 
 youth may not claim. 
 
 To describe the sentiments of both sis^ 
 ters towards their parents, is a difficult 
 task. It could not be said, that either of 
 them loved their father and mother as 
 they really tried to do, and believed they 
 did ; for Flora had too much mind, and 
 Alicia too much heart, for that feeling 
 of love towards such persona as Colonel 
 and Mrs. Barry, as blesses the children 
 of parents formed to inspire filial devotion, 
 and to render it a safe worship. 
 
 Neither of the sisters were aware of 
 any unkindness or wilful neglect on the 
 part of their good-tempered mother j nay,
 
 COMING OUT. 17^ 
 
 they remembered a succession of petty 
 indulgences about fine clothes, holidays, 
 hirth'da.y Jetes, &c., and most particular 
 solicitude to have them highly accom- 
 plished : still they could not even then 
 feel that any valuable seed had been 
 carefully sown, or carelessly scattered, by 
 father or mother ; and, as such, there was 
 a barrenness in their thoughts tov/ards 
 them, which was less the fault of the soil 
 than of its proprietors. 
 
 On the score of duty, however, both 
 sisters were thoroughly principled. Al- 
 though their religious knowledge was yet 
 in its dawn, therefore often shadowed by 
 misapprehensions, it awakened them to 
 a clear view of earthly obligations ; and 
 the commandment to honour their parents 
 being enforced on their hearts by the ex- 
 ample of Rose M^'Manus, became doubly 
 powerful from its illustration in her per- 
 son, and that of her husband. 
 
 Rose had been for years a sort of mar- 
 tyr in witness of filial duty. Neither she, 
 nor the admirable young man to whom she 
 was then engaged, allowed themselves to 
 I 4
 
 176 COMING OUT. 
 
 think of marrying, until he had obtained 
 a long-promised official appointment, 
 which would enable him to sell out of the 
 army, and give up the sum obtained from 
 his commission, (together with all the 
 small income they had hitherto shared 
 with him,) to a widowed mother and 
 sister. 
 
 Rose's willing devotion to her father's 
 comfort for those six or seven years of 
 weary waiting, was admirably calculated 
 to stamp additional reverence upon the 
 sacred duty of a child ; and Alicia never 
 wished to forget the heart-rending, almost 
 self-accusing regret, with which Rose had 
 risen from her father's parting embrace, 
 when quitting her home for such a distant 
 land as that of Brazil. 
 
 Such scenes and impressions are abiding 
 lessons, and would have been invaluable ; 
 had there been any experienced or en- 
 lightened friend at hand, to have separ- 
 ated error carefully from truth, defined 
 the limits even of our greatest duties, and 
 shown how necessary it may be sometimes 
 for a parent's injunctions to be weighed
 
 COMING OUT. 177 
 
 in the balance of God's laws, ere the 
 humblest child obeys them. Alicia and 
 Flora were left to slower and surer 
 teaching. 
 
 Flora's remembrances of Jocelyn Hast- 
 ings were as fresh and as fondly cherished 
 as those of Alicia. She loved him, as a 
 child of twelve years old might do, to in- 
 nocent excess ; for, in addition to all she 
 had heard of him from her infancy 
 amongst the old servants at Mount Plea- 
 sant, after he had quitted it, she saw how 
 kind he was to the poor, and how delight- 
 ful he made himself at Castle Barry during 
 his late visit. 
 
 Her fast-ripening mind had rendered 
 her alive to the kindling effect of his va- 
 ried conversation: she felt something of 
 gratified pride, in discerning that he did 
 not consider her as a mere child ; that he 
 often addressed an uncommon remark to 
 her ; and never made one of those cruelly 
 careless observations upon her mere fea- 
 tures, which she was accustomed to hear 
 from her parents, and other coarse- 
 minded persons.
 
 178 COMING OUT. 
 
 Flora felt that Mr. Hastings found 
 something pleasing in a face, where, in- 
 deed, heart and mind were ever working, 
 since he had more than once told her she 
 was growing like Alicia, >She felt that 
 he understood her fits of melancholy taci- 
 turnity and rash rejoinders, for he soothed 
 both when others were dealing harshly 
 Avith her. There is something flattering 
 to self-love in the notion of being under- 
 stood, or of being solicitously searched 
 into; and for this reason. Flora liked 
 Jocelyn. His favourable opinion of her 
 looks, was another claim upon her childish 
 affect ion. 
 
 Poor Flora, from an early developed 
 taste, was prematurely awake to the im- 
 pressions of human beauty ; and as she 
 felt the exquisite pleasure which symmetry 
 and grace can bestow upon^ those who 
 behold them, it was natural she should 
 wish to have the power in her own person 
 of so delighting others. At any rate, since 
 she thirsted to be an object of affection, 
 and thought every one handsome that she 
 loved, she could not believe it possible
 
 COMING OUT. 179 
 
 that she was very warmly regarded, when 
 she heard her outward form contumeii- 
 ousJy spoken of, by those who drew upon 
 her for a grateful return to their boasted 
 attachment. Mr. Hastings proved his 
 sincerity, by never breathing a word which 
 could turn either her own attention, or 
 that of another, to any defect or deficiency 
 in her which she could not mend. So 
 far, does the one great rule extend, of 
 ** doing unto others, as we would they 
 should do unto us!** No wonder Flora 
 should idolize Mr. Hastings. His me- 
 mory, therefore, did not perish between 
 her and Alicia. 
 
 The month of June wore out. Colonel 
 and Mrs. Barry returned from their ex- 
 cursion, in a transport of expectation. 
 An English family was at the Black Rock, 
 who, being a shade lower in society than 
 Lady Donnington, spoke of Mr. Marcus 
 Barry as a perfect star in the London 
 world of fashion. Marcus himself had 
 written immediately after Signer War- 
 bellino's performance at his house, and 
 the result seemed, that before another 
 I 6
 
 180 COMING OUT. 
 
 two months were over, there would be a 
 Lady Sarah, or a Lady Georgina Barry. 
 Upon the strength of such a certainty, 
 Mrs. Barry directly returned to order 
 dancing dresses, and walking dresses 
 for Alicia, that she might be prepared to 
 obey a summons, however sudden, to 
 join her new sister at Cheltenham, or by 
 the sea side. 
 
 These joyful preparations came quickly 
 to a stop, by the arrival of two letters 
 from London. One of them was addressed 
 to Colonel Barry in such a scrawling hand, 
 that it was thrown aside until the other 
 had been opened. The latter proved to 
 be from the mercantile gentleman to 
 whom the products of Mrs. Barry's West 
 India estates were yearly consigned, and 
 upon whom all bills in his son's favour 
 had hitherto been drawn, even after both 
 father and son had been told that no re- 
 ceipts were in hand, and that Mr. Owen- 
 son had no longer any securities to offer 
 for monies sought in the way of loan. 
 Mr. Owenson had himself advanced so 
 much, that he could advance no more ^ 
 U
 
 COMING OUT. 181 
 
 nay, he was then necessitated, from an 
 unexpected loss at sea, to put in his own 
 claim for repayment. 
 
 The exposition made in consequence, 
 of Colonel Barry's ruinous circumstances, 
 and the elaborate calculations given, were 
 too astounding for a weak intellect either 
 to follow or to admit. The Colonel pro- 
 fessed himself incapable of understanding 
 what Mr. Owenson could mean, for that 
 if his estates were, what all Jamaica could 
 testify, worth a hundred thousand pounds, 
 where could be the difficulty of finding 
 securities, since parcels of the estates 
 themselves, afforded sufficient security? 
 He felt persuaded, that Mr. Owenson 
 was either one of the most dishonest, or 
 the most blundering men of business 
 ima^nable. It was base, he said, in the 
 man who had been living for years out 
 of those estates, and who had been treated 
 so liberally as never to have his accounts 
 enquired into, (though the fellow made 
 a constant farce of begging it,) it was 
 base in such a person to turn short upon 
 his employer, with the incredible assur-
 
 182 COMING OUT. 
 
 ance, that he could not raise any more 
 money ! Why had he not said this before ? 
 Why had he not said it to Marcus, who 
 would of course have drawn in ? 
 
 Colonel Barry quite forgot that Mn 
 Owenson had, in everv one of his letters 
 for the last three years, enforced the ne- 
 cessity of retrenchment instead of in- 
 creased expenditure; had warnedhim, that 
 the estates were alarmingly falling off in 
 their returns; and at every fresh mortgage 
 had shown him how surely his remain- 
 ing income must be swallowed up by the 
 yearly interest. He would not take time 
 to suppose the fact, that Marcus had lis- 
 tened to Mr. Owenson, as he (the Colonel) 
 had read the agent's letters, with a care- 
 less determination of thinking him either 
 a croaker or a niggard, therefore not to be 
 regarded. 
 
 What, how^ever, was to be done ? — 
 Money must be had somehow ; nothing 
 could go on without it. The Colonel 
 looked at his wife, when asking the ques- 
 tion. His own capacity had reached its 
 limit; having gone as far as to the decision
 
 COMING out* 18S 
 
 that Mr. Owenson was either a rogue or 
 a fool, and that nothing was vitally wrong 
 in his West India affairs. How to extract 
 any substantial benefit to himself out of 
 this conviction he knew not. 
 
 Mrs. Barry suggested that he should 
 instantly cross over to England, and, with 
 the assistance of Marcus, sJiew up the dis- 
 honesty of Mr. Owenson, and take the 
 concern out of his hands. With a new 
 agent a new arrangement might be made, 
 and a suitable sum of money would, of 
 course, be readily advanced by such a 
 person. Mrs. Barry always heard that 
 nothing was more coveted than these 
 agencies, for that the men regularly made 
 their fortune. She did not understand 
 how they did it, but since it was so, an 
 agent, of course, would be found at a mo^ 
 ment's warning. At all events, a grand 
 push must be made this very year, if the 
 Colonel hoped to see his son married to 
 a daughter of Lord Harlech, and his 
 daughter to a Duke. Marcus must be 
 supplied, until his marriage with Lady 
 Sarah should enable him to raise money
 
 184 COMING OUT. 
 
 for himself; and Alicia must have the 
 means of appearing with the bride in the 
 very best style, or even her beauty would 
 go for nothing. 
 
 Mrs. Barry allowed, that her Dublin 
 tradespeople had been vexatiously pressing 
 of late for the settlement of their last two 
 years' bills. She thought, however, it was 
 possible to make them wait ; but money 
 she must have at command, as Alicia, 
 besides things furnished on credit, would 
 require scores of such expensive trifles as 
 ai'e every day starting up, and from the 
 earliest possession of which, a young per- 
 son principally obtains the stamp of ele- 
 gance. In short, Mrs. Barry complacently 
 concluded, that if they might weather 
 through only six months longer, they 
 would be repaid by the exaltation of both 
 their children, and have the delightful 
 consciousness of having done their duty 
 thoroughly. 
 
 With this civility from her conscience, 
 this excellent mother recommended 
 opening her second letter. To her sur- 
 prise, it was found to be from Marcus,
 
 COMING OUT. 185 
 
 whose scrawl upon the cover w^as certainly 
 not to be recognized. 
 
 There were not many lines in this 
 momentous epistle, but infinitely too much 
 matter. It began with an abrupt notifica- 
 tion of Lady Sarah Mostyn's clandestine 
 marriage ; incoherently stated that he was 
 ruined, therefore going immediately after 
 General Granby to India. He neither 
 told what sort of ruin he had incurred, 
 nor assigned any possible cause for Lady 
 Sarah's deceptive conduct, nor named th« 
 period of his proposed departure ; nor 
 even mentioned General Granby's last 
 offer of friendship and patronage : all 
 was left to the imagination of his pa- 
 rents. 
 
 Mrs. Barry chose to suppose, that he 
 meant to say his peace was ruined, and 
 his honour so wounded by Lady Sarah's 
 duplicity, that he could not remain in the 
 same country with her. The astonished 
 Colonel knew not what to think. He had 
 a confused notion, that Marcus's pecu- 
 niary affairs were in a worse condition 
 than his feelings j and that the total stop-
 
 186 COMING OUT. 
 
 page of current cash from that tricking 
 fellow, Mr. Owenson, was the real cause 
 of this extraordinary resolution to go to 
 India, At any rate, one bubble was burst; 
 yet, infatuated with the wish of trying 
 another, this unwise father roused him- 
 self to the direful necessity of taking an 
 immensity of trouble, of visiting London 
 directly, to argue his son out of his boy- 
 ish despair ; of obliging Mr. Owenson to 
 come down with a handsome sum -, of 
 seeing Lady Donnington, and engaging 
 her, if possible, to bring out Alicia ; for 
 to bring out Alicia themselves with any 
 effect, in the coming winter, was next to 
 impossible, as the lease of their DubHn 
 house would end just after Christmas, 
 and where were they to find money for 
 renewing it, or taking another ? 
 
 Mrs. Barry's fortitude had supported 
 her very respectably through the first 
 direful disappointment, and all the suc- 
 cessive discussions, until these brought 
 her to the fatal conclusion that she was not 
 to go to Dublin, and give great assem- 
 blies with, or without her daughter. At
 
 COMING OUT. 187 
 
 such a finale, she uttered a doleful cry, 
 and fell back in an hysteric fit. 
 
 Hitherto this scene had been without 
 witnesses ; but at her mother's sobbing 
 voice, Alicia, who chanced to be passing 
 the door of the room, hurried in, and 
 received the disconsolate mourner upon 
 her bosom. In answer to her agitated 
 enquiries, Colonel Barry abruptly ex- 
 claimed, that " her brother had been 
 jilted by a good-for-nothing young wo- 
 man ; and that, in a fit of childish despair, 
 he was going to ruin all his prospects, 
 by exchanging for India ; and that, of 
 course, her mother was in great grief at 
 such folly, particularly as it would pre- 
 vent them from bringing her out that 
 season, as they had intended." Colonel 
 Barry cared not to avow the humiliating 
 addition of pecuniary embarrassment, to 
 this bitter vexation; and as he said nothing 
 on the subject of money, even Mrs. 
 Barry's hysterics respected his caution ; 
 uttering no raving whatever, that could 
 lead her unworldly child to suspect she
 
 188 COMING OUT. 
 
 was not grieving purely for her son's 
 wounded affections. 
 
 Alicia was too suddenly assaulted by 
 this unexpected scene, to be capable of 
 much exertion of thought. She felt be- 
 wildered as well as afflicted ; and though 
 slie saw her mother weeping profusely, 
 was unable to shed tears, or to express 
 her deep concern for her brother, other- 
 wise than by paleness and trembling. She 
 was totally ignorant of the relative ad- 
 vantages, or disadvantages, of a young 
 man's situation in different regiments; 
 she was not told of the family involve- 
 ments ; and she naturally took upon trust 
 every thing her father said on the subject 
 of his son's removal to another land ; 
 indeed, she shrunk from distant India with 
 affectionate horror. No wonder, then, that 
 she should join her voice to her mother's, 
 when the latter was sufficiently recovered 
 to advise her husband's immediate de- 
 parture for England, praying him to call 
 upon the powerful influence of Lady 
 Donnington, if a father's authority failed. 
 
 Colonel Barry suggested the probabi-
 
 COMING OUT. 189 
 
 lity of their having lost Lady Donning- 
 ton, as well as Lady Sarah Mostyn ; as 
 the young lady's aunt, she might deem it 
 right to drop all connection with the 
 family she had misled so grossly. 
 
 Alicia, with youthful warmth, repelled 
 «uch an imagination, for the honour of 
 human nature. ** If Lady Sarah had 
 really encouraged her brother. Lady 
 Donnington might grieve over such con- 
 duct, but would not surely sanction it 
 Indeed, as the marriage was a clandestine 
 one, it could not be approved by any of 
 her near kindred." 
 
 This inference was more convincing 
 than Ahcia's first argument; and upon 
 the strength of it, the Colonel agreed to 
 go directly to England ; secretly hoping, 
 that if he could stop Marcus without 
 other interference, he might find Lady 
 Donnington amiably disposed to indem- 
 nify him for his disappointment from 
 Lady Sarah, by accepting the charge of 
 Miss Barry's beauty for the next sea-side 
 season, or the later town season. 
 
 By the time her mother's childish mind
 
 190 COMING OUT. 
 
 had caught at some gilded hope con- 
 nected with the idea of Lady Georgina 
 Carey, and her tongue was volubly enu- 
 merating her son's many pretensions to a 
 distinguished fortune, Alicia's oppressed 
 feelings gave way; and deeply commi- 
 serating her brother, while fearing that 
 he would indeed remove to far-off India, 
 she sat down for the first time since en- 
 tering the room, and melted into noise- 
 less tears. 
 
 Mrs. Barry took fright at seeing her 
 long-continued emotion ; and alarmed 
 lest any one should be enabled to guess 
 at what had befallen them, until they 
 could see how things would settle, and 
 hoiiD they had best be represented ; she 
 exhorted her to dry her eyes, and get 
 over this indiscreet grief^ since it was 
 incumbent on them to keep the humili- 
 ating story of Marcus's disappointment 
 from every body, until they might be able 
 to put a tolerable face upon it; so nei- 
 ther Flora nor Mrs. Brudenell must be 
 allowed to see any .thing unusual in 
 Alicia's looks or manner.
 
 COMING OUT. 191 
 
 It was long before Alicia could be 
 made to comprehend where the disgrace 
 lay, if not with the heartless jilt, when 
 a man's honest affections were deceived ; 
 and longer ere she saw the necessity of 
 waging a fruitless war with nature, merely 
 that she might escape ridicule from per- 
 sons who deemed any natural sympathy 
 ridiculous. She remembered, indeed, 
 that Rose M^'Manus had often recom- 
 mended the cultivation of cheerfulness 
 for the sake of our associates, and as a 
 positive duty ; but then Rose had taught 
 her, that it must be a real, not pretended 
 cheerfulness, produced by the heart's 
 submission ; a healthful colour, not a 
 mask of paint. Here she was enjoined to 
 disguise her present feelings, merely for 
 the purpose of being able to deny their 
 existence at a future day, if needful ; or 
 to prevent the whole truth of their situ- 
 ation being conjectured. 
 
 Alicia was not unprovided with argu- 
 ments to prove the pernicious conse- 
 quences of such a system for life; but 
 timid and irresolute, and deeply im-
 
 192 COMING OUT, 
 
 pressed with the duty of filial reverence, 
 she kept silence, and strove to obey her 
 mother's command, by stifling her grow- 
 ing tears. 
 
 Colonel Barry posted off to England : 
 Mrs. Barry unwillingly remained in Wa- 
 terford. The poor Colonel reached Lon- 
 don too late for stopping his son, but in 
 excellent time for being stopped himself. 
 
 After driving to his son's house, he 
 found it in the hands of its original 
 owner, who directly did himself the 
 honour of saying, that he had written by 
 the last Irish mail, to beg the favour of 
 Colonel Barry to settle the small account 
 for the payment of which he had been so 
 obliging as to pledge himself. Of course, 
 the letter had not arrived when the 
 Colonel left Castle Barry. The civil 
 claimant believed Mr. Barry was gone to 
 the Continent ; but having always con- 
 ducted himself in the most gentlemanly 
 style, it was impossible for any of his cre- 
 ditors to doubt that his family would 
 honour all his bills ; and that done, no 
 young man disappearing from the world
 
 COMING OUT. 193 
 
 of fashion would ever have left a higher 
 character behind him. 
 
 Colonel Barry was stunned by this ad- 
 dress, and by the shock of hearing that 
 his son was actually considered gone 
 from that world in which such ruinous 
 exertions had been made to fix him. His 
 consternation increased while succes- 
 sively hearing of first one tradesman's 
 letter, and then another, which this Mr. 
 A. or B. had been called upon to for- 
 ward, per post, to Castle Barry. It was 
 too evident that Marcus was overwhelmed 
 in debt ; and how could he be so, when 
 he had spent so large an allowance 
 yearly ? Nothing less than gambling or 
 some improper connection could account 
 for it. 
 
 Colonel Barry thought the last con- 
 jecture solved the problem both of his 
 son's delay in securing Lady Sarah 
 Mostyn, and of her indignant flight with 
 another : his vexation against Marcus 
 increased with this suspicion. In an un- 
 usual chafe of temper, he declared he 
 would not pay his son's debts ; that the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 COMING OUT. 
 
 tradesmen might wait till Mr. Barry came 
 into possession of the entailed property, 
 or till he paid them by instalments : for 
 his own part, he repeated, he would not 
 discharge any account except that which 
 he could not help doing; namely, that 
 for the lease and fitting up the young 
 Guardsman's house. 
 
 The owner of the deserted mansion was 
 not inclined to waste his breath in plead- 
 ing for others ; he began at once with the 
 items of his various accounts, and took 
 great merit to himself in offering to ac- 
 cept half the sum required for the three 
 years' lease on the condition of having it 
 given up to him at once, and so enabling 
 him to find another tenant immediately. 
 
 The Colonel was barely competent to 
 refer the settlement of their business to 
 his attorney : his own weak head was 
 well nigh overpowered by the sum total 
 of the bill for silk hangings, alabaster 
 figures, Scagliola slabs, &c., and by cer- 
 tain recollections of larger bills lefl be- 
 hind him in Ireland ; but the very 
 shallowness of his brain prevented the
 
 COMING OUT. 195 
 
 conviction of ruin from being deep ; so, 
 after sitting a full quarter of an hour in 
 what Mr. A. or B. called a daze, which 
 was literally stupifying over a mental 
 chaos, he got up, and, giving his address 
 at a neighbouring hotel, stepped back 
 into the hackney-coach that had brought 
 him, his portmanteau,r and servant ; and 
 telling the bowing, yet doubting creditor, 
 that he should hear from him the next 
 morning, after having seen his agent, 
 drove off to the city. 
 
 While Colonel Barry was disputing 
 with the house-agent, his valet had been 
 getting at some information about his 
 young master, from one of his deposed 
 domestics. He learned from this gos- 
 siping fellow, that Mr. Barry was said 
 to have been completely Immhugged by 
 Lady Sarah Mostyn, and had gone in his 
 first fit of desperate vexation to one of 
 the Clubs, where he had lost 2000/. or 
 3000/. ; and that, knowing how many 
 other claims were upon him, though of a 
 different nature, he had wisely slipped his 
 collar, and walked off. 
 
 K 2
 
 196 COMING OUT. 
 
 " What ! with a debt of honour un- 
 paid ?'' 
 
 ** O no ! Mr. Barry's honour was un- 
 impeachable : he had raised the money 
 somehow before he went." 
 
 Colonel Barry breathed again when he 
 was assured that his son had only left 
 tradespeople and servants hopeless of 
 payment, while satisfying an unprincipled 
 gamester. But w^here was Marcus ? This 
 the valet could not answer ; and ordering 
 
 his coachman to drive to Messrs. — r , 
 
 the Colonel proceeded to learn the fate 
 of his prodigal. He found then, that 
 what had appeared at first a rash and 
 wilful act in his son, was in fact the only 
 prudent thing possible to him ; and had 
 
 been recommended by Messrs. 
 
 after they heard the rumour of his loss at 
 rouge-et-noir. At that precise moment 
 they were able to offer him a very large 
 sum if he would exchange with an officer 
 now on leave from one of the regiments 
 gone out with General Granby to India ; 
 and as this proposal was made when the 
 young man was smarting under the mor-
 
 C03nNG OUT. 197 
 
 tification of Lady Sarah Mostyn's mar- 
 riage, and the positive assurance of Mr. 
 Owenson that he could neither raise more 
 money for him nor for his father, he had 
 at once accepted itj endeavouring to 
 gloss his real reasons over by pretending 
 to be now in earnest as a soldier, there- 
 fore desirous to see service, and to seize 
 the fine opening afforded him of quick 
 promotion by the powerful situation of 
 his military godfather. 
 
 Messrs. — — knew no further than 
 tha^. they had undertaken to get the ex- 
 change gazetted so quickly that Mr. 
 Bariy saw no reason why he should delay 
 his voyage a moment longer than was ne- 
 cessary. A fine Indiaman v/as just sailing 
 at the time ; Mr. Barry was gone in her, 
 with letters of credit to a very respec- 
 table amount upon a banker in Calcutta. 
 
 Messrs. did not insinuate that 
 
 they suspected he was in a hurry to 
 escape creditors he could not pay, and 
 whom he had begun to fear his father 
 would find it as impossible to satisfy. 
 K 3
 
 198 COMING OUT. 
 
 Colonel Barry scarcely knew whe- 
 ther to he glad or sorry at this account. 
 The disaster, however, was past remedy -, 
 the heiress was married, and his son was 
 deeply in c^ebt. What better plan could 
 be devised than this, of Marcus's exile for 
 a few years, while his father's estates 
 were coming round, and he meanwhile 
 in the way of wealth and honour ? — It 
 w^as a pity indeed that such a fine young 
 man should be removed from the London 
 world, and the chances of an ennobling 
 matrimonial connection, and that Mrs. 
 Barry and the Colonel should be so long 
 without the pleasure of hearing their ad- 
 mired son talk, and talk like Lord Lewis 
 Rivers himself. 
 
 But it was sui-prising how soon Colonel 
 Barry got reconciled to irremediable evils 
 merely from his constitutional incapabi- 
 lity of much thought or continuance of 
 depression. Although he fancied a sort 
 of enjoyment from distinctions for his 
 children, which made him pursue them 
 eagerly, any calamity to the persons them- 
 selves for whom he was striving, made
 
 COMING OUT. 199 
 
 but a slight impression upon his unstable 
 character. He now vented his concern in 
 a few common-place lamentations over 
 young men's hastiness ; hinting his own 
 readiness to have cleared his son's affairs, 
 had he only known of their disorder j and 
 making very light of every thing except 
 what he chose to call (yet not to think) 
 Marcus's folly in throv/ing up the Guards 
 for any staff appointment under the suns 
 of India. 
 
 Taking a civil leave of the gentlemen 
 to whose good-natured offices the young 
 spendthrift was perhaps to be indebted 
 for a retrieved character, the Colonel 
 retook possession of his hackney-coach, 
 and jolted on to the city. 
 
 At the city he arrived by the slow 
 stages of the Strand, Fleet-street, Lud- 
 gate-hill, &c. ; the usual procession of 
 coaches, carts, v/aggons, drays, and pa- 
 viours stopping up the way, and allowing 
 him ample time to chew the cud of sour 
 thoughts. Mr. Owenson was at home, 
 and in his counting-house. The interview 
 was far from agreeable. Mr. Owenson, 
 K 4
 
 200 COMING OUT. 
 
 too, had a letter for the Colonel in the 
 Irish mail ; and he hastened to repeat its 
 contents. arf j oj 
 
 So far from wishing to retain the 
 agency, Mr, Owenson was desirous of 
 resigning it: requesting Colonel Barry 
 would take steps for supplying his place 
 (as his own unforeseen loss would oblige 
 him to go for some years abroad), offer- 
 ing all his accounts for the scrutiny of 
 any gentleman appointed to succeed him^i 
 
 Nothing could be fairer ; nothing could^ 
 be more distinctly proved than Mr. Owen- 
 son proved, by various notes from Mr. 
 Barry, that he had pressed the subject of 
 West Indian failures upon the young 
 man with as much earnestness as their 
 relative situations admitted. The Colo- 
 nel might have been reconciled to his 
 agent from this exposition of his honesty, 
 had not the urgent wants of Mr. Owen- 
 son obliged him to require an immediate 
 settlement of the debt contracted to him- 
 self; and as he was too much in the 
 secret of the Colonel's insufficient credit 
 to accept bills from him at any date, there
 
 COMING OUT. 201 
 
 was no Other alternative than that of 
 raising money by a mortgage on Castle 
 BaiTy to the amount of half the property. 
 • The place was romantic as to scenery, 
 and remarkably comfortable for a resi- 
 dence ; but very little productive land 
 was attached to it, therefore its returns 
 wei'e barely adequate to pay the yearly 
 interest of the sum thus raised. Much 
 time, however, would be gained ; cer- 
 tain burthens would be lifted from the 
 ColonePs shoulders for the present ; and 
 for the future, Mr. Owenson strenuously 
 advised him, as the West India property 
 was not regularly entailed, to go himself 
 to Jamaica, and decide upon selling 
 part of it to clear the remainder. Mr. 
 Owenson had never disguised from his 
 employer that he thought his resident 
 agent abroad neither active nor judicious; 
 and he now warned the Colonel to pre- 
 pare for finding things in a much worse 
 state than he apprehended: yet urging 
 this as a stronger argument for their being 
 looked into. 
 
 Colonel Barry received this sensible 
 K 5
 
 20S COMING OUT. 
 
 advice very coldly. He deemed it in- 
 cumbent upon him to be high and distant 
 to a man who had used him so ill as to 
 be pressed by real misfortune at the mo- 
 ment in which he was pennyless through 
 his own wilful waste ; and who, forced by 
 his own affairs to act in a different country 
 for their re-establishment, could no other- 
 wise serve his early employer than by re- 
 commending an able successor. 
 
 This recommendation the Colonel de- 
 clined in the spirit of extraordinary pru- 
 dence ; inwardly extolling his own saga- 
 city, for taking timely alarm at such a 
 cunning show of friendship ; and telling 
 Mr. Owenson that he might depend upon 
 very soon hearing from his lawyer satis- 
 factorily, he bowed himself out of the 
 room. 
 
 In something more of woi'ldly know- 
 ledge Colonel Barry was his wife's supe- 
 rior. When he got into his hackney- 
 coach again, he entered it with the con- 
 viction that he must do something extra- 
 ordinary, if he hoped to escape a crash 
 and a crush of family consequence. To 
 
 20
 
 COMING OUT. 203 
 
 marry Alicia richly and greatly was now 
 a positive necessity ; to induce Lady 
 Donnington to save him the expense of 
 doing so, was an equal necessity; but 
 how to bring these desirable events 
 about ! 
 
 As the Colonel jolted along the crowd- 
 ed streets, he commenced and digested a 
 plan of consummate generalship : it was 
 to call upon Lady Donnington, and boldly 
 assume the merit or blame of his son's 
 transfer to India ; to affect great zeal for 
 the military character, and displeasure 
 of his son, for having sunk it in that of a 
 mere man of pleasure ; in short, to make 
 it appear as if the young man's exit had 
 been the consequence of his father's 
 prejudice rather than of his necessities. 
 Thus he v/ould preserve the reputation of 
 wealth (an important reputation when a 
 young lady was coming forward), stifle 
 any reports that might be circulating with 
 regard to Mr. Barry's debts, and leave 
 it doubtful whether he had not acted thus 
 from the desire of an active life for his 
 son, after his disappointment in love. 
 K 6
 
 204* COMING OUT. 
 
 Still infatuated with the same pernicious 
 expectations which had paved the way to 
 his son's ruin, this senseless father would 
 not see that he was once more casting 
 into the same lottery for another child. 
 A great throw, a great gain, or utter ruin, 
 was contemplated by him with a game- 
 ster's coolness : nothing short of these 
 seemed capable of satisfying this mighty 
 small mind. Not for a moment did he 
 turn his thoughts to immediate reduction 
 of family expenses, and an instant sur- 
 render of all ambitious views for his un- 
 conscious daughter. 
 
 Prepared to affect the tone of ease, 
 affluence, and soldierly cheerfulness, 
 therefore to hold very different language 
 from what he had done to his son's 
 agents. Colonel Barry quickly changed 
 his travelling dress at an hotel, and walked 
 to Lady Donnington's. 
 
 By a miracle, her Ladyship was at 
 home, and not in a crowd. At first she 
 was perfectly unconscious of having seen 
 the Colonel before; but as he was of 
 hardier nerve, or more opaque of sense
 
 COMING OUT. ^0^ 
 
 than his son, he persevered in recalling 
 the circumstances of Lady Donnington's 
 visit to his house, until she did remem- 
 ber it.} siom 'jii 
 
 The mbment she was brought to recall 
 that distant period, which was principally 
 brought about by the ColoneFs happy 
 quotation of her own lively remarks upon 
 his daughter's eyes, she uttered a pretty 
 cry of recollection ; and, instead of ask- 
 ing what the young lady had grown into, 
 or what was become of her brother, 
 turned upon her company with a second 
 edition of her former poignant comparisons 
 on the subject. bsimt^ 
 
 Every one was enchanted with Lady 
 Donnington's fanciful portrait; to the 
 fidelity of which Colonel Barry gave 
 smiling and bowing assent, for utterance 
 of so direct a falsehood was impossible : 
 the animated describer having forgotten 
 every peculiarity of colour, shape, or ex- 
 pression in the countenance of the lovely 
 original. 
 
 Colonel Barry was on tiptoe of expect- 
 ation, as he stated, with affected com-
 
 206 COMING OUT. 
 
 pbsure, that his Alicia was really come to 
 that very troublesome period when Mrs. 
 Barry must prepare for the fatigue of 
 going about with a young lady through 
 her first season of balls, and he for joining 
 the body of absentees (he concluded), if 
 his wife should take the whim of wishing 
 their daughter to see English society. ^ 
 Lady Donnington agreed with him in 
 abhorring the fatigue of taking young- 
 ladies about One or two male visitors 
 begged her to intercede with Colonel 
 Barry for London, that he might give 
 them a chance of seeing that bouquet of 
 jewels so admired by Lady Donnington. 
 The Colonel believed himself sure of his 
 point. Not at all : — without regarding 
 either request or remark, her Ladyship 
 began an earnest canvass for some pro- 
 jected party, in the discussion of which 
 minor concerns were at once sv/allowed 
 
 up. '^'frn :t 
 
 Something went wrong during this 
 business, for Lady Donnington looked 
 for a moment piqued and astonished ; 
 then repeated in a tone of irony, after
 
 COMING OUT. ^)7 
 
 each person's excuse, " And you, too, 
 going to Madame Kabitka's!" but quickly 
 recovering self-possession, when the last 
 denial was given, she burst into an immo- 
 derate fit of laughter, exclaiming, " O ! 
 the amusing mob she will have got to- 
 gether ! I hear the sweetly-civil simple- 
 ton issued her cards by book, and invited 
 all Grosvenor Square round, and all Port- 
 land Place long ; conceiving the people 
 af Portland Place civilized!" 
 
 This insolent sarcasm took effect: 
 three or four very young men protested 
 they would not go, to be shuffled up in 
 such a strange pack; and one untitled 
 woman, of a certain age, observed, that 
 it would be much better to wait and see 
 how the Polish Princess took, before girls 
 were committed by being seen at her as- 
 semblies : if they were not select, they 
 must be horrid. 
 
 Lady Donnington begged and prayed 
 Mrs. Wolsey would not stay away from 
 Madame Kabitka's. (" Princess Azor- 
 inski's," amended Lord Lewis Rivers, 
 between yawning and smiling.) She
 
 ^08 COMING OUT. 
 
 was dying to hear what the odd-looking 
 woman would give them by way of enter- 
 tainment; she supposed a dance of Polish 
 dwarfs. Had any body seen Princess 
 Kabitka ? She heard there was nothing 
 half so hideous in the world : a mouth 
 from ear to ear, — tin eyes, absolute tin 
 eyes,— and skin, a regular mustard co- 
 lour! 
 
 Nothing could be more imprudent 
 than this throwing down the gauntlet, 
 where so many were almost pledged to 
 take it up. A very young senator, who 
 had accepted an invitation to the party 
 given by the foreign lady, stepped for- 
 wai'd in defence of her. He confessed 
 that Lady Donnington was quite correct : 
 Princess Azorinski had the widest mouth, 
 the lightest grey eyes, and the horridest 
 skin possible ; but she had also the 
 whitest teeth, the most good-humoured 
 laugh, the gayest look with her eyes, and 
 the most amusing disregard of sorting 
 colours to her complexion ; in short, her 
 very ugliness was piquant, and her neg- 
 ligence entertaining. Lady Donnington 
 ^0 
 
 )
 
 COMING OUT. 209 
 
 instantly accused the speaker of being in 
 love with the Polish princess, and rallied 
 him either so well, or so unmercifully, 
 that he was first put to silence, and then 
 to flight. 
 
 Colonel Barry exerted himself with 
 parental solicitude to ingratiate himself 
 with Lady Donnington, by bestowing the 
 due portion of rhapsodical admiration 
 upon her Ladyship's sallies ; but all to no 
 effect. Admiration was nothing to Lady 
 Donnington, unless it bestowed power 
 over the powerful. The whole ordinary 
 population of London and Westminster 
 might have gazed after, and lauded her, 
 without exciting one grateful or gratified 
 feeling in her selfish heart. Lady Don- 
 nington's world consisted solely of a few 
 inhabitants residing near the two parks. 
 
 She therefore scarcely heard Colonel 
 Barry announce his intention of returning 
 directly to Ireland ; but, just catching 
 the name of his son, exclaimed, " By the 
 way, what has become of Mr. Barry ? Do 
 tell him to go, by all means, to Madame 
 Kabitka's.''
 
 210 COMING OUT. 
 
 " How perverse you are, Lady Don- 
 nington I*' exclaimed Lord Lewis Rivers : 
 ** you might as well call me Mr, Sedan. 
 Kabitka is a Russian coach, or cart, or 
 some such vehicle.'^ 
 
 In the general laugh which followed 
 this correction, the Colonel found an op- 
 portunity of saying what he had purposed 
 concerning his son. He observed, with 
 many deprecatory smiles and looks of 
 homage, that, being an old soldier, he 
 believed there was more danger for a 
 young man in such a delightful circle as 
 the one now surrounding him than in afield 
 of battle : Lady Donnington and the rest 
 of the ladies present must pardon him for 
 saying so. He then, with a loftier tone, 
 briefly stated his opinion of a young 
 man's duty, afler having chose?i to enter 
 the army, when he ought, as an only son, 
 to have remained at large ; showing why 
 he had accepted General Granby's offer 
 of a staff appointment for his son, and 
 removed him to actual service, instead of 
 letting him remain a mere St. James's- 
 street soldier. 
 
 i
 
 COMING OUT. 211 
 
 So far the Colonel's speech was clear 
 and convincing ; but when he endea- 
 voured to say that his son and he had 
 missed each other in the Irish Channel, 
 and that he must hasten back to see the 
 young man off, the deception he was 
 practising to prevent the discovery of 
 Marcus's real flight from an arrest, would 
 have been visible to every person present, 
 had any one cared enough for father or 
 son to give either a second thought. 
 
 Lady Donnington exclaimed in an ac- 
 cent of complete indifference at the 
 Colonel's hard-heartedness, in sending his 
 son to die of cholera morbus just when 
 town was pleasantest! The gallant Colonel 
 smilingly declared he was proof against 
 her Ladyship's ingenious attempt at 
 frightening him : all he could say w^as, 
 that if ball or climate had its billet for 
 Mai'cus, he must bow to fate, and con- 
 clude it was decreed that Lady Don- 
 nington's favourite (so he dexterously de- 
 nominated Alicia) should be an heiress. 
 
 Necessity is said to sharpen the wit : 
 Colonel Barry certainly proved the truth
 
 212 COMING OUT. 
 
 of this axiom. His last remark wa& not 
 powerless ; he saw by the faces of those 
 near him, that his daughter was already 
 set down for a fortune as well as a beauty. 
 
 Lady Donnington continued to rail at 
 his cruelty to his son, << Indeed 1 am 
 quite vexed with you, Colonel Barry. 
 Mr. Barry was so good natured ! — I 
 could always depend upon him. A cha- 
 racter much too high to bestow upon you, 
 Lord Lewis." 
 
 " A character I should most particu- 
 larly detest," returned his Lordship with 
 his usual half-insolent indifference. " I 
 trust the fates have not inflicted upon me 
 any officious personage in the shape of a 
 friend, who will ever say I fuss about 
 handing women to their carriages, holding 
 their shawls, toadying their immense heap 
 of bracelets and rings, kc. Sec. Once for 
 all, Lady Donnington, I beg to assure 
 you, that I hold all such proceedings in 
 abhorrence ; and if I were not distract- 
 edly in love with you (which I tell you 
 for the nine millionth time, without the 
 least effect) I would not endure the mon-
 
 COMING OUT. 213 
 
 strous annoyance of seeing other fellows 
 so very exceedingly bored.'* 
 
 Lady Donnington received this flatter, 
 ing avowal as the speaker expected, with 
 a more flattering smile, repeating " absurd 
 creature I" more than once, while motion- 
 ing to him to ring the bell. 
 
 Lord Lewis Rivers, desiring another 
 young man to do it, remained lolling upon 
 a sofa, with an air of perfect privilege. 
 
 Lady Donnington choosing to under- 
 stand that Colonel Barry was going, bade 
 him good morning, without further refer- 
 ence to Mr. Barry or his beautiful sister ; 
 sending him away inwardly convinced 
 that the fashionable spirit of indifierence 
 is excellently pleasant, until a man's own 
 interests are in question. 
 
 Although partially disappointed. Colo- 
 nel Barry fancied he had succeeded in 
 exciting curiosity about his daughter, ami 
 in establishing a respectable reason for 
 his son's transfer to India. Lady Don- 
 nington's total silence upon the subject 
 of her niece's marriage, flattered him into 
 believing it was preserved in compliment
 
 ^14} COMING OUT. 
 
 to his feelings ; and that she thus tacitly 
 admitted the public fact of Lady Sarah's 
 dishonourable conduct. How would he 
 have been humbled could he have heard 
 the few short sentences after his de- 
 parture, in which Lord Lewis Rivers 
 summed up the private history of Lady 
 Donnington's L'ish friend, as he called 
 Marcus Barry, to say nothing of the 
 heartless carelessness with which Lady 
 Donnington, after repeating more than 
 once, " You shall not run the poor man 
 down !" made up a gay party for Rich- 
 mond, ^^^f hmier 
 It was a full fortnight from the time of 
 his leaving L^eland, before Colonel Barry, 
 even with the assistance of an expert 
 lawyer, and a new agent, more specious 
 than solid, could effect the changes which 
 were necessary ere he could return hom^. 
 The Park-lane house -letter was profess- 
 edly obsequious, but shrewdly watchful ; 
 and the Colonel had no rest either from 
 him, or from the importunities of his son's 
 desperate creditors, until he had wholly 
 satisfied the first, and, for family charac-
 
 COMING OUT. 215 
 
 ter's sake, pacified the latter, by assur- 
 ances that he would continue his usual 
 liberal allowance to his son, exhorting 
 him to liquidate their claims by instal- 
 ments. Further than this the wary 
 father refused to go ; or rather his lawyer 
 refused for him. 
 
 Colonel Barry left London under a 
 disagreeable feeling of disappointment. 
 He had not found Mr. Owenson either 
 a knave or a fool ; he had only been able 
 to raise seven thousand pounds, and he 
 had been obliged to pay ^ve out of that ; 
 he had not heard his son spoken of in the 
 terms he expected at Donnington House ; 
 and, though Lady Donnington had re- 
 ceived him with distinguishing kindness^ 
 he confessed that it was a surprise to him 
 to find, when calling upon her a few days 
 afterwards, that she was gone out of town 
 for the whole remainder of the year. 
 
 In spite of self-delusion, it was too 
 evident that he and Mrs. Barry must dis- 
 miss every expectation which depended 
 upon this British star of fashion, and set 
 themsislves in good earnest about the
 
 Sl6 COMING OUT. 
 
 work of bringing Alicia forward, and 
 marrying her to the first great fortune 
 that might propose for her. That task 
 achieved, the Colonel might come to a 
 private composition with the people to 
 whom he owed money ; perhaps put his 
 estates in trust for them (as many noble- 
 men were obliged to do after a few years 
 free living), and so live awhile upon an 
 allowance, either on the Continent, or 
 with their married daughter. To Marcus 
 no regular income could now be granted ; 
 a remittance now and then must suffice, 
 especially as he was too distant for any 
 report of his inferior stile of living reach- 
 ing England. In India he would be sure 
 to make money, or at least to live,. as 
 the Colonel understood all East Indians 
 did, magnificently without it: — at any 
 rate he was out of the way, and must, for 
 a time, be kept out of mind. By such 
 accommodating reflections, Colonel Bar- 
 ry's spirits were perfectly restored before 
 he reached his home ; so that when he 
 entered his family circle, no creature
 
 COMING OUT. 217 
 
 €Oii]d have suspected that he was a dis- 
 appointed and nearly ruined man. 
 
 With much that had surprised and per- 
 plexed him Mrs. Barry was aheady in- 
 formed by letter, and she might have been 
 expected to look a little blank as well as 
 himself, were it not for her childish habit 
 of expecting improbabilities. Had he 
 told her that the winds had driven Marcus 
 back ; that all his debts were paid, or his 
 creditors dead ; that Lady Sarah Mostyn*s 
 marriage was discovered to be a stage- 
 trick, and her Ladyship going to be- 
 stow her hand upon their son in very 
 deed; that their Jamaica estates were 
 returning ten thousand a year when 
 Mr. Owenson persisted in saying they no 
 longer produced as many hundreds, Mrs. 
 Barry would have credited it at the in- 
 stant ; for even romance of heart is not 
 half so credulous as weakness of mind. 
 
 One or two female neighbours being 
 present, Colonel and Mrs. Barry met with 
 that well-bred indifference, which after 
 any length of separation between the 
 nearest connections, on their return under 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 ^18 tOMING OUT. 
 
 any circumstances, happily prevents what 
 are denominated scenes from disturb- 
 ing the calm or sparkling current of pre- 
 sent society. " How do you do, my 
 dear? —How are you. Ally?— Well, Flo ! 
 — Ah, Scamper !" addressed to each 
 individual of his family, with a shake 
 of the hand for the human beings, and a 
 pat for the four-footed companion, were 
 all the testimonials of Colonel Barry's 
 emotion. He whispered down Flora's 
 eager questioning about her brother, and 
 turned so carelessly from the deeper 
 enquiry of Alicia's lifted eyes, that, 
 believing she was to hear something 
 consolatory on that subject, when their 
 visitors should go, the latter renewed her 
 amiable yet timid attempts at promoting 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 All that was known to Alicia of Mar- 
 cus's situation was what she had learned 
 from her parents in the first moments of 
 their painful surprise, and since from her 
 mother quoting the Colonel's letters. 
 She believed her father much displeased, 
 and greatly disappointed that he had not
 
 COMING OUT. 219 
 
 seen his son. What then was her 
 amazement when she heard the Colonel 
 volunteering the information of her bro- 
 ther's departure for India ; describing it 
 as an act dictated by himself on account 
 of the brilliant prospects it held out to an 
 ardent young soldier with his warmest 
 friend at the head of the military esta- 
 blishment there : in short, colouring the 
 whole affair as it seemed most advan- 
 tageous to their family credit, and not 
 inartfully hinting at the exceeding ill 
 usage of a certain young lady of high 
 rank, which made it doubly the Colonel's 
 duty to get his son into scenes Hkely to 
 banish useless regrets. 
 
 During this fi'ank harangue, Colonel 
 Barry managed to introduce parts of his 
 single visit to Donnington House, as if 
 adverting to different visits, by which 
 means he established the notion he wished 
 to impress upon his hearers, namely, that 
 his son had been encouraged by Lady 
 Sarah Mostyn's relations, though ill-used 
 by herself; otherwise they would not 
 L 2
 
 2^0 COMING OUT. 
 
 'qu to Q'gnndo imhhe ahsffiB^ptLic yo; 
 
 have ^paA«^^»?n%%fefeM?-nR^ 
 
 iather. ' .. "^-f-,,^!,/^ ^^r^^ 
 
 .>^r) Colonel Barry had found out, during 
 his sojourn in London, that the distinc- 
 tion coveted by men of doubtful degree, 
 next to marrying a woman of rank,_ \yas 
 that of being jilted by one ; m itr^i^p.ta- 
 blishes the individual in a certain degree 
 of fashion. He was, therefore, no longer 
 disinclined to let it be whispered that 
 Mr. Barry was the person chosen. ^^or 
 Lady Sarah by Lord Harlech and Lady 
 Donnington; Sir Lionel Collitoijii.j^her 
 own election. ,, ,^ j/ 
 
 ^^i Seeing his stratagem successful, by the 
 remarks which it elicited from his cre- 
 dulous neighbours, the Colonel's spirits 
 rose to their usual pitch -, and JVJj's. 
 Barry listened so complacently to good- 
 natured predictions of her son turning 
 out a second Duke of Wellington, that 
 Alicia confidently expected to hear some 
 comforting particulars concerning her 
 brother when their visitors took leave. 
 
 They were no sooner gone, than she 
 expressed this hope, together with her
 
 COMING OUT. 221 
 
 joy at her father's evident change of opi- 
 nion on the subject of Marcus's exchange. 
 The Colonel's answer astonished her 
 afresh. He explained ; — Mrs. Barry ex- 
 plained: — reasons were urged why one 
 thing was said to their neighbours, and 
 another amongst themselves. " Appear- 
 ances to the world — proper conceal- 
 ments — indispensable evasions — false- 
 hoods that were not falsehoods — praise- 
 worthy discretion t- commendable anxiety 
 for family honour :" — these, and many 
 other such phrases, were woven into their 
 joint lecture upon expediency. In short, 
 the whole ground-work of worldly policy 
 was displayed before their unpractised 
 child, teaching her that truth is not a 
 fixed anchorage for human confidence, 
 but a shifting sand, removable at the will 
 of each individual for his own profit and 
 another's loss. 
 
 Alicia was confounded: her lips fal- 
 tered, but her heart did not ; and, for the 
 first time in her life, she ventured to 
 make a firm protest against such doc- 
 trines. Mrs. Barry laughed, and called 
 L 3
 
 222 COMING OUT. 
 
 her " dear foolish chatterer!" The 
 Colonel, with equal hardiness of 
 good humour, added his *' Ah! you'll 
 know better some time ;'* and, giving 
 her a kiss, bade her follow Flora out 
 of the room. Something like serious 
 consideration of their circumstances took 
 place between Colonel and Mrs. Barry 
 when they were thus left together. The 
 Colonel had but 2000/. out of the seven 
 for which he had partly mortgaged Cas- 
 tle Barry, wlicrewith to pay certain 
 importunate creditors, and to defray the 
 current expenses of the ensuing six 
 months: he was, however, persuaded, 
 that before that year ended, his new 
 agent would have put order into his 
 affairs here, and have got more money 
 for him from his agent in Jamaica. 
 The question then was, as Alicia would 
 not be eighteen before the spring of the 
 next year, would it not be as well to 
 defer bringing her out till after that 
 usual period of bringing out young 
 ladies. 
 
 Ere Mrs. Barry answered this question. 
 
 I
 
 COMING OUT. M$ 
 
 she interrogated her husband again and 
 again on the hopeless subject of Lady 
 Donnington. The Colonel professed sin- 
 cerely to believe it a hopeless hope : 
 but, like many other weak, vain persons, 
 unwilHng to confess the extent of a mor- 
 tification, even to their second selfi 
 modified and diluted his account of 
 Lady Donnington's indifference so much, 
 that his lady felt sure he must have 
 missed some excellent opening for se- 
 curing her friendship for Alicia. She 
 could not, however, refuse to admit the 
 wisdom of keeping their girl back for a 
 few months longer. 
 
 At this express juncture, the death of 
 the Colonel's only near relative, an old 
 man who lefl them nothing, afforded an 
 excellent plea for not taking her to any 
 fashionable summer resort; of course 
 they must all go into mourning, a dress 
 incompatible with handsome ball or 
 promenade costumes ; so that any sen- 
 sible person would see how impossible 
 it was for them to bring a daughter out 
 when obliged to dress her so unbecom- 
 L 4
 
 2^4 COMING OUT. 
 
 ingly r they might themselves, of cours^ 
 take a little quiet pleasure meanwhile. 
 Alicia could remain at home as formerly, 
 during the six weeks of black silk and 
 crape ; and after that, if a ball or twa 
 were given at any first rate houses, ten 
 or twenty miles off, she might be indulged 
 in going to one, by way of rehearsing her 
 beauty. To have some rumour of that 
 get abroad, would rather be of use than 
 otherwise. 
 
 Mrs. Barry thought, that taking her to 
 the English metropolis would be a surer 
 game than looking out for another house 
 in Dublin : — that however would be for 
 after consideration. This plan gave time 
 for Colonel Barry's new agent to force 
 an income out of the West India pro- 
 perty for a year or two at least, and so 
 provide them with the means of Ahcia's 
 splendid exhibition early next season. 
 
 In truth, Mrs. Barry showed an un- 
 common degree of cleverness in mar- 
 shalling her own and her husband's move- 
 ments for their especial recreation and 
 their daughter's aggrandizement. Poor
 
 COMING OUT. ^^ 
 
 Marcus gone to India, was gone to obli- 
 vion; ^'hors de comhat^^^ as the Colonel 
 flippantly said, " a foolish boy!" — but, 
 satisfied that upon some hundreds in his 
 pocket, and the gold-teeming ground of 
 India, he could live very well until it 
 might suit his father to replenish his 
 purse, he saw no use in vexing his wife 
 and himself by more discussion of .his 
 concerns. '<" t^'s 
 
 After this consultation, therefore, 
 back rushed Colonel and Mrs. Barry into 
 the frothy stream of frivolous pleasures. 
 Present demands upon the Colonel were 
 stopped by payments in part ; and pre- 
 sent enjoyments insured by a certain 
 proportion of money in hand. They 
 went hither and thither ; leaving Alicia 
 under the surveillance of Mrs. Bru- 
 deneil ; lamenting, in every place, the 
 death of old Mr. Barry, which rendered 
 change of scene necessary for the 
 Colonel's spirits, but made it impossible 
 for them, with any propriety, to bring 
 their daughter regulaxiy out for some 
 months to come, ri-g^fi gh^idgUBfa iVdiS 
 L 5
 
 226 COMING 001'. 
 
 A falser pair than Colonel and Mrs. 
 Barry it is clear never existed ; yet they 
 had not been so originally : they had 
 merely been wanting in the principle of 
 truth : occasion found them wanting, and 
 expediency turned them into menteurs, 
 
 Alicia herself was very imperfectly 
 aware of this degrading habit of her pa- 
 rents ; nay, it was so contmually exer- 
 cised upon herself, that it cheated hei 
 even more than o«thers. Mrs. Barry was 
 instinctively acquainted with all the sub- 
 jects upon which her daughter and her- 
 self would differ in principle, and there- 
 fore avoided them. She disliked conten- 
 tion, and she knew nothing of reasoning : 
 she was assured that she was doing her duty 
 as a mother ; consequently, she treated 
 Alicia as she would have humoured a baby, 
 often silencing an anxious yet respectful 
 remonstrance by a direct falsehood or a 
 pitiful prevarication. 
 
 As Alicia's sorrow at her brother's de- 
 parture was sincere, and for some time 
 poignant, she felt little inclination for any 
 amusements beyond those afforded by the
 
 COMING OUTo ^7 
 
 wild grounds of Castle Barry, and the va- 
 luable old library purchased by her father 
 along with the house. In this rarely-used 
 room she sometimes read or thought her- 
 self into fits of melancholy : for certain vo- 
 lumes there, were to her the spirits of 
 absent friends 5 or rather like their voices, 
 whispering back days and hours to her 
 heart, which she could not recall without 
 youth's passionate sorrow that those days 
 were over. 
 
 It was not, however, of one person that 
 Alicia thought ; it was of several : of all 
 that had sat with her under the huge 
 walnut-tree at Mount Pleasant, or rowed 
 her upon the lake, or roamed with her 
 over the open country beyond. It was 
 under the painful impression, that from 
 some of these she was parted for ever. 
 She fancied Mr. M'^Manus would not 
 live to return from Brazil ; and she 
 thought that Jocelyn Hastings's complete 
 indifference, which his neglect manifested, 
 would prove little less than a sort of deatli 
 in him. She almost believed, that, so 
 changed, she did not desire to see him 
 L 6
 
 S28 COMING OUT. 
 
 again. And as for her brother, gone 
 to a dangerous climate, to a country 
 engaged in war, with a wounded heart, 
 and an accusing one too (for she sup- 
 posed him awaking to a late sense of 
 filial obligation), she found there were 
 few chances of his preservation. 
 
 Only upon the idea of Mrs. Beresford, 
 her dearly-remembered Rose M*Manus, 
 could she rest one joyful expectation. 
 Upon her, however, expectation did rest ; 
 and when the recollection of other beloved 
 objects grew into pain, Alicia would 
 rouse the fond imagination of youth, 
 until sadness melted away into gratitude 
 and hope. 
 
 Then it was she could expand into 
 sweet gaiety, and, sheltered from the in- 
 trusion of visitors by her parents' absence 
 from Castle Barry, would pass from one 
 out-of-door employment to another ; ban- 
 queting on the open air, on the sight of 
 green or blooming things, and building 
 short-lived bowers of roses and jessamine 
 for some Jele of the instant, given to her 
 sister. Flora was every day becoming
 
 COMING OUT. ^9 
 
 more dear to her ; for though as yet only 
 entering her thirteenth year, the forward- 
 ness of her mind, and the intensity of her 
 feeUngs, made her capable of a much 
 wider sympathy than many young women 
 of twenty. 
 
 While Mrs. Brudenell sat in a summer- 
 house absorbed by the important task of 
 stringing tiny beads into mosaic bracelets, 
 the sisters would walk under the tall trees, 
 gradually losing their lively sense of sur- 
 rounding balm and beauty, in tender re- 
 collections of the past, or in nobler ab- 
 straction from the charms of nature, by 
 ascending to nature's God. Thus their 
 bearts grew into one ; and the lovely 
 temper of the elder insensibly softened 
 the character of the younger. 
 
 But Flora was full of excessive disposi- 
 tions : she could do nothing temperately. 
 She beheld her sistei-'s beauty with idola- 
 trous admiration ; burning to have her 
 more seen, and telling her so with such 
 frequency, that had not Alicia's nature 
 made her pirefer affection to admiration 
 (therefore to set little value uponmereper-
 
 230 COMING OUT. 
 
 son), her character might have been in- 
 curably injured by this imprudence. 
 Flora's transport was unbounded when, 
 after her mother's return from a distant 
 excursion, she heard of a ball likely to be 
 given by a successful candidate for the 
 county, at which all the first people were 
 to be present, and prevailed upon her to 
 make Alicia go to it, 
 
 Alicia herself, who enjoyed dancing, 
 yet was constitutionally timid, received 
 her mother's intimation of taking her, 
 with a mixture of pleasure and apprehen- 
 sion. She knew no young men except 
 her brother and Jocelyn Hastings, and 
 she shrunk from giving her hand, even 
 in a dance, to a mere stranger. But the 
 certainty that such was the ordinary 
 course of these amusements, and the cu- 
 riosity natural to youth, assisted in weak- 
 ening her reluctance ; so that she pre- 
 pared for this her first exhibition without 
 suspecting that it was intended to be one. 
 
 The simplest of ball-dresses (second 
 mourning forbidding any thing gayer) 
 formed of snow-white crape, with bou-
 
 COMING OUT. 231 
 
 quels of white roses by way of decoration, 
 was well suited to her stainless beauty 
 and youth : she chose it for its simpli- 
 city ', and Mrs. Barry sanctioned it, 
 because dressing much at a country ball 
 was considered bad taste. 
 
 So lovely a vision certainly never ap- 
 peared before in earthly shape. Her eyes, 
 hei' complexion, her angel-like hair, the 
 exquisite forms of her head and neck, the 
 perfection of her shape, and the grace of 
 her step, were heightened by her look of 
 downcast modesty, and by the innocent 
 thankfulness with which she replied to 
 the encouraging expressions of her mo- 
 ther's female acquaintance. From the 
 moment she entered the ball-room, every 
 othei' object seemed annihilated : both 
 sexes crowded round her ; and in a few 
 minutes, ere she herself knew ho^v it was 
 done, her hand was pledged for dance 
 after dance in succession, to the different 
 men fortunate enough to know Colonel 
 Barry, or privileged to ask a presentation 
 to his daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Barry looked round with a giddy
 
 S3^ COMING OUT, 
 
 sensation of being upon a pinnacle, and 
 the whole world at her feet : she heard the 
 universal buzz at her daughter's beauty, 
 and she saw it heightening with her con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Ahcia danced, and raptures burst out 
 afresh. She danced like a nymph, but it 
 was like one of the huntress goddess's 
 train. Decent grace veiled her move- 
 ments, as modest drapery shaded her 
 limbs ; and even when the gay character 
 of the music called for a more bounding 
 step, her winged foot made no studied 
 display by its scattering motion. She 
 was too agitated by the murmurs swell- 
 ing round, to observe how grievously 
 many others of her sex and age were en- 
 deavouring to recall attention to them- 
 selves, by a very different mode of 
 dancing. With scarcely a breathing in- 
 terval, she got through most of the en- 
 gagements made for her by her father ; 
 but as Colonel and Mrs. Barry did not 
 wish to stale their daughter's hand to 
 nohodieSy after she had danced with all 
 the few persons of consequence in the
 
 COMING OUTi- 28^3 
 
 rcMjm, they yielded to her urgent entreaty y 
 and, declining to stay supper, allowed her 
 to take shelter on a seat between them* 
 selves, ^d nn-^ ■ 
 
 Alicia was positively terrified with the 
 effect she had produced. It may not be 
 said that it did not please her a little ; 
 but it was accompanied with such a dis- 
 tressing feeling of confusion, that the 
 pain overbalanced the pleasure. 
 
 Of all men, young Irishmen are per- 
 haps the most alive to the charm of 
 beauty ; and those who have lived wholly 
 in their native province unbridled by the 
 rules of refined society, are little disposed 
 to 'conceal their desire to do it homage. 
 On the present occasion, the admir- 
 ation excited by Alicia Barry rose to 
 frenzy ; when it was known that she 
 would not dance any more, and was going 
 away before supper, a perfect tumult suc- 
 ceeded: the polished donor of the enter- 
 tainment gracefully deprecated so cruel a 
 departure : all who had been honoured 
 with her hand, or had hoped to be so, 
 joined the loud lament. — As far as her
 
 234 COMING OUT. 
 
 timid glance took m^oT her ear could catch 
 a sound, she saw eagerly watchful coun- 
 tenances, and heard desperate or adoring 
 exclamations ; in fact, she heard herself 
 talked of, as though every body thought 
 her invulnerable to modest shame ; even 
 her very blushes were rapturously noticed. 
 Her distress now became so great, and 
 her parents were so completely satisfied of 
 her future fame as the beauty, that po- 
 litely waiving the new member's well- 
 bred importunities, in despite of clamour, 
 lamentation, reproaches, almost resist- 
 ance, from some of the most hot-headed, 
 they succeeded in getting her through 
 the room, to their post-chariot. 
 
 She encountered new distress on the 
 very threshold : so many ardent suitors 
 for the honour of handing her to her fa- 
 ther's carriage were contending round, 
 as she clung to his arm, breathlessly hur- 
 rying out thanks and refusals, that the 
 way was interrupted : her party were 
 obliged to stop. At that precise moment, a 
 young man, negligently dressed, who had 
 just leftahack chaise with the exclamation
 
 COMING OUT. S35 
 
 of *^ Faith, I am late I'' ran up against Co- 
 lonel Barry, and pausing to apologize, 
 met the full blaze of Alicia's beauty. 
 He drew back with an expression of coun- 
 tenance that needed no interpreter ; the 
 Colonel having seen the sorry vehicle 
 from which the stranger had alighted, 
 though without noticing that it had four 
 horses, merely bowed complacently, and 
 hurried his daughter forward; leaving the 
 gentleman vainly imploring for the name 
 of the vanished vision, from men who 
 were themselves too much occupied in 
 pursuing the admired object to give him 
 a reply. -^ v-^ 
 
 "Now, my dear, now you have seen 
 what a ball is !" exultingly exclaimed 
 Mrs. Barry, as they seated themselves, 
 and the carriage drove off under an Au- 
 gust full moon. " I only hope your head 
 is not quite turned !'* 
 
 "No, no, we'll hope not," assumed 
 the sager Colonel : "Ally now knows she 
 is pretty — remarkably pretty — and she 
 must therefore be very guarded whom 
 she encourages. I was very much pleased
 
 236 COMING OUT. 
 
 with her way to the young men to-night : 
 shy to them all, particular with none. 
 The very best card possible, if a girl is 
 pretty (a pause for a moment, then re- 
 suming,) it is always the safest for a young 
 girl not to try at making the agreeable ; 
 her face will do every thing for her : but 
 you are crying. Ally! What has hap- 
 pened?" 
 
 Mrs. Barry was all panic and enquiry, 
 which Alicia for some time could only 
 inarticulately allay, by repeating, with 
 hysterical interruption, " Nothing — no- 
 thing, dear mamma ! — only fluttered, 
 frightened a little." 
 
 Her mother found something so ridi- 
 culous in this agitation, that she burst 
 into a fit of light laughter : her father 
 jocosely observed, that his Ally was the 
 first woman upon record who had ever 
 cried in good earnest because she had 
 left a whole room full of enthusiastic Hi- 
 bernians, quarrelling who should admire 
 her most. 
 
 **We have kept her too close, Mrs. 
 Barry," he observed. ** We ought to have
 
 COMING OUT. 237 
 
 :: .jhf{'i>rrfMli fv--:. •. ^^rmn-r '^jf-^' ^ ■ :;^| raff r'nir 
 
 taken you out before, my dear, ' he con- 
 tinued, pressing his trembling child's hand 
 with some affection. " We should have 
 accustomed you to see yourself admired ; 
 at least, in small neighbourly parties. I 
 was always against the system of com- 
 plete petticoat parties, and letting nobody 
 see her face even at church. You were 
 wrong, you see, Mrs. Barry." ^^ 
 
 '> "Well, well, Randall" was th^ undis- 
 turbed answer, " as all is for the best, if 
 we had not kept Ally back, she would 
 pot have made sucli a sensation. I heard 
 it said all around me, that her bashfulness 
 was full as much admired as her beauty ; 
 but, of course, you were riffht." *''^\ 
 
 The Colonel could not do otherwise 
 
 iJian receive this c^ratuitous submission 
 
 ^^with due graciousness, yet he added the 
 
 I rebuke, " Don't use such strong words 
 
 ,>vhen you speak of Ally's looks." 
 
 ../ "Well then, her prettiness," resumed 
 
 the easily-corrected wife : "however, you 
 
 see I was not wrong in bringing her out 
 
 at this ball, before we take her to one of 
 
 the capitals. After this, Ally, don't you
 
 238 COMING OUT. 
 
 think you shall know how to behave in 
 an assembly of people of fashion ? You 
 won't cry then, my dear, will you ?" 
 
 Alicia answered this highly pertinent 
 question with the sincerity of the child 
 she seemed to be considered. The sweet 
 moonlight fell upon the sweeter smile of 
 her humid eyes, as she said persuasively, 
 " Indeed, dear mamma, I never wish to 
 go into a large assembly again." 
 
 **And why, my love?" interrupted 
 hei' astonished father. 
 
 "Because, if it is the constant practice 
 of gentlemen, when they are doing no- 
 thing, to stare at women till they make 
 them scarlet, and to say the grossest' 
 things loud enough for every person to 
 hear them, they will make me so angry, 
 after I get over my first panic, that I 
 fear I shall say something rude to them." 
 
 Mrs. Barry fluently took up the defence 
 of persons of fashion ; and having vindi- 
 cated them from intemperance of emo- 
 tion upon any occasion, gravely assured 
 AUcia that it was incumbent upon her 
 also not to feel vividly. Belie\dng the
 
 COMING OUT. 289 
 
 time near at hand when her daughter 
 would be carried into the vortex of plea- 
 sure, she indulged her own reminiscences 
 by describing with peculiar onction the 
 various modes of amusement, and objects 
 for emulation, of pursuit and triumph, 
 which the Hfe of the world afforded. 
 Dress, exhibition, and conquest, were 
 evidently the graces of that life, in Mrs. 
 Barry's estimation. 
 
 Alicia w^as bewildered: her mother 
 had never spoken thoroughly out before. 
 " Surely, surely," she cried, " I am not 
 to live in balls ! Dear mamma, you cannot 
 mean that I should like*such a life better 
 than dear home life ?" The deep feeling 
 with which she pronounced the word 
 home, would have told any congenial 
 heart, what were the tranquil joys, and 
 sacred affections, which her gentle nature 
 embodied in that term. 
 
 Colonel Barry's turn was now come. 
 He took up the argument on a higher 
 ground : by demonstrating the necessity 
 there was for every person to keep in the 
 station they were placed in, of following
 
 240 COMING OUT. 
 
 the fashions and habits of their con- 
 temporaries, affecting no singularity 
 either in opinion or practice, he made it 
 evident that he and Mrs. Barry were 
 obliged to go every year to the metro- 
 polis, and to bring out tiieir daughter 
 exactly as others did before them. He 
 then composedly gave a flat contradic- 
 tion to his first position, by assuring 
 Alicia, that it was a parent's duty to match 
 their children as much above their own 
 rank as possible ; therefore, that it was 
 her duty to keep her heart in such a state 
 as to be able to dispose of it according to 
 her father's wish,, whenever he should 
 decide upon the person eligible for her 
 husband. 
 
 Alicia in vain protested against mar- 
 riage for years, if ever. She could not 
 imagine how any girl could be brought 
 to quit her home, even for a palace, unless 
 she loved the possessor of it beyond 
 every object of early affection : and, at 
 present, she felt as if even that change of 
 feeling was not likely to happen with her. 
 
 " Sweetly natural!" exclaimed her 
 7
 
 COMING OUT. 241 
 
 mother ; " and so you will go on saying, 
 of course, until the right person comes." 
 
 " No such person is findable at Castle 
 Barry," resumed the Colonel. " None 
 of our neighbours are at all what we wish 
 for you. Ally : you must marry in quite 
 a different set : and for that reason we 
 shall take you into the best society in the 
 winter, that you may have a number of 
 rich and titled men to choose out of - 1 
 don't say young men, always, because 
 I hope you will have too much good 
 sense to make difference of age an objec- 
 tion, when every thing else is suitable : 
 indeed, I look to you. Ally, for what your 
 brother has disappointed me in. I don't 
 say much about it, but I can tell you 
 Marcus's foolish conduct has vexed every 
 vein of my heart." 
 
 Alicia, in sorrowful surprise, questioned 
 what he meant by so strong an expres- 
 sion. He was thrown off his guard, and 
 hastily answered, that Marcus had not 
 only spent yearly much more positive 
 money than what his father allowed him, 
 but had left numberless large debts be- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 £4-2 COMING OUT. 
 
 hind; and that, knowing himself so em- 
 barrassed, it was doubly wrong in him to 
 let Lady Sarah Mostyn make him her 
 dupe. 
 
 Pale and distressed, Alicia anxiously 
 eyed her father's ruffled countenance. 
 " Surely, dear sir," she said, " it could 
 not be my brother's fault, that Lady Sarah 
 used him ill. Perhaps I might be served 
 so, if I were vain enough to expect to 
 marry some man of rank : and don't you 
 think that Marcus would not have spent 
 so much money, if he had not been so 
 fond of living with persons of greater 
 consequence than himself?" 
 
 " Come, come. Miss Barry," inter- 
 rupted the Colonel, with an air of pique, 
 though he meant it to be playful, *' don't 
 run down our family consequence, if you 
 please. My blood, and my rent roll, I 
 believe, entitle my daughter to any match 
 in the three kingdoms. And as for 
 Marcus, since you force me to speak out, 
 the less that's said of him the better. 
 Between ourselves, it was gambling, and 
 some other bad habits of the sort, that
 
 COMING OUT. 243 
 
 forced him to take French leave of Lon- 
 don, and, I dare say, lost him the heiress. 
 No, no, it was not keeping good so- 
 ciety, not such as he met at Donnington 
 house.'* 
 
 Remembering iwhat Jocelyn Hastings 
 had once said of the lamentable preva- 
 lence of gaming, Alicia was going to 
 urge the possibility of gamesters being 
 found even amongst the friends of Lady 
 Donnington, had not her mother broke 
 in upon her by saying, " Pray don't be 
 so fooHsh, Ally, as to go on arguing with 
 your father. You may be sure he and I 
 will do nothing that is not right ; so you 
 have nothing to do, but leave every thing 
 to us, and enjoy whatever comes in your 
 way. My dear, you are crushing that 
 lovely bunch of roses in your hair against 
 the side of the carriage : sit upright, 
 dearest. I don't quite like the way you 
 have got lately, of leaning your head so 
 to one side: — does it look well. Colonel, 
 or not?" 
 
 " I think I rather liked it to-night," 
 returned the tender father 5 <« it makes 
 M 2
 
 ^44 COMING OUT. 
 
 her look what young fellows call inter- 
 esting." 
 
 " Ah now, papa!" was Alicia's national 
 and deprecatory exclamation. Her grace- 
 fully-inclined throat was immediately 
 elevated to stately perpendicular. Cheer- 
 iuller conversation followed, till, by de- 
 grees, the Colonel dropped to sleep. Mrs. 
 Barry then motioned herself and daugh- 
 ter into stillness, and closed her own 
 eyes, leaving Alicia to gaze on the moon- 
 silvered country; for awhile to think 
 only of it; then to fall back upon the sad 
 knowledge of her brother's disgrace wath 
 his father, and his serious misconduct. 
 
 Mrs. Barry did not sleep that short 
 night for thinking of a scheme the late 
 ball had suggested. Her imagination 
 was heated by the dazzling effect of her 
 daughter's first pubhc appearance in the 
 panoply of dress, and with something of 
 delirious precipitancy (the mode by 
 which emotion usually manifests itself in 
 weak minds) she secretly wrote a long 
 letter to Lady Donnington, reminding 
 her Ladyship of her former prophecy, 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 24>5 
 
 and flattering advice ; detailing the con- 
 sequent manner of Alicia's conservation, 
 and her brilliant exhibition ; and praying 
 Lady Donnington's goodness to say 
 whether she would recommend the Colo- 
 nel to take a house in London for the 
 ensuing season, instead of in Dublin. 
 Mrs. Barry fancied she had adroitly 
 masked her prime motive for this appli- 
 cation, by expressing the most unqualified 
 admiration of Lady Donnington herself^ 
 and the most profound respect for her 
 fashion ; and by confessing that it was 
 for the sake of enabling her child to study 
 such a model, that she thus ventured to 
 interest her Ladyship for the sister of one 
 who owed all his advantages of society 
 and manner to her friendship. 
 
 A very sufficient quantity of what is 
 called puffing their family fortune, and 
 county consequence, was incorporated 
 with the adulation to Lady Donnington : 
 and this letter despatched, Mrs. Barry 
 was ready to receive and dismiss as many 
 of Alicia's ball admirers as might choose 
 to present themselves. 
 M 3
 
 246 COMING OUT. 
 
 Many, indeed, rode twenty miles 
 through August sun and dust, to " ex- 
 amine," as they said, " their star by 
 daylight j" others, with more undoubting 
 devotion, came to renew worship. One 
 set brought new comers to introduce; 
 another jealously came alone. Alicia 
 was always visible. Not that Mrs. Barry 
 had the slightest idea of throwing her 
 daughter away upon a mere country 
 gentleman, however rich or well bom ; 
 nor even upon the younger son of a noble 
 family; nor, perhaps, even upon a lord 
 himself, if not gained in the field of 
 fashion : but she had no objection to have 
 Alicia proposed for by half the country, 
 and so talked of now over all Ireland. 
 And the Colonel, who began to make 
 better worldly calculations than hereto- 
 fore, being necessarily anxious to get his 
 girl well settled, deemed it wise to hear 
 what every man had to say for himself; 
 so he, too, " welcomed the coming, sped 
 the parting guest." 
 
 No one's head was more likely to be 
 turned by this general adoration than
 
 COMING OUT. ^47 
 
 poor Flora's; and that, not for herself 
 in the future, but for her sister then, 
 vShe was enchanted to see Alicia beheld 
 with something like the intense pleasure 
 with which she contemplated herj and 
 only felt this exultation subside, when 
 the latter gently explained the possible 
 evil it might produce, that of subjecting 
 her to importunity from some man who 
 could not merit affection, if he were ex- 
 cited to profess attachment by her mere 
 person. 
 
 Alicia felt, almost without knowing 
 what particular instance had left the les- 
 son within her, that it is neither the face, 
 the figure, nor the accomplishment which 
 kindles a strong and lasting fire ; that it 
 is something of sympathy with or charm 
 for the individual captivated : rather hav- 
 ing reference to character and manner, 
 than to any bodily grace whatever. 
 
 She thought of Jocelyn Hastings while 
 saying this ; and remembering how com- 
 pletely he had proved himself indifferent 
 to her, even as a well wisher, sighingly 
 owned to herself, that she would willingly 
 M 4
 
 248 COMING OUT. 
 
 have exchanged all the beauty her kin- 
 dred boasted in her, for such a character 
 as would have obtained his friendship. 
 At the present juncture, such remem- 
 brance of Jocelyn Hastings was unavoid- 
 able. Ten months had passed since he 
 left Castle Barry, and nearly five since the 
 departure of Mr. M'Manus, and now 
 something was heard of both, in a letter 
 from Mrs. Beresford. 
 
 Evidently ignorant of Mr. Hastings' 
 most secret feelings, Mrs. Beresford wrote 
 not only to announce her father's safe 
 arrival at Rio Janeiro, and to express 
 her own overpowering joy and thankful- 
 ness at their meeting, but to repeat, upon 
 his authority, some details of their early 
 friend, whom he found estabUshed at 
 Madeira. 
 
 These details, not only described Jo- 
 celyn as performing gratuitously all the 
 duties of his sacred profession amongst 
 some too poor to reward, or, for a length 
 of time, too ignorant to understand him 5 
 but patiently enduring much of irritation, 
 misconception, and ingratitude, from the
 
 COMING OUT. 249 
 
 unhappy free-thinking youth, whose early 
 vices had brought both his body and soul 
 to ^he verge of ruin, yet to whom he per- 
 severed in tenderly and firmly applying 
 the sole remedies for both — instruction 
 for the one, and restraint to the other. 
 
 Mr. M^Manus had been greatly affect- 
 ed by several scenes which he witnessed 
 accidentally between the alternately pro- 
 fane and gloomy invalid, and the young 
 guardian, wisely chosen for him by his 
 father. He described the touching sor- 
 rows of Jocelyn, at language and sen- 
 timents which would have inflamed 
 another's temper ; and remarked, how 
 powerful must have been the effect of the 
 great principle he taught over his own 
 dispositions, since he, who was once easily 
 kindled to resentment of wrong, could be 
 thus gentle without effort, and only sen- 
 sible to concern for the offender. Mrs. 
 Beresford added her own affectionate 
 comments upon this gratifying improve- 
 ment in the once-impetuous, and still 
 kindly-remembered boy; assuming the 
 fact that AUcia would join with her in 
 M 5
 
 250 COMING OUT. 
 
 the hope and beUef, that Jocelyn's Chris- 
 tian labours would be blessed, and that 
 he would bring his refractory charge back 
 to the house he had left darkened by 
 grief and shame, worthy of entire restor- 
 ation to parental love. 
 
 More moved by this revival of Jocelyn 
 Hastings than she paused to discover, 
 Alicia, on the third morning after the 
 ball, begged so earnestly for a day's rest 
 from the toil and embarrassment of helping 
 to entertain callers of both sexes, that 
 her mother gave her and Flora a holiday, 
 by permitting the latter to practise her 
 harp and drawing lessons with her sister, 
 instead of with her governess. 
 
 Alicia had long been allowed to ap- 
 propriate to herself, as a sort of sanctum, 
 a small room on the ground-floor, which, 
 having been used as an oratory, when the 
 house was inhabited by catholics, was 
 composed solely of dark wood, curiouvsly 
 carved on the walls with legends of saints, 
 and on the ceiling with scripture em- 
 blems of lilies, crowns of thorns, the 
 cross, and the keys of St. Peter. 
 20
 
 COMING OUT. 251 
 
 It had one long painted window of 
 stained glass, through which the sun 
 shone with a mellowed and richly coloured 
 light ; and its large carved door opened 
 upon a grassy flat, where stood a sort of 
 font, probably used to contain holy water 
 in ages past. 
 
 Jocelyn Hastings had assisted Alicia 
 in obtaining the few pieces of furniture 
 in this room, which were all of ancient 
 make : it was therefore naturally associated 
 with his image. She was sitting at work 
 by a table of remote date, in a dress of 
 such simple form that it belonged to no 
 age or fashion, and without other orna- 
 ment than her blushes and her employ- 
 ment (for every feminine occupation has 
 a worthy charm in the eyes of men), when 
 the space of the open doorway was sud- 
 denly filled by intruders. She looked up 
 mechanically at the darkening, and saw 
 her mother grouped with three or four 
 gentlemen. 
 
 The confusion with which both sisters 
 rose from their different avocations gave 
 token of its genuineness by the colour iii 
 M 6
 
 25^ COMING OUT. 
 
 their cheeks. Their mother's shallow 
 artifice of exclaiming, " O, you are here, 
 are you? I did not think your master 
 was gone!" could not hide from her 
 children the trick of thus bringing her 
 company to see the chapel-room. 
 
 The party, for whom Mrs. Barry had 
 employed this stratagem, were certainly 
 the elite of their neighbourhood. Two 
 younger sons and one nephew of a great 
 Earl, with whom the Barrys had no 
 previous acquaintance, and who noYv 
 came, upon the strength of the memorable 
 night's introduction, to ask after their 
 fair partner, and to present Lord St. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 This last-mentioned personage proved 
 to be the hack- chaise gentleman, of whom 
 Colonel and Mrs. Barry made such small 
 account when they encountered him in 
 quitting the ball, and who now conducted 
 himself with elegant propriety. While his 
 under-bred, though highly-born compa- 
 nions, kept staring down the modest and 
 lovely eyes they professed already to 
 adore, he walked leisurely about the
 
 COMING OUT. 25S 
 
 rooms, examining the exquisite work- 
 manship of the Gothic tracery and foliated 
 rafters of the coved roof, addressing a re- 
 mark now and then to his companions, 
 which none of them seemed to under- 
 stand. 
 
 Flora being full of information above 
 her years, deep in antiquity from taste 
 and reading, and being also at that age 
 when forward intellect is often eager for 
 display, could not resist the temptation 
 of showing the young nobleman that his 
 observations were appreciated by some- 
 body present. Alicia's ear was seized by 
 one of the Mr. Donovan's pretending to 
 criticise her sewing and hemming. Mrs. 
 Barry was talking of her girls' accomplish- 
 ments to the others, so that Flora easily 
 obtained attention, and pleased attention, 
 from her oracle. But even Flora could 
 not fail to note that his eye often turned 
 and took in a long draught of the vivid 
 blushes and downcast looks of Alicia, 
 as she sat timidly endeavouring not to 
 comprehend the insinuated compliments 
 addressed to her.
 
 ^54} COMING OUT. 
 
 The entrance of Colonel Barry, who 
 had not been in the house when this 
 party arrived, necessarily drew off atten- 
 tion for awhile to himself, during which 
 Alicia had time to recover ; and the 
 universal blush, which her mother's petty 
 stratagem had made at once visible 
 thi'ough the lawn covering her neck 
 and arms, gradually subsiding, left her 
 spotless complexion in greater lustre than 
 when seen under the imperfect light of 
 lamps. 
 
 Colonel Barry was, of course, compli- 
 mented upon his house and grounds by 
 his visitors, and required by Lord St. 
 Lawrence to give the history of some 
 heraldic coats of arms in the painted 
 window. He was not unskilful in his 
 way of laughing off his ignorance ; and 
 the enquirer, perhaps, guessing at the 
 true cause of his affected unwillingness 
 to hear his own family consequence ho- 
 noured, returned to courteous notice of 
 the little girl watching his discourse. 
 
 First, the book Flora had been reading 
 aloud was animatedly discussed, and
 
 COMING OUT. S55 
 
 then the sketch she had been making was 
 looked at. The book was a volume of Sis- 
 mondi's Italian Republics, — that history 
 more deeply interesting than romance 
 itself ; and the drawing was a sketch of 
 the old stone font, with its clothing of 
 dark ivies, and its back-ground of finely 
 grouped trees. 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence commended her 
 choice of a subject, mixing his encourag- 
 ing remarks with some useful hints ; and 
 as Flora audibly regretted her inability 
 to put in figures, he took her pencil and 
 shghtly sketched in her own. This 
 amusing, harmless gallantry, and the 
 likeness it bore to the air of the young 
 face and form thus copied, attracted 
 Alicia's attention. While she was tracing 
 with fond eagerness the resemblance 
 found there, and rather thanking Lord 
 St. Lawrence by her eyes than with her 
 tongue. Flora's whole countenance spar- 
 kled : she ventured to ask whether the 
 noble artist would just sketch her sister 
 too. 
 
 The stifled " Impossible !" of his Lord-
 
 S56 COMING OUT. 
 
 ship as he bent to the ear of Flora, and 
 raised his head with a heightened colour, 
 was not lost upon Mrs. Barry ; she was 
 joyously scanning his look of fashion, his 
 probable immense fortune, and his ac- 
 knowledged rank, when she heard one of 
 the party telling her husband that the 
 young peer was obliged to be at Windsor 
 by a certain day, at the installation of a 
 Knight of the Bath. 
 
 Mrs. Barry's disappointment was so 
 apparent, that two of the Mr. Donovans 
 laughed at the same moment, though 
 monopolizing Miss Barry, by praying 
 her to be very good-natured and make 
 them enemies for life, by bestowing a 
 flower upon one. The Colonel, wishing 
 to obtain consideration from his illus- 
 trious guest, was beginning a speech, in 
 which he took it for granted that Lord 
 St. Lawrence was well acquainted with 
 Lady Donnington, when the eldest of 
 the young honourables interposed with 
 ** No — no — St. Lawrence is one of the 
 Azorinski-ites.'* 
 
 Mrs, Barry was reduced to the morti-
 
 COMING OUT. ^57 
 
 fying necessity of asking what that meant? 
 Mr. Donovan, with cool inciviHty, an- 
 swered the mother's question to the 
 daughter. — " O, he toadies the PoHsh 
 woman ; and she and Lady Donning- 
 ton are cats and mice to each other — 
 natural enemies, as that clever pretty 
 girl, Emily Bristo, says. Nobody goes 
 to both houses. I know I only went 
 one night to the horrible foreigner's this 
 spring, and Lady Donnington positively 
 refused me my last set at Almack's for 
 the high crim.e. I suppose she will leave 
 me out of her petits soicpers at Brighton 
 next winter. What a bore, Miss Barry ! 
 Isn't it a bore ?" 
 
 Alicia, shrinking away from the 
 speaker, simply replied, that she was 
 quite a novice in such matters, therefore 
 could not answer him : but her younger 
 and severer-judging sister darted a look 
 of uncontrolled contempt ; which, inter- 
 cepting, Lord St. Lawrence smiled, and, 
 vindicating the Polish Lady's right to 
 admiration, instead of resenting the cava- 
 lier charge made against himself, brought
 
 ^58 COMING OUT. 
 
 on a complete skirmish of assertion and 
 denial between him and Mr. George 
 Donovan. 
 
 When Mrs. Barry heard that the lady 
 in question was married and excessively 
 plain, and that Lord St. Lawrence had 
 known her and her husband on the Con- 
 tinent ere she came to England, her 
 drooping hopes were up and full blown 
 again. They were brightened anew sa 
 the English peer gracefully enquired 
 whether he might hope for the pleasure 
 of meeting Colonel Barry's family in 
 London the ensuing season, where he 
 would promise his young acquaintance 
 (meaning Flora) the sight of some toler- 
 able pictures. 
 
 Neither Colonel nor Mrs. Barry had 
 heard of the EarPs gallery, so they lost 
 an admirable opportunity of saying flat- 
 tering things ; and none of the Mr. Do- 
 novans had the good nature or mischief 
 to prompt them. The Colonel affected 
 indifference while saying it was uncer- 
 tain whether he should indulge himself 
 with a tour on the Continent for a year
 
 COMING OUT. 259 
 
 or. two, or Mrs. Barry with a season of 
 good music in the English capital. Poor 
 Mrs. Barry, who did not know Bartle- 
 man's voice from Pasta' s ! 
 
 The gentlemen's horses were twice 
 announced, and once countermanded 
 after they had been rung for, ere they 
 departed. The Mr. Donovans did not 
 go until they had secured a future en- 
 trance at Castle Barry, by making sundry 
 engagements with the Colonel; and 
 Lord St. Lawrence, by his momentarily 
 fixed eyes as he bowed to Alicia, seemed 
 determined to carry away an accurate 
 remembrance of her features, — such a 
 remembrance as Mrs. Barry believed, 
 and the Colonel hoped, would lead to 
 important results. 
 
 After this morning. Castle Barry, for 
 some weeks, was never rid of idlers 
 and admirers, and female friends and 
 female critics. Mrs. Barry spent half 
 her time in answering notes of entreaty, 
 of remonstrance, of irresistible impor- 
 tunity ; in managing to keep off some 
 proposals, and to bring forward others j
 
 S60 COMING OUT, 
 
 in thinking what Alicia looked best in, 
 and where it was best to take her ; and 
 in wishing and waiting, and fretting for 
 the letter from Lady Donnington, which 
 never came. A galley-slave at the oar 
 has an easier existence. O the misery 
 of having a beauty to dispose oi\ deter- 
 mining not to part with her under the 
 highest price ! 
 
 Colonel Barry had his full share of this 
 pleasing torment : his ojffice was to reject 
 his daughter's suitors. To reject was 
 easy, as scarcely any of them had the 
 substantial ground for proposing. All 
 were ready to take Miss Barry without a 
 shilling ; but as, upon examination, those 
 who said so were not possessed of many 
 shillings themselves, the ardour of their 
 passion went for nothing with the father. 
 
 Precipitate suitors are generally poor 
 ones : so the few, whose large estates, 
 or baronetcies in immediate prospect, 
 were full as tempting to Colonel Barry 
 for his child as the high-sounding titles 
 his early desires had fixed on, seemed 
 desirous of being permitted to learn the
 
 COMING OUT. 261 
 
 disposition and habits of la belle Alice, 
 ere they committed themselves in regular 
 words. For such, dinners were to be 
 given; little excursions taken in social 
 intimacy ; new channels were conse- 
 quently opened, through which Colonel 
 Barry's scanty supplies flowed rapidly 
 away, without the remotest prospect of 
 replenishment. Frequent consultations 
 began to take place between the blinded 
 pair. Mrs. Barry, though she kept her 
 own secret about Lady Donnington's 
 neglect of her humiliating letter, owned 
 that Lady Donnington's conduct quite 
 astonished her. Such strange forgetful- 
 ness of them all ! Such a want of in- 
 terest in poor Marcus, who was once her 
 heaven above ! But it was the world. — 
 Lady Donnington would be perfection if 
 she did not live in the horrid world. 
 And if Lord St. Lawrence had not been 
 going direct into the world, after he was 
 so struck with Alicia, he must have come 
 back, and proposed for her. In the 
 same breath, Mrs. Barry denounced the 
 bare idea of marrying her girl to any of
 
 262 COMING OUT. 
 
 the Waterford men, and letting her 
 vegetate out of the "world. 
 
 After a few weeks of inward mortifica- 
 tion, the Colonel, assuming indifference, 
 assured his lady that he was not sorry 
 Lord St. Lawrence had not revisited Ire- 
 land, for he heard from his friends, the 
 Mr. Donovans, that he was not a marry- 
 ing man, and had not spent several 
 years on the Continent without con- 
 tracting some of its vices. 
 
 Mrs. Barry was always inclined to re- 
 ceive comfort ; and nothing could be 
 more consoling than hearing a bad cha- 
 racter of the man who would not come 
 and marry her daughter. Neither she nor 
 the Colonel chose to suspect the accuracy 
 of the information : coming, as it did, 
 from three young men, remarkably ill- 
 looking, remarkably disagreeable, remark- 
 ably self- conceited ; too poor to think 
 of marrying Alicia Barry ; and too un- 
 pleasant, for her to give them the slightest 
 ground of fancying their dawdling admir- 
 ation acceptable. More serious affairs, 
 however, than unmeaning gallantry were
 
 COMING OUT. 268 
 
 now fast approaching their crisis. Four 
 months after Colonel Barry's visit to 
 England, he received a letter from his 
 agent in Jamaica, telling him of the total 
 failure of the speculation into which the 
 Colonel had entered, upon the appli- 
 cation of a scheming experimentalist 
 lately gone out to these islands. Various 
 additional losses were stated, in conse- 
 quence of a great mortality amongst the 
 Negroes, and the agent's incapacity to 
 replace them, for want of proper funds. 
 References were given to the accounts of 
 different persons claiming interest upon 
 the estates, and urged as reasons why 
 their owner could not expect remit- 
 tances over at a later period, unless he 
 could find some mode of disburthening 
 the property of such demands from 
 mortgage-holders ; or of dismembering it 
 for sale. 
 
 The agent either wished, or feigned 
 to wish, that his employer would cross 
 the Atlantic, and take the evidence of 
 his own senses as to the ruinous circum- 
 stances he described j giving it as his opi-
 
 ^64< COMING OUT. 
 
 nion, that unless instant steps were taken, 
 the whole concern must come to a final 
 stop. 
 
 Colonel Barry was now absolutely 
 forced to think of this disagreeable voy- 
 age. He had bills out, for the due ho- 
 nouring of which he was totally unpro- 
 vided ; the debts to tradesmen were enor- 
 mous : it was evident that he could nei- 
 ther go on at Castle Barry, nor take a 
 house in either capital, nor even go upon 
 the continent with his family, without a 
 large and regular supply. There was 
 nothing for him but complying with his 
 agent's request, making a trip to Jamaica, 
 and sending his wife and daughters abroad. 
 They might go to France, and live en pen- 
 sion at a convent, ostensibly for the sake 
 of perfecting them in the French accent, 
 but in reality to keep Alicia back, and his 
 bills from increasing, until his prosperous 
 return ; for prosperous the Colonel in- 
 tended it should be, if he sold every 
 foot of ground he possessed beyond the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 By this arrangement, an axe was laid
 
 COMING OUT. S65 
 
 to the very root of all Mrs. Barry's joys. 
 O the misery of such a living death as 
 that of a convent to a woman who lived 
 only in crowded assemblies, and milliners' 
 show-rooms ! who never opened a book 
 of higher value than a modish album ! 
 who was counting every minute between 
 the present hour, and that in which she 
 hoped to see her daughter a peeress ! 
 
 Necessity, however, is imperious. So 
 Mrs. Barry, with floods of tears, was 
 obliged to admit that, since no money was 
 to be got, her husband must go to Jamaica 
 and she to France with an Irish family 
 of some consequence, who were taking a 
 younger daughter there, to place in a 
 celebrated school for the same purpose 
 which the Barrys meant to feign in- 
 duced them to send their daughters. Sir 
 Luke Ponsonby's family were then at 
 Brighton, whence they were to cross for 
 Dieppe : to Brighton, therefore, it was 
 agreed Mrs. Barry should convey her 
 girls. 
 
 This scheme, suddenly decided upon, 
 was as suddenly communicated to Alicia. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 26d COMING OUT, 
 
 It certainly startled her : but when she 
 heard that her mother meant to live in 
 the deepest retirement whilst abroad, 
 going solely for the double motive of ac- 
 complishing her daughters to the utmost, 
 and avoiding the necessity of having com- 
 pany for the period of her husband's ab- 
 sence : — above all, when she saw the pro- 
 fuse tears with which Mrs. Barry spoke 
 of four months' separation from him, 
 Alicia felt a sort of joyful tenderness at 
 her mother's unexpected sensibility, which 
 banished all thought of self. 
 
 Nothing was said by these unwise pa- 
 rents, beyond a vague mention of diffi- 
 culty about getting remittances duly sent; 
 trouble with agents; desire of seeing 
 what improvement the estates were ca- 
 pable oi\ &c. : yet Alicia's natural intellect 
 made her perceive that something was 
 not right in her father's affairs, or he 
 would not tempt a dangerous climate ; 
 and she said so wdth equal tenderness and 
 respect ; she even sought to dissuade 
 him from going to an island which she 
 knew of only as the grave of Europeans,
 
 COMING OUT. 267 
 
 How many of the pretty Irish girls had 
 she, in her short Hfe, seen go out, the 
 happy wives of young healthy soldiers, 
 and return widowed, or their orphan 
 babes brought home to be fed on charity I 
 Many such v/ere amongst her early cares. 
 There had ever been somethino^ so abhor- 
 rentf to her best feelings in the notion of 
 West India property, that she felt in- 
 clined to believe no blessing could rest 
 upon it ; and often when some new cir- 
 cumstance or story pressed that feeling 
 more closely upon her and Flora, they 
 were tempted to refuse every luxury pur- 
 chased by fortune thus obtained. At the 
 present moment she had a superstitious 
 dread of the voyage for her father, yet 
 she presumed not to say why ; her fa- 
 ther's opinions being openly of a very 
 different complexion. 
 
 The Colonel made light of such appre- 
 hensions, talking as soldiers of common 
 character do of the chances of battle with 
 moral ignorance and indifference ; parade 
 ing a proud consciousness of security, on 
 the plea of being in the path of duty. A^ 
 
 N 2
 
 26S COMING OUT. 
 
 if the man who has brought himself into 
 a strait by criminal wastefulness dare 
 challenge the protection of God to bring 
 him through it ! Or he who performs an 
 action of his own free will, by which he 
 hopes to obtain the greatest advantage, 
 may vaunt it as a thing done solely for 
 the good of those, who, being inseparably 
 connected with him, cannot help sharing 
 his loss or gain ! The Colonel had his 
 reasons, to which his Lady was privy, 
 why preparations were to be made quietly 
 and secretly ; and why he should accom- 
 pany his family a small part of the way 
 to the port where they were to cross to 
 Milford Haven ; then quit them, and 
 turn back to Cork, his place of ,en^J>ark- 
 ation. ./ (r^ffT 
 
 Mrs. Brudenell was previously sent to 
 Dublin on some specious errand, and there 
 sent her coiigee by letter, with a flatter- 
 ing apology for the abrupt dismissal, and 
 a small douceur over her next half year's 
 salary, by way of compensation. All the 
 dear silent neighbourhood of Alicia's 
 home 5 its trees, waters, and grassy walks -,
 
 COMING OUT. 269 
 
 its old grey church, and popish well ; the 
 beloved garden at Mount Pleasant, and 
 the neat cabins built by Mr. M'Manus on 
 a reclaimed waste beyond, together with 
 every turf-cutter and potatoe-setter in 
 and about Castle Barry, were visited, and 
 wept, and blessed, and lingered over, in 
 hard silence by herself and Flora. 
 
 They were forbidden to say that they 
 w^ere going away ; and when both their 
 kind young hearts fancied the many wants 
 which would be unrelieved while they 
 were absent, and how often such and 
 such a poor creature would wish " some- 
 body to tell their grievances to," no 
 wonder the pang was keener felt, than 
 when solely for themselves ! 
 
 They were spared, however, the bitter- 
 ness of witnessing their dependents' grief; 
 and clamorous though it be, the grief of 
 the Irish peasantry is sincere and affect- 
 ing. Flora rejoiced that no one knew 
 they were going; since she could now 
 remember her nurse's face and old Den- 
 nis's with their habitual smiles: Alicia 
 inwardly thought that such unconscious- 
 N S
 
 ^70 COMING OUT. 
 
 ness was as heart-piercing to look on as 
 the s|)orts of the animal we know destined 
 for immediate death. 
 ' '-^In early youth any separation, however 
 short, seems for an eternity : even the 
 gentlest nature is impatient at that first 
 period, under a momentary check of long- 
 indulged pleasures. We must have loved 
 and lost again and again, possessed and 
 parted from objects of the tenderest affec- 
 tion, (O how often !) ere we are brought 
 to see that there is as much vanity in 
 expecting everlasting life in a woild 
 where we know our existence has its ap- 
 pointed term, as in looking for a conti- 
 nuance of that happiness, which we^re 
 told is not to be given us here. ' -\ " 
 
 And if we stopped at this convieHon, 
 who might abide its chilling influence? 
 Thanks be to God, such a conviction is 
 generally the star of a brighter hope and 
 a surer expectation ; and when that arises 
 upon our hearts, this bri^ef passage of life, 
 though it may be strewed with many a 
 ' scattered joy, is beheld without dismay, 
 and trod in joyful security.
 
 COMING OUT. ^71 
 
 In saying farewell to the familiar scenes 
 and domestic friends of her childhood, 
 Alicia Barry concluded she had gone 
 through the extremity of present suffer- 
 ing ; for, though a foreign land was before 
 her, she was to go there with her mother 
 and sister ; and youthful imagination al- 
 ready gave cheerfulness to the prospect : 
 trusting, as she did, that nothing, mean- 
 while, would befall her distant father and 
 brother. How, then, was she dismayed, 
 when, out of sight of Castle Barry, she 
 was shown a letter from Lady Donning- 
 ton, (arrived that mornuig), shortly but 
 strenuously urging Colonel and Mrs. 
 Barry to send their eldest daughter over 
 to her, on " a visit of ages !'* 
 
 LadyDonnington was then at Brighton, 
 where she said she meant to winter, pro- 
 vided Miss Barry and she found it agree- 
 able, or the latter did not play her the 
 probable trick of marrying directly ; if 
 not, they would go over to Paris, or 
 make a flight to Edinburgh ; after which, 
 they would be back in London for any 
 possible pleasant thing. Mrs. Barry 
 N 4<
 
 27^ COMING OUT. 
 
 might then claim her daughter, when- 
 ever Miss Barry got tired, or her parents 
 tired of being without her. 
 
 Not a word was said of Marcus ; not a 
 reference made to Mrs. Barry's secret ap- 
 pUcation (Mrs. Barry, of course, thought 
 it had miscarried) ; not a remark offered 
 upon the probable developement of 
 Alicia's beauty; except, indeed, in the 
 prophecy of her speedy marriage ; not a 
 doubt admitted of the Barry family's 
 eager acceptance of this sudden overture. 
 
 Had Alicia been fully informed, either 
 of Lady Donnington's character, or par- 
 ticular line of conduct towards her pa- 
 rents, she certainly would have gone 
 nearer to rebelHon, in attempting to ward 
 off a threatened fate, than she had ever 
 before done ; but she knew Lady Don- 
 nington only as her brothei''s idolatry 
 described her, and as her mother's vener- 
 ation for her fashion implied; and she 
 therefore limited her resistance to the 
 tearful assurance that she could have no 
 pleasure in gay society when separated 
 from her mother and sister, and anxious
 
 COMING OUT. ^3 
 
 for her father ; nay, that she would he 
 distressed by living amongst persons, 
 with many of whom her poor brother had 
 unthinkingly gone into expenses so dis- 
 pleasing to his parents. 
 ./•Colonel Barry prayed her not to per- 
 plex him with reasons against a plan to 
 which he had just given his concurrence*, 
 for he had other things to think of at that 
 moment. However, he certainly thought 
 it his duty not to lose such an opportunity 
 of having her introduced to the highest 
 circles by the very highest woman of 
 fashion; and that she must therefore 
 make up her mind to follow Lady Don- 
 nington's advice and example in every 
 thing; and be guided by her entirely, 
 while under such distinguished pro- 
 tection. 
 
 Mrs. Barry, with her ordinary levity, 
 talked rapturously on the present occa- 
 sion. With her this event was a 'pro- 
 vidence, and Lady Donnington the best 
 of women. She declared herself at the 
 summit of her wishes ; foreseeing from 
 this unexpected letter exactly such a des- 
 N 5
 
 274 COMING OUT. 
 
 tiny for Alicia as a good faiiy might have 
 conferred, had such a gifted personage 
 assisted at the infant's birth. ii 
 
 Flora half-joyfully expressed a hope 
 *« that Alicia might meet with that agree- 
 able English Earl who came with the 
 Mr. Donovans, and was so kind to her ; 
 his good-nature and his drawing put her 
 so in mind of dear Mr. Hastings! " Then 
 recollecting that she and her sister would 
 be separated, she changed her tone, and 
 bewailed their useless separation. . o 
 
 Mrs. Barry assured Flora that she- was 
 too young to comprehend all the advan- 
 tages of such an introduction into life, 
 but that Alicia must be aware of them ; 
 and if not now, a few short weeks, per- 
 haps, would most agreeably enlighten 
 her. jjLj njcjii iixi'lk:. 
 
 Alicia's cheeks became crimsan, and 
 her heart sunk with instant sense of her 
 mother's meaning. Marriage had already 
 been talked of to her, and the essentials 
 required by her parents accurately stated; 
 but as they had already refused matches 
 which her humility thought, in a worldly
 
 COMING OUT. 275 
 
 view, fully equal to her pretensions, and 
 as they never led her to suppose she 
 would be urged into accepting any man 
 she did not like, she bounded her concern 
 to regret at the probability of disappoint- 
 ing their wish, by preferring an unfettered 
 life to the most splendid chain ever be- 
 stowed by Hymen. 
 
 As despatch was a matter of moment 
 to Colonel Barry, for reasons he would 
 not let his children know, though our 
 readers may guess at them, he parted 
 from his wife and daughters at the first 
 post-house, and, throwing himself into a 
 chaise, took the nearest way to Cork, 
 where he had already secured a passage 
 in a West Indiaman, bound for Jamaica. 
 
 A packet for Milford Haven sailed 
 half an hour after Mrs. Barry got to Wa- 
 terford. It carried them safely across the 
 Channel to the opposite coast; where, 
 immediately on landing, the mother and 
 daughters, accompanied by one maid and 
 a serviceable man-servant, resumed land- 
 travelling, and posted, with little delay, 
 to Brighton. 
 
 N 6
 
 276 COMING OUT. 
 
 Although Mrs. Barry professed to be^ 
 lieve she was going to settle herself and 
 Flora for four or five months in a dull 
 French province, during this journey she 
 secretly indulged an expectation that 
 Lady Donnington would invite her to 
 spend part of that time with her 5 and 
 when she got to Brighton, other views 
 opened upon her. She had not left her 
 husband's side a week, ere she forgot 
 every thing he had said about the neces- 
 sity of making the most of the few hun- 
 dred pounds left for her in a banker's 
 hand ; giving willing ear to the Irish 
 family she joined at the Steyne Hotel, 
 when they talked of her accompanying 
 them to Paris, instead of stupifying in a 
 province. 
 
 A girl of Flora's age was not likely to 
 offer any opposition to such a tempting 
 plan 'y and AUcia was yet too much under 
 the influence of habitual obedience, nay, 
 too ignorant of their real situation, to 
 venture an enquiry into the prudence of 
 such a measure. The chief conquest she 
 achieved over her mother was, getting
 
 COMING OUT. S77 
 
 her to refrain from announcing their ar- 
 rival to Lady Donnington the evening of 
 their coming. She prayed for one quiet 
 night, ere she must rouse her spirits to 
 encounter that Lady Donnington, of 
 whom she had no recollection, except of 
 having been exceedingly abashed by her. 
 
 Early the next morning a notification 
 of Mrs. Barry's arrival, on her way to 
 France, was sent to Lady Donnington, 
 with an obliged acceptance of her Lady- 
 ship's flattering invitation for her daugh- 
 ter 5 who, of course, was said to be ori- 
 ginally intended for the Continent, with 
 her mother. After skimming Mrs. Barry's 
 note, Lady Donnington was scrawling 
 the single authoritative line of ** Do bring 
 Miss Barry to me directly, dear madam !" 
 when, recollecting that it would be as well 
 to reconnoitre her young guest ere she 
 admitted her, undisciplined, she got into 
 the chair that was waiting to carry her to 
 a bath, ordering it to the Steyne Hotel. 
 
 Expecting a visit, or a summons to 
 visit, Mrs. Barry was ready for either, in 
 the most fashionable morning costume of
 
 27S COMING OUT. 
 
 Dublin-Parisian taste. Alicia was over- 
 di'essed, sorely against her incJination, 
 which ever pointed to simplicity ; and the 
 last fashion having been one of a very 
 fantastic character, became when exces- 
 sive absolutely theatrical ; so that, in a 
 spreading gauze hat, strewed over, as it 
 were, with little bunches of transparent 
 Genoa flowers, and in a sea-green pelisse, 
 all in a flutter with tassels and trimmings, 
 this modestly-lovely girl looked what 
 Lady Donnington accused her of intend- 
 ing to be, " a fancy-ball PerditaJ^ 
 
 But matchless beauty is supreme over 
 the ridiculous ; and as Alicia's eyes fell, 
 and her young cheek coloured at so un- 
 gentle a salutation, even the woman oi^ 
 the world felt she was rather a victim 
 tlian a doll ; and she followed up her 
 first exclamation, by observing how much 
 Miss Barry's appearance was improved. 
 
 Mrs. Barry poured forth such a tide of 
 compliments, and acknowledgments, and 
 anticipations of delight for her daughter, 
 from Lady Donnington's distinguishing^ 
 unmerited Jcindness, that Alicia was first 
 J iiyiU lijivv
 
 COMING OUT. 279 
 
 painfully humiliated by them, then roused 
 to struggle for the family dignity, and so 
 to notice their titled friend's somewhat 
 unceremonious mode of pronouncing her 
 admiration. 
 
 As the artless novice frankly requested 
 indulgence from utter ignorance of so- 
 ciety, and smilingly expressed an appre- 
 hension that not even Lady Donnington 
 would be able to overcome her unapt 
 nature, so as to fit her for becoming ge- 
 nerally agreeable ; her Ladyship eyed her 
 in silent speculation, then, having made 
 up her mind as to the character she was 
 about to attempt managing, she turned, 
 and addressed Mrs. Barry. " Now you 
 must know, my dear madam, that until 
 this moment, I never have undertaken 
 any young lady ; so I do not profess to 
 invite Miss Barry to a school (with a 
 tincture of sarcasm in the emphasis upon 
 that word): if she thinks there is anything 
 in me worth copying, she must learn it 
 by her own study and genius, L teach 
 nothing, positively nothing : witness my 
 two precious nieces. Thank Heaven, I 
 never interfered with their education : —
 
 ^80 COMING OUT. 
 
 of course, you have heard of Lady Sarah^s 
 maiTiage with that revohitionary general 
 at Naples?" 
 
 Mrs. Barry expressed unfeigned asto- 
 nishment, and might have said sometliing 
 of condolence too, had not Lady Don- 
 nington gone on with as much indiffer- 
 ence as though she had spoken of a stran- 
 ger's disgrace, *' Now I wish you to un- 
 derstand, that I have asked Miss Barry 
 to visit me, merely that I may take her 
 about a little, and let her see and be seen ; 
 but I wish her to understand also, that if 
 she is to be with me, she must allow me 
 to judge for her upon occasions, where 
 she can know nothing of herself. She must 
 be so good as take my word for every 
 thing ; since I see, by that unhappy hat 
 at twelve o'clock at noon, that she must 
 not be trusted with dressing herself; 
 that is, you must get rid of her maid, and 
 leave me to find her one. With regard 
 to her intimacies, there, too, I must have 
 entire command. I never could bear 
 little sets, and young ladies coming 
 every day to one another to tell secrets : —
 
 COMING OUT. 281 
 
 nothing is so missy ! In short, clicks 
 are odious to me." " ^^^^^' Si^snusrn 
 
 LadyDonningtoii paused to draw breath. 
 Mrs. Barry was all gratitude and submis- 
 sion ; — both her daughters looked dis- 
 mayed. Her ladyship resumed. 
 
 " One thing I must, at the outset, warn 
 Miss Barry against, — flirting, which is de- 
 testable to me, on account of its very bad 
 taste ; it is the worst taste possible in a 
 very young woman, especially if she is 
 prettier than common; and the worst 
 policy if she wishes to marry. Men never 
 think seriously of a girl that is called en- 
 tertaining ; they either suspect her of be- 
 ing blue, or they fear she will make her 
 husband orange." 
 
 As not even the younger part of her 
 company apprehended this figurative term 
 for jealousy, the elegant speaker con- 
 cluded them all, " Poor creatures ! " how- 
 ever, Alicia, she saw, was outwardly a 
 thing of " light, splendour, and joy," and 
 that was the whole scope of Lady Don- 
 nington's cares upon the present occasion. 
 
 Alicia, however, did not suffer her to
 
 282 COMING OUT. 
 
 continue long under the impression that 
 she was a ** poor creature." She entered 
 her protest against flirting with such 
 maidenly spirit, that her Ladyship hastily 
 deprecated the idea of her being a Metho- 
 dist. Mrs. Barry hastened to disavow 
 "such a character for a child of hers." 
 Alicia, struck with the absurd contrast of 
 Methodism and gaudy apparel, just 
 touched her flaring hat, and yielded to an 
 irrepressible burst of laughter. Lady 
 Donnington caught the jest, and, her own 
 features relaxing, she congratulated her 
 young acquaintance upon having at least 
 one qualification for the world, — a lively 
 sense of the ridiculous. She then interro- 
 gated Mrs. Barry upon her daughter's 
 tastes and talents. 
 
 Mrs. Barry eagerly named dancing 
 first. Lady Donnington was delighted ; 
 dancing was one of the best things, she 
 said, for a young lady to do well. No 
 one was ever known to dance with ballet 
 dancers, but many were terribly in the 
 habit of singing with their masters, by 
 way of society 5 and, indeed, if once young
 
 dOMING OUT. ^3 
 
 ladies got a rage for being great musi- 
 cians, there was no guarding against the 
 immense number of bad acquaintances 
 which such a passion brought round 
 them. 
 
 After this, other branches of female 
 acquirement, and other points of female 
 opinion were questioned ; the catechising 
 ending by the complete surrender of 
 Alicia, body and soul, into the hands of 
 Lady Donnington ; a woman, of whom 
 this inconsiderate mother only knew, that 
 she was of the highest fashion, but had 
 not a single pledge for her having one 
 principle of moral good, much less of re- 
 ligious principle within her. Yet did 
 Mrs. Barry believe she was actuated by 
 the purest desire of her child's good. 
 Simple was the touchstone that would 
 have roused conscience, and elicited truth, 
 had she resorted to it. Had she asked 
 herself whether she would gladly ex- 
 change her present brilliant chimeras 
 for her daughter's willing union with a 
 man of high principle and easy fortune, 
 and answered in the affirmative, then she
 
 S84 COMING OUT. 
 
 might have believed herself influenced 
 by no selfish ambition. 
 
 LadyDonnington, in the same business- 
 like tone with which she had hitherto 
 pursued conversation, asked Mrs. Barry 
 when she went to France ; observed how 
 uncomfortable she must be at an hotel ; 
 complained of being "in the street" her- 
 self, because living in a ready-furnished 
 house, while one lately built and lefl her 
 by a relation was refitting for her recep- 
 tion ; and, upon hearing Mrs. Barry 
 meant to cross to Dieppe in a day or two, 
 rejoined, " By way of being civil, I will 
 confess I am not sorry to hear you are 
 not going to stay for the Brighton winter ; 
 I so dislike interference ! If I bring Miss 
 Barry out, I bring her out : — and with 
 a mamma next door, I know girls are 
 very unmanageable : there is always some 
 pet acquaintance, or pet gown to beg off. 
 Miss Barry, I must have that fine hat 
 burnt : we are all nuns here (touching 
 her own blonde veil) : when you come to 
 me, my maid shall look over your trous- 
 seau (for want of a word), and see what
 
 COMING OUT. 2S5 
 
 you want. I hope Colonel Barry means 
 to be very magnificent, Mrs. Barry : there 
 is no doing any thing without quantities 
 of money.*' 
 
 Alicia tried to interpose a vehement 
 rejection of any mode of life which 
 required such demands upon her father ; 
 and the name of her brother was actually 
 trembling on her lips, when her mother 
 cheerfully declared that Colonel Barry 
 would leave his daughtei-'s expenditure 
 entirely under her Ladyship's regulation : 
 following this up by some extravagant 
 compliment, which, as she was not a na- 
 tive of Ireland, was sadly deficient in 
 the national characteristic of sucj^, ^^julor 
 giums, grace and gaiety. f^fh r.r - 
 
 Lady Donnington, however, accepted 
 the incense without regarding it ; then 
 proceeded to say, she was going to her 
 country house in Berkshire, until her 
 new Brighton residence was completed ; 
 when she should return to open it with a 
 select evening party, for whicli her cards 
 w^ere already issued. During their seclu- 
 sion at Birkham, Miss Barry might spend
 
 ^86 COMING OUT. 
 
 whole days in practising quadrille steps 
 and sol fa's ; or in reading up to the peo- 
 ple left behind them ; or in making 
 odious paper and card things for the 
 charity sale at the Ladies' Society room. 
 In short, as Lady Donnington never ad- 
 mitted a soul, except her steward, and 
 lawyer, and grazier, when she went on 
 business to Birkham, Miss Barry would 
 have all the day from seven to seven to 
 herself; that is, if she chose to rise so 
 early, and could dine so late. ' ' ' 
 
 This proposal met with a third burst 
 of grateful acquiescence from Mrs. Barry, 
 though not so sincere a one as its prede-' 
 cessors ; for she did not relish such delay 
 of Alicia's appearance. Alicia herself ex- 
 pressed unfeigned pleasure in seeing 
 more of England, the beauty of which 
 had often cheated both her and Flora of 
 many a painful thought, while travelling 
 from Milford Haven ; and her submis- 
 sion was followed by another revelation 
 of Lady Donnington's will. 
 
 " It would be too cruel to take your 
 daughter from you this last day, so I
 
 COMING OUT. 287 
 
 shall not ask her to go with me to Lady 
 Tottenham's to-night; only let her be 
 ready for me and my travelling carriage 
 to-morrow, directly after breakfast: but 
 stay (as she herself was rising from her 
 seat) ; I have a great mind to take her 
 with me to see my new house. I am now 
 going to the bath. I will come back for 
 her." 
 
 Lady Donnington applied her hand 
 to the bell as she spoke, while Alicia's 
 reluctant eyes and her mother's ready 
 tongue asked when she should be ready ? 
 
 " Oh ! I forgot ! — two o'clock, if you 
 please, Miss Barry ; and without that 
 hat." 
 
 Alicia with gentle dignity and a gentler 
 blush removed the hat from her head, 
 leaving her head, hair, and throat in un- 
 shaded beauty. Lady Donnington was 
 actually dazzled ; but quickly recovering, 
 with such an expression of visible plea- 
 sure in her looks that it cheated even 
 Flora into thinking it amiable, resumed, 
 " Only throw a square of black lace over 
 a cap and that hair, and put off your
 
 ^88 COMING OUT. 
 
 smart pelisse for any thing dark, and you 
 will be quite correct. Good morning, 
 Mrs. Barry ; I wish you all sorts of plea- 
 sant things in Paris! O, that is your 
 other daughter ! She looks spirituelle, but 
 not like her sister. (Flora's quick sense 
 caught the full meaning of the pause and 
 the remark, and both her face and her 
 heart burnt.) Two o'clock. Miss Barry. — 
 I hope your brother likes India. — Good 
 morning." Without staying for reply 
 to the last question, or any other. Lady 
 Donnington with a sweeping bend of her 
 head, and replacing her eye-glass in her 
 belt, quitted the room. 
 
 Mi-s. Barry certainly did not expect 
 her congee to be given so unceremo- 
 niously : she had buoyed herself up with 
 the hope of being invited to witness Ali- 
 cia's first public exhibition, or to be asked 
 for a few days to Birkham, or at least to 
 be favoured with this last evening in pri- 
 vate at Lady Donnington's ; but her La- 
 dyship's manner was decisive : and even 
 the most obtuse could not help feeling 
 that Lady Donnington would not bear
 
 COMING OUT. ^89 
 
 the slightest appearance of dictation or 
 appropriation, — (she, that dictated to, and 
 made use of, every creature within her 
 reach !) — much less the smallest effort at 
 intruding upon her society. 
 
 Mrs. Barry confusedly saw this, yet 
 would not allow it, when Alicia, after 
 their visitor's departure, expressed some 
 distaste of much which Lady Donning- 
 ton had said ; remarking, with a daugh- 
 ter's commendable jealousy for a parent's 
 respectability, upon the strange omission 
 of an invitation of some sort to her mo- 
 ther: she wondered, too, that but one 
 parting question had been made about 
 her brother. 
 
 To this Mrs. Barry replied, that both 
 omissions were easily accounted for. 
 Lady Donnington could not do more 
 than mention Marcus, unless she reverted 
 to the cause which had driven him from 
 England ; and that could not be expected 
 from her as aunt to Lady Sarah Mostyn. 
 And she had not asked Mrs. Barry to 
 Birkham, because the latter had herself 
 foolishly said, she was going immediately 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 ^90 COMING OUT. 
 
 to France. Nay, that evening Lady Don- 
 nington spoke of having an engagement. 
 Alicia thought that some regret might 
 have been expressed by Lady Donning- 
 ton upon the occasion ; and having frankly 
 declared this opinion, she ceased from 
 urging it, remaining herself under the 
 disagreeable impression that Lady Don- 
 nington appeared to think far too much 
 of the distance between the ranks of a 
 peeress and the wife of a gentleman : 
 nay, that her Ladyship erroneously ima- 
 gined, that high rank absolved individuals 
 from obedience to the general law of so- 
 ciety. Mrs. Barry did not allow either 
 herself or her daughter to question the 
 matter further : her own arrangements 
 were to be made for a speedy transfer to 
 France, since destined to accompany Sir 
 Luke Ponsonby's family ; and Alicia was 
 to be re-dressed : and the muster of a 
 wardrobe got down from Dublin at a 
 shameful expense, just as the latest fa- 
 shions were going out, was to be made 
 before every competent person of their 
 suite.
 
 COMING OUT. Q91 
 
 While her maid, and two good-hu- 
 moured Miss Ponsonbys were occupied in 
 this momentous review with Mrs. Barry, 
 Flora offered to assist her sister in chang- 
 ing her pelisse ; and going with her into 
 their chamber, gave vent to her sup- 
 pressed feelings in a perfect torrent of 
 vexation and mourning. She professed 
 to have taken a perfect antipathy to Lady 
 Donnington. She wondered her mamma 
 did not see how insolently they were all 
 put by, and ordered to do this, and that, 
 like so many slaves. She wondered how 
 Alicia could submit to be made such a 
 doll of; for it was plain, from what Lady 
 Donnington said, that she never might 
 choose even the gown she was to wear, nor 
 the people she might like, nor the places 
 she was to go to: — it was hard, very hard, 
 that Flora was to be forced to give up 
 her sister for such a stranger ; who did 
 not seem to care w^hether the poor little 
 gM in the corner were sad or indifferent 
 at the separation. Lady Donnington 
 might have left them the whole last day 
 of Alicia's society ; in truth, altogether, 
 o 2
 
 29^ coBiiNG our. 
 
 Flora could not imagine what could make 
 such a person as this fine lady want Ali- 
 cia to stay with her. 
 
 The riddle was indeed inexplicable to 
 a natural-hearted girl not thirteen ; and, 
 from Alicia's low estimation of personal 
 attractions, as much beyond her power of 
 guessing at : but in respect to her mo- 
 ther's avowed opinions, she strove to 
 soften Flora's intemperate judgment of 
 their new acquaintance, by stating, that 
 the latter could have no other motive 
 than to do a kindness when she thus in- 
 vited an inexperienced, therefore awk- 
 ward girl, to pass a whole season under 
 her roof. 
 
 Flora persisted in asking what good 
 Alicia was to obtain from such an intro- 
 duction. Nothing, she thought, except 
 being taken about to balls and parties 
 and operas, and being admired. All 
 that might be very charming and very 
 delightful. Flora dare sai/^d, provided the 
 person that took her sister about did not 
 domineer over her, and make it such a 
 monstrous favour. Nay, there was nothing
 
 COMING OUT. 283 
 
 on earth Flora desired more than to see 
 her sister admired : but for all that, she 
 would not accept such a gratification at 
 the cost of proper pride. 
 
 With her whole sweet nature in the 
 pressure she gave her sister against her 
 heart, Alicia tenderly endeavoured to 
 correct Flora's somewhat selfish sensibi- 
 lity, and to soften the expression of other- 
 wise right feeling. She playfully assured 
 her sister, that she believed they ought 
 rather to thank Lady Donnington for 
 intending to over-rule a young compa- 
 nion's will in unimportant matters, than 
 for giving her so many chances of being 
 admired; the one being likely to do a 
 person some good, the other being sure 
 to do them much harm. She insisted 
 that it was the duty both of herself and 
 Flora to bend their inclinations to those 
 of their mother, when she did not urge 
 them to anything forbidden by that higher 
 Parent, whose commands Mr. Hastings 
 had taught them always to obey first. In 
 the present instance, perhaps neither of 
 them knew their mother's reasons for what
 
 294 COMING OUT. 
 
 seemed to them rather lowering to family 
 respectability : or perhaps they were both 
 too young to understand them if told. 
 At any rate, Flora must allow she was not 
 yet of an age to question any wish of her 
 mother's ; and Alicia felt, that after hav- 
 ing more than once respectfully urged 
 her great desire of going as little into 
 the crowded w^orld as possible, and having 
 been told she must not be so gratified, it 
 was ker duty to submit without murmur- 
 ing. Was not the present, one of the sea- 
 sons of which Mr. Hastings had some- 
 times told them, when they would first 
 be called to give up their own wishes, 
 and then be tasked to resist the tempt- 
 ations of the new situations imposed upon 
 them? Very different indeed would be 
 their trials during separation : Alicia was 
 in danger of being led away by acquir- 
 ing a great appetite for pleasure ; and 
 Flora, from her probable settlement at a 
 foreign seminary, would be liable to en- 
 courage the spirit of repining : thus both 
 must strive against their characters and 
 their circumstances* a n&ib
 
 COMING OUT. 295 
 
 Somewhat nettled by the allusion to 
 her age of unquestioning submission. 
 Flora replied with some heat, that no- 
 thing, then, should make her do what she 
 thought debasing, when she came to 
 Alicia's time of life. And, following up 
 this violence with more sentiments of the 
 same nature, worked himself into a sort 
 of transport; during which she accused 
 the sister she really thought incapable of 
 sudhi unkindness, of caring little for her 
 future comfort. 
 
 -^ AHcia's silent tears only replied to 
 this grievous burst of temper, while in- 
 wardly deploring that she was, indeed, 
 to separate from a sister whom she loved 
 too fondly not to wish weeded of every 
 disposition hateful to God and man ; and 
 foi' whom she dreaded the pernicious 
 effect of foreign flatteries, and the un- 
 controlled habit of thinking her own 
 intellect superior to those around her. 
 Her eyes were still streaming, when 
 Lady Donnington's carriage drove up to 
 the door of the hotel. One sister rushed 
 from their bed-room, as if the object of 
 o 4
 
 S96 COMING OUT. 
 
 her aversion were likely to mount up 
 there ; and the other, hastily drying her 
 eyes, as many have done before, ere they 
 went from real sorrow to false joy, hur- 
 ried to show herself for an instant to her 
 mother. 
 
 " Don't keep Lady Donnington wait- 
 ing, my love !*' exclaimed Mrs. Barry, in 
 a fuss of eagerness, as Alicia opened the 
 door, " I like you, above all things, in that 
 veil. Get away ! get away !" 
 
 Alicia's quick movements being only to 
 prevent notice of her reddened eyes, 
 she turned from the room with a step as 
 heavy as her heart. 
 
 Lady Donnington, who sat alone in 
 an open barouche, had full leisure to 
 observe her young protegee's air, as the 
 latter walked forwards to the entrance of 
 the hotel; and to scan her dress while the 
 step of the carriage was letting down. 
 
 Quite satisfied with her appearance, 
 therefore in high good humour, she ex- 
 claimed, as Alicia seated herself, and re- 
 plied to the bow of her mother's old 
 footman by a smile, " Nothing can be
 
 COMING OUT. 297 
 
 better than this pretty mob and Chan- 
 tillj veil. That poiissiere des rubies is 
 quite refreshing too, after your gay 
 green pelisse. O, by the way, Miss 
 Barry, we cannot do without a man ser- 
 vant for you. If Mrs. Barry has one to 
 spare, pray tell her to leave him." 
 
 AHcia was astonished. " What could 
 she want with a man servant ?" burst in* 
 stinctively from her lips. Lady Don- 
 nington soon demonstrated, that unless 
 Miss Barry meant to usurp tlie time and 
 command of one of Lady Donnington's ten 
 or twelve liveried loimgers, she must have 
 a male domestic of her own to attend her 
 and her maid whenever she wanted to 
 go out alone to shops or baths, and to carry 
 notes, execute commissions, &c. In 
 short, it was the style Lady Donnington 
 chose a young lady to appear in when 
 under her protection ; and Alicia, too 
 eager to seize any opportunity of avoid- 
 ing fresh trammels of obligation, with 
 some of her sister's throbbing pride, 
 said, she was sure her mamma would do 
 by her whatever was thought proper for 
 o 5
 
 ^98 COMING our. 
 
 the daughter of a gentleman. Lady 
 Donnington having done with that sub- 
 ject, abruptly hoped Miss Barry had not 
 the rage of being delicate, which some 
 young ladies had, who made themselves 
 odious, either by making objections, or 
 taking cold upon all occasions. Miss 
 Barry might see she kept her carriage 
 open as long as possible every year ; and 
 the present day was positive sumn^r, 
 though almost the last day of October. 
 
 Alicia assured her Ladyship she was 
 used to live in the open air at Castle 
 Barry. Lady Donnington, having for- 
 gotten that Miss Barry, though used to 
 free air, might not be used to the airy 
 fashion of a lined cap, made no further 
 enquiry into her habits or constitution, 
 but entered at once into an amusing de- 
 scription of the amusements going on, 
 and the people of fashion then resident 
 at Brighton. il:ro?^i61 qh&w bibi 
 
 Amongst the most ridiculous portraits 
 she drew, was that of the Polish lady, 
 whose first assembly in London had been 
 the subject of her animadversion during
 
 COMING OUT. 299 
 
 Colonel Barry's visit to England in the 
 spring. She talked of her hideous per- 
 son and wardrobe of jewels; her idiot- 
 like manner, and real maliciousness ; her 
 mean menage and external magnificence : 
 in short, Princess Azorinski, thus painted, 
 certainly deserved the title her biogra- 
 pher gave her, of the Little Monster ; 
 and Alicia, who had begun with smiling 
 at the motley picture, ended by shrink- 
 ing from the society in which this hateful 
 fcH-eigner would be found. 
 '^ So varied and so odd were Lady Don- 
 nington's descriptions of every body and 
 every thing, that it was not in the nature 
 of youth to be less than entertained at 
 the moment ; though after-reflection 
 might suggest, that not one particle of 
 interest in any thing good or great was 
 manifested by the satirist. Under the 
 influence of existing pleasure, Alicia's 
 recent tears were forgotten, and her 
 beautiful eyes shining out in their fullest 
 lustre, when, returning from merely look- 
 ing at the outside of Lady Donnington's 
 house, the carriage whirled them down 
 o 6
 
 300 COMING OUT, 
 
 the west cliff, already thronged with 
 horsemen and promenaders. 
 
 Perhaps no out-of-door scene is so 
 much like the interior of home-meetings 
 as that we see at Brighton. There is 
 much of the easy carelessness in the ren- 
 contres, recognitions, separations, and 
 returns which we find going on in the 
 crowded assemblies of London : the same 
 audible arrangement of future plans ; the 
 same little clustered knots of persons 
 solely occupied with one another. In 
 winter this is eminently the case ; for, by 
 that season, every mere bird of passage 
 is gone back to their business or their 
 Christmas dinners, leaving the trottoir 
 and the drive entirely to the members of 
 the ona great family of fashion. 
 
 The scene now presented by the cliff 
 was really agreeable. The sun was 
 shining with autumnal fervour in an un- 
 clouded sky over that wide expanse of 
 sea which spreads almost level with the 
 lower town of Brighton ; and the sea 
 itself was of glassy smoothness. The 
 carriages passing on to longer drives were 
 £0
 
 COMING OUT. 301 
 
 open J and in them a variety of pretty 
 faces, or seemingly pretty faces, indis- 
 tinctly seen through the universally- worn 
 veil, formed a moving picture of pleasing 
 objects. Young men on horseback now 
 and then rode round one pf these at- 
 tractive equipages, or, crossing to them 
 from the foot-path, stood talking in at 
 their side. 
 
 '^' vin this way Alicia caught glimpses 
 of so many brilliant eyes coquettishly 
 shown for a moment by the gathering 
 back of the veils, and of so many coral 
 lips smiling through those curtains, that, 
 strange to say, she felt with pleasure her 
 boasted face would fail to strike here as 
 it had done in Waterfbrd. Nay, she 
 was so absorbed in pleased admiration of 
 others, that she soon lost all thought of 
 herself; therefore did not at first observe 
 that female parties on the trottoh\ and 
 carriages in the drive, were rapidly de- 
 serted, whilst Lady Donnington's ba- 
 rouche was gathered round by pedes- 
 trians, and passed and repassed by 
 horsemen.
 
 SOS COMING OUT. 
 
 She was quickly made to guess what 
 all this meant. Although the young 
 Fashionables, thus attracted, stretched 
 over each other to shake hands with, and 
 talk to Lady Donnington, their eyes 
 fastened on, or continually glanced at the 
 shrinking form of Alicia, just as their 
 different degrees of selfishness admitted. 
 Lady Donnington, enjoying the mis- 
 chievous amusement of tormenting, went 
 on uttering little jests about some ball 
 they had all met at the night before, 
 taking no notice of beseeching looks, or 
 0(f the muttered reproaches from one or 
 two, who kept saying, *' How very bar- 
 barous. Lady Donnington !" 
 
 Horseman after horseman stopped, and 
 swelled the troop round the carriage. 
 None of them addressed Alicia, because 
 none were presented to her ; therefore 
 she could not complain of being herself 
 the cause of such a novel crowd: but 
 conscious beauty, in spite of foregone 
 impressions, assured her she was looked 
 at admiiingly ; and the distress of such 
 consciousness only kindled a richer va- 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 308 
 
 riety of tints on her averted cheeks and 
 modest brow. 
 
 From her sprightly companion's dia- 
 logues with each new comer, she learnt, 
 that when Lady Donnington returned 
 from Brighton, she meant to surprise 
 every body with something quite new, 
 by way of entertainment : that she meant 
 also to circumscribe her parties at 
 Brighton to such a degree, that whoever 
 hoped to be asked to them must be ex- 
 ceedingly pleasant and well behaved, or 
 she would turn them over, without re- 
 morse, to " the Little Monster.'^ ^rit H- 
 
 Every sworn follower of Lady Don- 
 nington, and many who had hitherto va- 
 cillated between the two houses, of course 
 vehemently deprecated such a fate. At 
 the moment in which this elegant clamour 
 was at its height, Alicia's attention was 
 attracted from it by three equestrians, 
 who were walking their horses towards 
 them, and talking as audibly and gaily as 
 though riding in a private park. 
 
 One of this party was a young woman 
 of childish make and size, though fur-
 
 304< COMING OUT. 
 
 nished with a remarkable length of dark 
 cloth skirt, floating out to her beautiful 
 Arabian's feet. As she also wore a black 
 veil depending from her riding-hat, no- 
 thing was discernible of her face except 
 a set of very white teeth, which being 
 rather large, took a broad light whenever 
 she laughed, giving a most agreeable ex- 
 pression to her countenance. 
 
 ** O those teeth!" exclaimed Lady 
 Donnington, as the party were advanc- 
 ing ; " so like the China keys of my great 
 grandmother's old spinnet! — and that 
 tiresome voice — so exactly a chime of 
 bells !" 
 
 Alicia's ear, caught by that very voice, 
 thought it made most cheerful music ; 
 and as the slow-pacing equestrians ap- 
 proached, the pretty childishness of 
 broken English, coming with that music, 
 made it doubly pleasing. 
 
 " Why for doos Lord Charl call my 
 houze de merri Sherwood? Do say me, 
 my Lord. Won't you open de mouze ? 
 How can you be so unpleasing dis only 
 once !"
 
 COMING OUT. 305 
 
 Such was the lady's address to one of 
 the two gentlemen between whom she 
 was riding, who was no longer able to 
 answer : he seemed neither to hear nor 
 understand ; every sense locked up in 
 one, that of looking. 
 
 Lady Donnington, either observing his 
 fixed gaze, or her young friend's pleased 
 notice of his companion, said, in an under 
 tone, ** Pray don't look at the Polish 
 woman. Miss Barry." Alicia instantly 
 drew back, and, by so doing, checked 
 the advance of her new admirer, who was 
 in the act of guiding his horse close to 
 the barouche. 
 
 " Do tell my coachman to drive over 
 you all, and get me home," sa\d Lady 
 Donnington, addressing one of her hum- 
 ble servants, yet managing to be heard 
 much farther off. " If I hope to keep 
 Miss Barry with me, I must not begin by 
 tiring her to death." 
 
 The order, though not duly delivered, 
 being heard by her Ladyship's coachman, 
 was instantly obeyed. Equestrians and 
 pedestrians were scattered on each side
 
 306 COMING OUT. 
 
 of the rapidly-revolving wheels; even 
 Princess Azorinski and her gallant es- 
 corts were driven to a side. 
 
 Lady Donnington laughed again and 
 again, as the barouche whirled on, leav- 
 ing glasses raised, hands kissed, and 
 saunterers rendered stationary. She was 
 in a state of secret exaltation. " Why 
 for," she exclaimed, imitating the Polish 
 princess, *« does Lord Charl call my 
 houze de merri Sherwoode 1 What af- 
 fectation ! Is it not much too sickening, 
 Mi^s Barry, to see a thorough woman of 
 the world, like Madame Azorinski, pre- 
 tending to pass for a baby ? saying things, 
 just short of shocking sometimes, by way 
 of being pretty and naive? She knew 
 perfectly well what Lord Charles meant ; 
 she only wanted to be flattered in the 
 explanation." 
 
 "May I ask?" enquired Alicia: "I 
 know of no merry Sherwood except 
 Robin Hood's." 
 
 " Exactly the thing !" returned hei* 
 Ladyship. " My outlaws are her band ; 
 no very flattering compUment, I should
 
 COMING OUT. '^ SO7 
 
 think, after alL But her Altesse is so 
 entete with being told that the Hotel 
 Azorinski is as pleasant as living under 
 the greenwood bough with vagrants and 
 rd>bers, that she is thankful for the very 
 poorest creatures of any fashion that I 
 cast off. It is very well understood that 
 I will not patronise any body that goes 
 to her/' ibx^j ^ritf 'Sitj^- 
 
 Alicia's natural and direct enquiry of 
 whether there were any thing objection- 
 able in Madame Azorinski' s conduct, 
 forced Lady Donnington to imply such 
 a doubt of her correctness, that her 
 youthful companion pathetically lamented 
 the discordance of a bad character with 
 such an engaging countenance and tone 
 of voice. .^.>.. •, 
 
 Lady Donnington besought her not to 
 use such concessive phrases ; desiring her 
 to substitute doubtful for bad, when she 
 spoke next on the subject ; and not even 
 then except amongst confidential friends. 
 For as Madame Azorinski lived with her 
 husband, and he showed no jealousy, and 
 she had a society amongst persons of
 
 308 COMING OUT. 
 
 rank and character, people were bound 
 to suppose her spotless. 
 
 Without staying to construe the em- 
 phasis laid upon the word suppose, Alicia 
 exclaimed, " Indeed, I think so !" The 
 exclamation burst from her with genuine 
 self-honouring trust in her own sex. 
 
 " You will find yourself excessively 
 mistaken, then, I can tell you," replied 
 Lady Donnington, with sarcastic cool- 
 ness. " A husband is generally the very 
 last person told of his wife's misconduct ; 
 and a house is sometimes made so plea- 
 sant, by a clever, artful woman, to the 
 society she gets about her there, that 
 many of the most respectable, even, don't 
 like to break it up, by blowing upon her 
 character. Monsieur le Prince fills up 
 his day by giving treats and making 
 treaties ; while his little wife rides about 
 with her favourite male friends, giving 
 quadrilles and suppers, at which, for de- 
 cency's sake, she contrives to have her 
 old sposo present. However, she flirts 
 so furiously there, first with one, and 
 then with another, that her reputation is
 
 COMING OUT. 309 
 
 not perfect. I am really sorry whenever 
 I see a new man in her train : — that air 
 enjouee is so treacherous ! — I see it quite 
 took you in, as she passed." 
 
 Lady Donnington, finding she spake 
 with a bitterness of tone which betrayed 
 her personal enmity to Princess Azor- 
 inski, changing her manner, abruptly 
 asked Alicia if she did not know Lord 
 St. Lawrence? Alicia said she recoU 
 lected his having been brought to Castle 
 Barry two months before, but had totally 
 forgotten his person. Lady Donnington 
 was silent, while one of Princess Azor- 
 inski's escorts, who had not long before 
 ridden past the carriage, with a look at 
 Miss Barry which challenged recollection, 
 now repassed ; and, receiving neither en- 
 couraging look, nor gracious bend, slowly 
 rejoined his party. 
 
 Lady Donnington's repeated short 
 bursts of laughter prevented her from 
 saying who it was that had first galloped 
 by, then leisurely walked his horse back. 
 Alicia, therefore, saw only another well- 
 looking man, in a blue coat, in addition
 
 310 COMING OUT. 
 
 to others of the same description, who 
 had, for the last half hour, been hovering 
 about. Lady Donnington enlightened 
 her. 
 
 *< O! the delightful mortification of 
 not being recollected ! Lord St. Law- 
 rence positively not recollected! I flat- 
 tered myself you would not know him, 
 because he was with my aversion : but it 
 is sheer bad memory after all ! How plea- 
 sant ! Is it possible you did not think his 
 Lordship handsome enough to remember? 
 All the young ladies talk of him as an 
 Apollo. At least, I suppose' you remem- 
 ber that he is a grand partie /'* 
 
 Alicia had too often heard that phrase 
 from her mother to require an explan- 
 ation of it now; she merely observed 
 that she knew nothing of his Lordship. 
 
 ** And all /know of him," resumed her 
 Ladyship, " is, that he is getting vio- 
 lentlv into fashion, because he is so hand- 
 some, pleasant, rich, young, and his own 
 master. I *would not know him when he 
 came last spring to take his seat in the 
 House at his father's death ; for he had
 
 COMING OUT. 311 
 
 known that Polish woman somewhere 
 abroad, and she caught him up the mo- 
 ment he landed ; so my receiving him 
 was out of the question. People tell me 
 he is dying to get presented to me. You 
 saw how he rode past my carriage 1 " 
 
 Alicia's face had not a shade of doubt, 
 or of consciousness on it, while she said 
 she had observed this. 
 
 ** He will be in despair,*' continued 
 Lady Donnington, " when he finds I am 
 gone fi'om Brighton for a month. See if 
 I have not a dozen begging letters about 
 him, after we get to Birkham, asking me 
 to invite him to my tableaux on the first." 
 
 Knowing the literal meaning of the 
 French word used by Lady Donnington, 
 Alicia did not exactly understand what 
 it could imply on this occasion ; but as 
 any thing relating to mere parties was 
 at that moment indifferent to her, she let 
 it pass unnoticed ; asking, for the sake 
 of something to say, " Whether Lord St 
 Lawrence w^as to be always excluded." 
 
 " I have not settled that point j%t with 
 myself," returned Lady Donnington
 
 S12 COMING OUT. 
 
 with affected negligence. " One is rather 
 sorry for such a fine young man continu- 
 ing the dupe of that horrid fright of a 
 woman. However, if I do consent to 
 make his acquaintance, I beg, Miss Barry, 
 you will be properly grateful, as I assure 
 you it will be principally upon your ac- 
 count." 
 
 This was said with an air of pleasantry, 
 and a woman of the world would have 
 answered its serious demand upon her 
 acknowledgments by as adroit a mixture 
 of jest and earnest. Alicia simply said, 
 <« that she had not the smallest wish of re- 
 newing her five minutes' acquaintance 
 with Lord St. Lawrence, for she really 
 thought that five minutes was the extent 
 of her conversation with him at Castle 
 Barry : therefore her forgetting him was 
 quite natural. 
 
 Lady Donnington actually stared at 
 her for a moment or two, dumb from 
 astonishment ; then in a tone of vexation 
 exclaimed, not very civilly, ** I abhor all 
 trickery [ If persons are not honest and 
 upon honour with me, I have done with 
 
 1
 
 COMING OUT, 313 
 
 them : pray don't affect such impossible 
 ignorance, Miss Barry." 
 
 " Madam ! — Lady Donnington !" eja- 
 culated Alicia, turning pale, and in a tone 
 that made these mere appellations sound 
 like an enquiry into the meaning of the 
 words honour and honesty. There was 
 something in the fixture of her eyes which 
 denoted that her nature had a spark of 
 indignant feeling in it, which determined 
 insult would not only rouse but blow into 
 a flame. The woman of the world was 
 struck. 
 
 " I must suppose, then, my dear Miss 
 Barry," she resumed in a subdued voice, 
 " that you really are as very artless as 
 you appear ; that you know nothing of 
 fathers and mothers* natural wishes and 
 expectations. I am to believe that you 
 did not in the least understand I should 
 be glad if you honoured my chaperoning 
 by marrying well while staying with me. 
 Now, although this is extremely provok- 
 ing, I am determined to be very noble, 
 very magnanimous, and when Lord St. 
 Lawrence negotiates for the fiftieth time 
 
 VOL. I. r
 
 314 COMING OUT. 
 
 to be asked to my parties, I will ask 
 him/' 
 
 Alicia's whole person became on the 
 instant, as Lady Donnington's excla- 
 mation expressed, a perfect illumination, 
 so vividly bright shone the blood through 
 her transparent skin. She answered from 
 the indignant impulse of the moment ; 
 and perhaps neither so wisely nor so tem- 
 perately as it was possible to have done, 
 even under the guidance of the very de- 
 licacy which prompted her unguarded 
 expressions. 
 
 Disclaiming all thought of marriage 
 until won from present attachment to 
 her own beloved home by the most une- 
 quivocal preference, she declared that 
 could she systematically contemplate so 
 sacred a bond in any other way, she 
 should despise herself. The marriage 
 vow, she thought, did indeed bind a wo- 
 man to fidelity; but she could not see 
 what other respectable character it con- 
 ferred upon one who went to it with no 
 individuality of choice, except as the 
 rank or riches of a proposed partner at-
 
 COMING OUT. 315 
 
 traded inclination. The mere speculation 
 of marrying, admitted into a young wo- 
 man's habitual thoughts, she could not 
 but conceive, sullied the bloom of the 
 heart to a revolting degree. 
 
 Alicia had been hurried into such ex- 
 traordinary agitation, that tears started in 
 her eyes, and she added, in a paroxysm of 
 distress — " Opray allow me to go abroad 
 with mamma, Lady Donnington ! I am 
 not fit for the world — I know I am not. 
 I shall never be unmindful of your kind 
 intention ; but indeed, indeed, I had far 
 better be suffered to go with my mother 
 and sister.'* 
 
 Lady Donnington was not often moved 
 to extreme anger ; but at this moment of 
 unexpected opposition and possible dis- 
 comfiture, she was almost inclined to give 
 the speaker a box on the ear : so childish, 
 yet so provoking, did she consider her. 
 Mastering the mood, however, (for her 
 own idol self was at stake ; — her fashion I 
 her power ! ) and steadying her voice, 
 which would otherwise have vibrated 
 from vexation, she begged Miss Barry to 
 p 2
 
 316 COMING OUT. 
 
 say, whether there was any real breach 
 of decorum in the friends of a young lady 
 wishing to give her the same opportunity 
 of fixing her affections upon a man of 
 character, rank, and fortune, as upon one 
 without such qualifications ? Was she a 
 convert to the illiberal doctrine, that no 
 man of good birth (high birth, if she 
 pleased) was worthy a woman's heart ? 
 
 Alicia stammered out a denial of such 
 prejudice and folly. 
 
 *' Then did she think that sterling 
 good qualities and agreeable manners 
 were the worse for being united with title 
 and fortune ?" 
 
 *' Certainly not." 
 
 " Were two fates offered to her by 
 some benevolent fairy, w^ould she prefer 
 the man whose income barely gave her a 
 sufficiency, to one, with equal merit, whose 
 station in the world and ample fortune 
 enabled her to have all sorts of cha- 
 rity fancies (Lady Donnington, with a 
 smile, professed to divine Alicia's parti- 
 cular foible) ; to do multitudes of kind 
 things to friends and strangers, and to
 
 COMING OUT. 317 
 
 gratify her parents' natural wish on the 
 occasion?" 
 
 AHcia, with increased confusion, was 
 again forced to answer as her questioner 
 expected. 
 
 -Lady Donnington paused an instant, 
 then assuming one of her best-studied en- 
 gaging faces, and with a voice so softened, 
 that the tone was positively winning, 
 added playfully, " Now don't beat me. 
 Miss Barry, for putting a last question. 
 Have you not already been made love 
 to by some favourite admirer ? " 
 
 Alicia steadily answered " never ! " but 
 she was colourless. "Well, then, my 
 dear Miss Barry," exclaimed the victo- 
 rious I^ady Donnington, " what is the 
 quarrel between us? and why are you to 
 run away from me, to avoid the scores of 
 admirers, whom you will have my free 
 leave to dismiss, one after another, when- 
 ever they make the proposal ? I am much 
 mistaken, by the way, if Mrs. Barry would 
 leave you so perfectly your own mistress. 
 So far am I from desiring to have the 
 slightest share in disposing of your pretty 
 p 3
 
 
 318 COMING OUT. 
 
 hand, that I beg never to hear one of 
 your love-stories : don't let me have any- 
 thing to do with accepting or refusing ; 
 refer all the men to your own family; 
 only be upon honour with me, and don't 
 V^ use any men ill that you meet at my 
 house." 
 
 Alicia's expressive look asked what 
 Lady Donnington meant. 
 
 " I mean to say, don't thoughtlessly 
 lead a man on, by encouragement, and 
 then deliberately refuse him, or you will 
 get me into a scrape. If you fairly promise 
 this, I will as faithfully engage never to 
 speak a word in favour of any man what- 
 ever, be he rich or poor, lord or commoner. 
 You shall be free to like and dislike un- 
 questioned ; and I must be free to have 
 whom I please at my parties : so if the 
 w^him takes me, after all, to invite Lord 
 St. Lawrence to my tableaux , you must 
 allow me for once to suppose that I may 
 be good-naturedly taking a man out of 
 one danger, without running him into 
 another." 
 
 The significance of Lady Donnington's
 
 COMING OUT. 319 
 
 countenance and tone were not to be 
 mistaken ; and, blushing anew with the 
 humiliating idea of having been too quick 
 in her apprehensions, AUcia stammered 
 out some words of apology and con- 
 cession. 
 
 Lady Donnington then appeared to 
 understand that everything between them 
 was amicably settled ; and, as they came 
 in sight of the hotel, said gaily, " Well, 
 now we understand each other : you are 
 to be very good, and do whatever I bid 
 you, by way of making yourself pleasant 
 in society ; and I am to be very good, 
 and not say a syllable by way of recom- 
 mendation of any of your swarm of ad- 
 mirers, that are to be. If you don't take a 
 fancy to any of them, so much the better 
 for me : I shall avoid all the fuss of a 
 marriage, lawyers and the lover, papers 
 and the papa.'* 
 
 Alicia could not oppose one valid ob- 
 jection to this seemingly fair proposal, 
 nor refuse ratifying the amnesty offered 
 by her opponent : she tried to smile, 
 while acknowledging its graciousness ; 
 p 4
 
 3^0 COMING OUT. 
 
 but her heart was oppressed by a painful 
 conviction, that from her mother indeed, 
 as Lady Donnington had recently said, 
 her scruples would have met with a dif- 
 ferent reception. 
 
 Yet she anticipated little gratification 
 during her visit. Lady Donnington's or- 
 dinary manner was chilHng to her ; and 
 the caressing tone that lady sometimes 
 assumed never seemed to reach her heart. 
 She felt afraid of what she was going to 
 encounter ; not because she believed the 
 gay scenes of fashionable life would dis- 
 gust her always ; but from dreading that 
 tliey might gradually become too fasci- 
 nating, and obliterate tastes which were 
 the dearer by association with the friends 
 of her childhood. 
 
 Altogether, her heart was very heavy, 
 and she listened in spiritless silence to 
 her voluble companion's recapitulation 
 of all that was to be ready with her own 
 proper self on the next day, for the ex- 
 cursion to Berkshire. 
 
 While Alicia slowly entered the hotel. 
 Lady Donnington drove off, felicitating 
 
 \
 
 COMING OUT. 321 
 
 herself upon the success of her plan for 
 utterly extinguishing the fashion of the 
 hotel Azorinski. 
 
 The nature of Lady Donnington's pre- 
 sent triumph, and future expectations, 
 must now be explained. Princess Azo- 
 rinski had not been in England two 
 months when, by favour of her acknow- 
 ledged ugliness, and unceasing good hu- 
 mour, she turned the tide of popularity 
 at once from Lady Donnington. The 
 women were thrown off their guard by 
 her want of beauty, and the men were 
 taken by her harmless spirits. This 
 agreeable foreigner, living as easily in her 
 own house as if it were an hotel, made 
 it in very deed as easy to others. There 
 was no trick in her frank surrender of all 
 right over her guests ; a trick which tact 
 is so often called upon to find out, and 
 covertly propitiate ; and which many 
 practise, who profess the gracious creed 
 of " letting every body go their own 
 way." 
 
 Always pleased, always pleasurable; 
 suffering every one to come and go at 
 p 6
 
 32£ COMHSTG OUT. 
 
 will : controlling no one — managing no 
 one — exacting no sacrifices; her husband 
 giving the best dinners, and she the gayest 
 balls imaginable, — Princess Azorinski al- 
 most gained the affections of her society, 
 because she never dreamt of meriting 
 any thing at their hands ; every thing she 
 did was gratuitous and uncalculating. 
 
 This conduct, emanating from a dispo- 
 sition of such pure kindliness, as it aimed 
 solely at the point of making others 
 happy, only wanted enlightening, to take 
 a far different direction ; and to labour 
 as strenuously to do good, as it now did to 
 promote pleasure. 
 
 The same sacred light would have 
 shown her, that the very pleasures she thus 
 disinterestedly procured for, and shared 
 with a crowd of various characters, were, 
 from their frequency and zest, so many 
 snares to them and to herself: she was, 
 however, as yet too young, too unreflect- 
 ing, and too ill-guarded by her husband, 
 to see any danger under the flowers she 
 was strewing over so many persons' paths 
 as well as her own. The Prince enjoyed 
 20
 
 COMING OUT. 3^8 
 
 seeing her admired, in spite of that comic 
 mal-arrangement of small eyes and a wide 
 mouth, which had struck even him, before 
 her engaging hilarity won his heart : he 
 was forty, she was three-and- twenty, when 
 they came to England : three years of 
 happy married life had assured him both 
 of his wife's affection and honour ; and, 
 yielding to the vanity of seeing the wo- 
 man who preferred him surrounded by 
 much younger admirers, he was not suf- 
 ficiently careful either of her reputation 
 or of her safety. 
 
 Lady Donnington was not unmindful 
 of this : she set herself upon the watch 
 for some tangible misconduct in the 
 Princess, from the moment in which the 
 latter began to be talked of, as *' that 
 charming grown baby ! " At the precise 
 instant in which the town were divided 
 between Donnington-House and the hotel 
 Azorinski, when Lady Donnington was 
 alternately railing at and ridiculing ** the 
 little monster," and when every one con- 
 nected with either was either a partisan or 
 an enemy; the young Ear] of St. Lawrence 
 p 6
 
 324< COMING OUT. 
 
 arrived in England from the Continent, 
 to take his seat in the upper house. His 
 arrival set the seal to Lady Donnington's 
 hatred of the unthinking foreigner. 
 
 Although the new peer (for his father 
 was recently dead) had spent above six 
 years out of his own country, his reput- 
 ation for elegance, taste^ and accomplish- 
 ments had been continually coming over 
 from the Continent, with every returned 
 traveller or diplomatist. Men of cultivated 
 minds looked for brilliant coteries of an 
 intellectual kind at his house; persons of 
 mere taste for the highest luxuries in their 
 line ; the }oung of both sexes antici- 
 pated every sort of exquisite assembly ; 
 while provident parents speculated upon 
 their daughters' chance of securing the 
 earl, his fortune and his accomplishments 
 to boot. 
 
 Every one waited, therefore, in breath- 
 less expectation for his casting vote, to 
 decide between the rival houses. 
 
 The very first night of Lord St. Law- 
 rence's arrival in London, he was seen 
 in Madame Azorinski's box at the Opera j
 
 COMING OUT. 325 
 
 after which, so far from seeking Lady 
 Donnington's acquaintance, he had more 
 than once been heard to wonder how she 
 could have acquired her former popularity; 
 as her dragooning system appeared to 
 him the very reverse of what men, at least, 
 permitted themselves to yield to. 
 
 This remark was sure to get round to 
 Lady Donnington, inspiring her with the 
 strongest aversion, not so much to the 
 original speaker of it, as to the innocent 
 person whose different manner she could 
 not but suppose suggested the censure. 
 From that moment her whole existence 
 became a perpetual rack of schemes and 
 disappointments. First, she tried to ridi- 
 cule the Polish Princess, and jest that 
 lady's admirers into being ashamed of 
 their admiration ; then to throw contempt 
 upon the worshippers themselves ; then 
 to excite suspicion of her character 
 amongst jealous or newly-married wives, 
 mothers afraid of having their daughters 
 put by in her company, and credulous 
 young women eager for the love of the 
 very man whose probable liaison with
 
 3^6 COMING OUT. 
 
 another man's wife they were anxious to 
 break. 
 
 This policy for some time retarded 
 Princess Azorinski's ascent to the throne 
 of entire dominion, throwing confusion 
 amongst her subjects. Whilst many yet 
 held ak)of) suspending their decision, and 
 unsworn to either, Lord St. Lawrence 
 withdrew his weight in the scale for 
 awhile, by going over to Ireland. Lady 
 Donnington hoped that her enemy's 
 spell was broken ; but his Lordship re- 
 turned, and soon afterwards was heard 
 of at Prince Azorinski's villa near Lon- 
 don. She went herself to Brighton : 
 thither the hated foreigner followed; 
 thither also came Lord St. Lawrence. 
 
 To Lady Donnington's hai'd-judging 
 mind, it was now evident that Lord 
 St. Lawrence was Madame Azorinski's 
 lover, in the full sense of that term, as 
 understood by English women, when ap- 
 plied to the favoured male friend of an 
 unprincipled married coquette. She, 
 therefore, hoped that such short-lived
 
 COMING OUT. 3^7 
 
 power would soon terminate, and disgust, 
 as usual, follow. 
 
 Nothing like this, however, happened. 
 Lord St. Lawrence was as much with 
 Prince and Princess Azorinski as for- 
 merly; nay, more than formerly. He 
 was at all the Prince's dinners, and the 
 Princess's parties ; he spent whole even- 
 ings with them in private, and rode out 
 with them, separately or together, gene- 
 rally every day. Lady Donnington had 
 no resource but fervently wishing they 
 might go off together, and so pull the 
 edifice at once upon their own heads. 
 A sudden ray broke in upon her three 
 days before she penned the memorable 
 epistle to Mrs. Barry : it came in the 
 shape of a report from one of her secret- 
 service people. 
 
 This genteel spy, or contractor fbr 
 gossip, had been at a private view of 
 some very fine pictures destined for sale ; 
 and, chancing to be near Lord St. Law- 
 rence, when one by a Spanish painter 
 was under review, described his Lord- 
 ship's raptures at sight of it, by way of
 
 328 COMING OUT. 
 
 covertly showing that such a vivid ad- 
 mirer of beauty could not be long the 
 slave of Madame Azorinski. vStruck by 
 one name her informant uttered, Lady 
 Donnington made him repeat his story, 
 her own thoughts meanwhile rapidly 
 sketching out a plan of operations in 
 consequence. The substance of this in- 
 formation was, that while two friends, 
 with Lord St. Lawrence, were exclaim- 
 ing at the perfection of a single female 
 figure meant for the shepherdess Mar- 
 cella, in Cervantes's interesting tale of 
 Christopher, the Earl him self j after 
 eagerly exclaiming at its likeness to a 
 lovely creature he had seen in Ireland, 
 declared that even so, this exquisite com- 
 bination of form and colouring was but 
 like a copy of Titian's finest picture by 
 an inferior artist, when compared with 
 the breathing beauty and softer grace of 
 Alicia Barry. 
 
 Lady Donnington was now mistress of 
 a charm for Lord St. Lawrence, and, as 
 she hoped, a stiletto for Princess Azo- 
 rinski' s power. The despised letter from 
 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 329 
 
 Mrs. Barry, which, when received, had 
 been once glanced over, then laughed at, 
 and finally forgotten in tempestuous pas- 
 sions of envy and hatred, was now re- 
 called by a strenuous effort of memory. 
 Then, thinking it better to insure grati- 
 tude for voluntary kindness, instead of 
 humihating herself by making false ex- 
 cuses, her Ladyship wrote to invite Miss 
 Barry on a long visit to her, trusting for 
 absolution of past rudeness to Mrs. 
 Barry's ready supposition that her ma- 
 ternal epistle had miscarried. 
 
 The momentous invitation had gone — 
 the invitation had been rapturously ac- 
 cepted — this lovelier Marcella was 
 come — was seen — and Lord St. Law- 
 rence had already left the side of Prin- 
 cess Azorinski, to ride twice past Lady 
 Donnington's barouche. 
 
 To have Lord St. Lawrence's imagin- 
 ation set to work by this unexpected ap- 
 parition, and to produce Alicia afterwards 
 with brilliant effect; to enjoy the triumph 
 of receiving incessant letters of petition 
 on his account, Lady Donnington pur-
 
 350 , COMING OUT. 
 
 posed prolonging her stay at Birkham 
 until within a day or two of the evening 
 destined for opening her marine villa. 
 By the time Lord St. Lawrence should 
 have made application for a card for her 
 tableaux through as many channels as 
 were necessary to establish her power 
 and insure her rival's fall, she knew it 
 w-ould be wise in her to relent, and not 
 only admit the young Earl to her house, 
 but to render it as enchanting as 
 possible. 
 
 For this cause, she had condescended 
 to reason with the little simpleton (lest 
 open anger or contempt should rouse her 
 to the resolution of actually accompany- 
 ing her mother abroad), and had readily 
 c^ered to take no part in promoting any 
 man's suit for her favour. Thus gladly 
 absolving herself from the implied en- 
 gagement of taking an interest in the 
 business of her happy settlement, and 
 using the trust reposed in her by a ere- 
 dulous mother solely for her own selfish 
 purpose. 
 
 Elated with present success, and the
 
 COMING OUT. 331 
 
 prospect of future triumph, Lady Don- 
 nington may be left to drive back alone 
 to her hired house. 
 
 Mrs. Barry, being under her maid's 
 hands for a slight alteration in her dress, 
 was not in her sitting-room when Alicia 
 returned. The sisters met with more 
 than their usual flow of affection. Poor 
 Flora was not one of those passionate 
 persons who lay claim to the merit of 
 immediately forgetting their own vio- 
 lence ; erecting upon such a monstrous 
 claim a character for goodness of heart. 
 She felt that the merit of such forge t- 
 fulness belongs solely to the person w/io 
 lias suffered the outrage. Therefore, with 
 bitter tears and true contrition, she sat 
 watching for her sister's return ; and 
 counting every moment until she might 
 acknowledge her sense of faultiness by 
 one silent long embrace. Well did she 
 know the placable and tender bosom 
 upon which she now threw herselfj 
 smothering a sob under the kiss of 
 welcome. 
 
 Alicia's forgiveness was unfeigned.
 
 332 COMING OUT. 
 
 and ever outran the penitence of the 
 offender : it waited not for a single con- 
 fession of self-blame. Always anxious 
 to spare her sister's stiff-necked pride 
 the humiliation of concession, she has- 
 tened to relate all she had seen during 
 her drive through Brighton. Their 
 mother's immediate entrance obliged her 
 to recommence this detail. 
 
 Mrs. Barry was so wedded to her 
 notion that the gay world only wanted 
 to be known to become an object of 
 passionate desire, and that consequently 
 Alicia would soon be ready to pay any 
 price for remaining in it, that, after get- 
 ting over her panic at Alicia's first part 
 in the dialogue between her and Lady 
 Donnington, she guaranteed all which 
 this new friend had promised on the 
 score of her daughter's freedom of 
 choice. 
 
 Something, however, was to be con- 
 ceded by Alicia in return : and this was, 
 the promise of making it her study to 
 please Lady Donnington ; never to hold 
 back from any of her Ladyship's plans
 
 COMING OUT. S33 
 
 of amusement, or to demur about doing 
 what every body else did ; not to make 
 excuses for staying at home when Lady 
 Donnington wanted her to go out; to 
 conciliate all the persons Lady Donning- 
 ton liked ; and not to make acquaintance 
 with any one she disliked : of course, to 
 avoid Princess Azorinski. 
 
 Upon the subject of Lord St. Law- 
 rence, Mrs. Barry constrained herself to 
 a marvel : she was so convinced that he 
 had ridden to and fro past Lady Don- 
 nington's barouche for the beatia: yeux of 
 her daughter, that it did indeed require 
 very great exertions to suppress some 
 outward show of her exultation. But 
 Mrs. Barry was beginning to read the 
 character of her now-important child ; 
 and, having the whole family interests at 
 stake, was gifted with sufficient cunning 
 to act adroitly when properly stimulated : 
 she therefore affected just to recollect 
 that he was very gentlemanly. The insi- 
 nuations of the Mr. Donovans were for- 
 gotten, or only remembered to be dis- 
 believed ; so easy and accommodating
 
 S34f COMING OUT. 
 
 were Mrs. Barry's judgments upon every 
 occasion in which persons of rank were 
 implicated. 
 
 Grateful for her mother's apparent 
 sanction of her own peculiar views with 
 regard to marriage, Ahcia promised obe- 
 dience in all minor concerns ; yet ven- 
 tured, ere she plunged into a vortex (^ 
 expense, to state the dread she had ofit, 
 as being criminally wasteful ; instancing 
 the fantastic extravagance proposed by 
 Lady Donnington of a man servant for 
 her alone. * 
 
 Mrs. Barry paused a moment, then 
 brightening up, said she was confident 
 Lady Donnington would not propose 
 any thing that was not right ; that every 
 body knew there were young ladies who 
 frequently went visiting about, as little 
 considered as regular companions or 
 practised toad-eaters, simply because they 
 were not rich enough to dress themselves 
 or have a maid for themselves ; and that 
 most likely Lady Donnington was kindly 
 determined to put it out of the power of 
 the greatest ill-nature to represent Alicia
 
 COMING OUT. 335 
 
 as any thing else than the daughter of a 
 man of fortune, by thus bringing her out 
 in the first style of elegance and propriety. 
 Indeed, Mrs. Barry could never be suffi- 
 ciently grateful to this charming friend, 
 for so much consideration. Mrs. Barry 
 added, that as, at the most, these new ex- 
 penses would only be for a few months, 
 — as she would merely have to pay the 
 wages of a man and maid, and milliners, 
 and mantua-makers' bills, — such could 
 not ruin any body, nor displease any 
 body ; so Alicia might complacently 
 leave it all to be settled between her fa- 
 ther and her distinguished chaperon, after 
 the former returned from Jamaica. 
 
 Alicia still pressed for some positive 
 and moderate sum to be specified to Lady 
 Donnington, as that within which Colo- 
 nel and Mrs, Barry would like their 
 daughter's expenses to be confined. She 
 protested with a starting tear, that she 
 would far rather have this squandered 
 money sent to Marcus to purchase him 
 on in the army, and so hasten his return, 
 than laid out upon her flowers and gauzes.
 
 336 COMING OUT. 
 
 Nay, she added, that, however large her 
 dear father's income might be, she knew 
 of so much more want and misery in 
 their own country than she had ever been 
 allowed the means of relieving, that to 
 spend excessively upon herself, seemed 
 to her an actual sin. 
 
 Flora, who had hitherto curbed her im- 
 patience to enter into this discussion, 
 now vehemently seconded her sister's 
 gentler persuasions ; intermixing this with 
 so many eager enquiries about the manner 
 of Lord St. Lawrence, and so many art- 
 less reproaches to Alicia for having for- 
 gotten the features of one so very kind to 
 her, that Mrs. Barry, half wearied out by 
 importunity, half won by foreseeing Flora's 
 influential interference for her destined 
 son-in-law, at length agreed to write a 
 polite note of farewell to Lady Donning- 
 ton for Alicia to give in the morning, in 
 which she would manage to name the 
 sum limited. What that was, Mrs. 
 Barry giddily and gaily refused to say ; 
 but she put a bank note into her daugh- 
 ter's hand for use upon momentary occa-
 
 COMING OUT. 337 
 
 sions of amusement or charity, and got 
 rid of the subject, by welcoming the dif- 
 ferent members of the family she was to 
 go with to France, as they entered to 
 dine together. 
 
 A well-covered table when surrounded 
 by Irish people is almost always a joyous 
 one. Sir Luke Ponsonby and his three 
 daughters were thoroughly Irish, in spi- 
 rits, good-humour, and good-heartedness. 
 They were not yet sufficiently used to 
 their lovely countrywoman's beauty to 
 see it without clamorous admiration 5 and 
 not even the presence of their servants 
 could restrain the father's complimentary 
 jests and the daughters' repeated pro- 
 phecies during dinner. Before the even- 
 ing ended, they had severally married 
 their dear girl to every great name in 
 the Red Book ; which, happening to lie 
 conveniently on a table, was perseveringly 
 resorted to by the merry Baronet, purely 
 for the sake of laughing at Alicia's 
 blushes. While Flora was alternately 
 showing herself vexed and pleased at this 
 coarse tribute to the sister she idolized, 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 838 COMING OUT. 
 
 Mrs. Barry was perforce calculating the 
 comparatively small sum left by her hus- 
 band for division between her wants and 
 those of their eldest daughter, and think- 
 ing whether it would not be advisable to 
 accept an offer made to her in private by 
 Sir Luke Ponsonby that day. 
 
 This was, to leave Flora at a French 
 Protestant school in Normandy, and ac- 
 cept for herself all the accommodations of 
 free travelling and free living at the 
 hands of Sir Luke Ponsonby. She made 
 herself sure that her pocket expenses, 
 while flying about sight-seeing at Paris, 
 with three prodigal persons like the Ba- 
 ronet and his two grown-up daughters, 
 would be trifling, and that Flora, left at 
 the same seminary with the youngest, 
 would be quite as happy as with her. 
 Mrs. Barry could make up her mind to 
 sacrifice her respectability, but not her 
 pleasures, to her children's advancement ; 
 so, conceiving that Alicia's sovereign cha- 
 peron would have no mercy upon the 
 family purse, she determined to barter 
 her independence for the next four or
 
 COMING OUT. 339 
 
 ^ve months ; and under cover of " kindly 
 joining the poor motherless Miss Pon- 
 sonbys/' acquire a mean of visiting Paris 
 free of cost. 
 
 Poor Flora little guessed the fate that 
 awaited her : happily she did not ; or 
 the reluctance vi^ith which she said fare- 
 well to her sister on the morrow, when 
 Lady Donnington's packed-up carriage, 
 and packed-up self, stopped at the door, 
 would have amounted to resistance. 
 
 Deceived by the idea that her dearly- 
 loved Flora was first to go to Paris with 
 her mother, and then to settle with her at 
 Madame Maronville's, Alicia consoled 
 herself for this separation, by supposing 
 the lively interest her sister would take 
 in all the memorable places of a capital 
 haunted by the memory of great events 
 as well as of fearful crimes : in each 
 other's letters she thought they would still 
 continue to feel and to think together; 
 and she therefore smilingly desired Flora 
 to write her long and frequent accounts 
 of all she saw. She kissed the weeping 
 Q 2
 
 340 COMING OUT. 
 
 girl again and again, inwardly aff'ected 
 herself; yet solicitous to cheer Flora, 
 and awaken her drooping spirits to plea- 
 surable expectation. From her mother 
 she did not part tearfully, because her 
 mother jested at her two silly children, as 
 she called them, for crying at what would 
 make other girls wild with joy, and w^as 
 in a hurry to get her away. Mrs. Barry 
 indeed wished her daughter gone, be- 
 cause, like many other weak yet obstinate 
 persons, she did not choose to have her 
 new plan questioned, and was every mo- 
 ment afraid that something might slip 
 from her unawares which would show 
 her old plans were changed. 
 
 After another hasty clasp of Flora, 
 Alicia went down stairs and got into 
 Lady Donnington's carriage, with a thank- 
 ing bend of the head to her mother's old 
 servant, who stood sorrowfully bowing at 
 not having been thought good enough to 
 be left with his young lady. One short 
 catch of the breath, as the equipage drove 
 off, contained Alicia's latest farewell to 
 those she left behind ; and a hastv bow
 
 COMING OUT. 34fl 
 
 from her companion answered Mrs. Bar- 
 ry's kissing of hands at the hotel window. 
 
 After a few words of salutation, AUcia 
 gave her mother's note to Lady Don- 
 nington, w^ho read it somewhat cursorily, 
 muttered *' O, very well!" and imme- 
 diately entered into conversation upon 
 the trivial concerns of their journey. 
 
 First, her Ladyship described her own 
 house at Birkham ; then the resources a 
 romantic or reading young lady would 
 find there ; then spoke of the exquisite 
 French maid she had actually stolen 
 from a fine friend for her, and the steady 
 man-servant they were to find by the 
 time they returned to Brighton. After 
 the mention of a French maid, French 
 fashions were canvassed, and their greatest 
 patronisers along with them. Both hats 
 and manners came in for much of Lady 
 Donnington's sarcastic pleasantry. Dur- 
 ing this discussion, Alicia, in spite of her 
 better judgment, was amused by the 
 mixed liveliness and bitterness of the anec- 
 dotes thus related. When the day was half 
 over, the peeress, all at once, declared she 
 Q 3
 
 342 COMING OUT. 
 
 thought it a bright idea to go to sleep, 
 and recommending AHcia to follow her 
 example, literally either slept or dozed 
 all the remainder of the way to her 
 country house. 
 
 At Birkham, Alicia found extensive 
 plantations to roam over; innumerable 
 popular works to smile or weep at ; a 
 richly-furnished green-house to haunt, 
 and make herself familiar with exotics 
 unknown to her before ; and a respect- 
 able housekeeper to consult when she 
 wished to turn her many leisure hours to 
 usefulness for the poor. 
 
 Thus employed, she scarcely missed 
 companionship, although Lady Donning- 
 ton did, as she had professed she would, 
 devote her whole day to business. 
 
 Lady Donnington being, in addition 
 to her other qualifications, a farmer of 
 no mean ability, and ably uniting a pas- 
 sion for show with a talent for accu- 
 mulation, lived in a riding-habit when at 
 Birkham during certain seasons, from 
 the hour of rising to that of dressing for 
 dinner. At that meal she always ap-
 
 COMING OUT. 343 
 
 peared in the most elegant home-cos- 
 tume ; so that AHcia, habituated to the 
 same regular change of apparel, and 
 assisted by her French maid, quickly 
 succeeded in fixing a style of dress for 
 herself, quite satisfactory to Lady Don- 
 nington, and agreeable to her own taste. 
 
 Two or three country families had the 
 honour of contributing their young ladies 
 to the Birkham *« petticoat party," when- 
 ever Lady Donnington chose to get up 
 a quadrille, for the sake of rehearsing 
 Miss Barry's exoellence in the attractive 
 art of dancing. 
 
 As Alicia understood that these quad- 
 rilles were given to break the monotony 
 of Birkham for her sake ; and as dancing 
 was, indeed, her favourite exercise, she 
 felt obliged to Lady Donnington, and 
 thought the kind intention deserved at 
 least to be met by a show of pleasure in 
 its existence. 
 
 Lady Donnington was enchanted to 
 
 find that even a mother's partiality had 
 
 not exaggerated the grace and gaiety of 
 
 Alicia's movements, nor the heightened 
 
 Q 4
 
 344 COMING OUT. 
 
 beauty of her face, when the bounding' 
 step and the all-awakened look were 
 called forth by the joyous sound of 
 music. She looked upon these with the 
 earnest observation of a manager calcu- 
 lating his probable gains from a new 
 actor's talents. Her house was falling 
 off in attraction ; its frequenters wanted 
 some great star to bring them back : the 
 lion of a night would not do ; she must 
 secure some permanent loadstone. In 
 this young and lovely and accomplished 
 creature she fancied she had found all 
 she required ; since the admiration her 
 beauty inspired would be kept up by 
 rivalry for her notice 5 and that, from her 
 mixed unconsciousness and apprehensive 
 delicacy, would be so long withheld from 
 any man, that it would be long sought 
 for. Lord St. Lawrence's worship of the 
 new beauty would insure a crowd of 
 worshippers. Lord St. Lawrence, and 
 others like him, conquered from Princess 
 Azorinski, was the whole aim of Lady 
 Donnington's scheme : after that, Miss 
 Barry might be left to ** wither on the
 
 COMING OUT. 345 
 
 virgin bough/' in the bosom of her own 
 family, or accept her only serious suitor 
 when her visit and her high thoughts 
 might be equally closing. 
 
 A woman of the world was too well 
 informed to imagine the probability of 
 a very splendid marriage for one wholly 
 unconnected with any family of note ; 
 yet she foresaw that all the richest and 
 noblest would be foremost in the train of 
 Alicia's idolaters ; and she had the hard- 
 heartedness never to ask herself what 
 wreck might therefore ensue to the poor 
 young creature's peace. 
 
 As this unfeeling woman predicted, 
 letters of petition were daily arriving from 
 Brighton, describing Lord St. Lawrence's 
 ardent desire of being presented to her 
 on her return, and begging a card of 
 invitation for him to her house-opening 
 on the 1st of December. 
 
 These letters from different noble per- 
 sons were regularly shown with affected 
 indifference by Lady Donnington to her 
 companion ; and there being no allusion 
 to the latter in any one of them (so well 
 Q 5
 
 S4f6 COMING OtTT. 
 
 did the peer and the peeress seem match- 
 ed in the art of finesse), AHcia ceased 
 to think of Lord St. Lawrence in any 
 way connected with herself. This was 
 exactly the point to which Lady Don- 
 iiington wished her brought, lest remem- 
 brance of their former discourse about 
 him might conjure up some incon- 
 venient scruples as to the very exhi- 
 bition for which she destined her unsus- 
 pecting protegee. 
 
 Very soon after their arrival at Birk- 
 ham, Lady Donnington had amused 
 AUcia by explaining the nature of the 
 entertainment with which she was going 
 to delight " her intimate friends'* (the 
 assistants, her intimate friends,) on the 
 lirst of the next month. This entertain- 
 ment was to consist of a succession of 
 tableaux, represented by living person- 
 ages properly dressed and grouped, so as 
 to form exact fac-similes of certain ad- 
 mired pictures, either historical or por- 
 traits. As the great charm of these re- 
 presentations consisted in the real like- 
 ness of each breathing figure to its ori-
 
 COMING OUT. 347 
 
 ginal on the lifeless canvass, Lady Don- 
 nington had been at infinite pains to se- 
 lect her company of exhibitors, and to 
 exercise them in the indispensable duties 
 of duly arranging their draperies, and 
 remaining fixed in one attitude. 
 
 Alicia's curiosity was roused, and her 
 taste delighted, by the description of an 
 amusement entirely novel to her, even in 
 description, and dignified by its alliance 
 with genius. She eagerly questioned 
 Lady Donnington about its inventor, and 
 those who were to exemplify it at her 
 house ; and was still more surprised and 
 pleased, when told that every one of the 
 young men and women who would thus 
 embody the ideas of Raphael and Van- 
 dyke, were the most distinguished of all 
 whom Lady Donnington had been speak- 
 ing of to her through the last week, and 
 were even now training in secret for the 
 representation at her Brighton residence. 
 
 Lady Donnington confessed that she 
 
 neither knew nor cared about the name 
 
 of the inventor ; she only knew that it 
 
 was a favourite amusement at Vienna, 
 
 Q 6
 
 348 COMING OUT. 
 
 and that she was now going to bring it 
 up in England. A Hst of the pictures to 
 be imitated was then shown to Ahcia, 
 who, finding in it the names of two or 
 three which she knew by engravings, and 
 deeply felt the beauties of, became nearly 
 as impatient as Lady Donnington herself 
 for the night on which she was to see 
 them. 
 
 Lady Donnington had already fami- 
 liarised her with the names of all the 
 lords and ladies who were to figure in 
 her gallery o^ tableaux ; and, having once 
 excited a lively thirst for the exhibition, 
 at once broke off* a conversation one 
 evening, by the fire-side, by exclaiming, 
 " Don't fancy, Miss Barry, that I shall 
 allow any human being to be idle on the 
 first, who is at all worthy of being made 
 useful. I mean to have you in a tableaux, 
 I know a picture so exactly like you, that 
 appear in a tableaux you must, and shall. 
 Don't attempt to say no. Have I not a 
 right to expect common complacency 
 from you, in return for my excessive 
 good-nature, in promising to make your
 
 COMING OUT. S4}9 
 
 family my enemies for life (most likely), 
 by never urging a certain subject ?" 
 
 Alicia was dismayed, even to the utter 
 incapacity of speaking. Lady Donning- 
 ton assumed the fact of consent, and went 
 on: — 
 
 *' Victoire sav/ the picture before we 
 left Brighton ; she knows how to dress 
 you. You will have nothing in the world 
 to do but look pensive and pretty over a 
 bier, as if you were going to a fancy-ball 
 in the character. Indeed, you will only 
 stand for ten minutes in your dress in the 
 tabkauj" ; and at the ball you must walk 
 about and look silly the wliole night." 
 
 Any thing like a regular exhibition of 
 her person was so abhorrent to Alicia, 
 that she would immediately and vehe- 
 mently have refused to share in the pre- 
 sent one, had she been able to find a fit 
 way of doing it : but Lady Donnington 
 had so artfully entrapped her into ex- 
 pressing hasty opinions, of which she saw 
 all the fallacy when she must apply tliem 
 to herself, that she knew not what to 
 answer. How could she object, on the
 
 350 COMING OUT. 
 
 score of womanly delicacy, when, in her 
 eagerness for her own gratification, she 
 had been so far from expressing distaste 
 of the young ladies who were to compose 
 the groups, that she had actually praised 
 their good-nature ? Alicia felt then how 
 faithful had been the admonitions of 
 Jocelyn Hastings, when he taught her to 
 watch the subtle movements of selfish- 
 ness within her own breast. She had 
 just been ready to accept pleasure at the 
 cost of other women's proper reserve, 
 without even pausing to regret that they 
 were thus forced out of it, or insensible 
 to its respectability. 
 
 Though overcome by this thought, and 
 by a recollection of her mother's com- 
 mand that she would comply with all 
 Lady Donnington's wishes, she did arti- 
 culate a few sentences of extreme repug- 
 nance J expressing, in addition, the con- 
 sciousness of great awkwardness when 
 nervously agitated ; confessing total ig- 
 norance of such performances, and the 
 conviction that she would never be able 
 to preserve the same attitude for any time.
 
 COMING OUT. 551 
 
 These objections Lady Donnington 
 would neither admit nor attend to ; but 
 so determinately urged her right to judge 
 best what her young friend could do well, 
 or, at least, look well ; and so successfully 
 employed ridicule, to show her the vanity 
 of fancying she would be so much more 
 noticed than ** the beauteous Lady Hya- 
 cinth Vavasour," that poor Alicia, what 
 between vexation and submission, for- 
 getting that beauty or ugliness made no 
 difference in a question of maidenly deli- 
 cacy, uttered the desired assent. 
 
 The French maid who had been hired 
 for Miss Barry, because she would make 
 all her dresses in the most perfect taste, 
 and at half the expense of Madame 
 
 , was hastily called in, to exhibit 
 
 a pencil sketch of the picture in question, 
 provided for the present moment. She 
 not only undertook to make a correct 
 copy of Marcella's picturesque habit, but 
 to represent the corse of the unfor- 
 tunate lover, by her own proper person, 
 extended upon a bier, and covered to the 
 chin by a pall. Victoire, from her dark
 
 352 COMING OUT. 
 
 complexion and marked features, was well 
 qualified to enact the }3art of a dead 
 Spaniard : and as the artist had used the 
 licence of supposing the attendant shep- 
 herds gone, and the fair shepherdess come 
 to mourn afresh over the victim of her 
 cruelty, no other personages were neces- 
 sary for the groupe. 
 
 From this day Alicia was duly exercised 
 under Lady Donnington's own eye, in 
 the graceful attitude, the sweetly-sad ex- 
 pression of countenance, and the need- 
 ful art of keeping quite still. 
 
 LadyDonnington was now in an ecstasy 
 of triumphant expectation ; and so pleased 
 with her young companion, in conse- 
 quence, that she absolutely undertook 
 the trouble of inspecting the new ward- 
 robe, which that able artist Victoire, 
 aided by certain executed orders at 
 Brighton, had created for Miss Barr}^'s 
 debut. 
 
 Her Ladyship w^as pleased to approve 
 everything; and, having once pronounced 
 her favourable sentence, graciously inti- 
 mated to Alicia, that she should hence-
 
 COMING OUT. 353 
 
 forth leave the business of her toilette 
 entirely to herself and Victoire : since, 
 with such a guide at her elbow, she 
 never could wear any thing that was not 
 comme ilfaut. 
 
 As November was closing, Lady Don- 
 nington took possession of her marine 
 villa. Alicia returned to it in better 
 spirits than when she left it : for she was 
 getting accustomed to LadyDonnington's 
 dictatorial manner, — becoming a little 
 duped by her pretended kindness of in- 
 tention 'y and she had heard twice from 
 Flora. 
 
 This poor girl had been left, • without 
 warning, at a select seminary where the 
 youngest Miss Ponsonby was sent for 
 education. Though nearly heart-broken by 
 disappointment, and by a keen sense of 
 desertion, she had the resolution not to 
 express her bitter feelings ; but with a 
 mixture of pride and affection natural to 
 lier imperfect character, expressed her 
 belief, that, however disagreeable the- 
 change was at first, it would eventually 
 be more for her benefit, to have her time
 
 S54f COMING OUT. 
 
 given to study than to amusement. She 
 spoke with approbation of her new in- 
 structors; painted the luxuriant scenery 
 round the old chateau, which Madame 
 Maronville occupied; and, keeping all 
 causes of discontent out of sight, fairly 
 cheated her sister into beUeving her 
 tolerably happy. 
 
 The morning after Lady Donnington's 
 return, only two days before her tableaiu\ 
 SL grand rehearsal of the entertainment 
 took place, which Alicia witnessed, being 
 only w^anted for one of the last pictures. 
 
 The pictures were so exactly repre- 
 sented; the persons chosen to embody 
 them, either so picturesque or so hand- 
 some ; the delusion, in short, so perfect, 
 that she was in a perpetual thrill of en- 
 chantment. 
 
 None but actors in the scene were 
 allowed to be present ; yet even by this 
 limited party the dazzUng beauty of Lady 
 Donnington's Irish friend excited the 
 strongest sensation : she was stared at, 
 enquired about, complimented, criticised ; 
 one half of the young ladies admired her
 
 COMING OUT. 355 
 
 as genuinely, if not so rapturously, as the 
 very few of the other sex who had a 
 share in the rehearsal. 
 
 Only one looked sullen and kept aloof: 
 something might be conceded, however, 
 to the infirmity of constitutional vanity, 
 and to the dangerous title of The Beauty, 
 which its haughty possessor feared to 
 lose. 
 
 Lady Hyacinth Vavasour was a pale, 
 languid beauty, with dark hair, sleepy 
 eyes, and features of faultless, moveless 
 symmetry. She could not help feeling the 
 kindHng effect of Alicia Barry's varying 
 countenance and complexion; and the 
 lustre of that extraordinary hair, which 
 one of the stricken youths (a boy from 
 Eton), denominated the hair of a god- 
 dess : her own statue-like countenance 
 darkened as she looked. Lady Hya- 
 cinth's part was to represent Fenelon's 
 Calypso, surrounded by her nymphs. 
 One of the group was a deserter from 
 illness. Lady Donnington was secretly 
 enchanted : she immediately besought 
 Alicia to assume the character, and show-
 
 356 COMING OUT. 
 
 ing her, in the copied sketch, the kneels 
 ing figure she was to represent, hurried 
 her into the set. Lady Hyacinth Vava- 
 sour was drawing back, when a favourite 
 friend whispered, ** Miss Barry is only fit 
 for shepherdesses and waiting maids ! — 
 Such a coarse colour!" Calypso's volu- 
 minous robe was again gathered up in due 
 drapery. 
 
 Determining to open a complete bat- 
 tery of attractions, upon the senses, at 
 least, of the devoted Lord St. Lawrence, 
 LadyDonnington waited until the group- 
 ing and standing had been rehearsed se- 
 veral times, then gaily proposed that the 
 nymphs surrounding the enchantress 
 should surprise the beholders by dancing 
 out of their frame, and going through a 
 dance called the Grecian Quadrille, just 
 brought from Greece by Colonel Chester- 
 field. Lady Donnington proposed this 
 so carelessly and sportively, and it was so 
 directly met by equally sportive compli- 
 ance from the other young ladies, that 
 Alicia had not the courage to offer an 
 objection ; though at the mere idea her
 
 COMING OUT. 357 
 
 heart beat nearly out of her breast, words 
 fluttered on her Hps, but could not quit 
 them; and her hand trembled distress- 
 ingly, as it was taken by a sister of 
 Lady Hyacinth's. 
 
 This young lady, as if to encourage her, 
 (though after a momentary look of surprise) 
 compared their present performance to 
 the nervous situation of a person playing 
 the game of magical music, or redeeming 
 a forfeit, or telling a demanded story : a 
 situation every person had often been in 
 when young and social, therefore nei- 
 ther particular nor reprehensible. Alicia 
 allowed herself to believe the comparison 
 held good now, and with a thanking 
 smile prepared to learn the dance. 
 
 The quadrille, being particularly simple 
 in its figure, was quickly learned by 
 Alicia ; she first walked, and then danced 
 it. At the beginning she was so con- 
 fused by intimate companionship with so 
 many high-born strangers, that her step 
 was irresolute, and more than once, when 
 dancing singly, she could not keep the 
 time. Lady Donnington, however, saw,
 
 S5S COMING OUT. 
 
 that whenever her young friend was in- 
 volved in the gay labyrinth of the others, 
 her look animated, and her step became 
 regular : she was therefore confident of 
 her due effect, when distance from the 
 spectators, and the excitement of lights, 
 exquisite music, and her own awakened 
 spirits had succeeded in banishing appre- 
 hension. 
 
 As soon as she saw that Miss Bariy 
 knew the %ure perfectly, she broke up 
 the rehearsal for that day. 
 
 The morning's private exhibition ended. 
 Lady Donnington had the gratification of 
 finding her table covered with cards, left 
 by an unusual number of persons, who 
 had of late wholly gone over to the enemy. 
 Amongst these was the great stickler for 
 Lord St. Lawrence, to whose entreaties 
 she had finally yielded permission for 
 him to bring his friend on the first, and 
 present him to her. 
 
 With the natural sympathy of youth in 
 
 what they presume innocently joyous, 
 
 Alicia allowed herself to take an interest 
 
 in Lady Donnington's frequent expres- 
 
 2
 
 COMING OUT. 359 
 
 sions of pleasure at every thing having 
 gone on so prosperously for her wish of pro- 
 curing her friends an elegant amusement: 
 trying, herself) to laugh away her fear of 
 not being able to stand still when she 
 ought to do so, or to move when she 
 should be dancing. 
 
 Her cheerfulness was increased, when 
 she found that she was not to make one 
 of the company until her exhibition were 
 over. Lady Donnington well knew that 
 if such a face were once seen, nothing 
 else would be looked at ; therefore, with 
 some difficulty, permitted Alicia to accept 
 a proposal of Lady Lilias Vavasour's, 
 which was, that they two should steal in, 
 well wrapped up, when the exhibition-room 
 was properly darkened, and so contem- 
 plate the first tableaux. 
 
 The anticipated evening came ; ten 
 o'clock came ; and, as if in obedience to 
 one impelling principle, scores of bril- 
 liantly-illuminated and coroneted car- 
 riages rolled onwards to the marine villa. 
 Nothing was heard but a succession of 
 loud knockings, and of louder announce-
 
 360 COMING GUT. 
 
 ments. Every body, however, was not 
 there, though every body had begged 
 and entreated to be asked. Lady I)on- 
 nington had the height of fashion to re- 
 cover 5 and there is nothing like holding 
 back, when we wish to urge others on. 
 The novelty of the promised entertain- 
 ment had done much ; but the rumour 
 of the beautiful new face had done more ; 
 and Lord St. Lawrence's long siege for an 
 invitation had done more still. 
 
 Whatever was really the cause, all the 
 elite of high life were either at Lady 
 Donnington's, or had tried to be there, 
 Prince and Princess Azorinski excepted. 
 Lady Donnington's triumph was complete. 
 Nothing could be more brilliant than 
 the coi/p'd*ceil of her one magnificent 
 room, which had been formed out of two 
 noble ones, originally divided by folding 
 doors. The lower end, where the tableaud 
 were to be exhibited, was entirely co- 
 vered by a voluminous curtain of satin 
 damask ; and the length of the saloon 
 shining with burnished gold, alabaster
 
 COMING OUT. 361 
 
 and polished mirrors, was rendered daz- 
 zling by a lustre hanging in the centre. 
 
 This beautiful mass of glittering cry- 
 stals and brilUantly-burning gas seemed 
 pouring from the ceiling in a body of 
 light, not unlike the msitchless jets-d'eaic 
 of Versailles. 
 
 When her company had all arrived and 
 looked round, and duly lounged about 
 every novel article of Parisian furniture, 
 arranged by British taste, Lady Don- 
 nington warned them to take their places; 
 then gave the signal, and the whole body 
 of light disappeared. 
 
 At this signal, Alicia with one or two 
 others, wrapt up in their opera cloaks, 
 stole upon a back seat, and quietly kept 
 their stations there unseen and unsus- 
 pected, through great part of the exhi- 
 bition. 
 
 The company were for a few moments 
 in total darkness ; during which, some 
 laughing, and murmurs of a ** a phantas- 
 magoria!" were heard. At length the 
 massy curtain was rapidly drawn aside, 
 and ten pictures were successively dis- 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 86^ COMING OUT. 
 
 played, represented within a superb framed 
 and lighted up, to give as accurate a copy 
 of the light and shade of the originals, as 
 of the figures imitated. 
 
 By this means skilfully accomplished, 
 and from an admirably-calculated dis« 
 tance, the deception was so complete, that 
 Alicia could with difficulty restrain bursts 
 of admiration, as each new picture rose to 
 sight with the repeated rising of the cur- 
 tain. Flemish girls with guitars ; Domi- 
 nichino's Sibyl, and St. Cecilia; Guer- 
 cino's St. Catharine, bending her fair 
 neck to the stroke of her executioner, 
 were severally represented by young ladies 
 of sufficient prettiness, to become, when 
 accuratelv dressed, almost fac-similes. 
 Several celebrated portraits of Vandyke, 
 Rembrandt, and Titian, were also admi- 
 rably embodied by some of the finest 
 young men, under Lady Donnington^s 
 orders. The effect thus produced was 
 so transcendently beautiful, that eveft W 
 great painter present was heard to ex- 
 claim, " Pictures indeed ! — but what 
 pictures ! — from a divine pencil ! " —
 
 COMING OUT. 363 
 
 It was the observation of- genius and en- 
 thusiasm; and Alicia, while she felt its 
 truth, and gazed on these splendid won- 
 ders, knew not whether to think them 
 real or visionary. 
 
 As the curtain successively closed over 
 each magical representation, and the arti- 
 ficial lighting of each disappeared with 
 it, a single alabaster lamp at that end of 
 the saloon was instantaneously lighted, 
 and a band of music, stationed in a gallery 
 above, played pieces adapted to prepare 
 the mind for the next subject. 
 
 Bursts of applause, and reiterated ex- 
 pressions of pleasure, had regularly fol- 
 lowed the appearance and disappearance 
 of these living pictures : every one who 
 looked on them, except Lord St. Law- 
 rence, was sincerely delighted; he, though 
 otherwise pleased, being accustomed to 
 see tableaux abroad, and impatient for 
 one face alone, sat by the side of Lady 
 Donnington, carefully endeavouring to 
 hide under studied attentions his want 
 of something more than he had yet en- 
 joyed. 
 
 R 2
 
 364 COMING OUT*> 
 
 Meanwhile, Alicia was under the hand§ 
 of Victoire, for her share in the perform- 
 ance ; she and her companions had been 
 summoned, while complete darkness hung 
 over the audience-side of the saloon, and 
 they had slipped away as easily as they 
 entered. A few pastoral and plaintive 
 strains played on the shepherd's pipe 
 and flutes preluded the withdrawal of 
 the curtain : such rustic music gavejip 
 warning of the angelic vision that byrst 
 upon the beholders. 
 
 In the simple habit of a mountain shep^ 
 herdess, her veil half-lifted by one hand> 
 this lovelier Marcella was seen bending 
 forward, casting the chaplet of flowers 
 just taken from her head upon the bier, 
 where Victoire lay shrouded as the shep- 
 , herd Christopher. , :':?;>/ off ; i.^ir^ - 
 
 The scenic disposition of mouritamous 
 ground, necessary to a faithful imitation, 
 concealed part of Alicia's figure ; but 
 even that circumstance heightened the 
 graceful effect of her exquisitely sle^ciei' 
 shape, and the beautiful forms of Jier 
 head and neck. Her radiant hair, Dpdx-
 
 COMING OUT. S6S 
 
 itig with the transparent folds of her veil, 
 shaded her head and shoulders ; and the 
 finely imitated moonlight cast upon her 
 face, spread over it a silvery brightness 
 which, though it effaced the roses of her 
 cheek, gave a character of deeper in- 
 terest to the expression of her downward 
 eyes. 
 
 Even at that distance from the spec- 
 tators, the crook against which she was 
 leaning her fair face w^as seen to tremble 
 in her grasp ; nearly every one rose from 
 their seats at the same moment. Happily, 
 Alicia w^as too much agitated by excess 
 of confusion to suppose that the general 
 rising was for any other reason than to 
 get a better view of the figure on the 
 bier. Only Lord St. Lawrence remained 
 seated ; he was the most inwardly moved 
 of the whole assembly : the curtain fell, 
 and left him seated. Lady Donnington 
 at first mistaking his immobility for affect- 
 ation of indifierence, then for a compli- 
 ment to her, asked him " if he had ever 
 happened to see the original painting of 
 this tableau P" He replied in the affirm- 
 R 3
 
 366 COMING OUT. 
 
 at'ive,' adding something flattering about I 
 the agreement of his taste with that of her " 
 Ladyship's, in admiring the original pic- 
 ture, 
 
 " O but I insist upon your admiring 
 
 my Marcella, too, as well as Mr. 's; 
 
 unless your Lordship's admiration is all 
 bespoken for Lady Hyacinth Vavasour." 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence, though one of the 
 best-bred men existing, became all at 
 once as awkward as acted coolness and 
 purposed dissimulation can make a man. 
 
 *' O, we must all admire Miss Barry," 
 was his answer : " but I have seen her 
 before : I thought then she had had more 
 colour. I saw her in Ireland ; I thought 
 she lived there." 
 
 Lady Donnington's maliciousness was 
 very near being too much for her policy : 
 she might have parried this implied ques- 
 tion ; but affecting to be his dupe, she 
 said carelessly, " She is only come to 
 stay with me a short time, while her mo- 
 ther is in France." Then, after a longer 
 pause, " I do hope you patronise Lady 
 Hyacinth Vavasour's beauty : — she closes
 
 COMING OUT. 367 
 
 my tableaux, I look upon her as my 
 strong hold. My grand display is one of 
 that divine Gerard's pictures.*' 
 
 The curtain divided as she spoke, to a 
 strain of Weber's wizard music, and Lady 
 Hyacinth was disclosed seated in the 
 midst of a group of inferior attending 
 beauties. 
 
 All but one, indeed, were so. Alicia, 
 dressed as Eucharis, was at the feet of 
 the enchantress fastening her sandal, for 
 Calypso was attiring ; and, though clothed 
 sufficiently to satisfy ordinary delicacy, 
 w^as yet so profuse in the display of un- 
 covered shoulders, white arms, and a 
 finely-moulded foot, that she presented a 
 striking contrast to her kneeling nymph, 
 whose lovelier form, shrinking under mo- 
 dest drapery, only shadowed itself out to 
 the imagination by its grace. Lady Hy- 
 acinth Vavasour's person was upon that 
 luxuriant scale, and of such perfect form^ 
 as we are familiar with in the fine statues 
 of Greece ; but colour and mutable ex- 
 pression were wanting to kindle her into 
 something moxe than statue-like. J^e^uty, 
 R 4
 
 368 COMIN45 out. 
 
 Alicia, on the contrary, was all throbM^g*,'^ 
 speaking life : the light of youth and 
 emotion illuminated now, her ch6^k' as 
 well as her eye ; and the shade of modest 
 consciousness being thrown over those 
 beauties, were to them what a bright 
 haze is to the enchanting prospects of 
 sunny summer — a veil of greater glory. 
 Lord St. Lawrence sat with suspended 
 breath, as if afraid that at the slightest 
 sound the beauteous spell would dissolve f 
 one low murmur, however, rose, and rah 
 through the rest of the assembly. Alicia 
 heard it : to her ear it sounded like ih^\ 
 shiver of the woods round Castle Barrj^,' 
 and at this voice of her home, came the 
 recollection of Rose M^'Manus. She felt 
 conscious that were that discerning friend 
 present, she would not approve this dis- 
 play before strangers : her heart began to 
 beat with a sudden conviction of its 
 weakness, in being persuaded to do what 
 she thought a wrong thing, merely to de- 
 serve the temporary character of oblig- 
 ing. All her associates in this exhibition 
 were intimate with the persons who sat
 
 COMING 0U1% 
 
 to see them ; she alone. :w;as like an ac- 
 tress before the public. ff:t ^ 9^il -B«i>liB9q8 
 V This idea nearly overcame her, prompt- 
 ing her to start up from her position at 
 Calypso's feet, and retire; but the injunc-^ 
 tions of her mother, her own timid nature, 
 and Lady Donnington's unmerciful cha- 
 racter rendered her a coward : she re- 
 mained where she had been fixed, un- 
 conscious that her very excess of shame! 
 and struggle, had conjured up fresh beau- 
 ties of varying and exquisite colour in, 
 her, cheeks. Wliile the tableau conti- 
 nued immovable, Lord St. Lawrence 
 had time to rally himself, and in an under 
 voice to pay some forced compliments to 
 the goddess-like contours of Lady Hya- 
 cinth Vavasour. He succeeded better in, 
 the few things he said by way of direct 
 compliment to Lady Donnington herself; 
 to whose taste and talent for grouping, 
 lighting, and dressing the different pic- 
 tures, he gallantly referred his greatest 
 pleasure. Not even Lady Donnington, 
 however, with all her treachery of badi-
 
 370 COMING OUT. 
 
 nage and smiles, detached his eyes from 
 the tableau, 
 
 i' Suddenly the band played the music 
 of the Grecian Quadrille ; Calypso and 
 her nymphs danced out of their frame ; 
 some with half-finished garlands ; others 
 with flowing ribands or silken scarfs, 
 held for the enchantress's toilette. At 
 first advancing two by two in graceful 
 measure ; then interweaving themselves 
 and their garlands 5 evolving, encircling, 
 skimming singly out from the mazy circle 
 with the gaiety and glitter of summer 
 flies. unnoQ yBbJ 
 
 ^^ Calypso led this dance, but Eucharis 
 alone was seen ; though her part in it 
 was of itself no greater than that of her 
 companions. The exquisiteness of her 
 beauty, its character of n^anph-like 
 lightness, and the airy bound even of her 
 embarrassed step, made her the sole ob- 
 ject of attention: she, meanwhile, be- 
 lieved herself lost in the throng of others. 
 For a few minutes, the bright bevy 
 continued to flit and sparkle before the 
 eyes of the gazers j then the music soft-
 
 COMING OUT. ^rl 
 
 ened; their steps receded; fainter and 
 fainter still came the mellow breath- 
 ings of harp and horn ; the frame again 
 received its lovely inmates ; while as im- 
 perceptibly as morning dawns, each figure 
 retook its first station : the music ceased ; 
 and the tableau became as it had been, 
 silent and beautifully still. 
 
 At this unexpected change, the whole 
 room rang with acclamations. The con- 
 queror in his car, the newly-elected em- 
 peror on his throne, were never conscious 
 to a prouder sense of triumph than was 
 Lady Donnington when she heard these 
 plaudits, and glanced at Lord St. Law- 
 rence : — it is sad to add, that never was 
 triumph enjoyed with purer selfishness. 
 
 The peace, the honour, the whole future 
 destiny of the innocent creature by whom 
 it was achieved were disregarded: — that 
 peace which might be destroyed, — that 
 honour which might be tarnished, — that 
 fate which might be sealed for eternal 
 misery, by the awakened passions of 
 Lord St, Lawrence. 
 
 In the pursuit oi^ her own thirst for su- 
 R (i
 
 37^ COMING OUT. 
 
 preraacy, and of revenge upon an uninten- 
 tional rival, this heartless woman gave 
 herself no time to ask, whether she were 
 not sinning against ordinary principle, by 
 thus risking the temporal welfare (for 
 moral ruin she cared not) of an unexpe- 
 rienced girl confided to her by a silly 
 mother, — yet still confided. She did not 
 even lay the flattering unction to her soul, 
 that she was daring danger for her pro- 
 tegee, in the wish of obtaining for heija 
 splendid marriage ; it was a matter of 
 perfect indifference to her whether, after 
 that one season. Miss Barry married 
 Lord St. Lawrence, or any other lord or 
 commoner, or never married at all. It 
 would not be her business to enquire why 
 she did or did not ; nor to meddle with 
 the inward state of the yoimg lady's 
 heart, when she should quit her roof 
 
 In Lady Donnington's opinion,' it was 
 sufficient, that Miss Barry, being taken 
 about by her, was given opportunities Of 
 establishing herself; if she neglected 
 these, that must be considered her own 
 affair; and if private gossip were true, and
 
 COMING out. 373 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence an adept in abusing 
 women's confidence, Miss Barry had 
 only to look to her own conduct, like every 
 other well-conducted young woman, sur- 
 rounded by observant friends and rela- 
 tions : — Miss Barry, who had not a single 
 friend or relation in England l^^. ij'^j 
 
 Lady Donnington forgot, that if Alicia 
 did not marry, but left her with some 
 impression made on her heart, she would 
 go back to a comparatively-obscure mode 
 of life, under the guidance of two vain, 
 foolish parents, whose very eagerness 
 for her advancement would, perhaps, 
 render the way easy for the betrayer of 
 her hopes to complete his criminal pur- 
 pose. In truth, the woman who had never 
 given a second thought to the hasty con- 
 clusion of the brother's life of pleasure, 
 was not likely to care much more for the 
 real welfare of the sister, iod ^bBJi 
 «. The termination of the tableaux exhibi- 
 tion, and the re-illumination of the centre 
 lustre, were signals for general movement: 
 other fine rooms were thrown open, 
 where dancing, cards, flirting, convers-
 
 ST-i^ COMING OUT. 
 
 ation, and music, were soon proceeding 
 with peculiar spirit. 
 
 Most of the lady and gentlemen exhi- 
 bitors retained their picturesque dresses 
 while mingling with the rest of the com- 
 pany. Alicia, alone, hastened to change 
 her dress of Eucharis for one less obtru- 
 sively graceful, before she mixed in the 
 lively crowd. She was soon surrounded 
 by persons of both sexes, desirous of being- 
 presented to her, or having her presented 
 to them. Some did it from aimless cu- 
 riosity, some from positive admiration, 
 some from good-natured pleasure in ano- 
 ther's powers of pleasing, others from a 
 hope to find her foolish or disagreeable j 
 a few with tlie haughty purpose of show- 
 ing by their manner, that they considered 
 one born out of the'w set as a merely 
 patronised person, whom it was conde- 
 scension to notice as society. 
 
 Alicia's modest yet graceful acceptance 
 of every civihty, and the sweet unsus- 
 piciousness with which she moved away 
 from those whose lofly looks she mistook 
 for actual crossness, were greatly in fa-
 
 COMING OUT. 375 
 
 vour of her future respect from the majo- 
 rity. Lady Donnington, out of regard 
 for her own character, had already made 
 it be understood that her young visitor's 
 father had a large fortune in Ireland ; 
 but as she was obliged to own she 
 was sister to Mr. Barry of the Guards, 
 parents had some apprehension of danger 
 to their sons in consequence ; and the 
 young men themselves, in the secret of 
 Barry's sudden extinction, were not quite 
 sure that serious love-making to a sister 
 of his would be a good speculation. 
 
 Thus, although Alicia was gathered 
 round and talked to, and watched by 
 young and old, no heads of families 
 evinced much desire of drawing lier into 
 their especial circle. Young men, who 
 had either interested matches in prospect, 
 or who were prosecuting schemes of 
 which neglected wives were the object, 
 gradually recovered from that bewilder- 
 ment of every sense which had followed 
 Alicia's appearance, returning to their 
 corner tete-d-lete with more seductive 
 shows of devotion.
 
 STffrp COMING OUT. 
 
 Too many elegant idlers, however, 
 remained persecuting Alicia with impor- 
 tunate attentions in the form of little 
 temporary jests and allusions to persons 
 and places of which their fair hearer was 
 wholly ignorant Amongst this party, 
 strange to say, was not Lord St, Law- 
 rence ; because he had no mind to com- 
 mit himself ; because he felt more than 
 ordinary admiration of the countenance 
 which charmed him ; and because h^^, 
 w^ell knew that every female eye, at 
 least, wasrupon. the watch over his move- 
 ments. . : .' 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence, though, alas ! un- 
 taught in the best lore, was neither of 
 libertine principles nor of libertine 
 habits ; yet had he gratified passion at 
 the expense of conscience, and to -tjji^, 
 destruction of its idol. The very perfecr -, 
 tion of his taste for moral as much as for 
 material beauty rendering admiration a 
 snare to him, he had once before becoqae^,, 
 enamoured of charming innocence, and 
 suffer^4t^ h?^Jl^t9 49^^P^^^^^ contem-
 
 ^amti'W it miM Migrftfed by itii^^% 
 the very flower thus prized. :''?':ni^me\ 
 
 Years had passed since that time, and t 
 much of its agony and remorse was lulled 
 to sleep ; but his heart craved for some- 
 thing to make that sleep eternal. He fan- 
 cied this opiate would be found in anew * 
 attachment of holier aim, though of a ^ 
 similar nature ; and, determined to seek 
 a wife, he was now open to every soft 
 impression, "^j ^^^^ ^iii-jii bymiutirj doiriv/ 
 
 Good birth and education 'were, now- 
 ever, indispensables in his eyes : not posi- 
 tive nobility of birth, or excessive accom- 
 plishments, but such birth as gives a 
 person a right to the rank of gentility ; 
 and such an education as teaches strict 
 performance of moral duties. While 
 seeking these, and resolved not to marry 
 any woman in whom he did not find 
 them united with the manner necessary 
 to win his heart, he was well aware that 
 he might engulf himself in a passion for 
 the personal charms of the very woman 
 whom, after close observation, he might 
 disdain or fear to marry 5 and that such
 
 378 COMING OUT. 
 
 a passion might again overwhelm his 
 better principle. 
 
 b^j'l^pon the present occasion, Lord St. 
 Xrawrence felt conscious of what he 
 leniently called " his own infirmity ;" 
 and having received as strong an impres- 
 sion of Alicia's natural good tendency 
 and bad bringing up as he had done of 
 her outward loveliness, he paused ere he 
 would lay the reins on the neck of inclin- 
 ation, and follow whither that led, to 
 honour or dishonour. 
 
 This redeeming consciousness of in- 
 .ward evil had mastered his first purpose 
 of returning to Ireland for the autumn, 
 after having seen Alicia there during 
 summer : but at sight of her again in 
 Lady Donnington's carriage, when fear- 
 ing he was growing into a dangerous 
 habit of enjoying famiUar companionship 
 with Princess Azorinski, he quickly found 
 a plausible argument for rather seeking 
 the single than the married woman ; and 
 thus fell at once into Lady Donnington's 
 snare. 
 
 This evening's studied display of the
 
 COMING OUT. 379 
 
 fair stranger's person and bewitching 
 accomplishments at first emboldened his 
 passionate admiration, and revived 
 thoughts unworthy of an honourable 
 man ; but these were not long of chas- 
 tening. The striking and evidently- 
 habitual modesty of her dress and eyes, 
 seen in contrast w^ith those of Lady 
 Hyacinth Vavasour, who had obviously 
 put forth her whole artillery of charms 
 — the pure and privacy-loving tastes 
 which Alicia's manner at Castle Barry 
 indicated, appealed so resistlessly to 
 Lord St. Lawrence's high-toned ideas of 
 honour towards women, that, with some 
 indistinct notion of her possibly being all 
 he sought, he kept aloof to observe and 
 to study her. 
 
 He was, however, presented to her 
 afresh by Lady Donnington, at his own 
 request j but it seemed merely to go 
 through the civility of acknowledging 
 his first introduction ; to enquire after 
 Colonel and Mrs. Barry and her animated 
 little sister ; and to repeat some comic 
 national trait of an old lodge-keeper.
 
 380 COMIKG^DUT. 
 
 whose silver hairs and humorous free- 
 dom had amused him when riding 
 through the gates of Castle Barry. 
 
 After thus striking the chord of home 
 in Alicia's heart, and so leaving there a 
 kindly feeling towards himself^ Lord St. 
 Lawrence made no effort to detain her 
 from other society: he was contented 
 with the subtle intoxication of observing 
 her from a distance ; and she, uncon- 
 scious of his guarded espionage^ refusing 
 repeated solicitations to join the quadrille 
 dancers, traversed the different rooms ap- 
 propriated to different modes of amusing, 
 with an awakened interest in them all. 
 
 A sister of Lady Hyacinth Vavasour's, 
 who had been amongst the nymphs, 
 kindly attached herself to the young de- 
 butante ; and leaning upon her arm, 
 Alicia felt the real support of good-hu- 
 moured experience. Lady Lilias was in 
 fact an amiable, agreeable girl, neither 
 very handsome nor so decidedly without 
 pretensions as to discard solicitude about 
 her appearance. To most people she was 
 just «« nice-looking 5 " to a few, positively
 
 COMING OUT, 381 
 
 and eminently pretty: it was the mor^e 
 amiable in her, therefore, to remain in 
 such eclipse by the side of a stranger, 
 merely because she was a stranger, and 
 evidently embarrassed bythp ei|kit |)^ hgi- 
 
 own attractions. 'V t,ffp;r. Pt vlbn'-i 
 
 This young lady's frank, equalizing 
 manner, and good-natured style of con- 
 versation, at once took from Alicia that 
 feeling of being in an unknown land 
 which is so embarrassing to youth when 
 placed amongst strangers. In free com- 
 panionship with another human being, 
 she could now look delightedly round on 
 the brilliant spectacle presented by the 
 fine rooms and the groupings of the va- 
 rious sets into which the select company 
 were broken. She was greatly amused 
 by the fragments of lively chat which 
 caught her ear in passing ; she was cap- 
 tivated by the exquisite music in the 
 remote music-room ; nay, the mere eas^ 
 of the whole assembly (by its union with 
 perfect good breeding) prompted her to 
 own that she had . under-rated the fasci- 
 nating power; of such assemblies as the
 
 38^ COMING our. 
 
 present, when only hearing of them by 
 the fireside at Castle Barry. 
 
 " Yet, for all this," she added, with a re- 
 lapse into tenderness of thought, *'Horae, 
 sweet, sweet home! as we have just heard 
 with such heart-touchingness 1" 
 
 " Oh, so we shall all cry out directly 
 after hearing Miss Stephens," returned 
 Lady Lilias archly. *< I frequently hear 
 papa say, that a great orator can per- 
 suade men to act against their principles 
 very often : why may not a bewitching 
 singer incline ? " 
 
 " Lady Lilias! Lady Lilias!" inter- 
 rupted Lord St. Lawrence, *' how incau- 
 tiously wise that is ! " His smile had so 
 much more approbation in it than his 
 words, that Lady Lilias laughed fear- 
 lessly. '' I know I am terribly given to 
 talk out of place," was her good-natured 
 reply, as she piloted Alicia and herself 
 past his Lordship and her sister. 
 
 Lady Hyacintli languidly observed, 
 that *' Lilias went a great deal too much 
 amongst blue people!" And perhaps, 
 from the sheer nonsense which Lord St.
 
 COMING OUT. 8SS 
 
 Lav^^rence immediately addressed to her- 
 self) became convinced that she had 
 guessed right, when she concluded him 
 devoted only to prettiness in women. 
 Not being capable of self-martyrdom for 
 any length of time, without some great 
 object in view, his Lordship fell off from 
 Lady Hyacinth ; leaving her doubtful 
 whether he did not do it solely from the 
 fear of committing himself too far at once, 
 or out of mere civility to Lady Donning- 
 ton ; since to Lady Donnington he now 
 attached himself unalienably. 
 
 At supper Lord St. Lawrence sat next 
 the lady of the revels : the latter was in 
 her most agreeable mood. Even her 
 forced comparisons and strange epithets 
 were often entertaining; and Lord St. 
 Lawrence being in the humour to be 
 pleased, looked as if he thought her 
 charming. He seconded her bizarre 
 sallies ; made various propositions to her 
 for riding and walking ; and gladly con- 
 sented to join his name with hers for sorao 
 subscription concerts. ^rromr 
 
 Lady Donnington felt, and every body
 
 384f COMING OUT. 
 
 saw, that from this evening Lord St. Law- 
 rence was no longer the property of Prin- 
 cess Azorinski: body and soul he was now 
 evidently the votary of fashion and Lady 
 Donnington. So well did he guard his 
 true object of interest, that her Ladyship 
 obtained the full credit of his capture ; 
 and though her own keen eye continually 
 detected the glancing direction of his 
 towards another, she was so entirely pro- 
 pitiated by the care with which he masked 
 his real feelings, that she was quite ready 
 to leave them their full play. His Lord- 
 ship, indeed, had no mind to lose the 
 present golden moments for observation 
 of Alicia's manner in its first freshness ; 
 and having practised ears and eyes, he 
 contrived to give flattering attention to 
 Lady Donnington's hons-mots, while lis- 
 tening to every word and watching every 
 look of Alicia's. 
 
 Alicia's sweetly-youthful voice was not, 
 however, very often heard, nor her eye- 
 beam met in a single glance from her 
 own immediate quarter of the supper 
 table. It was her cheek that spoke ; her
 
 COMING OUT. 385 
 
 varying smile ; her now lifted and now 
 dropping eye ; the eager inclination of 
 her fair throat ; or its quick and ani- 
 mated receding beyond the reach of 
 mirth-provoking whispers. 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence detected no side- 
 long glance of incipient coquetry, nor 
 caught a single remark which could belie 
 the intelligent simplicity of her looks : he 
 saw so many admiring faces thronged 
 about and behind her chair, that he felt 
 a pang of apprehension, lest so much 
 loveliness of countenance and heart 
 should be \vithered eventually by this 
 ardour of admiration. No admiration, 
 he was well aware, could be more intense 
 than his own ; and none perhaps might 
 prove so injurious to its object : yet was 
 he, of all men, the most convinced, that 
 with the bloom of innocence, or the con- 
 sciousness of virtue, much of positive 
 beauty disappears from the human face. 
 
 There is a light in unstained purity 
 and affections striving after higher ob- 
 jects, which no fire of passion can equal ; 
 but which petty vanities too often cloud, 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 386 COMING OUT. 
 
 and cloud over, until they wholly extin- 
 guish it. 
 
 From such " darkness visible" Alicia 
 Barry's exquisite countenance was per- 
 fectly free ; and to this absence of what 
 may be called the sign of the world she 
 owed her greatest charm in the eyes of 
 Lord St. Lawrence. Every thing being 
 new to her, nothing wearied : all the 
 amusements of the evening had been ad- 
 mirably imagined and as well executed : 
 the pursuit of particular objects in the 
 men, and the anxiety for notice on the 
 side of tlie young ladies, were so skilfully 
 concealed by their mutual performance 
 of thorough enjoyment or of cheerful in- 
 difference, that a novice like Alicia saw 
 nothing else under such seeming. The 
 monstrous phantom of display which she 
 had conjured up for her own especial part 
 was vanished also : she felt lierself only 
 one in a crowd; not a puppet on a stage, 
 as her mother had incautiously suffered 
 her to apprehend she would be ; and the 
 pulleys and wires being now ably hidden, 
 she was in a fair way of letting herself be
 
 COMING OUT. 387 
 
 continually played off, without suspecting 
 degradation. 
 
 She had already been exhibited in a 
 tableaux and a fancy dance ; but having 
 done it in concert with several young 
 women of rank and character, though at 
 first most reluctantly, was reconciled to 
 the act as a complacency of common oc- 
 currence in the society to which Lady 
 Donnington introduced her ; believing 
 the partial representations of the very 
 vain or over-obliging performers. 
 
 Still, however, no throb of gratified 
 vanity had yet quickened her heart's 
 pulsation : she enjoyed the gay and gHt- 
 tering scene before her with a pure per^ 
 ception of the pleasure, unmixed with any 
 triumphant thought of self. The only 
 wish of which she was sensible about it 
 was, that Flora were with her to share 
 this exhilaration of an hour. To con- 
 tinue living in such scenes was a desire 
 as foreign to her mind as that of wasting 
 the whole of life at the exhibitions of a 
 theatre. 
 
 There were deep and dear remem- 
 s 2
 
 388 COMING OUT. 
 
 brances in this young heart which were 
 destined long to keep the world from 
 descending into it: — memories of home, 
 or rather of Mount Pleasant, which she 
 bore about her every where, as the 
 Roman youth did the images of their 
 household gods, sometimes to weep over, 
 sometimes to cheer the over-tasked spirit. 
 
 Alicia had never been conscious how 
 entirely she thought of that humble 
 house whenever she spoke to herself of 
 happiness and home. The mistake w^as 
 natural, since both cherished roofs were 
 canopied almost by the same trees. It 
 was under that of Mr. M'^Manus that she 
 had learned all that was valuable to her ; 
 it was in his wild walks that she had en- 
 joyed the sweetest effusions of girlish 
 affection with Rose M^Manus ; it was by 
 his fire-side she had listened to Jocelyn 
 Hastings. 
 
 Of Jocelyn Hastings Alicia still thought 
 by a sort of stealth. She was half-ashamed 
 of remembering him with so much inte- 
 rest and regret, when he appeared to have 
 so wholly forgotten her. Yet as he was
 
 COMING OUT. 389 
 
 valued in proportion to his intrinsic 
 worth, not by the degree of regard he 
 manifested towards herself, she believed 
 it no diminution of maidenly dignity to 
 recall sometimes the happy years of their 
 childhood together. 
 
 Often in her solitary moments had his 
 character, as contrasted witli those of the 
 prosperous now surrounding her, — his 
 deep expressiveness of eye and voice, 
 risen to recollection, with a tenderness 
 and force to which she could not refuse 
 many a silent tear : that eye which had 
 ever looked upon her with gentlest kind- 
 ness; — that voice, which had never 
 spoken but to leave traces on the heart 
 of goodness and sensibility ; — that cha- 
 racter, which had proved its fitness for 
 the high destination to which it was de- 
 voted, by serene acquiescence in the 
 most striking reverse of fortune ! 
 
 How frequently had she wished that 
 Jocelyn Hastings had been born her bro- 
 ther, or that Marcus had resembled him ! 
 She felt a yearning for such a one to 
 lean upon now for light and guidance ; 
 s 3
 
 390 COMING OUT. 
 
 to tell her where she ought to confide, 
 where doubt; — what compliances were 
 amiable and allowable, what forbidden 
 by other laws than those of the w^orld. 
 But Hastings was gone, as Rose M^'Manus 
 was; — nay, more entirely gone than she, 
 for that inalienable friend kept up a re- 
 gular, though necessarily unfrequent, cor- 
 respondence with those who loved her at 
 Castle Barry, and he wrote not to any 
 one there. 
 
 Alicia had always to make an effort 
 ere she could dismiss the recollection of 
 Jocelyn Hastings ; and, during the first 
 part of this night's gay novelties, it had 
 not come so fixedly before her as towards 
 its close, when her animal spirits began 
 to flag, and her body to weary. No 
 longer excited by the presence of Lady 
 Lilias Vavasour who was gone home, 
 and disinclined to dancing, when that 
 was resumed after supper, she drew to 
 the side of Lady Donnington, and peti- 
 tioned for leave to steal away to her 
 room : — the leave was granted, and the 
 next moment Alicia disappeared.
 
 COMING OUT. 391 
 
 As she glided away, the former said 
 carelessly to Lord St. Lawrence, " Did 
 you ever see a field-flower keep ten mi- 
 nutes alive in a room? We garden- 
 plants stand it much better." 
 
 " Your wild rose, however, has not 
 quite lost its blush," observed his Lord- 
 ship, copying the light tone. 
 
 " O how very merciless of you, my 
 Lord, to see that unhappy trick of the 
 poor girl's!" exclaimed her Ladyship, 
 with playful reproof: then more seriously, 
 — " Since these good Irish people have 
 left their pretty daughter in my hand for 
 the next three or four months, I throw 
 myself upon your charity, Lord St. Law- 
 rence, to help me in keeping Miss Barry 
 from being run down by one or two sets 
 that are dreadfully ready to find fault 
 with every new face. I do own she is 
 bashful and odd for a young lady well 
 brought up ; — but what 's to be done ? — 
 her dancing shows how much may be 
 juade of her after a while. Pray do say 
 a kind word about her dancing in so- 
 ciety ; — it will be so good of you ! If 
 s 4
 
 39^ COMING OUT. 
 
 the poor girl don't take, or, at least, fancy 
 she does, I foresee she will fall into the 
 same dreadful nervous way Miss Radnor 
 got into, when she was annoyed by those 
 ill-natured Lady " 
 
 Here the fair orator prudently stopped, 
 leaving Lord St. Lawrence to smile and 
 whisper the names of certain young la- 
 dies, whose mother was, next to Princess 
 Azorinski, the person most dreaded and 
 detested by Lady Donnington. Her 
 Ladyship smiled too, assured that from 
 this evening Lord St. Lawrence would 
 no longer carry the weight of his support 
 to that house. 
 
 He was indeed better pleased with 
 Lady Donnington than he had expected 
 to be; beginning to doubt her being 
 actuated by the insatiate desire of depo- 
 pulating every fashionable room but her 
 own. Lord St. Lawrence was not the 
 first person who has suffered his ori- 
 ginal impression of a character to be ef- 
 faced by flatteries on a second interview, 
 or by willing obedience to some passion 
 of his own. Whatever caused his com-
 
 COMING OUT. 393 
 
 placent feelings, complacent they were ; 
 and, although Alicia returned no more, 
 to gild pleasures hackneyed to him, he 
 remained amongst the latest of the party, 
 quitting the marine villa only as day 
 dawned. 
 
 From this night Lady Donnington's 
 throne was resumed. Princess Azorinski, 
 with all her witchery, ceased to draw 
 *« crowded'* houses, as one of her seceders 
 ungratefully termed her pleasant assem- 
 blies. Yet the cheerful foreigner's ac- 
 cessibihty and good humour abated not ; 
 she received such of her early adherents 
 as maintained their fidelity with the same 
 frank hilarity as formerly, seeking no ex- 
 pedients for retaining them, nor talking 
 of her truant acquaintance, but as subjects 
 of harmless pleasantry. She made no 
 hesitation in saying she thought nothing so 
 natural as for every body to pour into Lady 
 Donnington's, where there were so many 
 agreeable things constantly going forward, 
 and such a beautiful face to look at as 
 Miss Barry's. But her husband felt and 
 acted differently. 
 
 s 5
 
 39i' COMING OUT. 
 
 Prince Azorinski was, in fact, a high- 
 spirited noble, who, knowing his own 
 dignity and his wife's merits, suffered no 
 affront on either to pass without marked 
 notice. After Lord St. Lawrence be- 
 came so decided a friend of Lady Don- 
 nington's, therefore suddenly discontinued 
 his constant daily visits at the Hotel Azo- 
 rinski, the prince, offended at such ap- 
 parent levity, soon gave orders to be 
 denied to his Lordship whenever he might 
 call ; and Lord St. Lawrence, once or 
 twice sent away, was in no hurry to re- 
 peat an enquiry at his door. 
 
 Princess Azorinski, however, retained 
 her kind feelings towards the truant, and 
 while pleading for others, whose names 
 her husband threatened to have scratched 
 out of her visiting-book, managed to sug- 
 gest an apology for their former favourite. 
 
 Boldly maintaining that Miss Barry's 
 beauty first attracted each individual till 
 a crowd was organizedy and that crowd 
 made Lady Donnington's parties so much 
 more desired than those of other ladies, 
 she playfully and allowably amused both
 
 COMING OUT. 395 
 
 herself and her husband, by imagining 
 the different objects, which, carrying the 
 same persons with precisely the same 
 views from her house to Lady Donning- 
 ton's, would re-convey them back, should 
 the tide of fashion refiow in that direction. 
 
 '* Lovers dat do vant to follow der loves ; 
 husbands dat desire to spy der wifes ; 
 parens who do vant grandes parties for der 
 childs ^ de folly pepe who go only to be 
 amuse ; all dese must go to my Ladi Don- 
 nington, or not fin' vat de seek ; my Lor' 
 St. Lawrence too, if he be fall in love 
 wid Miss Barry." 
 
 , Such was the considerate cheerfulness 
 with which Madame Azorinski discussed 
 the subject of her deserted saloiis, re- 
 viving her husband's good humour, by 
 talking bad English instead of good 
 French, because it made him laugh, and 
 so gave a zest to that domestic meal, 
 breakfast ; the only meal which men of 
 business, in any rank, can be said 
 thoroughly to enjoy with their family. 
 
 Princess Azorinski was too frank and in- 
 considerate about common forms to refraia 
 s
 
 S96 COMING OUT. 
 
 from plainly telling Lord St. Lawrence, 
 the first time they met at a third person's 
 house, of her Prince's quarrel with him, 
 and her defence. The unaffected good- 
 nature Avith which she said it, and the 
 simplicity of confidence which such a 
 proceeding displayed, convinced Lord 
 St. LawTcnce that her naivete was neither 
 affected nor artful ; that she had really 
 cared for him and others, merely as agree- 
 able friends, and that so far from being 
 piqued by finding him attracted from 
 her social parties by youth and beauty, 
 she was rather anxious to hear it w^as so, 
 that she might restore him to her hus- 
 band's favour. 
 
 He said enough, therefore, to justify 
 her in saying more to the Prince ; and 
 having satisfied him sufficiently for Lord 
 St. Lawrence to regain his old footing 
 whenever he chose, she contentedly suf- 
 fered all the outward world to attribute 
 her desertion to Lady Donnington's own 
 individual influence. His Lordship, how- 
 ever, could not incur the risk of being 
 shut out from the marine villa, ere lie 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 397 
 
 should have studied the fair creature there 
 with decisive scrutiny. He was already 
 giddy with the passion inspired by her 
 beauty ; and, wishing to find her all that 
 his moral taste required, yet in some de- 
 gree afraid she would not prove so, 
 watched her in public and private, at the 
 expence of many a deserted duty. 
 
 Though not seven-and -twenty, Lord 
 St. Lawrence had early learned to doubt 
 and to dread when his passions were con- 
 cerned ; there was so much of the sus- 
 picious about Miss Barry's family history, 
 so much in Lady Donnington's mode of 
 bringing her forward, partly as an actress, 
 partly as one whose pretensions justified 
 the most fantastic expenses, that his deli- 
 cacy took alarm, and losing sight of the 
 possible consequences to her peace, he 
 persisted in a system of conduct, calcu- 
 lated to excite expectation, if not to justify 
 accusation. 
 
 Lady Donnington, however, was an 
 able coadjutor, though not precisely from 
 intention : she took no pains to open the 
 eyes of her young protegee, when she
 
 898 COMING OUT. 
 
 saw her blind to her power, but went on 
 careering in her own car of triumph. 
 Meanwhile, Alicia had her wide throne, 
 as well as Lady Donnington. The news- 
 papers were already full of the beautiful 
 Miss Barry ; the shops were full of silks 
 and ribands of the colour she wore in 
 the tableau of Marcella ; the Steyne was 
 full of gazers when she was expected to 
 walk there ; the East Cliff was full of 
 carriages and equestrians when she was 
 expected to drive there ; the very church 
 she attended was thronged by those who 
 never entered there for the true ^worship! 
 Parties were made for her, caresses lavished 
 upon her, by the very persons who were 
 the most envious of her attractions. So 
 necessary was it for all to feel or to affect 
 an interest in Miss Barry. 
 
 Her own beauty made Alicia a sight ; 
 Lady Donnington had made her the fa- ^ 
 shion; and some of the peerage seemed well 
 inclined to raise her to high rank -, but the 
 natural humility of her character preserved 
 her from becoming insolent ; its artless- 
 ness and sweetness rendered her interest-
 
 COMING OUT, 399 
 
 ing. Thus, not even envy could hate 
 any thing in her except her lovehness ; 
 yet envy was active, and many an in- 
 vidious remark, following up a purposed 
 mis-statement, was successfully employed 
 to excite distrust, or to throw an appear- 
 ance of the ridiculous over her engaging 
 diffidence. 
 
 After the exhibition of Lady Donning- 
 ton's tableaux^ the Grecian Quadrille had 
 gone by the name of the Dance of Eucha- 
 ris. Alicia, unconscious of this gallant 
 alteration (its new appellation being then 
 only whispered round), one evening pre- 
 pared to share in it, as she would have 
 done in any other common quadrille. 
 Lady Hyacinth Vavasour, who had 
 hitherto always taken the principal part 
 in this pretty dance, sullenly refused to 
 lead the gay band. Her manner was so 
 ungracious, and the disappointment of 
 her party so evident, that Alicia had not 
 the heart to resist their entreaties, when 
 they besought her to take the discarded 
 situation, and leave the less difficult one 
 to a noviciate.
 
 400 COMING OUT. 
 
 In pure kindliness she consented ; and 
 long will that light and lovely figure, ad- 
 vancing with lifted head and graceful 
 step, be remembered ; alternately flying 
 or floating away, as if on waves of air. 
 So great w^as the sensation this dance ex- 
 cited, that Alicia's quick sense of delicacy 
 was restored by the audible raptures of 
 the lookers on ; and, turning deadly pale, 
 she said, in great disorder, to Lady Lilias 
 Vavasour, by her side, " My dancing 
 must have something wrong in it, or whyis 
 
 my name the only one '' Lady Lilias 
 
 interrupted ** Just because you dance 
 
 better than any creature on earth." 
 *' Either way, I never will dance this qua- 
 drille again,*' was AHcia's answer. The 
 good-humoured Lady Lilias endeavoured 
 to laugh her out of this resolution ; but 
 Alicia gave her such sound reasons against 
 exposing herself to ridicule, or incurring 
 the danger of becomingfond of admiration, 
 that Lady LiUas, partly amused by the sim- 
 plicity of her frankness, partly excited by 
 her high-toned principle, let her go ; and 
 directly afterwards, being joined by Lord
 
 COMING OUT. 401 
 
 St. Lawrence, poured forth upon him at 
 once her admh'ation and its cause. 
 
 It may he imagined that he Hstened 
 with dissembled pleasure to an anecdote 
 which bore exactly the testimony he 
 wished given to the delicacy of the woman 
 he was studying so anxiously. It enrap- 
 tured him at the moment, and, at the 
 same time, showed him where he might, 
 by good management, obtain much valu- 
 able information on the subject next his 
 heart, without being suspected. Lady 
 Lilias Vavasour then became his great 
 friend ; that is, he spoke so much more 
 to her than to any other person, that it 
 allowed people, who were determined not 
 to see the frequent direction of his eyes, 
 to speak of her as the object of his serious 
 pursuit. Lady Lilias, taking the evidence 
 of her own senses, was quite sure she was 
 not, though she did not for some time 
 discover that he contrived to get out of 
 her every thing she could tell about Alicia 
 Barry, and that by such means Lord St. 
 Lawrence was acquainted with all the 
 contradictory feelings of that artless girl ;
 
 402 COMING OUT. 
 
 her faults and excellencies, her resolutions 
 and regrets. 
 
 Had Alicia, indeed, studied how to fix 
 the wavering purpose of the young peer, 
 she could not have hit upon one more 
 interestingly effectual than that of con- 
 fessing herself to this faithless yet kind 
 confessor. She had, in truth, much to 
 tell Lady Lihas of inward changes ; and 
 Lady Lilias was so unguarded, and so 
 playfully cheated into indiscreet comnau- 
 nication by Lord St. Lawrence, that she 
 rarely left a single uncommon expression 
 of her Ii'ish friend's unrelated. 
 
 Against every one of her first expect- 
 ations, Alicia found herself delighted by 
 numberless objects of taste and beauty, 
 by the grace and piquancy of convers- 
 ation amongst persons by whom agreeable 
 conversation is studied as a science, and 
 by the friendly air which a smaller scale 
 of parties gives to selected society. Man- 
 ner, too, exercised its sorcery over her 
 discernment, making her feel obliged 
 w4ien, in reality, some notable act of per- 
 fidy was perpetrating against her ; causing
 
 COMING OUT. 403 
 
 her to believe persons good or refined, 
 who were, in fact, low-minded j and al- 
 luring her into fancying many things 
 right which she had once thought must 
 be wrong, by whomsoever practised. 
 
 Had the change stopped here, Alicia 
 might not have paused to consider it at- 
 tentively : but this supposed increase of 
 liberality had its usual consequence j it 
 began to sap certain good habits in herself. 
 She found that she was now easily in- 
 duced to give up whole days and weeks 
 to a succession of high-flavoured amuse- 
 ments ; to waste hours by different frac- 
 tions through each day in talking of her 
 dress and changing her dress ; to let day 
 after day pass without reading, working, 
 writing to, scarcely thinking of, her far- 
 distant family and friends ; to pass nearly 
 the whole of every night in a circle of 
 thoughtless people, buzzed round by ad- 
 mirers ; listening to every gossip spor- 
 tively retailed, or to sentiments which, if 
 not adroitly uttered as if in jest, must 
 have called for a protest against their 
 falsity ; then to return home so wearied
 
 404 COMING OUT. 
 
 as to drop to sleep with the hurried or 
 languid prayer still on her lip ; without 
 having opened that treasured volume 
 which she well kne)v contained the only 
 armour capable of resisting the weapons 
 of the world. 
 
 Jocelyn Hastings had often told her 
 this, and his life bore witness to its 
 truth : how, then, would he condemn her 
 now, were he made acquainted with her 
 present mode of living ! Alicia knew that 
 Jocelyn Hastings would not have inter- 
 dicted a single harmless recreation tem- 
 perately partaken of after the business of 
 the day was done, and innocently used j 
 that he would not have taught her to 
 look with scowling suspicion upon the 
 whole body of the society she was living 
 in; on the contrary, that he was a teacher 
 of that " charity which thinketh no evil ;" 
 but she was aware that he would have 
 condemned her for suffering her entire 
 time to be engulfed by unprofitable, cul- 
 pable self-pleasing ; nay more, for her 
 timid acquiescence with a habit of Lady 
 Donnington's, to which she felt a just re-
 
 COMING OUT. 405 
 
 pugnance, but which custom amongst 
 the higher orders dares to stamp with 
 the name of unavoidable, — the habit of 
 deliberate sabbath-breaking. 
 
 It was Lady Donnington's custom to 
 drive or walk to some public promenade 
 invariably after church, whether she at- 
 tended it or not : Alicia having at fii'st re- 
 sisted, and then been alternately ridiculed 
 and scolded into comphance, was at last 
 weak enough to pass from prayers to the 
 magic- lantern scene of the marine parade, 
 losing in a giddy round of compliments, 
 gossip, and remarks upon dresses and 
 equipages, all impression of the sacred 
 services from which she was thus forcibly 
 torn away. Conscience, however, could 
 not be stilled by all the bosom-sophistry 
 which a timid nature employed to justify 
 its own cowardice to itself; and she could 
 not help imparting her trouble of mind on 
 the subject to Lady Lilias Vavasour ; in 
 hopes her arguments would either sanc- 
 tion her in believing strictness a duty, or 
 entirely satisfy her as to the innocence of 
 compliance.
 
 406 COMING OUT. 
 
 Lady Lilias was taught to respect 
 the sabbath ; to make it a day of rest 
 for Servants and horses ; to abstain 
 from amusements, and attend church ; 
 but she was not further informed ; she 
 did not yet comprehend its higher cha- 
 racter of wilHng and joyful surrender of 
 the whole soul to the Divine Institutor of 
 that sabbath. She was therefore ready 
 enough to give her friend absolution for 
 the venial offence, though not so insin- 
 cere as to say she beheved it none ; and 
 in one of her tetes-d-tete during a ride with 
 Lord St. Lawrence and others, laughingly 
 repeated to him their mutual dilemma. 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence was careful to ga- 
 ther all that had been said between the 
 two friends ; and, separating Alicia^ s 
 share in the discourse from that of Lady 
 Lilias, was obliged to perceive that her 
 heart was strongly agitated by the fear 
 of violating a sacred duty. It is difficult 
 to say whether this discovery gave his 
 Lordship more pain or pleasure. In com- 
 mon with all men (whatever be their own 
 speculations on the one great question)^ 
 20
 
 COMING OUT. 407 
 
 he desired to have his wife deeply im- 
 pressed by the only principle which gives 
 stability to virtuous habits and affections; 
 yet conscious that hitherto he had him- 
 self rather considered the subject of reli- 
 gion as unimportant to persons of esta- 
 blished intellect, and inconvenient for 
 men in the world, it was somewhat start- 
 ling to fancy himself united to a perpe- 
 tual monitor, under the form of a gentle 
 woman. For some days he pondered 
 over the subject, and at length determined 
 to see how Alicia looked in the act of 
 prayer, and to extricate her by a piece 
 of address from the necessity of dissi- 
 pating every Sunday. 
 
 He effected this by watching for Lady 
 Donnington's carriage, just at the time it 
 might be supposed she was going to the 
 afternoon service ; and appearing to take 
 it for granted she and Miss Barry were 
 on their way thither, begged to be ad- 
 mitted into their party. Lady Donning- 
 ton, perhaps for tlie first time in her life, 
 was so thoroughly disconcerted by this 
 .extraordinary request, that she literally
 
 408 COMING OUT. 
 
 had not presence of mind to say she was 
 not going to church ; nor yet to rally her 
 powers of ridicule, and jest Lord St. Law- 
 rence into silence, before he had further 
 astonished her, and sent her intended 
 railleries back from her lips. He seized 
 the opportunity, and with much decision 
 of tone inveighed against the practice of 
 going through the seventh day like all 
 the other six ; plying his fashionable 
 hearer with arguments suited to her aris- 
 tocratic notions, in which the favourite 
 phmse of bad taste perpetually recurred ; 
 and dropping a word now and then of 
 more interesting, if not exactly of more 
 serious, import for the consideration of the 
 sincerely-earnest Alicia. 
 
 Although Lady Donnington was not in 
 the secret of her young companion's confes- 
 sions, she was acute enough to conjecture 
 that so singular a proceeding as this of Lord 
 St. Lawrence's must be the consequence 
 of her direct or indirect inifluence, and she 
 could have uttered a very biting sarcasm 
 upon the occasion, but restraining herself 
 from pure policy, coolly said she had not
 
 COMING OUT. 409 
 
 quite made up her mind about going to 
 church again, but certainly would now, 
 desiring his Lordship to give the proper 
 orders to her coachman. 
 
 As they drove to their chapel, Lord 
 St. Lawrence did not quit the subject of 
 Sunday drives and Sunday pleasure-par- 
 ties, until he had completely established 
 the fact of both being exceeding bad taste, 
 and had playfully exacted a promise from 
 Lady Donnington, that she would imme- 
 diately put such practices out of fashion, 
 by her decided opposition. It is true 
 Lord St. Lawrence mingled his imphed 
 censure of the person he addressed with 
 so many delicate flatteries, so much pro- 
 fessed deference for her opinion and ex- 
 ample, and such liberal offers of himself 
 and his time through every other day of 
 the week, that Alicia might have found 
 some fault with the means he employed 
 to reach a worthy object, had not her 
 judgment been warped by sudden in- 
 terest in his situation and character. He 
 spoke of the carelessness acquired on the 
 Continent by Protestant travellers in Ca- 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 410 COMING OUT. 
 
 tholic countries ; of the salutary institu- 
 tions of their own happy land ; of his 
 notion that it was every Englishman's 
 duty to unlearn as fast as possible the 
 habit of indifference about forms and 
 creeds which he was sure to acquire when 
 long resident in Italy or France ; and of 
 his own especial regret that he was as yet 
 little better than a heathen, either in point 
 of knowledge or practice, in the matter 
 of our established religion. ,({ c^j^nip t, m 
 Lord St. Lawrence was too accorrv* 
 plished in the science of society not to 
 say all this almost with a tone of badip 
 nage ; but he knew how to deepen the 
 character of a lightly-spoken word by a 
 momentary expression of eye directed 
 to the silent Alicia; and lier young heart 
 readily admitted the belief that he meant 
 even more than he said, to so worldly a 
 person as Lady Donnington. For the 
 first time since she had known him, she 
 grieved that such amiable candour and 
 right dispositions should be stifled till 
 perhaps they were destroyed, by inchn- 
 ations of a different sort ; and leaning
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 ^ii 
 
 back in the carriage, she continued think- 
 ing upon the subject; — thinking whe- 
 ther she had not been deceived about 
 Lord St. Lawrence's character. 
 
 She called to mind, that Lady Don- 
 nington, at the commencement of their 
 acquaintance, had spoken of his liaison 
 with Princess Azorinski as sufficiently 
 obvious to m.ake her avoid the Princess's 
 society ; but, professing to tolerate that 
 in a single man which she reprobated in 
 a married w^oman, had refused to see that 
 the marriage bond upon either one of two 
 parties, who concur in breaking it, is 
 equally violated by both : thus Lady 
 Donnington, deeming the criminality 
 slight, might not have taken much pains 
 to investigate the truth of the rumour ; 
 and Alicia, herself undoubting, and caring 
 only to keep such a libertine at a distance, 
 had never asked a question about Lord 
 St. Lawrence. Longer experience of busy 
 life had now taught her to hesitate ere 
 she believed a tale to another's disadvan- 
 tage. Since her stay with Lady Don- 
 nington, she had heard so many whispered 
 T 2
 
 412 COMING OUT. 
 
 horrors of wives and mothers, married 
 men and boys flattered into guiltiness, — 
 and the actors in these tragi-comic 
 dramas were sometimes so obviously 
 good or seemingly innocent — the stories 
 were recited with such excessive eflbrts 
 at rendering them entertaining — that al- 
 ready she began to discredit them. 
 
 She could not believe that any habits 
 of life could give such a false appetite 
 fbr the ridiculous as to make it be 
 eagerly sought for, and liberally bestowed 
 upon events, which to the heart, even in 
 its natural state, must ever cause grief or 
 abhorrence. Hastening, therefore, from 
 the bewildering maze, and constitutionally 
 inclining to the side of charity, she now 
 decided that she ought never to rely upon 
 a disadvantageous report of a person, 
 since in the present instance such implicit 
 reliance had rendered her unjust. 
 
 Alicia could not suppose it possible for 
 a man conscious of wilful, deliberate sin 
 to express himself as Lord St. Lawrence 
 had just done upon sacred subjects; thus 
 proving his sincerity by his conduct, she
 
 COMING OUT. 413 
 
 was led to surmise that part of Lady Don- 
 nington's representations might be cor- 
 rect, and Princess Azorinski be indeed 
 a light-minded wife, from whose snares it 
 might be well for Lord St. Lawrence 
 that he had escaped unhurt. 
 
 In this temper towards him, she suf- 
 fered him to assist her in alighting from 
 the carriage, and to sit next her during 
 the church service, without showing that 
 uneasy desire of withdrawing from his 
 close vicinity which he had remarked, 
 though unknowing how to account for 
 it ; and which, in fact, arose from deli- 
 cacy and right principle. He set the 
 seal to his good purposes, in her opinion, 
 by merely handing both ladies into their 
 carriage after the service ended, and 
 walking directly homeward. The next 
 night Alicia knew she should meet Lady 
 Lilias Vavasour at a musical party ; and, 
 for the first time, she resolved to ask her 
 about Lord St. Lawrence. 
 
 Lady Lilias was not the best counsellor 
 she could have chosen ; she was neither 
 very clever nor very cautious ; she was 
 T 3
 
 414 COMING OUT. 
 
 merely cheerful, kind-hearted, and sin- 
 cere, — but she was the only young wo- 
 man that had braved the danger of con- 
 stant comparison with Alicia's lovely face, 
 by constant companionship in public, and 
 she was the only one of whom Alicia felt 
 secure. Whenever Lady Lilias seconded 
 her own inclination to disbelieve an ill- 
 natured story, she never hesitated to reject 
 it altogether. -itiiJ x^TiiluomK-. 
 
 How lamentable is it: when youth is 
 the guide of youth ! — how frequently do 
 they lead each other astray, while de- 
 sirous of promoting each other's progress 
 in the right course ! sometimes scorning 
 that course, only because it is the safest j 
 and aiming at dangerous elevation, with- 
 out reflecting, that every height has its 
 proportionate precipice. Lady Lilias Va- 
 vasour, with far greater facilities for fa- 
 thoming the bottom of every evil story than 
 Alicia possessed, had an equal inclination 
 for doubting whatever made against an- 
 other ; she went even farther than Alicia, 
 and in the warmth of zeal for what she 
 called calumniated human nature, made
 
 COMING OUT. 415 
 
 one or two persons the scape-goats upon 
 whom she laid the sins of every scandal. 
 Thus, whenever she heard a slanderous 
 tale much insisted upon by one of those 
 persons, she totally discredited it, repeat- 
 ing her opinion upon just as slight autho- 
 rity as the propagators of., the calumny 
 had for their narratives. ' ^rfhrrT r ^^m r-v 
 
 Lady Donnington's selfish cold-hearted- 
 ness being particularly disliked by her, 
 she could with difficulty hear in silence 
 Alicia's occasional expressions of obli- 
 gation to that lady. But as neither 
 Lady Lilias's intimacy with Miss Barry 
 nor her knowledge of her connections 
 authorized her in free speaking on this 
 subject, she contented herself witli evad- 
 ing joining in the praise. This delicate 
 reserve gave way before indignation, 
 when Alicia and she met at the concert, 
 and they got a little undisturbed convers- 
 ation before their sevei'^lradmiv^vs came 
 in to molest them. '^ ciif, c-,,,,^,^,. 
 
 Alicia ingenuously related her Sun- 
 day's adventure with Lord 8t. Lawrence, 
 and her consequent hope tliat his former 
 T 4
 
 416 COMING OUT. 
 
 attraction to the house of Prince Azo- 
 rinski had not been of a nature to war- 
 rant the opinion Lady Donnington had 
 of the Princess's regard for him. 
 
 Lady LiUas cried out against the scan- 
 dal, entering immediately into a defence 
 of the lady as well as the gentleman ; 
 and though owning, that, from her father 
 not being in the ministerial set, she only 
 knew Prince and Princess Azorinski as 
 they were to be seen in large parties, 
 she knew that they lived on the happiest 
 terms together, and were intimately tied 
 with some of the very first families of 
 character in the three kingdoms ; that, 
 except by Lady Donnington, and a few 
 like her, who had been jealous of Madame 
 Azorinski, the latter's conduct had never 
 been questioned a single moment : and 
 as for Lord St. Lawrence's share in the 
 odium, if Miss Barry's informant had 
 grounded her doubt of his principles 
 upon the Princess's presumed passion 
 for him, she was proved to be wrong 
 by the perfect good humour with which 
 the amiable foreigner saw his Lordship
 
 COMING OUT. 41i7 
 
 transfer his attentions from herself to 
 another; and, convicted of a false judg- 
 ment upon one occasion, her Ladyship 
 might very fairly be set down as not 
 trustworthy upon another. 
 
 The result was, that both Lady Lilias 
 and her gentle listener came to this con- 
 clusion: — Lord St. Lawrence was to be 
 considered fully acquitted and cleared 
 of imputed guilt, and was to be allowed 
 free opportunities of making his better 
 qualities speak for themselves. 
 
 There is a generous propensity in 
 amiable youth to overpay a sufferer for 
 past injustice. When guided by judi- 
 cious and experienced relatives, or under 
 higher guidance still, this propensity 
 may be turned to the noblest uses. 
 Alicia, entirely unprovided with the first, 
 and but imperfectly seeking the other, 
 followed the impulse of her own soft 
 nature ; and w^hen Lord St. Lawrence 
 entered the room at this critical moment, 
 turned her eyes towards him with an 
 expression of interest and approbation. 
 
 It was the first time Lord St, Law- 
 T 5
 
 418 COMING OUT. 
 
 rence had seen her look so at any man ; 
 no Wonder it should disorder him for a 
 few instants. He waited while the brief 
 transport was dispersing, ere he began 
 the duty of speaking to the lady of the 
 house; then going to Lady Donnington; 
 and, finally, of securing a place by the 
 side of the two intimates. 
 
 Although Lord St. Lawrence, by in- 
 cessant watching of Alicia's countenance 
 when she conversed with others, and by 
 thinking over every thing he heard of 
 or from her, was surprisingly well ac- 
 quainted with the great outlhies of her 
 character, she scarcely knew more of 
 him than that he was an elegant-looking 
 young man, with a graceful figure and 
 sweet expression of face. She was, there- 
 fore, agreeably surprised now, when in 
 this lighter style of conversation than 
 that which first drew her attention to 
 him, she found him of a much higher 
 order of intellect than she gave any man 
 credit for, whom she saw idling away 
 the hours in mere amusements. 
 
 Though the trifles going on round
 
 COMING OUT. 419 
 
 theiTij between the short pieces of music, 
 formed the key-notes of nearly all Lord St. 
 Lawrence said, the talent and habit of 
 seeing and saying differently from other 
 people, which particularly distinguished 
 him, gave variety and character to what 
 would else have been insipid. Lady 
 Lilias bore her part with much vivacity : 
 Alicia was not yet quite at her ease with 
 the man she had hitherto shunned and 
 never once suspected of admiration for 
 herself^ and believing him fully occupied 
 with the sisters (for Lady Hyacinth had 
 somehow joined them), she rarely spoke 
 but in varying smiles. 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence, however, had now 
 effected his secret object without visible 
 effort. Hitherto Miss Barry's quiet avoid- 
 ance of him had rendered it impossible 
 for him to begin winning upon her re- 
 gard ; but from this evening he had 
 made himself a sort of right to go up to 
 her in any society, and attach himself to 
 her side as he was nov/ doing to that of 
 Lady Lilias Vavasour. 
 
 This was fortunate, since the whole 
 T 6
 
 4^0 COMING OUT. 
 
 Vavasour family were going upon the 
 Continent, and he would then lose his 
 unconscious and valuable spy upon the 
 character he was studying. Very soon 
 after this evening, they quitted Brighton, 
 leaving Alicia wholly destitute of a fe- 
 male friend. 
 
 Although the Brighton fashion of vi- 
 siting, amongst the very first class, con- 
 sists of little social sets at certain plea- 
 sant houses, not in great assemblies, 
 Lady Donnington always gave a check 
 to intimacies between persons she chose 
 to keep in subjection. It was her deter- 
 mination to be absolute in every thing. 
 Nothing would have offended her more 
 highly than to have had her protegee 
 taken out of her hand (as she would 
 have termed it) by any impertinent 
 young lady or officious matron. Thus 
 she never saw any advances made to 
 Miss Barry by women equally excellent 
 and exalted, without nipping the ac- 
 quaintance in the bud by some misrepre- 
 sentation of their motives, or by showing 
 her that she must not think of going 
 12
 
 COMING OUT. 421 
 
 where she was not going also. Alicia 
 was, therefore, alternately induced or 
 obliged to decline several kind invitations 
 to domesticate for a morning or an 
 evening in a real family circle that would 
 at once have revived her best ideas of 
 blameless enjoyment and exercised affec- 
 tions; and left to fancy and to regret, 
 that all born in the world of rank and 
 fashion were self-condemned to the inces- 
 sant labour " of killing time." 
 
 In the land of fashion, like other lands, 
 there are, however, different sets, of dif- 
 ferent characters and different habits. 
 The traveller in both, must depend upon 
 his conductor for the impressions he may 
 receive there. If he goes with a com- 
 panion of lawless principles, he returns 
 and pronounces all the women of that 
 country unworthy : has he a different 
 associate, he comes back and unfeignedly 
 eulogizes their modesty and virtue. Thus 
 Alicia, restrained from the society of 
 those who never gave more of their time 
 to pleasure than she occasionally saw 
 them do in the small evening parties,
 
 4^2 COMING OUT. 
 
 could not but imagine they spent the 
 whole of their day as worthlessly as others 
 did. 
 
 Lady Lilias Vavasour was, of course, 
 excepted from this sweeping conclusion ; 
 and she might have fought hard for per- 
 mission to join in her morning avocations, 
 had she ever been invited to do so. 
 But the Lady Vavasours' parents were 
 wary, discreet persons, resolute in never 
 receiving any one at their house whom 
 they would object to as a connection. 
 They had two or three prudent reasons 
 for refusing to let their eldest daughter 
 turn her favourite ball-acquaintance into 
 a friend. They had an only son on his 
 return from Italy; they had ascertained 
 the fortune of Colonel Barry ; and they 
 were not a little disappointed at Lord 
 St. Lawrence for his indifference to their 
 Beauty. Such cool observers soon sus- 
 pected the cause of this indifference. 
 
 Alicia had often felt pained by the 
 seeming disproportion of her partiality 
 for Lady Lilias when compared with 
 hers. Yet hoping to be at last admitted
 
 COMING OUT. ^^ 
 
 to greater intimacy than she could enjoy 
 in mere pleasure parties, she had conti- 
 nued going to them all, principally to 
 meet her, and to experience the relief of 
 partly opening her locked-up heart to 
 one inclined for sympathy. When Lady 
 Lilias bade her farewell, though it was 
 with tears and many a kindly-expressed 
 wish, she did not ask to hear from her. 
 Alicia was afflicted at this omission, and 
 could not recover from the pain it caused, 
 until Lord St. Lawrence told her how 
 pathetically Lady Lilias had lamented to 
 him her removal from her new friend, 
 as her father particularly discountenanced 
 girls' correspondence. This explanation 
 at once satisfied and soothed Ahcia, and 
 though she understood the Vavasours 
 would be absent for a year or two, she 
 indulged the hope that, upon their re- 
 turn, she and Lady Lilias might renew 
 their intimacy. 
 
 Hitherto she had put so deep an inte- 
 rest into her meetings with Lady Lilias, 
 that now the latter was gone, the gay 
 quadrille, or playful j^w^z' cle societe, which 
 vary Brighton Avinter parties, and supply
 
 424 COMING OUT. 
 
 the place of London's crowded assem- 
 blies, were utterly tasteless. It is true, 
 a feverish excitement went with her 
 everywhere, making her feel restless while 
 out of society, simply from having lost the 
 habit of concentrating her mind upon 
 quiet occupations : but as yet she had no 
 especial object of pursuit to mar or make 
 enjoyment for her, as she had been told 
 would be the case after a short time ; 
 going to balls not for the sake of dancing, 
 and to concerts not in the hope of hearing 
 fine music, but to seek some one, to meet 
 that one, to be all absorbed by that one ; 
 or to miss some valued person, and, caring 
 for nobody else, come away vexed or dis- 
 appointed. This was not her case, since 
 she had no longer the expectation of 
 meeting Lady Lilias Vavasour ; yet did 
 she feel conscious, that she was bloom- 
 ing and shedding her innocent sweets 
 upon a tainting air ; withering more and 
 more, while shrinking less and less from 
 its pernicious breath. 
 
 Alicia's imagination caused her to 
 ascribe qualities to Lady Lilias which the
 
 COMING OUT. 
 
 4^5 
 
 latter did not possess ; therefore she be- 
 lieved that had she preserved such a kind 
 andjudicious companion, her course would 
 have been smoothed. She considered 
 herself left in a giddy whirl, where not 
 one redeeming feeling could be called 
 forth by way of set-off against the con- 
 sciousness of incessant dissipation. 
 
 Alicia had the faults incident to gentle- 
 ness of character, when left solely to na- 
 ture : — timidity in action and opinion ; 
 hesitation of purpose, when pain to others 
 is the possible consequence of decision ; 
 and something of that moral cowardice 
 which may be harassed into abandoning 
 the outworks of great principles. Con- 
 science, however, was so tender in her 
 still, that she regretted every one of her 
 sins of commission or omission, although 
 firm resistance against future assaults of 
 the same kind was daily becoming more 
 difficult to her. 
 
 This had been instanced by her repug- 
 nance to flaring through every sabbath 
 as if it were' man's ordinance, to be used 
 for his entertainment, yet doing it after
 
 4^6 COMING OUT. 
 
 all : — it had been instanced by her having 
 discontinued going to church when Lady 
 Donnington went not, and would not 
 spare her the carriage ; because that in 
 walking thither, only followed by a ser- 
 vant, she was so watched for by the inferior 
 classes, that she could not stand the 
 stinging pleasantries about the number 
 and quality of her admirers, which met 
 her at her return : — it was yet further in- 
 stanced by her increased uneasiness under 
 the utter uselessness of her present life 
 (to say no worse of it), and her increasing 
 feebleness in resisting her mother's false 
 arguments when employed in her letters 
 to make her happy and yielding. 
 
 Alicia, indeed, could not shut her eyes 
 upon the criminal waste of time to which 
 she was now positively tasked by the ca- 
 price of a self-called friend, and what 
 seemed to her the senseless ambition of 
 her mother. She literally wasted nearly 
 the whole of every day. Late hours at 
 night, in consequence of very late dining, 
 had long demolished the valuable prac- 
 tice of earlv rising ; and when she rose,
 
 COMING OUT. 4^7 
 
 it was to loiter over a breakfast-table, 
 where Lady Donnington often kept her 
 momentarily expecting her for an hour 
 or two, and from which there was no 
 moving until the presiding deity chose 
 to go. After that, notes were to be an- 
 swered that had meanwhile been pouring 
 in, and usurping the conversation by 
 their petty subjects. Invitations Were to 
 be given, or accepted, or refused ; plans 
 of amusement arranged ; dresses consi- 
 dered ; morning visitors seen. 
 
 Alicia, as secretary, (the province of 
 most young ladies who write an elegant 
 hand) spent half the day at this unin- 
 teresting business, in which slie was, how- 
 ever, perpetually interrupted by new sug- 
 gestions of Lady Donnington's, or by 
 ridiculous interpolations proposed by one 
 or other of the many male idlers who 
 seemed born for no other purpose than 
 to knock once a day at the door of Lady 
 Donnington's house, and to say agreeable 
 nothings before its mistress. 
 
 Then followed riding, driving, prome- 
 nading, practising new quadrilles or new
 
 428 COMING OUT. 
 
 music ; lounging into libraries or on the 
 disagreeable beach ; all the ceaseless va- 
 rieties, in short, of sea-side sauntering. 
 After that again, the hurrying home to 
 dine and dress for the late tea-party, 
 which, though neither so stifling as the 
 routs, nor so intoxicating as the balls of 
 our metropoHs, has its own sort of ine- 
 briation : the night drained like the day 
 of all its refreshing sweetness, — tired 
 limbs, jaded spirits, an aching head, — 
 often a sick heart. So ended nearly every 
 day and night with those who lived un- 
 der Lady Donnington's roof. 
 
 Alicia could not register such days and 
 nights, when noting them down in the 
 journal kept for her mother, without 
 mourning over their emptiness. At Castle 
 Barry she well knew she had had pleasures, 
 but they were simple ones ; such as the 
 full hand of nature provides, and the 
 guileless, happy heart finds all-sufficient : 
 — pleasures far above those invented by 
 man, which prove their insipidity, by 
 never being received with any thankful- 
 ness by those who most frequently ban-
 
 COMING OUT. 429 
 
 quet on them : Heaven's bounties, on the 
 contrary, when truly relished, are vividly 
 acknowledged ; and gratitude itself is an 
 additional pleasure. 
 
 At Castle Barry Alicia knew she was 
 not only happy but useful. Sick servants, 
 failing labourers, motherless children, 
 whom she had herself ministered to when 
 no one else cared to do it, could testify 
 to this pleasing remembrance, — to say 
 nothing of her domestic duties cheerfully 
 performed, and elegant studies regularly 
 pursued. Here, she did nothing useful : 
 she knew not where to seek objects of dis- 
 tress, and if she did, Lady Donnington 
 would not hav^e heard of her doing it in 
 person. And if when giving casual alms 
 from the carriage window, she was moved 
 to know more of the beggar's circum- 
 stances, she could only employ her maid 
 or her man ; the first was out of the 
 question, from not speaking a word of 
 English ; and the second was too fine a 
 gentleman to trouble himself further than 
 ending the matter at once by a conve- 
 nient falsehood. The poor petitioner was
 
 430 COMING OUT. 
 
 always reported to have been an impos- 
 tor; and though Alicia sometimes doubted 
 her servant's performance of her commis- 
 sion, or his truth in stating the result, she 
 had no means of discovering the cruelly 
 selfish cheat. 
 
 Of one thing, however, such vexations 
 convinced her, — that a life which so tho- 
 roughly absorbs every power of the body 
 and soul, which makes it impossible for 
 the best-disposed mind to think seriously 
 for five minutes together, and the kindest 
 heart to practise deeds of charity, cannot 
 be the life which God approves, and man 
 was created for. She felt, too, that such 
 a life, long pursued, unfits the person ha- 
 bituated to it for the enjoyment and per- 
 formance of those sacred duties which 
 may be resumed, but which will be found 
 hard of exercise, after the habit of dissi- 
 pating thought has been once established. 
 
 " Country life for our home — town 
 life for rare holiday ! " she often sighed 
 to herself as she turned on her uneasy 
 pillow, after frivolous evenings, during 
 which she had not met one interesting
 
 COMING OUT. 431 
 
 person. Her circle of intimates was so 
 small, and she was beginning to see so 
 much rivahy, ill-nature, envy, and sel- 
 fishness under such fair exteriors, that 
 the void left by Lady Lilias Vavasour in 
 her . regard, seemed destined for Lord 
 St. Lawrence to fill. 
 
 He began his approaches to intimacy 
 by talking to her of her absent friend. 
 Alicia listened to such a theme with 
 pleasure, especially as he could tell her 
 tlie movements of the Vav^asour family 
 abroad : he next spoke of her ov>^n rela- 
 tions, managing to evince interest in them 
 unmixed with curiosity : then he intro- 
 duced himself, mingling, as he related 
 anecdotes of his travels, confessions of 
 former thoughtlessness and present re- 
 gret, with the most picturesque descrip- 
 tions and romantic histories. Thus, al- 
 ternately delighting and interesting, he 
 won insensibly upon the feelings of 
 Ahcia, teaching her to consider him as 
 one like herselfi born for better things 
 than he was doing, full of fine aspirations, 
 high desires, good purposes, and refined 
 sensibilities, yet conscious to the crimi-
 
 432 COMING OUT. 
 
 nality of having mis-spent time, and con- 
 tracted injurious habits. Quick and keen 
 is the interest excited by confessions of 
 faultiness, where the penitent is young 
 enough to have his inexperience taken 
 into the account for palUation ; and 
 though they sometimes prove delusive, 
 they are generally too sincere when ut- 
 tered to be suspected. 
 
 Of all modes of interesting, none is so 
 seductive and so sure : — sympathy with 
 the offender, admiration of his candour, 
 approval of his good intentions, perhaps 
 the mental enjoyment of listening ix> pa- 
 thetic or impassioned language, and the 
 unconscious pleasure of being singled out 
 for such a confidence, all conspire to 
 render it dangerous. Let such confi- 
 dences, then, be ever received with trem- 
 bling and distrust, by soft and tender 
 woman ; let her guard her heart well 
 against taking too deep an interest in the 
 reformation of the erring professor : ever 
 remembering that confession is not amend- 
 ment; that the finest moral taste, and 
 liveliest admiration of virtue, may be
 
 COMING OUT. 433 
 
 coupled with passions unbroken by the 
 only power that can control their im- 
 petuosity ; and that we rarely confess sins, 
 except in prayer, when we really consider 
 them with the shame and remorse which 
 we would have believed. 
 
 Once excited to interest in Lord St. 
 Lawrence by these occasional convers- 
 ations, Alicia listened to what she had 
 hitherto been inattentive to — his cha- 
 racter wlien canvassed by others. She 
 read a speech he made in the House of 
 Lords, at the opening of the session ; and 
 she took the evidence of his benevolently- 
 bright countenance. Friends and enemies 
 spoke of him as the magnificent patron of 
 all the arts, and as a promoter of every 
 charity as well as pleasure. His elo- 
 quence in the senate had been exerted in 
 favour of humanity ; and his expression 
 of countenance when he smiled was so 
 sweet and happy, that it obliterated the 
 elfect of anotlier expression often seen 
 there — dark, brooding thought. She could 
 not beheve, she did not believe, tliat such 
 a smile ever came from a bad heart or 
 VOL. I. u
 
 434/ COMING OUT, 
 
 bad temper. She could imagine Lord Str 
 Lawrence yielding to temptation, never 
 deliberately seeking forbidden things of 
 any kind ; and it was to the remembrance 
 of such human frailty alone that she 
 imputed that occasional look of gloomy 
 unquiet. 
 
 In some of their conversations during 
 rides, when his Lordship contrived to keep 
 her and himself either much before or 
 much behind the others of Lady Donning- 
 ton's party, she gathered from him, first 
 playfully, then seriously, that his re- 
 ligious education was defective ; and 
 catching at some of his expressed doubts, 
 as the key to all his self-dissatisfaction and 
 inability to be what he wished, she incau- 
 tiously undertook to impart to him what 
 she had been taught by Rose M^'Manus 
 and Jocelyn Hastings. 
 
 The man who had so kindly effected a 
 change in Lady Donnington's Sunday 
 habits, and who rather expressed a desire 
 of becoming more worthy the name of 
 Christian, than boasted a belief that reason 
 was competent to guide us alone to peace
 
 COMING OUT. 435 
 
 and purity — that man was surely worthy 
 of some benevolent exertion. Alicia's 
 motive was, in fact, so pure, and Lord 
 St. Lawrence had so long acted the part 
 of entire devotion to Lady Donnington, 
 that her protegee did not for a moment 
 suppose herself the attraction ; she there- 
 fore saw no harm or impropriety in aiding a 
 fellow-creature's sincere efforts to become 
 wiser and better ; believing herself bene- 
 fited by conversations, however short, 
 and merely shadowed out, which neces- 
 sarily brought her own deficiencies more 
 strikingly before her. 
 
 It was the error of youth — compas- 
 sionate, zealous, imprudent, inconsiderate 
 of self; and foolishly apt to imagine that 
 all it wished to do, it ought to do ; but it 
 was an error, and might have been fatal 
 to her peace or her respectability, had 
 Lord St. Lawrence been less honourable, 
 and more confident that she was interested 
 in him from a tenderer cause than mere 
 benevolence. 
 
 As it was, doubtful of having any power 
 over her, and anxious to acquire it, the 
 u 2
 
 436 COMING OUT. 
 
 young Earl now began to throw all her 
 other admirers at a distance, by the steadi- 
 ness with which he followed her. Long 
 before Alicia was aware of the report, or 
 in the least suspicious of her influence 
 over this courted personage, every one 
 was speculating upon Lord St. Lawrence's 
 conduct; wondering whether it would 
 not end in his making a fool of her, ** or 
 whether she had any reason for believing 
 him serious.'' 
 
 Lady Donnington, to whom the question 
 was sometimes insinuated, and sometimes 
 broadly put, sincerely professed entire 
 ignorance of the gentleman's plans, and 
 the young lady's expectations ; unvary- 
 ingly repeating, " I never interfere : I 
 regularly let people go their own way. 
 If Lord St. Lawrence means any thing, 
 he will write to Miss Barry's father ; and 
 if he don't. Miss Barry is too sensible to 
 commit herself." What Lady Donning- 
 ton meant by the word commit, thus used, 
 is doubtful ; it was capable of so many 
 interpretations: every hearer construed 
 it to their own liking. One said, her
 
 COMING OUT. 437 
 
 Ladyship gave them to understand that 
 Miss Barry was cool-headed, and knew 
 how to keep her heart cool also, for the 
 sake of advantage ; another said, it was 
 intended to show her up as ungratefully 
 close to her great friend the Countess 5 
 a third averred, that it proved Miss Barry 
 was practised in the art of appearing in- 
 nocently unconscious, when in reality 
 angling for several good offers at the same 
 time ; and a few others took the ground 
 of supposing she had won away his Lord- 
 ship from Lady Lilias Vavasour, therefore 
 must be looked upon as an undermining, 
 deceitful person. 
 
 It did not suit Lady Donnington either 
 to apprise Alicia of the circulating report, 
 or to show Lord St. Lawrence that she 
 knew such a one existed: she neither 
 wanted to hurry on nor to hurry off a 
 match between them ; sufficient for her 
 that the current of fashion was again 
 setting strongly towards herselfi instead 
 of to Princess Azorinski. That dreaded 
 foreigner once out of England, an event 
 said to be in immediate prospect, and 
 u 3
 
 438 COMING OUT. 
 
 Donnington House blazing anew with all 
 the London world, its selfish mistress 
 would not care what mortification or ele- 
 vation awaited her protegee, Alicia, 
 therefore, uninformed and unwarned, was 
 left wholly without a pilot upon an un- 
 known and treacherous ocean; smooth 
 to the eye, dark and storm-brooding below. 
 She was daily made sensible of her own 
 attractions by the looks and language of 
 several men, who were either struggling 
 against or rushing into violent passions for 
 her. Yet, happily, she had a delicacy of 
 such shrinkingness, that none of them 
 could ever entrap her into the semblance 
 of a flirtation with them. She w^as in 
 danger of incurring that imputation solely 
 on Lord St. Lawrence's account ; the 
 very man, whom, of all others, she con- 
 sidered but as one disposed to friendship 
 for her, and for whose mixed character 
 she felt only a sort of benevolent interest. 
 A whisper of compliment from Lord St. 
 Lawrence had never reached her ear; 
 and whenever he sat with her apart after 
 a quadrille, or during a ride or walk
 
 COMING OUT. 439 
 
 managed to secure a sort of tete-a-tete 
 between them, his conversation was always 
 either serious, or purely upon matters of 
 taste. During these conversations he was 
 flattered by finding how easily the hu- 
 mility of his fair companion made her bend 
 to his stronger mind, upon every sub- 
 ject where intellect and information were 
 to decide ; and better pleased to observe 
 how firmly (though timidly as to manner) 
 she maintained such opinions as are in- 
 separable from a right principle. Com- 
 placency, then, would have been fatal to 
 her power over him. 
 
 • In return, Alicia was grateful, for Lord 
 St. Lawrence's own sake, to perceive that 
 he was sincere in his wish, of settling 
 and strengthening certain convictions 
 which had of late pressed upon his 
 heart. He read every book she recom- 
 mended, when she blushingly owned that 
 she had neither the ability nor the pre- 
 sence of mind to repeat all the arguments 
 they had taught her in support of 
 what she wished him convinced of; and 
 he often gratified her by showing that 
 u 4
 
 440 COMING OUT. 
 
 they had enlarged and confirmed his best 
 views. Thus gravely occupied by him, 
 even in scenes of gaiety, she came in- 
 sensibly to treat him with a sweet famili- 
 arity, which she believed to be solely the 
 consequence of his frequent, nay, con- 
 tinual domestication atLadyDonnington's 
 house ; but which he began to translate 
 into the thrilling hope of a dawning affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Mrs. Barry's folly first checked this 
 free intercourse. She had exacted a 
 journal from her daughter, to be for- 
 warded through one of the foreign offices. 
 The contents of these journals — innuen- 
 does, and admiring sentences in news- 
 papers, English gossip carried into Pari- 
 sian society, and the assertions of some 
 correspondent of the Miss Ponsonbys, 
 made this unwise mother believe her 
 daughter certain of being a countess. 
 In the full flood of her expectations, one 
 day she wrote almost a congratulatory 
 letter to her daughter, owning that such 
 a marriage had ever been the secret wish 
 of Colonel Barry and herself; and that,
 
 COMING OUT. 441 
 
 under existing circumstances, it was a 
 perfect Providence, as it would at once 
 remove all obstacles to family comfort, 
 and open bright prospects to their ba- 
 nished son. 
 
 Alicia would have smiled at her 
 mother's misapprehension, as she be- 
 lieved it, about Lord St. Lawrence, had 
 she not grieved at the sure disappoint- 
 ment which must follow such ill-grounded 
 expectations, and had not an allusion 
 to newspaper paragraphs made her re- 
 turn with trepidation to one which had 
 met her eye that very morning. At the 
 moment she had barely glanced over, 
 without comprehending it : now she look- 
 ed for the paper, and with a kindling 
 cheek read as follows : — *' It will sur- 
 prise the world of fashion, and of the 
 fine arts, to learn, that a certain young 
 nobleman, distinguished in both, is said 
 to be in treaty, not for the original ex- 
 quisite picture of the Marcella, now on 
 sale at Christie's, but for a beautiful 
 copy by some obscure hand, lately 
 brought over from a sister country. We 
 u 5
 
 442 COMING OUT. 
 
 hear that every amateur is in astonish- 
 ment at this circumstance, knowing that 
 the original might be bought for a frac- 
 tion of what is demanded for the inferior 
 Marcella.'' 
 
 Ahcia laid aside the paper with trem- 
 bling and alarm. She was not the more 
 tempted to believe in Lord St. Lawrence's 
 inclination for her ; but she was led to 
 see the imprudence of acting naturally in 
 artificial society. Lookers on, had evi- 
 dently never given either of them credit 
 for the calm rationality which she fancied 
 was equally the character of their attrac- 
 tion to each other in the small Brighton 
 parties ; and envy or mere ill-nature had 
 chosen to represent her as inferior cer- 
 tainly to the set in which she was now 
 moving. 
 
 Pride, delicacy, conscious purity of 
 motive, and innate abhorrence of co- 
 quetry, made her start from the report 
 which this newspaper insinuated. It w^as 
 impossible for her to doubt who w^as 
 meant, and what w^as meant; yet she 
 could not complain of it, since her own
 
 COMING OUT. 443 
 
 indiscretion and softness had given too 
 plausible a pretext for the inference evi- 
 dently drawn from her frequent association 
 with Lord St. Lawrence. And the pre- 
 posterous profuseness of her expenses 
 almost invited the derisive tone in which 
 her inferiority of condition was noticed. 
 
 At first, she shed tears of mixed humi* ' 
 liation and resentment ; then rejoiced 
 that Lord St. Lawrence was gone for a 
 few days to London, to attend a call of 
 the House of Peers, and that probably 
 he would be too much occupied to read 
 the chit-chat columns of any daily jour- 
 nal : finally, she came to the decision, 
 that from this moment she must avoid 
 that intimate companionship with him in 
 particular which had laid her open to 
 these cruel remarks, and which Lord St. 
 Lawrence would assuredly dislike to have 
 thus interpreted into a purpose of which 
 he too was innocent. 
 
 Alicia's heart was in tumults. She 
 
 wished to act rightly, and she dreaded 
 
 acting too precipitately. She felt that a 
 
 judicious friend to act for her, and place 
 
 u 6
 
 444 COMING OUT. 
 
 her out of sight while efforts were made 
 to efface this unfounded and injurious 
 report, was what she ought to seek. 
 But where was she to find such an 
 one ? Lady LiUas Vavasour was gone, 
 and Lady Donnington withered every 
 thing Hke confidence. Whenever Alicia's 
 tremulous voice betokened a mustering 
 of her spirits for some communication 
 concerning herselfi that lady adroitly 
 managed to introduce some observation 
 unfavourable to what she termed the 
 habit of egotism, repeating, " I never 
 could endure your secret-tellers, and I 
 never pry into other people's concerns — 
 I have no curiosity." 
 
 Such expressions silenced without sa- 
 tisfying. Youthful sensibility truly taught, 
 that having no curiosity was, in fact, 
 having no human interest ; that a lively 
 concern for the moral and temporal wel- 
 fare of our fellow-creatures is natural to 
 most hearts, and is commanded to all, 
 by the authority of our gracious religion. 
 Youthful diffidence, however, had not 
 the hardihood to utter this warranted opi- 
 20
 
 COMING OUT. 445 
 
 nion, and the discouraged spirit retired 
 therefore within itself. 
 
 The chief of the difficulties which she 
 thus wished to be guided through by 
 some kind and experienced hand, was 
 her embarrassment how to silence certain 
 professing admirers, whose familiar entree 
 at the marine villa left her ear always at 
 their mercy, and who yet came not to 
 such distinct declarations as warranted 
 her in requiring their acceptance of a 
 decided negative ; and how to act by 
 certain young married women from whom 
 she was every day sensible of receiving 
 the bitterest insults under a mask of 
 pleasantry. A word from Lady Don- 
 nington to them all, seemed as if it 
 would have protected her completely j 
 but Lady Donnington had more than 
 once stopped her pathetic representations 
 with the satirical exclamation of — ** How 
 very distressing to be so very handsome, 
 my dear Miss Barry !" Could any 
 young and bashful nature persevere 
 in the conversation? Alicia wept her 
 painful, profitless beauty \ for to her
 
 446 COMING OUT. 
 
 it seemed only the cause of grief, persecu- 
 tion, and mortification : it surrounded her 
 with admirers, — but had she any friends? 
 Where were they to be found, except in 
 the few across the Atlantic, and the 
 poor cotters in her own country, who 
 would have loved the hand that mini- 
 stered to them, equally well, whether fair 
 or withered ? It exposed her to impu- 
 tations of which she knew herself unde- 
 serving, and could only indemnify her 
 by affording the triumph of vanity ; a 
 triumph she abhorred both from feeling 
 and principle. 
 
 Her mother, to whom alone she could 
 confide her uncomfortable feelings, treat- 
 ed them as morbid and absurd, silencing 
 complaints against the wasteful use of 
 money, which her present situation forced 
 her into, by light entreaties that she 
 would leave her parents to judge what 
 they could or could not afford, and not 
 by any rash changes cause people to 
 imagine that some humiliating misfor- 
 tune had happened to their affairs. 
 
 From the tenor of Mrs. Barry's present 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 447 
 
 letter, Alicia at once concluded that her 
 mother had from the first been deceived 
 by her wishes, and supposing Lord St. 
 Lawrence's visits at the marine villa solely 
 intended for her daughter, had therefore 
 left her to contend with the many minor 
 evils of her association with Lady Don- 
 nington. It accounted for her slighter 
 notice of every other pretender to her 
 daughter's favour; and the latter thought 
 that could she but remove this delusion, 
 she would no longer find her mother deaf 
 to her entreaties of being permitted to 
 join her in France. 
 
 Animated by this hope, which if 
 realised would spare her the torture of 
 partly explaining her feelings to the most 
 worldly and cold-hearted woman on 
 earth, she endeavoured to quiet the 
 throbs of shame and indignation which 
 kept swelling in her heart throughout 
 the day ; and when she joined Lady 
 Donnington after dinner (the latter hav- 
 ing dined in her own dressing-room, as 
 was often her capricious custom), she
 
 448 COMING OUT. 
 
 was composed enough outwardly, to 
 escape narrow scrutiny. 
 
 Lady Donnington's salutation was a 
 sort of outcry at a tulle- dress, which she 
 chose to call utterly spoiled ; adding, that 
 unless Miss Barry were less penurious, it 
 would be impossible for her to go about 
 in London like other people : that she 
 must positively write to Mrs. Barry and 
 ask for a fresh order on the banker, 
 otherwise every thing would soon come 
 to a stop. 
 
 Alicia seized upon the plea thus of- 
 fered, and reminding her Ladyship, that 
 her mother seemed to have understood 
 her child's expenses would be limited to 
 the sum she had left for her use, timidly 
 urged her own abhorrence of further im- 
 posing upon her parents' generosity, and 
 her personal dislike of expending so much 
 money upon dress and amusements. She 
 stammered out many grateful acknow- 
 ledgments for all her Ladyship's kind 
 acts and kinder purposes ; but ventured 
 to say, with some decision, that she 
 thought it must now be evident that it
 
 COMING OUT. 449 
 
 was her duty to resist the temptation of 
 accompanying her Ladyship to London. 
 
 Lady Donnington's momentary irrita- 
 tion sparkled from her eyes, and tingled 
 to her very fingers' ends ; but she quelled 
 it : London was not to be tried without 
 Miss Barry. For the first time since she 
 had condescended to exercise sovereignty 
 over her, she stooped to use a bait for 
 securing her aid. ** So !*' she exclaimed, 
 affecting the pathetic ; " you would leave 
 me in the very heat of the battle, after 
 you have made yourself so delightful, and 
 so impossible to be parted with ! How 
 unkind of you, my dear Miss Barry ! 
 And what is to become of all your ad- 
 mirers, open and concealed? — from Har- 
 vey Stapylton, with Fenelon's Tele- 
 machus always in his pocket, creased 
 down at the page of Eucharis, to my 
 Lord St. Lawrence, with that little sen- 
 timental bit of Marcella riband, by way 
 of watch chain?" 
 
 The blush which this caressing re- 
 proach brought to the very eyes of Alicia, 
 was not the herald of delighted conscious-
 
 4«50 COMING OUT. 
 
 ness, as her hearer supposed, but the 
 flush of sudden apprehension. Lady 
 Donnington had never before given a 
 single hint of this nature ; she had hi- 
 therto appeared to appropriate Lord St. 
 Lawrence entirely to herself. Her pre- 
 sent words, however light, were either 
 declarative of a different opinion, or were 
 meant falsely to propitiate her young 
 companion's vanity ; and Alicia, all pal- 
 pitating and agitated, besought her to 
 remember that she had from the first 
 disclaimed any thought of Lord St. Law- 
 rence, except as her Ladyship's friend 
 and devoted follower : adding, ** I know 
 there are persons who fancy me foohsh 
 enough to believe otherwise ; — I am 
 most earnest to escape from such insult- 
 ing suppositions. Until to-day I did not 
 quite understand many things that have 
 been said to me; — now I do: — and I 
 wish, therefore, for your leave, dear ma- 
 dam, to go to my mother." 
 
 Alicia's hand fluctuated, as she would 
 have drawn the offensive paragraph from 
 her pocket, which she had torn out of
 
 COMING OUT. 4)51 
 
 the paper. Lady Donnington's instantly 
 cold air withered her purpose. 
 
 " Well !'' she exclaimed, " if you are 
 tired of me — if you find me so very dis- 
 agreeable ! — Not a word by way of ci- 
 vility ! — I am not the least vexed at you. 
 Your mother shall decide this knotty 
 point between us. I will write and tell 
 her what you wish ; and her answer, of 
 course, will say whether I am to have 
 the real pleasure of taking you about in 
 London, or how I am to send you pro- 
 perly to her." 
 
 The last sentence was said with a re- 
 turn of good-humour ; and Alicia felt as 
 if such briefness of displeasure stamped 
 herself ungrateful. She answered with 
 emotion, expressing this sentiment, and 
 thus showing Lady Donnington how 
 easily a generous nature may be warped 
 from steadiness, if left unsupported. 
 
 " You have no right to make yourself 
 more amiable, since you are determined 
 to leave me !" interrupted her Ladyship, 
 increasing her companion's compunctious 
 feeling, while aware of her own deliberate
 
 452 COMING OUT. 
 
 intention to thwart her right inclinations. 
 " Let us end the subject. Do you go 
 and sing to me ; and I will take to my 
 dear sofa for a quarter of an hour, before 
 people come in." 
 
 Lady Donnington received her friends 
 every evening, whether she did or did 
 not go afterwards to other houses. So- 
 ciety amongst a certain description of 
 persons is upon a much easier footing 
 than that of secondary ranks : thus idlers 
 went and came, or were turned out, in- 
 differently. Sometimes nothing was re- 
 sorted to but conversation ; at other times, 
 forfeits, houts-rimes, acted charades, &c. 
 music or dancing frittered away the 
 greatest part of night. Alicia had never 
 taken a greater share in the musical par- 
 ties than playing duets or accompanying 
 a singer, as her voice always failed when 
 agitated ; and Lady Donnington, having 
 no occasion for more charms in her fair 
 lure, contented herself with profiting now 
 and then by her ability to sing a favourite 
 air, when quite familiarized to Jier au- 
 ditors.
 
 COMING OUT. 453 
 
 On the present occasion she stretched 
 herself along the couch, by way of rest- 
 ing a sprained foot, while Alicia, assured 
 that she was either going to sleep or 
 wholly indifferent about the music, began 
 and went nearly through the pretty bal- 
 lad of " Isabel" (then just popular) 
 with the pathos of a voice singing only 
 to itself and to memory. She had often 
 sung that air with its original words, when 
 learning Spanish of Jocelyn Hastings; — 
 sung it to the guitar he had tuned! 
 Tears crowded into her eyes, and her 
 voice first saddening, then swelling im- 
 perfectly, at once failed her : — she stop- 
 ped ; her fingers resting on the keys of 
 the piano, and her eyes fixed on vacancy. 
 
 Unexpected music, if in the least agree- 
 able, has always more effect than a supe- 
 rior kind, when anticipated and waited 
 for. Let any one recall his lively plea- 
 sure at the sudden strain of a horn, or of 
 a voice, passing by on the water, or 
 breaking upon the stillness of a solitary 
 walk, and say, whether his emotion was
 
 454 COMING OUT. 
 
 not far more pleasurable than that which 
 a regular concert excites ! 
 
 Whether it were from this common 
 cause, or really from uncommon sweet- 
 ness in the soft sighing tones of Alicia, 
 or from the touching expression she gave 
 to the words of the air she sang, may 
 not be determined ; but one or all ar- 
 rested the steps of Lord St. Lawrence as 
 he entered the ante-room, whence he ad- 
 vanced, after a moment's pause, exclaim- 
 ing, '' O do not stop, Miss Barry 1" 
 Alicia, however, rose on the instant in a 
 tremor, merely from having been caught 
 singing, and somewhat startled by his 
 Lordship's appearance. The confusion 
 created by this detection, and a con- 
 sciousness of thoughts which she never 
 indulged without after-repentance, height- 
 ened the surprise and apprehension oc- 
 casioned by Lord St. Lawrence's quick 
 return from London. She was all em- 
 barrassment ; so that his Lordship was 
 excusable for placing the blushes, the 
 hurried breathing, and trembling move- 
 ments to his own account : had she raised
 
 COMING OUT. 455 
 
 her timid eyes, she could not have mis- 
 taken the expression of his. He moved 
 away, however, to the sofa upon which 
 Lady Donnington was yet half recum- 
 bent, where he was soon busied in con- 
 dohng with her accident, and setthng her 
 footstool. 
 
 Lady Charles Everleigh, who had fol- 
 lowed close upon his Lordship, joined 
 their party, and one or two other per- 
 sons coming in soon afterwards. Lady 
 Donnington begged Miss Barry would 
 have the goodness to make tea. Alicia 
 hastened to obey. 
 
 " Mercy on us ! you are going to have 
 an assembly!" cried Lady Charles, al- 
 ways upon the fret at something. " I 
 came for a visit of charity to your sprained 
 ancle, while Caroline is dressing for Lady 
 Forsyth's : — I had no notion you were 
 to have crowds ; — and every body be- 
 lieved Lord St. Lawrence was in Lon- 
 don ; and here he is in his place. Truly, 
 my Lord," she added, facing round upon 
 him with equal ill-humour, " you are an 
 example for the whole peerage ! I never
 
 456 COMING OUT. 
 
 knew a man so constant to hi^ duty. I 
 am told there have not been above half 
 a dozen bills carried through the upper 
 house with your Lordship's name in the 
 proxy list. Of course parliament is up, 
 or prorogued, or something, by your 
 coming back amongst us so soon." 
 
 « Spare me, Lady Charles !" was the 
 half-playful yet rather embarrassed an- 
 swer. " I plead guilty to being much 
 too fond of Brighton." 
 
 «« Oh, I dare say ! — However, you will 
 contrive to live out of it when all your fa- 
 vourites are gone. You will go to London 
 whenL^dy Donnington goes, of course?" 
 
 " Of course," repeated the smiling 
 Earl, recovering his complexion. 
 
 ** And you are to give us all sorts of 
 pleasant things at your new house ! — 
 What are they to be ?" 
 
 " All sorts of pleasant things," echoed 
 his Lordship. 
 
 " Oh ! " with a long breath which 
 made the elegant aspiration sound very 
 much like the rustic ejaculation of humph, 
 " You "were to have opened your house
 
 COMIN<J OUT- 457 
 
 with a grand concert, I was told; but 
 now I hear it is to be a ball." 
 
 " Now it is to be a ball! " provokingly 
 persevered the echo. 
 
 <* I don't think that quite sure, for all 
 you say so," resumed Lady Charles, 
 glancing significantly at Alicia. " You 
 are so good-natured, that you will like to 
 show off your friends to advantage: so if 
 any particular one sings better than they 
 dance, good bye to our ball." 
 
 The echo was silent. LadyDonnington 
 was speechless with laughter. 
 
 ** Will any lady do the honours for 
 you ? " asked her cross Ladyship. 
 
 " Will any lady do the honours for me?" 
 pathetically questioned her echoer, turn- 
 ing towards the sofa. 
 
 " Oh! then Lady Donnington is to 
 be your Lady Patroness ?" 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence repeated her words 
 with a bow of graceful gallantry, and the 
 exulting Countess, stretching out her 
 hand in token of pleased assent, in one 
 moment was settled, what had never en- 
 tered Lord St. Lawrence's thoughts be- 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 458 COMING OUT. 
 
 fore, that he should give a few great par- 
 ties in London, and have five or six female 
 friends of a certain age, to enact the mis- 
 tress of the revels on separate evenings. 
 Lady Charles Everleigh grew furious ; so 
 furious that she ceased to have any com- 
 mand over herself; and, in her eager pro- 
 phecy that Lady Donnington would be 
 embroiled for the whole season with every 
 body Lord St. Lawrence excluded from 
 his parties, afforded him a happy oppor- 
 tunity of regretting that after such an 
 opinion he could never dare to solicit 
 Lady Charles Everleigh to invite or re- 
 ceive his company. 
 
 " I don't know how you will manage 
 with your Polish Princess," she resumed 
 with fresh bitterness. — No one spoke. — 
 "As she and LadyDonnington do not visit, 
 it may be awkward. You had much bet- 
 ter marry, my Lord, and give us some new 
 person at once ; then none of us will 
 quarrel for the lead." 
 
 " It would be the height of my ambi- 
 tion to be quarrelled for," said his Lord- 
 ship, with provoking raillery. More and 
 more vexed by his commanded counte-
 
 COMING OUT. 459 
 
 nance, and by what she thought the posi- 
 tive apathy of Ahcia, for whose ear she 
 meant the words, ** better marry," Lady 
 Charles muttered something about prac- 
 tised tempers, pretty images, Ufeless dolls, 
 &c., and abruptly going up to the tea-table, 
 asked if Miss Barry had ever heard of 
 Lady Baskerville's bread-and-butter par- 
 ties ? The expected negative enabled 
 her to pour out another torrent of black 
 bile, much to the amusement of the two 
 or three persons laughing and talking to 
 Lady Donnington. 
 
 '* Oh ! I should have thought you had 
 been brought up in the house, you make 
 tea so like those girls. You have quite 
 got their taking way of bending and bow- 
 ing over the cups ; and your work by 
 you there, just like them, by way of look- 
 ing Homeish. — What excellent things 
 those bread and butter parties were. Lady 
 Donnington !" (raising hervoice and look- 
 ing back at the sofli). " You remember 
 how we all laughed at them when they 
 began : but they quite answered. Lady 
 JBaskerville got off' all her Louisa-La- 
 X 2
 
 460 COMING OUT. 
 
 vinias, and Sophia-Susannahs. Two Dukes 
 and two Earls ! — Lord St. Lawrence 
 would have been quite worthy of those 
 parties : don't you think so, Miss Barry ? *' 
 Alicia, not knowing what to say, merely 
 bent her head in sign of polite attention. 
 Her angry interrogator once more looked 
 back towards the sofa. ** Pray, Lady 
 Donnington, does your young lady speak 
 only a certain quantity in the day ? — We 
 have just found out that she has plenty 
 of breath for singing wonderfully ; but, 
 as often as I have had the honour of being 
 in her company, I have never been able 
 to extract ten words out of her." 
 
 Alicia, who was presenting her with 
 some tea, smiled, while she blushed ; en- 
 quiring whether to be accused of silence 
 were not a very flattering compliment to 
 a woman ? Lady Charles Everleigh eyed 
 her from head to foot, first uttering ano- 
 ther lumpish <* oh !" and then exclaiming 
 '< extremely smart! " as one of the new- 
 comers called out " bravo ! " and left the 
 sofa for the tea-table. 
 
 Alicia turned to him for relief and re-
 
 COMING OUT. 461 
 
 fiige. Her increasing sense of Lady 
 Charles Everleigh's meaning, and the 
 recollection of that paragraph which had 
 agitated her in the morning, making her 
 scarcely able to conceal the bodily ner- 
 vousness which both occasioned. What 
 she began saying to this young man she 
 knew not, nor what he answered : her 
 distress, however, was obvious ; and Lord 
 St. Lawrence hastened to avert Lady 
 Charles's catechising, by reclaiming her 
 conversation. 
 
 " So you do me the honour of saying, 
 that I should have been quite worthy of 
 the Baskerville House parties? How very 
 kind of you. Lady Charles! — But I was 
 not so lucky : they were all over, and 
 the Lady Baskervilles married, and their 
 agreeable mother dead, before I left col- 
 lege. You would have liked them, Trevor 
 (addressing the youth talking to Alicia) ; 
 they were so exactly what we men fancy 
 sometimes much pleasanter than great 
 assemblies, where we are so often tired 
 to death with being amused. The Bas- 
 kervilles always stayed so late in town on 
 X 3
 
 462 COMING OUT. 
 
 the old Lord's account, that they chose to 
 live there after a sort of country fashion : 
 a certain set, really of intimate friends, 
 were privileged in walking in every even- 
 ing out of the parks, or before they went 
 to other societies, in hats and bonnets, 
 where they found a regular, comfortable 
 tea table " 
 
 *' To say nothing of the trash- table in 
 the corner, with sweeties and wash le- 
 monade," interrupted Lady Charles, 
 contemptuously. Lord St. Lawrence went 
 on, after thanking her for the marginal 
 note. — "At which sat two of the lovely 
 Lady Baskervilles distributing tea, while 
 the others sat at work, talking or getting 
 up at a friend's request, to play and sing 
 as girls do for their brothers. Unless any 
 of them were going to a ball afterwards, 
 nothing could be simpler than their dress; 
 in short, the whole thing, Henry May- 
 nard tells me, had such an air of home, 
 that no man was taken there once, that 
 did not try for admittance a second time." 
 
 " Yes, and was always taken in ! '* 
 laughed out Lady Donnington, in a
 
 COMING OUT. 463 
 
 raised tone. " Do forgive my little joke, 
 Lord St. Lawrence." 
 
 " O, I think it is your Ladyship that 
 has much to forgive ! " exclaimed Lady 
 Charles Everleigh exultingly, darting 
 another black look at the innocent Alicia, 
 for having attracted the young Earl into 
 their circle. *' Lord St. Lawrence is abus- 
 ing large parties, and praising little poky 
 tea-and- toast things 1" 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence was not easily dis- 
 concerted. He smiled, and looked in the 
 direction of the sofa. <* E'en so. Lady 
 Charles ! — What must be the power that 
 has either changed my natural taste, or 
 makes me act contrary to it !" 
 
 " Well done, St. Lawrence ! '' from a 
 gentleman ; " Perfect, my Lord ! " from 
 Lady Donnington herself 5 and *' Vastly 
 well got out of! " from two other ladies, 
 proclaimed Lady Charles Everleigh's dis- 
 comfiture. The victor, however, was dis- 
 appointed : Alicia's determinately-down- 
 cast eyes had rendered his expressive 
 glance at her a vainly-shot arrows 
 
 Lady Donnington was in higli good 
 X 4
 
 464 COMING OUT. 
 
 humour. *' Those Baskerville House par- 
 ties were really very amusing," she re- 
 sumed lightly, — "the different people and 
 different costumes were so entertaining. 
 As I dined late, I always looked in, when 
 I came from my morning drive. Sober 
 folks, like the Duke and Duchess of Ri- 
 verhill, stalked in after having taken their 
 summer's evening walk : — other persons 
 chatted away an hour or two on their 
 way to the opera, or to the last Almack's. 
 Lady Charles, will you ever forget her 
 Grace of RiverhilPs huge leather feet, 
 when somebody got up a waltz ? or Sir 
 George Thoresby with his umbrella ? and 
 when we met him the next evening, 
 composedly walking under it in the rain at 
 Vauxhall, every other creature in full 
 flight: — Oh, how very good ! " 
 
 "Oh yes, very good indeed ! " repeated 
 Lady Charles. "Nobody, except Lady 
 Baskerville, would have let a great wet 
 umbrella be brought into a drawing-room; 
 but she knew her cards, and she won the 
 game. Sir George was known to have a 
 pet nephew as well as a pet umbrella : it
 
 COMING OUT. 465 
 
 was monstrous clever of her : I wonder 
 if Lord Hamlyn suspects that he owes his 
 wife to his uncle's umbrella ?'' 
 
 " I rather fancy he attributes it to the 
 ordinary circumstance of his having been 
 exceedingly in love with his wife," was 
 Lord St. Lawrence's provoking remark. 
 Even Ahcia could not help directing a 
 smile and an eyebeam towards him after 
 he had said this. Lady Charles saw both 
 that and the brightening effect. " It is 
 quite a thing to grieve about," she re- 
 sumed abruptly, " that your Lordship did 
 not come in for one of the Lady Basker- 
 ville's, or at least for one of their mo- 
 ther's parties ; but I dare say you will 
 find plenty of people ready to oblige you, 
 and get such parties up again for your 
 accommodation." 
 
 " O certainly !" observed Lady Don- 
 nington in a master-tone of apparent un- 
 meaningness, " any mother that is shrewd 
 enough to see how well this plan an- 
 swered formerly, is likely enough to try 
 it for her own daughters now : parti- 
 cularly when such a grande partie is in 
 X 5
 
 466 COMING OUT. 
 
 question. O, my Lord, you must hear 
 horrid truths sometimes." 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence was now positively 
 embarrassed : he tried to laugh off the 
 effect of one lady's rude assault, and an- 
 other's hardy pleasantry ; and as Lady 
 Charles hastily bade good night while 
 new visitors were entering, retreated to 
 the table where Sir Edgar Trevor was boy- 
 ishly busy in assisting Alicia. 
 
 The impotent ill-humour of Lady 
 Charles Everleigh afforded such inex- 
 haustible amusement to her ordinary ac- 
 quaintance, that although for ever irri- 
 tating and insulting them, she was never 
 cut by any one ; but kept to be played 
 with, as mischievous boys tease their dogs 
 for the pleasure of seeing them snap and 
 bite. The door had no sooner closed 
 upon this unpopular personage, than 
 Lady Donnington, with all the humour 
 possible, began entertaining her party 
 with an imitation of her Ladyship through- 
 out the past scene ; every now and then 
 calling upon Lord St. Lawrence to bear 
 witness to its accuracy, as he continued 
 ^0
 
 COMING OUT. 467 
 
 bending over Alicia at the table where 
 her duty of tea-making kept her almost 
 stationary. 
 
 Young Trevor enjoyed the imitation 
 of Lady Charles Everleigh so much, and 
 went into such convulsions of laughter at 
 the recollection of the passion she was in, 
 that Alicia could not forbear from gently 
 expressing her own sorrow to see any 
 creature with such an unhappy temper ; 
 and her own notion that it was not right 
 to assist in making a bad person worse, — 
 that it was not humane to find pleasure in 
 their torture. Lord St. Lawrence owned 
 it was the same temper which made 
 people fond of the combats of gladiators, 
 and Spanish bull-fights. 
 
 " And will you not add bull-baiting ?'' 
 asked Alicia with steady earnestness. 
 
 Sir Edgar Trevor started : " O no ! not 
 the least like those Roman and Spanish 
 things : — they were fine manly diver- 
 sions — all amongst gentlemen. — Bull- 
 baiting is so low ! so vulgar ! " 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence undertook to prove 
 that the same principle might be found 
 X 6
 
 468 COMING OUT. 
 
 the origin of eacli : and having to do with 
 an ingenuous mind, only too easy of con- 
 viction, therefore not very stable, gained 
 the victory for Alicia's conscientious hu- 
 manity. 
 
 " It would be happy for us chameleon 
 creatures, who so often take our colour 
 from the opinions of your sex," ejaculated 
 Lord St. Lawrence as Sir Edgar sprung 
 across the room at a summons from Lady 
 Donnington, *' if such kind trouble as 
 you have just bestowed. Miss Barry, upon 
 that fine boy, were often er taken to cor- 
 rect us. I fear you would not show as 
 much interest in one a few years older 
 than he." 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence paused. — Alicia did 
 not think it necessary to answer : — she 
 was not yet herself: every variation of 
 tone or look in her companion agitated 
 her, because she could not help recur- 
 ring perpetually to the paragraph about 
 herself and his Lordship ; trembling lest 
 he guessed she had seen it, lest he believed 
 her pleased with it, or lest he did indeed 
 think of her with growing inclination.
 
 COMING OUT. 469 
 
 Under cover of the incessant laughter 
 produced at the farther end of the room 
 by a task of doggrels set by Sir Edgar 
 Trevor to a slow-witted person, Lord St. 
 LawTence continued talking most inte- 
 restingly of himself, in a sort of confiden- 
 tial tone w^hich his late habit of avowing 
 unsettled opinions and new view^s war- 
 ranted him in using to his uneasy auditor. 
 But she heard him not as heretofore; and 
 her varying complexion betrayed the 
 change. Perhaps Lord St. Lawrence di- 
 vined the cause of this emotion (for he, 
 too, had seen the morning paper), and 
 thrilling at the translation he made of it, 
 pursued his confessions with softer ear- 
 nestness. 
 
 Though frequently interrupted by oc- 
 casional attendance upon Lady Donning- 
 ton with tea. Lord St. Lawrence suc- 
 ceeded in sketching his family history. 
 An early widowed father living abroad, 
 first in a diplomatic character, then for 
 health's sake : his own boyhood, mean- 
 while unrestrained by near kindred, and 
 uncheered by having a home to come to ;
 
 470 COMING OUT. 
 
 his youth spent amongst gay foreigners, 
 and often exiled from his father's sick 
 room, yearning for the fire-side society of 
 England, yet obliged to seek an equiva- 
 lent in the soirees of France or the con- 
 versaziones of Italy. 
 
 Such was the brief tale he told, with a 
 voice of dangerous, half-suffocated feel- 
 ing. Alicia's generous sympathies were 
 all aw^akened by it, her nearer interests 
 laid asleep ; and, gently regarding him, 
 she said, '' Surely you would find some 
 charming famiUes abroad, if not fire-side 
 ones ?" 
 
 " Too surely," was Lord St. Law- 
 rence's reply, unaware of what he was 
 saying ; " but the man who domesticates 
 himself in such as I have had experience 
 of, is rarely so fortunate as the visitors of 
 Lady Baskerville. Instead of a precious 
 wife, he too often brings away bitter, 
 bitter recollections." 
 
 Alicia's altered look recalled Lord St. 
 Lawrence ; and apprehensive that he 
 might have awakened too clear an idea 
 of his meaning, he added, with a smile —
 
 COMING OUT. 471 
 
 " I myself fairly plead guilty to having 
 many wrong notions (as you know) and 
 worse habits to unlearn. This neglect- 
 ing of serious duties for instance, of which 
 Lady Charles Everleigh was so obliging 
 as to remind me ; this philandering away 
 my time at Brighton, when I ought to 
 have been through the whole sitting of 
 Parliament in London. I fear (hesitating 
 and keeping down his eyes) my case is 
 hopeless, unless some gentle hand will 
 undertake it." 
 
 Precisely at this embarrassing moment 
 one of the loungers by the sofa, who 
 had hitherto been kept back by the pre- 
 valent report of Lord St. Lawrence's se- 
 rious attentions to Miss Barry, thinking 
 ample time had been allowed him for one 
 or two tender speeches, now approached 
 to say, that if the reservoir of tea were 
 not exhausted, he would supplicate for 
 some, or else set up an opposition tea- 
 table on the instant. 
 
 Every body of course laughed at this 
 flippant threat, as was expected ; while 
 Alicia, happily called into action by the
 
 47^ COMING OUT. 
 
 demand, recommenced her employment ; 
 and as the snug coterie swelled to a dozen 
 persons, her tea-making went on all the 
 night ; conversation becoming general, 
 and lessening therefore Lord St. Law- 
 rence's opportunities of creating an espe- 
 cial interest in himself. 
 
 What he had said, however, was not in- 
 effective : while all were buzzing and 
 trifling round her, Alicia felt a kind of 
 companionship with his mind alone ; 
 simply because he had given her some 
 glimpse of what every person possesses 
 in a degree, — natural feeling. She was 
 touched by his avowal of past and present 
 error ; little imagining to what extent he 
 required indulgence, nor against how much 
 dreaded, though not very probable expo- 
 sure, he was trying to prepare haj; And 
 she could not help acknowledging that 
 his manner to her on this evening was 
 obviously particular. Her heart beat 
 quicker at the thought ; yet not plea- 
 surably even now. A wish to escape, — 
 a dread of being finally caught, — a faint 
 hope that Lord St. Lawrence was merely 
 21
 
 COMING OUT. 47^ 
 
 enjoying in her society at Lady Donning, 
 ton's what he professed so much to like, 
 were the paramount causes of that heart- 
 fluttering. She endeavoured to avert his 
 particularity by dividing her notice 
 amongst several. 
 
 One of the last persons announced, 
 was Lord Lewis Rivers, who, on arriving 
 from a short tour in Germany, had been 
 w^elcomed by the account of Lady Don- 
 nington's great friendship with Lord St. 
 Lawrence. He now entered the room 
 where his rival was, in no agreeable hu- 
 mour. Such are the petty miseries of 
 vanity ! Lady Donnington's especial fa- 
 vour had long ceased to afford his Lord- 
 ship the least pleasure, yet the possible 
 loss of it stung him to the quick. 
 
 Lord Lewis Rivers, not having seen 
 Alicia before, was so struck by the splen- 
 dour of her complexion, that he was some 
 time of recovering his usual manner. 
 Alicia turned disordered and displeased 
 from his uncivil stare ; while he, in his 
 ordinary half-alive way, asked Lord St. 
 Lawrence how he was, and what was
 
 474 COMING OUT. 
 
 become of his friend Princess Azorinski. 
 ** O ! by the way, Lady Donnington," 
 he continued, " is there any truth in the 
 report, that you and Madame are about 
 to coalesce? What a formidable admi- 
 nistration you might make of it! On one 
 side, all the talents (bowing to Lady Don- 
 nington) ; on the other — how shall I get 
 out of the sentence ? — Do help me, St. 
 Lawrence ; you are the best acquainted 
 with what sort of influence the fair Pole 
 has at command." 
 
 " Fair !" was the general exclamation, 
 with lifted hands. 
 
 " Certainly not beauty, I admit," was 
 the reply to the last question. 
 
 Lord Lewis yawningly accused Lord 
 St. Lawrence of having *' ratted abomi- 
 nably from the Hotel Azorinski ;" telling 
 Lady Donnington, that if she patronised 
 such proceedings, he would certainly 
 cross over himself to the deserted 
 benches. *« I have no doubt but I shall 
 find it immensely amusing," he conti- 
 nued, in the 'same tone of impertinent 
 carelessness : " we have overheard such
 
 COMING OUT. 475 
 
 delicious nonsense from her ! Do you 
 remember, Lady Donnington, that day 
 we met her high mightiness at Knowle ? 
 
 * O de pretty ittle savage flower 1' 
 when she saw the wood anemones. And 
 
 * O de mean woman — money for de 
 mean woman !' when some poor animal 
 was pestering at the gate. I hope, St. 
 Lawrence, you did not take lessons in 
 English from her Highness before you 
 made your famous speech ?" 
 
 *« Not exactly from her language : 
 her feeling, you perceive, is worth copy- 
 ing,'* was his Lordship's perfectly good- 
 humoured, yet pointed reply. 
 
 Lady Donnington, with a gracious air 
 of suppHcation, entreated Lord St. Law- 
 rence's pardon for laughing at his greatest 
 friend, excusing herself by saying she 
 was laughing then at an absurd joke 
 somebody had put about on the subject. 
 They said Princess Azorinski studied 
 mistakes every morning out of the dic- 
 tionary of synonyms." 
 
 " My greatest friend ! Nay, this is too 
 perfidious in the fair cause of my delin-
 
 476 COMING OUT. 
 
 quency, to call up the ghost of con- 
 science ! Miss Barry, will not you pro- 
 tect me ?" 
 
 " Not from the ghost of a single act 
 of fickleness !" returned Alicia, drawing 
 back as he approached her. 
 
 " Walk forth and hang thyself, St. 
 Lawrence after this," said Lord Lewis 
 Rivers : — " but stay — not before thou 
 hast presented me to Miss Barry. Won't 
 you ? Well then, Miss Barry, out of 
 pure public-spiritedness, I beg leave to 
 present Lewis Rivers (Idler), and that 
 merely to depose that I cannot give his 
 Lordship a character for constancy, ex- 
 cept as touching certain political ques- 
 tions, for which no rational animal, 
 except himself and the ministers, care 
 one rush." 
 
 <* O ! but that says a great deal for 
 the defendant," cried a pretty pleasant 
 woman : ** people are scarcely ever good 
 by halves." 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence eagerly expressed 
 a hope that Miss Barry was as much in- 
 clined to charitable constructions as Mrs,
 
 COMING OUT. 477 
 
 Chetwynd. Alicia owned she was ac- 
 customed to take the evidence of plain 
 matter-of-fact ; and saw no reason why 
 Lord St. Lawrence could not add one 
 friend to his list, without striking off 
 another. 
 
 Lady Donnington started half off her 
 sofa at this courageous yet hurriedly- 
 spoken question ; but, afraid of commit- 
 ting herself i laid her head back again. 
 
 *« Swamped ! utterly swamped !" was 
 called out by a slovenly young man, 
 notorious for passing his life in yachts 
 and cutters. " Floored !" cried Sir 
 Edgar Trevor, who, just transplanted 
 from Eton to a regiment of hussars, was 
 already enrolled in Lady Donnington's 
 corps of followers. " Off! off!" reiter- 
 ated an elegant patron of theatres. 
 " Poor Lord St. Lawrence !" ejaculated 
 Mrs. Chetwynd. 
 
 " It would be vain for a man to go 
 upon his defence before a packed jury," 
 resumed Lord St. Lawrence, affecting- 
 perfect composure. ** I shall reserve my 
 statement of facts until I am fortunate
 
 478 COMING OUT. 
 
 enough to find my two fair judges by 
 themselves." 
 
 " No, no," clamoured the young 
 hussar : " a speech, my Lord ! make a 
 speech ! It will be capital fun, Lady 
 Donnington. Order him out to make a 
 speech. Let 's parade all his parliament- 
 ary stuff. St. Lawrence is used to bully 
 the opposition." 
 
 " I vote for the speech by all means," 
 rejoined Lord Lewis Rivers, infinitely 
 pleased with the mischief he had done ; 
 '* and if it be but half so pathetic as his 
 Lordship's notable appeal for the slaves 
 or the slave-drivers, I really forget 
 which, we must all prepare for w^oe ! 
 Handkerchiefs, your handkerchiefs, 
 ladies !" 
 
 " A table-cloth for my tears !" chimed 
 in the laughing Trevor, " or that huge 
 jar. Out with the pot-pourri. Rivers. 
 Now, my Lord, I am ready to weep 
 floods." 
 
 Lady Donnington was in fits of 
 laughter : every body laughed. Even 
 Alicia could not forbear laughing at the
 
 COMING OUT. 479 
 
 joyous earnestness with which the young 
 hussar actually emptied the jar of its 
 aromatic contents upon the delicate Per- 
 sian carpet, in defiance of Lady Don- 
 nington's screaming threat of perpetual 
 banishment. But the very action gave a 
 new direction to mirth. Along with the 
 dried mixture of bay-salt and orange- 
 flowers came rolling out cards, notes, 
 roUed-up exhibition catalogues, and more 
 than one forgotten duster, by way of 
 testimony to the house-maid's merit. 
 
 Sir Edgar Trevor hailed the hidden 
 treasures of the jar as a prize equal in 
 value to that memorable pair of pockets 
 which were once dropped in full assem- 
 bly at a certain great house in Piccadilly, 
 and occasioned the immediate going out 
 of that useful appendage to a woman's 
 apparel. While he was recapitulating, 
 upon his mother's authority, all the 
 things found in this ludicrous prize, 
 and others were reading the notes aloud, 
 and Lady Donnington was scolding them 
 for spoiUng her carpet, Lord St. Law- 
 rence hastily seized the attention of
 
 480 COMING OUT. 
 
 Alicia. His object was to clear himself 
 from the charge of caprice. In doing so, 
 he spoke with such warmth of regard 
 and respect for Princess Azorinski, and 
 adverted so pointedly to her knowledge 
 of, and allowance for, the cause of his 
 changed habits, that even his inexpe- 
 rienced auditor could not be insensible to 
 the strain of his excuses and the urgency 
 of his manner. As he added, *' I hope 
 one day to gain your permission to defend 
 myself fully," her eye, sinking under 
 the soft fervour of his, fell upon his 
 watch-riband. The instant suffusion of 
 her cheeks showed that she had either 
 noticed its colour, or that she understood 
 Lord St. Lawrence's last words. 
 
 Confused, and conscious of being con- 
 fused, she said something that implied 
 she laid the blame upon Prince Azo- 
 rinski*s disagreeableness. Lord St. Law- 
 rence hastened to do justice to his absent 
 friend ; and in fewer words than he had 
 employed in vindicating the Princess and 
 himselfi convinced Alicia that all three
 
 COMING OUT. 481 
 
 had been wantonly misrepresented to 
 her. 
 
 " I assure you his high character 
 honours her affection," said Sir Edgar 
 Trevor slowly, repeating his Lordship's 
 last expression as he overheard it, and 
 mimicking his tone : *' who are you 
 defending now, my Lord ? It will be too 
 bad of you if you have been making 
 speeches to Miss Barry, and chousing us 
 out of them, while we were digging up 
 curiosities from the ruins of Lady Don- 
 nington's china jar. Miss Barry, allow 
 me the honour of presenting you with 
 this remains of an ancient fan ; and you, 
 my Lord, with this MS. in the hammer- 
 headed characters." 
 
 " Nail-headed, thou hopeless anti- 
 quary !" amended Lord Lewis Rivers. 
 " I quote the review of some horrid 
 travels." 
 
 " O ! by the way," resumed young- 
 Trevor, " has any body read George 
 Brandon's Travels ? Do you thin k the 
 fellow really met a hippopotamus at the 
 top of Pompey's pillar?" 
 
 VOL. I. y
 
 48^ COMING OUT. 
 
 " You absurd creature!" exclaimed 
 Lady Donnington, flattering his wilful 
 etourderie by a smile. 
 
 Young Trevor rang the bell : a servant 
 entered. " Be so good, sir, as tell the 
 housemaid or housemaids that they de- 
 serve hanging, drawing, and quartering, 
 for this pretty mess, of which I am inno- 
 cent." The grave-looking servant bowed. 
 " Do you sweep it all up forthwith ; and 
 if not expeditiously and efficaciously, so 
 that Lady Donnington may not have the 
 slightest ground to sue me for spoiling 
 her carpet, I '11 scratch you out of my 
 
 will." 
 
 The well- trained domestic bowed again 
 with unaltered gravity, and retired. 
 
 <« Did you ever see such a fellow ?" ex- 
 claimed Sir Edgar. 
 
 «< What integrity of respect !" yawned 
 Lord Lewis Rivers. 
 
 « Oh, if my groom of the chambers 
 were not made of lead, such a ridiculous 
 creature as you, Sir Edgar, must render 
 him impertinent." 
 
 To be thought ridiculous, in the way
 
 COMING OUT. 483 
 
 Lady Donnington used the term, being 
 the height of the young hussar's ambition, 
 he was enchanted. Lord Lewis Rivers's 
 taste being for eminence in the Hne of 
 insolence, indolently observed, that he 
 could not testify to Mr. Black or White's 
 merit, her Ladyship having got quite a 
 new set about her since he had last had 
 the honour of kissing her feet." The ex- 
 pression was equivocal, and might apply 
 either to her Ladyship's hired servants or 
 to her wiUing slaves. Lady Donnington 
 was satisfied : for pique proclaimed 
 power, and that was her aim. 
 
 A re-entry of servants, and the speedy 
 removal of litter from the floor, changed 
 the current of conversation. Ahcia ascer- 
 taining that no more tea was wanted, be- 
 took herself to learn the mystery of 
 knotting chenille by the side of Mrs. 
 Chetwynd, that she might escape from 
 the gentlemen ; and Lord Lewis Rivers, 
 calling out, " Who will play at words ?" 
 directly drew a small table to the sofa, on 
 which Lady Donnington partially rechned, 
 and began writing down the set of dis- 
 Y 2
 
 484 COMING OUT. 
 
 jointed nouns substantive, &c. which 
 are furnished for every person playing the 
 game, and which each is to weave into a 
 sentence, containing an anecdote or moral 
 remark, or mere jest, as the writer's 
 talent inclines. 
 
 In a moment half a dozen pens were 
 going as fast as possible, amidst laughing 
 and exclaiming at blunders and difficul- 
 ties ; one person insisting upon having a 
 peep at the other's performance, to help 
 their own lame wit ; bolder ones actually 
 snatching at the desired prize. Lady 
 Donnington's voice was heard over all, 
 instructing or expostulating. The first 
 mover of the diversion proved his superior 
 acquaintance with it, by almost immedi- 
 ately constructing a sentence into which 
 the given words were perfectly woven ; 
 but which no one, except Lady Donning- 
 ton, was permitted to see. At first read- 
 ing it, she exclaimed against his " abo- 
 minableness 1" then laughed excessively, 
 vowing " he must have something to do 
 with the Age ;" while he, protesting his 
 present jeiix-d* esprit was only an act of
 
 COMING OUT. 4S5 
 
 memory since the morning, tore up the 
 paper, and left its nature to be guessed 
 at by the other aspirants. Lord St. Law- 
 rence, who had hitherto remained turning 
 over the leaves of a new pubhcation, as 
 if skimming them, yet in what Sir Edward 
 Trevor maintained was «^a bolt-upright, 
 fast-asleep state " to their contents, now 
 seemed roused by the gay hussar's re- 
 peated cries of ** a call of the House, my 
 Lord !" and, throwing aside the book, 
 came forward to the populous quarter of 
 the room. 
 
 In passing Alicia, from whose side 
 Mrs. Chetwynd had just gone to shake 
 hands with Lady Donnington, and go 
 away, he laid down a folded paper, and 
 said, in an under tone, " This must be 
 your property. Miss Barry, from the 
 name I caught a glimpse of." He passed 
 on, without having been observed by any 
 one. 
 
 AUcia, glancing at the paper, which 
 was a letter taken out of its envelope, 
 saw her mother's hand-writing ; and con- 
 cluding, from its great length, that it was
 
 486 COMING OUT.' 
 
 indeed one to herself, hastily put it 
 into her work-basket; wondering when 
 she could have dropped it, and what it 
 contained. Her consternation and alarm 
 subsided when she recollected "the MS. 
 in the nail-headed characters,'* which Sir 
 Edgar Trevor had presented to Lord St. 
 Lawrence within the last half houi^ which 
 had therefore come from the housemaid's 
 repository for rubbish, and could not be 
 any of Mrs. Barry's later epistles. 
 
 Only in her last letters had Mrs. Barry 
 mentioned Lord St. Lawrence ; and al- 
 though Alicia was certain that no well- 
 bred man would purposely read a line not 
 addressed to himself, without being as- 
 sured of the writer's permission, she 
 would have felt humiliated had it been 
 possible for him to have caught a glimpse 
 of his own name in her mother's writing. 
 
 Reassured by this conviction, there- 
 fore, and vividly grateful for his Lord- 
 ship's attention to her feelings, she joined 
 the group round the sofa, most of whom 
 were now upon the move for departure. 
 Lord St. Lawrence's approach had been
 
 COMING OUT. 487 
 
 the signal for a cessation of laughing and 
 whispering amongst some of them, and for 
 a termination of young Trevor's scram- 
 bUng efforts to regain and reunite the 
 scattered fragments of Lord Lewis Ri- 
 •vers's remembered newspaper paragraph. 
 He was a youth of pliant materials, whom 
 a straw would bend to any good-natured 
 direction, and, if he supposed it so, to 
 any harmless one : shrewdly suspecting 
 the nature of those Sibyl's fragments, the 
 moment he saw Lord Lewis Rivers look 
 uneasy he tore the scraps he had col- 
 lected, and joined him in saying good 
 night. 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence very soon followed 
 their example ; and the next quarter 
 of an hour took away every visitor. After 
 that, Alicia escaped to her own room, 
 always averse to a tete-a-tete with Lady 
 Donnington, whose conversation, when 
 not decorated for company, was hard and 
 unpleasant, flowing as it did from a 
 worldly spirit unsoflened by constitutional 
 tenderness, unchanged by a higher power, 
 
 Alicia sat down on her low French bed, 
 y 4
 
 488 COMING OUT. 
 
 less pleased than ever with Lady Don- 
 nington, less satisfied tlian formerly with 
 her own belief of Lord St. Lawrence's 
 attentions being solely directed to the 
 governing mistress of the mansion, and 
 more distressed therefore about the con- 
 duct she should observe towards both. 
 
 There had been a time when if the 
 same convictions had been pressed upon 
 her by the remarks of others, and by 
 Lord St. Lawrence's manner to herself, 
 she would have believed it probable he 
 only sought her from a habit of admiring 
 new faces, or aimed but at a triumph of 
 vanity. Now she could not, would not 
 think so; his conduct towards her had 
 been marked throughout with delicacy, 
 and she durst not deny with an appear- 
 ance of serious intention, which made 
 her heart tremble. Had passing admir- 
 ation animated him, or had cold vanity 
 prompted, he would have singled her 
 out at first for compliment and appropri- 
 ation. This had not been the case ; his 
 notice of her had grown with their ac- 
 quaintance; his particularity had followed
 
 COMING OUT. 489 
 
 their sympathy lipoft points of feeling and 
 conduct. All this looked dreadfully like 
 honest, fair-meaning attachment. — Of 
 any sentiment for Lord St. Lawrence, 
 which would voluntarily have led her to 
 seek his affection, or even to profit by it, 
 Alicia found herself wholly void ; but she 
 now knew her parents' ardent wishes, nay 
 hopes — • and she had ever believed it to 
 be the bounden duty of a child to strive 
 at'cbmplying with the lawful desires of a 
 pkrent. She was not so ignorant of what 
 rank and riches bestow, nor so insensible 
 of their value as to be unmindful of the 
 sacrifices Lord St. Lawrence would 
 make were he seriously to propose for 
 her, and the advantages she would derive 
 were she to accept his hand. She ad- 
 mitted, that he interested her, — that he 
 pleased her, — that she had seen no one 
 in England she liked half so well, — that 
 all she had first heard to his discredit had 
 been since unsaid or explained. Why 
 then did she feel such heavy-heartedness, 
 while summing up these evidences in 
 favour of what her mother longed for ? 
 Y 5
 
 490 COMING OUT. 
 
 " I have not known him Jong enough 
 to be sure he is all that he appears : that 
 must be the reason. If I could be as cer- 
 tain of his character as of Jocelyn's — " 
 The suspended sentence was not ended. 
 
 Without a friend to hold the light to 
 her heart, Alicia remained for some time 
 musing over this idea, assured that a 
 thorough conviction of Lord St. Law- 
 rence's worth was alone wanting to dimi- 
 nish her repugnance to the mere com- 
 placency of trying to find him what he 
 seemed. 
 
 Of Jocelyn Hastings's principles and 
 conduct she had from childhood been 
 completely informed ; because she had 
 not only seen him every day, under every 
 variation of humour, but heard him freely 
 spoken of by others, under the different 
 impressions of their varying humours. 
 The result was, an amount of testimonies 
 to his excellence. With Lord St. Law- 
 rence she was differently situated : she 
 knew him solely in the dressed circle of 
 female society, and that not home so- 
 ciety j she knew none of his relatives,
 
 COMING OUT, 491 
 
 from whose unguarded expressions an 
 individual's temper and degree of worth 
 may be fairly gathered : she had not a 
 single confidential friend moving in the 
 same circle with him, to note his actions 
 when out of Lady Donnington's society ; 
 and those who had dropped hints to his 
 prejudice were obviously either so en- 
 vious of him or of herself, that she could 
 not be weak enough to rely upon their 
 testimony. 
 
 Thus, having no candid representation 
 of Lord St. Lawrence to ground her own 
 conclusions upon, and as yet but a super- 
 ficial acquaintance with his heart, how 
 could she contemplate without shrinking 
 the yielding obedience to her mother's 
 last injunction, — " accept him directly, 
 Alicia, if he proposes : no hesitation, I 
 beseech you ?" 
 
 At this part of her long self-enquiry, 
 she searched her work-basket for the 
 letter Lord St. Lawrence had so consi- 
 derately restored to its supposed owner. 
 What w^as her surprise and bitter feel- 
 ings to find it one from her mother, to 
 y 6
 
 492 COMING OUT. 
 
 which, as she read on, she found she 
 had not been made privy, and which at 
 once destroyed her confident belief of 
 being freely invited by Lady Donnington 
 to pass the season in England. 
 
 The adulatory strain of this letter, 
 the evident anxiety of its writer to get 
 her daughter asked by Lady Donnington, 
 the broad allusions to the unconscious 
 victim's great sense of obligation, were 
 she to be honoured by such distinguish- 
 ing friendship, the description of Alicia's 
 dancing, and of the sensation produced 
 by that and her beauty at the member 
 
 for 's ball, were so many repeated 
 
 blows to a heart at once delicate and in- 
 genuous. The poor girl was almost 
 stupefied by the shock, holding the open 
 paper in her hand, scarcely conscious 
 whether she were truly awake. 
 
 Every one of her views was for the 
 moment changed. Lady Donnington, 
 wooed into making her an inmate of her 
 house, was now painfully elevated into 
 a person granting an important suit. She 
 was justified in having shown surprise.
 
 COMING OUT. 493. 
 
 nay anger, at Alicia's avowed indifference 
 to all the advantages which companion- 
 ship with her and her high society con- 
 ferred upon a private gentleman's daugh- 
 ter, ambitious of display. She was posi- 
 tively generous in never having onee 
 hinted at the circumstance which had 
 induced her to undertake the guidance 
 of her intractable youth ; and she was 
 further kind in avoiding all mention of 
 Lord St. Lawrence's partiality, most 
 likely lest she might by unseasonable 
 railleries frighten or pique Alicia into 
 disappointing her parents' wishes. But 
 what had been Mrs. Barry's part in this 
 transaction? A daughter hid her eyes 
 when she would have looked on it. Tears, 
 bitter, bitter tears, yet no word of com- 
 plaint, were witness to her filial sorrow 
 and disappointment. She thought of her 
 boasted face, and believing it the prin- 
 cipal source of this grief and mortification, 
 sincerely wished she might have ex- 
 changed it for one that would have a 
 charm only in the sight of real affection. 
 «* Ah ! dearest Flora !" she exclaimed, 
 2
 
 494 COMING OUT. 
 
 apostrophising her absent sister, " you 
 httle knew what you wished when you 
 wished for such a face as mine ! What 
 have I got by it, except shame and 
 vexation, and cruel exile from all I love 
 dearest?" Alicia's full heart yearned 
 for pouring out ; but she was in the 
 frightful solitude of the world, where to 
 her every man and woman was only a 
 mocking shape, devoid of substance and 
 of soul. She had no intimates there, save 
 Lord St. Lawrence, the very being she 
 must not confide in. She would not 
 throw herself into the arms of her sister's 
 sympathy, because that would be un- 
 veiling the faults of their mother ; and 
 she could not speak to Lady Donnington 
 on the subject, because Mrs. Barry's own 
 language was not to be explained away 
 by her daughter. 
 
 Alicia had no way of unburthening her 
 feelings except to Mrs. Barry herself; 
 and to her mother, therefore, she deter- 
 mined to write on the morrow. 
 
 Ere she began to undress, her maid came 
 more than once to the door, to hear if she
 
 COMING OUT. 495 
 
 were wanted ; and at length quite tired of 
 submissive waiting, ventured to tap, and en- 
 quire if Miss Barry were ready to undress ? 
 Alicia admitted her for a few moments ; 
 then pleading extreme weariness, dis- 
 missed her again, and sighing over all the 
 vanities of her situation, addressed her 
 nightly prayer to the Father of mercies, 
 with a deeper sense of her utter depend- 
 ence upon Him for all of light and good 
 which had shone or might yet shine upon 
 her path of life. 
 
 The very next day two very different 
 letters went from the marine villa to 
 France. Lady Donnington kept to her 
 bond : she communicated to Mrs. Barry 
 in brief what had passed betv/een her and 
 her young chaa'ge ; simply asking whether 
 she chose Miss Barry to stay or go ? Ex- 
 pressing perfect willingness to part with 
 or retain her. All this, however, she 
 neutralized, by adding, that although 
 Mrs. Barry knew she had from the first 
 begged never to be called upon to advise 
 or persuade the young lady on the sub- 
 ject of marriage, it was right to let a mo-
 
 496 COMING OUT. 
 
 ther know that every body talked of Lord 
 St. Lawrence's particularity to her daugh- 
 ter, and that it was expected he would 
 ceitainly propose to her. Of course his 
 Lordship would wish to see if Miss Barry 
 made as great a sensation in London as 
 at Brighton. If Mrs. Barry liked to let 
 her girl take the probable chance of such 
 a brilliant estabhshment, she must be so 
 good as say what sum she would allow 
 for her expenses during the next three 
 months ; for so long Lady Donnington 
 thought she should stay in town. After 
 which, Miss Barry would be free to re- ' 
 cross the Irish channel, either as Lady 
 St. Lawrence in fact or in prospect. A**'" 
 list of Alicia's admirers was curiously"^^^ 
 given by way of balance to a longer list ^ 
 of forthcoming demands upon Colonel ^ 
 Barry's bank notes ; and the letter con- 
 cluded by a few hastily-recollected "hopes 
 that Mr. Barry continued to send good ac- 
 counts from India, and would very soon 
 come home." 
 
 Alicia's letter contained as clear an ac- 
 count of her feelings, and of Lord St.
 
 COMING OUT. 497 
 
 Lawrence's manner towards her, as slie 
 could make distinct to her own apprehen- 
 sion. She was conscious that she had in- 
 deed shut her eyes upon the increasing 
 testimonies of his interest in her, rather 
 than his admiration ; and this, not from 
 a hu'king spirit of coquetry paltering with 
 conscience, but from some occult averse- 
 ness to be loved by him, and to love him 
 in return ; from genuine unwillingness to 
 exchange the peace and privacy of a 
 middle station for the stir and show^ of 
 exalted rank ; from a consequent dread 
 of the pains and persecution which were 
 likely to follow the serious tender of his 
 hand ; and from a dread of being led by 
 unsuspected vanity into giving a mean- 
 ing to his friendhness and courtesy, which 
 might cause her to become ridiculous. 
 She called upon her mother to remember 
 how ill she was fitted for a station of 
 great responsibility and representation; 
 her natural timidity, self-distrust, and 
 bashfulness, making even momentary si- 
 tuations of the kind painful to her ; she 
 besought her to think how often, not
 
 498 COMING OUT. 
 
 only a young woman herselfj but her 
 friends, were laughed at for appearing to 
 expect the offer of a hand that never 
 might be offered ; and she prayed there- 
 fore not to be left exposed to the proba- 
 bility of this concealed derision, and to 
 the possible suspicion from Lord St. Law- 
 rence himself, that she wished to draw 
 him on. 
 
 Whilst Alicia wrote thus frankly and 
 earnestly, her affectionate wish of doing all 
 she could to gratify her parent urged 
 her to say as candidly, that for no one 
 who had either looked love, or whispered 
 love, did she feel the slightest preference; 
 that slie began to think highly of Lord 
 St. Lawrence ; and that, consequently, 
 there was no obstinate rebellion in her 
 mind against him ; so that if her mother 
 would but grant what she now implored 
 almost on her knees, 'and summon her to 
 France until her father returned to re- 
 unite the family in Ireland, that step 
 w^ould not only set her at ease, but put 
 Lord St. Lawrence's regard to a desirable 
 test.
 
 COMING OUT. 499 
 
 if he only admired her, he would soon 
 forget her ; and she would then have 
 escaped both the danger of growing to 
 like him too well, and the mortification 
 of being considered a disappointed, pre- 
 sumptuous girl. Ii\ on the contrary, any 
 serious inclination existed in his heart, 
 he would always have it in his power to 
 renew their acquaintance under her 
 father's roof; and, so doing, she would 
 be more disposed to consider him grate- 
 fully and partially ; nay, she promised 
 sincerely to endeavour at doing so, were 
 such conduct to claim it. 
 
 Nothing could be more dutiful or 
 rational than this proposition, which Alicia 
 made with every pui-pose of abiding by 
 it, if acceded to : but it was destined to 
 find nothing rational in the mind that was 
 to decide upon its sense and delicacy ! 
 Her most painful task was to notice the 
 letter which had been thrown out amon^jst 
 the pot-pourri the preceding night. 
 After many alternations of resolution, be- 
 coming more anxious to spare her mother's 
 feehngs as her own tranquilHzed, she
 
 500 COMING OUT. 
 
 thought it best merely to state the cir- 
 cumstance, without commenting upon it, 
 by way of apprising Mrs. Barry of Lady 
 Donnington's carelessness about letters, 
 and so warning her not to write what the 
 whole world of fashion might not read. 
 But for Sir Edgar Trevor's amusing folly, 
 and Lord St. Lawrence's proper consider- 
 ation, this humiliating production might 
 have been read aloud, in common with 
 other notes. Alicia, who now knew its 
 contents, felt in a horror at the bare pos- 
 sibility of such a thing ; and trusted that, 
 v/ithout expressing her feelings, her mere 
 statement of the incident would cause 
 her mother some salutary reflections, and, 
 perhaps, become a beacon to her for life. 
 The answer to this letter put an end 
 to hope. Mrs. Barry wrote in a transport 
 of fondness and prodigality ; enclosing a 
 fresh order upon a banker for pocket- 
 money, coupled with the assurance, that 
 by the same post Lady Donnington would 
 know how much more was transmitted 
 for Alicia's general expenses during the 
 ensuing town season. Of course, Alicia's
 
 COMING OUT. 501 
 
 entreaty for permission to join her mother 
 was decidedly negatived. 
 
 It would be wearisome to recapitulate 
 Mrs. Barry's unsound reasonings upon the 
 subject. Suffice it that she rested her prime 
 one upon the confession, that as she found 
 the important invitation from Lady Don- 
 nington had been the consequence of 
 her own letter, (which hitherto its writer 
 had so7iiehow supposed was never received) 
 she really could not be so capricious as 
 to withdraw her child from their illustrious 
 friend when she desired to retain her. 
 At all events, Mrs. Barry would not ven- 
 ture to remove her daughter without the 
 Colonel's sanction ; and as he would soon 
 return, she must leave it for him to decide 
 what was best to be done to make Lord 
 St. Lawrence come forward with some- 
 thing decided. 
 
 At this sentence, Alicia involuntarily 
 crushed the paper in her hand, with a 
 hopeless, bitter sense of her mother's 
 obtuseness to womanly delicacy. " To 
 make Lord St. Lawrence come forward !" 
 she repeated from the letter. " Oh,
 
 502 COMING OUT. 
 
 mamma ! mamma !" Shaking off some 
 hot tears as she spoke, she turned to a 
 long epistle from Flora, in expectation of 
 soothing and comfort. 
 
 But even Flora had joined the com- 
 bination against her. She wrote in a 
 full glow of pride in, and ambition for, 
 an idolized sister, under the strong ex- 
 citement of an awakened imagination and 
 an easily- kin died heart. She was at the 
 visionary age between thirteen and four- 
 teen, when in girls of premature sensibility 
 a strange mixture of childish ignor Ace and 
 of womanly sentiment is often perceptible. 
 
 Mrs. Barry had not unwisely hastened 
 to secure the powerful aid of Flora, 
 whose impetuous character frequently 
 impelled her sister's softer one ; and 
 having determined, for certain cogent 
 reasons, to devote her last weeks in 
 France to frugal seclusion, had quitted 
 Paris almost immediately after the re- 
 ceipt of the two letters from Brighton, 
 and taken up a temporary abode under 
 the same roof with her youngest child. 
 There she had shoAvn Flora her sister's
 
 COMING OUT. 503 
 
 journals, together with Lady Donning- 
 ton's half-quire of well-filled note paper ; 
 and the result was, that Flora became 
 convinced of Lord St. Lawrence's devo- 
 tion to her sister, and of her own instan- 
 taneous wish to have him for a brother- 
 in-law. 
 
 She now seconded her mother's ex- 
 hortations and worldly arguments by 
 applying motives better adapted for the 
 purpose of influencing one indifferent 
 to selfish pleasures or honours, yet alive 
 to nobler distinctions, and tenderly sus- 
 ceptible of pure affections. She first 
 gave her own exalted ideas of romantic 
 and generous attachment (collected from 
 many an ardent picture presented to her 
 young mind by ungoverned and multi- 
 tifarious reading since her residence 
 abroad) ; then compared it with Lord St. 
 Lawrence's described conduct ; recalled 
 the charming expression of his counte- 
 nance, " *which could only belong to a 
 noble heart ;" and finally entreated Alicia 
 to consider well ere she doomed such 
 a person to " never-ending sorrow."
 
 504/ COMING OUT. 
 
 She repelled with the force of a mind 
 conscious to strength in all its purposes 
 and decisions, her sister's notion that a 
 life of gala and perpetual sacrifice of 
 quiet was necessarily the lot of nobility ; 
 maintaining, that rank gave persons 
 more power to choose their own way of 
 living, while it greatly widened their 
 sphere of benevolence ; and that, con- 
 sequently, it would be its possessor's 
 fault were not full liberty in both en- 
 joyed. 
 
 She next painted the sort of life which 
 she supposed Lord St. Lawrence liked, 
 and she knew her sister loved : wholly 
 discarding every idea of the many tra- 
 versing circumstances, opposing interests, 
 adverse claims, and over-ruling opinions, 
 which experience would have known 
 were likely to thwart even the most set- 
 tled will of a nobleman born to 50,000/. 
 a year from pursuing the happier habits 
 of a commoner with an eighth of that 
 income. She drew a sort of poetical 
 existence, which she believed certain of 
 being realised, if two hearts were agreed
 
 COMING OUT. 505 
 
 upon the plan ; colouring it with all the 
 eloquence of enthusiastic youth. 
 
 It is falsely said, that youth is the 
 season of diffidence and consciousness of 
 ignorance : naturally it is far otherwise. 
 Whenever we find great capacities left to 
 educate themselves, we shall see them 
 too often arrogant or rash in judgment ; 
 blind to the value of experience ; and 
 prone to take their own imaginations for 
 rational conclusions. Minds of the high- 
 est character yield to the correction of 
 time and events, and are thus mellowed 
 into ripeness : inferior ones refuse to 
 receive opinions which they spurned 
 while unconscious of their importance, 
 and remain therefore as crude and harsh 
 as in tlieir earliest days. 
 
 Flora Barry's forward intellect was at 
 this period in the first dangerous state 
 of headlong energy and self-confidence. 
 She had been living of late solely amongst 
 frivolous girls and empty-headed teachers 
 whom she despised, reading every book- 
 she could reach, and becoming more and 
 more aware of her mother's deficiencies. 
 
 VOL. I. z
 
 506 COMING OUT. 
 
 She could not, therefore, be expected to 
 improve in self-knowledge, or doubt that 
 she was not quite competent to give her 
 sister counsel upon the most momentous 
 concern of a woman's life. Alicia was 
 so accustomed to companion her heart 
 with Flora's, and so affectionately in- 
 clined to consider the latter's mind supe- 
 rior to her own, that she did not for the 
 moment question the propriety of her at- 
 tempting to advise. She even pondered 
 over many parts of the long epistle ; and 
 if its reasonings did not convince, its 
 persuasive earnestness warmed ; so that 
 she laid it aside at last with a pensive 
 conviction that she ought to believe her- 
 self fortunate if Lord St. Lawrence really 
 preferred her, and if he proved all that 
 he now appeared. 
 
 To remain with Lady Donnington was 
 her fate ; and to her fate she must sub- 
 mit : reserving, however, the power of 
 acting towards Lord St. Lawrence and 
 her titled chaperon as circumstances and 
 her own feelings demanded. 
 
 Many were the mortifying recollections
 
 COMING OUT. 507 
 
 and anticipations she had to smother ; 
 but they were smothered; and when 
 Lady Donnington cafelessly announced 
 that she had heard from Mrs. Barry, and 
 w^as to retain her fair guest, Alicia en- 
 deavoured to utter some words of thanks 
 for her past and intended kindness. She 
 remembered that Lady Donnington had 
 been covertly, therefore pitifully asked 
 to receive her under her care ; and such 
 a recollection taught her to feel obliga- 
 tion. 
 
 Lady Donnington announced in the 
 same breath her own intention of remov- 
 ing to London almost immediately. She 
 knew that a great public question must 
 carry Lord St. Lawrence to his post in 
 the Upper House, and not choosing to 
 Jbllow, she determined to be followed. 
 A few days, therefore, were only given 
 Alicia to prepare for quitting Brighton. 
 
 Preparation, however, was unnecessary. 
 She had no beloved friends to part from ; 
 and her splendid companion had a crowd 
 of servants, to take even the trouble of 
 thinking off her hands. Both ladies, 
 z -2
 
 508 COMING OUT. 
 
 therefore, left Brighton as though they 
 were going away from a mere spectacle ; 
 the one cheerfully indifferent to every 
 thing and every body there ; the other de- 
 pressed by her very want of a regret. 
 So natural to an affectionate heart is the 
 desire of having a kindly interest in some 
 fellow-creature ! 
 
 Lord St. Lawrence was not of course 
 included in the persons left behind ; at 
 the moment he heard that the marine 
 villa would be made desolate, he named 
 the evening of the same day for his night- 
 travelling in the same direction. 
 
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