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 ^f 
 
 f 
 
 J
 
 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 
 
 A NOYEL. 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "GREYMORE." 
 
 • Who shall win my lady fair ? 
 
 The bravest man, that best love can, 
 Shall win my lady tair." 
 
 Madrigal. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
 
 13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1862. 
 
 TJie right of trandalton is reserved.
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTKD nv n. Bc,HX,OLOUCESTKR STRKET 
 
 ItKCJKNT's PARK.
 
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A EIDDLE. 
 
 The morning room at the Laurels looked 
 very bright and pleasant, with the soft Sep- 
 i» tember sunshine streaming through the 
 muslin curtains, and fallinsr on the lijxht 
 s chestnut hair of Amy Constable, as she 
 ' stood in the window, looking out upon the 
 X, smooth green lawn, with its gay flower-beds 
 vj and belt of dark evergreens. The little iron 
 ^ gate, half hidden in the shrubs, turned sud- 
 denly on its hinges, and a lady walked up 
 ^« the gravel path. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Mamma, here is Mrs. Lyttelton!'' ex- 
 claimed Amy, turning to her mother, who 
 was writing at the other end of the room. 
 " Shall I open the door for her ? " 
 
 Mrs. Constable raised her head, and gave 
 an affirm.ative nod. She was a stately -look- 
 ing woman, with a fair face and gentle ex- 
 pression, not, however, without marks of 
 firmness traceable about the mouth. She 
 was dressed in black silk, and her cap, 
 though not precisely that of the first stage 
 of widowhood, was made with a careful 
 simplicity, and seemed to be of a fashion 
 that was never to be changed. 
 
 The visitor, who entered the room with 
 Amy, was a very difi'erent-looking person. 
 Of a plump figure, comely, round face, and 
 busy, decided manner, Mrs. Lyttelton 
 would at once have been guessed for what 
 she was, the mother of a large family, and 
 the mistress of the principal mansion in the 
 villaf^e — not a Hall nor a Park, nor even an
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 6 
 
 ancient Manor, but the simple, roomy, old- 
 fashioned place, which rejoiced in the name 
 of Wynthorpe House. She came in with 
 the air of a person who has not much time 
 to lose; and, after the first cordial greetings, 
 entered upon the business which had led her 
 to call, in passing the house, and which was 
 that of inviting Mrs, Constable and Amy 
 to dine at the House, on the following 
 evening, to meet some new people who had 
 lately come to live in the neighbourhood, 
 Mr. and Miss Clyde. 
 
 The invitation was immediately accept- 
 ed, and, by Amy, with some enthusiasm, 
 as she wished to meet Miss Clyde, whom 
 she had seen at church, and greatly ad- 
 mired. 
 
 " But you have called upon them, surely?" 
 said Mrs. Lyttelton. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; but Miss Clyde was out, and 
 Mrs. Clyde does not see visitors, and when 
 the visit Avas returned we were out ; but 
 
 B 2
 
 4 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Avhat do you think of them, Mrs. Lyttel- 
 ton?" 
 
 ''Why, Amy, I hardly know; Mr. Clyde 
 is a thorough gentleman, and Miss Clyde is 
 handsome and lady-like, but the girls and I 
 did not get on much with her. She has a 
 variable manner ; seems interested in what 
 one says at one moment, and indifferent the 
 next. However, you will judge for your- 
 self. And I must not stay — I have a box to 
 send off to Sydney to-day, and I am going 
 to see if I can get any of Betty Pearson's 
 apples for him. He says they are better 
 than any in our own orchard ; so good-bye 
 to you both. Writing to Lionel, Mrs. Con- 
 stable ? Give my love to hiin, and say we 
 hope he will come doAvn before the shooting 
 is irood for nothing:. Good-bve af^^ain." 
 
 Mrs. Lyttelton departed, and ]\Irs. Con- 
 stable continued her letter to her son, a ris- 
 ing young barrister in London ; whilst Amy 
 withdrew to her own room, to decide what
 
 MEASURE EOll MEASURE. 5 
 
 dress she should wear the following evening, 
 and to wonder what kind of person Miss 
 Clyde would prove, and whether her ad- 
 vent would have much influence over the 
 social circle. 
 
 The Clydes were quite strangers at Wyn- 
 thorpe, and all that was known of Mr. Clyde 
 when he came down and took the Palace — 
 an old mansion which had once been an 
 episcopal residence — was, that he was a 
 wealthy London merchant, and that his 
 house was in some way connected with South 
 America. Mrs. Clyde was at present an 
 invalid, and rarely appeared out of doors, 
 and the family consisted only of a daughter, 
 whose decided personal attractions and strik- 
 ing air caused some excitement amongst the 
 youthful inhabitants of the neighbourhood. 
 
 W3aithorpe was a quiet place, with but 
 little visiting, and the Clydes had not dined 
 out, since their arrival, before the dinner 
 given in their honour by the Lytteltons,
 
 b MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 which was not at all a formal affair. Onl}^ 
 the Constables, and the clerg}Tiian and his 
 wife, were invited to meet the strangers, with 
 exception of a young farming bachelor from 
 Woodstone, who had just begun to pay- 
 rather suspicious attention to Helen Lyttel- 
 ton, the eldest daughter of the house. 
 
 Amy and her mother arrived early, and 
 were comfortably established in the draw- 
 ing-room before the Clydes entered. Miss 
 Clyde came in, leaning on her father*s arm, 
 and the first sight of her arrested Amy's 
 attention. She was not exactly tall, though 
 decidedly above the middle height, and her 
 fio^ure was slio-ht and eleo:ant. Her head 
 was remarkably well-formed, and beautifully 
 set on ; and her abundant dark hair was 
 arranged so as to show the tips of her deli- 
 cate ears, and to mark the outline of her 
 face in a graceful line, harmonising exactly 
 Avith the perfect curve of her neck and 
 shoulders. Her complexion was fair and
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 7 
 
 clear, but not brilliant ; her features small 
 and regular, and her eyes large and dark, 
 slightly shadowed by her broad white brow; 
 the eyebrows almost straight, and forming a 
 clearly-defined, slender line. Her mouth 
 was flexible, and capable of relaxing into 
 the most enchanting smile ; but at present 
 the lips were firmly closed, and an expres- 
 sion of mingled restlessness and discontent 
 hovered over them. 
 
 After the first interchange of civilities, 
 she remained silent, unless particularly ad- 
 dressed, and her manner struck Amy as 
 being very dignified and reserved. In a 
 short time, however, she found reason to 
 modify her opinion ; for, at dinner, Miss 
 Clyde, becoming animated by something 
 that was said by her neighbour, Fred Lyt- 
 telton, spoke so gaily, and laughed so 
 cheerily, that Amy could not consider her 
 the sage individual she had at first imagined 
 her. For Fred's wit was none of the
 
 8 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 brightest, and if his jokes could amuse her, 
 and draw her forth, it was clear she could 
 not be a very formidable person to get on 
 with. 
 
 In the drawing-room, amongst the ladies, 
 Miss Clyde's spirits again deserted her ; she 
 talked, it is true, admired Dora's drawings, 
 entered into the merits of two rival work- 
 patterns which Helen was exhibiting, and 
 discussed gardening with Mrs. Constable 
 and Amy ; but her manner was indifferent 
 and uninterested, and her laugh had a 
 forced air about it. Amy was puzzled ; 
 she did not think she should ever be able 
 to make a friend of Miss Clyde, yet she 
 longed to know more of her, and did not 
 even resent the tone of half-patronage which 
 the young woman of two-and-twenty 
 adopted, probably unconsciously, to the girl 
 of seventeen. 
 
 " I hope Mrs. Clyde finds the air of this 
 place agi^ce with her," said Mrs. Newton, the
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. d 
 
 clergyman's wife, interrupting Amy's at- 
 tempts at conversation with Miss Clyde. 
 
 " Thank you, she has been as well as 
 usual since we came here." 
 
 " I am sure I am glad to hear it," said 
 Mrs. Newton, with a considerable expression 
 of interest, yet mouthing her phrases so as 
 to give a rather tiresome impression to her 
 listener ; " and. Miss Clyde, I hope you too 
 like the neighbourhood. You will find us 
 very quiet here ; not much amusement for 
 a young person like yourself, accustomed, 
 no doubt, to a good deal of gaiety, coming 
 from London." 
 
 "I have not been accustomed to much 
 gaiety, and I am glad to be in the country," 
 answered Miss Clyde. 
 
 " Indeed ! Then you will be contented 
 perhaps — and I daresay you have many 
 resources; and if people can occupy them- 
 selves, and have good spirits, I always say 
 the place does not signify. And we have
 
 10 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 some objects of interest in this neighbour- 
 hood — some monastic ruins, which will 
 make a little change for you, as you have 
 nothing of the kind near London. And no 
 doubt you are musical : really, what an 
 advantage that is ! My daughter Georgy, 
 before she married, could always find 
 amusement at the instrument." 
 
 " You must miss her very much, I should 
 think." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, it is a trial ; but we must 
 expect young people to settle themselves in 
 life, and if they do so to the satisfaction of 
 their parents, nothing more can be desired." 
 
 "Certainly not — for the parents," said 
 Miss Clyde, with some emphasis. 
 
 "It is pleasant, too," continued Mrs. New- 
 ton, "to watch young people as they be- 
 come intimate with each otlier, particularly 
 when they are not nearly connected mth us. 
 Matters seem rather promising in that 
 quarter now," and Mrs. Newton glanced
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 11 
 
 across the room towards Helen Lyttelton, 
 who had just been joined by young Hey- 
 wood, and who certainly seemed far from 
 displeased at his approach. 
 
 Miss Clyde followed the glance with her 
 eyes, and something like an expression of 
 scorn flitted across her face, but she only 
 said, 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! I am not yet instructed 
 in all the affaires de coeiir that are going on 
 in this part of the world." 
 
 " And I daresay you do not feel much 
 interest yet in the gossip of the place. As I 
 often say to Mr. Newton, the beauty of 
 living in London is, that you need not 
 know your next-door neighbour, whilst 
 here every little thing is known. I assure 
 you. Miss Clyde, I feel the difference, for I 
 lived in London for some years when I was 
 a girl." 
 
 Here Mrs. Newton was interrupted l)y 
 Fred Lyttelton, Avho, seeing ]\Iiss Clyde's
 
 12 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 
 
 wearied look, and remembering how different 
 she had looked at dinner, approached to her 
 relief. He was not a very entertaining 
 companion, but there was more amusement 
 in laughing with or at him than in listen- 
 ing to Mrs. Newton ; so Miss Clyde again 
 brightened into a sort of fitful animation. 
 Soon afterwards music was proposed, and, 
 after a duet from the daughters of the house, 
 Miss Clyde was asked to play or sing. She 
 complied immediately, and going to the 
 piano, played the introductory chords to 
 Longfellow's ballad : "It is not always 
 Mav." 
 
 Her voice was remarkably rich and sweet, 
 and she had it under perfect control. She 
 sang atfirst without much feeling, but warmed 
 up into vehemence toAvards the close of the 
 song, wliicli she gave with a passionate aban- 
 don, and a tone of thrilling regret on the 
 last line, that almost startled her hearers. 
 
 She was greatly applauded, of course, par-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 13 
 
 ticularly by Mrs. Newton, who told Mrs. 
 Constable that she was sure that Miss Clyde 
 had been very well taught, as she knew it 
 was the way with first-rate masters to make 
 their pupils reserve themselves for the close 
 of the performance, and that the dwelling 
 with powerful expression on the last few 
 notes was a favourite trick. 
 
 " Perhaps so," said Mrs. Constable, " but 
 Miss Clyde's singing does not seem made 
 up of tricks ; but listen, she is singing 
 again." 
 
 This time the song was of a diiferent stamp; 
 it was one of those gay, brilliant Italian 
 cavatinas which frequently occur at the 
 close of an opera, and in which joy appears 
 to rise into passion. And with strange pas- 
 sion it was sung; the rapture seemed pitched 
 so high as to be almost unnatural, and to 
 make the depressed look Avhich returned to 
 Miss Clyde's features after she had concluded 
 it painfully conspicuous.
 
 14 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 She refused to sing any more, and was 
 very quiet during the remainder of the even- 
 ing. She and her father did not stay late, 
 and when they had gone an air of con- 
 straint was removed from the rest of the 
 party. How it was, no one knew ; but it 
 was agreed on all sides that Miss Clyde was 
 a difficult person to understand.
 
 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PALACE. 
 
 "Wynthokpe Palace was an old stone build- 
 ing, having several gables, adorned with 
 various ornamentations, that did not ap- 
 pear to belong to any particular style of 
 architecture. The windows were irregular 
 — some of modern shape and size, others of 
 ecclesiastical form, and with deep mullions — 
 but all alike shaded by flowering creepers 
 and climbing roses, or wreathed with 
 luxuriant ivy. Over the door, Avhich 
 iutted out a little from the building, were
 
 16 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 quaint devices and episcopal bearings ; 
 the entrance was level with the terrace, 
 which ran along the front of the edifice, 
 and from which a flight of steps, cut into 
 the turf bank, led on either side to the grass 
 enclosure below, a space scarcely large 
 enough to deserve the name of a park, but 
 resembling rather a hilly, tree-sprinkled 
 field, and boarded by a thick ring of sombre 
 fir-trees. Behind, and at the sides of the 
 house, the ground rose, and was well-wooded 
 — so that the old Palace was well sheltered 
 from cold blasts, and was scarcely visible 
 from any neighbouring road, except that in 
 front, which led to the village. 
 
 From the terrace, however, the view was 
 wide and varied ; a rich yet not tame land- 
 scape lay stretched, map-like, beyond the fir 
 plantations ; hamlets were seen dispersed 
 amongst the fields and woods ; whilst, on 
 clear days, might be traced, embosomed in 
 deep forest, faint outlines of an ancient grey
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 17 
 
 building, the gem of the whole vale, the 
 famed abbey of Glendale. 
 
 A chain of rounded, heath-covered hills 
 bounded this view, upon which Beatrice 
 Clyde was now looking vaguely, rather 
 than with the eye of observation. It was a 
 clear, bright morning, and, as she stood lean- 
 ing against the railings which bordered the 
 terrace, she seemed to gain new beauty from 
 the fresh breeze and animating sunshine. 
 There was an open, candid expression on 
 her features, utterly diiFerent from either 
 the random gaiety which had flashed across 
 them, at intervals, the night before, or the 
 listless pensiveness which had shaded them. 
 She looked younger, better, happier, more 
 as nature had intended her to look, but as, 
 unfortunately, she seldom did look ; for her 
 youth had suffered a blight which had em- 
 bittered and partially warped a disposition 
 naturally sweet and noble ; and which led 
 her into frequent inconsistencies, all the 
 
 VOL. I. C
 
 18 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 more because her spirit was high, and her 
 craving for happiness intense. 
 
 "Ah, Beatrice!" said Mr. Clyde, who had 
 just appeared from the house, as he joined 
 his daughter, " out already ! You look as 
 fresh as a rose this morning. I think your 
 dissipation last night has done you good." 
 
 A slight shade passed over Beatrice's face. 
 
 " Oh, I don't think it could affect me 
 much in any way. I was never at a more 
 stupid party in my life." 
 
 " You appeared to enjoy it, I thought, 
 part of the time." 
 
 " You mean when I was talking with that 
 young Lyttelton ? Yes, he amused me 
 rather." 
 
 " A worthy young man he seems," said 
 her father, somewhat gravely ; "but I did 
 not see anything very amusing about him." 
 
 " Well, not exactly, but " 
 
 " I think I know what you mean ; but, 
 Beatrice, there are some ways of amusing
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 19 
 
 yourself which I do not wish you to foUow. 
 You, of all people, should be on your guard 
 against " 
 
 " Really, papa, what a sermon ! " Bea- 
 trice's cheeks flushed proudly as she turned 
 to go into the house. ^' 1 don't think I have 
 ever oiven cause for such warnino-s, and 
 there is not much fear that I ever shall. I 
 did not think you could talk in such a 
 womanish way." 
 
 " I must watch you as a woman would : 
 your mother is not able to be a guard to 
 you." 
 
 Beatrice made no reply, but went into the 
 house, and proceeded to the breakfast-room. 
 No further allusion was made to the occur- 
 rences of the evening before, and her counte- 
 nance appeared again unclouded. She talked 
 cheerfully with her father on various sub- 
 jects, chiefly general and literary rather than 
 personal. When the letters and newspapers 
 were brought in, she rose from the break- 
 
 c2
 
 20 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 fast-table, saying she must go and see her 
 mother, and, passing through some curious 
 up-and-doT\Ti passages, and mounting a wide 
 flight of stairs, with heavy oak balustrades, 
 she reached a landing from which a door 
 opened into her mother's dressing-room. 
 She paused a moment before entering, even 
 after a soft "come in" had given the desired 
 permission. It seemed as if some effort 
 were necessary either to compose her features 
 to a particular expression, or to train her 
 mind to a certain set of thoughts, before she 
 could appear before her mother. 
 
 She went into the room, however, bright 
 and beaming — as her father had said, "as 
 fresh as a rose " — and kissed the pale, deli- 
 cate face, reclining amidst luxurious pillows, 
 with a warmth and heartiness that called 
 forth a smile and a look of animation upon 
 the invalid's countenance. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde was a very pretty woman 
 still, and had been a beauty ; her features
 
 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 21 
 
 resembled those of Beatrice, but were with- 
 out their fire and intelligence; and when the 
 first pleasure of the greeting had died away, 
 they assumed a querulous air, such as those 
 of Beatrice could never have worn, by any 
 possibility. 
 
 Any one Avho had now heard the lively 
 description given by Beatrice of the people 
 she had met the night before, would scarcely 
 have believed her to be the same girl who 
 had sat silent and sarcastic in Mrs. Lyttel- 
 ton's drawing-room. 
 
 " Shall you find nice companions in the 
 girls, do you think ? " asked Mrs. Clyde, 
 after Beatrice had been laughing at Mrs. 
 Newton's recommendation of " monastic 
 ruins " to her as a little diversion. 
 
 " I don't know ; I like the youngest Miss 
 Lyttelton, and a sweet-looking little thing. 
 Amy Constable, the best. Miss Dora Lyttel- 
 ton is one of those quiet, proper girls to 
 whom I have an aversion."
 
 22 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I thought you liked quiet people." 
 
 "So I do, sometimes ; but she is — oh ! 
 I know so exactly what people say of her — 
 that she could not do an unladylike thing." 
 
 ''• Well, my dear, I am sure they would 
 say that of you." 
 
 " I don't mean the same thing. I mean 
 that the lady is more in her than the woman. 
 And yet, she is feminine, excels in work, I 
 feel sure, and is fond of gardening, and is 
 the kind of woman men like to protect, and 
 so on — and she would never speak too 
 openly, or laugh too loud, or do anything 
 at a wrong time. But it is foolish to take 
 a dislike to one who is doubtless a very 
 excellent person." 
 
 " But Miss Lyttelton — the eldest — what 
 is she ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," said Beatrice, 
 with a change of tone — a something scarcely 
 describable, but which grated unpleasantly 
 on the ear ; " slie was occupied all the
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 23 
 
 night with an adorer, a Mr. Heywood; and, 
 from what Mrs. Newton told me, the affair 
 is likely to prove a serious one. They had 
 only eyes for each other, of course, and 
 fancied that no one else had ears, for they 
 were not careful enough to prevent some 
 stray words reaching me. 1 tried in vain 
 not to hear, when we were all standing near 
 the piano, but they were so wrapt up in 
 each other, that they seemed unconscious 
 that anyone else was there. How can 
 people be so absurd ? " 
 
 Beatrice turned away, and began to 
 search amongst the books and papers on the 
 table. 
 
 " Poor child ! " murmured Mrs. Clyde, 
 in a half-audible voice. Why Beatrice was 
 to be pitied seemed scarcely clear, yet there 
 was something rather painful in hearing the 
 almost sneering tone used by one young 
 woman in speaking of the innocent happi- 
 ness of another. When Beatrice spoke again
 
 24 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 her manner was different, and her voice 
 had resumed the playful, almost child-like 
 intonation she adopted towards her mother. 
 She talked of flowers, birds, dresses, work- 
 patterns, in as feminine a style as her aver- 
 sion, Dora Lyttelton, could have done, un- 
 til at length Mrs. Clyde dismissed her to 
 her own pursuits, saying she should like to 
 read a little. 
 
 " T am interested in that book you began 
 to me yesterday ; I will go on with it by 
 myself You don't care much for novels, 
 Beatrice, but I am sure this is a good 
 one. 
 
 " I know it is, and I have skimmed 
 through it," said Beatrice, placing the first 
 volume of "Agatha's Husband" in her 
 mother's hands; " only one gets tired of so 
 much love — all the books bring it so per- 
 petually before one." 
 
 "That is because young people hardly 
 ever tire of hearing about it."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 25 
 
 '* Perhaps so; they have either experienced, 
 or hope to experience it." 
 
 Beatrice left the room as she spoke, and 
 repaired to her OAvn little study, where she 
 soon buried herself in German metaphysics. 
 But the mood did not last long, and it was 
 a relief to her when her father knocked at 
 her door, and asked her to ride with him. 
 
 Beatrice was an enthusiastic and daring 
 horsewoman ; and as she flew along, with 
 the wind beatins; ao-ainst her face, and felt 
 beneath her the spirited movements of her 
 favourite Arabian, she experienced for the 
 time a keen enjoyment of animal life, which 
 satisfied her thirst for happiness more than 
 anything she knew. Mr. Clyde was as 
 fond of exercise as his daughter, and he 
 proposed that they should extend their ride 
 to Railton, a town about seven miles off, 
 where he had some business. 
 
 Beatrice was quite willing, and, carried 
 away by the excitement of exercise, and the
 
 ?6 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 clear autumn air, she did not relax her 
 speed until they had reached the entrance 
 of the town. Railton was a rather large 
 place, boasting a cathedral, a gaol, a town- 
 hall, and barracks. But it was somewhat 
 quiet, notwithstanding these pretensions : 
 there was little trade to render it bustlings 
 or gaiety to enliven it, and not enough 
 traffic along the streets to make the vision 
 of Beatrice and her father as they rode 
 through unremarked. 
 
 "There's a fine girl!" said young Captain 
 Denbigh, of the 121st, as he stood with a 
 knot of gentlemen at the door of the library, 
 a few yards from the shop where Mr. and 
 Miss Clyde were pausing. "Does anyone 
 know who she is ? " 
 
 " I do," answered Fred Lyttelton, with 
 some importance of manner. He was very 
 fond of riding over to Railton to see the 
 officers, and had come this morning to offer 
 some shooting to his particular friends.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 27 
 
 Captain Denbigh and Mr. Curzon. ^' She 
 is a Miss Clyde, and her father has just 
 taken the old Palace." 
 
 "What Palace?" 
 
 " Ours — Wynthorpe Palace, I mean. 
 They dined with us last night; and she 
 sings stunningly ! Ay, and talks too." 
 
 " She's very handsome, undoubtedly," 
 said Captain Denbigh, after a rather long 
 stare, dropping his eyes, however, the mo- 
 ment Beatrice drew near. He was not 
 ungentlemanly enough to let a woman see 
 he was staring at her. 
 
 Fred Lyttelton started forward ; bowed, 
 and flushed with pleasure in return to 
 Beatrice's greeting; and then submitted 
 with a good grace to the cross-questioning 
 of his companions, on the subject of his 
 intimacy with the Clydes.
 
 28 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A RESTLESS HEART. 
 
 Not far from Wynthorpe House was a 
 sequestered little glade, the favourite haunt 
 of the young Lytteltons and their friends. 
 Beatrice Clyde, in a ramble one gorgeous 
 autumn afternoon, surprised a cluster of 
 girls seated at work, reading, sketching 
 trees, and chatting. She half hesitated 
 when she saw the group, uncertain whether 
 she had been trespassing upon forbidden 
 ground ; but the voice of Dora, who, truly, 
 always said the right thing in the right 
 place, re-assured her.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 29 
 
 "We often come here on fine afternoons," 
 said Dora, "it is such a pretty snug spot ; 
 but it does not belong to our private 
 grounds, and is free to anyone. Will you 
 not join us ? " 
 
 Beatrice was not unwilling ; slie saw that 
 Amy Constable was there, and she felt in- 
 clined to know more of her. The conver- 
 sation, however, which had seemed animated 
 enough when she approached, gradually 
 flagged, and the attention of some of the 
 party appeared irresistibly attracted towards 
 a corner of the wood from which shots were 
 occasionally heard. 
 
 Helen Lyttelton, in particular, grew silent 
 and abstracted, and watched the path which 
 led from the wood to the fields with in- 
 creasing interest. 
 
 "Who are shooting near?" asked Beatrice 
 of Amy, who was sitting close to her. 
 
 "TheLytteltons and some of their friends," 
 answered Amy ; " we took them luncheon
 
 30 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 some time ago to the Lady's Planting, and 
 there was a sort of arrangement, I believe, 
 that they were to join us here, and walk 
 home with us." 
 
 '' You are at the Lytteltons', then ? " 
 
 " I am spending the day ; Agnes Gres- 
 ford, a friend of mine, is staying at the 
 House, and I am nearly always there when 
 she is." 
 
 "I fear I am an interruption to your 
 chat," said Beatrice; "it would be better for 
 me to go home." 
 
 " Oh, why ? The girls are quite glad to 
 have you, and we have had enough private 
 talk for to-day." 
 
 Beatrice raised no further objection — 
 she almost wished she had not been drawn 
 into this circle, yet she had been feeling 
 lonely ; her own thoughts were not pleasant 
 companions, and a chat, even with girls 
 for whom she did not much care, was an 
 agreeable change. So she resolved to
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 31 
 
 Stay a little longer, and went on talking. 
 
 *^ Miss Lyttelton looks rather abstracted," 
 she remarked, observing that Helen had 
 twice neglected to answer a question that 
 had been put to her. 
 
 ^' She is watching for Mr. Heyivood," 
 said Amy, with a smile. " I believe they are 
 really engaged now." 
 
 " Indeed ! one always seems to fall into 
 the midst of love-affairs wherever one goes." 
 
 " Do you think so ? I am sure there 
 have not been many here since I came, and 
 this is the only one now." 
 
 "You are all so young," said Beatrice, 
 " doubtless the affairs will come in time." 
 
 She spoke half-sadly, in a tone that did 
 not suit the words. Amy looked up 
 quickly — 
 
 " You think us very silly, I daresay ; at 
 least you would, if you heard all the things 
 we talk about." 
 
 " Silly ! oh, no — only natural. I have
 
 32 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 not been much with young people " — Bea- 
 trice made an eiFort at speaking lightly — 
 "and I am old before my time, I daresa}^." 
 
 " I think Jessie is the most likely of us 
 to imitate Helen," said Amy, after a pause ; 
 ^'she and Mr. Curzon were oroinor on at such 
 a rate this morning. And I declare, there 
 he is, the first of the party, before even Mr. 
 Hey wood !" 
 
 Beatrice looked ; a slight young man, in 
 shooting costume, had joined the group, and 
 was exchanging banter with Jessie, a free, 
 speaking young lady, slightly inclined to be 
 "fast." 
 
 Beatrice rose immediately ; she wished 
 to depart before more gentlemen arrived, 
 and she was about to bid good-bye to Helen, 
 when a rino; of shootino;-coats and <nuis 
 seemed formed around her, and a chorus of 
 voices rose, entreating her to stay. 
 
 " Wliy cannot you come home with us? " 
 said Dora, determined to be polite to the
 
 MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. 33 
 
 belle of the neighbourhood, though she did 
 not feel much affection for her ; " Mamma 
 will be glad if you will join us, I am sure." 
 
 " Thank you, but I am expected at home; 
 I must say good afternoon." 
 
 "Let me walk home with you, Miss 
 Clyde," said Fred Lyttelton, in a low voice ; 
 "it is growing dusk, and those rascally 
 poachers are about." 
 
 " They are not likely to attack me," said 
 Beatrice, laughing ; " and I am accustomed 
 to walk alone as late as this." 
 
 " Why don't you ask her to come in the 
 evening?" said Captain Denbigh, apart to 
 Jessie, " you know you promised I should 
 hear the wonderful songstress you raved 
 about." 
 
 " I am not in authority ; you should ask 
 Helen." 
 
 " She is too pre-occupied ; but perhaps Miss 
 Dora will listen to reason. You know 
 there was some talk of a dance this evening, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and another lady will do no harm, for 
 Curzon and I can dance you all off your 
 feet." 
 
 Jessie said a few words to Dora, which 
 had the effect of calling forth an invitation 
 to Beatrice, to go over to the House in the 
 evening, since she was obliged to go home to 
 dinner. Fred seconded Dora with all his 
 might, and Beatrice yielded. She also ac- 
 cepted his escort as far as the high-road, and 
 enchanted him by talking down to his com- 
 prehension, and laughing at his jokes all the 
 way. 
 
 At dinner she told her father of her 
 engagement, and half apologised for leaving 
 him to spend the evening alone ; but Mr. 
 Clyde said he was glad for her to have any 
 change, adding, 
 
 " Your mother is pretty well to-night, so 
 I shall go and sit with her ; " and Beatrice, 
 when she looked into her mother's dressing- 
 room to say "good night," found her father
 
 MEASURE FOU MEASURE. 35 
 
 established in a cliair close to the couch, one 
 arm placed at the back of it, and his hand 
 smoothing his wife's still abundant tresses 
 with lover-like fondness. Beatrice said 
 her adieux rather hurriedly, and went doAvn 
 to the carriage which was waiting to convey 
 her to Wynthorpe House. 
 
 The ladies were in the drawing-room 
 when she entered, and the gentlemen almost 
 immediately joined them. Beatrice was 
 soon monopolized by Fred, who, on every 
 occasion when they had met,- had shown a 
 marked desire to cultivate her society. 
 
 Dancing was proposed, and of course he 
 was her first partner, and not by any means 
 a despicable one. Still, he was not a person 
 to keep Beatrice's attention fully occupied, 
 and her eyes wandered to the other couples 
 during his most entertaining speeches. 
 
 She could not help witnessing the devo- 
 tion of the betrothed pair, young Hey wood 
 and Helen Lyttelton ; and Jessie and Mr. 
 
 d2
 
 3G MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Curzon were carrying on a flirtation which 
 was at least equally conspicuous. Even the 
 quiet Dora was engrossed by the soft 
 speeches of Mr. Langdale, the young cu- 
 rate, who had been invited for the evening; 
 and little Amv Constable was lauo-hino; and 
 talking nonsense with Captain Denbigh. 
 
 '' It is in real life as in books," thought 
 Beatrice ; " nothing but marrying or giving 
 in marriage, or, if not the realities, the 
 shadows of them." Thev sickened her heart, 
 yet she could not fly from them. Were 
 they so pleasant, these realities, that people 
 caught at the shadows and played with 
 them? How if she, too, joined in the 
 game? It had been a dano^erous one to 
 many, she had been told, but there was ex- 
 citement in it. Excitement and life ! — and 
 Beatrice thirsted for life, and chafed in the 
 narrow prison in which she felt her whole 
 being, outer and inner, fettered — and at the 
 fate to which chance, or her evil genius, had
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 37 
 
 bound her. Freedom ! Life ! Joy ! — for 
 these she longed. These she knew to be un- 
 attainable. But, oh ! to feel for one mo- 
 ment the reflected light of them ! To 
 fancy, even for a little time, that which 
 could never be real. To guess what hap- 
 piness was like. To taste, but for an in- 
 stant, the highest bliss that earth could give, 
 though conscious all the while that the bliss 
 was hollow, the imagination of it fleet- 
 ing ! 
 
 She roused herself from these wild fan- 
 cies. Fred was asking her if she would go 
 on dancing. 
 
 A sudden awakening, an affirmative 
 smile, and Beatrice danced ofl" again. A 
 glorious dancer she was ! thought Fred — 
 little guessing, poor fellow, in his simple- 
 minded admiration, and with his simple 
 ideas of woman's nature, the tempest of 
 thought that was raging within the breast 
 of the dainty, fairy-footed creature, whose
 
 38 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 little feet beat time with his, as if to float 
 for ever through life, in a ball-room, was 
 their only business in the world. 
 
 Fred was not the only person in the 
 room who admired Miss Clyde's waltzing. 
 Amy Constable and Captain Denbigh were 
 at this moment discussing it; and Amy, 
 who had been seized with vehement admi- 
 ration for Beatrice from the very lirst, and 
 who lavished upon her all the raptures com- 
 monly felt by young girls towards women 
 a few years older than themselves, who 
 have struck their fancy, asked Captain 
 Denbigh if he did not think Miss Clyde 
 very beautiful ? 
 
 "Beautiful? Ah — well— no— I don't 
 know that she is quite that — but I admire 
 her far more than a beauty. She looks so 
 thoroughly a lady, and altogether well got 
 up. Like one of Leech's girls in ^ Punch.' " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! — how can you say so ? I am 
 sure she is much more like a queen, or — or
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 39 
 
 — the heroine of a poem, or something of 
 that sort." 
 
 Captain Denbigh laughed. 
 
 " I assure you, in comparing her to one 
 of Leech's girls, I meant the highest com- 
 pliment it was in my power to pay. They 
 quite realize my ideal of the English lady. 
 You don't mean to say you do not admire 
 Leech ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do admire him very much ; 
 but then his pictures seem so much made 
 up of dress, and so forth. You could not 
 fancy the girls pretty in old - fashioned 
 dresses, you know." 
 
 " And yet, with every change of costume, 
 the pictures are equally attractive, so your 
 argument proves nothing." 
 
 " Well — perhaps — but I don't like to 
 think of Miss Clyde as a fashionable 
 lady." 
 
 "I see you want some more romantic 
 comparison for her. You think her like
 
 40 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 one of Tennyson's loves — Eleanore or Mar- 
 garet, perhaps ? " 
 
 " Oh, rare, pale Margaret," said Amy, 
 laughing; "no, I am not quite so foolish. 
 Captain Denbigh, and you need not make 
 fun of me; and everyone has finished danc- 
 ing, so I should like to sit down." 
 
 Captain Denbigh led Amy to a seat and 
 placed himself near her ; for Beatrice was 
 going to sing, and the post was a good one 
 for hearing and seeing. 
 
 She sang one of the songs from Tenny- 
 son's " Princess," and the plaintive music 
 seemed especially suited to her style and 
 her rich voice, although, as Amy told Cap- 
 tain Dembigh, no one could sing joyous 
 songs with more expression than Miss 
 Clyde. 
 
 " She is splendid ! — positively splendid ! 
 I must have the next dance with her ! " ex- 
 claimed Captain Denbigh, more to himself 
 than to little Amy, and he rushed up to the
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 41 
 
 piano to be introduced. People were not 
 yet ready for another dance, and Beatrice 
 lingered by the piano, turning over the Lyt- 
 teltons' music. Captain Denbigh joined her 
 in the enployment, and said suddenly, 
 
 " Oh ! here are Mendelssohn's ' Lieder 
 ohne Worte;' do play one of them, Miss Clyde 
 — I am sure you know them." 
 
 Beatrice, after a hasty glance at the eager, 
 animated face looking into hers, took the 
 piece of music, and played one of the 
 wildest, most passionate movements with 
 intense energy and abandon. 
 
 " Ah, I know that ; my mother plays it 
 sometimes, and I always liked it ; but my 
 sister says it reminds her of trotting horses ; 
 an odd simile, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes — yet I can understand it," said 
 Beatrice, slowly ; " there is such fire in it — 
 a wild yet steady rush — as if some great 
 deed were to be the climax. It is one of 
 my favourites — it is so full of life."
 
 42 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Now play another darling of mine — the 
 * Rose on the Harp ' ; will you ? " 
 
 Beatrice complied ; the light arpeggio 
 chords contrasted strangely with the vehe- 
 ment, swiftly-following staccato notes of the 
 last piece ; but they were given with equal 
 expression, and the passion was as strong in 
 one as in the other. 
 
 "Many thanks," said Captain Denbigh, 
 when she had finished; "I have had a great 
 treat — now it is time for our dance." 
 
 Beatrice danced more than once with 
 Captain Denbigh — more times, in fact, than 
 she ought to have done in so small a party, 
 and more times, decidedly, than Fred Lyt- 
 telton approved. Yet he was glad that 
 Miss Clyde seemed to appreciate Denbigh, 
 who Avas the finest fellow under the sun, 
 and the sharpest. 
 
 Beatrice did like Captain Denbigh to a 
 certain degree ; he was more entertaining 
 than Fred ; he was enthusiastic — and she
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 43 
 
 liked enthusiasm — the more because she 
 believed she had none herself; then he talked 
 of his mother and sisters, which she had 
 heard few young men liked to do, and did 
 this without being in the least a milksop. 
 
 He was thorouo^hlv o:entlemanlv-lookino: ; 
 not handsome, but with a good manly 
 figure; and features which, without being at 
 all regular, were far from common-place. 
 The eyes, too, had a good honest expression ; 
 and, with some conceit about the whole 
 bearing of the man, there was yet a kindly 
 air about him whicli invited confidence, and 
 made him a universal favourite, except with 
 those who were too strong-minded to for- 
 give him his little surface affectations. 
 
 Beatrice really enjoyed her conversation 
 with him, for he could talk on her favourite 
 subjects— books, art, and music — if not with 
 deep discrimination, yet with a genuine 
 appreciation of the good and beautiful. 
 
 And then his pleasure in talking with her
 
 44 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 was SO manifest ; his sympatliy, when 
 he did sympathise, so ardent ; his dissent 
 so heartily expressed, yet so regretfully, as 
 if he almost pitied her for her opinions. 
 
 Beatrice was not vain — general admira- 
 tion did not gratify her, but the kind of 
 interest Captain Denbigh showed in her 
 gave her a pleasant sensation, and the 
 interest which she also began to feel in him 
 was still a pleasanter one. 
 
 The evening drew to a close, and Beatrice 
 said, "good night" to her entertainers with 
 real reo;ret. Fred took her to the carriao;e, 
 but Captain Denbigh had disappeared. Be- 
 fore, however, she had passed the lodge-gates 
 she heard the tramp of a horse's feet behind 
 her, and was scarcely surprised when Cap- 
 tain Denbigh rode up to the side of the 
 carriage. 
 
 " I thought you were staying all night at 
 the Lytteltons'." 
 
 "No — Curzon is — but I prefer riding
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 45 
 
 home at night to turning out early in the 
 morning to be in time for parade at Railton. 
 And what can be pleasanter than a ride by 
 moonlight ? " 
 
 Beatrice looked up ; she had scarcely 
 noticed externals before ; now she became 
 aware that the scene around her was most 
 lovely ; the harvest moon, almost at its full, 
 was shedding a rich yellow gleam on the 
 autumn fields, tinting the tops of the oaks 
 mth mellow lustre, and casting into deeper 
 blackness the masses of firs which shut in 
 one side of the road. 
 
 " Yes, it is beautiful, but I am afraid I 
 don't appreciate moonlight. One feels as if 
 one ought to be sentimental," and she half 
 shuddered. 
 
 " Oh, don't say sentimental — it gives me 
 quite a difi*erent sensation. You'll laugh, I 
 daresay, at a fellow like me talking in this 
 way, but moonlight seems to me to stir 
 some higher feeling within one, something
 
 46 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 better than sentiment. I'm sure you 
 know what I mean, or you could not play 
 Mendelssohn's music as you do." 
 
 " Moonlight and Mendelssohn ! — do they 
 rouse the same feelings ? " 
 
 "Ah, you laugh at me, and I cannot 
 explain, yet they both do make me feel — 
 what shall I say? Half-sad and yet happy. 
 Mendelssohn's ' Wedding March ' always 
 makes one feel how good one ought to be, 
 and yet so awfully jolly." 
 
 Beatrice laughed. 
 
 " You may laugh — but if I could talk 
 metaphysics, I could make you understand 
 me, and not laugh either. However, it will 
 be as well for me to keep within my own 
 depth. Are you coming to our races at 
 Railton ? " 
 
 " I did not know there were to be any, 
 and I depend entirely upon my father. If 
 he chooses to go, I shall go too." 
 
 "But why not come with the Lytteltons?
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 47 
 
 A jolly family they are — ready for any- 
 thing." 
 
 ^' 1 don't know that I should care much 
 for the races." 
 
 *' Oh, I'm sure you would — they are not 
 of the wicked gambling sort, you know — 
 only got up by ourselves. I am to ride." 
 
 "That is an inducement certainly," said 
 Beatrice, laughing. 
 
 " No, I did not mean you to say that. 
 But if you do come, and will back me in 
 gloves, I have no doubt I shall feel in- 
 spired." 
 
 A little more light talk, and the carriage 
 drive was reached, at which point Captain 
 Denbigh must part from Beatrice, to pur- 
 sue his way to Railton. 
 
 When he had gone, Beatrice threw herself 
 back in the carriage with a deep sigh. She 
 did not know why she should feel so par- 
 ticularly unhappy to-night, yet she was 
 miserable. The moonlisfht and the beaut v»
 
 48 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 which had the effect of producing happy 
 emotions in her late companion, filled her, 
 on the contrary, with strange yearnings, 
 and gave her an oppressive sense of solitude. 
 Her own individuality seemed too heavy to 
 bear. She half started from her seat once 
 or twice, and stretched out her arms, as if 
 she would have flown away — whither she 
 knew not — anywhere, to loose the sense of 
 self. But as the carriage wheels grated on 
 the gravel in front of the Palace, she re- 
 covered her calmness, and schooled her face 
 into the expression it usually wore within 
 her own home. " How wild I am ! " she said 
 softly to herself; " T have borne my burden 
 hitherto, and it must be borne." 
 
 Mr. Clyde met her in the hall, with the 
 words, 
 
 "I am glad you are come, Beatrice — your 
 mother is restless, and says she cannot sleep 
 till you have talked to her, so go up to her 
 at once."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 49 
 
 Beatrice kissed her father, took her 
 candle, and walked lightly upstairs to her 
 mother's room. 
 
 " How late you are, child!" murmured the 
 peevish voice of Mrs. Clyde ; " what have 
 you been doing ? " 
 
 "Dancing, mamma, and singing, and 
 laughing, and talking," said Beatrice, cheer- 
 fully; "but I am sorry I stayed so late, 
 particularly as you cannot sleep to-night. 
 Shall I read to you ? " 
 
 "No, I would rather hear you talk — I 
 like to hear that you have been enjoying 
 yourself, my dear," — Mrs. Clyde's tone grew 
 more cordial, — "and let me look at you, love. 
 1 hardly saw you before you went." 
 
 Beatrice placed her candle on a table, and 
 approached the bed. A lamp, which hung 
 above the chimney-piece, illuminated her 
 figure, and her simple white dress was well 
 relieved by a high crimson screen which 
 stood before the fire-place. Her dark hair 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 had been pushed a little further back from 
 her brow than usual ; for the night was a 
 warm one, and, from the same cause perhaps, 
 a rich carmine flush tinged her ordinary 
 colourless cheeks. Her lips just parted in a 
 gentle smile, but her eyes shone with unusual 
 lustre, and their expression scarcely harmo- 
 nised with that of the mouth. They had 
 an excited look, or rather, perhaps, there 
 was in them the remnant of past excite- 
 ment. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde, an intense admirer of beauty, 
 was not insensible to the brilliance of her 
 daughter's to-night. She half sighed as she 
 said, raising herself on one arm to look at 
 her, 
 
 "Ah ! child, you are looking your best — 
 better, I believe, than I ever did ; and yet 
 my beauty brought me greater satisfaction 
 than yours does to you." 
 
 " Why, mamma, I assure you I am pleased 
 to see myself look well I " but there was a
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 51 
 
 painful quiver on Beatrice's lips as she said 
 the words. 
 
 "When I was a girl," pursued Mrs. 
 Clyde, " I had great pleasure in admiration, 
 and perhaps encouraged it too much — I 
 don't know — I never meant any harm ; and 
 when your father came, and I loved him 
 my only joy in my beauty was to know that 
 it gave pleasure to him. Yes, I do believe 
 my greatest delight was to lay my triumphs 
 at his feet. But you, Beatrice, what good 
 is your beauty to yourself or anyone ? It 
 
 brings you no love, no Ah ! when 
 
 you were a baby, and people used to stop 
 and admire you in the parks, I used to look 
 forward to the day when I should see you 
 the belle of ball-rooms, courted, sought 
 after — and now, how is it ? No one sees 
 you, at least, if they do, I am not with you ; 
 and whatever admiration you gain, is spoilt 
 to me by the thought that — of the different 
 destiny I had planned for you." 
 
 E 2 
 
 UNIVtKSHf Or
 
 52 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Dear mamma, don't excite yourself 
 over this ; admiration is vanity, and beauty 
 worthless — so the good people say." 
 • "Yet to see you leading this monoto- 
 nous life, day after day, no one to notice — " 
 
 " Don't say so ; I assure you there are 
 people to notice me even here." Beatrice 
 drew herself up, with a sort of mock pride. 
 "If you had seen me to-night — yes, I do 
 think I could have some of your sort of 
 triumphs, if I chose." 
 
 " What ? do tell me, Beatrice, dear. 
 No ; your father is so particular, he would 
 not like it. But just tell me, did you meet 
 any new person to-night ? " 
 
 " Some officers from Railton ; one of 
 them agreeable — young though, compared 
 with me — but I don't think he found me 
 altogether despicable." Beatrice checked 
 herself suddenly. " How weak I am ! I 
 have always despised this sort of thing." 
 
 Mrs. Clyde looked wistfully at the hand-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 53 
 
 some face, kindling with mixed emotions. 
 
 " Beatrice, my dear love, I wish you could 
 enjoy your youth." 
 
 "I do, mamma; what do I want more 
 than I have ? " 
 
 " A great many things ; at least, I should 
 have thought so, at your age. But you are 
 more strong-minded than your mother — 
 you have no dreams as she had." 
 
 " Have I not ? " said Beatrice, sadly ; 
 looking straight before her, with the gaze 
 that sees not present things, but is striving 
 to pierce some vague future. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde did not speak for a minute or 
 two, but murmured to herself, half uncon- 
 sciously, one or two bars of an old song, 
 falling gradually into the words, 
 
 " You'll in your girls again be courted, 
 And I'll go wooing in my boys," 
 
 " How do the words go, Beatrice ? That 
 old thing often comes into my head." 
 
 Beatrice did not answer, perhaps did not
 
 54 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 hear the question ; but suddenly flinging her- 
 self on an ottoman near her, the pent-up sen- 
 sations of the last few hours burst forth in a 
 torrent of involuntary, incoherent words : 
 
 " Yes, it is hard to feel unlike everyone ; 
 to see others — foolish enough they may be, 
 but it is happiness to them ; and to be soli- 
 tary — quite alone. All one's best thoughts 
 garnered up, never to be revealed — no, 
 that is not it — I could bear solitude — but 
 to know — oh ! mother, you know something 
 of what I feel — pity me ! you can guess, 
 surely. Now my heart seems bursting, and 
 yet I must still it, and show myself quiet, 
 proper, the well-regulated young lady. Oh ! 
 to be like giddy Jessie, or gentle little Amy 
 — anything but what I am ! " 
 
 " My dear, dear child ! " Mrs. Clyde rose 
 in bed, and held out her arms to the ex- 
 cited girl ; and her voice had, if not a sooth- 
 ing, a silencing effect. 
 
 Beatrice choked down two or three sobs,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 55 
 
 then raised herself from her prostrate at- 
 titude, and knelt down by her mother's 
 bed. 
 
 " How wrong I am, dear mamma ! — kiss 
 me, and I shall be better. Yes, indeed, I 
 will be calm again, content, and enduring. 
 Life is not meant for happiness ! " 
 
 "But such as you ought to be happy. 
 Oh ! my Beatrice, my pretty little child, 
 that I had such sweet fancies about, if I 
 could do anything " 
 
 "Do not say any more, mamma; I am 
 sorry I have disturbed you so. Try to for- 
 get it, and go to sleep — see, I am myself 
 again !" 
 
 It was true : a pale, quiet face was now 
 raised close to Mrs. Clyde's ; only one heavy 
 mass of hair, that had fallen loose in Bea- 
 trice's agitation, hung down her face, and 
 swept her shoulder — otherwise she looked as 
 she had done when she entered Mrs. Lyttel- 
 ton's drawing-room that night.
 
 56 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde could only sigh, and shed a 
 few tears ; but the real pain, lately expressed 
 in her voice, soon gave way to the querulous 
 discontent more usual to it. 
 
 Beatrice noted the alteration with plea- 
 sure; she could wrestle with trifling evils, 
 against the higher she had no power — and to 
 see her mother a prey to them, only awoke 
 anguish in herself. To amuse Mrs. Clyde, 
 she now went over the history of the even- 
 ing, bringing forward Captain Denbigh, for 
 the sake of giving interest to the narrative, 
 rather more prominently than she would 
 otherwise have done. 
 
 " Ah ! I should like him, I am sure," said 
 Mrs. Clyde, during a pause; "and I am 
 glad he appreciates your music. I hope you 
 will often meet." 
 
 "I don't suppose it is very likely we 
 shall — papa is not much inclined for society, 
 I think." 
 
 " I mil persuade him ; it is too bad to be
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 57 
 
 cooped up when you are young. Well, I 
 don't mind whatever comes, it is best to 
 seize a little pleasure in one's youth." 
 
 " Are you sleepy now, mamma ? " 
 
 " As sleepy as I shall be, I daresay — you 
 are, by asking. Well, I don't want your 
 eyes to lose their brightness by watching 
 me." 
 
 " I will stay still longer if you like, 
 mamma." 
 
 " No, no, my dear child, go to bed now. 
 Good night, good night ! " 
 
 Kisses, and parting words, and then 
 Beatrice took her light, and proceeded to 
 her o^vn room. She was not sleepy, and 
 placing the candle in a remote recess, 
 she drew up the blinds of a bow window^ 
 and looked out on the flood of moonlight 
 illumining the terrace and the landscape 
 below. She curled herself up on a low 
 ottoman, and clasped her hands above her 
 head, in an attitude that might have served
 
 58 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 a sculptor as a model for despair. But she 
 did not long remain thus — inaction was not 
 her nature ; she rose, paced the room, paus- 
 ino: each time she drew near the window, to 
 contemplate the scene below, of which the 
 peaceful air seemed to jar upon her nerves, 
 and yet to have a strange fascination for 
 her. Occasionally, a wild cry rose to her 
 lips, and then was crushed back within her 
 breast, with the utmost force of which she 
 was capable — the burthen of it was still, 
 Life, Freedom, Joy! 
 
 All her capacities for happiness seemed 
 to make themselves at once vividly felt 
 within her, only to end in bitter longing ; 
 her youth was passing from her without 
 granting her one moment's taste of the joy 
 that came, unasked, to others. In vain she 
 checked herself, and preached contentment, 
 delight in simple things — intellectual pur- 
 suits. Mockery ! the doctrines would not 
 satisfy her, and she knew it; she thirsted
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 59 
 
 for the wine of life, the true elixir, which 
 alone could satisfy a passionate temperament 
 like hers, keenly sensitive to every grief, and 
 yet more thrillingly alive to every emotion 
 of pleasure. 
 
 Then, a recklessness for a moment took 
 possession of her spirit. To lead a butterfly 
 life — to grasp the fleeting delights that most 
 nearly resembled happiness — to lose in 
 amusement that crushing sense of destiny 
 which for ever fell upon her with over- 
 whelming force — to drown care in trifles — 
 to forget — no, that could not be ; she had 
 high aspirations, grand aims, visions of a life 
 of beauty and usefulness ! Again she 
 writhed in mental torture ; her life could not 
 be what she chose to make it — no efforts of 
 hers could break one mesh of the net in 
 which the whole course of her actions, 
 even of her thoughts, was entwined. Was 
 she free even to think her own thoughts, 
 to dream her own dreams ?
 
 60 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Ah ! — a wild panther in its cage never 
 dashed itself against the bars, lacerating its 
 limbs with vain, fruitless force, more madly 
 than Beatrice now fought in thought 
 against the mental prison in which she felt 
 herself bound. 
 
 The moonlight had faded before the 
 white light of dawn ere her struggles 
 had ended — ere she had become sufficiently 
 calm to throw herself, chilled and exhausted, 
 upon her bed.
 
 61 
 
 CHAPTER ly. 
 
 CATCHING AT SHADOWS. 
 
 "Miss Clyde, do back me, just for half-a- 
 dozen, against Denbigh. Monson mil take 
 you in a moment, he knows so little of me 
 and my horse, and you will be sure to win." 
 
 Mr. Curzon was the speaker, and the 
 scene was the grand stand on the first day 
 of the Railton races. Beatrice's voice rose 
 clear and gay in reply : 
 
 " I cannot, indeed — I think I made a 
 half-promise to back Captain Denbigh ; and 
 if I have been rash, I must abide by the 
 consequences."
 
 62 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "No, upon my honour, Miss Clyde, you 
 shall not repent it. Back me to any 
 amount — I shall be sure to v/in." 
 
 Captain Denbigh spoke eagerly, and 
 looked with visible admiration on Beatrice's 
 face, which was shaded by a most becoming 
 hat, that would have been coquettish on 
 almost any one else, but was not on her — 
 her grand air prevented that. Her whole 
 costume was perfect, and not lost upon 
 Captain Denbigh, although his attention 
 was considerably engrossed by his own 
 attire, which set off his well- formed limbs 
 to great advantage. It had occupied his 
 thoughts for some time before, and the buff 
 jacket and black cap had only been decided 
 upon after having heard Beatrice say that 
 buff was a pretty colour. 
 
 The racers started. Beatrice was the 
 centre of a merry group, laughing and 
 talking to the gentlemen around her, and 
 scarcely heeding the progress of the race ;
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 63 
 
 but the remarks made on all sides soon let 
 her know that BufF and Black was gaining 
 ground — nay, distancing all competitors. 
 
 " He will never win, though ; you may 
 consider your gloves lost, Miss Clyde," said 
 young Heywood. 
 
 " Just like Denbigh," remarked Colonel 
 Morley, " always spends too much energy 
 at first. If I betted gloves, I should 
 have opposed you. Miss Clyde, on grounds 
 gained from observation of his character, 
 without having an idea of his riding or his 
 horse." 
 
 " My opportunities of observation have 
 not been so extensive as yours, Colonel 
 Morley," said Miss Clyde; "I would rather 
 trust my judgment of Captain Denbigh's 
 horsemanship than of his character." 
 
 " Yet it does not require much penetra- 
 tion to find it out — however, favour blinds 
 judgment, and Denbigh is generally liked 
 by ladies."
 
 64 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " And not by men ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I did not mean to imply any- 
 thing else. He is a capital fellow, Denbigh — 
 quite refreshing to old " 
 
 A shout stopped the speech — the race was 
 over! 
 
 Captain Brookes first ; Mr. Curzon 
 second; Captain Denbigh nowhere. He 
 came up, however, to the grand stand, as 
 blithe as ever, making his way quickly to 
 Beatrice. 
 
 " Miss Clyde — I am so sorry — upon my 
 word — I have disgraced your choice ! " 
 
 " Ladies lose greater valuables than gloves 
 sometimes, without complaining," muttered 
 Colonel Morley. 
 
 '*No — but, really — I should like to re- 
 trieve my character ; that absurd little Lilla 
 to knock up before the end ! — you will 
 never back me again. Miss Clyde ? " 
 
 " I don't know that. I shall first study 
 your character a little, as Colonel Morley
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 65 
 
 has done. If I find you always as rash as 
 you have shown yourself to-day, I shall 
 certainly not risk any more gloves over 
 you. 
 
 " Will you really study my character ? 
 Nothing would give me more pleasure." 
 
 " You are very confident." 
 
 " I don't mean to be — I don't expect the 
 result to be favourable, but it is pleasant to 
 be thought of." 
 
 Captain Denbigh was leaning over Bea- 
 trice's chair as he said these words, and 
 Mrs. Carleton, one of the Railton ladies, re- 
 marked to Dora Lyttelton, that she thought 
 Miss Clyde was carrying on a dreadful flir- 
 tation with Captain Denbigh — adding, 
 
 "Your brother Fred could do nothing 
 but talk about her, when first he came to 
 see us, after he had become acquainted 
 with her ; and he called her dignified, I re- 
 member. I don't see much dignity about 
 her now, do you ? " 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 06 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " No, " said Dora ; " she can be very 
 agreeable when she likes, and one cannot 
 exactly find fault with her manner ; but I 
 do not think she is quite the best companion 
 in the world for Jessie, who has taken a 
 great fancy to her." 
 
 " That little Miss Constable seems pinned 
 to her side, too ; is she very fond of her ? " 
 
 " So it seems ; she fascinates these young 
 girls, but I cannot understand why Mrs. 
 Constable encourages the intimacy so much. 
 Miss Clyde has been a good deal at the 
 Laurels' lately." 
 
 " She is with your party to-day, is she 
 not? You must introduce me, for I expect 
 you all to go home mth me to a high tea 
 — you have dined, I hope ? " 
 
 " Thank you, we dined early, that we 
 might be free for the rest of the day — but 
 we shall take you by storm " 
 
 ^'Oh, I have set my heart on having you; 
 and some of the officers are coming. It is
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 67 
 
 not my concern, you know, if Miss Clyde 
 chooses to make herself conspicuous with 
 Captain Denbigh, or anyone else." 
 
 " Of course not." 
 
 "Amy Constable grows pretty," pursued 
 Mrs. Carleton ; "is not her brother coming 
 shortly ? " 
 
 "Yes, I think so ; he always comes down 
 to shoot with my brothers." 
 
 "He is such a favorite of Edmund's — I 
 hardly know why, for Edmund does not 
 care much for young men, generally ; and 
 he has not seen so very much of Mr. Con- 
 stable — but he thinks him very clever." 
 
 " Do you like him yourself? " 
 
 " Pretty well ; I cannot always tell what 
 he means, and he is too liberal in his opin- 
 ions for me." 
 
 "I did not know you cared for politics." 
 
 " I don't mean politically — but he takes 
 up people one fancies better let alone, and 
 stands up sometimes too much for those 
 
 F 2
 
 68 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 who are in the wrong. Edmund says he 
 offends my prejudices." 
 
 Beatrice Clyde, when she was introduced 
 to Mrs. Carleton, accepted her invitation 
 without demur ; she belonged to the Wyn- 
 thorpe House party, and felt that she must 
 follow their movements. She was not sorry 
 when she found that Captain Denbigh was 
 one of the invited ; and as Mr. Carleton's 
 house was near, and every one walked there, 
 she did not think it necessary to interrupt 
 her conversation with him, and they tra- 
 versed the distance from the race-course to 
 the town together. 
 
 Mr. Carleton was a banker in Railton; and 
 as he and his wife were young, and fond of 
 society, his house was a frequent gathering- 
 place for out-of-toAvn families like the Lyt- 
 teltons, on occasions when any diversion 
 was going on in the town. It was favour- 
 ably situated ; standing a little back from 
 the road, which formed the principal en-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 69 
 
 trance to Railton, and having a tolerable 
 garden behind, sloping to the river, along 
 which was borne pleasantly the chime of 
 the cathedral bells — the gi'ey walls of the 
 cathedral itself being visible through the 
 trees. The drawing-room opened upon the 
 garden ; and as the evening was mild, the 
 entertainment assumed almost an al fresco 
 character. Beatrice Clyde had a chair 
 placed for her outside the French windows, 
 and Captain Denbigh and Fred Lyttelton 
 were her constant attendants. But not the 
 only ones; she was so lively and brilliant, 
 that she soon attracted others — amongst 
 them, the master of the house, a man of 
 sufficient talent to make a conversation with 
 him a pleasure greater than Beatrice often 
 enjoyed. Yet she did not let Captain Den- 
 bigh feel himself neglected — and even Fred 
 was gratified by finding that she could 
 laugh at his small wit. 
 
 " How jolly this is ! " said Captain Den-
 
 70 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 bigh, during a period when he was the only 
 person near her chair ; "I used to think 
 Railton the most stupid place I ever was in, 
 but now that one knows more people, it is 
 improving — and getting up these races was 
 a grand idea 1 I wish we could have them 
 every day, or something like them ! I do be- 
 lieve these Railton people only want to have 
 things proposed to them, to enter into 
 amusement as heartily as anyone. Would 
 it not be glorious to effect a transformation 
 amongst them? — to turn this dull, cramped, 
 cathedral society into a go-a-head, dashing 
 one ? Suppose you and I, Miss Clyde, set 
 to work to change it — I am sure we could 
 manaci^e it too:ether." 
 
 ^'T don't think I should do my part," said 
 Beatrice; " I am not so very fond of society 
 as you seem to think." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean to say you cannot do 
 without it, and I am not so absolutely de- 
 pendent upon it myself as to want it con-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 71 
 
 tinually. I could live in a desert with 
 books and drawing materials, but when one 
 is oblio:ed to herd with one's kind — messino^ 
 niofht after nisrht with the same set of fel- 
 lows — however good they may be, one 
 does long for something else — women's 
 society, in short. And that one can't have, 
 at least in a place like this, without dances 
 or theatres, or rows of some sort. Morning 
 calls are no go in this place — I'm sure I've 
 tried them long enough, with no result. A 
 mamma and three daughters seated in con- 
 clave, letting fall some sentences in turns, 
 about the Dean's last sermon, or Mr. Some- 
 body's new house, or the failure of the fruit 
 crop — no chance of a tete-a-tete of any sort, or 
 even a bit of badinage. The mammas al- 
 ways mount guard in Railton, I find; but no 
 doubt the girls are glad enough of a little 
 pleasure. If we could get up a ball, I dare- 
 say they would all go. Wouldn't it be fine 
 to have a Race Ball ? "
 
 72 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " Yes, capital ! " said Beatrice. 
 
 " You would come ? " 
 
 " Of course ; I am determined to get as 
 much amusement out of life as I can." 
 
 There was a hardness in her tone, which 
 did not suit the words, but Captain Denbigh 
 did not notice it. 
 
 " Bravo ! then we will have one. I see 
 how it can be managed — only I must get 
 Curzon, and Brookes, and a few more into it. 
 You know we have another day yet — day 
 after to-morrow; and there is the Ladies' 
 Plate, not yet filled up. I will go in for it, 
 and persuade the other fellows, with the 
 understanding that the winner spends the 
 prize in giving a ball — don't you think it a 
 glorious scheme ? " 
 
 " Yes, excellent ! — if you can carry it 
 through." 
 
 "Oh, I don't doubt that. We have plenty 
 of dancing men, and they are sure to enter 
 for the Ladies' Plate."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 73 
 
 " Yet it has remained unfilled up till 
 now — you must have made an injudicious 
 choice of a name." 
 
 '^ Oh, it was an after-thought, that was 
 the reason — it will be filled quickly enough 
 now, never fear. Halloo, Curzon ! I want 
 to speak to you." 
 
 Mr. Curzon did not hear, and the impul- 
 sive young man darted after him and Jessie 
 Lyttelton. Beatrice smiled half-sadly at his 
 eagerness, but turned almost immediately 
 to reply gaily to a question of Mr. Carle- 
 ton's. 
 
 The subject of the Ladies' Plate was soon 
 under discussion throughout the whole 
 circle, and Captain Denbigh's enthusiasm 
 seemed contagious. All the girls present 
 declared themselves dying for a dance, and 
 Mr. Carleton offered his wife as chaperon 
 to any number of them. 
 
 No other subject of conversation was in- 
 troduced during the evening, and everyone
 
 74 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 was talking at once, except two or three 
 young ladies, who were sunk in silent medi- 
 tation about their dresses. No one en- 
 quired who had inspired Captain Denbigh 
 with the great idea ; only, Dora Lyttelton 
 said once, apart to Mrs. Carleton, 
 
 "Do look at Miss Clyde ! how superbly 
 indifferent she seems just now, yet I feel 
 sure she is at the bottom of the whole affair 
 — I daresay mamma will have to chaperon 
 her." 
 
 "Mr. Carleton was asking me to offer, 
 but I should think it would be better for 
 her to go with your party, so I shall say 
 nothing about it."
 
 75 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A QUEEN OF HEARTS. 
 
 The following morning an invitation to Mr. 
 and Miss Clyde^ from the winner of the 
 Ladies' Plate, to an evening party on the 
 last day of the races, showed that Captain 
 Denbigh had gained his point. Who was 
 to be the actual giver of the entertainment, 
 remained, of course, in uncertainty until the 
 winning of the race. 
 
 "Well, Beatrice," said Mr. Clyde, after 
 his daughter had given the note into his 
 hands, " and do you wish to go ? " 
 
 *' I almost promised I would, papa, and I
 
 76 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 did not imagine you would have any 
 objection." 
 
 " Only that I know very little of these 
 officers, who, I suppose, have got up the 
 affair, and it seems to me a foolish way of 
 having a ball. If they had started a sub- 
 scription ball, I would have joined in it for 
 you with pleasure." 
 
 "But this is not a regular ball, papa; 
 don't you see, it is called an evening party, 
 and it is not to include all Railton — only 
 the set who attended the races. A subscrip- 
 tion ball would require far more time and 
 fuss, and is a sort of thing which cannot, I 
 believe, be managed in Railton." 
 
 " I would much rather it had been a 
 regular ball," said Mr. Clyde ; " if this is a 
 sort of private party, it involves more future 
 intimacy with these officers than I should 
 altogether like." 
 
 "Dear papa, don't trouble yourself on 
 that score," said Beatrice, lightly, "I will
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 77 
 
 do all the entertaining part. Come, you 
 must not refuse your consent ; I have set 
 my heart on going to this affair." 
 
 *' It is new for you to be so eager about 
 pleasure, Beatrice." 
 
 "Is it? Well, I have tried doing with- 
 out it long enough. I must have a change. 
 Papa, surely you cannot refuse me any little 
 enjo3anent that may make my life tolerable; 
 you know there is little enough in store for 
 me.'' 
 
 " Beatrice ! " Mr. Clyde's tone was plead- 
 ing, and a look of pain passed across his 
 face, and contracted his high, polished, 
 somewhat receding brow. Beatrice's man- 
 ner altered suddenly ; she went up to her 
 father, kissed him, and said, in a half-fond- 
 ling, half-coaxing tone, 
 
 "Dear papa, don't mind my words. 
 Only be good, and let me have my 
 little pleasure." 
 
 " You always have your way, child," and
 
 78 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Mr. Clyde half-playfuUy pushed her from 
 him ; "go and write what you like. But 
 don't ask me to go with you." 
 
 " Mrs. Lyttelton will chaperon me," said 
 Beatrice; "thanks, dear papa," and she 
 glided quickly from the room. 
 
 An hour or two later she was seated in 
 the breakfast-room at the Laurels, using all 
 her eloquence to persuade Mrs. Constable 
 that Amy was not too young to go to the 
 ball, and that Mrs. Lyttelton would be 
 delighted to take her. 
 
 Amy was intensely anxious to go, and 
 intensely devoted to Beatrice for wishing 
 her to go. Between the two, Mrs. Con- 
 stable's opposition was vanquished. 
 
 " I only wish Lionel were at home," said 
 Amy, when consent had been gained; "I 
 know he would have enjoyed this ball, and 
 I am sure he would have liked dancing with 
 you. Miss Clyde; and you know, this is your 
 ball — at least, we all consider it so."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 79 
 
 " You all consider it so ! I am sure I 
 don't know why you should. I have 
 nothing to do with it." 
 
 "Well, everyone says Captain Denbigh 
 proposed it, and that he never would have 
 proposed it but for you." 
 
 " I assure you, I never suggested anything 
 of the kind." 
 
 " Amy, you should not say such things,'' 
 said Mrs. Constable; "Miss Clyde ^vill not 
 like them. You young girls are always 
 imagining everything must have some 
 absurd cause, quite wide of the mark, gene- 
 rally. Captain Denbigh no doubt meant to 
 please Miss Clyde as well as the other 
 young ladies. She would not wisli him 
 to give a ball on her account alone, I 
 am sure." 
 
 " I don't care who gives the ball, or why 
 it is given, provided I go," said Beatrice, 
 "and I dare say one dance will give rise to 
 another, and we shall go on now till Christ-
 
 80 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 mas. Really, this place would be very dull 
 without some intervals of gaiety.'' 
 
 "You have been accustomed, perhaps, to 
 a gay life, my dear ? " said Mrs. Constable. 
 
 "No, I have not; but near London one 
 can always find excitements, by going up to 
 hear music, see paintings, and so on. I 
 suppose I miss them now, and so am ready 
 to throw myself into what I can get." 
 
 " I did not suppose you were a person to 
 live on excitement." 
 
 " Did you not ? Well, I did not think so 
 myself till lately. Perhaps the fury will 
 wear itself out, and I shall settle down as 
 peaceful and contented as you, Mrs. Con- 
 stable. Oh, dear, I do envy you ! " Bea- 
 trice threw herself on a low stool at Mrs. 
 Constable's feet as she spoke, and took up 
 the end of a piece of knitting that was on 
 the table. " Tf I could absorb myself in a 
 piece of work like this, or take a warm 
 interest in the fate of Simon Johnson's sick
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 81 
 
 COW — it ivas a cow, was it not ? — how de- 
 lightful it must be ! " 
 
 " My life was not always so peaceful as it 
 now seems, nor are my thoughts always so 
 easily employed," said Mrs. Constable; "but 
 T cannot wish you any harm in wishing that, 
 after the storms of your life are over, you 
 may feel as calm as I do. But you should 
 not wish it yet ; with the storms you will 
 have, no doubt, delicious joys, beyond any 
 that I can ever have again." 
 
 *' Shall I ? " said Beatrice ; " are there not 
 some whose lives are all storm — or all gloom, 
 which is worse ? Perhaps mine may be one 
 of them. Not that I feel at all doleful at 
 present," she added, springing up, and with 
 a sudden change of manner, " I am inclined 
 to seize all the pleasure I can ; for, ^ Ah ! it 
 is not always May ! ' " 
 
 She ran to the piano and sang the whole 
 of the song, which was a favourite with her, 
 then apologized to Mrs. Constable for infiict- 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 IMEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 ing it upon her ; and being assured that the 
 infliction was most agreeable, she went on 
 singing song after song, mostly of a wildly- 
 joyous nature, half the morning, until at 
 length Amy enticed her away up-stairs, to 
 give an opinion upon the all-important sub- 
 ject of her dress. 
 
 Beatrice was quite at home at the Laurels 
 now, and frequently spent an hour or two 
 with Amy and her mother. She was always 
 welcome, for her somewhat uncertain spirits 
 and variable manner only increased the in- 
 terest she had awakened in their minds. 
 Mrs. Constable often saw something to con. 
 demn, but could always be won by the 
 charm of Beatrice's manner, when she chose 
 to exert it ; and Amy, though not daring to 
 look upon Miss Clyde as a friend, could 
 scarcely, in her humble adoration, find a 
 fault in her. 
 
 The races the following day were more 
 brilliantly attended than they had been on
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 83 
 
 the preceding one. The Ladies' Plate gave 
 additional excitement to the proceedings, 
 and the bets in gloves rose to a considerable 
 number. Beatrice, greatly to Captain Den- 
 bigh's delight, backed him again, and many- 
 others followed her example, out of grati- 
 tude to him for his suo^o-estion about the 
 ball. He was of course more eager and 
 excited than ever, but his experience had 
 taught him some wisdom, for he rode much 
 better than on the day before. He won the 
 prize, and there were few who grudged it 
 to him. 
 
 " Denbigh ought to die now," whispered 
 Colonel Morley to Mrs. Carleton, who was 
 near him, as the winner, flushed with plea- 
 sure and gratified vanity, made his way up 
 to Beatrice. " This is the proudest moment 
 of his life: he has won the Ladies' Plate, 
 just the kind of plate he would care to win; 
 and he knows Miss Clyde backed him, and 
 that he has not disappointed her. Above 
 
 G 2
 
 84 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 all, he will give the ball to-night, which, 
 whatever people may say, is entirely in her 
 honour ; and he feels a right to ask her for 
 an almost unlimited number of dances. At 
 this moment he is asking her, I have no 
 doubt, for three waltzes, two galops, and a 
 polka." 
 
 "Do you really think the ball is on her 
 account?" said Mrs. Carleton; "I am sure 
 she ought not to have allowed such a 
 thing." 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Carleton, where is the 
 harm ? Miss Clyde likes a dance, probably, 
 and if she can urge on a young spooney to 
 get one up, what does it signify ? She goes, 
 gives him as many dances as she thinks fit, 
 and there is an end of the matter. If he 
 expects anything more, it is his own 
 fault." 
 
 " Well, I certainly do consider her man- 
 ner Tvith Captain Denbigh very flirting, 
 though Mr. Carleton declares there is no-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 85 
 
 thing in it. I saw her to-day, when Captain 
 Denbigh first came on the grand-stand, give 
 him her hand over her shoulder. I call 
 that very flirting, unless done to an intimate 
 friend." 
 
 " I don't understand what you mean." 
 
 "Well, don't you see — instead of turn- 
 ing round to shake hands with him, as he 
 could not get in front of her, she held her 
 hand over her shoulder, and let him shake 
 it in that way. I call such a thing very 
 familiar ; but perhaps you do not understand 
 — at least you pretend not." 
 
 "I should in a moment, if you would 
 give me an illustration." 
 
 " Now, Colonel Morley, don't be so ridicu- 
 lous ; I will never tell you anything again, 
 if you go on so. Do you know where 
 Edmund is?" 
 
 " No ; but I will look for him if you wish 
 it. Oh ! there he is, just coming up to speak 
 to Miss Clyde — congratulating her on her
 
 86 MEASURE FOR MEAStlRE. 
 
 winnings, I am positive, from Denbigh's 
 expression. Poor fellow ! his happy look at 
 being in some sort allied to Miss Clyde, 
 makes one feel half melancholy. Well, shall 
 I tell Mr. Carleton you want him ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; he will come presently, I dare- 
 say," said Mrs. Carleton, rising. '' I should 
 like to walk to the other end, Colonel Morley, 
 if you will take me; I think I see Mrs. 
 Kendall." 
 
 The opinion that the ball movement had 
 originated with Miss Clyde, was almost uni- 
 versal, and when she entered the Assembly 
 Rooms in the evening no one was surprised 
 to see her immediately seized upon by Cap- 
 tain Denbigh, and, in fact, appropriated by 
 him for the greater part of the night. That 
 she was the belle of the room was un- 
 doubted, although perhaps one or two of 
 more beauty were present. She was looking 
 her best, and her spirits were at their 
 highest.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 87 
 
 She danced, and talked, and laughed, and 
 though too well-bred to be noisy, there was 
 certainly in her demeanour something which 
 fastidious observers would have pronounced 
 too vivacious. She could not have been 
 called "fast," but she was not exactly quiet 
 enough for the ideal of an English lady. 
 
 The gentlemen were unanimous in her 
 praise; those of her own sex were more 
 guarded. Mrs. Lyttelton, kind as she was, 
 was induced to say, fwhen cross-questioned 
 by Mrs. Carleton, that she should not quite 
 like to see Helen or Dora imitate Miss Clyde. 
 As for Jessie, she was giddy enough without 
 any encouragement or example, but in such 
 a mere girl giddiness was more tolerable. 
 Mrs. Carleton, though condemning Beatrice 
 with anyone who would listen to her, or join 
 in her opinions, was very gracious indeed 
 to herself; she invited her to spend a day 
 at Railton shortly, and offered to make up 
 a party to explore the Cathedral thoroughly,
 
 88 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 and to see the view from the top. Beatrice, 
 however, suspected the latter suggestion to 
 have originated with Mr. Carleton, as he, 
 during a quadrille they had sat out together, 
 had been praising the said view, and wishing 
 to hear her impressions of it. She accepted 
 the invitation — it was her present impulse 
 to go everywhere, to see everything, to know 
 everybody — and she accompanied her ac- 
 ceptance with such charming smiles, entered 
 so sweetly into small-talk with Mrs. Carleton, 
 that she could not fail to remove, in some 
 degree, the bad impression she had previously 
 given. 
 
 The ball came to an end, and Beatrice 
 went home, with full food for her vanity, if 
 she chose to indulge it. Probably she was, 
 in some measure, gratified with the sensa- 
 tion she had caused, for she gave a rap- 
 turous account of her amusements to her 
 mother, the next morning, and showed an 
 extreme avidity to enter into every scheme
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 89 
 
 of pleasure that was proposed in the neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 And the impetus having been once given, 
 entertainments of one kind or other fol- 
 lowed in quick succession. In all, Beatrice 
 took a prominent part ; into whatever went 
 on — dancing, games, conversation, — she 
 threw herself with an ardour that made 
 people think her the most impulsive and 
 excitable of mortals; and through all, carried 
 on her flirtation with Captain Denbigh to 
 such a degree that she shocked even more 
 charitable beholders than Mrs. Carleton and 
 Dora Lyttelton. And withal she spared 
 sufficient attention for Fred Lyttelton, and 
 the rest of her male acquaintances, to ally 
 them all on her side ; so that, before two 
 months were over, she was in the not very 
 enviable situation of being admired and 
 popular amongst all the men around her, 
 yet shunned and disliked by most of the 
 women.
 
 90 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " everybody's business." 
 
 The autumn was rapidly closing into 
 winter, when Lionel Constable arrived at 
 his mother's house ; he had not been able 
 to come so early as had been expected, 
 greatly to the disgust of the Lytteltons, 
 who declared, father and sons, that the 
 best of the shooting was over ; but Lionel, 
 with his hearty, genial nature, regretted 
 nothing, so long as he found himself again 
 amongst his old friends A few days after 
 his arrival, he went over to Railton to see 
 the Carletons ; and on entering the house, 
 was ushered into a room, where he found
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 91 
 
 himself face to face with a young lady 
 in a riding habit, whom he had never seen 
 before. He was not long in deciding, that 
 she must be the Miss Clyde of whom he 
 had already heard volumes, from his mother 
 and Amy; and he had scarcely had time 
 to observe her face and figure, when Mrs. 
 Carleton entered, and he was made aware 
 that he had guessed rightly. 
 
 Mrs. Garleton had a book in her hand, 
 which she gave to Beatrice, saying, 
 
 " I can only find this volume now ; I 
 never can understand where Edmund puts 
 his books, but he will be sure to send you 
 the others as soon as he knows you want 
 them." 
 
 " Is not your husband at home ? " asked 
 Mr. Constable. 
 
 " He has gone out shooting, but he will 
 be back before dinner ; and of course you 
 will stay," said Mrs. Carleton, speaking to 
 Lionel with some cordiality.
 
 92 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 He did not refuse, for he and Mr. 
 Carleton were intimate friends, and he 
 had come Avith an idea of remaining the 
 whole day. 
 
 "We have been very gay lately," re- 
 sumed Mrs. Carleton — " quite a change in 
 our quiet neighbourhood ! " 
 
 " So I hear; have I come too late for the 
 gaiety ? " 
 
 "You must ask Miss Clyde ; she is the 
 authority in such matters, I heard the other 
 day." 
 
 A slio^ht tino^e of colour flushed Beatrice's 
 cheek as she said, 
 
 " I don't know more than other people, 
 but as I join in any amusement that is ever 
 planned, I suppose I have gained the repu- 
 tation of being an authority. I can only 
 say that I hope Mr. Constable is not too 
 late, for I should be very sorry if we were 
 to sink into dulness at this time of year." 
 
 " Ah ! you are so untiring," said Mrs.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 93 
 
 Carleton; "I daresay if I had your strength 
 and spirits, I should enjoy myself too, but 
 I get so tired — I have told Edmund I will 
 not go to any more parties, he may go by 
 himself if he likes." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Carleton, but you will come 
 to the charades at Wynthorpe House. Mr. 
 Carleton half-promised you would act." 
 
 " I shall certainly not do that, my dear 
 Miss Clyde; I should never screw up my 
 courage to it. People ought to have a 
 great deal of confidence to act; but I should 
 like to see you all, very much." 
 
 " Acting does not require so much 
 courage as you may fancy," said Beatrice. 
 '' They are only charades, you know ; and 
 we are all inexperienced actors, so you would 
 be like the rest." 
 
 " I thought Captain Denbigh was a 
 famous performer." 
 
 ''He has acted before, I believe; but I am 
 rather like Colonel Morley, not inclined to
 
 94 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 put much faith in what he can do, before I 
 have seen him." 
 
 " And when are these charades to take 
 place ? " asked Lionel. 
 
 "Has not your sister told you yet? I 
 thought she was so imbued with the acting 
 spirit, she could talk of nothing else." 
 
 " I have heard something certainly ; but 
 I don't know the exact day." 
 
 " And I have forgotten it ; but you will 
 soon know, no doubt, and receive an invi- 
 tation and play-bill in due form — unless, 
 indeed, you are first asked to act, which is 
 not improbable." 
 
 " Are not all the parts filled up ? " 
 
 "No; in one of the charades we have a 
 — oh ! I forgot ; I must not betray any- 
 thing to the uninitiated. You will be sure 
 to hear in time, if you are wanted." 
 
 " Mr. Clyde is at the door, and wishes to 
 know if Miss Clyde is ready," said a servant 
 entering the room.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 95 
 
 Beatrice rose at once, and hurriedly took 
 leave of Mrs. Carleton, turning to bow to 
 Lionel ; but he left the room with her, say- 
 ing, 
 
 " I suppose your horse is waiting," and 
 conducted her to the door. Outside they 
 found Mr. Clyde on horseback, and a groom 
 holding Miss Clyde's horse. 
 
 Lionel helped her to mount, was re- 
 warded with a gracious smile and a merry 
 good-bye, and then saw the father and 
 daughter ride off together. Not being in- 
 clined for a prolonged tete-a-tete with Mrs. 
 Carleton, he announced to her that he had 
 .some business in the town, and should stroll 
 about ; and thus he whiled away the hours, 
 till it was nearly time to expect Mr. Carle- 
 ton from shooting. The meeting between 
 the two gentlemen was very cordial ; they 
 had many tastes and opinions in common, 
 and their conversation throughout dinner, 
 and the time they were alone together after-
 
 96 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 wards, never flagged, or needed the stimu- 
 lus of local gossip. 
 
 But when they joined Mrs. Carleton, she, 
 as if to indemnify herself for her forbear- 
 ance at dinner, in not interrupting them on 
 subjects which were out of her line, con- 
 trived to draw Mr. Constable into a flood of 
 reminiscences, and then to give him a variety 
 of information about the doings of his ac- 
 quaintances in the Railton neighbourhood 
 since he had seen them. 
 
 " Edmund, Mr. Constable saw your 
 favourite, Miss Clyde, this morning; she 
 came for some books you had promised her, 
 but I could only find one of them." 
 
 "Ah ! what do you think of her, Lionel?" 
 
 " She is a handsome girl, and looks as if 
 she had a good deal in her ; I had heard a 
 full report of her before, and had no diffi- 
 culty in guessing who she was." 
 
 ^* You heard she was an atrocious flirt, 
 I suppose," said Mrs. Carleton; "I am glad
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 97 
 
 your mother sees that at last. She and 
 Amy were quite fascinated by Miss 
 Clyde." 
 
 " I did not hear anything so very bad of 
 her; only that she and Captain Denbigh 
 were a good deal together. I suppose that 
 is symptomatic of matrimony — nothing 
 worse." 
 
 "No, no!" said Mr. Carleton, decidedly; 
 "Miss Clyde will never throw herself away 
 on Denbigh, though he is a nice, gentle- 
 manly fellow." 
 
 " There now I and yet you stand up for , 
 Miss Clyde," said Mrs. Carleton, in a half- 
 triumphant tone. " You don't think she 
 means to have the man — you know how 
 she goes on — and yet you persist in saying 
 she is no flirt ! I say she is a most danger- 
 ous woman, inveigling young men, till 
 they—'' 
 
 "Break their hearts? No, no, Denbigh 
 will be no worse for having liked her, if he 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 9.8 IMEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 does like her — and probably lie does not 
 tbink more seriously tban sbe does." 
 
 " Only fancy, Mr. Constable — riding 
 together constantly as they do ! I wonder 
 Mr. Clyde allows it. What would you say 
 if your sister were to do so ? " 
 
 " Is it anybody's business if a gentleman should choose 
 To ride with a lady, and the lady don't refuse?" 
 
 "What absurd lines are you quoting? 
 I'm sure I don't believe in them ! " 
 
 " Instead of being absurd, they are most 
 wise, I think; I wish I could remember the 
 whole, but if I can find them I will send 
 them to you : they are on ' Everybody's 
 Business.' " 
 
 "You had better send them to Miss 
 Clyde ; she would be more likely to appre- 
 ciate them. I see you are going to be just 
 as bad as the rest — quite wrapped up in 
 her." 
 
 " I have not had the opportunity, you
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 99 
 
 know, of seeing her flirting propensities; 
 till I have, I cannot condemn her." 
 
 "But Edmund does see, and yet stands 
 up for her." 
 
 " No, not quite,'' said Mr. Carleton ; " I 
 only mean to say that she is not a syste- 
 matic flirt, or a heartless one ; she has wild 
 spirits at times, which carry her beyond 
 what you women think correct, and she 
 says and does things which you would be 
 afraid to think— but she is as pure, high- 
 hearted a woman as breathes in this world — 
 I would stake my life upon it." 
 
 '' Really, you fly off* into such raptures, 
 there is no understanding you — do, Mr. 
 Constable, find another subject of conversa- 
 tion. I am quite sick of Miss Clyde and 
 her doings. You are tolerably sensible as 
 yet." 
 
 " I suppose I shall fall under the glamour 
 presently, so I may as well talk of some- 
 thing else whilst I have the power." 
 
 h2
 
 100 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " If you do fall under it, you will never 
 Ciist it oif," said Mr. Carleton; "you are not 
 like poor Denbigh, who will doubtless find 
 another Miss Clyde at his next country 
 quarters." 
 
 " The conversation is growing personal," 
 said Lionel. " What do you say, Mrs. Carle- 
 ton, to a game at backgammon, as a little 
 relief? You used to beat me famously, I 
 know." 
 
 When Lionel Constable returned home 
 that evening, he found his sister full of in- 
 formation about the projected charades. 
 The Lvtteltons had been over durino^ the 
 day, with a request that Lionel would take 
 a vacant part ; and little Amy, anxious to 
 draw him into the vortex of acting in 
 which the youths and maidens of Wynthorpe 
 were whirling, had almost promised his 
 consent, 
 
 Lionel was nothing loth ; he was fond of 
 society in nearly any form, and liked any-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 101 
 
 thing whicli had a tendency to draw people 
 together. He was not superior either to 
 the fascination which an exercise of the 
 power of acting possesses for most persons; 
 and after one or two meetings at Wyn- 
 thorpe House, he became almost as earnest 
 over the business as Captain Denbigh him- 
 self. 
 
 Beatrice Clyde was, of course, an import- 
 ant person in all the consultations that went 
 forward. The Lytteltons, with meek humi- 
 lity, gave way to her and Captain Denbigh 
 in most things, not, however, without an 
 occasional sneer on the part of Dora. 
 Lionel soon found himself watching Miss 
 Clyde's behaviour, and becoming puzzled 
 thereby ; the observations of the Carletons 
 had roused his curiosity, and he was, besides, 
 an admirer of pretty women, and anxious 
 to think well of them when it was possible. 
 
 One evening, when the noise and laugh- 
 ter had been greater that usual, Beatrice,
 
 102 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 with an appearance of extreme weariness, 
 withdrew somewhat from the general circle, 
 and suffered several important discussions to 
 go on, without offering a single suggestion. 
 She was sitting at one end of the long, 
 empty room, which was the scene of the re- 
 hearsals, and was to be that of the future 
 performance, when Lionel Constable walked 
 up to her, and, finding that Captain Denbigh 
 was fully engrossed with some consultation 
 about his own costume, endeavoured to en- 
 gage her in conversation. 
 
 He had never yet had a tete-a-tete with her, 
 and he was rather anxious to try the ex- 
 periment. He could not help observing 
 that, as he approached, Beatrice crushed be- 
 tween her fingers a piece of paper, and then 
 thrust it into the pocket of her dress. That 
 it was no fragment of stage directions or 
 description of costume — such bits of paper 
 were flying about continually, so it might 
 have been something of the kind — was evi-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 103 
 
 dent to him from the strange expression of 
 her eyes as she raised them to him. 
 
 They had a wild, defiant glance, changing 
 instantly into a frightened look, as of some 
 hunted animal run to bay. But she did not 
 seem displeased when she saw who ap- 
 proached. 
 
 Lionel sat down on the bench near her, 
 but did not speak immediately. When he 
 did he merely gave utterance to a common- 
 place observation. 
 
 "What a Babel it is! Surely of all 
 things that ever were invented for making 
 people show their characters, amateur act- 
 ing is the best." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " said Beatrice, rather 
 absently. 
 
 '' Yes ; I am sure I feel that I have been 
 displaying all my little vanities in the most 
 egregious manner — and as for Carle ton, I 
 never knew before that he was vain of his 
 legs : and now I see he must be, for nothing
 
 104 \ MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 else could have induced him to appear in 
 the character of Jeames de la Pluche. He 
 has not an idea what to say in the situation, 
 and owned to me as much. And as for 
 Denbigh and the rest — but doubtless you 
 have observed for yourself? " 
 
 " And are we women exempt from these 
 weaknesses ? " 
 
 "You ! I dare not pretend to dissect all 
 your motives ; it is enough that you choose 
 certain parts. We quite submit to your 
 judgment — you know, of course, intuitively 
 in which you appear to most advantage." 
 
 " What a great deal of trouble we give 
 ourselves ! " said Beatrice, rather following 
 the course of her own thoughts than an- 
 swering Mr. Constable's observation ; " and 
 yet when it is over I daresay I shall be 
 sorry, and wish for something else." 
 
 " Such is life ! " said Lionel, mth mock- 
 tragic air. 
 
 " Not to everyone, I trust," said Beatrice,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 105 
 
 with more earnestness than she had hitherto 
 shown ; " men who have work to do in the 
 world, and who can carve out a fate for 
 themselves, need not be dependent upon 
 paltry excitements for the interest of their 
 Hves." 
 
 ^' But who can carve out a fate for him- 
 self? The most a man can do is to bend 
 his fate to his will, and women can do that 
 as well as men. But what folly it is to talk 
 about fate at all ! I am sure you do not 
 believe in such a thing. We bring our- 
 selves into difficulties through our own 
 faults, rashness, or stupidity, and then we 
 blame fate. It is true, when once we have 
 brought ourselves into difficult circum- 
 stances, it is almost impossible to escape 
 from them. Then we can only conform 
 ourselves to them as best we may." 
 
 " Fate or circumstance ! Call it what 
 you please, it does not alter the hardness, 
 the bitterness of the position," said Beatrice,
 
 106 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 rising as she spoke, and moving towards 
 the window, near which she was sitting. 
 
 There were no shutters, and she looked 
 out into the dark night ; her hands were 
 firmly clenched, and one of her feet beat a 
 rapid tattoo on the ground. It appeared as 
 if some physical exertion were absolutely 
 necessary to prevent her inner excitement 
 breaking forth in wild words. 
 
 Lionel Constable looked at her in wonder ; 
 he had not believed that anything in the 
 few sentences they had exchanged could 
 have produced such agitation — and that 
 Beatrice was agitated, was manifest. The 
 voice of Captain Denbigh, who was coming 
 towards the end of the room, calling 
 out, 
 
 " Miss Clyde ! Miss Clyde ! we cannot do 
 without you ! " only added to her ex- 
 citement. 
 
 " I cannot I I cannot ! " she exclaimed, 
 turning to Lionel. " Say I am tired — ill —
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 107 
 
 anything!" And, opening a side-door, she 
 glided from the room. 
 
 Lionel, appealed to in such a manner, 
 was not likely to fail her, and rapidly con- 
 cocted some excuse, which satisfied Captain 
 Denbigh for the moment. He was too 
 much occupied with the business in hand 
 to interrupt it by anxieties even for Bea- 
 trice, and he returned to the group he had 
 left. 
 
 Lionel remained near the window, won- 
 dering whether Beatrice intended to return. 
 The room they were in was partly detached 
 from the house — at least it was only con- 
 nected with it by a covered passage. The 
 door by which Beatrice had gone out, led, 
 not into this passage, but into a sort of 
 lumber-room, which opened upon a side- 
 court leading into the grounds. There was 
 no way of reaching the main part of the 
 house except by making a considerable cir- 
 cuit, and ii was not likely that, on a cold
 
 108 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 night, and thinly clad, Miss Clyde would 
 choose to go into the open air. Still some 
 time passed and she did not return, and 
 Lionel, fancying that she might be really 
 ill, resolved, at the risk of seeming imperti- 
 nent, to go in search of her. She was not 
 in the lumber-room when he entered it, and 
 a cold blast of air made him aware that the 
 outer door was open. 
 
 "What a strange creature she is!" he said 
 to himself; "what a freak, to rush out on a 
 cold night like this! However, as I have 
 come so far, I will see what has become of 
 her." And he went to the door and looked 
 out. 
 
 It was starlight, and had she been within 
 a moderate distance he would have been 
 able to see her. But she was not visible ; 
 and concluding, he knew not why, that she 
 had not gone into the house — instead of 
 turnino^ in that direction he went throu^-h 
 the gate which led into the grounds. He
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 109 
 
 entered a long path between rows of beech 
 trees, and had not gone far before he became 
 aware that a light figure was pacmg to and 
 fro along the distant part of the walk. Half 
 angry at her folly, half interested in her 
 behaviour, he hastened his steps until he 
 came up with Beatrice. 
 
 "Why have you followed me, Mr. Con- 
 stable ? " she said, proudly, as soon as she 
 became conscious of his presence. 
 
 " Only because I am afraid you have for- 
 gotten what a cold night it is. It is really 
 enough to freeze you. Do come in — not to 
 the theatre, if you are tired, but into the 
 house." 
 
 " I cannot come yet ; pray go back — and 
 if you mean to be kind, do not let me be 
 missed." 
 
 "I am afraid I cannot help that," said 
 Lionel, with involuntary flattery in his tone. 
 
 Beatrice gave a gesture of extreme impa- 
 tience, and he saw it.
 
 110 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Pardon me, Miss Clyde, I meant no 
 empty nonsense; and do seriously believe 
 that I have only sought you for your good. 
 I see — I cannot help seeing that something 
 has disturbed you. I have no wish to in- 
 quire what it is — I only " 
 
 " I must have freedom," interrupted Bea- 
 trice, impatiently; "it is very hard that, 
 after spending the hours I have done this 
 evening in folly and merriment I am not 
 in the mood for, I may not have a few quiet 
 moments to myself." 
 
 "Have them by all means, but go home 
 first. Don't brave this raw air in that thin 
 dress." 
 
 " I don't feel it— at least, what I feel I 
 like; only the wind is not half stormy 
 enough for me to-night." 
 
 She dashed from him, and walked at her 
 utmost speed to the end of the path, and 
 then back again. Lionel stood still and let 
 her pass him several times. He felt that
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. Ill 
 
 the storm within her must have its way. 
 He half smiled to himself at the chance 
 which had made him a mtness to this 
 singular mood. Was she subject to such? 
 And what caused them? Deep internal 
 grief, unrestrained temper, or incipient 
 madness ? 
 
 He experienced a sensation of satisfaction 
 in the consciousness that it was himself, and 
 not one of the shallow youths who fluttered 
 round her — the cynical Colonel Morley, or 
 even her advocate, Mr. Carleton — who had 
 seen her agitation. 
 
 Without arrogating any superiority to 
 himself, Lionel Constable knew that with 
 him what he saw and what he guessed would 
 remain sacred, and he did not know, he 
 could not be sure, how it might have been 
 with others. 
 
 At length the wild walk ended, and Bea- 
 trice stopped close to Lionel, saying in a 
 tone to which the womanly gentleness had
 
 112 MEASURE FOE MEASURE. 
 
 returned, and which sounded, from the force 
 of contrast, especially winning, 
 
 " You are good to wait for me, Mr. Con- 
 stable, and to bear with my rudeness. Do 
 not think I am usually so excitable and 
 strange ; but it is my peculiarity when any- 
 thing annoys me to vent my feelings in vio- 
 lent exercise, and I am irritable when inter- 
 rupted. I suppose it springs from something 
 savage in my nature, and I know it is Avrong 
 to be so ungoverned. I feel bitterly humi- 
 liated that you have seen me." 
 
 She stopped abruptly, and gave a shiver 
 as she ceased speaking. Lionel immediately 
 placed her arm within his, and almost 
 dragged her on towards the house. The 
 reaction of excitement made her now acutely 
 sensitive to the keen wind, and she half 
 clung to him in her shuddering. He soothed 
 her gently as he might have done a child, 
 and ^vrapped closely round her the thin 
 mantle which had fallen from her shoulders.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 113 
 
 Laughing at herself for her folly, entreating 
 him to have mercy upon her, and not drag 
 her on so fast, she suffered him to lead her 
 to the house. 
 
 The door of one of the rooms opening 
 into the hall was ajar, displaying within a 
 blazing fire, and into this room Lionel, with- 
 out pausing to think, conducted Beatrice. 
 It was a small study, untenanted at present, 
 though an arm-chair by the fire, and a 
 newspaper on the table, seemed to indicate 
 that some one had only lately quitted it. 
 Beatrice threw herself into the arm-chair, 
 which Lionel wheeled yet closer to the fire, 
 and began to warm her chilled feet and 
 hands. As she did so, the oddity of the 
 situation suddenly struck her, and she 
 looked up at Lionel, somewhat inclined to 
 laugh. But the sight of his face, as he 
 stood, gravely regarding her, leaning against 
 the mantel-piece, changed her sense of the 
 ludicrous into one of shame, at having be- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 114 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 trayed so much emotion before him ; and 
 she remained, for a moment or two, inca- 
 pable of speech. For the first time, she 
 noticed minutely, though almost uncon- 
 sciously, Lionel's personal appearance ; and 
 the conviction that he was a young and 
 handsome man forced itself, rather unpleas- 
 antly, upon her ; . had he been a grim old 
 bachelor, or a stout, comfortable Pater 
 Familias, she could better have borne the 
 knowledge that he had seen her under the 
 dominion of resistless passion. 
 
 Lionel Constable was very tall ; certainly 
 not less than six feet two, and his frame 
 was strong in proportion. His head rose 
 nobly above a neck that, firm and well- 
 defined, sprang freely from his shoulders. 
 A profusion of short, crisp, light-chestnut 
 curls covered the magnificently - formed 
 head, and marked the outline of a broad 
 but not high forehead. The nose, and ge- 
 neral contour of the face, Avere of Grecian
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 115 
 
 type, and the turn of the whiskerless cheeks 
 perfectly classic. But there was none of 
 that severity apparent which frequently 
 accompanies features of this class; an air 
 of geniality and enjoyment was unmistake- 
 able about the mouth, which, though mobile 
 in expression, seemed incapable of anything 
 like harshness or coldness ; yet the decision 
 stamped upon the upper part of the face 
 prevented the geniality from ever degene- 
 rating into softness, the enjoyment into 
 coarseness. 
 
 The eyes, of a light, clear blue, were 
 gifted with great variety of expression, from 
 that of the gravest thought to that of the 
 most frolicsome merriment. Gleams of 
 sweet tenderness, also, were not unknown 
 to them, though, from the general character 
 of the face, they would hardly have been 
 expected. 
 
 The fair complexion, and the absence of 
 whisker, gave an appearance of greater 
 
 i2
 
 116 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 youth than Lionel possessed ; for he had in 
 reality reached the maturity of thirty years. 
 
 ^' Mr. Constable," said Beatrice, after a 
 long interval of silence, " I am afraid you 
 are completely shocked with me ; you have 
 not spoken one word to me since we came 
 in." 
 
 " I have not spoken, because I thought 
 the quieter you were the better. And I do 
 not know why I should be shocked. I was 
 sorry to see that something had disturbed 
 you, or made you unhappy, and I thought 
 that the fire-side was a better place for you 
 than the beech avenue. My thoughts about 
 you did not extend further; at least, if they 
 did, they were checked — and such as they 
 were, they could not have offended you." 
 
 " Then you conclude, I suppose, that I 
 have met with some sudden cause of grief ; 
 and if my life goes on as usual, you will be 
 puzzled ?" 
 
 " It will not be my business to make con-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 117 
 
 jectures, as to what lias grieved you; but 
 even if I do make them, it does not follow- 
 that they will be of the kind you imagine. 
 I have not lived thirty years in the world, 
 without knowing that associations, or a few 
 chance words, even a sudden remembrance, 
 may call up storms of passionate feeling 
 quite as strong as a new, present sorrow can 
 rouse. I am content to believe that your 
 disturbance was so caused." 
 
 " Thank you," said Beatrice ; " I will try 
 not to regret that you have seen me for 
 once without the conventional veil in 
 which we all delight to wrap ourselves. 
 Still, it is rather hard for me — I have so 
 prided myself on making my face a mere 
 mask." 
 
 "It is a pity to pride yourself on such a 
 thing as that. There is no charm in what 
 is motionless and impassive ; at least, only 
 the statuesque charm, which is not worth 
 much, in my opinion."
 
 118 MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I was not thinking of tlie charm," said 
 Beatrice ; "I was only thinking of the 
 comfort it would be to hide oneself from all 
 human observation. Scrutiny is seldom less 
 than painful." 
 
 " Then what would become of sympathy ? 
 I thought all women liked that ! " 
 
 " Is there such a thing in the world ? " 
 said Beatrice, bitterly; "or rather, are there 
 not situations in which sympathy is impos- 
 sible, or, if given, unavailing?" 
 
 " Unavailing to cure sorrow entirely, per- 
 haps, or even partially: but surely anything 
 is better than the loneliness of remaining 
 shut up in one's own identity, unknown to 
 any one human creature. And, Miss Clyde, 
 I must say this, you are not a person to 
 shut yourself out from all sympathy ; har- 
 den your face into what mask you will, you 
 will never succeed in persuading the world 
 that you are free from changeful emotions." 
 
 " I did not think you would turn
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 119 
 
 my speech into an excuse for making 
 personal observations," said Beatrice, haugh- 
 tily. 
 
 " I am sorry for having done so. I am 
 in the habit of speaking too much as I think, 
 and those who know me well excuse me. 
 I had forgotten that our acquaintance was 
 of short standing. Let us talk of something 
 more general." 
 
 "It is time for me to join the others," 
 said Beatrice, rising. 
 
 " Stay a moment longer ; you are not fit 
 to go yet. I saw you shiver just now," said 
 Lionel. 
 
 Beatrice sat down again ; she was really 
 shivering and trembling, so that she could 
 scarcely stand. Lionel left her for an 
 instant, and returned with a large plaid, 
 in which he wrapped her. She was so 
 chilled, either from the exposure to the cut- 
 ting wind, or the re-action of feverish ex- 
 citement, that the extra warmth was wel-
 
 120 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 come, and she resigned herself without 
 further opposition to his cares for her. 
 
 "Shall I go for Mrs. Lyttelton?" said 
 Lionel, at length ; "1 begin to be afraid you 
 have caught cold, and you may require 
 more experienced treatment than mine." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ; pray do not ! I shall be 
 ready to go directly. I would rather not 
 let any one know how foolish I have been. 
 I wonder no one has come into the room all 
 this time." 
 
 " Mr. Lyttelton had just left it, I fancy, 
 when we came ; most likely he is in the 
 drawing-room now, with his wife, and the 
 others who are not rehearsing." 
 
 " What will they think has become of us ?" 
 said Beatrice, starting up ; " do go to them, 
 Mr. Constable. Say I am tired, and going 
 home. I will find my way to the drawing- 
 room, and say good night to Mrs. Lyttelton." 
 
 "You look rather too much like a ghost 
 to show yourself to her yet. Forgive me.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 121 
 
 I must make this one personal observa- 
 tion." 
 
 " But do you go back to the others ?" 
 
 *' Presently ; I must see you more like 
 yourself first ; " and Lionel persisted in stay- 
 ing, and drew Beatrice into a conversation, 
 which diverted her attention from her own 
 thoughts. 
 
 He could not help being, as she had been, 
 a little amused at the situation, and at the 
 idea of the astonishment that would be 
 roused if anyone were to come into the 
 room, and find them together ; but he had 
 no desire to shorten the period of their re- 
 maining there. 
 
 Beatrice interested him ; and there alter- 
 nated with her defiant manner an occasional 
 reliance upon his protection, and a confi- 
 dence in him, that were inexpressibly charm- 
 ing to a man of his nature; that would, 
 indeed, have probably been charming to any 
 man. At length, however, seeing that her
 
 122 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 appearance bore no traces of anything un- 
 usual having occurred to her, he acceded to 
 her wish to conclude the interview; and 
 left her, to give the best account he could, 
 to the acting community, of his movements 
 and hers. 
 
 Beatrice lingered in the room a minute or 
 two after he quitted it, trying to collect her 
 thoughts. Then she repaired to the draw- 
 ing-room, where she found Mr. and Mrs. 
 Lyttelton, and Mrs. Carleton, who, with 
 her husband, was staying in the house for a 
 few days. 
 
 They were all sitting near the fire, with 
 their backs to the door, and no one saw 
 Beatrice, till Mrs. Carleton, turning round 
 for an instant, caught sight of her. 
 
 " Dear me, Miss Clyde ! you almost 
 frightened me ; is anything the matter with 
 the theatricals ? " 
 
 " No, nothing ; only I am tired, and wish 
 to go home, if Mrs. Lyttelton will allow
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 123 
 
 me," said Beatrice, advancing into the room 
 with her most dignified air. 
 
 "Of course, my dear, if you wish it. 
 The carriage shall be ordered immediately. 
 Harry, will you ring the bell ? Come and 
 sit by the fire, my dear ; you are looking 
 tired, certainly." 
 
 "It is the first time I ever heard of Miss 
 Clyde's being tired," remarked Mrs. Carle- 
 ton ; " it is to be hoped the weariness will be 
 worn ofi^ before to-morrow night, or I don't 
 know what will become of the charades." 
 
 "Trust me," said Beatrice, lightly, "I 
 shall be quite ready for action to-morrow 
 evening." 
 
 " I am sure it is no wonder you are 
 tired," said Mrs. Lyttelton, sympathisingly ; 
 " no doubt you had one of your long rides 
 this morning, and then all the worry of the 
 dresses and the parts. I am sure, I often 
 wonder my girls are not worn to death." 
 
 " Some people take things so much more
 
 124 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 quietly than others," said Mrs. Carleton ; 
 "there is Miss Dora, for instance, she 
 always seems to me to get through so much, 
 without taking any trouble." 
 
 " You fancy so ! Well, I think Dora 
 does less than any of the others, and yet is 
 always complaining of weariness. No, no ; 
 Dora is a good girl in many ways, but she 
 is quite one of those peoj)le who manage to 
 get what they want done by others." 
 
 Beatrice did not enter into any conversa- 
 tion, and in a few minutes the carriage was 
 announced. She took leave, and Mr. 
 Lyttelton accompanied her into the hall, 
 where, to her surprise, she saw Mr. Con- 
 stable. 
 
 " Mr. Lyttelton, don't come into the 
 cold," he called out, " I will take care of 
 Miss Clyde ;" and Mr. Lyttelton, saying, 
 "Well, well, the young ones must have 
 their day," retreated into the background. 
 
 "I have been telling white lies in your
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 125 
 
 service. Miss Clyde," said Lionel, as he led 
 Beatrice to the carriage ; "at least, I have 
 been telling half-truths. I said, I knew 
 you were in the drawing-room with Mrs. 
 Lyttelton, allowing the inference to be 
 drawn that you had been there ever since 
 you left the rehearsal. I said, also, you 
 were tired, and going home. Captain 
 Denbigh was just then in a fancy-dress, 
 which must not be seen by the eyes of the 
 uninitiated, or I think he would have 
 rushed to the drawing-room to say good 
 night." 
 
 " Thank you for managing so well," said 
 Beatrice. 
 
 She spoke now in a clear, steady tone, 
 and her whole manner was so composed 
 that Lionel could scarcely believe she was 
 the same being he had seen, half-maddened 
 by passionate excitement, an hour before. 
 He handed her into the carriage, bade her 
 a cordial good night, and shook hands with
 
 126 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 her, rather more warmly than was abso- 
 lutely necessary; but he felt as if he and 
 Beatrice Clyde had made a wonderful 
 advance in intimacy during this evening.
 
 127 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh." 
 
 Wynthorpe House was a scene of dire 
 confusion the next day, but when evening 
 arrived the arrangements for the charades 
 were in excellent order. The room, which 
 had been used for lumber, made, when 
 cleared out, an admirable green-room ; and 
 from it an awning had been extended 
 above the walk which led to the house, for 
 the convenience of the performers, who 
 could thus reach their dressing-rooms with- 
 out passing through the theatre. 
 
 When Beatrice Clyde made her appear-
 
 128 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 ance, she was quickly assailed with ques- 
 tions as to the cause of her sudden depar- 
 ture the night before, all which she answered 
 with light carelessness; but when Mr. 
 Constable, in the dress of a Spanish mule- 
 teer, drew near to shake hands with her, 
 she was glad that the eccentricity of his 
 costume gave her an excuse to laugh, and 
 thus conceal the slight awkwardness she 
 felt at meeting him. 
 
 The sight of the green-room was quite a 
 new experience for Beatrice, and it led her, 
 for a time, entirely out of her own peculiar 
 thoughts and affairs. Colonel Morley, who 
 had been appointed prompter and stage- 
 director, was stalking about, with a pot of 
 rouge in his hand^ seizing upon the un- 
 rouged ones with merciless haste, desirous 
 of exercising his artistic genius upon them ; 
 and distributing at intervals bits of paper, 
 on which were written directions for acting 
 and entering on the stage.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 129 
 
 A group of girls were sitting on a sofa, 
 sipping coffee, and revealing to each other 
 their various degrees of nervousness, or cri- 
 ticising the different costumes. A few care- 
 less individuals were studying their parts at 
 the last moment, feeling that they would 
 require immense prompting in order to 
 succeed at all ; others, in full conlidence of 
 their own powers, were marching about, 
 spouting their speeches to anyone who 
 would listen to them. Occasionally some 
 half-frantic individual would rush in with 
 his toilet only partially completed, declar- 
 ing that some portion of it had been for- 
 gotten, or would not fit. 
 
 Captain Denbigh, who was to appear in 
 the first charade as a French courtier of 
 the time of Louis Quatorze, was perfectly 
 radiant : thoroughly delighted with his 
 dress and his part, and only regretting 
 that Beatrice did not act in the same 
 scene. Dora Lyttelton, who was to be 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 a coquettish Marquise, the object of his 
 adoration, was not much to his taste ; but 
 Beatrice had insisted upon her taking the 
 part, thinking that if she herself acted with 
 Captain Denbigh in one love-scene, as she 
 was to do in the last charade, she would 
 have done quite enough in that line. 
 
 The orchestra, a portion of the 121st 
 band, just began tuning up, when it was 
 discovered that Dora's face was innocent of 
 rouge, and an outcry was instantly made 
 for Colonel Morley and his rouge-pot. 
 
 "I will not be rouged!" exclaimed Dora; 
 " I am sure it is not necessary." 
 
 " You will look horrid, then," said Jessie; 
 " you don't know how ghastly those foot- 
 lights will make you." 
 
 " I don't care ; I would rather be ghastly 
 than wear rouge." 
 
 " Don't be silly, Dora." 
 
 " Everyone wears rouge." 
 
 " Look at Mr. Carleton's cheeks."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 131 
 
 These remarks were uttered in different 
 voices, and Colonel Morley declared, in a 
 decisive tone, that it was time to go on, 
 adding, 
 
 *^If you don't consent, Miss Dora, I 
 shall feel compelled to rouge you by force." 
 
 " I quite hate it — really, I don't see the 
 good — " began Dora. 
 
 " I am sure I can understand you, dear," 
 said Mrs. Carleton, who had been admitted 
 behind the scenes, to assist in the prepara- 
 tions ; "I am sure I don't think I could 
 submit to such a thing myself. Still, you 
 see other people don't mind — you must give 
 way." 
 
 "Miss Clyde is not rouged any more 
 than I am," said Dora. 
 
 " Because 1 am not dressed for my part," 
 returned Beatrice; "but I have not the 
 smallest objection to being rouged. Colonel 
 Morley, you may rouge me as soon as you 
 like." 
 
 k2
 
 182 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Colonel Morley needed no further invita- 
 tion, and immediately dabbed two red spots 
 on Beatrice's cheeks. She retreated, how- 
 ever, before any delicate shading or tinting 
 could be accomplished, saying, 
 
 " That will do for the present — I must be 
 perfected afterwards. Now, Miss Dora, you 
 can have no objection, I should think." 
 
 "I shall not let Colonel Morley be the 
 artist," said Dora, with a shocked look. 
 " Mrs. Carleton, if I must be rouged, I shall 
 trust myself to you." 
 
 The business was finished at last, and 
 then the bell rang; the performers took 
 their places on the ^age, and the curtain 
 was raised. 
 
 Beatrice hurried away to dress for the 
 second charade, in which she was to appear 
 as a Spanish donna, and she only returned 
 to the ":reen-room in time to hear that the 
 first performance had passed off with great 
 edat^ and that Captain Denbigh, in particu-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 133 
 
 lar, had distinguished himself. He came up 
 to her for a moment, before she had to go 
 on the stage, but he did not seem quite 
 pleased with what he had done. 
 
 " I could make nothing of Miss Dora 
 Lyttelton," he said; "she looked the part 
 well enough — but I don't know how it was. 
 I am looking forward to our charade as the 
 one of the night." 
 
 Meanwhile, Dora's friends were crowding 
 round her, full of praises. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad it is over," said Dora, 
 throwing herself into an arm-chair. "I 
 assure you I did not know how I felt. Oh, 
 Miss Clyde ! — so you are going on now ! 
 How cool you look ! — I wish I were like 
 you." 
 
 " I don*t think she minds anything," said 
 Mrs. Carleton, when Beatrice had gone; 
 " I never saw so much confidence in any 
 girl in my life." 
 
 " She knows she cannot fail," said Amy
 
 134 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Constable, Avith warmth ; " people who are 
 talented like her need not be nervous." 
 
 " Ah, but many people have talents who 
 cannot show them,^' said Mrs. Carleton ; 
 " for instance, I am sure if I could sing as 
 well as Miss Clyde I should never have the 
 nerve to do it ; and I have known people 
 with superior voices to hers who could 
 never sino; in societv.^' 
 
 "It is a happy thing when people are 
 constituted like Miss Clyde," said Dora; "I 
 don't think she cares in the least what is 
 said of her." 
 
 " I think it would be as well if she cared 
 more," said Mrs. Carleton ; " did you see 
 the way she allowed Colonel Morley to dab 
 her face with rouge." 
 
 " Oh, do come to the side of the stage," 
 interrupted Jessie ; " Miss Clyde and Lionel 
 Constable are acting so well." 
 
 Dora and Mrs. Carleton moved, and the 
 discussion ceased.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 135 
 
 The second charade was applauded even 
 more than the first had been ; but Beatrice 
 had no time to stay and hear comments, as 
 she had to dress for her part in the last 
 charade, in which, unlike the others, the 
 scenes were to be laid in English life of the 
 present day. 
 
 The word was " Ringlet;" and in the first 
 scene, Beatrice, a young lady living w^ith 
 her guardian — represented by Captain 
 Brookes — was to receive clandestinely a 
 ring from her lover, Captain Denbigh. All 
 the performers acted well : Beatrice was 
 coquettish and charming — the guardian 
 cynical and antagonistic — Captain Denbigh 
 dashing and devoted — and even Jeames de 
 la Pluche (Mr. Carleton), an excellent mix- 
 ture of conceit and facetiousness. 
 
 The second scene, "Let," was rather weak 
 in structure, being concerning the letthig of 
 some lodgings, which the guardian wished 
 to take in a country place, remote from the
 
 136 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 lover ; the only point being the manner in 
 which he succumbed to the plausibility of 
 the landlady. 
 
 The whole word was given in a scene in 
 which Captain Denbigh discovered the 
 guardian "mooning" over a small black 
 ringlet, supposed to belong to the landlady, 
 and, by threatening to expose his weakness 
 to the world, succeeded in extorting his 
 consent to the marriage of himself and 
 Beatrice. Beatrice then rushed in, ready 
 to add her powers of persuasion, and the 
 curtain fell on a grand tableau of reconcilia- 
 tion. 
 
 Though the plot of this charade was of 
 the slightest description, yet the acting of 
 Beatrice and Captain Denbigh caused a 
 brilliant success. 
 
 Lionel Constable, who was watching from 
 the side of the stage, was almost provoked 
 with Beatrice for throwing herself ^vith. 
 such gusto into the performance. After the
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 137 
 
 tremendous emotion he felt sure she had 
 experienced the preceding night, it seemed 
 to him incredible that she could now appear 
 so light-hearted and careless — so indifferent 
 to anything but mere amusement. 
 
 " She must be a consummate actress off 
 the stage, as well as on it," he mentally 
 ejaculated, as he was listening to the 
 encomiums Mr. Carleton was lavishing on 
 Beatrice. 
 
 The green-room was now full of merri- 
 ment ; all fears and uncertainties were over, 
 and the performers were allowed to refresh 
 themselves with champagne, which, until 
 now. Colonel Morley had vigorously denied 
 them. They were to join the audience 
 presently at supper, and there was to be 
 some dancing afterwards ; but they all 
 enjoyed lingering for a few moments, 
 amidst the relics of their labours, talking 
 the half- theatrical jargon which had be- 
 come familiar to them during the last few
 
 138 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 days. Captain Denbigh, with his face still 
 rouged, and wearing the fast dandyfied cos- 
 tume in which he had enacted his last part, 
 was, of course, busied with Beatrice. 
 
 Lionel Constable, who was talking to Mrs. 
 Carleton, could not help watching them, as 
 they stood near a cheval-glass, before which 
 each performer had paraded in turn. 
 
 *^ Did you see the ring he put on her 
 finger in the first scene ? " asked Mrs. 
 Carleton, looking in the same direction ; 
 ^^it was a splendid emerald one, no mock 
 affair, I can assure you." 
 
 *' Belongs to one of his sisters, perhaps," 
 said Lionel. 
 
 " Fer}ia])s^' said Mrs. Carleton ; " she has 
 not taken it off though. There, did you 
 not see it flash, as she lifted the glass, just 
 now ? " 
 
 Yes ; Lionel had seen it, and he had 
 seen that Captain Denbigh's eyes were 
 upon it also. At this moment Mr. Carleton
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 139 
 
 approached, to speak to his wife, and Lionel 
 seized the opportunity of escaping. He 
 walked close past Beatrice and Captain 
 Denbigh, and heard Beatrice say, in reply 
 to a low-toned speech of her companion, 
 
 "No, indeed, I cannot hear of such a 
 thing. I could not have believed it of you. 
 Captain Denbigh ; I call this taking advan- 
 tage of the situation, and I would not have 
 acted with you if " 
 
 Lionel did not hear the rest of the sen- 
 tence, and he did not see Beatrice again 
 until they were all seated at supper. It 
 was no business of his, certainly, and yet he 
 could not help wondering whether the scrap 
 of conversation he had heard related in any 
 way to the emerald ring, and he looked 
 rather curiously at her hand, to see if she 
 still wore it. But it was gone, and he ex- 
 perienced a feeling of involuntary satisfac- 
 tion in seeing her without it. Captain 
 Denbigh was sitting by her^ looking a little
 
 140 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 less bright than usual ; but before supper 
 was over he was laughing and talking as 
 much as ever, and he and Beatrice appeared 
 upon the best terms together. 
 
 There was a good deal of speechifying, 
 the healths of the actors and actresses 
 being proposed, and then responded to, so 
 that it was rather late before the party ad- 
 journed to the dancing-room. 
 
 Mr. Clyde went up to Beatrice as she 
 was going off to dance with Captain Den- 
 bigh, and told her he did not wish her to 
 stay late. 
 
 " Oh ! I shall soon be ready, papa ; but I 
 must have a few dances in my own charac- 
 ter, or I shall go away fancying myself still 
 Miss Crinolina de Courcy." 
 
 '-'' I wish you were," whispered Captain 
 Denbigh ; but Beatrice either did not hear, 
 or feigned deafness. 
 
 '^ How beautifully Miss Clyde and Cap- 
 tain Denbigh dance together ; don't you
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 141 
 
 think so, Mr. Constable ? " said Mrs Newton 
 to Lionel, who was standing near her. He 
 was a dancing man, but he had not cared to 
 engage a partner this time. 
 
 ' ' I begyour pardon — yes, certainly they do." 
 
 " Miss Clyde is a young person quite out 
 of the common order," pursued Mrs. New- 
 ton, " at least she strikes us so in this 
 country neighbourhood — so highly accom- 
 plished, and such lively manners ! I never 
 saw any one with higher spirits. I am 
 sure she is to be envied. And have you 
 heard her sing, Mr. Constable? I assure 
 you her voice is quite remarkable, and she 
 has had the best masters, I have no doubt." 
 
 " She sings very well," said Lionel. 
 
 "It is no wonder, I think, she is so much 
 admired," said Mrs. Newton; "some people 
 blame her, I know, but I never listen to 
 reports; and if her father does not object — 
 ah! he is coming this way — do you know" 
 him? Mr. Clyde, there is a seat here — I
 
 142 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 assure you it is a very good place for 
 seeing the young people — Mr. Constable 
 and I have been admiring your daughter's 
 dancing, have we not, Mr. Constable? And, 
 Mr. Clyde, I must congratulate you upon 
 Miss Clyde's success — quite a perfect actress! 
 It is wonderful the natural talent some people 
 have, though no doubt cultivation goes a 
 great way. I should not wonder now if, 
 with cultivation. Miss Clyde were to arrive 
 at being a second Mrs. Siddons." 
 
 " She has attempted quite a different 
 line," said Mr. Clyde, smiling; "but I think 
 she did it pretty well;" whilst Lionel could 
 scarcely help laughing outright. 
 
 By this time the dance was over, and 
 Beatrice seeing her father, instead of pro- 
 longing her promenade with Captain Den- 
 bigh, drew up, and sat do^vn. She was 
 soon overpowered by Mrs. Ne^vton's com- 
 pliments, and turned for relief to Mr. Con- 
 stable.
 
 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 143 
 
 " Did you not feel as if we had turned 
 into a veritable corjps dramatique^ and acting 
 had become the business of our lives?" she 
 said to him, after one or two remarks. " I 
 am sure I did, and 1 am glad I went 
 through the experience, as I can realize 
 now so much more vividly how an actress 
 must feel when the decisive moment arrives, 
 the bell rings, and the drop-scene is 
 raised." 
 
 " I cannot say I felt it so acutely as you, 
 but still I am glad I have not missed the 
 charades. The more we can understand 
 how all classes of people feel, the better. 
 Besides, I think we are all far better ac- 
 quainted with each other than we should 
 have been without our rehearsals and little 
 difficulties; and there have been very few of 
 the unpleasantnesses that generally occur 
 when people are very intimately associated 
 together." 
 
 " No, everything has passed off very
 
 144 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 well," said Beatrice, but Lionel thought he 
 saw her colour rather heightened. 
 
 " Will you dance now?" he said, as the 
 music struck up; "I think this is the dance 
 you promised me." 
 
 Beatrice assented, and the two waltzed 
 away together. Lionel danced well, and 
 the music was inspiriting; the favourite 
 '^ First Love" waltz. "What a shame to 
 give such a name to a waltz !" they over- 
 heard a young lady say to her partner as 
 they passed. Lionel looked at Beatrice. 
 "Do you agree with that opinion?" 
 
 " I don't know," said Beatrice, lightly; 
 "perhaps the waltz is as good as the thing." 
 
 She blushed as soon as she had spoken, 
 and Lionel did not immediately reply. 
 When they stopped, he said, 
 
 " The waltz has been delicious, whatever 
 ' First Love' may be; I have never expe- 
 rienced the sensation, but novelists and 
 poets would persuade one that it is ecstatic."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 145 
 
 " I have not much faith in novelists and 
 poets," said Beatrice. 
 
 " Perhaps you do not wish to have." 
 
 " On the contrary, I do. I would ex- 
 change places with the heroine of almost 
 every story I have ever read." 
 
 " What ! with the ' agony piled up' "? 
 
 "If the agony is piled up, there are 
 generally extenuating circumstances, such 
 as don't occur in real life. Actual things 
 are so tedious; day after day comes, and 
 brings no change. But we are wasting the 
 music — I am quite rested." 
 
 Lionel obeyed the hint, though he would 
 have liked to hear Beatrice finish her sen- 
 tence. When the dance was over, they 
 walked into the passage, sauntering about 
 for some time, and then sitting down on 
 one of the couches. Their conversation,, 
 trivial at first, soon grew interesting ; pecu- 
 liarly so to Lionel, from the interest which 
 the manners and character of Beatrice had 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 aroused in him. The dash of bitterness in 
 her views almost irritated him; it was so 
 incongruous with the notion he would 
 otherwise have formed of her nature. 
 
 "There is a quadrille beginning," said 
 Beatrice, at length, ''shall we return to the 
 room?" 
 
 " If you wish it ; perhaps you are going 
 to dance ; otherwise I see no object in join- 
 ing the crush." 
 
 " 1 thought perhaps you had yourself a 
 partner, and might wish to find her," said 
 Beatrice. 
 
 " No ; I prefer sitting out quadrilles — so, 
 if you are not going to dance, shall we 
 stay?" 
 
 Beatrice agreed, saying she seldom danced 
 quadrilles. 
 
 "You are quite right. There are plenty 
 of people who dance nothing else. But 
 perhaps you are cold here : shall I get your 
 cloak?"
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 147 
 
 " No, thank you ; I am quite warm 
 enough," said Beatrice. The allusion to 
 the cold carried back simultaneously her 
 OAvn thoughts and Lionel's to the night 
 before, and there was a short silence. At 
 last Beatrice said, somewhat abruptly, 
 
 " You must be very fond of your sister, 
 Mr. Constable!" 
 
 " I am," said Lionel, with an amused look. 
 " You are thinking my remark very in- 
 consequent," said Beatrice; "and I really 
 don't know why I made it. I think it was 
 because the idea of her open, guileless cha- 
 racter flashed upon me just then. She 
 makes me feel so old and hard, that I can 
 scarcely wish her to like me." 
 
 " I can assure you, Miss Clyde, that both 
 she and my mother like you." 
 
 " Does Mrs. Constable? I am astonished 
 at that. I was afraid I shocked her, and 
 all good motherly people. I am so unlike 
 her favourite, Dora Lyttelton." 
 
 l2
 
 148 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " You would not like to imitate Dora 
 Lyttelton, though, to win any one's favour?" 
 said Lionel. 
 
 " Not being what I am; but I might 
 perhaps wish to exchange with her." 
 
 " You are all for change," said Lionel, 
 with a searching look ; ^' a. short time ago, 
 you wished you could turn yourself into 
 some fictitious heroine, now you are wish- 
 ing to be a common-place young lady." 
 
 '' Perhaps you don't know what it is to 
 be sick and wearied of your own identity, 
 and so cannot comprehend," said Beatrice. 
 "I do, and I feel so imprisoned in myself, 
 I long to change utterly. To leave oneself, 
 even for a few minutes, must be rapture, I 
 think." 
 
 ^' I suppose you only mean one form of 
 dissatisfaction with oneself; every one longs 
 at times to be free from his own faults, his 
 prejudices — even fancies." 
 
 ^' It would not be enough to be free from
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 149 
 
 faults and fancies. There would still be 
 the fetters — the being what we are — what 
 we must be — what we cannot escape from." 
 
 The wild fire in Beatrice's eye, as she 
 spoke, reminded Lionel of her looks on the 
 preceding evening. Perhaps she saw his 
 inquiring gaze fixed upon her, for in an- 
 other moment her tone changed, and she 
 said, 
 
 " I am falling into a habit I detest — 
 talking of my own thoughts and feelings. 
 I suppose it is an indication of a narrow 
 mind and few interests. Tell me something 
 amusing now, as a change." 
 
 " It is impossible to be amusing on de- 
 mand," said Lionel, laughing ; "besides, I 
 am far more inclined to be melancholy to- 
 night, and to meditate on the fleeting 
 nature of human pleasures. I am going 
 away to-morrow evening." 
 
 "Are you? I thought Amy expected 
 you to be at home at Christmas."
 
 150 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 *'I am coming back before then; some 
 unexpected business takes me away now for 
 a short time." 
 
 " Oh, then I don't pity you, as you will 
 not be alone at Christmas. Not that I care 
 much for family gatherings, and anniver- 
 saries are painful things as one grows 
 older." 
 
 " I agree with you ; and some are abso- 
 lutely odious — anniversaries of examin ations, 
 and such like. There is only one custom of 
 keeping particular days that takes my fancy, 
 and that is the German one of gold and 
 silver marriages. It is a charming idea, I 
 think : fancy the old couple wearing once 
 more their bridal crowns, reviewing the 
 long years passed together, and renewing 
 in imagination the joy of their youth." 
 
 "Or the bitterness," said Beatrice, with 
 emphasis. "I can imagine cases in which the 
 bridal crowns would seem made of thorns, 
 even after fifty years had dulled the sen-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 151 
 
 sations, and a still grayness had settled over 
 life." 
 
 "You are pleased to be cynical, Miss 
 Clyde," said Lionel, with some earnestness ; 
 " but I cannot believe you really feel all you 
 say. You see beauty, I am convinced, in 
 the simple trust and abiding love which 
 generated the custom, and you should not 
 let your judgment be warped by some cases 
 of heartlessness and worldliness, which are 
 the result of our over-wrought civilization. 
 To restore your faith in truth and love, you 
 should read a little story of Auerbach's, 
 called 'Mimi und Brosi;' it is a piece of 
 simple, genuine nature." 
 
 " I will read it," said Beatrice, looking up 
 at Lionel's face. His expression, full of 
 ardour and candour, faith in all the world, 
 and in himself, struck her powerfully ; and 
 yet, from some hidden cause, pained her. 
 Swallowing down a sigh, she dashed quickly 
 into another subject.
 
 152 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 When the quadrilles were over, dancers 
 poured into the passage, and Captain 
 Denbigh, instantly discovering Beatrice, 
 claimed her for the next dance. 
 
 "You must excuse me," she said, "it is 
 getting late, and papa will be wishing to 
 go home. I am just going, like a dutiful 
 daughter, to say I am ready." 
 
 " But this one dance, surely ! Mr. Clyde 
 will not mind ; he is busily engaged in a 
 discussion with Mrs. Newton." 
 
 " Poor papa ! " said Beatrice, laughingly; 
 " then I am sure I ought to go and release 
 him." 
 
 She resisted all attempts at persuasion, 
 accepted the arm Lionel oiFered, and left 
 Captain Denbigh twirling his moustache 
 with a disconsolate air. 
 
 When the Clydes were gone, Lionel 
 Constable remembered that he ought to 
 look after his mother. He fancied the 
 room had suddenly lost much of its bright-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 153 
 
 ness, and that the girls around him were 
 singularly tame and uninteresting. 
 
 Mrs. Constable was sitting in a group of 
 ladies, gently amused at what was going on, 
 and pleased to see Amy enjoying herself, 
 when Lionel approached. She made room 
 for him near her, and asked him what he 
 had been doing ; she had not seen him 
 dancing lately. 
 
 " Mr. Constable has grown idle," said a 
 soft voice, near ; it was that of Dora Lytt el- 
 ton. " I think he prefers sitting in the hall 
 to dancing." 
 
 ^' Not when I am accused of anything so 
 foreign to my nature as idleness," said 
 Lionel, starting up. " Miss Dora Lyttelton, 
 which of the next four dances shall I have 
 the pleasure of dancing with you ?" 
 
 " I am tired," said Dora, coldly ; " this 
 perpetual dancing wears me out." 
 
 " Sit down, Dora, my dear," said Mrs. 
 Constable ; " there is room for you."
 
 154 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Dora sat down for a few minutes, admired 
 Amy's dress — she was just then passing — 
 and exchanged a few observations with 
 mother and son on indifferent subjects. All 
 her remarks were sensible, and given with 
 a tone of deference to her elders, and also 
 with a certain languid softness of manner, 
 that made many people call her interesting. 
 After a short time she rose, saying that 
 she, as a daughter of the house, could not 
 be allowed to remain inactive any longer, 
 and moved away to a cluster of partnerless 
 girls. Her behaviour would have seemed 
 amiable, had it been less tinged with the air 
 of martyrdom ; and that, apparently, was 
 invisible to Mrs. Constable, for she said to 
 Lionel, who dropped into Dora's vacant place, 
 
 " I do think that girl is one of the sweet- 
 est in the world. Though quite cheerful, 
 and ready to amuse any one, she is never 
 frivolous or light. I consider her manners 
 perfect."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 155 
 
 "I dare say they are," said Lionel, absently. 
 
 "What are you thinking of, Lionel? I 
 know in a moment when you are not attend- 
 ing — you have some law case in your 
 head, I suppose ; but remember, this is a 
 holiday." 
 
 "I am not forgetting it, I assure you. 
 What were you saying about Dora Lyttel- 
 ton ? Yes, her figure is certainly rather 
 graceful, and her voice is soft and low." 
 
 " An excellent thing in woman," remarked 
 Colonel Morley, coming up at the moment ; 
 "but perhaps you prefer something more 
 sparkling than the gentle, low-toned crea- 
 tures — Miss Clyde, for instance." 
 
 " Miss Clyde was not at all sparkling 
 when first she came," said Mrs. Constable ; 
 " I never saw any one more grave and 
 gloomy than she was the first evening I met 
 her. She changed quite suddenly." 
 
 " I don't consider her exactly lively now," 
 said Lionel.
 
 156 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " She is fitful — dependent upon moods," 
 said Colonel Morley ; "^ I should not like 
 such a woman for my wife, but Denbigh 
 appears to be of a different opinion. I 
 w^onder what his father would say; how- 
 ever, there is no fear of his being accepted." 
 
 " In that case, Miss Clyde has no business 
 to encourage him as she does," said one of 
 the chaperons near Mrs. Constable. 
 
 "Ah!" said Lionel, laughing, ''I see 
 you, too, Mrs. Baker, require to learn those 
 charming lines on ' Everybody's business : ' 
 
 ' Is it anybody's business what another person's is ?' " 
 
 "That is Lionel's motto, at present, I 
 think," said Mrs. Constable ; " I don't know 
 where he picked up the lines." 
 
 " I suspect they are his own," said Colonel 
 Morley. 
 
 " No, indeed ; I wish they were. And I 
 wish I could repeat the whole, but there is 
 an alliteration in them which is difficult to
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 157 
 
 catch, though it haunts one. I do not even 
 know who the author is, but I respect 
 him as a man of sense, in advance of his 
 age." 
 
 " I wish you would look for Amy, Lionel," 
 said his mother ; *' she has had enough 
 dancing now, and it is quite time to go." 
 
 Lionel obeyed, nothing loth ; and in a 
 few minutes the two departed — and before 
 very long the party broke up.
 
 158 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE END OF THE SHADOWS. 
 
 Beatrice Clyde was sitting alone in the 
 breakfast-room the following day. She had 
 risen late ; her father had breakfasted with- 
 out her and gone out; her mother was 
 absorbed in a book, and she was left to her 
 own devices. There were marks of care 
 and thought on her features this morning, 
 and her occupation, that of writing letters, 
 was apparently distasteful to her. She took 
 from her desk a crumpled piece of paper 
 and pored over it for a considerable time 
 with -firmly-closed lips and knitted brows;
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 159 
 
 then she seized a sheet of paper and began 
 to write, but sheet after sheet was torn up 
 and thrown into the fire before she could 
 frame an epistle to suit her fancy. At 
 length she hurriedly scribbled a few lines, 
 and, without reading them over, placed them 
 in an envelope, whilst the fragment she had 
 studied so long was quickly torn into atoms 
 and consigned to the flames. A kind of 
 fierce pleasure glittered in her eyes as each 
 separate shred turned into a black filmy 
 flake, and drawing a long breath she said 
 low to herself, 
 
 '' There is satisfaction in destruction. I 
 feel now as if, had I the power, I could 
 equal any fiendish woman I have ever read 
 of." 
 
 Then, as if shocked at her passionate out- 
 burst, she drooped her head on her hands, 
 and tears, heavy and soundless, drawn as 
 life-blood from her heart, gathered in her 
 eyes and fell slowly down her cheeks. A
 
 160 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 sound of steps in the hall roused her from 
 her position. She dashed away her tears, 
 returned to the seat she had quitted, placed 
 the letter she had written in her desk, and 
 awaited the opening of the door. 
 
 Captain Denbigh was announced, and he 
 advanced with eager haste to shake hands. 
 Yet his manner was less assured than usual, 
 and he sat for some moments without speak- 
 ing, or, at any rate, only returning vague 
 answers to the stream of light small-talk 
 which Beatrice poured forth in desperation, 
 for she too was not free from nervous- 
 ness. 
 
 "Miss Clyde," said Captain Denbigh at 
 last, without replying to her last question, 
 "all this is of no use. I cannot stand it 
 any longer. I have been delighting day 
 after day in your presence, living on a few 
 kind words and looks. But I cannot do 
 any longer with only this ; last night you 
 made me miserable."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 161 
 
 " Miserable ! I thought you in very good 
 spirits all the evening." 
 
 "Ah, you may scoff! I know I am not 
 one of those sentimental fellows who can 
 mope and sigh, and look martyrs and victims; 
 but though I may go on laughing and dan- 
 cing I can feel as truly as any of them. 
 Miss Clyde, why would you not keep my 
 rmg t 
 
 "Because I do not choose to receive 
 presents from gentlemen," said Beatrice, 
 proudly. 
 
 "But from me it was not an ordinary 
 present. Ah, Miss Clyde, that scene of the 
 ring was no acting with me. When I placed 
 it on your finger, I did it with the most 
 entire and devoted love a man can feel, and 
 I trusted — I hoped you understood me, and 
 would allow it to stay there." 
 
 " I don't know what could give you such 
 an idea. Captain Denbigh ; you must have 
 strangely misinterpreted the pleasure I al- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 162 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 lowed myself to feel in your society." 
 
 "You did take some pleasure, then? " he 
 asked, eagerly. 
 
 " I liked you as a companion, and we 
 agreed on most light, surface matters. I 
 never intended our intercourse to go deeper, 
 feeling sure our sympathies did not." 
 
 " But you cannot be quite sure ! I know 
 T seem a wild, careless fellow, Miss Clyde, 
 but I have more in me than you see." 
 
 Beatrice smiled. 
 
 " Don't laugh at me, I beg ; this is terrible 
 earnest with me," he went on. " My words 
 sound conceited, perhaps. I cannot say 
 what I mean ; but, Miss Clyde, you may 
 believe me, all that is best and deepest in 
 you would find an answering echo in my 
 heart. Do not cast me oif because in outer 
 things I seem frivolous and w^eak. If you 
 could resolve ever to be my wife," Captain 
 Denbigh's voice sank low with repressed 
 feeling, and the sound smote Beatrice's con-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 163 
 
 science to the quick, "you might do any- 
 thing you liked with me, and the truest, 
 sincerest love should prove my gratitude." 
 
 "Captain Denbigh,' said Beatrice, in a 
 tone of greater seriousness and gentleness 
 than she had yet employed, "it is no use 
 prolonging this conversation — it is very 
 painful to me to disappoint your hopes, and 
 also to hear you attribute virtues to me 
 which I do not possess. Be sure that I have 
 none of the deep, good feelings which you 
 fancy would raise yours. If you knew me 
 as I am, you would, perhaps, hate me !" — 
 her voice rose to almost passionate vehe- 
 mence — " nay, as it is, you may hate me for 
 misleading you. But, indeed, indeed, I did 
 not think you cared so seriously about me. 
 I cannot say. Captain Denbigh, how dis- 
 tressed I am !" 
 
 " And is there no hope ?" 
 
 " None !" 
 
 The decided tone and air left no room for 
 
 M 2
 
 164 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 doubt, and Captain Denbigh, with his eyes 
 fixed on the ground, sat for some moments 
 in perfect silence. Then, rising,- he said, 
 
 " I am going, Miss Clyde ; I will not ap- 
 pear a fool in your eyes any longer !" 
 
 " Captain Denbigh !" 
 
 " I have been a fool, I suppose, to misin- 
 terpret so sadly — so sadly for me, at anyrate ! 
 Good morning." 
 
 " You will shake hands — you will let us 
 part friends ? What can I say more ?" said 
 Beatrice, seeing him stand irresolute. " I 
 have humbled myself to own I did wrong — 
 I humble myself now to ask your forgive- 
 ness." 
 
 Her eyes, full of frank regret, were raised 
 to his; her face wore its best, truest ex- 
 pression. Captain Denbigh could not resist ; 
 he seized her hand, wi'ung it warmly, and 
 said, 
 
 '^ Miss Clyde, I should be a brute to blame 
 you now ; I have l^een unfortunate — that is
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 165 
 
 all! I must bear the consequence of my 
 mistake. Good-bye." 
 
 He hurried from the room, and left Bea- 
 trice sitting, resting her arms on the table, 
 her head bowed over them. She was 
 wretched and humiliated. She had misled 
 — if not wilfully, yet thoughtlessly — a man 
 whose generous forbearance overwhelmed 
 her with shame. He might forgive her; 
 but she could not forgive herself. Her love 
 of amusement and excitement had led her 
 to this. Oh ! that the last two months 
 could be blotted out of her life ! Better the 
 blank gloom she had endured before, than 
 the feverish pleasure which had ended thus, 
 in sorrow and disappointment to another — 
 in dissatisfaction to herself. She had sought 
 to catch a fleeting shadow, forgetting that 
 what were shadows to her might be realities 
 to others. 
 
 Beatrice did not know how long she had 
 been absorbed in her own thoughts, when a
 
 166 IVIEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 footstep in the room made her raise her 
 head. It was her father's ; and his glance, 
 as she met it, was fixed upon her in agitation 
 and displeasure. 
 
 " Beatrice ! what is the matter ?" 
 " Nothing, papa." And she began, in con- 
 fusion, to open her desk. 
 
 "There is something," said Mr. Clyde, 
 drawing a chair to the writing-table, and 
 sitting down exactly opposite to her, " and 
 I can guess what it is. I met Captain Den- 
 bigh as I came through the lodge-gates. I 
 asked him why he was not staying luncheon, 
 and received scarcely any answer. He had 
 a look on his face which I never saw there 
 before, but which I have seen on other men's 
 faces, and generally found to mean the same 
 thing. He has been disappointed, and you 
 are the cause, Beatrice." 
 
 " Papa, this is hardly fair " 
 
 " Perhaps, and I want no confessions. 
 But I am grievously shocked and disap-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 167 
 
 pointed. I have given you warnings, Bea- 
 trice, but you received them with pride ; 
 and, knowing that I have forfeited the right 
 to speak to you as some fathers might do, I 
 have endeavoured to rest satisfied with your 
 assurances. But you have abused my con- 
 fidence, and you have used the privilege 
 my " 
 
 " Stop ! papa !" interrupted Beatrice, start- 
 ing up, with glowing cheeks and glittering 
 eyes — " accuse me of anything but that. I 
 have been wilful and selfish, but I have 
 never despised your authority ; and I cannot 
 bear that you should think me so ungenerous 
 as to let any circumstances " 
 
 " Whatever your motives may have been, 
 you have acted in a way in which I trusted 
 a child of mine would never have done. 
 Perhaps I have no business to speak to you 
 of honour ; but I did hope that, as a Clyde, 
 you had some sense of it. You have shown 
 you have not, by leading on a young man
 
 168 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 to propose marriage to you — to you " 
 
 " Papa, spare me !" 
 
 *' I must say what I think, this time. I 
 know that there are girls who pride them- 
 selves upon the number of offers they re- 
 ceive ; but you, Beatrice, I believed superior 
 to vanity of that kind. You need no assur- 
 ances to convince you that you are beautiful 
 and attractive ; and yet you have acted as 
 the weakest of vain girls — you, too, who 
 ought to have felt yourself shut out, by an 
 impregnable barrier, from everything of the 
 kind." 
 
 " Papa, you need not remind me of this," 
 said Beatrice, clasping her hands passion- 
 ately. " My chain is for ever, only too real 
 and present, God knows I" 
 
 There was a pause of some moments' 
 duration ; various emotions displayed them- 
 selves on Mr. Clyde's face ; his brow was 
 contracted with pain and regret ; and his 
 eyes fastened themselves ^^^th a wistful ten-
 
 JMEASURE FOR MEASURE. 169 
 
 derness upon his daughter's agitated frame, 
 whilst his mouth quivered with sorrow, in 
 which some feeling of shame seemed mingled. 
 
 Beatrice sat down again. No tears were 
 pressed from her eyes ; but a few short 
 gasps told of the tumult within her mind. 
 
 Mr. Clyde spoke at length, with stern 
 effort, and in a repressed tone, from which 
 all tenderness was forcibly crushed out. 
 
 "Beatrice, I see you feel shame. I 
 cannot wish you to do less, though your 
 suffering pains me. I leave you to consider 
 hoAv you can best, in future, support your 
 own honour and dignity, and mine. We 
 must have no more of these — these wilful 
 and thoughtless misleadings." 
 
 The last words were sriven with strongs 
 emphasis, and Mr. Clyde left the room. 
 Beatrice remained for some time in the same 
 posture, until, indeed, a servant announced 
 that luncheon was ready, when she sprang 
 up, and, sending a message to her father
 
 170 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 that she was not well, and did not wish foi 
 any luncheon, she repaired to her own room, 
 locked the door, and began pacing to and 
 fro in one of her restless, agonized moods. 
 Sheer weariness compelled her to stop, and 
 she threw herself upon a couch, and lay, for 
 about an hour, in a half-prostrate condition. 
 Gradually, a species of calmness stole over 
 her, and she had almost schooled herself into 
 bearing her daily burden mth outer com- 
 posure, when a knock at her door disturbed 
 her. Larkins, her mother's maid, who was 
 also her own attendant, was there. 
 
 "Miss Clyde, if you please. Miss Con- 
 stable and her brother are in the drawing- 
 room ; would you wish to see them, or shall 
 I say you are ill?" 
 
 " Oh, say I will come directly," said 
 Beatrice, rising hastily, and rushing to the 
 glass to arrange her hair. "Larkins, do 
 get me a clean collar, at once; mine is all 
 crushed."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 171 
 
 " I would not go down, Miss, if I were 
 you — you look as if you had a dreadful 
 headache." 
 
 " It is nothing — don't teU mamma I have 
 been lying down ;" and, rapidly finishing 
 her toilet, Beatrice hastened down-stairs. 
 
 Lionel and Amy were in the drawing- 
 room, standing at one of the windows, and 
 they turned round as she entered. Lionel 
 saw at once that she was either ill or tired. 
 He had time to watch her, whilst she was 
 speaking to Amy, and, in spite of her air 
 of languor and fatigue, he thought she had 
 never looked more attractive. There was 
 a softness about her whole appearance and 
 demeanour which struck him as a new 
 charm. Her dress was less rich than usual, 
 and the soft, dark material feU about her in 
 sweeping folds, unbroken by flounce or 
 ornament; whilst the exquisitely-turned 
 throat rising above the small, plain collar, 
 and the delicate hands and wrists peepingfrom
 
 172 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 beneath the wide, flowing sleeves, appeared 
 even whiter than in the blaze of evening 
 toilette. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, 
 her mouth had a pensive expression, and 
 her ejx^s, shadowed by the heavy dark 
 rings which spoke of thought or weeping, 
 revealed depths of feeling far beyond what 
 they usually displayed. Her words had 
 not their accustomed lightness and gaiety, 
 but her manner was cordial and friendly, 
 and without the slightest tinge of the levity 
 which was sometimes attributed to it. 
 
 "And you enjoyed last night very much, 
 I am sure," she said to Amy, after some 
 conversation on the charades had passed ; 
 ** no one could look at you and doubt it." 
 
 "Did I seem so much pleased? — mamma 
 told me so too. But you must have en- 
 joyed yourself. Miss Clyde, and your acting 
 was so praised." 
 
 "That is a reason why I should have 
 enjoyed myself, certainly," said Beatrice;
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 173 
 
 " well — yes — I tliink the evening was plea- 
 sant." 
 
 " But you look tired to-day," said Amy, 
 " does she not, Lionel?" 
 
 " You know I am older than you, and 
 dissipation shows its effects more upon me," 
 said Beatrice. 
 
 Amy laughed, and exclaimed, 
 
 " I am sure every one always says you 
 are most untiring. But do you know that 
 Lionel is going away this evening? — he is 
 on his way to the station now, but I thought 
 we might start a little earlier, and call to 
 see you." 
 
 " Papa will be sorry he has not seen you, 
 Mr. Constable," said Beatrice ; " he is out 
 now, but I hope, when you come back, we 
 shall see you at the palace. Dear me!" 
 and she laughed lightly, "how very regal 
 that sounds! I have only lately accustomed 
 myself to the idea of living in a palace." 
 
 Larkins here appeared with a message.
 
 1 74 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde would be glad to see Miss Con- 
 stable if she would walk up to her room. 
 Amy had been several times to see Mrs. 
 Clyde, who had taken rather a fancy to her, 
 and, with a glance at Beatrice, she rose, and 
 followed Larkins. 
 
 " A palace ! " repeated Lionel, echoing 
 Beatrice's last sentence; "yes, it does sound 
 very grand. But I wonder you are not 
 afraid to live in such a place." 
 
 " On account of the grandeur?" 
 
 " No ; on account of the ghosts," he said, 
 solemnly. 
 
 Beatrice laughed. 
 
 " Oh ! you may laugh ; but this is just 
 the sort of place that ought to be haunted, 
 if it is not. I have no doubt that some of 
 the old Bishops have been poisoned here by 
 would-be successors." 
 
 " If they have," said Beatrice, " I don't 
 see why their ghosts should visit us now. 
 The time for vengeance must be long past."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 175 
 
 ^' But did you ever hear of a ghost 
 appearing for any purpose which we can see 
 to be beneficial? Don't they always show 
 themselves to indifferent people, who can 
 have no interest in their being alive or dead? 
 And yet, one can fancy instances in which 
 a spiritual visitation might be advantageous. 
 A spendthrift nephew, anxious to hear of 
 the death of a rich old aunt, might be able 
 to satisfy his creditors some time before he 
 might otherwise do — I mean, if he were at 
 a great distance from her — if the ghost 
 appeared to him at the moment of its 
 becoming due — it would be far better than 
 a telesrram 
 
 C5 
 
 " Yes ; and there are situations in which 
 the assurance of a person's death might be 
 even more acceptable," said Beatrice. She 
 spoke in a tone so much more earnest than 
 Lionel's badinage had seemed likely to call 
 forth, that he was surprised, and, in a more 
 serious manner, he added,
 
 176 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " However, it is hardly right to talk of 
 such things in joke. We all have some 
 faith in a state of being not recognised by 
 our limited perceptions." 
 
 "All people — all nations have it," said 
 Beatrice. " I wonder why ? " 
 
 " I suppose it is the longing to escape 
 from the actual ; the desire to be free from 
 the narrow bounds of the senses." 
 
 " Yet, how few people own it, or like to 
 talk about it ! " 
 
 "It is a sort of confession of inferiority, 
 rather derogatory to our grand views of 
 human nature. We like to think ourselves 
 the loftiest of beings." 
 
 "But we are as lofty as ghosts, surely." 
 
 " I was not meaning what are popularly 
 called ghosts^ but rather spiritual existences, 
 which may be around us, though impalpable 
 to our senses. However, this is very wild 
 talk, and if some of my friends heard it, I 
 sliould lose the character of a matter-of-fact
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 177 
 
 man of the world, which it is my present 
 aim to support." 
 
 ''You need not fear me. I shall not 
 expose you," said Beatrice. But Lionel 
 would not go on, and led the conversation 
 into another channel. They were deep in a 
 literary discussion, when Amy entered, 
 saying, as she came in, that it was time to 
 go to the station. 
 
 • Beatrice went into the hall with them, 
 and then was persuaded by Amy to put on 
 her hat, and accompany them along the 
 terrace, and down the drive, as far as the 
 lodge gates. The afternoon was mild for 
 the season, and there was scarcely a breath 
 of wind to stir the brown and orange leaves 
 which still remained on the trees. They 
 lingered a few moments at the gates, noticing 
 the tints of the oaks, contrasted by the dark 
 fir trees, and then, with a few cordial words 
 and warm hand-shakings, they parted. Bea- 
 trice slowly retraced her steps to the house, 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 thinking over the whole of her short intimacy 
 with Lionel Constable, and half envying 
 Amy for having him for a brother. He 
 was a man, she thought, of whom a woman 
 might make a friend.
 
 179 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A YOUNG LADY FORMED ON " PRUNES 
 AND PRISM." 
 
 TuE tete-a-tete dinner was not agreeable this 
 evening to either Beatrice or her father. 
 Few words passed between them, and both 
 were constrained in manner. Beatrice 
 looked sad and thoroughly depressed, and 
 Mr. Clyde gravely displeased and sorrowful. 
 Almost as soon as dinner was over Beatrice 
 retired to her own room, where she sat over 
 the fire mournfully retracing the events of 
 the last few weeks, bitterly repenting her 
 conduct, yet occasionally giving vent to a 
 
 n2
 
 180 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 fierce, rebellious ebullition of wratli against 
 her fate, wliich had led her to seek oblivion 
 of care in recklessly sacrificing the happi- 
 ness of another person to her capricious 
 pleasure. 
 
 Feeling at length utterly wearied of com- 
 munion with herself, she rose, and went to 
 see her mother, hoping, in light talk, to for- 
 get for a short time her load of self-reproach 
 and dissatisfaction. But she found, to her 
 surprise, that her father was in her mother's 
 dressing-room, and she soon gathered from 
 his gloomy silence, and her mother's discon- 
 tented look, that some unpleasant subject 
 had been discussed by them. And yet 
 she did not think that her father would 
 have troubled her mother witli the history 
 of the aifair which had so disturbed him. 
 
 Perhaps Mr. Clyde might not have done 
 so, had not his wife's curiosity been already 
 excited. Larkins had told her of Captain 
 Denbigh's visit in the morning, and of her
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 181 
 
 young mistress's illness and apparent de- 
 pression in the afternoon, with various com- 
 ments which she had sufficient acuteness to 
 make ; and Mrs. Clyde had never rested 
 until she had extorted the truth from her 
 husband, so much of it, at least, as he him- 
 self knew. 
 
 " My poor child, how is your head now?" 
 said Mrs. Clyde, in her most fondling tones, 
 as she made room for Beatrice to sit on the 
 couch on which she was reclining ; " Lar- 
 kins told me you looked so ill this after- 
 noon ; and no wonder, after what you have 
 gone through." 
 
 " Beatrice has not gone through anything 
 very painful, unless her conscience has been 
 reproaching her," said Mr. Clyde. " Other- 
 wise she is not the person to complain : she 
 is not the chief sufferer." 
 
 " Poor Captain Denbigh ! I am sure T 
 feel for him too. That day he dined here, 
 when I was so well, you know, I am sure
 
 182 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 lie kept me amused the whole evenmg, and 
 prevented me from being tired. I never 
 felt my back ache, though there is not a 
 single seat in the drawing-room that rests 
 me properly. And I saw he admired Bea- 
 trice then." 
 
 ^' You saw it," said Mr. Clyde with some 
 severity, " and yet you never warned 
 her ? " 
 
 "My dear Arthur, I could not bear to 
 spoil her pleasure, and I don't see why she 
 should not have, at least, the gratification 
 of being admired. Poor child ! her life is 
 little enough satisfaction to her ! " 
 
 " But you let her encourage attentions 
 which you understood." 
 
 " Could I have had the heart to put ideas 
 into her head which would have made her 
 stiff and formal? I was glad enough to 
 see her to such advantage. I am sure I 
 have not often had any satisfaction in my 
 child. I am sorry for the poor young man.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 183 
 
 certainly, and I wish it could have been 
 different, and he could — they looked very 
 nice together— Beatrice, my pet, take this 
 cushion for your head. It is sad for you to 
 think of what might have been, if you had 
 been allowed to follow the dictates of your 
 own heart." 
 
 " Mamma, pray do not talk in this way ; 
 it is better not to mention the subject — and 
 do not imagine that under any circum- 
 stances Captain Denbigh would have been 
 my choice — that I ever dared to think of 
 him, or should dare to think of anyone." 
 
 Beatrice's face was covered with burning 
 blushes as she spoke, and she stopped 
 abruptly. 
 
 " I should hope not," said Mr. Clyde ; 
 " bad as it is to lead on a young man with 
 false expectations, it would be worse still to 
 indulge any answering feeling. No, Bea- 
 trice ; I trust you could never forget your- 
 self so far as that."
 
 184 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I am sure it would be no wonder if she 
 did," said Mrs. Clyde; "and no one could 
 blame her." 
 
 " Alice ! is this the way you speak before 
 your daughter ?" said Mr. Clyde, angrily ; 
 " if I once imagined that any of those flirt- 
 ing, chattering officers could attract a girl 
 of Beatrice's sense, I would forbid them my 
 house, and not allow her to go into society." 
 
 " Then you would be a most unnatural 
 father," said Mrs. Clyde, in a passionate 
 tone, which sounded strangely strained, and 
 rose into a quiver almost like a cry. " You 
 would deny her the little amusement which 
 makes her lot bearable — shut her up with 
 a poor invalid like me, and a dull book- 
 worm like yourself — crush every remnant 
 of life and gaiety out of her, as it has been 
 crushed out of me " 
 
 " Mamma, do be quiet," interrupted 
 Beatrice, seizing her mother's trembling 
 hands, "I will do anything to please papa —
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 185 
 
 remain shut up if he chooses, since I am not 
 to be trusted in society. He knows I am 
 sorry for what has happened — I have said 
 so, and I will be careful in future." 
 
 " I have no wish, Beatrice, to shut you 
 up, or to be harsh," said Mr. Clyde; "I feel, 
 only too sadly, that you have suffered much 
 for me. God forbid that I should deprive 
 you of any recreation that is in my power 
 to give you. Until now, I have done so 
 with confidence, and your behaviour, except 
 during the last few weeks, has been dignified 
 and discreet." 
 
 " Because she was always grim and re- 
 served, I suppose," said Mrs. Clyde ; "now, 
 when she has been brighter and pleasanter, 
 she is to be scolded out of it. But I would 
 not, if I were Beatrice — no — in spite of 
 circumstances and warnings, and her fathers 
 injustice, I would enjoy myself. I would 
 seize the advantages my youth and beauty 
 gave me."
 
 186 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Alice, it is no use speaking, if you 
 encourage Beatrice in such folly," began 
 Mr. Clyde. 
 
 " Papa," interrupted Beatrice, "be assured 
 that I have no wish to repeat the conduct 
 which has displeased you. I am ready to 
 promise — no, I cannot promise," she con- 
 tinued impetuously, " I cannot be sure of 
 myself — I don't know what wild freaks I 
 may be tempted to — I am sure of nothing — 
 nothing in all the world, except that I am 
 TYi^etched ! " 
 
 " You see, Arthur, what you have made 
 her," said Mrs. Clyde, reproachfully ; " my 
 poor darling, how she suffers ! She will be 
 old before her time — my beautiful Bea- 
 trice !" 
 
 " Is she the only sufferer ?" asked Mr. 
 Clyde, drawing closer to the sofa, and look- 
 ing on his wife and daughter with a face 
 on which the haggard lines seemed to have 
 deepened. "Alice, the young may suffer.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 187 
 
 but they cannot be without hope; they 
 have a life-time before them, with, at any 
 rate, the power of acting well, and turning 
 the hardest circumstances to profit ; but for 
 the old, weary, and with their energies de- 
 pressed, conscious of having done their 
 work ill in the world, and of having drawn 
 the innocent after them into misery, there 
 is nothing left. Beatrice, if my words have 
 pained you, and sounded hard, I ask you to 
 forgive me. Your father needs your pity, 
 my child." 
 
 He bent down and kissed Beatrice's fore- 
 head as he ceased speaking; then quitted 
 the room. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde burst into a fit of weeping 
 when he was gone : they all conspired, she 
 believed, to make her miserable, and to 
 bring up wretched subjects before her. If 
 they would only be quiet, and not worry 
 her with their troubles ! With her delicate 
 health, she could not bear them ; but Arthur
 
 188 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 never thought of her comfort, and Beatrice 
 was unfeeling. 
 
 Beatrice could only fondle and coax her 
 mother, until the weak passion had exhausted 
 itself. Then Mrs. Clyde retracted her 
 blame; called her a dear, good girl, the 
 delight of her life, and only wished she 
 could be happy. If Captain Denbigh could 
 have been accepted, it might have been so 
 nice — ^he was so good-looking and gentle- 
 manly. 
 
 Beatrice tried to banish the subject, by 
 degrees, and at length succeeded in inducing 
 her mother to listen to the end of a love- 
 story they had been reading together. 
 Thus the evening passed, until Mrs. Clyde 
 grew sleepy, and Larkins was summoned to 
 prepare her for rest. 
 
 When Beatrice joined her father down- 
 stairs, no reference was made to what had 
 passed in the dressing room ; and, by mu- 
 tual consent, the subject of Captain Den-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 189 
 
 bigh was entirely banished. The only 
 words exchanged between them related to 
 an article in the Saturday Review^ into the 
 discussion of which they threw themselves 
 with a sort of spasmodic eagerness. 
 
 From this day a change was perceptible 
 in the manner of Beatrice in society ; she 
 was much quieter, and did not give so 
 much room for malicious accusations against 
 her, yet her new style did not tend to make 
 her more popular. The tinge of bitterness 
 in her speeches was more apparent now 
 than when it had been carried off by light 
 laughter, and her occasionally sneering tone 
 quite destroyed her chance of being esteemed 
 an amiable person. And yet, she was at 
 times so charming towards those whom she 
 cared to please, that she was not entirely 
 without defenders. It is true, the tide of 
 masculine favour rather turned against her 
 after her rejection of Captain Denbigh. 
 The officers of the 121st resented the slight
 
 190 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 that had been cast upon one of their corps^ 
 for not one of thera doubted that he had 
 been refused. He was far too transparent 
 to be able to conceal effectually that the 
 relations between himself and Miss Clyde 
 had come to a crisis — or to avoid betraying, 
 when they met in society, the different 
 terms upon which they stood to each other. 
 It was in vain that he still spoke in Miss 
 Clyde's praise, and that she endeavoured to 
 meet him without any show of embarrass- 
 ment. Colonel Morley, at any rate, was 
 far too conversant with Captain Denbigh's 
 disposition to be under any mistake as to 
 what had occurred, and what he knew was 
 soon communicated to the whole mess. 
 
 And though Colonel Morley never blamed 
 Miss Clyde, and persisted in saying he had 
 foreseen the whole affair, and that it would 
 do Denbigh no harm, but rather good, the 
 younger and more excitable portion of 
 Captain Denbigh's friends were of a dif-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 191 
 
 ferent opinion. Mr, Curzon, who had wit- 
 nessed more of the flirtation than any one 
 else, from having been the most intimate at 
 Wynthorpe House, the chief scene of the 
 meetings between the two, declared that 
 Beatrice was a thoroughly accomplished 
 flirt, and a consummate hypocrite ; and in 
 the appropriateness of these epithets most 
 concurred. 
 
 Doubtless, had Beatrice cared to exercise 
 her powers of fascination, she could have 
 brought back the allegiance of that portion 
 of H.M.'s 121st Regiment quartered at 
 Railton ; but she was in no mood to expend 
 coquettish glances or winning speeches for 
 the sake of restoring her credit. Besides, a 
 quiet period succeeded the gaiety which had 
 lately flashed across the neighbourhood; and 
 during the few weeks before Christmas 
 Beatrice remained much at home, taking 
 long solitary walks, riding with her father, 
 and paying occasional visits to the Lyttel-
 
 192 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 tons and Constables. Mrs. Constable and 
 Amy were still friendly with her ; however 
 much they, or rather Mrs. Constable, might 
 disapprove her conduct, she was welcome at 
 the Laurels, and generally displayed there 
 the best and brightest side of her character. 
 But even there annoyances sometimes 
 arose; and she felt defiant risings in her 
 heart, as the consciousness that she was only 
 half-understood, and that wrong motives 
 were attributed to her most innocent actions, 
 forced itself upon her. At times her spirit 
 revolted against the manner in which she 
 was occasionally treated by those of her own 
 sex ; she attempted to despise the womanish 
 inuendoes sometimes cast upon her; said 
 to herself that women were mean, weak, 
 cowardly ; that they might all range them- 
 selves against her, slie did not care; she 
 could bear their scorn and dislike better 
 than their approval; but a mood of this 
 kind could not long endure. Beatrice was
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 193 
 
 too lonely, and too unhappy, to be utterly 
 indifferent to sympathy. She longed for 
 friendship — even an imperfect friendship, 
 with only half-confidence, would have been 
 a relief to her — but she did not know a 
 sino;le woman with whom she could imaoine 
 herself forming a real intimacy. Her inter- 
 course, however, with Mrs. Constable and 
 Amy gave her the greatest sense of rest 
 and congeniality which she enjoyed. 
 
 One evening, when Mr. Clyde was dining 
 with a bachelor acquaintance, Beatrice went 
 to drink tea at the Laurels. Amy had asked 
 her in the morning, and she had not expected 
 to meet any other visitors, so she was sur- 
 prised, and a little disappointed, to find 
 Dora Lyttelton established in the drawing- 
 room. She had called in the afternoon, it 
 appeared, and had been persuaded to stay 
 by Mrs. Constable, who fully appreciated 
 what were considered her peculiar charms — 
 her quiet manners, and feminine acquire- 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 merits. Dora was working industriously 
 at a slipper, which Beatrice immediately 
 recognised as one of a pair Mrs. Constable 
 intended to present to Lionel on his return. 
 The pattern was particularly impressed upon 
 her memory, because she had been consulted 
 as to the best mode of working it, and had 
 utterly failed in giving any valuable opinion. 
 The dif&culty had apparently been solved 
 by Dora, and under her skilful fingers the 
 pattern was growing into definite form and 
 beauty. Amy soon called attention to it. 
 
 " Is it not pretty. Miss Clyde ? You see 
 Dora has found out the proper way of 
 working it. Mamma and I could not deter- 
 mine where the beads should come in ; we 
 did not like the piece that had been worked 
 at the shop." 
 
 " I remember," said Beatrice. 
 
 "It was in such bad taste," said Dora; 
 "and yet the pattern itself is pretty," and 
 she displayed her work.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 195 
 
 " I am only afraid I sliall not work it 
 so nicely as you, my dear," said Mrs. Con- 
 stable. 
 
 " Oh ! there is no difficulty," answered 
 Dora ; "I will put you fairly in the way, 
 dear Mrs. Constable, and then I am sure 
 you will manage admirably. But if I were 
 you, I would never buy a slipper pattern 
 again — one can make much prettier ones." 
 
 " I am sure I could not," said Mrs. Con- 
 stable ; " but you have a regular genius for 
 work." 
 
 " Genius ! oh, no ; many people do the 
 same, and it is quite easy to make patterns 
 — don't you think so. Miss Clyde?" 
 
 "I don't know, I never tried. I know 
 very little about work, but I should fancy 
 it is rather difficult to .make a really beauti- 
 ful design." 
 
 " In making patterns," said Dora, " I only 
 follow the rules of my own taste, as I should 
 do in dress." 
 
 o2
 
 196 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 
 
 "You cannot do better," said Mrs. Con- 
 stable, '^for in that you are always correct. 
 I wish Amy would take a lesson from you 
 — she is rather careless." 
 
 " Oh ! mamma, I am sure I thought fond- 
 ness for dress was one of my weaknesses." 
 
 '^ Fondness is very different from care," 
 said Mrs. Constable ; " people who are fond 
 of dress often follow an absurd fashion to 
 its extreme, which is never done by those 
 who have true taste." 
 
 Beatrice was conscious that these words 
 contained a slight hit at herself; for she 
 knew that though her dress never trans- 
 gressed against the rules of artistic taste, 
 she did yet adopt a few fashions which a 
 person of Mrs. Constable's notions would 
 be likely to consider verging upon the 
 "fast" and conspicuous style. She was 
 vexed with herself for minding such a 
 trifle, but the whole tone of the conversa- 
 tion gave her the sense of being in an in-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 197 
 
 ferior position, thougli no one would have 
 imao-ined so from her nonclialante air. Dora 
 Lyttelton always made her more uncom- 
 fortable than any one else, especially when 
 only ladies were present; if there were 
 gentlemen, she could find refuge in badi- 
 nage with them, from the scrutiny of Dora's 
 cold, quiet eyes, the tacit protest of her 
 serene manner. 
 
 " I wish you would instruct me in your 
 art of making tea," said Dora, as she sipped 
 the beverage Mrs. Constable had just poured 
 out ; " none of us can equal you, though 
 I believe we get our tea from the same 
 place." 
 
 " I get mine from Liverpool," said Mrs. 
 Constable, "and I gave your mother the 
 address, so I should think yours is the same 
 as mine. And as to art, I am sure, Dora, 
 I have always found yours very good." 
 
 " Ah ! no ; I am sure there is more in 
 your way than you fancy."
 
 198 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "■ Well, T really cannot account for it ; 
 Lionel, indeed, always says that Amy's tea 
 is not half as good as his mother's, so I 
 indulge him by making it for him, though 
 I think it is high time for me to vacate my 
 office. I like to see a young woman pre- 
 siding at a tea-table." 
 
 " Ah ! mamma gave up to Helen and me, 
 years ago," said Dora, "and I think we 
 make better tea than many people, but still 
 I always say yours is the best we ever taste. 
 Do you get your tea from Liverpool, Miss 
 Clyde?" 
 
 " Really, I don't know — I never inquired 
 — I care about it so little myself, and papa 
 always drinks coffee." 
 
 " But your mother, my dear," said Mrs. 
 Constable; "invalids are generally particu- 
 lar about such little things." 
 
 " I never heard mamma complain much 
 of the tea ; Larkins knows her tastes, and I 
 do nottroublemyself much about the matter."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 199 
 
 "There is such a difference in people," 
 said Dora; "when mamma is ill, she always 
 chooses to have her arrowroot made by me 
 — and really I think servants cannot make 
 such things so well as we can." 
 
 " There is a peculiar refinement of flavour 
 communicated by the touch of gentle fingers, 
 I suppose!" said Beatrice; but the irony of 
 her tone escaped Dora. 
 
 "Well, I believe there is something in 
 that ; and, as for me, I am peculiarly fond 
 of making such little delicacies, and waiting 
 upon invalids." 
 
 " It is a very good thing," said Mrs. 
 Constable, " for many of a woman's holiest 
 duties are by the bedsides of her friends." 
 
 " I hope they will not often fall in my 
 way," said Beatrice, "for I am sure they 
 would not suit me." 
 
 She could not resist making this speech, 
 which would, she was aware, call forth 
 much disapproval. Her auditors could not
 
 200 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 know by intuition that she had watched 
 by her father's bed through many nights of 
 dangerous illness, and that now she daily 
 fulfilled many of the most arduous duties 
 of a nurse — those, namely, of listening to, 
 and sympathising with, the tedious com- 
 plainings of a fanciful invalid. But in 
 Dora Lyttelton's presence she was con- 
 tinually tempted to make the worst of her- 
 self; her antagonistic spirit was roused, and 
 she endeavoured to appear, in every respect, 
 the opposite of Dora. 
 
 Amy's " Oh, Miss Clyde !" was uttered in 
 a tone that showed she did not quite credit 
 Beatrice's words ; but Mrs. Constable's sur- 
 prised "My dear!" and Dora's look of 
 restrained horror and polite amazement, 
 indicated nothing but the severest construc- 
 tion of her speech. When tea was over, 
 the ladies again drew out their work, with 
 the exception of Beatrice, who, in truth, 
 did fail sadly in a feminine fondness for
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 201 
 
 employing her fingers in the graceful, deli- 
 cate labours in which Dora excelled. Usu- 
 ally she looked upon this as a failing in 
 herself, and attributed it partly to her hav- 
 ing been brought up without other girls, 
 and having depended so greatly upon her 
 father for companionship; but, to-night, 
 Dora's air of superiority, as her fingers 
 dexterously moved about amidst the intri- 
 cacies of the slipper-pattern, raised within 
 her a contempt for womanly accomplish- 
 ments; and when, at Mrs. Constable's re- 
 quest, she went to the piano, her singing 
 betrayed the present tone of her mind. 
 Utterly eschewing the simple ballads which 
 suited Mrs. Constable's taste, she gave forth 
 Italian bravuras, of the intense, operatic 
 style — a mode of proceeding which, she 
 was quite aware, would meet Dora's silent 
 protest, at present, and elicit her languid 
 remarks, "Theatrical!" "In bad taste!" 
 afterwards. But music worked gradually a
 
 202 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 change in her mood; and when at length 
 she changed Verdi for Mendelssohn, and 
 her rich voice rose, and swelled, and sank, 
 and died away in one of his loveliest songs, 
 the evil spirit within her seemed quelled, 
 and her foolish bitterness appeared before 
 her in its true deformity. She could, at 
 this moment, have asked Dora's pardon for 
 her antagonistic feelings; but Dora just then 
 whispered a few words, which reached her 
 ears, and destroyed her newly-found ami- 
 ability ; they were these : 
 
 *' That song suits Miss Clyde — it was 
 Captain Denbigh's favourite." And then, 
 after a soft sigh, " Poor Captain Denbigh !" 
 
 Beatrice struck the last notes of accom- 
 paniment with loud decision, and then broke 
 forth into a dashing, flirting song — a sort 
 of thing she really disliked. 
 
 " They call me the gay canteeneer, 
 I'm the pet of the whole brigade ; 
 There is not a man, from the rear to the van, 
 But salutes to my gay cockade."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 203 
 
 The words rang out clear. The air with 
 which they were given was bewitchingly 
 gay and coquettish; likely enough to fascinate 
 many a male listener, but not so well cal- 
 culated to please a person like Mrs. Con- 
 stable. 
 
 Beatrice had never sung this identical 
 song in the presence of any of her friends of 
 the 121st; but Mrs. Constable could not 
 know that by instinct, nor was Dora likely 
 to assist her in drawing such a conclusion. 
 And, on this particular evening, and in her 
 present frame of mind, Beatrice would not 
 have objected to singing " The Canteeneer" 
 before a whole army. 
 
 She parted from Mrs. Constable and Amy^ 
 when her visit was over, with the sensation 
 that it had been the most uncomfortable 
 one she had ever paid at the Laurels ; and 
 yet, when she said "good night," she felt a 
 yearning for a few kind words from Mrs. 
 Constable, a warmer pressure of her hand,
 
 204 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 or, better still, a motherly kiss from her 
 lips, such as was bestowed upon Dora Lyt- 
 telton. But Dora was an old friend, and 
 yet more, a proper young lady; and Bea- 
 trice knew that she could not expect to be 
 treated in the same way. 
 
 She was thoroughly dissatisfied with her- 
 self when she went home — utterly wearied 
 with everything around her. Even the 
 excitement of her flirtation with Captain 
 Denbigh was looked back upon with some 
 regret ; it had not been positive enjoyment, 
 but it had been a chanfje — a somethinof to 
 break the monotony of her life. It was in 
 vain that she strove to make herself like 
 other young people ; girlhood, with girl- 
 hood's hopes and girlhood's pleasures, lay 
 divided from her by an immeasurable gulf. 
 If she attempted to enter into the interests 
 of her youthful companions, a horrible sense 
 of unreality stole across her ; and yet solitude 
 was hard to bear : she dreaded being a prey
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 205 
 
 to her own thoughts, becoming shut up in 
 her own consciousness ; for she had ex- 
 perienced the agonies of such a state, and 
 she revolted in thought from the mere re- 
 membrance of it.
 
 206 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " Small talk, which cuts like powdered glass." 
 
 Lionel Constable had not been many days 
 at his mother's house, after his return from 
 London, before he heard that Miss Clyde 
 had rejected Captain Denbigh, and that her 
 conduct was severely commented upon by 
 the whole neighbourhood. Though receiv- 
 ing all the reports which reached him with 
 certain reservations, and quoting against 
 them his favourite lines, " Ts it anybody's 
 business ?" he could not help being, in 
 reality, strangely puzzled by Beatrice, and 
 somewhat inclined to blame her. Yet,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 207 
 
 whenever he met her, he fell under the 
 fascination of her influence, admired her 
 ardently, and believed her worthy of more 
 than mere admiration. 
 
 Soon after his arrival, he received an in- 
 vitation to dine with his mother and sister 
 at the Palace. The party was not a large 
 one, consisting, besides the Constables, of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Lyttelton, Dora and Fred, 
 the Carletons, and Colonel Morley. 
 
 Helen Lyttelton having, since her engage- 
 ment, adopted the foolish custom of retiring 
 in a great measure from society, Dora was, 
 commonly, the Miss Lyttelton who repre- 
 sented the family. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde did not dine with her guests, 
 but she was well enough to appear in the 
 drawing-room afterwards, and here Lionel 
 saw her for the first time. Notwithstand- 
 ing her weak state, she looked extremely 
 well ; indeed, it was a remarkable fact that 
 on days when there was company at the
 
 208 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Palace, Mrs. Clyde generally both looked 
 and felt better than at other times, and 
 found herself able to go down-stairs in the 
 evening, a very rare occurrence when only 
 her husband and daughter were present. 
 
 She was rather struck with Lionel, and 
 kept him talking to her for some time, 
 dilating chiefly on the virtues of Beatrice, a 
 favourite theme with her, though always 
 pursued most innocently. No one could 
 suspect Mrs. Clyde of being a designing 
 mother, though her weakness might furnish 
 some amusement. Lionel had, as yet, 
 scarcely spoken to Beatrice; he had taken 
 Dora Lyttelton into the dining-room, and 
 had been separated, by several people, from 
 Beatrice. He had heard her lauffhino; and 
 talking with Mr. Carleton and Colonel 
 Morley, and his ear had distinguished some- 
 thing sad and forced in her tones. A pecu- 
 liarity slight indeed, and such as he would 
 not have noticed, had he not been once, in
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 209 
 
 some degree, admitted behind the conven- 
 tional veil which Beatrice placed between 
 herself and the world. He could detect 
 the hollow ring in her voice even now, as 
 it reached him from the other end of the 
 room, where she was sitting between his 
 sister Amy and Dora Lyttelton. How dif- 
 ferent she looked from either the pretty, 
 innocent-looking girl, or the serene, self- 
 satisfied young lady! There w^as a certain 
 wildness about Beatrice which penetrated 
 through the ordinary lady- like propriety of 
 her dress and appearance — a restless fire 
 about her eyes and movements, piercing 
 through all the restraints of assumed indif- 
 ference — a betrayal of something within, 
 which seemed as if it must find vent or 
 else consume her with vain longings and 
 fruitless repinings. Lionel experienced a 
 sense of pain in watching her, and trying 
 to interpret the changing hues and lines of 
 a countenance she herself imagined so well 
 
 VOL. I. p
 
 210 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 schooled. Capable of self-control as sha 
 really was, her whole face, nay, her whole 
 frame, was too readily respondent to every 
 fine change within her not to reveal, to 
 observant eyes, that she was not either 
 the mere fashionable flirt or the digni- 
 fied automaton which she tried to appear 
 in turn. 
 
 Music gave Lionel an excuse for leaving 
 Mrs. Clyde ; all the young people gathered 
 round the piano, and he joined the group. 
 The drawing-room at the Palace was long, 
 and rather narrower at one end than at the 
 other, forming a kind of recess terminating 
 in a large bay window. The piano stood 
 across the entrance to this narrower portion 
 of the room, which was thus cut off from 
 the rest, and served as an admirable place 
 for a tete-a-tete. 
 
 Lionel presently found himself, he knew 
 not how, seated with Dora Lyttelton in the 
 recess, listening to the singing of Beatrice
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 211 
 
 Clyde, but having his attention frequently 
 distracted by the remarks of his companion, 
 which, though chiefly in praise of Beatrice, 
 produced in him a feeling of strong irrita- 
 tion against some one — whether Beatrice or 
 Dora he could hardly decide. 
 
 " Will you sing ' The Canteeneer,' Miss 
 Clyde?" asked Dora, in her blandest tones, 
 during a pause. 
 
 " I would rather not," said Beatrice ; "I 
 will sing something more likely to please 
 generally," and she struck the first notes of 
 Kingsley's " Three Fishers." 
 
 But Colonel Morley, who had been turn- 
 ing over her music, had just discovered 
 " The Canteeneer," and he placed it upon 
 the desk before her, saying, 
 
 " Do sing this, Miss Clyde, it is capital, 
 and you will do justice to it." 
 
 Beatrice took her fingers from the keys, 
 and deliberately put the song aside. 
 
 " Excuse me. Colonel Morley, I was 
 
 p 2
 
 212 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 beginning another song, and I do not wish 
 to be interrupted." 
 
 " Then afterwards ? " said Colonel Mor- 
 ley ; but Beatrice only shook her head, 
 and began singing " Three Fishers " from 
 memory. 
 
 "What is ^The Canteeneer' like?" asked 
 Lionel of Dora. 
 
 " Oh ! don't you know it ? " said Dora ; 
 and she went up to the piano and returned 
 with the song, which she gave to Lionel. 
 
 He read it through, and said, 
 
 " I dare say it is very effective, if well 
 sung." 
 
 "It suits Miss Clyde admirably; better 
 than any of her songs. I wish you would 
 ask her to sing it ?" 
 
 "She has already refused," said Lionel, 
 " and I can understand her objection. I 
 am sure you would refuse to sing it yourself 
 before a mixed audience." 
 
 "lam not Miss Clyde," returned Dora,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 213 
 
 " and her scruples are quite new. I have 
 heard her sing ' The Canteeneer,' and I am 
 not the only person who has done so. 
 However, I suppose she favours particular 
 people." 
 
 " Colonel Morley, it appears, has not 
 heard her," said Lionel. 
 
 " Colonel Morley does not go out so much 
 as many of the 121st officers do," said Dora, 
 significantly; "however, the matter is not 
 very important — it is of no consequence 
 to us whether or not Miss Clyde has sung it 
 before a whole brigade." 
 
 " Certainly not," said Lionel, with a 
 peculiar smile, which Dora did not quite 
 like. 
 
 When Beatrice had finished her sonsr 
 she gave up her place to Dora, and joined 
 Amy Constable and Mr. Carleton, who 
 were sitting at a little distance from the 
 piano. 
 
 Lionel turned over the leaves of Dora's
 
 214 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 music for a short time, and then, taking 
 literally her words, that he made her ner- 
 vous, he left his post, and went up to Bea- 
 trice. Mr. Carleton was endeavouring to 
 persuade her to go to Railton, during the 
 approaching assize Tveek, to listen to the elo- 
 quence of a celebrated barrister. 
 
 " You will add your persuasions to mine, 
 I am sure, Constable," he said, as Lionel 
 drew near. "Ought Miss Clyde to miss this 
 opportunity of hearing Hawkins? She 
 says she has never been inside a court of law 
 in her life." 
 
 " It does not do to recommend one's own 
 wares," said Lionel, " but still I feel bound 
 to say that I think Miss Clyde would be 
 interested. If we could hear of a good 
 cause in the Nisi Prius " 
 
 " Oh ! why not in the Criminal Court, 
 Lionel ? " interrupted Amy ; "I am sure it 
 is far the most interestino;." 
 
 " I am shocked at your depraved taste,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 215 
 
 Amy," said her brother, with mock solemnity ; 
 " I am afraid you are like a girl I once over- 
 heard, coming out of court, saying she had 
 heard nothing worth listening to ; she liked 
 a real good murder the best, but a regular 
 burglary, with thieves in black masks, was 
 not bad." 
 
 " Well, but without going in for murders 
 or robberies, have we a chance of hearing 
 Serjeant Hawkins ?" asked Beatrice. 
 
 " Of course you have," said Mr. Carleton ; 
 "you can hear him in that contested will 
 case, which is making such a noise here. 
 And if you go to Railton you must haA^e 
 luncheon with us. You must come, too, 
 Lionel, and bring your sister." 
 
 " I should like it very much," began Amy, 
 "but " 
 
 " Don't make any buts," said Beatrice, 
 " you can drive with me, you know." 
 
 " And I will ride over and take you both 
 into court," said Lionel, eagerly.
 
 216 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "We are settling it all without letting 
 Mrs. Carleton know how we are going to 
 take her by storm," said Beatrice. 
 
 " Oh, my wife is always delighted to see 
 her friends," said Mr. Carleton. " Here, 
 Louisa, come and assure these people that 
 they may make their appearance at lun- 
 cheon any day next week, without incur- 
 ring your displeasure." 
 
 Mrs. Carleton crossed the room to hear 
 what was going on, and then confirmed the 
 invitation with some heartiness. Beatrice 
 had risen in her favour in proportion as she 
 had lost it with the world in general ; be- 
 sides, she always made a point of adopting 
 her husband's plans in public. 
 
 "What is it you are arranging, Bea- 
 trice ? " said Mr. Clyde, who had caught 
 some words of the discussion durin^r a 
 pause in Dora's playing. He was standing 
 at no great distance with Mr. Lyttelton, and 
 both gentlemen turned towards the group,
 
 MEASURE FOR xMEASURE. 217 
 
 which was now the noisiest in the room. 
 Beatrice explained, and then Mr. Carleton 
 said : — 
 
 " Perhaps you will come, too, Mr. Clyde ; 
 the case will be worth hearing?" 
 
 "No, thank you; I am not fond of law, and 
 avdid hearing more of it than I am obliged." 
 
 " That is right," said Mr. Lyttelton. " I 
 am quite of your opinion. Law causes 
 half the misery in the world — no offence to 
 you, Lionel Constable. There's my own 
 boy, Sydney, going to be a lawyer, and I 
 don't half like it — but what can one do 
 with boys now-a-days? As for hearing 
 cases, I would not enter Railton Court- 
 house to hear the best barrister that ever 
 spoke. I have been on the grand jury 
 before now, and that is enough to satisfy 
 any man with law." 
 
 " I suppose, though, you have formed an 
 opinion about this case," said Mr. Carleton ; 
 " the contested will at Ashberry ? "
 
 218 ]VIEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " The late Mr. Robson's ? Yes, I have 
 heard a good deal about it from different 
 people, and my impression is that the law- 
 yer who made it is a rascal. If I had any- 
 thing to do with it I'd have him trans- 
 ported, and with a vengeance — that's what 
 I'd do, law or no law ! " 
 
 "■ But he is not to be brought to trial," 
 said Mr. Carleton ; "an attempt is only 
 made to prove the will invalid, on account 
 of Mr. Robson having been of unsound 
 mind when he made it." 
 
 " I don't understand the case exactly," 
 said Beatrice. 
 
 " So far as I have heard, it is this," said 
 Lionel. "An old man makes a will, leav- 
 ing all his property away from his relations 
 to his young wife ; the relations dispute the 
 will, on the score of his insanity, and the 
 lawyer who made the will is suspected by 
 some people of having used undue in- 
 fluence."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 219 
 
 " There is no doubt about it," said Mr. 
 Lyttelton. 
 
 " It appears very unlikely to me," said 
 Mr. Clyde, '' that a man who had any posi- 
 tion to lose would commit a folly so likely 
 to compromise him, without benefiting him 
 in any remarkable manner." 
 
 "Lionel forgot to say, in stating the 
 case," said Mr. Carleton, " that whatever 
 influence the lawyer used was backed up by 
 the wife ; and that before the relations 
 raised this question, it was generally un- 
 derstood that the two were going to be 
 married." 
 
 " It seems altogether an iniquitous busi- 
 ness," said Mr. Clyde; "but I am still un- 
 able to understand how a man could place 
 himself in such a situation. He must have 
 known that he would soon be suspected, 
 and I should think would have been ready 
 to sacrifice anything rather than run the 
 risk of having his honor questioned."
 
 220 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Would you have had him refuse to 
 make the will ? " asked Lionel. 
 
 " Certainly, if anything made it likely 
 that he would be suspected of having any 
 interest in it." 
 
 " But if he knew himself to be innocent?" 
 said Lionel. 
 
 " Even then caution would be advisable 
 in such a case," said Mr. Clyde; "if scandal 
 had in any way coupled his name with Mrs. 
 Robson's, he should have been the last man 
 in the world to make the will." 
 
 " You may be right," said Lionel, " but if 
 all were equally scrupulous, much work 
 would remain undone in the world." 
 
 " I am sure, Mr. Constable, you would 
 not yourself undertake any business likely 
 to call your honor in question," said Mr. 
 Clyde. 
 
 "I don't know. I would not, I hope, 
 undertake any business really dishonour- 
 able ; but I am not sure that I should let
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 221 
 
 scruples as to what construction might be 
 put upon my actions affect me. Duty 
 sometimes compels one to allow even one's 
 honor to be questioned — to keep one's in- 
 tegrity pure, one may be obliged to let one's 
 honor suffer a seeming stain." 
 
 Mr. Clyde did not reply, but moved 
 away to another part of the room. Lionel 
 turned to Beatrice, whose eyes were fixed 
 upon him with a peculiar intense expression. 
 She dropped them suddenly, and Lionel 
 said : — 
 
 "Do you share your father's antipathy to 
 law, Miss Clyde?" 
 
 " No, not at all. I think it rather inter- 
 esting, and should like to know more of it. 
 There are many questions I should be glad 
 to settle in my own mind — women know so 
 little of law." 
 
 " You had better read Blackstone ; the 
 study would not harm you, though it 
 would not make you a lawyer."
 
 222 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " But there is so much of it/' said 
 Beatrice. 
 
 "Well, if you like abridgements, I can 
 lend you some," said Lionel — " and with the 
 addition of my valuable notes too." 
 
 " Thank you ; I shall remind you of your 
 promise," said Beatrice; then, becoming 
 aware that Dora Lyttelton was near, and 
 had probably overheard the last few sen- 
 tences, she rose and went to speak to her 
 mother. 
 
 Lionel could not attend to the little 
 speeches Dora languidly let fall ; he was 
 watching the pretty tableau at the end of 
 the room, where Beatrice, having carefully 
 arranged her mother's cushions and foot- 
 stool, was tenderly bending over her. The 
 beauty of the two was strikingly apparent 
 when they were together, and the attach- 
 ment between them most artlessly shown. 
 
 But a remark of Dora's fell like cold 
 water on Lionel's ardent admiration. It
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 223 
 
 was complimentary to Beatrice, yet con- 
 tained something which gave an impression 
 that what appeared so simple and beautiful 
 was only a form of attraction. 
 
 "Miss Clyde," said Colonel Morley, a 
 little later in the evening, " are you quite 
 determined not to give us ' The Canteeneer' ? 
 I hear so much of your manner of singing 
 it, and it is unfair only to favour some 
 with it." 
 
 " I dare say you would not like it," said 
 Beatrice, " and I have sung enough for to- 
 night." 
 
 " Beatrice, my 'dear, do not be disoblig- 
 ing," said Mrs. Clyde; "if the song is 
 really pretty why do you not sing it ? " 
 
 " It is not very pretty, mamma." 
 
 " It sounded so, as you sang it the other 
 night," said Dora, in a low voice, to Bea- 
 trice ; " but I suppose it does not suit every 
 audience." 
 
 " I will sing it to please you, if you wish,"
 
 224 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 said Beatrice aloud; "but only those who 
 particularly want to hear it need attend." 
 
 She went to the piano, accompanied by 
 Dora and Colonel Morley, and Lionel Con- 
 stable followed. Xow that she had been 
 in some measure defied to sing the song, 
 she determined to throw herself thoroughly 
 into it, and she gave it with an expression 
 which enchanted Colonel Morley. Lionel 
 admired her spirit and piquancy, but could 
 not help wondering whether she often sang 
 such songs in society. When she had 
 finished, she returned to her mother, walk- 
 ing past Colonel Morley and Dora, without 
 paying any attention to their admiring 
 remarks. 
 
 " I don't think you appreciated the song 
 much," said Dora to Lionel, a few moments 
 afterwards. " To be sure, it does not address 
 itself to one of your profession." 
 
 " I hope you do not think my taste so 
 narrow," said Lionel ; " besides, I have
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 225 
 
 always understood, from musical people, 
 that the words of a song don't go for much ; 
 and if they did, 1 cannot imagine that songs 
 addressed to barristers would have anything 
 very lively or picturesque about them ; 
 they might succeed, perhaps, in being pa- 
 thetic. 
 
 Dora had no time to reply, for her mother 
 was making the signal of departure, and 
 she dutifully rose at once. The party broke 
 up directly afterwards, and Lionel shook 
 hands with Beatrice, feeling that her cha- 
 racter was as much a mystery to him as 
 ever. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 226 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A HALF-RECOGNITION. 
 
 Lionel Constable met Beatrice and Amy 
 at the Carletons' door, on the morning of 
 the following Thursday, and hurried them 
 off, as soon as Mrs. Carleton was ready to 
 accompany them, to hear the disputed will 
 case. Good places were found, and they 
 were soon interested in listening to evidence, 
 and to the powerful pleading of Serjeant 
 Hawkins. 
 
 "What would Mr. Clyde say now?" said 
 Lionel to Beatrice, soon after their arrival ; 
 "he would not believe that the lawyer who
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 227 
 
 made the will had any interest in the matter; 
 and yet, I have just heard that he has ab- 
 sconded, which looks suspicious." 
 
 '^ Papa cannot imagine that any one 
 would risk his honor, for the sake of any 
 benefit," said Beatrice. "There are few 
 people so sensitive on this point as he is." 
 
 "Well, I can imagine this unfortunate 
 lawyer to have been sensitive also," said 
 Lionel ; " otherwise, he would not have run 
 away now, to avoid the shame of exposure. 
 I cannot understand that kind of sensitive- 
 ness myself, but I know it exists. If you 
 have done wrong, why, stay and bear the 
 blame ; it must be just as bad to know 
 that you are abused behind your back." 
 
 "It is a misfortune, when people are so 
 sensitive to possible shame, that they will 
 do wrong things to escape it," said Beatrice. 
 
 " Yes ; and it is quite different from the 
 shame which would keep them from doing 
 wrong in the first instance. A sensitive 
 
 q2
 
 228 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 conscience is one thing — a sensitive vanity 
 another." 
 
 Beatrice coloured painfully as Lionel 
 spoke, and seemed very thoughtful for a 
 minute or two. He tried in vain to dis- 
 cover anything in his words which could 
 have affected her, and presently began 
 speaking on some different subject. 
 
 When the whole party were satisfied 
 with Avhat they had seen and heard in Court, 
 Mrs. Carleton proposed taking Amy to see 
 an old lady, a friend of hers, who had also 
 been formerly acquainted with Mrs. Con- 
 stable, and had lately come to live at Rail- 
 ton ; and Beatrice, remembering that she 
 wanted some books at the library, Lionel 
 offered to accompany her there. The four 
 divided into two parties, arranging to meet 
 an hour hence, for luncheon, at the Carle- 
 tons' house. 
 
 Beatrice and Lionel proceeded down a 
 street at right angles with the Court-house,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 229 
 
 and, in turning the corner, almost knocked 
 against a man who was hurrying along. 
 After he had passed, Beatrice stood still for 
 an instant, looking after him. She had 
 turned very pale, and Lionel saw that she 
 trembled. Suddenly collecting herself, she 
 began to walk with a rapid step, saying to 
 Lionel, 
 
 '^ I am afraid you think me very strange, 
 Mr. Constable ; but that man's face reminded 
 me of one I saw many years ago, and I 
 could not help looking after him, to see if 
 he were the same person." 
 
 " He went towards the Court-house," 
 said Lionel. '' If you wish to satisfy your- 
 self, we can turn round and pass him. He 
 is, probably, still outside; for there is a 
 considerable crowd to get through." 
 
 " I should like it," said Beatrice ; " though 
 it is of no real consequence to me." 
 
 They turned back, and passed the Court- 
 house : in the midst of a group on the
 
 230 3VIEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 steps, Beatrice recognised the man she 
 sought. Lionel, who had scarcely noticed 
 him before, now observed him attentively. 
 He was a short, stout man, with a round 
 face; small, black, bead-like eyes; hair and 
 whiskers that had evidently been black also, 
 but were now grizzled ; the lower part of 
 the face thick and heavy, and ending in a 
 double chin. His age might have been be- 
 tween forty and fifty, and his appearance 
 was that of a small tradesman or clerk. 
 Lionel marvelled much what interest Bea- 
 trice could have in a person of this descrip- 
 tion ; and was still more astonished when 
 she touched his arm, and displaying a face 
 perfectly blanched with some strange emo- 
 tion, and working painfully in every feature, 
 said, 
 
 ^'Let us turn — I am satisfied." 
 
 " You recognise the man, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes. Don't say any more." 
 
 They walked on for some moments in 
 silence.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 231 
 
 Many thoughts struggled within Lionel's 
 breast: wonder at the singularity of Bea- 
 trice's behaviour ; conjectures as to her 
 possible connection with this man — doubt, 
 pity. The last was, after all, the predomi- 
 nant feeling ; pity for her evident suffering. 
 That this man had some power over her, 
 Lionel could not but conclude ; why else 
 did the sight of him call forth such manifest 
 emotion ? — seeming almost like dread. And 
 yet, he had not appeared to notice her ; nor 
 had she expected him to do so, or she would 
 have shrunk from exposing herself a second 
 time to his view. 
 
 Meanwhile, Beatrice walked on, forgetful, 
 apparently, where she was going, or that 
 any one was with her. 
 
 Lionel stopped opposite the library, and 
 then she started, like a person waking from 
 a dream, went in, and inquired for her 
 books in a calm, collected manner. But he 
 could see that she was still very unlike her-
 
 232 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 self; and, unable to bear the sight of her 
 distress, he said, as soon as they were in the 
 street again, 
 
 " Miss Clyde, pray do not think me im- 
 pertinent, but I cannot help seeing that the 
 sight of that man has made you uncomfort- 
 able ; if anything can be done to give you 
 rest " 
 
 " Oh!" said Beatrice, " there is no use in 
 referring to the subject — I begged you not." 
 
 "I know: but if I could do anything — 
 make inquiries for you — anything you en- 
 trusted to me would be sacred." 
 
 " There is nothing to do," said Beatrice; 
 " the man reminded me of some one — that 
 is all." 
 
 "Then he is not really the person you 
 thought?" 
 
 "I don't know — the likeness is remarkable, 
 but whether he is or not does not signify." 
 
 She spoke decidedly, but Lionel saw that 
 a shiver ran through her frame.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 233 
 
 " I wish I were a friend of yours, Miss 
 Clyde," said he, impulsively; " I mean, I 
 wish that you would let me consider myself 
 one. In such a case, no power on earth 
 should hinder me from doing something to 
 give your mind relief It is terrible to see 
 a woman suffer! — and you do suffer — you 
 try to conceal it, but your strength fails 
 you. Nay, Miss Clyde, you must hear 
 me," and he turned, as he spoke, into a 
 quiet road which led towards the Carletons' 
 house ; "I have watched you, impelled by 
 an irresistible interest, and I can see that 
 you are not the happy, careless being you 
 try to appear." 
 
 "Mr. Constable," interrupted Beatrice, 
 drawing herself up with dignity, " I cannot 
 bear this intrusion into my private affairs." 
 
 "I do not wish to intrude — I am sorry 
 that my words gave such an impression," 
 said Lionel, in a calmer tone; "I only in- 
 tended to say that, if it be possible for me
 
 234 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 to do. anything for you, you may command 
 my services by night or day — I would say 
 the same to any woman who appeared as 
 unhappy as I cannot help saying you do." 
 
 Beatrice remained silent for a moment ; 
 then she said, 
 
 " It is impossible to be offended with 
 you, and I do not know any one whose 
 help I would ask more readily, but I do 
 not see how it could be in your power to 
 lessen any unhappiness there may be in my 
 life. You are almost a stranger to me — I 
 do not quite mean that," she corrected her- 
 self, with a sudden smile, which brightened 
 and softened her whole face — " I mean that 
 you do not know any circumstances about 
 me ; and if there are any of a nature to 
 cause me suffering, you could neither 
 enter into them, nor help me to escape 
 them." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Lionel, " and but 
 for the incident of to-day I should never,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 235 
 
 though suspecting that you were not quite 
 happy, have ventured to speak as I have 
 done. It struck me that perhaps, as you 
 appeared so strangely aiFected by the sight 
 of that man, you might like to know what 
 brought him here — I could ascertain it for 
 you easily; and that was the only definite 
 service I had in my mind whenj I spoke of 
 your commanding me." 
 
 Beatrice thought for a minute. 
 
 " I think I should like to be sure that he 
 was the man. If you could find out the 
 man's name, Mr. Constable, and his business 
 here, I should be obliged to you." 
 
 " I will do so most certainly," said Lionel; 
 and they did not exchange more words till 
 they reached the house. Mrs. Carleton and 
 Amy were in the hall, having just arrived, 
 and Beatrice went upstairs directly with 
 the latter, to take off her bonnet. 
 
 As soon as she had entered the room, she 
 sat down in an arm-chair, and leant back
 
 236 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 with an air of such exhaustion that Amy- 
 was quite alarmed. 
 
 " What is the matter, Miss Clyde? How 
 pale you look ! — can I do anything for you?" 
 she exclaimed, flying to the washing-stand, 
 and pouring out some cold water — the 
 grand remedy, in her estimation, for every 
 ill, mental and physical. 
 
 But Beatrice did not heed the water ; 
 she waved it away, and burying her face 
 in the cushions, gave vent to two or three 
 gasping sobs. Amy, more frightened than 
 before, spoke of going for Mrs. Carleton, 
 but Beatrice, seizing her hands, almost com- 
 manded her to stay, and, by a violent 
 effort, restrained any further display of 
 agitation. 
 
 At luncheon she talked with more than 
 usual animation, not, however, to Lionel, 
 but to Mr. Carleton and Colonel Morley, 
 who had just dropped in. 
 
 Yet the burning flush which had succeeded
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 237 
 
 her paleness, betrayed something of the 
 tumult within her, and once more Lionel 
 found himself pondering over the problem 
 which her demeanour presented to him. 
 Half-angry with himself for the interest he 
 felt in a person who was nothing, never 
 could be anything to him, he seized the first 
 opportunity, after luncheon, of slipping 
 away ; not, however, acting in a likely man- 
 ner to make him forget her concerns, since 
 he proceeded at once to fulfil the commis- 
 sion she had given him. 
 
 Beatrice guessed where he had gone, and 
 a sudden heart-sickness attacked her ; she 
 could no longer answer Colonel Morley's 
 badinage, and, as an excuse for silence, she 
 took up a book that lay on the table. It 
 was a volume of passionate love-poetry, 
 and she threw it down again, almost imme- 
 diately, with such an impetuous movement, 
 that Mr. Carleton approached to see what 
 had caused such apparent displeasure.
 
 238 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Ah! Owen Meredith," he said; "well, 
 I suppose he is too high-flown and romantic 
 for you, Miss Clyde, but he has written 
 some sweet little things." And he opened 
 the book, and turned over the leaves. 
 " 'Once' and ' Since,' " he said, "have you 
 read those lines, Miss Clyde?" 
 
 " No," said Beatrice. 
 
 " Then you must hear them, they are 
 good of the kind ;" and without further re- 
 mark he read the two poems aloud. 
 
 " Don't they give one a terrible feeling of 
 destiny ?" he said, when he had finished. 
 
 " Perhaps ; but the case was, after all, 
 not so bad as it might have been." 
 
 " What ! not the separation ? — the un- 
 certainty of each other's feelings, the dread 
 of broken faith ?" 
 
 " All these things are bad enough, I dare- 
 say ; but still the fate was not irretrievable 
 — anything short of that may be borne." 
 
 " Upon my word, Miss Clyde, your ideas
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 239 
 
 of suiFering must be wonderful, if you 
 cannot pity the lovers in * Once ' and 
 ' Since !' " 
 
 " I don't say I do not pity them," said 
 Beatrice, " I only think the man made 
 more fuss than was necessary ; I daresay he 
 managed to lead a very comfortable life 
 after aU." 
 
 " Oh ! Miss Clyde, what a dreadfully un- 
 sentimental person you must be ! I don't 
 believe, however, you mean all you say." 
 
 "Let me show you my favourite. Miss 
 Clyde," said Colonel Morley, drawing near ; 
 and, taking up the book, he turned to the 
 poem of " Madame la Marquise," and showed 
 it to Beatrice. 
 
 " The picture is very pretty," she said, 
 when she had read it ; " one can quite see 
 the elegant, luxurious Marquise." 
 
 " Ah ! but you have not observed the 
 best line," said Colonel Morley; and he 
 repeated,
 
 240 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " But what the heart's like, we must guess ! " 
 
 " It is a stale remark, I think," said Bea- 
 trice ; " women have been accused of heart- 
 lessness from all eternity, and it is not worth 
 while to refute the charge." 
 
 " But the Marquise is not accused of 
 heartlessness, she is only incomprehen- 
 sible." 
 
 '* Well, I like an incomprehensible wo- 
 man," said Mr. Carleton — " she is so 
 piquante." 
 
 ^'Painfully so, sometimes," said Colonel 
 Morley ; " except for those who look upon 
 her as a study." 
 
 Beatrice made no remark ; she was weary 
 of answering Colonel Morley's covert hits, 
 and she closed the book, left the table, and 
 seated herself near the window, looking into 
 the wintry garden, and catching through 
 the leafless branches the distinct outlines of 
 the cathedral. The bells just then chimed 
 the hour, and the sound boomed with long
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 241 
 
 echoes through the frosty air. To Beatrice's 
 excited fancy it seemed the solemn toll of 
 destiny ; and she experienced, for the mo- 
 ment, that wild longing which sometimes 
 seized her, to rush out of herself, to eman- 
 cipate herself from the bitter thraldom of 
 individuality — even to sink into annihilation. 
 Such moments always appeared to her, on 
 retrospection, filled with madness; and even, 
 whilst they endured, a dread of losing all 
 self-possession was latent within her, and 
 she was glad to lay hold on any trifling, 
 external matter to command her attention 
 and drown thought. She was on the point 
 of asking to see Mrs. Carleton's work, hop- 
 ing to get up a little fictitious interest about 
 it, when Lionel re-entered the room, and 
 she sat still, feeling instinctively that he was 
 going to speak to her. He came up, and 
 said, in a low voice, 
 
 " The name is Richard Barker. The man 
 is some sort of clerk in London, and came 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 here as witness in some case or other. His 
 evidence was of no great importance ; and 
 he leaves the town to-morrow, I understand. 
 The trial was purely concerning a business 
 transaction, and I do not know all particu- 
 lars, but I can make them out if you wish." 
 
 " Oh, no ; it cannot concern me ; and the 
 name is not the one I expected." 
 
 " Yet, I thought you recognised the 
 man's face." 
 
 " I fancied so ; but I might be mistaken. 
 However, it is of no consequence, and I am 
 sorry I troubled you about the affair. I 
 shall be glad if you will never allude to it 
 again." 
 
 " I will not," said Lionel ; and the subject 
 ended. 
 
 They continued talking, however, on other 
 topics, until Beatrice thought it was time 
 for her and Amy to leave. Yet she rose 
 regretfully ; the last half-hour had oblite- 
 rated, in some degree, the painful impres-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 243 
 
 sions she had received during the day. 
 Lionel was so chivalrous in sentiment and 
 act, so full of high hopes and ardent im- 
 pulses, that her own spirit seemed to spring 
 from its crushed state as she heard him ; 
 and she could dream of interests that would 
 absorb her nature to the exclusion of pri- 
 vate cares. She felt her mental activity 
 invigorated, and a new impetus given to her 
 to study and to work ; to abstract her own 
 individual sorrows from the higher part of 
 her nature, and to find rest and freedom 
 from them in the inexhaustible wealth of 
 thought which lay spread before her. 
 
 The drive home was rather a silent one : 
 Amy's talk, though pleasant and intelligent, 
 could not satisfy Beatrice just then; and 
 Amy herself, fancying her companion was 
 tired, left her to her own meditations. 
 
 Beatrice could not have accounted to 
 herself for the influence Lionel Constable 
 was beginning to exercise over her ; she 
 
 r2
 
 244 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 would, perhaps, have denied that he did 
 exercise any, yet it was certain that a change 
 did gradually steal over her life, and that a 
 discussion with him always left her happier. 
 They met frequently during this Christ- 
 mas visit, and, although they seldom had 
 exclusive conversation together, although 
 there was nothing in the manner of Beatrice 
 that could be construed by the world into 
 a repetition of her behaviour towards Cap- 
 tain Denbigh, yet they each felt irresistibly 
 drawn towards the other. Beatrice fancied, 
 sometimes, that she had found the partial 
 friendship — the half-sympathy which was the 
 utmost, she believed, it would be ever her 
 lot to receive. On intellectual ground, she 
 and Lionel could meet with satisfaction ; 
 and his genial character was pleasant to her 
 as a study, from being so different, she 
 imagined, to her own, and yet so like what 
 her nature might possibly have expanded 
 to under favouring circumstances.
 
 245 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CONSOLATIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 
 
 The fierce heat of the day — one of the last 
 in July — was over, and in the soft twilight 
 Beatrice Clyde and Amy Constable were 
 sitting on the little lawn in front of the 
 Laurel^ Beatrice had been spending the 
 day there, an occurrence not very unusual, 
 now that her mother's health was so much 
 improved as to make her presence less 
 required at home. The last six months, 
 though they had brought little external 
 change to Beatrice, had not passed without 
 producing a wide difference in her inner
 
 246 MEASUEE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 life. She fancied, indeed, that she had left 
 the whole past behind her; and that the 
 more extended views she had gained would 
 prevent her ever giving way in future to 
 the Avild, passionate longings and bitter 
 repinings of former days. She had read 
 much during this interval, and her books 
 had been of a different stamp from those 
 which her father had recommended to her, 
 and her opinions had ranged far beyond 
 those which he had endeavoured to instil 
 into her. She had felt cramped and bounded 
 before, and her intellectual pursuits had 
 not been enough to satisfy her; but now 
 she trusted in their full efficacy to preserve 
 her from depression, and from too close a 
 contemplation of herself and the circum- 
 stances surrounding her ; nay, seen by her 
 new lights, how small did everything indi- 
 vidual appear when brought into contact 
 with the Infinite! 
 
 " Don't you think mamma will be ex-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 247 
 
 pecting us to go in to tea?" said Amy, 
 breaking the long silence which had lasted 
 between her and Beatrice. 
 
 " Perhaps; but it is so delicious — I was 
 looking at the lovely greenish light Venus 
 is shedding just now ; is it not an exquisite 
 colour? I feel sure Venus is passing through 
 the age of vegetation — if one could but see 
 the thick forests and interlacino: ferns! 
 Don't you wish we could annihilate time 
 and space, and wander at will in distant 
 worlds ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Amy, "but I can never feel 
 so sure as you and Lionel do about those 
 distant worlds — and — I don't know how to 
 express myself — but the immensity frightens 
 me — I think I would rather believe that 
 we, on this earth, were the only created 
 beings. The other idea makes one feel so 
 lost — so nothing — " 
 
 " Well, I don't think that idea at all de- 
 pressing," said Beatrice; " the less important
 
 248 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 we are, the better ; the less we think of our- 
 selves and our own trivialities, the happier 
 we shall be." 
 
 At this moment the garden-gate opened ; 
 there was the tramp of a man's feet on the 
 gravel, and instantaneously Amy and Bea- 
 trice started forward, exclaiming respec- 
 tively, " Lionel!" " Mr. Constable!" 
 
 " What has brought you here before your 
 time, Lionel?" asked Amy, after the first 
 excitement of welcoming her brother had 
 passed. 
 
 "Only that the weather was knocking 
 me up, and gave me an excuse for coming 
 down a few days earlier. I only deter- 
 mined upon my journey last night, so I did 
 not think it worth while to ^vrite." 
 
 " You knocked up, Lionel ! I thought 
 nothing ever did you any harm. I hope 
 you are not really ill ? " 
 
 " 111 ! oh, no !" and LioneFs cheery voice 
 indicated that the injury his health had sus-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 249 
 
 tained had not been very important; ^'I 
 only felt sufficiently unlike myself to think 
 I was justified in taking a holiday, and I 
 feel recovered already." 
 
 Lionel moved towards the house to seek 
 his mother, and Amy ran after him, return- 
 ing, however, for Beatrice. But Beatrice 
 fancied the joy of the family meeting would 
 be more unrestrained without her, and 
 saying she would enter presently, she lin- 
 gered for a few minutes on the lawn. She 
 was truly glad to see Lionel Constable 
 again, and she felt as if, in him, she met an 
 old friend. During his absence she had 
 studied many of the books which he had 
 mentioned as his favourites, and her new 
 form of thought had been, unconsciously, 
 moulded by him. She longed to converse 
 with him, now that her ideas of life were so 
 greatly enlarged, and so much happier, now 
 that she felt she could understand him so 
 much better, and that she would no longer
 
 250 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 be so likely to shock him by cynical speeches. 
 
 As she stood thus, thinking about Lionel, 
 and the change in herself, his voice called 
 her name from the porch, and she hastened 
 to meet him. He looked at her rather in- 
 tently as she entered the house, and passed 
 into the lamp-light of the hall, as if desirous 
 of seeing if the past months had brought 
 any change to her countenance. 
 
 Yes : she was altered, and for the better ; 
 she looked at once calmer and more open 
 and candid — and the expression was no 
 fleeting one. When they were all seated at 
 tea, the light of happiness which illumined 
 her. features was still present ; and as she 
 joined in the familiar domestic chat of his 
 mother and Amy, Lionel felt a sudden thrill 
 of joy shoot through him, and experienced 
 an inexplicable longing to stay the present 
 moment in its flight. 
 
 Beatrice was, indeed, in radiant spirits, 
 all unlike the flighty animation of other
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 251 
 
 days ; and no staid devotee of propriety 
 could have been shocked with her now. 
 
 " Oh, mother," said Lionel, after he had 
 been laughing with the girls at some ludi- 
 crous experience they had been narrating, 
 " I must not forget to tell you that the 
 Collingwoods talk of paying you a visit. I 
 went down to Richmond to see our worthy 
 cousin, and found him in a state of delight 
 with his new wife ; and he told me you had 
 given them a general invitation, which they 
 thought of accepting shortly, on their way 
 to or from Scarborough." 
 
 "And so you saw Mrs. Colling wood! 
 What sort of person is she ? " 
 
 " Oh, wondrously agreeable and cordial : 
 not old, and not bad-looking. A little bit 
 of a woman ; rather too much of a talker. 
 I don't think you will do with her long, 
 mother — she will talk you to death." 
 
 " Then, I am sure, I wonder how she and 
 Sam Colling^vood get on," said Mrs. Con-
 
 252 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 stable ; '^ for he is one of the most inveterate 
 talkers I know." 
 
 " I don't know how they manage in pri- 
 vate," said Lionel; ^'but in public, each 
 pounces upon a separate victim, and pours 
 forth a stream of never-ending talk. No, I 
 should not say a stream in both cases ; the 
 lady's is more of a torrent, broken occa- 
 sionally by obstructing rocks and stones — 
 namely, appeals to the listener, and short 
 pauses for his answers; whereas Mr. Col- 
 lingwood's talk flows in a smooth, level 
 stream, undisturbed by even the most start- 
 ling contradiction." 
 
 " Most wearisome people they must be," 
 said Amy. 
 
 "You must often escape to me during 
 their visit," said Beatrice. 
 
 " And leave my mother and me to wrestle 
 with them alone ? " said Lionel. " I call 
 that unkind. Miss Clyde." 
 
 " Doubtless, you will be able to support
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. • 253 
 
 Mrs. Constable through all difficulties," said 
 Beatrice ; " with your valuable help, she 
 will not require Amy's. Are your friends 
 lately married ? " 
 
 " Not very long ago," said Mrs. Constable; 
 " the lady was a widow, and Amy and I 
 have never seen her. Mr. Collingwood, my 
 relation, seemed a regular old bachelor, and 
 I was glad to hear of his marrying. From 
 all I can hear, he has made a suitable choice, 
 in spite of what Lionel says of the lady's 
 talking powers." 
 
 " I wonder," said Amy, " whether she 
 knows that he was once jilted." 
 
 ''Was he jilted in reality?" asked Lionel. 
 
 ''Yes; it is an old story," said Mrs. Con- 
 stable; "you have heard it, only you have 
 forgotten. He was engaged some years ago 
 to a young lady — much younger than him- 
 self — and she broke off the match after the 
 wedding-day was fixed, the people invited, 
 dresses ready, and everything arranged."
 
 254 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " She ought to have known her mind 
 rather sooner," said Lionel. 
 
 " She never really cared about him, I 
 understood," said Mrs. Constable ; " but 
 was persuaded by her friends to accept him, 
 and when the time drew near she felt, I 
 suppose, that she could not fulfil her en- 
 gagement." 
 
 " Well, I think, if I had let the affair go 
 so far, I should never have had courage to 
 break it off," said Amy; "fancy how one 
 would be talked about ! " 
 
 " It was her best plan, even then, to break 
 it off," said Beatrice. 
 
 "But when the marriage was so near, 
 one would have felt so bound, I think," said 
 Amy. 
 
 "No enorao^ement should bind me," said 
 Beatrice, " if I found I could not love the 
 man I had promised to marry. It would 
 be better to bear any amount of blame from 
 the world than to let the knot become irre-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 255 
 
 vocable. After marriage there is no escape.'' 
 
 She spoke earnestly, and at the last words 
 her voice sank into a low, impressive tone. 
 She seemed as if she had forgotten her 
 auditors, and her eyes had a far-looking, 
 wild gaze, as if she were contemplating some 
 imaginary scene with dread and repugnance. 
 Lionel's glance was fixed upon her, and as 
 she became conscious of it, she o-ave a half- 
 shudder, and recalled her senses to common 
 life again. 
 
 " Talking of marriages," said Lionel, after 
 a pause, during which he had been musing 
 upon the jDerplexing changes in Beatrice's 
 manner; ''is not that of Helen Lyttelton 
 and Tom Hey wood about to be celebrated ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Amy; "the day is all but 
 fixed. You will come in for that wedding, 
 and, of course, it will be a grand afi*air. I 
 know I am to be a bridesmaid, and you, 
 Beatrice, are to be asked." 
 
 " I hope not," said Beatrice, hastily.
 
 256 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "Have you been a bridesmaid so often 
 already, that you fear to lose your chance 
 of being a bride by filling the ofiice again ? " 
 asked Lionel. 
 
 "No," said Beatrice; "but I have an 
 invincible repugnance to the thing." Then 
 more lightly, she added, " We have been so 
 quiet lately, that one shrinks from being 
 disturbed in any way, and made to think 
 of dress and gaiety." 
 
 " You are changed, then, since I first 
 knew you," said Lionel; "at that time you 
 were ready to undergo any amount of 
 fatigue in the service of society." 
 
 " Yes," returned Beatrice, with a slight 
 blush ; " but I never have continued six 
 months in the same frame of mind, and I 
 don't suppose I ever shall." 
 
 " Perhaps you have also changed some 
 notions which I considered heretical," said 
 Lionel, in a low voice. 
 
 " I cannot bear cross-questioning," Bea-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 257 
 
 trice replied aloud, and she proceeded to ask 
 his opinion of a book about which she and 
 Amy had differed. 
 
 The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, 
 and the carriage for Beatrice arrived too 
 soon to suit any one. Lionel and Amy went 
 with her to the gate, and the night was so 
 lovely that it was proposed they should all 
 walk a little way down the road, sending 
 the carriage forward to wait at a certain 
 point." 
 
 This walk was not the only one the two 
 took together, and in which the conversa- 
 tion, though not absolutely exclusive be- 
 tween Beatrice and Lionel, was yet mainly 
 conducted by them, every remark made by 
 either of them being unconsciously directed 
 to the other. 
 
 Three weeks passed — weeks which, in one 
 sense, seemed to fly like magic, and in 
 another to extend into years, so full they 
 were of life and vivid sensation. It was 
 
 VOL. I. S
 
 258 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 glorious weather, and Beatrice lived much 
 out of doors. Lionel had a horse, and he 
 hired a pony for Amy, employing himself 
 industriously in teaching her to ride. Na- 
 turally he and his sister often joined the 
 Clydes, and thus added to the opportunities 
 which he and Beatrice enjoyed of culti- 
 vating a friendship. 
 
 Mr. Clyde, satisfied with the alteration 
 in his daughter's manner, saw her intimacy 
 with Lionel without fear; the topics dis- 
 cussed by the two, in his hearing, were of 
 so elevated a nature that anything ap- 
 proaching flirtation appeared utterly incon- 
 gruous with them, and he, like the parties 
 concerned, was lulled into carelessness. 
 
 One evening, they were all returning 
 home from a long ride, and Amy and Mr. 
 Clyde were a little in advance of the other 
 two. Beatrice had just been expatiating 
 upon her present favourite theory — the 
 nothingness of the individual, the grandeur
 
 Measure for measure. 259 
 
 of the universal, carrying it so far as to 
 make each separate life, with its joys and 
 sorrows, its loves and hatreds, appear of no 
 importance. She had first gathered the 
 notion from Lionel, but had worked it out 
 far beyond his intentions. 
 
 " You are getting rather too philosophical 
 for my sympathies. Miss Clyde," he said, 
 with a slight air of annoyance ; " according 
 to you, every particular affection has no 
 worth, and one's own happiness, and the 
 happiness of other people, subjects of perfect 
 indifference; in short, if you were followed, 
 all that makes the grace and glory of life 
 would be at an end; there would be no 
 more love — no more friendship ; nothing 
 but a barren sentiment of good- will towards 
 the whole universe, so wide as to be lost in 
 the immensity of the circle it made." 
 
 " I think one might still feel friendship," 
 said Beatrice, "though one's happiness 
 would not be bound up in it." 
 
 s2
 
 260 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " You would not care, for instance, if 
 your friend were to die, or if an irrevocable 
 fate were to separate you — you would still 
 rejoice in the grandeur of the universe, in 
 the knowledge that there existed thousands 
 as good as the friend you had lost." 
 
 Lionel spoke impatiently, almost bitterly 
 — as Beatrice had never heard him speak 
 before. 
 
 ^^You twist my words strangely," she 
 answered ; "I should not forget a friend I 
 had lost, but I should not, I hope, be un- 
 happy; the knowledge that such a being 
 existed would be a source of constant hap- 
 piness. To have enjoyed a real friendship 
 for a short time, ought to satisfy one for 
 the rest of life — must satisfy — I will not 
 have my faith taken from me." 
 
 Beatrice did not look at Lionel ; her gaze 
 was directed upwards, and there was a rapt 
 expression of enthusiasm on her face. 
 
 " I fear your doctrines are too cold for
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 261 
 
 me," said Lionel, giving her a glance of 
 involuntary admiration, which she could 
 not but feel ; "I like something more tan- 
 gible, even in friendship, than you do ; 
 separation is a bitter trial, and I fancy, 
 where your feelings were really roused, you 
 would find it so. Even to lose your 
 favourite Sultan would try your equani- 
 mity a little;" and Lionel, as he spoke, 
 drew nearer to Beatrice, and patted the 
 sleek neck of the horse she rode. 
 
 " One's affection for an animal is so dif- 
 ferent," said Beatrice; " one imagines that 
 it perishes utterly, though I am often in- 
 clined to doubt even that." 
 
 "Poor Sultan! he appreciates my atten- 
 tions," said Lionel, continuing to pat and 
 stroke the animal, at once gentle and 
 spirited, as a lady's steed should be. A sin- 
 gular sensation of pleasure shot through 
 Beatrice at that instant ; she knew not why 
 it was so, but to feel that Lionel Constable
 
 262 ]!p3ASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 loved and caressed her horse, filled her with 
 strange satisfaction. 
 
 " Poor old fellow!" pursued Lionel, " little 
 you know what a stoical, hard-hearted mis- 
 tress you have got — a philosophical lady, 
 so general in her affections that she has no 
 especial love to bestow upon you or any 
 one. She only admires the abstract notion 
 of a horse ; you, the individual animal, are 
 nothing to her ; when you die, and 'go to 
 your place,' she will rejoice in knowing that 
 your abstract virtues still exist in other 
 horses. You will never be regretted — only 
 perhaps a faint memory of the good rides 
 she has had on your back will remain — no 
 longing to see you again — no sense of loss — 
 alas! alas! for you, wretched old Sultan!" 
 
 " How can you talk such rubbish?" said 
 Beatrice ; "I am sure I thought you shared 
 all the ideas I have just been expressing; 
 now you wilfully misunderstand me, and 
 turn my words to ridicule."
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 263 
 
 " Not ridicule," said Lionel, " the matter 
 is too serious for ridicule, or rather would 
 be, if I thought you really meant to bring 
 down your ideas to practice." 
 
 " But if you don't believe I should — if 
 you think me too womanish to do so — you 
 must be ridiculing me?" 
 
 " No," said Lionel, "it was certainly not 
 ridicule which prompted my words — but 
 perhaps, if I try to explain what it was, I 
 shall make matters worse." 
 
 He checked himself suddenly, and Bea- 
 trice took advantage of the pause to make 
 an observation on the beauty of the sunset, 
 whilst, almost at the same instant, she and 
 Lionel, by mutual consent, quickened their 
 speed so as to overtake the others, and the 
 rest of the ride offered no opportunity for 
 a renewal of their tete-a-tete. 
 
 Lionel sat up that night long after his 
 mother and sister had retired, asking him- 
 self for the first time the reason of his
 
 264 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 increasing pleasure in being with Beatrice 
 Clyde. Was that which he felt friendship? 
 Could he bear to share her regard with 
 others? Did he not rather demand some 
 exclusive feeling for himself alone? And 
 what did he really like in her? Was she, 
 from all he had seen, all he had heard of 
 her, the woman whom he could wish to 
 make his wife? She was odd, wild, flighty; 
 she had been an atrocious flirt; she might 
 again become one, if the whim seized her. 
 She had been condemned by women whom 
 he respected, as well as abused by women 
 whom he despised. She was talked of by 
 men in a way in which he could not have 
 endured to hear his own sister mentioned. 
 She had no feeling for him — she afl'ected to 
 be incapable of feeling at all; and if she 
 were not, for anything he knew, she might 
 be separated from him by the fetters of 
 another attachment. She was encompassed 
 by mystery — had he not himself beheld her
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 2G5 
 
 a prey to uncontrollable emotion, with, 
 apparently, no adequate cause ; had he not 
 seen her frightfully agitated by the mere 
 vision of a man with whom it was unlikely 
 she could have any connection? 
 
 Yet — in spite of these considerations — in 
 spite of wisdom, prudence, and the world's 
 judgment — Lionel could not close his eyes 
 to the fact that she was the woman of all 
 women for him — that such as she was, 
 with her virtues, and with her faults, she was 
 the one who, in all his life, had most 
 charmed his fancy and gratified his in- 
 tellect — the one who could satisfy his heart. 
 
 He had lately seen in her so much to 
 approve as well as to admire, and many 
 important sympathies existed between them. 
 Could he resolve to let those sympathies 
 die away? Could he be contented to re- 
 main the mere acquaintance? Friendship 
 alone was, he owned to himself, out of the 
 question ; a hundred signs had convinced
 
 266 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 hiiTi, within the last few days, that between 
 him and Beatrice simple friendship could 
 never exist ; he, at any rate, could not be 
 satisfied without something more. He was 
 growing jealous of her looks and tones; 
 anxious to make her think of him rather 
 than of the subjects discussed ; impatient 
 when hearing her blamed ; feeling as if she 
 were a part of him — as if to speak of her 
 disparagingly were a profanity which he 
 must avenge. 
 
 And then the thought that she might be 
 blamed with some degree of justice came 
 across him — it stung him to the quick to 
 feel that she was not faultless — the being 
 whom he had, in imagination, invested with 
 the highest truth, purity, and goodness — 
 she must possess them ; he would believe in 
 her against the whole world, and yet — 
 
 A coquette she had been called — a heart- 
 less woman — the very things he most de- 
 tested, and he could not gainsay them.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 267 
 
 True, of late public opinion had altered 
 considerably respecting Beatrice; ladies had 
 now decided that Miss Clyde had cast aside 
 many of her flirting ways, that she was 
 more agreeable in society, and really im- 
 proved upon acquaintance! Lionel smiled 
 sarcastically as he recalled this sentence, 
 which he had heard repeated to his mother 
 that very morning. To think that he 
 should attach importance to such trash! — 
 what one woman said of another who was 
 her superior in everything — beauty, mind, 
 heart — yes, heart! Beatrice had a heart — a 
 warm and faithful one, he felt assured, if 
 only she gave it fair play. She could feel 
 aff'ection, tenderness, passion — he could read 
 the truth in her eye, and in her mobile face 
 — she could love — ah! how she could love 
 the man who should have power to wake 
 her dormant heart! 
 
 But if thus richly dowered by nature, 
 whence came that discord which ran
 
 268 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 through her whole being, which had first 
 betrayed itself in the cynical turn of her 
 speeches, and in the inconsistent levity of 
 her behaviour ; which now still was visible 
 in her exaggerated love of calmness, and in 
 her struggle to fill her entire existence with 
 what was only suited to fill her intellect, 
 in striving to cast out the human from her 
 life? 
 
 Lionel, as is usual in such cases, arrived 
 at no conclusion; he lost himself in a reverie 
 upon Beatrice's real and imaginary qualities, 
 and fell asleep at length before he had de- 
 termined upon what should be his future 
 conduct regarding her.
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DEEPER AND DEEPER. 
 
 When Beatrice returned home, the first 
 sight that met her eyes as she entered her 
 room was a white tarlatane dress, trimmed 
 with mauve, held up by Larkins. 
 
 "Your dress has come. Miss," she said, 
 " and I fear it is a misfit. It does not look 
 at all like your figure — I can't think what 
 Madame has been about — and the broad 
 ribbons don't match the narrow ribbons, 
 and " 
 
 " Do put it away, Larkins," said Beatrice,
 
 270 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " I am too tired to attend to it;" and, push- 
 ing aside, rather impatiently, the flowing 
 skirts which impeded her progress, she 
 dashed forward to her favourite seat, the 
 ottoman in the window. Larkins, mut- 
 tering something about being ashamed to 
 turn out such a dress if she were 
 Madame, stowed away the offending gar- 
 ment into a wardrobe, and proceeded to 
 disencumber her young mistress of her 
 riding attire. 
 
 No sooner had Beatrice reached the 
 drawing-room than the subject of the dress 
 was brought forward by her mother; and 
 though she tried to feign some interest in 
 it, yet any one might have seen that it was 
 a topic from which she shrank. For the 
 white and mauve tarlatane was to be worn 
 at Helen Lyttelton's wedding, on which 
 occasion Beatrice had consented to act as 
 one of the bridesmaids. It was an office 
 for which she had a great objection, and
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 271 
 
 she would have declined, but for the de- 
 cided wish of her father and the entreaties 
 of her mother. 
 
 " Larkins is quite dissatisfied with the 
 make," Mrs. Clyde maundered on ; " she 
 declares she will have to alter it completely 
 before it will fit you. You ought to try it 
 on immediately." 
 
 '' I cannot to-night, mamma," answered 
 Beatrice, " I am too tired ; and as to what 
 Larkins says, you know she always finds 
 fault with a dress until she has altered it 
 in some way." 
 
 "AVell, I saw myself that it looked like a 
 sack," said Mrs. Clyde ; " and I wish they 
 had not chosen mauve. T don't think 
 it suits you at all — at any rate, not when 
 you look as pale as you have been looking 
 lately. You read too much — I told your 
 father so last night." 
 
 " Dear mamma, what does it signify, for 
 one day, whether the colour suits me or
 
 272 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 not? And I need not wear the mauve 
 again, if you dislike me in it. I am sure I 
 look upon the whole affair as an infliction, 
 and whether my dress is becoming or not is 
 of little consequence." 
 
 " But it is natural for me to wish you to 
 look well, and at any rate the dress ought 
 to fit, and all the ribbons to match. Have 
 you looked at them ? *' 
 
 "No, mamma," Beatrice began impa- 
 tiently ; and then, in a gentler tone, con- 
 tinued, " but I will bring them down, and 
 we will look at them together." 
 
 " It is no use now ; they will be worn by 
 daylight, and by daylight we ought to look 
 at them. And you are much too tired to 
 go running about the house ; I wish your 
 father would not take you those long rides — 
 they quite wear you out." 
 
 " Indeed, they do me good, mamma ; I 
 am much happier when I am riding than 
 at any time," said Beatrice.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 273 
 
 "Has Amy Constable got her dress yet?" 
 asked Mrs. Clyde. 
 
 " I did not ask her, mamma." 
 
 " She will look nice in mauve," pursued 
 Mrs. Clyde, " and so will Dora Lyttelton, I 
 dare say — no doubt she chose it on that 
 account." 
 
 " Well, mamma, if the bride's sister may 
 not have her choice in the matter, who 
 may ? " said Beatrice. 
 
 "I wonder whether those friends the 
 Constables expect will be here before the 
 wedding ? " said Mrs. Clyde. 
 
 " Yes, I believe so," said Beatrice, with a 
 stifled sigh. When would her mother leave 
 the subject of the wedding ! 
 
 "They will look very well, I think — 
 the bride and bridegroom I mean," said 
 Mrs. Clyde. " They are of suitable heights 
 to go together, and both good-looking — I 
 cannot bear to see a handsome woman and 
 a little, mean-looking man go together. 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 However, one cannot choose in sucli matters 
 — Ah ! Beatrice, I can fancy the kind of 
 man I should like to have seen your hus- 
 band." 
 
 " Dear mamma, I wish you would speak 
 of something else," said Beatrice, casting 
 aside her indifferent tone, and speaking 
 with real feeling ; '* you know how I dislike 
 this subject ; how earnestly I have wished 
 to avoid this wedding — do not make it 
 harder to me than need be." 
 
 She rose from her seat, went to the piano, 
 and occupied herself in playing such fanci- 
 ful, sad morqeaux as occurred to her, until 
 Mrs. Clyde said they made her melancholy, 
 when she ceased, and, taking a book, read 
 aloud till her mother retired to bed. 
 
 Beatrice was sitting alone in the draw- 
 inoj-room on the afternoon of the followino: 
 day ; her mother was lying down, her 
 father out, and she was refreshing herself, 
 after a morning spent in listening to Mrs.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 275 
 
 Clyde^s complaints on various subjects, by 
 reading one of the exquisite descriptions in 
 Humboldt's " Views of Nature." 
 
 The afternoon was hot and sunny outside, 
 but the drawing-room was cool and shady, 
 and all around was that delicious lull 
 which makes itself felt on still summer 
 days, and is in itself an enjoyment. 
 
 It was an hour for dreaming and airy 
 castle-building; but Beatrice shrank from 
 dreaming as from torment, and castle-build- 
 ing had been almost unknown to her youth. 
 Yet even she found it difficult to keep up 
 her attention ; her eyes wandered from the 
 book, and her mental vision from the 
 gorgeous colouring bestowed by the grand 
 naturalist on distant scenes. The wooded 
 lanes of England rose before her, and the 
 words of her companion in her last ride 
 rang in her ears. 
 
 Gradually her hold relaxed of her book, 
 and it was only when it had really slipped 
 
 T 2
 
 276 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 from her grasp that her mind returned to 
 its duty. She seized the volume again, and 
 compelled herself to read. She contrived 
 to interest herself once more in her old 
 favourite, and she started in some surprise 
 when Lionel Constable entered the room. 
 It was so seldom that he called without his 
 sister, that he seemed to think his coming 
 required explanation. He had brought a 
 piece of music which Amy wished to re- 
 turn ; she w^as not able to come herself, as 
 the expected visitors, Mr. and Mrs. Colling- 
 wood, were to arrive that evening. 
 
 " I interrupted your studies, I fear," said 
 Lionel, glancing at the book which Beatrice 
 had placed on the little work-table near 
 her. 
 
 " Not very deep ones," she said. 
 
 " I don't know that — Humboldt requires 
 some attention, and a sultry afternoon like 
 this is more fitted for dreaming over the 
 ' Lotus-eaters' than an3^tliing else — that is,
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 277 
 
 for people who are not compelled to work." 
 
 " If one really could become a Lotus- 
 eater," said Beatrice, with a rather Aveary 
 sigh; "but as one cannot, reading about 
 them is tantalizing." 
 
 " ^ There is no joy but calm;* do you 
 agree with that?" asked Lionel. 
 
 " Almost," returned Beatrice ; " surely, 
 if one could be calm and not care about 
 any troubles and annoyances, a great deal 
 would be gained! I believe you think so 
 yourself; at least, you have often given me 
 that impression.'^ 
 
 " If I have done so, it is a very false 
 one," said Lionel; "and whatever theories 
 of the kind I may have had are all vanish- 
 ing. I fear, if you could see within my 
 heart at this moment, you would find much 
 that your philosophical mind would con- 
 demn." 
 
 " You are resuming your sarcastic manner 
 of last night, Mr. Constable," said Beatrice.
 
 278 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 "I do not mean it," said Lionel, with 
 earnestness; " I am speaking what I really 
 feel, and feel with pain. I am becoming 
 aware that you and 1 are looking two dif- 
 ferent ways, and that — but it is folly to 
 talk in this way — I did not mean to talk of 
 myself to-day; I know that the subject 
 cannot have much interest for you." 
 
 He rose as he spoke, and, walking to the 
 open piano, placed upon it the music he 
 had brought. 
 
 " May I look through your songs, to see 
 if there are any new onesl^" he said, taking 
 up a portfolio. 
 
 " If you like," said Beatrice, " but I do 
 not think you will find any; I have not 
 been singing much lately." 
 
 " You have been playing then, I sup- 
 pose? I see some piles of classical music 
 brought forward, which used to be at the 
 bottom of the stand." 
 
 " Yes, they have suited my mood better."
 
 MEASURE EOR MEASURE. 279 
 
 " I see you still have ^ The Canteeneer/ " 
 said Lionel, continuing his search; "is that 
 still a favourite ?" 
 
 *^ It never was a favourite with me," said 
 Beatrice, the colour flushing in her cheek. 
 ^' I very seldom sang it." 
 
 " I heard it once," said Lionel. 
 
 " Don't recall that night," interrupted 
 Beatrice ; "I was foolishly teased into sing- 
 ing it, feeling ashamed of myself all the 
 time. It is just one of those pert, flippant 
 songs which I detest, and I have never 
 sung it since. It is mortifying to think 
 that people one despises can have such 
 power over one ; making one do hateful 
 things out of spite." 
 
 Beatrice spoke warmly, in a quite dif- 
 ferent tone from the calm, measured one 
 she had recently striven to adopt; and 
 Lionel, had he felt less acutely with regard 
 to her, would have smiled at seeing how 
 her real nature would break throu^^h the
 
 280 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 husk in which she tried to shroud her- 
 self. 
 
 He did not reply ; he felt himself yield- 
 ing more and more to the glamour under 
 which Mrs. Carleton long ago had pre- 
 dicted he would fall, and he dreaded speak- 
 ing hasty words which he might afterwards 
 repent. For Lionel could not, even now, 
 trust his judgment of Beatrice, and he was 
 too proud to let love conquer reason. She 
 was so mysterious ; and until he had solved 
 the mystery around and within her, he 
 would not own to her his thraldom, nay, 
 he would not permit himself to love her. 
 
 Yet, even when saying this to himself, a 
 glance at her face was enough to overcome 
 his resolution ; he longed, with all the strong 
 tenderness of a nature which has never 
 truly loved before, to take her to his heart, 
 to win from her the secret grief which was 
 warping her really sweet and noble cha- 
 racter, and to lead her, through his deep,
 
 MEASUKE FOR MEASURE. 281 
 
 true love, to happiness, and harmony with 
 herself and the whole world. 
 
 But would his love have power to do 
 that ? The doubt smote him with a chilling 
 fear. — No ! as he had said, they were look- 
 ing two ways, and he could neither guess 
 the riddle which Beatrice's changing fea- 
 tures presented, nor charm away the gloom 
 that often crossed and contracted a brow 
 that should have been as open as it was 
 fair. 
 
 Her voice, asking some indifferent ques- 
 tion, roused him from his momentary 
 thoughtfulness, and he answered her in a 
 manner that betrayed some absence of mind. 
 An air of constraint rested over the remain- 
 der of the interview ; and Beatrice, finding 
 Lionel so unusually grave and silent, won- 
 dered he did not leave. Yet he lingered, 
 and even after he had risen to depart, 
 lengthened out the moments by observa- 
 tions about the flowers in the stand, and
 
 282 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 such-like trifles — things for which he ridi- 
 culed himself afterwards, and which he 
 imagined would call forth the secret sar- 
 casm of Beatrice. He went away feeling 
 that he was a fool and a simpleton, and 
 scorning himself for being thus the sport of 
 a passion which his mind could not entirely 
 approve.
 
 283 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THEY SAY SO. 
 
 Beatrice did not see either Amy or Lionel 
 Constable until the day of Helen Lyttel- 
 ton's wedding, except for a few moments 
 during a morning call she made on Mrs. 
 CoUingwood, and she could only conclude 
 that their attention was entirely occupied 
 by their visitors. She was both dull and 
 unhappy, and sometimes oppressed by a 
 morbid fancy that Mrs. Constable disap- 
 proved of her, and was exerting her in- 
 fluence to prevent too much intimacy be- 
 tween Lionel and herself.
 
 284 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Mrs. Clyde, too, persisted in saying 
 every evening that she wondered Mrs. 
 Collingwood had not returned the visit, 
 and that it was a long time since Amy had 
 been at the Palace. In want of a new 
 sensation, she had looked forward to seeing 
 a fresh face ; and as the days passed and no 
 Mrs. Collingwood appeared, she began to 
 fancy that she was slighted, or, in other 
 moods, to accuse Beatrice of not having 
 left her card. 
 
 Her mother's grumbling increased the 
 Tin comfortable feelings of Beatrice, and with 
 intense pain she yielded to the thought that 
 she was forgotten by her friends at the 
 Laurels. 
 
 Day by day, too, she shrank more and more 
 from the prospect of the wedding pageant 
 in which she was to perform a part ; and 
 she was not allowed to fororet it for a long 
 time together, since Larkins gave her little 
 peace about her costume.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 285 
 
 "There, miss, your dress looks like you 
 now," said the waiting-maid, after the last 
 stitch of her alterations had been accom- 
 plished ; " and the ribbons match now ; but 
 no mortal power knows what a hunt I had 
 in Railton after those narrow ones. This, 
 miss, you see, matches the pattern Miss 
 Lyttleton gave you. Where the person's 
 eyes were who chose the other, it passes my 
 capacity to conceive. But if I were you I 
 would let madame know my mind." 
 
 "Thank you, Larkins, it will do very 
 nicely now," said Beatrice, languidly; "you 
 have managed very well." 
 
 "Mrs. Clyde was lamenting, miss, that 
 the colour was mauve ; and, indeed, I must 
 say it is not your colour. Mrs. Lyttelton's 
 maid told me Miss Dora looked sweet in 
 hers. They say at the House that her wed- 
 ding will be next. However, it is not for 
 me to talk ; no doubt you, miss, are better 
 informed, but one cannot help hearing
 
 286 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 reports. This is sucli a place, to be sure, for 
 scandal." 
 
 *' Indeed, I do not know what you are 
 talking of, Larkins," said Beatrice. 
 
 " No ! really, miss, I am surprised, so 
 intimate as you are with Miss Constable. 
 But, indeed, I have no right to say it for a 
 fact, only Mr. Constable does go to the 
 House a great deal, and Miss Dora has 
 always been a favourite with Mrs. Consta- 
 ble, and she, they say, is one to have a 
 voice in the matter." 
 
 " Most likely," said Beatrice, and she left 
 the room. 
 
 She did not know what vexed her in the 
 words she had heard, and she was accus- 
 tomed to receive all the communications of 
 Larkins with serene contempt. There was 
 no reason why she should break through 
 the rule now ; what did it signify to her 
 whether or not the news were true ? Why 
 should not Lionel Constable marry Dora 
 Ly ttelton ?
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 287 
 
 But Beatrice checked this thought as it 
 arose, and her cheek flushed with some- 
 thing like anger — she had a right, the right 
 of friendship, to care for that which con- 
 cerned Lionel Constable; a right to be 
 annoyed at the mere supposition of his 
 lowering himself to the level of Dora Lyttel- 
 ton. Dora, who was mean, narrow, and 
 oh ! how unworthy in every sense, com- 
 pared with him ! — how utterly incapable of 
 appreciating his best qualities ! 
 
 Truly she was justified in shrinking 
 from the prospect of ever seeing him mated 
 with one like Dora Lyttelton. Yet the idea 
 could not be cast away as improbable ; men 
 did not judge women as women judged 
 women, and Dora possessed many attrac- 
 tions — arts, too, which might work upon 
 one so inclined to look favourably upon his 
 fellow-creatures, and so little hardened or 
 soured even by a considerable knowledge of 
 the world as she believed Lionel to be.
 
 288 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 Dora, besides, was loved by Mrs. Con- 
 stable, who had undoubted influence over 
 her son ; surrounding circumstances were 
 favourable, and altogether the match was 
 one that would be generally approved. 
 Beatrice remembered Lionel's silence when 
 she had referred to Dora, in speaking of 
 "The Canteeneer,". and she now bitterly 
 repented that she had let fall a word in dis- 
 praise of the woman whom he might love. 
 
 Love ! what was love ? — a mockery, a 
 vain phantom, called up in youth to fill the 
 void of lives that common duties and com- 
 mon interests could not satisfy. But no I — 
 if Lionel Constable loved, his could not be 
 an idle, evanescent feeling ; he had all the 
 high aspirations, the earnest purposes of a 
 man conscious of responsibility, and with a 
 definite career before him. Love to him 
 could be no plaything, seized to occupy a 
 vacant mind, to rest a wandering fancy : the 
 passion he experienced must be a real pas-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 289 
 
 sion, deep and true, like that she had read 
 of in former days, and half believed, in the 
 works of her favourite poets, but in which 
 she now desired to have no faith. For if it 
 really did exist — if it formed part of many 
 lives — how poor and meagre must that life 
 be which it did not, never could, enrich ! 
 
 Ah ! the old tortures were returning 
 — the old yearnings — the unsatisfied long- 
 ings. Rigid philosophy and widened views 
 were no longer availing. Beatrice gained 
 once more an accurate vision of the misery 
 of her actual human life — a glimpse of 
 missed happiness, a thrilling sense of the 
 joy that might have been hers — but that 
 was not now possible. 
 
 In addition to her present wretched and 
 contradictory feelings, Beatrice had before 
 her the misery of the approaching wedding; 
 and on the very morning of the day, after a 
 restless sleepless night, she went into her 
 mother's room with haggard eyes, to make 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 a final attempt at escape from a position 
 that was hateful to her. 
 
 " How silly you are, Beatrice!" said Mrs. 
 Clyde ; "I never knew any one object to 
 being a bridesmaid, and wearing a pretty 
 dress before — to be sure it is not pretty — 
 there is that to be said for you. I know 1 
 would rather stay away from a place myself, 
 than be obliged to go in maize, and that 
 horrid mauve is j ust as bad for you. But you 
 cannot avoid it — it would be so rude ; and I 
 really think, when Miss Lyttelton had so 
 many older friends, it was pointedly atten- 
 tive to choose you." 
 
 "But, mamma, it is so disagreeable to 
 me — I cannot bear to take my place 
 amongst those young girls — " 
 
 " Oh, that is nonsense ! Now, Beatrice, 
 how you Avill make yourself miserable about 
 trifles ! If I had done so, with my weak 
 health, I should have been in the grave be- 
 fore this time. I am sure all your reading
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 291 
 
 and philosophizing might have given you 
 some strength of mind. I should like to 
 know if I have not had as much to bear as 
 you — indeed, more, I am sure — and then 
 you and your father are for ever harassing 
 me with your troubles." 
 
 " Dear mamma, I am very sorry," said 
 Beatrice, her eyes filling with tears, for she 
 was weak, and easily unnerved that morn- 
 ing; "but if I might only send an excuse — I 
 do not feel well, really." 
 
 "You look ill enough, certainly," said 
 Mrs. Clyde, in a dissatisfied tone; " but still 
 I cannot hear of your giving way. Have 
 not I sat up, and talked to people to please 
 your father, many a time when my poor 
 back was breaking ? And you need not 
 dress just yet — why, it is quite early — Lar- 
 kins has not brought me my tea yet. Just 
 go and lie down a little, and I will send 
 Larkins to you with some spirits of laven- 
 der — and there is some new Eau-de-Cologne 
 
 u 2
 
 292 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 on my dressing-table. Larkins opened it 
 yesterday, and it is quite different from 
 that wretched stuff you brought me from 
 Railton. You may lie down on my couch if 
 you like, and have some tea." 
 
 " Thank you, mamma,'' said Beatrice, 
 hopelessly, " but I would rather go to my 
 own room." 
 
 When she re-appeared before her mother, 
 some time later, in the obnoxious costume, 
 Mrs. Clyde spoke more peevishly than ever ; 
 and Larkins's " After all, ma'am. Miss 
 Clyde does not look so bad," was only 
 answered by, 
 
 " I don't know where your eyes are then, 
 Larkins — of course nothing can alter good 
 features, but otherwise she looks a fright. 
 There, go away, child, you will be late, and 
 do try to brighten yourself up a little." 
 
 Beatrice however, in spite of her mothcjr's 
 disapproval, excited sufficient admiration 
 when she stood amidst the group of brides- 
 maids.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 293 
 
 They were all more or less good-look- 
 ing, but her figure alone was enough to 
 make her distinguished above the others, 
 though the chosen colour was decidedly as 
 little calculated to set off her attractions, as 
 it was pre-eminently becoming to Dora 
 Lyttelton. 
 
 The bride looked well and handsome in 
 white silk and lace veil, and the wedding 
 was pronounced a very pretty one. 
 
 Beatrice was angry with herself for 
 watching Lionel's movements, yet she caught 
 herself continually observing him. She saw 
 that after the ceremony, during which she 
 had been too much absorbed by her painful 
 conflicting feelings to raise her eyes, he 
 drew near Dora, and that at breakfast he 
 was placed next her. 
 
 She fancied, also, that he rather avoided 
 her ; but even if he did, she had no right to 
 be offended. She considered him her 
 friend, and surely that was but a poor friend-
 
 294 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 ship which could ever be exacting. Lionel 
 had frequent opportunities of carrying on 
 discussions of real, deep interest with her ; 
 the mere small-talk of society was not worth 
 caring about ; surely she could give that up 
 to another without either pain or disturb- 
 ance. 
 
 Besides — and Beatrice drew herself up 
 proudly at the thought — the notice of any 
 man, even of Lionel Constable, was not — - 
 should not be a matter of overwhelming im- 
 portance to her. So she turned, and laughed 
 and talked with her neighbour. Colonel 
 Morley, who had just begun to think her 
 rather dreamy and abstracted. 
 
 According to a custom in that part of the 
 country, towards the end of the breakfast, 
 a small bride-cake, equally divided, was 
 handed about amongst the bridesmaids, 
 each of whom was expected to take a por- 
 tion. 
 
 A ring and a sixpence were mystically
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 295 
 
 enclosed, and she who drew the morsel con- 
 taining the ring was to be the next bride, 
 whilst the possessor of the sixpence was 
 condemned to lead a life of single blessed- 
 ness. 
 
 The ring fell to Beatrice, but she would 
 have concealed the fact, had not Colonel 
 Morley rendered it impossible by his excla- 
 mation. She blushed, trembled, and then 
 turned pale, betraying altogether an emo- 
 tion so little accounted for by the occasion, 
 that curious conjectures were formed by 
 many people as to the cause of her singular 
 behaviour. 
 
 Long after she had collected herself, and 
 was again talking gail}- with Colonel Mor- 
 ley, her neighbours were occupied in dis- 
 cussing the subject. 
 
 " I should not wonder if Miss Clyde is 
 not secretly engaged to some one," said Miss 
 Heywood, one of the bridesmaids, to Fred 
 Lyttelton ; ''or else she was most affected
 
 296 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 about the ring. Have you any idea that 
 she is engaged ? " 
 
 ^' I don't know, I am sure," returned 
 Fred, who was still, in a meek, unexpectant 
 manner, devoted to Beatrice ; " and for my 
 part, I can't think she'll ever care for a 
 fellow at all. She's just the sort of girl to 
 make a lot of men go distracted about her, 
 and never care a rush for any of them." 
 
 "That is the description of a dreadful 
 flirt," said Miss Hey wood ; "I had heard 
 that was Miss Clyde's character before." 
 
 '' No, it's not that," said Fred ; " I don't 
 believe she is a flirt ; only women say so." 
 
 "That is too bad of you, Mr. Lyttelton; 
 as if we were all jealous. But surely there 
 was some afiair with a Captain Denbigh ? " 
 
 "Yes, he was desperately in love with 
 her no doubt, but she could not help that, 
 you know ; and he was never bitter against 
 her, though it was well known that he had 
 been refused. He was a fine fellow, Den-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 297 
 
 bigh ; a great loss to Railton. You see, 
 after the affair he took a dislike to the 
 place, so he exchanged with a brother 
 officer and went over to Ireland, where the 
 rest of the regiment is stationed, and now 
 he means to exchange into another regi- 
 ment going to India." 
 
 *' And all that for love of Miss Clyde ! 
 She must feel some compunction at driving 
 him out of the country." 
 
 " Oh, that is not why he is going to 
 India ; but he had always a fancy for the 
 country. And I heard from him the other 
 day, and he mentioned Miss Clyde most 
 handsomely — upon my word he did, and that 
 shows he bears no malice." 
 
 " You are speaking of Miss Clyde," put 
 in Mrs. Newton, who was Fred's other 
 neighbour ; " don't you think, Mr. Fred- 
 erick, she is looking rather pale this morn- 
 ing, and she flushes so, occasionally — I fear 
 she is not so strong as she used to be."
 
 298 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 " She blushed because she got the ring," 
 said Miss Heywood. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I saw that, and I wondered at 
 such a very self-possessed young person as 
 she is appearing so disconcerted, but I sup- 
 pose she had some particular cause. And 
 really I should not be surprised to hear of 
 her marrying any day ; indeed — as I often 
 say to Mr. Newton — it is a wonder such a 
 very fine young woman, with, no doubt, 
 the prospect of a fine fortune, should re- 
 main unmarried so long." 
 
 Speechifying stopped Mrs. Newton's re- 
 marks — nay, before the speech began, a 
 glance from her husband commanded si- 
 lence, for he was to be the first orator. He 
 proposed the health of the bride and bride- 
 groom, who were from his account paragons 
 of perfection ; diverging from the conside- 
 ration of the virtues of the bride to the 
 laudation of the excellencies and talents of 
 the whole Lyttelton family ; and, after ex-
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 209 
 
 patiating upon the probable future of the 
 young couple, fervently hoping, and, indeed, 
 feeling assured that Mrs. Heywood would 
 make as worthy a wife as her mother had 
 done. After conducting the whole family 
 into the valley of the shadow of death, and 
 out of it again, he wound up with a face- 
 tious hit at the eldest son, Fred, whom he 
 said he had long been endeavouring to per- 
 suade to follow his sister's example. 
 
 The latter portion of the speech had 
 little bearing upon the rest, but Fred was 
 always useful to Mr. Newton as a butt, and 
 he was much too good-natured, and his re- 
 lations too greatly impressed by Mr. New- 
 ton's plausibilities and flatteries, for any of 
 them ever to resent such behaviour. 
 
 Other speeches followed in quick succes- 
 sion, and were as dreamy and as stammer- 
 ing as is usual on such occasions ; and it 
 was a relief to most people when at length 
 the bride arose and retired to assume her
 
 300 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 travelling-costume. The guests formed dif- 
 ferent sets in the drawing-room, and Dora 
 Lyttelton, who had vanished with her 
 sister, soon re-appeared with marks of tears 
 upon her face, and went about from group 
 to group with elaborate courtesy, and with 
 an air that seemed to say — 
 
 " I am doing my duty, and though my 
 heart is breaking for the loss of a sister, I 
 shall persevere in it." 
 
 She looked very interesting, and the tear- 
 marks were not red enough to be disfigur- 
 ing. Beatrice felt irritated whenever she 
 glanced at Dora, and could not help won- 
 dering what Lionel was thinking of her. 
 She was heartily glad when the bridal 
 pair had driven away, and she was able 
 to return home. Lionel spoke to her 
 for the first time as he took her to the 
 carriage, but it was only to remind her that 
 she had promised him a valse in the even-
 
 MEASUKE EOR MEASURE. 301 
 
 She smiled, bowed, and drove oiF. Then 
 she threw herself languidly back in her 
 carriage, weary and sore at heart — incapable 
 of understanding her sensations, and cha- 
 fing against them. 
 
 Beatrice passed a great part of the after- 
 noon in giving her mother a detailed ac- 
 count of the wedding, and thus she had 
 scarcely time to analyse or brood over her 
 thoughts, till she went to dress for the 
 dance. She discarded the costume so dis- 
 approved by Mrs. Clyde, and appeared in a 
 dress of snowy white, with clusters of the 
 scarlet pomegranate in her hair. An ex- 
 quisite flush had replaced her paleness, and 
 she had never looked more brilliant than 
 when she displayed herself before the eyes 
 of her mother, previous to starting for Wyn- 
 thorpe House. 
 
 But Mrs. Clyde was in a contradictory 
 mood, and seemed as vexed with her 
 daughter now for looking well, as she had
 
 302 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 
 
 formerly been annoyed with her for look- 
 ing ill, 
 
 *' Well, good night, Beatrice, go and 
 enjoy yourself if you can," she said; "it is 
 no satisfaction to me to know you are ad- 
 mired ; it only makes your father angry. I 
 am sure your beauty is only a plague to 
 yourself and everyone about you." 
 
 Beatrice kissed her mother without 
 speaking, and went to the carriage. Hot 
 tears gathered in her eyes ; it seemed to her 
 this night as if her mind must give way 
 beneath the weight of the sufferings which 
 accumulated upon her. 
 
 The false calmness of the last six months 
 had deserted her — why, she knew not, but 
 she felt now that it was hollow and unreal ; 
 felt, too, as if some deeper grief than she 
 had yet experienced were about to over- 
 whelm her. She shrank from the future 
 with an inexplicable dread. She seemed to 
 be trembling on the verge of a precipice.
 
 MEASURE FOR MEASURE. 303 
 
 and to be irresistibly led on by some power 
 exterior to herself, to do deeds and think 
 thoughts which filled her with terror. 
 
 END OF YOL. I. 
 
 K. BORN, PRINTER, GLOUCKSTER STREET, REGENT S PARK.
 
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