^>/u ,lA,.\ ^ i>^-^ '3^' 4^H'>i « Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/suchisworld01lond SUCH IS THE WORLD '^ I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A stage, where every man must play his part." MERCHANT OF VENICE. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE->IARIA-LAr:E. 1821. ^13 5 PREFACE. Yes, the Preface! That which accumulated precedents have sanctified, and numberless authori- ties confirmed, no person of discre- tion will venture to condemn. In- dependently, however, of any sanc- tion from antiquity, or shelter under great names, I might, by analogy, ask my reader whether, in the pre- sent instance, the preface be not as VI necessary as the announcement of a name to introduce its owner into some company who had previously assembled to receive him? Notwith- standing the obvious and affirmative answer which this question would extort, I do not intend, by publish- ing the interrogatory, to argue from thence the propriety of giving my reader biographical sketches, be- forehand, of the various person- ages who compose my company, though nothing could be more easy than the exhibition of their por- traitures. Courteous reader, all I would have you to infer is this — the title of my novel, '' Such is THE WoELD," being as comprehen- vu sive as the range of human wisdom and folly, as ample as the streams of virtue and vice, as capacious as the loftiest term in the lists of heraldic fame, and the lowliest epithet which designates the veriest reptile that crawls the earth; — I would rather anticipate the charge of presump- tion, in the selection of a name for my performance, than have the mis- fortune to hear that charge brought against me, without enjoying the common privilege of an accused, to plead in my own defence. Yet my anticipation is probably much too premature, and the bare allusion to the privilege which that charge must necessarily confer upon me, may, in Vlll some measure, check its utterance, by imposing upon my judges that silence which Confucius calls a friend that never betrays. Thus am I relieved from a task little less difficult than the invention of an entire plot ; yet I will not con- ceal that certain forebodings haunt me, as the shadows of real beings accompany them in the sun- shine. But it were childish to think of encountering a doubtful evil by meeting it halfway; and I cannot be expected to approach an imaginary one, any more than I should expect to be taxed with ig- norance, because I could not, at noon IX day, describe the phantasies which may crowd my dreams on the follow- ing night. The title of my novel is, however, a guarantee that the reader has little to expect which he may not have seen amidst the busy hum of men ; and where fancy has bountifully presented to my choice original materials which I have made subservient to imagination, — that faculty which invests objects with all their qualities, real or fic- titious — little, perhaps, will be dis- covered which the ingenuity of the reader's conception would not also have painted as natural, probable, and passable. But I am not vain a5 enough to suppose that my inven- tions are comparable with those his imagination could produce, were I to unlock the stores from which I have drawn my supplies ; or that my characters bear such obvious resem- blances to human nature, in her ori- ginal mould, as he might contrive by the power of association to give them. Nor am I silly enough to imagine that, probable as I may have endeavoured to represent the inci- dents of my tale, the reader may not discover many points in which he could place them more hkely, or with more effect as to the general impression which he designed them XI to produce. And though I have tried to keep the beings of mj crea- tion supportable in their respective stations, I am well aware that, in more able hands, they would be fashioned with more grace and polish than my ingenuity and labour have conferred upon them. For it is well known that, in the art which I have chosen, as in all professions in which popularit}^ is the reward of expe- rience, a young practitioner has more to fear than to hope, and if admitted an associate, assiduity in every future attempt may atone for the errors of the first. And with these allowances, " Such is the Xll world" may, in all likelihood, be considered in the perusal as a to- lerably fair copy of what many eyes have seen, and many ears heard where " The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.** I may at least be allowed the con- solation that, under a title which re- sults as an obvious image from the in- vention of my plot, I have attempted to secure the humble merit of no- velty, by touching, though with a trembling hand, materials which are as familiar to the reader as are the countenances of his friends. But if xm this consolation be denied me, 1 flatter myself, that though not ap- plauded, my attempt to revive a taste which has fallen into disuse will at least be approved. But I have not affectation to imagine that I shall be honoured by a compari- son with the invisible magician, who conjured up " Old MortaUty," and I am devoid of the hypocrisy which would insinuate a rivalship with other celebrated labourers in the field of fiction. They who have reached the pinnacle of fame can entertain no jealousy of me as a candidate at its base ; and such as are midwa^^ up, if they cannot obstruct my ascent, will of course scramble the faster xir to gain that giddy summit, which admits but one favourite at a time. But to drop the figure, and speak in the hmguage of ordinary hfe : I have pitched upon men and manners, wiiose recognition may obtain for their appearance and description that unmerited favour which the judgment lends to truth, even when its voice falls discordant upon the ear. May I hope that in this I have succeeded as well as Bewick, with His 31 ark on the beautifully engraved frontispiece of a superb edition of Gay's Fables? There may be some, however, to XV whom the Allusion here is not intel- ligible; and as the value of this figure is wonderfully heightened by its obvious application, I shall explain Mr. Bewick's Mark. All the world knows that Be- wick was the oreat father of en- graving on wood in this country. Now it happened that in the course of his arduous profession, he con- ceived the idea of illustrating Gay's Fables by a series of wood cuts, as the printers call those engravings which are worked along with the letter-press of a work. Having completed his task to the XVI entire satisfaction of his own mind, Mr. Bewick bethought him of en- graving a frontispiece. But having some suspicion that the said frontis- piece might be pirated by some of those Corsairs, who infest the ocean of Hterature, he resolved to put a mark on it, whereby all men might distinguish it, as readily as a fisherman distinguishes a haddock* from a cod fish. Accordingly, he touched with his thumb the little black ball with which he was wont to ink his cuts, in order to take oif proof impressions •There is a tradition that the two black marks on the opposite sides of the haddock were occasioned by St. Peter's thumb and fore-finger, when he took the piece of money out of the fish's mouth to give it as tribute to Caesar. xvu of his work : he then very dehbe- rately pressed his thumb on the fron- tispiece, which he was at that mo- ment engraving, and cut the most beautiful image of the original, which he designated by the appropriate words " John Bewick, his Mark/' And now that I have, as I trust, by exphcation, rendered my allusion perfectly intelligible to all capacities, I would be understood to apply it generally to the various characters I have laid my hand on. If they bear as strong a resemblance to the originals whom I had before me as Mr. Bewick's Mark bears to his XVHPfZ thdmb^ I shall be encouraged to re- visit the world, which I hold -** But as the world: A stage, where every man mu&.t play his part." It remains for me only in con- clusion to advertise the reader, that, whatever analogy he ma}' find be- tween certain expressions in this performance, and the text or com- ment of a late event, which shook the land o'er all its length and breadth, not one hint has been borrowed from any thing which has transpired since the 17th of August, 1820. Part of the MS. was in the publisher's hands previously to that period ; the last of XIX it was completed precisely on the 15th of that eventful month ; and no expressions have been foisted into the narrative during the progress of the work through the press, to give a popular turn to " Such is the World/' 1^ SUCH IS THE WORLD. CHAPTER I. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Hamlet. Doctor Neville, the vicar of Olden- wood, an ancient village in Wales, had scarcely taken his seat at the breakfast- table, when the sounds of the postman's horn saluted his ear. Mrs. Neville had not yet descended to the parlour from her dressing-room, and Iier husband laid down the volume he had been perusing, and hastened to the garden-gate, where he was met by old Jenkins, the factotum of the Llewellyn's Head, the chief inn of the village, and which was also the post- office of Oldenwood. VOL. I. B 2 ** Any letter for me to-day, or news- paper, Jenkins?" said Dr. Neville. *' Both, sir," replied Jenkins, putting into the vicar's hand a newspaper and a letter ; and, licedless of tlie clergyman's curiosity, the rustic Mercury hied him on to deliver, to their respective owners, what yet remained in his hand ofletters and news papers for the inhabitants of Oldenwood, and the notables of its neighbourhood. The size of the letter rather surprised the doctor ; but it had reached him post- paid, and he had therefore been touched with a feeling of anxiety only to learn the contents of the epistle. This feeling was not however sufficiently powerful to prompt him to break open the seal ere he reached the chair he had left, or the doctor was one of those with whom public news are of first importance ; for he muttered to himself on his return — " My correspond descending a few steps, as if to compel her. " Approach me not," said Isabella firmly: ** resistance at this moment would, I know, be madness ; but come not near me." Then turning round, and ad- dressing herself to Johnston, " And you, you who owe me so much — you for whom I have interceded so often — you have as- sisted in delivering me into the hands of my enemies." The tears rushed to her eyes, but indignation quickly suppressed them. The ruffian and the woman descended the stairs. '* Go into the parlour, Sten- tor," said Johnston ; " you see she wont let you come near her just now — she can't 'scape." Stentor obeyed, answering, *' 'Scape! no. no; for the matter of that she'd be clever indeed." The strange woman, who was in fact 157 Stentor's wife, advariced to Isabella, say- ing, '* Well, miss, you see you had better make us your friends, and then you may be as comfortable as other folks ; you won't be long here, for we're a-going to set off for Lunnun directly." Isabella disdained to reply, or shed a tear. Her quivering lips and pallid cheek, however, told a tale of woe, which needed not the trappings of grief to show how much she felt. The language of this horrible woman, who appeared an active agent in the removal of Isabella, shocked the fearful girl ; who actually wrapped herself up in the least possible room, lest the vile wretch that threatened her should come in contact even with her clothes. ** Miss," said Johnston, in an angry stern tone, " 'twill be no use, you're giving yourself airs now. There's more help at hand if we ben't enough ; so you'd better not say nothing, but go peaceably along." At this moment a man rode up to the 158 door of the Grange. The ruffian we have seen enter the parlour, and the woman who accompanied him, now seized Isabella, pinioned her arms, and placed her on a pillion behind the fellow on horseback. Thus far the good folks at Oldenwood could, in process of time, gather from the history of Isabella's life ; and all that the unlucky Jenkins could narrate we have put in writing : wliat we have now to relate rests upon the same authority as do all the matters which require no other evidence than the author's honour. As soon as the ruffians (for such is the term we apply to the two men and the woman w4io kidnapped Isabella) had cleared the wood, a post-chaise and four appeared in the road ; but Isabella re- fused to enter it till compelled by the threats of her persecutOi's. The vile woman entered along with the much in- jured Isabella ; the ruffian Stentor seated himself on a dicky in front ; but failed not to exhibit to Isabella's view a pair of 159 pistols he was furnished with in the side packets of his great coat. The fellow on horseback disappeared, as he handed Isabella down. The chaise drove rapidly along, and when it stopped, Stentor threatened Isabella with every punish- ment *' if she opened her lips but to bite bread," while they travelled together. The blinds were up at this time. Some wine and biscuit were offered her ; she declined both. Stentor then drove on again ; and at the next stage Isabella was removed from the post-chaise, and placed in a plain travelling carriage ; but still attended by the same odious guards. About evening, when the carriage stop- ped to have a fresh relay of horses put to it, Stentor, who guarded Isabella closely, was offering her some wine, and a wing of a fowl, when a person on foot, who seemed a traveller by his dress, and the familiarity of his manner, thrust his head into the vehicle, and seemed struck with the exhausted appearance of Isabella : *' Is the young lady ill T said he. 160 ** No," replied her guard ; '' but she's sulky : she ran away from her friends with a young spark, and my wife and me overtook 'em this morning." " O, ho 1*' said the pedestrian, with a smile of contempt at Isabella, *' she may well be sulky." Tiie ruffian now closed the carriage door ; nor did he again open it, till they arrived at an obscure street, leading out of Whitechapel, London. When the carriage stopped, Isabella's heart beat high, for the woman said, " Thank good- ness, I have got to my own home once again : I shall be glad to get a comfort- able night's rest." It rained heavily, and the prospect was most dreary. Isabella looked eagerly up the long narrow court, before which tiie carriage halted ; but it was too dark for her to distinguish any object, and the lamp at its entrance burnt dimly, and shed its feeble rays hut a little distance only. The parlour into which they were ushered was illuminated bv one sinu:le IGl kitchen candle. The daughter of the woman, a vulgar-looking gh'l, rose at their entrance, and expressed her joy and sur- prise at seeing them back so soon. '' Well, Mary," said Stentor, " has any thing happened since I left home ?" '* No, father," replied the girl, '' only there is a large packet come from .'* " Oh, never mind the packet," inter- rupted the father, impatiently ; " if that's all you have to say, you Ve told us enough : give me a glass of brandy and a pipe in- stantly." The parlour was small, dirty, and crowd- ed ; the furniture was heavy, and clumsy ; and the paper, which had been originally of a light blue colour, now assumed a fj^reenish black tint, the effect of the smoke, not only of tobacco-pipes, but of that from the chimney. "-Take a chair, miss," said the woman, " and, perhaps, after your ride, a little brandy and water would be agreeable ? My master has got some right Coniac." " Sit down, sit down," said the man to 162 Isabella, *' and make yourself comfort- able." Isabella's knees trembled beneath her to that degree, that she sunk down in a chair, unable any longer to stand. When she could compose her agitated feelings, and muster resolution to speak, she en- treated she might retire to her own room. '' What ! without your supper," said the woman. *' I am not hungry," replied Isabella ; " and should feel obliged to you to show me my bed-room.'' The woman arose ; and lighting a can- dle, which leaned rather than stood in a dirty brass candlestick, she ascended three pair of stairs, followed by Isabella. In a small back attic were two beds of chequered furniture, with a window-cur- tain of the same, which was wafted to and fro by the wind, from, a fracture in the window, over which a piece of paper was pasted, and which did not resist the in- clemency of the weather. '^ Who is to sleep in that bed ?" said 163 Isabella, as she gazed upon the scene before her. '' My daughter Mary," replied the wo- man, " and there's some clothes for you in that trunk. Turn your candle down when you put it out, or set it in the fire- place, and blow it out with your mouth. Good night, miss ; I hope you'll sleep well." " Good night," said Isabella; and she stood a few moments motionless in the middle of the room, holding in her hand the candle, which the draught rapidly wasted. After thus ruminating on her fate, a heavy sigh seemed to ease her oppressed heart ; and she opened the trunk, which she was told contained her wardrobe, to prepare to go to bed, but not to rest. The noise of footsteps on the stair, that, from its injuries of time or ill usage, creaked at e\evy step ; and the slamming of doors, which moved on grat- ing hinges, and were fastened with crazy locks, in place of spring bolts ; kept the 104 distressed Isabella awake till the arrival of Mary, at twelve o'clock. As this girl entered the room, Isabella feigned sleep ; and, after a night of broken rest, she arose feverish, and but little refreshed. Upon entering the parlour in the morning, a faintness overcame her, for tlie room still retained the fumes of the last niglit's re- gale ; dirty glasses and broken tobacco. pipes lay on one table, while another was set out for breakfast. Her heart heaved at tlie display of hot rolls and sausages be- fore the fire ; the remains of some salmon and ham on the table ; and the disgust- ing appearance of the woman and her daughter. In short, at this table her cup and saucer were the only articles Isabella could appropriate to her own particular use. " Why, miss,'' said the woman, " you don't eat at all. Do take something; here's bread and butter, and if } ou like savories, my master can spare you a bit of polo?i7/ sausage. Well, for my part, I 165 can't think, now the journey's over, what makes you so melancholy?" Isabella's heart was too heavily oppress* ed to allow her to answer ; and Mrs. Stentor gave up the point, at the com- mand of her husband, who surlily bade her mind lier own breakfast, and not prate so much. A loud knock at the door put a stop to his animadversions ; and, rising hastily, he looked out at the windovv'. — '' Oh, it's only Jack and his fel- lows,'* said he. '* Come, despatch; there's somewhat to do abroad : but before I sro. Jack and I must have a few words. Do ye hear, why don't ye quicken your pace ? You must go in the kitchen, miss, or your own room," continued he, address- ing Isabella; *' I must have no woman here." Isabella hastily arose ; and, on quitting the room, she met in the passage two or three ill-looking men, who almost started at seeing what appeared to them a spirit from a better world : rudely staring after 166 her, they tried to sport some jokes at her expense, and then began to rally the master of the house, *' Ye may spare yourselves the trouble of laughing at me," replied he, sternly; '' she is placed under my care by those who pay well." Another laugh followed this speech. " Vvliat, you can't be quiet ; I tell ye she may bring us a purse full of gold. Harkye, lads, perhaps we'll con- vey her to France. She's somebody — no one knows who ; but her friends, out of their great love and attention towards her, are anxious to secure the good of her soul ; and, do ye see, they have some thoughts of placing her in a convent abroad ; and we are to have the job, if she does go, and be well paid for it too. Do ye understand me now?" he added, with a smile of bitter irony. '* Oh," replied the new comers, who were smugglers, " you speak clear enough now. But harkye, Stentor, have ye nothing for us to drink?" 467 *^ Draw your chairs, my lads," said Stentor, *' and now let's to business : what's the news ?" The quartetto drew closely round the table ; and, in an under voice, made ar- rangements for their next expedition. Isabella, in the meanv;hile, ascended the dark and narrow stair, and at last reached her miserable bed-chamber. Her feelings did not admit of definition ; and, placing herself in the only chair, and that a broken one, which the room contained, she remained in that vacuity of thought, which is often the result of too greatly horrified feelings. Unconscious of the passing time, she sat thus listless ; deep sighs being all that marked how much she felt this mysterious transition. The entrance of Mary roused her from this torpid state. ** Dinner is on table, miss/' said this poor gill, '* and father never likes to wait ; so pray make haste." " I cannot eat any dinner," was Isa- bella's reply. 168 ^* I dare not go without you, miss ; father will be so angry: hark! I hear his voice; do pray, miss, come." Isabella again refused, and Mary de- scended w^ithout her. The heavy foot- steps of Stentor ascending the stair, ap- palled her, and hastily arising, she met him half-way. " I beg you will not trouble yourself on my account," said she j ** I am indis- posed, and cannot eat." " You must come down and try though ; I am not going to be accused of starving you to death.'' Isabella, in order to avoid further and ineffectual contest, with a sorrowful heart followed this vile being into- the parlour ; where the three mea anxiously awaited the arrival of their host. The inimitable pen of Goldsmith could alone do justice to this scene. The repast was declared superexccllent ; but no entreaties could prevail on Isa- bella to partake of the dainties bIr. Slender, for he had been formerly a butcher in Newport market. But to return to the preparations for Vauxhall : — Isabella positively refused to be of the party ; upon which Mrs. Slen- der put herself into a violent passion ; de- clared she would tell my lady how '* un- haccommodation Miss Templeton was ;" and threatened to go that very afternoon to Wimpole-street. Isabella, however, remained inflexible, till Mr. Slender promised, '* he should squire her himself with Betsy, and Jack might squire them that could take care of him. Take hold of my arm, miss, and you sha'n't take hold of nobody's else all the evening, if you will but go.*' Wearied by their joint importunity, and recollecting that Dr. Neville had advised her to accommodate herself as much as possible to the people of the 247 house, when that accommodation did not mih'tate against propriety, she at length consented. With a heavy heart she put on her bonnet; and, to the surprise of Betsy, absolutely refused an ostrich fea- ther, which she offered to lend her, to make it smart. The important ladies were decked all in their best silks and laces, and flounces and feathers, broaches and necklaces; and, with a smile of con- tempt, they glanced at the plainly dressed but elegant figure of Isabella. Jack himself could not help wishing ** Miss had made herself a little smarter." At length Betsy was gratified with the sound of — ** Well, now it's time to go," from Mrs. Slender. '* rU fetch a coach," said the beauish Mr. Jack : and again and again Betsy pinned and unpinned her draperies, glancing at her new bonnet and feathers in the glass, then stealing a look of pity at Isabella's straw bonnet. " Oh ! here is the coach," said she > 248 and in a trice Mr. and Mrs. Giblett, Mr. and Mrs. Slender, Betsy, and Isabella were seated witbinside ; wben Mr. Jack, with the dexterity of a Mercury, mounted the box, and in high glee the party set off. It was a beautiful evening, and Isa- bella was mucli amused with the busy scene which the streets of London pre- sented. When they arrived at West- minster bridge, Jack was tlie first to de- scend the stairs which lead to the river's brink. Here he was assailed by a num- ber of watermen, each striving to get the fare. Jack, however, said, '* It won't do, my masters ; I choose to choose for my- self;" and having selected a smart little wherry, he offered his arm to Isabella; but Mr. Slender told him to take care of his wife and daughter. " You know," continued he, " you are the man for the ladies. Come, miss, you keep fast hold of me; — there now, be seated, and my Betsy shall sit on the other side of you." 249 '* Oh !" said Mrs. Slender, *' how sweet this is ! Don't you recollect, my dear, the day ve vere married, ven ve vent up to Riclnnond ; and don't you recollect how frightened I vas, and how you coaxed me ? O ! I loves tiie vater." " Ay, ay,'' replied her husband, *' I recollects well enough all about that day ; it was just such an evening as this, and just about this same time, when I was going to get out of the boat, when that wicked rogue, your brother, contrived to trip me up, and give m,e a dipping, and spoiled a full suit of pompadour clothes, with double gilt buttons. Oh, the young rogue !" continued he, good humouredly, '' I paid him oiFthcugh, didn't I, my dear ?" After a pleasant row, they, at length, arrived at the gardens. Mr. Slender bade Isabella put her arm v/itliin liis, bidding- Jack, at ihe same time, to take care of Mrs. Slender. The number of carriages wlu'ch, for a time, had impeded their M 5 250 immediate approach to the gardens, had terrified as well as astonished Isabella; but who can paint lier surprise when, upon emerging from the shaded avenue which led to the interior of the gardens, the orchestra, and its blaze of lights, burst upon her astonished vision? At this moment, too, the Duke of York's band was playing a favourite waltz. Isa- bella was so wrapped in admiration at the splendour and novelty of the scene, that she was perfectly unconscious of the near vicinity of Jack. Mr. Slender had taken her purposely round to the grand entrance, that her surprise might be th.e greater. Jack, profiting by her astonishment, ventured to place himself by her side ; and unable any longer to resist his in- clination to say something, he began the following gallant speech: ** I'm sure, miss, you are not sorry you came now, are you ?'' Isabella did not hear him. 251 " What a fool the boy is !" said Mrs. Giblett : " why don't you take hold of her harm, Jack ?" Jack, turning to his mother, said, " Mum ! mother, mum! Hem! hem !"said he two or three times, as if to renovate his courage, which was hardly equal to his present daring undertaking ; but after many pas en avant, and pas en arriere, he at length just touched her elbow, saying, at the same time, " I say, miss, won't you take hold of my harm ?" Isabella started; and eyeing him from head to foot, indignantly replied, " Sir ! Mr. Giblett!" Thenturning to Mr. Slender, who was as much delighted at the gay scene before him as was Isabella, she said, '' You promised me, sir, I should not be annoyed by Mr. Giblett ?" " No more you shall,'' replied he : '* Jack, keep your distance, or we shall have a fall out, and don't interrupt us, do you hear? I wants to listen to the music. 252 Ah, there's a pipe for you, miss ! did you ever hear any thing like that?" observed he, as a favourite singer made the gardens ring again ; " but we must be upon the listen for the little bell now, or we shan't see the 'water ivorksJ' In about a quarter of an hour the signal was given, and Mr- vSlender dragged Isabella through the crowd, till panting and puffing he was obliged to halt, and taking off his hat, he declared he was " piping hot." The fire-works and the xvater-xcorlis were both praised, were both seen to ad- vantage, for Mr. Slender made Betsy mount upon a bench ; but Isabella, who w^as alarmed at the crowd, begged she might be permitted to stand on terra firma, since she was compelled to endure the fatigue and lieat of the show. Jack was in despair ; for Isabella would not so much as look at him, or his bunch of beautiful seals. Indeed he began to be out of heart upon tlie business, but his mother rallied him so unmercifully, that 253 he resolved to make one more effort to obtain Isabella's good opinion : for this purpose heverygallantly proposed a party to the play for the next evening, protest- ing that if miss would but go, he would treat the present party to the boxes. '' I doesn't mind money, miss," cried he, " to oblige a friend; and so, miss, I hope you'll be so good as to go and see * All for love, or the world well lost,' which is to be acted to-morrow." Mr. Slender told him to go about his business ; but Jack's spirit was up, and he still kept close to Isabella, saying, ** Ah, miss, you never was in love, or you wouldn't be so hard-hearted! I am sure I w^ould do any thing in the world to oblige you." '^ Then leave me, sir,'* said Isabella. *' But you know, miss," he continuedj '' your guardian gave me leave to make love to you." Isabella could not suppress a smile as she replied, '' So you make love by per- mission, do you ?" 254 Jack did not quite understand her, but he replied, *' Ah, miss, I was at boarding- school, but I'm not so lamed as you." ** Do, pray," said Isabella, "leave me, Mr. Giblett, for your labour is all in vain : I never can pay any attention to your fine speeches." Slie looked at him with that sort of expression, that tlie poor youth shrunk from her, nor did he approach her till supper-time, when necessity placed him opposite to her. Isabella's curiosity was soon satisfied with the brilliant and busy scene before her ; and she began to be extremely weary. She shrunk, too, from the im- pertinent gaze of strangers, who, at- tracted by her dignified and noble air, no less than by her beauty, and the society to which she was attached, fre- quently caused the blush of indignant shame to overspread her ingenuous coun- tenance. " By heavens,'' said one gentleman to 255 another, "she is the most lovely creature I ever saw ! But what a queer-looking quiz that old fellow is, with whom she is walking." This speech was so loudly repeated that Isabella heard it, and more offended at its conclusion than gratified by the admiration its former part im- plied, she said to Mr. Slender, '* Are we not going home, sir ?" '*Oh, no," replied her good-humoured but vulgar friend ; '* now you are here, you shall see all that's to be seen: I likes to see all, and to laugh at all. The sup- per's the best part of Wauxhall, and Mr, Giblett's gone to get a box.'* Isabella looked disappointed, but sub- mitted with as good a grace as she could to necessity. She accompanied the happy party into a snug box. The compli- ments usual upon such occasions passed, and Isabella being pressed by Mr. Slen- der to take the wing of a chicken, she declined it firmly, and the good man saying " It was a pity," put it on lus own plate, and soon devoured it. 256 At this moment a gentleman stopped before the box. '' 'Tis she." said he; *• I could not be mistaken in those tones : but I know none of the beings she's with ;" and in an instant Lord Murray approaclied the table. " I hope ]\iiss Templeton is well," continued he, " and that Mr. Franldin has the })leasure of seeing her in good health.*' The elegance and style of Lord Mur- ray's address made Mr. Slender rise and ask him to take his seat. But Ins lordship refused, and desired a waiter to bring a chair. Isabella's agitation, at this meeting, was great. The manner too in which Lord Murray had introduced himself as Mr. Franklin gave rise to the most extraordinary emo- tions. Poor Jack, who saw that Isabella and Lord Murray u'ere well acquainted, beheld in his lordship a formidable rival, and Mr. and Mrs, Giblett exchanged looks which seemed to say, '^ Ah ! there's an end of this job, I see." 257 Lord Murray drank wine with Mr. Giblett, complimented Mrs. Slender upon her good looks, and the fine girl, her daughter, as he presumed. He spoke but little to Isabella ; and, in line, con- ducted himself in " sitch civil genteel manner,'* as Mrs. Slender herself de* clared, that he was quickly established in their good opinion. And it thus ap- peared that no one of the party sus- pected who he was. *' Won't you take a turn with us, Mr. Franklin ?" said Mr. Slender, when his lordship rose to go ; for the good man imagined the stranger might be ac- quainted with Dr. Neville, and he was anxious Isabella should have an oppor- tunity, if that Vi'ere the case, of speak- ing to him. Lord Murray accepted the invitation, but Isabella was a prey to contending feelings, which incapacitated her from answering more than yes or no to the few questions Lord Murray put to her. 258 After going the same insipid round again and again, Mr. Slender declared " that he was fagged to death," and the party began to make their retreat. If Isabella had been terrified at their entrance to Vauxhall, her sensation may be conceived upon her exit from it. The dreadful confusion of carriages and horses; of men and link-boys; the shock- ing language which assailed her ears on every side, made her cling fast to Mr. Slender ; and Lord Murray, who saw her fears, requested permission to attend them home. Almost sinking with terror, Isabella listened with pleasure to his pro- posal ; and having taken his arm, he, in a low voice, entreated she would not betray him, and then very politically of- fered his other arm to Mrs. Slender, and in this procession they reached Somers*- town. As soon as his lordship was gone, Mrs. Slender asked Isabella where she had first seen that handsome Mr. Frank- lin ? a question Isabella pretended not 259 to hear; and, complaining of great fatigue, she lighted her candle and withdrew. *' I am not quite sure/' observed Mrs. Slen- der, " that I shall like that young spark to wisit here;" and after a long confabu- lation, Mr. and Mrs. Slender agreed that it might be improper to encourage the young man's visits until they knev/ some- thing more about him. " But I'll ask my lady about it," continued Mrs. Slender. ** Hang, my lady," replied Mr. Slender; ** can't I forbid him my house without asking my lady's permission ? A'n't I an Englishman ? and is not my house my castle? Now it's in ray mind, that it wouldn't be civil to refuse him admit- tance, if so be he should call to-morrow. He needn't see miss, and I thinks him a very pleasant young man." ** Well, Mr. Slender," said his loving wife, " I say no ; he ought not to come here, and I sha'n't hear of no sitch thing. I am sure Mr. Giblett's a wery pretty match for her." 260 ** Giblett!" repeated her spouse : *' that presuming puppy ! Why he doesn't de- serve to touch the hem of her garment. What does he mean by coming arter ray Betsy ? Never mind him, Betsy, my dear,'"' continued Mr. Slender ; *' he's not worth a thought. The man," rejoined Slender, *' who could keep company with a pretty girl, and leave her without good rea- son, why he is not v/orth that,*' continued he, snapping his fingers. " Oh, yes, he's a pretty fellow, truly, a powdered Jackanapes! I can tell him he's no fish for my market ^ and if he doesn't let miss alone, he shall know my mind in a way he won't like. Never mind him, my girl," said the fond father, patting Betsy's cheek : " it's hard, indeed, if such a pretty face as that, witli a good heart, can't get a better husband than Mr. Jack. He was always a sneaking puppy 1" Row long Mr. Slender might ha\^e gone on we cannot say ; for he sat, sip- 261 ping his rum and water, and talking, without perceiving that his wife, over- come by the fatigues of the evening, had sunk into the arms of Somnus, till one of her nasal cadences startled him. Mrs. Slender seldom slept without accompany- ing herself in this melodious manner. '' Come, wife," said Mr. Slender, " I see you are knocked up ; let 's go to bed.'^ 262 CHAPTER X. The course of true love never did run smooth: But either it was different in blood, Or else misgrafted in respect of years; Or else it stood upon the choice of friends : Or, if there were a sympathy in choice — War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it ; Making it momentary as sound. Swift as a shadow — short as any dream. Midsummer Night's Dream. ly order to account for Lord Mur- ray's appearance at Vauxhall, we must return to that day upon which Mrs. Slender made her important visit to Lady Annandale, communicating young Mr. Giblett's proposal to Miss Tem- pleton. It will be remembered that her ladyship called back Mrs. Slender, lest she should meet Lord Murray, and detained her till she supposed he was gone out : his lordship, however, stopped to seal a letter, and he overheard 263 the conversation which passed between Mrs. Slygo and Mrs. Slender as they descended the stairs. He instantly recog- nized the voice of the Dawlish hidy, whose mellifluous tones, as she demanded Miss Templeton, he had never forgotten. He immediately rang the bell for John Wilson ; but John w^as out, and Lord Murray with great impatience awaited his return. He did not choose to follow this vroman himself, lest he should be recog- nised ; and, therefore, was compelled to endure his present uncertainty for some time, as John had been sent by I.ady Annandale to the other end of the town. When he waited upon his master, the latter told him that he must find out from Slygo, but quite as if by chance, who that woman was, and where she lived, who had paid Lady Annandale a visit just before her ladyship took her morning drive. Wilson immediately set to work, and in the course of the evening he dis- covered the secret. Lord Murray had accompanied his mother upon this even- 264 ing to the play, and John was afraid to go to Somers'»town without further permis- sion. On the following morning the young lord was obliged to attend the levee ; and during his absence Lady Annandale had detained John so late, in executing various communications for her, that when Lord Murray returned, John had no information to give him. Lady Annandale had been particularly watchful over all John's actions of late, and she made a point of employing him whenever her son was out, hoping that she might find out from some expression of impatience of the faithful John, that he had, as Mrs. Slender would have said, other jish to fry. But John's phlegmatic silence baffled all her skill, and when his lord returned from the levee, he requested he might have ^ permission to go to the play, in order to fulfil his duty. The old man did not like to complain of Lady Annandale's detention of him ; but he thought he should be able to quit the 265 house before his master if he could get permission to go the play — ** and then, if your lordship will meet me at the park- gate which comes into Piccadilly," con- tinued John, ^' I will bring you the in- telligence you want." With this round-about story he got the permission he wanted ; and, setting off post-haste for Green-street, where he ar- rived just as the party were stepping into the coach, he heard Jack Giblett order the coachman to drive to Westminster-bridge. As the maid stood gaping after them, John said — " This is Mr. Slender's house, is it not?" and, upon receiving an an- swer in the affirmative, he inquired fur- ther — If the party in that coach were not going to Vauxhall ? — The girl said yes. John now posted back to the park-gate, and detailed to his master the particulars he had just learnt. " Gone to Vauxhall!" ejaculated Lord Murray, *' in such company. Good hea- vens ! Call a coach, John, and do you VOL. I. N 266 get up behind; you shall accompany me to Vauxhall." But John was of a social disposition, and he declined the offer, — because the company at such places made the pleasure, and ** he shouldn't have no pleasure by himself." Lord Murray ordered the coachman to drive quickly to Vauxhall, and he ar- rived there when " night was at odds with morning." Anxiously he looked on every side, and trod with impatient steps the different walks. At the sight of Isabella in such society he felt incon- ceivable pain, and he resolved, that having once found her, he would not lose sight of her, nor cease his inquiries, till he found out who it was that had forcibly conveyed her from her friends. But the reader is already privy to all that passed on their first interview. On the following morning, about eleven o'clock, he hastened to Somers'-town, but was refused admittance. Miss Templeton was said to be out. '* But I wish to speak 267 with Mr. Slender — Mr. Slender is at home ?" " Yes," replied the maid ; " but I can't let you in without first asking him whether you may come in." Lord Murray stood impatiently at the door, till Mr. Slender made his appear- ance : " Sir," said Mr. Slender, bowing low, " you must have nothing to say to Miss Templeton ; my wife is afraid. Lady Ann — hem ! I mean the lady who put her here, would be angry ; for she has promised that Miss Templeton shall see no one, except those we know and are well acquainted with ; and, though you were so very gallant to the ladies last night, that's nothing to the purpose : and so, sir, I am sorry, but I must wish you a good morning." Slender was on the point of shutting the door, when Lord Murray, by a hasty movement, prevented him. *' I wish, Mr. Slender," continued he, '' you would allow me a few minutes' conversation with you ; that is all I want." N 2 268 " Why, as far as that goes/' replied tlie good man, who longed very much to let him in, " I am not particular about that." His lordship profited by this relenting speech, and followed Mr. Slender into the parlour. " May I," said Lord Murray, " ask how Miss Templeton does this morning?'* " Miss Templeton is very well," re- plied Mr. Slender ; " but you\^e some at else to say to me, and there's no time to lose. My mistress will soon be home from market ; and, though you contrived last night to keep her in good humour, yet, I assure you, she is not best tem- pered in a morning. So I think, ex- cuse me, sir, that you had better be gone before she comes home, for she is rather apt in her speech ; and " At this moment, Isabella, unconscious that a visitor was in the parlour, opened the door; she was on the point of retiring, when Lord Murray, rising hastily, begged only one word with her. " Are you 269 quite well this morning?'' said he ; *' may I hope that my inquiries will not prove troublesome ?'' Mr. Slender, who, upon the entrance of Isabella, knew not what to do, watched her varying cheek — and felt assured that Mr. Franklin had more interest in his visits than he chose to allow ; but, recol- lecting that he himself had " once felt the tender passion," his good nature got the belter of his prudence ; and, after ejaculating " Oh dear!" he turned to the window, and began to hum — ** 'Twas summer — so s{»ft!y the breezes were blowing." Lord Murray, in the mean while, en- treated Isabella would tell him, in a few words, how he could effectually assist her in extricating herself from her unknown, yet powerful persecutors. '* Unknown i" repeated Isabella ; " is it possible that you sliould be ignorant of tiie name of my oppressor?" " I am, indeed,'* replied his lordship. *=' Dr. Neville did not even hint that he 270 knew liiem. But why are you thus violently agitated ? Ah, Isabella !" (Mr. Slender turned quickly round at this ad- dress), and Lord Murray corrected him- self: " tell me, I entreat you. Miss Tem- plcton, what I can do to restore you to your friends ?" Isabella's heart beat to so violent a de- gree, and her colour went and came sa rapidly, that Lord Murray was alarmed. ** Be composed, my Isabella," said his lordship, in an under voice ; ** I will pro- tect you against the world." ** O, mercy on us!" said Mr. Slender; ** here is Mrs. Slender, panting for breath, and there is my lady's carriage ibllowing, as I declare." "What lady?" said Lord Murray, going to the window. *'My mother's carriage T* he exclaimed, turning to look at Isabella : " explain this mystery. What does my mother here ?" " She is my protcclor,*' replied the terrified girl — '* my persecutor !" she con- tinued, with a deep sigh. 271 '* Your protector ! — your persecutor, Isabella ! Impossible !" Isabella heard the step of the carriage fall — " Save me !" she cried, clasping her hands. *' Oh, heavens ! what will become of me ! — Save me, Lord Murray, from the overwhelming power of Lady Annan- dale." *^ With my life," he replied. Mr. Slender, in the mean while, stood shaking with fear. " Lord Murray 1" he repeated — " Lord Murray ! Oh, here's a fine to do! But don't look so pale, miss ; don't be so frightened : I'll make the best of it — but pray don't faint. — Oh dear! here they come," continued he, as the footsteps of 'Lady Annandale and those of his wife resounded in the passage. Isabella, unable to move, kept her seat; and Lord Murray, for the second time in his life, felt himself equal to encounter the violence of his mother. Mrs. Slender had so many curtsies to make to Lady Annandale, that she did not at first see any one but her husband. Lady 272 Annandale's start, the expression in her countenance, and the agitation which shook her whole frame, quickly compelled Mrs. Slender to turn round ; when per- ceiving Isabella motionless and Mr. FranJdm standing haughtily by her side, the whole truth appeared to come before her. In a voice bordering upon a scream, she began her own defence ; then an abuse of her husband ; and lastly, she commenced an attack upon Isabella. *' Miss Templeton is not to be insulted," said Lord Murray, haughtily. '* Insulted!" ejaculated Mrs. Slender, " how came Mr. Franklin to insult my fa- mily? Was'n't it enough that you intruded last night at Wauxhall^ — last night, sir ?" As she uttered these words she turned round, as if to appeal to Lady Annandale ; but her ladyship's look paralysed her. *' Leave us," said Lady Annandale; and Mr. and Mrs. Slender immediately left the room. " Mr. Franklin," continued her la- dyship with bitter irony, " pray be seated." Lord Murray coloured highly; and Lady 273 Annandale, who saw her advantage, re- sumed her speech, in the same taunting style, '' May I ask Mr. Franklin the mo- tives of his visit to Mr. Slender's ? Was it to see Mrs. Slender or her accomplished daughter, or possibly," she continued with a supercilious smile, '' it was the all attractive Miss Templeton, whose wiles at Dawlish had well nigh proved fatal to you both ?" Lord Murray haughtily paced the room ; but at the conclusion of this speech he stopped before his mother: "Say no more! for mercy's sake, say no more," he replied, '* unless you would annihilate us both." *' Miss Templeton," resumed Lady Annandale, turning to Isabella, and affecl!ing an air of commiseration, " I pity you — I am sorry for you. This hot- headed boy has no doubt assured you upon his honour that he is paying honour- able addresses to you. But what depend- ance can there be upon the promises of a man who would condescend to falsehood n5 274 and relinquish his name? I have no doubt you fancied him sincere ; but young men will make professions/' " Mother !" exclaimed Lord Murray, interrupting her, " Lady Annandale," continued he, grasping her arm, and with difficulty articulating the words, '* Lady Annandale, beware what you do T' Pier ladyship looked astonished at him ;. and Isabella, profiting by tliis pause, rose, and curtsying to Lady Annandale, she proudly said, " Your ladyship need be under no apprehension on my ac- count. Let me but return to my friends, and I will makeyou a solemn promise '' '^ Stop! Isabella,'* said Lord Murray, ** stop ! — make no rash promises.' " lleturn to your friends!" said Lady Annandale, with a look of ineffable con- tempt ; " and who would believe the pro- mise of an inexperienced girl, when the gliltering bauble of a coronet was dazzling before her eyes? No," continued her ladyship, *' you shall not return to 7/our 275 friends ; I shall not trust to your promises, neither shall I, in future, depend upon Lord Murray's honour. Yet you shall not stay here/' continued her ladyship, for- getting her usual prudence. "Lady Annandale," said Lord Murray, " remove Miss Templeton beyond my knowledge, and I swear I will quit Eng- land, and you shall never see me more.** The solemnity of his manner terrified Isabella. *' Lord Murray," she said, ap- proaching him, "lentreatyou will forbear this conversation. Oh,lookatyour mother; shewillfiint. Merciful Heaven!" she con- tinued, bursting into tears, '* why am I the cause of all this misery?" She ap- proached Lady Annandale, who, almost convulsed by her mental feelings, had sunk into a chair; but by an effort to which such minds as hers v/ere only equal, she indignantly exclaimed, '* Aj)proacIi me not, Isabella, thou base destroyer of all my hopes ! Murray," she continued^ *'you will accompany me home?" 276 ** Provided your ladyship will give me a solemn promise that I shall find Miss Templeton here to-morrow, and that I shall have free access to her. I will not," continued he, with energy, " quit this house without such a promise." Lady Annandale rang the bell violently: ** Order my carriage, if you please. Do you choose to accompany me home, Mur- ray ?" she continued, in a voice almost choked with passion. •'Conditionally/' replied his lordship, as he placed himself by Isabella. Lady Annandale saw it was in vain to contend the point at this moment ; and therefore, addressing Mrs. Slender, she said, " Lord Murray will call to-morrow upon Miss Teuipleton." Isabella's colourless lips and cheeks were covered with a burning glow at these words ; but it fled as Lady Annandale wished Miss Templeton a good morning. Indeed it appeared as if all circum- stances combined to give strength to an 277 affection of which Isabella herself hadbeen ignorant until very lately ; but the quick beating of her heart, when Lady Annan- dale said her son wouldcallonthe morrow, began to convince her that a total re- signation of him would be a ta^k almost beyond her power. When Lady Annandale and Lord Murray were gone, Isabella immediately retired to her own room, and left Mr. and Mrs. Slender in high altercation upon the subject of his lordship's visit. The poor man defended himself as well as he could ; but he had little to say that was convincing to Mrs. Slender, till he resorted to his usual dose of flattery. " Ah, my dear," said he, '' I couldn't but feel for them : when I found out by Miss's looks that they were sweethearts, ah ! thinks I to myself, how hard I should have thought it, if when I was courting Miss Betsy Pottle, some cross-grained woman should have thought of interrupt- ing us ! Ah, my dear wife," continued 278 he, rising and giving Mrs. Slender a kiss, which resembled that of Petruchio in the church, " I would have broken my heart to have seen you look so pitiful as Miss did — and so frightened; and besides, she put me in mind of you when you looked so frightened, when your wicked brother popped me into the water." " La ! Slender !" replied the wife, sub- dued by these sentimental recollections, and this well-timed flattery of her good man, '' La! Slender," said she, trying to blush, " you are sitch a one!"' This was the moment of triumph for Mr. Slender, and the more completely to secure her good humour, as much on Isabella'^ account as on his own, he slipped a two pound note into her hand, and told her to buy a shawl with it. Who will condemn flattery without re- serve ? They only who have never felt its necessity. Mr. Slenderwas a kind-hearted man ; he loved peace and quietness; and although very possibly his professions 279 S'iiight sometimes exceed their veracity, yet he was to be excused upon the prin- ciple of charity, for sometimes indulging himself in poetical fancies. Unless he liad occasionally overstepped the usual track of his compeers, his own life, and that of his daughter and servant, would have been perfectly miserable ; but the dexterity with v;hich he often averted, and sometimes stayed the coming storm, was worthy of imitation. When there> fore Isabella descended to tea, she found the lady of the liouse in high good hu- mour. This was an agreeable surprise : not one word was said of Mr. Franklin, and the evening passed away much as usual, in amicable squabbles at xc/iisky and those witty observations which that game always drew fiom Ivlr. Slender. Early in the morning Isabella's peace was disturbed bv the foliowinfir letter from Lady Annandale. '' Lord Murray has convinced Lady Annandwale that Miss Templeton was not 280 privy to their meeting of yesterday. Lady Annandale is therefore anxious that the subject should be forgotten, more particularly as it might impede Isabella's prospects in life ; as the deserving young man who is so desirous of being united to her might possibly take offence at the publicity of an affair which would reflect upon the prudence of his future wife." At this part of the letter Isabella paused. '* Is it possible/' said she, men- tally, " that Lady Annandale can be se- rious in thus insulting me with the most distant idea of an alliance with Mr. Gib- lett ?" Her heart swelled with indignation as she resumed the perusal of the letter thus : *' Lord Murray will not be persuaded to quit England without one more inter- view with Isabella: to-morrow in the evening, about eight o'clock, he will call at Mrs. Slender's ; but let Isabella beware how she gives the least encouragement to his boyish hopes, or to her own ambi- 2S1 tious desires. Let her receive Lord Mur- ray as a stranger, nor dare by a hint con- vey to his mind that this childish passion is reciprocal on her part. Her own fate depends upon this interview, which, though it will be apparently unobserved, will yet be heard and seen by one who cannot be deceived where she is so deeply interested. Let Miss Templeton again remember tliat lier fate depends upon this interview. Let her remember her first dwelling in London, and the despe- rate character of her host. Let her re- member this, and tremble. Stentor still lives." The perusal of this letter threw Isa- bella into the most violent agitation. She dreaded the interview of the evening — adopted a thousand plans, rejected them all j formed others anew, and these too were set aside as impracticable or impro- bable of success. Every footstep along the flagged pave- m-ent caused an involuntary start, and 2S2 when at last a double knock announced a visitor, her trembling limbs could scarcely support her agitated frame. With difficulty she ascended the stairs, and when she entered the apartment dig- nified with the name of dining-room, Lord Murray, whose looks bespoke love and tenderness, advanced towards her with much anxiety. " You are ill, Isa- bella, very ill,'* said his lordship, taking her hand. ** You should have some ad- vice : the scene of yesterday has been too much for you ; but I have news to communicate will give you pleasure : I wrote yesterday to Dr. Neville, and told him I had seen you ; that you were in some degree fortunately situated ; that Mr. Slender, under a rough exterior, possessed an excellent heart." Isabella scarcely heard Lord Murray, for the soft closing of a door in the ad- joining room had riveted her attention. Was it possible that Lady Annandale would so fiir forget herself as to become u 2S3 listener? Lord Murray looked amazed at the inattention she evinced. " Is it possible, Isabella," continued his lordship, " that you can be so per- fectly insensible to what I am saying ? If you have no interest in me, have you for^ gotten your best friend, Dr. Neville?" " Forgotten Dr. Neville!" she repeated, with a deep sigh ; '* would to Heaven I had never quitted his paternal roof for a single day ! Oh, that I had never gone to Dawlish !" Lord Murray looked im- patient. " What misery has not that ex- cursion heaped upon me ! My lord," con- tinued she, " you know not what mi- series I have endured since my hasty departure from Devonsliire — a repetition of them would annihilate me !" She rose from her seat as she added, *' Farewell, my lord : if you value Isabella's happi- ness, you will think of her no more !'* " Not think of you !" reiterated Lord Murray. *' Not think of you, Isabella, if I value your happiness ! I did not anti- 284 cipate such a meeting as this : — so colJ, so formal — Isabella — nay, stay, hear me — what have you to fear, that thus you tremble?" " Every thing !'' was her reply, as she endeavoured to withdraw her hand, which Lord Murray had again seized. " Every thing, if I prolong an interview so pain- ful — so dangerous to us both !" She re- peated the last words in an under tone. " You must not leave me thus — I can- not, will not part with you, without some further explanation !" replied Lord Mur- ray. " Pardon me, Isabella, for being thus positive ; but I must explain to you the result of my conference with my mo- ther last night. I have promised to leave England for one twelvemonth; and she, on her part, has promised, that if, at the close of that twelvemonth, you will con- sent to bless me with your heart and hand, she will not oppose our union. Say, then, dearest Isabella, you will then be mine! Let me, ere I go, receive some proof of 285 your esteem, if not of love^ to cheer the long and gloomy hours of absence !" Isabella raised her eyes, suffused with tears. ** Alas !" she replied, " you know not what you ask. I can give no pro- mise — but of this be sure, that Dr. Neville's friend can never be " she stopped suddenly. '' Oh, go, my lord, go — ^yet, ere you depart, I have one poor request to make. The perspective before me is full of unknown sorrows, and I foresee misery of every kind.'* ^* Give me, then,*' quickly rejoined Lord Murray, forgetting his promise to his mother ; " give me, then, the right of protecting you from those ills." Isa- bella looked astonished. " Ah !" resumed Lord Murray, " how can I quit England, and leave you to the machinations of " " Hush, hush !" said Isabella ; " for Heaven's sake, my lord, forbear ! Allow me to depart." *' Ycu have not yet made your re- quest," replied his lordship. 28G Isabella stopped ; and Lord Murray proceeded thus : " Heai* me, Isabella. I have a friend who could, even at this late hour, procure a special licence ; — nay, this is no time for fastidious ceremony — say but you will consent to a secret union, and to-morrow you shall be mine, beyond the power of fate.'' Isabella had several times attempted to interrupt this ill-judged, inconsiderate speech ; but his lordship continued speak- ing with so much rapidity, that, in an agony, she disengaged her hand, and re- treated towards the door, with a counte- nance strongly expressive of terror and reproach. '' You will ruin yourself and me, by this intemperate conduct,'' she at length said ; " obtain for me permission to correspond with Dr. Neville ; and now farewell, my lord!" Lord Murray followed her. ** Why do you thus, in idea, augment your sorrows — augment the dangers of your situation ? Listen to me, 1 entreat ! Oh, Isabella, if 287 you loved me, you could not endure to see me thus agonized — could not thus resist my prayer for a union, which would silence every fear. Consent, then, be- loved Isabella." " Never— never," was Isabella's reply, *' wull I consent to do that, which you, in cooler moments, might repent." She shud- dered, as she pronounced the last words. '* I may be unfortunate", she resumed, ** persecuted, slandered; but let me pre- serve my own esteem, as the surest safe- guard to yours. Do not, therefore, unless you wish to drive me hence, do not allude to a secret union. If, at the twelvemonth's end ' ' she blushed deeply as she spoke ; but the flush of love was succeeded by the paleness of terror — a sudden recollection recurred, and struck terror to her heart. Lord Murray endeavoured to soothe her, and promised most solemnly never to allude to a subject, at which her de- licacy so forcibly revolted ; " and now, let me tell you, that I have already ob- 288 talned leave for your free correspondence with Dr. Neville. I have still much to tell you. When I parted from you yes- terday, I expected my mother would have overwhelmed me with reproaches as soon as we entered the carriage, but our drive was performed in total silence. Lady Annandale did not speak one word until we entered the hall, when she desired the servant to say, we were neither of us at home to any one who might call — not even to Lady Mary, or my aunt, Lady Murray. Ah ! Isabella, would to Heaven she would place you with them during our absence, instead of Lady Violet ! but I am interrupting my story.'' Isabella became so interested, that she forgot the caution given her in the letter, and she was all attention to his lordship. ** I know the name of Lady Violet," she said ; *' she is a relation of Mrs. Lindley." *A sigh followed this observation ; for the recollection of her ladyship's name was not accompanied with any pleasurable 289 sensation, " Pray proceed, my lord," she added ; and Lord Murray pursued his communication thus. *' As soon as we were alone, Lady Annandale insisted upon a promise, that I would relinquish all idea of a con- nexion with you. Pardon me, dear Isabella, for thus shocking your feel- ings by a repetition of her unjust de- mands. Our conversation was long and animated, but I need not tease you with the details ; suffice it to inform you, that I resolved not to quit England until you were either placed under Dr. Neville's care, or in a situation more worthy of you than your present residence. I said I was quite certain that my two aunts would be happy to give you an asylum ; but this proposition my mother violently opposed : and, after musing- some time, she said, Lady Violet wanted a companion for her daughter, and she would immediately mention you to her ladyship. I myself intend speak- VOL. I. o 290 ing to my two aunts ; and I am very sure they will pay you every attention. Isabella's eyes filled with tears as his lord- ship thus detailed his care and anxiety for her happiness ; and she began to express her gratitude for his affectionate care of her welfare, when his lordship, inter- rupting her, exclaimed, '' Talk not of gratitude — gratitude is too cold !" At this moment something fell in the next room. Isabella started! *' I will not," she continued, forgetting every pru- dential feeling, " be the slave of such ty- ranny ! We are overheard, and I dare not speak the feelings of my heart ; and so, my lord, once more farewell !" " Overheard !" Lord Murray repeat- ed ; but Isabella had so suddenly fled from the room, that he had not been able to prevent her ; and he left the house with feelings of indignation at the unge- nerous idea, that spies should be placed upon this interview. Isabella heard the door close after 291 Lord Murray, and it appeared to her as if it had shut out all that was dear to her. His anxious care for her comfort ; his generous resolution of securing for her the protection and sanction of his two aunts; and the uninterrupted corre- spondence with Dr. Neville, promised through his means, warmed her heart, and bestowed a ray of hope upon the hitherto cheerless prospect, which she had in view at Lady Violet's. After some little time passed in pleas- ing meditation, she prepared to go down stairs ; but, upon opening her door, she heard Mrs. Slender say, " You may de- pend upon me, my lady." Somebody then went down stairs, and Mrs. Slender called for " the chair.'* Soon after which the street door closed softly, and the officious lady of the house went into the parlour. *^ I don't like this underhand work," said Mr. Slender, as his wife entered the 02 292 room ; ** I don't like to see that poor thing so abused." " La! Slender, youVe sitch pretiklar notions and idears. See what I've got here ; a five pound note, to buy me a gown." '* You've got gowns enough/' replied her husband with more asperity than was usual ; " besides, I could give you more, if you want more, without deceiving that poor girl : for my part, I wonder you have the heart to do it." " Why, what do you think my lady says ?'* replied Mrs. Slender. *' She says, my lord could marry a duke's daughter, who is dying for love of him ; but he won't have nothing to say to her, because of Miss Templeton. Only think, not to have a duke's daughter!*' *' Hem !" said Mr. Slender, who was sometimes troubled with a short cough. ** Here, Miss Templeton is coming; now don't go to huff her." 293 When Isabella opened the door, Mr. Slender rose and placed a chair for her. This little attention was not lost upon Isabella, whose heart had been cheered by her late interview with Lord Murray, as it convinced her of his truth and af- fection ; and she returned the civility of Mr. Slender by a smile which was more eloquent tl um the thanks of speech. Delighted to see her a little happy, he gave vent to his jocose humour; and his wife more than once ejaculated, during the evening, her best humoured and most approving exclamation of-—*' La ! Slen- der, you are sitch a one !" 294 CHAPTER XI. For thee, fond boy. If I may ever know, thou dost but sigh, That thou no more shalt see this knack, (as never I mean thou shah,) we'll bar thee from succession > Not hold thee of our blood, no, not our kin, Far than Deucalion off! — Mark thou my words. Winter's Tale. On the following morning, Isabella was surprised by a visit from Lady Annan- dale. Before she obeyed her ladyshlp*s summons to the parlour, she endeavoured to fortify her mind ; and with some de- gree of composure, and much of dignity, she entered the room. Lady Annan- dale, by a slight movement of her head, returned Isabella's graceful salute. A short pause ensued, during which her ladyship appeared to be absorbed in thought ; at length she said, " I am come, Isabella, to point out to you your 295 future mode of conduct, in the situation I have procured for you. Lady Violet, under whose protection you are about to be phiced, is my very particular friend : she has one daughter, Lady Susan Violet, who is so very condescending as to accept you as her companion. I shall remit to you fifty pounds a year; a sum which will enable you, with economy, to appear like a gentlewoman, though it will not permit you to vie with Lady Susan. Lord Violet is, I believe, a good sort of man ; and I have no doubt but you will find his house an agreeable home, provided you conduct yourself with propriety. There is one caution I am particularly anxious to give you — beware ef vanity. Lady Susan Violet is highly accomplished ; excelling in all those points of education, which are now considered so essential to ayoung woman's establishment in life. I understand you touch the harp v/ith taste j and that, 296 although you have little skill, you sing with feeling. Do not be anxious to dis- play these talents; — much of your hap- piness will depend upon your humility. Never let a foolish w^ish to exhibit your superiority, if such you should possess, prompt you to bring your abilities in contact with those of her ladyship. I know but little of Lady Susan's dis- position, but she is a girl of fashion, who has been brought up with high no- tions ; and would not, therefore, be very likely to pardon an offence, which would confer upon her the mortifying sensation of inferiority. '^ You have my full permission to cor- respond with Dr. Neville ; but no per- sonal intercourse must take |>iace be- tween you. As for your return to Ol- denwood, that is totally out of the question. Do not attempt it, therefore ; for by so doing you would heap misery upon your own head. Although I shall 2^7 be on the Continent, yet I shall know all that passes which relates to you, even to the minutest circumstance.'* Here her ladyship paused, and seemed expecting an answ^er ; but Isabella was silent. The kindly feelings wliich iiad impulsively arisen, as Lady Annandale pointed out to her the path she should pursue in her new situation, vanished at the conclusion of her ladyship's observa- tions. " Have you no answer, Isabella?" said Lady Annandale haughtily. " Dr. Neville," replied Isabella, im- prudently, but perhaps naturally, "never thought it necessary to place a spy upon my actions ; and I am proud to say, he never had reason to repent his con- fidence." " Upon my word," said Lady Annan- dale, " you speak in a very high tone ; but I attribute this to the foolish induU gence of Dr. Neville, who no doubt fan- o 5 298r cied that he was educating, in Isabella Terapleton, some future duchess." As her ladyship pronounced these words, she looked steadily and penetrat- ingly at Isabella. A giddiness seized the latter, and she caught hold of the table to prevent herself from falling. Lady Annandale became very pale : but, soon recovering herself, she added, with the tone of contempt, — " He too, no doubt, was privy to Lord Murray's childish folly, and thought to secure the title of countess at least for his darling ; but I am happy ta say, Lord Murray is now thoroughly con- vinced of his folly ; he is perfectly aware of the snares which were laid for him ; and to-morrow he accompanies me to France. Had you been wise, you would have accepted the offer of Mr. Giblett." [Isabella looked indignantly.] " I fore- see,'* continued her ladyship, " that your high spirit will prove your bitterest foe. Mr. Giblett is, I understand, a de- serving young man." 299 A double knock at the door announced a visitor ; and Isabella recognised the step of Lord Murray ere he entered the parlour. Lady Annandale rose as he ap- peared. " Murray here !" exclaimed her ladyship. *' But you will say farewell to Miss Templeton, and then accompany me home." '* Pardon me, madam," replied his lordship, '* I have a letter from Dr. Ne- ville for Miss Templeton. I shall not be long ; but I claim your promise of free and uninterrupted intercourse with Miss Templeton during the few hours we re- main in England." Lady Annandale bit her lips. ** Besides which," continued his lord- ship, " I have undertaken to introduce her to my aunt Lady Mary ; who has kindly said she would call upon Miss Templeton this forenoon." The decisive tone in which Lord Mur- ray spoke this, — a tone which, till lately, he had never assumed, — enraged Lady Annandale. 300 '^ Murray !** said her ladyship ; ** this boyish heroism does not become youi Miss Templeton needs not your protect tion, nor the sanction of Lady Mary." ** I claim the fulfilment of your pro- mise," replied her son, '* or I consider mine no longer binding. The sacrifice 1 have made to filial duty demands the greatest indulgence ; and I am fully re- solved that the smallest deviation on your part shall immediately liberate me from my engagement also." Lady Annandale's countenance as- snmed the expression of the most sove- reign contempt ; and Isabella, too much affected at being the cause of this dis- agreement between mother and son, was leaving the room, when Lord Murray said — '' Stay, Isabella!" and his words arrested her. *' Yes," said Lady Annandale ; '* stay, Miss Templeton, and witness your tri- umph. See Lord Murray, whom I have cherished with the fondest love — he 301 who owes me every thing; yes!" she I'epeated with vehemence, '^ everything ; — more than his imagination can fancy; see him treat his mother with contempt ! And for w^hom ? For Miss Templeton ! But let Miss Templeton beware of driving me to extremities. And you. Lord Mur- ray, relinquish all idea of making her your wife till the appointed time. If slie assumes the title of Lady Murray without my consent, you must both take the consequences." Her ladyship paced the room violently -^ while Lord Murray and Isabella gazed upon the extraordinary being before them with a sensation bordering upon terror, as she resumed her speech, thus, ad- dressing Isabella : — *' You know not my power — I can make you loathe your very existence!" Isabella rose from her seat, and removed to the farther end of the apartment, as if she feared some dreadful misfortune would follow this exulting and tyrannous 302 threat from Lady Annandale. — In a short time, however, she recovered herself; and returning to her former station, before her ladyship, she said, ** Your ladyship has forgotten that ere you can reduce me to such a state of misery, you must first deprive me of my own es- teem. While I can say, such misery is not the result of my own devia- tion from the paths of virtue, it is not in your ladyship's power to make me loathe my existence. But of this be sure," she added, with a firm voice, " that not for all the world could offer would I, persecuted as I am, and apparently at your ladyship's mercy, exchange situ- ations with Lady Annandale." Isabella was pale as death when she began to speak, but ere she had con- cluded, the blood rushed to her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, and never did Lord Murray perhaps so much admire our he- roine as at this moment, when she rose superior to menaces, which would have 303 overwhelmed with dismay a mind of an inferior mould. His admiration was, however, inter- rupted by the strange conduct of his mo- ther, whose countenance betrayed feel- ings his lordship could not define. She looked steadily for a few moments at Isa- bella ; then, with both her hands hiding her face, which was almost convulsed, she suddenly sprang from her seat, and rushed' out of the house. When she entered her carriage, a passionate flood of tears relieved her agitated bosom ^ and convinced her that she was, in the midst of her boasted power, a prey to the bitterest of all earthly sufferings — the pangs of Remorse. Isabella's heroism had vanished with the disappearance of Lady Annandale, and she sunk into a chair as her ladyship left the room, and Lord Murray stood for some time like a statue. Isabella was the firat to speak. — '' My lord," she began : in an instant 304 he was by her side. " My lord," she repeated, " I know not what right Lady Annandale has to assume so much autho- rity over me, whom she wishes to stigma, tize with opprobrious birth." A burning blush overspread her face a she uttered these words. " But," she resumed, with energy, *' that she has some secret mys- terious power, I have deeply experienced and proved. Let me entreat, then" — her voice faltered ; but recovering her- self, she proceeded calmly in the following words : — " Let me entreat, that you wi endeavour to forget there is so hapless a being in the world as Isabella Tem- pleton." '< Forget you!" cried Lord Murray; " Never, Isabella, by heaven ! nor will I relinquish you : you are not, you can- not be serious yourself in this request. — Be composed, while I coolly and calmly point out to you how much your fears exaggerate the extent of my mother's power and your own danger. Are you not in England ?" 305 Isabella looked incredulous. "I judge from experience," said she ; ** you, my lord, according to your wishes. Par- don me, my lord, but you must, ere you quit England, thoroughly understand my ideas upon the subject which has caused your mother so much indigna- tion and me so much misery. I am dis- owned, and forsaken by those who should, by the laws of nature, have protected me ; yet I have too much respect for myself to steal into any family whatever, much more to enter it in opposition to its chief member." Lord Murray looked im- patient as she continued thus : '* Unequal marriages may by chance prove for- tunate ; but I have heard Mrs. Lindley say, that, ninety-nine times out of a hun- dred, they are unpropitious." " If," interrupted Lord Murray, "you felt tlie slightest affection, Isabella, you could not argue thus coolly upon a sub- ject which tortures me to glance upon. I begin to think I am totally indifferent to you, and that you have other motives for 306 refusing to accept me as your future protector than my mother's opposition. Perhaps you are offended that I have given her a solemn promise not to cor- respond with you during the next twelve- month ; but I have, at the same time, re- served to myself the pleasure of hearing of you, by securing the friendship of my aunt, Lady Mary Annandale. " At the end of that twelvemonth we shall return to England ; and then, my Isabella, we'll not fear the threats of Lady Annandale nor her contempt. — As my wife," continued his lordship, '*you will be sheltered from the one, and placed above the other.' ' There was something in this speech Isabella did not quite approve, though perhaps she could not have pointed out what it was that gave her offence ; yet she was silent. "How cold you are, Isabella! "said Lord Murray, as he gazed upon her motionless form. — '* Is it possible," continued he, " that you can witness my sorrow, my 307 agony at parting with you, without one word of encouragement — one word of kind and consoling promise ? Ah ! I fear that in the vortex of fashion, Murray will be soon forgotten. Fool that I was to urge your removal from this homely dwelling. — Isabella," continued he, pas- sionately, " speak to me; though it should be to say you hate me, yet speak to me: I could endure any thing better than this freezing silence.'* Isabella sighed deeply. *' I cannot, will not quit England in this state of uncertainty," he con- tinued, as he paced the room. " My lord," said Isabella, " you ter- rify me by this violence. — I exact no promise from you," she continued mourn- fully ; *' I have the fullest confidence in your honour; why, then, shouldyou doubt mine ? But to convince you I am not unwilling to gratify your wishes " ' Unwilling!'' repeated Lord Mur- ray : ** do not, Isabella, by this heartless language, do not chill my inmost soul. 308 Ah! if you loved, you would find other language than this. No, no, Isabella, I see how it is ; Murray, as the son of Lady Annandale, is, in your eye, your perse- cutor also." His agitation prevented his continu- ing ; and Isabella endeavouring to collect herself, made many ineffectual efforts to speak j but her feelings, harassed by her late interview w^ith Lady Annandale, were too much for her ; and, unable to articu- late, she sat the picture of despair. " Isabella — my dear Isabella," ex- claimed Lord Murray, " I will not tor- ture you thus : forgive me ; I will be more calm, only say you forgive me." Isabella endeavoured to smile ; but the effort was vague, and she burst into tears. Lord Murray now used every means in his power to soothe her, and induce her to give him some assurance of her affec- tion. " At least," said he, '' let me quit Eng- land with the idea that tliere is one being: 309 in the world who is not insensible to my future destiny ; that you^ Isabella, will sometimes think of me !" Isabella felt every instant how danger- ous it was to prolong an interview which was so painful to them both, ** What would you have me say?*' she cried. '* Alas! I fear I need not tell you how deeply interested I shall be in all that con- cerns Lord Murray; but as this, perhaps, may be the last interview/' her voice fal- tered as she spoke, " let it suffice you, that the remembrance of the good opi- nion, the affection you have expressed for me, will cheer the prospect of my future days ! This is all I can say." *' Say not so," hastily interrupted Lord Murray. ** Oh ! Isabella, can you see me thus agitated, and yet be insensible to the flame which consumes me ? — say but you pity me — that you love me !" — Isa- bella's hand trembled within his ; and as he pressed it to his lips, she did not at- tempt to withdraw it. 310 *< I fear," said Isabella, blushing *' Rosy-red, love's proper hue," ** I fear that Lady Annan dale will mark your stay, and think it long." *' Why wish to shorten moments," he replied/Svhich fly on cagle'swings?" This conference continued some hours ; till the distant sound of carriage wheels was heard. " 'Tis my aunt," said Lord Murray : "Now, my Isabella, prepare yourself for a friendly interview. Compose yourself." When Lady Mary entered the room, Isabella rose, and Lord Murray taking her hand, advanced to meet his aunt : *' Allow me, my dear madam," said he, " to introduce you to Miss Templeton, who is most anxious to secure the good opinion of Lady Mary Annandale.'* Isabella, who had mec Lady Annan- dale's haughty address with an air al- most equally haughty, was now^ covered with confusion. There was something dig- nified in Lady Mary's manner ; but it was 311 at the same time so kind, — that our he- roine's heart melted within her : the tears stood in her eyes, as her ladyship said, '* She should be happy to be better ac- quainted with Miss Templeton. '* You have that in your face, young lady, which bespeaks my affection. Did you never observe, Murray, the striking likeness there is between your uncle's picture and Miss Templeton ?" *' No," replied his lordship ; " and now you mention it, I am surprised I have not been struck by it before." The colour fled Isabella's cheek at me ntion of Lord Murray's " uncle's pic- ture ;" and she mentally exclaimed, " I am, then, the illegitimate offspring of Lord Annandale !" *' You are not well," said Lady Mary, kindly, who observed her fading cheek. '' Miss Templeton has been much ha- rassed of late," replied Lord Murray, *' and her health has received a severe shock from a variety of unfortunate events, which I hope will now be all forgotten." 312 " So young, and yet so unfortunate!" replied Lady Mary. At this moment the maid servant entered, and delivered a letter to Isabella: it was from Lady Annandale, and contained, as usual, few words, but they were important. It ran tluis : *' I shall send the carriage for you at eight o'clock, when I expect you will be ready to accompany me to Lady Violet^s. Your introduction to Lady Mary will avail you but little ; for I forbid all inti- macy between you. The common inter- course of society you cannot avoid, but attempt not more. " Margaret x\xnandale.*' Lord Murray looked inquisitive; but Lady Mary seemed wholly occupied w^ith the resemblance she discovered between tlie persecuted Isabella and her late brother. *' I wish, Murray," said her ladyship, *' you had intro- duced me sooner to Miss Templelon : 313 but it is not too late for us to be friends/' continued she smiling, '' and if Miss Templeton will accompany me home, I shall be happy to introduce her to my sister." '* Do, Isabella," said Lord Murray, " do go with my aunt." " I have just received Lady Annan- dale's commands," replied Isabella, '' to attend her ladyship, at eight o'clock, to Lady Violet's, and must, therefore, for the present, decline your ladyship's kind and polite offer." '* Lady Violet's!" exclaimed Lady Mary, '* oh, 1 remember now, my sister told me she was going to place a young person under Lady Violet's protection. If I had known Miss Templeton sooner. I should myself have solicited the plea- sure of her company a few months. But you can go home with me to-night. I will make your peace with Lady Annan- dale." Isabella looked at Lord Murray, and VOL. T. p 314 then politely declined the tempting offer. " At some future time," said she, ** I shall be proud to profit by so kind an in- vitation, but at present I dare not ac- cept it." The last words almost died upon her lips, but, composing herself, and recover- ing her wonted serenity of manner, she continued thus : '* I am not the free mis- tress of my own actions, and if I should appear, now, or at any future time, insen- sible to such flattering kindness, may I hope that your ladyship will not attribute my conduct to any want of proper feel- ing on my part, but to a strange com- bination of circumstances, which I have neither the power to control, nor yet to elude." Lady Mary looked surprised, but hold- ing out her hand to Isabella, she said with a smile, " Your countenance shall prove your apology." Isabella's heart beat quick, as she ex- dressed fervent hope that she never 315 should prove herself unworthy of so flattering a reception, as that which she had just received from her ladyship. Lady Mary shook hands with her, and saying, " We shall soon meet again ;" she was conducted by Lord Murray to her carriage. ** She is a charming crea- ture," continued lier ladyship, address- ing herself to Lord Murray ; *' there is something so noble about her. Will you go home with me, Murray? Well, as you please. I shall be in Wimpole-street in the morning, before you are off. Good bye !" Lord Murray, delighted with the re- sult of this interview, returned to Isa- bella, and said, '^ He meant to take tea Xiith her,'^ '' What will Lady Annandale say, my lord?" " It is now only five o'clock," re- plied Lord Murray, '' and my mother will not send for you these three hours." " But you forget I have much to do 316 in that time, and that it is absolutely ne- cessary we should part." " You are right, Isabella," said his 1 ordship 5 " yet how can I leave you ?" Mr. Slender's knock at the street door startled them botli. Isabella became cold and pale, as Lord Murray imprinted an ardent kiss upon her cheek ; then hastily quitting tlie room, he almost up- set the good man of the house, who was, according to his usual custom, hanging up his hat and umbrella in the passage. ** God bless me!" exclaimed Mr. Slen- der, '* who could that be ?" and going to the door, he perceived Lord Murray almost running along tlie street. Then turning round, and shutting the door, he discovered his wife coming out softly from the back parlour, and he thus ad- dressed her : " Ah, my dear, when I was young, I used to run to my Betsy's house, but always walked slow enough from it. Now there goes that young spark, 317 as light-heeled as you please, and I dare say as light hearted too. Oh, he's not like me — when I courted my wife, I woudn't take no denial, would I, my dear? I hung my hat upon a peg, and says I, miss^ there hangs my hat, and I sha'n't take it down till you say yes," and, as if inspired by the subject, he began his favourite air, * Twas SLiramer ; so softly the breezes were blowing.*' But a frown whicli sat on Mrs. Slender's brow, changed his tune into, — " Ah, my dear, times are altered since I walked seven miles to look at the smoke of your chimbley." *• La ! Slender," replied his wife, as she w^ent into the kitchen to take a survey that all was right, "you are sitch a one !" Upon entering the parlour, he was struck dumb at the picture Isabella pre- sented, for she *' sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief." In a voice of kindness he approach.ed her, " Never mind, miss," said he, '• he a'n't wortii a i» 3 318 tliought, to run away and leave you so/' Isabella started from her seat, and passing Mr. Slender without answering him, she retired to her own apartment, '' I wonder what's in the wind now ?" he ejaculated, '' I think miss Bella need not be so shore upon one. To be sure, poor thing, she's in love, and I remember when I was in love ;" but the entrance of the enchanting object of his affections at this moment put an end to his pleasing recollections of days of " aukl lang syne," dayswhen Miss Betsy Pottle was all sweet- ness — all complacency — when, blushing like a damask rose, she would smile and simper, and be the most condescending creature living. But, alas ! these halcyon days W' ere of short duration, for the honey- moon was scarcely over, when she began to argue with her own good man, and ere a twelvemonth had elapsed, she had acquired the character she still enjoyed among her female friends, of a tnighti/ 319 good sort of "woman, that is to say, she took care of the '' main chance;" was an excellent manager, and knew better than most folks how to pickle the cucumbers of three seasons in the same vinegar. As for servants, no one ever excelled, per- haps we might say equalled, her judi- cious conduct towards those unhappy beings who were so unfortunate, or, as she would say, fortunate, to come under her jurisdiction. Besides, Mrs. Slender, like many other folks, could arrange other people's fimilies a great deal better than they could themselves. Such, how- ever, was the perversity of some of her friends, for whose good she was much interested, that they absolutely were offended at her interference, and even called her an impertinent meddling wo- man ; but mark the sequel — they were sure to fall into some misfortune or an- other, soon after their rejection of her advice, which was, indeed, to be ex- pected. Then she would lament, exult. 320 and apostrophise all in a breath, " She had fores'een this break-up long ago." '' See, Betsy," said she, when a neigh- bour and a celebrated hackney-man lost eight horses in one week, " see what a sad thing it is not to be a good manager — Ah ! I always thought how it would be." Then turning to her husband, she added, " Ah ! my dear Slender, what a lucky man you was to get such a ma-. nager !" Mr. Slender was, as w^e have seen, troubled with a short cough ; but he con- tinued to assent to such observations, though he sometimes thought — so weak, alas ! was he, " that a very good manager was not at all times a very agreeable com- panion." As we are on the point of taking leave of this excellent good sort of woman, and her family, we thought it a tribute due to her virtue to set them forth to our readers, as, peradventure, among their number some may be disposed to regulate 321 their conduct by the same extensive prin- ciples of charity, which induced Mrs. Slender, at the expense of the happiness of her husband, her daughter, and ser- vants, to promote their interest and wel- fare by every means possible, which she could devise. Day after day she would talk — till, at length, wearied by the la- conic answers or silence of her good man, she would, in a sort of scream, lament her hard fate thus — '* all I say is lost upon you, Mr. Slender; you spoil your daughter by indulgence, and your servant by thinking of her comforts forsooth — but I see," continued she, " its all in vain, and I may as well keep my breath to cool my porridge, for the good I do. There now, isn't it enough to provoke a saint — there's that girl not come back yet — Oh, if I had not the patience of Job, I never could endure it." In such praiseworthy ejaculations of self-approbation, she would pass away the hours, while Mr Slender, good man, would frequently, 322 and impatiently, look at his watch, if it were afternoon; and, as the clock struck four, he would joyfully take up his hat and adjourn to the snug parlour at the Marquis of Granby public-house, where he could at his ease smoke his pipe, take his glass of ale, and settle the affairs of the nation — a much easier task to him than to arrange those of his own house. But we must bid adieu to this scene of connubial felicity, and indulge ourselves with the fervent hope, that in our future peregrinations we shall meet with pic- tures of more refined happiness ; for when persons enjoy the benefits of exalted society, and are held in reputation for what the world denominates cultivated minds, it is but reasonable to suppose that their conduct will be proportionably guided by superior discretion. We trust our readers will pardon our having detained them so long in the family of Mr. and Mrs. Slender, — but of Such is tliexcorldy in part. We shall now 323 emerge from these scenes of unpolished life to those in a different sphere, yet inhabited by the same natures, although circumstances and education may have given them a deceptive polish in some cases ; and, in others, may have worn off their natural asperities, without at all in- juring the intrinsic value, or destroying the original character. But human nature is still the same, in all ages — in all ranks. Lady Annandale could be courteous and condescending to Mrs. Slender, because it suited her purpose. Mrs. Slender, on her part, could be all politeness — all ob- sequiousness in Wimpole-street, because it coincided with her interest. END OF VOL. I. LONDON: pniNTFl) D\ TIfoiIAS DAMSON, ^VHITEFRI AK5. X Ill l^iitf