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 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUx\JES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN WARREN, OLD BOND STREET. 
 MDCCCXXI.
 
 J. and C. Adlard, Printeis, 
 23, Bartholomew Close,
 
 ?A3 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It is a remark very frequently made, and 
 therefore probably a just one, that Pre- 
 faces are seldom read, particularly when 
 introductory to publications of this de- 
 scription : but I have also somewhere 
 seen it asserted, that a Preface gives con- 
 sequence to a work; and, as I am well 
 r^ aware that the offering here made to the 
 public will stand in need of every as- 
 '^. sistance, however trifling or adventitious, 
 5 a Preface I resolved to write, and take 
 J my chance of its being read or not. 
 ^ That point being settled, now comes 
 \ the grand difficulty and question — What 
 ^ am I to say? To an experienced favourite 
 ^of the public, or an author who offers the 
 : result of deep and useful researches, a 
 C Preface may be a;n easy and agreeable 
 ^ task; but a nameless writer of a novel 
 ' sets out with every disadvantage. I will
 
 II. PREFACE. 
 
 however endeavour, as in the work it- 
 self, to do my best; and, as it may be 
 expected that I should say something of 
 my motives for blotting so much fair 
 paper, I will confess that T wrote solely 
 for my own amusement, in a situation 
 of leisure and retirement; and that the 
 desire, which subsequently arose, of con- 
 tributing, though in a slight degree, to 
 that of others, induced me to give pub- 
 licity to w4iat I had written. If I suc- 
 ceed in this wish, my labours will be 
 amply repaid: if I fail, I here before- 
 hand solicit the pardon of those whom I 
 may have cheated of some hours, which 
 doubtless might have been spent much 
 more profitably and agreeably. 
 
 The British press has within these few 
 years been most fruitful in works of ima- 
 gination, so infinitely superior in know- 
 ledge of the world, refined portraits of 
 human nature, elegance of language, and 
 delicacy of sentiment, to all with which 
 our ancestors were pleased, that it is no 
 wonder if the national taste be somewhat 
 fastidious, and that much more is now
 
 PREFACE. 111. 
 
 expected from a candidate for public 
 favour in this department of literature, 
 than in former days. 
 
 Satire, too, in all its varied tints of 
 bold, severe, elegant, and playful, has of 
 late most perse veringly pointed the able 
 pen at modern vices, and all the train of 
 fashionable fooleries. May its well-di- 
 rected shafts prove beneficial. To no 
 such merit or pretensions can the pre- 
 sent v^ork aspire. No male or female 
 ever sat for any picture here described. 
 My actors were all, in very truth, ideal 
 beings, not meant to imply, and, I trust, 
 incapable of personal application ; al- 
 though they are all most strictly and 
 carefully modelled from Nature. 
 
 In the arrangement of my drama, 1 
 have sought to proportionate the causes 
 to the effects ; and, by tracing the dif- 
 ferent consequences of similar passions 
 in different minds, and of the various 
 good and evil propensities of human na- 
 ture, I have attempted to weave a variety 
 of incidents into a tale, which might not 
 he destitute of amusement. 
 a2
 
 IV. PREFACE. 
 
 It is not, however, my intention to ob- 
 trude upon the reader the Httle merit 
 which may be found in the following 
 pages, or to try to disarm the censure 
 which its faults may justly deserve ; but 
 it may not be superfluous to anticipate 
 enquiry and discernment so far as to 
 premise, that no hero of early romance, 
 no heroine of more than mortal purity, 
 no unattainable perfect virtues, no un^ 
 mixed gross vices, are here represented 
 to shock the reader's credulity, or to ex- 
 cite his disgust. 
 
 The passions, I trust, will be found to 
 move in their natural course, and to seek 
 their corresponding objects ; or will be 
 seen to follow the directions which edu- 
 cation, situation, and accidental circum- 
 stances, may have given them. If, how- 
 ever, some apparent inconsistencies should 
 meet his eye, he will be pleased to reflect, 
 that the simplest motives often produce a 
 series of actions widely differing from 
 each other, yet still in strict unison and 
 perfect consistency, when referred to the 
 intentions from whence they originated.
 
 PREFACE. V. 
 
 It has been, in short, my wish and en- 
 deavour to represent a picture, the ma'- 
 teriaJs of which are taken from the grand 
 »store-house of Nature, leaving to art its 
 appropriate and Hmiting province of se- 
 lecting, as far as my judgment and ability 
 went, the most interesting objects, and 
 of combining them with truth and con- 
 sistency. 
 
 Of the moral tendency of the actions 
 and characters here exhibited, 1 can 
 speak with precision and confidence ; at 
 least as to the intentions of the author. 
 To present to the observation of our 
 readers an individual of our own species, 
 under any circumstances, faultless and 
 perfect, would be a culpable deviation 
 from truth and nature ; and could pro- 
 duce neither amusement nor advantage. 
 For, where no sympathy is excited, who 
 can be pleased ? And who could be be- 
 nefited by the contemplation of charac- 
 ters, where no errors awakened his cau- 
 tion, and where perfect virtues and un- 
 deviating rectitude destroyed the effects 
 of a good example, by rendering the at-
 
 .VI. PREFACE. 
 
 tempt at imitation vain and hopeless'? 
 A very confined survey of mankind is 
 sufficient to convince us, that the qua- 
 hties of human beings are of a mixed 
 kind ; that the evil are not altogether cor- 
 rupt ; and that, in the most virtuous, it is 
 the predominance of good, not the total 
 absence of error and vice, which gives a 
 colour to their character, and forms their 
 most honourable distinction. 
 
 Under the impression of these senti- 
 ments, and in careful conformity to truth 
 and nature, I have endeavoured to serve 
 the cause of goodness, by representing 
 man as he really is : frail and imperfect, 
 though not a being of unmingled malig- 
 nity ; too often influenced by selfish con- 
 siderations, and agitated by passionate 
 emotions, but restrained by religion ; in- 
 consistently acting from capricious and 
 unworthy motives, yet reverencing the 
 suggestions of his reason : sometimes 
 buoyant with confidence and hope, at 
 others sinking into distrust and dejection. 
 
 To some of my readers it may pro- 
 bably appear that love occupies too pro-
 
 PREFACii:. Vll. 
 
 i^inent a part in the characters which I 
 have attempted to unfold ; and that I have 
 considered the agency of this passion as 
 too universal, and too powerfnl, when 
 referred to the usual motives of human 
 actions and the general known occur- 
 rences of real life. I cannot indeed hope 
 to convince the ambitious, the avaricious, 
 and worldly-minded, that the happiness 
 of any man can consist in the indulgence 
 of feelings, which chiefly seek their own 
 gratification in increasing and sharing 
 the pleasures of others ; but the young, 
 and those capable of warm and generous 
 sentiments, will not, I think, accuse me 
 of wandering in the regions of fiction, 
 when I describe, what to them will ap- 
 pear, the natural effects of virtuous love ; 
 nor will they, I trust, deem me tedious 
 and romantic when I endeavour to shew, 
 that a well reo'ulated attachment has the 
 happiest influence upon the general cha- 
 racter ; the innate good qualities of which 
 it is peculiarly fitted to exalt and improve. 
 And let me add, what is also the con- 
 viction of daily experience, that the sa- 
 5
 
 Mil. PREFACE. 
 
 cred and social connexion, of which love 
 forms the basis, is frequently a governing 
 principle in our w^orldly arrangements ; 
 gives energy to the pursuits and occu- 
 pations of life ; often decks with smiles 
 its rising prospects ; and influences con- 
 siderably the hopes and fears by which 
 it is so variously chequered. 
 
 Having given these few short notices 
 of what may be expected in the following- 
 work, I will not detain the reader longer 
 than to request from his candour and in- 
 dulgence, that if, as a critic, he must 
 disapprove, as a man he will justly ap- 
 preciate the sincere and zealous inten- 
 tion with which I have endeavoured to 
 strip falsehood and vice of that imposing 
 disguise by which they are too often sur- 
 rounded ; and, at the same time, to illus- 
 trate and render impressive what cannot 
 be too strongly felt — the intrinsic excel- 
 lence and solid advantages of truth, vir- 
 tue, and religion.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Nay let the ungrateful sceptic tell us, how 
 His lender infancy protection found, 
 And lieipless childhood was with safety crowned, 
 If he'll no Providence allow." 
 
 POMFRET. 
 
 Towards the close of one of those beau- 
 tiful days with which the golden month 
 of August gladdens the heart of the agri- 
 culturist, Mr. Byngham sallied forth to 
 enjoy the pleasure of an evening's ride. 
 This gentleman was on a solitary tour to 
 the lakes of Westmoreland and Cumber- 
 land, and had spent much time in rocky 
 Keswick and its vicinity. In his excur- 
 sions from thence, he had viewed with 
 alternate sensations of awe and admira- 
 tion, Wallow Cragg, Skiddaw, Hel- 
 vellyn, and the rocks of Borrowdale ; 
 
 B
 
 2 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the various beautiful lakes and petrifying 
 cascades ; with the variety of scenes in 
 which horror, beauty, and magnificence, 
 here combine to astonish the observing 
 stranger. 
 
 Still his curiosity was ungratified ; or 
 rather he was unwilling to quit a scene 
 whose ceaseless variations detached his 
 thoughts from subjects of a more near and 
 painful nature. 
 
 Fascinated by the surrounding objects, 
 he was slowly proceeding along the side 
 of Derwentwater, when the melancholy 
 that had stolen over his mind was forcibly 
 checked, and his attention ri vetted by a 
 sight that chilled his soul with horror. 
 
 An immense craggy rock, a few yards 
 before him, shaded the path, and pro- 
 jected some way over the water. On a 
 ridge, formed by a rugged protuberance 
 of this tremendous mass, lay a child, who 
 had evidently fallen from the top of the 
 rock, and, almost miraculously, lodged on 
 this dangerous resting place, which was
 
 CONCEALMENT. 3 
 
 too narrow to give any hope of safety 
 but as long as the infant, who lay stunned 
 by the fall, should continue motionless. 
 Higher up, among the trees, a^ppeared a 
 female clasping with convulsive grasp 
 another child to her bosom, while the 
 frantic screams with which she rent the 
 air spoke her agony and distraction. 
 
 Mr. Byngham looked eagerly round 
 for means to extricate the infant from its 
 perilous situation ; but in vain. The 
 height and projection of the rock put all 
 assistance beyond his power. No boat 
 was to be seen on the lake, and he vainly 
 listened for the sound of the friendly oar : 
 all around was still as night ; interrupted 
 only by the cries of the woman, re-echoed, 
 in terrific tones, by the neighbouring 
 rocks. 
 
 The benevolent heart of Byngham was 
 wrung with pity at the dreadful situa- 
 tion of the child, who, should he absent 
 himself in quest of assistance, might in 
 the mean while find a watery grave, 
 b2
 
 4 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Thinking it probable that measures for 
 its preservation could be more easily 
 taken from above, he called to the person 
 on the rock, and urged her to seek that 
 assistance he could not afford : but, alas ! 
 liis representations were unavailing, the 
 wretched woman, whose agitation loudly 
 proclaimed the parent, w^as incapable of 
 understanding him. Terror had chained 
 every reasoning power, and, with the 
 instinctive fears of unreflecting nature, 
 she closely pressed one infant to her bo- 
 som, while she looked, in despairing hor- 
 ror, on the other so dreadfully suspended 
 between life and death. 
 
 Mr. Byngham, finding he only lost 
 time, every instant of which threatened 
 to be fatal to the object of his anxiety, 
 was going, with all possible speed, to pro- 
 cure assistance, when returning animation 
 in the child prompted an effort to regain 
 its feet, — it rolled over, and the lake re- 
 ceived it on its glassy bosom. 
 
 For a few seconds, Byngham viewed
 
 CONCEALMENT. O 
 
 the struggles of the unfortunate infant; 
 then, as tears started to his eyes, philan- 
 thropy whispered — '^ It may yet be possi- 
 ble to save him." 
 
 A momentary impulse of fear suggest- 
 ed to Mr. Byngham that he was little 
 accustomed to swimming ; but his huma- 
 nity never slumbered, and, at this critical 
 period, it irresistibly impelled him to 
 plunge into the stream ; when, firmly 
 seizing the sinking child, he, after much 
 danger and difficulty, regained the bank 
 with his senseless burden. 
 
 Having ascertained that life still lin- 
 gered in the frame of the dripping infant, 
 and eager to impart the joyful intelligence 
 to the mother, he lifted up his eyes, but 
 she and her little companion had dis- 
 appeared, 
 
 Byngham's humane exertions were 
 soon crowned with all the success his 
 heart could wish. The child's stomach 
 being freed from the water that had 
 entered it, its senses returned, and life 
 b3
 
 O CONCEALMENT. 
 
 was renewed in all its vigour. The 
 heart of its preserver beat with fervent 
 gratitude to Heaven, for making him the 
 instrument of the infant's safety ; then, 
 pressing his lips in proud ecstacy to its 
 now glowing cheek, he placed it before 
 him on his horse, and advanced in search 
 of its parent. 
 
 The child, so providentially snatched 
 from an early grave, was a fine boy, appa- 
 rently about four years old, and was now 
 so much alarmed by the motion of the 
 horse, that Mr. Byngham in vain endea- 
 voured to pacify him. Coming to a 
 rugged path that seemed to wind round 
 the side of the rock, our traveller resolved 
 to explore it ; since, if it did not lead to 
 the habitation of the child's friends, he 
 would most likely hear of them ; but for 
 some time he could perceive no sign of 
 any dwelling. 
 
 At length he found himself at the en- 
 trance of a grove of large trees, whose 
 luxuriant boughs compelled him to dis-
 
 CONCEALMENT* T 
 
 mount. The little stranger's fears and 
 cares were now all lulled to sleep in the 
 arms of his preserver, who penetrated the 
 thicket, directing his steps, as nearly as 
 he could guess, to the spot where he had 
 seen the female. As he proceeded cau- 
 tiously, tones of infantine distress struck 
 his ear, and, directed by the sound, he 
 came to the edge of the rock, where he 
 found the lady he had seen from below. 
 She was now standing like a monument 
 of woe ; her arms folded across her bo- 
 som, and her eyes fixed with a vacant 
 stare on the lake, while the child by her 
 side anxiously sought to attract her 
 attention. 
 
 Mr. Byngham paused a minute, to 
 consider how he should impart the happy 
 tidings of which he was the bearer. 
 While he was deliberating, the little boy 
 awoke, and renewed his lamentations. 
 At the sound of his voice the lady turned 
 hastily round, and Byngham being with- 
 in a few paces, she darted towards him, 
 B 4
 
 8 C0NCEALB(3[ENT. 
 
 and, perceiving her child, she snatched 
 it to her bosom, exclaiming — ''Great 
 God ! is this a vision ; or do I indeed 
 clasp my drowned boy?" Tears and 
 convulsive sighs now mingled wdth the 
 caresses she bestowed on her son, and 
 restrained the expression of her trans- 
 ports. Then, suddenly recollecting her- 
 self, she took the hand of Mr. Byngham, 
 saying, ''Generous stranger! I have no 
 words to express my thanks, but surely 
 you can guess the grateful feelings of my 
 heart, which w ill owe to you its future 
 happiness." 
 
 Byngham endeavoured to divert the 
 effusion of her gratitude, by observing 
 that the state of the child required her 
 immediate attention. She answered by 
 pressing his hand with grateful warmth, 
 and then begged he would follow her, as 
 the path to her house w^as very intricate. 
 Byngham, carrying the other infant, and 
 leading his horse, followed his fair con- 
 ductress, wondering to whom so singular
 
 CONCEALMENT. 9 
 
 and awful a circumstance had introduced 
 him. 
 
 They walked a considerable way 
 through the interior of the grove, which 
 the sombrous branches of the trees ren- 
 dered almost impervious to the bright 
 lustre of the moon, then rising. At 
 length, to the great satisfaction of our 
 valorous knight, he beheld a small build- 
 ing, at the door of which was a w^oman 
 with a lantern. '' Dear heart, madam !" 
 said she, running to meet the lady, ^' I 
 have been half frighted out of my wits : 
 but, mercy! where is the other sweet 
 babe?" 
 
 '^ She is safe, my good woman ;" an- 
 swered her mistress : '' but be quick, and 
 take this dear boy ; and congratulate me 
 on his safety." 
 
 " Heaven bless us !" cried the servant, 
 starting back ; '^ he is as wet as a sop ; and 
 you, ma'am, are as pale as a sheet : what 
 can have happened?" 
 
 ^'You shall know all in good time," 
 b5
 
 10 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 replied her lady; *'but now take the 
 poor boy to bed." 
 
 Margaret obeyed; but not without 
 casting a look of curiosity, if not suspi- 
 cion, on Mr. Byngham, who lost no time 
 in exchanging his wet garments for 
 others, that were immediately produced ; 
 a thousand conjectures, in the mean 
 time, passing in his mind respecting the 
 person to whom he had been so signally 
 serviceable. Shortly after he was dress- 
 ed, supper was announced, and he de- 
 scended to a lower room, where a simple 
 repast w^s served with much taste and 
 neatness. He was disappointed to find 
 he should not see his hostess again that 
 night ; but, having accepted a pressing 
 invitation to take a bed at her house, he 
 soon retired to the chamber prepared for 
 him. Sleep, however, fled his pillow : 
 his mind, scarcely recovered from its late 
 agitation, was busily employed in giving 
 consistency to an idle train of doubts and 
 conjectures, which the present appear-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 11 
 
 ance of things was well calculated to 
 excite. He felt also, with conscious exul- 
 tation, that internal satisfaction which 
 acts of disinterested generosity are well 
 known to produce. Tender and plea- 
 surable emotions succeeded the late 
 exertions of his benevolence ; they con- 
 stituted, indeed, its highest reward, and 
 would unquestionably be the objects of 
 more frequent experience, and of more 
 eager and general pursuit, could sve stop, 
 in our career of luxury, to enjoy the exer- 
 cise of the social affections, unmixed 
 with the base alloy of sense and vanity. 
 
 To the few common questions he had 
 asked the girl who attended him, he had 
 received civil, but laconic, answers ; and 
 delicacy forbade more particular inqui- 
 ries. Through the apartments he had 
 seen, there reigned an appearance of ele- 
 gance that spoke the owners of no com- 
 mon stamp. The lady also, from the 
 imperfect judgment he was able to form 
 of her, seemed exquisitely beautiful, and
 
 12 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 much superior to the situation in which 
 ^he. appeared. In fine, our traveller 
 spent much of the night in thoughts or 
 the lovely stranger, and in anticipating 
 the hour that would give him a more 
 perfect view of one, who was already the 
 object of an ardent curiosity. 
 
 When he judged the family risen, he 
 left his room, intending to examine the 
 ground round the house. Crossing a 
 passage, his attention was excited by the 
 whispers of a child, and, turning his 
 head, he perceived the door of a room on 
 one side half open. He stopped invo- 
 luntarily, and was at once charmed and 
 affected by what he saw. 
 
 In this room was the lady of the house 
 seated on a sofa, bending over the little 
 boy who lay asleep ; while a lovely girl, 
 apparently of the same age, was standing 
 before a glass, busily employed in deco- 
 rating her cap with flowers. The lady 
 wore a robe but slightly confined, and 
 her head-dress consisted only of a pro-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 13 
 
 fusion of dark auburn hair, that hung 
 over her shoulders, and, parting on the 
 forehead, displayed the beauties of a face 
 highly attractive. Her complexion was 
 clear and animated ; her face and nose of 
 the Grecian form ; her eyes, shaded by 
 long sable lashes, were dark, full, and 
 expressive, and her eye-brows arched by 
 Nature's most delicate pencil ; while the 
 enchanting sweetness of her mouth com- 
 pleted the charms of a face, to which 
 was added a figure unrivalled in grace 
 and symmetry. 
 
 While contemplating her sleeping in- 
 fant, a smile of tenderness played round 
 her mouth ; but Byngham saw the silent 
 tear roll down her cheek. His eyes and 
 feet would long have remained rivetted 
 to the spot, had not a sense of propriety 
 induced him to withdraw. Eao:er to 
 satisfy his increasing curiosity, he gladly 
 received the summons to attend the 
 breakfast-table. Wlien he entered the 
 room, the lady hastily arose, and, ad- 
 
 1
 
 14 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 vancing towards him with a child in 
 each hand, presented the boy ; while 
 tears of gratitude and maternal affection 
 trembled in her eyes as she said, ''Again, 
 sir, let me thank your humanity, to which 
 I owe this beloved child ; and, though he 
 cannot now appreciate the debt, believe 
 me, his first lesson shall be one of grati- 
 tude." 
 
 Byngham requested she would not 
 rate thus highly the service he had been 
 so fortunate as to render her ; and then 
 took the little Frederick in his arms, 
 whose blooming face made his late dan- 
 ger almost incredible. The boy amply 
 returned his caresses, and, the moment he 
 regained his freedom, brought his sister 
 Julia to share the stranger's notice. 
 They were then taken from the room, 
 and the lady and her guest sat down to 
 breakfast. Very different was the dress 
 of the former to that lately described. 
 She now wore a white gown fitted to 
 her shape, her neck was entirely screened
 
 CONCEALMENT. 15 
 
 from view by many folds of muslin, and 
 her luxuriant tresses confined beneath a 
 close lace cap. But if her present ap- 
 pearance offered fewer charms to the 
 licentious admirer of beauty, to a man of 
 delicacy and sensibility she was even 
 more fascinating ; and such was the one 
 who now forgot, in the contemplation of 
 this lovely woman, that there was ano- 
 ther being in the creation. 
 
 The conversation turned chiefly on the 
 event of the preceding night, and the 
 romantic beauties that distinguish this 
 part of the kingdom, and particularly the 
 immediate spot on which the cottage 
 stood. This lowly habitation, Byngham 
 learnt with surprise, was built within the 
 excavated part of the rock that projected 
 on the other side over the lake. Though 
 Byngham's hostess spoke with ease and 
 elegance on these subjects, she seemed 
 carefully to avoid every reference to her- 
 self and family. All therefore that he 
 could learn on this head was, that she
 
 16 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 had inhabited that cottage above four 
 years, and had there given birth to the 
 two children^ w^ho were twins. 
 
 When every common topic of conver- 
 sation was exhausted, a reserve ensued, 
 on the part of the lady, bordering on 
 silence, which compelled Mr. Byngham 
 to signify his intention of taking leave. 
 She then repeated her thanks to him in 
 the warmest terms ; but, to his surprise 
 and mortification, expressed no curiosity 
 to know to whom she was indebted, or 
 any wish to see him again. At the door 
 of the cottage, the children were at play : 
 Byngham kissed Frederick with unadul- 
 terated sensations of pleasure, his heart 
 feeling something like a parent's interest 
 in the fate of a child whose existence he 
 had preserved. Nor did he overlook the 
 little Julia, who joined her brother in 
 entreaties that he would not leave them 
 so soon. 
 
 Such artless addresses to his feelings 
 melted the heart of Byngham, and,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 17 
 
 warmed with the kind impulses they had 
 excited, and indulging the wish of re- 
 entering this cottage on some future day, 
 he forgot every motive he had hitherto 
 haa for forbearance. With hesitation, 
 he now requested his new acquaintance 
 would favour him with her name, and 
 permit his taking an opportunity to in- 
 quire after her son's health. 
 
 *'My name, sir," she answered, *'is — 
 Lawrence ; but, though you may think 
 me ungrateful, I must beg — my wishes — 
 I mean, my plan of life, compels me to 
 decline the honour of your acquaintance ; 
 yet I will own, I should be grieved not to 
 have the pleasure of seeing you once 
 more, before you leave this country." 
 
 During this speech, her varying co- 
 lour declared an excessive agitation, and 
 great confusion. This was, however, as 
 much encouragement as Mr. Bynghani 
 expected ; and, having expressed his 
 thanks, he departed. 
 
 On leaving this rude, but beautiful.
 
 18 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 spot, Byngham felt an increasing desire 
 to know what could have led hither a 
 woman so calculated to shine in society ; 
 till at last, by connecting various circum- 
 stances that had attended his visit, he 
 imagined he had discovered her real 
 situation. 
 
 These circumstances were, — the chil- 
 dren, her extreme seclusion, the change 
 of clothes with which he had been imme- 
 diately supplied, though no gentleman 
 had appeared, or been mentioned ; and, 
 lastly, the great embarrassment with 
 which she had given her name, and de- 
 clined his acquaintance. Absorbed in 
 these reflections, which acquired every 
 hour a deeper interest, he regained his 
 lodgings. 
 
 Thus were the energies of an enlight- 
 ened mind and feeling heart engaged in 
 examining the conduct, and endeavour- 
 ing to penetrate the motives, of an indi- 
 vidual, who, a few hours before, was 
 wholly unknown to him ; when a little
 
 CONCEALMENT. lO' 
 
 attention to the perturbed state of his 
 own mind might have arrested emotions 
 very ill suited to his situation. 
 
 And now, as we have selected Mr. 
 Byngham for one of the prominent 
 personages in the following scenes, we 
 will introduce him and his family more 
 particularly to the reader.
 
 20 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Wh^ 1 see t!ie avaiicions and crafty taking compa- 
 nions to thfir tables and their beds, vvithont any inquiry, but 
 after farms and money; cr the giddy and thoughtless 
 uniting themselves for life to those whom they have only 
 seen by the light of tapers, at a ball; when parents make 
 articles for tlieir olnldren, without inquiring after their 
 consent, 6ic. — I am not so much inclined to wonder that 
 nmrriage is sometimes unhappy, as that it appears so little 
 loaded with calamity." johnson. 
 
 Mr. Byngham (father to the gentleman 
 we lately left in Cumberland,) was de- 
 scended from a good family; and, ill 
 inclined to rest satisfied with the slender 
 patrimony he was heir to, embarked at 
 an early age for India. There, in conse- 
 quence of an enterprising disposition, he 
 experienced many disappointments and 
 difficulties ; but, still cherishing the desire 
 of acquiring wealth, after many arduous 
 exertions he succeeded in realizing a 
 considerable fortune, with as much ho- 
 nour to his heart as his understanding.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 21 
 
 When, at the age of fifty. Mr. Bynghain 
 arrived in England, he found no kindred 
 tie remaining to greet his return ; and 
 he had always been too intent on his 
 favourite pursuit to entertain a thought 
 of marriage. Now, however, that he had 
 attained his grand object, he felt a defi- 
 ciency in the happiness to which he had 
 looked forward, and a sigh agitated his 
 bosom as he reflected, that he had toiled 
 so many years for himself alone. This 
 frequently-returning reflection led to a 
 determination to marry. His person was 
 still comely, and the natural benevolence 
 of his heart, influencing his manners, 
 corrected the haughty disposition almost 
 unavoidably acquired during a long resi- 
 dence in the East. He was, therefore, 
 not disappointed in his views, but soon 
 led to the hymeneal altar a woman every 
 way worthy his choice ; with whom he 
 enjoyed all the happiness a well-assorted 
 union could bestow. The birth of a 
 daughter added to their felicity; and,
 
 22 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 though Byngham would have preferred 
 a son, his affection for his Httle girl was 
 not less lively, nor his tenderness for her 
 mother less fervent ; and the following 
 year amply compensated for the disap- 
 pointment, by giving him a boy. They 
 had no more children, but those they 
 possessed promised all the fondest af- 
 fection could wish ; and their happi- 
 ness remained uninterrupted till Jmward 
 Byngham attained his sixth year, when 
 his mother was suddenly taken off by a 
 fever, to the mconsolable grief of her 
 husband. 
 
 After the death of his wife, the tender 
 pledges of her love became still more 
 dear to Mr. Byngham, and he cherished 
 the hope of seeing them settled in life, 
 before he was also taken from them. 
 
 x\n unsuccessful adventurer in India, 
 who for many years had been Mr. Byng- 
 ham's most intimate friend, had, a short 
 time before this period, died abroad, 
 leaving but a slender provision for a
 
 CONCEALMENT. 23 
 
 widow, and an only child, to both of whom 
 Mr. Byngham gave an invitation to re- 
 side in his house. Mrs. Leslie, whose 
 income was very insufficient to answer 
 the love of luxury and expense, in which, 
 though far advanced in life, she still in- 
 dulged, gladly took the head of her 
 friend's table, and the direction of his 
 family. The manners of this lady had 
 ever been highly captivating, and at fifty 
 she still possessed lively and companion- 
 able talents. It was not, therefore, sur- 
 prising that she soon conciliated the 
 esteem of Mr. Byngham, particularly as 
 she took the surest way to his heart, — 
 namely, a great shew of affection for his 
 children. She was however, in reality, 
 too selfish and contracted to admit any 
 sensations but those which immediately 
 led to the advancement of her own in- 
 terest and gratification. Her first wish 
 had been to exchange her dependant 
 situation for one more certain and agree-
 
 24 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 able: but, being soon convinced that 
 Mr. Byngham had resolutely determined 
 never to marry again, she wisely thought 
 it best to forego this favourite scheme, 
 and form a new one, rather than hazard 
 the loss of a friendship of so much conse- 
 quence to her. Her understanding was 
 good, and a long intercourse with the 
 world enabled her to conceal those parts 
 of her character which would have ren- 
 dered her less estimable in the opinion of 
 Mr. Byngham, over whom she gradually 
 gained an entire ascendancy. Her daugh- 
 ter was a well-made lively girl, with a 
 pleasing face, and a year older than 
 Edward Byngham. Mrs. Leslie's se- 
 cond plan was to effect an union between 
 the son of her friend and Louisa, whom 
 she early began to train to her purpose, 
 by lessons that filled her heart with va« 
 nity, ambition, and deceit. 
 
 This matrimonial speculation became 
 every year more and more the object of
 
 CONCEALMENT. 25 
 
 Mrs. Leslie's wishes, into which she 
 saw, with pleasure, her daughter enter as 
 far as her youth would permit. 
 
 Charlotte Bynghara, in the mean time, 
 attained her seventeenth year, inheriting, 
 with the personal charms, all the virtues 
 and gentleness of her mother's character. 
 Few, at this early age, possess a mind so 
 strong and intelligent ; sedate and virtu- 
 ous from principle ; with passions at once 
 ardent and well regulated. This might, 
 in a degree, arise from the education she 
 had received; as, while Louisa was 
 wholly instructed by her mother, with 
 the occasional assistance of masters. Miss 
 Byngham regularly attended the lessons 
 her brother received from a gentleman 
 resident in the house, for whom Mr. 
 Byngham had the highest respect and 
 esteem, as one who united every honour- 
 able and social virtue, with great literary 
 abilities and knowledge of the world. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie had at first warmly op- 
 posed this mode of education, and 
 c
 
 26 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 endeavoured to remove Mr. Derraont ; 
 but, soon perceiving a perseverance in 
 the attempt might be dangerous to her 
 own interest, she acquiesced with all 
 that deference for Mr. Byngham's opi- 
 nion, and regard for his children, she 
 knew so well how to assume. 
 
 Mr. Dermont, therefore, kept his sta- 
 tion in this family till Edward Bynghani 
 w^ent to the University, and then saw, 
 with satisfaction, the minds and princi- 
 ples of his pupils formed in a manner 
 truly gratifying to his affectionate wishes 
 for their happiness, and the friendship he 
 entertained for their father. All |:he 
 instructions Charlotte received from Mrs. 
 Leslie related only to those female ele- 
 gancies of manner and address, which, 
 though tripling, when compared with 
 more essential accomplishments, are yet 
 indispensable; and no one was better 
 able to impart them. 
 
 Happily, the mind of Miss Bynghani 
 thus escaped the infection the less fortu-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 2T 
 
 nate Louisa received from her mother. 
 But, though Charlotte's had been what 
 some would call a masculine education, 
 there did not beat a female heart in 
 which what are termed the finer feelings 
 were more perfect than in hers. Her 
 tenderness of disposition, and sweetness 
 of temper, were strengthened by good 
 sense and a sound judgment, and her 
 understanding softened by mildness and 
 humanity. 
 
 "Tell how each beauty of her lAind and face 
 Was biighleii'd by some sweet peculiar grace ! 
 Tell how her manners, by the world refin'd, 
 Left all the taint of modish vice behind ; 
 And made each charm of polish'd courts agree, 
 With candid Truth's simplicity." 
 
 Thus attractive in herself, and certain 
 of a very considerable fortune, it was not 
 surprising that several candidates for her 
 hand had already offered themselves. 
 But, anxious as her father was to see her 
 married, he was too solicitous for her 
 happiness to urge a hasty selection. His 
 patience, however, was not very severely 
 c2
 
 28 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 exercised, as her heart soon decided in 
 favour of the only son of Lord Montrevcr, 
 who was two years older than herself, 
 and well calculated to obtain a return to 
 the affection with which she inspired 
 him. 
 
 Lord Montrevor had, however, other 
 views for his son ; and the young man, 
 finding his father was not to be brought 
 to favour his wishes, resolved to frustrate 
 those his parent entertained; and, to 
 avoid all further importunities on the 
 subject, determined to go abroad, and 
 remain there till he came of age. 
 
 The lovers, at parting, exchanged vows 
 of constancy ; and Mr. Byngham, who 
 was very partial to young Stracey, pro- 
 mised to consider him as his future son- 
 in-law, trusting that, on his return, he 
 would be able to obtain Lord Montrevor's 
 approbation of his wishes. 
 
 Stracey was absent little more than a 
 twelvemonth, being recalled by the sud- 
 den death of his father ; an event which
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 29 
 
 gave him possession of a large fortune, 
 and made him the master of his own 
 actions. 
 
 The period claimed by respect to the 
 memory of his father was no sooner 
 elapsed, than the youthful Lord Mon- 
 trevor became the husband of Charlotte 
 Byngham, to the great delight of her 
 father, who declared his only wish in life 
 now was to see his son also married. 
 
 As Mr. Byngham's bodily infirmities 
 rapidly increased with his age, he was 
 soon convinced that his constitution was 
 breaking, and determined to recall Ed- 
 w-ard, for the purpose of effecting a plan 
 on which he had lately dwelt with 
 pleasure. 
 
 Young Byngham had passed the pre- 
 ceding year on the Continent with his 
 friend and late preceptor, Mr. Dermont, 
 then travelling for the benefit of his wife's 
 health. In obedience to his father's 
 wishes, Edward, after visiting France 
 and Switzerland, reluctantly quitted his 
 c3
 
 30 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 friends, just as they were on the point of 
 passing into Italy. It was no inconsi- 
 derable mortification to be thus deprived 
 of the pleasure he had promised himself 
 in the meditated tour, and in gratifying 
 his imagination by visiting that favoured 
 land, which early studies had taught him 
 to consider as the cradle of men whose 
 progress in arts and arms has been cele- 
 brated with the tributary respect of an 
 admiring world. 
 
 Affection, however, as much as duty, 
 checked all inclination to disobey the 
 wishes of a parent he had found uniformly 
 indulgent. By that parent and his sister 
 he was welcomed with the tenderest 
 affection. He expressed himself happy 
 at the marriage of the latter ; as, from an 
 acquaintance with Lord Montrevor at 
 Westminster, he had formed a very fa- 
 vourable opinion of his character. 
 
 From the moment of Edward's return, 
 Mrs. Leslie assiduously contrived to 
 throw Louisa in his way ; who played her
 
 CONCEALMENT, 31 
 
 part so well, that, if he felt no particular 
 regard for her, he thought her an agree- 
 able girl, and believed her wholly igno- 
 rant of the views that evidently actuated 
 her mother. 
 
 Edward had been but a month in 
 England, when his father was taken sud- 
 denly much worse ; and having obtained 
 from his physicians an avowal, corrobo- 
 rated by his own feelings, that his disso- 
 lution could not be distant, he determined 
 no longer to delay the disclosure of his 
 views respecting his son. 
 
 With affectionate solemnity, Mr. Byng- 
 ham now inquired of his son if his heart 
 were free from all engagements ; adding, 
 that, as his most anxious wish was to see 
 him settled in life, he intreated him to 
 communicate his sentiments without re- 
 serve; assuring him, at the same time, 
 that he might rely on every indulgence, 
 supposing him even to have made a choice 
 which a parent's judgment could not 
 wholly approve. 
 
 c4
 
 32 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Edward was affected by the tender 
 seriousness of his father; and, without 
 hesitation, said his affections had never 
 been interested in the manner to which 
 he alluded. An expression of satisfac- 
 tion overspread the emaciated counte- 
 nance of Mr. Bynghara, as, pressing the 
 hand of his son, he said, '' I need not, then, 
 my dear Edward, doubt your readiness 
 to conform to my wishes." He then pro- 
 ceeded, in a serious and resolute manner, 
 to inform his son that he had long che- 
 rished the idea of an union between him 
 and the daughter of his much-valued 
 friend ; adding, he knew Louisa enter- 
 tained for him the liveliest partiality. 
 
 Though Edward had been in some 
 degree prepared for this, by obscure 
 hints from his father, he was surprised at 
 the earnestness with which he now men- 
 tioned it. After a short silence, during 
 which Mr. Byngham anxiously observed 
 his countenance, Edward replied, that, 
 having never experienced a sensation for
 
 CONCEALMENT. 3ft 
 
 Louisa beyond friendly regard, it would 
 be as dishonourable as imprudent, he 
 thought, to solicit her hand ; particularly 
 as, though he allowed her many good 
 qualities, he did not consider her as cal- 
 culated to promote his happiness. 
 
 His father appeared much hurt at this 
 declaration ; and saying, with mingled 
 anger and regret, that he had ill chosen 
 the moment for a first opposition, dis- 
 missed him. 
 
 This was, indeed, the first time in 
 which the son found the parent unrea- 
 sonable, or that the latter had cause to 
 complain of the son's resistance ; an oc- 
 currence that sensibly affected the heart 
 of Edward. The night after the above 
 conversation was by no means past by 
 the latter in his usual undisturbed slum- 
 bers ; painful reflections constantly drove 
 sleep from his pillow. 
 
 One moment he thought that to marry 
 Louisa would be, in a great measure, to 
 blast those glowing prospects with which 
 c5
 
 S4 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the fallacious future so often cherishes, 
 and deceives the sanguine hopes of early 
 life ; and he resolved never to give his 
 hand where his heart was so little inte- 
 rested. The next, however, brought to 
 his memory his father's words, and he 
 felt a severe pang at the idea of thwart- 
 ing, perhaps, his last wishes. 
 
 Then fancy, reversing the picture, pre- 
 sented his father gratified by his sub- 
 mission, and happy in the certainty of 
 having so well provided for the child of 
 his friend At the same time, he could 
 not but experience considerable surprise 
 at the earnestness and anxiety with 
 which this match was urged ; for, though 
 he had long penetrated the views of Mrs. 
 Leslie, he could not think that her wishes, 
 or his father's former friendship for her 
 husband, ought to induce the exertion of 
 such undue authority, where the happi- 
 ness of an only son was so essentially 
 concerned. 
 Young Byngham had, indeed, disco-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 35^ 
 
 vered Mrs. Leslie's designs ; but his pene- 
 tration fell far short of the secret arts and 
 persevering attacks by which this wily 
 woman determined to perfect her scheme, 
 aided by the infantine caresses of the 
 well -schooled Louisa. His youth and 
 inexperience incapacitated him also from 
 knowing how ill calculated is a mind, 
 enfeebled by bodily suffering, however 
 strong it may have been, to resist the 
 ceaseless representations and entreaties 
 of an artful and apparently sympathizing 
 friend. Much, under such circumstances, 
 is yielded to affectionate gratitude, but 
 more to the wish for peace and repose. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie well understood all these 
 advantages ; and she constantly and pa- 
 thetically repeated her firm conviction, 
 that her poor Louisa, the only child of 
 the man who would have sacrificed his 
 life to Mr. Bynghara, w^as suffering in 
 secret all the anguish of a first attach- 
 ment, and that she was sure, without his
 
 36 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 timely interference, that unfortunate at- 
 tachment would bring her to an early 
 grave. 
 
 By these artful suggestions she gra- 
 dually wrought on Mr. Byngham's mind, 
 till he at length joined with her in ear- 
 nestly wishing the match ; and, once 
 assured his son had no prior engage- 
 ment, he hastily concluded he must be 
 happy with an amiable young creature 
 so devoted to him as Mrs. Leslie repre- 
 sented Louisa to be. 
 
 Agitated by conflicting sentiments, 
 Edward arose early to visit his father. 
 On his way, he learnt the physician had 
 already been, and pronounced him consi- 
 derably worse. Edward's heart smote 
 him at this information, and with un- 
 steady steps he approached his father's 
 bed ; when, drawing aside the curtain, 
 an afflicting alteration was very visible. 
 In faultering accents, he inquired how he 
 found himself. "As wefl, my son,"
 
 CONCEALMENT. 3T 
 
 answered Mr. Byngham, **as a decayed 
 body and a disappointed mind will 
 admit." 
 
 Then, after a pause, he added, " Your 
 determination, young man, is no doubt 
 fixed, and it would be needless to urge 
 you to comply with a request that may 
 be my last ; and thus to make the only 
 return in your power for years of atten- 
 tion to your wishes and welfare." With 
 more than the usual tenacity of age to a 
 favourite scheme, Mr. Byngham added 
 so many urgent and distressing entrea- 
 ties, that Edward, seeing his strength 
 nearly exhausted, was unable to offer fur- 
 ther opposition, and, with much agita- 
 tion, promised to consent to what was 
 required of him. 
 
 All the signs of joy fading nature 
 could supply, lighted up the features of 
 Mr. Byngham. He embraced his son, 
 and thanked him for this proof of his 
 dutiful affection ; adding that, much as 
 his heart had been set on this union, he
 
 38 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 would not promote it, did he not know 
 Louisa's love for him, and did he not 
 think her in every respect likely to ensure 
 his happiness. 
 
 Though Edward did not fully subscribe 
 to this opinion, he was too partial to 
 Miss Leslie to hear with indifference 
 this assurance of her affection. If he did 
 not look forward to this marriage with 
 very sanguine expectations of felicity, he 
 thought he might reasonably hope it 
 would be productive of moderate happi- 
 ness ; while the conviction of having 
 contributed to mark the last scene of a 
 beloved parent's life with satisfaction and 
 tranquility, would be a constant source 
 of pleasing reflections. 
 
 Having thus yielded to his father's 
 desire, he shewed no reluctance to com- 
 plete this act of obedience; and, his 
 addresses being modestly, but graciously 
 received by the delighted Louisa, and 
 her still more enraptured mother, the 
 union, at the earnest request of Mr.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 30 
 
 Byngham, was, within a week, solem- 
 nized in his apartment. His life appear- 
 ed only to have been prolonged for this 
 purpose, as he expired the day after the 
 ceremony, leaving his son and daughter 
 to lament the best of fathers and friends. 
 
 Lady Montrevor (who, very soon after 
 her marriage, had gone with her husband 
 to his estate in Devonshire,) arrived but 
 just in time to receive her parent's last 
 blessing. 
 
 Her surprise at the hasty marriage of 
 her brother was great, and not wholly 
 untinctured with fears for his future hap- 
 piness ; doubtful if Louisa's mind was at 
 all congenial with his : as, however, the 
 step was irretrievable, she could only offer 
 her sincerest wishes for their felicity.
 
 40 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 *' Thy wish to please by every softer grace, 
 
 Of elegance and ease, of form and face ! 
 
 By lively fancy, and by sense refin'd, 
 
 The stronger magic of the cultui'd mind. 
 
 Thy pure ambition, and thy yirtnous plan, 
 
 To fix the variable heart of man." hayley. 
 
 The loss of her father proved a severe 
 blow to Lady Montrevor, and fell more 
 heavily from the previous uneasiness her 
 mind laboured under. She had quitted 
 her paternal home little more than six 
 months, to follow a husband she passion- 
 ately loved ; yet had she already expe- 
 rienced some of those pangs by which 
 the happiness of the married, as well as 
 every other state of life, is too often 
 clouded. Till within a fortnight of her 
 father's death, she had thought herself 
 the most fortunate of women ; since the 
 affection of the man whom her heart had 
 selected appeared, like her own, to
 
 CONCEALMENT. 41 
 
 acquire additional strength : she then re- 
 ceived the following note, which, being 
 in Italian, we will translate : 
 
 '^ Prize well the present moment of 
 flitting happiness; for know, proud 
 Beauty ! that one approaches, who, with 
 charms not inferior to your own, enslaved 
 the man you now call your husband, at a 
 time when you fondly thought he lived 
 but for you. The woman he has injured 
 and abandoned now comes to resume the 
 empire she so lately possessed over the 
 heart of your faithless lord ; or to revenge 
 herself on her for whom he wronged 
 
 VlTTORIA." 
 
 For some moments after reading the 
 above, consternation, grief, and despair, 
 filled the soul of Lady Montrevor ; till, 
 on reflection, love, and the high opinion 
 she entertained of her husband, with 
 well-founded confidence in his affection, 
 dispersed her terrors, and restored him
 
 42 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 to her unabated esteem. Rejecting the 
 belief that he could, though absent from 
 her, so forget his vows of affection as to 
 become the hero of an illicit amour, she 
 saw in this latter only the envious feel- 
 ings and mean revenge of some violent 
 and disappointed woman, who, perhaps, 
 had vainly endeavoured to supplant her 
 in the heart of the accomplished Mon- 
 trevor, then Mr. Stracey. 
 
 Steady in this opinion, she resolved to 
 treat the malignant intelligence with eon- 
 tempt, and carefully to conceal the cir- 
 cumstance from her husband, at least for 
 the present. Her behaviour to Lord 
 Montrevor was even more affectionate 
 than before, from the romantic and gene- 
 rous wish of atoning for the momentary 
 injustice her heart had been guilty of. 
 In the course of a w^eek after this circum- 
 stance, she observed with concern that 
 the spirits of her husband were occasion- 
 ally much depressed ; and, though his 
 manners were still all that was kind,
 
 CONCEALMENt. 43 
 
 he appeared agitated by some secret 
 uneasiness. 
 
 In vain she endeavoured to penetrate 
 the cause of this alteration ; he eluded 
 her inquiries, telling her, with a smile of 
 affection, that, while he saw her happy, 
 and knew she loved him, uneasiness 
 could find no entrance to his bosom. 
 But his wife saw too plainly it was 
 already there ; and moments were not 
 wanting w^hen the idea of a connexion 
 between her husband's anxiety, and her 
 Italian correspondent, came across her 
 thoughts. The suspicion, however, was 
 too painful to be cherished; and she 
 would probably have succeeded in sub- 
 duing it, had not a second incident 
 occurred to increase her fears and excite 
 her jealousy. 
 
 She received a parcel, enclosing a mi- 
 niature of Lord Montrevor, and the fol- 
 lowing words : 
 
 '' A bauble given by the fickle William 
 Stracey to the too credulous Vjttoria."
 
 44 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 As, with speechless agony, the unhappy 
 Lady Montrevor gazed on the resem- 
 blance of her husband, she remembered 
 her disappointment on his return from 
 Italy, when he said he had not had time 
 to have his picture taken, as he had pro- 
 mised; being called home just as he had 
 engaged the artist for the purpose. The 
 miniature she now held convicted him of 
 falsehood ; and, as an aggravation of her 
 mortification, on the back of the picture 
 was engraven — "The gift of the original 
 to his adored Vittoria." 
 
 To doubt now would have been obsti- 
 nate folly, and she yielded to all the 
 anguish of a susceptible mind, wounded 
 in the tenderest part, whose love and con- 
 fidence had been abused. Her mind, 
 however, was happily not without re- 
 sources : she called forth, on this occa- 
 sion, its natural strength, and resolved to 
 meet with firmness her great misfortune. 
 
 But hers was a living sorrow, which 
 neither art nor reason could at once repel ;
 
 CONCEALMENT. 45 
 
 destroying, by its incessant obtrusion, 
 the pleasures of society, and haunting 
 the shades of her solitude. Such, for 
 some time, were the effects of her grief 
 and resentment; but reason at length 
 resumed its usual empire over her 
 passions. 
 
 Love, too, pleaded in favour of a youth, 
 whose inexperience, warmth of temper, 
 and lively disposition, might have ren- 
 dered him an easy victim to the arts and 
 allurements of this Italian. To the fu- 
 ture, therefore, she determined to remit 
 her resentment, and await the event in 
 patient silence. 
 
 She now more strongly suspected the 
 source of Lord Montrevor's anxiety, and, 
 as the sincerity of his love for her was 
 demonstrated in every word and action, 
 she flattered herself he was only strug- 
 g-lins: between the wish of concealino^ 
 circumstances so wounding to her feel- 
 ings, and the desire of confiding all to 
 her tenderness. His thoughtfulness she
 
 4& CONCEALMENT. 
 
 attributed to apprehensions of some vio- 
 lent proceeding on the part of the en- 
 raged Vittoria, and the consequent dread 
 of a painful disclosure. At one time she 
 thought of shewing him the miniature 
 and Vittoria's note, assuring him that 
 Lady Montrevor would never resent the 
 affronts offered to Charlotte Byngham ; 
 then, again, she judged it would be more 
 delicate and prudent to allow him to set- 
 tle the affair with Vittoria as his honour 
 and heart should dictate. 
 
 '^If," she exclaimed, with affecting 
 energy, ''his heart is truly mine, my 
 interference is not necessary ; the hus- 
 band will triumph where the lover yield- 
 ed, he will have acquired an additional 
 claim to my regard ; and, when he disco- 
 vers that I was acquainted with the 
 circumstance, he must applaud my for- 
 bsarance." 
 
 Such was the state of things at Arling- 
 ham (Lord Montrevor's seat), when an 
 express announced the dangerous situa-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 47 
 
 tion of Mr. Byngham. Lady Montrevor 
 declared her intention of setting off in- 
 stantly for London, when, to her utter 
 astonishment, her husband, after some 
 hesitation and confusion, expressed his 
 concern that urgent business would pre- 
 vent his accompanying her. At this 
 information, the colour fled from the 
 cheeks of the unhappy Charlotte, tears 
 started to her eyes, her respiration be- 
 came difficult, and she leant on the back 
 of a chair to support her trembling frame. 
 His lordship had turned to the window 
 to conceal his own agitation, and there- 
 fore did not notice that of his wife, who, 
 by a strong effort, repressed her feelings, 
 and, saying inwardly — '' Be it so : to the 
 protecting care of heaven I trust my 
 peace," — hurried from the room. 
 
 At the moment of parting, Lady Mon- 
 trevor needed all the virtuous fortitude 
 with which her mind was endowed. 
 The behaviour of her husband, combined 
 with various other incidents, convinced
 
 48 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 her that the dreaded Vittoria was in the 
 neighbourhood ; and, therefore, he suffer- 
 ed her to travel without him. After a 
 few hasty reflections, she rose above the 
 pusillanimity of her sex, and resolved to 
 dare the truth. 
 
 '^ If," she thought, '' Lord Montrevor 
 is, indeed, the man my fond heart still 
 believes him, I have nothing to fear; and 
 he will seize this opportunity to free 
 himself from the importunities of that 
 vile woman ; and, if not, I could have but 
 little influence over a libertine character, 
 who would, perhaps, even throw off the 
 mask of affection. No, dearest husband ! 
 I disdain to use any restraint over your 
 conduct, but what arises from a pure and 
 tender attachment. Whatever I suffer 
 in this conflict, your own heart shall 
 decide the degree of happiness we are in 
 future to derive from each other." 
 
 With these sentiments she quitted 
 Montrevor, saying only, as she embraced 
 him, in violent emotion, '^ farewell, dear
 
 CONCEALMENT. 49 
 
 William ; and, when I see you again, 
 may no business, nor any secret vexa- 
 tion, cast a cloud on our meeting.'' He 
 pressed her to his bosom with tenderness; 
 and vowed, with passionate energy, that 
 to part with her was most painful to him, 
 " But, though imperious necessity," he 
 added, ^'requires my presence here, my 
 heart will be with you ; and, the moment 
 the accursed business that detains me is 
 settled, I will hasten to you, and forget 
 this vexatious separation." 
 
 This speech, and the manner in which 
 it was uttered, served to sooth, in some 
 measure, the anxiety of Lady Montrevor, 
 though it could not restore tranquillity to 
 her bosom, — which, in addition to her 
 own affliction, was torn by the fear of 
 losing a beloved father. Those appre- 
 hensions, as the reader has seen, were 
 fatally verified ; and never were tears 
 shed of more unfeigned sorrow. 
 
 The separation of intimate friends by 
 death is, perhaps, one of the severes 
 
 D
 
 50 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 trials to which our nature is exposed. 
 Many afflictions may be lessened by 
 worldly considerations, or softened by the 
 alleviations of Hope ; but here the loss 
 seems to be irreparable. We feel an 
 aching void in the heart, and sink into 
 that state of mind in which the soul 
 WTaps herself up in gloom and despon- 
 dency, and feels a mournful satisfaction 
 in the indulgence of silence and uncom- 
 fortable reflections. 
 
 Sensibility, however, in the mind of 
 Lady Montrevor, was a virtue, not a weak^ 
 ness ; and she was preserved by reason 
 and religion alike from the aflectation 
 and reality of immoderate aflfliction. 
 
 Happily for the relief of her oppressed 
 spirits, her husband soon joined her; 
 and, by his aflectionate behaviour, and 
 partial avowal of an imprudent con- 
 nexion he had been seduced into abroad, 
 and expressions of remorse, wholly re- 
 moved her uneasiness. He told her he 
 had learnt, after her departure, how far
 
 CONCEALMENT. M 
 
 she had been made acquainted with his 
 guilty conduct ; with enthusiasm com- 
 mended her delicacy and forbearance, 
 and vowed that, through life, every wish 
 of his heart should be directed to requite 
 her tenderness, and promote her happi- 
 ness. With some confusion he acknow- 
 ledged, that Vittoria had been in the 
 neighbourhood of Arlingham, and that 
 he had with difficulty prevailed on her to 
 return to her own country, whither he 
 was most happy in being able to assert 
 she was gone. In confirmation of this, 
 his lordship produced a few lines she had 
 written to him from Dover, bidding him 
 an eternal farewell, and saying she was 
 to embark the next hour for Calais. 
 
 Thus was perfect harmony restored be- 
 tween this youthful pair : Lord Montrevor, 
 happy in feeling his mind relieved from a 
 heavy weight that had of late oppressed it, 
 and in the certainty of his wife's forgive- 
 ness, soon ceased to reflect on the recent 
 events, and as soon regained all his usual 
 d2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF WMm
 
 6Si CONCEALMENT. 
 
 vivacity. Such, indeed, was the natural 
 course of a mind like his : unaccustomed 
 to habits of reflection, and averse to 
 examine with serious attention either the 
 motives or tendency of his actions, he 
 w^as a stranger to the art of self-disci- 
 pline, and, regardless of the future, as he 
 was incapable of profiting by the past, he 
 willingly obeyed the momentary im- 
 pulses which he received from his pas- 
 sions, or from the varying events of the 
 passing hour. 
 
 Lady Montrevor also on her part en- 
 deavoured, for his sake, to rally her 
 spirits ; but with her, it was reasonable 
 to suppose, the task was less easy. The 
 loss of her father was still fresh in her 
 memory ; the alarms of a wounded affec- 
 tion had scarcely ceased to vibrate : some 
 undefinable fears of a designing rival 
 still continued to overpower her judg- 
 ment, and to disturb her imagination ; 
 and the confession of her repentant hus- 
 band, although it called forth, and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 63 
 
 seemed to justify, the warmest regard for 
 him, was not yet sufficient to remove the 
 melancholy which oppressed her mind. 
 
 After several disappointments, severely 
 felt by both Lord and Lady Montrevor, 
 the latter gave birth to a girl, who claim- 
 ed all their affectionate attention, and 
 opened a new source of pleasure to its 
 delighted mother. 
 
 Mr. Byngham, with his wife, had 
 retired to an estate his father had pur- 
 chased on his arrival from India, in a 
 pleasant part of Hertfordshire ; and Mrs. 
 Leslie, having brought her long-projected 
 plans to perfection, and received, by her 
 deceased friend's will, a handsome addi- 
 tion to her fortune, settled at Bath, where 
 she had a large acquaintance. 
 
 The retirement to which Mr. Byngham 
 repaired was not by any means congenial 
 with the disposition of his bride, who 
 was anxious to enjoy the pleasures which 
 her marriage placed within her reach. 
 The moment, therefore, that decency 
 d3
 
 54 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 would permit, she insisted on returning 
 to London ; and, during the ensuing win- 
 ter, though in a situation that excited the 
 anxious fears of her husband, not all his 
 persuasions or entreaties could prevent 
 her launching into every species of dis- 
 sipation. 
 
 The consequences were such as Mr. 
 Byngham had vainly endeavoured to 
 guard against, and his hopes of becoming 
 a father frustrated for the present ; a 
 circumstance that greatly aifected him, 
 but which he saw, with pain, was 
 scarcely felt by his wife. He had not, 
 however, long to lament this disappoint- 
 ment : Mrs. Byngham again became 
 pregnant, and he now resolved to exert 
 his authority to prevent, if possible, a 
 repetition of his late vexation. 
 
 In pursuance of this determination, he 
 obliged his reluctant wife to remain quiet 
 in Hertfordshire till the birth of the in- 
 fant. He also drove from Austenbury 
 (the name of his seat,) every one who
 
 CONCEALMENT. 55 
 
 would have promoted dissipated amuse- 
 ment, and restrained Louisa from all 
 violent exercise, that might have again 
 endangered his hopes. The incessant 
 contentions occasioned by these proceed- 
 ings, placed this young couple on the 
 most unhappy terms. The lady was dis- 
 appointed at not having the uncontrolled 
 command of hei* actions, and her hus- 
 band's fortune ; for such were the gratifi- 
 cations which the prospect of this union 
 had always presented to her wishes. 
 The esteem and friendship of the man 
 for whom she professed a preference, the 
 cultivation of her own mind, and the 
 interesting duties of a married life, were 
 scarcely objects of her attention. Mr. 
 Byngham, on the other hand, soon be- 
 came disgusted with a woman he disco- 
 vered was deficient in most of the mild 
 and engaging virtues that should adorn 
 the sex, and which he had so frequently 
 admired in his sister. This deficiency 
 
 he had not sufficient affection for his 
 d4
 
 56 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 consort to excuse ; nor had he even love 
 enough for her to endeavour, by gentle 
 remonstrances, to lead her mind from the. 
 frivolities that engaged it, to the cultiva- 
 tion of more valuable qualities. 
 
 The precautions above mentioned were 
 crowned with success, and, in the second 
 year of his marriage, Mr. Byngham be- 
 came the father of a promising boy. The 
 little stranger for some time proved a 
 link of affection between the parents ; 
 but, though Louisa's heart was not abso- 
 lutely bady her virtue was too weak, and 
 her principles too unsteady, to proceed in 
 a line of conduct which, on a mind like 
 her husband's, might have been produc- 
 tive of the happiest consequences ; and 
 that husband had not patience to await 
 the amendment of faults and errors, many 
 of which would have been scarcely per- 
 ceivable, or might have been quickly 
 corrected, had he married from motives 
 of real attachment. 
 
 For a few years they trailed on a life
 
 CONCEALMENT. 67 
 
 of vexation and endless disagreement ; 
 till at length, wearied by a perverse and 
 perpetually recurring opposition, they 
 separated by mutual consent. 
 
 With much difficulty Louisa relin- 
 quished her child ; and, when she em- 
 braced him at parting, all the mother 
 rushed to her heart, and she felt the folly 
 and impropriety of her conduct : but 
 things had proceeded too far to retract, 
 and she left her husband's house, ac- 
 cusing him of injustice and want of 
 affection. 
 
 In this separation the heart of Byngham 
 did not wholly acquit him of unkindness ; 
 and he bitterly lamented the fatal infa- 
 tuation of his father, who, by controlling 
 his affections, had caused the unhappiness 
 of two persons, whose felicity he was 
 desirous of promoting. But, like Mrs. 
 Byngham, he reflected that it was too 
 late to recede ; and he endeavoured to 
 justify his conduct, by recapitulating the 
 various causes of uneasiness she had 
 d5
 
 58 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 given him. His arrangements for her 
 future maintenance were liberal ; and he 
 assured her she should on every occasion 
 find him a steady friend, requesting that 
 such a desirable intercourse might be 
 sustained by a frequent correspondence. 
 All these professions and arrangements 
 w^ere, however, chiefly dictated by his 
 sense of justice, not the effusions of his 
 heart. 
 
 This ill-fated marriage never, indeed, 
 promised a happy result. Mr. Byngham 
 regarded his wife with indifference. No 
 useful partiality, no sanguine hopes of 
 youth and passion, silenced the remon- 
 strances of his reason, or softened the 
 severity of his discernment. He saw 
 every symptom of folly, and every ap- 
 proach to vice, with circumstances of 
 aggravation ; and denied to her, what 
 human nature must ever require, the 
 kind and liberal allowance which candour 
 and benevolence should have suggested. 
 Mrs. Byngham's disposition and habits
 
 CONCEALMENT. 59 
 
 required the aid of affection and forbear- 
 ance in the object of her choice ; and, 
 being deprived of these advantages, she 
 excited in her husband contempt as well 
 as indifference, when she was exposed to 
 the constant and unyielding restraints of 
 a morality, of which education had given 
 her no idea. 
 
 Mrs. Leslie came to take her daughter 
 down to Bath, where she soon forgot, in a 
 round of amusements, a husband to whom 
 she had never been sincerely attached. 
 And, when uneasy sensations arose from 
 the natural source of maternal affection, 
 she eagerly subdued them, by reflecting, 
 that her son was the idol of his father, 
 and too young to miss her attention. 
 
 Lady Montrevor was more afflicted 
 than surprised at the domestic unhappi- 
 ness of her brother, and cheerfully under- 
 took to supply, occasionally, the place of 
 a mother to his son, then between six and 
 seven years old; promising that he should 
 share her affection with her own daugh-
 
 60 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ter, who was now in her fifth year. 
 Bynghatn's mind was too unsettled to 
 permit his remaining either at Austen- 
 bury, — where all reminded him of the 
 want of that domestic enjoyment for 
 which he felt his own mind and taste cal- 
 culated ; or at Arlingham, Lord Montre- 
 vor's residence in Devonshire, — where he 
 thought the happiness of its owner would 
 form a painful contrast with his misfor- 
 tunes. Taking leave, therefore, of his 
 son and sister, he departed on a solitary 
 tour to the English Lakes. There he 
 met with the adventures related in the 
 first pages of this volume ; and, if this 
 long digression has not damped the 
 reader's curiosity, we will lead him back 
 to Mr. Bynghara's lodgings at Keswick.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 61 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " ; for love is a flattering mischief, that hath denied 
 
 even aged and wise men a foresight of those evils that too 
 often prove to be children of that blind father; a passion 
 that carries us to commit errors with as much ease as whirl- 
 winds remove feathers," — fValton's Lives. 
 
 Vainly, for several days, did Mr. Byng- 
 ham endeavour to lose the impression 
 made on his mind by scenes in which he 
 had lately been so active. At every turn 
 of thought, imagination presented the 
 fascinating inhabitant of the rock. A 
 thousand times he recalled every word 
 she uttered, every attitude in which he 
 had seen her, and the inimitable grace 
 that marked her every action. But her 
 charms had spoken njost forcibly to his 
 heart on those occasions where she had 
 shone in the maternal character ; and, in 
 spite of the suspicions which appear- 
 ances seemed to justify, he could not
 
 62 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 refrain from exclaiming — " Such is the 
 woman to whom I would joyfully have 
 dedicated my existence, while I should 
 have found my own happiness in her 
 society." 
 
 The more he dwelt on this pleasing 
 object, the stronger his desire became of 
 penetrating the mystery that surrounded 
 her; and, though prudence represented 
 the impropriety of cultivating an acquain- 
 tance by which his passions had already 
 been but too much moved, he had not 
 resolution to obey her dictates ; but again 
 bent his steps towards the abode of the 
 incognita. He was received by her with 
 the blush of modesty, mingled with the 
 glow of grateful pleasure; while the 
 greetings of the twins declared their re- 
 collection of him. 
 
 Here Byngham spent several hours 
 with Mrs. Lawrence, experiencing great 
 satisfaction in her conversation, which 
 seemed naturally to flow from a mind 
 richly endowed and highly cultivated ;
 
 CONCEALMENT. 63 
 
 and, as he remarked the delicate refine- 
 ment and dignified reserve of her manner, 
 he sometimes reproached himself with 
 the unfavourable ideas he had formed of 
 her. He repeatedly mentioned taking 
 leave, in the hope of being asked to stay : 
 but he was disappointed, and obliged to 
 depart, full of increased admiration and 
 rising love. 
 
 These visits, by degrees, became daily, 
 notwithstanding the very slight encou- 
 ragement given by the lady ; who, 
 though often evidently distressed by his 
 persevering attentions, felt too essentially 
 obliged to hazard offending him. The 
 hours which Mr. Byngham thus spent 
 glided happily along, untroubled by re- 
 flections on the past, or uneasy anticipa- 
 tions of the future ; while Mrs. Lawrence's 
 understanding and sensibility, which 
 were gradually developed in this inti- 
 macy, completely subdued his unresist- 
 ing heart. 
 
 On the other hand, his pleasing raan- 
 
 1
 
 64 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ners, and, above all, his successful exer- 
 tions in the preservation of her child, 
 placed him in the most advantageous 
 light. Mrs. Lawrence soon gave him 
 her sincere esteem, and ceased to object 
 to visits productive only, as she thought, 
 of agreeable and innocent entertainment, 
 and which, therefore, the most strict pru- 
 dence could not censure. 
 
 Month after month thus rolled on, and 
 . still Byngham thought not of quitting 
 Keswick. He knew his son (at school 
 near London,) had every requisite atten- 
 tion paid him ; and his wife, with the 
 rest of the world, was forgotten in his 
 present delirium. 
 
 From the reluctance with which Mrs. 
 Lawrence spoke of her husband, and her 
 confusion when unable to evade the sub- 
 ject, Mr. Byngham still occasionally 
 entertained ideas of her situation most 
 unfavourable to her character ; and, 
 though painful, he could not drive them 
 from his mind.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 65^ 
 
 His admiration of her had, notwith- 
 standing, matured to an ardent passion ; 
 and his heart, hitherto but slightly affect- 
 ed by the charms of beauty, or the graces 
 of female conversation, now experienced 
 all the anxiety, transports, and despair of 
 love. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence, in person, manners, 
 sentiments, and accomplishments, fully 
 answered his most romantic ideas of a 
 wife, a friend, and a mother ; and bitterly 
 did he lament, that he had not expe- 
 rienced the influence of these engaging 
 qualities when they wei-e both unfettered. 
 
 These were, however, unavailing re- 
 grets ; and, by degrees, in blind obe- 
 dience to his passions, he indulged the 
 thought, that, could he succeed in in- 
 spiring her with sentiments congenial 
 with his own, it might still be possible 
 for him to enjoy her society. In this 
 hope, his attentions became more tender 
 and unremitting ; w hile he began to flat- 
 ter himself with having made some
 
 66 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 impression on her heart ; and, at length, 
 he determined to end the painful uncer- 
 tainty that agitated his mind. 
 
 This resolution, though daily renewed, 
 was daily rendered ineffectual by the 
 chaste and unembarrassed dignity that 
 appeared in the person and conduct of 
 Mrs. Lawrence, and which damped, on 
 several occasions, his dishonourable hopes. 
 He next determined to impart his senti- 
 ments by writing. This he did in the 
 warmest terms, entreating a return to 
 the passion that filled a heart never be- 
 fore susceptible of love : adding, that the 
 permission to dedicate his life to her, 
 would make him the happiest of men. 
 Elate with hope, he set out to deliver the 
 letter himself; and had arrived within a 
 few paces of the house, when, at the 
 window of Mrs. Lawrence's chamber he 
 saw a young man apparently just risen. 
 Immediately painful suspicions struck 
 the heart of Byngham, and he hastily 
 conceived that this person was, doubt-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 67 
 
 less, the paramour of the pretended wi- 
 dow, and one for whom his love would 
 be scorned and neglected. He withdrew 
 from observation, till his agitation, hav- 
 ing a little subsided, he resolved to pro- 
 ceed to the house, and at least enjoy the 
 pleasure of witnessing her confusion. 
 Again, then, he had nearly gained the 
 door, when he saw Mrs. Lawrence walk- 
 ing on the grass before it, familiarly 
 leaning on the arm of an elegant young 
 man in regimentals, the same he had 
 seen at the window. The gentleman 
 held Julia by the hand, while Frederick 
 was playing with the hilt of his sword. 
 Mr. Byngham again retired, cursing the 
 deceitful charms of the whole sex, and 
 still more his own weakness. 
 
 About half a mile from the foot of the 
 hill stood a small cottage, at which our 
 adventurer had often been tempted to 
 make inquiries respecting his new ac- 
 quaintance, but had been withheld by a 
 sense of propriety. Now, however, he
 
 68 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 thought that her duplicity towards him 
 justified every endeavour to gratify his 
 long suspended curiosity ; and he entered 
 the house, requesting leave to rest him- 
 self. This was readily granted by an 
 elderly woman, — of whom, after several 
 common-place questions, he made some 
 direct inquiries relative to the family on 
 the rock; and received the following 
 answer. 
 
 ''Why, to be sure, sir, as you say, it is 
 a comical place ; but what I think more 
 strange is, that such a sweet young crea- 
 ture should like to live there. It is now, 
 I think, somewhere about four years and 
 a half since Mr. Sharply, Major Howard's 
 steward, brought workmen to the rock, 
 which, in a short time, became quite an- 
 other thing, and was furnished like a lit-^ 
 tie palace. All this was no sooner done, 
 than Mr. Howard brings down from 
 London this lady, who soon lay-in of the 
 two dear babes you have seen."
 
 CONCEALMENT. 69 
 
 "What aged man is the major 1" ea- 
 gerly asked Byngham. 
 
 " Oh ! a matter of seventy," replied the 
 communicative dame ; " and never comes 
 to these parts : it is his son who manages 
 his affairs ; and a charming youth he is, 
 and an officer." 
 
 " He then it was who placed the lady 
 here]" 
 
 ''Yes, sir; and has often come to see 
 
 her. To be sure, my conscience will 
 
 not let me say all is right, seeing he is 
 
 married to another woman, who, I am 
 
 told, is a young handsome lady too : but, 
 
 as for this here lady, she may have made 
 
 a slip, and may be what folks call a bad 
 
 woman ; but the goodness of her heart 
 
 makes me forget all that. I thought of 
 
 her last Sunday, when the parson said 
 
 charity would cover a multitude of sins ; 
 
 and, as he cries out against the poor lady 
 
 almost in the pulpit, I was determined to 
 
 have a fling at him. So, when he spoke 
 
 to me in the church-yard (which, I must
 
 70 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 say, he often does), I told him, that, if 
 what he had said was true, the lady at 
 the rock had no sins at all, but what she 
 had well covered, — let her have as many 
 as she would. Nay, I pushed it farther, 
 and declared, that, if she did not go to 
 heaven, some folks 1 knew (meaning his 
 own wife, sir, — who, I have heard, is no 
 better than she should be,) ought to give 
 it up for a bad job. This was, to be 
 sure, speaking pretty home ; but he has 
 provoked me by railing at Mrs. Law- 
 rence, and I could not help giving him a 
 bit of my mind. Well, sir, this rub of 
 mine so knocked him down, that he had 
 not another word to say. Bless her," 
 added dame Price, her tone changing, 
 and her eyes filling with tears, — " it is to 
 her we owe the roof that covers us, and 
 the bread we eat. Oh ! she is as good 
 as an angel : and so my husband would 
 tell you, if he was at hand." 
 
 "Mr. Howard is, then, the father of 
 her children V
 
 CONCEALMENT. 71 
 
 " Aye, sure he is ; and more 's the pity, 
 since he can't marry her. I wish to my 
 heart his wife was dead ; then, indeed, 
 he might shew if he had any honor in him 
 or not. Truly, it is a sad thing young 
 men should——" 
 
 Byngham had heard enough, and 
 agreed in the justice of the remarks Mrs. 
 Price was going to make ; and, liberally 
 rewarding her loquacity, took leave. 
 
 On his way to his lodgings, Byngham 
 was alternately agitated by love, despair, 
 pity, and resentment. All he heard of 
 Mrs. Lawrence tended to increase his 
 passion, and fill his soul with tender 
 commisseration for a young creature, 
 who was the victim of her own too great 
 sensibility, and the baseness of man. 
 Howard was the father of her children, 
 and the undoubted object of her affec- 
 tion : allowing, then, for her peculiar 
 situation, Mr. Byngham acknowledged 
 she could not have acted with more sin-
 
 72 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 cerity towards himself; and, feeling how 
 vain it would be to cherish the hopes he 
 had lately formed, he determined to tear 
 himself from a spot so inimical to his 
 peace. 
 
 The letter he had written was now 
 destroyed ; and, after many painful efforts, 
 he wrote another, informing her that un- 
 expected business called him immediately 
 to town ; that it might, probably, be his 
 misfortune never to have the pleasure of 
 seeing her again, yet that he should 
 always retain the remembrance of the 
 happy hours spent in her society. She 
 might, he assured her, rely on his steady 
 friendship towards herself and children ; 
 and concluded with a request to be occa- 
 sionally favoured with a few lines, as a 
 proof he was still sometimes recollected. 
 This letter was accompanied by a minia- 
 ture of himself, which Mrs. Byngham had 
 pettishly returned to him, and which he 
 desired might be given to Frederick,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 73 
 
 when he was old enough to understand 
 it was that of a friend who would always 
 be interested in his welfare. 
 
 After remitting this packet to dame 
 Price, Byngham hastily quitted a place 
 that reminded him only of his disap- 
 pointment. A virtuous conflict arose in 
 his mind ; the illusions of hope vanished : 
 he even reproached himself with his dis- 
 graceful ardour in the pursuit of guilty 
 pleasures, acknowledging that his distress 
 and disappointment were just, as well as 
 natural ; and he felt disposed to submit 
 to the powerful dictates of reason, and an 
 undepraved heart. 
 
 These workings, however, of natural 
 goodness, these faithful admonitions of a 
 moral sense, were in their effects but of 
 short continuance, and yielded too soon 
 to the warmth and influence of youthful 
 inclinations ; for, although every receding 
 mile brought a change of objects, no 
 permanent change was thereby efiected 
 in his mind. The fascinating image of
 
 74 
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence engrossed all his thoughts^ 
 and filled his heart with passionate re- 
 grets, that did not subside till he pressed 
 his son to his bosom, — who affectionately 
 chid his long absence. His tenderness 
 wrung the heart of his father, and tears 
 mingled with his caresses. With this 
 little partner in his domestic misfortunes, 
 -he now retired to indulge, amid the 
 shades of Austenbury, reflections of many 
 a varied hue. 
 
 Byngham soon received a letter from 
 Mrs. Lawrence. It was replete with 
 expressions of lively gratitude, esteem, 
 and regret at his departure. She told 
 him Frederick had refused to relinquish 
 the miniature, insisting on wearing it 
 fastened to his sash. Remote, she said, 
 from the busy scene in which he was 
 formed to live, she could not hope much 
 of his society would fall to her share ; yet 
 she flattered herself, heaven would not 
 add to her misfortunes, that of refusing 
 her occasional meetings with the pre-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 75 
 
 server of her child. She ended her letter 
 with prayers for his felicity, and a repe- 
 tition of her gratitude for his assurances 
 of friendship. 
 
 The melancholy that seemed to run 
 through every line of this letter, and the 
 regret and surprise expressed by the 
 w^riter at his sudden departure, revived 
 at times, in Mr. Byngham's mind, the 
 flattering idea, that he was not indifferent- 
 to her ; in spite of what he had seen and 
 heard the day before he left Keswick. 
 There were moments when he delivered 
 himself up to all the transports attending 
 the belief of being beloved by the woman 
 he adored : but there were others, when 
 he felt his soul would turn disgusted 
 even from Mrs. Lawrence, if her heart 
 could be so light as to encourage a par- 
 tiality for him, while living under the 
 protection of another man, who was the 
 father of her children. 
 
 Eager to justify to himself, by the 
 amiableness of its object, a passion he 
 e2
 
 76 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 feared neither time nor absence could 
 subdue, he experienced the various in- 
 consistent agitations of a state of doubt 
 and affection : at one time soothing his 
 mind with the prospects of improbable 
 changes, and the returns of successful 
 love ; at another, resolving to render 
 himself independent of the accidents of 
 fortune. 
 
 The perturbed and unhappy state of 
 his spirits threatened to impair his 
 health ; yet, at the moment when the 
 heart of this unfortunate young man was 
 writhing under all the tortures of a de- 
 spairing passion, he suddenly formed the 
 resolution of seeking its remedy in a re- 
 union with his wife. This was an effort 
 of romantic virtue ; but let not the reader 
 suspect that we exhibit a creature of our 
 own imagination : we present to him no 
 fictitious character ; but, true to nature, 
 faithfully record the honest feelings of a 
 mind like Byngham's, misled, but not en- 
 »slaved, by passion ; struggling amidst the
 
 CONCEALMENT. T7 
 
 solicitations of desire, to retrace its wan- 
 dering steps, and endeavouring, with 
 anxious perseverance, to obey the impe- 
 rious calls of reason and duty. 
 
 In pursuance of this well-intended plan , 
 Byngham repaired to Bath, determined, 
 if he had reason to be satisfied with his 
 wife's conduct, to spare nothing that 
 might induce her to return to her family. 
 On the road he prepared the arguments 
 by which he would endeavour to con- 
 vince her, that the happiness of both was 
 yet attainable, would she but second his 
 wishes ; and, content with a rational en- 
 joyment of the pleasures of life, renounce 
 the whirlpool of dissipation in which 
 alone she had formerly found amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 This scheme was, perhaps, engendered 
 by despair, and the mistaken prudence of 
 a warm and good disposition : but, alas ! 
 it served only to detach his mind, for a 
 short time, from a subject that had lately 
 e3
 
 78 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 SO unfortunately engrossed it. The en- 
 thusiasm that carried him to Bath chilled 
 during the last stage; and, accustomed 
 lately to contemplate beauty, heightened 
 by sensibility and every attractive charm 
 of female loveliness, he shrunk from the 
 thought of renewing an intercourse w^ith 
 a vs^oman w^hose superficial accomplish- 
 ments had failed to excite his love, and 
 whose spurious and affected virtues were 
 totally undeserving of his esteem. 
 
 Still, however, he determined to ad-- 
 here to his purpose ; influenced by con- 
 siderations, which respected the hap- 
 piness of his wife and child more than 
 his own, and impelled, moreover, by a 
 point of romantic honour, and a high 
 sense of rectitude. Happy might have 
 been the issue, had he met a single con- 
 genial sentiment in the soul of his wife. 
 But Mrs. Byngham was not yet tired 
 of the life of freedom she had led since 
 their separation ; and, though for a mo-
 
 CONCEALMENT, T9 
 
 ment affected by the advances of her 
 husband, she persisted in refusing to 
 accede to his wishes, but on terms that 
 clearly proved the selfishness of her 
 motives. 
 
 Finding her thus cold and insensible, 
 iie turned from her with disgust and in- 
 dignation ; well satisfied with having 
 taken a step that wholly reconciled him 
 to himself, while his heart involuntarily 
 rejoiced that it had proved inefiectual. 
 
 Byngham stayed not long at Bath 
 after this interview ; but returned to 
 London, where he dragged on a melan- 
 choly existence, — though surrounded by 
 the inviting and tumultuous pleasures of 
 the metropolis. He heard, in the mean- 
 while, several times from Mrs. Lawrence; 
 but her letters were interesting only 
 as they were her's. She confined herself 
 solely to the subject of her children ; 
 and her letters chiefly indicated an in- 
 creased dejection of spirits, that variously 
 e4
 
 80 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 affected Mr. Byngham. At length, afte^ 
 an absence of some months, and having 
 vainly essayed every means likely to 
 weaken the unhappy passion that preyed 
 on his mind, he rehailed the Lake of 
 Keswick.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ^* Harke ! the ravenne flappes hys wynge, 
 
 In the briered dell belowe ; 
 Harke ! the dethe-owle loude dothe synge, 
 To the nyghte-mares as heie goe j 
 Mie love ys dedde, 
 Gone to hys deathe-bedde, 
 Al under the wyliowe-tree." 
 
 CHATTERTON. 
 
 Determined to see what effect his sud- 
 den appearance would have on Mrs. 
 Lawrence, Byngham gave her no inti- 
 mation of his design ; but, agitated by 
 the images his fancy pictured, he set out 
 for the cottage, uncertain if he might not 
 there meet his favoured rival. 
 
 This uncertainty induced him to stop 
 at dame Price's, where he learnt that 
 Capt. Howard was gone abroad; and 
 that, since his departure, Mrs. Lawrence 
 had been more low spirited than ever. 
 The latter part of this speech destroyed 
 all the pleasure the first had excited in 
 £ 5
 
 82 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the bosom of Byngham, who now slowly 
 advanced to the cottao^e. 
 
 He had not proceeded far, when, as he 
 was going to turn up the path that led 
 round the side of the mountain, Julia 
 Lawrence, pursued by her brother, came 
 running down. The latter immediately 
 recollected Mr. Byngham, who caught 
 them alternately in his arms, and eagerly 
 inquired for their mother. 
 
 " Oh ! we are going to see dame Price ;-' 
 said Julia. 
 
 *' Mamma is under the tree there ;" 
 answered Frederick, pointing to a dis- 
 tance : '' she will be glad to see you." 
 
 " And so shall I, when I come back," 
 added Julia; ''and you shall be my papa 
 Byng, as well as Fred's ; but now we 
 must carry this flannel jacket to make 
 poor Mrs. Price's rheumatism well." 
 She then drew her reluctant companion 
 away. 
 
 The heart of Byngham fluttered, as, 
 turning from the lovely children, he per-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 83 
 
 ceived their mother advancing towards 
 him. Mrs. Lawrence was herself too 
 much agitated, at this unexpected meet- 
 ing, to notice particularly the extreme 
 embarrassment of her friend ; and it was 
 not till they had nearly reached the house 
 that either of them were sufficiently col- 
 lected to converse as formerly. 
 
 Mr. Byngham soon discovered a visible 
 alteration in the manners and counte- 
 nance of Mrs. Lawrence ; which, though 
 he had not often seen enlivened with 
 cheerful animation, had never been so 
 deeply shaded by melancholy as at pre- 
 sent. He could not contemplate her 
 features, rendered more lovely by this 
 expression, without the tenderest sym- 
 pathy; though he concluded he knew but 
 too well how to account for her un- 
 easiness. 
 
 Before, however, he took his leave, he 
 had the pleasure to see much of this de- 
 jection yield to something like liveliness ; 
 and hear her inquire, with eagerness, if
 
 84 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the business that brought him to Keswick 
 would detain him any time. He answer- 
 ed, with hesitation, that he feared not ; 
 and, having obtained an un reluctant per- 
 mission to see her again the following 
 day, he returned to his lodgings fluctua- 
 ting between opposite sensations. Still 
 undetermined as to the conduct he should 
 pursue, he repaired, in the afternoon of 
 the following day, to the rock. 
 
 A momentary glow of pleasure shot 
 across Mrs. Lawrence's before pallid 
 countenance as he entered; and Julia, 
 running to him, cried — " Dear Mr.Byng, 
 mamma has been crying sadly : perhaps 
 it is for you." He kissed the little che- 
 rub ; and, looking at her mother, said, 
 the supposition, he feared, was too flatter- 
 ing to be true. 
 
 She made no reply ; and immediately 
 began to talk on indiff'erent subjects : 
 but her children seemed this day fated to 
 distress her ; for, soon after, Byngham, 
 observing the little boy busily engaged in
 
 CONCEALMENT. 85 
 
 studying the miniature, asked if he knew 
 any one like that picture 1 
 
 " Yes ; it is like you ;" answered Fre- 
 derick : " but I was thinking how mamma 
 can talk to this little man, just as if it 
 was as big as you." 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence now rose hastily, and, 
 putting the children from the room, 
 would have also retired ; but Mr. Byng- 
 ham gently retained her, and, seizing her 
 trembling hand, exclaimed — ''Dare I, 
 loveliest of women, encourage this dawn 
 of hope? May I declare that I have long 
 loved you with the most fervent affection, 
 and that on you must depend the future 
 happiness of my life." 
 
 '' Forbear, sir : this must not be ;" said 
 Mrs. Lawrence, in extreme agitation, and 
 almost gasping for breath. 
 
 ''And why not, my charming friend?" 
 answered he, pressing her hand forcibly 
 to his lips. "Oh! say that you will 
 accept a heart which never loved before, 
 that you will consent to be the object of
 
 86 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 my tender affection, and bless with your 
 love one who will live but for you." 
 
 *^ Oh ! Byngham," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Lawrence, bursting into tears, " you 
 know not the guilt of this address :*' 
 then pointing, with frantic gestures, to 
 her children, who were at a short distance 
 from the window, she added — '^ Look 
 there, sir, see these unhappy infants — 
 know their father still lives ; and then 
 say, if my weak, distracted, broken heart, 
 can, or ought, to own another lord. For- 
 bid it heaven, and every principle of 
 virtue !" She then covered her face with 
 her hands, and hastened from the room ; 
 leaving Byngham overwhelmed with sur- 
 prise and agitation, at the manner in 
 which the declaration of his sentiments 
 had been received. 
 
 Before he had sufficiently collected his 
 ideas, so as to form any opinion as to the 
 ultimate success of his wishes, she re-en- 
 tered the room. Her eyes were swelled 
 with weeping, her face wa^ more than
 
 CONCEALMENT. 87 
 
 usualty pale, and her whole frame trem- 
 bled excessively: but a dignified com- 
 posure soon settled on her countenance, 
 and she thus addressed him : 
 
 " I will not affect to misunderstand 
 the nature of your sentiments, nor will I 
 deny the esteem your virtues and steady 
 friendship have excited in my mind." 
 
 " Esteem !" exclaimed Byngham, with 
 impatience ; '^ and do you think so cold a 
 return will satisfy a man who loves you as 
 I do? Retract the word, or say, at least, 
 that I may hope in time to excite a 
 warmer sensation in your bosom!" 
 
 "Hope it not;" said Mrs. Lawrence, 
 with solemnity, while a deep suffusion 
 for a moment overspread her face : "all 
 of preference and kind regard this heart 
 can ever feel are already your's. Grati- 
 tude for my child's life first made me 
 bless you ; and, could I again have loved 
 — your virtues — ^but what am I saying ;" 
 added she, pressing her hand to her fore- 
 head, and withdrawing the other from
 
 88 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Byngham, who had seized it: '^ my senses 
 seem bewildered ; let me hasten to end 
 this scene. Mr. Byngham, I am no wi- 
 dow, — the father of my children lives, 
 though dead to me, and— oh ! distracting 
 thought — to those unhappy children also. 
 Yes; helpless, disowned, without a friend, 
 without a name, I shall leave them to 
 struggle wuth misfortune, dependence, if 
 not want and disgrace." 
 
 " Never," cried Byngham, greatly af- 
 fected, and passionately grasping her 
 hand : " from this moment I swear to 
 shield them with my affection, my for- 
 tune, my life, from all the woes you fear ; 
 and," he continued, rage sparkling in his 
 eyes, '^ when I forget this oath, may I feel 
 all the torturing pangs of guilt and 
 remorse I here invoke on the base se- 
 ducer of your innocence — the detested 
 Howard." 
 
 As the terrific tornado in a moment 
 sweeps, from the smiling face of Nature, 
 the promised harvest, the well grown
 
 CONCEALMENT. 89 
 
 stately trees, beautifying shrubs, and gay 
 parterres ; so did Byngham's concluding 
 Sentence in an instant sweep, from the 
 expressive countenance of Mrs. Law- 
 rence, the brightening ray of joy his 
 promise of befriending her children had 
 kindled. Struck with sudden horror and 
 amazement, she flew to the opposite side 
 of the room, almost shrieking, as she ex- 
 claimed — " Howard ! a seducer !" and 
 sunk faintino* to the around. 
 
 Byngham, greatly terrified, raised her 
 to a chair near the window, and had soon 
 the satisfaction of seeing her revive. A 
 flood of tears seemed to relieve her ; 
 while Byngham, a prey to painful feelings 
 and conjectures, still supported her in his 
 arms, at a loss whether to apologise for 
 having unintentionally wounded her by 
 vs^hat he had said ; or to wait a further 
 explanation. At length she appeared to 
 recollect herself; and, rising, said, in ac- 
 cents of the deepest aflfliction, and, in a 
 voice scarcely intelligible from emotion —
 
 90 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 " This blow will, I fear, sink me indeed : 
 what has been your opinion of me? 
 What of my poor children? Howard! 
 too, best and kindest of friends ! malice 
 has even reached your fair name ; and 
 base calumny, that would not have dared 
 to breathe in your presence, now boldly 
 rears its head to sully your virtue, and 
 crush the poor unhappy being your hu- 
 manity snatched from despair." 
 
 " Spare me!" cried Byngham: ^^ slander 
 and circumstances have, indeed, deceived 
 me : but I should not have believed them 
 —never ought I to have thought of you, 
 but as of an angel of purity, every way 
 worthy my adoration. Qh! you never 
 will or can forgive me." 
 
 " Yes, Byngham, I can forgive you;" 
 said Mrs. Lawrence, pressing her joint 
 hands on her bosom, and struggling to 
 subdue emotions that seemed almost to 
 choak her utterance. " You have, in- 
 deed, been cruelly deceived ; but, I must 
 confess, circumstances were but too well
 
 CONCEALMENT. 91 
 
 calculated to mislead your judgment re- 
 specting me. At any rate, never can I 
 feel resentment or anger against the man 
 who saved my boy, or the friend who has 
 promised that protection to my children I 
 feel they vs^ill soon need," 
 
 She then extended her hand to Byng- 
 ham, down whose manly face tears of 
 sympathy and affection fell fast, saying — 
 " And now, my good friend, let us forget 
 this last afflictive hour : all the atonement 
 I ask, for the injustice you have involun- 
 tarily done me, is to believe, without fur- 
 ther explanation, that I am worthy of 
 your friendship ; and that my unhappy 
 children, though poor, destitute, and 
 victims of pride and prejudice, need 
 never blush for their birth, or for any 
 errors of their mother." 
 
 Byngham eagerly seized her offered 
 hand ; and, having pressed it to his 
 throbbing heart, hastily rushed from the 
 house, unable longer to sustain the vio- 
 lence of his feelings. All night the scene
 
 92 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 of the preceding day was before his ima- 
 gination, and he was agitated by regret 
 and anguish at having adopted the igno- 
 rant opinion of dame Price, and, by inju- 
 rious suspicions, lacerated a heart al- 
 ready sinking under the weight of severe 
 distress and anticipated sorrow. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence was married : so much 
 she had declared ; and thus were his long 
 cherished hopes completely crushed. 
 There was much mystery certainly about 
 her conduct, and she was evidently 
 abandoned by her husband ; but, in all 
 he had seen of her, there had appeared 
 no levity, no weakness to justify such 
 desertion ; and the fearless manner with 
 which she had briefly described her situa- 
 tion, seemed to demand assent, and gave 
 to her words the confidence of truth. 
 
 It was now, therefore, that Byngham's 
 virtuous principles, and his increased 
 admiration of Mrs. Lawrence's character, 
 suppressed every improper wish ; and he 
 felt that the friendship of such a woman
 
 CONCEALMENT. 93 
 
 would have more real charms for him 
 than the warmest attachment of any 
 other. Denied that domestic comfort 
 for which his mind was formed, he re- 
 solved to make this platonic affection his 
 chief and most agreeable study, and ne- 
 ver to hazard its life by aspiring to more. 
 The youthful ardour with which he had 
 lately been inspired, though not extin- 
 guished, was suspended ; his ingenuous 
 nature disdained every selfish gratifica- 
 tion, or sought it only in the benevolent 
 wish of effectually restoring the tran- 
 quillity of its object. 
 
 By these reflections, and repeated 
 efforts to allay the still agitated state of 
 his mind, and form his future arrange- 
 ments, he succeeded in obtaining a suffi- 
 <;ient degree of calmness to meet Mrs. 
 Lawrence the following day. With a 
 beating heart he approached the house, 
 round which there seemed to reign more 
 than the usual stillness. He reached the 
 inner apartment without seeing any one,
 
 94 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and was leaving it when he perceived, in 
 one corner, Frederick, sitting on the 
 floor, supporting the head of his sleeping 
 sister on his lap. The little boy held up 
 his finger to bespeak silence; then, beck- 
 oning Byngham, whispered that his poor 
 mamma was very ill ; that Julia had just 
 cried herself to sleep ; and that, as Mar- 
 garet had told them to make no noise to 
 wake their mamma, he hoped Julia 
 would sleep a long time. At the same 
 moment the physician came down stairs, 
 followed by the weeping Margaret ; from 
 whose communications Mr. Byngham 
 learnt, with horror inexpressible, that 
 there was no hope Mrs. Lawrence could 
 survive the present day, — having, the 
 preceding evening, by some unusual agi- 
 tation, broken a blood-vessel in the chest ; 
 which, from her weak state, and the cir- 
 cumstance of its being a second rupture, 
 must be fatal. 
 
 Vain would be the endeavour to de- 
 scribe the agonizing feelings of Mr.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 95 
 
 Byngham on finding himself by the bed- 
 side of his suffering friend, then almost in 
 the pangs of death. To that premature 
 dissolution, he shuddered to think that 
 he, however innocently, had been acces- 
 sory ; and he expressed his grief in the 
 most frantic exclamations. 
 
 Mrs. Lawrence raised her nearly ex- 
 hausted form, and, taking his hand, press- 
 it with all her remaining energy, saying, 
 ^^ My prayer is heard ; and heaven has 
 sent you, my kind, my only friend, to re- 
 ceive, with my parting breath, the sacred 
 trust you once promised to accept." — 
 She then directed the attendant to bring: 
 the children. 
 
 " Oh ! these words are daggers to me," 
 said Byngham: '4ong may they own a 
 mother's care ; in me they will learn to 
 curse a mother's murderer." 
 
 ''Byngham," said Mrs. Lawrence, 
 "you are preparing ungrounded remorse 
 and grief for yourself. This is not a 
 moment, — if, indeed, there ever was one,
 
 96 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 — in which I would deceive ; and, be- 
 lieve me, you are not accessory to my 
 death : the cause lies much deeper. I 
 have never recovered from a similar 
 attack I experienced some years ago ; and 
 the accident of yesterday is what I have 
 often anticipated, with agonies and ap- 
 prehensions sufficient to produce it. Yes, 
 I have long seen this moment approach- 
 ing ; and, but for my children, it would be 
 one of joy. But now," continued she, 
 with momentary energy, "my heart beats 
 light; like that of some wretched pri- 
 soner, long confined to the loathsome 
 horrors of a dungeon, as he waits while 
 they strike off the fetters that alone detain 
 him from liberty and happiness. You 
 have promised to protect my orphan chil- 
 dren ; and, with the will, heaven has 
 granted you the power. My days have 
 been few, my miseries many ; but cares 
 and sorrows are fast fading, and for one 
 purpose only my soul still seems to linger. 
 Trusting to your friendship, your honour,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 97 
 
 ilare I say — your love, I venture to remind 
 ^ou of your voluntary oath to be a father 
 o my children ; and, oh ! believe a dying 
 woman, — misfortune, but no disgraceful 
 stigma, marked their birth." 
 
 During this address, often interrupted 
 by mental emotion, and obstructed respi- 
 ration, Byngham was convulsed by the 
 most violent agitation, which wholly de- 
 prived him of the power of utterance. 
 
 On the entrance of the children, he 
 took them in his arms, and, dropping on 
 his knees, exclaimed, with uplifted and 
 streaming eyes — '' Hear me repeat, Fa- 
 ther of the fatherless ! my unchangeable 
 vow to adopt these infants, and cherish 
 them, while I have life, with a parent's 
 tenderness ; and if I ever forget this duty, 
 may thy just vengeance strike my per- 
 jured soul, and leave me friendless and 
 accursed in my latest hour." 
 
 A ray of almost supernatural pleasure 
 beamed in the features of Mrs. Lawrence 
 as she gave him her hand. *' One word 
 
 F
 
 98 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 more ;" she said, with difficulty : *' let me 
 believe that you disavow the thought, 
 that I was unworthy your good opinion — 
 your regard." 
 
 '' Oh ! most injured of women ;" cried 
 Byngham, clasping her fast chilling 
 hand : " I believe that you are all imagi- 
 nation could form to bless and delight 
 this wretched heart ; and, if it loses you, 
 it will never more know happiness." 
 
 *' Say not so ;" returned his now expir- 
 ing friend : " your virtues will find their 
 just reward — Farewell — be happy — and 
 remember — take care of the casket : it 
 contains all I dare — " Exhausted na- 
 ture could no more : she sunk back on 
 her pillow ; and, in a few minutes, her 
 pure spirit had quitted its frail tenement ; 
 Reaving Mr. Byngham miserable almost 
 beyond the power of endurance. It was 
 many hours before he could regain suffi- 
 cient composure to take the necessary 
 steps on this trying occasion. A will 
 was found dated only the preceding
 
 CONCEALMENT. 99 
 
 evening, naming him her sole executor, 
 trustee, and guardian of her children. 
 
 The indispensable exertions which 
 arose from these various duties, vrere iti 
 a degree serviceable ; as they necessarily 
 engaged his thoughts, and contributed, 
 in some measure, to stem the tide of his 
 overwhelming affliction. 
 
 Every mark of respect the mourn- 
 ful occasion would permit, attended the 
 interment of the ill-fated Mrs. Lawrence, 
 who, at the age of two-and-twenty, found 
 a grave, where she was wholly unknown. 
 
 It was, indeed, a scene on which sym- 
 pathy and sorrow might love to dwell ; 
 might indulge the pensive thought, and 
 prompt the ready tear, when it was 
 known, that no near relative, no long- 
 cherished friend, shielded in life this in- 
 teresting sufferer, soothed in death her 
 last moments, and followed her remains 
 to the silent tomb. One deeply afflicted 
 being, with her weeping children, and 
 f2
 
 100 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the uninterested throng of village spec- 
 tators, composed the funeral procession. 
 
 This last sad ceremony over, Byngham 
 hastened to settle Mrs. Lawrence's af- 
 fairs ; and having collected, with anxious, 
 almost superstitious, care, all her papers 
 and writings, he deposited them, with the 
 casket, in a strong box, which had be- 
 longed to her ; and, no further instruc- 
 tions appearing at present necessary, he 
 resolved to postpone the examination of 
 these articles till he had quitted this 
 mournful scene, and was more equal to 
 the painful task. 
 
 From dictates of prudence, Byngham 
 liberally rewarded old Margaret, and dis- 
 charged her from further attendance on 
 the unfortunate orphans, — with whom, 
 as soon ag possible, he quitted a spot, 
 where he had experienced such a con- 
 trariety of sensations.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 10 1 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Yon raay take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the 
 spleen, flour of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the 
 brain ; but no receipt openetU the heart, but a true friend, 
 to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspi- 
 cions, counsels, and whatever lieth upon the heart to oppress 
 it, in a kind of civil shrift or confession." bacun. 
 
 Very different was the state of mind in 
 which Byngham now retraced the same 
 road over which he had so lately gone. 
 Then, assuredly, he was neither tranquil, 
 nor happy ; but his spirits were rendered 
 buoyant by undefined hopes and wishes, 
 which he fondly cherished, but dared not 
 investigate. Contemplating the grand 
 and beautiful scenery, as he approached 
 the dwelling of Mrs. Lawrence, he had 
 felt the full force of its natural effect upon 
 his mind. His heart glowed with senti- 
 ments of gratitude and admiration to- 
 wards the great Creator, whose divine 
 and general benevolence not only pro- 
 f8
 
 102 
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 vides for the support of man, but, with 
 condescending care, thus blesses his 
 existence with a succession of various 
 and endless gratifications. 
 
 Then, pursuing this train of thought, 
 he pictured to himself an imaginary state 
 of retirement in this delightful spot ; 
 where the enjoyment of Mrs. Lawrence's 
 love, the endearments of Edward, with 
 the occasional intercourse of his sister, 
 might solely constitute his happiness. 
 
 But oh ! affliction ! how effectually can 
 thy magic power change and disfigure 
 all things— even the very beauteous face 
 of nature ; while the soul on w hich thy 
 " iron hand" is laid becomes suddenly 
 chilled, appalled, and darkened. 
 
 Now all was gloom within the mind of 
 Byngham : no cheering hope, no self- 
 complacent thought, arose, to fill the 
 aching void in his heart. 
 
 From the world, to which he was 
 hastening almost without a motive, he 
 shrunk as from a wilderness, in which
 
 CONCEALMENT, 103 
 
 he should find no resting-place ; and, from 
 the scenes immediately around him, his 
 desponding imagination, and altered feel- 
 ings, could only derive ideas of horror or 
 deeper melancholy. Thus, the before so 
 oft admired gentle undulations of the 
 beautiful Lake, now presented only, to 
 his distempered mind, the agitations of 
 delusive hope, playing on the surface, and 
 concealing death and destruction beneath. 
 From the sublime rocks and cavities, 
 though tinged vs^ith the bright rays of 
 summer sun, the bold and majestic forms 
 of which he had so frequently spent hours 
 in admiring, he now, shuddering, turned ; 
 for, to his gloomy vision, the frowning 
 crags seemed suspended by some invisi- 
 ble relentless hand, only to crush the un- 
 wary passenger below. 
 
 How truly did his heart beat, at this 
 time, responsive to Pope's impressive 
 numbers, where he says — 
 
 ** Black melancholy sits, and round her throws 
 A death-like silence, and a dread repose; 
 F 4
 
 104 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Her gloomy presence saddens all tlie scene. 
 Shades ev'ry flowV, and darkens ev'ry green. 
 Deepens the murmur of the falling floods, 
 And sheds a browner horror on the woods.'^ 
 
 In short, his heart was seared by grief, 
 his ideas had been bewildered by mys- 
 tery, and unsatisfactory conjectures ; the 
 excitations of a violent passion had been 
 suddenly cut off by the stern hand of 
 death ; and the cold tomb now enclosed 
 the only woman he had ever loved. But 
 what was more than all bitter to his 
 wounded spirit, he dared not encounter 
 the scrutiny which conscience incessantly 
 obtruded on his attention. In the re- 
 cesses of his bosom, at the bar of that 
 impartial judge and ever restless moni- 
 tor, Byngham stood convicted of views 
 and wishes, which, though scarcely ever 
 before acknowledged, even to his own 
 mind, now rose to add self-reproach to 
 his affliction. 
 
 No wonder, then, vv^hen all within wai 
 so much changed, that external objects 
 lost their power to please, and that Na-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 105 
 
 ture's gayest livery should to him wear a 
 sombre and awful cast. 
 
 Happily, his little companions some- 
 times succeeded in drawing him, for a 
 few moments, from the indulgence of 
 his sorrow. The grief of these unfortu- 
 nate children for the loss of their mother 
 had been as great as could be expected 
 from their age ; and, even at this early 
 period, seemed to give some indication 
 of their respective characters. When 
 removed from the bed on which their 
 mother had just expired, they had been 
 told by Margaret, that their mamma was 
 very ill ; but that, if they were good, and 
 made no noise to wake her, she would 
 soon be well. 
 
 Shortly after, Frederick, having watch- 
 ed his opportunity, was again found by 
 the bed-side ; and, when they would have 
 taken him away, he earnestly promised 
 not to stir, or speak a word, if they 
 would but let him wait till his dear 
 mamma should open her eyes : and force 
 f5
 
 106 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 alone could remove him. The door was 
 then secured ; and the repeated endea- 
 vours of the children to see their mother 
 defeated. 
 
 Mrs. Price was sent for to take them 
 to her cottage, during the preparations 
 for the funeral. This poor woman was 
 herself sincerely grieved at the untimely 
 death (as she called it) of the lovely and 
 good young creature, — to whose bene- 
 volence she had been largely indebted ; 
 and she felt a melancholy gratification in 
 soothing the orphan children. 
 
 On delivering them to her care, Mar- 
 garet whispered — ^^ Poor dears ! they 
 think my mistress asleep, instead of be- 
 ing quite gone.'''' 
 
 Frederick caught the sentence, and 
 loudly vociferated, he would go to his 
 mamma, wherever she was gone ; and 
 could only be pacified by Mr. Byngham's 
 promises that she would come back. 
 The orphans were then taken for ever 
 from the humble roof under which their
 
 CONCEALMENT. 107 
 
 reason had began to dawn. From that 
 time, till Mr. Byngham came for them to 
 join in the mournful ceremony of accom- 
 panying the remains of their parent to 
 the grave, no hour had elapsed unmarked 
 by Frederick's tears for her continued 
 absence ; the tender heart of Mrs. Price 
 not havino' couraoe to reveal the sad 
 truth. On Byngham, then, devolved the 
 painful task of explaining to them that 
 they would never again see their beloved 
 mother. 
 
 Julia wept loudly and bitterly ; till, the 
 violence of her feelings being exhausted, 
 new and surprising objects arose to divert 
 her grief, and call forth all her power of 
 observation. But in Frederick's afflic- 
 tion there appeared a sensibility and 
 seriousness beyond his years ; while some- 
 thing like indignation and sullen resent- 
 ment seemed to mingle with his more 
 painful feelings, as, with a bursting 
 heart, streaming eyes, and quivering lip, 
 he said to Mr. Byngham — ^' Margaret and
 
 108 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 you, then, told me a fib : she first said 
 my mamma was asleep — then gone — 
 and you promised she would come back : 
 but now you tell me she is dead, and must 
 be put in the ground like little Fanny 
 Price." 
 
 Here he cried as if his heart would 
 break. Julia joined in his lamentations ; 
 till Mr. Byngham, oppressed by the ex- 
 cess of his emotions, had been obliged to 
 tear himself away from the affecting ob- 
 jects who were already so dear to him. 
 
 In the same glocmy, afflicted state of 
 mind lately described, Byngham reached 
 N — , on his way to town ; when, to his 
 inexpressible surprise, as he alighted at 
 the inn, he was suddenly accosted by his 
 respected friend, Mr. Dermont, — who, 
 since his return from the Continent, had 
 been on a visit to some of his relations 
 in the North, and was then returning to 
 London. 
 
 All that Mr. Byngham had undergone 
 of mental distress and bodily exertion,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 109 
 
 during the last ten days, had produced 
 so visible and melancholy an alteration in 
 his person, that Mr. Dermont could 
 scarcely believe it was the same young 
 man with whom he had parted a few 
 years before. Still the cherished fea- 
 tures of his pupil were too strongly en- 
 graven on his friendly heart to admit of 
 doubt, and he addressed him by his name. 
 Byngham, who was assisting the chil- 
 dren from the carriage, started at the 
 sound of a voice he had ever so much 
 respected ; and, hurrying with Mr. Der- 
 mont into a private room, convulsively 
 wringing the hand of his friend, threw 
 himself into a chair, and burst into a 
 violent flood of tears, — the first mournful 
 relief of the kind which he had expe- 
 rienced since the death of Mrs. Lawrence. 
 From the violence and continuance of 
 this paroxysm of sorrow, his considerate 
 friend judged it was a relief nature long 
 had needed ; and, though much surprised, 
 he was careful not to interrupt her ope-
 
 1 10 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 rations ; but, taking the children to the 
 window, endeavoured to check the grief 
 just rising to their eyes also. A short 
 time, however, saw all their cares hushed 
 and forgotten ; and Byngham finding 
 himself alone with his early instructor, 
 his heart gladly unfolded itself at the soli- 
 citation of friendship. 
 
 No selfish reserve drew contracted li- 
 mits round this confidence. Humbled 
 and depressed, the self-accusing Byng- 
 ham gave, with the unvarnished detail of 
 his late extraordinary adventures, the 
 avowal of the errors of his heart, and the 
 mistakes of his judgment ; and received, 
 from this messenger of peace, — this able 
 and kind adviser,^ — all the consolation his 
 affliction could admit of. The uniform 
 integrity and unsullied purity of Mr. 
 Dermont's morals, well entitled him to 
 mix firm, but salutary, reproof with con- 
 solatory suggestions. Thus, while he 
 kindly sought to reconcile Byngham to 
 himself, by representing that some of the
 
 CONCEALMENT. HI 
 
 errors he so bitterly lamented were invo- 
 luntary, he censured, with dignified 
 warmth, that laxity of morals, and total 
 want of self-command, which had led him 
 into situations where the preservation of 
 his virtue had wholly depended on that 
 of another, and on circumstances over 
 which he had no control. 
 
 *^ Henceforward, my dear young friend, 
 (he continued,) recollect the peculiarity 
 of your situation. I lament with you the 
 ill-assorted tie that binds you ; but that 
 engagement is sacred, and you must sub- 
 mit. You have escaped from actual 
 guilt, and consequent misery, far more 
 insupportable than what you now expe- 
 rience. Be thankful for your deliverance, 
 and never again expose your virtue to 
 like temptation." 
 
 Byngham declared himself secure from 
 future trials of a similar nature ; and, 
 finding his mind relieved and comforted 
 by this friendly intercourse, they spent 
 several hours, dwelling on the subjects
 
 1 12 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 most interesting to Byngham, who un- 
 willingly delayed examining the contents 
 of the papers and casket till the following 
 day. 
 
 Uncertain if they might not farther 
 distress the but too muchharrassed mind 
 of his friend, Mr. Dermont refused to see 
 them till the next morning; and they 
 separated for the night, — which was 
 passed by Byngham in more sleep and 
 tranquillity than he had lately known. 
 
 It is almost needless to say, Mr. Der- 
 mont withdrew with all the gratified 
 feelings of one who has been of use to a 
 fellow-creature ; and, if his sleep was 
 somewhat disturbed, his mind was ac- 
 tively and agreeably employed in plan- 
 ning schemes for the future comfort of the 
 friend he had met at such a critical 
 moment. 
 
 And never was any man better calcu- 
 lated to administer to a diseased mind, 
 to recal the wandering sentiments of vir- 
 tue, and speak peace to the wounded
 
 CONCEALMENT. 113 
 
 spirit, than Mr. Derraont. He was, in- 
 deed, nobly and variously endowed. 
 His mind, quick and comprehensive, 
 possessed the advantages of early culture ; 
 and was accustomed from his youth to 
 habits of deep research, and the most 
 patient investigation. Of elegant lite- 
 rature, he was also a great admirer, — for 
 philosophy had not produced in him 
 either pride or coldness ; and, if it some- 
 times repressed the warmth of his ima- 
 gination, it gave a stronger direction to 
 its powers, and more correctly displayed 
 his taste and getiius. 
 
 He was by profession a clergyman; 
 and, both from situation and principle, 
 supported the doctrines of the established 
 church. His piety was fervent and ra- 
 tional, but not obtrusive : no affected 
 singularities marked his conduct, no ri- 
 gid observance of forms and ceremonies, 
 no acrimonious contention in support of 
 opinions, attracted the notice of the pub- 
 lic eye, or sought for admiration. His
 
 1 14 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 religion was seated in the heart ; it was 
 there he cherished its secret influence, 
 and felt its sovereign power. He had a 
 sincere love for truth, and ardently endea- 
 voured to propagate it by strength of 
 argument, mildness of persuasion, and 
 the force of example. Averse to reli- 
 gious controversy, as it tended to multi- 
 ply doubts, and to excite uncharitable 
 contention, he treated with candour and 
 forbearance the opinions of those who 
 differed from him. 
 
 With a mind thus regulated, w orldly 
 concerns gave Mr. Dermont no immo- 
 derate share of anxiety. In his early 
 years he possessed a bare competency; 
 but, having few artificial wants, being 
 frugal, though not mean, he submitted, 
 almost without an effort, to those priva- 
 tions which a scanty income sometimes 
 imposed upon him. As life advanced, 
 his abilities better known, and his excel- 
 lent disposition justly appreciated, he 
 was placed in a situation of considerable
 
 CONCEALMENT. 115 
 
 afflfaence : here, however, moderation and 
 self-government, a love of independance, 
 and a correct estimation of the real value 
 of money, secured him from the tempta- 
 tions and incumbrances of useless ex- 
 pense and ostentatious luxury ; and ena- 
 bled him to employ his annual savings in 
 administering to the wants and innocent 
 gratifications of his family and friends, 
 and in acts of private charity. 
 
 His heart had been early given with 
 the full sanction of his judgment : but the 
 opposing prudence of his friends prevent- 
 ed the completion of his wishes till rather 
 a late period of his life ; and, when those 
 wishes were attained, they did not bring 
 all that increase of happiness which he 
 had, for nearly twenty years, so anxiously 
 anticipated. 
 
 On his beloved Emma '' hope deferred" 
 had produced all its usual baneful effects. 
 Not her affection, nor the high veneration 
 in which she held the character of Mr.
 
 116 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Dermont, had been worn out ; but her 
 patience, and the warmth of early love. 
 With her bloom, health, and youthful 
 spirits, had disappeared much also of 
 the former sweetness of her temper, and 
 many of those indescribable charms of 
 disposition which had rivetted the best 
 affections of her lover. 
 
 But Mr. Dermont had too correct a 
 knowledge of human nature to be sur- 
 prised at these effects ; and his own heart 
 was too generous to resent, or even to 
 notice, an alteration arising from such 
 natural causes : though, on his part, the 
 preference of his youth, so far from being 
 chilled or diminished, had increased with 
 every year ; and, with almost youthful 
 love, he recalled to his remembrance the 
 day on which he had solemnly vowed to 
 prove the sincerity of his professions. 
 
 Gratitude, also, strongly pleaded, nor 
 pleaded in vain, in behalf of a woman, 
 who, during so many years, had built
 
 CONCEALMENT. IIT 
 
 her every hope on him ; declining, from 
 faithful affection, several opportunities of 
 forming very desirable connexions. 
 
 Emma, conscious of the devastations 
 anxiety and disappointment had made on 
 her attractions, as well as on her health, 
 justly appreciated the attachment of her 
 husband, and resolved to exert her en- 
 deavours to deserve and requite his 
 generous regard. But the energetic 
 spring of action in her mind, never re- 
 markably strong, w^as now much weak- 
 ened, and a peevishness of temper in 
 some degree succeeded, — for which, she 
 thouo-ht confirmed ill-health a sufficient 
 excuse. This excuse her indulgent part- 
 ner willingly admitted; and, during the 
 remainder of her life, never once ex- 
 pressed disappointment or displeasure, 
 although slight feelings of vexation occa- 
 sionally surprised and troubled him, be- 
 fore he had time to check the risino;s of 
 discontent and ill-humour, or to reflect 
 
 1
 
 118 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 that such moments too frequently occur 
 to the happiest of mankind. 
 
 For the benefit of Mrs. Dermont's 
 health, and the amusement of her mind, 
 they, shortly after their marriage, went 
 abroad, and spent several years on the 
 Continent, visiting many of the capitals 
 of Europe ; when, Mrs. Dermont expect- 
 ing to become a mother, they returned to 
 England, in the north of which her mo- 
 ther resided, and there Mr. Dermont 
 forgot all his secret vexations and disap- 
 pointments, as he pressed his infant girl 
 to his bosom. At this joyful event, all 
 the happiness which Mrs. Dermont had 
 dreamed of in youth seemed to be 
 realized, and every ideal cause of discon- 
 tent to vanish for ever. Peevishness, 
 dejection, and a nameless train of nervous 
 feelings, yielded all at once to a " Pa- 
 rent's transport and a parent's care." 
 Business called Mr. Dermont to London; 
 but it was not till Emma had attained
 
 CONCEALMENT. 119 
 
 her third month, that either he or his 
 wife thought he might venture a tempo- 
 rary absence. 
 
 All the unfortunate occurrences in the 
 family of Mr. Byngham had, from time 
 to time, been circumstantially commu- 
 nicated to Mr. Dermont ; and much did 
 he lament the infatuation of his old 
 friend, who had sacrificed, to the undue 
 influence of a designing woman, the hap- 
 piness, and perhaps the virtue, of his son. 
 
 Unfortunately, Mr. Dermont did not 
 return to England till the breach between 
 young Byngham and his wife had become 
 irreconcilable ; or he might, perhaps, 
 have prevented a step, which his strict 
 and moral principles taught him wholly 
 to condemn. 
 
 The only good which now seemed in 
 his power, was to watch over a young 
 man, who, he well knew, deserved his 
 warmest regard. His own domestic 
 concerns had not so wholly engrossed his 
 mind, as to exclude reflection on the
 
 120 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 dangerous predicament in which errors 
 on both sides had placed Mr. and Mrs. 
 Byngham ; and part of his business in 
 town was to seek out the former, from 
 whom he had not heard for some months, 
 and had not seen since his return to Eng- 
 land. The present meeting, therefore, 
 though clouded with very distressing- 
 circumstances, was as seasonable as un- 
 expected.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 121 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 « It needs must happen, that the passion of grief should 
 often swell to such a size, as to burst the heart that con- 
 tains it, if Time did not make circumstances less strong and 
 lively, so that reason should become a more equal match for 
 the passion." addison. 
 
 With returning day, Byngham felt a 
 return of his yet recent affliction, and he 
 left his bed agitated and iinrefreshed. 
 Still, however, the well -judging friend of 
 his early years was near him, and he, 
 consequently, no longer experienced that 
 painful sense of standing alone in the 
 w^orld, surrounded only by his griefs ; a 
 sensation which had lately been so fami- 
 liar to him. 
 
 But now the gloomy spell was broken : 
 Mr. Dermont knew the full extent of his 
 errors, his sorrows, and misfortunes ; and 
 past experience told him, he might hope 
 much from his judgment, penetration, 
 and indulgence. 
 
 Q
 
 122 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 With the casket and papers in his 
 hand, to which his heart attached much 
 importance, he, at an early hour, entered 
 the' chamber of his friend, who readily 
 granted him all his attention. On open- 
 ing the casket, the first thing they saw- 
 was a paper in the form of an inventory, 
 fastened to the inside of the lid, indi- 
 cating the following articles as the con- 
 tents : 
 
 " Miniature of the father of Frederick 
 and Julia. 
 
 ^' A diamond cross. 
 
 *'Half a gold and purple enamelled 
 heart. 
 
 '^ Letters from my mother. 
 
 " The last letter I ever received 
 from " 
 
 This list promised much gratification 
 to the eager curiosity of Byngham : but, 
 alas ! those hopes were quickly disap- 
 pointed; for, on carefully pursuing the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 12^ 
 
 examination, neither the miniature or 
 cross could be found. The letters, too, 
 from which they naturally expected to 
 derive considerable information, were 
 short and mysterious. Those from the 
 mother of Mrs. Lawrence were as follows : 
 
 ''my dear JULIA, 
 
 ''Do not be uneasy on my account : I 
 am much better than I was ; and our 
 enemies appear to be satisfied with se- 
 parating us, and seem to intend me no 
 farther injui'y. May the God of heaven 
 give you fortitude to support these severe 
 .trials, and your wretched mother the 
 happiness to embrace you once more. 
 
 Julia F— . 
 
 " I know not if this will ever reach you; 
 adieu! my dearest child," 
 
 Another contained these words : 
 
 " Julia ! they tell me I shall not see 
 you again ; and I feel it is so. A long 
 and wearisome journey hag exhausted the 
 g2
 
 124 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 little strength grief for your misfortunes 
 had left me. My heart is broken : but T 
 shall die resigned, since in this world, I 
 am now convinced, 1 should never more 
 have beheld you. No : I am here a pri- 
 soner for life ; but, thank heaven ! human 
 tyranny extends not beyond the grave. 
 The term of my captivity will be short ; 
 of which truth, a feeble body, sinking un- 
 der the effects of disease and sorrow 
 gives me a very strong assurance. I shall 
 expire in one continued act of supplica- 
 tion to the Almighty for you : may I be 
 at length successful ! may mercy and 
 protection be granted to the earnest in- 
 tercession of my purified soul ! Fare- 
 well, my beloved child ! 1 feel my strength 
 declining fast. If 1 recover, I will de- 
 stroy this, and write what will be less 
 painful to you : but, if this is, indeed, my 
 last letter, I have a solemn promise from 
 my compassionate gaoler, that it shall be 
 delivered faithfully into your hand. Thus» 
 then, I feel the melancholy assurance,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 125" 
 
 that you will receive the last blessing of 
 a mother, who, in losing the hope of con- 
 tributing to your happiness, and watching 
 over your safety, has lost every wish for 
 life ; and, with submission and confidence, 
 resigns you to the protection of heaven. 
 
 " 1 have just learnt that your persecu- 
 tor relents, and that you may still be 
 happy. My prayers are then heard at 
 last ; and I shall die satisfied. 
 
 ^'Tell the son of our enemy, that I did 
 not refuse to include him in the blessing 
 you received from 
 
 Your affectionate mother, 
 
 Julia F— " 
 
 The third letter found in the casket 
 contained only these few words, bearing 
 all the marks of having been written in 
 great agitation, and in a foreign hand : 
 
 " Adieu ! dearest Julia. Not only your 
 liberty, but your life, depends on my re- 
 linquishing you for ever. My father is 
 g3
 
 126 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 deaf to all my entreaties and tears, and 
 has vowed your destruction, if, for a day 
 longer, I oppose his wishes. I know his 
 power, and 1 fear his relentless nature : I 
 must obey. Not for myself I fear, but 
 for you. He has solemnly sworn that 
 you shall be restored to liberty, and that 
 every step shall be taken for your perma« 
 nent comfort, the moment I have given 
 my consent to the arrangements he has 
 formed. I hasten, then, with all the ago- 
 nies of love and despair, to free you from 
 the horrors of your present confinement. 
 Make good your escape the moment you 
 have the power to do it ; and may you 
 enjoy, if possible, the peace and happiness 
 which have for ever fled the bosom of 
 your wretched F — " 
 
 " I will watch over the comfort of your 
 mother. She will not experience any more 
 uneasiness from my family ; but must 
 continue in her present retirement. I will 
 take care to inform her of your safety. 
 Once more adieu."
 
 CONCEALMENT. 127 
 
 The unsatisfactory result of the exa- 
 mination of this casket, from which so 
 much had been anticipated, overwhelmed 
 Byngham with new and painful surprise. 
 From these letters he and his friend turn- 
 ed to various other papers ; but they 
 were only stock-receipts, memorandums, 
 and letters, chiefly on business, or of 
 friendly inquiry from Capt. Howard, who, 
 it appeared, was by this time in India 
 with his regiment ; and had given direc- 
 tions to Mrs. I^wrence to apply to his 
 agent and friend, Mr. Ormond, of West- 
 minster, in all matters of business or 
 exigency of any kind that might arise 
 during his absence. 
 
 The most vexatious perplexity was 
 occasioned by the absence of the minia- 
 ture and cross, as Mr. Byngham was not 
 conscious that the casket, which of itself 
 was of considerable value, had been for a 
 moment out of his possession, since the 
 death of its owner. It however imme- 
 diately occurred to Mr. Dermont, that, 
 g4
 
 128 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 as one at least of the articles missing was 
 of value, it had perhaps been stolen in 
 the confusion naturally excited by Mrs. 
 Lawrence's death ; and that, by a legal 
 investigation, the property might be re- 
 covered. It was therefore settled, that, 
 without delay, they should return to 
 Keswick, and obtain the aid of the ma- 
 gistrate of the place for that purpose. 
 Leaving therefore the children to the care 
 of the mistress of the house, they were 
 departing, when Frederick, laying hold 
 of Mr. Byngham's coat, looked up in his 
 face with anxious scrutiny, saying — '^And 
 will you indeed soon come back, my dear 
 papa?" 
 
 The distrustful manner and peculiar 
 emphasis with which these few words 
 were uttered, struck forcibly on the re- 
 collection of Mr. Byngham, who, kissing 
 him and Julia, repeated several times, 
 that he would, if possible, be at breakfast 
 with them the following morning ; "but," 
 added he, addressing the landlady, " if
 
 CONCEALMENT. 129 
 
 we are unavoidably detained, I beg you 
 will send some trusty person with these 
 children to Keswick." 
 
 Julia, and even Frederick, appeared 
 satisfied with this arrangement, and the 
 gentlemen departed. 
 
 During the drive, the whole melan- 
 choly subject was again fully discussed ; 
 the casket carefully re-examined, lest any 
 secret drawer should have escaped obser- 
 vation, and the letters reperused ; but 
 nothing new transpired, and they arrived 
 at the end of their journey, without be- 
 ing able to satisfy, in any degree, their 
 former doubts and conjectures. 
 
 It is unnecessary to trouble the reader 
 with a detail of the various means and 
 indefatigable exertions employed to ob- 
 tain information respecting the objects 
 of their inquiry. Suffice it to say, that 
 all proved ineffectual ; and that, at a ju- 
 dicial examination of Margaret, »he, with 
 Dame Price, and all who could possibly 
 be suspected, had professed total igno- 
 g5
 
 ISO CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ranee in the business; and, nothing ap- 
 pearing to warrant further measures 
 against them, or, indeed, to confirm sus- 
 picion, the friends of Mrs. Lawrence 
 were compelled to relinquish the inves- 
 tigation. 
 
 They then proceeded to Mr. Sharply, 
 steward to Major Howard, in quest of 
 information, that might throw some light 
 on Mrs. Lawrence's former situation and 
 connexions : but here disappointment 
 again met their inquiries. Sharply, a 
 shrewd, unfeeling man, declared he knew 
 very little of Mrs. Lawrence, as the cap- 
 tain had always been very sly in the bu- 
 siness ; but, from that little, he could not 
 think very highly of her character : add- 
 ing, with a supercilious bow to Mr. 
 Byngham, that he was much surprised 
 that a gentleman, who, he understood, 
 had lately enjoyed so much of her confi- 
 dence, should come to question him about 
 her. 
 
 Anger and resentment flushed the face
 
 CONCEALMENT. l3l 
 
 of Mr. Byngham, and he was about to 
 reply with warmth, when Mr. Dermont 
 prevented him, by hastily saying, they 
 would wait on Major Howard in town ; 
 and drew his friend away. 
 
 Nothing now remained to be done that 
 offered any prospect of gratifying their 
 anxious curiosity, and Byngham returned 
 to N — , vexed and disappointed. In 
 spite of his repeated endeavours to im- 
 press on Mr. Dermont's mind the con- 
 viction so deeply engraven on his own, 
 by the dying assurance of his unfortunate 
 friend,— that the orphan twins of his 
 adoption w^ere not of illegitimate birth ; 
 he saw, with concern, that the mysteri- 
 ous account he had alone been able to 
 give of Mrs. Lawrence, had excited 
 strong doubts of the fact, which were 
 strengthened by the few papers that had 
 been found. 
 
 Suspicion was by no means a feature 
 in Mr. Dermont's character ; but the up- 
 right straight-forward tenour of his own
 
 132 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 mind J prevented his following his ardent 
 and credulous young friend through the 
 intricate and romantic mazes of conjec- 
 ture in which he often bewildered him- 
 self; and he ventured gently to remark, 
 that, in neither of her mother's letters, or 
 in that of the children's father, did the 
 words husband or wife once occur. This 
 was a truth Byngham could not contro- 
 vert ; and he acknowledged, that he did 
 not recollect Mrs. Lawrence's ever having 
 applied the terms to herself, or to the fa- 
 ther of the children. 
 
 Yet he still protested, that, enveloped 
 as every circumstance was in mystery, 
 and, to common observers, liable to just 
 suspicions, he should ever place the most 
 implicit faith in the assurance of their 
 mother, — that their birth was not dis- 
 graceful. Mr. Dermont also noticed the 
 singular circumstance of there being nei- 
 ther date, signature, nor post mark, to any 
 of the letters. 
 
 ;V In fine, Byngham," he said, at length,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 133 
 
 "I will not attempt to lead your judg- 
 ment and opinion through this strange 
 business ; in which systematic, myste- 
 rious concealment, and various inconsis- 
 tencies meet us at every turn ; nor will I 
 profess to believe all that, every thing 
 considered, perhaps you are justified in 
 believing : but, respecting the line of con- 
 duct you are bound to pursue, I have no 
 hesitation ; nor shall we diifer on this im- 
 portant part of the subject. 
 
 '^ From the unfortunate woman you so 
 sensibly regret, let her errors be what 
 they may, you have accepted a sacred 
 trust, which every consideration of honour 
 and humanity call upon you to discharge 
 with conscientious fidehty. Ten thou- 
 sand pounds, it seems, are in the public 
 funds ; thus you will not be much taxed 
 in a pecuniary way. And now, as to the 
 proper disposal of these poor children : 
 you shall, at least for some time, trust 
 them to my care. I am now an idle 
 man, and should like much to exercise
 
 134 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 myself a little at my old trade, when I am 
 not in attendance in my nursery. Fre- 
 derick and I shall soon be good friends ; 
 and Julia, besides learning to nurse my 
 litde Emma, shall follow the steps of our 
 dear Lady Montrevor, whom it is the 
 pride of my heart to have had for my 
 pupil." 
 
 Thus did this inestimable friend confer 
 tlie greatest obligation in the most deli- 
 cate and noble-minded way. His offer 
 was accepted with gratitude, and they all 
 proceeded together to London; Byng- 
 ham's mind acquiring the calm of resig- 
 nation in the society of the friend he 
 prized more than ever; and by whose 
 kind attentions, and well-timed admoni- 
 tions, much of the severity of his afflic- 
 tion was softened. 
 
 Byngham certainly experienced from 
 this source a great alleviation of his sor- 
 rows ; but time and natural causes also 
 contributed to promote his tranquillity. 
 An unhappy conflict of passion, doubt,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 135 
 
 and anxiety, had for some time left him 
 no repose ; and, although the tumuHooiis 
 feelings were succeeded by excessive 
 grief for the death of Mrs. Lawrence, yet 
 hope and suspense were gone : though 
 much afflicted, he ceased to be distracted 
 by contending emotions, was enabled to 
 collect the energies of his mind, and to 
 receive, from its innate strength and vir- 
 tue, the benefit of those remedies which 
 time and reflection never fail to brino-. 
 Before they finally quitted Keswick, 
 Byngham had paid a melancholy visit to 
 the hallowed spot where the remains of 
 his lamented friend were deposited. 
 
 As he traced in his mind the mournful 
 particulars of her singular and unhappy 
 fate, all the sources of his grief were re- 
 opened. His heart was wrung anew by 
 love, remorse, despair, and regret ; while 
 much bitterness was added to his feelings 
 by the painful conviction, that, in spite 
 of all he could urge, the candid, chari-
 
 136 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 table, and generous Mr. Dermont, enter- 
 tained suspicions highly injurious to her. 
 
 Still Bynghani's soul affectionately 
 clung to the solemn assurance she had 
 given him, in the awful hour of her disso- 
 lution; and, with melancholy satisfaction, 
 he felt justified, notwithstanding all ap- 
 pearances, in believing her every way 
 worthy the senticiCnts she had inspired, 
 and the tender veneration with which he 
 mourned her loss. 
 
 The first concern of Byngham and 
 Mr. Dermont, on arriving in London, 
 was to see Major Howard ; their next, to 
 call on Mr. Ormond : but neither visit 
 w^as attended with any satisfactory re- 
 sult. The former was even ignorant that 
 such a person as Mrs. Lawrence had ever 
 lived on his estate, — which, he said, was 
 solely managed by Sharply^ and his son 
 Capt. Howard ; and he expressed great 
 surprise and anger when acquainted with 
 the circumstance.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 137 
 
 From Mr. Ormond they only learnt, 
 that he had received particular directions 
 to attend, with the greatest punctuality, 
 to any application from Mrs. Lawrence ; 
 and to give her every possible assistance 
 and accommodation in the way of busi- 
 ness, or on any occasion upon which she 
 might apply to him. He also told them 
 that Capt. Howard was likely to continue 
 in India ; but assured them, he would 
 carefully forward any packet that they 
 might wish to transmit thither. 
 
 One hope now only remained to Byng- 
 ham ; and he lost no time in writing to 
 Capt. Howard, giving an account of 
 Mrs. Lawrence's death, with all the de- 
 tails necessary ; requesting that he would 
 favour him, as guardian and trustee to 
 the children, and their mother's friend, 
 with every particular he knew relative to 
 her family and connections. 
 
 Having dispatched this packet, and 
 omitted nothing that could benefit the 
 interesting little orphans he had adopted,
 
 138 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and gratify his own anxious curiosity, he 
 resolved to wait with patience, and sup- 
 press all useless conjectures, till he should 
 receive intelligence from India. 
 
 Having spent some days in town with 
 Mr. Dermont, Byngham, accompanied 
 by his son, Frederick, and Julia, repaired 
 to Austenbury ; which, as it was within 
 an easy distance of the metropolis, per- 
 mitted Mr. Dermont to join him, when 
 the business, which brought him to Lon- 
 don, allowed his absence. 
 
 This business was to make inquiries 
 respecting a small estate to be sold in 
 Gloucestershire, and which, he thought, 
 would suit him. Some difficulty, how- 
 ever, arising in making out the title, Mr. 
 Byngham recollected there was at this 
 time a small estate, that might be easily 
 purchased, in the neighbourhood of 
 Arlingham, and earnestly persuaded Mr. 
 Dermont to give it his attention ; repre- 
 senting, that the mild air of Devonshire 
 was, of all others, most suited to the health
 
 CONCEALMENT. 139 
 
 of Mrs. Dermont, who had been so much 
 better while in Italy. His friend, on this 
 suggestion, wilUngly reUnquished all 
 thoughts of Gloucestershire; acknow- 
 ledging that, if it met with his wife's 
 approbation, he should like to set himself 
 down, for the remainder of his life, near 
 his amiable friend Lady Montrevor. 
 
 Having written to inform Mrs. Der- 
 mont of this new plan, he immediately 
 set oiF for Devonshire ; whither Byngham 
 declined accompanying him, — not yet 
 feeling equal to mix with the society he 
 would meet at Arlingham. To his sis- 
 ter, who always possessed his unreserved 
 confidence, he sent a large packet ; in 
 which he gave her many affecting details 
 of his late afflictions and embarrassments, 
 referring her to their mutual friend for 
 further particulars. 
 
 Byngham was now left to the uninter- 
 rupted indulgence of his own reflections ; 
 but the first anguish of his mind had 
 subsided, leaving only a tender melan-
 
 140 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 choly sense of the late events. The juve- 
 nile trio which surrounded him alter- 
 nately diverted and added to his painful 
 feelings. 
 
 Of Edward, Byngham's paternal affec- 
 tion had formed the fairest hopes, and he 
 became, as well as the twins, daily more 
 dear to him : while the recollection of 
 their respective mothers was fast fading 
 from their youthful memories. Edward 
 Byngham had comparatively suffered but 
 little in the loss of his mother's attention : 
 but to Frederick and Julia it was heavy 
 indeed ; and they retained their grief as 
 long as was compatible with their tender 
 years. 
 
 The sprightly Julia's remembrance of 
 her mother was at last quite lost in de- 
 light at the toys brought for her amuse- 
 ment; and even the more reflecting 
 Frederick neai'ly forgot his sorrow in the 
 new pleasure of finding in Edward a 
 good-humoured playmate. Mr. Dermont 
 soon returned, having completed the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 141 
 
 purchase in question, and been presented 
 by Lord Montrevor, at the soHcitation of 
 his wife, to the living of the parish in 
 which his new property was situated, — - 
 the late incumbent having died a few 
 months before. Our worthy clergyman 
 wap much gratified by the manner in 
 which this benefice had been conferred 
 upon him, and anticipated with pleasure 
 the agreeable surprise of Mrs. Dermont. 
 From Lady Montrevor he brought the 
 followino: letter to her brother : 
 
 '' Believe me, 1 have sympathized most 
 sincerely in your late uneasiness ; but I 
 hope you are fast recovering from the 
 shock you sustained in Cumberland. In 
 truth, my dear brother, I thought you had 
 an ample share of misfortunes before, 
 without going so far in search of more. 
 But pardon me, this is not meant as a 
 reproach ; my heart, I assure you, has 
 been much pained by your account of the
 
 142 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 sudden death of Mrs. Lawrence. In 
 your conduct towards her, and benevo- 
 lent intentions towards her children, I 
 read the generous sensibility and warm 
 enthusiasm of my brother ; while I thank 
 the all-wise Disposer of events, who, by 
 means he knows best how to choose, has 
 not only preserved your integrity, but 
 placed within your reach the farther exer- 
 cise of benevolence. 
 
 '' I long to see your poor little pro- 
 teges, w4iom I already feel to know from 
 Mr. Dermont's description ; and I be- 
 speak Julia as a friend for my Caroline. 
 Lord Montrevor (who knows only that 
 the children are those of a deceased 
 friend of your's,) willingly subscribes to 
 my wishes, and unites with me in beg- 
 ging you will not delay bringing your 
 increased family. I am all impatience to 
 see you ; and have a plan in agitation, by 
 which I hope to keep you, as well as our 
 good friend Mr. Dermont, among us. 
 
 " How fortunate, I now think, it was
 
 CONCEALMENT. 143 
 
 that young Piercy declined the living of 
 B — : indeed, I always thought that his 
 captious temper would never suit Mon- 
 trevor, and that the cousins were better 
 asunder. 
 
 Our neighbourhood) I assure you, is 
 improving fast. Lord Ashmore says he 
 shall spend much more time at Brookdale 
 than formerly ; and the good old rector of 
 the adjoining parish is succeeded by Dr. 
 Thornton, who purchased the living of 
 Hammerton. Report says, Mrs. Thorn- 
 ton is to turn over a new leaf at the rec- 
 tory ; where quiet, happiness, and com- 
 petence, are to yield the place to a large 
 family, fashion, and opulence. 
 
 These changes will not be very mate- 
 rial to me ; but, if we can fix you and Mr. 
 Dermont as our neighbours, I shall be 
 indifferent to other arrangements. Make 
 haste then, my dear brother, and give us 
 the pleasure of seeing you. You know 
 not the comfort your society will be to 
 me, I hear, your Julia, though younger,
 
 144 " CONCEALMENT. 
 
 is taller than Caroline, whom, however, 
 you will find grown since you saw her. 
 She is happy in the hope of seeing Ed- 
 ward. I am glad you thought him look- 
 ing well : poor fellow ! his constitution is 
 rather delicate ; but I trust it will im- 
 prove with his age. Kiss him repeatedly 
 for us all ; and write soon to tell me you 
 will not disappoint the hopes of 
 
 Your affectionate sister, 
 
 C. MONTREVOR." 
 
 '^ And now, my dear Byngham," said 
 Mr. Dermont, when he had finished read- 
 ing the letter, '* I must explain to you 
 how active I have been, while you, a fine 
 healthy young fellow, have been moping 
 indolently here. Why, I have not only 
 set my own affairs in an admirable train, 
 but have nearly let this house and pre- 
 mises, and settled you, in a neat bachelor- 
 like residence near me ; where I can 
 w^atch your conduct, and keep you in 
 good order, while you, in return, spare
 
 CONCEALMENT. 145 
 
 my eyes, by playing chess or back-gam- 
 mon in the lono; evenino^s." He then 
 continued, — ** You know the house of 
 Mr. Hepvvorth, within half a mile of the 
 purchase I have just made." 
 
 " Yes ; Mayhill Cottage : half-way be- 
 tween that and Arlingham." 
 
 "Exactly: well, Mr. Hepworth's fa- 
 mily is growing up, and he wishes for a 
 larger house, nearer London. He eagerly 
 caught at a proposal I made, half in joke, 
 that you and he should exchange resi- 
 dences ; so if, as you say, you really con- 
 sider this place ill-suited to your plans, 
 and wish to let it, the opportunity is now 
 favourable." 
 
 Byngham repeated, that the size and 
 style of Austenbury were, indeed, be- 
 yond what his present situation re- 
 quired ; and that he should be glad to 
 get it off his hands for some years 
 After much conversation on the subject, 
 Byngham determined to go immediately 
 
 H
 
 146 
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 into Devonshire, and to complete tlie 
 arrangements his friends had begun for 
 him, if, on further consideration, he ap- 
 proved the plan.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 147 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ** We have slept together; 
 
 Rose at an instant; learn'd, play'd, eat together; 
 And whercso'er we went, like Juno's swan.*, 
 Stil! we went conpled and inseparable," 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 
 Mr. Dermont was much pleased with 
 the prospect of spending the remainder 
 of his Hfe so near Lady Montrevor, for 
 whom he. had from her infancy felt al- 
 most a parent's regard; and, when to 
 that was added the society of Mr. Byng- 
 ham, the probable benefit to his wife's 
 health, and even the consideration of fu- 
 ture advantage to his little Emma, he 
 thought lie should scarcely have a wish 
 ungratified. Trusting, then, that no im- 
 pediment might arise to the accomplish- 
 nient of these agreeable expectations, he 
 took leave of Austenbury, to impart to 
 his wife the rational enjoyments he thus 
 feelingly anticipated. 
 h2
 
 148 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Much of the satisfaction that at this 
 time glowed in the heart of this worthy 
 man, and shone in his benevolent counte- 
 nance, arose from the consciousness of 
 having been instrumental in restoring 
 Byngham to that composure and resig- 
 nation which, at their first meeting, he 
 appeared totally to have lost. 
 
 He now left him humbled, indeed, be- 
 neath the chastening hand of affliction, 
 and a sense of great indiscretion ; but 
 calm, though melancholy ; and disposed 
 to consider the late events as directed by 
 a beneficent as well as all-wise Power, to 
 whom he owed submission. 
 
 There is not, perhaps, a state more fa- 
 vorable to moral improvement, than that 
 in which affliction sometimes leaves the 
 mind of a virtuous young man. Awaken- 
 ed by disappointment from dreams of 
 unmixed happiness, he dismisses by de- 
 grees the delusive expectation in pursuit 
 of pleasures of more lasting worth, and 
 more practicable attainment.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 149 
 
 A few months sufficed to complete 
 Mr. Dermont's purchase, as well as Mr. 
 Byngham's change of residence ; and, 
 early in the ensuing summer, Lord and 
 Lady Montrevor congratulated themselves 
 on the acquisition of Mr. and Mrs. Der- 
 mont, and Mr. Byngham, to their imme- 
 diate society. 
 
 Many plans of education for Edward 
 Byngham had, at different times, been 
 discussed by his father and friends. 
 Lady Montrevor, urged by a sense of 
 delicate refinement and virtue, was appre- 
 hensive that the pure principles of Ed- 
 ward's mind would suffer by their expo- 
 sure to the acknowledged vices of a pub- 
 lic school; she therefore regarded with 
 partiality the advantages of private edu- 
 cation, overlooking the numerous objec- 
 tions to it in the desire of profiting by 
 the protection it afforded, and the inces- 
 sant vigilance of attention of which it was 
 capable. 
 
 These suggestions, the result of anxiety 
 h3
 
 150 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and imperfect information, had their full 
 weight with Mr. Byngham ; but they 
 were overruled by Mr. Dermont, who 
 justly observed and lamented, that the 
 different modes of education presented 
 only a choice of imperfections ; but tliat 
 his experience inclined him to prefer a 
 public school : not that he sought to ex- 
 cuse or palliate its vices, but to express 
 his conviction, that these vices were, per- 
 haps, not much greater in number or 
 degree than those of private seminaries, 
 and in their consequences were some- 
 times less pernicious, being seldom asso- 
 ciated with the radical defects of mean- 
 ness and hypocrisy. He adverted, also, 
 to the advantages which boys often 
 derive from the chastisements of their 
 faults and follies, in the unrestrained 
 observations and censures of a numerous 
 society, consisting for the time of their 
 equals. These arguments prevailed, and 
 a respectable preparatory school was se- 
 lected for Edward Byngham.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 151 
 
 The prepossessing appearance and en- 
 gaging manners of Julia, joined to her 
 early misfortunes, excited at first sight a 
 very lively interest in the feeling mind of 
 Lady Montrevor ; who, to the great satis- 
 faction of her brother, immediately made 
 the necessary arrangements for her per- 
 manent residence at Arlingham. 
 
 To this plan, however, there arose a 
 sudden objection, that at first threatened 
 wholly to obstruct it. When Frederick 
 understood that he was no longer to 
 inhabit the same house with his sister, 
 that she would not be the first object to 
 meet his waking eyes in the morning, 
 and the sound of her voice the last he 
 should hear before he fell asleep at night, 
 his grief was so uncommon and severe, 
 that his rest was destroyed, his spirits 
 fled, and his health actually became 
 affected. It was attempted by degrees 
 to accustom him to the desired separa- 
 tion, and he spent successive days with 
 his sister and Caroline in all the happiness 
 h4
 
 152 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 of his age ; but the moment his return to 
 what was called his home was mentioned, 
 his youthful brow became clouded, he 
 threw his arms round Julia's neck, and 
 all the pleasure of his heart was fled . 
 
 At these times Julia's tears flowed fast, 
 and she, too, would declare she would 
 not go to bed if Frederick left her : but 
 she soon yielded to the kind soothings of 
 Lady Montrevor; and, though her pillow 
 was moistened by her tears, yet she slept 
 soundly, and awoke happy at the thought 
 that night was over, and she should see 
 dear Fred before she had eaten her 
 breakfast. 
 
 At length, w hen Mr. Byngham's kind 
 solicitude for Frederick's comfort was on 
 the point of inducing him to forego his 
 plans, and he was concerting measures to 
 unite the twins, the ridicule of Edward 
 Byngham succeeded in reconciling Fre- 
 derick to the present arrangements. 
 
 ''Why, Frederick," said he, with 
 something of a contemptuous sneer.
 
 CONCEALMENT. J53 
 
 " you are worse than a girl, — worse than 
 Julia : look at me, I am going to school 
 quite alone, and I have never once cried 
 about it. Don't you think my aunt and 
 uncle Montrevor, and old Ursula, can take 
 care of your sister while you are away ? 
 You never will be a man." 
 
 '' Yes, but I will," answered Frederick 
 indignantly, but with some confusion, 
 '' and as soon as you ; and when I am a 
 man, I will still love my sister Julia dearly, 
 dearly." 
 
 ^'But I hope you will not cry then, if 
 you don't sleep in the same room with 
 her ;" said Edward. 
 
 Frederick ran hastily away, unable, 
 from grief and shame, to make any an- 
 swer. The next moment he met Mr. 
 Byngham; and, repressing with difficulty 
 the starting tear, he said, with great agi- 
 tation — '' My dear papa, it is best Julia 
 should live with dear Lady Montrevor ; 
 and I will never cry again when I bid her 
 good-bye." 
 
 h5 
 
 /'
 
 154 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Byngham had overheard the soQiewhat 
 severe lecture given by Edward ; and, 
 less pleased with the manner than the 
 effects of it, he affectionately kissed the 
 agitated child ; and, calling him a good 
 boy, pursued his walk. 
 
 From that day Frederick faithfully 
 kept his word ; and, though it was long 
 before he could quit his sister without 
 evident reluctance, he no longer shed 
 tears at the separation, but struggled to 
 appear as much a man as Edward. 
 
 With Mr. Dermont and his wife, Fre- 
 derick soon became a great favourite ; 
 and at Arlingham, where he was a daily 
 guest, he had as many friends as there 
 were inmates in the family. 
 
 Mr. Byngham had now the melancholy 
 satisfaction of feeling he had secured to 
 his adopted children every possible conw 
 fort and advantage ; and he earnestly 
 hoped no change would be necessary in 
 their situation for several years. For 
 himself, he was but too confident that all
 
 tJONCEALMENt. 1^ 
 
 the charms of Ufe, he had once pictured 
 in such glowing colours to his youthful 
 imagination, had for ever fled ; and that 
 his future happiness must chiefly arise 
 from the contemplation of the welfare of 
 the several objects of his tenderness. 
 
 Arlingham, the family seat of Lord 
 Montrevor, was situated in a most agree- 
 able part of the south-east of Devonshire, 
 and within a short distance of the coast, 
 — of which there was a delightful view 
 from the mansion, and various parts of 
 the extensive grounds. Adjoining one 
 side of the park was the small estate 
 lately bought by Mr. Byngham, called 
 Mayhill Cottage, which had, in a neces- 
 sitous moment, been dismembered from 
 the Arlingham property by the late Lord 
 Montrevor. This, though small, was 
 perhaps the most complete and beautiful 
 object in that part of the country. Wood, 
 water, an elevated but sheltered situa- 
 tion, which commanded a varied land- 
 scape of hill and valley, combined to
 
 156 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 adorn this pleasant spot ; from which a 
 gentle and highly-cultivated declivity led 
 down to the beach, where the eye might 
 gaze on the wide expanse of the English 
 Channel. 1^ 
 
 At the distance of little more than a 
 mile from Mayhill was the residence of 
 Mr. Dermont, possessing, also, great ad- 
 vantages from a most desirable situation 
 and picturesque scenery. Thus these 
 three families formed between themselves 
 a most interesting society, which would 
 have been all sufficient for them, had they 
 been destitute of other resources. But 
 this was by no means the case. 
 
 Within two miles of Arlingham was 
 Brookdale, the noble seat of the Earl of 
 Ashmore; and in another direction, dis- 
 tant only three miles from Lord Montre- 
 vor's, was the rectory of Hammerton. 
 
 Lord Ashmore was at this time rather 
 more than fifty, and had, a few years be- 
 fore, buried an amiable wife, who had 
 left him two children,— a son twelve,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 157 
 
 and a daughter five, years old. The earl 
 had been for many years deeply engaged 
 in politics ; but, having taken disgust at 
 some measures of the party to which he 
 had attached himself, he had withdrawn 
 entirely from public affairs ; resolving to 
 devote the remainder of his life to the im* 
 prove ment of his estate, and the enjoy- 
 ments the country afforded. 
 
 In his youth he had been the complete 
 courtier, and still retained all the versa- 
 tility, elegant airiness, and acquiescence 
 of that pliant character, which rendered 
 him an agreeable companion, where no- 
 thing more substantial was required. 
 
 Since his wife's death, his sister. Lady 
 Eleanor Carl maine, had resided with him. 
 She w^as his junior by twenty years ; a 
 circumstance of which she not unfre- 
 quently reminded him, as well as of the 
 numerous opportunities she had had of 
 marrying ; but which her correct ideas of 
 the requisite qualities in a husband, and 
 the consequent difficulty of making a
 
 158 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 corresponding choice, had always induced 
 her to decline. It was rather necessary 
 Lady Eleanor should make this declara- 
 tion, otherwise the misjudging world 
 might have concluded she remained 
 single, because her person was wholly 
 destitute of attraction, her intellects un- 
 deniably weak, and her temper and dis- 
 position far from amiable. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine, the earl's only son, a 
 fine boy just turned fifteen, and Lady 
 Maria his daughter, in her eighth year, 
 with Adolphus Selwyn, a nephew of the 
 late Lady Ashmore, of nearly the same 
 age as Lord Carlmaine, completed the 
 family of Lord Ashmore. 
 
 The parsonage-house, adjoining the 
 park, was inhabited by his lordship's 
 chaplain, Mr. Huntley, his wife, and 
 daughter, about twenty. This family 
 was truly respectable, as well from their 
 situation as their unassuming manners 
 and urbanity of character. 
 
 Dr. Thornton, who had lately suc^
 
 CONCEALMENT. J 59 
 
 ceeded to the rectory of Hammer ton, was 
 one of those every-day clergymen, who, 
 not possessing, in the opinion of his fa- 
 mily, sufficient brilliancy to make his way 
 in any of the more active professions, 
 had been early dedicated to the church. 
 Nature had, on the other hand, formed 
 and intended him for a downright coun- 
 try gentleman ; and, conformably to that *^' 
 intention, had endowed him with more 
 than common fondness for the usual 
 pleasures and amusements of a country 
 life. 
 
 To sporting, in its various branches, 
 he was most devoted ; as well as to all 
 the comforts and enjoyments of the vari- 
 ous good things of this life, to which an 
 ample fortune gave him easy access. He 
 was still, however, what is generally 
 called a good kind of man ; indulgent in 
 his family, obliging to his neighbours, 
 and kind to the poor. Punctual in his 
 duty once a- week, and willing to attend 
 on other days (out of the sporting season,)
 
 160 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 to the births, marriages, sicknesses, or 
 deaths, of his parishioners. Thus, if he 
 was not a very zealous observer of the 
 gelf-denials he so earnestly recommended 
 to others, neither could he be accused of 
 any great immorality of conduct ; and 
 he was, upon the whole, generally well- 
 liked. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton was the daughter of Sir 
 Jonathan Drawl, a rich citizen ; who, 
 having been knighted while filling a pub- 
 lic office, thought he might, by means of 
 his pretty Anastasia, and fifty thousand 
 pounds, be able to form a connection 
 with rank and fashion. But his pretty 
 Anastasia, at the elegant seminary where 
 she had been educated, had acquired — 
 besides dancing, music, drawing, geo- 
 graphy, astronomy, chronology, zoology, 
 mineralogy, chemistry, botany, and nu- 
 merous other accomplishments, — a strong 
 desire to please herself; and meeting 
 with the handsome young Thornton soon 
 after his ordination, she fell desperately
 
 CONCEALMENT. 161 
 
 in love with hirrij and declared she would 
 marry him, or fret herself to death. Her 
 indulgent father did not long put her 
 resolutions to the test. She cried bit- 
 terly, and abstained from food during 
 one day ; and on the next, as she pout- 
 ingly entered the breakfast-room, she 
 saw Mr. Thornton. 
 
 '* There, sir," said the knight, with a 
 mixture of tenderness and disappoint- 
 ment, " you may take her, since she will 
 have you : but it is not the match I 
 intended for my girl. If, however, you 
 turn out a good husband, and make her 
 happy, I will try to forget all my fine 
 castles in the air. — But harkey. Mister 
 Thornton," continued he, suddenly recol- 
 lecting himself, "though you are only a 
 parson, why should you not be Dr. 
 Thornton, as well as our city preacher 
 Dr. Plump] Yes, you shall be Dr. 
 Thornton before you marry my daughter ; 
 and then who knows but that, in time, 
 you may get a bishopric, and, after all, I
 
 162 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 may be father-in-law to my Lord 
 Bishop." 
 
 The important preliminaries were soon 
 adjusted ; for, though the sober, steady 
 addition of D.D. to his name would have 
 been one of the last things which young 
 Thornton would have coveted ; yet this 
 was not a time for hesitation. Fifty 
 thousand pounds, and a very attractive 
 girl, much in love with him, were cir- 
 cumstances not hkely again to occur in 
 his favour. So, finding Sir Jonathan 
 obstinately bent on seeing him invested 
 with this clerical distinction, he cheer- 
 fully submitted ; with, however, the 
 secret reservation, that there his honours 
 should end, and that nothing should in- 
 duce him to give up his hounds, and part 
 with his horses, dogs, and guns, to be- 
 come a bishop. 
 
 Anastasia (now Mrs. Thornton,) for 
 several years enjoyed the delightful 
 luxury of exhibiting herself and husband 
 in the metropolis, and at fashionable
 
 CONCEALMENT. 163 
 
 watering places, as a particularly hand- 
 some couple. The doctor had actually, 
 the first year of his marriage, given up a 
 whole sporting season to please his wife 
 and her father, — a sacrifice he mentally 
 vowed never to repeat ; and, for several 
 succeeding years, left his wife to find her 
 own amusement during those highly- 
 prized months. 
 
 Two most fortunate events at last oc- 
 curred in the same year, — the death of 
 the incumbent of Hammerton, (a valuable 
 piece of preferment, the advowsori of 
 which the knight had bought for his son,) 
 and the demise of Sir Jonathan himself, 
 whose chief lamentation on the prospect 
 of his dissolution was, that he should be 
 taken away before the plans were ma- 
 tured, by which, in the course of ten 
 years, he might have seen his son-in-law 
 honoured with the mitre. 
 
 By the death of his father-in-law Dr. 
 Thornton became possessed of a very 
 considerable sum of ready money ; and
 
 164 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 by that of the rector of Hammerton he 
 succeeded to a valuable rectory, attached 
 to a large property which he had pur- 
 chased in Devonshire, at the solicitation 
 of Mrs. Thornton, soon after his mar- 
 riage ; and on which they were now come 
 to reside, with three daughters, and a 
 son, then eighteen years old, the eldest of 
 the family. Devonshire was not exactly 
 the county in which Dr. Thornton would 
 have chosen to have settled ; but the pur- 
 chase of the living and estate had appear- 
 ed to Sir Jonathan a good bargain ; and 
 Mrs. Thornton, on going into Devonshire 
 to see the property, had declared that she 
 should never like any other place half so 
 w^ell : the business was, therefore, settled 
 without much reference to the doctor's 
 inclination, — who however resolved, as 
 soon as it should be in his power, to make 
 himself amends for his present conces- 
 sions. This he accordingly did, imme- 
 diately after the knight's death, by buying 
 an estate and shooting-box in Suffolk,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 165 
 
 and a considerable tract of moor-land in 
 the north of England. Having, by these 
 purchases, secured the certain indulgence 
 of his ruling passion, in all its branches, 
 and in various appropriate situations, he 
 cheerfully accompanied his family to 
 Hammerton.
 
 166 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " The sacred lowe o' weel-plac'd love 
 
 Luxuriantly indtilt:e it ; 
 But never tempt th' illicit rove, 
 
 Tho' naithing should divulge it : 
 I wave the quantinii of the .sin, 
 
 The hazard ofconcealinii;; 
 But och ! it hardens a' wilhiii, 
 
 And petrities the feeling !" 
 
 Soon after Byngham had settled in the 
 immediate neighbourhood of Adingham, 
 he had but too often opportunities of 
 observing the increasing depression of 
 his sister's spirits ; and, although not all 
 his most aiFectionate inquiries could draw 
 from Lady Montrevor the slightest ex- 
 pression of suspicion or dissatisfaction, 
 respecting the conduct of her husband, 
 she saw, with grief and surprise, that the 
 warmth of Lord Montrevor's former 
 attachment was fast declinino;. His 
 absences from home were now long and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 167 
 
 frequent, during which his wife's chief 
 solace was her dauo:hter, who beaan to 
 repay her tenderness, and called forth all 
 the maternal energies. 
 
 Against this trying hour, Lady Mon- 
 trevor was not unprepared ; she had long- 
 seen the dark days of affliction approach- 
 ing, and had endeavoured to fortify her 
 mind with religion, fortitude, and patient 
 resignation, — resources so impossible to 
 summon at a moment's warning, and y^t 
 so necessary in the hour of distress. 
 
 Scarcely was the first wound healed 
 which her affection had received from 
 Vittoria, than she again found just cause 
 for alarm in the altered manners of her 
 husband. Her heart was wholly his ; and 
 equally strong, also, for some time after 
 their marriage, had appeared Lord Mon- 
 trevor's attachment : but soon other com- 
 pany, and other scenes, became necessary 
 to him ; and Lady Montrevor cheerfully 
 resigned her own fondness for the peace- 
 ful pleasures of a retired mode of life,
 
 168 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and Arlingham was constantly thronged 
 with visitors. 
 
 This change had, for a time, charms 
 for the fickle Montrevor ; after which he 
 again became restless and dissatisfied, 
 and sought to lose ennui in scenes far 
 from home. His wife struggled long to 
 conceal, even from him, the anguish that 
 preyed upon her mind; while still, with 
 the scrupulous delicacy of real affection, 
 she refrained from every expression that 
 could bear the interpretation of reproach 
 or complaint. Hence the not unfrequent 
 returns of all his first affection were hail- 
 ed by her with tremulous hope, and re- 
 ceived with every mark of love and 
 confidence. This angelic conduct had 
 its natural effect upon a heart not wholly 
 depraved ; it tacitly reproached him with 
 his folly and inconstancy, endeared to him 
 for a time the society of his wife, and 
 prompted professions of exclusive pre- 
 ference and increased reo:ard. 
 
 Too soon, however, did Lady Montrevor
 
 CONCEALMENT. 169^ 
 
 learn that little reliance was to be placed 
 on these momentary effusions of tender- 
 ness ; but they served to keep alive her 
 love for the man on whom she had be- 
 stowed her earliest affections. Not only 
 therefore the world, and her most inti- 
 mate acquaintance, but even Lord Mon- 
 trevor himself failed to penetrate through 
 the sweet serenity and dignified compo- 
 sure of Lady Montrevor's countenance, 
 and read not the bitter anguish of her 
 wounded heart. 
 
 From the quick-sighted and anxious 
 observation of her brother she could not 
 conceal all she wished; and, seeing enough 
 to make him tremble for her happiness, 
 which was as dear to him as his own, 
 he congratulated himself on his lately 
 adopted plan, by which he was enabled, 
 in some degree, to watch and protect her 
 peace : at the same time, sincere respect 
 for her character prevented any efforts to 
 extort a confidence, that, it was evident, 
 would be most painful to her. Neither 
 I
 
 170 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 did he, for her sake, mark, by any altera- 
 tion in his manner towards her husband, 
 how much he had fallen in his esteem 
 and regard. 
 
 Lord Montrevor was at this time much 
 more an object of commiseration than his 
 suffering wife. He had lost his self- 
 esteem on one trying occasion, and had 
 since been the sport of contending pas- 
 sions and laudable intentions ; without 
 sufficient steadiness of character to con- 
 trol the former, or act consistently with 
 the latter. Thence, in great measure, 
 arose his unavailing regrets respecting 
 the past, dissatisfaction of the present, 
 and ever wavering resolutions for the 
 future. 
 
 When Lord Montrevor (while still 
 Mr. Stracy,) quitted England, to avoid 
 the importunities of his father, respecting 
 an alliance to which he was averse, it 
 may be remembered he had pledged his 
 hand and affections to Miss Byngham ;
 
 CONCEALMENT. ITl 
 
 and no one ever intended a more strict 
 observance of a solemn engagement. 
 
 On reaching the Continent^ he found 
 himself launched on the vast ocean of 
 life, with but little better helm or com- 
 pass for his conduct than what he could 
 derive from a disposition naturally good, 
 though somewhat vacillating, and the 
 recollections of the virtuous instructions 
 he had received. These, and his sincere 
 attachment to Miss Byngham, were suf- 
 ficient to preserve his honour and prin- 
 ciples uncontaminated during a short 
 residence at Paris, — surrounded as he 
 was by all that could allure his youth, or 
 fan his newly-awakened passions ; where, 
 under the modified terms of gaite de 
 cceur, pleasure, and dissipation, so many 
 daily run the career of licentiousness and 
 vice : a career that, having long banished 
 all individual virtue and happiness from 
 that ill-fated capital, extending, at length, 
 its baneful influence to the remoter pro- 
 i2
 
 172 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 vinces, eventually reduced a whole king- 
 dom to misery and galling slavery. 
 
 Proud of having withstood temptations 
 in what he thought their most alluring 
 garb, Stracy entered Italy. There he 
 often found the thin veil of decorum, 
 which was still sometimes worn by the 
 Parisians, wholly thrown aside ; and he 
 soon discovered that not to be vicious 
 under an Italian sky was to be singular. 
 He experienced all the disgust natural to 
 a delicate mind, on seeing those vices 
 rear their unblushing fronts, which, in 
 other countries, are seen to take the sem- 
 blance of better qualities, or seek shelter 
 under the mysterious shades of night. 
 
 When he thought of Charlotte Byng- 
 ham, and compared her artless virtue 
 with the female part of his present ac- 
 quaintance, she appeared still more 
 worthy his affection ; and, had he only- 
 had to combat the common instigations 
 of youthful passions, her image, and the 
 just ideas of moral rectitude he had early
 
 CONCEALMENT. 173 
 
 imbibed, would, probably, have preserved 
 him from those indiscretions, that thus 
 early shed a baleful influence over his 
 life. 
 
 It was his misfortune at Florence to 
 meet with a young man, with whom he 
 had, a few years before, formed a boyish 
 intimacy. This youth, though scarcely 
 more than two years older than Stracy, 
 had far outstripped him in what he called 
 knowledge of life ; and now, with easy 
 good humour, offered to initiate the son 
 of LordMontrevor into the way of passing 
 his time agreeably. 
 
 We will not compel the reader to wade 
 through a journal of the adventures of two 
 young men, left almost solely to the gui- 
 dance of their passions ; but content our- 
 selves with observing, that, without any 
 worse design than that of pursuing plea- 
 sure in the tract already but 4;oo well 
 beaten for them, they were guilty of ac- 
 tions which, in their dispassionate mo- 
 ments, they condemned. 
 i3
 
 1T4 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Montrevor's attachment to MissByng- 
 ham for a short time combated in his 
 mind the allurements of the Italian wo- 
 men ; but, on being introduced to Signora 
 Vittoria by his friend, his constancy va- 
 nished before a sudden impetuous pas- 
 sion. All the vows, by which he had 
 before bound himself, were in a moment 
 forgotten ; and that heart, which, a short 
 time before, glowed with virtuous love, 
 was now agitated by fierce, ungovern- 
 able desire, for an object, from whom 
 virtue should have taught him to turn 
 with disgust. 
 
 In forming the person of Vittoria, Na- 
 ture seemed to have left far behind all 
 her former attempts at perfection. To 
 features of the most regular beauty, she 
 had given such powerful and versatile 
 expression, that her conquests were in 
 general not only those of the senses, but 
 of the heart also. If, at times, her beau- 
 tiful dark eyes emitted flashes of indig- 
 nant or resentful fire, that power seemed
 
 CONCEALMENT. 175 
 
 only given them, to render more striking, 
 by the contrast, the soft and fascinating 
 tenderness with which they, at others, 
 beamed. 
 
 Her form w^as graceful and command- 
 ing ; and, though her countenance and 
 demeanor seemed haughtily to declare, to 
 her own sex, her conscious superiority ; to 
 men, her manners were so artfully modi- 
 fied, as to ensure her never-faiHng suc- 
 cess, whenever she took the trouble of 
 wishing to succeed. Born and nurtured 
 among the lowest order of society, she 
 had, while scarcely more than a child, 
 been basely sold by her unnatural pa- 
 rents for the vilest of purposes. When 
 the separation from her mother took place, 
 Vittoria was the more struck with the 
 advice then given, as she had never be- 
 fore received any thing in the form of 
 instruction. 
 
 *^ Adieu, my child;" said this aban- 
 doned wretch, drawing her aside, and 
 embracing her with one arm, while in 
 i4
 
 176 CONGEALMEIjTT. 
 
 the other hand she grasped the glit- 
 tering price of the yet innocent victim : 
 "Sancta Maria watch over you, and 
 make you grateful for my care. You 
 will, of course, remain no longer with 
 your protector than till an opportunity of 
 a better bargain offers. Such opportu- 
 nities will not be wanting ; but you must 
 mind and seize them. As long as you 
 are your own mistress, men will be your 
 slaves ; but, if you once permit yourself to 
 love, you will be theirs. Let money be 
 your grand aim : you will find that a solid 
 advantage, when all others will have va- 
 nished with your faded charms." 
 
 These instructions (would they were 
 only pictures of the imagination !) made a 
 deep impression on the young and ardent 
 mind of Vittoria. Short, indeed, was 
 the reign of her first admirer ; and soon 
 all he had to boast was, that he had been 
 the first to introduce this beautiful girl 
 upon the theatre of vice. Scenes of li- 
 centious pleasure soon became familiar
 
 CONCEALMENT. ITTi 
 
 to her ; and the base purposes of her in- 
 famous life were systematically pursued, 
 unchecked by any considerations but 
 those which prospect of gain suggested. 
 In short, so scrupulously did Vittoria 
 adhere to her mother's precepts, that va- 
 rious distinguished suitors courted her 
 favour by offers of a splendid establish- 
 ment ; and, though, when young Stracy 
 first saw her, she had not attained her 
 twentieth year, she was already old in the 
 ways of vice. 
 
 Till this time, Plutus had reigned un- 
 disputed sovereign in her bosom, almost 
 to the exclusion of pleasure. := But the mo- 
 ment was now arrived, when the selfish 
 heart, that had preyed so successfully on 
 the weakness and passions of others, was 
 itself to yield to those feelings she had 
 viewed with contempt and ridicule. At 
 a public entertainment she saw the son 
 of Lord Montrevor, who excited in her 
 heart sensations to which she had been 
 hitherto a stranger. 
 i5
 
 178 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 To pine in secret was no characteristic 
 of Vittoria's mind. The next day she 
 caused him to be introduced to her ; and 
 it will not appear surprising that she, 
 who on common and mercenary occasions 
 had never failed to please, should meet 
 with complete success, now that a first 
 and strong passion urged her to leave no 
 art untried likely to produce it. Love 
 indeed was a new guest to her, and she 
 yielded to it with all the violence natural 
 to her temper. The lessons of her mother 
 were forgotten ; and the presents re- 
 ceived from her English paramour were 
 valued chiefly as coming from him. 
 
 Stracy, on the other hand, proud to find 
 himself thus distinguished, and intoxi- 
 cated by the seducing arts of Vittoria, 
 thought no more of Charlotte Byngham ; 
 or, if at times her chaste image crossed 
 his mind, he hastened to banish it from 
 scenes which he felt were incompatible 
 with her innocence. He trusted she 
 would never be acquainted with his infi-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 179 
 
 delity ; and endeavoured to reconcile it 
 to himself by the sophistical argument, 
 that the sentiments excited by MissByng- 
 ham and his Italian were perfectly diffe- 
 rent; and that, although for a short time 
 he had yielded to an improper impulse, 
 his tenderness for the former was undi- 
 minished. 
 
 Such was the language of his passions, 
 which had not power totally to suppress 
 the sentiments of honor and virtue ; yet 
 were sufficiently strong to silence their 
 suggestions. The consequences of his 
 weak and guilty compliance may easily 
 be anticipated : in this immoral delirium 
 passed several months, during which the 
 attachment of Vittoria increased. Her 
 doors were no longer indiscriminately 
 open to licentiousness, and gold had lost 
 its power to charm. 
 
 In vain, at the first alarm, her mother 
 had flown to save her daughter from 
 ruin ; in vain used every persuasion to 
 break off a connexion, that threatened to
 
 180 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 stop the influx of wealth, which she had 
 remarked with so much pleasure. Her 
 daughter declared, that, if she could re- 
 tain her empire over the heart of Stracy, 
 she should be indifferent to every other 
 consideration. 
 
 Such, however, was not the state of 
 Montrevor's mind : *' midst roses, fierce 
 repentance began to rear her forky crest;" 
 satiety also assisted the operations of his 
 sense of moral rectitude; and he was de- 
 liberating on the best way of emanci- 
 pating himself from this unworthy sla- 
 very, when he was summoned home by 
 the death of his father. 
 
 Vittoria saw him depart with inexpres- 
 sible grief, and was with difficulty de- 
 terred from accompanying him, by a 
 promise that he would return as soon as 
 the business that called him to England 
 would permit. This promise, one of the 
 many, in Lord Montrevor's opinion, at 
 which love laughs, was made without any 
 reference to the intention ; and was
 
 CONCEALMENT. 181 
 
 thought of no more by him, — whose pursuit 
 of happiness now sought a very different 
 direction ; and whose late disgraceful in- 
 fatuation was quickly banished from his 
 mind by the joy and tenderness with 
 which he was welcomed by the unsus- 
 pecting Miss Byngham. 
 
 He was, however, soon sensible of the 
 trouble and vexation attendant on guilty 
 pleasure. Vittoria, finding her pressing 
 letters urging his return unattended to, 
 at last signified her actual arrival in 
 London, — where, if he did not join her at 
 a time specified, she said he might expect 
 to see her at Arlingham. 
 
 Alarmed at this unwelcome news, ^ind 
 still more at the idea of the threatened 
 visit, he cursed his past follies, and trem- 
 bled lest his wife should be made ac- 
 quainted with them. No time was to be 
 lost ; and he wrote to Vittoria in the most 
 soothing terms, lamenting the engage- 
 ment into which he had entered since 
 they parted ; and, with well-feigned sor-
 
 182 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 row, informed her, that he must relin- 
 quish an intimacy from which he had 
 enjoyed so much happiness. He entreat- 
 ed her to spare him the pain of another 
 parting ; and besought her, by their past 
 affection, not to disturb the tranquilHty 
 of an amiable woman, to whom he was 
 now bound by the most solemn ties. 
 
 In this letter he enclosed a considerable 
 remittance ; vainly hoping that pecuniary 
 favours, and assurances of regard, would 
 compensate, in the estimation of an ena- 
 moured woman, for the loss of undivided 
 aifection. 
 
 Lord Montrevor's sincere regard for 
 his wife had, at this time, suffered no 
 abatement ; and the above letter was ex- 
 torted by the most distressing fears lest 
 her happiness should be assailed. With 
 tjhe answer, he received back the remit- 
 tance, which Vittoria rejected with dis- 
 dain, declaring that nothing should sa- 
 tisfy her but an interview ; and, by the 
 same post, she sent the alarming letter
 
 CONCEALMENT. 18S 
 
 addressed to Lady Montrevor, which the 
 reader may probably recollect. 
 
 The distressed, repentant Montrevor, 
 now sought to temporize, while he en- 
 deavoured to devise the means by which 
 he should be able to avoid a rencontre he 
 could not think of without apprehension 
 and dislike. Enraged by what she called 
 his mean subterfuges, Vittoria, in pur- 
 suance of her resentful intention, dis- 
 patched the miniature of her faithless 
 lover to Lady Montrevor, and set out for 
 Devonshire. 
 
 It was a gi'eat relief to Montrevor, that, 
 at the very time of the arrival of this in- 
 vader of his peace, his wife was sum- 
 moned to Austenbury by the increasing 
 illness of her father. The agitation of 
 their parting has been noticed ; and, soon 
 after, however great his reluctance, he 
 found himself compelled to seek his Ita- 
 lian tormentor, who had established her- 
 self at a sea-port in his immediate 
 neighbourhood. At this meeting, Vit-
 
 184 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 toria, aided by real and affected sensi- 
 bility, exhausted all her powers of art 
 and persuasion to regain her influence 
 over the senses of Lord Montrevor. But, 
 though she had never appeared more 
 beautiful, and had never expressed such 
 entire devotedness to him, his heart w^as 
 steeled against her seductions by the 
 image of his wife ; whose mild attractive 
 virtues formed, in the course of this in- 
 terview, a striking contrast with the 
 frantic rage that shook the bosom of 
 Vittoria, when she found her utmost 
 efforts lost on the only man she had ever 
 loved. 
 
 Agitated by passion, pride, disappoint- 
 ment, and all the fiends which haunt 
 the mind of *' woman scorned," she ac- 
 knowledged the revengeful step she had 
 taken to wound Lady Montrevor, and at 
 last left him, reiterating vows of revenge. 
 Though still trembling with indistinct 
 fears, excited by her threats and impre- 
 cations, Lord Montrevor saw her depart
 
 CONCEALMENT. 185 
 
 with pleasure ; and soon after, congratu- 
 lating himself on his own conduct, he 
 hastened to rejoin his wife, and expressed 
 all the admiration and gratitude he owed 
 her for her generous fortitude and affec- 
 tionate forbearance.
 
 186 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Oh. be those scenes from human eyes conceal'dy 
 
 In clouds of decent silence justly veil'd ! 
 
 O, be the wanton images convey'd 
 
 To black oblivioi),and eternal shade! 
 
 Or let tlieir sad epitome alone, 
 
 And outward lines, to future age be known. 
 
 Enough to propagate the sure belief, 
 
 That vice engenders shame, and folly broods o'er grief.' 
 
 PRIOR. 
 
 ViTTORiA, after her interview with Lord 
 Montrevor, had fled, with characteristic 
 impetuosity, from the hated spot, where 
 her proffered love had been scorned, and 
 where her happy rival resided. 
 
 The man who attended her from Italy 
 had been the valet of Lord Montrevor, 
 from whose service he had passed to that 
 of Vittoria. Being a shrewd fellow, he 
 had acquired much of her confidence, 
 and to him she spoke unreservedly of the 
 baseness of his former master, and made 
 many inquiries respecting Lady Mon- 
 trevor.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 187 
 
 Filippo was by nature artful, civil, and 
 selfish : a dependant situation had made 
 low cunning and deceit habitual, because 
 profitable, to him ; had taught him to 
 endure, with smothered disgust, the vio- 
 lence of passion, the taunts of peevish- 
 ness and caprice ; in short, had made him 
 proficient in the art of practising upon the 
 weakness of his employers. 
 
 He seized the first moment, when his 
 mistress's anger was subsiding, to advise 
 her to dismiss her revengeful intentions 
 for the present ; and wait till his lordship 
 was tired of his wife, (an event he was 
 positive, from the fickleness of his cha- 
 racter, would certainly happen,) when 
 she might find means of recalling him, or 
 gratifying her resentment. Vittoria, in 
 despair at the ill success of her plans, 
 felt her love, as well as her pride, se- 
 verely wounded; and was disposed to 
 listen to any suggestions, that offered a 
 probable, though distant, hope of regain-
 
 188 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ing the place she had once possessed in 
 Montrevor's affections : yielding there- 
 fore, with many a struggle, she con- 
 sented to retrace her steps, and return to 
 Italy. 
 
 The zeal displayed by Filippo on this 
 occasion was not, as his mistress ima- 
 gined, wholly disinterested. On entering 
 her service, he had expected to share, as 
 his predecessor had done, in the emolu- 
 ment she derived from her mode of life : 
 but her great retirement, after her ac- 
 quaintance with Lord Montrevor, disap- 
 pointed his hopes ; and he was seeking 
 to better his fortune, when Vittoria 
 determined on a sudden journey to 
 England. 
 
 Here, he thought, would be a new 
 theatre open to his abilities ; and he con- 
 ceived that, in a country where foreigners 
 were always caressed, a man of his talents 
 could not fail to make his way. Too 
 wise to act rashly, he resolved to await
 
 CONCEALMENT. 189 
 
 the event of his mistress's attack on Lord 
 Montrevor, while he leisurely looked 
 about for himself. 
 
 Filippo had, however, the mortification 
 to discover that his advancement was 
 not so certain as he expected ; and he 
 was not displeased at the turn affairs had 
 taken in Devonshire, but employed all his 
 address to induce his mistress to return 
 to her own country, — where there was 
 still residing at Florence an English gen- 
 tleman, who had much wished to succeed 
 Lord Montrevor in Vittoria's good graces; 
 and, as he was immensely rich, Filippo 
 thought that it would be a profitable 
 speculation for himself All his art and 
 address were, therefore, directed to this 
 end; alternately soothing his mistress 
 with hopes of regaining Lord Montrevor's 
 affections, or instigating her to contempt, 
 as it best coincided with her reigning 
 humour. 
 
 Though Vittoria could not forget, she, 
 by degrees, consented to resign, Mon-
 
 190 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 trevor, and gave the reins to those avari- 
 cious desires, which iove had for a season 
 interrupted. Filippo, who had artfully 
 acquired unbounded influence over her, 
 had the satisfaction to see her accept the 
 protection and splendid establishment 
 offered by the antiquated Mr. Danford, 
 who handsomely rewarded his services. 
 
 This unnatural union of youth and age, 
 avarice and licentiousness, cemented by 
 dissimulation on one part, and credulous 
 vanity on the other, continued for several 
 years ; when Mr. Danford, thinking his 
 health permanently improved by the mild 
 air of Italy, returned to England, and was 
 happy in being able to prevail on the 
 charming signora to accompany him. 
 
 On breathing the English air, Vittoria 
 seemed to re-inhale all her former passion 
 for Lord Montrevor, and she earnestly 
 besought Filippo to obtain every possible 
 information concerning him. In vain did 
 this prudent confidant endeavour to dis- 
 suade her from such dangerous inquiries :
 
 CONCEALMENT. 19l 
 
 her inclinations would submit to no re- 
 straint. Her passion for Lord Montrevor 
 had been opposed, but not conquered, by 
 necessity ; and other views, more sordid 
 and controllable, had succeeded : but, to 
 former difficulties, she now would no 
 longer listen, and she determined to see 
 him once more. 
 
 To Filippo's slow and wary counsels 
 she did not deign to listen, farther than 
 to assure him, that his discretion and 
 assistance would be useless to her, except 
 they facilitated the attainment of an ob- 
 ject, which she would not relinquish, and 
 in the pursuit of which she was regard- 
 less of every minor consideration. His 
 discernment did not fail him : he well 
 knew this was one of the occasions on 
 which he must bend ; and, judging that 
 the business would be better managed 
 by himself than any one else, he agreed 
 to learn all he could of Lord Montrevor's 
 family ; but seriously cautioned his mis- 
 tress against any imprudence that might 
 
 1
 
 192 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 endanger a situation with which she had 
 so much reason to be satisfied. 
 
 On this occasion Filippo's self-interest 
 had taken serious alarm, lest he should 
 eventually lose a place more than com- 
 monly lucrative. Caution and secrecy 
 were, however, the only expedients which 
 remained to him ; for he was convinced 
 that it would be both imprudent and use- 
 less to apply any other corrections to the 
 daring disposition and well-known im- 
 petuosity of Vittoria, He was soon able 
 to inform her, that Lord Montrevor was 
 then alone in town ; and she resolved this 
 time not to announce herself, but to take 
 her faithless lover by surprise. This, by 
 the ingenious contrivance of Filippo, was 
 easily effected. 
 
 The leading feature of Lord Montre- 
 vor's mind, as we have before observed, 
 was extreme inconstancy, not only in his 
 attachments, but in his tastes, pleasures, 
 and transactions of every kind. To this 
 unchecked giant vice, — which, if not
 
 CONCEALMENT, 193 
 
 registered in the catalogue of the blackest 
 crimes, too often proves equally destruc- 
 tive to the virtue and happiness of man- 
 kind, he had yielded from infancy ; and 
 now that the duties of a husband and fa- 
 ther, with increasing years, demanded 
 from him a consistent mode of action, and 
 a steady conduct, he was a prey to all the 
 fickle desires and extravagancies which 
 had marked his youth. 
 
 His wife possessed his esteem and 
 admiration ; but, for many years, he had 
 been much confined to her society ; con- 
 sequently, without having the shadow of 
 a fault with which to reproach her, or a 
 wish that she were different, in any re- 
 spect, from what she was, he had, by 
 degrees, become wearied of her and his 
 home ; oppressed with the dull vacancy 
 of the latter, and thoughtlessly insensible 
 of its comforts. 
 
 Change, though justified by no suffi- 
 cient motives of preference, was abso- 
 lutely necessary to his existence ; and, as 
 
 K
 
 194 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Lady Montrevor, by choice, passed much 
 of her time in the country, — excursions to 
 town, or public places of fashionable re- 
 sort, formed his usual and frequent relax- 
 ations ; and relieved, for a season, the 
 tedium of life. On his return after tliese 
 absences, his wife welcomed him with 
 smiles and good humour : he found his 
 little Caroline grown, and improved ; the 
 weather was fine, and the scenery delight- 
 ful. Or else, in the friendly party assem- 
 bled round tlie cheerful hearth of Arling- 
 ham, he felt conscious of enjoyment he 
 bad not found from home : domestic so- 
 ciety and engagements, rural sports and 
 occupations, every thing was again new ; 
 and therefore resumed, and retained, for 
 a short time, their power of amusing hinj. 
 His wife had now learnt to enjoy these 
 transient hours, as we do the sun-beams 
 on a cold April day, — well knowing they 
 possess but a passing warmth. 
 
 It was during one of his re-animating 
 excursions to the metropolis that Lord
 
 CONCEALMENT, 106 
 
 Montrevor, deceived by the contrivance 
 of Filippo, under the pretence of hearing 
 the character of a servant, was one 
 evening shewn into a room, where Vitto- 
 ria, in almost breathless agitation, awaited 
 Mm. Her beauty, to the astonished eyes 
 of Montrevor, appeared more radiant than 
 ever. For a moment he stood motionless 
 with surprise ; the next he seized her ex- 
 tended hand, and was at her feet before 
 he could collect his bewildered senses. 
 Vittoria read her approaching triumph 
 in his expressive countenance, and left 
 no art untried to secure her victim. The 
 moment was favourable to her intenticms : 
 Lord Montrevor had been indulging in 
 convivial excesses at a military mess ; his 
 wife was forgotten, and he consented to 
 continue these meetings while he remain- 
 ed in London. 
 
 From this time he felt degraded in his 
 
 own eyes, and uncomfortable when ia 
 
 the presence of Lady Montrevor ; but he 
 
 was again enslaved; and, experiencing 
 
 k2
 
 196 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 often an excitement, in the company of 
 the lively Italian and her associates, to 
 which he had not lately been accustomed, 
 the society of his family and former 
 friends gradually grew less and less 
 agreeable to him. He was introduced 
 to Mr. Danford, at whose house he be- 
 came a frequent and welcome guest ; , 
 while the constant care and attention, 
 necessary to elude that gentleman's sus- 
 picions, and conceal the disgraceful in- 
 trigue in which he was engaged, served 
 to rivet his chains, by giving perpetual, 
 though guilty, employ to his mind and 
 passions : thus exemplifying the truth of 
 Sir Francis Bacon's observation, that — 
 *' Nuptial love maketh mankind ; friendly 
 love perfecteth it ; but wanton love em^ 
 baseth it,''
 
 CONCEALMENT. 197 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 "Children have a conscience within them, and it should 
 be awakened early to its duty." watts. 
 
 "The mental faculties, in different constitutions, display 
 themselves earlier or later, according to some internal orga-r 
 nization, as difficult to be observed as explained by human 
 «agdcity." KNOX. 
 
 Years now rolled on unmarked by the 
 occurrence of any event at Arlingham, or 
 in its neighbourhood, of any consequence 
 to this history. The education of Caro- 
 line Montrevor, Frederick, and Julia, 
 with that of the little Emma, had, during 
 these years, almost exclusively engaged 
 the time and attention of Lady Mon- 
 trevor and Mr. Dermont; both equally 
 anxious to sow, thus early, the seeds of 
 virtue and knowledge in the minds of 
 these objects of their love. Maternal 
 affection first taught Lady Montrevor to 
 stifle or suspend the considerations of her 
 k3
 
 198 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 domestic uneasiness ; and compassionate 
 goodness, joined to regard for her bro- 
 ther, induced her to extend her affec- 
 tionate care to his adopted children. 
 
 Mr. Byngham occasionally lent his aid 
 towards this grand work; but his mind 
 had early been too severely wounded and 
 unstrung, to allow that evenness of tem- 
 per and spirits requisite to the task of 
 instruction. He had, in due time, re- 
 ceived the anxiously expected packet 
 from India ; but in this last hope he w^as 
 again disappointed. 
 
 Capt. Howard acknowledged having 
 been acquainted w ith Mrs. Lawrence for 
 several years, but had never been able to 
 penetrate the mystery that surrounded 
 her. His first meeting with her had been 
 on-board an Irish packet. Her appa-p 
 rently forlorn situation, her . extreme 
 youth, bad state of health, and great de-p 
 jection, had particularly interested him ; 
 and having, during a voyage of unusual 
 length, had opportunities of shewing her
 
 CONCEALMENT, 199 
 
 some trifling civilities, he obtained per- 
 mission to escort her to the house of a 
 relation in Westminster. 
 
 On her arrival, Mrs. Lawrence leaned 
 out of the coach-window, and, in a low 
 voice, asked for some one, whose name 
 he could not distinguish. In answer, 
 she was told, that the gentleman had sold 
 his house, and gone abroad. Mrs. Law- 
 rence was greatly agitated by this news ; 
 and, in the agony of the moment, declared 
 she had not another acquaintance in Eng^ 
 land. Thus destitute, she was easily 
 prevailed on to be introduced to Mrs^, 
 Howard, who received her with kindness^ 
 and took every means of exciting her 
 confidence. But, with deep afflictioii 
 and irresistible ingenuousness, she ift* 
 formed them, that she had lost her hus-i 
 band, and that family circumstances, of 
 a peculiar nature, forbad her being more 
 communicative respecting her connexions* 
 During this visit her pregnancy was dis- 
 covered, and she earnestly entreated to bei 
 k4
 
 200 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 assisted in procuring a small residence 
 in a remote part of England, where she 
 might live and rear her offspring. 
 
 To the plan of occupying Mr. Howard's 
 cottage in Cumberland she gladly ac- 
 ceded ; and, as soon as the necessary 
 preparations could be completed, she has- 
 tened to remove thither. Mr. Howard 
 concluded this detail by the highest en- 
 comiums on his deceased friend, whose 
 affecting situation and amiable manners 
 had endeared her to Mrs. Howard ; who, 
 though at first naturally suspicious, gave 
 implicit belief to the truth of Mrs. Law- 
 rence's account of herself. 
 
 Thus closed every prospect Mr. 
 Byngham had cherished of tracing the 
 parents of the unfortunate twins, intro- 
 duced by him as the orphans of a parti- 
 cular friend, who had died abroad. They 
 had now attained their sixteenth year, 
 and had daily become more dear to his 
 heart, which had never lost the remem- 
 brance of its feelings towards their
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 201 
 
 mother; and most faithfully and affec- 
 tionately had he hitherto performed the 
 sacred promise by which he had cheered 
 her last moments. 
 
 Frederick (whom we have scarcely yet 
 introduced to the reader as our hero,) 
 was a fine grown boy, whose already 
 graceful form, and dark expressive coun- 
 tenance, gave every promise of manly 
 beauty. A manner naturally retiring, 
 and a pensive cast of features, combined, 
 with his personal attractions and dispo- 
 sition, to render him an object of pecu- 
 liar interest to all who were acquainted 
 with him ; while, by his immediate con- 
 nexions, he was fondly beloved, and by 
 none more than his respected friend Mr. 
 Dermont. 
 
 This gentleman had been so much 
 pleased with the early display of ability 
 in his young charge, that he determined 
 not to part with him till he had fitted 
 him for the University. Indeed, the 
 attachment between the instructor and 
 k5
 
 202 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 pupil was like that of father and son. 
 The former had watched, and carefully 
 cherished, in the expanding mind of 
 Frederick, the many seeds of virtue he 
 found already sown : while, with equal 
 vigilance, he sought to detect every la-i- 
 tent propensity to wrong, ere a baleful 
 habit could be contracted. 
 
 No wonder, then, if the love and reve- 
 rence of such a preceptor, operating on 
 the natural endowments of Frederick, 
 had produced an almost perfect being. 
 Frederick, however, was not perfect. 
 He had already discovered, to the pene- 
 trating eye of Mr. Dermont, as well as to 
 that of his affectionate guardian, a turn 
 of character, which called for the greatest 
 attention. 
 
 At sixteen bis bosom glowed, with ge- 
 nerous warmth, towards his fellow-crea- 
 tures; and, conscious that every sensation 
 of that bosom was, at least, well-inten- 
 tioned, his soul was open as his counte- 
 nance, and all disguise and concealment
 
 CONCEALMENT. ^03^ 
 
 appeared wholly foreign to hk nature. 
 Frederick had early understood that 
 Julia and himself were totally destitute 
 of natural connexions, and that he had 
 no claims on the affection of their several 
 friends, but such as they voluntarily and 
 benevolently allowed. Hence his tender 
 devotedness to his sister was as unbound- 
 ed as romantic. In every childish sport 
 and contention, he gravely stood forward 
 as her only natural protector and de- 
 fender ; and to contribute, in numberless 
 ways, to her pleasures or amusement, 
 seemed to constitute his chief employ- 
 ment in those hours destined for his re- 
 creation. 
 
 From the same affectionate source 
 arose his love and gratitude towards 
 Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham ; 
 often recollecting, with conscious pride 
 and satisfaction, that he had never in- 
 curred, from either, one word of serious 
 reproof. 
 
 When scarcely emerging from child-
 
 204 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 hood, his heart had been cruelly afflicted 
 by the loss of his mother ; and, as reason 
 gradually enlightened his mind, it brought 
 the early consciousness of an unconnect- 
 ed situation, very different from that of 
 all his young associates. The frequent 
 recurrence of opportunities for making 
 these painful comparisons, engendered, 
 almost in the dawn of life, a disposition 
 to seriousness, and a romantic sensibility, 
 that threatened to mislead or enervate a 
 mind which gave considerable promise 
 of ability. His watchful friends, (parti- 
 cularly Mr. Dermont,) had early noticed 
 ' this baneful tendency, and directed their 
 care to check its progress. 
 
 Julia we must also more particularly 
 introduce to the reader. The years of 
 childhood had past with her in all the 
 simple happiness which is its usual pre- 
 rogative, scarcely interrupted, but by the 
 loss of her mother ; and all traces of that 
 melancholy event were soon obliterated. 
 
 When Lady Montrevor married, she
 
 CONCEALMENT. 205 
 
 had taken from her father's house a fe- 
 male servant, whom her mother had 
 brought from Spain, whither Mr. Byng- 
 ham, senior, had gone on business. Du- 
 ring his residence there, his wife had been 
 attacked with a severe illness ; on which 
 occasion, a Spanish woman had attended 
 her so faithfu%, that Mrs. Byngham had 
 become very partial to her. Ursula (the 
 person in question,) had just lost, by 
 death, a young man, with whom she was 
 on the point of marriage ; and, being her- 
 self attached to Mrs. Byngham, was 
 easily persuaded to quit Spain, and con- 
 tinue in her service. 
 
 Lady Montrevor highly prized the me- 
 rits of Ursula, who had brought up Caro- 
 line, and cheerfully extended her cares to 
 Edward Byngham and Julia, when they 
 were added to her nursery. 
 
 Though, in a moment of affliction, 
 when labouring under a severe disap- 
 pointment, life had but few charms, 
 Ursula had consented to leave Spain, —
 
 206 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 which had been the scene of her hopes 
 and her sorrow ; she still retained an en- 
 thusiastic love of her country, and the 
 most unqualified admiration of all it» 
 customs, ceremonies, and superstitions. 
 
 She had been born and educated in the 
 family of a noble Castilian, — in the recol- 
 lection and praise of whose whole gene- 
 ration her memory never failed, nor 
 her tongue ever tired. Possessing an 
 inexhaustible store of old Spanish ro- 
 mances and legends, it was her delight to 
 retail them to her young auditors, as soon 
 as they were of an age, even partially, to 
 understand her tales of wonder. The 
 commanding hauteur and stately noble 
 carriage of Don Lerma dc Soria, her for- 
 mer master ; tlie height, beauty, and 
 sweetness, of Donna Isabella, his w ife ; 
 the immense size of the castle in which 
 she liad herself been born ; and the incre- 
 dible number of domestics maintained by 
 the hidalgo in Old Castile, — were always 
 to her subjects of inexhaustible delight.*
 
 CONCEALMENT. 207? 
 
 Of Don Lerma de Soria's ancestors she 
 had also much to tell. How many had 
 died fighting against the Moors; how 
 many others had been victorious, or lost 
 their lives, in tournaments, in the pre- 
 sence of their mistresses. Then the la- 
 dies came in, also, for their sliare of 
 celebrity. Long stories often described 
 whole years of imprisonment and starva- 
 tion, experienced from the cruelty and 
 jealousy of fathers and husbands ; during 
 which the extreme of heroism, fortitude, 
 and constancy, was uniformly displayed. 
 At another time the heroine of the fable 
 was some dauntless amazon, who follow- 
 ed her lover to the Holy Wars in disguise; 
 fouglit by his side ; and, undiscovered, 
 readied her home when all was over ; and 
 had only, as a reward for her perilous 
 labours, the consciousness of sharing with 
 her beloved the dangers of war, and of 
 having, perhaps, by her vigilant activity, 
 warded from his heart the meditated 
 Wow. Or else, the virgin warrior, after
 
 208 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 prodigies of valour, received in her own 
 breast the wound aimed at her lover, and 
 expired at his feet, whispering her name, 
 and entreating the now frantic cavalier 
 w^ould see that due respect was paid to 
 her remains. 
 
 Such were the stories with which the 
 opening minds of Miss Montrevor and 
 Julia were frequently greeted. To the 
 former they gave but a very mixed kind 
 of amusement, — terror often inducing her 
 to hurry away, leaving the sequel un- 
 heard : but Julia would sit listening for 
 hours untired; while her whole person 
 remained motionless, her eyes fixed, her 
 mouth a little opened, and her attention 
 and understanding: stretched to their ut- 
 most extent, to hear, over and over again, 
 these ever new, and ever delightful, 
 details. 
 
 By degrees, these chivalrous and ro- 
 mantic relations became the sole subjects 
 on which she would hear Ursula talk, 
 and she early acquired, from the delighted
 
 CONCEALMENT. 209 
 
 ntirse, sufficient acquaintance with the 
 Spanish language to enable her to read, 
 with her assistance, many of the most 
 extravagant romances, which had long 
 been old, even in the youthful days of 
 Ursula. 
 
 This ill-judging instructor seemed to 
 retrace those days while talking to her 
 young favourite, — whose lively imagina- 
 tion it was her delight to see heated by 
 the romantic enthusiasm of the Spanish 
 writers. Julia was tall for her age, and 
 the ingenious fancy and partiality of Ur- 
 sula led her to discover a slight simila- 
 rity in her countenance to Donna Isa- 
 bella, except that the latter possessed 
 more habitual sweetness of expression ; 
 so that Julia, when she looked proud, she 
 said, made her think more of Don 
 Lerma. These comparisons never failed 
 to delight Julia; who had not yet re- 
 marked, that every thing, and everybody, 
 who happened to please Ursula, imme- 
 diately, in her imagination, bore some
 
 210 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 resemblance to Spain, or her Spanish 
 friends. 
 
 Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham 
 were not sufficiently aware of the mis- 
 chievous tendency of Ursula's conversa- 
 tions and instructions, having contented 
 themselves with strictly forbidding her 
 ever to converse with the children on the 
 subject of religion. They were well 
 pleased that Julia should be gratified in 
 her wish to learn Spanish ; and they had 
 often been entertained by seeing the dig- 
 nified gravity with which, taught by 
 Ursula, and assisted by a well-plumed 
 hat and Spanish cloak, Julia personated 
 the Castilian cavalier, and even the seri- 
 ous pompous hidalgo himself. 
 
 Thus unchecked, the mind of Julia, by 
 the time she had attained her sixteenth 
 year, had acquired a romantic character, 
 which frequently exposed her to the 
 good-humoured ridicule of Edward Byng- 
 ham and Caroline ; while Frederick af- 
 fectionately joined with Mr. Byngham
 
 CONCEALMENT, 211 
 
 and Lady Montrevor in gently endeavour- 
 ing to repress an exuberance of spirits, 
 and a too lively imagination. They also 
 sought to check in her an occasional 
 expression of haughtiness in her carriage 
 and manner, which did not do justice to 
 her heart. 
 
 To the natural or acquired defects 
 that marked the unfolding mind of our 
 Julia, one might also be added, not so 
 visible to the eye of her instructors, and 
 consequently more likely to remain un- 
 corrected ; namely, a degree of indepen- 
 dence of character, which, however com- 
 mendable in the other sex, is a most 
 dangerous trait in the mind of a young 
 wonian. The origin of this sentiment, 
 we (to whom the earliest emotions of 
 Julia's heart were known) can trace to a 
 memorable lesson given by Mr. Dermont 
 to Frederick, when his sister was present, 
 and they were both but little more than 
 children. 
 
 'J You cannot, my dear boy,'* said this
 
 212 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 excellent man, " accustom yourself too 
 early to examine closely, not only your 
 every word and action, but also the se- 
 cret springs and motives of those words 
 and actions. Learn even now to descend 
 into your own heart at the close of every 
 day, and, shutting out the world, call 
 yourself to a strict and impartial account 
 for all that is past since the morning. In 
 the silence of that sacred hour, the still 
 small voice of conscience will easily be 
 heard. The praise and censure of your 
 friends, or even of the whole world, will 
 then be of little avail. By the decision 
 of the judge self-enthroned in your bosom, 
 you must abide. If there condemned, 
 nothing is left you but repentance, repa- 
 ration, if in your power, and firm reso- 
 lutions to do wrong no more. But if, 
 during this scrutiny of your actions and 
 intentions, your heart acquits you, forti- 
 fied by that surest of all testimonies, the 
 censure or approbation of others, will be 
 indiiferent to you; and, nobly rising
 
 CONCEALMENT. 213 
 
 above the opinions of mankind, you will 
 despise the false judgment they may be 
 led to form of your actions, from igno- 
 rance of your motives. In the approba- 
 tion of heaven and your conscience, vir- 
 tue will ever find the reward which an 
 ill-judging world may refuse ; for, ' If 
 our own heart condemn u^ not, then have 
 we confidence towards God.' " 
 
 In this manner did this worthy pre- 
 ceptor endeavour to kindle in the ductile 
 mind of youth, the steady fiame of virtue, 
 which had through life burnt in his own 
 bosom, and shown in his intercourse with 
 mankind. To Mr. Dermont might in- 
 deed, with strict justice, be applied these 
 beautiful lines of Cowper : 
 
 " His eye was meek and gentle, and a smile 
 
 Played on his lips; and in his speech was heard 
 
 Paternal sweetness, dignity, and love; 
 
 The occupation dearest to his heart 
 
 Was to encourage goodness. He would stroke 
 
 The head of modest and ingenuous worth, 
 
 That blushed at its own praise ; and press the youth 
 
 Close to his side that pleased him."
 
 214 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 How frail and how perverse is human 
 nature ! Little did Mr. Dermont suspect 
 that instructions, dictated by such pure 
 and warm benevolence, could produce 
 any but kindred dispositions. Yet so it 
 unfortunately proved. 
 
 While the soul of Frederick, which, by 
 judicious and constant culture, had soared 
 far beyond the age of childhood, received 
 these instructive invigorating truths with 
 the happiest effects ; in that of Julia they 
 mixed with seeds of error, that, spring- 
 ing up, choked and impeded the growth 
 of reason and virtue. 
 
 Julia had been on the above occasion 
 a most attentive listener ; and, young as 
 she was, her already ardent mind and 
 prematurely heated imagination, caught, 
 and stopped short, at some words con- 
 veying sentiments congenial to her ill- 
 directed feelings. Imperfect as her com- 
 prehension of the subject was, she yet 
 collected materials on which to graft an
 
 CONCEALMENT. 215^ 
 
 erroneous principle of action ; and, if she 
 did not daily subject her conduct to the 
 examination suggested by her respected 
 friend, she certainly from that day seldom 
 experienced reproof or censure, from her 
 friends, that she did not most diligently 
 apply herself to consider if she had not 
 intended to act rightly. When then she 
 discovered (which was very easy for so 
 partial an examiner to do) that her in- 
 tention had not been to do wrong, and 
 that her motives had been misconstrued, 
 she would recollect Mr. Dermont's words, 
 and proudly cherish the persuasion, that, 
 as her heart did not condemn her, all 
 must be right ; an idea fraught with 
 much danger for a character, in which 
 enthusiasm and a romantic turn were 
 already visible. 
 
 Still, however, with all her faults, 
 Julia Lawrence was, in every respect, a 
 very lovely girl. Her personal attrac- 
 tions were highly captivating, and every 
 charm of the most expressive countenance,
 
 216 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 was heightened by a vivacity of charac- 
 ter, which could not but increase the 
 love of her friends, though her thought- 
 less volatility occasionally awakened their 
 fears. 
 
 Towards Mr. Byngham and his sister, 
 who had so ably replaced a mother^s 
 care, Julia's heart beat with love and 
 gratitude ; and, whenever she inadvert- 
 ently incurred their disapprobation, 
 (which was not unfrequently the case,) 
 her grief, like every other affection, was 
 violent till reinstated in their favour. 
 To the more than fraternal affection of 
 her brother, she answered with corre- 
 »ponding warmth, overlooking up to him 
 with tender deference, as her dear and 
 only relative, and the indulgent monitor 
 from whose superior sense and judgment, 
 she had much to learn and nothino; to 
 fear. There were few femala accom- 
 plishments in which Julia did not greatly 
 excel, but such was her dislike to all re- 
 straint and application, that she was
 
 CONCEALMENT. 217 
 
 much more indebted for many of those 
 accompUshments to the persevering 
 attention of her instructress, and her 
 natural abilities, than to any continued 
 efforts of her own. 
 
 In a heart and disposition such as we 
 have described, it will easily be ima- 
 gined there existed much lively friendship 
 towards Caroline, though there was but 
 little similarity in their characters. In 
 Miss Montrevor a form of delicate sym- 
 metry was united to a face of much 
 beauty. Her attachment to Julia Law- 
 rence was considerable, but partaking of 
 her natural character, which was of a 
 graver cast than that of her friend. Often 
 was she rallied for this gravity by Julia, 
 whose liveliness she, in her turn, attempt- 
 ed to restrain ; and, being much more 
 her senior in steadiness than in age, 
 would sometimes venture to remonstrate 
 on her want of reflection. These friendly 
 representations were always received by 
 Julia with affected seriousness and real
 
 2l8 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 good-humour ; and, if they availed but 
 little towards her amendment, they never 
 excited a moment's anger, or vreakened, 
 in the slightest degree, the tenderness 
 vrhich had subsisted between them from 
 their first meeting. In fine, Julia's dis- 
 position and temper were formed to 
 secure to her the hearts of all who knew 
 her. Deservedly, then, was she beloved 
 by her kind guardian and his sister ; who, 
 while they admired the lively sensibility 
 and generous warmth that marked her 
 character, felt apprehensive lest she might 
 one day suffer from the indulgence of 
 qualities that now appeared both graceful 
 and amiable.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 You have often 
 
 Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt 
 And left me to a bootless inquisition." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Edward Byngham (as Lady Montrevor 
 had foretold,) improved in health and 
 personal appearance ; but, with respect 
 to his mental acquirements, his father 
 experienced considerable disappointment. 
 Edward's capacity was, in truth, by no 
 means above mediocrity ; but, apparently 
 with a view to remedy any deficiency in 
 intellect, Nature seemed to have instilled 
 into his mind, even at a very early age, 
 an unusual share of cunning and cir- 
 cumspection. With a constitutional 
 cheerfulness, and apparent good temper, 
 he was enabled effectually to conceal the 
 mean selfishness and unamiable passions 
 l2
 
 220 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 of his mind. About the age when we 
 are led to believe that the heart and un- 
 derstanding receive their first, and often 
 most indelible, impressions, the son of 
 Mr. Byngham w^as, from a combination of 
 unfortunate circumstances, deprived of 
 that attention only to be found in a mo- 
 ther's care ; for even a father's watchful- 
 ness is scarcely equal to the task. Mrs. 
 Byngham had neither ability, virtue, or 
 inclination, for the undertaking ; and her 
 husband was either too young to under- 
 stand the importance of those early days, 
 or too uncomfortable himself to feel cou- 
 rage sufficient for the necessary exertion. 
 Edward was, therefore, sent to school, — 
 where every care was taken of his health 
 and safety ; a few hours of the day he 
 spent in thumbing his book, and the rest 
 were yielded up to himself to be got rid 
 of in the best manner the child was able. 
 No intelligent friend was there to meet 
 the expanding idea, gratify the infantine 
 inquiry, or correct the erroneous concep-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 221 
 
 tions. No wonder, then, if, under such 
 circumstances, the mind long remains a 
 blank; and happy would it be for the 
 possessor, if the evil consisted only in the 
 temporary privation of knowledge and 
 virtue ; but, unfortunately, the activity of 
 the human intellect cannot be long sus- 
 pended, and will infallibly take a wrong 
 direction, if unchecked by the restraints 
 of early and judicious culture; and the 
 seeds of vice, sown at this time, too often 
 take root, and, in after-days, shoot out 
 into plants of poisonous growth. 
 
 W4 should be sorry to believe that the 
 diseases of the mind are entailed upon 
 posterity as frequently as those of the 
 body ; but it is more than probable, that 
 Edward Byngham owed some of the un- 
 amiable dispositions of his mind to the 
 want of virtuous principles and steadiness 
 of character in his mother. We have, 
 however, no hesitation in thinking, that, 
 had Mr. Byngham taken his son under 
 
 his own control, on his separation from 
 l3 .
 
 fi22 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 his wife, precept and example might have 
 corrected the evil tendencies of nature. 
 But, as it was, Edward, comparatively 
 neglected, (for he was only with Lady 
 Montrevor at the time of the holidays,) 
 imbibed or strengthened those faults and 
 disposition, which it was afterwards 
 more easy to conceal than amend. When 
 first the little twins became known to 
 him, he experienced all the pleasure of 
 his age, at having companions in his 
 amusements when at home. But it was 
 not long before his heart felt the gnaw- 
 ing pang of envy. His father, Lady 
 Montrevor, Mr. Dermont, and even his 
 cousin Caroline, loved Frederick Law- 
 rence, and he began to fear he would 
 soon be preferred to himself. Still, how- 
 ever, it was only a childish sensation, 
 which might have been subdued, had it 
 been observed : but, already ashamed of 
 the sentiment, Edward checked the ap- 
 pearance of it; and thus, like a slow 
 kindling fire, it gathered strength with
 
 CONCEALMENT. 223 
 
 his years, and the increasing merit of its 
 object. 
 
 Frederick's good quaUties were, how- 
 ever, not of an overbearing nature ; and 
 his unassuming nature, and total absence 
 of every selfish feeling, constantly excited 
 a prejudice in his favour, — from which 
 even Edward, who often eyed him as a 
 successful rival, could not always defend 
 himself. Of Julia, Edward felt no jea- 
 lousy ; and he therefore yielded, without 
 reservation, to those agreeable sensations 
 which her lively qualities inspired. 
 
 Caroline and Edward had from child- 
 hood been much attached to each other, 
 and had thus gradually excited in their 
 parents the wish of seeing them, here- 
 after, still more closely united. This 
 wish. Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham, 
 however, carefully concealed from the 
 young people concerned ; that they might 
 not be induced to think it was intended 
 to exert any undue influence over their 
 inclinations. To Lord Montrevor, Mr. 
 l4
 
 224 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Byngham had once slightly alluded to 
 such a connexion ; and, as at that time 
 his lordship had a pressing occasion for 
 Mr. Byngham 's assistance, in settling a 
 debt contracted at the gaming-table, he 
 assured him, without entering into parti- 
 culars, that any arrangement, calculated 
 to strengthen a friendship he so much 
 valued, would be certain of his concur- 
 rence. 
 
 Sheltered, instructed, beloved, by the 
 several friends we have described, and 
 enjoying many advantages from rather a 
 populous neighbourhood, our orphan- 
 twins attained their eighteenth year. 
 To this period Julia had long looked for- 
 ward with considerable impatience; as, 
 till that time, she was not permitted to 
 appear in those parties, both at Arling- 
 ham and in the neighbourhood, where 
 Miss Montrevor had, some time before, 
 made her debut 
 
 - On these mortifying occasions, Julia 
 .generally paid a visit to Miss Huntley,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 225 
 
 whose utmost stretch of invention and 
 kindness could not always succeed in 
 making the former forget that Caroline, 
 though but a year older than herself, was 
 enjoying those pleasures which fancy 
 painted in such glowing colours. Miss 
 Huntley, though many years older than 
 Julia, was still young enough to enter 
 into her feelings ; and was thus enabled 
 to console, while she instructed. At the 
 age of fourteen, this young woman had 
 nearly fallen a victim to her mother's 
 prejudice against inoculation. She was 
 seized with the small-pox ; from which, 
 after a severe struggle, she recovered, 
 but with the loss of much of her former 
 beauty. With a mind already well in*- 
 formed, and an amiable disposition, she 
 lamented this misfortune far less than her 
 parents ; particularly her mother, who 
 never ceased to accuse herself as the 
 cause of the sad alteration in the appear- 
 ance of her daughter. 
 
 From that time. Miss Huntley, with 
 l6
 
 226 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 good sense and fortitude, applied herself 
 to the cultivation of her mind; which 
 was soon stored with more than common 
 female knowledge, and many desirable 
 accomplishments. The vicinity of Brook-^ 
 dale Parsonage (Mr. Huntley's resi- 
 dence,) to Arlingham, produced the most 
 friendly intimacy between the two fami- 
 lies. Indeed, Lady Montrevor enter- 
 tained for Miss Huntley the sincerest 
 regard, and had often been obliged by 
 her assistance in the education of her 
 daughter and Julia, who considered Miss 
 Huntley as a friend whose virtues and 
 manners they could not too closely 
 imitate. 
 
 The impatience of Julia to mix in ge- 
 neral company met with a trying check, 
 just as she was on the point of having 
 her wishes gratified. Lady Montrevor 
 was suddenly attacked by a lingering 
 nervous illness, that for nearly a year in- 
 capacitated her for all society, — except- 
 ing that of her family, and a few intimate
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 22t 
 
 friends. The disappointment of our he- 
 roine was, however, soon forgotten in her 
 anxiety respecting the amiable woman 
 whom she so tenderly loved ; and, in lieu 
 of seeking her own amusement, her most 
 cheerful study, during this season of se- 
 clusion, was how she could make herself 
 and her talents of service to Lady Mon- 
 trevor ; while the latter sought to render 
 this unavoidable retirement as profitable 
 to her daughter and Julia as was possi- 
 ble, by her instructions. 
 
 At the commencement of this illness, 
 Lord Montrevor experienced the greatest 
 uneasiness, and his attention to his wife 
 was affectionate and unremitting; but 
 soon, with his natural instability, these 
 attentions and restraints became irksome 
 to him, and he gradually resumed his 
 usual habits. 
 
 The time was now approaching when 
 Frederick was to accompany young 
 Byngham to Oxford, and commence his
 
 228 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 residence at the University, previous to 
 his study of the law, — a profession for 
 which he had decided. 
 
 Frederick and his sister had, at an 
 early age, expressed a natural curiosity 
 on the subject of their parents; which 
 Mr. Byngham had partly evaded : telling 
 them, simply, that their mother was his 
 particular friend, that she had married 
 abroad, and became a widow before their 
 birth. 
 
 As Frederick grew older, this general 
 information was by no means sufficiently 
 satisfactory ; and he sought, by repeated 
 inquiries, to obtain further particulars 
 respecting his family. At length Mr. 
 Byngham was obliged to acknowledge, 
 that of Mr. Lawrence he had never 
 known more than his name ; that he had 
 accidentally become acquainted with 
 Mrs. Lawrence after the death of her 
 husband, — when her character and vir- 
 tues had commanded his admiration and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 229 
 
 friendship; that he had been with her in 
 her dying hour, and had accepted the 
 guardianship of her children. 
 
 These communications, extorted from 
 Mr. Byngham, and made with consider- 
 able agitation and confusion, struck Fre- 
 derick very forcibly; and, feeling indefinite 
 suspicions rising in his mind, he hastened 
 to question his friend and instructor, on 
 a subject which had hitherto disappointed 
 his most anxious inquiries. Mr. Der- 
 mont, easily reading in our hero's coun- 
 tenance his perturbation, judged this w^as 
 not a favourable time for the unreserved 
 disclosure, which Lady Montrevor, Mr. 
 Byngham, and himself, had always con- 
 sidered would be unavoidable when 
 Frederick's years and judgment w^ere 
 more matured. Still, therefore, wishing 
 to spare his feelings, and delay an expla- 
 nation, which, — being involved in much 
 mystery, and so many suspicious appear- 
 ances, — could not fail to harass his mind, 
 Mr. Dermont endeavoured gently to check
 
 230 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 his awakened curiosity. Wliile, then, he 
 avoided all misrepresentations, he spoke 
 with such deliberation and apparent open- 
 ness of Mrs. Lawrence, of Mr. Byngham's 
 steady friendship for her, and of that 
 gentleman's paternal affection for her 
 children, that his pupil's unsettled suspi- 
 cions were, for the time, wholly lost in 
 the warmth of gratitude and regard for 
 the man who had protected his own and 
 Julia's infancy. 
 
 These sentiments were, indeed, deeply 
 impressed on his mind ; but still the 
 anxious desire to discover some family 
 connexion or natural tie recurred: till, 
 remarking that even the most trifling 
 questions from himself and Julia, on the 
 subject, were answered w^ith seeming 
 mystery and hesitation, he felt a dr^ad 
 of secret misfortune, and resolved to 
 postpone all farther inquiries, till he had 
 reached an age when his friends would 
 themselves confess he had a right to de- 
 mand all thje information in their power
 
 CONCEALMENT. 231 
 
 to give. In the mean time, he carefully 
 concealed from his sister a subject that 
 so often occupied his thoughts, and 
 which, from its nature and interest, was 
 not calculated to restrain the wanderings 
 of his imagination, and, consequently, 
 often bewildered him in useless con- 
 jectures. 
 
 Happy and unsuspecting, thoughtless 
 and high-spirited, Julia, pre-occupied 
 with the amusements of the present hour, 
 had perceived nothing extraordinary in 
 the account that had been given her of a 
 father she had never known, and a mo- 
 ther she had long ceased to remember ; 
 and, when she occasionally asked any 
 questions relative to them, the answers 
 she received had but little interest for 
 her. She was, indeed, fully content with 
 the present. The endearments of kin- 
 dred were supplied to her by the kind 
 circle with which she was surrounded, 
 and she felt no disappointments but those 
 which were light and of momentary du-
 
 232 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ration : dreading no evils, and even un- 
 conscious of their existence, she enjoyed 
 life with its new and smiling prospects, 
 and hesitated not to deck it in the gay 
 colours of youthful imagination. Thus 
 the embarrassment of Lady Montrevor or 
 her brother, on such occasions, if it 
 existed, had ever escaped her notice ; a 
 circumstance highly pleasing to Frede- 
 rick, whose affectionate heart was most 
 anxious to guard that of his sister from 
 every approach to disquiet or unhap- 
 piness. 
 
 Zealous for the improvement of his 
 promising pupil, Mr. Dermont had re- 
 solved to keep him as long as possible 
 under his own eye: but Frederick looked 
 forward w^ith much satisfaction to his 
 removal to college, as he already felt very 
 desirous of qualifying himself to enter on 
 a profession in which he hoped to dis- 
 tinguish himself, and gratify those friends, 
 particularly Mr. Dermont, who had so 
 ably assisted his studies. Still the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 233 
 
 thought of parting, though only for a few 
 months, from Julia, was a cause of the 
 most painful sensations. 
 
 Lady Montrevor was at length happily 
 restored to health; and it was settled 
 that Julia should be formally introduced 
 at a ball the Earl of Ashmore was to 
 give to the neighbourhood, in honour of 
 his son's birth-day : and Lord Carlmaine 
 was expected in Devonshire, after an 
 absence of three years, spent on the Con- 
 tinent, with his cousin Mr. Selwyn. The 
 return of these young men was a subject 
 of great satisfaction to the youthful part 
 of the family at Arlingham, as well as to 
 their noble relatives at Brookdale. Julia 
 lono-ed to see what alteration foreio:n air 
 had produced on the travellers. Lord 
 Carlmaine, she had no doubt, would be 
 more agreeable than ever ; but she prog- 
 nosticated, that neither Paris nor Flo- 
 rence would improve the cold, impene- 
 trable, serious Selwyn. 
 
 *'At least," said she to Caroline, *^I
 
 234 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 hope he will have learnt to dress a little 
 better.— Do you remember how like a 
 quaker's his clothes were made, and how 
 he used to laugh at Edward about the 
 little wooden man his tailor sent him, 
 equipped in the last new fashion ]" 
 
 *^ Yes," said Caroline ; ** I recollect he 
 took much pains to check Edward's 
 attention to dress. It was kindly meant, 
 and so were the lectures he sometimes 
 read a certain giddy girl." 
 
 "True: he was occasionally seized 
 with the odd fancy of forming me after 
 his own solemn model ; but, I believe, he 
 gave up the enterprise in despair before 
 he left Devonshire. To console him, 
 however, he will find my brother has 
 improved so much by his lessons during 
 his absence, that he is grown almost 
 dismal. But now, dear Caroline, let us 
 speak of your cousin : why did he not 
 come home last week with his father ]" 
 
 "Lord Carlmaine and Mr. Selwyn 
 prevailed on him to wait for them, as
 
 CONCEALMENT, 235 
 
 they wished to spend a short time in 
 town before they came down here ; and 
 Edward, you know, has no objection to 
 a Httle London gaiety." 
 
 " Well, you are very reasonable in all 
 your affections ; and I hope, if ever I am 
 in love, I shall behave as prettily : but I 
 beg your pardon, my dear, I remember 
 you told me, the other day, there was no- 
 thing serious between yotl and Edward." 
 
 Miss Montrevor, in the assertion Julia 
 alluded to, deceived either herself or her 
 friend. Her heart was certainly attach- 
 ed, in a serious degree, to her cousin ; to 
 whose selfishness of disposition, and real 
 want of energy of character, she was 
 wholly blind : particularly, as he had 
 always shewn a marked preference for 
 her, which fully sanctioned and encou- 
 raged her own wishes, as well as those of 
 Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham,
 
 286 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 ** He is all warmth, all amiable fire, 
 All quick heroic ardour! temper'd soft 
 With gentleness of heart and manly reason." 
 
 THOMSON. 
 
 To the approaching entertainment at 
 Brookdale, the whole of the surrounding 
 neighbourhood was invited : Lady Elea- 
 nor Carlmaine having determined to 
 welcome the return of a nephew she 
 idolized with the greatest eclat ; and she 
 was gratified at learning, that on^ of the 
 Miss Thorntons, with Miss Lawrence, 
 and several other young ladies^ would, 
 from that night, date their introduction 
 into life. 
 
 By none of these fair expectants were 
 the pleasures of the evening so impa- 
 tiently anticipated as by Julia. At her 
 solicitation, the arrangement of her own
 
 CONCEALMENT. 237 
 
 and Miss Montrevor's dress, (which it 
 was agreed should correspond,) was en- 
 trusted to her taste ; and, for the first 
 time in her life, she sat down seriously to 
 study what would be most elegant and 
 becoming. 
 
 Ursula, by the means already described, 
 had established with our heroine a great 
 reputation for taste and imagination; and 
 the result of two whole days' close confine- 
 ment was an ancient splendid Spanish cos- 
 tume, in which Julia, half delighted and 
 half ashamed, appeared before her friends. 
 To her it was, indeed, singularly be- 
 coming, but was condemned by Lady 
 Montrevor, — who reminded her, that she 
 was not going to a masquerade; and 
 Caroline said, she should not be able to 
 walk, much less dance, in such a cum- 
 brous dress. Julia would now willingly 
 have resigned a self-imposed task ; de- 
 claring, she should like any drass her 
 friend would fix on: but to this Caroline
 
 238 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 would not consent; and Ursula was 
 again consulted. 
 
 Many new experiments were made ; 
 till at length, wearied with the study, she 
 fixed on a silver-sprigged muslin, which 
 Mr. Byngham had lately given to his 
 niece and herself. Thus was this im- 
 portant affair settled to the satisfac- 
 tion of all parties : Julia protesting, she 
 would never again attempt to fancy a 
 ball dress. 
 
 "You have, indeed, my dear," said 
 Lady Montrevor, "given yourself a world 
 pf unnecessary trouble, from the mistaken 
 idea that, what is generally understood 
 h^ fancy was necessary on this occasion. 
 You sought to produce, for Caroline and 
 yourself, an effect, — from which, had you 
 even succeeded, you would have lost 
 much more than you could possibly have 
 gained. You are neither of you vain, or 
 improperly fond of dress : why, then, so 
 slander yourselves as to proclaim, to a
 
 CONCEALMENT. 239 
 
 numerous assembly, that your imagina- 
 tion has been racked, and your time 
 consumed, in so unprofitable a manner 1 
 Let your taste in dress, as in every thing 
 else, be chaste, and exercised with mo- 
 desty and moderation ; and never seek to 
 acquire distinction by such humiliating 
 means. Your art, on these occasions, 
 ought to consist in avoiding the extremes 
 of affected negligence, and of studied 
 ornament. No precise rules can be 
 given : the delicate perception of a well- 
 cultivated mind, — which is taste, — must 
 direct you." 
 
 A hasty flush of momentary resentment 
 suffused the countenance of Julia; for 
 she thought the reproof too severe : but 
 her sense and love for Lady Montrevor 
 immediately suppressed the rising dissa- 
 tisfaction ; and, kissing her instructress, 
 she thanked her for the kind admonition, 
 and promised she would redouble her 
 efforts to form her taste on all subjects 
 according to her directions. Lady Mon-
 
 240 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 trevor affectionately pressed her and 
 Caroline to her bosom, saying, they were 
 equally dear to her, and that she had no 
 doubt they would both justify her 
 affection. 
 
 Lady Montrevor was perfectly sincere 
 in these professions of her regard. No 
 selfish jealousy combated in her mind the 
 affection that years had increased for the 
 interesting orphan, for whose early esta- 
 blishment she was particularly anxious. 
 From a minute study of Julia's heart and 
 character, she had discovered great sen- 
 sibility and vivacity ; which, united with 
 an independence and haughtiness of spi- 
 rit, she was inclined to fear might, under 
 her peculiar circumstances, be the source 
 of disappointments and misfortunes, un- 
 less the warmth of her affections were 
 early concentrated in the duties of a 
 wedded life. 
 
 Much did she, therefore, wish, that 
 the uncommon grace and beauty of her 
 person, and the attractions of her mind,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 241 
 
 might happily fix the attention of some 
 estimable man, whom a knowledge of 
 the virtues of her heart could not fail to 
 attach. These, also, were the views of 
 Mr. Byngham ; who anxiously looked 
 forward to the period, when, having re- 
 signed her to the love and protection of 
 a man of worth and character, he might 
 congratulate himself on having effectually 
 secured her against the possibility of ex- 
 periencing similar misfortunes to those 
 of which her mother appeared to have 
 been the victim. Partly, perhaps, from 
 her great resemblance to that mother, 
 and partly from her own engaging man- 
 ners, Julia had become daily more dear 
 to his heart ; and no father ever watched 
 with more solicitude over the improve- 
 ments and welfare of a beloved child, 
 than he did over this daughter of his 
 adoption. 
 
 Nor was the interest he felt for Fre- 
 derick less parental, though perhaps 
 somewhat less tender ; and he was fully 
 
 M
 
 242 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 resolved to spare neither exertion nor 
 money to further his success in the pro- 
 fession he had chosen. 
 
 Lord Montrevor was at this time at 
 Arlingham, having been accompanied 
 from town by several of his gay asso- 
 ciates. Without such guests he, indeed, 
 seldom visited Devonshire ; having pre- 
 served, amidst a hfe of general dissipa- 
 tion and Hcentiousness, sufficient remains 
 of virtuous feeling to induce him to avoid, 
 as much as possible, being alone with 
 the woman, whose happiness he was 
 conscious he had destroyed ; and whose 
 virtues, while they bitterly, though ta- 
 citly, reproached him, he still admired 
 and respected. 
 
 On the appearance of Miss Montrevor 
 and Julia in the drawing-room previous 
 to their departure for Brookdale, they 
 drew forth, from Lord Montrevor's 
 friends, the most flattering expressions 
 of admiration. 
 
 Lady Montrevor's maternal pride and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 243 
 
 affection were much gratified on remark- 
 ing the undisguised deHght with which 
 her husband led his daughter to a seat ; 
 saying, in a whisper to his wife, *' Upon 
 my soul, Charlotte, I think our Caroline 
 grown almost handsome during my 
 absence." 
 
 "The pleasure of seeing you may add 
 much to her good looks," said Lady Mon- 
 trevor, as, for a moment, she cherished the 
 hope, that affection for an only child might 
 possibly again render his home attractive. 
 But this virtuous sufferer had yet to learn, 
 that, if the warmth of social affections is 
 chilled, and the ties of kindred loosened 
 by the indulgence of any one evil pro- 
 pensity ; the life of a libertine and game- 
 ster extinguishes and severs them for 
 ever. Self gradually becomes the idol to 
 which every generous feeling and spark 
 of early virtue are sacrificed, and all re- 
 gard to the happiness and interest of 
 others is lost in the pursuit of gratifica- 
 tions, which are forced by custom upon 
 m2
 
 244 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the palled appetite, — wearied with the 
 fruitless endeavour of renewing that 
 short-lived, licentious pleasure, which 
 first accompanied them. 
 
 To this fatal acme of guilt, Lord Mon- 
 trevor was making but too rapid strides ; 
 and, while the fond mother was enjoying 
 the approving smiles Caroline received 
 from her father, that degenerate father 
 was anticipating for her some conquest 
 of importance, which might add to his 
 consequence, and assist his increasing 
 necessities. 
 
 Equally, therefore, regardless of his 
 daughter's happiness, and the views re- 
 specting young Byngham, which he had, 
 hitherto, appeared to sanction, he deter- 
 mined to bestow her on the first man of 
 distinction likely to answer his purpose. 
 
 It may appear strange, that, with these 
 plans. Lord Montrevor should have per- 
 mitted Julia (who might be a formidable 
 rival, and defeat his hopes,) to accom- 
 pany his daughter on public occasions :
 
 CONCEALMENT. 245 
 
 but he was very largely indebted to Mr. 
 Byngham for various pecuniary accom- 
 modations, and, as he was aware it 
 would never be in his power to cancel 
 these debts, he was willing to pay him 
 in attentions he knew would be highly 
 valued. The influence of these conside- 
 rations was also increased by the en- 
 gaging qualities of Julia, and by the 
 great partiality which her fascinating 
 manners and playful vivacity excited. 
 
 When the carriages were announced, 
 and Edward Byngham had already taken 
 the hand of his cousin, Julia remarked 
 that Frederick was to have joined the 
 party at Arlingham before dinner; and 
 still he was not yet come. Mr. Byngham 
 now made inquiries of Edward, who said 
 Frederick and he had spent much of the 
 morning together ; and that he had left 
 him, some hours before dinner, to write 
 out a piece of music for his sister. The 
 servants were then questioned ; but no 
 one had seen him since two o'clock^ 
 M 3
 
 246 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 when he had been observed writing in a 
 temple, at some distance from the house. 
 Lord Montrevor said, he supposed Fre- 
 derick must have returned home to dress, 
 and proposed that the party should pro- 
 ceed to Brookdale, whither he would 
 follow with Mr. Byngham. To this 
 Lady Montrevor would have consented ; 
 but, casting her eyes on Julia, she per- 
 ceived, from her varying colour, that she 
 was much agitated. *'Why are you 
 alarmed, my dearl" said she, approach- 
 ing, and in a low voice: '' Frederick will 
 certainly be here very soon, and we will 
 not go till he comes." 
 
 ^' Dear madam, I am not alarmed : but 
 he promised to be with me this first 
 night ; and I feel — I think — I could enjoy 
 nothing without him. He is, you know, 
 my only relation ; and he has thought so 
 much of my introduction." 
 
 As she uttered these words, tears of 
 sensibility and affection glistened in her 
 eyes; but they were at that moment
 
 CONCEALMENT. 247 
 
 arrested by the voice of Frederick, who, 
 making a hasty apology to Lady Mon- 
 trevor, seized, with tremulous grasp, the 
 hand of his sister, and, having placed her 
 in the carriage with her protectress, took 
 his seat in that of Mr. Byngham, and the 
 whole party proceeded to Brookdale. 
 
 Julia was now again all happiness, 
 ifevery shade of uneasiness had passed from 
 her brow, and she amused her friends 
 with enumerating the conquests she in- 
 tended to make that evening, little sus- 
 pecting the wretched state of mind 
 under which her brother laboured ; the 
 cause of which we will explain, while 
 our party are journeying towards the gay 
 scenes of Brookdale. 
 
 On parting in the morning with young 
 Byngham, Frederick had withdrawn to a 
 gothic temple, thickly covered with ivy, 
 in a retired part of the grounds ; where 
 he had often spent many studious hoursf, 
 uninterrupted, and where he now sat 
 down to copy a favourite air for Julia. 
 m4
 
 248 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 He had not long been thus employed^ 
 when the following words, uttered by 
 Mr. Byngham, caught his hear : — "I am 
 aware that the sensibility of Frederick 
 will be cruelly wounded ; but do you not 
 think he should be made acquainted with 
 all we know of his unhappy mother be- 
 fore he goes to college?" 
 
 In a moment Frederick's every faculty 
 became arrested. Curiosity, — acute, ago- 
 nizing, — quickly silenced his natural sense 
 of delicacy and honour ; which, on every 
 other occasion, would instantly have 
 prompted him to discover himself. He 
 sat fixed as a statue, fearing that the 
 slightest movement would deprive him of 
 the information he tremblingly believed 
 within his reach, and his very respiration 
 became suspended. 
 
 Mr. Bynghaui and Lady Montrevor 
 now seated themselves on a bench at the 
 entrance of the building, immediately un- 
 der the open window, against which Fre- 
 derick pressed his beating temples.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 249 
 
 *^ Yes," said Lady Montrevor, after a 
 pause : *^ I agree with you ; let him be 
 told all we know of Mrs. Lawrence : but, 
 if possible, conceal for ever, both from 
 him and Julia, what you must confess 
 appear well founded suspicions against 
 her character. Time, while it has abated 
 the warmer feelings of your heart, must 
 by reflection have strengthened in you, 
 as in Mr. Dermont and me, the belief, 
 that these poor children are the offspring 
 of some unfortunate connexion, which 
 deprives them of a father's name." 
 
 " Julia, I think, we could manage, so 
 as to spare her useless regrets and un- 
 happiness;" rejoined Mr. Byngham. '^But 
 I know not how to defend our melancholy 
 secret from the inquiries and penetration 
 of her brother. Mr. Dermont must here 
 assist us." 
 
 At this period of the conversation, a 
 servant came in search of Mr. Byngham 
 with letters ; and he withdrew, with Lady 
 Montrevor, to the house. 
 M 5
 
 250 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Frederick remained, some moments 
 after their departure, immoveable, and 
 gasping for breath. Then, clasping his 
 hands in silent anguish, tears of shame 
 and deep affliction rolled down his burn- 
 ing cheeks. Regaining, at length, the 
 power of utterance, he exclaimed, pas- 
 sionately striking his clenched fist against 
 his forehead, — ''My very worst fears are 
 then confirmed : shame presided at my 
 birth, and will hang through life, as an 
 ignominious clog, around my neck, and 
 check my brightest prospects. A dis- 
 graceful badge for every finger to point 
 at : a black opprobrious stain, never to be 
 effaced. Oh, shame! which tlie grave 
 alone can shroud." 
 
 He now sunk back on a seat, over- 
 powered by the violence of his feelings : 
 the next moment, starting up, he cried, 
 
 «« And Julia, too, must share this load 
 
 of shame our mother has bequeathed us. 
 How will her lofty spirit bear the taunt, 
 t)r still more cutting whisper, of the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 25l 
 
 scornful. Oh ! the pride of innate virtue 
 will never support her. She w^ill sink 
 under this blow. Her vivacity will be 
 struck as by a sudden blast; and her 
 heart, — oh ! yes, her proud, generous, 
 affectionate heart, will surely break." 
 
 Rushing into the air, with the impe- 
 tuosity of passionate grief, he J?truck into 
 an adjoining wood ; where he was long 
 agitated by new and poignant affliction, 
 wholly unable to fix, for a moment, the 
 numerous purposes that thronged in his 
 imagination, and bewildered his mind. 
 
 At length, with something like me- 
 thod, he began ftlowly to arrange his 
 ideas. His first determination was im- 
 mediately to inform Mr. Byngham by 
 what accident he had overheard the late 
 conversation between him and Lady 
 Montrevor ; and to demand a full expla- 
 nation of what had then been said of his 
 mother, and to conjure him no longer to 
 deceive him. 
 
 As he vras hastily returning to the
 
 252 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 house, he recollected the large party he 
 was that day to meet at Lord Mon- 
 trevor's table, and the engagement in the 
 evening. Feeling how ill-timed his ap- 
 plication to Mr. Byngham would now be, 
 and how unfit he himself was to mix with 
 society, he hastened again to seek the 
 concealment of the wood. While, with 
 disordered steps, he walked forward, his 
 mind w^as racked by various schemes for 
 his future life. To his heated, unsettled 
 imagination, the army seemed to offer 
 the readiest and most agreeable mode of 
 glossing over the stigma of his birth ; 
 and he resolved there to court distinction 
 and success. 
 
 His spirit, roused by despair, disdained 
 the slow and laborious means by which, 
 in his youthful dreams of ambition, he 
 had reckoned upon ascending to profes- 
 sional eminence. 
 
 No: he would rush to battle. His 
 trusty sword, when once familiar to his 
 hand, would never deceive him. With
 
 CONCEALMENT. 253 
 
 that he would carve his fortune, and 
 work his way to glory ; and when, after 
 a few short years of toil and danger, he 
 had reached the high pinnacle of renown, 
 who would dare to whisper that his birth 
 was base ! 
 
 It was thus, with the characteristic 
 impetuosity of enthusiastic, high-minded 
 youth, he anticipated and grasped in idea 
 the well-earned honours of a life of me- 
 ritorious service ; without considering 
 the slow and painful steps that must lead 
 to the temple of Fame. On her success- 
 ful votaries his imagination solely fixed ; 
 and difficulties, disappointments, and even 
 lingering time, sunk beneath the ardent 
 impulses of an uncontrolled ambition. 
 
 To stop, however, this tide of visi- 
 onary enthusiasm, the image of his de- 
 serted sister arose to his mind ; and he 
 exclaimed, — ^^ And, if I fall — oh Julia! 
 where will you find one to protect and 
 love you as I do ? I, to whom you are the 
 only tie in life/'
 
 254 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Connected with the idea of Julia, how 
 came the recollection of her present 
 anxiety and disappointment, if he failed 
 to attend her, as he had most gladly pro- 
 mised, to Lord Ashmore's, on this her 
 first introduction. 
 
 He found the hour of dinner had long 
 passed, and the one fixed for their setting- 
 out for Brookdale nearly arrived. Re- 
 gardless of his own feelings, he hurried 
 to the house ; and, having gained the 
 apartment usually assigned him, was 
 soon ready to join the party, who so 
 anxiously waited his arrival. 
 
 While dressing, he had determined to 
 conceal from Julia all he already knew, 
 or might learn, calculated to wound her 
 peace ; which, in this hour of deeply 
 awakened tenderness, he felt henceforth 
 would be far dearer to him than his 
 own. For her loved sake, he also strug- 
 gled to regain some degree of compo- 
 sure ; and, though he was unable to 
 exchange the flushed appearance of his
 
 CONCEALMENT. 256 
 
 countenance, the hurry of his looks, and 
 agitation of his manner, for his usual 
 calmness, — the immediate departure, 
 which took place after his entrance, was 
 in his favour ; and he escaped all parti- 
 cular observation. 
 
 Even Mr. Byngham, who had been 
 rather displeased at his ill-timed ab- 
 sence, allowed it to pass unnoticed ; his 
 own mind, during the drive to Brook- 
 dale, having reverted to scenes long since 
 past, — which Julia's striking resemblance 
 to her mother had this day recalled more 
 forcibly than ever. His late conversation 
 with Lady Montrevor also engrossed 
 much of his reflections : so that our hero 
 had leisure to collect his scattered 
 thoughts, by a manly effort repress his 
 feelings, and acquire sufficient calmness 
 to appear in the group to which they 
 were hastening, though so uncongenial 
 to the present state of his mind.
 
 256 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " The sprightly fiddle, and the sounding lyre, 
 Each youthful hreast with gen'rous warmth inspire ; 
 Fraujiht with all joys, the blissfs!! moments fly, 
 While music melts the ear, and beauty charms the eye. 
 
 DODSLE\. 
 
 At length the moment, so often antici- 
 pated by Julia, arrived ; and, with a 
 heart fluttering between undefined fears, 
 and the expectation of amusement, she 
 was ushered into the princely rooms of 
 Brookdale. 
 
 The earl and his daughter. Lady Maria 
 Carlmaine, received the party on their 
 entrance, — when every faculty of Julia 
 was nearly absorbed in admiration at the 
 brilliant scene before her. Nothing, in- 
 deed, had been spared that could render 
 this entertainment splendid and elegant. 
 The whole arrangement had been left to 
 Lady Eleanor, who consulted a variety of
 
 CONCEALMENT. 257 
 
 modern novels on the subjects of galas 
 and fetes; and sent for several people 
 from town, conversant in these important 
 matters, to assist in embellishing the 
 rooms, — which had been shut up six 
 weeks previous to the occasion. 
 
 The ball-room, in which nearly two 
 hundred persons were soon assembled,was 
 illuminated and decorated with great taste 
 and magnificence. At the upper end was 
 a full-length portrait of Lord Carlmaine, 
 surrounded with variegated lamps; which 
 produced a very dazzling and beautiful 
 effect. Every alternate pannel of the 
 room was filled, in the same manner, 
 with illuminated pictures from the family 
 collection : while the intervening spaces 
 were occupied with stands of natural 
 flowers, backed by large pier glasses ; 
 which, reflecting the various coloured 
 lights from all sides, produced a bril- 
 liancy almost overpowering. Sofas of 
 blue satin, with silver fringe, were placed 
 round the room ; and over each was su&-
 
 258 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 pended a canopy of artificial flowers,-— 
 among which the choicest perfumes of 
 Arabia were burning. 
 
 Lady Maria Carlmaine was a fine ele- 
 gant young woman, with strong dark 
 features, in which little feminine grace 
 or sweetness could be traced. Her ap- 
 pearance and manners were, in general, 
 haughty and unprepossessing ; but, when 
 engaged in conversation, a sudden ex- 
 pression of soul and feeling lighted up her 
 countenance ; and, when she condescend- 
 ed to wish to please, there was a secret 
 charm, an irresistible fascination, that 
 was sure to captivate ; at least, for the 
 time. In the society of her superiors or 
 equals she was silent and reserved ; in 
 that of her inferiors, haughty and forbid- 
 ding ; and, as a natural consequence, she 
 vras an object of almost general dislike in 
 the neighbourhood. 
 
 Early deprived of a mother's care, 
 those employed in her education had 
 never suffered her to feel the slightest
 
 CONCEALMENT. 259 
 
 restraint ; while mercenary and ceaseless 
 adulation had encouraged an overbearing 
 consciousness of birth, talents, and situa- 
 tion, which produced the unamiable 
 appearances of character we have de- 
 scribed. Endowed by Nature with a 
 superior understanding, she looked down 
 with pity and contempt on the weak, and 
 often ridiculous, vanity of her aunt, 
 vv^hich she constantly endeavoured to con- 
 ceal from observation; and, when this 
 could not be done, a dignified reserve of 
 demeanor enabled her to suppress, in 
 others, all expressions calculated to 
 wound the pride of Lady Eleanor, or 
 that were inconsistent with the love 
 which she felt for this indulgent, but 
 silly, relation. 
 
 Her studies, in direct opposition to 
 those pursued by her aunt, had been 
 such as she heard recommended to her 
 brother ; and the earl, having much lei- 
 sure on his hands, willingly indulged her 
 fondness for instruction ; and, being
 
 260 CONCEAI.MENT. 
 
 himself no contemptible scholar, led her 
 young and ardent mind through many of 
 the works of elegant literature, — which, 
 by indefatigable application, she was 
 enabled to read in their original lan- 
 guages. A system of education more 
 suited to the inclination, than advan- 
 tageous to the natural character, of his 
 daughter ; which might have been soft- 
 ened and improved, had a more feminine 
 direction been given to her pursuits. 
 Such, at the age of two-and-twenty, was 
 Lady Maria Carlmaine; who, from re- 
 spect to her father, and affection for a 
 long absent brother, had this evening 
 resolved to lay aside every feeling but the 
 desire to promote the pleasure of the 
 earl's guests. 
 
 For Lady Montrevor, the whole family 
 at Brookdale entertained the just respect 
 due both to her virtues and situation. 
 Our heroine, therefore, under her aus- 
 pices, could not be otherwise than fa- 
 vourably received : but Julia disliked
 
 CONCEALMENT. 261 
 
 Lady Maria, and always felt uncomfort- 
 able in her company ; she was therefore 
 well pleased when, moving on with her 
 party, they left her ladyship to the task 
 of receiving: other visitors. 
 
 Lady Eleanor appeared in high spi- 
 rits ; perfectly satisfied with herself, and, 
 consequently, with all around her. This 
 lady's person was remarkably slender, 
 and of that height which unhappily ad- 
 mits of no medium between eleo^ance 
 and awkwardness ; and it was to be la- 
 mented, that her ladyship's form had by 
 no means been modelled by the graces, 
 any more than her dress had been, on this 
 occasion, fashioned by them. When she 
 first approached Lady Montrevor, and 
 Julia had cast a hasty glance on her 
 dress, she coloured deeply ; for it was so 
 nearly a caricature of the one she had 
 herself first imagined, that it could not 
 escape her observation and comparison. 
 Caroline significantly pressed her arm ; 
 but Lady Montrevor, perceiving her confu-
 
 262 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 sion, noticed the circumstance only by an 
 encouraging smile. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine and Mr. Selwyn had 
 not seen the fair friends of Arlingham 
 since their return, — having only arrived 
 at Brookdale the preceding evening ; and 
 they were now much struck with the 
 great personal improvement a few years 
 had produced in the two lovely girls. 
 This sensation his lordship expressed 
 with all the ease and freedom of a man 
 of nine-and-twenty, just returned from 
 a continental tour, and in the habit of 
 thinking, that to please, was the first and 
 important rule of life, and that, with his 
 female friends more particularly, flattery 
 afforded the surest means of success. 
 
 But Selwyn followed the impulse of 
 his generous nature, approved with sin- 
 cerity, and, as Julia observed, paid no 
 compliments. He had always, during 
 his former residence in Devonshire, taken 
 great notice of Frederick Lawrence ; had 
 corresponded with him while absent; and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 263 
 
 now found all the fair promises the boy 
 had held forth quickly ripening into early 
 manhood. The letters of each had con- 
 tributed to unfold their respective cha- 
 racters, — perhaps as much as their usual 
 intercourse would have done ; and they 
 thus met as friends. Selw'yn was eight- 
 and-twenty, and his young friend only 
 nineteen ; but the mind and character of 
 the latter, by Mr. Dermont's care, had 
 obtained an early maturity by no means 
 usual; and a congeniality of sentiment 
 and ability between Selwyn and Fre- 
 derick promised a lasting friendship. 
 
 Miss Montrevor and her friend excited 
 general admiration. The mild attrac- 
 tions of Caroline were always sure to 
 please ; but, on this occasion, they were 
 certainly somewhat obscured by the still 
 superior loveliness of her companion. 
 Julia, indeed, possessed one great advan- 
 tage over her friend, — her's was a new 
 face to the greatest part of the circle, and 
 certainly appeared this evening arrayed
 
 264 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 in more than its usual beauty; every 
 glowing charm receiving added lustre 
 from the unclouded happiness that smiled 
 at her heart, and shed an irresistible ani- 
 mation over every feature. Dancing 
 was, perhaps, of all amusements, the 
 one most congenial to her taste and feel- 
 ings ; and never vs^as there a form more 
 calculated to excel in that diversion. 
 Lightness of figure, and graceful activity, 
 combined to render her an object of de- 
 lio^hted admiration. She danced, succes- 
 sively, with Lord Carlmaine, Edward 
 Byngham, and several gentlemen of the 
 first consequence in the room ; from w horn 
 she received the extravagant adulations 
 which her youth and vivacity seemed to 
 authorise. Julia (as, perhaps, has already 
 been discovered,) was at best but half a 
 heroine ; we will also confess, that she 
 was far from receiving these flattering 
 distinctions with reserve or indifference. 
 Her heart beat high with pleasure and 
 exultation, which she had neither art nor
 
 CONCEALMENT. 265 
 
 prudence to conceal ; and her spirits be- 
 came so exhilarated, that Lady Mon- 
 trevor, Mr. Byngham, and even Frede- 
 rick, thought proper to remind her, that 
 she was in danger of becoming an object 
 of particular notice, from her extreme 
 gaiety. This, however, was not a time 
 when Julia could attend to such remon- 
 strances ; and once, in answer to Lady 
 Montrevor, she said, pressing her hand 
 between hers, with respectful playful- 
 ness, — '' To have been reasonable in such 
 a delightful scene, indeed, my dear ma- 
 dam, you should have introduced me 
 years ago. This charming night has half 
 turned my poor head ; but have a little 
 patience with me, and, by the time I 
 have been at a dozen such entertain- 
 ments, you may hope to see me as w^ell- 
 behaved as my dear Caroline : till 
 then—" 
 
 "And what till then?" interrupted 
 Frederick, in rather a severe tone. 
 
 ^^Why, till then,'^ returned she, ''1 
 
 N
 
 266 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 doubt my good grave brother must shake 
 his head and frown in vain." 
 
 She then again gave her hand to the 
 delighted Carlmaine; and, tripping gaily 
 away, was lost in the mazy dance : while 
 Frederick, with a sigh he could not sup- 
 press, followed, to keep his eyes and 
 attention fixed upon her. His heart was 
 too acutely alive to the finer touches of 
 sensibility not to have been, under such 
 trying circumstances, variously agitated 
 by the presence of his sister in this splen- 
 did assembly. His bosom throbbed with 
 proud affection, as he beheld every eye 
 turned with admiration towards this ob- 
 ject of his own solicitude : but it beat also 
 ^vith recollections the most painful ; and 
 he blushed to see one thus sought and 
 courted, who, if stripped of the recom- 
 mendations she owed to affectionate 
 benevolence, and her origin known, 
 would, perhapsj be proudly shunned. 
 Fondly, however, he gazed upon her; 
 and, though tears glistened in liis eyes,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 267 
 
 the smile of approbation and pleasure 
 played on his lips, as he beheld, when- 
 ever she approached, the glow of artless 
 satisfaction which animated her counte- 
 nance ; and much did he strengthen him- 
 self in the determination to conceal from 
 her the painful secret that filled his 
 thoughts. 
 
 For him this evening was a sad season 
 of restraint and interruption to the re- 
 flections which struggled for precedence 
 in his still agitated mind. The lingering 
 hours passed unmarked by any plea- 
 surable emotions, except those caught 
 from the cheerful countenance of Julia, 
 or excited by occasional intercourse with 
 Selwyn. With so heavy a load of un- 
 told grief upon his spirits, he felt unable 
 to be more than a passive spectator of 
 the joyous scene ; and, when reproached 
 with condescending smiles by Lady Maria 
 for his unusual inactivity, he shrunk 
 abashed, and, with much confusion, 
 n2
 
 268 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 pleaded indisposition as his excuse. She 
 turned from him with a haughty pene- 
 trating look, and took no farther notice 
 of him during the evening. Frederick 
 thought she seemed displeased, and he 
 felt vexed at the idea ; for he remembered 
 that, when a boy, she had often, by the 
 loan of books or prints, shewn him civi- 
 lity : but this was too trivial a conside- 
 ration to occupy his attention at this 
 time ; and he was anxiously anticipating 
 the hour that should put him in posses^ 
 sion of details he so much wished, yet 
 dreaded, to learn. 
 
 On Caroline, the unmeaning gallantry 
 and fulsome flattery of the pert coxcomb 
 or gay libertine produced no effect. 
 Steeled by an attachment of which she 
 was yet scarcely conscious, she received, 
 with perfect indiff'erence, the attentions 
 of several young men, well calculated to 
 inspire regard; and justly appreciated 
 those common-place encomiums, which
 
 CONCEALMENT. 269 
 
 the forward vanity of one sex is so ready 
 to oiFer, and the easy creduUty of the 
 other so willing to believe. 
 
 Edward had been more than usually 
 assiduous in his attentions to his cousin ; 
 to whom those attentions were hourly 
 becoming of more importance. He was 
 really very partial to Caroline, and was, 
 besides, much gratified by hearing Lord 
 Carlmaine pronounce her a Venus de 
 Medicis. Indeed this young nobleman 
 had already excited in Edward the most 
 unqualified approbation of his manners 
 and appearance. 
 
 Selwyn, on the contrary, had, he 
 thought, returned much as he went, — 
 *^ nothing particular." His person was 
 good, and his face, though not handsome, 
 would have passed : ^'but then," young 
 Byngham added, ''all was spoiled by a 
 total want of every pretension to a 
 fashionable air and address." Unfor- 
 tunately, these were the only qualities 
 n3
 
 270 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 which Edward's observation sought, or 
 upon which his judgment could decide. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. Thornton, with three of 
 their daughters, were also this evening at 
 Brookdale. Miss Thornton, now just 
 turned two-and-twenty, was a beautiful 
 piece of still life, which her anxious mo- 
 ther had for five years carried about, with 
 indefatigable industry and patience, to 
 all the places of public resort and fashion- 
 able entertainment, far and near. Louisa 
 had reposed like a Grecian statue, or 
 glided through the crowd like a fair ap- 
 parition, who sought not communion 
 with mankind. All admired, but few, 
 after a first attempt, ventured to address, 
 this cold piece of natural sculpture. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton's sanguine hopes of a 
 brilliant establishment had been fixed on 
 her eldest daughter ; and, in the pursuit 
 of this object, she had met with so little 
 success, that her disappointment bor- 
 dered on despair. Finding Miss Thorn-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 271 
 
 ton SO provokingly blind to her own in- 
 terest and happiness, she had now trans- 
 ferred all her attention to the second 
 daughter. Jesse was a good-humoured, 
 lively girl, — inheriting, also, a consider- 
 able share of her mother*s beauty. But 
 of Cecilia, the third sister, poor Mrs; 
 Thornton had positively no hope. This 
 young lady was now in her seventeenth 
 year ; and, from her infancy, had been 
 her father's darling. At four years old 
 her brother's large rocking-horse became 
 her constant amusement; which the doc- 
 tor no sooner observed, than a small 
 poney was immediately substituted for 
 her wooden favourite ; and, from that 
 day, Cecilia was frequently his compa- 
 nion. In process of time she became a 
 complete horse-woman, a bold huntress, 
 and even a successful shot ; and, when 
 riding and shooting failed, she would 
 amuse herself with the various arts in- 
 vented to ensnare the finny tribe. Early 
 initiated into all the mysteries of her 
 N 4
 
 272 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 father's stud and kennel, Cecilia could 
 judge, with great quickness and accu- 
 racy, of the requisite qualifications in a 
 horse, for racing, hunting, or the road. 
 She frequently chose to saddle and bridle 
 her own horse ; and it was even added, 
 that she could with great skill perform 
 the operations of bleeding a horse and 
 worming a dog. She had, indeed, re- 
 ceived a most complete training for the 
 above purposes ; for, when her father's 
 more distant engagements interrupted 
 the course of her education, she was con- 
 fided to the care of her brother, who was 
 as capable of directing her improvement 
 as the doctor. 
 
 Thus, in defiance of Mrs. Thornton's 
 remonstrances, entreaties, and alarming 
 prognostications, her husband's plan of 
 cultivating the natural genius of one of 
 his daughters was persevered in; and, 
 while the doctor promised never to in- 
 terfere in the management of her two 
 sisters, he peremptorily declared that his
 
 CONCEALMENT. 273 
 
 little Cecilia should certainly learn to read 
 and write, after which she should be 
 made what Nature intended her, and not 
 spoiled like his other girls. 
 
 What our little Amazon would have 
 proved, had she been subjected to the 
 discipline practised with other young 
 ladies, it is difficult to guess : as she was, 
 her father idolized her; while Mrs. 
 Thornton consoled herself with thinking, 
 that she could never have derived much 
 gratification from modelling such a little, 
 plain, ungraceful creature. Cecilia was 
 small in stature ; and, though the mode 
 of life she led gave her an unusual share 
 of health, strength, spirits, and agility, 
 her complexion had suffered terribly 
 from constant exposure, her back had 
 become round, and her manners rough, 
 though perfectly good-humoured. She 
 entertained great contempt for the pur- 
 suits to which her sisters had been chain- 
 ed ; and often provokingly amused her- 
 self and others, with lively observations 
 N 5
 
 2T4 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 on the result produced in her sister 
 Louisa. She had often congratulated 
 herself on the certainty, that her mother 
 would not be seized with the wish of 
 getting her off, and that she would thus 
 avoid all the tiresome lectures on balls, 
 dress, and conquests, which had already 
 more than half spoiled Jessy. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton would, indeed, gladly 
 have been excused introducino; a dauo^h- 
 ter so little calculated to do her honour ; 
 but the doctor positively said, the invita- 
 tion from Brookdale should not be ac- 
 cepted, unless she went ; having attained 
 the age at which her sisters had been 
 taken into company, and it was but fair 
 she should have the same chance. 
 
 Cecilia herself wished also, as she 
 said, '' to see the thing ;" but nearly re- 
 tracted, when she found all she had to 
 undergo before she was deemed fit to 
 take her seat in the carriage with the 
 other ladies. Unused to any confine- 
 ment, by way of ornament, on her head,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 2^5 
 
 she was constantly unsettling the flowers 
 with which it was decorated ; and, after 
 repeated attempts to fix them, and pro- 
 perly arrange the other parts of her dress, 
 even in the anti-room at Brookdale, Mrs. 
 Thornton had the mortification, soon 
 after their entrance into the ball-room, to 
 see Cecilia's wreath of roses nearly push- 
 ed off her head, her necklace turned the 
 hind part before, and her sash untied, 
 and trailing after her on the ground. 
 
 All these sad improprieties, when im- 
 parted to her in a whisper, gave not the 
 slightest uneasiness to Cecilia, who, 
 perfectly unembarrassed, (except by a 
 new pair of stays, from which she had not 
 been able to defend herself without se- 
 riously displeasing her mother,) walked 
 with her father and Stephen Thornton, 
 through the spacious apartments, much 
 entertained by a scene so entirely new ; 
 and wholly regardless of the amusement 
 her own appearance afforded to the prim 
 young ladies and their wondering beaux.
 
 276 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 To the delicate, sentimental Lady Elea- 
 nor, she appeared a perfect monster, un- 
 fitted for all female and elegant society ; 
 and Lady Maria wondered at the per- 
 version of a human mind, apparently en- 
 dowed with so much energy, and yet so 
 dead to every intellectual pleasure or 
 improvement. 
 
 When requested to dance, Cecilia 
 readily confessed she had never learnt, 
 and ingenuously expressed her astonish- 
 ment at the violent and persevering exer- 
 tions of both sexes, without, as far as she 
 could discover, any purpose. In answer 
 to an inquiry from her father, if the no- 
 velty of the scene did not amuse her, she 
 answered, that it had done so at first ; 
 adding, " I have, however, seen enough 
 of balls now, and for ever : my breathing 
 has been impeded by the heavy air, and 
 close smell of the rooms, ever since I en- 
 tered ; and now my only wish is to get 
 out of them." 
 
 Dr. Thornton fully sympathized in
 
 CONCEALMENT. 277 
 
 these feelings ; and, desiring Stephen to 
 attend his mother and sisters, left this 
 uncongenial scene with all possible haste. 
 When the gay throng appeared to re- 
 lax in dancing, they were invited to re- 
 turn to the saloon, round which sofas 
 were placed, and refreshments of ail 
 descriptions supplied ; and , here Lady 
 Maria, assisted by the earl and her bro- 
 ther, distributed her attention with all 
 the patience and condescension she could 
 command. Lady Eleanor had retired ; 
 fatigued, it was supposed, by having 
 danced a good deal. 
 
 The couch on which, by the exertions 
 of Frederick, Miss Montrevor, with Ju- 
 lia and Miss Huntley, were seated, was 
 soon surrounded by the gentlemen who 
 had most distinguished them during the 
 evening ; among whom was Mr. Fair- 
 bank, a young man of a noble family 
 and large fortune, whose person was too 
 remarkable to pass unnoticed. His sta- 
 ture was diminutive, and his appearance
 
 278 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 a just mirror of his truly contemptible 
 mind ; an attention to dress being nearly 
 the sole object that engrossed it. The 
 occasion of his present visit to Brookdale 
 had been to recommend himself to Lady 
 Maria : but a very few hours convinced 
 him he had no chance of success, and he 
 told his valet the first day, while dress- 
 ing, that " she would not suit ;" and that, 
 in spite of his father's wishes and direc- 
 tions, he should endeavour to please his 
 own taste in another quarter. 
 
 On his subsequent introduction to Miss 
 Montrevor, he fancied he was deeply 
 enamoured of her; and, mistaking the 
 gentle endurance of Caroline for encou- 
 ragement, soon believed he had made 
 great progress in her favour. He there- 
 fore was constantly by her side, paying 
 her great attention. This post was, 
 however, warmly disputed by Sir Charles 
 Benwell; and never, surely, were two 
 beings better formed for contest. 
 
 The baronet, now on a visit at Ariing-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 279 
 
 ham, was, in person and manners, a per- 
 fect contrast with his rival : but, if his 
 conversation and demeanor were unpo- 
 Hshed, his understanding, and the good- 
 ness of his heart, compensated for the 
 faults of a neglected education. 
 
 At the age of thirty, Charles Benwell 
 lost his father, whose chief views for his 
 son had been to see him, like liimself, a 
 thorough-bred Yorkshire fox-hunter. He 
 was left in possession of a very good for- 
 tune, which he was anxious to share with 
 some agreeable young woman, who 
 would not thwart his habits and amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 In this state of mind he accompanied 
 Jjord Montrevor into Devonshire, and 
 was so well pleased with Caroline, that 
 he determined, if possible, to take her 
 back with him into the north. The ba- 
 ronet had spent a fortnight at Arlinghara, 
 — during which all he had seen of Mi^s 
 Montrevor had increased his love and 
 good opinion of her, — when Mr. Fairbank
 
 280 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 made his appearance in the neighbour- 
 hood ; and, shortly after, convinced him 
 that he also aimed at the same mark. 
 This discovery, however, gave him no 
 uneasiness: ''for may I never be in again 
 at a death," said he, one day, to his 
 friends at Hammerton rectory, " if I 
 would not at this moment stop short in 
 the chase, with as cheerful a heart as ever 
 I followed one, if I thought Miss Mon- 
 trevor could prefer that little wax puppet 
 to me." 
 
 '' But, Sir Charles, you do not, per- 
 haps, know," said Mrs. Thornton, with 
 evident vexation, ''that it is whispered 
 Lord Montrevor will, as long as he lives, 
 consider the beauty of his daughter as 
 fortune sufficient." 
 
 " Then I am his man," exclaimed 
 Benwell: "my estate is good and unen- 
 cumbered; and, if the sweet girl will 
 accept of my fortune and me, I will not 
 ask her father for a shilling : it will come 
 all in good time."
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 281 
 
 ** You will find, however, eight or ten 
 thousand pounds down a very convenient 
 appendage to a wife ; particularly if you 
 had children ;" continued Mrs. Thornton, 
 involuntarily looking round on her own 
 daughters ; one of whom she had long 
 ago, in speculation, given in marriage to 
 the baronet, ^ — who, being related to Mr. 
 Huntley, had, at different periods, spent 
 much time in that neighbourhood. 
 
 " True, madam ; it would be all so 
 much the better : but, I trust, we could 
 be happy without it. A contented mind, 
 and the comfortable independence sup- 
 plied by my fortune, would be all suffi- 
 cient for happiness." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Thornton happened, 
 with their daughter, to be present on 
 this occasion, and applauded his just and 
 liberal way of thinking; adding their 
 best wishes for the success of his views. 
 
 Miss Huntley had listened to this dis- 
 course ; and, being feisked by Sir Charles 
 what she'thought of his chance, bestowed
 
 282 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the highest encomiums on the character 
 and disposition of her young friend ; but 
 decHned giving any opinion of the result 
 of his attentions. 
 
 But, to return to the saloon at Lord 
 Ashmore's. 
 
 " Hold, hold, friend, you follow too 
 close ; you spoil the sport :" cried Sir 
 Charles Benwell, clapping Fairbank on 
 the back, with so little ceremony or gen- 
 tleness, that the latter, who was pouring 
 soft nothings in the ear of Caroline, gave 
 his forehead a smart blow against the 
 back of the sofa. 
 
 *'Demme, sir," exclaimed he, starting 
 back, " do you think that I am as tough 
 as yourself, and that nothing can wound 
 me but a bullet or rapier." 
 
 "Upon my faith," said Sir Charles, 
 ** I had no intention of making the expe- 
 riment, and I ask your pardon : so there, 
 I hope, is an end of the business." 
 
 *' I wish I may find it so, sir;" said Mr. 
 Fairbank, taking from his pocket a small
 
 CONCEALMENT, 283 
 
 mirror, and examining his face : ^^ but I 
 fear my forehead will be discoloured for 
 this month to come." 
 
 ''Well, and what then, sir?" said 
 Ben well, with difficulty restraining his 
 laughter. 
 
 /'What then. Sir Charles?" retorted 
 the indignant Fairbank : " why, shall I 
 not be ashamed to shew my face any 
 where ?" 
 
 " What do you think of a mask, sir 1" 
 said Julia, who, with all near her, had 
 been unable to speak for laughing. 
 
 "The lady advises w^ell, Fairbank," 
 added Lord Carlmaine ; " and I think 
 that of a youthful vestal would be exactly 
 the thing for you." 
 
 " No ; a grenadier's will suit him bet- 
 ter ;" said the baronet. 
 
 The laugh now spread, and became 
 tumultuous : but the gentleman bore it 
 with a stoic's fortitude, or rather he heard 
 it not, so deeply was his attention en*- 
 grossed by his late accident. At length
 
 284 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 he addressed Miss Montrevor, saying, — 
 " My greatest consolation, madam, is, 
 that my wound does me honour, — being 
 received in your service." 
 
 *^ Mine, sir ! I should be very sorry 
 if—" 
 
 " Oh ! not another word ;^' interrupted 
 he, in a low voice : '* it is a mere scratch, 
 compared with the wound you have in- 
 flicted on my heart." 
 
 Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham 
 now approached, to learn the cause of the 
 thickening assembly round the spot 
 where the young people were seated. 
 On receiving the explanation from Ed- 
 ward, they could not wholly preserve 
 their gravity : but, finding Caroline con- 
 fused, Lady Montrevor told her, Lady 
 Maria Carlmaine wanted her assistance 
 in settling some dances. Her ladyship 
 then took her seat by the side of Julia, 
 who, with aflccted gravity, was condo- 
 ling with Fairbank on his unfortunate 
 accident, to the great entertainment of
 
 CONCEALMENT. 285 
 
 young Byngham, Lord Carlmaine, and 
 others, as well as Sir Charles, who hear- 
 tily enjoyed the contemptible situation in 
 which his rival was placed. 
 
 Frederick had before made several 
 attempts to withdraw his sister from her 
 present situation ; but Julia was too well 
 amused to wish a change, and now, see- 
 ing the little coxcomb becoming more 
 composed, she wished to renew the ex- 
 piring mirth, and said, with much serious- 
 ness, — "At least, sir, you have proved your 
 head is not a soft one : for, in that case, an 
 indenture would have been the natural 
 consequence ; whereas, the contrary is 
 evident, by the swelling above your eye." 
 
 " Swelling, madam !" exclaimed he, 
 with agitation ; and, applying his hand 
 to the unfortunate part, he was convinced 
 of the fact, and hurried out of the room, 
 — leaving every one, and none more 
 than our heroine, convulsed with laughter. 
 
 But, though the friends of Juha could 
 not suppress their smiles, they were vexed
 
 286 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 to see her indulge her mirth with so lit- 
 tle discretion ; and they began to think 
 of retiring, when soft music was heard 
 slowly approaching from a distance, 
 which swelled into full harmony at the 
 instant that two large folding doors, at 
 the end of the room, were thrown open, 
 and disclosed a scene that rivetted the 
 general attention. 
 
 Lady Eleanor, representing the god- 
 dess Fortuna, appeared standing upon 
 an illuminated wheel ; and, from that 
 elevated situation, sang the following 
 lines — 
 
 "Approach Carlmaine, dispel all fear, 
 On thee my choicest smiles I bend ; 
 
 No dire reverse thy fate is near, — 
 For Fortune is thy steady friend. 
 
 ** Fickle to thee I'll never prove ; 
 
 Like me, exalted, thou shalt stand : 
 While I — thy genius — " 
 
 At this moment the music was inter- 
 rupted by the treacherous wheel giving 
 one'of its unlucTcy turns, by which my
 
 CONCEALMENT. 287 
 
 lady Fortuna came tumbling to the 
 ground. The humbled deity was at- 
 tended to her chamber by Lady Maria ; 
 the latter being glad to hide her indig- 
 nation at the absurd conduct of a rela- 
 tion, of whom she felt, at this time, more 
 than ever ashamed. Lord Ashmore ex- 
 perienced, also, much confusion : for, 
 though he had often been made to blush 
 for the weakness and vanity of his sister, 
 he thought they had never before appear- 
 ed so glaring ; and he almost lost sight 
 of the sense and good nature which had 
 hitherto induced him to look upon her 
 foibles and singularities with an indul- 
 gent eye. 
 
 In a short time assurances were re- 
 ceived , that Lady Eleanor had sustained 
 no injury from her fail. The earl would 
 have had the dancing renewed; but that 
 was declined, and the company departed, 
 — every one much gratified, and particu- 
 larly obliged to Lady Eleanor for her 
 exertions to amuse them. 
 6
 
 '^88 COTSTCEALMENT. 
 
 During the ride home, Julia indulged 
 the full vein of her lively satire at Lady 
 Eleanor's expense; and, when Lady 
 Montrevor checked her, she declared 
 such vanity courted the strongest cen- 
 sure. Frederick reminded her that no one 
 was without their failings, and that, when 
 they arose from weakness of intellect, 
 they ought to excite compassion, rather 
 than mirth and sieverity. Julia fully 
 agreed in the justice, as well as kindness, 
 of her brother's remarks ; but the next 
 minute launched out again, with un- 
 abated vivacity, in rather severe animad- 
 versions, on what had occurred at Brook- 
 dale ; which lasted till she retired to her 
 own chamber, where she soon lost all 
 remembrance of the late scenes in happy 
 unbroken slumbers.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XV: 
 
 Chiefly one charm, 
 
 He in his graceful character observes, 
 
 That, the' his passions burn with high impatience, 
 
 And sometimes, with a noble heat of nature, 
 
 A re ready to fly off, — yet the least check 
 
 Of ruling reason brings them back to temper 
 
 And gentle softness." thomsom's sigi8MUND4. 
 
 In vain did Frederick endeavour, by 
 sleep, to calm his agitated spirits, and 
 acquire that self-possession, he was con- 
 scious would be necessary for the appli- 
 cation to Mr. Byngham ; on which every 
 hour had made him more determined. 
 All his efforts served only to prove how 
 impossible it was to sleep with a mind 
 so disturbed. The gloom, indeed, of 
 surrounding objects rather induced him 
 to retire more within himself, and thus 
 increased the fanciful and perplexing 
 suggestions of his disordered imagina- 
 tion. Banishing, therefore, all thoughts
 
 290 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 of repose, he left his apartment, and went 
 into the park, resolved to avoid the sight 
 of every one ; till, breakfast being over, 
 he might be able to see Lady Montrevor 
 and Mr. Byngham together; the latter 
 having returned w^ith him to Arlingham. 
 
 The fresh invigorating air of a lovely 
 morning was little more efficacious than 
 his pillow had been ; and, after studying 
 various speeches, by which he purposed 
 imparting to his friends his resolutions, 
 4ie returned to the house. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dermont had walked 
 ■over to hear the account of the ball ; and, 
 while the latter joined the ladies, Mr. 
 Byngham took the former into the li« 
 brary, to renew the subject so often dis- 
 cussed ; and which had more than usually 
 engrossed his attention since his late 
 conversation with his sister. Lady Mon- 
 trevor had noticed the arrival of Mr. 
 Permont, and, guessing the intention of 
 "h^r brother, soon joined them ; being 
 anxious to know on what they would
 
 CONCEALMENT. 291 
 
 decide respectmg her young favourite. 
 She was ki«dly urging the expediency of 
 sparing, as much as possible, the feeliiags 
 of the young man in the necessary dis- 
 closure, when, as Frederick was hastily 
 passing the open window, he saw his 
 three friends, and immediately entered 
 the room. 
 
 All his studied, well-turned rhetoric, 
 was forgotten ; and emotion almost pre- 
 vented his utterance, as, addressing 
 Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byngham, he 
 acknowledged how he had, at first unin- 
 tentionally, overheard their conversation 
 respecting himself and Julia. 
 
 *'And now, sir," continued the animated 
 youth, struggling for firmness and com- 
 posure, "I am come to solicit an unre- 
 served communication of every particu- 
 lar concerning my unhappy mother. She, 
 at least, seems to have been well known 
 to you." And, in spite of his eiforts, a 
 deep suffusion mantled over his face, 
 while he continued, — " Your w^ll-raeant 
 o2
 
 292 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 reserve has kept me too long in ignorance, 
 and misled my estimation of my rank in 
 society. I am prepared to hear the 
 worst you can relate ; and my only re- 
 quest is, that I may now, though late, 
 know that worst. Oh ! do not again let 
 me be tortured with doubt and suspi- 
 cions: seek not, though from the kindest 
 motives, to wound the feelings of my 
 maturer age by those cruel delays and 
 artful subterfuges which silenced, with- 
 out satisfying, the inquiries of my child- 
 hood. Tell me who were my parents 1" 
 
 Surprise, affection for the young peti- 
 tioner, with various other contending 
 emotions, combined greatly to affect Mr. 
 Byngham. He rose hastily, and, saying 
 to Mr. Dermont, — ^'Tell hini all, my 
 friend : yes, all," — hurried from the room. 
 
 Lady Montrevor took the trembling 
 hand of Frederick, and, seating him be- 
 tween herself and Mr. Dermont, said, 
 while tears of benevolence moistened her 
 cheek, — *^ Compose yourself, my dear
 
 CONCEALMENT. 293 
 
 Fred; your imagination is misleading 
 your judgment, and you are suffering 
 from false apprehensions." 
 
 *' Convince me they are false, and 1 
 will bless you," he replied, rather ab- 
 ruptly withdrawing his hand, and fixing 
 his eyes steadily upon her : " but take 
 care, madam ; I am not so young as to 
 be longer deceived, and nothing but the 
 truth will satisfy me." 
 
 He paused a moment ; and, finding 
 Lady Montrevor was distressed and si- 
 lent, he eagerly turned to Mr. Dermont, 
 who had approached the window, and 
 was arranging his ideas, so to fulfil 
 the task imposed upon him, as to give as 
 little pain as possible to the warm enthu- 
 siastic heart of the youth he both loved 
 and admired. *'To you, my respected 
 friend, I am referred: from you I have 
 ever heard the truth, and, I trust, you 
 will not, from false delicacy, spare me 
 now. Js the birth of Julia and myself 
 disgraceful ]" 
 
 o3
 
 294 CONCEALMENTr 
 
 Mr. Derrnont reseated himself; and, 
 making Frederick do the same, said, — 
 *' Listen, with patient attention, to. all 
 the details we have it in our power to 
 give ; and then you will be as well quali- 
 fied to decide that question (which to u» 
 appears a doubtful one,) as I am." This 
 seemed to our hero something like a re- 
 prieve, and he made no reply. 
 
 Mr. Dermont then related every parti- 
 cular of Mr. Byngham's singular adven- 
 tures in Cumberland ; Mrs. Lawrence's 
 death ; the disappointment experienced 
 in tlie examination of the casket ; with 
 the account of the indefatigable applica- 
 tions and endeavours that had at different 
 times been made, during many years, 
 to obtain more satisfactory information, 
 but without success. 
 
 He then concluded, by expatiating on 
 the affectionate and parental care with 
 which Mr. Byngham had fulfilled the 
 trust confided to him by his dying friend ; 
 and expressed his hope, that Frederick
 
 CONCEALMENT. 295 
 
 would continue to regard that gentleman 
 as a father he and his sister were bound 
 to honour, love, and consult on every oc* 
 currence of their lives. 
 
 Frederick readily and warmly admitted 
 the great debt of gratitude Julia and him^ 
 self had incurred towards Mr. Byngham, 
 and their other friends ; which, he said, 
 it was his highest pleasure to acknow- 
 ledge, and should be the study of his 
 life to discharge. He had listened with 
 great attention to the above communica-? 
 tion ; by which, unsatisfactory as it was, 
 he had been miich and differently affectr 
 ed ; and, as the guilt of his mother rested 
 only on suspicion, his heart readily ad-** 
 mitted the flattering hope, that some un- 
 foreseen event might yet arise, which 
 would clear her fame, and discover to 
 him a father, or, at least, some relations, 
 he might claim without a blush. 
 
 In the mean time, his thoughts rapidly 
 reverting to the plan of going into the 
 army, he said, — " Many thanks, my dear 
 o4
 
 296 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 sir, for the considerate kindness with 
 which you have given me these extraor- 
 dinary particulars. I see that, by some 
 fatal occurrence, if not by gross culpa- 
 bility, I am deprived of the advantages 
 possessed by most men, — of knowing to 
 whom they are related. This, I feel, will 
 w^eigh as a heavy misfortune on my mind, 
 and wholly unfit me for the profession I 
 have chosen ; I therefore hope no objec- 
 tion will be offered to my going into the 
 army, where it is possible future merit 
 and success may reconcile me to my si- 
 tuation." 
 
 *'And how will Julia approve this 
 plan?" said Lady Montrevor. 
 
 Our hero's full heart melted at this 
 loved name ; every tender association, of 
 which Julia was the object, concurred to 
 affect and distress him, and his long sup- 
 pressed feelings obtained a natural relief. 
 His head sunk on her ladyship's shoulder, 
 and, covering his face with his hands, he 
 wept aloud.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 297 
 
 ^* Frederick," said Mr. Dermont, him- 
 self greatly affected ; " you are nursing a 
 diseased sensibility, that, if you perse- 
 vere, will weaken your understanding, 
 blight the hopes we have formed for you, 
 and not only destroy your own happiness, 
 but materially lessen that of the sister you 
 so fondly love." 
 
 '' Oh yes,'' exclaimed Frederick ; '^ she 
 is dearer to my heart than life or happi- 
 ness, and for her I would gladly make 
 every sacrifice. Never shall she know 
 from me the guilt, the shame, to which, 
 it seems, we owe our origin ; and — " he 
 continued, alternately addressing Lady 
 Montrevor and Mr. Dermont, — " I ear- 
 nestly request of you both a promise, not 
 to awaken my sister from her present 
 state of happy ignorance." 
 
 Lady Montrevor affectionately pressed 
 his hand ; while Mr. Dermont assured 
 him, he might rely on his discretion. 
 '^ It has pleased the wise Regulator of all 
 things, my dear young friend," added 
 o5
 
 298 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 this worthy instructor, " to involve in 
 mystery some particular circumstances, 
 ' — on which your mind, unfortunately, 
 seems inclined to dwell. But shall you, 
 therefore, ungratefully forgety or pettishly 
 and proudly contemn, the various bles- 
 sings he has already showered on your 
 head? And because you now, for the 
 first time, feel a thorn in your flowery 
 path, shall you ungraciously murmur at 
 your Creator's high behests, cast from 
 you the affectionate protection under 
 which he has placed you, and rush head- 
 long on the indulgence of wild, chime- 
 rical plans, which no sound judgment 
 could approve 1 Forbid it every consi- 
 deration which respects your own virtue, 
 and every rational expectation I have 
 formed of your character and future 
 prospects. Trust me, young man, what 
 your heated imagination now pictures as 
 so heavy a calamity, will soon, by proper 
 discipline, appear in its true light ; 
 namely, as one of those occurrences in
 
 CONCEALMENT. 299 
 
 human life, over which having no control, 
 we must all learn to bear with Christian re- 
 signation and manly fortitude. You have 
 never yet experienced the want of those 
 parents, whom you are, in idea, so enthu- 
 siastically pursuing. Your misfortunes 
 (even supposing them proved, — which, 
 you will remember, is not the case,) are 
 not of a nature to influence your future 
 life. That must take its colour, bright 
 or dark, from your own virtues and exer- 
 tions ; and not from adventitious circum- 
 stances. But I will say no more : your 
 own upright heart and sobered judgment 
 will be your best counsellors. Go home * 
 take the whiskey, and fetch our Emma 
 from school ; to-morrow is her birth-day, 
 and she will expect to spend it with us. 
 We will account for your absence : and 
 thus you will have time to collect your 
 scattered senses, and compose yourself." 
 The heart of youth is naturally pliant : 
 Frederick felt all the justice and benevo- 
 lence of these observations ; and if, when
 
 300 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 his judgment began to yield to convic- 
 tion, his pride still hesitated, yet his 
 passions were soothed, and his heart 
 somewhat relieved. Mr. Dermont then 
 went to join his wife in the breakfast- 
 room, and Lady Montrevor conducted 
 our hero to her own apartment, when she 
 insisted upon his taking some refresh- 
 ment before he left Arlingham. 
 
 Mr. Byngham there joined them ; and, 
 after promising to deliver into Frede- 
 rick's care Mrs. Lawrence's casket, 
 papers, &c. he and Lady Montrevor so 
 effectually and kindly exerted themselves, 
 that young Lawrence's sorrows almost 
 wholly vanished before the pleasing ex- 
 pectation, that time would unveil, in some 
 way or other, what now appeared so in- 
 explicable; and, cherishing this alluring 
 hope, he set forth on his agreeable com- 
 mission,— congratulating himself that he 
 had at last obtained, from his friends, 
 all the information in their power to 
 give.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 301 
 
 Emma Dermont was a pretty, interest- 
 ing* girl of fourteen. She was small for 
 her age ; but her person was most exqui- 
 sitely formed, and her features highly 
 pleasing ; not from regular beauty, but 
 from a peculiar gentle amiableness of ex- 
 pression, and rather pensive cast of 
 countenance, that, even at first sight, 
 challenged love and interest for this 
 charming child. Though idolized by her 
 parents, and, consequently, indulged to 
 what is generally found a fatal degree, 
 the natural sweetness of her temper 
 never varied. She had early learnt to 
 bend, with graceful affection, to the way^ 
 ward humours of a fond, but pettish and 
 ailing, mother: while to her father she 
 looked up as a presiding deity over her 
 every word and thought, for whom her 
 affection and reverence knew no bounds. 
 Thus the very first precepts and instruc- 
 tion, instilled by him into her infant 
 mind, ever made the impressions he in- 
 tended ; and he had the happiness to find,
 
 302 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 as she advanced in age, that her charac- 
 ter was both firm and ductile : so that, 
 when he tenderly kissed and blessed her 
 on this her fourteenth birth-day, with 
 heartfelt complacency and proud affec- 
 tion, he bade her continue but as she 
 was, and she would crown his old age 
 with happiness. 
 
 Frederick had always loved and treated 
 the little Emma as his youngest sister. 
 He studied, rode, walked, and played 
 with her ; and, when it was thought ad- 
 visable that she should be placed, for a 
 couple of years, with a lady at Exeter, 
 for the benefit of masters, the separation 
 was vexatious to both. Every Saturday, 
 however, saw her return home, driven 
 by our hero ; when the labours and con- 
 finement of the week were all forgotten, 
 in the society of her parents, and kind 
 friends and companions, at Arlingham. 
 
 Gladly did she now hail the arrival of 
 Frederick, artlessly confessing, she was 
 happy he had not sljept so late after the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 303 
 
 ball as to prevent his coming for her; 
 which, her father had told her, would be 
 the case, and had promised to fetch her 
 himself. Seated by her side, our hero's 
 mind became gradually detached from 
 what had before so fully occupied it, and 
 he thought only of entertaining his little 
 friend by an account of the gaieties of the 
 preceding evening. 
 
 When they alighted at Mr. Dermont's, 
 Frederick hastened into the house, and 
 soon after returned, carrying a beautiful 
 little squirrel, secured by a silver chain, 
 which he placed in Emma's hand ; affec- 
 tionately kissed her, wishing her many 
 happy returns of the day ; and begged 
 her to accept, and be kind to, the little 
 stranger, for his sake. He added, that 
 he himself had caCight it a month before ; 
 and, intending it as a birth-day present 
 for her, he had employed so much time 
 in taming it, that it was now quite do»- 
 cile. Emma, with blushes of surprise 
 and regard, thanked him for his kindness,
 
 304 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and promised to love. the sweet little 
 creature very very dearly. 
 
 Frederick then joined Mr. Byngbam, 
 who had been waiting his return, having 
 brought with him all the articles he pos- 
 sessed, which had belonged to Mrs. 
 Lawrence. 
 
 Frederick had again a thousand ques- 
 tions to ask, after the perusal of the let- 
 ters, &c. ; but was obliged to rest satis- 
 fied with the only answers his friend was 
 able to give. Much conversation passed 
 between them and Mr. Dermont ; during 
 which Frederick became so sensible of 
 the romantic character and intemperance 
 of his late sensations, and so generously 
 ashamed of the half-formed suspicions 
 which occasionally haunted his imagina- 
 tion, that he submitted wholly to the 
 guidance of friends to whom he was 
 already bound by so many ties. It was 
 then again determined, that Julia should 
 not, at least for the present, be made ac- 
 quainted with the particulars coramu-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 305 
 
 iiicated to her brother; and that he 
 should, as was before intended, pursue 
 his studies at College, and qualify him- 
 self to be called to the bar ; where his 
 encouraging friends prognosticated, that 
 he would not fail to distinguish himself. 
 
 While poor Frederick had been thus 
 agitated and perplexed by contending 
 emotions, his happy unsuspecting sister 
 had passed her time very agreeably. She 
 arose perfectly refreshed by a few hours 
 sound sleep, and was the first in the 
 breakfast-room ; ready to live over again, 
 in relation, the late gay scenes in which 
 she had so amply shared. 
 
 Lord Montrevor was pleased to find 
 her prepared to preside at his breakfast ; 
 and, being joined by several of his friends, 
 with Edward Byngham, much lively 
 conversation passed. Some of the party 
 observed, that the early appearance of 
 Miss Lawrence, as well as her unaffected 
 cheerfulness, proved that, while she had 
 won numerous hearts, she had been
 
 306 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 careful to preserve her own. Others 
 contended that, as sleep often fled the 
 lover's pillow, they might owe the plea-* 
 sure of the lady's company to her inability 
 to rest. To this Julia good-humouredly 
 replied, — "Had I been aware, gentle-^ 
 men, that my presence would have ex- 
 cited so much surprise, I think you would 
 not have seen me." 
 
 Much more agreeable badinage passed, 
 of which Julia was the soul ; and never, 
 perhaps, had she appeared more lovely 
 than while she thus continued to indulge 
 a natural flow of spirits, emanating from 
 a heart as free from care, as from every 
 unamiable passion. Edward Byngham 
 felt the effect of these attractions in an 
 unusual degree ; and, if he did not at that 
 moment forget Caroline, he drew a com- 
 parison calculated to shake the prefer- 
 ence his heart had begun to feel for his 
 cousin. 
 
 The mind of this youth, as has been 
 before observed, gave no promise of
 
 CONCEALMENT. 307 
 
 strength or fortitude. He was easily in^ 
 fluenced by the opinions and examples of 
 his associates ; in the choice of whom he 
 was often biassed by selfish considera- 
 tions. Thus he felt secretly averse from 
 confidence and friendship with Frederick 
 Lawrence : the natural openness and ener- 
 getic virtues of the latter were subjects 
 of envious contrast ; and extorted a de- 
 grading comparison, rather than excited, 
 a3^ they ought, a cordial esteem : but, for 
 Lord Carlmaine, Edward had conceived 
 great deference and regard. This sud- 
 den partiality had been excited by the 
 engaging condescension and conciliating 
 manners of this young nobleman, while 
 Edward remained in town with him and 
 Selwyn. 
 
 During this intercourse, Edward had 
 spoken in the highest terms of admira- 
 tion of the increasing beauty of Miss 
 Montrevor and Julia ; making no secret 
 of his attachment to the former. He also 
 imparted his opinion, that the union, to
 
 308 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 which he looked forward, was one that 
 would be sanctioned by his father ; who, 
 with Lady Montrevor, had, he beheved, 
 formed the wish of uniting their children : 
 but, he added, he was not so sure of Lord 
 Montrevor's approbation. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine received with this 
 confidence the conviction, that the mind 
 of young Byngham was weak and un- 
 formed ; and, indulging a dislike he had 
 taken to Mr. Byngham, on account of 
 some remonstrances formerly made by 
 that gentleman, on the subject of a trans- 
 action in which his lordship had been 
 implicated, he resolved to thwart, if pos- 
 sible, his views respecting his son. 
 
 In this intention, he listened to the 
 confidence of Edward, respecting his 
 cousin, with smiles sufficiently indicative 
 of contempt to confuse and provoke him : 
 then, while he begged pardon, laughed 
 aloud at his romantic passion, as he sar- 
 castically called it; and applauded his 
 dutiful submission in thus, like a good
 
 CONCEALMENT. 309 
 
 boy, falling in love with the very girl his 
 prudent father had chosen for him even 
 in the cradle. 
 
 Seeing Edward blush with vexation at 
 this raillery, he ridiculed the restraints 
 by which the old and crafty enviously 
 seek to repress the sprightliness and ar- 
 dour of youth ; invited him to share those 
 pleasures of which health and situation 
 gave him the fairest promise, and repro- 
 bated the plan of being fettered so early 
 in life, instead of enjoying unrestrained, 
 for a time, the freedom and gratifications 
 of his age. In fine, he painted the 
 charms of independence in such fasci- 
 nating colours, that, though Edward still 
 felt great partiality for Caroline, he con- 
 gratulated himself on never having de- 
 clared his sentiments. 
 
 At Brookdale Miss Montrevor had 
 looked so lovely, and her pleasure at see- 
 ing him had been so unequivocal, that he 
 saw only her, and acknowledged, for the 
 time, all the power she had over his
 
 310 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 heart: but, after the abrupt conclusion 
 of the evening's amusement, the artfully 
 applied ridicule of Lord Carlmaine was 
 sufficient almost to efface these impres- 
 sions, and to cloud the happy visions of 
 his fancy. 
 
 From the insidious remarks and influ- 
 ence of this new friend, he had also be- 
 gun to suspect that Carolilt^^ acquainted 
 with the wishes of her mother and uncle, 
 might have been guided rather by those 
 wishes, than by her own inclinations, in 
 her partiality for him. Thus his mind 
 was unsettled ; and his heart, being pre- 
 pared for any new impression, he beheld, 
 in this state of his feelings, our heroine, 
 the next morning, with awakened in- 
 terest, and unusual admiration.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 311 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " In fair proportion here describ'd, we trace 
 Each mental beauty, and each moral grace ; 
 Each useful passion taught, its tone design'd 
 In the nice concord of a well-tun'd mind." 
 
 MELMOTH. 
 
 After Frederick's departure, Lady Mon- 
 trevor, who was much pleased with the 
 success of her endeavours to calm his 
 -{Spirits, set out, accompanied by Edward 
 Byngham, to make her friendly inquiries 
 after Lady Eleanor ; a visit she thought 
 proper to pay alone, rather to the disap- 
 pointment of Julia, — who would have had 
 no objection to a renewal of part of the 
 amusement of the preceding evening, and 
 now proposed that a card of inquiry 
 should be sent by Caroline to Mr. Fair- 
 bank. Edward, with others of the party, 
 seconded the motion, and offered to be 
 the bearer of it. Caroline looked grave
 
 312 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 and reproachfully at her friend; while 
 Mr. Byngham reprimanded his son for 
 j oining in m isplaced ridicule. Sir Charles 
 defended young Byngham, and declared 
 that an animal like Fairbank was lawful 
 game, particularly when he sought to mar 
 the sport of others. Lord Montrevor and 
 his friends then went out on a fishing 
 excursion, and the two young ladies were 
 left at home alone. 
 
 In a short time. Lord Carlmaine and 
 Mr. Selwyn appeared on horseback be- 
 fore the windows of the music-room. 
 Nothing could be more agreeable to 
 Julia than this visit, and she soon com-i 
 menced a lively dissertation on the last 
 night's adventures. Caroline, whose 
 quick feelings had already made her 
 fancy she perceived a slight alteration in 
 Edward's manner, was rather out of spi- 
 rits ; and, with a view of ending a visit 
 tbat was irksome to her, told the gentle- 
 men that her cousin was gone to call 
 upon them. This had not the desired
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 813 
 
 effect ; for Lord Carlmaine said, he would 
 beg leave to wait his return, as he parti-i 
 cularly wished, to see him. The truth 
 was, that his lordship's visit was solely 
 intended for Julia ; with whose appear- 
 ance he had been greatly pleased the 
 preceding evening. Not that he was 
 capable of forming any serious vie\ts re- 
 specting her; but because that, in his 
 absence, she had, from a child, become a 
 very charming girl, with whom he judged 
 he might flirt very agreeably during his 
 stay at BrOokdale. 
 
 This young man had been educated as 
 an only son ; that is to say, his whims 
 and passions had pursued their various 
 objects, uninterrupted by parental disap- 
 probation or restraint. His understand- 
 ing was good ; and, had his early asso- 
 ciates been happily chosen, his mind 
 might have been as distinguished as his 
 station of life was exalted. Unfortu- 
 nately, the selected companion of his 
 p
 
 314 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 childhood^ and friend of his youth, was 
 but too well calculated to poison and 
 mislead those several stages. 
 
 Charles Lucas (the young man to 
 whom we allude,) was the son of Colonel 
 Lucas, whose family was ancient, and 
 his situation of life, though not affluent, 
 respectable. At the usual age Charles 
 was placed at Eton, where his idle and 
 irregular habits frequently attracted the 
 notice and censure of his tutor ; and 
 would have excited the contempt of his 
 equals, had not an agreeable liveliness 
 apologized to the latter for his levity and 
 ignorance, and secured him, in their opi- 
 nion, from the reputation of natural dull- 
 ness and inferiority. His father unfortu- 
 nately committed the same mistake, and 
 reproved, with too much gentleness, these 
 frequent deviations from rectitude ; in- 
 dulging the vain expectation, that the 
 seeds of ability and virtue were only 
 latent, and, though checked by the follies
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 S16 
 
 and vices of the boy, would not fail to 
 produce in the man the fruit of careful 
 cultivation. 
 
 After passing the accustomed years at 
 school, Lucas was sent to Oxford, where 
 he was expected to reap the advantages 
 of a residence in that seat of learning : 
 his partial guardian forgetting that, even 
 in the most favourable situations, know- 
 ledge and improvement must arise from 
 choice and individual exertion ; must be 
 sought, not forced, upon the mind ; that 
 no man was ever wise by another man's 
 wisdom, nor virtuous by another's virtue. 
 Lucas was here surrounded by his former 
 companions, and, with still less restraint, 
 indulged in all his vicious habits. 
 
 The tutors for some time mildly re- 
 proved his irregularity, and endeavoured 
 to stimulate him to a more respectable 
 line of conduct, though unconscious of 
 the extent of his private excesses. The 
 effects of these, however, were discovered 
 in a scene of drunken riot ; in which vio- 
 p2
 
 316 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 leiice of conduct, and open defiance of 
 college discipline, and the most insolent 
 personal contempt of those appointed to 
 enforce it, were punished with an expul- 
 sion from the University. Colonel Lucas 
 received the intelligence of this disgrace- 
 ful event with surprise and deepest 
 sorrow. 
 
 After an interval of angry feelings, as 
 it respected his son, and of self-reproach 
 and vexation, as it regarded himself; he 
 purchased a commission for Lucas in the 
 army, and sent him to a distant town, 
 where the regiment was quartered. The 
 distress and disappointment of a parent 
 saddened the mind of Lucas, but did not 
 melt his heart. In the just indignation 
 of Colonel Lucas he saw and felt nothinof, 
 except the selfish apprehension, that pro- 
 bably for the future a more circumscribed 
 allowance would bring with it some trou- 
 blesome privations, and stop the current 
 of his pleasures. To a youthful mind, 
 even when well disposed, the vacancy,
 
 CONCEALMENT. S17 
 
 the pardonable gaiety, and the social 
 pleasures of a military life are severe 
 trials ; to the mind of Lucas they were 
 fi^aught with ruinous consequences, and 
 he proceeded from one excess to another, 
 till even the officers of his regiment una- 
 nimously shunned all intercourse with 
 him. 
 
 No alternative was then left him but 
 to quit the army ; and death having, 
 about the same time, released his father 
 from a life, which the disgraceful con^ 
 duct of an only child had filled with bit- 
 terness and disappointment, he collected 
 the remains of a fortune his own guilty 
 extravagance had materially lessened, 
 and went abroad ; where he was soon 
 joined by Lord Carlmaine and Mr. 
 Selwyn. Lucas was two years older 
 than his noble friend; to which was 
 added a considerable share of the worst 
 part of worldly knowledge. 
 
 Under such guidance, it is not sur- 
 prising that Lord Carlmaine returned to 
 p3
 
 318 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 his country with all the evil propensities 
 of an ill-regulated mind increased. Fol- 
 lowing the footsteps of his unworthy 
 friend, he was indeed, at this period, 
 most familiar with every species of liber- 
 tinism. These unhappy truths were, 
 however, not easily discoverable, — veiled 
 as they were by a graceful and hand- 
 some person, and the manners of a per- 
 fect man of fashion. The almost princely 
 style in which he had lived on the Con* 
 tinent, threatened, on his return, to 
 occasion serious inconvenience; unless 
 he could prevail on his father to make 
 considerable advances for him. His 
 hope of effecting this was not very san- 
 guine, as Lord Ashmore's remittances to 
 him when abroad had been liberal in the 
 extreme. Aware that the earl w^ould be 
 justly incensed by a hasty avow^al of his 
 embarrassment, he determined to dis- 
 close it by degrees ; and, in the mean 
 time, endeavour, by assiduous attentions, 
 to dispose him to comply with his wishes.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 31& 
 
 This desirable effect he knew would be 
 best produced by consenting to think of 
 marriage ; a subject on which his father 
 had often urged him : but his conduct 
 had, for several years, been of a nature 
 too inimical to the sober duties of a mar- 
 ried life, for his inclinations to be easily 
 brought to point in that direction. Ano- 
 ther mode of gratifying Lord Ashmore, 
 he also knew, was to make the sacrifice 
 of a few months to the dull, monotonous 
 routine of Brookdale, and a country 
 neighbourhood; and, to this suspension of 
 his usual occupations, he reluctantly made 
 up his mind. 
 
 During the time Edward Byngham had 
 spent with him in town, he had formed, 
 from his conversation, a tolerable idea of 
 the amusement he was likely to meet 
 with in Devonshire. He had been told 
 Julia Lawrence was a very handsome 
 girl, but he was not prepared to find her 
 the lovely creature she had appeared to 
 him ; and, without any definite views or 
 p4
 
 320 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 intentions, he immediately resolved to 
 seek every opportunity of contemplating 
 so much beauty, and recommending him- 
 self to her. With that view, he had this 
 morning proposed a ride to Arlingham 
 to his cousin, who consented '* nothing 
 loath.'' And now, as we have noticed 
 their arrival, we will leave them to be 
 amused as they may, while we claim a 
 small share of the reader's attention in 
 favour of one for whom we are anxious 
 to bespeak his interest. 
 
 In describing Adolphiis Selwyn as 
 " nothing particular," Edward Byngham 
 had certainly not done him justice ; as h^ 
 was very tall, and, like his cousin Lord 
 Carlmaine, remarkably well-made. He 
 could not, to be sure, boast the light and 
 airy gracefulness of carriage and address 
 that peculiarly belonged to the latter ; but 
 that deficiency was well compensated for 
 by a firm and manly deportment, that 
 ever commanded respect, before he was 
 sufficiently known to conciliate regard.
 
 tlONCEALMENT. 
 
 S2I^ 
 
 His features were strong, and not formed 
 to attract or please at first sight; but, oa 
 a second glance, the eye of the observer 
 never failed to be arrested by a marked 
 expression of intelligence and goodness, 
 which seemed to lie too deep for common 
 penetration or superficial observation to 
 reach. But when, on further acquain- 
 tance, the energies of his mind were 
 called into action,— when his ardent, 
 but generally subdued, passions were 
 suddenly roused, — or when cautious 
 prudence, momentarily off her guard, 
 permitted the inward workings of his 
 strong feelings to appear ; then it was 
 that all his soul, beaming through his 
 eyes, and communicating to his counte- 
 nance every bright emotion of his heart, 
 his features became instantly and totally 
 transformed. With difficulty could his 
 auditors, as they gazed with delighted 
 approbation, then believe that the face, 
 thus radiant and almost beautified by 
 animation, was the same which, a mo- 
 p5
 
 322 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 ment before, had appeared so serious and 
 uninteresting ; and which, in a few mi- 
 nutes after, would again lose all its fire, 
 and settle down into its usual state of 
 composure, reserve, and diffidence. He 
 was the son of a clergyman of great re- 
 spectability and considerable fortune in 
 one of the western counties of England ; 
 who, at an early age, had fallen a victim 
 to corroding grief, occasioned by domes- 
 tic misfortunes. For some time religion, 
 and the tenderest paternal affection, ena- 
 bled Mr. Selwyn to struggle for existence 
 with a breaking heart, and slow declining 
 health. Nature at last gave way; and 
 when Adolphus had just entered his four- 
 teenth year, and his mind was beginning 
 to appreciate all the value of a good fa- 
 ther, he became an orphan ; and passed 
 from the paternal roof and embraces of a 
 dying parent to the house and guardian- 
 ship of Lord Ashmore, who had married 
 his mother's sister. 
 
 Lady Ashmore did not long survive
 
 CONCEALMENT. 323 
 
 her brother-in-law ; but the earl never 
 relaxed in his kindness to Adolphus, who 
 early displayed a character and dispo- 
 sition that readily procured him the par- 
 tiality of his noble relations. As the 
 large fortune which Adolphus had inhe- 
 rited, by the death of his father and an 
 uncle, would enable him, though a com- 
 moner, to rank with Lord Carlmaine his 
 cousin, on most occasions, it was deter- 
 mined that the course of their education 
 should be the same. Very different, 
 however, were the respective advantages 
 derived from the instructions they had 
 received. 
 
 While the youth of Lord Carlmaine 
 was marked with idleness and dissipa- 
 tion, that of Selwyn was daily engrafting 
 on the early lessons of information and 
 virtue he had received, a large fund of 
 enlightened instruction, practical bene- 
 volence, and useful knowledge. 
 
 Adolphus had been for several years 
 the sole companion of a suffering father,
 
 324 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 who, self-secluded from the world, often 
 forgot the youth of this partner of his 
 sorrows, and his solitude ; and fre- 
 quently relieved the fulness of his heart, 
 by pouring into the ear of his son, the 
 history of that grief, which had almost 
 shaken his reason, and would, in ail pro- 
 bability, shorten his days. This, perhaps 
 ill-judged confidence, while it occasion- 
 ally softened the heart of Adolphus, in a 
 still greater degree hastened the unfold- 
 ing of his reason, and laid the foundation 
 of that seriousness and reflective turn 
 which afterwards marked his character. 
 He had quitted England with Lord Carl- 
 maine : but their habits abroad were even 
 more dissimilar than they had been at 
 school, or at college; and Selwyn, after 
 repeated endeavours to check the immoral 
 propensities of his relation, and detach 
 him from the dangerous society of Lucas, 
 conceived, that the only chance of pre- 
 serving his own self-esteem, was to sepa- 
 rate himself, as much as possible, from
 
 CONCEALMENT. 325 
 
 companions with whom he had but very 
 few sentiments in common. 
 
 Still, however, he was attached to hi^ 
 cousin. He continued to love the man, 
 while he hated and shunned the vices 
 and example by which he was misled. 
 Thus his purse, as well as his heart, was 
 ever open, and at the command of Carl- 
 maine ; till he found, that the one only 
 tended to increase his extravagance, or 
 facilitate the vicious schemes of Lucas ; 
 and that the confiding regard and unsus- 
 pecting friendship of the other were 
 basely betrayed, and made the subject of 
 contempt and derision. 
 
 After three years spent in visiting most 
 of the capitals of Europe, in studying the 
 minds of men, with the manners and go- 
 vernments of different nations, he return- 
 ed to his native land ; his understanding 
 strengthened, his judgment matured, his 
 principles more steadily fixed, his curio- 
 sity gratified, his taste refined, and his 
 mind unpolluted by the various scenes in
 
 S26 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 which vice, in novel, and often seductive, 
 forms, had been exhibited to his obser- 
 vation. 
 
 The prudent circumspection, that seem" 
 ed natural to him, had defended his heart 
 alike from the pains and pleasures of love. 
 But, under this appearance of reserve, 
 perhaps even of coldness, glowed feelings 
 of the warmest sensibility. His passions 
 and imagination were indeed ardent, 
 occasionally even impetuous ; but early 
 culture and discipline had chastened, and 
 brought them under the wholesome con- 
 trol and guidance of reason. Among the 
 companions of his youth his bosom ac- 
 knowledged few as very intimate, still 
 fewer as common friends, and not one as 
 the congenial soul with which his own 
 might link in amity. 
 
 Before he left England, as we observed 
 above, he had conceived a great partiality 
 for Frederick Lawrence. Few young 
 men were, in truth, better suited to each 
 other; both possessing the most desirable
 
 CONCEALMENT. 327 
 
 qualities of the understanding, and vir- 
 tues of the heart : even the errors of their 
 several characters seemed calculated to 
 draw still closer the bonds of friendship 
 that united them, in spite of the differ- 
 ence of their ages. 
 
 The confused but painful recollection 
 of his early years, the singular mystery 
 and uncertainty that enveloped the fate 
 of his parents, the unconnected situation 
 of his sister, as well as himself, — had 
 combined to cherish in Frederick a fe- 
 verish sensibility, which threatened much 
 danger to his future peace. In a mind 
 less nobly endowed, these circumstances 
 might have produced a repulsive reserve, 
 and a distrustful austerity of character : 
 in that of Frederick they generated a 
 diffidence of his own merits, which, to 
 the penetrating Selwyn, rendered hfm 
 still more deserving encouragement and 
 regard. 
 
 Neither was the character of Selwyn 
 free from all erroneous bias, though ap-
 
 328 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 proaching very near to perfection. In his^ 
 mind the standard of human excellence 
 was placed too high ; and he was, there- 
 fore, ill disposed to be satisfied with the 
 probity and virtue he generally met with 
 in his intercourse with society. Hence 
 his bosom had, till now, been locked up 
 from friendship, and still more strongly 
 defended against the entrance of love. 
 
 Of women indeed, or rather of the 
 woman to whom he would entrust his 
 happiness, and for whose felicity he felt no 
 sacrifice would be too great, he had, in 
 his warm imagination, formed a model 
 so good, so fair, so charming, and so 
 perfect, that it had for many years been 
 the idol before which he bowed almost 
 in adoration. By the light of day he 
 sought it ; but in his nightly visions only 
 had he found this sweet creation of his 
 fastidious fancy. 
 
 His vacations had usually been spent 
 in Devonshire ; and, while he delighted 
 in watching the gradual approach of
 
 CONCEALMENT. 329 
 
 Frederick to reason and manhood, his 
 raiud was often attracted, and the most 
 agreeable emotions excited, by the grace, 
 beauty, and fascinating playfulness, of 
 the little Julia ; whose attention he fre- 
 quently attempted to engage, either with 
 an instructive book, or something like 
 serious conversation. These efforts were, 
 however, always unsuccessful. 
 
 The book named by Selwyn was never 
 to be found, or, if he already held it, Julia 
 hastily dragged Caroline forward, assu- 
 ring him, that she would do more honour 
 to their kind instructress. If she perceived 
 he was going to describe some " pretty 
 behaved young ladies he was acquainted 
 with at Oxford," she would stand erect 
 and motionless before him, with every 
 burlesque affectation of the greatest 
 attention ; while a sly glance at Edward 
 or Caroline, stolen from beneath the 
 shade of her beautiful long eye-lashes, 
 challenged approval of the joke. But, if 
 she suspected that Adolphus Selwyn
 
 330 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 really meant to examine her as to her 
 acquirements, or seriously to correct what 
 he thought amiss in her conduct and opi- 
 nions, the natural hauteur and impa- 
 tience of her character would instantly 
 break forth, and, with haughty irony, she 
 would thank him for the trouble he 
 considerately wished to spare Lady 
 Montrevor. 
 
 Such was the child Selwyn had left, 
 and who had alternately excited feelings 
 of the liveliest interest, and most poig- 
 nant regret, that Nature should have 
 formed such a master-piece of attraction, 
 and have left it so imperfect. These 
 sentiments, however, were hastily con- 
 ceived, and quickly corrected by the 
 reflection that Julia was little more than 
 a child; time might do much, and she 
 was in excellent hands; and still her 
 image often, when far distant, came un- 
 called to his recollections. When he 
 again saw her, amid the festive throng 
 at his uncle's, her graceful figure and
 
 CONCEALMENT. 331 
 
 ripened beauty struck him with surprise 
 and admiration. Love might probably 
 have added to the force of these agree- 
 able sensations in favour of our heroine, 
 but for an accidental circumstance pre- 
 vious to his entering the room, w^hich 
 armed his breast with more than it 
 usual caution. 
 
 In Lady Eleanor's search for pictures, 
 to ornament the rooms of entertainment 
 on the ball night, many were brought to 
 light that had long been consigned to a 
 lumber-room, or removed from observa- 
 tion for family reasons. Among the lat- 
 ter was one of Mrs. Selwyn, painted in 
 earliest life, and representing her in the 
 character of Hebe. Mr. Selwyn had ever 
 prized it with melancholy tenderness ; 
 and, at his death, had earnestly requested 
 that Lady Ashmore would accept, and 
 protect from injury, this resemblance of 
 an ill-fated sister. 
 
 The countess received the melancholy 
 legacy with mingled sensations of grief,
 
 332 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 shame, and affection : during her life it 
 hung in the least conspicuous part of her 
 private closet, and at her death was re- 
 moved to a distant apartment, never 
 used. It had been brought down with 
 others for selection; but, on being ob* 
 served by Lady Eleanor, was, with an 
 expression of dignity and horror, ordered 
 away. In the hurry of preparation, in- 
 stead of being returned to its former 
 situation, it had been hung up in the 
 apartment Selwyn had always occupied, 
 and to which he now returned. 
 
 The sensations excited in his mind, by 
 the sight of this old acquaintance, were 
 chiefly of a painful nature. His recollec- 
 tion of his mother, which time was 
 wiping fast from his memory, became 
 suddenly renewed; and he recalled to 
 mind the agony of despair and tenderness 
 with which he had often seen his father 
 contemplate this pleasing portrait. With 
 these half painful, half soothing, retro- 
 spections, came also a train of well-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 333 
 
 remembered lessons and reflections, in- 
 culcating the necessity of prudent reserve 
 and unrelaxing circumspection. 
 
 Thus seriously disposed, his heart sur- 
 rounded by a sacred paternal guard, he 
 advanced to Lady Montrevor ; whose ex- 
 tended hand gave him a friendly welcome 
 back to England. From Julia he re- 
 ceived only a smile of pleased recogni- 
 tion ; as she was, at that moment, hasten- 
 ing to take her place in the dance. His 
 eyes followed her involuntarily ; and, 
 during the whole evening, he never 
 ceased observing her, — though with such 
 cautious prudence, that no one, not even 
 herself, was conscious of his attention. ' 
 
 At the close of the entertainment,-^ 
 during which every word, action, and 
 even movement, of the happy, unsuspect- 
 ing Julia, had been the object of a never- 
 ceasing attention, and of almost severe 
 scrutiny, — ^Selwyn withdrew to his cham- 
 ber. There, however, the idea of the 
 lovely orphan still followed him : but,
 
 834 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 while he paid a ready tribute to the 
 charms of her person, he thought he 
 could perceive, that the faults he had 
 remarked in the child, would still live in 
 the woman ; and, shuddering at the pos- 
 sibility, that she might prove another 
 Hebe, he determined never to admit into 
 his breast a thought of one so unlike the 
 picture his fancy drew of feminine excel- 
 lence. Under the unperceived influence 
 of a passion, of which Julia was exclu- 
 sively the object, he soothed his feelings, 
 by resolving only to consider her as the 
 sister of a man, who now justified the 
 preference which his early worth had 
 excited. The following day witnessed 
 the same delusion; and saw Selwyn, 
 with an air of cool and reflective pru- 
 dence, determined to be convinced, that 
 the only woman who ever interested his 
 heart was altogether incapable of pro- 
 moting his happiness. In this disposi- 
 tion he was farther confirmed by the 
 sight of his mother's picture, which he
 
 CONCEALMENT. 335 
 
 now viewed as a providential warning. 
 Thus, in conscious security, he offered no 
 objection to accompany Lord Carlmaine 
 in his ride to Arlingham.
 
 836 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Cupid. — Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all 
 
 Tliat of his bounties taste ! the five best senses 
 Acknowledge thee their patron; and do come 
 Freely to 'jE;ratulate thy plenteous bosom : 
 Th' ear, taste, touch, smell, pleas'd from thy table 
 
 rise." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Edward Byngham, hearing Lord Carl- 
 maine and Selwyn were gone to Lord 
 Montrevor's hastened back, much to the 
 relief of Caroline ; who was uneasy at 
 finding Julia and herself in a situation 
 she thought would not be pleasing to her 
 mother. This interruption was not so 
 agreeable to Lord Carlmaine, who be- 
 came more and more charmed with the 
 lively spirits and conversation of Julia. 
 She had been easily prevailed on to re- 
 sume her seat at the instrument, from 
 which she had risen at the entrance of the 
 gentlemen; but Miss Montrevor could
 
 CONCEALMENT. 33T 
 
 not be persuaded to accompany her on 
 the harp, as was her custom. 
 
 His lordship hung enraptured over the 
 chair of Julia ; while Selwyn stood, with 
 his back against the wall, w^atching the 
 animated turns of her features, as they 
 varied to the expressive beauty of an 
 Italian air. It was soft and plaintive ; 
 and the countenance of the lovely singer 
 pourt rayed a soul alive to every virtuous, 
 as well as tender, feeling. Emotions 
 new, and such as he had so lately depre- 
 cated, were quickly kindling in his 
 bosom ; when, suddenly stopping, in a 
 passage of great sweetness, Julia started 
 up, exclaiming, — '^ I beg you will excuse 
 me; I must leave you,— having an ap- 
 pointment I cannot neglect; and, luckily, 
 here comes Edward ; Lady Montrevor is, 
 no doubt, also near at hand : so, my dear 
 Caroline, you know thfire is no impro- 
 priety in leaving you with these gen- 
 tlemen." 
 
 Lord Carlmaine took her hand, and
 
 838 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 would have detained her ; but, quickly 
 disengaging herself, and snatching up 
 her hat, which lay on the table, she 
 escaped through a window, that opened 
 into the park, and was out of sight in a 
 few minutes. [ 
 
 Lord Carlmaine soon after took his 
 leave, inviting Edward to accompany 
 him. Selwyn also, finding Frederick 
 was gone to Exeter, said he should go 
 and chat with Mr. and Mrs. Dermont 
 till his return; and left the house at 
 the same time. 
 
 Resolved not to indulge thoughts, 
 which his late emotions convinced him 
 would be imprudent and dangerous, Sel- 
 wyn rode on briskly ; and, making nearly 
 the circuit of the park, came to the small 
 hamlet of Brookdale, and then gave his 
 horse to the groom, with orders to wait 
 for him at Mr. Ddrmont's. This he did, 
 intending to call on the village-clerk, 
 whose son had gone abroad with him as 
 his servant ; but, having married a
 
 CONCEALMENT. 339 
 
 peasant's daughter in Switzerland, had 
 settled near his wife's family. He was 
 anxious to impart this news himself, that 
 he might be able to soften the disap-* 
 pointment of the aged father ; and recon- 
 cile him to the step his son had taken, 
 by representing the prudence of his con- 
 duct, and the respectability of the con- 
 nexion into which he had entered. 
 
 Having succeeded in these views, Sel- 
 wyn gained the extremity of the hamlet; 
 when, as he was passing the door of a 
 mean cottage, his steps were arrested by 
 the sound of a voice that appeared fami- 
 liar to him. He stopped, and the idea 
 that hastily struck him was confirmed. 
 The room, into which he now cautiously 
 looked, denoted the extreme of poverty. 
 In one corner was a lowly bed, on which 
 lay an aged woman, apparently sick. A 
 young female, — in whose face grief and 
 penury were strongly painted, — knelt, 
 with two children, by the side of the 
 bed ; at the head of which, also on her 
 q2
 
 340 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 knees, was a young woman, reading 
 aloud. 
 
 Scarcely could Selwya credit the fide- 
 lity of his senses, which told him that 
 the person thus engaged was the giddy, 
 volatile Julia Lawrence. Yet the fact 
 admitted no doubt. To no other could 
 such grace and beauty belong. Immove- 
 able from astonishment, and screened 
 from view by some foliage against the 
 house, he leaned, in fixed attention, on 
 the window. He soon discovered that 
 Miss Lawrence was reading the prayers 
 for the sick ; and he listened, with plea- 
 sure, to the melodious sound of her 
 voice, — whose impressive tones were 
 finely adapted to the solemn subject. 
 Again he almost doubted the possibility, 
 that it could be the same thoughtless 
 girl who had quitted him an hour ago. 
 
 While he still listened with unabated 
 surprise, Julia arose ; and, opening a 
 parcel that lay on the table, took from 
 thence several articles of clothing, in
 
 CONCEALMENT. 34l 
 
 which she dressed the children ; having 
 first herself removed the rags that cover- 
 ed them. Thus employed, the serious- 
 ness of devotion had disappeared from 
 her countenance ; which again shone 
 with all her natural vivacity. She now 
 proceeded to tie on her hat ; and Selwyn 
 stepped behind the corner of the house, 
 that he might not be discovered. Anxi- 
 ous to gratify his curiosity, when assured 
 of Julia's departure, he entered the cot- 
 tage, saying, he understood some one 
 there was sick, and he wished to offer 
 relief; at the same time, putting some 
 money into the hand of the young wo- 
 man, he asked several questions relative 
 to their circumstances. 
 
 By the answers he learnt, that the dis- 
 tress of these poor people was great and 
 unmerited ; that the daughter had ap- 
 plied to Lord Montrevor's steward, who 
 said his lady's list of pensioners and peti- 
 tioners was already too long by half for 
 her means. ''Fortunately, however," 
 a 3
 
 342 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 continued the old woman, ** Betsy was 
 overheard by an angel of a young lady ; 
 who, when the steward was gone, ran 
 after her with money : besides which, I 
 cannot tell you all she has done for us." 
 
 **Do you know the lady?" asked 
 Selwyn. 
 
 " Not exactly, sir ;" returned the old 
 woman : " for she strictly forbade us to 
 ask any thing about her ; but my daugh- 
 ter has found out that she comes from his 
 lordship's, close by." 
 
 " She is only just gone," said Betsy ; 
 " and has brought us a great many things, 
 besides money." 
 
 ''And, would you believe it, sir," ex- 
 claimed the mother, "that I happened 
 the other day to say, that, as my poor 
 girl cannot read, I had no one to cheer 
 me with a good book now and then, she 
 said, that she would also do that for me ; 
 and, sure enough, she has been to read 
 or pray by me almost everyday since." 
 
 Charging them not to mention him to
 
 CONCEALMENT. 343 
 
 their benefactress, and promising to see 
 them again, Selwyn departed; agitated 
 and humbled at having doubted the sen- 
 sibihty of a mind capable of such modest 
 benevolence. 
 
 In the agreeable warmth of his present 
 sensations, he blushed for having thought 
 vivacity of temper incompatible vs^ith the 
 more refined dispositions of the soul; 
 and, with self- accusation, he recollected 
 the feelings, bordering on disgust, with 
 which he had seen Julia abruptly break 
 off in a passage of music, to indulge, 
 what he then thought, some childish 
 whim. The above incident, and conse- 
 quent reflectionsj threatened to shake his 
 late resolutions, and fully occupied his 
 mind during the remainder of his walk. 
 
 In truth, Selwyn had committed an 
 error not unusual with young reasoners : 
 his survey of human nature was as yet 
 circumscribed ; and a few solitary in- 
 stances, which his memory suggested, 
 led him, on this occasion, to form general 
 q4
 
 344 CONCEALMENf. 
 
 and unwarranted conclusions. Because 
 he had seen sprightliness and levity the 
 characteristics of thoughtless unprinci- 
 pled minds, he rashly suspected, that 
 Julia's vivacity was not the exuberance 
 of healthy innocence, and youth ; but the 
 overflowing- of feelings undisciplined, and 
 impatient of control. 
 
 The return of Lord Ashmore's son and 
 nephew from their continental tour was 
 the signal for much more than usual 
 hospitality and intercourse in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; and Lord Montrevor, who had 
 private views for prolonging his stay in 
 Devonshire, took the lead in friendly 
 attentions on this occasion. 
 
 A few days after the entertainment at 
 Brookdale, the earl and his family, with 
 several of their most distinguished neigh- 
 bours, dined at Arlingham. Lord Carl- 
 maine and Selwyn thought with pleasure 
 of this visit, for reasons with which the 
 reader is well acquainted. Lady Eleanor 
 anticipated the gratification of receiving
 
 CONCEALMENT. 345 
 
 the applause and thanks, to which she 
 felt entitled, for the late successful exer- 
 tions she had made for the entertain- 
 ment of her friends. And Lady Maria 
 had also her reasons for preparing, with 
 more pleasure than usual, for this visit. 
 Mr. Fairbank likewise was happy in the 
 prospect of being able to renew his ad- 
 dresses to Caroline ; which, he had now 
 reason to believe, would stand a better 
 chance of success than those of Sir 
 Charles Ben well. 
 
 Mrs. Thornton was delighted at this 
 opportunity of introducing her daughters, 
 to the travellers, in a more particular 
 manner than had been possible at thes 
 ball. She considered Louisa as a per- 
 fect model of Grecian beauty ; and though 
 her want of energy had, perhaps, hitherto 
 prevented her settling, she thought that 
 to two young men, just returned from 
 admiring the boasted statuary and paint- 
 ing of Italy, her eldest daughter could 
 not fail to appear the most perfect of 
 Q 5
 
 346^^ CONCEALMENT. 
 
 living beauties. Jessy too, she thought, 
 might probably attract the attention of 
 one of the young men. This anxious 
 mother was also desirous that Mr. Thorn- 
 ton should cultivate the acquaintance of 
 Lord Carlmaine and Mr. Selvvyn, in the 
 hope of detaching him from the pas- 
 sionate love of field sports, which his 
 father had been so careful to cultivate. 
 
 This gentleman, the hope of the fa- 
 mily, possessed an understanding of the 
 most limited kind, and his education had 
 been barely sufficient to capacitate him 
 to succeed to his father's preferment. 
 The young men of Lord Ashmore's fa- 
 mily had known him but slightly before 
 they left England ; and the boyish age 
 of Edward and Frederick Lawrence 
 rendered them unsuitable companions 
 for Mr. Thornton; who soon devoted 
 himself to the life and habits of a sports- 
 man. And indeed this amusement, like 
 many of his equals in age and situation, 
 h(e sought, not because it suited particu-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 34? 
 
 larly his inclination, or promoted his hap- 
 piness, but because it occupied and almost 
 engrossed his mind ; because it buried 
 in oblivion the past, and rendered him 
 regardless of the future. Lately, how- 
 ever, he had discovered that the little Miss 
 Julia, with whom he had often romped 
 most agreeably, was grown up a fine 
 young woman ; and, being smitten w ith 
 the beauty of her person, — although inca- 
 pable of appreciating her other qualities, 
 he persuaded himself that marriage was 
 necessary to his happiness, and began 
 seriously to think of our heroine. 
 
 This was by no means a speculation 
 to the taste of either the doctor or Mrs. 
 Thornton, who conceived that the for-^ 
 tune and situation of their son authorised 
 much higher pretensions. They how- 
 ever determined, for the present, to offer 
 no opposition, and to take the first op- 
 portunity of sending him to visit a rela-» 
 tion at a distance. 
 
 Dr. Thornton, on this visit to Arling-
 
 S48 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ham, was in high good humour. He had 
 had a delightful day's sport, and was 
 elevated by having carried an important 
 point against Mrs. Thornton, respecting 
 Cecilia; who, while following him through 
 a wood that morning, had received a se- 
 vere blow in her face from the branch of 
 a tree; "the marks of which," said 
 he, "you see have not added to her 
 beauty. Her mother wished her to re- 
 main at home, and hide her disfigured 
 face : but, about my little Cecilia, I am 
 determined to be master ; and so here she 
 is, looking as merry as any body, and 
 thinking less than any one else of her 
 face. Oh! she is a girl not to mind 
 trifles, and has been long used to sports- 
 man's fare:" then, in a lower voice, he 
 said to Lord Carlmaine, "To be sure, it 
 was all my fault: I was so intent upon 
 some pheasants I had marked, that I for- 
 o'ot my little companion close behind, 
 and let go a large bramble, which I had 
 held back while I passed myself, directly
 
 CONCEALMENT. S49 
 
 in her face : so, to make amends, I told 
 her my beautiful mare, black Molly, 
 should be her's." 
 
 " Which, of course, healed all the lady's 
 grievances!" said his lordship, laughing 
 heartily, as did the company in general ; 
 by most of whom the doctor's generosity 
 had been overheard. Cecilia joined in 
 the laugh ♦ observing that, as she had 
 gone out of the smooth track beaten by 
 young ladies, she must expect sometimes 
 rough adventures ; and, by her good hu- 
 moured singularity, and gaite de coeur, 
 disposed every one to be pleased with 
 her, as with an untaught child of the 
 woods. 
 
 Mr. Dermont, ever placid and cheer- 
 ful, entered with rational enjoyment into 
 society, where his respectable character, 
 and urbanity of manners, never failed to 
 procure him the just tribute of deference 
 and esteem. 
 
 Mrs. Dermont had for some time de- 
 clined leaving home, but her health.
 
 350 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 consequently her spirits and temper, were 
 at this period rather better than usual. 
 His little treasure, his Emma, was per- 
 fectly well, and becoming hourly more 
 lovely, more every thing his heart could 
 wish ; and, lastly, he had at length dis- 
 burdened his mind of a secret, which the 
 curiosity of his pupil had so long solicited 
 from him ; and, with Frederick, he now 
 joined the party. Thus Lord Montrevor 
 had this day the singular good fortune 
 to see all his guests disposed to please, 
 and be pleased. 
 
 When taking their seats at table, 
 much jockey ship might have been ob- 
 served by an indifferent spectator. Sir 
 Charles Ben well and Mr. Fairbank were 
 again engaged in opposition ; each desi- 
 rous of securing a seat next Caroline, 
 who had placed herself by her father. 
 Lord Montrevor however ended the con- 
 test, by pointedly requesting Sir Charles 
 to take the vacant chair between Miss 
 Thornton and Cecilia. The disappointed
 
 CONCEALMENT. 351 
 
 baronet had no alternative ; and, leaving 
 ^lis riorht hand neio-hbour to the uninter- 
 rupted enjoyment of graceful languor, 
 soon almost forgot his vexation in the 
 interesting details of sporting adventures, 
 given and received on the other side of 
 him. Lord Carlmaine had dexterously 
 contrived to elude the post of honour, 
 and had slipped into a seat on one side 
 Julia ; while Edward Byngham had se- 
 cured the other. To effect this, Caroline 
 thought she had perceived a manoeuvre, 
 on the part of her cousin, that pained her 
 heart, and excited some sensations of 
 jealousy towards her friend. 
 
 If Mrs. Thornton was a little morti- 
 fied, at seeing Louisa occupy so unim- 
 portant a place, as that between Mr. 
 Dermont and Sir Charles Benwell, she 
 was both surprised and pleased at re- 
 marking the exclusive attention paid by 
 the latter to Cecilia. Added to which^ 
 she had the still greater satisfaction to 
 observe, that Mr. Selwyn scarcely spoke;
 
 352 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 to any one during dinner but her Jessy. 
 Lady Eleanor was much pleased with 
 the awkward, but civil attentions of 
 young Thornton ; while her niece, Lady 
 Maria, by persisting in sitting near Lord 
 Montrevor, became the neighbour of 
 Frederick. 
 
 We have been thus particular in de- 
 scribing the relative situations of the 
 company on this occasion, as some rather 
 important consequences seemed to result 
 therefrom ; and which we will commu- 
 nicate to the reader while the ladies are 
 retiring to the drawing-room. 
 
 To begin, then, with Lady Eleanor. 
 If she was gratified by the civility of her 
 neighbour, Stephen Thornton was no less 
 flattered by the approving smiles that 
 civility met with from the sister of an 
 earl. He had but rarely mixed with 
 women ; and when that did happen, his 
 person, which was remarkably heavy and 
 plain, and his manners unformed and 
 awkward, made him frequently the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 353 
 
 object of their rude neglect and ridicule. 
 Even this very day he had experienced 
 from Julia a most mortifying check. In 
 the act of presenting her a chair, before 
 dinner, he had hazarded a significant 
 pressure of her hand, which was answer- 
 ed by a contemptuous haughty look ; 
 while, instead of taking the seat he had 
 procured for her, she went to another 
 part of the room, and, squeezing herself 
 between Miss Montrevor and Jessy 
 Thornton, amused the former with the 
 account of Stephen's gallantry. This 
 was done in so loud a whisper, as not 
 only to be heard by Jessy, but also to 
 reach the ear of the mortified Stephen ; 
 who tightened his shoe-strings, drew up 
 his neck-cloth, settled the frill of his shirt, 
 and even began softly to whistle, — to 
 hide his anger and confusion, while he 
 thus felt himself the subject of Julia's ill- 
 suppressed merriment. So sudden and 
 severe was the resentment thus excited, 
 that he inwardly cursed his past folly, and
 
 854 CONCEALMENT, 
 
 vowed never to tease himself again by a 
 thought of a saucy minx, who did not 
 deserve his affection. 
 
 Thus early did our thoughtless heroine 
 chill the flame of love in one of her ad- 
 mirers. We will not attempt to defend 
 her ; but hope she will mend as she grows 
 older. This was not the first rebuff 
 which poor Stephen, now turned of 
 thirty, had experienced. He had already 
 offered his heart and hand to several 
 ladies ; but, whether the young man had 
 been too presuming or too diffident, too 
 hasty or too backward, or from what 
 other cause we cannot tell, he had so ill 
 chosen the objects of his preference, that 
 he had not only been rejected, but often, 
 as on the present occasion, his advances 
 were received with provoking contempt. 
 
 At dinner, however. Lady Eleanor 
 found means to reconcile him to himself; 
 and he began almost to think, that the 
 attentions with which he was now fa- 
 voured were nearly equivalent to those
 
 CONCEALMENT, 355 
 
 of any of the giggling young misses he 
 had known. Pleased therefore with each 
 other, both thought that Lady Montrevor 
 was unusually early in withdrawing. 
 
 The time of dinner, that had passed 
 thus agreeably with the aunt, had been 
 little less so to the niece ; who had been 
 much pleased with the companion chance 
 had given her. Frederick, from a child, 
 had been a favourite with Lady Maria 
 Carlmaine ; and though, on the evening 
 of the ball, he had rather offended her, 
 yet when they again met she had almost 
 forgotten the cause. No one was more 
 certain of success whenever she stooped 
 to please ; and this she now did, with 
 such becoming grace, that even the diffi- 
 dent, retiring Frederick, was lulled into 
 forgetfulness of the distance between 
 them, and became unconscious of her 
 awe-inspiring manners. 
 
 Such a state of mind was highly to his 
 advantage, as he was thereby almost un- 
 knowingly led to take his full share of the
 
 366 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 conversation, much to the satisfaction of 
 Lady Maria ; who, while she admired the 
 animation and intelligence of his fine 
 manly countenance, readily subscribed to 
 the justice of the observations he had 
 been induced to make on the topics that 
 had occurred. Thus was another duet 
 too soon disturbed by Lady Montrevor^s 
 sional. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine had been also charmed 
 with the situation he had procured. 
 Julia's spirits were, as usual, in alto. 
 Her own heart was perfectly at ease, and 
 she w^as, consequently, at leisure to re- 
 mark and fancy what w^as passing, and 
 much more, in the minds of those around 
 her. Observing the smiles of Lady 
 Eleanor, while listening to young Thorn- 
 ton, she advised Lord Carlmaine to make 
 up his mind to the loss of a handsome 
 legacy ; for her ladyship's fortune would 
 of course follow the inclinations of her 
 heart : she also added, she was sure no- 
 thing but the most interesting conversa-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 357 
 
 tion could make Lady Eleanor so forget- 
 ful, as to turn her back completely on 
 poor Dr. Thornton, who did not yet 
 seem disposed to take his usual nap. 
 
 Many lively sallies of a like nature, 
 during dinner, had delighted Lord Carl- 
 maine, rendered Julia more easy of ac- 
 cess, and emboldened him to express the 
 admiration with which she inspired him. 
 His compliments, however, made no im- 
 pression on Julia ; for her heart took no 
 interest in them. Her memory was 
 stored, also, with many far more extra- 
 vagant ; and, besides, his lordship was 
 just returned from the Continent, — 
 where, she understood, such language 
 was current, and ranked no higher than 
 the usual forms of civility. She did not 
 like the strange and rude way with which 
 he stared at her ; but that, she supposed, 
 was also foreign. His manners Were, in 
 other respects, elegant, and he was re- 
 markably entertaining; she therefore
 
 358 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 readily allowed him to share with Edward 
 the pleasure of amusing her. 
 
 The heart of the latter was still fluc- 
 tuating. He really loved Caroline ; but, 
 smarting under feelings of newly-awaken- 
 ed jealousy, she had shewn so much pet- 
 tish resentment, that her cousin, mis- 
 taking both the cause and effect of her 
 uneasiness, had sought to please Julia 
 with increasing earnestness. Caroline 
 indeed, during dinner, to the mortifica- 
 tion of her admirer, appeared reserved 
 and uneasy ; so difficult is it in youth to 
 dress the features at pleasure. 
 
 Not more enviable were the emotions 
 that agitated the bosom of Selwyn, 
 though possessing perfect self-command. 
 Seated nearly opposite Julia, he lost not a 
 look, and scarcely a word, that escaped her; 
 though he was, to all appearance, much 
 interested by the chat of his agreeable 
 neighbour. Many circumstances, indi- 
 vidually trifling, but collectively im-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 3-59 
 
 portant, since the scene at the cottage, 
 had occurred to strengthen his opinion, 
 — that, however humane her disposition 
 might be, the feminine delicacy, and 
 steady correctness of feeling, to which 
 alone his heart could yield, were un- 
 known to Julia Lawrence. Still to see 
 her thus at ease and playful, with such a 
 man as Lord Carlmaine, gave him very 
 uncomfortable feelings ; and he thought 
 the dinner had been of a most tedious 
 length. 
 
 Here Selwyn was the victim of self- 
 deception. Had not secret jealousy 
 awakened his fears, and given a wrong 
 direction to his discernment, he would 
 have seen that Julia's easy intercourse 
 with Lord Carlmaine, and apparent le- 
 vity, were, in truth, nothing more than 
 the robe of innocence, the spontaneous 
 eifusions of a mind, satisfied with itself, 
 and in good humour with all the world. 
 
 In the drawing-room Lady Eleanor 
 paid Mrs. Thornton many agreeable
 
 '660 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 compliments on the good looks of Mr. 
 Stephen ; who was growing, she said, 
 quite lusty, and very like the doctor. 
 Mrs. Thornton bowed, while the young 
 ladies smiled, and wondered where it 
 was possible to trace a likeness between 
 Stephen and his father, who was still a 
 handsome man. 
 
 Lady Montrevor, to stop a conversation 
 which seemed likely to expose the weak- 
 ness of her guest, and, consequently, 
 wound the feelings of Lady Maria, rose 
 to lead the way to the green-house, to 
 shew a rare plant, then in blossom. Lady 
 Maria, as well as Mrs. Thornton, was 
 very fond of flowers, and remained in the 
 green-house, while the rest of the party 
 returned to the drawing-room ; when 
 Lady Eleanor led the conversation to the 
 late entertainment at Brookdale. 
 
 Having, by a look round, ascertained 
 that there was no one present she could 
 displease, Julia bestowed the most extra- 
 vagant praise on every part of the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 361 
 
 arrangement. In this she was most ably 
 seconded by Edward Byngham, who 
 soon after came in ; and, entering into all 
 the spirit of the joke, protested he had 
 never heard any thing half so enchanting 
 as the air of the captivating For tuna. 
 
 '^ A-propos^'' cried Julia; '* might I 
 take the liberty of asking from whence 
 your ladyship took it ; as my brother, 
 who fancies he has a taste for poetry, 
 was greatly struck with the words." 
 
 "And does Mr. Lawrence really ad- 
 mire themi" asked Lady Eleanor, with 
 affected modesty. 
 
 ''Indeed he was delighted," answered 
 Julia ; " and has often regretted the un- 
 lucky interruption by which we all lost 
 the conclusion." 
 
 " Oh !" cried her ladyship, " the loss is 
 not irreparable : I think I can give him 
 a copy." 
 
 Never had our heroine appeared in 
 such an amiable light to Lady Eleanor,
 
 362 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 who made her sit down close by her to 
 have a little chat. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine, with Selwyn and 
 Frederick, now entered; when Julia, 
 calling the latter to her, said, — "I have 
 been telling Lady Eleanor, my dear 
 Fred, how pleased you were with the 
 song of Fortuna ; and she is so obliging 
 as to promise you a copy." 
 
 ''Indeed, Mr. Lawrence," said Lady 
 Eleanor, with a smile of self-compla- 
 cency; '' I feel highly flattered that any 
 humble effort of mine should attract your 
 attention : but it is a mere trifle — the 
 production of an hour — the very worst of 
 my poetical eff^usions." 
 
 The blood suffused the cheeks of Fre- 
 derick, and he cast an angry glance at his 
 sister ; who hastily made her escape, half 
 alarmed at the trick she had played her 
 brother, leaving him to extricate himself 
 as well as he could. Luckily Mr. Der- 
 mont, at this moment, expressed his
 
 CONCEALMENT. 363 
 
 wish to return home. Frederick was 
 instantly on his feet, and resigned his 
 seat with great pleasure to Stephen 
 Thornton, who had been twirling, with 
 great perseverance and animation, one of 
 the bell-ropes near Lady Eleanor's chair. 
 After the departure of Mr. Dermont, 
 Mrs. Thornton requested that Lady 
 Eleanor would petition for some music. 
 Her ladyship was still looking the agree- 
 able, — while Mr. Stephen was describing, 
 with minute accuracy, a cock-fight, at 
 which he had lately shewn great judg- 
 ment, — and she nodded to his mother, but 
 suffered him to finish his narration be- 
 fore she would attend to any thing else. 
 Our young sportsman, who was not 
 accustomed to such flattering attention, 
 was determined to make the most of the 
 opportunity, and never quitted the side 
 of her ladyship, notwithstanding the 
 smiles, winks, and frowns of his mother 
 and sisters. 
 
 Miss Thornton, at the entreaty of her 
 r2
 
 864 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 mother, sat down to Caroline's harp ; 
 but, having struck a few cords, she pro- 
 tested, very pathetically, that the exertion 
 was more than her nerves were equal to, 
 and resigned the instrument to Miss 
 Montrevor ; who sang and played, accom- 
 panied by her cousin, with more than her 
 usual taste, sweetness, and spirit. 
 
 Edward felt charmed, and his heart 
 was forcibly drawn towards Caroline; 
 but the dread, so common to moderate 
 capacities, of being governed, determined 
 him to check these sentiments, and shew 
 his independence, by refusing longer to 
 sanction arrangements, which had been 
 made without his concurrence. 
 
 To this he was farther induced, by the 
 admiration with which he perceived 
 Julia inspired nearly all who approached 
 her; among whom, when she distinguish- 
 ed him with the goodrhumoured freedom, 
 in which they had lived from childhood, 
 he mistook the pleasing feelings of grati- 
 fied vanity, which he experienced, for
 
 CONCEALMENT. 365 
 
 growing affection. As, however, neither 
 the passions nor feeUngs of Edward 
 Byngham were ever troublesome from 
 an excess of warmth, he was at leisure 
 to proceed with all due caution, and to 
 ascertain what would, in all probability, 
 tend most to his own advantage and 
 gratification. 
 
 Julia also, after Jessy Thornton, took 
 her seat at the piano-forte ; to which she 
 was led by Lord Carlmaine, and imme- 
 diately followed by young Byngham, 
 both of whom rapturously applauded her 
 voice and masterly execution. Being 
 herself remarkably fond of music, she 
 \Yas easily prevailed on to keep her seat 
 till the carriages were announced, when 
 Lady Maria Carlmaine entered from the 
 adjoining library with Selwyn. 
 
 When Mr. Dermont went away. Lady 
 Maria had requested permission to look 
 for an edition of Dante, which Lord 
 Montrevor had promised to lend her to 
 compare witli her own. This was 
 e8
 
 366 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 readily granted; and her ladyship, in 
 conformity with her usual unsociable 
 manners, had remained there till the last 
 moment. 
 
 Selwyb had listened with much atten- 
 tion to the several performances of Miss 
 Montrevor and Jessy Thornton ; but, 
 when Julia prepared to contribute her 
 part to the general amusement, he arose, 
 and followed Lady Maria to the library. 
 This step had cost him some effort ; but 
 he remembered how enchanted he had 
 been, a few days before, with our he- 
 roine's voice and manner of singing ; and, 
 after the various observations he had since 
 made on the apparent levity of her cha- 
 racter, and the interest he could not 
 conceal from himself she had excited in 
 his mind, he resolutely determined to 
 avoid, in future, every occasion likely to 
 increase that interest. 
 
 Julia had not noticed his leaving the 
 room; but when, after his departure, 
 Caroline made some remark on the sin-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 36T 
 
 gularity of his doing so, as he was parti- 
 cularly fond of music, her vanity was 
 rather piqued ; and, on further reflection, 
 she recollected that, during the afternoon, 
 he had not once spoken to her, — though 
 she had frequently observed his eyes fixed 
 upon her in what she called ill-natured 
 scrutiny. 
 
 *' I do not think he ever liked me 
 much," said this artless girl ; " and now, 
 I believe, he disapproves all I say and 
 do : but his opinion is, I am sure, very 
 indifferent to me, and I shall certainly 
 seize some opportunity of giving him 
 that information." 
 
 " Take care, my dear girl," returned 
 Lady Montrevor; ''how you admit such 
 independent ideas. Women in general, 
 and more especially at your age, ought 
 to value the favourable opinion of every 
 virtuous and intelligent mind; they want, 
 in a thousand instances through life, that 
 encouraging support ; and, though no 
 generous spirit would seek it by unwor- 
 r4
 
 368 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 thy means, it is always a most desirable 
 suffrage." 
 
 ''Without your good opinion, my 
 dearest madam," answered Julia, '' and 
 that of several other valued friends, I do 
 not think I could live : but while I shall 
 ever endeavour to preserve what I prize 
 so highly, and feel no reproaches from my 
 own heart, I think I can dispense w^ith 
 the approbation of Mr. Selwyn." 
 
 The warmth of Julia's feelings had in- 
 creased during this conversation ; and 
 she sought her chamber, wdth sensations 
 of resentment and rising dislike towards 
 Selwyn, which she did not stop to exa- 
 mine, and which the occasion assuredly 
 did not justify.
 
 CONCEALMENT, S6S^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " And shame and doubt impell'd him in a course, 
 Once so abhoir'd, with unresisted force. 
 Proud minds and guilty, whom their crimes oppress, 
 Fly to new crimes for comfort and redress." 
 
 CRABBE. 
 
 The day before the meeting just de- 
 scribed, Mr. Byngham had been called 
 to Bath by the information, that his wife 
 was dangerously ill. This was a sum- 
 mons he had often received since their 
 separation, and which he had always 
 conscientiously attended ; on which occa- 
 sions he had generally found her much 
 less ill than had been represented ; and 
 these interviews had ended in increased 
 disgust on one side, and peevish re- 
 proaches on the other. Those years, 
 that might have been the most valuable 
 and happy of her life, had flown by with 
 R 6
 
 370 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the ill-judging Louisa, marked only by a 
 succession of puerile enjoyments, and 
 self-sought disappointments. Her mind 
 was weak, her heart vain, cold, and self- 
 ish^ but not vicious : though, therefore, 
 her character presented no warm gleams 
 of even transient virtue, neither had any 
 suspicion of guilt or glaring impropriety 
 sullied her reputation. Satisfied with 
 the very ample means she received from 
 her husband, of gratifying her expensive 
 wishes, and content with the trifling- 
 mode of life she had adopted, which 
 imposed neither duties or restraint, — she 
 never sought a re-union, which she was 
 aware would subject her to both. Yet, 
 with her natural inconsistency, she re- 
 sented what she called the neglect and 
 unkindness of Mr. Byngham, in never 
 having renewed the solicitations he had 
 once made ; and at each meeting her 
 temper appeared to have become more 
 soured. 
 
 Over a mind of such apathy and sel-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 371 
 
 fishness, the claims of maternal affection 
 had but very little influence. When, 
 therefore, Edward accompanied his father 
 in his visits to his mother, the latter chose 
 always to suppose he had been taught to 
 blame and dislike her : while her son, 
 whose sensibility was not of a very lively 
 cast, considered her only as a mother, 
 who had voluntarily forsaken him in 
 childhood, and embittered the life of his 
 father. Under the influence of such 
 feelings, it was no wonder, that they 
 usually parted without regret, as they had 
 met without any emotions of pleasure. 
 
 When Mr. Byngham arrived at Bath, 
 he found his wife afflicted by a severe 
 pulmonary attack, which induced him to 
 propose his remaining near her till she 
 became better. Previous suffering had 
 made Mrs. Byngham much more suscep- 
 tible of kindness, and she received the 
 offer with expressions of gratitude. Mr. 
 Byngham having therefore written to his
 
 372 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 son, signifying his intention of remain- 
 ing at Bath ; and, promising to write if 
 any more alarming symptoms occurred 
 in his mother's situation, prepared to 
 share Mrs. Leslie's attendance on her 
 daughter, and to relieve, as much as was 
 in his power, the mind and body of 
 Louisa ; both which were at this time 
 almost equally afflicted. 
 
 In performing this painful task, Mr. 
 Byngham experienced a melancholy sa- 
 tisfaction ; and the consciousness of dis- 
 charging an act of duty, renewed some- 
 what of that energy which had been 
 nipped in the bud of life, and had ever 
 since been gradually declining. While 
 then he thought that, but for the unfor- 
 tunate mistake of his father, the being 
 before him — and who was probably has- 
 tening to an early grave, — might have 
 formed, and been deserving of, some 
 happier union ; the want of judgment and 
 forbearance, that had marked his own
 
 CONCEALMENT. 373 
 
 conduct towards her, rose to his mind, 
 and filled it with self-accusations. 
 
 Mr. Byngham could not, however, 
 justly reproach himself with any recol- 
 lections of ill-usage, or habitual unkind- 
 ness, towards this weak, imprudent 
 woman ; but her helpless, afflicted situa- 
 tion, softened his mind, and awakened his 
 compassion, in the benevolent sympathy 
 which he felt for her present sufferings. 
 
 Mrs. Byngham's illness excited, in the 
 mean time, no extraordinary sensation at 
 Arlingham. Edward had little reason to 
 care about his mother; and Lady Mon- 
 trevor felt only the interest prompted by 
 feelings of compassionate benevolence 
 towards a woman, to whom she attri- 
 buted the unhappiness which had, during 
 many years, clouded the life of her bro- 
 ther. Thus no interruption occurred to 
 the interchange of friendly visits that at 
 this time more particularly enlivened the 
 scene of our drama. 
 
 In addition to Lady Montrevor's per-
 
 374 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 sonal sufferings, — to which religion, time, 
 and a consciousness of not having me- 
 rited them, had taught a saint-Hke resig- 
 nation, — she now began to tremble for 
 Caroline, on whose fate all that remained 
 of her own wrecked happiness was 
 staked. 
 
 The increasing attention and deference 
 of her husband towards Mr. Fairbank, 
 led her to suspect the fact, namely, that 
 forgetful of the tacit, if not avowed, sanc- 
 tion he had given to an union between 
 Edward and Caroline, he now, from 
 sordid motives, favoured the views of 
 that contemptible young man. She had 
 also begun to fancy she saw occasionally 
 sio^ns of secret uneasiness in her daus^h- 
 ter ; but, herself engrossed by the idea of 
 Mr. Fairbank, she had sought no farther 
 for the cause of Caroline's frequent de- 
 pression of spirits, and concluded, that 
 she likewise entertained fears of her fa- 
 ther's intentions. 
 
 Lord Montrevor w^as still governed by
 
 CONCEALMENT. 375 
 
 the unworthy object of his guilty infa- 
 tuation, — the abandoned Vittoria ; who, 
 though arrogant and capricious, seemed 
 to have found the art to fetter the senses, 
 and almost fix the fickle taste, of her 
 lover. Not bnt what there were many 
 hours when Montrevor bitterly felt the 
 galling yoke to which he had submitted ; 
 but whatever natural fortitude his mind 
 originally might have been endowed with, 
 had long since, by quick gradations, sunk 
 in a vortex of follies and vice. The other 
 latent virtues of his heart had soon fol- 
 lowed; till, as now, he drowned the 
 reproaches of his conscience, and smo- 
 thered the occasional pleadings of his 
 own heart in favour of a deserving wife, 
 and checked the risings of nature in be- 
 half of an only child, by drinking still 
 deeper of the poisonous draughts of illicit 
 pleasures, and plunging farther into de- 
 moralizing pursuits. 
 
 He had not arrived at this stao^e of 
 depravity without involving his finances
 
 376 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 in a most ruinous degree; and, as the 
 greatest part of his property was entailed, 
 and, in default of male heirs, passed to a 
 distant branch of the family, his resources 
 were very circumscribed. His brother- 
 in-law had often stood his friend, and 
 therefore they had always been on good 
 terms; the one from selfish considera- 
 tions, the other from affectionate regard 
 for the peace of his sister. But, latterly. 
 Lord Montrevor's demands on Mr. Byng- 
 ham for pecuniary assistance had been 
 so large and frequent, that the latter 
 found it necessary to decline adding to a 
 debt already very considerable. 
 
 Irritated, and ungratefully forgetting 
 the many accommodations formerly re- 
 ceived, but not daring, under present 
 circumstances, to give vent to his feel- 
 ings, Montrevor endeavoured to conceal 
 them, resolving to lose no time in raising 
 the money, of which he should soon be 
 most desperately in need. Luckily for 
 these plans, he at this time became ac-
 
 CONCEALMENT* 377 
 
 guainted with Mr. Fairbanks and almost 
 as soon perceived that he was an admirer 
 of his daughter. This was a happy dis- 
 covery ; and the debased mind of Lord 
 Montrevor did not reject the idea of 
 sacrificino^ Carohne to his own dis2:race- 
 ful necessity, and bartering her happiness 
 for sums, which he could not even hope 
 would long delay the critical moment, 
 when every resource would inevitably 
 fail ; to which, in spite of all the delu- 
 sions of fancy, his soul involuntarily 
 looked forward, in the hours of gloom and 
 remorse, — which, however unwelcome, 
 still would come. 
 
 His irregularities and necessities had 
 taught his once high and generous mind 
 to bend submissive to the frequent prac- 
 tice of the meanest arts ; for — 
 
 " He that stands upon a slipp'ry place, 
 Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up." 
 
 To Mr. Fairbank's proposals respect- 
 ing his daughter, he gave a ready assent,
 
 378 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 encouraging him to endeavour to secure 
 her affection, and promising every assis- 
 tance in his power towards his success. 
 In the mean time, he determined to draw 
 upon the purse of his future son-in-law ; 
 who, he knew, in addition to a liberal 
 allowance from his father, had inherited 
 a large estate from an uncle ; besides 
 which, he was certain Fairbank never 
 played, and, excepting for fine cambric, 
 and essences, was not expensive ; conse- 
 quently, must be in possession of a con- 
 siderable sum of ready money. The lover 
 received the friendly professions of Lord 
 Montrevor with gratitude ; and, satisfied 
 w ith the assurance of the latter, that he 
 would never give his consent to Miss 
 Montrevor's marrying Sir Charles Ben- 
 well, agreed to furnish Lord Montrevor 
 with the sum he immediately wanted ; 
 and thus the bargain was settled. 
 
 The suspicions of Lady Montrevor 
 fell, of course, very far short of these in- 
 famous particulars. Estranged from,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 87& 
 
 and regardless of, his family, as her hus- 
 band had long been, never could her 
 pure mind have admitted the idea, that 
 the man, on whom she had bestowed her 
 warmest, most exalted affections, was 
 capable of half such baseness ; or that he 
 would sacrifice to avarice or ambition 
 the peace of his child. 
 
 She therefore only thought it possible, 
 that, dazzled by the affluence of Mr. 
 Fairbank, he might wish the alliance ; 
 though of tiiat she could not be certain, 
 as she had sometimes thought he favoured 
 the pretensions of Sir Charles Ben well. 
 As, however, he had never entered with 
 her upon the subject, and it was possible 
 she might have unnecessarily alarmed 
 herself, she resolved, at least for the pre- 
 sent, to confine these painful conjectures 
 to her bosom. 
 
 Lord Montrevor, regardless of the dis- 
 tressful apprehensions which he had ex- 
 cited in the mind of his wife, felt satisfied 
 fo¥ the present with the means he had
 
 8S@ CONCEALMENT. 
 
 devised of meeting some pressing* debts, 
 and of supporting his habits of dissipa- 
 tion and profligacy. So matured and 
 hackneyed was he in the ways of wicked- 
 ness ! So gradually and fatally had want 
 of thought and self-discipline led him to 
 neglect the calls of duty ! 
 
 Lady Montrevor knew the heart of 
 Caroline had from infancy appeared to 
 select Edward for its companion : she 
 believed that the latter loved his cousin ; 
 and, though she could have wished his 
 mind more richly endowed, she trusted 
 he had sufficient virtue of character to 
 ensure the happiness of the woman he 
 had chosen. The faults of Edward had 
 not escaped the observation of his aunt ; 
 but she viewed them through the favour- 
 able medium of a tender prepossession. 
 If, in the heart of Edward, she saw none 
 of those generous, youthful feelings, — 
 which, with untaught ardour, become 
 enamoured of virtue, and, without wait- 
 ing for the approval of reason, instinc-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 381 
 
 lively follow her dictates, — yet she be- 
 lieved the qualities of his mind were 
 more than negatively good ; requiring, 
 indeed, the aid of direction and cultiva- 
 tion, but capable of a right discrimination 
 and perseverance ; and peculiarly fitted 
 to receive improvement from the gentle 
 influence of Caroline's superior under- 
 standin": and unassumins: manners. 
 
 Edward was also the only son of a 
 beloved brother, to whom kindred mis- 
 fortunes had linked her more closely, and 
 who had joined with her in earnestly 
 wishing the union of their children. To 
 this union she had looked, through years 
 of tears and sorrows, with a romantic 
 anxiety, which still gave a melancholy 
 charm to her existence. For her own 
 happiness, this amiable ill-paired wo- 
 man sought now only beyond the grave ; 
 and it was for that of the dear objects 
 with which heaven, to reward her vir- 
 tues, had surrounded her, that her heart
 
 382 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 still dilated with hope, or trembled with 
 apprehension. 
 
 Lord Carlmaine, during this time, 
 continued his attentions to Julia with 
 unremitting assiduities. She still thought 
 him very clever, very lively, and very 
 amusing ; but he could get no farther. 
 She met him without embarrassment, and 
 she scarcely noticed his absence. This 
 he perceived, and, piqued at having pro- 
 duced so little effect, where he thought 
 his conquest would have been easy, he 
 became more eager in the pursuit ; and 
 determined to take more pains in recon- 
 noitring the ground, and in subduing 
 the indifference of this lovely girl, who 
 appeared all warmth, impetuosity, and 
 indiscretion, in every thing but love. 
 For, after strictly watching her, he was 
 convinced she had no predilection for 
 any of the men with whom he had seen 
 her ; nor, on inquiry, could he hear of any 
 one likely to have engaged her affections.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 383 
 
 This young nobleman had acquired, 
 and fully deserved, among his acquain- 
 tance, the reputation of a professed liber- 
 tine : by which we do not mean the gross 
 sensualist, or avowed despiser of the 
 forms of virtue, but a character far more 
 designing and dangerous ; that of a man 
 who, under the garb of elegance, open- 
 ness, and every social attraction, disarms 
 suspicion, becomes respected and che- 
 rished ; whilst, by this profound dissi- 
 mulation, he studiously seeks to sacrifice 
 the peace of others on the altar of his 
 selfish unbridled passion. It is no credit 
 to human nature to add, that the blind 
 and vicious folly of Lord Carlmaine 
 made him prize a reputation of this kind 
 as a good man would that of honour and 
 honesty. 
 
 The plan, therefore, of a systematic 
 seduction (for matrimony had formed no 
 part of his scheme,) had nothing in it to 
 damp his enterprising genius; while suc- 
 cess with so lovely an object would, he
 
 384 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 thought, well reward his trouble. Carl- 
 maine saw too well the difficulties and 
 obstacles to his designs, not to be con- 
 vinced that the utmost care and caution 
 would be necessary ; not more towards 
 the lady herself, than the many observing 
 friends, by whom she was surrounded, 
 loved, and guarded. 
 
 He resolved therefore to limit his pre- 
 sent views to the familiarising both Julia 
 and her friends to the easy intercourse 
 her incautious vivacity had already ena- 
 bled him to establish between them ; 
 while he reckoned that his progress 
 would advance much more rapidly after 
 the departure of Edward and Frederick. 
 Of the first he thought but little, con- 
 ceiving he could at any time deceive or 
 w in his vacillating mind to approve al- 
 most any thing. But, from the watchful 
 penetration of an aifectionate brother's 
 eye, he already shrunk with all the 
 cowardice of premeditated guilt, and was 
 therefore anxious for his departure.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 385 
 
 Gladly would he have sent Selwyn 
 also with them ; for, however he aifected 
 to despise, what he called, his pusillani- 
 mous conduct, he ever feared his virtue : 
 nay more, he loved him, and would en- 
 dure from him checks and reproofs that 
 no one else would hazard ; so involuntary 
 is the homage paid to real unassuming 
 worth, by every heart that is not wholly 
 depraved. 
 
 In his cousin, indeed, if Carlmaine 
 sought in vain a flattering sycophant, or 
 a licentious companion in his de- 
 baucheries, he had ever found, in the 
 hour of need, and once during a long and 
 painful illness abroad, a generous, tender 
 friend ; disposed to bear w^ith the petu- 
 lance of his humours, willing to extricate 
 him from the many embarrassments into 
 'which his own follies, and the excitement 
 of Lucas, had led him; and, would he 
 have permitted it, ready to lead him back 
 to the paths of honour and integrity, 
 from which he had so widely strayed.
 
 386 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Oh how this spring of love resembleth 
 Th' uncertain glory of an April day, 
 
 Which now shews all the beauty of the sun, 
 And by and by a cloud takes all away." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 A FEW days previous to the departure of 
 young Byngham and Frederick for Ox- 
 ford, the latter, while in the small study 
 Mr. Dermont had always allowed him 
 to call his own, was alarmed by piercing 
 screams from the room above, which he 
 knew was that of Emma. 
 
 He was at the door in an instant ; 
 which being open, he immediately be- 
 held the lovely child enveloped in flames. 
 Terror, at this shocking sight, did not, 
 however, deprive him of his presence of 
 mind. He caught her in his arms, threw 
 her on the ground, and attempted to
 
 CONCEALMENT. 387 
 
 wrap the carpet around her; but he found 
 that it was fastened down. 
 
 Again he raised her up ; and, pressing 
 her close to him, endeavoured to check 
 the flames. Then, calling loudly for that 
 assistance which he began to dread he 
 could not give, and turning his eyes, 
 with anxious terror, round the room, they 
 fell on the large window-curtain, which 
 he hastily wrapped round the senseless 
 Emma, still closely encircling her, as 
 well to extinguish the fire, as to support 
 her. Unfortunately, all the family were 
 at this time engaged beyond the reach of 
 Frederick's voice ; till, at length, when 
 his strength began to fail from alarm 
 and exertion, his screams reached Mr. 
 Dermont, who was in his study at a dis- 
 tant part of the house. On entering the 
 room, he was struck with horror and 
 amazement at the scene before him. 
 Frederick was supporting himself with 
 one arm against the wall, while with the 
 other he clasped Emma as firmly a» he 
 s2
 
 388 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 was able. His face was pale as ashes, 
 except where blackened by the flame and 
 smoke. His hair was half consumed ; 
 and great part of his neckcloth, frill, and 
 waistcoat was also burnt. The thought 
 of his daughter immediately occurred to 
 Mr. Dermont ; and, in answer to his 
 eager inquiry, Frederick, cautiously un- 
 folding part of the curtain, placed the 
 little sufferer in his arms, and then sunk^ 
 almost fainting, to the ground. 
 
 The first glance at his child explained 
 the whole scene. Her life was spared ; 
 and, having laid her on the bed, he has- 
 tened to raise Frederick, who, under 
 Heaven, had been the instrument of her 
 preservation. The first words of his 
 friend inspired new vigour into the mind 
 and frame of our hero ; who hastily ap- 
 proached the bed, and with joy beheld 
 the glow of re-animation gradually 
 spreading over the face of the still bewil- 
 dered girl ; whose slow opening eyes 
 rested on Frederick, and as recollection
 
 CONCEALMENT. 389 
 
 returned, spoke, more than words could 
 have done, the warm gratitude with 
 which her heart was full. By degrees 
 she became quite composed, and com-^ 
 plained but little of the effects of fire ; 
 adding, that, had it not been for dear 
 Fred, she was sure nothing could have 
 saved her, and she must have died of 
 fright. She noticed the proofs, in Fre- 
 derick's appearance, of the danger to 
 which her accident had also exposed 
 him, and her soft blue eyes swam in 
 tears. Her father hung over her in agony 
 of speechless tenderness, while he pressed 
 close to his heart the hand of the pre- 
 server of his daughter. 
 
 All this had occupied the space but of 
 one short half hour. Mr. Dermont had 
 instantly, on the appearance of a servant, 
 sent for a surgeon ; and, seeing there was 
 no cause for farther alarm, was leaving 
 the room to communicate himself the 
 particulars of the accident to Mrs. Der- 
 mont, when, as Frederick prepared to 
 s3
 
 390 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 follow, Emma said, — ^' Little did you 
 think, my dear Fred, that the pretty 
 creature you gave me would occasion so 
 much mischief." 
 
 She then proceeded to inform them, 
 that, while endeavouring to catch Fro- 
 lick, (the name she had given her squir- 
 rel,) who had broken his chain, he ran 
 up the chimney, and that, in looking up 
 after him, her clothes had caught fire ; 
 '^ and so," she added, bursting into tears, 
 " besides Frederick's being burnt, I shall 
 never see my dear Frolick again." Mr. 
 Dermont, assuring her he would procure 
 her one much handsomer, left her to the 
 care of the attendants. 
 
 The surgeon soon arrived ; and, as he 
 pronounced Miss Dermont to have re- 
 ceived but slight injury from an accident 
 which, but for timely assistance, must 
 have been fatal, Mrs. Dermont bore the 
 shock better than could have been ex- 
 pected. Emma, too, was in a few hours 
 able to sit up, and receive Frederick,
 
 CONCEALMENT. 89 1 
 
 who eagerly requested admittance. When 
 he entered, she was inexpressibly de- 
 lighted to behold a cage in his hand, 
 containing a prisoner, which she imme- 
 diately recognised as her lost favourite 
 — the truant Frolick. She received him 
 with mingled caresses and reproaches, 
 and thanked Frederick numberless times 
 for the good-natured trouble he had 
 taken ; making him give her, over and 
 over again, the history of his chace after 
 him, and all his alternate hopes and 
 fears. This accident, that might have 
 been so fatal, served only to attach Mr. 
 Dermont and his family still more to this 
 son of their adoption. 
 
 If Selwyn, from the dictates of a cau- 
 tious virtue, with fears for the future 
 tranquillity of his mind, and the preser- 
 vation of principles he had long cherish- 
 ed, determined to renounce the dangerous 
 pleasure of Julia's society, — he resolved 
 to make himself amends by assiduously 
 seeking that of her brother ; daring not 
 s4
 
 392 COiVCEALMENT. 
 
 to ask himself, whether his present con- 
 duet was influenced by Frederick's 
 merits, or by their association in his 
 nciind with Julia's beauty and attractions. 
 In this purpose he was confirmed, by 
 finding every one warm in commendation 
 of the excellence of Frederick's under- 
 standing, and the goodness of his heart. 
 Lord Montrevor praised him highly, 
 while he regretted the almost melancholy 
 turn which too much study had given 
 him. Lady Montrevor and Mr. Byng- 
 ham spoke of him with almost parental 
 affection : but it was from Mr. Dermont 
 that Selwyn learnt to penetrate the lead- 
 ing features of the character, and appre- 
 ciate justly the merits, of his young 
 friend. 
 
 The subject had been started the day 
 after the accident we lately recorded ; 
 when it may naturally be supposed that 
 the heart of this affectionate parent, — 
 over which the freezing hand of time had 
 passed powerless, leaving it glowing with
 
 CONCEALMENT. 393 
 
 all the warm benevolence that had mark- 
 ed his youth, — was more than usually 
 disposed to commend the character of 
 Frederick. 
 
 He did, indeed, paint him as all that 
 was fair, honourable, and promising, in 
 youth, with one, — "Aye," said he, " with 
 one little speck, which, in common 
 minds, might almost pass for a virtue : 
 I mean, a want of confidence in his own 
 merits, (a rare defect, you'll say ;) and, I 
 may add, a refined sensibility, to which 
 I fear he may, in his progress through 
 fife, owe many a painful hour." 
 
 Tears rose to the good man's eyes, and 
 he-paused a moment ; then proceeded to 
 express the satisfaction he experienced in 
 the disposition shewn by Selwyn to be- 
 stow his friendship and support on a 
 youth, who would, he knew, prove every 
 way worthy his regard. During this 
 conversation, Selwyn had been several 
 times on the point of making, also, some 
 inquiries respecting Julia ; but, at length, 
 s5
 
 394 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 what he deemed discretion conquered ; 
 and as Mr. Dermont was too much en- 
 grossed by a subject so interesting to 
 him as an eulogium on young Lawrence, 
 to admit at that time the thought of any 
 one else, they parted without his sister 
 having been named. 
 
 This accidental, but total, silence re- 
 specting Julia, was hastily interpreted to 
 her disadvantage by Selwyn ; who, gra- 
 tified however with having discovered in 
 Frederick a mind congenial with his 
 own, resolved to cherish the intercourse 
 by every demonstration of friendship ; 
 while he proposed strictly to conceal, 
 from him and every one else, that Julia 
 had ever particularly excited his interest. 
 
 The peculiar state of Selwyn's mind, 
 at this moment, would have led him to 
 accompany the two Oxonians ; but other 
 considerations arose to oppose the plan. 
 After a slight conflict, he reflected that, 
 so completely as he had^ at least on this 
 occasion, been master of his feelings.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 396 
 
 there was no reason for apprehending 
 any danger to his peace from Miss Law- 
 rence ; and that, on the other hand, by 
 remaining in Devonshire, he might pos- 
 sibly be of some service to her, conse- 
 quently to her brother. 
 
 He had already noticed the great live- 
 liness and growing familiarity between 
 Julia and his noble relation, with whose 
 lax principles and habits he was but too 
 well acquainted ; and though he oould 
 not suspect he would dare to form an 
 idea of seducing a young woman circum- 
 stanced and protected as Julia, yet he 
 believed him capable of poisoning the 
 mind, and injuring the reputation, of any 
 woman with whom he had much inter- 
 course. To stay then he determined : 
 a measure, indeed, quite conformable 
 with the natural impulses of his benevo- 
 lent heart ; and, in this light, Selwyn 
 vainly endeavoured to view his own con- 
 duct : we say vainly ; for, in the person 
 of the seducer, he dreaded the invader
 
 396 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 of his dearest hopes, and contemplated, 
 with a troubled mind, the dangerous si- 
 tuation of that innocence and virtue, on 
 which those hopes were almost uncon- 
 sciously founded. 
 
 While Emma had so nearly escaped a 
 terrible death, and Frederick had expe- 
 rienced so much alarm. Lady Montrevor 
 and her family had gone to visit a friend 
 beyond Exeter, and did not return till 
 the next day, when the above circum- 
 stances were immediately related to them. 
 At the first mention of her brother's 
 timely interference, the intelligent coun- 
 tenance of Julia was lighted up with 
 triumphant smiles ; but when she heard 
 that he had suffered from his exertions on 
 this occasion, the blood chilled at her 
 heart, a death-like paleness overspread 
 her features, and she was hurrying from 
 the room, exclaiming, — '' Oh ! madam, 
 I must see my brother ;" when Lady 
 Montrevor kindly caught her hand, and, 
 at the same time ordering the carriage
 
 CONCEALMENT. 397 
 
 again to the door, said, — '' Do not agi- 
 tate yourself, my dear Julia ; Frederick, 
 you hear, has suffered no serious incon^ 
 venience from his kind exertions : how- 
 ever, we will all go immediately, and 
 convince ourselves of the fact, and carry 
 our congratulations to Emma and our 
 good friends." 
 
 In vain did her ladyship and Caroline 
 try to calm the agitation of Julia during 
 their short ride. She scarcely seemed to 
 hear their words, much less to understand 
 their meaning ; while her flushed face 
 and heaving bosom spoke the perturbed 
 state of her feelings. When the door of 
 the carriage was opened, she sprung out, 
 and, with the utmost rapidity, darted to 
 the room in which the family usually 
 spent the morning. On entering she 
 saw but one object, precipitated herself 
 upon Frederick's neck, and, exclaiming — 
 " my dear, dear brother," burst into a 
 violent flood of tears. Frederick, also 
 much affected, embraced and supported
 
 398 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 her ; while her full and oppressed heart 
 relieved itself, and she sobbed aloud; 
 one moment looking him affectionately 
 in the face, then hiding her tears in his 
 bosom. At length she grew more 
 composed, and, turning round, she first 
 became sensible that she w^as not alone 
 with her brother ; to whom she signified 
 her confusion in a low voice, while she 
 concealed her face with both her hands. 
 
 Indeed there had been present at this 
 interesting scene, besides Mr. Dermont's 
 family. Lady Eleanor and Lord Carl- 
 maine ; who, with Mr. and Mrs. Huntley, 
 Were come to offer their congratulations 
 on Emma's escape. This lovely girl 
 shed tears of tenderest sympathy; and, 
 feeling for the uncomfortable situation of 
 Julia, took her arm within her own, and 
 placing Frederick on the other side, drew 
 her from the room. In passing one of 
 the window s, as she went out, Julia per- 
 ceived a gentleman standing with his 
 back towards the company ; and, though
 
 CONCEALMENT. 399 
 
 she could not in the least see his face, she 
 was certain it was Selwyn. 
 
 As she had cast a hasty glance round 
 on the company, she could not avoid 
 reading a kind sympathy in every coun^ 
 tenance : Selwyn alone had never deigned 
 even to look at her ; nor, though close by 
 it, did he attempt to open the door for 
 her, which Lord Carlmaine had hastened 
 to do with a look of marked kindness. 
 Confused and agitated as were her emo- 
 tions, this pointed unfeeling neglect in a 
 man who professed so much friendship 
 for her brother, even at this moment, 
 irritated and vexed her. These emotions 
 however tended, perhaps, to counteract 
 those by which she had lately suffered; 
 and, soon feeling perfectly recovered, her 
 heart expanded with its usual joyful, 
 animated feelings ; she kissed the traces 
 of tears from the cheeks of the tender- 
 hearted Emma; advised Frederick to 
 procure a wig with all possible expedi- 
 tion ; and, having applied cold water to
 
 400 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 her eyes, returned, with regained cheer- 
 fulness, to the company. Curiosity made 
 her think chiefly of Selwyn as she re-en- 
 tered ; but he was gone, and she inwardly 
 declared she was glad of it. 
 
 Two days now only remained before 
 that on which Edward and Frederick 
 were to quit Devonshire. On one of 
 these days they were to dine at Dr. 
 Thornton's with much the same party 
 that lately met at Arlingham, and the 
 whole of the last day was to be spent by 
 Miss Montrevor and Julia, with Edward 
 and Frederick, at Mr. Dermont's, who 
 protested he would not part with his 
 pupil till the very last moment. 
 
 Young Byngham was anxious to be 
 off; Lord Carlmaine's pernicious coun- 
 sels and raillery had rendered his mind 
 more than ever wavering. He saw Ca- 
 roline was unhappy, and the circumstance 
 vexed him ; but his passions, not easily 
 moved, kept his mind in a strange kind 
 of equilibrium ; and he had not steadiness
 
 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 401 
 
 of character enough even to know which 
 of the fair friends of Arlingham he should 
 really prefer. Julia was by far the most 
 handsome, and her lively disposition had 
 for him many charms, which his cousin 
 wanted : but then his prudence, in him a 
 very negative virtue, did not fail to sug- 
 gest, that she had no connexions ; and 
 even the story told by Mr. Byngham, 
 respecting Mrs. Lawrence, he suspecjted: 
 besides which, notwithstanding all the 
 exterior forms of friendship that existed 
 between them, he could not bear the 
 consciousness of Frederick's superiority ; 
 and, with the sordid envy of a groveling 
 mind, felt that he never could like her 
 brother. 
 
 Qn the other hand, Caroline Montrevor 
 was nobly born, was also handsome ; he 
 believed, loved him : but then his weak 
 mind was galled by the thought, that, in 
 submitting to be thus led by his relations, 
 he should incur the ridicule of being di- 
 rected by the judgment of others. He,
 
 402 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 however, was comforted by the recollec- 
 tion, that he was yet very young, had 
 never made any proposal to his cousin or 
 Julia ; and that therefore he was, as 
 Lord Carl main e observed, at liberty to 
 seek his own amusement. He wished to 
 return to college, where he had always 
 spent his time most agreeably ; and he 
 was heartily sick of what he called the 
 fuss that was made, even in Lord Mon- 
 trevor's family, as well as in that of Mr. 
 Dermont, about Frederick's removal to 
 Oxford. 
 
 This arrangement was in itself by no 
 means agreeable to Edward, who anti- 
 cipated some mortifications, of a similar 
 nature to those which a jealousy of Frede- 
 rick's evident superiority had often inflict- 
 ed upon him when at home. But knowing, 
 if any disagreement arose between them, 
 he should probably incur the most blame, 
 he prudently determined, during the 
 short time he had still to remain at col- 
 lege, to be very guarded in his behaviour
 
 CONCEALMENT. 403 
 
 to Frederick ; who, he could not refrain 
 from confessing even to himself, was a 
 very noble, good-hearted fellow. 
 
 Julia was perfectly right ; the gentle- 
 man, whose back she had noticed, was 
 Selwyn. After the conversation with 
 Mr. Dermont, he had joined Frederick, 
 who was with the female part of the fa- 
 mily. Shortly after, Lady Eleanor, &c. &c. 
 arrived ; and, lastly. Lady Montrevor*s 
 party. The meeting of Julia and her 
 brother had been so responsive to the 
 finest touches of nature, she appeared to 
 Selwyn so perfect an angel of sensibility 
 and affection, that his heart, taken by sur- 
 prise, acknowledged the irrestible attract 
 tion of her transcendant loveliness. Im- 
 pressed with these sensations, he could 
 only conceal the sudden emotion they 
 caused, by turning completely away 
 from observation. Selwyn's retiring si- 
 lence was to Julia not only inexplicable, 
 but the cause of a very unfavourable mis- 
 construction : this young enthusiast of
 
 404 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 nature had not yet learned, that real joy, 
 like real sorrow, lies deep and unobtru- 
 sive ; and that it is often the lighter emo- 
 tions only which float upon the surface, 
 and so readily meet the eye of the 
 observer. 
 
 Nothing occurred between this time, 
 and their meeting at Dr. Thornton's, to 
 efface or weaken the favourable impres- 
 sion thus received. And, if Selwyn's re- 
 solution to conquer, even in its infancy, 
 the rising sensations of a misplaced pre- 
 ference, remained unshaken, the character 
 of Julia had risen somewhat higher in 
 his opinion. He now persuaded himself 
 that, though she could never be to him 
 desirable as a wife, yet, still viewing her 
 as a lovely girl, with many amiable traits 
 of disposition, and the sister of a man he 
 so highly regarded, there was no reason 
 why he should shun her society, and 
 sacrifice, to prudential considerations, the 
 pleasure it was calculated to afford. 
 
 When, therefore, they met at the
 
 CONCEALMENT. 405 
 
 rectory, and Selwyn found himself, per- 
 haps accidentally, seated near her, his 
 behaviour was not such as to strengthen 
 her belief that he had taken a dislike to 
 her. Indeed his manner towards her 
 appeared so much softened, that she 
 asked Lord Carlmaine, in the evening:, if 
 he had been giving his cousin any private 
 lessons, as she had never before observed 
 him even to wish to make himself aoree- 
 able. This had been said in a whisper ; 
 but Lord Carlmaine, who was flattered 
 by this implied compliment, and actuated 
 by other reasons also, immediately re- 
 peated the speech aloud to Selwyn ; 
 offering, with well-affected pleasantry, to 
 take him under his direction, till he had 
 wholly rubbed off the serious formality 
 he had contracted, he supposed, first at 
 college, and then from his stiff friends in 
 Spain. Selwyn coloured deeply, not 
 solely from confusion ; and, after a short 
 reply, began to turn over some prints 
 that lay on the table.
 
 406 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 Julia, in the mean time, really felt as 
 provoked with Lord Carlmaine, as dissa- 
 tisfied with herself; and it was some 
 minutes before she recovered from the 
 feeling of vexation with which she had 
 read, in the countenance of Selwyn, a 
 return of that look of disapprobation she 
 had already frequently noticed. As she 
 had not intended that the indiscreet ob- 
 servation she had made (which was really 
 prompted by the pleasure with which she 
 had, during dinner, attended to his agree- 
 able conversation,) should reach Selwyn, 
 she felt desirous of doing or saying some- 
 thing by way of atonement. 
 
 In this design, she also drew nigh to 
 the table on which the prints were scat- 
 tered, and began to hazard a few re- 
 marks ; but the subjects she selected had 
 no interest for Selwyn. She took up one 
 after another; but he was too intently 
 admiring one he held, to notice any of her 
 observations ; and she was obliged to be 
 content with hearing them all declared
 
 CONCEALMENT. 407 
 
 perfectly just by Lord Carlmaine, who 
 had followed her to the table. She was 
 moving away, when, having cast her 
 eyes on the print in Selwyn's hand, she 
 exclaimed, with a smile, excited at least 
 as much by a wish for retaliation as to 
 indulge her mirth, — " Bless me ! how en- 
 tranced Mr. Selwyn is by the excellence 
 of that print ! See : he is so lost in admi- 
 ration, that he does not perceive he has 
 made poor Diogenes stand upon his 
 head!" 
 
 Selwyn now became quite disconcert- 
 ed : for, in truth, so little had the subject 
 before him engaged his attention, that he 
 was actually holding, with the heads 
 downwards, the print from Salvator 
 Rosa's beautiful painting of Diogenes 
 receiving a lesson in philosophy from the 
 boy drinking out of his hand. It was 
 impossible for the laugh not to spread ; 
 and Julia, triumphing in having obtained 
 a little revenge for the silent contempt
 
 408 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 with which Selwyn had just treated her, 
 turned away ; having cast towards him a 
 haughty look of indifference. 
 
 The print, thus brought into notice, 
 now became the subject of conversation. 
 Lord Ashmore admired the wonderful 
 selfrdenial and persevering courage with 
 which many of the ancient philosophers 
 had subdued the natural inclinations of 
 man, and had arrived at such astonishing- 
 degrees of virtue. 
 
 '' That virtue was, indeed," said Mr. 
 Dermont, '' the perfection of human rea- 
 son. Impressed with the conviction, not 
 only of the instability of all the advan- 
 tages of existence, but also of the uncer- 
 tainty and, at best, shortness of life itself, 
 they exerted all the powers of their mind 
 in rendering themselves independent of 
 human vicissitudes. But their enlight- 
 ened minds took a still wider range: 
 considering themselves as parts of a great 
 whole, as members of the Universe, they
 
 CONCEALMENT. 409 
 
 professed to regard their own wishes, 
 fears, or sufferings, as matters of total 
 indifference. An enlightened moral rec- 
 titude taught these wise heathens to do 
 all the good in their power ; while, with 
 the pride of conscious intellect, they 
 scorned to be the slaves of those passions, 
 which the gods, they thought, had given 
 to purify, by exercising, their virtue. 
 And when we reflect that, with all this, 
 they were ignorant, or at least very 
 doubtful, of a future state of reward and 
 punishment ; that immortality was but a 
 dark imperfect speck, apparent only to a 
 few, and that but very dimly ; and that 
 the light of revelation had not yet dawn- 
 ed on the darkened world, — we must 
 feel humbled and astonished, that men 
 like these (pointing to Diogenes,) were 
 able to leave us such bright examples." 
 
 '' Faith, sir,' said Lord Carlmaine, 
 " I am much disposed to question the 
 wisdom of these gentlemen ; who, look- 
 ing for nothing better in another world;
 
 410 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 were fools enough to slight the pleasures 
 and enjoyments of this. Or rather con- 
 fess, my good sir, that ostentatious vanity 
 was at the bottom of all this pretended 
 virtue. Now, this long-robed sober 
 hypocrite had, I doubt not, much more 
 pride than the great monarch he dared 
 to insult ; and, had he been in Alexan- 
 der's place, his behaviour would have 
 been very inferior to what he experienced 
 from that truly great man." 
 
 Mr. Dermont made no reply ; when 
 Dr. Thornton suddenly exclaimed, turn- 
 ing to Sir Charles Ben well, — " A propos, 
 baronet : do you know that my Alexander 
 is matched to run at Newmarket against 
 Mr. Bradshaw's Miss Prim for a thousand 
 guineas?" 
 
 This very a propos information excited 
 a general smile, which was prolonged by 
 Stephen Thornton ; who, retaining a con- 
 fused remembrance of something he had 
 read at school, said, — '' Aye ; this was 
 the fellow that used to fill his mouth full
 
 CONCEALMENT. 411 
 
 of pebbles, and go and spout by the sea- 
 side, to teach him to speak loud and 
 clear. Gad, I could have given him a 
 better hint than that. Why, there is 
 Will Trueman, father's huntsman, told 
 me, he had the most squeaking, puny 
 voice, in the world, till he took to hunt- 
 ing the dogs ; and now, I am sure, gen- 
 tlemen, you would all agree with me, 
 that he would beat this Mr. Diogenes 
 hollow." 
 
 " Stephen, Stephen !" said Dr. Thorn- 
 ton, half ashamed, "you have made good 
 haste to forget your books : you mean 
 Demosthenes." 
 
 ".Well, well, father," said Stephen, 
 pettishly, " if I did make a little blunder, 
 it is very easy to mistake the name of one 
 old Roman for another." 
 
 The suppressed laugh now burst forth; 
 in which young Thornton heartily joined, 
 — thinking it arose from the good answer 
 with which he had so readily set his fa- 
 ther down. 
 
 t2
 
 412 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 ^^ And what does Miss Lawrence think 
 of these sages of old]' said Lord Carl- 
 maine, drawing his chair close to Julia ; 
 who was talking with her brother, on a 
 sofa near the table, by which Selwyn was 
 still standing. 
 
 " Indeed," she replied, '^ I know but 
 little about them ; and, as to philosophy, 
 I should acknowledge none as good and 
 sound that prevented my enjoying the 
 blessings bestowed upon us by a kind 
 Providence ; who never meant that the 
 path of virtue should be strewed with all 
 the troubles, gloom, and vexations, that 
 some people choose to find in it." 
 
 Lord Carlmaine had been called away 
 by his father just as she ended her 
 speech ; and Frederick, thinking they 
 w^ere unobserved, could not refrain from 
 endeavouring to check an exuberance of 
 spirits in his sister, that often alarmed 
 him ; and which, in the late instance re- 
 lative to Selwyn, had indeed made him 
 feel almost angry with her.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 418 
 
 In a low voice, he therefore reminded 
 her, that she was too young and igno^ 
 rant of the world to hazard her opinion 
 in public upon any subject; and that in 
 all companies many would be found dis- 
 posed to question the virtues of her heart, 
 if her manners betrayed the thoughtless- 
 ness, which, in the opinion of some, 
 might be called levity, 
 
 " Surely, my dear Frederick," said 
 Julia, playfully, ''you would not wish to 
 see me as serious as yourself. No, no : 
 you are grave and thoughtful enough for 
 us both ; and we will make a bargain. 
 You shall read and reflect for me ; and I 
 will be cheerful for, and I hope sometimes 
 with, you. You shall occupy the rich 
 sombrous part, and I the light sunny 
 patches, in the foreground of the land- 
 scape." 
 
 " Pray heaven," said Frederick, taking 
 her hand, with smiling affection, ''that 
 you may never receive any serious check 
 to these happy spirits." 
 T 3
 
 414 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 " Amen," criedJulia: '' but I conclude 
 I must, like others, take my chance for 
 that. Trust me, Frederick, I will never 
 deserve to be unhappy ; but neither will 
 I embitter the present enjoyment by re- 
 flections and apprehensions of future 
 vexations, which may or may not be in 
 store for us. And now, in return for the 
 many lessons you have given me, and by 
 which I hope to profit some day or other, 
 let me offer one word of advice to you. I 
 know you mean to be a great philoso- 
 pher, (Mr. Stephen will perhaps assist 
 you in selecting a model from the an- 
 cients,) this is by-the-bye, you know. 
 But let me induce you to open your eyes 
 quite wide to the fair prospects which 
 life at our age always offers ; and do not 
 dwell, as I fear you too often do, on an 
 imaginary black deity, who is to tinge 
 every object with anticipated gloom. 
 And," continued she, speaking still 
 lower, " do not let the heart of my dear
 
 CONCEALMENT. 4M 
 
 brother catch the contagious, cynical 
 character of his friend." 
 
 Selwyn had been in conversation with 
 Mr. Derm on t during this tete-a-tete of 
 Frederick and Julia ; of which they had 
 both heard sufficient (though not the 
 conchiding sentence,) to produce a smile 
 on the face of the kind-hearted divine, 
 which betrayed nothing but good-hu- 
 moured approval of the fair instructress's 
 advice ; and, having penetrated in some 
 degree the feelings of disapprobation, ex- 
 cited occasionally in his young friend, by 
 Julia's too lively appearance, he whisper- 
 ed to him, — " Let 
 
 " Candour and reason still take virtue's part, 
 We love e'en failings in so good a heart." 
 
 Selwyn smiled, but it was only with 
 his lips ; no pleasing emotion reached his 
 heart: still, however, he continued to 
 dissemble with himself. Really morti- 
 fied at Julia's neglect and self-possession, 
 he endeavoured to ascribe his irritated 
 T 4
 
 416 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 feelings to her supposed levity and incon- 
 sistency ; or, indeed, to any other cause 
 except the true one, — the jealous and 
 engrossingclaimsofhis growing affection. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Huntley, with their 
 daughter, made part of the circle at the 
 rectory this day ; and, as the latter was a 
 relation of Sir Charles Ben well, and a 
 great favourite with him, Mrs. Thornton 
 had the mortification to find, that, when 
 the baronet could not procure the atten- 
 tion of Miss Montrevor, he transferred all 
 his conversation to Fanny Huntley, and 
 took very little notice of Cecilia; vs^ho 
 was, however, quite unconscious or re- 
 gardless of his inattention, and found 
 means to amuse herself, very agreeably, 
 w4th a pointer puppy, she was doctoring 
 and nursing through the distemper. 
 Miss Thornton, likewise, still remained 
 in uninterrupted repose ; and Jessy, 
 though she had lately practised most in- 
 defatigably, continued apparently to play 
 and sing only for the gratification of the 
 6
 
 CONCEALMENT. 417 
 
 elders of the party, to the increased vexa- 
 tion of Mrs. Thornton. In addition to 
 these minor tribulations, that lady began 
 to entertain serious fears that her son, 
 for whom she often, in her own mind, 
 formed such agreeable matrimonial al- 
 liances, would obstinately disappoint all 
 her hopes, and actually suffer the silly, 
 antiquated Lady Eleanor, to entrap him, 
 by artfully administering to his vanity. 
 
 The party in Lady Montrevor's coach, 
 as they returned home, were not engaged 
 by the most lively reflections. Her la- 
 dyship's fears and uneasiness relative to 
 her daughter seemed to gain strength by 
 the behaviour of her husband. Caroline 
 thought that Edward was beginning to 
 entertain a preference for Julia ; though 
 she believed her friend was yet quite un- 
 suspicious of the circumstance. She also 
 began to suspect her father's intentions 
 respecting Mr. Fairbank, who was her 
 aversion ; consequently, her mind was ill 
 at ease. And even Julia's spirits had 
 T 5
 
 418 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 lost their usual tone ; she had just parted 
 from her brother, and felt that, after one 
 more day, she should lose him for — what 
 appeared to her affectionate heart — a 
 very, very long period. This reflection 
 accompanied her to her chamber ; and, 
 for a considerable time, not only banished 
 every other thought, but sleep also.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 419 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Laertes. — " Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well 
 
 What I have said to you. 
 Ophelia.— ^^ 'Tis in my mem'ry lock'd ; 
 
 And you yourself shall keep the key of it." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 Julia's first thought, the next morning, 
 like the last her mind had entertained 
 the preceding evening, had Frederick for 
 their object. She rose early ; and, leav- 
 ing Caroline and Edward (who during 
 his father's absence was resident at Ar- 
 lingham) to follow, she hastened on foot 
 to Mr. Dermont's, with a view of break- 
 fasting with Frederick, and sitting an 
 hour with him before the family came 
 down, and thus make the day as long as 
 possible. 
 
 On reaching the house, she had the 
 mortification to find that her brother had 
 rode to Brookdale very early, to carry
 
 420 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 some books which he had promised Lady 
 Maria Carlmaine to return before he 
 quitted Devonshire ; but that he had left 
 word he should certainly be back by the 
 usual time of breakfast, of which there 
 still wanted nearly an hour. Much dis- 
 appointed, Julia went into his study, 
 telling the servant that, till the family 
 came down, she would amuse herself 
 with a book. She took one up ; but the 
 painful thought that at the same time 
 to-morrow Frederick would be gone, de- 
 prived her of the power of reading. 
 
 Casting her eyes.mournfully round the 
 room, they rested on a portmanteau, near 
 which books and other articles were 
 scattered. At the sight of these sad 
 preparations, tears were rising to her 
 eyes, when she suddenly observed the 
 key in the lock of the portmanteau ; a 
 most favorable circumstance for a scheme 
 she had for some time meditated. 
 
 Julia Lawrence was no economist. 
 Of the quarterly allowance she had for
 
 CONCEALMENT. 421 
 
 the two last years received from Mr. 
 Bynghara, and which he and Lady 
 Montrevor judged adequate to all her 
 wishes and wants, there seldom remained 
 any vestige after the first month. Trin- 
 kets and youthful fancies had sometimes 
 power to lead her into expences which 
 she afterwards ingenuously condemned ; 
 but it was acts of generosity and bene- 
 volence which so speedily drained her 
 purse. She made frequent and valuable 
 presents to Ursula; who, in testimony of 
 gratitude, regretted that so sweet and li- 
 beral a young lady had not the fortune, 
 as she had the magnificent heart, of a 
 princess. Then came a string of in- 
 stances of the munificence of the ladies 
 in Don Lerma de Soria's family, and in- 
 deed of all noble Spanish ladies. Julia 
 listened well pleased to these grateful 
 effusions from her old nurse, who still 
 retained the post of friend, adviser, and 
 confidant. 
 
 To relieve the distresses she either
 
 422 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 heard of or witnessed, was a habit which 
 was early impressed on her mind, both 
 by the precepts and example of the ami- 
 able woman who had taken so large a 
 share in her education, and was one of 
 the lessons her young heart was most apt 
 in learning. No one ever applied to her 
 in vain ; and, though her charity was 
 often too indiscriminate. Lady Montrevor 
 sought not to impress upon her, or Caro- 
 line, the prudence of too nice an exami- 
 nation into the merits or necessities of 
 the objects who sought relief; as she 
 well knew that an increasing knowledge 
 of the world, and painful experience, 
 would soon check the now-ready hand, 
 and chill, at least in a degree, the glow- 
 ing flame of youthful charity. 
 
 From the above combining causes, 
 Julia was therefore in general very poor ; 
 but she was at this period '' passing 
 rich." Prudent foresight had made her 
 lately withstand temptation. Nothing 
 had been laid out in whims of either dress
 
 concjEalment. 423 
 
 or fancy, and Ursula had received no 
 presents for some months. Even her 
 charities had been curtailed as closely as 
 her feeling heart would permit. 
 
 The result of all this self-denial was a 
 well-stored small silk purse, which Julia 
 had determined to convey secretly into 
 some of Frederick's packages, with a 
 note, urging him, by his love for her, to 
 accept a gift which to her was of no use, 
 and might, on some unforeseen occasion, 
 be serviceable to him. The opportunity 
 before her was most unexpectedly favour- 
 able, and she lifted up the lid, and found 
 the portmanteau was completely packed. 
 She ventured to remove some of the 
 things, that with safety she might deposit 
 her riches. In doing this she was struck 
 with a small beautiful casket of Indian 
 workmanship, and she could not resist 
 the temptation of taking it out for exa- 
 mination ; then came the wish to see the 
 inside ; and, considering that, as she had 
 never seen it before, it was probably a
 
 424 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 late gift of Mrs. Dermont, there could be 
 no harm in opening it if she found the 
 key, as she felt certain Frederick had 
 never any secret from her. 
 
 We must allow that this is but a bad 
 specimen of Julia's logic ; and for her 
 apology we must trust to the candour of 
 our fair reasoners under twenty. One of 
 the keys on the bunch to which that in 
 the lock of the portmanteau was fastened, 
 immediately opened the casket. 
 
 The reader will readily guess that this 
 was no other than the casket which Mr. 
 Byngham had so lately confided to Fre- 
 derick's care, who would on no account 
 have gone to Oxford without it. In the 
 hurry of spirits at the thought of leaving 
 his beloved sister and so many friends, 
 and of being, as it were, launched on a 
 world which had hitherto afforded him 
 but little variety, he had forgotten to 
 lock his portmanteau which contained his 
 only treasure. 
 
 By this neglect was the grand secret
 
 CONCEALMENT. 425 
 
 he had resolved to keep with such strict 
 caution from every one, and more espe- 
 cially from Julia, in a moment revealed 
 to her. Curiosity, and not any great in- 
 terest, had induced her to open the 
 casket ; but when, in the inside of the 
 lid, she read, as the first item of an in- 
 ventory, " Miniature of the Father of 
 Frederick and Julia." She began to 
 tremble with surprise and agitation. 
 Hearing, however, at that moment, steps 
 approaching, she hastily closed the lid, 
 and, returning it to the portmanteau, 
 locked it, and put the keys in her pocket ; 
 determined, when she returned them to 
 her brother, to insist on being allowed to 
 examine the casket, and to be made ac- 
 quainted with the circumstances respect- 
 ing it, which had been concealed from 
 her. 
 
 Emma now entered, to call her to 
 breakfast, and found her confused and 
 agitated ; but her own gentle heart per- 
 suaded her she knew the cause, and.
 
 426 COxVCEALMENT. 
 
 throwing her arms round Julia's neck, 
 she said, weeping, " Ah, Julia ! 1 too 
 shall lose a brother : but he has promised 
 to write to me sometimes, as well as to 
 you ; and you and I can often talk about 
 him, recollect all he used to say, and 
 where he used to ride and walk. And 
 how much shall I have to remember re- 
 specting him ; for, if he is your real bro- 
 ther, he is (as my dear papa calls him) 
 the preserver of poor Emma." 
 
 Then the sweet child's tears began to 
 stream afresh at the sound of her own 
 complaints. Julia affectionately kissed 
 her, and they entered the breakfast-room 
 together just as Frederick rode rapidly 
 past the windows. 
 
 He had missed his keys, and hastened 
 to his study ; but, not finding them, he 
 joined the family, of whom he immedi- 
 ately inquired if they had seen his keys. 
 Julia, with some hesitation, produced 
 them ; when Frederick noticed, with 
 surprise, the confusion visible in her
 
 CONCEALMENT. 427 
 
 couQtenance. A painful presentiment 
 struck his mind ; but, though he suffered 
 great internal agitation, he struggled to 
 prevent all outward appearance of emo- 
 tion, that, if his fears were well-founded, 
 he might not increase Julia's evident 
 distress by suffering her to see his sus- 
 picions. 
 
 By degrees, therefore, she recovered 
 in some measure from her embarrass- 
 ment, yet was wholly unable to regain her 
 usual composure ; neither could she par- 
 take of the social meal. Frederick was 
 little more disposed to eat ; and, while 
 their friends attributed these symptoms 
 of uneasiness in both to their approach- 
 ing separation, the mind of each was a 
 prey to fears and distrust on a subject 
 foreign to what otherwise would have 
 wholly occupied it. 
 
 Mrs. Dermont observed Julia's vary- 
 ing colour, and the absent looks of Fre- 
 derick ; and, fancying she could read 
 what was passing in their hearts, said to
 
 428 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 them, " Take your sister, my dear Fre- 
 derick, into your study ; remain together 
 as long as you like, no one shall interrupt 
 you ; and, when we meet again, I hope 
 you will have talked each other into more 
 fortitude." 
 
 Frederick thanked her for this kind 
 consideration, and led the way to his 
 study, whither Julia followed, trembling 
 with mingled sensations approaching to 
 a sense of having acted wrong, and of 
 anxiety respecting the eclaircissement she 
 was going to require. 
 
 She imagined she could trace an ex- 
 pression of disapprobation in the features 
 of Frederick ; and desirous, above all, 
 that he should acquit her of being led, in 
 the first instance, by a mean curiosity to 
 open the portmanteau, she readily relin- 
 quished the scheme she had so long plan- 
 ned for his not discovering her little gift 
 till he had reached Oxford ; and detailed 
 to him, without reserve, how she happen- 
 ed first to see the casket, and her subse-
 
 CONCEALMENT. 429 
 
 quently opening it. '' And now, my dear 
 Frederick," she continued, ''if you feel 
 displeased with me for yielding to a curi- 
 osity, which I felt certain you would, if 
 present, willingly have gratified ; how 
 much more serious reason have I to com- 
 plain of the very great and mortifying 
 proof I have of your total want of confi- 
 dence in me. Oh, Frederick ! you have, 
 indeed, vexed me very much." 
 
 Frederick pressed her affectionately to 
 his bosom, and thanked her for this tes- 
 timony of her regard for him ; then so- 
 lemnly assured her, that, in concealing 
 from her circumstances respecting their 
 unhappy mother, some of which were 
 most painful, and all very mysterious, he 
 had been solely actuated by the desi^re of 
 preserving her from needless grief. ^' And, 
 would you now be content to seek to 
 know no more, you would avoid great 
 uneasiness." He said this without much 
 hope that any thing less than the disclo- 
 sure of all he knew would satisfy the
 
 430 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 awakened curiosity of Julia; he was, 
 therefore, not disappointed when she 
 protested that only an unreserved com- 
 munication of every particular with which 
 he was acquainted, and his suffering her 
 to examine the contents of the casket, 
 could restore her reliance on his affection, 
 and prevail on her to pardon his having 
 refused his confidence to a sister who 
 loved him so entirely that every thought 
 and feeling of her heart had ever been 
 open to his inspection. 
 
 Thus pressed, Frederick had no alter- 
 native, and he reluctantly gave her with- 
 out reserve an account of all that had 
 passed between Mr. Byngham, Lady 
 Montrevor, Mr. Dermont, and himself, 
 respecting Mrs. Laurence, her death, 
 their own destitute situation, &c. &c. He 
 would willingly have refrained from no- 
 ticing the opinion that he believed Mr. 
 Dermont entertained of her mother's cha- 
 racter, and which Mr. Byngham never 
 had been able to remove ; but Julia was
 
 CONCEALMENT. 431 
 
 too attentive and quick -sighted not to 
 penetrate her brother's fears. 
 
 She had listened to these extraordinary 
 and melancholy details with all the lively 
 feelinofs natural to her. The various ar- 
 tides in the casket were alternately be- 
 dewed with tears, which were frequently 
 dried on her cheek by the blush of indig- 
 nant shame, at the thought that the birth 
 of Frederick and herself was suspected 
 to be stained with illegitimacy. After 
 much silent emotion, she exclaimed, with 
 affecting energy, " No, Frederick, do not 
 believe it. Heaven never could form a 
 soul so great, so good, as yours, and then 
 stamp it with the badge of baseness. 
 The generous virtues of my brother are 
 to me a sure pledge, that, could we pe- 
 netrate the mystery that surrounds us, we 
 should find our parents, perhaps, had 
 been unfortunate, but not criminal. And, 
 indeed," she continued, laying her hand 
 on her heart with romantic emotion, ''I 
 feel here a proud, a conscious security in
 
 432 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 the virtue of the mother who gave me 
 birth. Yes, her sainted spirit speaks to 
 this heart, and claims the love, regret, 
 and reverence of her children. Oh ! 
 would that we could find the missing ar- 
 ticles : our father's picture might have 
 been of great use." 
 
 '' It might, indeed," said Frederick 
 mournfully; " but no hope of finding it 
 remains." 
 
 ^^ I do not quite say so," returned 
 Julia ; " and, if you will not think me very 
 silly, I w ill confess that I am inclined to 
 flatter myself it may yet be traced, and 
 some of these strange particulars clear- 
 ed up." 
 
 " And prove we are the children of 
 some prince or peer," said Frederick, in- 
 terrupting her, and faintly smiling. 
 
 Julia's heart was too full to permit a 
 smile, but she coloured deeply at finding 
 how^ nearly what her brother had ad- 
 vanced in jest approached to what was 
 passing in her mind.
 
 CONCEALMENT. 438 
 
 Long and serious was the conversation 
 to which the various papers and articles 
 contained in the casket gave rise. Frcr 
 derick had exerted all the resources of 
 his mind to soften the communication 
 thus forced from him, and prevent its 
 making the deep impression on his be- 
 loved sister it had done on him; and 
 Julia now, in her turn, essayed every 
 means to infuse into the heart of her bro- 
 ther the sweet charm of hope, which she 
 said she was herself determined to che- 
 rish. At length the papers were again, 
 with almost religious care, deposited as 
 before. 
 
 The only trinket found in the casket 
 was part of an enamelled heart, which 
 Julia by entreaties obtained permission 
 to keep ; and, immediately attaching it to 
 a string, she promised to wear it in 
 safety next her heart as long as she lived. 
 Judging this to be a favourable oppor- 
 tunity, and fearful that no other so suited 
 to his purpose might occur before his 
 
 V
 
 434 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 departure, Frederick endeavoured, ere he 
 quitted his study, to impress upon his 
 sister's mind the necessity of being more 
 guarded in her conduct than she had hi- 
 therto appeared. He noticed the modest 
 reserve of CaroHne's manners as highly 
 worthy of her attention ; and, above all, 
 he exhorted her to imitate the model of 
 feminine excellence exemplified in Lady 
 Montrevor's behaviour and conversation. 
 *' She is in every respect," he continued, 
 '' the example I wish you, my dear Julia, 
 to copy. Temper your vivacity with that 
 retiring grace with which even now, 
 when years and experience have proved 
 the soundness of her judgment and cor- 
 rectness of her principles, accompanies 
 the delivery of her opinions. Think often 
 before you venture to express your 
 thoughts to any but friends, who, you are 
 sure, are partial to you; because they 
 may long have studied your heart, and 
 know all its unaffected worth. But fliis, 
 few can have opportunities of doing:
 
 CONCEALMENT. 435 
 
 therefore it would be unreasonable to 
 hope that a common acquaintance will 
 immediately penetrate your character, 
 and discover, beneath a giddy exterior, 
 your many valuable qualities. With our 
 sex, Julia, be more than doubly guarded ; 
 and let not the pleasing attraction of ele- 
 gant manners, polished language, and 
 graceful vivacity, lure you to forget a 
 moment that reserve which you will find 
 the best guardian of your principles and 
 your peace. Pardon me, my dear girl," 
 he continued, with increasing emotion, 
 '^ for thus taking upon me to lecture you. 
 Would to Heaven, for your sake, I were 
 by age and experience better suited to 
 the oflScei but, in the whole world, we 
 know not that there exists any one whom 
 nature has commissioned to watch over 
 your happiness, except myself; and I, 
 alas ! am going to leave you : but to me, 
 Julia, that happiness will ever be far more 
 dear than my own. Do not, then, un- 
 dermine both, by any light or inconside- 
 u2
 
 436 CONCEALMENT. 
 
 rate conduct. Whatever may be the fu- 
 ture colour of ray hfe, you will be my best 
 and dearest comfort." 
 
 As he ceased speaking, Julia took his 
 hand, and, when her tears allowed her to 
 speak, told him the greatest pleasure she 
 should know during his absence, would 
 be to recollect his kind instructions, and 
 in receiving and answering his letters. 
 
 They were soon able to join the family, 
 and spent the day chiefly in talking and 
 thinking of the next. Caroline and Ed- 
 ward did not come till several hours after 
 Julia; who, notwithstanding every en- 
 deavour of their friends, could not regain 
 any part of her usual cheerfulness. 
 Every passing hour seemed only to point 
 at that which was, for the first time in 
 her life, really to separate her from a bro- 
 ther, always most tenderly beloved, but 
 to whom, in the present agitated state of 
 her spirits, her heart was still more fondly 
 attached. 
 • Frederick fully shared these afiectionate
 
 CONCEALMENT. 437 
 
 feelings, and seized every opportunity to 
 reconcile his sister to an absence so in- 
 dispensable, by pointing out the advan- 
 tages it offered of qualifying himself for 
 a profession, in which he hoped some day 
 to rise to distinction. She as often at- 
 tempted to repay his kindness with a 
 grateful smile ; but it died away ere it was 
 perfectly formed, and tears, more conge- 
 nial to her sentiments, appeared in its 
 stead. 
 
 At length the hour of parting came ; 
 and Frederick, once more drawing his 
 sister aside, hastily spoke his grief at 
 leaving her, repeated his anxious wishes 
 for her happiness, and, above all, the 
 fears that racked his breast lest, during 
 his absence, some misfortune should as- 
 sail her. *^ While you make honour and 
 virtue the guides of your conduct, my 
 dearest Julia,*' said he, tenderly embrac- 
 ing her, " oh! fail not to guard every 
 avenue of your still light, but susceptible, 
 heart from hasty or dangerous impres-
 
 438 CONCEALMENf. 
 
 sions. Encourage no preference but what 
 comes recommended by sterling worth ; 
 and shun the gay attractions of the mere 
 trappings of an outside virtue. Julia^ 
 beware ; do not suffer Lord Carlmaine 
 to gain an ascendance, even in your 
 thoughts. I am sure he is now nothing 
 to you ; but think of this caution when I 
 am gone." 
 
 Julia returned his fond embrace, and 
 again assured him she would treasure up 
 his every word, and regulate her thoughts 
 and actions by his advice. 
 
 END OF VOL. I, 
 
 J. and C. ADLARt), Printer*, 
 23| Burtholoinew Close.