1 
 
 THE NEW NOVEL. J^ 
 
 Now Ready at all the Librariea, in Three Vols., ^ 
 
 r^UARDIANS and WARDS ; or, SIMPLICITY 
 VX and FASCINATION. By ANNIE BEALE, Author 
 of " The Vale of Towey." 
 
 " As pleasant a novel as one would wish to read on a winter's 
 day. It is a well dra'vn picture of Kn^lish domestic life, the 
 characters are well contrasted, and the sitnations and incidents 
 are interesting. Aunt Betsy and Uncle Timothy are our 
 favourites. Jessie, the mother-sister to her family, is charm- 
 ing."— A then. Teum. 
 
 London : Richard Bentley, New Burlinjrton-street. 
 
 f 
 
 E. LJoyd, Esq 
 
 RHAGATT, 
 
 COEWEN, 
 
 IV. w. 
 
 L I B RARY 
 
 OF THL 
 
 U N IVLRSITY 
 
 or ILLI NOIS 
 
 823 
 B3655 
 
 v.l
 
 ^^
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION 
 
 OB, 
 
 GUARDIANS AND WARDS. 
 
 By ANNE BEALE, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 'THE BAROIfET's FAMILY,' 'THE VALE OF THE TOWET,' ETC. ETC. 
 
 ' This small inheritance my father left me 
 Contenteth me, and is worth a monarchy. 
 I seek not to wax great by others' waning. 
 Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy ; 
 Sufficeth, that I have maintains my state. 
 And sends the poor well pleased from my gate." 
 
 Henry VI. Part II. 
 
 m THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDOISr : 
 
 RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 
 
 1855.
 
 PRINTED Br 
 
 JOH>' EDWARD TAYLOR, LITTLE QUEEN STREET, 
 
 LINCOLN'S INN EIELDS.
 
 TO MY MOTHER, 
 
 WHO WILL EEAD WITH INDULGENCE 
 
 AND EECOGNIZE, AS SHE BEADS, MANY FAMILIAR SCENES, 
 "1 • 
 
 
 E!jis ^torg xs Unscriiieti, 
 
 IN TOKEN OE THE LOVE AND G-EATITUDB 
 
 HER AEFECTIONATE DAUGHTER, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Llandilo, Cakmarthenshiee, 
 September, 1855. 
 
 r
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " Bom in one week, and in one font baptized 
 On the same festal day, they grew together, 
 And their first tottering steps were hand in hand, 
 While the two fathers, in half-earnest sport, 
 Betrothed them to each other." 
 
 Haetley Coleridge. 
 
 I MUST begin my story by requesting the Reader to 
 go back with me over some twenty or thirty years 
 already trodden by the foot of Time ; and to walk 
 with me to the door of a snug and pretty house^, 
 situated about a mile from a small market town 
 in the county of Somerset. The evening is just 
 beginning to close in^ as we turn off from the turn- 
 pike-road, cross a stile, and pass through a fine 
 field of corn, ready for the sickle. Brightly shine 
 the blue corn-flowers and ruddy poppies amongst 
 the golden ears, and thickly twines the wild 
 clematis in the green hedgerow. This neat gate, 
 at the bottom of the field, leads us into a large 
 orchard, full of all kinds of ripe apples, waiting for 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 ^ SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 the hungiy jaws of the cider-mill; in the midst is 
 a huge round pigeon-house, towards which pigeons, 
 are flocking, as to their dormitory. We pass the 
 well perforated pigeon-house, and, emerging from 
 the orchard through another neat gate, circum- 
 navigate a pond full of sleepy ducks and geese, 
 cross the road, and reach an ornamental wicket, 
 flanked by a trim hedge of laurel and privet. We 
 venture through this inviting entrance, and find 
 ourselves in a small court, in front of a low-roofed 
 thatched house, covered with roses and Virginian 
 creeper, into whose latticed windows we long to 
 peep, sure of finding peace and plenty within. 
 Before knocking at the door, we glance round us, 
 and see another ornamental wicket-gate opposite 
 us, dividing more trim hedges of laurel and privet, 
 through which we spy a straight gravel walk, and 
 the heads of sunfiowers, hollyhocks, and dahlias, 
 that stand up proudly to look at the setting sun 
 through some dark yew-trees at the bottom of the 
 path. We just peep over the hedge, into the 
 prettiest of gardens; but politeness prevents our 
 being too inquisitive. 
 
 From certain rural sounds, of men whistling, 
 cattle lowing, horses tramping, poultry cackling, 
 and human voices answering human voices, we feel 
 convinced that there must be a large farm-yard
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 3 
 
 somewhere at the back_, but we are not permitted 
 to see any of the detail here in the front. We 
 have nothing but the trim hedges^ the towering 
 flowers_, a glimpse of a green meadow on the left, 
 and on the right, the top of the huge pigeon-house 
 surmounted by some splendid elms, that give wel- 
 come to a colony of rooks, cawing themselves to 
 rest. 
 
 We knock at the door, and are admitted by a 
 rosy country girl into a passage, where is a stand 
 of geraniums, and thence conducted into a large 
 hall, where we will sit down in a corner, invisible 
 as ghosts by daylight, and look about us. 
 
 This hall is a substantial apartment, panelled 
 with black oak. Heavy oaken rafters form the 
 ceiling, and polished oaken planks the floor ; over 
 the middle of the latter is a piece of Indian mat- 
 ting. An oaken chimney corner usurps a third of 
 one side of the room, on the hearth of which are 
 placed two bright steel dogs, or andirons. Across 
 these dogs lie big logs of wood, that burn with all 
 their hearts, and as if they took a pleasure in en- 
 livening by their cheerful flames the party assem- 
 bled near them. 
 
 Seated at a table, with a very large work-box 
 open before her, and a basket containing all kinds 
 of stockings by her side, sits a young girl, engaged 
 
 b2
 
 4 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 in sewing a button on a boy's waistcoat. She may 
 be about sixteen or seventeen years old, and looks 
 very smiling and good-tempered, despite the hard 
 labour she finds it to force a thick needle through a 
 thicker cloth into the thickest and most obdurate 
 of buttons. By her side, minutely examining the 
 contents of her work-box, sits a youth about her 
 own age, of a grave and sedate countenance ; and 
 opposite the pair, a curly-headed, pale little boy, 
 busily occupied in covering a piece of paper with 
 hieroglyphical pencil-marks. In a large green chair 
 is a jolly, sunburnt, elderly man, smoking a pipe. 
 He has settled himself in one chimney corner, 
 from whence he looks complacently about him; 
 whilst in the opposite chimney corner sits a tall, 
 middle-aged woman, erect and stately, knitting 
 or knotting, or doing some curious ornamental 
 work, of twenty years ago. On a huge oak settle, 
 that stretches from one side of the chimney half 
 down the room, and partly encircles the whole 
 party with a protecting arm, are three children of 
 various ages. The eldest, a boy of about fifteen, is 
 reading, or seeming to read, but still listening to, 
 and occasionally joining in, the conversation of the 
 rest. As he leans carelessly over the arm of the 
 settle, to let the blaze from the fire fall upon his 
 book, an anxious, thoughtful expression steals over
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 5 
 
 his face, and makes him look too care-worn for his 
 years. 
 
 The other two children, a boy and girl, are 
 twins, and as much alike as twins are nsnally sup- 
 posed to be. They are remarkably handsome, and 
 apparently as remarkably idle, for a pile of lesson- 
 books lies unopened by the side of the boy, toge- 
 ther with a small unfinished boat; and near the 
 girl is a piece of needlework, with the needle and 
 thread hanging loosely upon it ; whilst the pair are 
 occupied in tying together a bunch of ripe corn- 
 ears, of unusually large growth, and occasionally 
 picking out a grain and eating it. When they 
 have finished this business, the boy rises, and 
 having called the attention of the party to the 
 size and splendour of his autumn bouquet, stands 
 upon a chair and fastens it by a string to the 
 mantelpiece, which, unlike our modern ones, is 
 nearer the ceiling by a yard than the floor. This 
 being achieved, he jumps down rather noisily, and 
 stumbles against the quiet possessor of the pipe, 
 who utters a growl ; then peeps over the shoulder 
 of the younger child at the table, and giving him 
 a hearty knock on the crown of his head, exclaims, 
 ^^ "Well done, Charley ! I declare if it isnH as like 
 as it can stare. Look, Captain Burford ! Aunty, 
 look ! If he hasn't made a capital likeness of Jessie 
 and Nelson ! "
 
 6 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 ^' Oh, Peter, how rough you are !" said Charley, 
 yielding up reluctantly the paper his brother had 
 seized upon, and rubbing dolorously the crown of 
 his head. 
 
 ^'^By Neptune, that^s not so bad V^ said Captain 
 Burford, handing the paper over to his opposite 
 neighbour, when he had examined it. " We must 
 make an artist of him, after all. What do you 
 think of your nephew, Miss Burton? Shall we 
 apprentice him to the arts V 
 
 " I do not think my poor brother would have 
 thought of apprenticing him to anything," replied 
 Miss Burton, looking at the paper through an eye- 
 glass ; ^^ I hope we are not fallen so low as that. 
 And as to an artist, he would as soon have thought 
 of making him a shoemaker." 
 
 Charley hung down his head, and Captain Bur- 
 ford laughed. 
 
 " And why not a shoemaker ?" he asked ; '' it is 
 a very respectable and useful profession, and it will 
 be ' all the same a hundred years hence,^ what he 
 is." 
 
 " You always put one down with that very un- 
 comfortable sentence," said Miss Burton with an 
 irritated voice. 
 
 '^Let me see the likeness," said Jessie, laying 
 aside the waistcoat. "Well, I declare, it is like
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 7 
 
 you, Nelson ; but if this is like me, I am certainly 
 no beauty." 
 
 " Oh, but you are a beauty, Jessie," exclaimed 
 Charley ; " you have such a nice smile." 
 
 " Oh, my dear," said Miss Burton, " it requires 
 something more than a smile to make a beauty," 
 and she drew herself up with a proud consciousness 
 of good looks. 
 
 "This really would be like you, Jessie," said 
 Nelson, " if it had the smile." 
 
 "Just give it to me," said Charley. "Now, 
 Jessie dear, laugh. Look again now, Nelson." 
 
 " That is capital !" said Nelson. " Why you are 
 a great genius, Charley, and no mistake." 
 
 The little boy smiled and blushed. The picture 
 was again handed round, and finally secured by 
 Nelson, who carefully put it in his pocket-book. 
 
 " Why don't you sketch me ?" asked the young 
 lady on the settle, speaking for the first time, and 
 putting herself in an attitude. 
 
 " You're not good-looking enough. Miss Anna," 
 immediately broke in the bookworm, also speaking 
 for the first time ; " is she, Aunt Betsey ?" 
 
 " Pynsent ! you always discourage that dear 
 child," whispered Aunt Betsey. " You know she 
 and Peter are the only ones who inherit the family 
 beauty."
 
 8 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Very complimentary !" said Pynsent ; and with 
 a shrug of his shoulders he resumed his book. 
 
 At this crisis the red cheeked servant-maid 
 came in with a letter^ which she presented to Aunt 
 Betsey. 
 
 " Why do you not bring the letters on a waiter, 
 Dinah ?" asked Aunt Betsey in a displeased tone 
 of voice. 
 
 " Iz zure, Ma^am," said Dinah, making a hasty 
 exit. 
 
 " Excuse me/' said Aunt Betsey, glancing round 
 apologetically, as she opened the letter and took up 
 the eye-glass. 
 
 " To be sure V^ said the Captain impatiently ; add- 
 ing to himself in an under-tone, " Why donH she 
 make haste?'' 
 
 All eyes were fixed on the letter, which seemed 
 only to cover one side of the sheet, though it took 
 a long time to read. 
 
 " So, Ma'am ?" at last suggested the Captain in- 
 terrogatively. 
 
 " I thought so," said Aunt Betsey majestically ; 
 "but you would insist on my writing. Nothing 
 satisfactory to be obtained from those sort of peo- 
 ple.'^ 
 
 " I suppose I may see it, as your co-guardian ?" 
 said the Captain.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 9 
 
 Aunt Betsey passed over the letter, and he read 
 it attentively, but speedily. 
 
 ^' Odds bobs, Madam !" lie said, when he had 
 finished, " what would you have ? why the good gen- 
 tleman olFers to educate one of the girls/^ 
 
 " Educate, indeed ! and for a governess ! what 
 would my dear brother — '' 
 
 " Your dear brother. Ma'am, and my good friend, 
 is, I am sorry to say, no more ; and we must con- 
 sult prudence, and look at things as they are. Co- 
 trustee number three, — Fm poetical, you see, — 
 what do you think of the matter?" 
 
 Here the Captain handed the letter to Jessie, 
 who read it in her turn. She looked perplexed at 
 the disputants, but said, '^ Why, Aunty, it really is 
 very kind. He says not only that he will educate 
 one of the girls, but that if the boys are steady and 
 turn out well, he may lend them a helping hand 
 one of these days. I think we should be very 
 thankful." 
 
 " Very fine for you, my dear," said Aunt Betsey : 
 "you are too old to be sent to school, and then 
 made a governess of." 
 
 " I only wish I were not," said Jessie. 
 
 Here a long discussion ensued between the 
 Captain and Miss Burton, in which Jessie was 
 occasionally called upon to take a part, by an 
 
 b3
 
 10 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 appeal from the former to her " good sense," 
 or ^'better judgment/^ concerning the propriety 
 of submitting Miss Annabella Burton, — the little 
 girl now pouting on the settle, — to the horrors of 
 a first-rate education, with a view to her becoming 
 a governess. An elderly bachelor uncle in London, 
 whom none of the present party had ever seen, 
 proposed putting her to a good school for some 
 years as a pupil; then making a teacher and 
 learner of her in the same school, and finally 
 launching her on life as a governess. The discus- 
 sion was gradually warming into a quarrel, in spite 
 of Jessicas quiet interference, when it was put' a 
 stop to by Miss Anna herself, who said suddenly, 
 interrupting Captain Burford — 
 
 " But, Captain Burford, I donH want to be a 
 governess." 
 
 '^ The devil you donH !" said the Captain in an 
 angry tone ; " pray then, little Miss, what may 
 you want to be?" 
 
 " I want to be a lady, and marry an officer," was 
 the reply, with a naughty toss of the head, 
 
 A general laugh put the disputants in good 
 humour. 
 
 " But, you proud little minx," said the Captain, 
 '^ you know Nelson is going to marry Jessie. They 
 have been engaged ever since they were born."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 11 
 
 '' Oh! I know that/' said Anna; ''but I don't 
 mean to marry Nelson/' 
 
 " And pray on what officer may you have fixed 
 your affections ?" asked the Captain. 
 
 Again Anna tossed her head. 
 
 " But, my dear Anna/' here interrupted Jessie, 
 " if you mean to marry an officer, you must be 
 very accomplished. You must play, and sing, and 
 dance, and draw, and I know not what besides." 
 
 " Must I ?" said the little girl, running towards 
 her sister; " then perhaps I will go to school and 
 learn all these things ; and then, you know, I can 
 marry when I leave school, and shouldn't need to 
 be a governess. I should like to go to a grand 
 school. Aunt Betsey, very much. Will you write 
 and tell Uncle Timothy that I am very much 
 obliged to him?" 
 
 Aunt Betsey was softened at once. She had no 
 doubt that any girl possessing, as Anna did, the 
 Burton beauty, would be sure to marry as soon 
 as she left school ; so she yielded, for once, to her 
 co-trustees. 
 
 " I declare we are nearly all settled now," 
 remarked the Captain, taking a very long pull at 
 his pipe, and whiffing the smoke up the capacious 
 chimney. 
 
 " There's Jessie, the farmer ; Pynsent, the doctor >
 
 .12 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Peter, the sailor; Anna, the — gov wife of the 
 
 officer; and Charley — well, you must have some 
 more schooling, my boy, and then we will see 
 about you." 
 
 " I will help Jessie to manage the farm," said 
 Charley submissively, putting a finishing touch 
 into the eye of the Captain, whose picture he had 
 been trying to take for the hundredth time. 
 
 (( Very good ! very good ! So now let us have 
 our rubber," exclaimed the Captain, laying aside 
 his pipe. 
 
 Charley opened a small box that he took down 
 from a bookshelf, and produced two packs of cards, 
 which he placed opposite each other on the round 
 table, and beside each pack four ivory markers. 
 Aunt Betsey laid aside her knotting, and seated 
 herself opposite Nelson, whilst the Captain took 
 a chair placed by Peter, and had Jessie for a vis-a- 
 vis and partner. 
 
 " Mind, Jessie," said the Captain, shuffling the 
 cards, " that you return my lead, and remember 
 how many trumps are out." 
 
 "■ May I put up your tricks. Captain Burford?" 
 asked Anna, seating herself by his side. 
 
 " To be sure, Mrs. Colonel Somebody. Only 
 remember to shove them together when they are
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 13 
 
 The game went on. 
 
 " Three by cards and two by honours/^ said the 
 Captain^ putting one marker above two others. ^' I 
 must take a pinch of snuff upon the strength of it/' 
 and he pulled out a large round box^ with a picture 
 of Lord Nelson on the cover^ and took such a 
 gripe of tempting dust as his big fingers alone 
 could take. 
 
 " Why did you trump my best diamond, Nel- 
 son V asked Miss Burton ; '' we lost a trick by 
 it." 
 
 " I thought all the others were out/^ replied 
 Nelson, " and that my father would overtrump me. 
 So I put down my best trump, and after all found 
 that he had a diamond." 
 
 " Six tricks again. Captain Burford," said Anna, 
 pushing the graduated cards up together. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg your pardon," exclaimed Jessie, " I 
 quite thought that the ace was out." 
 
 ^^ There, my dear !" cried the Captain impa- 
 tiently, " we shall lose the game by that over- 
 sight. How many, Anna ? Two by honours and 
 two by cards. Five and four are nine. In nine 
 holes, by Jove ! If you hadn't led your king, we 
 should have been game, and now I dare say we 
 shall lose it. Nine never won a game." 
 
 " I am very sorry, I really will try to play better,"
 
 14 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 said Jessie, dealing very steadily, and turning up 
 a deuce of clubs. 
 
 "Good luck under a black deuce/^ said the 
 Captain. " Confound the cards ! they come from 
 Beggars^row, sure enough. Two to one we shall 
 lose the game ; not a trump in my hand. I give 
 it up." 
 
 " I thought, Captain Burford, that whist meant 
 silence," said Miss Burton, leading the . ace of 
 trumps, and continuing to play all the honours. 
 " It is really impossible to attend to one^s game 
 if you talk so much," she added, after making 
 eight tricks without giving her adversaries breath- 
 ing time. 
 
 " I told you so, Jessie : nine never won a game." 
 
 " Go on. Nelson, now it^s your turn ; pick ^em 
 up. Nine — ten — eleven — twelve, by Jove ! Six 
 by cards and four by honours. A slam. There, 
 Jessie ! you lost that game ; I vow I will never 
 play with you again." And here Captain Bur- 
 ford got up, fumed about the room, and sat down 
 again. 
 
 "You^re wanted, please Miss," said the red- 
 faced servant, coming in and addressing Jessie. 
 
 ^^Pynsent, will you take my hand for a few 
 minutes ?" said Jessie. " He plays better than I 
 do, Captain Burford."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 15 
 
 Pynsent took the cards, and Jessie went into 
 the kitchen. 
 
 And such a kitchen ! A huge dresser with three 
 shelves covered with pewter plates, and the rest 
 with white ware, all shining and clean as the sun on 
 a sheet of snow. The tall chimney-piece, adorned 
 with brass and tin candlesticks, also shining. The 
 prickly dry furze and crisp sticks crackling on the 
 hearth, and the tea-kettle singing lustily above 
 them, proclaiming itself ready for Captain Burford^s 
 '^ toddy .^^ Gammons of bacon, hams, and tongues, 
 hanging from the wooden raft on the ceiling, and 
 bread and cheese spread upon the white deal-table. 
 
 Jessie found a labourer's wife awaiting her, who 
 wanted her husband's wages in advance, and medi- 
 cine for children ill of the measles. She went up- 
 stairs to her large store-room, and procured the 
 necessary articles. She returned and satisfied the 
 poor woman, and promised to visit the children ; 
 then she went about some household matters with 
 Dinah, and finally ordered in supper. When she 
 returned to the hall, she was greeted by the Captain 
 with — 
 
 " We've beaten them, Jessie ; double, single, 
 and the rub — four points. They saved their point 
 in the first game, thanks to Pynsent, who would 
 husband his trumps ; but he plays a better game
 
 16 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 than you do, because you think of other matters. 
 We must tell Uncle James that we beat Aunt Betsey 
 to shivers. I wonder he isn't here : he is afraid 
 of you^ Ma'am ; he seldom comes here of an evening 
 
 Aunt Betsey blushed and frowned. 
 
 Here Charley began to put away the cards, and 
 Miss Annabella condescended to help Dinah to lay 
 the cloth. A plain substantial supper was spread, 
 and a jug of Somersetshire cider, together with a 
 steaming tea-kettle, appeared. 
 
 " Let me make the toddy,'' said Pynsent. " Give 
 me the keys to get the rum, Jessie." Jessie gave 
 the keys, and Pynsent, unlocking another cup- 
 board, produced a right jolly-looking bottle. 
 
 " One slice of lemon, two lumps of sugar, a 
 wine-glass full of rum, and the rest water," said 
 the Captain. 
 
 " I know," replied Pynsent, going towards the 
 tea-kettle, and pouring the last ingredient into the 
 glass. 
 
 ^^Well, Miss Betsey," said Captain Burford 
 " I hope you will all come to my ball tomorrow. 
 I shall take it as an offence if you do not, as it 
 will be our last kick-up before Nelson leaves, and 
 one don't know when he may sail. Heigh ho ! 
 Why wouldn't you be a sailor. Nelson, if you
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. l7 
 
 must go away ? And I named you after the great 
 Commander, too, on purpose. I liate sojering." 
 
 " I do not mucli enjoy children's dances," said 
 Aunt Betsey, " but I shall be happy to avail my- 
 self of your kind invitation on this occasion. '^ 
 
 "And you, Jessie, and the rest?'' asked Cap- 
 tain Bur ford. 
 
 " Oh ! I think you must excuse me," rephed 
 Jessie, " I must look after the harvest." 
 
 " Hang the harvest ! you must come to my 
 ball." 
 
 "I cannot dance well enough, and should not 
 like to disgrace your guardianship," said Jessie, 
 smiling; "I really am out of my element at a 
 dance." 
 
 " Oh, Jessie, how unkind !" said Nelson. 
 
 Jessie glanced reproachfully at Nelson, and then 
 at her half-mourning dress. The youth under- 
 stood her, and was silent. 
 
 "Aunty will take Anna, and the three boys 
 can do without me," said Jessie. 
 
 " Indeed we can't," cried the two younger ones ; 
 " nobody is so good at games as you are : it is 
 worth a pound to play at blind-man's-buff with 
 you." 
 
 " But you will not have blind-man's-buff to- 
 morrow," said Jessie; "you must be steady and 
 quiet, because all the grand people wiU be there."
 
 18 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 ''Then I slia'n't go/' said Pynsent, "I hate 
 grand people/' 
 
 " That's more sincere than polite/' said the Cap- 
 tain^ " seeing that I consider myself a very grand 
 person^ and Aunt Betsey has no mean notion of 
 her family." 
 
 " No^ that she hasn't ! " muttered Pynsent. 
 
 "Least said, soonest mended. I shall expect 
 you all/' said the Captain. " Mind, Jessie, no ex- 
 cuses! I should be miserable without your good- 
 natured face ; and as to Nelson, fie ! for shame ! 
 how could you refuse, and you engaged to him 
 ever since you were born ? I remember it as if it 
 was today. Nelson came into the world the 20th 
 of June, 1815, — year memorable for the battle 
 of Waterloo — that is why he must go into the 
 army ; and in the evening of that day I walked 
 down here to ask why your father hadn't been to 
 congratulate me, and drink his health. To my 
 astonishment, I found that you were born the 
 same day. Old school-fellows — old friends — son 
 and daughter. We sat down at that identical 
 round table, and called for the toddy. We drank 
 one glass to Nelson's health, one glass to your 
 health, and one to your marriage at some future 
 day ; and, by George, if we weren't as drunk as 
 fiddlers ! First time I ever saw your father more 
 than a little merry, though those were days of
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 19 
 
 hard drinking. It was then I vowed I would call 
 my boy^ Nelson^ after the great Commander, and 
 destined him for the navy. Disappointed there. 
 Your father looked through the old pedigree to 
 find a grand family name for you. He was di- 
 vided between Jessica and Annabella, but I in- 
 clined to the former, because I like the song of 
 ' Jessie of Dumblane/ and so it was settled. He 
 wanted to add ' Pynsent/ on account of that con- 
 founded family of Burton Pynsent, that he said 
 you belonged to; but I suggested that it was a 
 boy^s name, so it was reserved for this younker 
 here. Ah ! those were happy days, weren^t they, 
 Miss Burton ? Well, and so are these : we have 
 no reason to complain. Now, Nel, past half after 
 nine. ' Early to bed^ — you know the rest.^^ 
 
 There was a great shaking of hands, and a ge- 
 neral rush to open the door, where the full-faced 
 harvest-moon looked so magnificent overhead, that 
 all went out to greet her, and to congratulate one 
 another on the prospect of a continuance of fine 
 weather and a good harvest. 
 
 And now, patient Reader, you and I will also 
 emerge from our corner, and, wishing our new 
 friends good-night, proceed to make some fresh 
 acquaintances.
 
 20 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " A doctor for near half a century, 
 He lived and laboured for the good of men : 
 Though called to watch the sick bed of the rich, 
 And earn the fee for care and 'tendance due, 
 He never shrank, at all unseemly hours, 
 From waiting on the poor man's couch of pain, 
 And living to alleviate the ills 
 That human nature is foredoom' d to bear." 
 
 Whilst you and I, gentle Reader^ have been 
 quietly, and, I hope, not quite unprofitably, em- 
 ployed in the haU at Fairfield, making acquaint- 
 ance with a family of orphan children and their 
 guardians, there has been much anxiety and some 
 bustle within a few miles of us. Just when our 
 little party were about to sit down to theii' rubber, 
 Mr. Michelson was pacing impatiently the dining- 
 room of Michelson Hall. He had just risen from 
 his solitary dessert, and had left his wine-glass 
 dry, and his plate unsoiled. One moment he 
 would go to the window, throw up the sash, and 
 look out upon the smooth lawn ; the next he would 
 unclose the door and listen, as if for footsteps ;
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 21 
 
 then he would return to his fidgety walk^ and 
 mutter to himself. He was a tall_, handsome man, 
 of middle age, dressed in black, and rather, as the 
 French would say, tire a quatre epingles. His 
 head was just beginning to be bald a little above 
 the forehead, and his hair, naturally wavy and of a 
 dark brown, was carefully brushed over the invidi- 
 ous space of white. His eyes were fine, — too fine, 
 I would say ; too large, too searching, too bright, 
 almost too bold; your glance fell beneath them, 
 you scarcely knew why, not exactly from personal 
 shame, but from a kind of intuitive shame for him : 
 they professed to be blue, but verged upon green; 
 and if, to borrow again from the French tongue, 
 so rich in figures, le bleu et le vert se jurent, it is 
 not to be wondered at that they were so restless 
 and yet so impudent. The nose was un pen re- 
 trousse — (French again ! but what polite writer of 
 the present refined age could say "turned-up," 
 when speaking of the nose of a gentleman of ten 
 thousand a year ?) . The lips were red and full, and 
 concealed, or, more properly, were frequently part- 
 ed to reveal, a magnificent set of teeth, as yet un- 
 submitted to the unkind hand of the dentist. Dia- 
 mond studs adorned his shirt, which was defended 
 by a well-clipped hedge of frills; and his shirt- 
 collar was as stiff as starch could make it. He
 
 22 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 was altogether an uncomfortably good-looking 
 man. 
 
 At last the door opened. 
 
 "Well, Stephens_, what news?" he said, as a 
 tall, wary-looking butler entered. 
 
 ^' Miss Rutherford started by the mail for Lon- 
 don this morning at seven, Sir. She had no 
 luggage whatever. Sir. The Boots particularly 
 remarked that she had no luggage." 
 
 " What had the Boots to do with her or her lug- 
 gage ? the impudent rascal ! " said Mr. Michelson. 
 
 " Nothing whatever, Sir ; only you told me to 
 ask." 
 
 ^' Hold your tongue, and answer my questions ! " 
 said Mr. Michelson, a large vein in his capacious 
 forehead becoming very prominent as he spoke. 
 " Did Miss Rutherford make known her intention 
 of leaving to any one ? " 
 
 " No, Sir. The housemaid said that she heard 
 her in her room moving about, at between five and 
 six; but, as she was always an early riser, and 
 frequently walked before breakfast, she thought 
 nothing of it." 
 
 '^Did she know whether she was in bed at all 
 last night ? " 
 
 " She thought not. Sir ; it was near two o'clock 
 before she went upstairs."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 23 
 
 " I suppose I know that^ since I was with her 
 up to that hour in the drawing-room. Just an- 
 swer my questions^ and no more. Were the ser- 
 vants gone to bed when I went to my room last 
 night ? '' 
 
 " All but me and Vigars, Sir.^^ 
 
 " Ah ! Vigars ! He came into the drawing- 
 room with tea, — then with candles, — then, as 
 usual, with the keys. Tell me exactly what he 
 said, when he returned to the kitchen, about Miss 
 Rutherford. Come, Sir, no evasions ! You are 
 aware that I will find out.^' 
 
 " Why, Sir, he said nothing particular." 
 
 ^^What did he say that was not particular? 
 Speak at once, and speak truth, or I will dismiss 
 you." 
 
 " He only said. Sir, that you and Miss Ruther- 
 ford seemed to be having a quarrel, and that he 
 heard high words as he came through the hall." 
 
 " Go on : what more ? " 
 
 " Nothing particular. Sir, that I can remember, 
 except that Miss Rutherford was too high and 
 mighty for her situation." 
 
 " The impudent scoundrel ! What was Miss 
 Rutherford^s situation to him? And that was 
 all?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir."
 
 24 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "Well, Stephens, I think you are a faithful 
 servant enough, as times go, and I will trust to 
 your discretion so far as to let you try and find 
 out where Miss Kutherford is, supposing that she 
 does not come back tomorrow, as I imagine she 
 will. As companion to my late dear wife " — here 
 Mr. Michelson heaved a sigh, and glanced at a 
 mourning-ring — " I always thought it my duty to 
 treat her with consideration. When Lady Char- 
 lotte died, — how long ago is it noAv, Stephens ?" 
 
 " More than a year. Sir.'' 
 
 " When my wife died I felt that Miss Ruther- 
 ford had still a claim upon me. Besides, Chatham 
 was so fond of her that I knew he would be miser- 
 able if she left us ; so, as you know, I offered her 
 the situation of superintendent of my household, 
 which she accepted. She was young and inex- 
 perienced ; still I believe she did her duty. What 
 do you think, Stephens ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sir ; your own daughter could never have 
 been more careful and particular." 
 
 " Tush ! Well, of course I am anxious to do 
 what is right by her. In the first place to find 
 out where she is gone ; in the second, to let it be 
 understood that she took offence at something I 
 said to her concerning the management of the 
 house; and having, as Vigars justly observed, too
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 25 
 
 high a spirit for her position in life, left me, with- 
 out notice. You understand ? '^ 
 
 " Yes, Sir.^^ 
 
 '^ I believe it is well known that I always treated 
 her as an equal ; and therefore no one can suppose 
 that she left me on account of any unkindness on 
 my part." 
 
 '' I should think not, Sir." , 
 
 " Why do you speak with that tone, as if you 
 thought I treated her too familiarly ? " 
 
 " I didn't mean any tone. Sir." 
 
 " Then donH assume a tone. If Miss Ruther- 
 ford does not return tomorrow, you must see the 
 guard of the mail ; find out whether she went all 
 the way to London; follow her; make inquiries 
 at the Sun, where the coach stops, and where she 
 probably will be; see her, and give her a letter 
 that I will write. I have no doubt you will find 
 her at once. I know she had money, because I 
 paid her only the day before yesterday." 
 
 "Very well. Sir." 
 
 '^ Let it be understood that I am particularly 
 anxious to serve her, because my dear wife " — an- 
 other glance at the moummg-ring, and a pressure 
 of the eyes with the hand it ornamented — " recom- 
 mended her to my care on her death-bed. Well, 
 have you nothing to say ? Don't look so surprised." 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 2G SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "^ I didn't mean to look surprised, Sir. Your 
 orders shall be faithfully attended to, Sir.'' 
 
 " And now you may go. See that the servants 
 do not make Miss K/Utherford's sudden departure 
 an excuse for aspersing her character. I believe 
 they did not like her." 
 
 "Very well, Sir. Most of us liked her, Sir." 
 
 Here the butler left the dining-room, and found 
 his fellow-servant Vigars in the hall, very near the 
 door. The pair went quietly together into the 
 butler's pantry. 
 
 " I never ! " said Vigars, " but you was right to 
 say what I said ; for he would have poked it out 
 of Sarah or Martha, and they might have told 
 more than was convenient in the fright. Poor 
 crittur ! I don't think she'll ever come back. I 
 never see such a way as she was in : trembling 
 Avith passion, and her eyes streaming with tears, 
 that she tried to hide when T came in ; and master 
 in a towering rage ; he was standing close up to 
 where she sat, and I believe he'd a' struck her, if I 
 hadn't come in. I heard her say, ^1 will leave 
 you — I will never bear this — I would starve, die, 
 rather ! ' And when I went in again they were 
 at it still, only calmer ; and so they went on from 
 nine o'clock till near two in the morning." 
 
 "'Tis very odd," said Stephens, "but I don't
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 27 
 
 think my poor mistress ever really liked her, espe- 
 cially along at the last, though she was as submis- 
 sive and attentive as any one could be, and nearly 
 cried her heart out when she died. There was a 
 unhappy ^ooman, Vigars, as Lady Charlotte wus ! 
 You never see any one die of a broken heart, if she 
 didn^t. She couldnH bear to be stinted at home, 
 whilst she knew that thousands and thousands 
 were spent in pictures and operas and all kinds of 
 show. I shouldn^t wonder if that wasn^t why Miss 
 Rutherford went away. I know I won^t bear it 
 long longer; and if it wasn^t for Master Chatham^s 
 sake, I should have left long ago." 
 
 " We must have a proper housekeeper now, 
 that^s one comfort," said Vigars ; '' our table will 
 be better served." 
 
 Whilst we leave Mr. Michelson and his house- 
 hold to their various meditations upon the sudden 
 flight of Miss Rutherford, and allow a few days to 
 pass, we must travel to London. Arrived there, 
 we find ourselves compelled, tired as we are, to 
 traverse several intricate streets, until we reach 
 a second-rate hotel, situated in one of the many 
 minor streets leading out of Piccadilly. We enter, 
 and, ascending the stairs, attain a bedroom, in 
 which several persons are assembled. 
 
 The object of attention to all seems to be a very 
 
 c2
 
 28 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 young and tiny baby, happily sleeping in a small 
 clothes -basket, well wrapped up in flannels. A 
 gentleman of kindly aspect and middle age, wear- 
 ing a brown suit of clothes and a wig, is seated on 
 a low chair, gazing on the infant, whilst a portly 
 woman, the landlady of the hotel, stands by his 
 side wiping her eyes. Another gentleman, and one 
 or two servant girls, are in different parts of the 
 room. 
 
 " I do not know what is to become of the poor 
 infant, Sir,^^ said the landlady to the gentleman in 
 brown ; " it do seem such a pity to send it to the 
 workhouse." 
 
 " Will you kindly tell me all you know of the 
 unfortunate mother, Ma^am?" he asked. 
 
 ^^Well, Sir, she came here two days ago, and 
 asked for a bedroom. She was very handsome 
 and well-dressed, and I let her have everything 
 she wanted at once. She looked very unhappy 
 and ill, but she said nothing to me, and I didnH 
 like to take the liberty of asking any questions. 
 She slept here ; and the next morning, early, she 
 told me to send for a surgeon of the name of 
 Barnard, as she did not feel quite well. I asked 
 where you lived. Sir ; but she did not know, so we 
 looked in the Directory, and found your address. 
 You know the rest. Sir, better than I do."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 29 
 
 " All, yes ! poor creature ! She scarcely spoke 
 before all was over and she was in the agonies of 
 death. So young ! and to have left this unfortu- 
 nate infant as a living legacy to the benevolent ! " 
 
 "To the workhouse, I should think/^ here in- 
 terrupted the other gentleman, who was also a 
 surgeon. 
 
 " Poor innocent V said the landlady, " I would 
 take it, and proud to do it, if I was richer ; but 
 my good-man grumbles at feeding our own large 
 family, and would never have a stranger added.^' 
 
 " The goodwill does you honour, Ma^am,^^ said 
 Mr. Barnard, " and I only wish such a kind heart 
 could be found to shelter this poor child.^^ 
 
 " Did the young woman leave any money ? '' 
 asked Mr. Pilson, the other surgeon. 
 
 " She gave this purse into my hand, Sir,^' said 
 the landlady, giving a handsome purse to Mr. 
 Barnard, "just before you came, and told me to 
 pay you and myself what was right ; I have not 
 even opened it yet.^' 
 
 The purse was found to contain between thirty 
 and forty pounds, in bank-notes, sovereigns, and 
 silver. The sovereigns were wrapped together in 
 a piece of torn writing-paper, on which was writing 
 in a female hand. The sheet had been torn cross- 
 ways, so that only broken lines were legible. There
 
 30 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 was no single complete sentence. The words " for 
 ever .... acknowledge me as ... . heartbroken 
 vie ... . make your cruel treatment known .... 
 return to my mother till . . . .'' was all that was 
 ■written^ together with the signature^ " Sophia." 
 
 '^ There is not much to be made out of that/' 
 said Mr. Pilson. 
 
 " No, alas, no ! " said Mr. Barnard, bending 
 over the child ; " but we must do our best to find 
 the poor lady's friends, for the sake of this inno- 
 cent. We will not send it to the workhouse yet, 
 Ma'am. We will inquire ; and then — and then — 
 God knows. Perhaps it may not live, it is so small 
 and weak." 
 
 " I will keep it for a week or so. Sir, whilst my 
 husband is away, but — " said the landlady. 
 
 ^' You need not be alarmed. Ma'am ; I w ill de- 
 fray any expenses you may incur till the unfortu- 
 nate mystery is cleared up. Poor dead lady ! poor 
 motherless babe ! " 
 
 " There must be a magistrate, and an inquest, 
 and advertisements, and depositions, and all the 
 rest of it," gasped Mr. Pilson, " and the sooner 
 the better!" 
 
 And so it w^as. All proper measures w^ere at 
 once resorted to ; but no intelligence w^as obtained 
 of the unfortunate lady, beyond what we already
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 31 
 
 know. Suspended by a small liair chain from her 
 neck was a wedding ring, which was found to be 
 of the same size as a very curious antique cameo 
 that was taken from the third finger of her left 
 hand. These, together with her wearing apparel, 
 were carefully put aside. It was noted down that 
 she had large dark violet eyes ; an aquiline nose ; 
 a well-shaped but rather broad mouth; dark 
 hair braided across a high forehead, and a dark 
 pale complexion ; that she was tall, and dressed in 
 a straw bonnet lined and trimmed with pink, a 
 brown silk dress, and a large black shawl with a 
 broad Indian border. 
 
 She was buried respectably in the churchyard of 
 St. Jameses, at Mr. Timothy Barnard's request, 
 who, together with the landlady and one of the 
 servants, attended the funeral. It cannot be said, 
 as of some, that she was " unwept,^' for this worthy 
 trio shed tears of pity over her grave, and uttered 
 a prayer for her innocent child. 
 
 When all the expenses of her funeral, and 
 those incurred at the Inn, were paid, her purse, 
 as may be supposed, was empty ; and there was 
 the baby — a small, weak, puling, tender-limbed 
 infant — to be taken to the workhouse. 
 
 "Perhaps,^' said Mr. Timothy Barnard to the 
 landlady, " we might get her into one of those ex-
 
 32 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 cellent institutions for female orphans, if we could 
 but manage to nurse her a little longer. I have 
 been a subscriber for many years to one, and have 
 some interest." 
 
 " Very likely, Sir/' said the good woman, " but 
 them workhouse people won't pay nothing for 
 bringing her up out of the workhouse ; and it do 
 seem a pity to let a lady's child go there." 
 
 Mr. Timothy Barnard went home to his house 
 in Duke-street. He entered the little back room 
 on the ground-floor, which was his study, and sat 
 down in his armchair. 
 
 "What am I to do?" he said, muttering aloud 
 to a large bookcase. " Old bachelor, quite unused 
 to children. But the workhouse ! Poor thing ! 
 poor thing ! And the mother's look at me, and 
 then at the child. Why did she send for me ? Did 
 she know me ? They asked that at the inquest, 
 and no wonder. And I promised to educate one 
 of my nieces too. At my age to have to deal with 
 two female children ! Old fool ! I'm always put- 
 ting my foot in it. And why not the workhouse ? 
 She would never be the wiser, and just as happy, I 
 dare say, if unconscious. But what have I to do 
 with my money better than to help the orphan ? 
 Hasn't the great Father of the fatherless put her 
 II my way ? Doesn't he say to me, ' You have no
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 33 
 
 children, adopt one of mine^? Did the Saviour 
 send' them to the workhonse when they came to 
 Him? Oh, Timothy, Timothy! what did the 
 Apostle Paul say to thy namesake long ago, ^Now 
 the end of the commandment is charity, out of a 
 pure heart and of a good conscience.-' " 
 
 Here Mr. Timothy Barnard paused in his con- 
 versation with the bookshelf; rose from his chair, 
 and approached it ; opened one of the glass doors, 
 and took down a large Bible; re-seated himself, 
 and turned to the Epistles to Timothy : in the 
 first chapter of the first Epistle he found the words 
 he had quoted. He read the chapter through, still 
 aloud, as if to the furniture ; then closing the sacred 
 volume, covered his face with his hands, and was 
 silent awhile. 
 
 "Very well, I will do it, please God," he said, 
 rising again from his chair, rubbing his hands, and 
 finally depositing them in the tails of his coat. He 
 walked about the room with a pleased smile on his 
 countenance, and whistled a tune of long ago, that 
 he must have learnt in a Somersetshire hayfield. 
 He suddenly caught sight of some letters that lay 
 unopened upon the table, and came to an anchor be- 
 *fore them. He opened one; the word "Appeal'^ 
 was printed at the top. " Not now," he murmured, 
 " female orphan first." He broke the seal of an- 
 
 c 3
 
 34 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 other : '^ Dear me ! there's Widow Eveleigh thank- 
 ing me again, as if half an hour's advice and five 
 penn'orth of drugs were worth so much gratitude. 
 A third, ^' With Lady Singleton^s compliments and 
 best thanks/' acompanied by a cheque for fifty 
 pounds. "■ That will just do for her first year of 
 babyhood/' said he, putting the cheque and note 
 into his desk. A fourth — this was rather a long 
 letter, neatly written. He hemmed, as if to clear 
 his voice for the benefit of the bookshelf, and read 
 as follows : — 
 
 '' Fairfield, August 23. 
 
 " My dear Uncle Timothy, 
 
 '^ As my aunt is not very well, she has requested 
 me to answer your kind letter. We are all very 
 much obliged to you for your generous offer of 
 providing for one of us two girls. As I am now 
 seventeen, and greatly wanted at home, to see to 
 the farm and the younger children, I cannot avail 
 myself of it ; but my sister Annabella, who is only 
 ten, Avill be very glad to do so. She will be ready 
 by Christmas, or any time you may think proper. 
 Indeed, my dear Uncle, we are very grateful to 
 you ; and Captain Burford, who met you at Fair- 
 field, when you came there to pay the wedding 
 visit, desires me to say, with his best respects, that
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 35 
 
 it is just what he expected from you. I wish you 
 would come to Fairfield again. Although we have 
 never seen you, I assure you we should give you 
 a hearty welcome. As I am the eldest, my dear 
 mother used to talk to me a great deal about you, 
 and taught me to love you very much. I hope, 
 please God, we shall get on very well. Everybody 
 is very kind to us. Our good doctor has offered to 
 take Pynsent as his apprentice, for nothing ; so 
 he is, so far, provided for. Captain Burford thinks 
 he can get Peter into the navy soon, and Charles 
 says he will stay at home and be a farmer; he 
 is very clever, indeed, at almost everything. You 
 see how God keeps his promise to ' the fatherless.^ 
 The crops are very good this year, and we are all 
 strong and healthy, except perhaps Charley — he 
 is not so strong as the rest of us. I hope you 
 will excuse this long letter, and that you will write 
 to us sometimes. Aunt Betsey desires her best 
 compliments, and my brothers and sister jmite 
 with me in love and gratitude. 
 
 " I remain, my dear Uncle, 
 
 " Your affectionate and dutiful niece, 
 " Jessie Burton." 
 
 The good doctor wiped his eyes ; then he looked 
 over the letter again, and commented upon it.
 
 36 SIMPLICITY AND lASCINATION. 
 
 '' Very pretty letter ! Nice, natural little girl, 
 I am sure. Good sort of fellow, that Captain 
 Burford. ' My dear mother^ — blessed angel ! If 
 she hadnH married that proud, weak man, she 
 would have been happier : she was too plain and 
 humble-minded for him. Dear sister ! I wish I 
 had seen her once more. No use repining. Poor 
 children ! all in a fair way of getting on ' in the 
 world. Aunt Betsey indeed ! — prouder than her 
 brother, and weaker : thinking of nothing but her 
 beauty. That wonH carry her to heaven, or go 
 with her to the grave.^' 
 
 Mr. Timothy Barnard rang the bell. An elderly 
 woman appeared. 
 
 " Tell John to bring the carriage,'^ he said. 
 
 '^ The carriage have been at the door more than 
 an hour. Sir. We was beginning to be afraid some- 
 think was the matter,^ ^ replied the housekeeper. 
 
 " Bless me ! I quite forgot myself. All my pa- 
 tients waiting 1 Give me my hat, Mrs. Hicks, and 
 cane, and gloves. Dinner at seven : good morn- 
 ing." 
 
 Mr. Barnard drove to see a great many patients, 
 in a comfortable carriage and pair. During his 
 drive his thoughts were occupied by his orphans, 
 and he occasionally communicated them to the 
 carriage or the coachman's back, to which both
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 37 
 
 were well accustomed, and of which they took 
 about equal notice. After having passed through 
 most of the fashionable streets of St. Jameses, and 
 stopped every five or ten minutes at difierent doors 
 in that locality, to feel pulses, examine tongues, 
 hear complaints, and write prescriptions, he called 
 out to the coachman — 
 
 "Peckham, John." 
 
 " Very good. Sir," was the reply ; and to Peck- 
 ham they drove. 
 
 The carriage drew up before a small, neat house, 
 with a twelve-foot-square flower-garden in front, 
 situated at the end of a small row of buildings, 
 in a broad, airy road. After London, it looked 
 quite a country scene. There was actually a cock 
 crowing somewhere behind the houses, and two or 
 three dusty birds were chirping on the railings 
 that surrounded them. A mistaken butterfly was 
 disputing the possession of a brown plant of mi- 
 gnonette with a deluded bee, and something very 
 like trees was visible in the distance. 
 
 The doctor walked up the little garden, and was 
 met at the door by a neat, almost ladylike-looking 
 woman, in widow's weeds. 
 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Eveleigh?" he said, 
 holding out his hand kindly. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you. Sir ! how kind of you
 
 38 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 to come !" said Mrs. Eveleigh, leading the way into 
 a neat room, the walls of which were covered with 
 portraits of every size and sort. 
 
 " Not kind, my dear Madam/^ replied Mr. Bar- 
 nard ; " my visit is selfish : you have not yet begun 
 the little school we talked of, and I wished to ask 
 you whether you would like to take charge of a 
 motherless infant instead. ^^ 
 
 " Oh yes, Sir ! ever since I lost my own baby, 
 I have wished to have one to nurse. Besides, it 
 would be an object. Sir, and help to fill up the 
 great void which his death has left in my heart.^^ 
 
 The widow^s eyes filled with tears. 
 
 "Just so! just so!^^ said Mr. Barnard hastily. 
 "It is right that you should know the child's 
 history, though we will keep it secret from the 
 world.'' And he began to relate the sad tale that 
 the reader already knows. 
 
 " I feel that I can trust you, Mrs. Eveleigh, 
 because you have a kind heart. We shall not 
 quarrel about money matters. By the bye, you 
 will want some money in advance. You may be 
 able to go on with your fancy work, or whatever 
 it is, at odd times ; and so, with God's blessing 
 m*ake a living of it." 
 
 The worthy doctor put a ten-pound note into the 
 widow's hand.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 39 
 
 " God will bless you. Sir, I am sure," she said. 
 ^' He told me. Sir, that if you would choose any of 
 his best pictures, as a small token of gratitude, and 
 in remembrance of him — " 
 
 " Another time, Mrs. Eveleigh, another time. 
 I should like to see the child about once a month, 
 sometimes here, and sometimes at my own house ; 
 and if it is ill, send for me directly. The nurse 
 shall bring her to you tomorrow. Take care of 
 yourself. How is the poor man next-door? I 
 must just look in upon him. Keep up your spirits, 
 and try to submit to the will of God in all things. 
 I believe your poor husband is in heaven, and that 
 ought to be comfort enough for us. Good bye." 
 
 " Good bye. Sir, and may the Lord bless and 
 preserve you ! " said the poor widow, returning to 
 her solitary apartment, and gazing abstractedly 
 upon the portrait of her husband, who, a clever 
 but unknown artist, had died of consumption about 
 a month before, and over whose protracted suf- 
 ferings Mr. Timothy Barnard had watched with 
 the tenderness of a parent and the skill of an ac- 
 complished surgeon.
 
 40 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Ah, Beauty ! of all things on earth, 
 How many thy charms most desire ! 
 Yet beauty with youth has its birth, 
 And beauty with youth must expire." 
 
 Charles Wolfe. 
 
 Jessie and Pynsent kept their resolution of re- 
 maining at home on the evening of Captain Bnr- 
 ford's juvenile ball. They started their aunt and 
 the three younger children in the covered car that 
 they kept for journeying and jaunting, and wished 
 them a merry evening. Miss Burton looked mag- 
 nificent, and very handsome in her black satin 
 gown, jet ornaments, and black velvet turban and 
 feathers. Jessie declared to Pynsent, when she 
 was gone, that she certainly was the finest woman 
 in the world, and that she did not wonder at her 
 being still a little vain of her beauty. 
 
 " She certainly is beautiful," said Pynsent ear- 
 nestly, " and Anna is just like her ; like poor Papa 
 too, who was the handsomest man I ever saw, 
 morels the pity."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 41 
 
 " Why ^ morels the pity/ Pynsent ?" 
 
 " Because the pride of family and of beauty has 
 been the ruin of us all ; so Captain Burford says, 
 and I believe \i" answered Pynsent. 
 
 " Aunt Betsey might have been well married fifty 
 times, so Captain Burford told me, if she hadn't 
 fixed her mind on Mr. Michelson, who admired 
 her, but chose to marry a title," said Jessie. 
 
 " I suspect,'' said Pynsent smiling, "that she 
 thinks she shall meet Mr. Michelson tonight. The 
 truth was, that he jilted her, and so made Papa very 
 bitter against him by so doing. By the bye, have 
 you heard that Miss Rutherford is gone from the 
 Hall ?" 
 
 '^ Yes, I am so sorry : I quite liked her; she was 
 very much to be pitied, having no friends. But, 
 Pynsent, we must not lose our quiet evening here j 
 let us go into the cornfields, and look after the 
 men." 
 
 The brother and sister walked away arm-in-arm. 
 They crossed a newly-mown meadow, with grass as 
 smooth and bright as green velvet. The sun cast 
 his evening rays upon it, and made it shine like 
 gold. The hedges on all sides were covered with 
 wild roses, honeysuckle, and old-man's-beard ; and 
 a pleasant perfume filled the air. The next field 
 was the cornfield, where men, women, and children
 
 42 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 were worldng lustily. Here the women were bind- 
 ing the golden treasure with the strong straw wisp, 
 there the men were forming the sheaves into shocks, 
 and everywhere the children were filling their arms 
 and aprons with the stray ears, their own little 
 store. Smiles and curtseys welcomed the young 
 master and mistress, who were soon as busily at 
 work as the rest, helping one to bind a sheaf, or 
 another to shape the shock. 
 
 Pleasantly there rose a harvest song on the 
 evening air, as the labourers prepared to return to 
 their homes, having finished their day^s work, and 
 left the field in stacks, ready for carrying. Pleasant 
 the flushed face and cheerful smile of Jessie, as 
 she returns their nods and curtseys, and seats her- 
 self by her brother's side ; and still more pleasant 
 her clear sweet voice, as it rises, as if of its own 
 accord, to join the song of the harvesters. You do 
 not need the beauty of your little sister, sweet 
 Jessie; cheerfulness and good-humour, and a cer- 
 tain natural dignity of bearing, the fruit of an 
 honest mind, are more charming, after all, than 
 regular features and a symmetrical shape, Avhen 
 consciousness of beauty dwells with them. 
 
 " Now, Jessie, you must stop singing, and talk 
 to me,'' said Pynsent, putting his arm affection- 
 ately round his sister's waist. " Do you know
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 43 
 
 that I 'think a great deal of what Papa said about 
 never selling Fairfield. I should be very sorry to 
 sell the dear old place, and these pretty fields_, and 
 all that we have been used to so long." 
 
 " We can never sell it, Pynsent," said Jessie. 
 
 '^ Then we must work hard to pay off the mort- 
 gages which Papa and his forefathers raised from 
 time to time, rather than sell a portion of the 
 estate to clear it. I am determined this shall be 
 the end for which I will strive." 
 
 " But," said Jessie, " the great drawback is 
 having to pay more than a hundred a year interest, 
 before we can lay by to clear ofi* the principal." 
 
 '' Small beginnings produce great endings, Jes- 
 sie. It is so in all the biographies of great men." 
 
 Jessie smiled. 
 
 '^ Another drawback," said Pynsent, " is Aunt 
 Betsey^ s fifty pounds a year : that has to be 
 raised also, before we can begin to reckon our own 
 income, and the best years, the estate doesn't 
 produce more than three hundred and fifty." 
 
 " A thought has struck me," said Jessie : '' j^ou 
 know Aunt Betsey never used to pay anything for 
 her board as long as Papa lived; but now she insists 
 on gi™g us twenty pounds a year. Suppose we 
 make a point of putting by that twenty pounds, 
 which is clear gain to us, as a beginning."
 
 44 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Capital V' said Pynsent; "then we may be able 
 to screw five pounds here and there besides, when 
 the children are provided for, as there will not 
 be so much expense at home. The worst of it is, 
 that it seems so long before I shall begin to work : 
 four or five good years — what an age !" 
 
 " After all/^ said Jessie thoughtfully, " I almost 
 agree with Captain Burford in thinking that it 
 would have been best to sell the estate, and invest 
 the money that remains profitably ; I mean, after 
 the mortgage is paid ofi", and a sufficiency reserved 
 for our education, and giving you boys a fair start 
 in life." 
 
 " Very little would remain to us, I fear," said 
 Pynsent, " after all that was done ; besides. Papa's 
 last wish should be as binding as if it was his last 
 will : — by no means to sell the estate, and never to 
 let an acre of it fall into Mr. Michelson^s hands. 
 What I should like would be to get very rich, — 
 which I shall do, of course, — and then buy the 
 whole estate of you four : you could come and keep 
 house for me; Anna will be sure to marry, and 
 the boys will be better provided for." 
 
 ^' You are ' romancing' now, I think. Master 
 Pynsent. But why am I not to marry?" 
 
 " I don't think you will ever marry ; you know 
 the Burtons have always been old maids. And that
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 45 
 
 reminds me of Captain Burford's folly about you 
 and Nelson; I hope yon donH think of it_, Jessie. 
 Nelson will be sure to rise in the army^ he is so 
 steady^ and he will either marry some beauty or 
 an heiress, take my word for it.^^ 
 
 " How absurd you are, Pynsent !" said Jessie, 
 colouring; "you talk of Nelson^ s marrying, at 
 seventeen, as if he were thirty." 
 
 " Because Captain Burford talks about it and 
 thinks about it," said Pynsent bluntly, " and it 
 may make you very uncomfortable some one of 
 these days." 
 
 A silence ensued, during which Jessie looked 
 unusually thoughtful. 
 
 " You are quite right, Pynsent," she said at last. 
 " Now we had better go home, as the dews are 
 falling, and I have a great deal to do. We must 
 remember that our great object is to do all we can 
 for the good of the younger ones ; and in the first 
 place, to pay off the mortgages by degrees, — say a 
 hundred pounds at a time. Oh dear me ! it would 
 take one four or five years at least to save one 
 hundred, and more than a century to save two 
 thousand. What old people we should be !" Jessie 
 laughed heartily at the picture that presented itself 
 to her imagination, of Pynsent and herself, an 
 old bachelor and old maid, of nearly a hundred
 
 46 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 years old, living together in the place of their 
 birth. 
 
 " Nil desperandum is my motto/' said Pynsent. 
 
 '' Crest, a pill-box; coat-of-arms, three bottles 
 rampant, and a case of surgical instruments cou- 
 chant ?" asked Jessie. 
 
 When Jessie was quietly seated at her work, 
 and Pynsent was regaling her ears with some 
 medical case he was reading, Captain Burford's ju- 
 venile ball was at its climax. The whole youthful 
 respectability of the town and neighbourhood had 
 assembled, and many of the elders with them, and 
 were amusing themselves alternately with dancing 
 and games, until the old house rang with music 
 and merriment. Annabella was, as had been pre- 
 dicted, the beauty of the ball-room ; and it was 
 ridiculous to see her surrounded by her throng of 
 little admirers, one saying, '' Now, Anna, dance 
 with me f another, " You promised to dance with 
 me next, you know you did f a third, " Very well, 
 Miss, I wonH ask you again,^^ and so on ; whilst the 
 young lady seemed to enjoy it just as much as if 
 she were sweet seventeen, and boasted an elegant 
 tablette, on which the names of a score of partners 
 were regularly inscribed. 
 
 Anna was a sparkling little beauty, that fasci- 
 nated at first sight. Black eyes, as bright and pier-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION, 47 
 
 cing as an eagle's ; black hair falling in long ringlets 
 down lier shoulders ; a clear brown complexion and 
 a colour like " the red red rose ;" lips really like 
 the " double cherry/^ full and pouting ; the nose 
 slightly aquiline^ but small and delicate : she was 
 a perfect little gipsy,, and it was as impossible to 
 see her and not to spoil her^ as it would be not to 
 admire her. She was perfectly conscious of all this, 
 and as consummate a little coquette as you cotdd 
 light upon. She almost knew already when to kill 
 a tiny lover by a sudden shot from under the long 
 black eyelashes, and how to hold him in thrall by 
 her naughty flirting ways. Truly, if "the child 
 is father of the man/' "the girl is mother of the 
 woman ;" and, if we read aright, without the se- 
 vere castigation of suffering and sorrow, Annabella 
 Burton will be ruined by vanity and admiration — 
 her beauty will be her curse. 
 
 The Captain had arranged whist-tables in ano- 
 ther room, whither most of the papas and mammas 
 had retired; but a little before supper they came 
 by degrees into the dancing-room. The children 
 were in the heart of an old dance called " the Sigh- 
 ing Dance," which was occasioning much anxiety 
 and amusement. A little beau knelt before his 
 chosen belle, sighed, and then whirled her round 
 the room, and finally danced himself into her chair.
 
 48 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 leaving her to kneel, in her turn, before some other 
 swain, and perform a similar movement with him. 
 Anna had, as usual, more than her share of ^^sigh- 
 ers,^^ and was standing amongst a group of girls of 
 all ages, flushed and fluttering with excitement, 
 waiting to see whom Chatham Michelson would 
 choose, whose turn it was to kneel. Just at tlje 
 moment, Mr. Michelson entered the room. Nel- 
 son rushed up to him, and said, " Now Mr. Michel- 
 son, you must sigh for some one : kneel down here 
 and choose ;" and he led him in front of the little 
 expectant group. What a beating of young hearts 
 at that moment ! Whom would the great man se- 
 lect? 
 
 Mr. Michelson knelt on one knee good hu- 
 mouredly ; put his hand on his heart theatrically ; 
 looked searchingly upon the many sweet faces be- 
 fore him, gave a long-drawn sigh, and presented 
 his hand to Anna. The child tripped away with him, 
 and danced him to his seat, to the amusement of 
 the by-standers, then stood glancing archly round, 
 as if to see whom she should choose. 
 
 " Sigh for me, Anna," whispered a little boy. 
 
 " No, for me," said another ; " I haven't been 
 out a long time." 
 
 " For me," said Chatham Michelson. 
 
 Anna shook her curls, pointed her toes, and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 49 
 
 danced up to Mr. Michelson^ knelt down, sighed, 
 and was soon whirling that gentleman round, with 
 a view to retiring amongst the children. But when 
 they had completed their turn, he took her up in 
 his arms and kissed her. Anna was ijidignant, and 
 struggled to free herself, upon which he sat down 
 and placed her on his knee. 
 
 " What is your name, little beauty V he said, 
 as she resolutely got off his knee, and was about to 
 run away. " Come here ; I won't kiss you any 
 more, upon my word I wonH.^' 
 
 " Annabella Burton,^' she replied. 
 
 "I thought so," said Mr. Michelson, whilst a 
 shade half of admiration, half of dislike, passed over 
 his face. ^'^Is that tall lady yonder your aunt ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Anna, " I thought you knew her ; 
 she knows you very well." 
 
 Anna glanced at her tall, magnificent aunt, who 
 was watching them with an attention so intense 
 that she seemed scarcely to breathe. 
 
 " Do you think she would dance with me ?" 
 asked Mr. Michelson. 
 
 " I dare say she would," said Anna : " I will run 
 and ask her ;" and off she flew, without waiting 
 for further permission. 
 
 Captain Burford and Nelson were forming the 
 last country dance, in which old and young were to 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 join ; and Aunt Betsey was debating with herself 
 whether she would dance or not. 
 
 " Mr. Michelson wants to know whether yon will 
 dance with him/^ said Anna abruptly. 
 
 A blaze of colour flushed through the soupcon of 
 rouge that Aunt Betsey had rubbed in, and proved 
 that she was not too old to blush. 
 
 " Decidedly not/^ she replied promptly. 
 
 '^ Not with Mr. Michelson T' asked Anna, asto- 
 nished. " I am sure you will, Aunty ; I will bring 
 him.^^ 
 
 And off she tripped again, begged Mr. Michelson 
 to make haste, or she should not have a partner, 
 led him across the room, and planted him before 
 her aunt. 
 
 " T know you will, Aunty," she said coaxingly. 
 
 " May I have the honour ?" said Mr. Michelson. 
 He looked at Miss Burton, she was pale as death : 
 he had looked upon the past as past, she had not. 
 He was shghtly taken aback. The music struck 
 Lip — he offered his arm. Scarcely knowing what 
 she did, she accepted it, and he led her to the bot- 
 tom of the dance. 
 
 Twenty years had elapsed since Miss Burton and 
 Mr. Michelson had met. At that time they were 
 as much in love with one another as their natures 
 would let them. They were not exactly engaged,
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 51 
 
 but everybody supposed they would marry_, because 
 the gentleman was bis o\vn master^ and the lady a 
 reigning beauty^ the toast of the country. He had 
 money, she had none ; but then her family, though 
 decayed, was better than his. His father had won 
 his wealth in trade, and had built Michelson Hall, 
 given his son a first-rate education, and died just as 
 he was one-and-twenty. Miss Burton was a few 
 years older than he was, and in all the full rich 
 beauty of five-and-twenty. He left her, without 
 absolutely proposing to her, to travel ; and being 
 of a nature to devote himself to the last thing or 
 person that attracted his attention by personal 
 beauty, soon forgot her in his devotion to other 
 objects. Beauty, whether in nature or art, was 
 his bane. The last lovely woman — fine picture — 
 weU-modelled statue — curiously wrought jewel — it 
 mattered not what, that struck upon his acute 
 sense of what was graceful and pleasing to the eye, 
 fixed his thoughts to intensity, until some new 
 object presented itself to replace the last, and be 
 again replaced. His eye, and not his mind, was at- 
 tracted. He could appreciate nothing justly that 
 was not visible, and at a glance presented to him as 
 beautiful. It was, therefore, no wonder that he 
 soon forgot Miss Burton. He roamed the world 
 in search of variety and amusement several years, 
 
 d2 
 
 unwERsn^ Of ^^'^^
 
 52 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 during which period he never visited Michelson 
 Hall. In Italy he met Lady Charlotte Newing- 
 ton_, a beautiful but portionless flower of the aris- 
 tocracy. Her rank tempted him to propose for her^ 
 and he was accepted. Probably, during all these 
 years, he scarcely gave a thought to Miss Burton, 
 nor did he imagine that she could think much of 
 him. She, however, ambitious of worldly position 
 and trusting to her personal appearance, refused 
 many excellent offers, under the impression that 
 when he returned home he would renew his atten- 
 tions and marry her. When she heard that he 
 was actually married, her pride was wounded to the 
 quick. To show the world that she did not csie, 
 she determined to accept the first proposal that was 
 made her. An elderly gentleman of some wealth, 
 a widower and a confirmed invalid, came forward ; 
 she accepted him. The death of his sister caused 
 a delay, and his own death, finally, prevented the 
 marriage. These circumstances told sad tales upon 
 Miss Burton^ s beauty ; and having no more valu- 
 able mental attractions to help out her decaying 
 charms, she received no more proposals. Mr. Mi- 
 chelson soon tired of Lady Charlotte, and neglect- 
 ed her. He became a great amateur in pictures, 
 and connoisseur in operas and ballets, not to men- 
 tion a persevering admirer of the " Belle of the
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 53 
 
 season/' As he had always a certain power over 
 women — partly from his fascinating manners, part- 
 ly from his undaunted boldness — he managed to 
 make a great many of the sex uncomfortable, and 
 his own wife miserable. From London to the 
 Continent, and from the Continent to London, 
 he was constantly on the move, and seldom visited 
 his place in Somersetshire for more than a few 
 weeks at a time. A few months after his wife's 
 death, in Italy, he had come to Michelson Hall, 
 accompanied by her former companion, a Miss Ru- 
 therford, a very handsome girl, who held the dubi- 
 ous post of superintendent of his household, and 
 who had been recommended to Lady Charlotte 
 during their residence abroad. His son, a boy of 
 about fifteen, was also at home ; he was destined for 
 the army. 
 
 After Lady Charlotte's death, the neighbours 
 called on Mr. Michelson, who appeared to be in 
 great grief. Amongst them was Captain Burford, 
 his old schoolfellow and quondam friend. His 
 son Chatham took a fancy to Captain Burford 
 and Nelson, and they were a good deal together. 
 It may be well to say that the name Chatham was 
 derived from the Earl of Chatham, who had been 
 the godfather of Mr. Michelson, and whose pro- 
 perty of Burton Pynsent adjoined that of Michel-
 
 54 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 son Hall. The name descended to his grandson, 
 who knew enough of history to be proud of it. 
 This property of Burton Pynsent had been a sad 
 stitch in the side of the late Mr. Burton, of Fair- 
 field, who always imagined that it was, of right, 
 his, and that the Earl of Chatham was an inter- 
 loper, because a remote branch of his family, Sir 
 William Pynsent, had left it to the Earl. 
 
 Mr. Michelson and Miss Burton now met for 
 the first time since their young days. They stood 
 opposite one another in the country dance, but 
 neither spoke a word. Miss Burton^s resolute 
 pride and splendid stiffness — for splendid it really 
 was — awed even Mr. Michelson. She sailed through 
 the dance with him majestically, giving him the 
 tips of her fingers to hold ; sailed to her seat when 
 it was concluded, just touching his arm; seated 
 herself, with an imperial bow, and left him to his 
 thoughts, — not his thoughts, properly to speak, but 
 to his eyesight. And still she was shortly after 
 thinking of the possibility of becoming Mrs. Mi- 
 chelson, of Michelson Hall ; whilst he considered 
 her really a very handsome woman, with a carriage 
 quite to be admired for its stateliness and grace. 
 
 When the party was breaking up he again got 
 hold of Anna, and gazed upon her childish beauty 
 with admiration.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 55 
 
 Captain Burford came up, and, giving Anna a 
 tap on her head, said he was sure she was tired 
 now. 
 
 '' Oh no. Captain Burford, I could dance two 
 or three hours more,^^ said the child. 
 
 " Tell Jessie I am very angry with her," said 
 the Captain : " she might have come, and Pyn- 
 sent too. Tell her, we won^t come to the harvest- 
 home." 
 
 " Oh, you mustn^t be angry with them," said 
 Anna, throwing her arms round the Captain and 
 looking up into his face, '' and you must come to 
 the harvest-home : we shall have no fun without 
 you. Will you come to our harvest-home ? " she 
 added, turning to Mr. Michelson. 
 
 Mr. Michelson smiled, and said he should be 
 very happy, but he had no invitation. 
 
 ^^ Captain Burford will invite you, — wonH you. 
 Captain Burford? and Aunty; and so would 
 Jessie and Pysent, if they were here. Aunty, 
 will you invite Mr. Michelson to our harvest- 
 home?" 
 
 Misss Burton was coming, cloaked and shawled, 
 to fetch Anna, when ' she was thus suddenly taken 
 aback. She bowed grandly, muttered ^^ Very 
 happy," and sailed on, beckoning to Anna to fol- 
 low her.
 
 56 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Captain Burford assisted Miss Burton into the 
 car, and Mr. Michelson put Anna in after her, 
 inflicting another insult on her dignity by another 
 kiss. The boys were soon seated, and the little 
 party again jogged homewards, all more or less 
 flattered by Mr. Michelson^s attention. 
 
 The harvest-home took place two or three days 
 afterwards. All the children, except Pynsent, 
 were in the wheat-field the greater part of the day, 
 and Nelson was with them. Towards evening 
 Captain Burford and Pynsent arrived, and suc- 
 ceeded in bringing Miss Burton to the field. 
 Jessie was here, there, and everywhere, with Nel- 
 son pretty generally by her side : now going to 
 the house, to superintend the drawing of cider ; 
 now in the field, encouraging the labourers ; anon 
 accompanying the teeming waggon to the wheat - 
 mow, patting the honest horses as she went 
 along. 
 
 The last waggon-load was on its way home- 
 ward, and the little gleaners were busily picking 
 up the scattered ears of corn that it had left be- 
 hind, when Mr. Michelson, accompanied by a dog, 
 made his appearance through the gate at the fm*- 
 ther end of the field. Anna spied him first, and 
 ran towards him. 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad you are come ! " she ex-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 57 
 
 claimed ; " we shall be going to supper directly, 
 and shall have such fun !" 
 
 " But I am not looking for supper/^ he replied ; 
 " I have been beating up partridges, against the 
 1st of September, Will you let me shoot over 
 your farm ? " 
 
 The little maiden drew herself up. 
 
 "We donH call it a farm, but an estate," she 
 said. 
 
 Mr. Michelson smiled, and walked towards Cap- 
 tain Burford, who came to meet him. 
 
 "Are you really come to the harvest-home?" 
 asked the Captain doubtfully. 
 
 " No, I am simply come for a walk.^ ' 
 
 Here Jessie appeared, with her apron full of 
 wheat-ears, and her bonnet adorned with corn- 
 flowers, and wreathed with wild convolvulus by 
 the boys. 
 
 "Captain Burford, make haste!" she cried; 
 then suddenly perceiving a stranger, she was about 
 to turn away, when the Captain beckoned to her, 
 and she went to him. 
 
 "Miss Burton, my Nelson^s little wife, Mr. 
 Michelson," said he proudly, as he took the blush- 
 ing giii by the hand, and presented her in form. 
 
 " I told you Mr. Michelson would come, Jessie," 
 said Anna triumphantly. 
 
 D 3
 
 58 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Jessie had a prejudice against Mr. Michelson, 
 and bent^ for her_, very stiffly ; but when that gen- 
 tleman offered his hand, and hoped they should 
 be better acquainted, she yielded hers, with a vir- 
 tuous effort to shake off ill-feeling. 
 
 The boys appeared, calling lustily for Jessie. 
 She curtseyed to Mr. Michelson, and walked away, 
 followed by him and the Captain. She passed her 
 aunt, who was sailing on with dignity. 
 
 "You cannot do less than ask Mr. Michelson 
 in, Jessie,^^ said she. 
 
 Jessie opened her eyes with astonishment. 
 "You need not stare so, my dear; it is mere 
 civility : we used to be acquainted.^' 
 
 " Papa did not like him, and was not in a posi- 
 tion to visit him,'' said Jessie simply. 
 
 " Years ago, my dear. Besides, common hospi- 
 tality— " 
 
 The gentlemen came up. Mr. Michelson took 
 off his hat grandly ; Miss Burton curtseyed grand- 
 ly. It was a treat to see them ; and Jessie looked 
 at her wheat-ears, to hide her laughter. 
 
 They all walked on together until they came 
 to the door of the house. Mr. Michelson pro- 
 fessed to be taking leave. Miss Burton looked at 
 Jessie. 
 
 " Will you walk in, Sir? " said she timidly.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 59 
 
 "Oh, do come in/^ echoed Anna, who held 
 Mr. Michelson^s hand. 
 
 Mr. Michelson said, "Thank you/' and entered, 
 very much to Aunt Betsey's satisfaction. 
 
 " Jessie ! Jessie ! " screamed Pynsent, " where are 
 youaU?'' 
 
 " Here," said Jessie, opening the door. 
 
 " Well, come along ; they are all waiting.'' 
 
 Pynsent started at seeing a stranger. 
 
 " This is Pynsent, the eldest son," said Captain 
 Burford. " Pynsent, Mr. Michelson." 
 
 Pynsent bowed. 
 
 " About the age of Chatham," said Mr. Michel- 
 son ; " strange that their names should have a 
 certain connection. I believe you belong to the 
 Pynsent family ? " 
 
 " In the seventieth generation," said Pynsent. 
 
 "We are decidedly the remaining branch of it," 
 said Aunt Betsey proudly. 
 
 " Will you come and see them at supper. Cap- 
 tain Burford?" said Pynsent. 
 
 After a few complimentary speeches they all 
 went into the kitchen, where the labourers and 
 their wives and children were seated at the huge 
 table, on which was placed a plentiful supper of 
 good homely food. Jessie, and the rest of the 
 young ones, were soon employed in helping their
 
 60 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 guests^ whilst Captain Burford cracked jokes and 
 drank cider with them all by turns. Mr. Michel- 
 son tallied to Miss Burton and looked at Jessie, 
 ^\\\o, although not handsome, had such a winning 
 smile and bright complexion, that he must, per- 
 force, admire her. There was an occasional ex- 
 pression of anxiety in his countenance, that Jessie, 
 who was a reader of character, noticed. Perhaps, 
 in spite of other scenes and new people, he was 
 thinking of Miss Rutherford, whose sudden depar- 
 ture was still unaccounted for. Jessie once ven- 
 tured to ask if she had left him, adding, that she 
 knew her slightly; but the forbidding look that 
 accompanied the "It is not quite settled yet,^' 
 prevented any further question. 
 
 " Uncle James ! Uncle James ! " shouted Anna- 
 bella, as a portly man entered the kitchen, and, 
 just glancing round, retreated as suddenly as he 
 had appeared. 
 
 All the children were after him, and in a few 
 moments hanging about him in the hall. All 
 their entreaties could not induce him to return 
 with them. 
 
 " I only looked in, my dearies, for a minute. I 
 am tired to death. T have been harvesting all day, 
 and just came to see what you were all about ; my 
 horse is waiting at the door."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 61 
 
 " YoTi must stop, Uncle. You never come now ; 
 you don't care for us. Only this once, Uncle, to 
 please us ; '' and such like appeals were made in 
 vain — Uncle James was soon in his saddle again. 
 
 " I will come soon, my lovies, and stay a long 
 time. Good bye ; drink my health, mind,'' and 
 away he trotted. 
 
 "I am sure he saw Mr. Michelson and Aunt 
 Betsey together/' whispered Jessie to Pynsent, 
 '^ and so went away." 
 
 "There is one thing I am determined upon, 
 and that is, I will never fall in love," said Pyn- 
 sent. 
 
 " You are wanted to lead the ' Harvest Home,' 
 Jessie," said Peter, interrupting his brother and 
 sister. 
 
 A great many songs had been sung, and a va- 
 riety of toasts given, amongst the jolly party of 
 labourers. Captain Burford fancied they had had 
 enough of the strong " Zomerzet," and accordingly 
 looked at his watch. 
 
 " Here you are, Jessie. Now for the song ! " he 
 said, as she re-entered the kitchen. 
 
 She began the following harvest song, in the 
 chorus to which everybody present joined ; indeed 
 most of the voices were heard in the song itself. 
 The old kitchen echoed with the sounds, and the
 
 62 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 hams and flitches in the raft shook with the beat- 
 ing of time, so vigorously executed by the more 
 musical of the party. 
 
 HAEVEST HOME. 
 
 * 
 Eeap, boys, reap ! and let the sharpen'd sickle 
 
 Cut down cheerily the full-ear'd grain ; 
 
 'Ware dark clouds — the weather it is fickle : 
 
 Eeap, boys, reap, and let's forestal the rain : 
 
 Then shall we 
 
 aaUantly 
 
 Earn our Harvest Home. 
 
 Work, boys, work ! and bind the golden treasure 
 
 Quickly up into the teeming sheaves ; 
 Eaise the shocks ! we all shall feel the pleasure 
 That hard labouring behind it leaves ; 
 Then shall we 
 Worthily 
 Earn our Harvest Home. 
 
 Load, boys, load ! and fill the roomy waggon, 
 
 Then drive carefully the patient team ; 
 
 Help, all hands, and let's forego the flagon 
 
 Till old Sol withdraws his latest beam ; 
 
 So shall wo 
 
 Steadily 
 
 Earn our Harvest Home. 
 
 Drink, boys, drink ! our labour it is ended ; 
 Blow, ye winds, and fall, ye rain and hail. 
 Drink, boys, drmk ! our treasm'c is defended, 
 Eeady now for winnow and for flail ; 
 Thus have we 
 Honestly 
 Earn'd om- Harvest Home.
 
 63 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Nay, shrink not from the word ' farewell,' 
 As if 'twere friendship's final knell ; 
 
 Such fears may prove but vain : 
 So changeful is life's fleeting day,- — 
 Whene'er we sever, hope may say 
 
 'We part to meet again.' " — Baeto]S". 
 
 In the course of a few months the happy family 
 at Fairfield was scattered, and several of its mem- 
 bers tm-ned adrift upon the wide, wild ocean of 
 life, to begin their nautical education, and learn, 
 as best they might, how to battle with the ele- 
 ments, and guide their ship to the various ports 
 at which she was destined to stop dming her 
 course, supposing she was not wrecked at her 
 outset. 
 
 The party who met together to laugh at the 
 jovial uproar of a Harvest Home, were, by the 
 following New Yearns Day, reduced to one-half. 
 Mr. Michelson was the first to take his departure 
 from the country. All the butler^s inquiries 
 after Miss Rutherford proved unavailing ; and Mr.
 
 6i SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Michelson went to London, and thence abroad, in 
 less tlian a month after her sudden departure, for 
 what purpose nobody but himself knew. He had 
 called once or twice at Fairfield, and managed to 
 revive all Miss Burton^ s ancient ambitious hopes. 
 Laugh not, ye youthful belles, at poor Aunt 
 Betsey, who, on the very shady side of forty, has 
 been getting up her old taste for flirtation, her old 
 beauty, and her old affection, at sight of her old 
 lover. It is melancholy to see life so wasted ; and 
 still more melancholy to know that the still fasci- 
 nating lover is only amusing himself with her 
 weakness and laughing at her folly; but he de- 
 parted, and again left behind him the heart-burn- 
 ings and sickness of hope that he had left years 
 agone. Oh, ye youthful belles, pity, but do not 
 laugh at Aunt Betsey ; and above all, lay in 4uch 
 a store of mental riches yourselves during the 
 years of your grace and loveliness, that you may 
 have what she has not when your charms fade — a 
 well- cultivated and religious mind. 
 
 Nelson was the next to leave. With various 
 hopes and fears, aspirations and regrets, he bade 
 farewell to his native town and native country. 
 His father kept a brave face at the parting, but 
 was sad at heart. Ten years in Lidia! Before 
 his boy returned from his long self-exile, he might
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 65 
 
 be in his grave. Nelson^ too, began to realize 
 that melancholy truth when it was too late, and 
 his courage sank when he thought of it. The 
 land of his dreams — the glory of his dreams — 
 the fame of his dreams — all melted into night- 
 vaponrs before the waking sense of a ten years' 
 separation from those he loved. Poor Jessie, 
 too, — she did not hide her tears, but let them 
 fall on her sister's face when she nestled up 
 to her, and tried to comfort her, sobbing her 
 own child-heart out in her attempts at consola- 
 tion. They all loved and esteemed the quiet, 
 straightforward, resolute Nelson ; as boys and 
 girls always esteem those who, whilst they attend 
 to their studies, still prove themselves bold and 
 gallant. The sailor and the soldier were mingled 
 in his nature, and we are mistaken if he does not 
 prove himself as brave an officer in the Indian 
 army as his father did in the Indian navy. Jessie 
 had worked him a purse, into which Anna had put 
 her only crooked sixpence for luck, which he was 
 never to take out of the purse if he were ever so 
 poor. He had begged a tress of Jessie's bright 
 golden hair, and promised her a tiger's skin in 
 return for it; at which she shuddered, and en- 
 treated him not to run into danger. Very natural 
 and very affecting were the little boy and girl
 
 66 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 tokens of friendship exchanged between the pair ; 
 and Captain Burford was pleased to see that the 
 prospect of separation warmed what he called his 
 son^s " north-eastersj" meaning his feelings, " into 
 a more south-westerly breeze." 
 
 Captain Burford^ s last present to his son was 
 the Holy Bible, in which he had written the words, 
 '' Fight the good fight of faith." 
 
 " Read it, boy, and never be ashamed of it," he 
 said solemnly ; '' I have weathered many a storm, 
 and been on strange waters, but have always found 
 that book my surest compass." 
 
 And so Nelson departed. 
 
 Peter was the next to leave the house of his 
 birth, and to brave the dangers of the ocean. He 
 went as midshipman in a gallant ship, under a 
 gallant commander, and was too brave to shed a 
 tear; albeit he made many wry faces to restrain 
 it. Everybody missed the merry, joyous Peter, 
 and none so much as his twin-sister Anna. But 
 her turn came next. 
 
 Her sister had been hard at work for her ever 
 since the arrival of their Uncle Timothy's letter ; 
 and perhaps the necessity of exertion had been the 
 best cure for the sorrow she felt at her friend Nel- 
 son's departure. How to make smart new frocks 
 out of their poor Mamma's dresses, now for the
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 67 
 
 first time brought to light ; how to cut and con- 
 trive pieces of muslin and calico to the best ad- 
 vantage, and to direct the young workwoman to 
 do the same, was an addition to Jessicas daily- 
 tasks, which filled up the small leisure she might 
 have found for wondering whether Nelson would 
 think of her when absent. Moreover Anna was 
 so wild and wilful, that her loving heart mourned 
 when she considered that the discipline of a school 
 was not, perhaps, the best kind of training for her ; 
 and she spent many a stray half-hour in talking 
 tenderly to the child, and praying her to be good. 
 
 Captain Burford took his little ward to London. 
 They had a pleasant but fatiguing journey. Anna 
 was much admired, much questioned, and much 
 flattered, by her different coach companions, and 
 soon recovered her spirits. She talked incessantly 
 until she fell asleep at night, in Captain Bur- 
 ford's arms, and awoke, in the early morning, in 
 London. 
 
 " 5, Duke-street,^' said Captain Burford, to the 
 driver of the hackney-coach ; cabs were not then 
 as plentiful as they are now. 
 
 Uncle Timothy, in his dining-room, by a large 
 fire, fast asleep in his easy-chair. A fine tabby 
 cat asleep on his knee; the table covered with a 
 tea and coffee service; cold meat on the side-
 
 68 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 board, and candles burnt low. A ring at the door- 
 bell. Up starts Uncle Timothy — down tumbles 
 Puss in surprise. Such a thundering knock ! Out 
 goes Uncle Timothy, and stumbles over his house- 
 keeper, muttering, " Bless me ! bless me ! " In 
 blusters Captain Burford, shakes hands with Uncle 
 Timothy, pushes Anna forwards, and stands still 
 to see what impression she makes. 
 
 '^ Come in, little girl, come in," is the only 
 visible, or rather audible, effect of the impression. 
 
 Anna goes in, and then holds out her hand, and 
 says, '^^How do you do. Uncle Timothy? thank 
 you for putting me to school.^^ 
 
 So far Jessie had tutored her, but not to restrain 
 the tears that came into her eyes. 
 
 Uncle Timothy shook hands with her, looked at 
 her, and exclaimed — 
 
 " Bless me ! the father and aunt all over." 
 
 " WouldnH you like to come upstairs. Miss ? " 
 said the housekeeper. 
 
 " Oh ! very much indeed," said poor Anna, has- 
 tening out of the room. 
 
 No sooner was she upstairs, than she began to 
 cry very heartily. 
 
 " DonH cry, that's a dear," said Mrs. Hicks, 
 the housekeeper. '^ There aint a better, kinder 
 man in the world than your uncle ; only he's odd 
 at first."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 69 
 
 " I canH stay here — I must go home again — I 
 won^t go to school," said Anna. 
 
 " It^s all new to you now, my dear ; but you will 
 soon get used to everything. We^U go and see 
 London by-and-by, and all the fine sights. I dare 
 say you never see a Christmas pantomime ?" 
 
 '^'^A what?" said Anna, brightening up. 
 
 " Oh, such a sight ! we shall see. But now take 
 off your bonnet. Dear, dear, there^s curls !" 
 
 And so Mrs. Hicks coaxed and flattered Anna 
 into tranquillity, and finally conducted her down 
 to breakfast. 
 
 Uncle Timothy shakes hands with her again, 
 and pats her on the head ; and good Captain Bur- 
 ford gives her a hearty kiss, which nearly makes 
 her cry again; but she thinks of the Christmas 
 pantomime and all the London sights, and cheers 
 up. Uncle Timothy and Captain Burford, though 
 to all appearance very different sort of people, have 
 still many points of resemblance, as indeed most 
 of us have. They soon get on very well together, 
 and whilst they are talking, Anna makes a very 
 good breakfast ; after which, the housekeeper in- 
 sists on her going to bed. She resists at first, but 
 when assured that she will be fit for no sight- 
 seeing unless she sleeps, she resigns herself, and 
 is soon fast asleep, and dreaming of Fairfield, the 
 coach, and London shows.
 
 70 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 When she awoke the gentlemen were both out ; 
 but Mrs. Hicks was commissioned to amuse her, 
 and accordingly took her to see Madame Tussaud^s 
 wax-work. In the evening she went with her 
 uncle and Captain Burford to the play^ and it is 
 difficult to say whether Captain Burford or his 
 little ward drew down the most scandal on their 
 Avorthy host. The Captain^ s laughter was so loud, 
 that it drowned Anna's ; but the pair attracted the 
 attention of their neighbours by the unfashionable 
 exuberance of their merriment, and delighted Mr. 
 Barnard beyond expression thereby. 
 
 Anna rose the following morning with far dif- 
 ferent feelings : she was to go to school. Not all 
 her good resolutions would make her like school, 
 she was sure. Her new friend, Mrs. Hicks, who 
 had taken a great fancy to her, and had already 
 begun to spoil her, did her best to comfort her : 
 it was all in vain. She could eat no breakfast, 
 and Uncle Timothy looked compassionately at her 
 through his spectacles. 
 
 " You must come and see me, or rather Mrs. 
 Hicks," he said, '' every holiday ; I dare say Miss 
 Primmerton will allow you." 
 
 '' Oh ! thank you. Uncle Timothy," said Anna, 
 letting fall the tears that she had been trying 
 hard to restrain. " Do you think I may come to- 
 morrow ?"
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 71 
 
 " We shall see/' said Uncle Timotliy. 
 
 ^' Not if you go there in tears/' suggested Cap- 
 tain Burford. " Cheer up^ little woman ! Why^ 
 it was only the other day you said that if you were 
 a inan_, you would be a sailor. A pretty sailor, 
 "indeed 1" 
 
 Poor Anna tried to smile, but the tears would 
 fall. Uncle Timothy fidgeted, and said he had a 
 patient to see before he could go with his niece to 
 Miss Primmerton's establishment. He went out, 
 and then his carriage came to the door, and Anna's 
 boxes were put into it. Captain Burford told her 
 to remember Midsummer, and to try to learn, and 
 be a good girl ; and the more he talked, the more 
 she cried. Uncle Timothy came back with his 
 pockets looking much larger than when he went 
 out. He drew forth a beautiful gilt book, and 
 then a nondescript little ornament, and finally a 
 packet full of sweetmeats; before he had com- 
 pleted these operations, a shopboy came to the 
 door with the most perfect of workboxes ; and all 
 these purchases were duly presented to Anna, who 
 felt it absolutely incumbent upon her to dry her 
 tears, and look up at Uncle Timothy. The little 
 girl's bright black eyes, sparkling with tear-drops, 
 met the kind, gentle glance of her relative, and in 
 a moment, for the first time, her arms were round 
 his neck, and her lips on his cheek.
 
 72 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Bless me ! bless me ! ^^ said Uncle Timothy in 
 a flurry, adjusting his wig first, and then putting 
 his arm tenderly round her waist. 
 
 " She takes one by storm always/' said Captain 
 Burford, " even when one ought to scold her. 
 Now, little minx, run away, and dry your tears.'' 
 
 Anna went upstairs. 
 
 " I wish she were not so like her father's 
 family," said Uncle Timothy : " that beauty ! that 
 beauty ! it is a sad temptation." 
 
 ^^ The eldest girl is the picture of her mother, 
 and the eldest boy something like you," said Cap- 
 tain Burford. "There never was such a girl as 
 my Jessie. She and my son Nelson are engaged." 
 
 "What, already ?" said Mr. Barnard, looking 
 surprised. 
 
 Anna interrupted the reply. She came in 
 smiling, and, going up to Uncle Timothy, told 
 him that she liked her work-box very much, and 
 would try to like Avork; that the book was a beau- 
 tiful story, full of pictures, and that she should 
 take the sweetmeats to school, to give her play- 
 fellows. 
 
 "But may I leave my book here, to read on 
 holidays ? " she added, " because I mean to work 
 at school." 
 
 " To be sure," said Uncle Timothy, opening his 
 bookcase and patting her on the head.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 73 
 
 They drove to Miss Primmerton^s Establish- 
 ment, situated near Kensington Gardens. They 
 were shown into a handsome drawing-room, and 
 Miss Primmerton soon appeared. She was a short 
 lady, very short ; upright, very upright, in person, 
 and doubtless in principles. She had very promi- 
 nent features, and a thin face; wore spectacles, 
 and carried an eye-glass. Her eyes were large 
 and dark, and whether it was that they projected 
 beyond the eyelids, and so were by nature in- 
 tended to see more than other eyes, or whether a 
 habit of general observation had given them pecu- 
 liar power, certain it is that they seemed to look 
 every way at the same time: for instance, although 
 she professed to be talking principally to Mr. Bar- 
 nard, Captain Burford felt sure that she was ad- 
 dressing him, and Anna could have shrunk into 
 an egg-shell, to avoid the searching side-looks that 
 fell upon her. It need scarcely be said that the 
 head of a first-rate West-end school was gifted 
 with, or had acquired, most perfect manners, only 
 the very lax would have considered them too stiff, 
 and the impertinent too resolutely scholastic. I 
 must add, as one of the supporters of Miss Prim- 
 merton^s reputation for gentility, that she did not 
 consider herself a schoolmistress, or her house 
 a school; she objected to the title of governess 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 as applied to herself, and anniMlated by a glance 
 everybody who mentioned her as in any way con- 
 nected with a seminary or establishment. ^Tiat 
 she did call herself or her household it would be 
 difficult to say ; but she wished the whole to be 
 considered as a " family." The young ladies used 
 to give it the title of the " Happy Family," one of 
 them having so named it after a certain caged col- 
 lection of creatures to be seen near the National 
 Gallery. As the cat always appeared to them the 
 chief of that "happy family," they called Miss 
 Primmerton "Puss;" the head English teacher 
 was honoured by being " the Owl," or " Minerva ;" 
 and a good-tempered French woman was " Guinea- 
 pig ;" the girls themselves, and one or two under- 
 teachers, bore the various denominations of the 
 rats, mice, small birds, etc., of that united party ; 
 and much secret mirth was caused, whenever they 
 could remove themselves from Miss Primmerton^s 
 Argus eyes (which was but seldom), by bandying 
 about these different epithets. 
 
 " Miss Burton is to be entirely under my charge 
 for four years, as a member of my family, and to 
 be taught whatever I think her capable of acquir- 
 ing ? " said Miss Primmerton. 
 
 " Just so," replied Mr. Barnard. " Should it be 
 well for her to assist in your school as a teacher
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 75 
 
 afterwards, I suppose slie would be still treated 
 like your other pupils, as she must, of course, 
 continue to learn as well ?'' 
 
 ''Our little circle can scarcely be termed a 
 school; we are a limited number, and quite a 
 family party. My young friends are all equally 
 at home." Miss Primmerton said this with dig- 
 nity, and terrified her last " young friend " by a 
 side glance from the prominent orbs. 
 
 " The deuce is in it," said the Captain gruffly, 
 who had taken an aversion to Miss Primmerton, 
 "if a school isn^t a school all the world over. 
 Some are good and some are bad ; yours, Ma^am, 
 I hear, is first-rate." 
 
 Miss Primmerton, with increased dignity, grow- 
 ing red, and looking quite tall — 
 
 " We have great advantages. Bochsa has con- 
 sented to give instructions on the harp. I have, 
 with immense difficulty, prevailed on Herz to 
 give occasional piano lessons. I have secured 
 Harding for drawing, and Cruvelli for singing. 
 We have a French teacher in the house, so that 
 nothing but French is spoken amongst us ; and a 
 first-rate Italian master." 
 
 The Captain shrugged his shoulders, and looked 
 at Anna. 
 
 " You will astonish the natives when you come 
 
 E 2
 
 76 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 back, child/' he said. " I hope. Ma'am, you will 
 teach her geography and the use of the compass, 
 for she has determined upon being a sailor." 
 
 Miss Primmerton got up a faint smile, which 
 drew the corner of one side of her mouth upon a 
 level with her nose, whilst the other corner re- 
 mained stationary. 
 
 " I shall be glad to see my niece whenever there 
 is a holiday,'' said Mr. Barnard, " and wiU send 
 for her, if she will drop me a line." 
 
 " I allow only one afternoon every month ; holi- 
 days interfere with studies. Friends are requested 
 to be kind enough to call on a Saturday. I rarely 
 permit my young friends to see any one at other 
 uncertain periods ; it unfits them for their course 
 of daily duties. I should also mention that I make 
 a point of reading every letter and note that either 
 leaves or enters my house." 
 
 Poor Anna ! she thought of her diary, of pour- 
 ing out her heart to Jessie : this was a cruel dis- 
 appointment to begin with. 
 
 " Madam," said the Captain, " do you think her 
 brothers and sister will write anything improper 
 to the child, or she to them ? Zounds ! that is a 
 hard rule ; sailors are better off than that." 
 
 " It is mine. Sir. It prevents much mischief, 
 that you may not, perhaps, understand ; and there
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. n 
 
 ought not to be any secrets between young people 
 and a friend placed in my position.-'^ 
 
 ^^ I think, Captain," said Uncle Timothy, who 
 began to fear a breeze, "that we are detaining 
 Miss Primmerton. When shall I see my little 
 niece, Madam?" 
 
 '^^She can go to you the first Saturday of the 
 ensuing month. If you will excuse my saying so, 
 I colisider that it would be better for her not to 
 see you again before that period." 
 
 The tears came into Annans eyes. Captain 
 Burford went to her, and began to condole with 
 her. Uncle Timothy said he hoped she would be 
 a good little girl ; then, turning gently to Miss 
 Primmerton, he added, in an under tone aside, 
 '* I am sure. Madam, you will be kind to her. She 
 is an orphan, and that is recommendation enough. 
 We shall put implicit faith in you. If she is ill, 
 and if you have no objection, I should be fflad to 
 be allowed to attend upon her ; and if I can ever 
 be of service to you in a professional way, I shall 
 be very happy. I am thankful to have made my 
 fortune, and therefore seldom need fees, except 
 from those who can well afford it." 
 
 Miss Primmerton softened. Eeal kind feeling 
 soon reaches the heart, and hers was not harder 
 by nature than others, only the formality, that she
 
 78 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 considered a duty^ hid whatever original warmth 
 she still retained. 
 
 "You may depend on me," she said gravely, 
 "and I am much obliged to you for your kind 
 offer. What is your name, my dear ?" turning to 
 Anna, and taking her hand. 
 
 " Annabella, Ma'am," said the child, looking up 
 through her tears. 
 
 "I hope, Annabella, we shall be very good 
 friends," said Miss Primmerton with formal kind- 
 ness. 
 
 " By Jove, you gave that old hag a fee, instead 
 of taking one, doctor," said Captain Burford when 
 he had given Anna her last kiss, and was seated 
 by Uncle Timothy in the carriage. " If you are 
 so fascinating, she will think you have fallen in 
 love with her." 
 
 " Oh no ! upon my honour, I only — " said the 
 doctor, quite confused. The bare idea of falling 
 in love always upset him. 
 
 Captain Burford laughed heartily. 
 
 " I can't bear her," he said, when he ceased ; 
 " that dear child's spirit will be broken." 
 
 The "dear child" was taken to her bedroom 
 by Miss Primmerton, followed thither by her 
 boxes and one of the teachers. There were two 
 neat beds without curtains, two chests of drawers.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 79 
 
 two washhand-stands, one horse with four towels 
 thereon ; in shorty everything requisite for two 
 young ladies. 
 
 '^ You will be required to be very neat ; to keep 
 your drawers in order, and to mend your clothes^ 
 under the direction of Miss Meek/^ said Miss 
 Primmerton to Anna. 
 
 Miss Meekj the young lady present, looked as 
 though her nature did not belie her name. 
 
 " You must rise at six ; be particular in your 
 dress and person, and you must be in bed at half- 
 past nine. I allow no noise in your bed-rooms. 
 The young lady who sleeps in this room is very quiet. 
 Miss Meek, will you see that Miss Burton^ s clothes 
 are arranged, and then bring her to the study ?" 
 
 Having concluded her ordinary directions, Miss 
 Primmerton left the room. Anna looked at Miss 
 Meek, and, seeing something tearful in the ex- 
 pression of her face, began to cry. Miss Meek 
 seemed much inclined to join her, but, checking 
 herself, asked her to begin to unpack her clothes. 
 Anna gave Miss Meek the key, sobbing out that 
 she could not unlock her box. The box was un- 
 locked, and the chest of drawers was soon filled. 
 Miss Meek brushed Annans long curls for her, and 
 gave her a kiss, which voluntary act occasioned 
 more tears.
 
 80 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 They went down to the study. Miss Primmer- 
 ton came forward^ and_, taking Anna by the hand, 
 formally introduced her to some nine or ten girls, 
 of ages varying from twelve to seventeen, who all 
 looked up at her from their books, muttered " How 
 do you do ? " and continued to stare at her until 
 Miss Primmerton told them, like Dr. Blimber, 
 "to resume their studies." Miss Primmerton's 
 number was twelve, but the others were with mas- 
 ters. Anna was then examined as to her acquire- 
 ments, and, being found sadly deficient, was given 
 over to Miss Meek for the present, which pleased 
 her much. 
 
 Her attention was soon engrossed by what she 
 considered the wonderful learning of the " family." 
 The unknown tongues they talked, the lessons 
 they learnt, the readings they read, the themes they 
 composed, the drawings they drew, the music they 
 played, cast her into a perfect dream of amazement 
 and terror. How should she ever manage to get 
 through one tithe of such a vast amount of erudi- 
 tion? Her courage, never the mightiest when 
 learning was the enemy to be opposed, sank to 
 zero. When the dinner-hour came, and she laid 
 down the first French lesson-book, in which Miss 
 Meek had been patiently looking, in the flattering 
 notion that Anna was doing the same, she hoped
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 81 
 
 there might be a respite. No such thing : French 
 was indefatigably spoken by the few who ventured 
 to speak ; and Miss Primmerton's eyes were more 
 omnipresent than ever. She felt that they saw 
 every mouthful she ate_, and she was afraid of chok- 
 ing beneath their influence. Not that Miss Prim- 
 merton addressed her; she was allowed the first 
 day to get into the routine as she best could. 
 
 "Miss Colville/' or "Mademoiselle Colville/' 
 for it was aU in French^ " how you stoop ! " said 
 Miss Primmerton. 
 
 Miss Colville drew up. 
 
 " My dear Miss Nicholson^ pray do not eat in 
 that voracious manner." — " Shall I give you some 
 more beef, Miss Mary T^ — "You poke your head 
 hke a horse^ Miss Grant/ ^ — and so on. 
 
 Anna heard one young lady, who sat next her, 
 murmur to another_, " Poor Puss !" 
 
 " What were you saying, Mademoiselle ?" 
 
 " Nothing, Ma^am," was the reply. 
 
 The dinner was excellent. No young lady could 
 possibly complain at home that she had not enough 
 to eat, or that the viands were ill- served or ill- 
 cooked. Two neat parlour-maids waited, who put 
 Anna into a great fright when they came for her 
 plate, and occasioned Miss Primmerton^s eyes to be 
 turned full upon her. The kind French teacher, 
 
 E 3
 
 82 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 who was a married woman, and had a husband and 
 children in her own country, compassionated Anna, 
 and spoke to her once or twice in broken English, 
 but she was too much frightened to reply ; and it 
 must have been something very terrible to bridle 
 her tongue. She was so awkward, that Miss Prim- 
 merton was panting to speak to her, and when she 
 upset a few drops of water on the cloth, that ex- 
 cellent lady could restrain herself no longer, but 
 said — 
 
 " My dear Miss Annabella, you must be careful.^' 
 The eleven young ladies looked at Anna, which 
 made her blush scarlet, and one of them said, 
 " Qu'elleestjolie, la petite P' which drew from Miss 
 Primmerton the excellent but trite motto, "La 
 beauten'est que j^assagere , 7nais la bonte dure.'' 
 
 Anna knew they were talking of her, and was 
 ready to cry : it was so very hard, she thought, to 
 be in England and yet not understand a word that 
 was spoken. 
 
 After dinner Miss Primmerton left them with 
 a teacher for about ten minutes. They did not a 
 appear to be afraid of the teacher, so they gave 
 vent to their long suppressed conversation, some 
 in French, some in English, as the " Franqais, 
 Mesdemoiselles /" of the teacher was unheeded. 
 One delicate-looking, pretty girl came up to the
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 83 
 
 comer where Anna had ensconced herself, and 
 began to talk to her kindly. Annans heart was 
 opened at once, and her companion had already 
 learnt how many relatives she had, where she lived, 
 and much more, when Miss Primmerton appeared, 
 and caused a dead silence. 
 
 Miss Primmerton ordered a walk in Kensington 
 Gardens, and the young ladies obeyed. Anna was 
 fortunate in being consigned to the companionship 
 of Louisa Colville, the pretty girl who had pre- 
 viously spoken to her ; but was much disappointed 
 when she found that they were obliged to walk 
 primly, two and two ; to attend to their carriage 
 and their toes ; requested not to look about them, 
 and to speak little and quietly. How she longed to 
 run and get warm, as she saw some little children 
 doing ; and above all, how she sighed for the frozen 
 duck-pond at home, on which she had been used 
 to slide with her brothers ! They returned home 
 with cold fingers and red noses, to set to work 
 again. How could she learn that French lesson ? 
 she spelt it in English, and could make nothing of 
 it ; she did not know what the accents were. Louisa 
 Colville read it over to her a great many times, 
 and somehow or other she caught it by ear, — she 
 could not have read one word of it in any other 
 book, — and she said it in fear and trembling, to
 
 84 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Miss Primmerton herself, who praised lier, and 
 said in French that she seemed a quick child. Quick 
 she waSj but not persevering, as Miss Primmerton, 
 the teachers, and Anna found afterwards, to their 
 cost. 
 
 They had tea, at which it was their custom to 
 speak Italian; so the conversation was even less 
 general than at dinner, and Miss Primmerton^s 
 eyes more prominent and omnipresent than ever. 
 
 '^ Miss Colville, your nose will be literaUy in the 
 butter by-and-by," she remarked amongst other 
 things, taking up her eye-glass in addition to her 
 spectacles. 
 
 Miss Colville was frequently a victim, because 
 she was rather shy, rather awkward, yet sometimes, 
 when roused, rather pert. Anna looked at her 
 friend. 
 
 " I am so near-sighted. Ma'am, and I don't 
 wear spectacles ; I wish I did, and an eye-glass," 
 was the reply. 
 
 The girls tittered, and Miss Primmerton grew 
 red. 
 
 " Miss Colville, you are pert,'' said Miss Prim- 
 merton, growing redder. 
 
 "I beg your 'pardon. Ma'am," said Miss Col- 
 ville, " I did not intend to be pert, but merely to 
 say that I was near-sighted."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 85 
 
 INIiss Primmerton was reduced to silence, and 
 they soon returned to their studies. Even the 
 evening was devoted to learning, and, seated 
 round the back drawing-room tables, they read 
 instructive books, and were questioned on what 
 they read, by way of amusement. Miss Prim- 
 merton did her duty, and more than her duty : 
 but she said that as hers was a finishing " fa- 
 mily,^^ no time was to be lost. The younger 
 girls were not worked quite so hard, but Anna felt 
 sure that she should never get through her share 
 of lessons. They went to bed at half-past eight, 
 and enjoyed half an hour^s freedom. Louisa Col- 
 ville was Annans fellow-lodger, to her great de- 
 light. Miss Primmerton had put them together 
 as a punishment to Miss Colville, who had been 
 the means of inducing another young lady into 
 nocturnal conversations of too lengthy a nature, 
 and was therefore separated from her. She was 
 too anxious to discover Annans private history, 
 to talk much of the '^'^ Family,^' but she assured 
 her that " Miss Primmerton was a worthy old 
 cat, only she was too much given to prowling, 
 mousing, and scratching, and could see in the dark.^' 
 
 Miss Primmerton came precisely at half-past 
 nine to extinguish the light. Before doing so she 
 flashed the candle across the faces of the two
 
 86 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 girls,, in order to see whether they were asleep ; and 
 having thus concluded the duties of her very hard 
 day, she descended to the study, and regaled herself 
 and principal teachers with something comfort- 
 able in the eating and drinking way. 
 
 Anna meanwhile had pretended to be asleep, 
 until her companion was asleep, and then she slipped 
 quietly out of bed, knelt down, and prayed God to 
 bless all the dear friends she had left behind her, 
 her Uncle Timothy, and Nelson, far away on the 
 great ocean. She leant her face on the bed, and 
 let her tears melt into it. She asked to be made 
 good, and then again prayed for her dear sister. 
 Oh ! she had never known how much she loved her 
 until that sad day, — poor child ! perhaps the first 
 day of real trial that she had ever passed — unshared, 
 unsoftened trial. School is, truly, an epitome of 
 the world, the first hard stage in the difficult 
 course of life.
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Though, by a sickly taste betray'd, 
 Some will dispraise the lovely maid, 
 
 With fearless pride I say 
 That she is healthful, fleet, and strong, 
 And down the rocks can leap along, 
 
 Lite rivulets in May. 
 
 " And she hath snules to earth unknown. 
 Smiles that with motion of their own 
 
 Do spread, and sink, and rise ; 
 That come and go with endless play, 
 And ever, as they pass away, 
 
 Are hidden m her eyes." — Wobdswoeth. 
 
 '' Uncle Timothy, I did not know that you had a 
 baby," said Anna to her uncle, on that happy 
 "^ first Saturday of the month," named by Miss 
 Primmerton as the holiday. 
 
 " My dear, what do you mean ? " said Uncle 
 Timothy, getting very red and looking terrified. 
 
 " Oh ! that dear little baby that went away when 
 you were out. I wanted to keep it, but the lady 
 said, as she had seen you, she would not stay any 
 longer. Is that your wife, Uncle Timothy ?" 
 
 " Bless me ! bless me ! what odd questions !
 
 88 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 My dear, the baby is my ward, and the lady is 
 taking care of her. You must ask no more ques- 
 tions about her : if you do not, I will take you to 
 see her next month/^ 
 
 '' Very well, Uncle Timothy," said Anna, look- 
 ing very much as if she would like to ask a great 
 many more questions. " But she is such a sweet 
 baby ; lovely dark, dark blue eyes, and hair curling 
 already under her cap, quite brown hair, — and 
 she came to me directly, and laughed, and pulled 
 my hair : you should have seen her laugh ! And 
 such a nice lady. Uncle Timothy ! is she her 
 mother ? Oh ! I forgot, I must not ask any ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " And how do you like school, and Miss Prim- 
 merton, my dear V 
 
 " Not very much. Uncle Timothy. There is so 
 much to learn, and I am so backward. Miss Prim- 
 merton says. There is so much to learn ! it is all 
 day long reading, and writing, and grammar, and 
 geography, and history, and that hard word about 
 the gods and goddesses that I couldnH read : and 
 another about the moon and stars, and suns ; and 
 then music, and French, and drawing, — and that is 
 not half that the big girls have to do. And Sun- 
 days we have no more time : there are the ser- 
 mons to write out, and questions to answer out of
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 89 
 
 the Bible, and hymns and collects and catechism, 
 and sacred reading ; so much more than I used to 
 do with Jessie, and yet I felt better with her, I 
 don^t know why." 
 
 Uncle Timothy guessed why, but said nothing. 
 
 " And how do you like your schoolfellows, my 
 dear?" he asked. 
 
 a Very well — some of them. A great many tease 
 me, and laugh at me when I canH learn, and make 
 fun of my old-fashioned frocks ; but I donH much 
 care, only I can't bear them when they do it. But 
 I love Louisa Colville, dearly." 
 
 '^ And who is she ?" asked Uncle Timothy. 
 
 " She sleeps in my room. Her papa and mamma 
 are in India : she showed me where they were on 
 the big map the other day, a great way off, where 
 Nelson is gone. I hope they will know Nelson. 
 Louisa has been with Miss Primmerton ever since 
 she was seven, and now she is past thirteen, and 
 she stays the holidays, which is very dull ; only she 
 says Miss Primmerton is not half so strict and 
 cross in the holidays. Louisa is very kind to me, 
 and takes my part, and helps me with my lessons." 
 
 ^' Have you written home ?" asked Uncle Ti- 
 mothy. 
 
 "Yes," replied Anna with a downcast face. 
 " Oh, such a stiff letter ! Miss Primmerton saw
 
 90 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 it, and made me alter it, and write it like a copy 
 slip. I am sure Jessie will think me altered. Un- 
 cle Timothy, will you give me a sheet of paper, 
 and a pen and ink, and let me write a letter here ? 
 Tliere will be no harm in that, you know, because 
 Miss Primmerton only said that she saw all the 
 letters that left her house, but she needn't see 
 those that leave yours V 
 
 Uncle Timothy was half afraid there was a little 
 sophistry in this reasoning, but as he wished the 
 sisters to have unrestrained intercourse, he readily 
 granted Anna's request, and began to prepare the 
 writing materials at once. 
 
 Whilst Anna was pouring out her heart, in very 
 bad spelling and worse writing, to her sister. Uncle 
 Timothy was in close conversation with Mrs. Hicks, 
 after which he again went to see patients. When 
 Anna had completed her letter, Mrs. Hicks came 
 to take her for a walk. They went into Bond- 
 street, and Mrs. Hicks conducted her to the pri- 
 vate door of a house, on which was inscribed 
 "Madlle. Fourbillon, milliner and dress-maker." 
 They were shown upstairs, and Madlle. Fourbillon 
 was requested to take Anna's measure for two new 
 frocks, with corresponding walking apparel. She 
 was told to make them simple but good; and Mrs. 
 Hicks informed her that the yomig lady was a niece
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 91 
 
 of Mr. Timotliy Barnard^ of Duke-street. Uncle 
 Timothy would certainly have called Madlle. Four- 
 billon demonstrative. She clasped her hands and 
 exclaimed_, '^ The worthy man ! The superior medi- 
 cine ! The distinguished cheerurgeon ! He attend 
 me, Meess, and charge me noting.^^ 
 
 " The girls will not laugh at my old-fashioned 
 frocks now_, or wonder that I have no ornaments/^ 
 said Anna, when she returned to. Duke-street. 
 
 " But, my deary/^ said Uncle Timothy, " you 
 must not be proud of the new ones. Neat clothes 
 are all very well, and I should like you to be pro- 
 perly dressed; but you must remember that it is 
 ' a meek and quiet spirit ' that God loves." 
 
 " That is what Mamma used to say, and Jessie 
 says sometimes : you are like them, I think. Un- 
 cle Timothy. But the girls like fine clothes and 
 grand people. I shall tell them about Mr. Michel- 
 son. They wouldn't believe me when I said we 
 ought to have the great house that the Earl of 
 Chatham used to live in.'' 
 
 Uncle Timothy could not help smiling, whilst he 
 shook his head, and murmured to the bookshelf, 
 " The old leaven, alas ! Pride of beauty — pride 
 of family — and nothing else. God help you, poor 
 child ! man cannot." 
 
 Anna looked wistfully into his face.
 
 92 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " I didn^t mean to do wrong, Uncle Timothy," 
 she said. 
 
 " NO;, my dear, I am sure of that. But dinner 
 is ready, and we must not forget that you must be 
 home before nine o'clock." 
 
 " Not home^ Uncle Timothy ; at school. This 
 is my London home, and Fairfield is my proper 
 home. School is not like home, though Miss 
 Primmerton says it is." 
 
 Anna made such progress in her studies as a 
 child of quick abilities but unstudious nature ge- 
 nerally does. She got on rapidly with all that 
 gave her no trouble. She soon learnt to speak 
 French fluently, but shed innumerable tears over 
 the easiest exercises in that language. She picked 
 up more Italian, orally, than many bigger girls, 
 because it entered into her mind, she knew not 
 how. She managed to play pretty tunes by ear, 
 but was ages before she learnt the first scale, or 
 Cramer's first lesson, by note. She read and wrote 
 carelessly, and rarely managed to say a perfect les- 
 son unless Madame, or Louisa Colville taught it to 
 her first. She was alternately teased and spoilt by 
 the girls — scolded and secretly petted by Miss 
 Primmerton — in short, educated in the very way 
 she ought not to have been. Sometimes allowed 
 the free vent of her hot, quick temper — at others
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 93 
 
 punished for the display of it; instead of being 
 quietly and consistently checked and reasoned with, 
 as Jessie had tried to do. 
 
 During her first half-year of school-life she 
 learnt as much^ and perhaps more, than most girls 
 of her age; thanks to natural abilities, which, 
 though not wonderful, were good ; and thanks, 
 more properly to speak, to Miss Primmerton^s un- 
 deviating regularity. Her pupils were obliged to 
 learn, grumble as they would, — sick or well, learn 
 they must : and as successive young ladies left her 
 house, finished, — to use the approved term, — she 
 had the satisfaction of knowing that they would 
 ma,ke their debut in the fashionable world, with at 
 least a smattering of most things, and above all, 
 with unexceptionable manners, morals, and an up- 
 right deportment. 
 
 Anna was to spend her summer holidays at home, 
 and her winter ones at her uncle's. In spite of 
 his affirmed dislike to the society of children. 
 Uncle Timothy really liked to have her with him, 
 and by degrees fell into the common failing of 
 spoihng her. She did much as she liked both 
 with him and Mrs. Hicks. Captain Burford came 
 once to London on very particular business, and 
 Uncle Timothy kindly invited them to Duke- 
 street. Anna was allowed to spend a whole Sun-
 
 •94 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 day with him^ which was, perhaps, more kind than 
 wise. Uncle Timothy fairly bolted at the part- 
 ing scene, and all Louisa Colville's kindness and 
 Miss Primmerton^s severity were necessary to keep 
 poor Anna from perpetual floods of tears the next 
 day. Captain Burford carried back wonderful re- 
 ports of her accomplishments, and of Uncle Timo- 
 thy^s goodness. 
 
 She generally saw Mrs. Eveleigh and the baby, 
 who had been christened Sophia, for a short time 
 during her monthly holiday. She liked Mrs. Eve- 
 leigh, and quite doted on the baby ; and her great- 
 est treat was to be driven by Uncle Timothy to 
 Peckham, and to spend the half-hour allotted, in 
 talking to the one and caressing the other. Mrs. 
 Eveleigh had partly recovered her spirits, and the 
 baby throve amazingly. 
 
 The Midsummer holidays came at last, and she 
 was once more vrith her darling Jessie, Pynsent, 
 Charley, Aunt Betsey, and Captain Burford. Oh, 
 how they flew by, those holidays ! She found little 
 alteration at home. Pynsent and Jessie were as 
 steady as ever, and had put the first ten pounds 
 into the bank, towards the paying ofi* of the two 
 thousand pounds mortgage. Jessie had had a beau- 
 tiful letter from Nelson, and Captain Burford more 
 than one. Peter, her twin brother, was on the seas,
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 95 
 
 a midshipman. Aunt Betsey was in very low spi- 
 rits, and read the paper, when she could get one, 
 more than usual — principally the Continental gos- 
 sip and the marriages ; but she only met with Mr. 
 Michelson^s name once, and that was in connec- 
 tion with some famous picture at Rome. Michel- 
 son Hall was shut up, and Master Chatham was 
 said to be spending his holidays with an aunt in 
 Wales. Jessicas patience was sorely tried by Aunt 
 Betsey^ s irritability, but her good temper always 
 triumphed. 
 
 Several years passed, the events of which, al- 
 though commonplace enough, were important to 
 the various actors in our little drama. Pynsent 
 finished his apprenticeship to the doctor, and 
 many were the consultations between him, Jessie, 
 Uncle James, and Captain Burford, upon the best 
 means of raising money, to enable him to study 
 in London, and pass the College. Captain Bur- 
 ford proposed writing to Mr. Barnard for advice; 
 but Pynsent at once negatived this, and said that 
 it would look like begging for assistance, which 
 they ought not to do, as their uncle was at such an 
 expense for Anna. He also said that he would ra- 
 ther go to London unknown to his uncle, and try 
 to get on by himself. It might be foohsh, but he 
 should like to try at least to become known to a
 
 96 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 relation he esteemed, by his own merit, rather than 
 through the mere ties of blood. Captain Burford, 
 not being a man of the world, and having a great 
 notion of young people's roughing it, readily as- 
 sented to this scheme, as did Mr. Barnard the 
 elder, who helped to raise the necessary funds. It 
 was thought better to keep Anna in the dark re- 
 specting Pynsent's movements, for a time at least, 
 as they all knew she would never be able to conceal 
 his being in London from her uncle. So Pynsent 
 went to London with introductions from the gen- 
 tleman with whom he had served his apprenticeship, 
 and such directions as were necessary from the same 
 quarter. He took a small cheap lodging in the 
 neighbourhood of Guy's Hospital, and was resolved 
 to eschew the gaieties of London as he would 
 the plague, and to devote himself to all manner 
 of hideous skeletons and terrific dissections. 
 
 Meanwhile Jessie laboured cheerfully for all. 
 The number of shirts that she cut out, made, or as- 
 sisted to make, annually was astonishing ; and the 
 quantity of work that she got through every day, 
 more surprising still. How she kept house, super- 
 intended the making of butter and cheese, directed 
 the farm business, with the assistance of her Uncle 
 James, who had a farm not very far off, and bore 
 with Aunt Betsey's humours, was more praise-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 97 
 
 worthy than all the accomplishments under the sun. 
 Not that I wish to disparage accomplishments ; 
 but simply to show that young people may be good, 
 amiable, estimable, and lady-like without them, 
 and ought not to be looked down upon by the 
 short-sighted of their sex, who can see no beauties 
 in any one, but through a very peculiar and fashion- 
 ably shaped eye-glass. Jessie wrote a beautiful 
 hand ; was a first-rate accountant ; did plain work 
 to perfection ; knew how to embroider, but never 
 had time for it; could make puddings and pies, 
 and preserves and jellies, and syllabubs and jun- 
 kets ; understood all about butter making, bread 
 making, cheese making, and cider making ; was a 
 capital florist, and knew a good deal practically, 
 and by books, concerning the culture of bees; 
 could rear and feed turkeys, geese, ducks, chickens, 
 and pigeons, and had a very superior way of bring- 
 ing up young calves. Moreover, she could dance 
 country dances and reels well and gracefully, and 
 could make one, if absolutely wanted, in a quadrille ; 
 she could sing ballads to perfection without any 
 accompaniment ; and as to poetry, I verily believe 
 she could recite almost every piece she had ever 
 read. Her father had collected some very good 
 books of his day, and with these she was well ac- 
 quainted. The ' Spectator' and ^ Rambler' were her 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 especial favourites, and probably it was from reading 
 these excellent works that she had acquired the 
 power of expressing herself with clearness and even 
 elegance when she wrote. Percy's Reliques and 
 the Elegant Extracts had a peculiar charm for her ; 
 and perhaps it was to the old ballads, and her tmm 
 for poetry, that she was indebted for the vein of 
 romance that ran almost unsuspected through the 
 fine common sense for which she was remarkable. 
 As Sunday was her only leisure day, she read more 
 books of a religious nature than of any other ; and 
 those books, thanks to her father's pure taste, were 
 of the best description. Jeremy Taylor was the 
 writer she loved best, next to the inspired authors 
 of the Bible. She lost herself in his stupendous 
 mind, and found matter for delightful reflection 
 during the week in the sublime poetry in which he 
 clothed his thoughts. Explanations of the Pro- 
 phecies, and all works that threw a light on the 
 obscure passages of Sacred Writ, were particidarly 
 attractive to her ; and it was a pleasant thing, of a 
 Sunday evening, to see her seated at a small table 
 near the parlour window, with her mother's large 
 Bible open before her, containing notes and mar- 
 ginal references : on her right hand some old di- 
 vine, to whom she had been referring, and on 
 her left the ponderous folio of Jeremy Taylor's
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 99 
 
 sermons. Aunt Betsey, with her Prayer-book 
 open near her, might be dozing in the armchair. 
 Charley, with his elbows on the table, and his head 
 resting on his hands, might be gazing entranced on 
 one of the pictures in the large family Bible, which, 
 being illustrated from paintings of the old Masters, 
 had been his Sunday evening companion almost 
 from infancy ; and the tabby cat might be purring 
 on the cusliioned window- seat. 
 
 Such was the family picture on the evening 
 of the Sunday on which Charley had completed 
 his fourteenth, and entered on his fifteenth year. 
 Captain Burford had presented him with a beauti- 
 ful paint-box, which was conspicuously placed on a 
 side table ; and his Uncle James had given him ,the 
 Farmer's Calendar, the plates of which he admired 
 more than the chapters. 
 
 "Jessie, can you talk to me a little?" said the 
 boy. 
 
 Jessie was deep in one of the prophecies of 
 Isaiah, but she said "Yes, dear,'' cheerfully, and 
 looked up from her book. 
 
 " Do you know there is an artist in the town, 
 who takes likenesses and gives lessons in drawing?" 
 said Charley. 
 
 " Really ! " exclaimed Jessie ; " how I wish you 
 could have some lessons ! " 
 
 f2
 
 100 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 She had said at once what Charley had been 
 longing to say for days. 
 
 '^ Have you seen him, Charley ? and how does 
 he paint ? and where does he live ? " 
 
 '' He is staying at the Inn. I saw some of his 
 likenesses in the window yesterday, and one that 
 he had taken of the innkeeper was very like. Oh ! 
 there is Captain Burford !^^ 
 
 The Captain^s head was suddenly poked in at 
 the window, and Jessie and Charley both flew to 
 open the door. As Aunt Betsey did not awake, 
 Jessie proposed going into the arbour; but Captain 
 Burford said he had left an acquaintance round 
 the corner, who would not come to the house until 
 he.Jiad obtained permission from its inmates. 
 
 " Any friend of yours, you know. Captain Bur- 
 ford — ^' said Jessie. 
 
 The Captain disappeared, but soon returned, 
 accompanied by a stranger. This was the identical 
 artist. 
 
 " Jessie, this is Mr. Snagrell, a first-rate artist,^^ 
 said Captain Burford. "Mr. Snagrell, this is 
 Miss Burton and the little boy I was talking to 
 you about, who is such a clever drawer.^^ 
 
 The young man bowed, and said — 
 
 "You mistake, Sair, my name is Sangarelli. I 
 am one Italian.'^
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 101 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mr. SnagreUi/^ said the 
 Captain. '' Cliarley, run and fetcli your drawing 
 book; I want to show Mr. Snagrell your draw- 
 ings.'^ 
 
 Charley looked modest : the Italian begged him 
 to comply with the Capitano's request, and Charley 
 obeyed. He soon returned with the best of his 
 drawings, which were placed upon the rustic table 
 of the arbour. 
 
 The first that Signor Sangarelli took up was a 
 sketch of cattle, evidently from nature, as it was 
 rough in outline, hastily done, and little shaded. 
 He was surprised, but made no remark. The next 
 was a picture of Fairfield, not so clever ; correct, 
 but laboured in the shading. This was coloured 
 with bad paint, and there was an evident want of 
 knowledge of the combination of colour : still the 
 lights and shadows were carefully studied. The 
 next was Charley's favourite subject, a sketch of 
 Jessie. Could the one that Nelson had taken away 
 with him have been compared with this, a vast 
 improvement would have been visible. The ex- 
 pression was caught, and the few finishing touches 
 were more artistic. Signor Sangarelli looked at 
 it and at Jessie alternately, till Jessie felt her 
 cheeks growing red. 
 
 '^ Vera good," he said at last.
 
 102 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 The various sketches of cattle and rural scenery 
 were decidedly the best, and Signor Sangarelli said 
 that they all showed great talent, that ought to be 
 cultivated. Jessie fixed her truthful eyes upon 
 the face of the speaker, and saw that he meant 
 what he said. It may be remarked here that 
 Jessicas eyes were of that rare kind in which you 
 seemed to read the word " Truth" at a glance ; 
 and daring, indeed, must have been that individual 
 who could have uttered a falsehood whilst looking 
 into them. 
 
 How Charley's pale face flushed, and how his 
 heart beat, whilst he listened to the artist's praises 
 of his early efforts ! How well he knew that the 
 remarks he made were for the most part just; and 
 how certain he felt that, with instruction, study, 
 and time, he might rival those great men of whom 
 he had read ! 
 
 '' What are your charges for instruction ?" asked 
 Captain Burford. 
 
 " Five shillings a lesson," was the reply. 
 
 Charley's heart sank ; Jessie looked grave, and 
 Captain Burford shook his head. 
 
 " I am afraid that is more than we can afford," 
 said Jessie in her straightforward way, " although 
 we should like my brother to have a few lessons : 
 but we will think it over tomorrow, and let you
 
 SIMPLlCITy AND FASCINATION. 103 
 
 know. Sunday is not quite tlie day for these 
 matters/^ 
 
 " You are rights my dear/^ said Captain Burford; 
 " I hope Nelson will always be led by you." 
 
 " Oh ! I will say half-a-crown a lesson to a 
 brother artist/' said Signor Sangarelli eagerly. 
 " I shall not be in these parts long, so I will come 
 tomorrow, and twice more in the week." 
 
 Jessie thought this a summary mode of proceed- 
 ing, but did not object, and the matter was settled. 
 
 The following morning saw Charley taking his 
 first lesson. They were all well pleased with the 
 artist, as he understood enough of the rules of art 
 to give Charley many valuable hints. He was also 
 clever enough to discover surprising talent in his 
 pupil, who would very soon have surpassed his 
 master. Charley had sixteen lessons, — all that 
 Jessie could afford to give him. But these were 
 great helps to him in his after self-education ; and 
 the praise he received from Signor Sangarelli en- 
 couraged him to proceed in his endeavours after 
 excellence. But, unfortunately, he had no one 
 but Jessie to whom he could confide his yearning 
 to study painting as a profession ; and she having 
 heard of the difficulties attending such a course, 
 scarcely dared to bid him hope for the accomplish- 
 ment of his desires.
 
 104 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " 'Twas hard from those I loved to go, 
 Who knelt around my bed, 
 Wliose tears bedew'd my burning brow, 
 Whose arms upheld my head. 
 
 " As fading from my dizzy view, 
 
 I sought their forms m vain. 
 
 The bitterness of death I knew, 
 
 And groan'd to live again." — Hebee, 
 
 '^ If there is no means of my being made an artist, 
 Jessie, I will be a farmer," said Charley one day to 
 his sister, during an anxious conversation that they 
 were having on his future prospects. ^*^Next to 
 painting, I love the country ; and I could help 
 you best by learning regularly to farm. Besides, 
 I could still study my art, and might make some- 
 thing of myself by-and-by.'^ 
 
 '^ I am afraid, my dear boy, that you must strive 
 to be either one thing or the other. We have not 
 the means, and do not know how to let you regu- 
 larly study painting; so if farming is your next 
 inclination, you had better take Uncle James's 
 offer, and go to him for a few years. His is such
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 105 
 
 an immense farm, that yon wonld learn more there 
 in a month than you could learn here in a twelve- 
 month/' 
 
 '*^Time will prove, Jessie," said Charley sadly, 
 " but the sooner I begin something the better." 
 
 Jessie looked fondly into her youngest and 
 dearest brother's face. It was not a very hand- 
 some, but it was a most intellectual countenance. 
 Deep-set grey eyes, with eyebrows that threatened 
 to be rather bushy, gleamed from beneath a broad 
 forehead. There was already a slight contraction 
 between the eyebrows, which, to judge from his 
 pale thin cheeks, you would have fancied the fruit 
 of suffering; and the compression of the mouth 
 you would have attributed to the same cause. But 
 Charles, although always a delicate boy, had never 
 endured much bodily pain. The quickness of eye, 
 the working nostril, the thoughtful brows, the 
 mouth with its expression of character, denoted 
 the early struggles of mind ; and the tall thin 
 figure bespoke the youth of nineteen rather than 
 of fifteen years old. 
 
 Captain Burford and Jessie had both come to 
 the conclusion that if he followed the bent of his 
 inclination, he would soon kill himself by study ; 
 and they fancied that to save his life, it should be 
 made as active as possible. They had, moreover, 
 
 r 3
 
 106 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 no means whatever of forwarding his plan of be- 
 coming an artist by profession, and did not even 
 know the Avay to set about it. They considered 
 that he could not do a better thing for his health 
 and strength than accept Mr. James Barnard^s 
 offer of going to him to study practical farming ; 
 and accordingly to his uncle he went. 
 
 This uncle was, like his brother Timothy, a 
 bachelor, and a decided oddity. In his youth he 
 had been very much smitten by Miss Betsey Burton 
 and her beauty, and having been contemptuously 
 refused by that lady, he had eschewed the society 
 of females, given himself up to farming and hunt- 
 ing, his dogs, and a few old friends. He did not 
 often visit Fairfield, because he had never wholly 
 healed the wound Cupid had inflicted, and the 
 sight of Miss Betsey, albeit not so lovely as in 
 former days, always affected him strangely. His 
 favourite amongst the children was Peter, and he 
 would have adopted him, had that very self-willed 
 youth been agreeable. But as he declared that 
 he would be a sailor, and would not go and live at 
 " The Grange,'^ his uncle told him to "go about 
 his business, and Charley should come to him.'' 
 
 Mr. James Barnard was a tall, large, burly, 
 bronzed, and genuinely honest yeoman; a fine 
 specimen of the English farmer. He had a rough
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 107 
 
 exterior^ a rough manner^ a rough hand when he 
 slapped his nephew Charles on the back^ and any- 
 thing but a rough heart. He was possessed of 
 property, both funded and landed. The Grange^ 
 where he resided, was his own; and he rented, 
 besides, Mr. Michelson^s largest farm. There was 
 very little poverty in his immediate neighbour- 
 hood, for he kept all the poor, who chose to work, 
 employed, and paid them regularly. His land was 
 as rich and fertile as any in Somersetshire, that 
 very rich and fertile county ; and his fields sloped 
 smoothly down to the river Parrott, and looked 
 across at the famous little Isle of Athelney, where 
 King Alfred let the immortal cakes burn. His 
 abode was a large, rambling farmhouse, and his 
 style of living was profuse to extravagance. Bread 
 and cheese, and cider, milk, cream, butter and 
 bacon, must have almost learnt to walk into the 
 mouths of the various grades of visitors and beggars 
 that assailed the door ; and as to the huge hall table, 
 it was never unspread. " Cut and come again" was 
 the motto Mr. Barnard had had inscribed on the 
 large wooden platter which usually held the brown 
 bread, and truly his guests did not refuse the invi- 
 tation. All his eatables and drinkables were pro- 
 duced from his own land, and he never grudged 
 them, scarcely indeed knew how much was con-
 
 108 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 sumed in his house. All he knew was, that as 
 soon as one batch of bread,, fine rich cheese, or 
 gammon of bacon was gone, there were plenty 
 more to be had, and he never stopped to inquire 
 who had eaten the one, or was likely to devour the 
 other. Every Christmas a big hamper of good cheer 
 was despatched to his brother Timothy in London, 
 accompanied by a letter inviting him to the Grange, 
 which was duly acknowledged by the celebrated 
 surgeon, and the letter as duly replied to. Brother 
 Timothy always promised to visit his native place 
 as soon as his numerous professional engagements 
 would permit him ; but never since he had set him- 
 self up as a surgeon in London had he fulfilled his 
 promise. Mr. Barnard had a kind of feeling that 
 his brother had become too grand for him ; but he 
 possessed too much honest pride to allow such a 
 feeling to be displayed openly. It had however 
 prevented his taking either Anna or his favourite 
 Peter to London. 
 
 '^ Charley ! Charley 1" hallooed Mr. Barnard one 
 day, two or three months after his nephew had 
 taken up his abode with him. He stood in the 
 middle of a large meadow, and his voice was that 
 of a Stentor. " Charley ! hollo there ! Charley, I 
 say ! Where the deuce is the lad ? My pony too ! 
 1^11 see how 1^11 let him ride again !"
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 109 
 
 Mr. Barnard strode through the meadow, hal- 
 looing at intervals, crossed a gate, and got into a 
 ploughed field ; walked over the furrows as if they 
 were turnpike roads, and reached a smaller field 
 by the river, fringed with alders and willows. He 
 paused to call '' Charley ! '' once more, and was 
 answered by a faint, " Coming, Uncle, coming ! " 
 
 Down by the river^s brink was Charley, astride 
 the pony, with a large book in his hand, that his 
 uncle perceived was the ^ Farmer^ s Calendar,' and 
 gloried therein. He went on however, and saw 
 that his favourite pony was almost knee-deep in 
 mud and water, and that he was quietly cropping 
 the rich grass by the river. Charley's feet just 
 touched the water, and he did not appear to have 
 the least intention of moving away. Before him 
 the cattle were standing in the calm river, and by 
 his side the willows were arching and forming them- 
 selves into all sorts of picturesque shapes, reflected 
 in the water. The setting sun was casting his fare- 
 well rays of gold over the scene, and some large 
 water-lilies were expanding their white leaves be- 
 neath his beams. The birds were twittering sleepy 
 good-nights to each other, and the cows looked too 
 lazy to move away from the shallow part of the 
 stream into which they had walked. One old bull 
 in particular had fairly fallen asleep, and was lite- 
 rally " standing for his picture."
 
 110 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " What the dickens are you about, Sir ?'' shouted 
 Mr. Barnard, drawing near. 
 
 " Only a minute. Uncle : directly, Uncle. Do 
 not disturl) the bull ! " 
 
 Mr. Barnard now stood by his nephew's side, 
 and saw, to his great disgust, the fly-leaf of the 
 handsome book he had given him, covered with 
 pencil-marks. He was about to protest against 
 such sacrilege, when he caught sight of the sketch 
 Charles was making. There was his famous bull, 
 as like as mere pencilling could make him. The 
 large head and sleepy face were sketched to perfec- 
 tion, and the rest of him, though carelessly done^ 
 was unmistakably " he himself he." A rough out- 
 line of some of the other cattle, the willows, sloping 
 field, water-lilies, and a few large stones, completed 
 a hasty but clever sketch, which even Mr. Barnard, 
 little as he knew of art, was struck with. 
 
 /^ And that's how you study the ^ Farmer's Ca- 
 lendar,' is it. Sir?" began Mr. Barnard, as soon 
 as the last stroke was put into the bull's head. 
 " Dang my buttons, if ever I give you another 
 farming book ! Jerry up to his knees in water, be- 
 sides, taking cold ! Your feet as wet as they can 
 be ! My supper waiting, and the potatoes getting 
 cold ! I frightened out of my life, and all the 
 people in full hue and cry after you ! 'Twas only
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. Ill 
 
 the other day that I found you making a picture 
 in the middle of the hayfield^ and half the hay- 
 makers looking over your shoulder ! The very 
 handles of the ploughs have got cows and dogs 
 upon ^em^ and you pretending to learn farmering ! 
 I can't put down a bit of a bill, or a letter, or a 
 book, but when I take it up again I must needs 
 see it ornamented either with my own big face, or 
 Polly's, or one of the hounds ! If that's the way 
 you mean to go on, a fig for your farming, say I \" 
 
 " Indeed, Uncle, I could not resist — " began 
 Charles. 
 
 '' It's aU fudge, Sir : just go and drive them 
 cattle out of the water into Little Mallow Mead, 
 and then come home to supper." 
 
 Charles obeyed, and his uncle strode homewards, 
 fussing and fuming to himself. Charles overtook 
 him, and said — 
 
 '^ Indeed, Uncle, I will give up sketching alto- 
 gether ; that will be the only way. I will make a 
 temperance vow." 
 
 " The deuce a bit !" said his uncle. " Besides, I 
 want a pictur of that bull in colours, to hang up in 
 the parlour; and if you'll do me a big one the 
 same as the little sketch you took this evening, 
 I'll give you a holiday." 
 
 " My dear Uncle ! " said Charles, brightening
 
 112 SIMPLICITV AND FASCINATION. 
 
 up, " that I will. He will make a splendid pic- 
 ture/^ 
 
 "I know I ouglit not to let you do it/^ said 
 Mr. Barnard thoughtfully, scratching his head. 
 " You ^11 be neither one thing nor t'other. Haw ! 
 haw ! haw ! A farmer sitting down in the middle 
 of his harvest to make a drawing of his waggon 
 and horses, or stopping in the middle of his ride 
 round his farm to sketch a flock of sheep, or walk- 
 ing into the river to catch, as you painters call it, 
 the sun upon the water ! Haw ! haw ! haw ! Oh, 
 Charley, my boy, that won't do. You must catch 
 something a deal more lively than that." 
 
 ^^Well, Uncle, as soon as ever I have finished 
 the bull, I will give it up, and take to studying 
 farming, and nothing else." 
 
 " There's a hearty ! " said Mr. Barnard, inflict- 
 ing such a slap on his nephew's back as he dis- 
 mounted from his pony at the door of the house as 
 almost prostrated him. " A nice fellow, you, to 
 shove a waggon up-hill ! Haw ! haw ! haw ! " 
 
 Charles worked day and night until he had com- 
 pleted a very large coloured sketch of the river 
 scene, in which the bull was the prominent fea- 
 ture. It was wonderfully clever for an almost 
 self-taught youth ; but then it was coloured from 
 nature ; and an artist, gifted with genius such as
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 113 
 
 Charles possessed, is sure to do pretty well if he 
 trust wholly to her guidance. He stood in the 
 water and out of the water, wherever the bull and 
 cows chanced to be when he wanted them, until 
 he had finished his picture ; and being quite ab- 
 sorbed in his art, forgot the sun, the rain, the 
 dews, and wet feet. The consequence was, that 
 he completed a painting that did not disgrace the 
 splendid gilt frame ordered for it, and caught such 
 a cold that it brought on a fever. 
 
 Poor fellow ! he is now lying on a bed of suffer- 
 ing, and his uncle is watching impatiently by his 
 bedside. The gig has just been despatched for 
 Jessie, and a man and horse for the doctor. 
 Whilst he slumbers uneasily, Mr. Barnard re- 
 proaches himself as the cause of the cold and fever. 
 He gets up and walks about the room ; his heavy 
 footstep awakes Charles. He sits down again in 
 a great passion with himself. 
 
 " Is Jessie come ? ^^ muttered Charles. 
 
 "Not quite," replied his uncle in a whisper; 
 ^' she'll be here directly. There, lie still now. Is 
 the pain so very bad ? Zounds ! why don't that 
 fool of a doctor come ! 'Tis always the case ; they 
 are never to be found when you send for them, 
 though in any sudden accident there's sure to be 
 three or four at hand. I wish Timothy was here.'^
 
 114 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Wheels were heard, and Mr. Barnard hurried 
 downstairs. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Jessie, meeting 
 him in the passage. 
 
 " Charley is terribly iU ; go up to him straight/' 
 said her uncle. " Who the dickens have we here ? 
 Pynsent ! where on earth did you come from ? " 
 
 The latter part of the sentence was addressed to 
 a young man who followed Jessie, and who was 
 Mr. Pynsent Burton, surgeon. 
 
 " I came down last night, Uncle," said Pynsent, 
 returning his uncle's hearty shake of the hand. 
 " I can attend to Charley, and therefore stopped 
 the boy who was going for Mr. Martin ; that is to 
 say, I sent him to the druggist's instead, and we 
 shall soon have the necessary remedies." 
 
 ^^ Odds bobs !" said Mr. Barnard, ^'^and who's 
 to trust to such a young chap as you? 'Twas only 
 the other day I nursed you ; and you talking of 
 doctoring your brother ! But go your ways, and 
 see what's to be done for Charley. If all aint 
 right, I shall send for Doctor Martin, mind you ; 
 so you needn't take offence." Pynsent left the 
 room. ^' I baint a going to have a boy's life sacri- 
 ficed for the pleasure of seeing what such a sprig 
 as that can do — only just out of the e^^, half- 
 fledged, and yet quite cock-a-hoop. Oh the vanity
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 115 
 
 of this young generation ! I know what 1^11 do; 
 and then I shanH offend the lad_, for I saw some 
 of his poor mother's early spirit in him, when I 
 called him a young chap. I know what I will do. 
 I'll write to Timothy as things go on, and get his 
 advice," 
 
 With this resolution, Mr. Barnard opened a 
 bureau that stood in the large hall, took up a sheet 
 of foolscap paper and spread it upon the desk, sat 
 down, and began, "Dear Brother.*' He consi- 
 dered a long time, and finally closed the bureau, 
 and went upstairs to see what Pynsent was about. 
 
 Mr. Barnard went downstairs, and wrote pre- 
 cisely what he thought of Charley and Pynsent on 
 the sheet of foolscap. By the time he had done 
 this the boy arrived. He went upstairs again, 
 and found Pynsent in another room, preparing a 
 draught. By dint of questioning, he found out its 
 principal ingredients, hurried to the bureau, and 
 wrote them down. He continued to pursue this 
 course until the last moment before it was neces- 
 sary to send the letter to the post, when he signed, 
 sealed, directed, and despatched the foolscap, and 
 prepared another sheet. 
 
 In a few days poor Charley's fever assumed a 
 decidedly typhoid form, to use a medical term. 
 All the remedies employed by Pynsent could not
 
 116 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 keep it down. Day and night he and Jessie 
 watched and tended this dear brother, only to see 
 him grow daily, nay hourly, worse and worse. 
 Mr. Barnard was so distressed that he made mat- 
 ters worse by continual fretting and fuming. His 
 only comfort seemed in his bureau, and when 
 Jessie and Pynsent had time to wonder at any- 
 thing, they wondered to see him constantly wri- 
 ting, and to learn that a letter arrived almost daily, 
 hitherto a rare event in his life. His brother re- 
 plied to his first letter by return of post : he said 
 that nothing could be better than the measures re- 
 sorted to by his nephew. As Charley got worse, 
 Mr. Martin came to see him, and to consult with 
 Pynsent ; but there was nothing more to be done 
 than Pynsent had done. 
 
 About the twelfth day Charley's life was de- 
 spaired of: typhus in its worst form had come on, 
 and was accompanied by constant delirium. Jessie 
 and Pynsent were well-nigh spent, and as to Mr. 
 Barnard, although of little use in the sick-room, 
 he could scarcely be prevailed upon to absent him- 
 self from it, or to take any rest. 
 
 As Jessie sat alone one night by Charley's bed, 
 she gave way to an unusual burst of grief. She 
 suddenly thought of her mother's parting words, 
 " Take care of little Charley." And that beloved
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 117 
 
 object of the motlier^s last earthly care, that young- 
 est born, was about, perhaps, to join her in another 
 world, and to leave Jessie for ever ! The only one 
 from whom she had never been separated, even for 
 a day, the patient, gentle brother. Jessie fell on 
 her knees, and poured out her sorrow at the foot- 
 stool of her God. Grief and prayer were no new 
 things to her. Young as she still was, she had 
 seen both her parents die, and had received from 
 them their last commands and last blessings. 
 Was she now to hear the final sigh of that beloved 
 brother? She suppressed the rising sob as she 
 prayed for him, '' Give him back to us, O my 
 God, for his Saviour^s sake ! Yet not my will, but 
 thine be done.^^ These words recalled her natural 
 composure. Whatever the Almighty willed was 
 right. If it was His pleasure to take her brother 
 from this beautiful world to one more lovely, 
 where pain and grief were not, and all was peace 
 and happiness, it would be, doubtless, for the best; 
 he would be removed before much of evil or human 
 suffering had ruffled the serenity of his nature ; 
 and, after a brief space of existence, she might, 
 with God's grace, follow him, and dwell with him 
 for ever. But oh that he might know her before 
 he passed away ! Oh ^that those delirious wander- 
 ings, fanciful and touching. as they were, might
 
 118 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 cease^ and that he might be recalled to think of 
 his Saviour before the last dread houi' ! 
 
 Out of the darkness and silence arose his voice, 
 even whilst she prayed. His mind strayed amongst 
 green fields, woods, waters, hills, and ruins. The 
 scenes and events of an innocent childhood were 
 present to him, and he gathered sweet violets for 
 his mother and Jessie, or strung the rich cowslips 
 into balls for play. Again he was sketching beau- 
 tiful landscapes, or innumerable successions of 
 herds of cattle, that would not stand still for him ; 
 or striving after some grand ideal conception, of 
 which he had formed but a slight fancy in health, 
 but which now rose before him with all the gran- 
 deur of reality. Again he repeated long pieces of 
 poetry, which must have faded from his memory in 
 its natural state, and hymns that Jessie had taught 
 him years ago. But, best of all, he went through 
 our Lord's Sermon on the Mount, which he had 
 learnt on Sunday evenings for Jessie; and then 
 seemed to have the family Bible before him, and to 
 be murmuring of the old pictures and gazing upon 
 them. It was a consolation to Jessie's fond heart 
 to feel that none but peaceful, happy memories 
 thronged through his bewildered mind, and that 
 he did not appear conscious of the burning fever 
 that was consuming him.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 119 
 
 Pynsent came, and entreated his sister to lie 
 down for a few hours. She consented, upon his 
 promising to call her if any change took place. 
 When she left the room, she sent in one of the 
 servants to watch with Pynsent. It was with diffi- 
 culty that this woman could restrain her wailings, 
 but Pynsent insisted upon silence, and she did her 
 best to obey. He was stoical and firm by nature ; 
 but at the root there lay feelings of the deepest 
 kind, and that root was almost laid bare when he 
 listened to his brother. 
 
 On the fifteenth day they all stood around the 
 bed, — Jessie, Pynsent, and Mr. Barnard, with the 
 addition of Captain Burford and Mr. Martin. 
 They were all breathlessly awaiting his death. 
 The face was almost black; the throat refused 
 to swallow the teaspoonful of wine that had kept 
 life hitherto in the body ; the pulse was so rapid 
 that it could no longer be counted ; the delirium 
 had ceased, and a stupor had taken its place ; all 
 that could be done had been done — in vain ; both 
 doctors said he must die; nothing earthly could 
 save him; the crisis was past, he was sinking ra- 
 pidly. 
 
 Jessie laid a cloth soaked in vinegar and water 
 over his temples ; wetted his parched, blackened 
 lips with wine and water : he opened his eyes — he
 
 120 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 looked at her, he knew her — she was convinced 
 he knew her. She nearly fainted. God only knew 
 hoAV ill and exhausted she felt, but with a super- 
 natural effort she recovered herself. " With God 
 all things are possible/' she thought. 
 
 All that long, weary night, and the greater part 
 of the following day, he lingered on the verge of 
 the grave. How exhausted nature sustained herself, 
 it was impossible to say ; but the torch of life still 
 flickered faintly — oh, how faintly ! A small por- 
 tion of liquid seemed to enter the throat ; it nearly 
 choked him, but it passed down. They tried more, 
 almost drop by drop it followed. Oh, the anxious 
 agony of that next hour ! 
 
 And then he slept. " Oh, merciful Father in 
 heaven, look down and bless his slumbers ! ^' prayed 
 his fainting, hoping sister. He slept, — yes, it was 
 sleep, and not stupor ; breathing, and not panting. 
 Jessie, who had been watching for the death-hour, 
 was too excited to watch that sleep. She went out 
 into the night. The moon and one star were look- 
 ing calmly down upon the rambling farm-house, 
 unconscious of the scene of anxious misery within. 
 That star ! it was her mother, she was sure ; her 
 mother watching over her child : he would not 
 die. She wandered into the fields. How calmly 
 the gentle sheep slept beneath the skies ! no trouble
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 121 
 
 for life, no anguished presentiment of death. That 
 star, how brightly it shone ! Jessie knelt down 
 beneath it, upon the dewy grass : in the heart of 
 sleeping nature, animate and inanimate, she knelt 
 and prayed — to the star, to her mother in heaven, 
 to her fathers in heaven, to him who was once 
 with her, and to Him who was always with her. 
 She supplicated for her brother's life. She had 
 lost her resignation; if he died, she must die 
 also. 
 
 She pressed her hands upon her forehead; it 
 was so hot it frightened her. She hurried back 
 to the house — to the room ; all was hushed as the 
 grave. Pynsent watched alone. He put his finger 
 to his lips, and moved towards her : " The pulse 
 has lessened — there is hope,'^ he murmured. She 
 went into the next room ; Captain Burford and 
 Mr. Martin were there. She looked wild, and 
 spoke wildly ; she flung herself into her guardian's 
 arms. 
 
 '' Martin, come here, for God's sake!" exclaimed 
 Captain Burford. ^^Feel her; how burning she 
 is!" 
 
 " She has taken the infection," said Mr. Martin. 
 
 God help them, those two poor men, the guar- 
 dian and the uncle ! It was pitiful to see them 
 weep. Yes, Jessie had caught the fever. It had 
 
 VOL. 1. G
 
 122 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 been for days raging in ter veins^ and now it was 
 at its height. The servants, who loved her to dis- 
 traction, got her into bed. They would not tell 
 Pynsent that night, so Mr. Martin prescribed. 
 
 Mr. Barnard sat down to the bureau. He wrote 
 at the end of the foolscap sheet as follows : — 
 " Half- past one, a.m. Jessie has the fever, — the 
 stay of the family, the hope and comfort of us 
 all : if she dies, they are ruined. For the love 
 you have as a brother, come to us. I have asked 
 you often, when I could give you pleasure, — you 
 have never come ; will you come now that we are 
 miserable ? I feel sure that you would save her. 
 Oh, come at once, for God^s sake ! '^ 
 
 With a trembling hand the large, burly man 
 sealed that letter : he had scarcely power to do it. 
 It was four days before an answer could arrive, 
 and she might be dead before then. 
 
 Jessicas fever was not, however, so alarming as 
 Charley's ; still she was delirious, and her life de- 
 spaired of. When Charley was pronounced out of 
 danger, she had no understanding left to enable 
 her to praise the Lord for His mercies ; she was 
 raving of her mother in heaven. 
 
 At the close of the third day a postchaise drove 
 up to the door. The posters were nearly exhausted. 
 Mr. Barnard rushed from his bureau to the door.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 123 
 
 He would not have known that rather elderly gen- 
 tleman under any other circumstances, but now his 
 heart told him it was his brother. He opened his 
 large arms, and folded him in an embrace that, 
 at any other time, would have disconcerted him. 
 
 '^Brother, this is kind,^^ he said. "Welcome 
 home!" 
 
 " How do you do, James ? God bless you ! " 
 said Mr. Timothy, as soon as he was freed from 
 the embrace. 
 
 " Now for those poor children : let me see 
 them." 
 
 " They don^t know of your coming," said Mr. 
 Barnard. 
 
 " Never mind, there is no time to lose." 
 
 Mr. Barnard led the way upstairs. He called 
 Pynsent out of Jessicas room. 
 
 " Pynsent, this is my brother Timothy, come to 
 see Jessie and Charley," he said. 
 
 Pynsent started, and the colour rushed to his 
 face; — the uncle he had so longed yet half-feared to 
 know, whose reputation as a surgeon was so high. 
 
 Uncle Timothy shook hands with him, and with 
 professional tact and feeling said — 
 
 " I am come to help you, not to supplant you : 
 your treatment of your patients has been admi- 
 rable." 
 
 G 2
 
 124 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Pynsent wondered how he could know that. 
 " Will you take me to them ? If they are con- 
 scious, they had better look on me as a stranger ; 
 if not, it does not matter." 
 
 They went to Charley^ s room. He was asleep ; 
 his face was deadly pale, but had lost some of the 
 fearful black hue that had overspread it. Uncle 
 Timothy felt his pulse. 
 
 '^ AD right here," he said ; '^ nothing but nou- 
 rishment wanted : what do you think ? " 
 
 " We have been pouring wine and porter down 
 his throat, and everything that he can swallow that 
 has strength in it," said Pynsent. 
 " Good ! " said his uncle. 
 
 They proceeded to Jessie. The first words that 
 greeted them were — 
 
 " I have tried to do my duty by them. Mamma. 
 I could not help Charley's dying : it was God^s 
 will. I see you. Mamma ; I am coming to you." 
 And then a sweet but excited voice began to sing 
 a hymn. 
 
 Uncle Timothy shook his head. He sat down 
 by the bedside and looked awhile at Jessie. She 
 tried to sit up in bed, but fell back again. A tear 
 started to his eye. He put his hand upon her 
 pulse, and she looked at him. He had been always 
 reckoned very like his sister, and some slight per-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 125 
 
 ception evidently crossed her disordered brain. She 
 seized his hand and held it fast; then, smiling, 
 again talked to her mother, as if she was quite 
 near her. 
 
 The fever in her cheeks and eyes had given a 
 surpassing brilliancy to her appearance, for she 
 had not reached the worst stage of the disease. 
 Uncle Timothy smoothed her pillow, kissed her 
 cheek, and having beckoned to a servant to take 
 his place, left her. 
 
 Then he and Pynsent consulted together, or 
 rather he consulted with Pynsent on what he had 
 done and meant to pursue. 
 
 ^'Very good,^' said Mr. Barnard approvingly; 
 " and now let me feel your pulse." 
 Pynsent smiled, and gave his hand. 
 "You are not well," said his uncle gravely; 
 " and these are things not to be trifled with. I 
 shall insist on your going instantly to bed. By 
 timely remedies you may be spared this fever; 
 without them, you will surely have it." 
 
 Pynsent felt his own pulse, and knew that his 
 uncle spoke the truth. Mr. Martin arrived, and 
 confirmed it. They told Mr. Barnard that Pyn- 
 sent was knocked up by long watching, and that 
 he must have a quiet night somewhere. Mr. 
 Barnard had caused his own room to be put ready
 
 126 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 for his brother Timothy, and intended sleeping 
 himself on the sofa in the parlour. Uncle Timothy- 
 said that he could sleep anywhere, so Pynsent was 
 ordered to this room, despite his protestations to 
 the contrary.
 
 127 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 
 
 'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. 
 How little do we know that which we are ! 
 
 How less what we may be! The eternal surge 
 Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar 
 
 Om* bubbles : as the old burst, new emerge, 
 Lash'd from the foam of ages ; while the graves 
 Of empires heave but Hke some passing waves." 
 
 Byeon. 
 
 The sickness at the Grange awoke a feeling of 
 commiseration and sympathy throughout the whole 
 neighbourhood. Even persons who knew little or 
 nothing of the young people who were thus stricken 
 were constant in their inquiries. It is unnecessary 
 to state that Captain Burford paid daily visits, and 
 that the illness of Jessie was a source of the deep- 
 est anxiety and distress to him. It was almost 
 impossible to keep him from her room^ or to pre- 
 vail on him to return home at night, although he 
 knew that there was no bed for him at the Grange 
 and that he was only in the way. His grief was 
 heightened by a letter he had received from his
 
 128 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 son, stating that his health had suffered so much 
 from the climate of India, and from the hard ser- 
 vice on which he had been engaged_, that_, unless 
 he grew much and speedilj'' better, he sliould re- 
 turn home in a few months on sick leave. The 
 letter also contained the intelligence of his having 
 obtained his lieutenancy, and having been pro- 
 moted to the Interpret ership of his regiment. He 
 had always been chary of speaking or writing much 
 about himself, but the Indian journals had from 
 time to time reported favourably of him, and his 
 father knew enough of the Oriental languages to 
 be convinced that he must have studied very hard 
 before he could have been linguist enough to be 
 made interpreter. 
 
 Amongst the most anxious and kind of the vari- 
 ous inquirers was Mr. Michelson. It so chanced 
 that there was a general election, and Mr. Michel- 
 son had determined upon standing for the comity. 
 Any kind of excitement was life to him, and he 
 began to tire of the finest pictm'cs and statues, 
 nay even of the handsomest women, and to pine 
 for novelty. An election was the very thing to suit 
 him, and he returned from abroad to see what was 
 to be done. He was conscious of having lived so 
 seldom amongst his neighbours and tenantry as to 
 be little known or cared for by them. With some
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 129 
 
 of the tact belonging to himself pecnliarlyj and 
 much of that common to all electioneerers, he set 
 about achieving popularity. It matters not much to 
 us how he got on generally, but as regards our own 
 particular friends and acquaintances it does matter 
 somewhat. Oh, the grapes, peaches, nectarines, 
 bottles of old wine, best Guiness^s porter, and 
 baskets of flowers that appeared at the Grange, 
 brought from Michelson Hall, was a sight to be 
 seen ! How many of these presents were due to 
 his former admiration of Miss Burton, and how 
 many to the election, is not for me to determine. 
 Farmer Barnard was a Tory of the old school ; 
 Captain Burford a Whig of the old school ; Pyn- 
 sent rather inclined to Whiggism of a newer 
 school, in spite of the red-hot Toryism of all his 
 family, Aunt Betsey inclusive. Mr. Michelson 
 did not care much what he was, provided he was 
 returned as one of the members for Somerset. 
 He called himself a Conservative, a name then be- 
 ginning to be fashionable, as the best means of 
 uniting Whig and Tory interest. Now, a great 
 many grapes and bottles of old wine and delicate 
 attentions were necessary to amalgamate all those 
 family political differences of opinion into votes for 
 a Conservative member, especially when, on ac- 
 count of the fever, he could not canvass in person. 
 
 g3
 
 130 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 He had plenty of time before him, however, as 
 the election was not to take place for some months, 
 and he had a most efficient aid in his very hand- 
 some dashing son, a young cavalry officer of 
 charming manners. 
 
 His presents were received at the Grange with 
 every feeling and expression of gratitude ; and 
 most welcome and beneficial they were, to Charley 
 especially, who was out of danger, but still pros- 
 trated from extreme weakness. Charley might, 
 perhaps, have gained more strength had his mind 
 been at rest ; but he had managed to find out, in 
 spite of all kinds of subterfuges, that Jessie had 
 the fever, and he was possessed with the notion 
 that she would die, and that he would not be able 
 to see her. But it pleased God that Jessie should 
 not die, neither was she reduced to the same ex- 
 treme weakness that had resulted from the fever 
 in Charley^s case. When the crisis was past, and 
 the delirium had left her, she was able to question 
 those about her concerning her brothers. The 
 first person she appealed to was her unknown 
 uncle. She thought she should be able to bear 
 to hear the worst better from a stranger than from 
 one of her own friends. 
 
 " Your brother Charles is better, my dear," said 
 her uncle, " and there is every prospect of his re- 
 covery."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 131 
 
 Jessie clasped her thin white hands, and raised 
 her eyes to heaven. Her uncle inwardly joined 
 her in her mute thanksgiving. He saw that she 
 had not strength to question him farther, so he 
 said, after a time — 
 
 "Pynsent is not in danger; his iUness pro- 
 ceeded as much from anxiety as fever. He has 
 not lost his senses at all, and though taken down 
 the last, will probably be weU first.^* 
 
 Again Jessie inwardly thanked God, and a flood 
 of tears relieved her. 
 
 " Now, my dear," said her uncle, " drink this, 
 and sleep." 
 
 She swallowed a composing draught, and turned 
 away. Large, full tears rolled from her eyes, until, 
 like an infant, she silently wept herself to sleep. 
 
 " Poor child ! poor child ! " said Uncle Timothy, 
 " you have too much upon your young mind, I am 
 sure." 
 
 Strange that Uncle Timothy should have been 
 the first person to discover this fact. Everybody 
 else believed Jessie equal to anything, and she 
 had been so used to do more than she was equal 
 to, that nobody thought it at all remarkable that 
 from the age of fifteen to three or four and twenty 
 she should have been at work, head, heart, an 
 limbs, from morning to night.
 
 132 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 When Jessie awoke from her long and refresh- 
 ing sleep,, she found the strange doctor again by 
 her bedside. She thought it odd that he should 
 be sitting so quietly at the little round table, read- 
 ing by the dim rushlight, and that everybody else 
 should have left her. She moved as well as her 
 weakness would let her, that she might look at 
 him. What a quiet, serene face he had, and how 
 earnestly he was reading ! She gradually recalled 
 some of the wandering fancies she had been pos- 
 sessed with in the fever, and dimly remembered 
 that she had imagined herself tended by her mo- 
 ther; that mother's face was before her, and in 
 some way it connected itself with that of her silent 
 companion. Possibilities and impossibilities pre- 
 sented themselves to her mind. She made a move- 
 ment to attract the attention of the reader; he 
 was up, and feeling her pulse in a moment. 
 
 ^^ Better," he said, with a smile, and sat down 
 on the bed. 
 
 " Are you my uncle Timothy ? " asked Jessie, 
 looking at him very earnestly. 
 
 " Yes, my dear,'' said he, quite thrown off his 
 guard by so unexpected a question. 
 
 " I thought so," said Jessie, " you are so like 
 Mamma ! " and she burst into tears. 
 
 " My dear, my dear," said Uncle Timothy,
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 133 
 
 you must not give way. What an old fool I 
 
 am 
 
 1'^ 
 
 He bent over her and kissed her cheek. She 
 put her arms gently round his neck, as if he had 
 indeed been her mother; and he inwardly asked 
 Him to whom he was used to appeal in all moments 
 of peculiar hope or fear, to teach him how best to 
 become both father and mother to the orphan girl, 
 whom sickness had already strangely endeared to 
 him. Jessie was much excited. Uncle Timothy 
 again sat down by the little table. 
 
 " Do you love this book, my dear ? It is the 
 Holy Bible. I think you do, from much I have 
 heard you say when you did not know what you 
 were saying." 
 
 Jessie smiled, and murmured " Yes." 
 
 " Then I will read to you." 
 
 Uncle Timothy had been reading the Psalms. 
 He was very fond of that portion of Sacred Writ ; 
 and to many a poor sufferer before Jessie had he 
 begim with the verse " Yea, though I walk through 
 the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no 
 evil, for Thou art with me ; Thy rod and Thy staff 
 comfort me." He read well, and with feeling. 
 Jessie's tears flowed more quietly, and at last they 
 ceased. She clasped her hands and prayed with 
 the Psalmist.
 
 134 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Whilst tliey were thus engaged^ Mr. Barnard 
 entered ; he paused a moment, and then sat down 
 by his brother. He was not a pious man, though 
 a worthy and a kind-hearted one, and had been 
 accustomed to laugh at his sister as a saint ; but 
 the visitation in his household had made him ask, 
 '' Does affliction come from the ground ? " and had 
 checked several improper expressions and bursts of 
 passion to which he was accustomed thoughtlessly 
 to give way. He now listened, almost for the first 
 time in his life, to the Bible, as if he were himself 
 a party concerned ; and the words of the king of 
 Israel entered into his heart, as they have, by 
 God's grace, entered into the hearts of thousands, 
 for good. 
 
 When Uncle Timothy saw that Jessie was calm, 
 and thought he had read enough, he took a little 
 black book out of his pocket, and asked her whe- 
 ther they should unite in thanking God for His late 
 mercies vouchsafed unto them. She assented, and 
 he knelt down. Mr. Barnard did the same. For 
 the first time since their infancy the brothers knelt 
 together, and together offered up the same words 
 of thanksgiving. Short and simple was the prayer 
 read by Mr. Timothy Barnard, thanking God for 
 the recovery of the grievously sick and afflicted, 
 and emphatically did he pronounce the words.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 135 
 
 When he concluded with onr Lord^s Prayer, Jes- 
 sie's weak voice joined, and Mr. Barnard's power- 
 ful bass also fell in. If prayer and thanksgiving 
 be heard in Heaven, assuredly those words have 
 entered there, and " the fellowship of the Holy 
 Spirit" is with the three earthly worshipers, to 
 assist, encourage, and strengthen for ^' the race set 
 before them.'' 
 
 Long before the three invalids were recovered, 
 their good and kind Uncle Timothy was obliged to 
 leave them. He had the satisfaction of seeing 
 them together, however, before he did so. He di- 
 rected the preparations in the largest and most airy 
 of the bed-rooms for their reception, and assisted 
 in transporting them thither. 
 
 Who shall describe the meeting of the brothers 
 and sister ? The tears, the smiles, the inward 
 thanksgivings — they who had not expected to meet 
 again in this world ! 
 
 It was when all gradually became composed, that 
 Uncle Timothy was first introduced to Charley, and 
 that he also named the period of his return to Lon- 
 don. Everybody exclaimed against this proceeding, 
 but Uncle Timothy was firm. Hearing the lamen- 
 tations of the whole party, and knowing them to 
 be sincere, he said, that, " God willing" (he al- 
 ways inserted the D. V. when any distant plan was
 
 136 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 proposed) " he would eat his Christmas dinner with 
 them/^ This proposal caused his brother to rise 
 and cross the room to shake him by the hand, and 
 to declare " that one volunteer was worth a hundred 
 press men," and that he was right glad he had not 
 asked him this year. He added a clause, however, 
 to his self-invitation. 
 
 " I shall bring down Anna," he said, " and, I 
 believe. Miss Colville, who, Anna tells me, has at 
 last obtained permission from her parents to spend 
 her hohdays at Fairfield, previously to her sailing 
 for India. But I must propose another guest." 
 
 " Tiny !" exclaimed Jessie and Charles in a 
 breath. " Oh, how nice ! how I do long to see 
 her ! We know her quite well. Uncle Timothy, 
 from Anna's description, who dotes upon her." 
 
 " Will you ask her to bring some of her draw- 
 ings, and some of her father's, if she can ?" said 
 Charles modestly. 
 
 " That you may take her out sketching, and give 
 her a fever ?" said Uncle Timothy slyly. " She 
 may bring them, provided you do not ask her to 
 draw. The poor child is out of health, and wants 
 a change, and Mrs. Eveleigh wishes to go and see 
 some relation or other who does not care to have 
 Tiny ; and I am sure my niece Jessie will be kind 
 to the poor fatherless child."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 137 
 
 " That she will !" said Captain Burford ; " she 
 is kind to every one/' 
 
 Here it may be weU to say that Mr. Timothy 
 Barnard's little 'protegee Sophia, or Tiny, as she 
 had been called by Anna, on account of her slight 
 small form, had grown up to the age of nine years 
 under Mrs. Eveleigh's care. Mr. Barnard had 
 thought of canvassing for her election into one of 
 the various schools or charitable institutions for 
 female orphans ; but the idea of making her unfor- 
 tunate case public, revolted against him, and he 
 had allowed her to continue with Mrs. Eveleigh. 
 Mrs. Eveleigh was a sufficiently sensible woman to 
 teach her all that she required in her childhood, 
 and, although not a person of high education, had 
 a tolerably well-informed mind. Tiny could read 
 and write, and make certain attempts at ciphering, 
 but her greatest pleasure seemed to be in drawing. 
 Surrounded by paintings from her infancy, she had 
 acquired a love for them, and as Mrs. Eveleigh had 
 picked up some knowledge of it from her husband, 
 she fostered Tiny's talent, and the child was in the 
 habit of drawing, like Charley, for her amusement. 
 When Mr. Barnard saw this, he procured a master 
 for her, and she had now been learning nearly two 
 years, and had made considerable progress. 
 
 Anna, too, was getting on in age and accom-
 
 138 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 plishments. Somehow or other she had made a 
 complete conquest of her uncle. For instance, in 
 one of her petulant moments she had given him 
 to understand that she dreaded the time when she 
 was to leave her novitiate, and become an actual 
 teacher in Miss Primmer ton^s establishment. This 
 was mere pride ; but Uncle Timothy did not look 
 upon it in that light, but fancied she was too young 
 to see things as she ought, and therefore let her go 
 on year after year a mere learner, and at an enor- 
 mous expense. Anna was a great favourite of Miss 
 Primmerton's, who was fond of her for her own 
 sake and her nucleus. Miss Primmerton had taken 
 advantage of Mr. Barnard's kind permission, and 
 had consulted him more than once. She, like many 
 of her over- worked sisterhood, suffered from vio- 
 lent nervous affection of the head ; and it was this, 
 between ourselves, that helped to make her temper 
 irritable ; for it is hard to teach — remember this, ye 
 fractious and impatient and obstinate young peo- 
 ple ! — when the head is throbbing, and every nerve 
 in it driving the teacher mad. Uncle Timothy had 
 been of more service to Miss Primmerton, and had 
 had more patience with her, than any other medical 
 man whom she had before consulted : therefore she 
 had in her turn more patience with his niece. I 
 do not say this was right, but ^^one good turn
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 139 
 
 deserves another_," and Miss Primmerton did not 
 often meet with real consideration from the friends 
 of her pupils. She was generally a governess and 
 nothing more. 
 
 She strongly advised Mr. Timothy Barnard to 
 let Anna be a teacher in her school for one year, 
 at least, before she went into a family as governess. 
 Jessie had given the same advice to Anna during 
 the Midsummer vacation ; so with much distaste, 
 the half-year during which her brothers and sisters 
 were suffering from one kind of fever, she was en- 
 during another much worse in its way. She con- 
 tinued to receive lessons from the various masters, 
 and to give them in turns to the younger pupils — 
 or rather, she prepared them for the masters. She 
 hated this, not so much because she dislil^ed help- 
 ing the children ^s because she was now a teacher. 
 One or two of her former schoolfellows, over whom 
 she had acquired a certain power in her capacity 0£ 
 elder pupil, now looked down upon her in that of 
 teacher to the younger ones ; and her pride was so 
 constantly fighting against her propriety, that she 
 had but little peace of mind. 
 
 Louisa Colville used to laugh and tell her that 
 she wished she was a teacher, if it was only to show 
 up the impertinence of such girls ; but Anna's pride 
 of heart was too deep for that; she could only
 
 140 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 treat her former admirers with scom^ and let them 
 feel, whenever she could, how much more beautiful, 
 accomplished, and admired she was than they 
 were. 
 
 When Uncle Timothy returned from the Grange, 
 and went to see Anna, she heard, for the first time, 
 of the dangerous illness of those she loved. She 
 had wondered, over and over again, that no letters 
 had arrived from home ; but had attributed the si- 
 lence to every cause but the right one. Now, how 
 her warm heart was pained when she thought of 
 what her brothers and her dear sister had suf- 
 fered ! Her first impulse was to entreat to be al- 
 lowed to go home at once ; but Uncle Timothy over- 
 ruled this by assuring her that they were all doing 
 well, and pointing out how near Christmas Avas — 
 it was then October. The prospect of the journey 
 home with her uncle, Louisa Colville, and her dear 
 Tiny, comforted her, and she resolved not to mind 
 the disagreeables of her life as teacher, but to put 
 a brave face upon it, and to do her best. This she 
 really did for three whole days ; but on the fourth 
 she flagged, thanks to the very simple question put 
 by one of her former friends, of, " Are you likely 
 to go as a governess to the Pynsents or the Bur- 
 tons, Miss Bm'ton?" 
 
 Thus was her own little pride of family turned
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 141 
 
 against herself, as indeed all pride generally is, in 
 one way or other. Bnt unfortunately her pride 
 of beauty was continually fostered. In her daily 
 walks, at her nucleus, at the very church door, 
 from the masters, from Mrs. Hicks, from every- 
 body, she constantly heard the words, "What a 
 lovely girl ! ^^ Can we wonder that vanity swelled 
 within her young, untutored heart ?
 
 142 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 " How pleasant, when night falls down 
 And hides the wintry sun, 
 To see them come in to the blazing fire. 
 
 And know that their work is done ; 
 Whilst many bring in, with a laugh and rhyme, 
 Green branches of holly for Christmas time ! 
 Oh, the holly, the bright green holly ! 
 It tells, hke a tongue, that the times are jolly." 
 
 Peoctoe. 
 
 Who shall describe the feelings of expectation and 
 excitement of the family at Fairfield as Christmas 
 approached ? Who shall convey an idea of Jessicas 
 preparations for her various guests, — of Aunt Bet- 
 sey^s devotion to her toilet, — of Pynsent's anxiety 
 about the state of the cellar and the general 
 finances, — of Charley's nervous sensations at the 
 prospect of two strange young ladies, — of Farmer 
 Barnard's palpitations at the certainty of frequent 
 meetings with Miss Burton, the adored of his youth, 
 — and, above all, of Dinah's trepidations at the 
 influx of so much company ? It was a wonder to 
 see Jessie, just recovered from her fever, contriv-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 143 
 
 ing' sleeping apartments^ arranging furniture^ mak- 
 ing mince-meatj cutting up sugar, salting beef, ex- 
 amining hams and tongues_, compounding ricli plum 
 puddings, to be hung up and kept till Christmas 
 came round again, making cakes, and helping to 
 bake them, airing bed-linen, seeing to ashen 
 faggots, looking at pickles, preserves, and elder 
 wine ; gathering evergreens, sending into the wood 
 for misseltoe, making up messes for poor people^s 
 children, — for it was a severe winter, and there 
 were no end of coughs and colds ; stitching at all 
 kinds of flannel petticoats, for Christmas presents 
 for the labourers^ wives and children ; almost cry- 
 ing as she ordered certain fat geese and turkeys 
 that she had reared to be slaughtered ; talking of 
 pigeon pie, but not having the heart to doom the 
 birds that came to perch on her shoulder and eat 
 out of her hand ; scolding Pynsent for doing no- 
 thing to help her ; aiding Aunt Betsey in the ma- 
 nufacture of a certain pomatum and wash for the 
 hands, and sitting with Charley whenever she could 
 find time. 
 
 And why should she sit with Charley ? you ask. 
 Because Charley is still suffering from the effects 
 of the fever. As is often the case in typhus, it has 
 left a sad legacy behind it. Nobody knows ex- 
 actly where the evil has fixed itself, but for the
 
 144 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 present, at least, Charley is almost helpless. He 
 has a weakness somewhere, which has entirely de- 
 prived him of the use of his limbs. Whether it is 
 in the spine or in the joints, the doctors cannot 
 determine, as he suffers no pain; but it prevents 
 his walking and sitting upright : so he is obliged 
 to lie down all day long, on an inclined plane, 
 and to take strengthening medicine, prepared and 
 administered by Pynsent, who is anxiously expect- 
 ing his uncle's arrival, to consult with him on this 
 unfortunate case. Pynsent himself is not very 
 strong yet, though he is pursuing his medical 
 studies con amore. He pokes his nose into the 
 cottage of every poor person who is sick, and has 
 already gained some fame amongst them. He reads 
 dry books and long cases all day long, and writes 
 down the symptoms of the patients he voluntarily 
 attends, every day, with a view to the future achieve- 
 ment of his fortunes, and the benefit of the human 
 race. He intends to wait till Christmas is over, 
 before he regularly establishes himself in his pro- 
 fesssion, and has almost made up his mind, entirely 
 on Jessie's account, to settle in his native place. 
 He would give all he possesses in the world to have 
 a fair start in London, and then to work his way 
 to fame and fortune ; but he feels that Jessie ought 
 not to be left at Fairfield to combat with life alone.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 145 
 
 and so, like a true-hearted brother, he will stay 
 near her and help her. 
 
 • Christmas-day is on a Thursday this year. On 
 the Wednesday of the important and happy week, 
 Charley lies on his back in the '^ parlour/^ not like 
 the famous king, " counting out his money," but 
 with a round table by his side, absolutely stoning 
 raisins; whilst Jessie stands in the "kitchen," not 
 like that king^s equally celebrated queen, ^^ eating 
 bread and honey," but with her arms immersed 
 in a brown pan full of flour, " making," not eating, 
 like little Jack Horner, " a Christmas pie." Jessie 
 is so intent on her work, and is singing so merrily 
 over it, that she does not hear the stealthy foot- 
 steps behind her, nor see the two men that creep 
 through the hall into the kitchen. If two of her 
 senses are thus sealed up, the third, that of feeling, 
 is speedily opened ; for she suddenly becomes con- 
 scious of being caught in the arms of somebody or 
 other, and having a hearty kiss imprinted on her 
 lips. 
 
 " DonH, Pynsent ! " she exclaims : when she per- 
 ceives that it is not Pynsent, but a tall, upright, 
 sunburnt young man, bearing a certain resem- 
 blance to the Nelson Burford that went to India 
 eight or nine years ago. She gives a little scream of 
 joy, blushes very much, and without thinking of the 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 flour, stretches out lier hand, which, equally thought- 
 lessly, her childhood-affianced husband takes, and 
 presses between both his own. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " shouts Captain Burford ; " not 
 a warm welcome, but a floury one ! Isn't he 
 grown, Jessie ? He took me by surprise last night 
 just in the same way, only I hadn't my arms bare 
 and all over flour. I'll be bound. Nelson, you 
 never saw that sort of thing in India." 
 
 Jessie had recovered herself, and stood blushing 
 still, and smiling through certain tears that had 
 appeared, and trembling somewhat, looking down 
 into her pan of flour. Nelson glanced at her, and 
 thought her prettier and more delicate-looking at 
 five-and-twenty than she was at seventeen. He 
 had fally made up his mind to meet her with the 
 utmost friendly discretion — a brotherly shake of 
 the hand, and nothing more : but that sweet, plea- 
 sant voice that he had loved to hear when a child, 
 and the dear old hall and familiar house and fur- 
 niture, had got over him, and, in spite of himself, 
 he had given that warm embrace to his playfellow 
 and friend. 
 
 Be it known at once that Lieutenant Burford, 
 of the Bengal Light Cavalry, has not come home, 
 like many Indian officers, in search of a wife, but 
 in search of health, like most of them. Indeed,
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 147 
 
 he has determined not to marry, and has already- 
 cautioned his father against his old whim of calling 
 Jessie his wife, which accounts for the worthy Cap- 
 tain's silence on that subject at their first meeting, 
 to him a very difficult matter. Moreover, Lieu- 
 tenant Burford intends to treat the warm-hearted 
 friend of his youth as a friend, and nothing more — 
 an intention which he is evidently carrying out by 
 calling her Jessie every second minute, and follow- 
 ing her about just as he used to do. Still I affirm that 
 he is not what is vulgarly called " in love" with 
 her, though he loves her very much : but if Jessie is 
 not " in love" with him, she assuredly never will 
 be with anybody. To prevent all kind of unneces- 
 sary guessing about the matter, I will confess at 
 once that she is sincerely attached to him, and has 
 been all her life — ever since she was born. Some 
 women are capable of such an attachment — such 
 women as Jessie — true, single-hearted creatures, 
 who go about everything with a downright pur- 
 pose, and cannot change. 
 
 Jessie was obliged just to finish that pie, and 
 wash her hands, and make herself neat, so she 
 begged her friends to go and see Charley, and sent 
 to tell Aunt Betsey to go down quick into the 
 parlour. But before she had half finished. Nelson 
 was back again, to tell her that he had seen Peter, 
 
 h2
 
 148 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION, 
 
 — the brother who had only written twice since he 
 left home^ — and had five hundred messages and 
 twenty presents from him to all. That he was the 
 greatest pickle in the ship, and the favourite of all 
 his messmates, but under frequent condemnation 
 of the Captain. That he was every inch a sailor, 
 and loved his profession next to his sisters ; such 
 was his expression. That he " meant to come home 
 some day with lots of prize money, and kick up 
 such a shindy as never was.^^ That he really 
 would write oftener if he could, but that there was 
 so much to do on shipboard, and so much to see 
 on shore, that he never found time. He told 
 Nelson to be sure to say that he never forgot any 
 of them; in proof of which he produced a perfect 
 bazaar of articles that he had collected at different 
 ports, all ticketed, and which he desired Nelson to 
 give Jessie, that she might distribute them as 
 marked amongst his friends. The Captain of his 
 ship, the '' Bonne Esperance,^^ told Nelson that he 
 was the bravest, most careless, hardiest, and most 
 untameable of all his midshipmen : but that he 
 would be a capital sailor, and had already shown 
 great courage and skill on more than one occasion. 
 He was fond of him, but obliged to keep a tight 
 hand on him for fear of insubordination. Nelson 
 ventured to say, that Peter might be done anything
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 149 
 
 with by kindness^ and driven to do anything by 
 severity. 
 
 On Wednesday Pynsent was at the Inn with the 
 car^ to receive the expected guests. They had 
 taken the inside of the coach, to the disappointment 
 of many other passengers ; and as Pynsent shook 
 hands with his uncle, kissed his sister, bowed to 
 Miss Colville, and lifted out Tiny, the bystanders 
 all thought that the family at Fairfield must have 
 had an influx of fortune, to account for such an 
 influx of guests. A cart and horse was in wait- 
 ing to receive the luggage, which they disposed of 
 first ; and when the travellers were seated inside 
 the car, Pynsent took the driving seat, and they 
 were soon on their way to Fairfield, Anna chatter- 
 ing for the whole party, in high spirits. 
 
 Jessie meanwhile was in a great fuss. Aunt 
 Betsey was seated in state in the parlour, dressed 
 for company ; and Charley had begged for a fire in 
 his bed-room, to avoid the first meeting with the 
 strange young ladies. It was a fine, frosty day, 
 and Fairfield looked bright and sunny. Jessie 
 heard the wheels, and rushed out to the gate. 
 Anna was soon in her arms. Oh ! such hugging 
 and kissing ! she quite forgot her politeness. 
 
 " Here is Louisa Colville,'^ said Anna. 
 
 " Oh, I know you quite well !" said Louisa, as
 
 150 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Jessie^ rather shyly, put out her hand ; " I am so 
 glad to come and see you/^ and herewith she gave 
 Jessie a hearty kiss ; this was followed by another 
 from Uncle Timothy. '' And here is Tiny/^ said 
 Anna, bringing forward the shy child, who had 
 crept behind her. 
 
 Jessie saw nothing but long brown curls, for the 
 little face was bent down. She made her way 
 through the curls^ and kissed the sweet pale face : 
 then took the trembling little hand, and proceeded 
 to the house. 
 
 Here again all was presentation and bustle. 
 Aunt Betsey curtseyed with much grace. Uncle 
 Timothy just touched the tips of her fingers; and 
 there was no outpouring of affection anywhere. 
 " Quite right,^' some genteel moralist may say, 
 " we have had enough of kissing for one chapter.'^ 
 
 Boxes are carried upstairs, whilst the travellers 
 warm themselves round the hall-fire, whither they 
 have gone, from the parlour, at Pynsent's sugges- 
 tion, who never was ^ fine^ in his life, and would 
 not see his aunt's nods and winks. He thinks 
 Louisa Colville a very pretty girl, but he does 
 not think or care much about anything but Physic. 
 The London ladies are much pleased and surprised 
 at the large hall and chimney corner, and at the 
 evergreens with which it is fairly covered, to say
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 151 
 
 nothing of the fire on the hearth. Anna runs 
 straight to see Charley, and Jessie directs the 
 placing of the luggage. 
 
 " Oh, Anna, this is charming ! perfect Elysium'/' 
 said Louisa Colville to Anna as she entered their 
 room. " It is all what one reads about in books. 
 India, London, and the country are three different 
 worlds. And Anna, your sister is much prettier 
 than I fancied she would be, and your brother 
 much stiffer. Why did he not shake hands with 
 me, I wonder ? That formal London bow was too 
 smart for the country ; and what a grand lady your 
 aunt is ! She is so like you, Anna. Oh ! it is so 
 charming, and I am so happy already. Hurrah 
 for Fairfield, and good bye to Miss Primmerton 
 and her spectacles ! I never thought I should have 
 got out of poor Pussey's claws." 
 
 " I wish I were out of them," said Anna ; " I'll 
 never go back again as teacher, come what may." 
 
 " Oh, what is that on the window-sill V asked 
 Miss Colville, looking frightened. 
 
 '' Only one of Jessie's pigeons, little Mousey," 
 replied Anna ; '^ don't be afraid, we will let him 
 in ;" and she opened the window, and in flew a 
 pair of beautiful white pigeons. 
 
 The two girls turned their bags inside out for 
 the crumbs remaining from their travelling stores.
 
 152 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 and Miss Colville soon forgot Miss Primmerton, 
 and her unpacking, in her new delight at such un- 
 accustomed guests. 
 
 Whilst they were feeding the pigeons, Jessie and 
 Tiny were differently occupied. When the child^s 
 wrappings were taken off, Jessie had time and 
 opportunity to wonder at her appearance ; she was 
 so small and delicate-looking, that she scarcely 
 seemed earthly. The curls that fell over her pale 
 face, like sunbeams streaking a small white cloud, 
 were the only living things about her : for her large, 
 melancholy, violet eyes could not be said to have 
 life or fire in them ; not, at least, when Jessie thus 
 looked at them ; they seemed made for tears. She 
 was dressed very simply and inexpensively, in a 
 dark brown frock, and plain white trousers ; and 
 she was particular in having a clean pinafore on, 
 before she finished her toilet. Jessie looked at 
 her with pity, and thought how unnatural it was 
 for a child to be so grave and pale ; so calm and 
 spiritual and passionless a face is seldom seen in 
 childhood, and painful when seen : still she was 
 beautiful, rarely beautiful, in her statue-like quie- 
 tude. Her features were small but regular, and 
 her complexion sparklingly fair, — like Parian mar- 
 ble, gleaming but colourless. Nobody could tell 
 why her young face so seldom wore the spring-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 153 
 
 tide smiles of childhood. She seemed happy 
 with Mrs. Eveleigh^ who loved her, and whom she 
 considered her mother. But there was small 
 congeniality between their two natures. Mrs. Eve- 
 leigh was a kind-hearted, talkative woman, with 
 a great taste for fancy needlework and manage- 
 ment : always busy, and anxious that the child 
 should be employed. Tiny was a secret -hearted, 
 silent little girl, about whose quiet thoughts Mrs. 
 Eveleigh knew no more than she did about the 
 current that ran beneath the river by the little 
 farm where she was born; though she loved the 
 calm river, and often dreamt of it, in her small 
 suburban home. Tiny had learnt to do fancy 
 needlework and plain needlework too ; had helped 
 to manufacture articles for sale, as well as her own 
 garments ; and she had always done her best, and 
 been generally docile and obedient ; but the only 
 occupation she seemed to take to with all her heart 
 was drawing. She had no companions, no friends 
 of her own age. To say the truth, Mrs. Eveleigh 
 was rather shunned by the neighbours, she did not 
 know why, and, with the exception of an elderly 
 couple who lived next door, and who, like herself, 
 kept very much to themselves, she had no ac- 
 quaintances. Tiny was so shy whenever her 
 guardian came to see her, that it was impossible to 
 
 H 3
 
 154 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 say whether she liked him or not : and when she 
 paid him a visit, Mrs. Hicks always frightened her 
 so terribly, that she lost all her good manners. 
 She was more at home with Anna ; but she again 
 was so merry, and had so many little odd, half- 
 teasing, half-playful ways, that she seldom ventured 
 to go much beyond a " Yes^^ and " No,^^ or gentle 
 questionings about her brothers, sister, and school- 
 fellows, even with her. 
 
 " Shall I brush your hair for you, dear T^ asked 
 Jessie, as Tiny took a neat little bag containing a 
 hair-brush, etc., from her one box. 
 
 " No, thank you, Ma^am, I always do it myself,^^ 
 replied Tiny, and immediately set about arranging 
 her pretty curls, without the help of a glass. 
 
 " Now, Tiny," said Jessie, " you must tell me 
 of all you wish and want whilst you are here. I 
 am not used to your ways yet, and I am anxious to 
 know all that will please you most, that you may 
 be very happy. '^ 
 
 And is that face so passionless and calm, after 
 all ? Look now ! Large eyes with big tears in 
 them, — thin nostrils, and pale lips quivering with 
 some sudden emotion, but no colour; not the 
 faintest symptoms of a blush. She looks up, for 
 the first time, into Jessicas kind, truthful eyes, — 
 she sees that she means what she says.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 155 
 
 " Thank you/' she breathes rather than speaks. 
 " I should like to see Charley/' 
 
 '' Charley is not very well/' Jessie said^ looking 
 surprised ; " but I will ask him to let me take you 
 to him." 
 
 '' Not if he dislikes it/' said the child. 
 
 Jessie went away and soon returned^ bearing- 
 Charley's somewhat ungracious consent. She took 
 the little girl by the hand, and was surprised to feel 
 that she trembled. Charley was lying on a couch 
 by .the fire in his bed-room, with a large portfolio 
 posted up against his knees before him, on which 
 was a sketch that he had been attempting to finish. 
 A small table by his side was covered with paints, 
 pencils, and all kinds of drawing materials. Charley 
 had felt the same kind of interest in Tiny, that she 
 had felt in him. Each had heard of the other's one 
 engrossing pursuit, and the pursuit was the same 
 in both. This is introduction enough to many 
 people. Yet Tiny's morsel of a hand shook very 
 much when she put it into Charley's, and Jessie 
 almost laughed at their extreme solemnity. 
 
 " Now you must come down to dinner, Tiny," 
 said Jessie, " and by-and-by you shall see some of 
 Charley's drawings." 
 
 Tiny obeyed, once more putting her little hand 
 into Charley's, but not venturing to look at him as 
 she did so.
 
 156 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Is he very ill T^ she asked timidly of Jessie as 
 they went down the passage. 
 
 Jessie's reply was drowned by a shout of laughter 
 from the " best bed-room/' She knocked at the 
 door. " Come in/' was the reply. They entered, 
 and found the two young ladies surrounded by a 
 whole flock of pigeons. Anna had sent for grain 
 to please Miss Colville, and Dinah, the bearer, was 
 standing by, marvelling at the unwonted amuse- 
 ment of the strangers. Tiny at first peeped behind 
 Jessie ; but the sight of the pigeons overcame her 
 timidity, and she was soon in the midst of them. 
 Perhaps she thought that where such gentle shy 
 creatures as those soft white birds could fly, she 
 surely might find a place also. Two or three of 
 them were soon perched on Jessie's head and 
 shoulders, and feeding from her hands ; but Jessie 
 had a kindly feeling for the bed-side carpets, and 
 Dinah's scrubbed floor, and waited a fitting oppor- 
 tunity to dismiss them. 
 
 " Jessie ! Jessie !" whispered a voice near. It was 
 Pynsent, looking cross. "Are you not coming 
 down to dinner ?" 
 
 The door was wide open, and as he crept along 
 the passage, and called Jessie, he could not help 
 looking in. He was amused at the scene, which was 
 too irresistible to be let alone, in spite of the Lon-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 157 
 
 don misses. He clapped his hands, stamped his feet, 
 and uttered a loud " Whoo-oo!'^ as he went past the 
 room unseen by its inmates. Off flew the pigeons 
 in a dreadful fright ; up started Tiny from the floor, 
 on which she was sitting, and Louisa from her 
 kneeling posture, both looking scared. Anna shut 
 the door, and Jessie exclaimed, '^ It is only Pynsent ; 
 he is always getting up some joke or other." 
 
 Louisa Colville looked in the glass. Her hair 
 was decidedly untidy ; but then it was very nice 
 long glossy fair hair, and it did not really matter, 
 though she thought it did. 
 
 Down they all went to dinner at last, and found 
 Mr. Barnard in the hall in earnest conversation 
 with his brother, who had seen Charley, and did 
 not well know what to make of his case. The 
 worthy farmer looked serious for him, but soon 
 brightened up at the sight of so much youth and 
 beauty as the five damsels came trooping in. 
 
 " Well, niece Anna, how d^e do ?" said he, giv- 
 ing the beauty such a kiss and such a shake of the 
 hand as disarranged the curls, and almost put her 
 wrist out of joint. 
 
 Anna was a little bit annoyed, because she did 
 not want Louisa Colville to see Uncle James just 
 yet. Oh, that wicked pride of hers ! But Louisa 
 held out her hand very prettily and shyly when
 
 158 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Jessie introduced her^ and Anna was pleased to see 
 that she rather took to her bluff uncle^ and bore 
 the shake better than she herself had done. In 
 truth Louisa Colville was a girl of strong li Icings 
 and dislikings. She had taken to Anna^ and she 
 took instinctively to every person and thing at 
 Fairfield^ even to Dinah's red cheeks^ staring blue 
 eyes^ and half- open mouth. No, there was one ex- 
 ception — she did not take to Aunt Betsey. 
 
 After dinner, whilst the gentlemen sit round the 
 table, Jessie insists upon the ladies lying down for 
 an hour or so to prepare themselves for the even- 
 ing. This they do, and are soon fast asleep. Tiny 
 is the first to awake. She is a nervous child, and 
 is frightened at finding herself in that large strange 
 room alone. It is quite dark except for the fire- 
 light, which just peeps in through the curtains. 
 Her heart beats quickly. She creeps out of bed, 
 and goes up to the fire. She does not know what 
 o'clock it is, and has an invincible fear of ghosts. 
 She is afraid to ring the bell, so she opens the door 
 and goes into the passage. It is darker still, and 
 she is frightened to death. Charley's room is next 
 door. She thinks she sees a light through a cre- 
 vice; she taps gently, and is told to come in. 
 Uncle Timothy and Charley are there. 
 
 " I am afraid," she said, trembling very much.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 159 
 
 Uncle Timothy goes to her, leads her in, and 
 seats her in an old-fashioned chintz -covered chair 
 by the fire, where she soon falls fast asleep. Uncle 
 Timothy looks kindly at her, strokes her hair, and 
 asks Charley to let her stay with him, then leaves 
 the room. Charley^s pencil is soon employed, and 
 the little sleeping angel (for such she looks) is 
 quickly sketched by the young artist : — the pale 
 face, half veiled by the curls — one hand underneath 
 the cheek, the other hanging by her side — the feet 
 curled up on the chair — and the firelight flickering 
 about her. 
 
 Jessie comes in to take her downstairs, but 
 thinks she looks too tired for romping, so leaves 
 her to her slumbers ; and Charley knows that the 
 excitement of Christmas Eve and Christmas games 
 would be too much for him, so promises Jessie to 
 dine with the party tomorrow, if they will let him 
 stay as he is tonight. The request granted, Jessie 
 quits the silent pair, and Charley begins to put co- 
 lours on his picture, until a second Tiny lives upon 
 the white paper. 
 
 By-and-by Tiny awakes. She looks about her, 
 and seems to ask the usual question on such occa- 
 sions, " Where am I ?" When she sees Charley, 
 she smiles and gets quietly down from her chair, 
 and stands by him as if asking him to speak to her.
 
 160 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Strange that he^ too^ should feel shy ; but he sees 
 only the artist in the child^ and thinks her quite 
 old. At last he shows her the half-finished sketch 
 he has before him. She is delighted with it_, 
 and says " What a pretty child ! how beautifully 
 sketched V She does not know it is her own 
 likeness. 
 
 And now they begin to talk of pictures. Tiny 
 has the advantage here, for she has studied all Mr. 
 Eveleigh^s paintings, and seen those of her drawing 
 master. Moreover she has visited the National 
 Gallery, and been twice with Anna to the Exhibi- 
 tion. She can tell of Landseer's horses, and of 
 Cooper's cows and sheep, as yet only visions in the 
 mind of Charley. But Jessie comes again, and 
 seeing her fresh and sleepless, says she must come 
 downstairs and see the Christmas sports, so she 
 wishes Charley a reluctant " good night.'' In hops 
 Anna, and cries, " Charley, you must come down ; 
 it is wretched to have a Christmas eve without you. 
 You can lie on the settle or in the chimney-corner 
 quite snugly, and we should all be so much happier. 
 There is Jessie running up and down stairs — Pyn- 
 sent fidgeting — Uncles Timothy and James won- 
 dering whether it would hurt you — that tall mili- 
 tary Lieutenant Burford begging to say he will 
 bring you down— Captain Burford fussing — and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 161 
 
 Louisa Colville hoping it is not on her account ; so 
 indeed you must come/^ 
 
 " Very well/^ said Charley, looking like a victim, 
 " you know I should like it, only — " 
 
 Off goes Anna like a shot ; returns, followed by 
 Pynsent and Nelson, who gently take up Charley 
 in their arms, and carry him downstairs. The 
 girls seize the mattress and pillows, which are soon 
 arranged upon the settle, and he is almost as soon 
 placed upon them. The dreaded introduction to 
 Miss Colville over, he feels very glad that he has 
 joined such a happy party, and immediately begins 
 in his mind^s eye to group beautiful pictures from 
 the flitting and varied forms about him. Tiny seats 
 herself at his feet, and seems pleased with every- 
 thing, in her own demure, quiet way : and so they 
 wait awhile, till the veritable sports begin.
 
 162 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " On Christmas Eve the bells were rung ; 
 On Christmas Eve the mass was sung ; 
 The merriest night of all the year, 
 To eat and drink and make good cheer." 
 
 All the family party are assembled in the hall ; 
 all the servants and labourers in the kitchen. 
 The tables are covered with mugs, cups^, and glasses 
 of all sorts and sizes ; cider and ale are there for 
 the men and women, wine for the ladies. Cakes, 
 biscuits, nuts, almonds, and raisins, and all sorts 
 of sweets, are on the hall-table; cold beef and 
 bread and cheese on the kitchen- table. Filling 
 both hearths, and threatening to burn to death the 
 overpowered " dogs,^' arc enormous ashen faggots, 
 bound together by numerous strong dry withs. 
 Already they are beginning to burn, sparkle, and 
 crackle ; and the assembled party watch earnestly 
 the withs, cup and glass in hand. 
 
 " Crack! snap! bounce! '^ goes one of the withs, 
 loosening the imprisoned faggot at one end, and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 163 
 
 giving it up more easily to the flames. " Hip^ hip, 
 hip, hurrah ! '' sounds from the kitchen as the la- 
 bourers press into the doorway of the hall. " Health 
 to Miss Jessie and Master Pynsent, — hip, hip, 
 hurrah !^^ all the drinking- vessels are drained and 
 Ifiled again. 
 
 " Crack ! snap ! bounce ! " goes another, with 
 " Health to Miss Anna and Master Charley, — hip, 
 hip, hip, hurrah ! " sounds through hall and kit- 
 chen, both now filled promiscuously with all the 
 guests, rich and poor : cups and glasses drained 
 again. 
 
 " Crack ! snap ! bounce ! " goes one of the withs 
 of the kitchen faggot. " Health to Master Peter, 
 far away over zea, and may he zoon come back 
 again, — hip, hip, hip, hurrah !" — more cups and 
 glasses drained. 
 
 " I cannot drink more, thank you,^' says Miss 
 Colville, sitting down, because she can no longer 
 stand for laughing. 
 
 "Oh, you must,^^ replies Pynsent, filling her 
 wine-glass with hot elder wine, of which delicious, 
 spicy beverage there is a great quantity. 
 
 " Crack ! snap ! bounce ! '' again in the hall. 
 The middle with is parted, and such a bang it 
 gives that Tiny starts back in affright. " Health 
 to Miss Betsey Burton and Mr. James Barnard, —
 
 164 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! " — the coupling of this pair 
 is an understood joke, and causes a suppressed 
 titter. 
 
 So fast snap the withs that there is now scarcely- 
 time to empty and replenish the glasses between 
 each. " Captain Burford and Master Nelson, — 
 hip, hip, — Mr. Timothy Barnard, — hurrah ! The 
 strange young Lunnun ladies, — hip, hip, — and all 
 the good Burton family, and all belonging to 
 them, here, there, and everywhere, — hip, hip, hip, 
 hurrah !" and three cheers and musical honours, 
 and ^^We wonH go home till morning," led by 
 Captain Burford and Farmer Barnard ; and enough 
 hot cider and elder wine to make the whole party 
 very nearly, if not quite, tipsy. 
 
 All the withs have cracked, snapped, and bounced, 
 and the big pieces of wood that they bound are left 
 to burn out brightly and cheerily on the hearths. 
 Scarcely have the two divisions of hall and kitchen 
 found their level, when they are aroused by sounds 
 of singing out of doors — anything but the "music of 
 the spheres." All rush into the passage, and open 
 the door. The bright winter moon almost walks in 
 — she quite looks in — as do some score of men and 
 women, each bearing pitchers and jugs. And she 
 might look down on many a worse scene : those 
 three pretty girls and that sweet child, all laughing
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION^ 165 
 
 and wondering in fronts with their heads poked 
 out into the frosty air, and their white frocks shi- 
 ning in the moonhght ; behind them all kinds of 
 male forms and faces, looking over their shoulders, 
 and laughing heartily; above them the leafless 
 branches of the creeper, covered with hoar frost, 
 and gleaming, like frosted silver, beneath the moon; 
 in front, some in light and some in shadow, gro- 
 tesque figures clad in all kinds of cloaks and shawls, 
 red, grey, brown, and yellow, looking and sound- 
 ing more like the inhabitants of Pandemonium 
 than, as I hinted before, of Elysium, — men, wo- 
 men, and children, with mouths wide open, carry- 
 ing vessels, also with mouths wide open, and the 
 said mouths apparently asking to be filled. They 
 are singing a Christmas carol with all their hearts; 
 and as all my readers will not, I hope, be Somer- 
 setshire, a verse or two are subjoined for their 
 edification. It must be premised that the word 
 "wassail" is accented on the last syllable, and 
 that the carollers pronounce it very broad, as 
 " wassaail." 
 
 " Wassail and wassail aU round our town ; 
 The cup it is white, and the ale it is brown ; 
 The cup it is made of the good old ashen tree, 
 And so is yovir ale of the best barley. 
 
 'Tis our wassail, — 'tis your wassail, 
 
 And joy be to our joUy wassail.
 
 166 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Good master and good mistress a-sitting by the fire, 
 Whilst we poor souls are out in the mire ; 
 Pray send out your maid with the silver-headed pin, 
 To open the door and let us all come in ; 
 For 'tis our wassail, — 'tis your wassail, 
 And joy be to our jolly wassail," etc., etc. 
 
 Whilst these and other verses of a similar sort 
 were being sung, a little Christmas pantomime was 
 being carried on amongst the young people. Anna 
 was leaning in the most graceful of attitudes against 
 the door-post, and joining heart and soul in the 
 carol. The rays of the moon on her dark glossy 
 hair were like a crown ; and the black eyes shot 
 a volley of incautious, aimless darts out into the 
 night. Louisa Colville had one hand lightly laid 
 on her shoulder, and was holding Tiny with the 
 other. Anna had twined some ivy and holly into 
 her friend's neatly braided golden hair ; and the two 
 girls, the brunette and the blonde, contrasted pret- 
 tily, as they stood carelessly side by side. Lean- 
 ing against the opposite door-post, deep in shadow, 
 was Nelson Burford, and not far from him Pynsent. 
 Most people will anticipate me when I say that 
 they were neither gazing at the moon nor joining in 
 the singing, but looking very earnestly and admir- 
 ingly at their vis-a-vis. Jessie suddenly appeared, 
 followed by Dinah and one of the men, bearing 
 pitchers brimming with cider. Whilst these were
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 167 
 
 being emptied in the various jugs and cans of tlie 
 carollersj Tiny slipt away to Charley^ and Nelson 
 also vanished ; he however soon returned_, carrying 
 a large red table-cloth with a black border, that he 
 had found somewhere. 
 
 " You will surely take cold, young ladies/^ he 
 said; "will you allow me to offer you a very 
 rough shawl V and, without waiting for permis- 
 sion, he placed the unusual garment across the 
 shoulders of the two girls, who, laughing and 
 blushing, drew it around them. 
 
 " Quite ci la Paul and Virginia,^ ^ said Pynsent 
 sarcastically. "Bless me, how polite you have 
 grown V he added aside to Nelson. 
 
 " How very thoughtful of you, Nelson !" said 
 Jessie, who had been out in the court, helping the 
 wassailers to cider, and who reaUy looked cold. 
 
 " He might have given it to you, I think,^^ 
 growled the Captain. 
 
 Here broke in another carol : — 
 
 " There was an old man who had an old cow, 
 And how for to keep it he couldn't tell how ; 
 So he built up a barn, to keep his cow warm ; 
 And a drop of good liquor will do us no harm. 
 
 Harm, boys, harm ; harm, boys, harm ; 
 
 And a drop of good liquor will do us no harm." 
 
 Away went the motley group of Christmas 
 carollers, and were soon succeeded by others, to
 
 168 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 whose various ditties the Fairficldites were content 
 to listen through a closed door, but all of whom 
 had their quota of cider, thanks to Jessie's libe- 
 rality. 
 
 " Please, Miss, here's the zingers," said Dinah 
 confidentially to Jessie. 
 
 " Ask them into the kitchen, and give them 
 some bread and cheese and cider," said Jessie. 
 
 Soon a tumult of sounds issued from the kit- 
 chen : violin, violoncello, flute, fife, and " all kinds 
 of music," accompanied by every gradation of 
 voice. 
 
 "We must come out and hear them," said 
 Jessie, " or they mil not like it." 
 
 " Oh, by all means," said Miss Colville, clap- 
 ping her hands, " I never had such fun in my 
 life ! Have they anything of this sort in India, 
 Mr. Burford?" 
 
 Nelson was talking to Anna, who was giving 
 him a most animated description of Miss Prim- 
 merton. " I beg your pardon," he said, starting 
 round. 
 
 " Never mind," said Louisa, and followed Jessie 
 and the rest into the kitchen. 
 
 They were obliged to put ofi" all Christmas gam- 
 bols and games to another evening, and to have 
 supper as soon as the singing was concluded. Here
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 169 
 
 Nelson's military politeness to the ladies shone 
 far more brightly than Pynsent^s. As it was 
 genuine^ and inherited from his excellent father, 
 nobody but Pynsent remarked npon it. He, who 
 had never found time for the graces himself, was 
 particularly struck by them in his friend, and did 
 not fail to comment upon them in various little 
 asides, both to their possessor and the Captain. 
 
 Nelson was a tall, good-looking young man, 
 with very marked features. He had much softness 
 of eye, and gentleness of manner ; but there was 
 an unmistakable determination about his mouth, 
 that a physiognomist would have called almost 
 rigid. This was particularly remarkable when he 
 was thoughtful; and he had a habit of putting 
 his left elbow into his right hand, and leaning his 
 cheek upon the back of his left hand, bending his 
 head, and gazing upon seeming vacancy, that dis- 
 played this particular feature, and a fine Roman 
 nose, to advantage. It must be confessed that he 
 was stern and obstinate when his temper was much 
 tried, as well as when he had quite made up his 
 mind to anything ; and Jessie knew that mildness 
 and gentleness alone could ever succeed in chang- 
 ing his purpose ; at least, so it had been when he 
 was young, and so she fancied it was still. His 
 mind once made up, powerful influence was neces- 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 sary to turn it. She was very much pleased to 
 find him so polite and attentive to the young 
 ladies; and although he could not^ of necessity, 
 be now always by her side as he used to be when 
 they were younger, still she frequently met his eye, 
 and its soft light, and the smile that relieved the 
 slight sternness of his mouth, always gave her joy. 
 Perhaps they also occasioned rather an uncom- 
 fortable beating of her heart, usually so regular in 
 its pulsations ; but this she thought very foolish, 
 and a thing to struggle agaiiist. 
 
 They aU slept so well that night, that there was 
 a regular scramble to get breakfast over in time to 
 walk a mile and a half to church, on Christmas 
 morning. Besides, it took longer than usual to 
 perform the customary greetings. The "Merry 
 Christmas, and happy New Year when it comes,^' 
 went round so often, that Tiny found herself re- 
 peating it softly at breakfast, she not having had 
 courage to say it aloud. She now mentally ad- 
 dressed each member of the party, and wondered 
 what it all meant. She had never known a 
 " Merry Christmas," although she had spent one 
 or two Christmas days with Anna at Uncle 
 Timothy^s. It is sad to think how many children 
 in that great wilderness of London have never 
 known a " Merry Christmas," or a " Happy New
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 171 
 
 Year." Mrs. Eveleigli had considered it a point 
 of duty to keep Tiny constantly employed ; so tliat 
 on such days as were gentiine holidays to all^ she 
 had been chained to collects, hymns, catechisms, 
 and Bible and Gospel history, with a view, Mrs. 
 Eveleigh thought, to her teaching them herself 
 some day. 
 
 Here, everybody was joyous, and she began to 
 feel joyous too : true, it was a moonshiny, not a 
 sunshiny joyousness — still her little heart was 
 glad. Everybody was kind and loving to the 
 child; everybody stroked her soft, silky hair; 
 everybody tried to make her laugh a good, natural 
 laugh ; and Mr. James Barnard caught her up in 
 his arms, and seated her on his shoulder, which 
 action, though it terrified, gave her a strange sen- 
 sation of pleasure. In all probability she would 
 have been upon his head, had not Aunt Betsey 
 suddenly appeared, and checked the farmer's play- 
 fulness. 
 
 How dificrent was that brisk, cheerful walk 
 through the frost-bitten fields, by the spangled 
 hedgerows, over the crisp ice, along the hard 
 turnpike road, to the prim two and two of Miss 
 Primmerton's "family," when on their way to 
 church; or the quiet precision of Mrs. Eveleigh, 
 when she led Tiny by the hand to their nearest 
 
 I 2
 
 172 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 place of worship ! How the pedestrians amused 
 themselves by wishing everybody they met the 
 compliments of the season ; and how they admired 
 the little stars of laurel-leaves affixed to each pane 
 in the cottage windows, by bright red wafers ! 
 And the little village church ! Louisa Colville and 
 Tiny could not fix their attention on the service, 
 I am ashamed to say, though they tried hard to do 
 so, they were so struck by the garden of evergreens 
 around them. Branches of holly and ivy in the 
 pulpit and reading desk ; more branches in all the 
 windows ; more standing upright in an incredible 
 manner from every pew. Tiny longed to pilfer a 
 bunch, but she had a sort of notion that it would 
 be sacrilege, so she chased away the wicked desire, 
 and was rather troubled in conscience when she 
 heard the commandment, " Thou shalt not steal.^^ 
 Mr. Michelson and his son Chatham sat in a 
 very bower of evergreens; the big, curtained, es- 
 cutcheoned pew, being regularly perforated to ad- 
 mit the stalks. Chatham was continually glancing 
 from between two very pompous holly-bushes at 
 the young damsels in their mufis and furs; and 
 even Mr. Michelson occasionally rested his golden 
 eyeglass on his prayer book, to take a furtive look 
 into the opposite pew. Once or twice Anna caught 
 his eye, and she could with difficulty refrain from
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 173 
 
 a smile of greeting. Tiny^ too, wheii admiring 
 that large spray of holly and the tempting red 
 berries just in front of Mr. Michelson, saw that he 
 was looking at her, and wondered who those fine 
 gentlemen could be in the great pew. 
 
 Even through Uncle Timothy^s pious mind, re- 
 collections of years gone by crept like a dream at 
 the sight of the Christmas flowers ; although his 
 eyes wandered not, and he joined in each response 
 with the soul as well as the lips. He was a fine 
 example to his nephew Pynsent, as he knelt down 
 on the bare boards of the pew, the hassocks being 
 scarce, and preoccupied ; was he not a fine example 
 to many men, both young and old, who enter the 
 house of God, professedly to worship Him, yet will 
 not condescend to bend their knees before Him, 
 but sit irreverently, whilst prayers for their eternal 
 salvation and the good of the whole world are 
 offering up? Would they dare to sit thus were 
 they petitioning an earthly monarch for ever so 
 trifling a grace ? Ah, no ! then why pay less 
 honour to a heavenly ? Truly God is patient and 
 longsuffering, and He is ^^ provoked every day." 
 
 There was one, at least, in that little church, 
 whose whole heart was in the service — doubtless 
 there were many — but we thank God that we 
 know of one. Jessie's mind strayed not that day
 
 174 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 from lier devotions. She felt that she had so many 
 to pray for, so much to be thankful for ; something 
 to appropriate for herself or others, in every prayer 
 and thanksgiving of our sublime Liturgy, that she 
 had no time for wandering thoughts, or space for 
 the tempting spirit of evil to creep in. And we 
 have every reason to believe that the petitions of 
 one so harmless and humble-minded were heard 
 by Him, who, when on earth, set such a lovely 
 example of purity and humility. 
 
 When the service was concluded, our party 
 walked briskly home. Captain Burford and Nel- 
 son were awaiting them, they having been to their 
 own parish church; and roast beef, turkey, and 
 plum-puddings, were craving to be put upon the 
 table. With good appetites and good tempers all 
 sat down to dinner, and nobody envied Mr. 
 Michelson and his son Chatham^ s lonely splen- 
 dour at the Hall. In the kitchen were some dozen 
 aged women, pensioners of Jessie's, who were to 
 partake of the good Christmas cheer. Charles had 
 a snug little round table close to his couch, and 
 Tiny insisted, whispering her insistance to Jessie, 
 upon carrying his plate to and fro, and waiting on 
 him : she thought a great deal more of his dinner 
 than of her own. Jessie and Pynsent had given 
 place to Aunt Betsey and Farmer Barnard, who
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 175 
 
 took_, at their request^ the top and bottom of the 
 table, the sides of which were filled by well- 
 assorted pairs, who had fallen together, nobody 
 knew how. Uncle Timothy and his dear Jessie, 
 Captain Burford and Tiny, on one side ; Pynsent 
 and Louisa ColviUe, Nelson and Anna, on the 
 other. All looked pleased except Captain Burford, 
 and he was unusually silent, in spite of Jessicas 
 efforts at conversation. 
 
 " Let me give you some bread sauce. Miss An- 
 nabella," said Nelson. 
 
 " Why are you so stiff as to call me * Miss ' ? ^^ 
 inquired Anna, laughing. " You do not call Jessie, 
 Miss Jessie.^^ 
 
 " Oh ! because you are so changed, that I can- 
 not look upon you as the Anna of former times j 
 whereas your sister is much as she used to be.^^ 
 
 " And why am I so much more changed than 
 Jessie ? " 
 
 " You were a little saucy child when I saw you 
 last, and now — ^^ 
 
 "And now — ? '^ repeated* Anna anxiously. 
 
 " She is a very saucy young woman," interrupted 
 Pynsent, rather snappishly. 
 
 " Thank you, Pynsent," said Anna ; " you might 
 at least have let Mr. Burford find that out for him- 
 self; " with a stress upon the " Mr."
 
 176 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 '^ Mr. Burford is not likely to find out anything 
 unpleasing in connection with Anna Burton/^ said 
 Nelson, with a glance of admiration at Annans 
 beautiful face. 
 
 "Now, Nelson, I hope you are not grown a 
 flatterer/^ said his father; "I heard what you 
 said.^^ 
 
 " I never flatter willingly," replied Nelson, 
 colouring. 
 
 Jessie had also heard what Nelson said, and 
 seen the glance. Why did she heave an involun- 
 tary sigh, as she perceived that Anna was neither 
 insensible to the compliment, nor the admiration ? 
 
 Christmas-day passed off quickly and happily; 
 and many plans were formed for the ensuing week, 
 of which more in their proper places. The gentle- 
 men, old and young, were very attentive to the 
 ladies; accompanied them in a long walk, and 
 made themselves useful and agreeable, as gallant, 
 weU-mannered gentlemen should do ; only once or 
 twice had Anna to scold Pynsent for some breach 
 of politeness to Louisa Colville, and to receive a 
 " Do you think me a dandy, or an exquisite, 
 Anna ? " from Pynsent in return. 
 
 The following morning they were honoured by 
 an unexpected call from Mr. Michelson ; he came 
 about the election, but as the gentlemen were out.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 177 
 
 he found other matter of conversation for the 
 ladies. They were variously occupied : Aunt Bet- 
 sey was knitting, as usual ; Jessie was giving orders 
 and superintending household matters ; Anna was 
 netting a purse ; Louisa Colville was reading, and 
 Tiny and Charley were busily engaged in drawing 
 at the little table placed by the couch of the latter. 
 A large bright fire was burning in the grate of the 
 parlour where they were sitting, and altogether 
 they looked as cheerful and pretty a party as could 
 be. When the greetings and introductions were 
 over, Mr. Michelson said, addressing Anna — 
 
 " And is it possible that you can be the child 
 that I met some years ago ? You are exactly what 
 your aunt was when I had first the pleasure of her 
 acquaintance ; and I suppose you are now perfectly 
 accomplished : you play, you sing, you dance, vous 
 parlez Franqais,e Italiano. Ah! parla ella Italiano?" 
 ' " St J Signore" replied Anna, with perfect self- 
 possession. 
 
 They then began a short conversation in Italian, 
 in which Mr. Michelson said he would give worlds 
 to show Anna the beauties of Italy, and take her 
 himself to see the magnificent works of art, di quel 
 paese magnifico. This led to his asking what the 
 young artists at the side table were about, still in 
 Italian.
 
 178 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Tiny," said Anna, " bring Mr. Michelson that 
 old castle you have just been drawing, he would 
 like to see it. She has drawn it from imagination 
 entirely, Mr. Michelson." 
 
 Tiny looked frightened, but obeyed. 
 
 " Who is that child ?" asked Mr. Michelson. 
 
 " A ward of my uncle's," replied Anna. 
 
 " What is your name, little girl ?" asked Mr. 
 Michelson, heedless of the drawing she held. 
 
 " Sophia, Sir; but they call me Tiny, because 
 Anna thinks me so little." 
 
 " Sophia what ?" asked Mr. Michelson. 
 
 " Sophia Eveleigh," replied Tiny, looking terri- 
 fied at such repeated questions. 
 
 Mr. Michelson seemed satisfied, and the large 
 vein on his forehead that had started out at the 
 name " Sophia," decreased at that of Eveleigh. 
 He took the drawing, and, with a voice of pure 
 astonishment, asked if it were possible that the child- 
 could have, herself, done the drawing she presented. 
 
 " Yes," she said timidly. 
 
 " And is my old friend Charley as clever as you 
 are ?" he asked. 
 
 '^ Much cleverer, Sir," replied Tiny, peeping 
 into his face. For the first time, her eyes met his; 
 she did not like their expression, but quietly crept 
 back to her chair, near Charles. Mr. Michelson
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 179 
 
 followed her, and whilst professedly looking over 
 Charles's drawing, was gazing fixedly at her. 
 
 " My nephew is said to have a great talent for 
 drawing, Mr. Michelson/' said Aunt Betsey, " and 
 he is very anxious to become an artist ; but I am 
 sure his father would not have liked him to stoop 
 so low.'' 
 
 " Low, Madam ! " said Mr. Michelson, starting 
 as if from a dream. " Superba ! Brava ! Is that 
 your sketch of your sister. Sir ?" he exclaimed en- 
 thusiastically, looking for the first time at Charley's 
 drawing, which was a likeness of Anna. " Self- 
 taught ! You must be better taught. Madam, it 
 would be a disgrace to let this talent be buried 
 here. Your nephew must go abroad : he must 
 study." 
 
 Pharley sighed. 
 
 '' I could give him introductions, — facilitate his 
 studying, — ^make him one of the first of EngHsh 
 artists, or I am no judge of talent." 
 
 Charley lifted himself up on his couch, his face 
 flushed with sudden joy. 
 
 " Oh, could you?" he exclaimed; " would you? 
 will you ?" 
 
 ^' I believe I could and would assist you," said 
 Mr. Michelson, gazing with admiration on the 
 lovely portrait.
 
 180 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 The colour again faded from Charles's cheeks, 
 as he suddenlj^ remembered his seemingly incu- 
 rable weakness. Mr. Michelson perceived it, and 
 remembered that he had heard of his never having 
 recovered from the fever. 
 
 " We will talk of this another day," he said ; 
 " perhaps you will now show me some more 
 sketches." 
 
 Anna rose and produced a rough portfolio, ftdl 
 of drawings, which she displayed to Mr. Michelson, 
 one after another, and his genuine love of the art, 
 andperfectconnoisseurship,enabledhimtoappreciate 
 their different merits. There were some of Tiny^s 
 amongst them, equally clever, but in a different 
 way. Charley^ s were all from nature, — hers either 
 copies or imaginative sketches, as she had had no 
 opportimities of studying from nature. Mr. Mich- 
 elson' s love of the beautiful was called forth in all 
 its bearings. Here stood Anna, her graceful figure 
 bending over the table by his side; there Tiny, 
 whose pale spirituality troubled him; and here 
 again the tokens of great natural genius in paint- 
 ings of no mean beauty. Anywhere else, Louisa 
 Colville would have attracted him, but she sank 
 into mediocrity beside the loveliness of her friend. 
 
 And the gipsy, Anna, knew her power. She 
 perceived that her w omauly charms had completed
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 181 
 
 the conquest that the childish graces had begun, 
 and she was proud to have made a temporary slave 
 of the great Mr. Michelson, though she did not 
 display her satisfaction. 
 
 After some general conversation about the elec- 
 tion and canvassing the ladies, TVir. Michelson took 
 his leave, and Anna was ringing his praises when 
 Uncle Timothy and Pynsent returned from their 
 walk, to undergo a repetition of his sayings and 
 doings.
 
 182 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " On blithesome frolics bent, the youthful swains, 
 Wlule every work of man is laid at rest. 
 Fond o'er the river crowd, in various sport 
 And revelry dissolved." 
 
 " And as they sweep 
 On sounding skates, a thousand different ways, 
 In cu-cUng poise, swift as the winds along, 
 The then gay land is maddened into joy." — Thomson. 
 
 On the following Monday Jessie and Pynsent 
 left home immediately after breakfast, and all 
 Anna's curiosity could not find out where they were 
 going. As they walked quickly on, their voices 
 sounded cheerily through the frosty air, and it was 
 evident they were bound on no unpleasant errand. 
 In about half an hour they reached a smart gen- 
 tleman's house, — a house, at least, built some hun- 
 dred yards off the road, and enclosed by shrubs 
 and iron palings. It was something like one of 
 the many "Citizens' Boxes" near London, and 
 evidenced more of wealth than taste. 
 
 They walked up a short drive, rang the bell, and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 183 
 
 asked if Mr. Skinner was at home. They were 
 shown into a room originally intended for a library, 
 but converted into an office, by means of innumer- 
 able parchments and papers, Here, at a large 
 desk, sat a very little shrivelled-up man ; his skin 
 looked like one of his own parchments, and his 
 eyes like two little mice, eating their way through 
 it. He was not a very old man, but the wrinkles 
 in his forehead, and about the corners of his 
 mouth,' might have been the furrows of a century's 
 ploughing. 
 
 " How do you do, Miss Burton ? how do you do, 
 Mr. Pynsent?" he said, expressing himself very 
 slowly, and apparently with difficulty. " You are 
 the most regular paymasters I have — always to the 
 day : if your father had been like you, debts would 
 never have accumulated as they did.'' 
 
 Pynsent took a leather pocket-book out of his 
 pocket, from whence he drew a large packet of 
 bank-notes. 
 
 '^ There are fifty pounds for the last half-year's 
 interest," he said, placing a portion of the notes 
 before Mr. Skinner. 
 
 " Thank you," said Mr. Skinner, slowly count- 
 ing and examining the notes. Finding them satis- 
 factory, he wrote a receipt, acknowledging the half- 
 year's interest on two thousand pounds at five per
 
 184 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 cent. Pynsent took itj placed it in his pocket- 
 book, and again began counting bank-notes, whilst 
 Mr. Skinner looked on with a pleased astonish- 
 ment in his twinkling eyes, as if some unexpected 
 good luck were happening to him. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Skinner," said Pynsent, '' I have 
 the pleasure of paying you two hundred pounds, 
 in part of the principal, which will reduce our debt 
 to you, for the money you were good enough to 
 lend my father upon mortgage on Fairfield, to 
 eighteen hundred pounds, and the annual interest 
 to ninety." 
 
 Mr. Skinner opened his eyes with wonder, as he 
 took the roll of bank-notes, and said — 
 
 " How is this, Mr. Pynsent? — how is this ? have 
 you had a legacy left, or stepped into a good pro- 
 fession?" 
 
 '' My sister has managed to put by from twenty 
 to thirty pounds a year, for the last eight or nine 
 years, and you will soon find that the two hundred 
 are thus raised without legacies." 
 
 Mr. Skinner looked up from the notes he was 
 counting, at the smiling rosy face of Jessie ; he 
 contemplated her so inquiringly, that she blushed, 
 and almost laughed, as she said — 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Skinner, I assure you Pynsent has 
 saved as well as I. He put by something every
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 185 
 
 year out of his small allowance in London, and if 
 he had been at home when the hundred pounds 
 were ready^ we should have brought part of the 
 money before. 
 
 " You are a wonderful young woman/^ said 
 Mr. Skinner very slowly, giving emphasis to each 
 word. " Here is a stamped receipt_, and now you 
 must come and take something.'^ 
 
 " Oh no ! we have only just breakfasted, thank 
 you," said Jessie, 
 
 " By all means, if you please, Mr. Skinner,'' 
 said Pynsent ; " a frosty walk, and a hasty break- 
 fast before it, have given me a second appetite." 
 
 Jessie looked reproachfully at Pynsent, who 
 smiled knowingly at her in return. Mr. Skinner 
 asked them to follow him, and he led them into 
 a good dining-room, where were the remains of 
 breakfast ; that is, one teacup and saucer, a small 
 teapot, and two empty basins. 
 
 "My children are just gone to school," said 
 Mr. Skinner ; " they would have been very glad to 
 have seen you. Miss Jessie : they often talk of you, 
 and say how kind you are to them." 
 
 Jessie had no idea that she had ever been kind 
 to them. 
 
 Mr. Skinner rang the bell, and ordered refresh- 
 ments. The servant stared. She went away how-
 
 186 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 ever, and returned with some bread and cheese, and 
 a small portion of butter. Mr. Skinner felt for 
 his keys, and left the room; soon after, a little 
 jug of cider appeared. He then carefully unlocked 
 the sideboard, and produced a few dry biscuits and 
 a nearly empty decanter. 
 
 " You will understand. Miss Burton," he said, 
 " why I am obliged to lock away these things my- 
 self : servants are not to be trusted with sweets or 
 wine." 
 
 Pouring out half a glass of wine, he offered it to 
 Jessie, together with the biscuits. She declined 
 both, but on his pressing her very much, took a 
 biscuit, which she found it impossible to eat. Pyn- 
 sent, on the contrary, seemed to be seized with an 
 unusually voracious appetite and an uncommon 
 thirst. Not only did he drink Mr. Skinner^s health 
 in one glass of wine, but he toasted his children in 
 the remaining glass, which emptied the decanter. 
 Then he thought it necessary to try what kind of 
 cider ]\Ir. Skinner's apples made, and found that 
 as they made very fair cider, he would do the jug 
 the honour of emptying it, pledging Mr. Skinner 
 gravely as he did so. The small piece of butter 
 soon disappeared, as he laid it thickly on the bread, 
 and ate it with cheese, telling Mr. Skinner that he 
 liked to be economical, and therefore made one
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 187 
 
 piece of bread do for both butter and cheese. 
 When he had got through as much as he could of 
 these viands, he tried the biscuits, but here he evi- 
 dently came to a stop. He coughed violently, and 
 saying that it was so odd that dry biscuits always 
 caused a tickling in his throat, he drank the re- 
 mainder of the cider. Jessie tried in vain to catch 
 his eye. He would eat and drink, although she 
 knew that he had never drank in his life before 
 at so early an hour. Mr. Skinner glanced in a 
 troubled way at his diminishing edibles, and anon 
 with an inquisitive twinkle of the eye at Jessie. 
 He scanned her well, and appeared to have an 
 agreeable impression of her. 
 
 " And you really saved that two hundred pounds 
 out of your smaU property. Miss? You are an 
 honour to your family." This he repeated more 
 than once, until Jessie began to feel uncomfort- 
 able. She asked about his little girls, and he said 
 that they had gone sadly to waste since the death 
 of his wife. He questioned her closely concerning 
 the expenses of her housekeeping, to which Pyn- 
 sent answered that she was really so very stingy, 
 there was no living with her ; a fact that accounted 
 for his doing such credit to Mr. Skinner's good 
 cheer. Mr. Skinner said, laying great stress on 
 each separate word —
 
 188 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Well donCj Miss Jessie ! well done_, Miss 
 Jessie ! " and proceeded to assure lier that if lier 
 forefathers had done the same,, she and her bro- 
 thers and sister would be rich people now. 
 
 At last Pynsent had wished Mr. Skinner his last 
 " merry Christmas/^ and told him that he would 
 do himself the pleasure of lunching with him again 
 shortly^ and Jessie had touched the tips of his bony 
 fingers^ and they were fairly out of the gates. 
 
 " Now, Jessie, I declare I can walk no further," 
 said Pynsent ; " I think I shall go back, and dine 
 with old Skinner." 
 
 " What is the matter with you, Pynsent ? you 
 certainly are out of your senses." 
 
 " That hard cheese and sour cider will be sure to 
 give me an apoplectic fit : but didnH I do the old 
 sinner? Why, Jessie, if he had but turned his 
 head, I meant to pocket the remainder of the loaf : 
 I really could not eat it. Hurrah ! The first meal 
 that anybody ever got out of him. Nobody ever 
 ate too much before in his house. How Captain 
 Burford will enjoy the joke !" 
 
 " Ah, but," said Jessie, " the children and ser- 
 vants will suffer for it." 
 
 " I never thought of that, upon my word. We^ll 
 give them a dinner this Christmas instead. Only 
 to think of that old fellow's father having been
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 189 
 
 bailiff to our grandfather, and the pair having got 
 rich upon our losses ! " 
 
 Here a discussion ensued upon parsimony and 
 prodigality. 
 
 " What carriage is that coming up our road?^' 
 interrupted Jessie : " there — close by the turnpike ? 
 Isn't Nelson driving ? Yes, it is a fly ; what can 
 be the matter?" 
 
 They hastened to meet the vehicle, and to their 
 astonishment found that it contained Charley and 
 Tiny. 
 
 " Oh, Nelson, how kind and thoughtful of you !" 
 exclaimed Jessie, giving Nelson a glance of genuine 
 pleasure and gratitude. 
 
 " He was determined that I should not finish 
 my sketch today," said Charley, laughing, ^^and 
 took me up in his arms, paint all over, and brought 
 me here, on this mattress, as comfortably as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " And said there was room for me," whispered 
 Tiny, " and I like it so much !" 
 
 " Now, Jessie, you squeeze in opposite the little 
 one," said Nelson, " and Pynsent can walk back, 
 and escort the other ladies, who are just started 
 with Mr. Barnard. My father is waiting, and the 
 moor is full of people." 
 
 Jessie got in, feehng great admiration of Nel-
 
 190 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 son, and delight at his being more friendly in his 
 manners than he had been the previous day. 
 
 They soon arrived at the Captain^ s honse, and 
 were in due time followed by the rest of the party. 
 Charley was first snugly settled in a large chaise 
 longue by the library fire, with a variety of papers 
 and magazines before him, and told to ring if he 
 wanted anything ; and then the Captain's prepara- 
 tions began. He had procured a quantity of list 
 from all the tailors and sempstresses in the town, 
 and he told the young men to twist it round the 
 feet of the ladies. The ladies blushed and laughed, 
 and the gentlemen declared themselves " willing.^' 
 
 '^Now Jessie, my dear, you are the eldest,^' 
 said the Captain ; " come. Nelson." 
 
 Jessie put forth her foot, clad in a large, sensible 
 pair of thick boots ; and a very tidy foot and ankle 
 it was. 
 
 " I think you had better let me do it myself. 
 Nelson,'' she said ; but Nelson insisted, and suc- 
 ceeded in tw^isting the list round the foot, and 
 finally pinning it securely. 
 
 " Now you won't slip on the ice," said the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 Anna and Louisa's feet were simultaneously ex- 
 tended, and similarly operated upon by both the 
 young men. Nelson admired Anna's pretty little
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 191 
 
 foot, but agreed with the Captain in thinking her 
 boots too thin for winter. 
 
 " You would do for Iceland, Miss ColviUe," 
 said the Captain ; " those fur boots and that muff 
 and fur cape would be just the things for a Russian 
 winter, and are almost as good for such a day as 
 this on our moor. Ah, there is the pretty little 
 foot ! Come to me. Tiny, and let me dress it up.^' 
 
 The Captain took Tiny on his knee, and care- 
 fully wrapped her boots in list. 
 
 " Oh, you cold little mouse ! '^ he said ; " you 
 are not half wrapped up. Nelson, tell Jane to bring 
 down that big cape lined with fur.^^ 
 
 By-and-by Tiny was scarcely to be seen, thanks 
 to "the big cape lined with far,^^ which fairly co- 
 vered her up ; and Charley longed to make a pic- 
 ture of her little pale face peeping out from her 
 curls like a white rose-bud from its leaves. Miss 
 Burton made rather a point of trimming her own 
 boots, but Nelson overcame her modest scruples ; 
 and at last they were all ready, and all rough-shod. 
 
 " Here are skates for you, Pynsent,^^ said Nel- 
 son, " and mine are in the arbour, with the chair.^' 
 
 " Good bye," said Tiny to Charles, as if she 
 were never going to see him any more. 
 
 They went thi'ough the back door and down a 
 large garden, that was very pretty in summer, but
 
 193 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 now covered with frost. At the bottom of the gar- 
 den was a summer-house, from whence Nelson pro- 
 cured his skates, and whither he called Pynsent to 
 help him to drag forth a large armchair. Across the 
 legs of this chair he had caused two pieces of sharp- 
 ened iron to be placed, in the shape of skates, and 
 bearing the article triumphantly along, they pro- 
 ceeded. At the bottom of the garden ran a river, or 
 rather stood a river, for it was hard frozen. Over the 
 river was a little rustic bridge, which led our party 
 to as gay and original a scene as England could 
 produce. They entered what was generally an 
 immense moor, stretching as far as the eye could 
 reach on all sides. It had been under water dur- 
 ing late floods, and was now a huge sheet of hard 
 ice, smooth and slippery as glass, save where skates 
 had formed whimsical figures on its surface. Such 
 a frost had not happened within the memory of 
 man, and only once before did any one remember 
 to have seen the moor frozen. 
 
 The full, broad, bare-faced winter sun is pouring 
 a flood of pale dazzling light upon the ice-field, 
 which gleams and sparldes, but does not melt at 
 his glances — very much like a cold-hearted flirt, 
 who receives, without apparent return, the adoration 
 of a lover, and is unmoved by his devotion. Many- 
 coloured dresses of smart ladies and children
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 193 
 
 spring up like flowers upon the plain, and con- 
 trast prettily with the sparkling ice on which tliey 
 slip and slide about — and gentlemen in skates flit 
 here and there, literally cutting through sunbeams 
 above and below, and looking in the far distance 
 like motes at play. Here noisy children are 
 making long slides on the ice and rendering it 
 dangerous to the wall<Lers, whilst their merry voices 
 ring through the frosty air as they plump down in 
 all kinds of unseemly postures in the midst of their 
 play ; there a luckless and unpractised skater may 
 be seen seated in undignified attitude, with his legs 
 in the air ; whilst the red-cheeked damsel, who is 
 laughing at him, and who is not provided, by a 
 gallant sailor, with list for her feet, suddenly finds 
 herself prostrate at his side amongst the shouts of 
 her companions. Yonder a group of old and young 
 are helping one another over a particularly difficult 
 place, and treading gingerly as if each step would 
 be their last, whilst near them some three or four 
 " unprotected females" have fairly come to a stand, 
 afraid to proceed at all. 
 
 When our little party came upon this frozen lake 
 they paused awhile to look about them, and to 
 wonder where such numbers of people of all ranks, 
 ages, and sexes could have come from. It was 
 almost as large a fair as that on the Thames in the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 time of the Great Frost. Uncle Timothy and Tiny 
 were decided cowards, and the rest were obliged to 
 encourage them onwards at every step, when they 
 began to move. As they crept along, literally 
 " feeling their way," they were accosted by friends 
 and acquaintances in endless succession, all too 
 nervous about their safe footing, to pause long for 
 conversation. Nelson and Pynsent had donned 
 their skates, and were gliding on quietly behind 
 the armchair, that slid along as glibly and invi- 
 tingly as possible. 
 
 " Who will have a slide m our sledge ?" asked 
 Nelson, addressing the ladies. 
 
 Each was too timid to begin. 
 
 " Let me set the example," cried Pynsent. "Now 
 Nelson, off with you !" 
 
 Pynsent got into the chair, and off it flew, like a 
 bird, guided by Nelson from behind. It was some- 
 thing new, and everybody stopped to look on. Nel- 
 son was a famous skater, and had been practising 
 the chair privately for a day or two, so he pushed 
 it onwards as easily as possible. 
 
 " I am to have half the profits," exclaimed a 
 young man skating up to Nelson. "It goes 
 famously, Burford. How d^ye do ? Good morning, 
 Mr. Burford. Will you accept the services of 
 another rein-deer?" and he put himself side by
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 195 
 
 side with Nelson at the back of the chair, and they 
 all three went on together, until they returned to 
 the original starting-point. 
 
 " Now then," said Pynsent, getting out, " who's 
 afraid ?'' 
 
 " How dVe do. Captain Burford T' said the 
 stranger, shaking hands with the Captain. '^ Will 
 you introduce me?'' he added, glancing at the 
 ladies. 
 
 '' I don't exactly know," whispered the Captain » 
 " it is dangerous." 
 
 "Where did you collect so much beauty? pray 
 introduce me." 
 
 " Allow me to present Mr. Chatham Michelson, 
 ladies : I beg your pardon, Captain Michelson. 
 Miss Colville — the Miss Burtons — Mr. Barnard, 
 the brother of an old friend of yours, and tenant of 
 your father's." 
 
 Captain Michelson bowed to the ladies, and held 
 out his hand to Uncle Timothy, saying that he was 
 delighted to make his acquaintance. Uncle Timo- 
 thy, in his surprise at being expected to shake 
 hands, forgot the ice and slipped, but Captain Mi- 
 chelson held him up dexterously, in short almost 
 caught him in his arms. This excited the risible 
 faculties of Anna, who burst into a hearty laugh. 
 Hers was such a ringing, merry laugh, that it sounded 
 
 k2
 
 196 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 through the frosty air like a peal of distant bells ; 
 and in spite of her aunt^s displeased countenance 
 it rang on, until Captain Michelson had safely 
 landed Uncle Timothy again, and recovered his 
 own equilibrium, by which time everybody else was 
 laughing. Captain Michelson caught Anna's eye, 
 and was infected by her merriment. Indeed the 
 white teeth, shining beneath the red lips like pearls 
 set in rubies, had laughter in them ; to say nothing 
 of that bright black eye which seemed to shoot 
 sunbeams. 
 
 " I have a great mind to upset you, Anna,'' 
 said Uncle Timothy. 
 
 " Then we should surely fall together, Uncle," 
 replied Anna. 
 
 " Now, Miss Colville, will you take the chair ?" 
 said Pynsent ; " we shall lose our fare if we stand 
 laughing any longer." 
 
 " I am half afraid," replied Louisa, ^' but I will 
 try, if you will promise not to upset me." 
 
 " We promise, we promise," cried the three 
 young men simultaneously ; and in a second the 
 chair and its attendants were careering about, to the 
 great admiration of everybody. 
 
 " What a handsome young man !" said Uncle 
 Timothy, as Chatham Michelson shot over the ice, 
 now, like his companions, impelling the chair, and 
 now skating by its side.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 197 
 
 So thought the ladies, and so must most people 
 of taste have thought. 
 
 Back in due course of time came the chair in 
 triumph. Groups had formed to watch its evolu- 
 tions^ and the Burtons were joined by many other 
 fair damsels, who hoped to have a jpusli in so de- 
 lightful a machine. 
 
 " Now, Aunt Betsey," said Pynsent, " you must 
 try ;" and after some pressing. Aunt Betsey was 
 whirled away. 
 
 Captain Michelson came in contact with some 
 friends, and stopped to speak to them. The chair 
 went on without him, and before he came up with 
 it again, Anna was seated in it, Pynsent pushing, 
 and Nelson at her side. 
 
 " Oh, it is delightful !" said Anna, as she looked 
 from Nelson to Captain Michelson ; " how could 
 you have thought of such a thing ?" 
 
 "All done upon mathematical principles, I as- 
 sure you,'' said Captain Michelson. " Was it not, 
 Burford ?" 
 
 "■ Three male Graces around a female Apollo," 
 said a voice near. It was Mr. Michelson, senior, 
 and Anna thought that Chatham looked vexed 
 when he saw him. 
 
 This was a particularly long ride, or drive, or 
 slide, or whatever you may be pleased to call it.
 
 198 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 and a very merry one^ for Anna did nothing but 
 talk and langh^ and her swains were not backward 
 in joining her. 
 
 "Your turn now, Jessie/' said Nelson, when 
 they suddenly came across their friends, who had 
 changed quarters. 
 
 '^ Take Tiny and this little girl first/' said Jessie ; 
 " they will like it so much, and can go together.'' 
 
 The other little girl was a small Skinner, that 
 Jessie had found shivering and crying with cold, 
 beside a little maid-servant, with an equally small 
 sister by her side. She had taken possession of the 
 pair, and told the servant to run about and slide. 
 The children were borne oflP, clinging closely to one 
 another and the chair ; but they soon lost Chatham, 
 who managed to find himself talking to Louisa 
 Colvdlle, when the much-admired chariot drew up. 
 Jessie had another little Skinner and some half a 
 score of young ladies to propose. 
 
 " I tell you what it is, Jessie," said Nelson, " the 
 chair is my own particular property, and if you will 
 not get into it next, nobody else shall." 
 
 Nelson looked resolved, and Jessie obeyed, stipu- 
 lating however for the small Skinner on her lap, 
 to which Nelson rather gruffly consented. 
 
 " You will want all hands with a double load," 
 said Captain Michelson, starting the chair and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 199 
 
 beginning to talk to Jessie,, as if he were quite at 
 home with her. " I know you very well by report, 
 Miss Burton. Poor Miss Rutherford met you 
 once or twice at different cottages, so she told me, 
 and spoke of you with much regard.^' 
 
 "Where is she now?" asked Jessie. "I liked 
 her very much." 
 
 " Nobody seems to know," said Chatham ; " she 
 went away suddenly, and has never been heard of 
 since, I believe." 
 
 It was now Nelson^s turn to disappear, beckoned 
 for by Mr. Michelson, pere. 
 
 " Will you kindly lend your chair for Miss 
 Erskine? she is dying to try it; she is with Sir 
 Thomas Mansford^s party, — a great heiress, so you 
 had better throw a cast for her. Tell Chatham 
 that I want him." 
 
 Off flew Nelson. 
 
 " Michelson, your father wants you." 
 
 " Then he can't have me just at present," was 
 the dutiful reply. 
 
 " He wishes us to give some Miss Erskine a 
 turn ; or rather Miss Erskine wishes it, or both,^^ 
 said Nelson. 
 
 " Very likely, but let her wait," said Chatham 
 drily, and went on talking to Jessie. 
 
 '^ You donH want me any longer," said Pynsent
 
 200 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 wlien they stopped again ; "I am tired of skat- 
 ing/' and he began to unbuckle his skates. 
 
 '' Nonsense, Pynsent ! ^' said Nelson ; "donH give 
 up.'' 
 
 ''Oh ! I '11 begin again by-and-by ; but I am not 
 going to run after Mr. Michelson's heiresses, nor 
 to skate after them either." 
 
 Here Mr. Michelson appeared. After speaking 
 briefly to those around, he repeated his request. 
 
 ''We will return for those other young ladies 
 you mentioned, directly," said Chatham, address- 
 ing Jessie. "You had better get in, father, and 
 we will pilot you over." 
 
 Away went the chair, with Mr. Michelson 
 therein, a good half-mile across the moor, to 
 where a party of very well-dressed ladies and gen- 
 tlemen were standing. Bows and introductions 
 passed, and Miss Erskine was immediately satis- 
 fied. She was rather a handsome girl, but very 
 stout. The " wheels of the chariot " certainly 
 " tarried " somewhat, but Miss Erskine was so 
 charmed with their motion that there was no get- 
 ting her out of it. 
 
 " One turn more ! one turn more ! " was the 
 young lady's cry, until at last Captain Michelson 
 and Nelson fairly halted before her party. They 
 were then obliged to do the civil to one or two
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 201 
 
 more ladies, but gave them as short rounds as pos- 
 sible, their centre of attraction being evidently in 
 some other part of the plain, whither they went 
 as soon as they could with propriety do so. 
 
 The Captain (we call Captain Burford the Cap- 
 tain, par excellence J because we look upon him as 
 our especial captain), he, meanwhile, Uncle Timo- 
 thy, and Pynsent, had been escorting a number 
 of ladies over the ice, and watching the various 
 amusements that were going on. They had set 
 Tiny and the two little Skinners to slide, and had 
 slidden themselves to show them how. The Cap- 
 tain had had a tumble, and Uncle Timothy had 
 laughed at him, in payment of his laughter on a 
 similar occasion. Anna had found the ice so irre- 
 sistible, that she had been sliding too, reminded of 
 her childish days, when she and her twin brother, 
 Peter, used to slide upon the pond at home. Poor 
 Peter ! where was he now^ ? Louisa Colville had 
 been somewhat scandalized by her friend^s ppr- 
 formance, and had looked round to see if there 
 were any other people near, but found that they 
 were tolerably private. Just as Anna was in the 
 middle of a triumphantly long slide, however, up 
 came the chair, and when she finished, she ran be- 
 hind Uncle Timothy to hide her blushes : not but 
 that she was almost, if not quite, as tall as her uncle. 
 
 k3
 
 202 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Nowj Miss Annabella, we have caught you in 
 the act/^ said Nelson, himself a little scandalized, 
 for he had most strict notions of female propriety, 
 "and you shall be punished by having the very 
 last and worst performance on our stage. Would 
 you like one more whirl before the sun fairly goes 
 away?^^ 
 
 Was anything ever more lovely, either in nature 
 or art, than Annans face, as she came smiling from 
 behind her uncle? Impossible. Her cheeks, made 
 brilliant by exercise, frost, sunshine, and blushes, 
 were brighter and softer than the " red, red rose^^ 
 at daybreak. Her jet black hair, somewhat disar- 
 ranged by her exertions, half covered, foliage-like, 
 those "red, red cheeks/' and the eyes, like two 
 bright, wandering butterflies as they were, glanced 
 down upon them, just touching them with their 
 soft hair. Aurora never stepped into her car at 
 morning, more radiant in beauty and bewitching 
 in grace, than did the half-abashed, half-conscious 
 girl into hers. Alas, that she should know her 
 power ! But how can she help it ? Look at every 
 individual about her, and see the glances of admi- 
 ration in every eye. 
 
 "Come, Tiny," she said, "you must have one 
 turn with me.'' 
 
 They placed the child on her lap, and she encir-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 203 
 
 cled her with one arm, whilst she held the elbow 
 of the chair with the other hand. There was a 
 piece of board for the feet, so she was quite at her 
 ease. 
 
 " That girl will be ruined/^ said Lady Mansford 
 to Mr. Michelson ; " she is really too beautiful to 
 be thrown upon the world and her own resources, 
 as I hear she is to be." 
 
 Mr. Michelson put up his eye-glass, and did not 
 appear to be particularly pleased when he saw his 
 son Chatham in animated conversation with the 
 beauty, and Nelson and he both drinking in all 
 kinds of feelings with her sparkling glances. They 
 were so much occupied in listening to her merry 
 sallies, that they did not perceive the top of an old 
 post, that projected about a foot above the ice, on 
 one side, or Mr. Michelson^ s party on the other. 
 Suddenly one of the slides on which the chair was 
 placed, struck violently against the post, and such 
 was the force of the concussion, that Tiny was 
 thrown out, almost at the feet of Mr. Michelson, 
 and the chair upset, with its burden, on the ice. 
 
 Now all was terror and confusion. The two 
 young men assisted Anna to rise, who, if not seri- 
 ously injured, was hurt by the fall, and unable to 
 move for some minutes. They placed her gently 
 on the chair, and she tried to laugh off the acci-
 
 204 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 dent, but there was an evident longing, on the 
 part of her mouth, either to cry or groan. How- 
 ever, she was soon diverted from her own pain by 
 a buzz of voices in consternation near her. She 
 looked round, and the young men^s glances fol- 
 lowed hers. They had all forgotten Tiny for the 
 moment. Now they saw her in Mr. Michelson^s 
 arms, apparently lifeless, and Lady Mansford and 
 Miss Erskine unfastening her bonnet, and stanch- 
 ing blood that was flowing from her temples. 
 Anna went to her, despite her pain, which was 
 great. 
 
 "Tiny, darling,'^ she exclaimed, "are you dead? 
 Have we killed her ? Oh, Mr. Michelson, for hea- 
 ven's sake tell me !'' 
 
 " I think she is only stunned," said Lady Mans- 
 ford ; "do not be alarmed." t 
 
 As to Mr. Michelson, he was almost as pale as 
 the child he held in his arms. 
 
 " You had better put her at once into the chair," 
 said Nelson, " and take her to our house. Anna, 
 do you think you can carry her ? for you too ought 
 to get back at once." 
 
 "Oh yes!" said Anna, the tears rolling down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 They put Anna into the chair, and Mr. Michel- 
 son laid the child half-reluctantly in her arms.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND I'ASCINATION. 205 
 
 "Will you find Mr. Burton, or Mr. Timothy 
 Barnard, Mr. Michelson/^ said Nelson; "they are 
 both here. Send them to my father^ s at once. 
 Now, Chatham, gently but swiftly .^^ 
 
 They were soon at the bottom of Captain Bur- 
 ford^s garden. The young men were obliged to 
 take off their skates, which occasioned some delay. 
 Nelson had done first, so taking Tiny, still sense- 
 less, in his arms, he ran up the walk to the house. 
 Chatham offered his arm to Anna, and they fol- 
 lowed slowly. She had slightly sprained her ankle, 
 and pain and fright had chased all the colour from 
 her cheeks. Thus they reached the house.
 
 206 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Love at first sight, firstborn, and heir to all. 
 Made this night thus. Henceforward squaU nor storm 
 Could keep me from the Eden where she dwelt." — Tennyson. 
 
 Mr. Michelson wished Lady Mansford and her 
 party a hasty good-morning, promising to see them 
 again at dinner-time, and hurried off in search of 
 the doctors. He felt a sudden and unaccountable 
 interest in the fate of the child. As she lay, like a 
 wounded dove, motionless at his feet, and after- 
 wards in his arms, feelings had entered into his 
 soul that had never found a place there before. 
 Hitherto his love had been passion; his admira- 
 tion self-gratification ; his friendship mere tem- 
 porary sensation : all had been '^ of the earth 
 earthy.^' Even his paternal sentiments had been 
 those of gratified vanity, if his son did well and 
 was admired ; of angry pique, if he did ill and was 
 evil spoken of. Now the first seed of some heavenly 
 flower was invisibly sown in his heart ; he felt it 
 germinating quickly. He looked on the paje.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 207 
 
 stricken child^ and would have risked his being, 
 for the monient_, to recall the poor lamb to con- 
 sciousness. When he had once seen her before, 
 he had admired her tender beauty, but now he 
 loved her appealing innocence and crushed sweet- 
 ness. He went hither and thither, until he found 
 the Burtons ; cursing the slippery ice, the chair, 
 the folly of the young men, the very attractions of 
 Anna, to which he had himself bowed. 
 
 " From the sublime to the ridiculous " we must 
 now descend ; the " step '^ is taken to see the va- 
 rious efforts of Captain Burford, Uncle Timothy, 
 Pynsent, Mr. Michelson, Aunt Betsey, and Miss 
 Colville to hurry across the ice. Jessie, active by 
 nature and habit, has soon outstripped them, and 
 reaches the garden without any great drawbacks ; 
 but they seem to find slips and slides at every step. 
 Poor Uncle Timothy, whose ardour is the greatest, 
 — next, perhaps, to that of Mr. Michelson, — is the 
 slowest to proceed, and must have been twenty 
 times on his nose had not Pynsent been near to 
 help him up ; it was a decidedly painful position 
 for two doctors hastening to an insensible patient. 
 Then the list came off Aunt Betsey^s shoes, and 
 she could not venture to stir a step until it was 
 put on again. Mr. Michelson, out of all patience, 
 went on before, and had made some progress when
 
 208 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 lie thoughtlessly stepped on one of the long slides 
 left by the boys, and fell, or rather sat, down 
 somewhat unmajestically for so portly a person- 
 age. Once down on this most glassy slide, he 
 could not get up again, and was sprawling, with 
 hands and feet slipping onwards, and again cursing 
 all hard frosts, when the rest came up to him. 
 Louisa Colville and Pynsent w^ere trying to smother 
 a laugh, which would force itself in spite of Tiny, 
 when Aunt Betsey, condoling with Mr. Michel- 
 son and forgetful of herself, slipped in her turn, 
 and, catching hold of that gentleman just as he 
 was managing to rise, pulled him down again. 
 Gravity fell with them, and Captain Burford^s 
 loud, hearty laugh was echoed by the three others, 
 to the great disgust of the prostrate pair, who how- 
 ever were compelled to join in it. 
 
 They all reached the house at last, and found 
 Tiny already restored to consciousness, lying on 
 Charley^ s chair, who, to the astonishment of every- 
 body, was sitting by her side. Jessie was bathing 
 her temples, and following up the remedies that 
 Charley had begun before she came. Sudden fear 
 had done for Charles what extreme weakness and 
 nervousness had prevented his having the courage 
 to do for himself — made him move voluntarily 
 from the reclining posture in which he had been 
 so long placed.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 209 
 
 Uncle Timothy and Pynsent said there was no 
 serious injury, but that she must be kept very 
 quiet; and also that Anna must do her best to 
 be still for a day or two, as her ankle was already 
 much swelled. Fortunately for Mr. Michelson, 
 Aunt Betsey was there, and he heard from her, 
 who thought of him when nobody else did, of 
 Tiny's state. He begged her to ask the doctors 
 to allow him to see the child before he left, as he 
 should feel less anxious about her when he knew 
 how she looked. Permission being granted, he 
 went into the library, and his son slipped in after 
 him ; it was quite a hospital. Tiny put her hand 
 into Mr. Michelson^s, and whispered that she was 
 not hurt, and thanked him timidly for his kind- 
 ness. Everybody wondered at Mr. Michelson^s 
 anxious face and his gentle manner to the little 
 girl. Chatham meanwhile was standing by Annans 
 
 sofa, and listening to her hearty laughter over the 
 
 • 
 
 whole affair. Jessie, as usual, was occupied with 
 the patient, and to her Mr. Michelson turned, 
 with a look of great complacency, as if he would 
 express his gratitude for some favour bestowed on 
 himself. Perhaps he never before admired any 
 one for mere goodness, but he did so now. So 
 true it is that there is a deep, intricate spring some- 
 where or other in every heart, be it selfish or
 
 210 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 depraved, that a certain peculiar touch can move : 
 once moved, it is not difficult to open many closed 
 compartments, that would, but for that first deli- 
 cate touch, have been closed for ever. Mr. Michel - 
 son bent over the fair child and kissed her fore- 
 head before he took his departure, and seemed 
 almost to have forgotten his former favourite, 
 Anna, in his sudden fancy for her. He wished 
 her good-morning, however, and hoped that they 
 should meet again on the ice on the morrow, as he 
 beckoned Chatham away. 
 
 When they were gone, Captain Burford decided 
 that it would be impossible for any of the others to 
 go home that night, and told Jessie that she and 
 his housekeeper must improvise beds, since sleep in 
 his house they should. As the house was a large 
 one there was no great difficulty, especially as Pyn- 
 sent and Nelson arranged to repose on two old- 
 fashioned sofas in the drawing-room by the fire. 
 
 During the course of the afternoon, Pynsent 
 communicated to Captain Burford the circum- 
 ' stances of his and Jessie's morning's interview with 
 Mr. Skinner. The Captain was in raptures. 
 
 " I declare,'' he said, " there never was anybody 
 in the world like Jessie; there was only one of 
 her came over in three ships, I am morally certain. 
 What a lucky fellow Nelson will be !"
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 211 
 
 A shade passed over Pynsent^s brow. 
 
 " I say_, Captain," he began_, and paused. 
 
 " And what do you say, Surgeon ?" asked the 
 Captain : " speak out, man." 
 
 " That I think we shall be doing no good, either 
 to Nelson or Jessie, by talking of the old agree- 
 ment between you and my father about their mar- 
 riage." 
 
 " Odds bobs. Sir ! what do you mean ? I shall 
 talk of what I like. Am I, at my age, to be 
 tutored by a pack of youngsters ? That is just a 
 second edition of Nelson^ s gibberish and new- 
 fangled nonsense; and I can assure you I only 
 bore it from him because he was just returned; 
 he had better not try again." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Sir," said Pynsent, " only 
 I felt assured that you would not like to annoy 
 Jessie ; and I think it might annoy her." 
 
 "I'll be hanged. Master Pynsent, if ever I an- 
 noyed her in my life, or ever shall," responded 
 the Captain, dashing out of the room, and slam- 
 ming the door after him. 
 
 The cause of his irascibility was Nelson's very 
 decided devotion to Anna's sprained ankle, to the 
 total estrangement of his attention from Jessie. 
 
 In the evening, when they were all grouped 
 round a large fire, telling riddles and ghost stories
 
 212 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 by the fire-light^ the Captain, who had been hither- 
 to a listener, suddenly exclaimed — 
 
 " Now I will tell you one of the prettiest stories 
 that I have heard for a long time.'^ And he forth- 
 with began to detail, with illustrations and addi- 
 tions of his own, the history of Pynsent and 
 Jessie's two hundred pounds. He used feigned 
 names, and mixed it up with many sea phrases, so 
 as to conceal the actual dramatis per^ncE from all 
 but their individual selves ; but he made the little 
 episode so charming that everybody exclaimed, 
 "^ What a beautiful sketch ! what a delightful, 
 worthy, amiable pair ! Do not you like that now, 
 Jessie T^ Whilst poor Jessie was blushing redder 
 than the fire. 
 
 "I think Jessie could have done that," whis- 
 pered Tiny to Charles, who had now resumed his 
 chaise longue, and had the child, as usual, close to 
 him. 
 
 The Captain overheard. 
 
 " So she could, little 'cute Tiny, and so she did : 
 that was Jessie and Pynsent. What do you think 
 of that, Nelson? I take it you have not heard 
 anything better than that in India. What a wife 
 she will make ! I only wish you were worthy 
 of her; but you are not, and she won't have 
 you !"
 
 SIMPILCITY AND FASCINATION. 213 
 
 " I do not think there is any one in the world 
 worthy of Jessie," said Charles with sudden anima- 
 tion. 
 
 "You are trying hard to spoil her by flattery," 
 said Uncle Timothy, taking the blushing girl's 
 hand playfully ; " we are all liable to be spoilt by 
 that dangerous charm." 
 
 " Not Jessie," said Nelson emphatically ; " she 
 is one of the few who has been, and will be, always 
 the same." 
 
 Jessie looked up involuntarily at the speaker, 
 and a tear swelled in her eyes as she met Nelson's 
 glance : it was beaming with the old affectionate 
 admiration — the one look that seemed to say, 
 " There is nobody in the world like her !" 
 
 ^^1 must run away, I see," she said hurriedly, 
 rising and going towards the door. 
 
 "No, no," said half-a-dozen voices; and "no" 
 acted Nelson, as he ran to the door and stood with 
 his back to it. 
 
 Jessie returned to her seat, and by some strange 
 chance Nelson found himself by her side, and the 
 foot of Anna's sofa was deserted. The Captain 
 looked pleased once more, and the evening went 
 off very merrily, in spite of the accident, which 
 rather gave cause for amusement than lamentation. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Michelson and Chatham were
 
 214 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 having a fashionable unnaturally late dinner at 
 Sir Thomas Mansford^s, and in the coui'se of the 
 evening the following conversation took place be- 
 tween IMr. Michelson and Lady Mansford; that 
 is to say, we will break in upon their secrets where 
 it suits us : not that they are secrets, after all, 
 because Chatham and Miss Erskme occasionally 
 join. 
 
 " I cannot help thinking she would suit Lady 
 Georgiana," said Lady Mansford, " if she were not 
 so handsome. You have no idea what a disagree- 
 able thing it is sometimes to have a very handsome 
 governess." 
 
 "But," suggested Mr. Michelson, '^^my sister- 
 in-law has no grown-up sons, or even grown-up 
 nephews, except Chatham, who never goes near 
 her." 
 
 "And if she had," said Chatham, "she would 
 be superior to such vulgar prejudice. My Aunt 
 Georgiana is a very sensible woman." 
 
 " Many sensible women object to beautiful go- 
 vernesses," said Lady Mansford, laughing. " For 
 my own part, if I had children, I think I would 
 rather have a good-looking than an ugly teacher 
 for them, because they are generally discriminators 
 and lovers of beauty. But I certainly like Miss 
 Burton. There is a certain aristocratic air about
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 215 
 
 her, derived both from nature and family, that 
 bespeaks the real lady ; and I should be sorry to 
 see her placed with low-bred people, who would 
 treat her as an inferior." 
 
 " That my aunt would never do," said Chat- 
 ham; "besides, so beautiful a girl ought to be 
 with some one who would take an interest in her 
 well-doing, and who would act the chaperon, if not 
 the mother, by her, and tell her what to do in 
 difficult cases." 
 
 "What difficult cases?" asked Mr. Michelson. 
 " I think women always know how to take care 
 of themselves; and I am sure that black-eyed little 
 coquette will not be behindhand." 
 
 " Poor girl ! she has no mother," said Lady 
 Mansford ; " and in being cast upon the world will 
 need a friend, or I greatly mistake. What do you 
 really think of Lady Georgiana ? " 
 
 " That if you will write to her, and sound her 
 upon the subject, I will sound the Burtons; and 
 perhaps between us we may do either some good 
 or some harm." 
 
 " You seem greatly interested in their conver- 
 sation," said Miss Erskine to Chatham, rather 
 maliciously. " Who is this very beautiful Miss 
 Burton?" 
 
 "I really scarcely know," replied Chatham,
 
 216 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 slightly embarrassed by the suddenness of the 
 question. " She is of a highly respectable family, 
 who have been somewhat reduced in circumstances, 
 people say by pride and improvidence; but as I 
 have been little in this county until lately, I have 
 never been introduced to her, or her sister^ until 
 today." 
 
 " Really ! " said Miss Erskine, astonished, " I 
 should have thought you quite old acquaintances ; 
 you were as friendly as possible." 
 
 " Oh ! it does not take long, you know, to get 
 acquainted with young ladies on their prefer- 
 ment," said Chatham ; " you and I only met yes- 
 terday." 
 
 With this dubious and very rude speech, Chat- 
 ham walked to the other end of the room, fol- 
 lowed by a look of supreme displeasure from his 
 father. 
 
 The following day Mr. Michelson called on 
 Captain Burford, and, after having been closeted 
 with him some time, proposed sending for Anna 
 to ask her whether she would like to accept a 
 situation as governess, if one were offered to her. 
 She came limping and laughing into the room, 
 and Mr. Michelson inquired about her sprain, and 
 then for Tiny ; both were pretty well, and she was 
 ready to go upon the ice again.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 217 
 
 " Do you intend returning to London again ? '' 
 asked Mr. Miclielson. 
 
 " I believe so/^ replied Anna with a blank look, 
 " I have no choice." 
 
 " If I might be allowed to ask^ would you prefer 
 going elsewhere ? " 
 
 " Anywhere in the world/^ said Anna ; '' I hate 
 Miss Primmerton^s, and cannot bear the idea of 
 going back." 
 
 " Then you would, perhaps, prefer entering a fa- 
 mily as governess, if a good situation were to offer ?" 
 
 "Oh yes! I should like that fifty times better." 
 
 "Lady Mansford told me yesterday that my 
 late wife's sister, Lady Georgiana Meredith, was a 
 short time ago inquiring for a governess for her 
 two little girls : we thought it might suit you." 
 
 " Delightfully ! " said Anna without farther con- 
 sideration. " Will you write directly, and I can 
 go after the holidays." 
 
 Mr. Michelson smiled, and fixed his fall, un- 
 comfortable eyes on her animated face. He ad- 
 mired, and she knew it. " He will do anything 
 for me," she thought. 
 
 " You settle matters as quickly as we are obliged 
 to do in a storm, Anna," said Captain Burford. 
 " We must consult the other authorities before we 
 decide." 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " At all events/' said ^Mr. Michelson, " I will 
 make the necessary inquiries; there can be no 
 harm in that/^ 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Mr. Michelson ! '' said Anna. 
 " Where does Lady Georgiana live ? " 
 
 " I am afraid that will be the most disagreeable 
 part of the matter/' replied Mr. Michelson, " for 
 her abode is a great way off. She lives almost 
 wholly in Wales." 
 
 " That is charming/' said Anna, " I long to go 
 into Wales. Only fancy. Captain Burford, living 
 amongst those grand mountains, and seeing goats, 
 and shepherdesses with broad hats and crooks, and 
 waterfalls, and ravines, and picturesque peasantry, 
 and I do not know what besides. Oh, I must run 
 and tell Jessie directly ! " and away she went. 
 
 "\ am afraid the barren hills of Cardiganshire 
 will disappoint her," said Mr. Michelson, " al- 
 though I believe the country contains many beau- 
 ties; however, we will not disenchant her. Do 
 you think she is fit for a governess ? " 
 
 " I scarcely know what to say," replied Captain 
 Burford ; " but I dare say she will be broken in, 
 like the rest of them." 
 
 "And how is your little friend?" asked Mr. 
 Michelson ; " is she still with you ?" 
 
 "Will you come into the drawing-room, and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 219 
 
 there yoii will find her. They all remained here 
 last night .^^ 
 
 In the drawing-room not only Tiny was found, 
 but, to Mr. Michelson^s evident annoyance, his 
 son Chatham. Anna was not talking of the Welsh 
 mountains, not choosing to do so for reasons best 
 known to herself, before the gallant young Captain, 
 but was declaring herself quite ready to go upon 
 the ice, and into the chair again. 
 
 "1 think you had better not, Anna,'' said Jessie ; 
 " it will look strange after your accident, and you 
 may have another upset." 
 
 " You know, Miss Burton," said Chatham, '^ it 
 is always safest to travel by the coach that broke 
 down last, because the coachman is always more 
 cai-eful, and the horses are better harnessed." 
 
 Jessie shook her head. 
 
 " I do not think your brother will go with you 
 again," said Louisa Colville ; " and Mr. Burford 
 said he had had enough of it.'' 
 
 The two gentlemen alluded to were not present. 
 
 " It is possible to do very well without Nelson 
 and Pynsent," said Anna. " At all events we can 
 go down upon the ice. Uncle Timothy, Captain 
 Burford, will you come? Mr. Michelson, will you 
 come down to the moor ? " 
 
 Mr. Michelson was engaged in talking to Tiny, 
 
 L 2
 
 220 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 but he assented. Tiny said she would stay with 
 Charles, and Uncle Timothy declared himself afraid; 
 but the rest prepared to go, — Jessie rather reluct- 
 antly, as she disliked the idea of the numerous 
 questions their appearance would draw forth : they 
 had already had some score of inquiries. 
 
 Soon after they had left the house, the two 
 young men came in. 
 
 *^ Where is Jessie?" asked Pynsent. 
 
 "Gone down to the moor," replied Charles, 
 " with the rest." 
 
 " What in the world do they do there again to- 
 day ? They had eclat enough yesterday." 
 
 "Captain Michelson asked them to go, and 
 Anna seemed to wish it," said Uncle Timothy; 
 " but Jessie was decidedly averse." 
 
 " I should think so," remarked Pynsent. 
 
 " We had better go after them," said Nelson ; 
 "' perhaps Chatham may have out the chair, and 
 in his harum-scarum way do mischief." 
 
 " I must go home," replied Pynsent. " Besides, 
 I have no ambition for that kind of popularity. 
 I hate the questions, ^ How did it happen ? Where 
 were they hurt?' and so on, just as much as I 
 hate having to tell the story. Don't you, Uncle 
 Timothy?" 
 
 " For my part," said his uncle, " I take refuge
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 221 
 
 under cover of professional secresy. I give it to be 
 understood that I never talk about my patients or 
 their families, and so nobody asks me." 
 
 " Tell Jessie that I shaU be here with the car 
 at three/' said Pynsent. " Tiny must not walk so 
 far ; and I think that scapegrace, Anna, would be 
 much better if she kept quiet, so advise her to 
 come with Charles." 
 
 " I do not imagine she would take my advice," 
 said Nelson, '^ but I will tell Jessie." 
 
 Pynsent went to fetch the car, and Nelson to 
 see after his guests. The latter muttered to him- ' 
 self something to the effect that " women were all 
 full of vanity and folly, and that Annabella Burton 
 was the vainest and silliest of her sex ; that they 
 were all pleasure-seekers, and sacrificed every feel- 
 ing of propriety for mere temporary gratification." 
 And all this because poor Anna liked the innocent 
 amusement of walking and gliding about on the ice ! 
 Men are always so hard upon the follies of women, 
 and so lenient to their own. " She was literally 
 limping," pursued Nelson to himself, "this very 
 morning ; and just because a handsome young man 
 was in the way, she must needs expose herself to a 
 second sprain. Indeed I think it might do her 
 good to have one. How different she is from 
 Jessie ! " here Nelson heaved a sigh ; " and yet.
 
 222 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 do what one will^ one cannot help paying her 
 more attention, and thinking more of her than of 
 her sister. It is a shame that one of her coquettish 
 glances should have more power than the pure, 
 truthful looks of that high-minded, true-hearted 
 Jessie. But what have I to do with either of 
 them ? Why should I take such a vast interest as 
 to whether Anna is falling in love with Chatham 
 Michelson, and he with her, — I, who have vowed 
 myself to my profession, to duty and to glory ? 
 Heigh ho ! I will just go and see Colonel Man- 
 waring, and stay till the little flirt has gone back 
 to her school." 
 
 These reflections were broken in upon by seeing 
 Anna in close conversation with Lady Mansford, 
 to whom, at that lady^s request, Mr. Michelson 
 had introduced her and her sister. Chatham was 
 talking to Miss Colville, and seemed just as devoted 
 to her as he had been to Anna. Indeed he had 
 the power of making himself agreeable to most 
 people, from an unafiected frankness of manner 
 that nature had given him, and that always finds 
 its way to the heart. Kind, courteous, and gen- 
 tlemanlike, Chatham pleased where many a more 
 shining and talented man would have failed. Nel- 
 son, for instance, had five hundred times more of 
 character than he had, and really a much better
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 223 
 
 temper, with perhaps more of genuinely refined 
 feeling, but he sank into insignificance beside his 
 more brilliant friend. Chatham possessed some of 
 his father^ s faults, with much of the amiability of 
 his mother. He was hot-headed and passionate, 
 but generous and forgiving. He had a good share 
 of talent, but neglected its cultivation in his pur- 
 suit of the less worthy acquirements of mere agreea- 
 bility and the art of pleasing. He was selfish too, 
 and although he would not have done a dishonour- 
 able action for the world, he had not the stern prin- 
 ciple within him which could make him sacrifice 
 personal ease, pleasure, or amusement, to a simple 
 sense of duty. He and his father were continually 
 at variance on account of his extravagant habits, 
 which unfortunately were in the main too like 
 Mr. Michelson^s own extravagant habits, but un- 
 counteracted by little meannesses. The more you 
 knew of Chatham, the more you liked him, but 
 the less you esteemed him ; whereas the more you 
 knew of Nelson, the more you must of necessity 
 esteem him, whether you liked him or not. 
 
 "Well, Burford, shall we have the chair out?^^ 
 asked Chatham, when he perceived Nelson. 
 
 " What does Miss Colville say?" asked Nelson. 
 
 "Everybody here seems most anxious for it," 
 said Louisa, "but I really think it is going to 
 fain : look at the sun, how dim and cloudy it is ! "
 
 224 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "Do you think it will rain, Captain Burford?" 
 asked Chatham. 
 
 " Yes, cats and dogs before an hour is over. It 
 is thawing already, and the sooner we make our 
 way across the ice the better." 
 
 '^May I ask who that young lady is?" asked 
 Lady Mansford of Anna, pointing to Miss Colville, 
 just as Nelson came to announce the thaw. 
 
 " Miss Colville, a schoolfellow of mine." 
 
 " Dear me ! is she any relation of the Indian 
 Colvilles?" 
 
 " She is a daughter of Colonel Colville, who is 
 in India." 
 
 " Then I knew her aunt years ago : will you 
 introduce me?" 
 
 Anna heralded Lady Mansford across, and intro- 
 duced her to Louisa. Aunt Betsey stood near, 
 and Lady Mansford suddenly recollected that she 
 had known her also years ago, but that she had 
 neglected her under change of circumstances. She 
 was about to speak, when Aunt Betsey, with a very 
 slight and dignified curtsey, walked away. Anna 
 felt disgusted, as she longed to be intimate with 
 that charming Lady Mansford. 
 
 A thick haze was gathering on all sides. The 
 sun looked through it sulkily, and withdrew all his 
 bright glances from the ice, as if he thought he
 
 SIMIPLICTY AND FASCINATION. 225 
 
 had courted it long enough without meeting any 
 answering warmth. The fog was more successful^ 
 for he drew forth a slight moisture in return for 
 his pressing overtures. The faces of the ladies 
 were beginning to look blue^ and even Anna felt 
 chilled. With one consent they all resolved to 
 leave the moor, and general was the regret that 
 the frost was breaking up. 
 
 " I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you 
 at my house, Miss Colville," said Lady Mansford. 
 
 " Thank you," replied Louisa, '' but my stay in 
 the country will be short, and I am dependent on 
 my friends." 
 
 " I will send for you, and send you back, and 
 shall be delighted if the Miss Burtons would ac- 
 company you," said Lady Mansford. 
 
 " It is scarcely safe to remain here longer," 
 interrupted Mr. Michelson ; " they say the ice is 
 giving way." 
 
 " I Avill write to you. Miss Colville," said Lady 
 Mansford ; " good bye." And the party separated 
 as quickly as they could, Mr. Michelson attending 
 Lady Mansford and the heiress, his son accom- 
 panying the Burtons. 
 
 It was so dangerously slippery that the gentle- 
 men were compelled to assist the ladies. Chatham 
 and Anna were arm-in-arm immediately, and Nel- 
 
 L 3
 
 226 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 son and Miss Colville. Jessie had as much as she 
 could do to keep Captain Burford and Aunt Betsey 
 on their legs. 
 
 The first couple went on merrily enough, in spite 
 of Aima's slight lameness, and the treacherous ice. 
 
 '' And how do you mean to kill this long even- 
 ing?^' asked Chatham; "winter in the country is 
 dreadftil without a houseful of people; but then 
 you are a houseful to be sure, and a merry one.^^ 
 
 "We are going to the Grange as soon as we 
 get home/^ said Anna. 
 
 "How I wish I was going too ! '' sighed Chatham. 
 
 " I am sure my uncle would be very glad to see 
 you," said Anna, " and it is not very far from the 
 HaU." 
 
 " I promised to call on him about the election, 
 by the bye : how thoughtless of me, to have for- 
 gotten ! I will do so on my way home. What tim 
 do you think you shall be there ?" 
 
 " About four or five at the latest."
 
 227 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee 
 Jest and youthful jollity. 
 Quips, and cracks, and wanton wiles, 
 Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 
 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 
 And love to Hve in dimple sleek ; 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter holding both his sides." — MiLTOK. 
 
 I SUPPOSE it is needless to say that wlien the party 
 from Fairfield reached the Grange in their covered 
 car, they found Captain Michelson there, talking 
 politics with Farmer Barnard, and looking anxiously 
 out of the window in expectation of the arrival. 
 It must not be imagined that all our friends went 
 in the said car. Though a roomy and convenient 
 vehicle, it would not hold the united forces of Bur- 
 tons and Burfords. Captain Burford had hired a 
 fly for himself and Charles, in which Tiny and 
 Aunt Betsey also went. Uncle Timothy had made 
 such a point of Aunt Betsey's being of the party, 
 that for the first time in her Ufe she condescended 
 to become Mr. Barnard's guest, and the flutter of
 
 228 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 feelings in the breast of that worthy man was quite 
 overpowering. 
 
 "Don't go, Mr. Chatham/' said Farmer Bar- 
 nard, — " I beg your pardon, Captain Michelson. If 
 you can put up with rough fare and a farmhouse, 
 and enjoy country games, we shall all be glad of 
 your company, I am sure.'' 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " replied Chatham, feeling 
 guilty as Anna looked at him, "I shall be de- 
 lighted." 
 
 " You must have tea for lunch, and supper for 
 dinner," said the farmer. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe all the fun 
 and laughter of that evening at the Grange. Even 
 Aunt Betsey relaxed somewhat from her stiffness, 
 and smiled when the fat farmer actually bent his 
 knee before her in redeeming a forfeit, and thus 
 tacitly confessed that she was the lad}^ of all others 
 that he admired the most. Who could tell all the 
 flirtations, palpitations, and associations of those 
 Christmas games and their attendant forfeits? 
 — how old-fashioned mirth and antiquated jests 
 played at hide-and-seek with propriety ; how men 
 and women forgot the punctilios of society, and 
 romped like children ; and how all were more in- 
 clined to love and friendship at the end than at the 
 beginning of the evening. There is Farmer Bar-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 229 
 
 nard, a great living joke, cracking his sides with 
 laughter at the two little Skinners^ who have been 
 asked to meet Tiny, and who are initiating her 
 into the mysteries of " Trnckle the Trencher." 
 
 " You are Lily of the Valley," says one; " and 
 when somebody twirls the trencher and says ' Lily 
 of the Valley !' you must run and pick it up, and 
 then truckle, and call another flower ; and if you 
 do not catch it before it is flat on the ground, you 
 will have a forfeit." 
 
 ^' Now all say your names," says Jessie, stand- 
 ing in the middle of the room, holding a w^ooden 
 trencher in her hands. 
 
 " Magnolia," says Aunt Betsey, ambitious even 
 in her amusements. 
 
 " What ?" asks Tiny gently of little Skinner. 
 
 " Mag-no-liar," is the reply : " a great fine 
 flower." 
 
 " Poppy,' ^ screams Farmer Barnard. 
 
 " Rose," says Anna. 
 
 ^' Very appropriate," whispers Captain Michel- 
 son, who is seated by her side, and is overheard 
 by Nelson, standing near. 
 
 " Myrtle," calls Chatham, and adds quietly, 
 " The rose wants the myrtle to make it perfect ;" 
 and Anna blushes, whilst Chatham gazes on her 
 admiringly.
 
 230 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " I will have a wild flower," says Louisa Col- 
 ville, '' Forget-me-not." 
 
 " So will I," exclaimed Pynsent, answering that 
 gentle, blue-eyed, lovable Forget-me-not : '' Water- 
 lily." 
 
 '' Water-lilies ought to shelter Forget-me-nots," 
 says Captain Burford maliciously; "so. Water- 
 lily, take care of that delicate Forget-me-not." 
 
 " Camomile-flowers," says Uncle Timothy drily, 
 and causes a great laugh. 
 
 " Lily-of-the- Valley," says Tiny. 
 
 " Fuchsia and Geranium," the two little Skin- 
 ners. 
 
 " Coxcomb," cries Captain Burford. 
 
 " Very inappropriate," says Jessie ; " and now 
 Nelson, it is your turn." 
 
 '^ I don^t know any more flowers," says Nelson 
 carelessly. 
 
 " Cowslip, — be ^ Cowslip,^," suggests Jessie ; " do 
 you remember the huge tisty-tosties we used to 
 make long ago ?" 
 
 " Cowslip be it, little Violet," said Nelson, re- 
 collections of boyhood and cowslip-gathering with 
 Jessie rushing through his mind. ^' And you ?" 
 
 '^ You have named me ' Violet,' " says Jessie ; 
 " and now we will begin the game ; remember, 
 first, that when any one calls ^ Flowers ! ' every- 
 body must change places, or forfeit."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 231 
 
 The servants are seen peeping in at the door, 
 and Jessie begs them to come in, and sit down by 
 the door, and see the fun. 
 
 Jessie truckles the trencher capitally, and calls 
 '' Coxcomb !" 
 
 Up jumps " Coxcomb," and just catching it in 
 time, twirls, and shouts," Lily-of-the- Valley !" 
 
 Lily calls, " Poppy !" and that luckless flower 
 slips, and slipping, knocks down the trencher. 
 
 " A forfeit ! a forfeit !" and Poppy pulls forth 
 a large clasp-knife, twirls^ and shouts, "Magno- 
 lia!" 
 
 Magnolia glides across the room, takes the 
 trencher between her finger and thumb daintily, 
 truckles, and cries " Flowers !" gliding herself into 
 a vacant seat, and putting all the people in mo- 
 tion. 
 
 Strange that Chatham finds himself again by 
 Anna in their new seats, and Nelson is the for- 
 feited one, without a seat, in the middle of the 
 room. 
 
 "Eose !" he cries. 
 
 Rose darts across like a star, and summons 
 "Myrtle." Myrtle calls "Violet;" Violet in- 
 vokes " Camomile-flowers," who fairly falls down 
 amid roars of laughter ; Camomile -flowers calls 
 " Forget-me-not," who wishes to call " Water-
 
 232 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 lily/^ but changes, and says " Flowers!" Geranium 
 is forfeited, who is delighted to have out " Poppy," 
 who screams for '' Fuchsia," and is by Fuchsia 
 screamed for again. 
 
 And so goes on the game, young and old playing 
 with equal enjoyment, and Farmer Barnard and 
 Captain Burford finding themselves in greater re- 
 quest than all the rest put together. The forfeits 
 are given into the care of Charles, who looks on in 
 his armchair by the fire, and when there is a suffi- 
 cient number, he cries them. 
 
 " Here is a thing, and a very pretty thing, what 
 shall the lady do to redeem it again?" he asks 
 Nelson, who is kneeling at his feet. 
 
 " Kneel to the handsomest, bow to the wittiest, 
 and shake hands with the one she loves best." 
 
 " Anna's forfeit," says Charles. 
 
 " It used to be, ' kiss the one she loves best,' in 
 my younger days," says Farmer Barnard. 
 
 " The rising generation are too fine for that," 
 says Captain Burford ; " I don't suppose they ever 
 heard of kissing." 
 
 Anna kneels gracefully to Captain Michelson, 
 bows to Nelson, and pauses, with her finger on her 
 mouth, to consider. The two young men feel 
 nervous. 
 
 " No relations, Miss Anna," says Captain Bur-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 233 
 
 ford ; " they are not allowed in forfeits, for every- 
 body knows that one loves one's relations." 
 
 " Very well/' said Anna, running round behind 
 the Captain, and imprinting a kiss upon his cheek, 
 over his shoulder. " Now never say again that 
 the rising generation do not know what kissing 
 means." 
 
 " You monkey ! I don't believe you," says Cap- 
 tain Burford. 
 
 '' Here's a thing, and a very pretty thing, what 
 shall the gentleman do to redeem it again ?" 
 
 Anna peeps, and sees Captain Burford' s gold 
 snuflP-box. 
 
 " Dance the Sailor's Hornpipe," she says. 
 
 " Come, Coxcomb," exclaimed Charles, holding 
 up the box. 
 
 " I'll pay you off, you gipsy ! but you shall not 
 get my snuff-box," says the Captain, and sets to 
 work with all his heart, and dances a regular sailor's 
 jig, which Jessie hums for him. 
 
 " Bravo ! bravo !" cry the whole party, as he falls 
 panting at Charles's feet, to cry the next forfeit. 
 
 " Spell 'Opportunity' in the corner with Mr. 
 Barnard of the Grange," he says. 
 
 " Aunt Betsey !" exclaims Charles, smothering 
 a laugh. 
 
 Aunt Betsey declines the forfeit with dignity,
 
 234 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 \ 
 
 but Farmer Barnard, forgetful of his usual shy- 
 ness, rises, and insists on conducting her to the 
 corner. She gives her hand, and they walk slowly 
 thither. 
 
 " You are not of the rising generation, remem- 
 ber, Barnard," says the Captain. 
 
 Barnard did remember, and as Aunt Betsey deli- 
 berately spelt " Opportunity," meditated the insult 
 of a salute ; but his courage failed him, as he gazed 
 on Aunt Betsey^s frigid demeanour, and he could 
 only lead her to her seat again. 
 
 " I should not have believed that of you,'^ says 
 Captain Bm-ford. 
 
 Various were the forfeits cried. Tiny had to 
 kiss Captain Michelson, which she was a long time 
 resolving to do ; Chatham to dance a reel with the 
 two prettiest young ladies in the room, which he 
 performed with Anna and Louisa Colville; Jessie 
 to sing a song ; Pynsent to make himself agreeable 
 to the ladies — which he did, by paying them the 
 most outrageous compliments ; and Nelson to re- 
 peat a portion of Shakspeare to some young lady 
 present. He performed his part charmingly, by 
 addressing the two sisters in the beautiful passage 
 from the ' Midsummer Night's Dream,' that be- 
 gins— 
 
 " We, Hermia, like two artificial gods," etc.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 235 
 
 " Upon my word^ Nelson, you must have been 
 on the Indian stage/' said Captain Burford, look- 
 ing proudly on his son, and feeling pleased at his 
 joining Jessie with her lovelier sister, in his address. 
 
 And so the evening sped ; the game was changed, 
 and various others succeeded, — quiet ones, that 
 Charles could join in. They had " What's my 
 thought like?'' and '' How, when, and where?" 
 and " Cross questions and crooked answers," and 
 last of all, " I love my love," which caused much 
 mirth. Pynsent, who was undeniably the quiet 
 wag of the party, managed so that Farmer Bar- 
 nard should have the letter '' B," and he began, 
 " I love my love with a B, because she is beautiful ; 
 I hate her because she is bilious ; I took her to the 
 sign of the Bear, and treated her to blackberries : 
 the ugliest part about her is her bonnet, the pret- 
 tiest her — her — ^beauty ; her name is — " here he 
 paused. " Betsey," whispered Pynsent ; " Burton," 
 murmured Captain Burford ; and between the two 
 the good farmer was quite abashed. " Her name 
 is Betsey," at last he said, and she lives at — 
 " Bairfield," muttered Captain Burford ; " Barn- 
 staple," boldly said Mr. Barnard. 
 
 Then it came to Chatham to love his love with 
 an R, and he said her name was " Rose," which 
 caused Anna to blush ; and thus the varied feelings
 
 236 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 of poor human nature "were excited by this game 
 of forfeits. 
 
 Just before supper came Mr. Skinner, an unheard 
 of honour, and one that might well have been dis- 
 pensed Avith, not only by his acquaintances, but by 
 his children, who looked blank at the apparition. 
 
 " What do you think of Jessie's intended V 
 asked Pynsent of Louisa Colville. 
 
 " Horrid !" was the reply. 
 
 Jessie was busy seeing about supper, which was 
 laid in the large hall, and consisted of every variety 
 of Christmas fare. When they sat down to it, Mr. 
 Skinner did actually manage to get next to Jessie, 
 who had taken a small Skinner on the other side. 
 It was very odd that she never sat beside any one 
 she cared to be next to. Again Aunt Betsey was 
 voted to the head of the table, and she had never been 
 so agreeable before. Truly heart-gaiety is infectious. 
 There was Anna again, between the two soldier 
 beaux, dividing her favours, like a little coquette as 
 she was ; and Charles managed to sit up to supper 
 — he was evidently getting stronger. 
 
 After supper, when abundance of wine, and 
 something stronger than wine, contained in a set 
 of small decanters, was on the table, songs were 
 proposed. Jessie and Charles sang duets beauti- 
 fully, and they were at once called upon to begin 
 the concert. Charles said his voice was weak, but
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 237 
 
 he would do his best. They sang the fine duet 
 from the Midsummer Night^s Dream, " I know a 
 bank/^ — fine, both in poetry and music ; everybody 
 was delighted. No accompaniment could have im- 
 proved that harmonious blending of voices. Then, 
 according to custom, Jessie called for a song, and 
 she named " Captain Michelson." He had a very 
 fine cultivated voice, and sang without requiring to 
 be pressed, " Drink to me only with thine eyes," 
 which elicited much applause. He called on Anna, 
 but she could not sing without an accompaniment ; 
 neither could Miss Colville. Aunt Betsey was his 
 next attempt. She simpered, and declined, and said 
 she had given up singing ; but as everybody knew 
 she used to sing, they would let her have no peace 
 until she consented to try. Her voice was still good, 
 and, to the great prejudice of Farmer Barnard^ s 
 peace of mind, she sang a song that he used to hear 
 her sing when in the zenith of her charms and 
 cruelty. It was sadly at variance with her cha- 
 racter, but singers are not in the habit of stopping 
 to consider whether they themselves practise what 
 they sing. It was called, " The Friend and the 
 Lover," and, in very sensible language, declared 
 that the lady was waiting until she could find 
 a true, kind, clever, and courteous mate. The re- 
 frain of each verse was —
 
 238 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " Nor e'er will I marry till the one I can find 
 Where the friend and the lover are equally join'd." 
 
 Farmer Barnard chimed in loudly in this chorus^ 
 and highly approved the sentiment. 
 
 Then followed a wonderful Christmas carol, 
 drawled out, in character, and as a duet, by 
 Farmer Barnard and Pynsent, which made every- 
 body present die of laughing, and wonder whether 
 either uncle or nephew possessed any of the family 
 talent for music. 
 
 Captain Burford sang a good sea-song with all 
 his heart, and of course it was ' Cease, loud Boreas, 
 blustering railer.' 
 
 Nelson was no great singer, but he used, in his 
 boyhood, to sing with Jessie, so he was loudly 
 called upon for one of the old ditties. 
 
 "No song, no supper !^^ cried Farmer Barnard, 
 forgetful that supper was over. 
 
 "Well, Jessie, you must sing with me," said 
 Nelson. " The only song I remember is ' The Cot 
 beside the Lime-tree.^ " 
 
 "Very well," said Jessie, who sat opposite 
 Nelson, and had been rather pained by his lack of 
 attention during supper : he had not even asked 
 her to take wine with him. 
 
 They began the following song, in which Jessie 
 rather supported Nelson than actually sang with 
 him, making a pretty second to his tenor : —
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 239 
 
 THE COT BESIDE THE LIME-TEEE. 
 
 A pleasant cot shall ours be, 
 
 My Dora dear, my Dora dear ; 
 Down yonder by the Lime-tree 
 
 Its walls we'U raise, its thatch we'U rear, 
 And round about the windows 
 
 We'll plant the rose and vine, 
 And up the Httle cliimney 
 
 The ivy shall entwine ; 
 
 And flowers shall blow, 
 And herbs shaU grow, 
 
 When thou art mine, art mine. 
 
 A merry cot shall ours be. 
 
 My own true love, my own true love ; 
 For in the flowering Lime-tree 
 
 The birds shall sing, the bees shall rove ; 
 And cheerful through the garden 
 
 The Httle stream shall play. 
 Where shining trout and minnows 
 
 Shall dance their Hves away ; 
 And thou shalt be 
 As glad with me, 
 
 As they, my love, as they. 
 
 A peaceful life shall ours be 
 
 When thou'rt my wife, when thou'rt my wife. 
 Beneath the fragrant Lime-tree, — 
 
 No bitter words, no angry strife ; 
 Content shall crown our labour, 
 
 And love shall grace our cot, 
 Thy smiles shall make our homestead 
 
 A rich sunshmy spot ; 
 And we shall bless. 
 In cheerfiilness, 
 
 Our lot, our happy lot.
 
 240 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 That simple song did Nelson good. Much of 
 disquiet and jealousy had been rankling in his 
 mind all that evening. Jessicas sweet voice, join- 
 ing with his own, seemed to enter gently into his 
 heart and calm it ; and when he glanced across at 
 her, and saw the modest, blushing face, and the 
 eyes cast down, as if upon the hands in which the 
 little girl next her had caressingly slipped hers, all 
 the affections of his deep, true heart swelled up as 
 of old, and again flowed over the hard stones and 
 pebbles that had been laid bare at its bottom. He 
 inwardly said that if, in the whole world, there 
 was one human being true, pure, and good, it was 
 Jessie. Her voice faltered a little once or twice, 
 and he fancied that he saw something like moisture 
 pressing through the soft eyelashes. When she 
 looked up, and met his glance, and blushed and 
 smiled, he was quite convinced there was a tear in 
 her eye, and he asked himself whether old associa- 
 tions had forced it there. 
 
 When the praises and thanks of the party ceased, 
 and they had begun to ask for more songs. Nelson 
 said quietly, " Jessie, may I have the pleasure of 
 taking wine with you?" and as she, in the words 
 of Chatham's song, " drank to him only with those 
 eyes," he thought them the dearest and best he 
 had ever looked into.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 241 
 
 It is a pity that good old sociable custom of 
 pledging one another over the wineglass should be 
 nearly extinct ; quite so, indeed, in the fashionable 
 world. Almost the last remnant of the ancient 
 hospitality of our forefathers, it is ill replaced by 
 the "Wine, Sir?" or "Wine, Ma'am?'' of the 
 dandified footman behind your chair. There was 
 a friendliness in the glance, nod, and smile, that 
 helped to break the ice of a stiif, frigid dinner 
 party, or to warm into conversation the shy, silent 
 pair who had l)een sitting side by side and exhaust- 
 ing all their stock of monosyllables before. Better 
 still, it sometimes cemented friendship or awakened 
 love, or made eyes bright that had been dull. 
 Not unfrequently it reconciled divided lovers, by 
 loosening the bands of hard jealousy or unkind- 
 ness that had fastened round the heart, but which 
 the glance of fellowship rent in twain ; or it was 
 the first symptom of reconciliation between friends 
 or acquaintances at variance from slight, silly 
 causes; or it helped to make mere acquaintances 
 friends. On the present occasion it made Jessie 
 glad and gay, and Nelson himself again. 
 
 It was a fine, clear, frosty, moonlight morning 
 when the party found themselves on their way 
 homewards. The fly went on swiftly before, and 
 its inmates had not much to say for themselves, — 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 they were so tired and sleepy ; but around the car 
 hovered all kinds of emotions. Was there ever a 
 car that was fall of young people of both sexes, 
 returning from a Christmas party, around which, 
 or in which, various emotions did not dwell? 
 Pynsent was driving, and Anna proposed to Louisa 
 CoMUe to sit on the driving-seat with him, that 
 they might look at the " beautiful, exquisite moon/^ 
 Louisa consented, and they put Pynsent between 
 them. This arrangement enabled Captain Michel- 
 son to ride by Annans side, and reining in his good 
 horse, to watch the moonbeams flickering about 
 her. Uncle Timothy was dozing inside, and Nelson 
 sat by Jessie. They took Mr. Skinner and his 
 children as far as their entrance-gate, and were 
 not sorry to bid them good-night. Mr. Skinner 
 actually pressed Jessie's hand in his bony fingers 
 as he got out of the car, and the pressure thrilled 
 painfully through her nervous system. The thrill 
 passed away however, as thrills usually do, and she 
 soon found herself joining Nelson in the duet, 
 ' Flow on, thou shining river,^ which he was hum- 
 ming in the moonlight. Conversation ceased, and 
 all the young people joined to make the night mu- 
 sical, by uniting their voices in song. ^ Meet me by 
 moonlight,' ' Oh no, we never mention her,' ^ The 
 Soldier's Tear,' ^ Alice Gray,' and many other sim-
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 243 
 
 pie ballads of the period, were sung in chorus, and 
 gentle, pleasant thoughts and feelings were inspired 
 bv the strains. 
 
 The threatened thaw had not continued, but Frost 
 cast his white garment over the earth. The hedges 
 were hung with icicles that rivalled the diamonds 
 pendent from the ears of an Eastern princess, or 
 the jewels studding her garments. Not a cloud 
 fell on the placid face of the moon, that gazed, like 
 a tender mother, on the sleeping earth, and con- 
 verted all her night-gear into silver tissue. Each 
 star seemed a spirit, each blade of grass a bright 
 fairy worshiper, each trembling withered leaf a 
 winter firefly. Clearly rang the music through 
 the frosty air ; and as Jessie glanced at the sky, and 
 saw those wonderful orbs of eternal light looking 
 down upon them, she thought of the worlds unseen 
 by mortal eye, and of their unknown inhabitants. 
 She sank into a train of pious meditation, that in- 
 duced her, when asked to begin another song, to 
 choose ' The Happy Land,^ with the closing verse 
 of which they reached Fairfield. 
 
 M 2
 
 244 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Can it be flattery, to swear those eyes 
 Are Love's eternal lamps he fires all hearts with ? 
 That tongue the smart string to his bow ? those sighs 
 The deadly shafts he sends into our souls ? 
 Ah ! look upon me with thy spring of beauty," 
 
 John Fletchee, 
 
 " I AM sure I could make those wreaths best/^ said 
 Jessie to Anna and Louisa ColviUe, who were tor- 
 turing hollyberries and snowberries into aU kinds 
 of shapes. 
 
 "^Do try, dear!" said Anna, throwing do\^Ti a 
 wreath that she had in her hands. 
 
 '^ You had better go and dress the while," said 
 Jessie, " or we shall I5e late, and Captain Burford 
 hates anybody to be a minute behind time." 
 
 " Oh, pray let me help you ! " said Louisa Col- 
 ville, " we shall finish them quicker together ; and 
 Anna can go and dress first, so as to be ready to 
 help us." 
 
 OflP went Anna, nothing loath, and the wreaths 
 progressed famously under Jessicas neat, tasteful
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 245 
 
 fingers. The one of ivy and sno wherries was soon 
 completed, and then followed that of ivy and holly. 
 Tiny stood hy, to thread the needles, and pick out 
 pretty bunches from amongst the mass of ever- 
 greens that lay upon the table. 
 
 "1 hope your brother will not see us," said 
 Louisa. "He will laugh at our vanity, and I 
 should never have the courage to wear the wreath 
 afterwards." 
 
 " There ! " exclaimed Jessie, holding up the red 
 and green chaplet, "that will become Anna very 
 much. I have mixed a few arbutus berries in it, 
 and they show out famously amongst the green." 
 
 "And what are you going to wear?" asked 
 Louisa Colville. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " laughed Jessie : " fancy me, 
 a steady old housekeeper and farmer, sporting 
 wreaths of flowers ! '^ 
 
 " Then you shall wear this little bunch of lau- 
 restinus, just to please me," said Louisa, holding 
 a spray against her brown hair. 
 
 " Oh yes, if you please ! " said Tiny, " it looks 
 so well. You cannot think how pretty you look, 
 Jessie." 
 
 "We must go and dress now," said Jessie, 
 taking up the wreaths and going upstairs. 
 
 I dare say my lady readers would like to know
 
 246 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 what these young damsels wore at their first pubHc 
 dance ; for Captain Burford was to give a dance that 
 nighty and everybody was to be there. Jessie and 
 Anna wore simple white muslin dresses, but Annans 
 was ornamented with red ribbons, whereas Jessie 
 wore no ornaments of any kind. Louisa Colville 
 sported a pale blue net over a smart satin slip, and 
 as she was remarkably fair, it became her well. The 
 snowberry wreath wound prettily round her braided 
 hair, and the blue eyes, and soft pink and white 
 cheeks looked very lovable beneath. Upon Annans 
 small head and jet-black hair the holly and ivy sat 
 superbly, lighting up her sparkling beauty, and 
 giving her the air of some proud, beautiful Diana 
 crowned with flowers. 
 
 '^ Oh, Anna, you look so beautifiil ! " said Tiny, 
 throwing her arms round her, and gazing with in- 
 tense admiration on her face. 
 
 Anna looked in the glass, and knew that the 
 child spoke the truth. 
 
 " To please me !^' said Louisa entreatingly, hold- 
 ing up the laurestinus. 
 
 " Well, I shall cut you all out, if I do,^^ said 
 Jessie, sitting down, whilst Louisa inserted the 
 flowers tastefully. 
 
 '^ I would rather stay with Charles,'^ said Tiny, 
 '' if I might ; and I am so afraid of spoiling my 
 best white frock."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 247 
 
 *' Captain Burford would be annoyed if you were 
 not to go/' said Anna ; ^' and we will get tlie frock 
 washed nicely before you go back to London/^ 
 
 The frock was very plain, and rather old fa- 
 shioned. 
 
 "Let her wear this pink sash for once," said 
 Louisa Colville, bringing one of hers from a 
 drawer. 
 
 The pink sash was tried, and looked so well, 
 that the child was permitted to wear it, and, to 
 complete her smartening, Louisa put a sprig of 
 laurestinus into the sash. 
 
 *^^A11 ready for conquest?" said Pynsent, peep- 
 ing out of his room as they walked down the pas- 
 sage, and then following at a distance. 
 
 " You have been quite as long adorning as we 
 have been," said Anna, tossing round her head. 
 
 " Adorable beauty ! " cried Pynsent, sinking on 
 one knee in the passage, and putting his hand on 
 his heart. 
 
 Anna ran back and tried to push him down, but 
 failed. 
 
 '' Well, Aunt Betsey," said Pynsent when they 
 reached the parlour, " you and I shall have more 
 than we can do to chaperon these four young 
 ladies. Indeed I think I shall have it all to my- 
 self, for you look as young as any of them."
 
 248 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Certainly Aunt Betsey did look very young at a 
 little distance. 
 
 Pynsent had never been a ball-goer, and had 
 rarely before seen young ladies in full dress, there- 
 fore Louisa Colville appeared quite a star to him. 
 He condescended to look at her twice — a compli- 
 ment he rarely paid to a lady — and to assure them 
 all that they really looked very well ; adding aside 
 to Anna, that he had once paused before a shop- 
 window in London, to look at a very fine collection 
 of lovely dolls, and that they were exactly curled 
 and furbelowed like them. 
 
 Nevertheless Pynsent was very proud of his 
 "dolls," when, with Miss Colville by his side, 
 he entered Captain Burford's large dining-room, 
 cleared out for dancing. As this party was in 
 honour of Nelson^ s return from India, everybody 
 was invited, and the room was already half-full of 
 guests. It was soon quite full, and dancing began. 
 
 Anna and Louisa Colville were unquestionably 
 the belles of the evening ; and when it was under- 
 stood that the latter was the daughter of a Colonel 
 and an heiress, partners multiplied upon her to 
 such an extent, that she did not know how to 
 dance with them all. Pynsent was tormented to 
 death for introductions; and in his amusement 
 and amazement at ihc furore of the beaux, he said
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 249 
 
 the most impossible and improbable things about 
 her. 
 
 "What is her name, Burton?" asked one. 
 
 " Colville/^ replied Pynsent. 
 
 "Who is she?" inquired a third. 
 
 " One of the great Colvilles of Castle Colville, 
 in the County Clare; her ancestor was Baron de 
 ColviUe." 
 
 " Has she so much money ?" demanded a fourth. 
 
 "Enormous wealth, I believe, — not only from 
 her father, the Colonel, but from no end of uncles 
 and aunts." 
 
 " How much should you say she was worth ? " 
 asked a young curate, who, having only a hundred 
 a year and very moderate expectations, was on the 
 look-out for money. 
 
 "One never knows those Indian fortunes. I 
 did hear how many millions of lacs of rupees, but 
 I really have forgotten." 
 
 " She is remarkably pretty," said the young 
 curate. "Who is that beautiful girl near her? 
 she is really splendid !" 
 
 "It is lucky you said so," replied Pynsent; 
 "she is my sister. I thought you had met her 
 before." 
 
 " Ah, yes ! some time ago. Will you do me the 
 favour to introduce me?" 
 
 M 3
 
 250 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "To which?" asked Pynsent. 
 
 " Oh ! to Miss the heiress, if you please.'^ 
 
 Miss the heiress was engaged; and the curate 
 retired disappointed,, to seek out the next wealthiest 
 young lady in the room. In the course of the 
 evening, however, he managed to dance with Miss 
 Colville, fell violently in love with her^ and almost 
 proposed for her. Louisa was astonished and flat- 
 tered by her vast " success," but little knew how 
 much of it she owed to Pynsent^ s account of her 
 wealth. Of course Anna's admirers were of the 
 more disinterested class, as everybody knew she 
 had no money ; but then they were literally wor- 
 shipers. She had the power of fixing by her 
 beauty, and of then putting the coup de grace by 
 the most fascinating, tantalizing manners. Cap- 
 tain Michelson seemed to have no eyes but for her. 
 True, he danced with others; admired Louisa 
 Colville; said she was thoroughly well-dressed — 
 the best dressed girl in the room : still Anna was 
 the magnet. Nelson too, — the grave, yet change- 
 able Nelson, — was almost as much devoted; and 
 whilst, as in duty bound, making himself agreeable 
 to all the guests in turn, he found himself looking 
 at her, thinking of her, and talking to her con- 
 tinually. 
 
 " And are you really going to my aunt's, to
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 251 
 
 bury yourself in Wales ?" asked Chatham, in one 
 of the pauses of the dance. 
 
 " I suppose so, if she likes," said Anna, colour- 
 ing ; " I have not heard yet." 
 
 " But do you like it ?" asked Chatham. 
 
 '^Of course I do not," was the reply; " I hate 
 it ; but it is better than Miss Primmerton^s." 
 
 "But why need you do either?" 
 
 " I believe I have no choice. But pray do not 
 talk of such odious things now ; I want to forget 
 it, until I am obliged to remember it. Let me be 
 an independent Burton as long as I can." 
 
 The proud girl drew herself up and glanced 
 round as she said this, as if the Burtons were, and 
 always had been, the first people in the world. 
 
 Chatham admired the pride, and inwardly de- 
 clared that she should never have that fine spirit, 
 as he called it, crushed, if he could help it, 
 
 " What a conceited girl that Annabella Burton 
 is !" said Miss Sandford to Miss Smith, two young 
 ladies who were sitting as wallflowers during the 
 quadrille in question. 
 
 " She looks as if it was a condescension for her 
 to dance at all," said Miss Smith ; '' she, too, as 
 poor as a church mouse, and going to be a go- 
 verness ! " 
 
 " She will soon have her conceit taken out of
 
 252 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 her/' said Mrs. Smith ; " I wonder Mr. Michel- 
 son allows his son to be so attentive to her.'' 
 
 ^^ So do I/' said Mr. Dart, a good-natured old 
 gentleman who was sitting near, "^^if he can help 
 it. But young men will be attentive to handsome 
 girls — and she is a handsome girl. I do not think 
 she is exactly conceited, but she looks proud. That 
 is the worst of those finishing London schools — 
 they put such absurd notions into people's heads." 
 
 '^ Will you give me that piece of myrtle ?" said 
 Chatham, as the quadrille concluded, and Anna 
 picked up a sprig that had fallen from her bosom. 
 
 ^'^Of what value could it be to you?" asked 
 Anna, looking, or pretending to look, astonished. 
 
 " I assure you I should prize it beyond anything 
 in the world," said Chatham enthusiastically. 
 
 " What ! if it came from your aunt's future go- 
 verness ?" said Anna carelessly, giving the myrtle 
 as she spoke. 
 
 Chatham looked at her reproachfully, but met 
 such a proud, half- contemptuous glance, that he 
 scarcely knew what to make of her. 
 
 " If Miss Annabella Burton is to be my aunt's 
 future governess," said Chatham, " both my aunt 
 and her nephew will, I am sure, value whatever 
 comes from her." 
 
 '^Is she kind, then — and not overbearing — and
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 253 
 
 will she treat me like a lady — and not — not — ?" 
 said Anna^ recovering her natural manner, and 
 speaking hastily. 
 
 " As she is a lady, and you are a lady, I do not 
 know what else she could do/^ said Chatham. 
 
 Anna looked grateful, and, as the dance was 
 over, walked towards Jessie, who was sitting with 
 her Uncle Timothy, anxiously watching her, and 
 feeling uncomfortable at the earnest and animated 
 conversation that she was carrying on with Captain 
 Michelson. Uncle Timothy had been confiding to 
 her his fears that Anna was too volatile rightly and 
 conscientiously to be made a governess; and Jessie 
 was dreading the temptations that must surround 
 one so evidently and universally an object of admi- 
 ration. Scarcely was Anna seated by her side, when 
 Pynsent came up, accompanied by Louisa Colville, 
 with whom he had been, contrary to custom, walk- 
 ing through a dance. Be it said, that Pynsent rather 
 eschewed dancing upon principle : not exactly reli- 
 gious principle, but because he chose to consider it 
 beneath the dignity of the lords of the creation. 
 
 "I am requested," he said, bowing to Anna, 
 "to beg my beautiful and accomplished second 
 sister to favour the company with a song. Every- 
 body knows that you have learnt of Signor Squal- 
 lini, and we are all anxious to know how he
 
 254 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 teaches. Miss Colville has kindly consented to 
 assist in a duet^ and we are all on the very points 
 of the horns of expectation." 
 
 " How can we sing," said Anna, '' when the 
 piano is not in this room ? " 
 
 "The company will feel themselves honoured 
 by going into the drawing-room/' said Pynsent, 
 ^' where I have caused to be placed the little secret 
 roll of music that I found in the car, and thus have 
 stopped up all avenues of escape." 
 
 " Pynsent, you are too provoking," said Anna. 
 
 " DonH say so, now ; because if you had not 
 meant to sing, you would not have brought your 
 music," replied Pynsent. 
 
 " We are going to have some music," here broke 
 in Nelson ; ^' will you all come into the drawing- 
 room ? Miss Colville, I hope you will be so kind 
 as to sing — and you. Miss Annabella." 
 
 They all followed Nelson into the drawing-room, 
 where there was a somewhat antiquated piano, that 
 had belonged to his mother. A young lady was 
 already singing, much to the delight of our two 
 belles, who wished to avoid beginning. Their turn 
 came, however, and they sang an Italian duet, 
 Anna taking the first. They had been well taught, 
 and had good voices, — Anna's was, indeed, very 
 good, and her singing sufficiently finished for a
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 255 
 
 young lady of eighteen. As she was not nervous^ 
 she created quite a sensation^ whilst poor Louisa_, 
 who was fairly frightened to deaths broke down. 
 Captain Michelson came to the rescue^ and taking 
 up the second — the duet was the " Deh con te" of 
 Norma — he and Anna finished it triumphantly to- 
 gether. Mr. Michelson came into the room at the 
 conclusion^ and^ with the air of a connoisseur^ ap- 
 plauded. He was passionately fond of Italian 
 musicj and sang well himself. Turning over some 
 other duets that lay on the piano^ he asked Anna 
 to sing one with him. She did so_, and sang^it 
 well. As not many of the young people cared 
 much about Italian singing, most of them gra- 
 dually dropped off to the dancing-room, and left 
 few behind, except our friends^ the Burton and 
 Michelson set : we include Nelson therein. Louisa 
 Colville played the accompaniments, and Anna 
 sang, now alone, and now with Mr. Michelson or 
 Chatham, all the songs she had brought with her. 
 Mr. ^Michelson was delighted — so was his son — so 
 was Nelson, though in reality he preferred Jessie's 
 voice and style of singing to Anna's. Then Chat- 
 ham sat down at the piano, and struck a few 
 chords. His father begged him to sing. He sang 
 the beautiful little ballad, *''' Annie Laurie," so 
 weU, and with such feeling, that Anna Burton felt
 
 256 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 her cheek flush every time that he came to the 
 concluding line — 
 
 " And for bonnie Annie Laurie 
 I'd lay me doun and dee." 
 
 "That must be meant for Anna/^ whispered 
 Tiny to Jessie, " only her eyes are black instead of 
 blue.^^ 
 
 Mr. Michelson overheard the words, and darted 
 a frowning glance upon the child, which melted, 
 however, into one of strange softness, when he met 
 her gentle eye. 
 
 *" Do you like music V he said, seating himself 
 by her side, and taking her little hand in his. 
 
 " Yes, very much," she replied. 
 
 " And which song did you like best?" 
 
 " The one you sang with Anna," was the answer 
 of the unconscious flatterer. 
 
 " Do you think you should like me, if you knew 
 me?" asked Mr. Michelson, with a strange feeling 
 of anxiety at his heart. 
 
 Tiny hung her head. 
 
 '^Answer, dear," said Jessie; "you need not be 
 afraid, if you tell the truth." 
 
 " I think I should," said Tiny timidly ; and Mr. 
 Michelson felt real pleasure at the reply. 
 
 Whilst Mr. Michelson was talking to Tiny, 
 Jessie glanced across at the piano, and saw a bit
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 257 
 
 of by-play going on which pained her in more 
 ways than one. Anna was bending her head over 
 a piece of music that she held in her haud^ and 
 blushing through the curls that partly shaded her 
 face, as they fell on the music. Chatham, who 
 had finished his song, but was still seated at the 
 piano, was looking up in her face and whispering. 
 Jessie did not hear what he said, but we did. He 
 too had overheard Tiny^s loud whisper, and said — 
 
 " Yes, the words were intended for Anna Bur- 
 ton, though her eyes are black and not blue." 
 
 On the opposite side of the piano Nelson was 
 leaning on his elbow, and gazing, partly concealed 
 by the music which intervened, on Anna. As if 
 he heard the words, as he saw the blush, a dark 
 shadow fell on his face, and his brows contracted, 
 as if he were in pain. Jessie knew well, by the 
 stern expression of the mouth, that he was dis- 
 pleased, and suddenly her own cheek grew pale, 
 and her poor heart felt a pang. Nelson hastily 
 left the room, and in a few minutes afterwards 
 Chatham and Anna followed arm-in-arm, engaged 
 for the next waltz. Mr. Michelson^s quick eye 
 caught the pair, and he too went to the dancing- 
 room. Pynsent brought a partner for Louisa Col- 
 ville, and soon the only inmates of the drawing- 
 room were Jessie and Tiny. The former sat down
 
 258 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 on an easy chair by the fire, and Tiny on a stool 
 at her feet. 
 
 Poor Jessie ! This is the first harsh awakening 
 from her hfe-long dream. True, she may fall back 
 again into the same dream, but never will it be so 
 untroubled and happy as it has hitherto been. To 
 have lived her childhood and early girlhood with 
 Nelson had helped to make those portions of her 
 life pass gently, in spite of the sorrows that ob- 
 scured it. To have wandered with him in thought 
 through the cities, mountains, and plains of India, 
 had been her dearest pleasure for the last eight 
 years; and to dwell with him for ever at some 
 future time — to share his hopes and fears — his joys 
 and sorrows — to be his trusting, helping friend 
 and comforter, was, she scarcely knew why, the 
 desire of her soul, and had been so ever since she 
 could remember to have formed a wish. But were 
 his thoughts, hopes, and wishes like hers? She 
 did not know. She began to fear not. Oh ! Cap- 
 tain Burford, why did you plant in her mind, from 
 infancy, fancies that might never be realized ? Why 
 sow seeds of love and hope that never were to blos- 
 som? 
 
 Captain Burford came to answer for himself. 
 He had missed his dear Jessie, and was searching 
 for her.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 259 
 
 " What are you about, Jessie ? " he asked com- 
 ing suddenly upon her in the midst of a long, deep 
 reverie, during which Tiny had absolutely fallen 
 asleep, with her head upon her lap ; " what busi- 
 ness have you to creep away by yourself here ? I 
 expected you to do the honours, as if you were my 
 daughter, which, you know, you are to be ; and 
 here — ^' 
 
 '^ Oh, do not say that, if you please, dear Cap- 
 tain Burford \" said Jessie, feeling much inclined 
 to burst into tears, but restraining herself with a 
 violent effort: ^^I should be so much obliged if 
 you would not say that again. You must not, 
 indeed you must not." 
 
 " The dickens is in the young people, I think," 
 said the Captain, violently stirring the fire, and 
 arousing Tiny by so doing : " here's Nelson, with 
 his face as long as my arm, seriously advising me 
 not to say those kind of things; and now you 
 come, like a tragedy queen, and *^if you please' 
 me, and ' dear' me, and beg me not to do the very 
 thing I like best, and to talk about what has been 
 settled four- and- twenty years. I tell you what it 
 is. Miss, I will talk about it if I like, and have it 
 done, in spite of — " 
 
 "Hush! if you please; do — do not, — here is 
 Nelson," interrupted Jessie, with a voice of alarm.
 
 260 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "The deuce take Nelson and aU such fools !'^ 
 said the Captain heartily. 
 
 Nelson evidently heard his father^ s affectionate 
 consignment of him to that enigma " the Deuce/^ 
 for he looked confused ; still he fulfilled his pur- 
 pose. 
 
 "Will you dance the last country dance with 
 me, Jessie ?" he said : " we have not danced to- 
 gether tonight.^^ 
 
 " More shame for you to say so, under the cir- 
 cumstances/' said the, Captain angrily. 
 
 Jessie hastily put her arm into Nelson's, and 
 walked away. 
 
 "Come, little one, you must dance with me,'' 
 said the good-natured Captain, bearing off Tiny. 
 
 Jessie found the dance formed : Anna was danc- 
 ing with Mr. Michelson, to the chagrin of Chatham 
 and Aunt Betsey, who, by some strange chance, 
 had fallen together. Pynsent and Louisa Colville 
 looked the merriest of our friends, as they stood 
 vis-a-vis ; but as for Nelson and Jessie they had 
 not a word to say to one another. The former felt 
 that his father had been talking of him in connec- 
 tion with a subject which of all others he dreaded 
 to have named to Jessie ; and the latter now knew, 
 to her sorrow, that he disliked its being mentioned. 
 They were no longer the happy, blushing, innocent
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 261 
 
 children^ affianced like a second Paul and Virginia, 
 but the young man and woman, modelled by the 
 world, and changed by the magic wand of passion 
 and shame; and one short week had sufficed to 
 effect all this. 
 
 Dances, and all the cross purposes they invari- 
 ably bring about, must, like everything else, have 
 an end. Captain Burford^s had been a very merry 
 one, and many a flushed face was laid upon the 
 pillow that night that would gladly have flushed 
 on a similar party on the morrow. Various were 
 the opinions broached in the covered car as it rolled 
 merrily towards Fairfield. 
 
 The following morning came a note to Miss 
 Colville from Lady Mansford, inviting her to pay 
 her a visit at Mansford Park, and begging her to 
 convey an invitation to the Miss Burtons to ac- 
 company her. She proposed sending her carriage 
 for them the following week, and hoped nothing 
 would prevent their accepting her invitation, as 
 she was very anxious to make their acquaintance. 
 
 " I would rather not go," said Louisa Colville. 
 
 " Oh, I should like it of all things !" exclaimed 
 Anna. 
 
 " You, my dear !" said Aunt Betsey ; " what, 
 visit a person who has almost cut your whole 
 family for years V
 
 262 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "Oh, that is over and gone, Aunty. Besides, 
 she has been so kind in writing to Lady Georgiana 
 Meredith about me, that I am sure we ought not 
 to think of old times." 
 
 "That is all her pride,'^ said Aunt Betsey; "she 
 is very glad to patronize us Burtons." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure Lady Mansford is not proud," 
 said Anna. 
 
 " Well," interposed Pynsent, " save me from 
 visiting people who think themselves above me, 
 and that they are conferring a great favour by in- 
 viting me. I would rather go and spend a week 
 with our old Lizzy Durman ; I should feel at home 
 there. What do you say, Jessie ?" 
 
 "That there is at least as much pride in your 
 view of the matter as in Lady Mansford^ s, sup- 
 posing her to be a proud woman, which seems 
 doubtful." 
 
 " And* are you going to accept her invitation ?" 
 asked Pynsent, with a look of horror. 
 
 " Certainly not," said Jessie, " but I hope 
 Louisa will : it would be very pleasant for her to 
 become acquainted with some of her mammals 
 friends before she goes to India." 
 
 " I would rather not go, and would not go alone 
 for the world," said Louisa. 
 
 "I will go with you," said Anna; "I should
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 263 
 
 like it so much. Aunty, don^t look cross ; I am 
 sure you will be glad for me to amuse myself as 
 long as I can V and she threw her arms coaxingly 
 about Aunt Betsey^s neck, who was always gained 
 over by her niece^s entreaties. 
 
 '^ I always thought you the proudest girl in the 
 world until now," said Pynsent : " ^ how are the 
 mighty fallen V " 
 
 " Uncle Timothy," exclaimed Anna_, slipping 
 round to her uncle, who was reading the news- 
 paper by the fire, and putting her face between 
 the paper and his face, '^ do you think there is any 
 want of pride in my going to visit Lady Mans- 
 ford ?" » 
 
 ^^ Really, my dear, I do not understand those 
 things. Please yourself, and, provided you do no- 
 thing wrong, you will please me. What does 
 Niece Jessie think ?" 
 
 " It is so much a matter of taste. Uncle," said 
 Jessie : '' T should not like to go myself, but, as 
 Louisa does not like going alone, and Anna wishes 
 it—" 
 
 ^^ Just so, my dear ; you are always right. If 
 Miss Colville goes_, I think Anna should go. Lady 
 Mansford has been kind in interesting herself 
 about Anna, and she must not show any incivility 
 in return."
 
 264 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Anna gave her uncle a kiss_, and looked tri- 
 umphantly at Pynsent, then said, turning to 
 Louisa — • 
 
 " It rests with you, Louisa ; and the messenger 
 waits for an answer. Will you come upstairs? 
 and we will concoct one." 
 
 "Do you really think I ought to go, Jessie?" 
 asked Louisa : " it will be a great bore." 
 
 '^ Perhaps your mamma might wish it, as you 
 are so near Lady Mansford: it would seem un- 
 natural to refuse." 
 
 " What am I to say for you ?" 
 
 " That I am very much obliged, but too much 
 engaged to accept her invitation." 
 
 The two friends left the room. 
 
 " Anna will be ruined," said Pynsent, " by all 
 the admiration and flattery she is sure to get. 
 Depend upon it, every ball and party she goes to 
 will unfit her more and more for the situation she 
 will fill." 
 
 " But, my dear nephew, she is so young," said 
 Uncle Timothy deprecatingly. 
 
 " If she is old enough to be a governess, she is 
 old enough to act prudently," said Pynsent, and 
 left the room. 
 
 " There is a great deal of common sense in what 
 Pynsent remarked," said Uncle Timothy ; " he is
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 265 
 
 really wonderfully clever and discriminating for 
 such a youth ; and as to his profession^ I would 
 trust him in cases where I would not trust many 
 an older practitioner." 
 
 "He would not like to hear you call him a 
 youth/^ said Jessie, laughing -, " he is nearly three- 
 and-twenty." 
 
 "He is very steady -and good,," said Uncle 
 Timothy; "I had a long conversation with him 
 yesterday upon his future prospects ; and although 
 I offered him a share in my practice_, as my assis- 
 tant^ he determined to remain in the country on 
 your account." 
 
 "He is the best and kindest brother in the 
 world," said Jessie; "but I know how much he 
 longs to live in London, so I hope he will not re- 
 fuse your kind offer." 
 
 "He seems quite to have made up his mind, 
 and such a sacrifice is likely to be of more moral 
 service to him than all the reputation he might 
 gain in London in the next fifty years. Besides, 
 there is a good opening here ; and he says he can 
 help you about the farm at the same time. Charles 
 has quite made up his mind to exert himself to 
 get well, and to come to me immediately." 
 
 " My dear Uncle," said Charles, who was much 
 better since he had begun to strive against his 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 weakness^ '^ it is really too much to impose upon 
 your kindness and generosity." 
 
 " Not mine^ Nephew Charles ; you know Brother 
 James has determined that you shall not be a 
 farmer, because he declares that you would be his 
 ruin as well as your own ; so he means to pay for 
 your apprenticeship to the arts, and you are only 
 to live with me. Mr. Michelson told him that, 
 when you had studied in England, he would put 
 you in the way of getting to Italy." 
 
 "I ought to be thankful to the fever," said 
 Charles, " for bringing about my wishes : ' out of 
 evil springeth good.^ " 
 
 " I trust it may prove good, my dear boy. There 
 is no doubt that whatever happens to those who 
 earnestly strive to do their duty, and who trust to 
 the Almighty for guidance, is ordered by Him for 
 their eventual good. The most cloudy sky has a 
 sun beneath it, and the rainbow springs out of 
 unpromising moisture." 
 
 " Uncle Timothy guilty of similes !" said Anna, 
 entering the room with a note in her hand. " I 
 always thought you had a poetical turn. How I 
 used to long for you when I had to write those 
 horrid themes at school ! I used to get on tolerably 
 till I came to the simile, and then I was obliged 
 to make Louisa help me : she has such a turn
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 267 
 
 for poetry. Here is the note, signed and sealed. 
 I am so glad Pynsent is gone : he is so cross.^' 
 
 "And have you quite decided upon going ?^' 
 asked Jessie. 
 
 " Yes, quite. Louisa thinks, with you, that she 
 ought to go, and she does not mind it, if I accom- 
 pany her. I shall so like to know that charming 
 Lady Mansford. I hope you do not disapprove of 
 it, Jessie ?^^ 
 
 " I think it will be removing you out of your 
 proper sphere, and placing you in an uncertain 
 position," said Jessie. 
 
 " One would think we were born beggars, or 
 tradespeople at best," said Anna, with a toss of 
 her head. " I should like to know in what the 
 Mansfords are better than we are ?" 
 
 "In all that the world generally calls better," 
 said Jessie, — " in fortune, rank, position, and edu- 
 cation." 
 
 " Not the last however, thanks to Uncle Timo- 
 thy," said Anna, " and I am sure our family is as 
 good as theirs." 
 
 " I should think so,". said Aunt Betsey, drawing 
 herself up ; "I remember the time when my 
 grandfather and Sir Thomas Mansford^ s grand- 
 father were like brothers. But nobody thinks of 
 anythi g but money nowadays." 
 
 n2
 
 268 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " ^ Riches make to themselves wings and flee 
 away/ '^ said Uncle Timothy ; " and as to family, 
 we are all children of one common Parent. Our 
 position is that in which God has placed us, and 
 superiority in it is a mere matter of opinion. In 
 reality, he who does his duty best holds the high- 
 est rank.^^ 
 
 " Oh, my dear Sir V said Aunt Betsey, " you 
 must admit there are great differences.^' 
 
 "Indeed I do. Madam. I see half the world 
 striving after things that are of no value, and 
 pluming themselves upon what they must shortly 
 leave behind them ; and the greater portion of the 
 other half living in idleness and folly : the smallest 
 part, I am sorry to say, is that made up of rational 
 human beings, who are content ^ to do their duty 
 in that state of life in which Providence has placed 
 them.' '' 
 
 "How well you remember your Catechism, 
 Uncle !'' said Anna. 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, my dear ; I hope you 
 will remember it also, and do what it tells you." 
 
 " You are all so prosy this morning,'' said Anna. 
 " Oh ! don't sigh and shake your head, darling Jes- 
 sie : I know what it means. I will be very good 
 and steady by-and-by, you shall see."
 
 269 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " There is no life on earth, but being in love ; 
 There are no studies, no delights, no business, 
 No intercourse, or trade of sense, or soul, 
 But what is love ! I was the laziest creature, 
 The most unprofitable sign of nothing, 
 The veriest drone, and slept away my life 
 Beyond the dormouse, till I was in love." 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 To the great sorrow of everybody, Uncle Timothy 
 was obliged to leave on Friday. He consented to 
 Tiny's remaining at Fairfield as long as Miss Col- 
 ville did, as she was already looking all the better 
 for her visit, and beginning to feel at home. She 
 was a shy little dove, but she nestled warmly in 
 Jessicas gentle bosom, and began to love her and 
 Charles very much indeed. Uncle Timothy told 
 Jessie that when he was quite superannuated he 
 meant to come and end his days with her at Fair- 
 field; "When all the rest are married, my dear, 
 and you are in want of a companion,^' he said. 
 Even Uncle Timothy fell into the general notion
 
 270 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 that Jessie would never marry, although she was 
 a most comely maiden, and, as he well kne^v, 
 would make the best wife in the world. But he 
 could not imagine Fairfield without Jessie. Cap- 
 tain Burford alone remained firm in his resolution, 
 that she should marry his Nelson, whether she 
 would or no : after four-and-twenty years of ex- 
 pectation, he was not going to be disappointed. 
 
 Uncle Timothy took his departure, and the two 
 young ladies went to Lady Mansford^s, leaving 
 Tiny, in addition to the family party, at home. She 
 and Jessie went about together, feeding poultry, and 
 doing all kinds of useful matters, which delighted 
 her greatly, whilst Aunt Betsey knitted, and Pyn- 
 sent and Charles pursued their avocations. The 
 former took a surgery in the town, and set about 
 furnishing it with medicines, bottles, and pill- boxes. 
 His friend and former master was thinking of 
 shortly retiring from the profession, and promised 
 to make Pynsent his successor ; meanwhile he \tas 
 to struggle for himself. He injtended residing, or 
 rather sleeping, at Fairfield, and practising in the 
 town. This he knew was not so good a plan as to 
 have a residence in the town, but he resolved to do 
 it on Jessie's account, who, he foresaw, would be 
 lonely when they were all gone to their different 
 destinations.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 271 
 
 Lady Mansford received her young guests very 
 kindly. Anna was enchanted with her, and Louisa 
 liked her very well. Sir Thomas was a tall, stiff, 
 aristocratic man, with manners as unbending as 
 his person, whilst his wife was the most voluble 
 and agreeable of women. She suited him very 
 well, because he disliked talking, and she had not 
 the least objection to doing double duty. 
 
 As Mr. Michelson was a neighbour of the Mans- 
 fords, they were on very intimate terms, and Chat- 
 ham had the entree of Mansford Park whenever he 
 liked. The sly-boots Anna knew that well, or the 
 pride of which Pynsent spoke so warmly would 
 undoubtedly have prevented her from visiting Lady 
 Mansford. Both Mr. Michelson and his son dined 
 at the Park almost daily, and, indeed, passed a 
 portion of most mornings there during the visit of 
 om- young damsels. Miss Erskine was also there, 
 and very evidently not averse to the handsome 
 Chatham Michelson, intended for her husband by 
 her friend Lady Mansford, and his father. There 
 was a great deal of fun and gaiety going on in an 
 electioneering way, as Sir Thomas Mansford was 
 one of Mr. Michelson' s staunchest supporters ; and 
 political subjects brought together a great many 
 agreeable gentlemen, young and old, who were 
 most pleasant additions to the party at Mansford 
 Park.
 
 272 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Amongst these, it is scarcely necessary to say, 
 Annans beauty and fascination soon became a topic 
 of conversation, and of general admiration. Even 
 Sir Thomas Mansford waxed eloquent in her praise 
 and grew gallant when she was near. She dis- 
 persed her smiles and her musical laughter amongst 
 them, as equally, and as unaffectedly, as the most 
 finished coquette could have done ; and if she gave 
 a brighter glance to Chatham, or a more friendly 
 smile to Nelson, when he dined at the Park, nobody 
 but the parties concerned knew anything about it. 
 It was no wonder that Nelson and Chatham had 
 both almost fallen in love with her at first sight, 
 for everybody else did the same. Old and young, 
 married and single — I may almost say, male and 
 female — were captivated by the "Fairy of Fairfield,^^ 
 as Mr. Michelson had christened her. A fairy and 
 enchantress, a wild little magician and ogress she 
 undoubtedly was, and her wand was beauty, her in- 
 cantations were her charms, — her poisons, winning, 
 mirthful words. The " true blue^^ rosettes and 
 bows she was making for Mr. Michelson^s party 
 were seized upon with ardour by his voters, and 
 called the " Anna Burtons" by the wearers, who 
 professed to know them at a glance from those 
 made by any other young lady. She had white 
 and red camellias for her hair, and bouquets of all
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 273 
 
 kinds and colours showered upon her, as if she were 
 some successful actress; and a successful actress 
 she certainly was — a perfect Jenny Lind, in the 
 simplicity and grace of her performance : for_, whe- 
 ther the effect of pure nature or consummate art_, 
 everybody acknowledged that her want of affecta- 
 tion was her greatest charm. Her movements^ her 
 conversation, her very pride were all spontaneous 
 and unstudied. Had she had more self-control, 
 more restraint of manner, she would have been 
 happier and better, but not one tithe so much ad- 
 mired. Her very faults found favour under cover 
 of her perfections. 
 
 To have gained so much of admiration, Anna 
 Burton must have outstaid her intended time at 
 Mansford Park, it will be imagined. She did so. 
 Frdm day to day excuses were made to detain her 
 and Louisa ; and, rather to the dislike of the latter, 
 were accepted. Anna ruled Louisa entirely, and 
 had but to express a wish to have it gratified. 
 
 During this period, letters were passing between 
 Lady Mansford and Lady Georgiana Meredith, 
 concerning Anna. Lady Georgiana had written to 
 Miss Primmerton, and received a faithful catalogue 
 of her several accomplishments and deserts ; rather 
 heightened by Miss Primmerton' s desire to do her 
 a service. This, together with Lady Mansford's 
 
 N 3
 
 274 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 favourable mention of her^ induced Lady Georgiana 
 to enter into a correspondence with Anna^ which 
 tinally ended in her engaging her to become her 
 governess. Anna liked the tone of Lady Geor- 
 giana's letters, because they were written in a 
 lady-like style, and so did Jessie, to whom they 
 were sent. She evidently did not expect to meet 
 with perfection in a governess or universal accom- 
 plishments. Anna wrote in such a humble, simple 
 manner, that Lady Georgiana expressed herself 
 much pleased with her letter, and engaged her at a 
 salary of eighty guineas a year, to be increased, if 
 she remained any length of time with them, to a 
 hundred. 
 
 Everybody thought that Lady Georgiana was 
 very liberal ; and so, according to general practice 
 and opinion, she was. But she was a gentlewofeian 
 and very well off, and she knew that to ensure a 
 good education for her children, she must pay for 
 it, therefore she did not even think of offering less. 
 Moreover she said to herself, "The labourer is 
 worthy of his hire,^^ and it must be pleasanter to 
 wear away young life and health and feelings in the 
 arduous task of tuition, when liberally remunerated 
 and kindly treated, that when grudgingly paid 
 some twenty or thirty pounds a year, and con- 
 demned to solitude and incivilitv therewith.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 275 
 
 I am sorry to say^ that instead of examining her 
 mind^ testing her acquirements, and subduing her 
 pride, with a view to filling an important but sub- 
 ordinate position in life, Anna passed the short in- 
 terval of holiday that remained to her in fostering an 
 attachment that had begun in vanity, for Chatham 
 Michelson. As she never did anything by halves, 
 of course she was oceans-deep in love. She did 
 not ask herself whether he were suited to her in 
 rank, fortune, temper, or character, — she only saw in 
 him a handsome, fascinating, accomplished officer, 
 the very man she had determined to marry ever 
 since she was a child. She could not help knowing 
 that if she liked him, he liked her twenty times as 
 much; so, almost in accepting Lady Georgiana^s 
 offer, she congratulated herself upon the probability 
 of her making that lady^s acquaintance in the 
 position of her niece, rather than h^^r governess. 
 Jessie wrote to urge her to come home, that she 
 might prepare her wardrobe for her change of situa- 
 tion ; but the spoilt pet returned such florid descrip- 
 tions of her enjoyment, and such melancholy hints 
 at the change she should soon have to endure, that 
 Jessie could urge it no longer, however much she 
 might feel the want of sisterly affection in Annans 
 absenting herself from home during those last few 
 weeks.
 
 276 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Everybody was made anxious and unhappy 
 through that unlucky beauty Avith which nature 
 had endowed Anna ; and, to tell the truth, she was 
 not perfectly at ease herself, although she did feel 
 convinced that she was treated like some divinity of 
 another clime by a whole band of admirers. She 
 knew that Jessie was distressed at her not retum- 
 uig ; that Pynsent was annoyed at her being where 
 she was ; and that Aunt Betsey's pride was irritated 
 on her account, still she could not prevail upon 
 herself to quit the gay scenes she was in, for the 
 dull happiness of Fairfield. Besides, there was to 
 be an election ball, and Mr. Michelson, as its donor, 
 was determined that the two belles should be there, 
 and Lady Mansford was quite as much determined 
 to chaperon them. True, Jessie by note set her 
 face against Anna's going; but Jessie not being 
 present to support her note, her influence faded 
 loefore the united Mansford and Michelson interest, 
 backed by that of a score of beaux. 
 
 The ball dress was the greatest difficulty. Anna 
 had no money, and she did not like to name the 
 subject to Jessie, because she knew that she could 
 not afibrd her one, however simple. Uncle Timothy 
 had told her to write to him before she left home 
 for any additions to her wardrobe; or rather to 
 write to her dressmaker, Madlle. Fourbillon, for
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 277 
 
 such clothes as she could procure better from her 
 than in the country. Should she write for the sim- 
 plest of ball dresses, instead of anything else ? It 
 would not be quite what Uncle Timothy meant, 
 but he would not mind it. She would write to him 
 by the same post, and explain how matters stood. 
 
 She did so. In reply to her letter to Madlle. 
 Fourbilloncame the most simple and elegant of white 
 dresses, looped up with gentianellas, and a wreath 
 of that flower for her hair. In reply to the one 
 she wrote to Uncle Timothy, arrived a very gentle 
 reproach, the first she had ever had from him, and 
 therefore very keenly felt. He said that he had 
 not included ball dresses in his list of clothes ne- 
 cessary for her outfit ; neither did he think that she 
 would find ball-going a good preparation for the 
 life of study and retirement that lay before her. 
 She was right welcome to the dress, but he feared 
 it would be of little real service to her. 
 
 When Anna read the note, she resolved, in a 
 moment, to return the dress to its maker, and to 
 write to Uncle Timothy. 
 
 '^ Then he will have to pay the carriage back in 
 addition to the dress," suggested Louisa ; " for of 
 course Madlle. Fourbillon cannot be expected to 
 take it back, and it will be useless to your uncle." 
 
 Anna was posed.
 
 278 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 "■ I hate the dress now, and the ball and every- 
 thing to do with it/^ she said ; '' I would not have 
 offended Uncle Timothy for the world." 
 
 "But you have promised to go to the ball, and 
 Lady Mansford knows that the dress has come, 
 so what choice have you ?" said Louisa. And ac- 
 cordingly to the ball she went. 
 
 Michelson Hall was magnificently lighted up 
 and adorned for the occasion. Guests of almost 
 all ranks were present, promised supporters of Mr. 
 Michelson. Amongst them were the officers of a 
 regiment quartered in a not very distant town, 
 who, together with Chatham and Nelson, were in 
 regimentals. This added greatly to the gaiety of 
 the scene, in the eyes of the young ladies at least, 
 and the question was, "Who will dance with the 
 officers?" as is usual in such cases; whilst their 
 question was, " Is there anybody worth dancing 
 with?" 
 
 Most of them found Anna well worth dancing 
 with, if one could judge from the succession of 
 military partners she found herself engaged to 
 during the night. Louisa Colville also had her 
 share of red-coats ; but she was by nature rather 
 shy and stiff with strangers, so did not get on so 
 well as her more sparkling friend ; moreover she 
 vas glancing so frequently at the door, as if she
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 279 
 
 were expecting an arrival^ that she was inattentive 
 to the conversation of her partners. 
 
 Mr. Michelson complimented Anna on her dress, 
 and expressed himself flattered by her having so 
 tastefully adopted his colour. 
 
 ^'^I am disappointed/^ he said, "that none of 
 your family accompanied you tonight. Surely it 
 is time to let bygones be bygones now." 
 
 Anna looked confused. Mr. Michelson led her 
 into a small refreshment room, upon pretence of 
 offering her some lemonade. The room was empty, 
 for dancing was going on. He begged her to sit 
 down, and placed himself beside her. 
 
 '' Do you think," he said, " that old differences 
 could not be patched up between us ? I have heard 
 of family quarrels being put an end to by a mar- 
 riage : what if we could so manage ours ?" 
 
 Annans heart beat quick ; she thought of Chat- 
 ham. Could it be? Could Mr. Michelson be 
 about to probe her feelings for his son? She 
 looked eagerly into his face. Oh, the beauty, the 
 fascination of that look ! Mr. Michelson felt it, 
 and returned it with one so admiring that Anna's 
 eyes fell beneath it. 
 
 " Now, little Anna," he said, with a tender, 
 pleading voice, that he knew well how to assume, 
 " I must tell you a secret. Ever since I saw you
 
 280 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 first_, a child, at a dance, at Captain Burford^s, I 
 took a great fancy to you. I foresaw that you 
 would be a beauty, and that if you fulfilled your 
 promise, you would be a wife for a prince. I have 
 seen and watched you narrowly for the last three 
 weeks, and my admiration has strengthened, and 
 I have resolved to make you my wife. Shall we 
 just write an affectionate note to my sister-in-law, 
 and tell her we have changed our plans ? Will not 
 it be much pleasanter to be mistress of Michelson 
 Hall, than to be a governess ? and to rule and in- 
 struct me, rather than my nieces? We will do 
 our best to soften Aunt Betsey ; she is a very tine 
 woman, but did not exactly suit me; and as to 
 brothers and sister and guardians, they will readily 
 consent, I am sure.^^ 
 
 Mr. Michelson paused, and attempted to take 
 the " Fairy^s^' hand, but scarcely conscious of what 
 she did, she withdrew it. She could scarcely be- 
 lieve that she was Annabella Burton, and that the 
 magnificent Mr. Michelson, and his ten thousand 
 a year, were at her feet. She rose, burning with 
 passion and anger, instead of gratitude. Had he 
 worded his proposal differently, she might have felt 
 at least grateful ; but as it was, not even all the 
 splendour of the mansion, its paintings, conserva- 
 tories, and various beauties, which to an ambitious
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION, 281 
 
 maiden always possess charms, could do away with 
 the indignation she felt. 
 
 ''And do yon think, Mr. Michelson," she said, 
 standing before him and speaking rapidly, "that 
 I am a slave, to be bought and sold at will ? Are 
 the Burtons fallen so low that one of the daughters 
 of their house shall be wedded even without being 
 wooed, because riches and position are held out to 
 her ? Do you think me a baby, that you teU me 
 you will condescend to marry me, even before you 
 have asked me ? Do you suppose, that because 
 circumstances compel me to become a governess, 
 that I am to lose my self-respect, my womanly 
 feelings, my very right of choice, and to marry the 
 first man who asks me, even though he be older 
 than my own father was ! You might have known 
 women better, had you studied them, than to ima- 
 gine them so mercenary — so base. At least you 
 should have known a Burton better. Pride, peo- 
 ple say, is our characteristic and our bane : for 
 once, at least, it shall be our safeguard. To insult 
 me in your own house ! I will leave it at once, 
 even if I walk home." 
 
 Hitherto Mr. Michelson had listened in perfect 
 astonishment. He felt alternately annoyed, in- 
 sulted, angered, and amused, at the way in which 
 his proposal was received. The hint at his being
 
 282 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 older than her father had been the most galling ; 
 but when she spoke of leaving at once^ fear over- 
 powered every other feeling. He knew what the 
 world would say if she did so. 
 
 Swallowing his passion^ as best he mighty he 
 said — 
 
 ^^ You are the best judge, Miss Annabella, of the 
 propriety of what you have said ; but one thing I 
 beg to insist upon. You cannot leave my house 
 until Lady Mansford does, or you will cause an 
 unnecessary gossip in the neighbourhood. I sup- 
 pose no young lady is anxious for that kind of 
 eclat. Of the rest we may be able to talk again 
 when you are calmer, and have thought over all 
 the advantages of my proposal ; but I consider that 
 if any one has been insulted in this house, it is I.^' 
 
 Anna did not condescend to reply to this speech, 
 but with the grace and dignity of a Cleopatra she 
 turned away and left the room. Scarcely had she 
 reached Lady Mansford and Louisa, who were 
 looking for her, than simultaneously Chatham 
 Michelson and Nelson came up, and asked her to 
 dance the next dance with them. Not well know- 
 ing what she did, or who was before her, she made 
 a kind of movement of acquiescence, and put her 
 hand on Chatham^s arm, who led her towards the 
 quadrille that was forming. Nelson looked hurt
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 283 
 
 and ruffled^ and soon after Louisa, who had watched 
 the proceeding narrowly, saw him leave the room. 
 He did not return again. 
 
 "What is the matter ?^^ asked Chatham, when 
 he remarked Annans agitated manner and flushed 
 face. "Has any one annoyed you? I am sure 
 something must have happened. You left the 
 room with my father. Where is he ? Oh, there ! 
 just coming in. He looks as if he had been in a 
 passion; I always know when he is irritated, by 
 the large vein in his forehead. Has anything oc- 
 curred between him and one of the servants in 
 your presence ? '' 
 
 "Nothing,^^ said Anna, rousing herself; "but 
 the heat is so great, and I have danced so much, 
 that I feel rather tired. Is Lady Mansford likely 
 to go home soon ? ^^ ~^ 
 
 "I hope not,^^ said Chatham. "I am afraid 
 you have not enjoyed yourself; still you ought to 
 have done so, for surely you have been of all others 
 
 ' The cynosure of neighbouring eyes.' " 
 
 Anna got through the quadrille with some diffi- 
 culty, scarcely replying to Chatham^ s various ques- 
 tions and remarks upon her abstraction. She 
 would have given much to have gone home, but 
 she knew that there was truth and propriety in 
 what ^Ir. Michelson had said, and she had just 
 self-command enough to walk through the dance.
 
 284 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 The fact was, that she was in a real, downright 
 passion. 
 
 " I do not think you are well — you look so 
 flushed/' said Chatham. " Shall I ask Lady 
 Mansford to allow you to be sent home ? The car- 
 riage can return for the rest of the party." 
 
 " No, I thank you ; I would rather remain." 
 For a moment she felt stiff even towards Chatham, 
 as if everybody connected with Mr. Michelson were 
 odious to her. 
 
 '^Have I offended you?" asked Chatham, anxi- 
 ously. 
 
 " No," was the brief reply. 
 
 '' Has any one offended you?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 '^ When do you return home ? " 
 
 "Tomorrow, decidedly." 
 
 "When are you going to Plas Ayron?" 
 
 " In about a week or ten days, I believe." 
 
 " The election is the day after tomorrow, and the 
 following day I am to join my regiment." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Anna, feeling a sharp pain at her 
 heart. 
 
 "Will you allow me to call on you tomorrow 
 afternoon?" 
 
 " Certainly, if you feel inclined." 
 
 " Will your brother be displeased ? He has 
 never invited me to Fairfield."
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 285 
 
 " I do not know : but I scarcely think he will 
 be at home." 
 
 " Can I hope for a private interview with you?" 
 
 " It is impossible for me to say." 
 
 Another thrill through the throbbing heart, but 
 no visible emotion, save that of haughty, defiant 
 pride. 
 
 '^ I cannot conceive how I can have displeased 
 you." 
 
 " I am not aware that you have displeased me." 
 
 This brief conversation, carried on during the 
 pauses in the quadrille, partially restored Anna to 
 her self-possession. She saw what Chatham must 
 want with her, and a thousand real and visionary 
 hopes and fears crowded through her niind. She 
 felt that she ought to say something, but knew not 
 how to begin. At last, with a great effort, and the 
 same hauteur , she said — 
 
 " I do not know whether Pynsent was too proud 
 to ask you to Fairfield, Captain Michelson ; but 
 your father has evidently been too proud to bring 
 you there. He probably would not like you to 
 visit us." 
 
 " I do not ask my father whom I am to visit," 
 
 said Chatham, colouring in his turn ; "1 am old 
 
 enough now to go where I Hke, even if I cannot 
 
 return when I like. I will call on you tomorrow." 
 
 Here the final graceful glides and slides of the
 
 386 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 quadrille brought to a conclusion a conversation 
 in which much of the happiness or misery of two 
 human beings was involved. 
 
 Shortly after Lady Mansford ordered the car- 
 riage. Mr. Michelson and Chatham were in atten- 
 dance, but Anna contrived to secure Sir Thomas's 
 arm, and thus left Mr. Michelson to Lady Mans- 
 ford, and Chatham to the two young ladies. As 
 they got into the carriage she made Mr. Michelson 
 a haughty bow, which he returned with a look so 
 full of anger that, for the first time, she feared him. 
 No one could have believed that the agreeable, gen- 
 tlemanlike, clever Mr. Michelson, whose suavity of 
 manner was so remarkable that some of his foreign 
 friends called him le suave, could have worn such a 
 frown on his broad, open forehead; or darted such 
 a glance from his large, bold blue eye. But to 
 know Mr. Michelson, as well as many other charm- 
 ing people, we must try to catch him at home. For- 
 tunately for him, for his son, and for his servants, 
 he is scarcely ever at home : the world being his 
 home, and he constantly in a new corner of it, he 
 is rarely to be found in private life. Tomorrow 
 however, when he must be at home for a few hours 
 at least, we will again look in upon him, and see 
 whether we can find out his true character beneath 
 that most perfect suavity which he wears, as — 
 " The head and front of liis oflfending."
 
 287 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Ye gallants bright, I rede you right, 
 
 Beware o' bonnie Ann ; 
 Her comely face sae fa' o' grace, 
 
 Your heart she will trepan. 
 Her een sae bright, hke stars by ni J'ht, 
 
 Her skin is like the swan ; 
 Sae simply laced her genty waist, 
 
 That sweetly ye might span." — Btjens. 
 
 The breakfast at Miclielson Hall was late the 
 following morning, and yet Mr. Miclielson sat at 
 tlie table alone. He appeared to bave finished, 
 and to be waiting, not very patiently, for the 
 appearance of a companion. He looked gloomy 
 and angry ; and although he had the Somersetshire 
 paper open before him, and professed to be reading 
 the opinions of the press upon the forthcoming 
 election, he could scarcely have told any one what 
 those opinions were. At last he got up and rang 
 the bell. The footman answered it. 
 
 " Tell Captain Michelson that I have finished 
 breakfast, and am waiting to see him before I go 
 out. Say that T have not a moment to lose, as
 
 288 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 I must be off immediately/' Mr. Michelson fidget- 
 ed about for nearly a quarter of an hour^ walked 
 up and down the room, looked out of the window, 
 resumed the paper, muttered some inaudible sen- 
 tences, and finally rang the bell again. 
 
 " Did you give my message to Captain Michel- 
 son ?'' he said to the footman. 
 
 " Yes, Sir ; he said that he would come as soon 
 as he was dressed.^' 
 
 Chatham entered, as if the second bell had sum- 
 moned him as well as the servant : it certainly was 
 a most imperative pull. He sat down to breakfast 
 with as much nonchalance as he could assume, and 
 began to pour out his coffee. 
 
 ^'1 wanted to see you, Chatham, before I go 
 away," began Mr. Michelson. 
 
 "Very well, Sir, the carriage is waiting," said 
 Chatham. 
 
 " I believe you are to rejoin your regiment the 
 day after tomorrow ?" said his father. 
 
 "Yes; I just wait for the election, and that is 
 all." 
 
 " Did you make any progress last night in the 
 affair that you know I am so anxious about ?" Mr. 
 Michelson made this inquiry as gently as he could. 
 
 " What affair do you mean ?" asked Chatham 
 with assumed indifference.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCIx\ATION. 289 
 
 "That of proposing for Miss Erskine. I am 
 sure you would not be refused^ and there is ro 
 time to lose, as you must leave so soon : you may 
 see her again today, and certainly will tomorrow/' 
 
 " I am not aware that I made any progress/' 
 said Chatham. 
 
 '' No progress ! you mean, I suppose, that you 
 did not propose." 
 
 " I certainly did not." 
 
 The vein in Mr. Michelson's forehead began to 
 swell. 
 
 "I presume you mean to do so today. You 
 know she is worth about fifty or sixty thousand 
 pounds. Everybody expects that you will marry 
 her ; indeed your attentions — " 
 
 " My attentions ! Nobody can accuse me of 
 attentions, thank heaven ; I have been barely civil 
 to her." 
 
 Mr. Michelson's vein swelled larger. 
 
 " But you are aware. Sir, that I fully intend her 
 for you, and that I have hinted as much to Lady 
 Mansford. Such chances do not occur every day." 
 
 " I am sorry you should have mentioned your 
 intentions to Lady Mansford," said Chatham, feel- 
 ing indignant, "since they are not mine. I do 
 not mean to marry for money, and certainly am 
 not in love with Miss Erskine." 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " In love ! What nonsense you talk ! Who 
 marries for love nowadays? Fortune, rank, con- 
 venience, anything but love, which is a word that 
 ought to be rubbed out of the dictionary; it is 
 only fit for babies or fools." 
 
 " I suppose you married my mother for love ? " 
 said Chatham. 
 
 " If I did, I could afford it. But she had rank, 
 which I wanted, and, in bringing me a good con- 
 nection, brought a fair exchange for my money." 
 
 " That kind of bartering does not suit my no- 
 tions," said Chatham. 
 
 "What right have you to have notions, Sir, at 
 your age, and dependent for your very bread upon 
 your father ?" 
 
 ^^ Upon whom else should I depend ?" 
 
 " Upon yourself." 
 
 " How ? My profession will not support me, 
 and there is no chance of bettering myself by a 
 little timely fighting." 
 
 " Then marry Miss Erskine, and be your own 
 master." 
 
 " And let her support me ? I would rather beg 
 than be kept by my wife." 
 
 '^ Why not as well be kept by your wife as by 
 your father?" 
 
 '^ Surely nature gives us a strong claim on a
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 291 
 
 father, whereas the law alone can make a wife^s 
 possessions ours/^ 
 
 " Pshaw ! I suppose if Nature teaches yon to 
 fall in love and marry, she teaches yon to share 
 your wife^s fortune/'' 
 
 "But I am not in love, at least not with Miss 
 Erskine, and therefore do not intend to marry 
 her/^ 
 
 " And pray who may you be in love with, if not 
 with MissErskine?'' 
 
 Here Mr. Michelson's vein swelled to its fullest 
 extent, and Chatham also grew red. 
 
 "I did not say I was in love with any one," 
 replied the latter. 
 
 " But I ask whether you are in love with any 
 one — the very expression makes me sick." 
 
 " Since you ask me. Father, I must say that I 
 am, and that mine is an attachment that neither 
 time nor circumstances can wear away." 
 
 " Oh, of course ; all ' attachments' are ever- 
 lasting. And pray who may be the object of your 
 attachment ? " 
 
 " One that you must yourself acknowledge 
 worthy of it : one whom I have often heard you 
 praise to the utmost extent of praise — Miss An- 
 nabella Burford, of Fairfield." 
 
 An expression of anger and passion so deep and 
 
 o 2
 
 292 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 fierce overspread Mr. Michelson^s whole counte- 
 nance, that his son was quite alarmed. He had 
 seen his father enraged frequently, but never had 
 witnessed such concentrated ire. It was a long 
 time before Mr. Michelson could sufficiently com- 
 mand his temper to speak, and when he did so, his 
 voice trembled, and he made repeated movements 
 of his hands towards his son, as if he would have 
 fallen upon him, but for mere decency^ s sake. 
 
 " Do you mean to insult me by telling me you 
 are in love with that girl ? '' he said ; '^ I tell you 
 what, Sir, I would see you starve before I w^ould 
 let you marry her. Dare to propose for her, dai'e 
 to marry her, and you may both beg your bread 
 before I would give you a farthing : I would with- 
 draw your allowance, and drive you for ever from 
 my house.^^ 
 
 Chatham was about to say that his father visited 
 the Burtons, and had actually recommended Anna- 
 bella to his aunt, but he saw that it was not then 
 the time to do so. He was awed, and feared to reply 
 in any way, either haughtily or humbly, to the 
 harsh words he had heard. He remembered that 
 the man before him, though degraded by fierce 
 passion to the brute, was still his father. Seeing 
 that he was working himself up to increased anger, 
 he merelv said —
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 293 
 
 ''Your carriage is waiting, and I have an en- 
 gagement ; perhaps we had better defer this topic 
 to another opportunity/' and left the room. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour he saw his father 
 drive off, called for his own horse, and rode towards 
 Fairfield. 
 
 Whilst he is on his way thither we will take 
 a peep at some of our other friends, who have also 
 risen to a late breakfast, and are in different ways 
 influenced by the unhappy beauty who has fallen, 
 like some stray planet, amongst them. 
 
 Captain Burford and Nelson are silent over the 
 ' Times ' and their coffee for a longer space than 
 usual, the Captain being rather inclined by nature 
 to loquacity; he looks, to use a vulgar expres- 
 sion, grumpy, and seems to wait for his son to say 
 something. The beautiful tortoise-shell cat, that 
 sits purring on his knee, is astonished that she 
 does not receive her usual allowance of toast and 
 butter, and finally mounts upon the table, with a 
 view to helping herself out of the cream -jug. 
 
 " Down, Pussy \" says Nelson, stroking her sleek 
 coat, and gently lifting her off the table. 
 
 " Well," begins the Captain, " I must be off for 
 this confounded voting. I wish there were no such 
 things as elections, or that they could be managed 
 differently."
 
 294 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " I do not tliink Mr. Michelson will succeed/^ 
 said Nelson. 
 
 " The deuce you donH ! and you suppose we 
 shall have a Whig member for Somerset ? Then 
 1^11 leave the county.^^ 
 
 " You had better accompany me upon my tour ; 
 it would do you a vast deal of good.^^ 
 
 " Tour ! where are you going so soon ? I should 
 have thought that you would be glad to spend the 
 first six months at home, at least.^^ 
 
 '^'^Why, Douglas intends returning to India 
 shortly, and he wishes me to pay him my visit 
 before he leaves home. I believe I must go now, 
 or not at all." 
 
 In the Captain^ s mind the following reflections 
 were passing : — 
 
 '^ Airs right ! By the time he comes back Anna 
 will be safe in Wales, and then he will be sure to 
 turn his thoughts to Jessie again. Besides, he 
 cannot care so much for Anna after all, or he 
 would not go away just before she is thinking of 
 leaving. Ay, all's right." The last " alPs right" 
 the Captain uttered aloud; and from the sudden 
 change- in his face and manner. Nelson perceived 
 that he was pleased, — at what, he could not imagine. 
 
 ^'You seem glad to get rid of me, my dear 
 father," said Nelson, feeling mortified.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 295 
 
 " No_, not exactly that/^ said the Captain, who 
 never yet knew what it was to conceal a thought, 
 much less an action ; ^^ but I have my reasons for 
 wishing you to go now, rather than by-and-by/^ 
 
 Nelson knew precisely what the reasons were, 
 and thought that they were not quite unlike his 
 own. He determined to go from home at once, 
 to avoid the fascinations of one who, he per- 
 ceived, did not care over-much for him; but he 
 had not any intention of returning to another. 
 Anna Burton, or single blessedness, for him ! He 
 might exist in solitary misery, but never wed any 
 one but her. How such a father could have such 
 a son is quite an enigma ; unless in this case, as in 
 others, extremes meet. Captain Burford was as 
 open as day. Nelson as secret as night. If the 
 former was glad or sorry, contented or discon- 
 tented, sick or well, rich or poor, pleased or dis- 
 pleased, everybody connected with him must par- 
 ticipate in his humour, and sympathize with him ; 
 whereas, if the latter were at the summit of his 
 earthly hopes, or in the depths of sublunary disap- 
 pointment, nobody knew it but himself. The only 
 confidant he had ever had was Jessie, and in her 
 he could no longer confide : why, he did not con- 
 fess even to himself. 
 
 '^ Father," he said, after a pause, ^'^ you will be
 
 296 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 SO good as to remember your promise of not attri- 
 buting any intention of getting married to me. I 
 assure you I do not mean to marry. In short, I 
 do not think it likely I shall ever marry. I am 
 bent on making glory my bride, and feel that the 
 longer I am absent from my professional duties 
 the more distant is my wedding-day." 
 
 " My dear son, you know my wishes ; and the 
 truth is, I caimot help expressing them. If I try 
 to keep them in at one corner of my mouth, they 
 are sure to burst out at the other; and dang my 
 buttons, Sir, as James Barnard says, if they shall 
 not be gratified in spite of you ! Not that I mean 
 to force your inclinations. You may marry glory 
 if you like; but take my word for it, the slut 
 Avill leave you a widower, and then you will come 
 back to you know who, but we never men- 
 tion names." 
 
 Here Captain Burford rose from the breakfast- 
 table, and went to prepare for his electioneering 
 matters, whilst Nelson remained awhile deep in 
 thought. Of course he was thinking of Anna : 
 young men never think of those whom their fa- 
 thers and mothers request them to think of. His 
 reflections were not agreeable. He thought of her 
 as a consummate little coquette, who was trying 
 to attract not only Mr. Michelson and Chatham,
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 297 
 
 but everybody else she came near ; and the worst 
 of the matter was^ she succeeded. 
 
 Whilst Nelson slowly rises to prepare to accom- 
 pany his father, we must look in upon another late 
 breakfast-table, and see in what state of mind the 
 cause of all this uneasiness finds herself. 
 
 Anna Burton looks somewhat pale and w^ary, 
 but excited. She is earnestly declaring to Sir 
 Thomas and Lady Mansford that she must return 
 home immediately after breakfast. 
 
 ^' But, my dear Miss Burton/^ says Lady Mans- 
 ford, " Sir Thomas is going to use the carriage, 
 and therefore you have no choice but to stay." 
 
 ^' Oh ! if he will only drive us to the turnpike, 
 we can easily walk the rest of the way ; or if you 
 will kindly tell the turnpike-gate keeper to send 
 to my sister, she will send at once for us. It is 
 really necessary that I should be at home now.'^ 
 
 " But why today?'' asked Lady Mansford; " it 
 is cruel to leave Miss Erskine and me alone. All 
 the gentlemen will be away." 
 
 " I am very sorry," stammered Anna, looking 
 imploringly at Louisa Colville, " but I do not feel 
 very well." 
 
 ^' Oh ! we will nurse you ; and tomorrow w^e 
 shall have a famous party, — all the beaux in the 
 country." 
 
 o3
 
 298 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " I think we really ought to go today, Lady 
 ]Mansford/^ said Louisa. " Miss Burton has wi'it- 
 ten so often to fix the day for our return, that we 
 must not put it off any longer.^^ 
 
 ^' I expected a supporter in you, Miss Colville/' 
 said Sir Thomas, " and you, too, are turned against 
 us. But if you are quite decided, all I can say is 
 that I am very sorry. To tell the truth, I am 
 going with Mr. Michelson this morning, and the 
 carriage is therefore at your service; only I hope 
 you will change your minds." 
 
 Anna shook her head, and said she w^as very 
 sorry, but she must go. 
 
 " Then I must wish you good-morning, as I am 
 to meet Michelson at the Lodge; I must not say 
 good-bye, but cm revoir" And Sir Thomas left the 
 breakfast-room, to go, like all the rest of our male 
 friends and acquaintances, to vote for Michelson. 
 
 No, not all. We must make one exception, and 
 travel to one more breakfast-table to make it. We 
 must go back some two or three hours, since a 
 Fairfield breakfast is punctually at eight o'clock, 
 and Jessie is always ready, and the tea made, a 
 quarter of an hour earlier. 
 
 Uncle James has ridden over at dawn, to talk 
 about the election ; and he, Pynsent, Charles, and 
 Tiny are assembled. They have always to wait
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 299 
 
 • 
 
 some minutes for Aunt Betsey, who cannot bring 
 herself to be quite punctual, particularly in the 
 winter. 
 
 "Why, Pynsent, I never knew you so stub- 
 born/' said Uncle James, holding his knife and 
 fork rather inelegantly on end, and letting a thin 
 slice of ham dangle on the prongs of the latter. 
 "What objection can a youth like you have to 
 vote with your uncle ? Besides, Mr. Michelson 
 has been so kind to you." 
 
 " That is the worst part of it," replied Pynsent ; 
 " I wish all his bottles of wine and baskets of fruit 
 were with Pharaoh and all his host. Once for all. 
 Uncle, I cannot vote for Mr. Michelson. I don't 
 like him or his politics ; and I am not going to sell 
 my birthright, like Esau, for a mess of pottage." 
 
 " What does the boy mean ? How these young 
 chaps do get on !" muttered Uncle James. " Good 
 morning, Ma'am," he added, in a flurried manner, 
 as Aunt Betsey made her appearance ; " I am try- 
 ing to persuade our nephew Pynsent to vote for 
 Mr. Michelson, and he begins to talk about a mess 
 of pottage." 
 
 " Well, Uncle, my birthright as an Englishman 
 is liberty to vote according to my conscience ; and 
 the mess of pottage is the wine and fruit. I think 
 it a very apt simile."
 
 300 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 " But your father was a Tory, boy ; and you are 
 a Tory, Ma^am, if I doiiH mistake V" 
 
 " Decidedly/' said Aunt Betsey ; '' but Pynsent 
 is quite unlike the rest of us." 
 
 " My father was not a Tory of the Michelson 
 school, a milk-and-water, half-and-half mixture, 
 but a downright glass of original strong spirits,^' 
 said Pynsent j '^'^and if Mr. Michelson were like 
 him, I might almost be brought to vote for him : 
 but as it is, I beg to decline. He doesnH know 
 what he is himself yet, and nobody else can guess. 
 He is an old fop and dandy, and cares for no one 
 but himself." 
 
 " He is very kind," whispered Tiny, " and says 
 he will help Charley." 
 
 " Indeed ! We are much obliged to him. I am 
 thankful to say we can help ourselves. But you 
 are a good little girl to take his part." 
 
 "Come, Jessie," said Uncle James, "see what 
 you can do with Pynsent." 
 
 "DonH ask me. Uncle," said Jessie; "I could 
 not wish him to do anything against his conscience. 
 I am no politician myself; but I confess I like to 
 see a man one thing or another. I would rather 
 have Captain Burford's red-hot Toryism than Mr. 
 Michelson's ' all things to all men.' " 
 
 "Miss Betsey, won't you say something?" said 
 Uncle James.
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 301 
 
 " Pynsent has long ceased to think anything of 
 my advice/^ replied Aunt Betsey. 
 
 "The long and short of the matter is," said 
 Pynsent, swallowing hastily his last mouthful of 
 bread-and-butter, " I have no time to vote at all. 
 Do you not know that I am a professional man, 
 and every hour of my day is cut out ? I dare say I 
 shall find my surgery full against I get there. Let 
 me see, I have one old woman with sore eyes ; an 
 old man with inflammation of the windpipe; a 
 boatman's child in the croup. And as to my aris- 
 tocratic patients, — why, they are really unmen- 
 tionable." 
 
 "You always make a joke of everything," said 
 Jessie, laughing. 
 
 "A very comfortable characteristic," replied 
 Pynsent ; " one must be jocular to make a bit of 
 fun out of the obstinate fools I have to deal with. 
 That same old man, for instance, my first patient, 
 I told him to put a mustard plaister, or some tur- 
 pentine, to his throat ; and when I came back, he 
 had not done it, and his throat was really in an 
 alarming state. I asked the reason. ^ He wasn't 
 agoing to burn himself to death with them hot 
 nostrums. He never heard of such a thing all his 
 days ; and wasn't agoing to begin now. He knowed 
 what a blister was, very well, and what leeches
 
 302 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 was; but lieM be dashed if heM be cooked with 
 mustard and turpentine/ " 
 
 '^ Haw ! haw ! haw !" roared Uncle James till 
 the oaken ceiling rang, "you're a fine fellow, 
 Pynsent, but the old 'un had his peculiarities. I 
 vow I shouldnH like the application either. '^ 
 
 " But I had it done, Uncle, nolens volens : and 
 now I am off" to repeat the dose if the throat is not 
 better.'^ 
 
 '^^But the election?" began Uncle James once 
 more : ^' will you come with me, and vote for 
 us?" 
 
 "Have you any conscience?" asked Pynsent. 
 " Will you come with me, and vote for the opposite 
 party ? Mr. Michelson is not my landlord." 
 
 " Do you mean to say. Sir, that I am influenced 
 by being a tenant of Mr. Michelson?" said Uncle 
 James, getting red. 
 
 " I do not think you would vote for him if you 
 were not his tenant," replied Pynsent somewhat 
 bluffly. 
 
 Jessie saw that a storm was rising, and hastened 
 to lull it. 
 
 <c TJierg is nothing to be made of Pynsent, Uncle, 
 when he takes a thing into his head ; so the best 
 way is to let him alone. Pynsent, you had much 
 better go to your old man, or he may be burnt to
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 303 
 
 death by this time. I hope you told him when to 
 take off his plaister ; or depend upon it he has got 
 it on still. I once applied one^ and my patient 
 resolutely kept it on for nearly three hours.'^ 
 
 "What was the result ?^^ asked Pynsent_, getting 
 interested. 
 
 " "Why his wife came to entreat me to let Tom 
 take off that dreadful mustard : he was in such a 
 state there was no living with him : she thought 
 he was going mad. I got into a fright, and re- 
 tm^ned with her : and certainly Tom was almost 
 out of his mind. Imagine his state when the 
 plaister was removed : he tore about the room, 
 raving at me and the plaister by turns. But he 
 was thoroughly cured, and the threatened inflam- 
 mation of the chest departed." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Pynsent, " could any one be 
 so ignorant ? Good morning, Uncle ; I must see 
 after my mustard." 
 
 " I think you want a little cress with it," growled 
 Uncle James; "you^re the most obstinate, im- 
 pudent dog I ever saw. Jessie, will you order my 
 horse? I must go without him, I suppose." , 
 
 Uncle James departed in a bad temper, and the 
 rest of the family set about their usual avocations 
 until two o^ clock, when, to their surprise, Anna 
 and Louisa arrived. Scarcely had a few questions
 
 304 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATIOX. 
 
 been put and answered^ when Anna beckoned Jessie 
 upstairs ; and, going into the bedroom of the latter, 
 bolted the door, and throwing her arms round her 
 sister, burst into tears. 
 
 Jessie was alarmed ; but it was some time before 
 she could obtain an explanation of Annans emotion. 
 At last she elicited the history of Mr. Michelson's 
 proposal_, and of Chatham^ s attentions and in- 
 tended visit ; together with a partial confession of 
 Anna's attachment for Chatham, which she was 
 led to suppose, from her manner rather than her 
 words^ to be, unfortunately, as strong as all her 
 attachments were. 
 
 Jessie's keen common sense perceived at once 
 that no good could arise out of such an unfortunate 
 combination of circumstances. She tried to stem 
 Annans indignation against the father, and to point 
 out the madness of encouraging the admiration of 
 the son, but in vain. She considered herself in- 
 sulted by the proposal of the one, and honoured 
 by what she foresaw would be that of the other. 
 Jessie set to work to manage the private interview 
 which was evidently pending. Aunt Betsey was 
 the difficulty. She asked Louisa Colville to pro- 
 pose a walk. She did so, and the proposal being 
 accepted, she and Aunt Betsey set forth and took 
 Tiny with them. Jessie then told Charles, in few
 
 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 305 
 
 words, the state of the case, and he betook himself 
 to his own room to meditate upon it. As soon as 
 Anna was sufficiently composed, the sisters went 
 together to the parlour, and there awaited the ar- 
 rival of Captain Michelson. Jessie did her best 
 to impress upon Annans mind the propriety and 
 necessity of some degree of caution and reserve 
 with one of whom she knew so little; and she 
 entreated her not to rush into an engagement with 
 him, supposing he should wish it, under the pre- 
 sent circumstances. On the other hand she en- 
 deavoured to brace her mind against the possibility 
 of his being, like so many of whom she had heard 
 and read — his father, for example — merely an ad- 
 mirer of good looks, and not one who wished to 
 marry. 
 
 Anna always listened to her sister with the doci- 
 lity of a child. She was the only one who could 
 influence her. Wilful and almost imperious with 
 others, with her she was still in leading-strings — 
 the strong leading-strings of affection. She looked 
 upon Jessie as wholly superior to every one else in 
 the world, in all, excepting mere beauty and ac- 
 complishments ; and not even the strict propriety 
 of Miss Primmerton^s, or the careless gaiety and 
 ease of Sir Thomas Mansford^s, had succeeded in 
 shaking her faith in her.
 
 306 SIMPLICITY AND FASCINATION. 
 
 Chatham arrived^ and as most of my readers 
 have doubtless felt the sensation that the knock at 
 the door of an anxionsly-expected guest sometimes 
 occasions through the whole frame^ beginning at 
 the heart and vibrating every nerve, I need not 
 describe how Anna trembled, and turned from pale 
 to red ; and how even Jessie got up and sat down 
 twice before he came into the room. 
 
 No one would have supposed, from Chatham^s 
 appearance, that he had come to make a declaration 
 of love. His handsome and usually joyous face 
 was clouded and melancholy. He scarcely knew 
 how to begin any kind of conversation ; and when 
 Jessie spoke of the ball, and made an eflfort to 
 break through the restraint they were all feeling, 
 he scarcely cared to reply. 
 
 After what she considered a proper space for 
 propriety, Jessie left the room. She tried to busy 
 herself about various household duties : she could 
 not perform them. Her heart was with the darling 
 sister committed to her care by her mother on her 
 death-bed: her, for whom she would gladly have 
 sacrificed her own happiness, but who, she foresaw, 
 would have much to suffer in this life. 'She went 
 to her own room, and there she sought to tran- 
 quillize her mind, and to think over what would 
 be the right course to pursue, under the differ-
 
 SIMPLICITY. AND FASCINATION. 307 
 
 ent aspects that matters might wear. As was her 
 custom in all hours of difficulty^ she committed 
 herself to her Heavenly Father for direction and 
 counsel^ feeling assured that He would guide, as 
 he had hitherto done, His erring, orphan children 
 aright, and make all things work together for their 
 good. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 JOHN EDWAED TATLOE, PBT^^' 
 
 ^INN FIELDS. 
 LITTLE QUEEN STKEET, LINCOLJ"
 
 s 
 
 N 

 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 041389781